800 words of highlander fic, or 'i really ought to be in bed right now'
Written for the 'first' prompt at the hl_flashfic community. i'm going to cheat and cross-post this to my hl_50 table as well, under one of the writer's choice prompts.
Cardinal Experiences
by auberus
The first time I ever robbed a bank, I went in under-prepared and over-confident. That still didn't stop me from pulling it off. I got away with three million pounds and a bullet in my shoulder, and it was that bullet (rather, the lack thereof) that proved my innocence to the magistrates after the thief-takers caught up with me - which they did, in short order. The next time I robbed a bank, I remembered to keep my face covered.
The first coach I ever held up belonged to the Duke of Burgundy, and he cursed me for an impudent, mis-begotten rogue before discharging his very fancy dueling pistols into my chest at point-blank range while I was busy laughing at him. That one didn't go so well, but I made up for it a week later by holding him up again. That time, I hit him in the head while he was still calling me names, and made off with a small fortune in gold and jewels. The best part was that His Grace was far too embarrassed to alert the authorities.
The first man I ever killed was a footpad in London, while I was still under Matthew's protective aegis. The guy came up behind me with a knife, and he was very surprised when I used mine before he did. It didn't bother me as much as I'd thought it would, and in the end, it made my first Challenge that much easier.
The first time I went to sea, I was thoroughly sick, and Matthew laughed at me. I'm with Ben Pierce on this one -- no reasonable human being can be expected to enjoy an ocean voyage.
The first time I kissed Amanda was also the first time that Duncan MacLeod punched me in the face. It was worth it, especially after Amanda punched him half a second later.
The first time I met Robert deValicourt, I held up his coach and shot him in the chest. When he came looking for satisfaction, I upended a barrel of water on his head and cleared out of Paris. He's still not very fond of me, but after the year and a half we spent in the same cell of the French Resistance, he'd consider it rude to take my head. Besides, he knows that Amanda would nag him mercilessly if he did.
The first time I met Hugh Fitzcairn, we started a fight, burned down a tavern (by accident), took two bullets apiece, and both ended up with a girl at the end of the evening. I liked Fitz. He knew how to live, and if Kalas were still around, I might make an exception to my lack of interest in the Game. When I heard that the bastard was dead, it was the first time I was genuinely grateful to Duncan MacLeod.
The first time I disarmed Matthew in a fair fight, he looked so proud that I thought he might explode. Then he promptly skewered me with the main-gauche. Matthew fights fair, but he's not stupid enough to think that everyone else does, and when I left him I'd been very thoroughly schooled in the fine art of cheating. When I revived, he gave me my first sword, and my first set of daggers. I still have the daggers, though I lost the sword in an encounter with the Kurgan that nearly cost me my head. It's one of the few possessions I've ever regretted losing, but still, better that than my life.
The first car I ever stole was a red 1922 Spyker 30/40 C4 Torpedo, and I loved that car with all my heart. When I finally wrecked it, in a lengthy chase that involved three different sheriff's departments, the FBI, a recalcitrant cow, and a big rock, I wanted to cry, but I was busy escaping from the various law enforcement officers who were, in my opinion, all too eager to discuss my latest escapade with me. I stole a horse in the next town I came to, but it wasn't the same.
The first time I found myself up against an Immortal I could neither beat nor run from, I shot him and took his head. I make no apologies for it, though Matthew would skin me alive if he found out, or maybe even kill me himself. I want to live, damn it, and I don't believe in the Game -- either that it's real or that it's worth playing. I'm eight hundred years old, and I've never seen proof that any religion exists. Why should Immortals be any different?
***
Author's Notes: This is unbeta'd, so please forgive (and feel free to point out) any mistakes. Feedback is a wonderful thing.
Cardinal Experiences
by auberus
The first time I ever robbed a bank, I went in under-prepared and over-confident. That still didn't stop me from pulling it off. I got away with three million pounds and a bullet in my shoulder, and it was that bullet (rather, the lack thereof) that proved my innocence to the magistrates after the thief-takers caught up with me - which they did, in short order. The next time I robbed a bank, I remembered to keep my face covered.
The first coach I ever held up belonged to the Duke of Burgundy, and he cursed me for an impudent, mis-begotten rogue before discharging his very fancy dueling pistols into my chest at point-blank range while I was busy laughing at him. That one didn't go so well, but I made up for it a week later by holding him up again. That time, I hit him in the head while he was still calling me names, and made off with a small fortune in gold and jewels. The best part was that His Grace was far too embarrassed to alert the authorities.
The first man I ever killed was a footpad in London, while I was still under Matthew's protective aegis. The guy came up behind me with a knife, and he was very surprised when I used mine before he did. It didn't bother me as much as I'd thought it would, and in the end, it made my first Challenge that much easier.
The first time I went to sea, I was thoroughly sick, and Matthew laughed at me. I'm with Ben Pierce on this one -- no reasonable human being can be expected to enjoy an ocean voyage.
The first time I kissed Amanda was also the first time that Duncan MacLeod punched me in the face. It was worth it, especially after Amanda punched him half a second later.
The first time I met Robert deValicourt, I held up his coach and shot him in the chest. When he came looking for satisfaction, I upended a barrel of water on his head and cleared out of Paris. He's still not very fond of me, but after the year and a half we spent in the same cell of the French Resistance, he'd consider it rude to take my head. Besides, he knows that Amanda would nag him mercilessly if he did.
The first time I met Hugh Fitzcairn, we started a fight, burned down a tavern (by accident), took two bullets apiece, and both ended up with a girl at the end of the evening. I liked Fitz. He knew how to live, and if Kalas were still around, I might make an exception to my lack of interest in the Game. When I heard that the bastard was dead, it was the first time I was genuinely grateful to Duncan MacLeod.
The first time I disarmed Matthew in a fair fight, he looked so proud that I thought he might explode. Then he promptly skewered me with the main-gauche. Matthew fights fair, but he's not stupid enough to think that everyone else does, and when I left him I'd been very thoroughly schooled in the fine art of cheating. When I revived, he gave me my first sword, and my first set of daggers. I still have the daggers, though I lost the sword in an encounter with the Kurgan that nearly cost me my head. It's one of the few possessions I've ever regretted losing, but still, better that than my life.
The first car I ever stole was a red 1922 Spyker 30/40 C4 Torpedo, and I loved that car with all my heart. When I finally wrecked it, in a lengthy chase that involved three different sheriff's departments, the FBI, a recalcitrant cow, and a big rock, I wanted to cry, but I was busy escaping from the various law enforcement officers who were, in my opinion, all too eager to discuss my latest escapade with me. I stole a horse in the next town I came to, but it wasn't the same.
The first time I found myself up against an Immortal I could neither beat nor run from, I shot him and took his head. I make no apologies for it, though Matthew would skin me alive if he found out, or maybe even kill me himself. I want to live, damn it, and I don't believe in the Game -- either that it's real or that it's worth playing. I'm eight hundred years old, and I've never seen proof that any religion exists. Why should Immortals be any different?
***
Author's Notes: This is unbeta'd, so please forgive (and feel free to point out) any mistakes. Feedback is a wonderful thing.