Chapter 1

Brenda, New York--1978--

Brenda stood on 5th Avenue impatiently waiting for Connor to arrive. She had some mighty important news to tell him. Their trip to Scotland after Kurgan's rather explosive death was productive in more ways than one. She smiled a soft smile because she knew in her heart that Connor, a man alone for so long, who had longed for family and a place to mostly be settled in would finally see that come to pass. With Kurgan's Death, he now had No reasons to fear loving again. No-one could come out of the wood work again to cast a shadow over his life.

Impatiently she stamped her foot in the cold crisp winter air wondering for the hundredth time why he was so late. Thoughts of quickenings and sword battles were far from her mind. After all, Connor had won the Prize hadn't he? He was the final immortal standing.

She still had a bit of a problem with the whole immortal idea. It was so very ludicrous sounding when you thought about it. People born with the ability to never die. The only way you could kill them was to unceremoniously cut off their head in some endless silly battle called a Game. To her it just seemed crazy. There were times when her logical police woman's brain thought that Connor was a bit daft. That his love of antiques had went to his brain. She remembered with crystal clarity the day he put a dagger into her hand and had her push it into his chest. She watched as he supposedly died and came back.. But really, it wasn't possible. Even as she saw all the happenings in those short but eventful days, her logical mind simply put a new explanation on everything. Connor used a fake stage knife on her, one of those break away types. As for Kurgan.. he didn't really lose his head.. it just seemed that way from her spot in the corner of the SilverCup roof. As for the explosions rocking the place afterwards, her mind had totally convinced itself that those were simply gas leaks and explosions.

Connor--New York--1978

Connor MacLeod stood 5 blocks away from Brenda watching her as she stood impatiently awaiting his arrival. He could tell by the look on her face that she was extremely irritated by his apparent lateness. He loved her, but at times he didn't know quite what to make of her. She was a modern lady. Things didn't phase her as it had so many people in the past. She was persistent too. He had to give her that, as a small smile fleetingly traced his serious yet handsome face. He was in a quandary about Brenda. He did love her, as he could love, just as he loved his adopted daughter Rachel. There were times when he was glad that Brenda had convinced herself that the facts about being immortal was nonsense. It was especially important that she keep believing immortals didn't exist.

The Game wasn't Over as he had thought. He had learned this little bit of information one day when he happened upon Leah. Strange woman that Leah was. He caught her following him around, but always in such a way as she thought he wouldn't see her. If he bought a cup of coffee she was there writing away in a little notebook. Being immortal he had adopted a state of high awareness over the centuries of anyone watching or following him, but this Leah took watching him to a new level. He could tell she was not immortal, he had gotten close enough to her over time to take a good reading of that, no immortal buzz coming from her.

He remembered well the day he confronted her finally. He was a private man for all intents and purposes, and even a daffy crazed woman that loved antiques and wrote all about him was just finally too much to bear. After much talk or arguing as he saw it he learned what her duties were. A watcher, a person that actually got paid to watch and chronicle his life as an immortal. It seemed all immortals had a watcher. The group had been around nearly as long as Immortals themselves, however long that was. Connor was still unsure of how immortals came to be and even this watcher, Leah, didn't seem to know.Strange business indeed, He thought to himself,but then, no stranger than immortals themselves.

Connor yanked himself back to the present day and his worries over what to do about Brenda and Rachel too for that matter. He had come to realize recently, after speaking at length with Leah the Watcher, that the Game wasn't over. He learned with joy filled surprise, that clansmen Duncan MacLeod, was still alive, although he had not seen him for nearly 80 years. Their last meeting was in Paris, France nearly 80 years ago. He had thought, as he'd not heard from Duncan in over half a century that Duncan had lost his head to a better swordsmen. But no, Duncan was very much alive, and still the same honorable Scot as always. The joy of learning his fellow clansmen was alive was overshadowed by his now present dilemma. What to do about Brenda and Rachel? The idea that the two women he loved could very well get in the way of yet another immortal fight was an anathema to his soul. He knew in his heart that the time had come to disappear again, to take upon himself a new identity. Russell Nash would have to disappear now. He only hoped that Rachel and Brenda would find it in their hearts to forgive him some day somehow.

Connor turned away from Brenda and strode off in the opposite direction. He had little time to gather what things he would take with him and contact the lawyers that always helped him prepare for his disappearances. Many weeks ago he had included instructions in his will for Brenda's care, just as he had for Rachel. That was one positive thing that came with immortality. He was able to accumulate a large amount of wealth and resources over his long unending life. Since he could not be with them himself, all Connor could do was make sure they would never have to worry about their futures. There was no doubt in his mind to leave Rachel the antiques store. She loved that so much, and as for Brenda, well she was always looking some elusive sword or another so he would make sure she could continue her research with no worries over money. He knew it would never be enough, the money, but that and a short note saying goodbye was all he would leave. It was how it had always been, and he doubted that it would change anytime in the future.