OK... I know I said I'd never do this.
There are MPEG stories out there that range from sticky (and not in a good way) to basically tormenting whichever guy is the "mother".
Soooo, in a foolish moment, I started one of the genre. Apologies in advance.
Who: Duncan and Methos, Joe and a couple of OFC's
Rating, Well, pre-slash for the most part.
Working title:
“Family Ties”
There was no sound in the darkened room. Then, there was a gasp and a deep breath, drawn in against the pain of returning life. Small flickers of blue light showed through the sheet over a long male figure.
For long moments, the rasping breath was the only sound. Gradually, as awareness returned, the man’s breathing slowed and became quieter. The man on the bed threw back the sheet and staggered upright. He wavered for a moment, unsteady on legs that felt as though he hadn’t used them for a while. Where was he? How long had he been here, days or weeks… ?
His head ached in spite of Immortal healing. A wave of dizziness washed over him and he went to his knees, retching.
He stilled at the sound of someone approaching the door. A key at the lock, then light spilling from the hallway blinded him and the nausea made it impossible to get any idea of the person or persons at the door.
“Awake again? Such resilience. I’m amazed that you still recover so quickly.”
MacLeod fought the nausea and tried to focus on the figure coming into the room.
“I won’t be needing you today, Mr. MacLeod. Get some rest. I’ll send up some food. You’re probably hungry. Or, perhaps not,” she laughed. The figure turned and left, slamming the door behind her.
The bright light had temporarily blinded him and the darkness blinded him again.
Getting to his feet took every bit of strength he had. Slowly, he backed up until he could feel the bed behind him. He felt his way along the side of the bed until he could touch the wall.
He felt his way along the wall. One circuit of the room gave his eyes time to adjust, and now he had some idea of its shape and size. There was a doorway on one side of the bed. Opening it, he found light switch. It was a small bathroom and he took advantage of the sink to wash his mouth out and rinse his face.
A narrow closet held clothes that he recognized as his. There were signs of a struggle in the slashed sleeve of the jacket and turtleneck and there was blood on the jeans. He brushed off as much of the soil as he could and dressed feeling somewhat better. Having clothes on, even disreputable clothes, was better and warmer than being naked.
He could hear someone coming toward the door again. He turned out the light in the bath and moved as quickly as he could, to stand beside the door. There was the sound of a key turning in the lock and the door opened. He waited until the man stepped inside the door, then slammed his head against the frame of the door, knocking him cold.
The tray crashed to the floor, but there was no indication that anyone had heard the noise. The smell of the food was nauseating and dizziness threatened to overwhelm him. He stayed very still, swallowing hard until the feeling passed. Slowly, carefully, he moved to the door, closing it quietly behind him.
There was no sign of life in the hallway. No windows to let him see whether it was day or night, either. There was a door at the end of the hall, but no exit sign. One bare light bulb hung there giving off only enough light for him to see the stairs beyond it. Moving slowly, trying to keep from throwing up, he started down the stairs.
Another light showed him a door at the foot of the stairs. It was dark beyond it and he stopped for a moment, trying to see the surroundings. It was cold and he shivered in spite of the jacket. He could see a streetlight and headed toward it hoping he’d be able to figure out where he was.
An hour later he was pretty sure he wasn’t in a city he knew. The street signs were in English, but none of the names were familiar. His wallet was still in the back pocket of his trousers, but his cell phone was gone and there didn’t seem to be any payphones nearby. His watch was missing too. The trees in the next block proved to be a small park and he settled his aching body on one of the benches.
He must have dozed; the sky was brighter and he could hear cars driving by. In daylight, his clothes looked even worse. He needed to do something about that. There was a connection for a landscaper’s hose and he managed to get some of the dirt and blood out of the turtleneck and jeans. Wet, they were cold and uncomfortable and he found himself hoping he could change soon.
His credit cards were intact. Robbery was apparently not the reason he’d been held captive. He was so tired. Every muscle ached and the persistent nausea was harder and harder to deal with.
Reluctantly, he started walking in hope that he could find a phone.
Walking became a moving meditation. City noises grew louder, they seemed to make the nausea worse. Finally he saw an ATM and withdrew some cash. There was a café on the corner and he went in, but the smells of cooking food were too much and he turned around without pausing.
The next strip mall had a phone and he punched the numbers for Joe’s cell phone.
“Yeah?”
“Joe?”
“Mac! Where the hell have you been.”
“I don’t know… The signs are in English… Joe, the number on this pay phone is 555-555-5555. Can you help?”
“Hang on, Mac. Let me run the number. Will that phone accept incoming calls?”
“I don’t have any idea… I… I need to sit down…” He hung up and then looked around. There was a bus stop in front of one of storefronts. The sign said “Thrift Store”. He needed dry clothes. Abruptly, he decided to go in. It took less than ten minutes to buy jeans and a t-shirt. He borrowed the men’s room to change and washed his face. The face in the mirror startled him. His eyes looked like he’d been in a fight. He had several weeks growth of beard. Nausea hit again and the dry heaves left him hanging on to the tiny sink. He rinsed out his mouth, then drank some of the rusty water.
The clerk paid no attention to him as he left, the clothes he’d worn shoved into a paper bag.
He made his way to the phone and called Joe again.
“Mac?”
“Yeah, Joe. Do you know where this is yet?”
“Yeah, you’re about an hour from Seacouver and Methos is on his way. Give me the address you’re at, or the cross streets.”
He shaded his eyes from the glare. “I’m at Union and 6th… Address on one of the shops… 634 Union.”
“OK. I’ll call him. Stay put. He drives like a maniac anyway, he said he’d get there as fast as he can.”
“Yeah, Joe. I’ll stay put.” He hung up. The bench was close. He slowly walked over and sat down. Methos was on his way. He’d help… Maybe they could figure out what the hell had happened.
He’d been dozing. Then a car pulled up. A familiar voice called, “All right, MacLeod. What have you gotten yourself into now?”
He tried to stand, but the sidewalk wouldn’t stay still. Then Methos put an arm around him and helped him into the car. “Let’s get you home, Mac. You look like hell.”
Methos was quiet and the hum of the motor and the tires against the road lulled him to sleep.
“Mac, we’re at the loft. Come on. Let’s get you into a shower and bed. You’ll be fine.”
He nodded his head. “Yeah… yeah, I just need some sleep.”
Methos moved him into the bathroom. He could hardly stand up and Methos finally growled something that sounded profane and got in the shower with him. The hot water felt good and soothed muscles that felt like they’d ached forever…
He was asleep on his feet when Methos rubbed him dry and rolled him under the down quilt. He never moved.
“Joe, I have him home. He’s not doing too well. How the hell could you lose him for six weeks?”
“He said he was going up to the island. I didn’t even start to worry until last week. He usually checks in with me, even when he’s up there.”
“So as far as you knew, he was on his way there, no last minute change of plans?”
“Tessa’s birthday was August 24th. He seemed to miss her more this year…“
Methos nodded to himself, “Hard to lose someone that special. I called him a couple of times but his voice mail picked it up. I should have known something was up.”
“Methos, we checked on Immortals in the area. Nothing showed up in our records. No one new in town, either.”
“OK, I’ll see what he remembers. Some food should help, too. It doesn’t look like he’s been eating too well.”
“OK, Methos. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
MacLeod moved restlessly on the bed, his dark head shifting on the pillow. Methos heard him and came over to the bed, “Mac? Try and sit up for me.”
Methos brought a tray over to the bedside table. Chicken soup and some tea seemed a better idea than anything heavier.
“Mac, come on, I want you to eat something.”
Methos could see Mac’s jaw working and he suddenly staggered out of the bed and headed for the bathroom.
Alarmed, Methos took the soup and tea back to the kitchen and then followed Mac into the bathroom. “Mac? What happened while you were gone? Do you remember anything at all?”
The man bent almost double over the commode, shook his head.
“Can you get back to the bed? Let me take a look at you. This isn’t normal. We don’t usually stay sick…”
Thirty minutes later, an incredulous Methos was pouring himself a scotch. “I’m not sure how it was done, or why it was done, either. I need to have a currently practicing doctor verify it, but there’s a strong possibility you’re pregnant.”
“I’m what?”
“You heard me, it looks like you’re pregnant.”
“You’re insane!”
“I’m not going to argue with you, MacLeod.“
MacLeod shook his head. Methos waited, watching as Duncan checked off the symptoms in his own mind.
“The symptoms match up, I guess, but how the hell can an Immortal, a male Immortal at that… get pregnant?”
“I don’t know. Mac, something must have happened while you were among the missing. I’m going to go get my old black bag and so I can give you some medication. You’re dehydrated.”
Mac nodded, “I wandered around… I’m not sure where I started from, Methos. Needles in haystacks…”
“Well you finished up in Clairmont, so that seems like a good place to start. So, tomorrow, I think we need to go back there and see if we can find some answers. I’ll be back.” With that, Methos finished the scotch and left.
Mac got up and managed to lock the door behind him. The room stayed fairly steady as he went back to the bed. He was so tired. Was Methos right? What had happened? They needed answers. He was just too tired to think about it right now.
Methos made it back in under an hour and he was relieved to see that Mac had locked the door. It wasn’t a problem for him, he’d never let it stop him before and it certainly didn’t now. Mac was lying on his stomach, a pillow pressed against his mouth.
Methos took a moment to gently stroke his friend’s hair. “You do seem to get into the damnedest situations, Mac. I picked up one of the home test kits, too. Let’s see what it says.”
“What do I need to do?”
“Let me give you a shot, then you can go pee in a cup, and we’ll see what that tells us.”
The bag was opened and a potent anti-nausea drug quickly injected. Duncan went in the bathroom with the test kit.
Methos reheated the soup and made fresh tea. He heard Mac mutter something, then he came out with the strip in his hand. “It says congratulations…”
Methos tried not to smile at the chagrined look on his friend’s face. “Well… At least we have a starting point. What’s the last thing you do remember, Mac?”
MacLeod stretched out on the bed and sipped at the tea. “I had an appraisal over in Clairmount. The woman… Her name was Larchmount, Mrs. Andrew Larchmount. She said they wanted an insurance appraisal on a piece they’d brought back from an European trip.”
“That’s not unusual for you, is it?”
“No… but there was something… “
“Do you think you could find your way back there?”
“Now that the world isn’t spinning out from under me, yeah, I had the address… Methos, I left the car there. My notes would have been back at her house, too.”
“The car’s here. That’s why Joe thought you were back from the island.”
Mac shook his head, “I never got back here. I was getting ready to leave for the island when she called. Said another client had referred her to me. I thought I’d put my things in the car and leave from there.”
Mac dressed quickly, got the spare key from his desk and headed for the door with Methos right behind him.
The car was dusty, obviously it had been sitting for some time. Parking tickets were tucked under the windshield wiper. Mac unlocked the car and looked inside. The notebook was lying on the passenger seat, and the keys were on the floor half under the driver’s seat.
The travel bag and his katana were safely locked in the trunk. Methos picked them up and Duncan grabbed his keys and the notebook. Mac was white as a sheet but he held off the nausea until they were safely back in the loft with the door locked and bolted.
“It doesn’t work long enough, Methos…”
“I’ve never used it on a man. Dosage is probably too low, or your Immortality is throwing it off.”
“Is there another drug, anything…”
“There are several, but I need to see if they’re safe to use. Can I use your laptop?”
Mac waved him over, then curled up on the bed with a pillow against his chest.
The medical sources were abundant and it took only minutes to check side effects and cautions. “Mac, I’m going to give you another shot. Then I want you to rest. OK?”
The drug seemed to help almost immediately. Duncan was up and pacing. “This is insane, I can’t believe any part of it.”
“Are you still friendly with that lady doctor?”
“Ann? Yes, but I can’t tell her about this.”
“Mac, we need information. I really need to be sure that you are pregnant and how far along you are. I don’t even know how a placenta would be attached.”
Methos stopped. Mac looked away from him. “Can’t you tell some other way? I know the midwife in our village could examine the women.”
“She was dealing with women. She’d probably known them since they were very young. It’s been years since I handled a pregnancy, Mac. Even knowing female anatomy is no help here. You do remember that the internal set up on males is different.”
Mac threw him a filthy look, “I don’t want to call her, Methos. She’s made a life for herself and I just can’t interfere…”
Methos glared at him. “I don’t know any other way to get the information we need. Do you?”
The silence went on for several minutes. Methos focused on keeping quiet. MacLeod was going to have to make the decision himself. There was a time element to consider. How much time? That could be determined more easily with the modern equipment. Not for the first time Methos wondered how Duncan MacLeod had managed to get so thoroughly under his skin.
“There is no other way? You don’t have someone else we could go to?”
“This isn’t something just anyone can handle. Ann knows about Immortals and has access to equipment we can use to determine what’s developing in there. If it has to be removed, it should be done soon.”
“Removed?”
One look at MacLeod’s face made it clear that he hadn’t even really accepted the possibility of the pregnancy, let alone the complications of that pregnancy.
Mac turned away from his friend, starring out the window of the loft but the unnatural stillness of his body hinted of an explosion to come.
Quietly Methos moved to stand beside his friend. “We need to call her, Mac. If I know what the situation is I can work with you whatever you decide to do, but we’re flying blind, here.”
Duncan’s face was white as a sheet. It was obvious that he was barely holding on. “You’re right. Methos, can you talk to her? I… I don’t think I can tell her about it. Not her.”
He punched in the numbers, then, as the phone began to ring he handed it to Methos and went out to the kitchen area. Nervously he began to make coffee only to find that the smell of it was making him nauseated. He hurled the glass coffee maker at the wall getting little satisfaction as it shattered.
He could hear Methos talking, but he was speaking softly and Mac couldn’t make out what he was saying.
Methos came in behind him, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll cope, Mac. Between us we’ve got one hell of a lot of experience.”
MacLeod still wouldn’t look at him. “What did she say?”
“We’re to go to the hospital around three this morning. She’ll do a work up. She’ll tell us all she can. I vetoed the DNA sampling. We can do it later if it has any importance.”
“I broke the coffee pot.”
“It’s OK, Mac. You have another one. I can make it if you like.”
MacLeod shook his head. “It smelled awful.”
Methos could see the pulse in Duncan’s throat. It was increasing and the pallor was back. His breathing rate was increasing and becoming shallow. “I need to have you come in and sit down.”
He got Duncan settled on the couch and gave him another dose of the anti-nausea medication, this time increasing the amount. Duncan seemed to relax a little, his breathing slower and deeper.
Methos decided to drive. MacLeod was silent all the way there. They arrived just after three in the morning. Ann met them at the door of the clinic and took them into one of the exam rooms.
“Hello, Duncan.” She smiled at him, trying to get him to relax. “You look good with a beard.” She turned on the machines, seeing the man she’d loved shiver as the screens came alive. “I have the ultrasound and other machines disconnected from the main computer. I’ll handle the blood tests myself. Sometimes I do that for young women who aren’t anxious for anyone to know about the pregnancy. No one will be inquisitive. Will you let me examine you?”
Duncan was blushing, totally humiliated by the situation. “Ann, this isn’t something I did. It was done to me by strangers and…” He shook his head. There really wasn’t anything to say.
Ann brought over a flannel sheet. “Duncan, I need to have you get undressed and sit up at the foot of the table. You can use this instead of a gown. I’ll be back in a minute.”
She left and Duncan started to take off his shirt. He glanced up at Methos, “Turn around… please. I just…”
“Sure, Mac. Do you want me to leave?”
“No… God, Methos, I just can’t believe this. I don’t know what to do.”
“Take it one step at a time, Mac, one step at a time. Let me help.”
Methos took Mac’s shirt and helped him get the slacks off. “You’ll need to take those off, too.” He said pointing at the briefs.”
Mac tried to glare, but the attempt was half hearted at best.
He was on the examining table, the sheet pulled up to his chin, when Ann came back.
“Try to relax, Duncan. Have you ever had a physical exam before?”
“In France during World War One and the UK, England during World War Two.”
For a minute, Ann looked startled. If he hadn’t looked so upset she might have said something rude, “Warm body exam?”
She could see his friend, Adam watching her and shaking his head “No”. She wondered if he was an Immortal, too. She was fairly sure Amanda was and Joe wasn’t. Richie had been…
Duncan was shivering even though the room was kept warm for the patients. Pulse rate was very high and he was having trouble breathing. Panic attack? “Duncan, try to relax. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”
Reluctantly, Duncan stretched out on the examining table. A six foot male didn’t fit well on the examining table. Ann waited until he was able to get settled before she started.
Two hours later, Ann followed them over to the Dojo. Adam gave Duncan another shot and fixed coffee for the three of them.
“The tests indicate you’re 30-35 days pregnant. The sonogram is showing a small sac anchored to the muscles of the abdominal wall, just behind the navel. There‘s a set of timed release depoprevara inserts attached to it. That would account for the hormonal changes allowing implantation of a fertilized egg. Tissues appear to be developing around it. The fetus appears normal and the small sample I took of the fluid in the sac matches your blood type.”
Adam put his coffee down. “Is there any indication of an incision?”
“No, but Duncan healed immediately from the blood draw so I don’t think there would be. The abdominal muscles should protect the fetus the same way the uterus does in a normal pregnancy. Duncan, You’ll need to have a c-section, or I could operate now. There isn’t much risk for you.”
MacLeod looked at her, “Is there any chance that I can have this child?”
Adam and Ann both looked as though he’d lost his mind. “There’s no way for me to answer that, Duncan. The differences between a non-Immortal man and an Immortal one don’t show. I checked, but I found nothing reliable on pregnancy in a male, other than seahorses.”
Adam went to him, “Duncan, this could be dangerous.”
“It’s normal. He or she is normal. It’s a gamble, but I have to try…it may be my only chance…”
Ann was remembering his joy when she told him she was going to have the baby and the pain in his eyes when she told him she couldn’t stay. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to get back to her daughter, away from the world of the Immortals. “I’ll leave it up to you, Duncan. Call me and let me know what you decide.” She put the stack of papers on the table and turned to go.
‘”Doctor, “said Adam. “I’ll talk to him.”
Ann nodded to him. “Duncan you have my pager and cell phone numbers. I’d rather this didn’t go through the hospital switchboard.”
He nodded.
Methos said, “Agreed. Thank you, Doctor.”
Everything was still after she left. The room seemed cold and damp. Duncan took the papers and started going through them. Methos came over to sit beside him. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Methos, you’ve raised children, normal children?”
“Yes. Several wives of mine had children. I raised them. I loved them and I buried them, too.”
“I know there are going to be problems. If I have to, I’ll live on Holy Ground.” Duncan stood, staring out the window for a minute, “Methos, I want this child.”
Methos sighed but nodded his head. “I guess I’ll just have to update Doctor Benjamin Adams’ credentials.”
The smile Duncan gave him made Methos grin back. “We’ll get started in the morning. First thing we need to do is check out that house.”
After Duncan went to bed, Methos sighed. He couldn’t blame MacLeod for wanting the child, but they needed to find out how it had been done, too, and… God, he hadn’t really thought about the complications. How could Mac fight if he was carrying 20 to 30 extra pounds in his belly and what in hell would a Quickening do to him? What would it do to a child? Would his immortality allow the healthy growth of a child? Would it be considered something that had to be eliminated by the healing processes?
They decided to take Methos’ SUV. The T-Bird wasn’t suited to clandestine sneaking.
“That’s the house”
“It’s for sale…” said Methos.
“I don’t remember seeing the sign, I think I would have noticed that.
We need to get inside, Methos. How long will this drug work?”
“Hard to say, but I brought another couple of doses with me. You should be OK for several hours.”
Methos didn’t say anything more as he pulled the car around the back of the house and got out to look around. Duncan followed, still feeling a bit shaky, but desperate to find some answers.
They looked in the windows, “Not much dust in the kitchen”, said Methos. “They can’t have been gone too long.”
Duncan nodded. The door was closed, but the lock yielded to persuasions he’d learned from long association with Amanda. Quietly the two men began looking through the rest of the house.
Opening off the front hallway was a large room with a fireplace and built-in bookshelves. There was a lot less in the way of dust and Methos could see marks on the floor where furniture, or something, had been moved.
“Does this look familiar?”
Duncan looked around, scanning the walls, windows and fireplace. “It was getting dark. I remember that the drapes were heavy, dark red, I think, almost completely closed. I asked her to turn on more lights so I could check on the construction of the piece. There was a fire in the fireplace…” He walked over and sniffed, “There’s been a fire here recently, but it’s been swept out, no sign of ashes.”
“We aren’t going to find anything in this room. Someone did a through job on the clean-up.”
“I can call the real estate company. If the people who did this were the people who listed it, there should be a trail…”
“Bright boy. But, just in case, I’ll do the calling. There’s no chance they’ll recognize me.”
Duncan nodded, then turned pale. “Methos…”
“Out to the car, Duncan.”
They made it outside with Duncan gritting his teeth. Methos administered the shot and the two men sat quietly in the car waiting for the medication to ease the nausea.
As Duncan’s color came back, Methos got his cell phone out and punched in the number on the real estate sign. A woman’s cheerful voice answered, “Century 21, this is Meg, how can I help you?”
“I just saw a sign over on Hillside Drive, nice looking colonial… Has it been on the market long? I was driving out here several weeks ago and didn’t remember the sign.”
“Let me look it up for you… I have one at 3189 Hillside… but that’s a rambler. Oh, here it is, 7854 Hillside Drive, the professor’s house.”
“The professor’s house?”
“Yes, the owner was teaching at the university, some sort of research. I remember something about an accident. We’ve shown the house several times, but his attorney isn’t rushing us… Would you like to meet me there?”
“How old is the house?”
“It was built in the early 50’s but it’s been kept up. I can meet you there if you like.”
Duncan listened as Methos agreed to let her show him the house. “I want to see her, if she’s involved, maybe we can convince her to explain what they did.”
“I don’t think you should be here, MacLeod. Let me see what she says and how she acts. If she is involved, I don’t want to tip her off.”
“Methos, I want to see for myself if she’s responsible for the mess I’m in. I need answers!”
“Mac, this is a case of somewhere to start. OK?”
Mac shook his head. “This whole thing is impossible. I know that. Immortals not even Immortal women, have children.”
“Let me talk to her, Mac. If you do recognize her, we can question her. If you don’t, we have to find another angle.”
MacLeod shook his head, but walked slowly back to the car. Methos was surprised to see him get in the back seat. Then he realized that the tinted windows would allow Mac to look out, but he couldn’t be seen.
A few minutes later, they could see a new Mustang drive up to the door.
The blond woman who got out was twentyish and quick to hand Methos the information sheet on the house. Methos looked it over. “So the house has been on the market for ten months?”
“Yes, we thought we had a sale, but the buyer decided at the last minute that it was too big for her. So, it’s available and all the appropriate title searches have been done. Will your wife be coming to see it? I can leave a key with you if …”
“No, that won’t be necessary. What can you tell me about the other buyer? Are you sure she won’t come back at the last moment and buy it out from under my nose?” he asked with a charming smile.
“Well, one of the neighbors said she saw a moving van but it was gone the next day. No sign of life. Then the buyer called to say she’d changed her mind. I haven’t heard anything more from her.”
“That’s reassuring. I need to contact my attorney and see what assets need to be transferred to handle the down payment. May I call you later in the week?”
The woman looked disappointed, “I could get the paperwork started…”
“Thank you, but that isn’t necessary. As I said, I was driving by and called on impulse. I always take time on major purchases.”
“Well,” she said as she walked back to her car, “Keep the number. If this one isn’t what you want, there are other places available.”
Methos smiled at her and waved as she drove off. When she was completely out of sight, he walked back to the car. Mac moved to the front seat, frowning.
“I don’t know her, Methos. Could I be wrong? Could it be the wrong house?”
Methos turned the car around and headed them back to Seacouver. “No, Mac I think it is the right house, but it doesn’t look like she had anything to do with the kidnapping.”
Methos made several phone calls the next morning. Then he and Duncan sat down to figure out the practicalities. “I’m registered for a twelve week OB refresher course at the American Hospital in Paris in two weeks. Dr. Adams’ house in Paris will be ready for us by Friday. Once I have the certification, we can decide if we want to stay there or go somewhere else.”
“You’d go through all this for me?”
“Duncan, being around you has always been dangerous, but never boring. If you really want to be a… parent, I’m willing to have a go at being your… obstetrician.”
Duncan hugged him, and went to shower and change.
Both men had connections and it only took a few days to set up new identities. Everything was ready, but Joe had to be told something. All he knew was that Mac had been kidnapped and was ill because of it.
“We’re going to be out of town for a while, Joe,” said MacLeod. “Probably London first then I’m not sure, but I’ll use one of the e-mail drops to get word to you. This can’t go in the Watcher records.”
Joe looked from one of them to the other. “And you’re not going to tell me why, are you? Somebody from your past or his,” he said pointing a finger at Methos.
“Hey, I’m just an innocent bystander, Joe. My God, you’ve got a suspicious mind.”
“Yeah, and you’re one of the reasons, Adam. A main reason.”
Duncan put a hand on Joe’s arm. “I would tell you if I could. You’re safer not knowing. We need to go underground for a few months, and I’ll explain as soon as I can. Are you willing to trust me that far?”
“Oh, I trust you. I’m just not sure I trust your skinny friend.”
“Joe, you wound me! I am cut to the quick, deeply hurt… I am not skinny!”
Joe started laughing. “All right, but damn it, you keep an eye on each other. If some body does kill Methos I’ll never get that damn bar tab paid off.”
Methos finished his beer, “I do have something I’d like checked out.” He handed Joe a note pad. “See what you can find on this property and anything else they might own. One for the road.”
Moments later, they were picked up by one of the airport shuttles. The swords had gone off that morning, shipped as antique weapons for sale. Methos felt very naked, but it wouldn’t help matters any to try and smuggle his favorite daggers aboard.
His little black bag and the fact that he was traveling as personal physician to a noted art collector, Dr. Matthew McPherson-MacLeod, got them aboard quietly and the plane left on time.
All through the long flight, Methos worried about the situation. Duncan was maintaining a quiet determination to go through with the pregnancy if there was any way to do it. Methos almost envied him the certainty. All he was certain of was that it was going to be a miserable and very dangerous time for both of them.
The anti-nausea meds were loosing their effectiveness and it was a near thing getting them to what Methos referred to as “The Mausoleum”. Once the house had been a day’s ride from Paris. Dr. Benjamin Adams and his “descendants” still owned it. The carriage house had been home to the same family of caretakers since Napoleon’s time. He hadn’t used it for a while, but his tenants had e-mailed him, assuring him that all the preparations he requested had been handled. The guest suite was ready for Duncan and there were groceries, including beer and an assortment of good local wines in the remodeled kitchen.
Methos heated some soup, but Duncan looked a little green.
“Would you understand if I just headed for bed tonight, Methos?”
In the morning, they looked around the outside property. Methos noted some minor repairs the house needed. He wasn’t overly happy with some of the changes in the area. “Apparently, they’ve lost some of the trees along the wall. We still have a lot of cover, but for safety’s sake, we probably should stay in side.”
“I have things I can do. There’s information on the net, too. Maybe we can find the people who did this.” It didn’t take that long for Duncan to create an Internet identity that went through several cutouts.
A week later, Methos began his classes. In spite of the urgent reason for them, he found that he was actually enjoying himself. He was rather intrigued with the new developments in pre and neo-natal care.
Most evenings they sat by the fire and looked through the materials Methos was using.
A few days after the start of Methos’ classes, Duncan came in to find “Dr. Adams” looking through medical supply house catalogues. “What’s up with the fancy machines? You’ve never needed them before.”
“You are, to put it gently, a “High Risk” patient, Mac. Officially, I’m researching recent developments in Obstetrics for the Genesis Foundation. Dr. Adams really is the Director of Research. I own the Foundation. It funnels money into family clinics in the Third World. After our need for them is over, the machines will go to Afghanistan.”
“After the baby’s born… I like that idea. Sometimes you surprise me.”
“I keep a low profile. In 5,000 years, you can do a lot of things.”
The nausea continued to be a problem. Methos tried everything from herbs to the latest medications, but it MacLeod wasn’t gaining weight the way Methos had expected.
Methos sat him down one evening and started working on the Shiatsu points Lung 9 and Heart 7. It helped some and the ginger chamomile tea soothed Duncan’s touchy stomach enough to get to sleep. The treatments seemed to help. At least Duncan was getting more sleep than he’d been getting.
One night Methos heard sounds in the guest room and found Duncan tangled in the sheets struggling to free himself. “Duncan, you’re safe. You’re in my house in France. It’s OK…”
The panic in his twisting and turning was getting worse. “Mac, wake up. You’re safe.” He gently placed a hand on Duncan’s shoulder and slowly, the tremors eased off.
Breakfast was quiet. Duncan seemed restless. “You know, Mac, you never really asked me about the house. Would you like the shilling tour?”
“Tour? I guess we have been busy with other things. Sure, Methos.”
“The main hallway was built about 1280 by ________. Most of the rest was added later, first by returning Templars, then, after they were disbanded 1309, an old friend received it from Phillip. The king wanted it searched, but they didn’t find anything.”
“A lot of the Templars found refuge in Scotland. Phillip owed them money, didn’t he?”
“Of course. The official reason was that they had heretical practices.”
“I think that came later. I know that originally, they were supposed to protect the travelers on the way to Jerusalem.”
“They became wealthy. There are all kinds of stories about that… Then they began lending money, to Phillip as well as other well placed people. They rivaled the Pope in that respect.”
“Hamza always said they were worse than the bandits. The pilgrims needed protection from them.”
“Well… Sometimes stories improve in the telling. You know that.” Methos led off toward the main hall.
“The east wing is a chapel, part of the Commanderie. I made sure it was re-consecrated about 1730 by Darius, just to be sure that it was Holy Ground. He always liked it here. I disappeared during the Revolution, but once the dust cleared, I came back and made repairs. Darius visited then, too. I told you I had a vineyard…”
“I remember.”
They wandered through the newer part of the house. The kitchen was state of the art at one end but Methos had kept the massive fireplace.
“Roasted any oxen lately?”
“Not lately, Mac, but you never know…”
Methos left for his seminar and Duncan went to his room for a nap. Just walking around the house had tired him badly.
After dinner, Methos put a hand on Duncan’s shoulder, “I think you may be remembering what happened to you in your dreams. You were muttering about not being able to get loose. Have you any idea what that’s about?”
“Nothing clear. We looked at the china cabinet and I think I told her that it had been put together from two fairly modern pieces… The type of nails, the kind of wood… It was beautiful, but not an antique.
“I remember saying I was sorry it wasn’t terribly valuable. I think she said something about my waiting to talk to her husband, but I really didn’t want to wait. I offered to e-mail her a detailed analysis to show him. She offered me a drink and left the room to get his business card… Then nothing until I woke up in that room.”
“Obviously, they drugged you. Duncan, if you remember anything, no matter how trivial it may seem…”
Mac nodded.
They spent the next weekend setting up the new diagnostic machines Methos had ordered for “Dr. Adams”. Methos scanned the manuals, making certain he hadn’t missed anything. Then he began testing. The more information they had the better for both doctor and patient.
Duncan stripped off his shirt and slacks. Methos wasn’t happy to see the continuing weight loss. His ribs were showing. Methos didn’t like his pallor either.
The small bulge of the pregnancy, at ten weeks was showing low in his belly. Methos moved the small scanner over Duncan’s abdomen. The new screen made the color images very clear. The fetal heartbeat was strong. Duncan’s hand moved to touch the swelling. “He’s real, Methos… or she…”
“Do you want me to find out which it is?”
Duncan looked down at his belly. “No. If I can follow through on this, we’ll know soon enough.”
Later that evening as Methos studied, Duncan came to stand beside him. “Methos, I need to start eating, I know that. Can you get hold of some oatmeal for me?”
“Sure. You aren’t going to ask for haggis, are you?”
The laugh was the first one Methos had heard from his friend in months. “Not till he or she is a little older.”
The house alarms went off just as Methos’ cell phone rang, “Switch off the alarms, Mac.” H picked up the phone, “Yes?”
“Are you goin’ to leave me out on the doorstep all night?”
Methos sighed and muttered as he went to let Joe Dawson in. They came in, bickering.
Mac looked up, “I thought you were staying in the states. What are you doing here?”
“Hi Mac. So what’s really going on? You guys aren’t in London and I get these “having a wonderful time, glad you’re not here”, kinda notes from your buddy. He’s good at avoiding direct questions…” he looked a little more closely at MacLeod. “Damn, Mac. I thought you guys couldn’t get sick?”
Methos poured a drink for Joe, “Get sick? Oh, we can get sick, but we usually don’t stay that way.”
“And?”
“You might want to sit down, Dawson. It seems that the kidnappers did more than just grab Mac.”
Duncan stood up, “It’s OK Methos, I can tell him myself. Joe, I’m… pregnant. We came here so “Doctor Adams”, can handle any complications. The nausea… morning sickness, though it seems to run all day…”
Joe sat, nearly spilling his drink in the process. “You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack,” said Methos. “I didn’t want you to worry since there wasn’t a lot you could do. Mac is safe here and I’m taking care of him.”
Joe took a deep breath and a healthy gulp of his drink. “The Watchers have always been told that pregnancy was impossible, even for a female Immortal. Male Immortals… How in hell did it happen, Mac?”
MacLeod shook his head. “I wish I could tell you. I called you as soon as I got away from them, but I can’t remember anything but a woman’s voice coming out of the shadows.”
“What did she sound like?”
Mac was still for a moment, “Her voice was rough, as though she’d been shouting at people…”
“Did you guys ever try to find the building?”
Methos shook his head. “We went back to the house but I didn’t want him to take any more chances, Joe. We didn’t want them to have another shot at him and they obviously did have his address.” said Methos.
“We needed to get away. I don’t know whether they deliberately picked me up because I’m Immortal, or I was just in the right place at the wrong time.”
Joe nodded, “Either one is possible. Methos, we checked out the house. The tax records show the owner as a Mrs. Langdon. She was a widow. The late husband was a specialist genetics. He was killed in an accident about eighteen months ago. Car tried to take a curve too fast and fetched up against a tree.”
Methos looked thoughtful for a minute, “Could the death have been faked?”
“It seemed to be straight forward. Of course, anything’s possible.”
Mac was looking very uncomfortable and excused himself.
Methos watched, then turned to Joe, “I was hoping we had the nausea under control.”
“Methos, this is pretty hard to believe. There’s no doubt that Mac’s pregnant? It isn’t a tumor? Something gone wrong in his system?”
“No doubt. I’ve checked every possibility I could think of, and the scans show a fetus, developing normally, in spite of Mac’s Immortality and the problems with the nausea.”
Joe took a long, slow sip of his drink. “He’s always wanted a child… Jeeze, Methos. No wonder you two hid out. I won’t note any of this in the Chronicles, not even my private ones.”
Methos nodded. “This could make a major difference in the Game, Joe. If the child is Immortal, there are a lot of Immortals who would use the technique to raise Immortals loyal to them, a private army… Bad news for all of us.”
“That could make Kell look like an amateur.”
Both men were quiet for a moment. “And he’s going through with this?”
Methos shrugged. “Yeah, I have tried to get him to look at the problems we’re likely to have, but he feels like he has a chance for a family. You know how important family has always been to him.”
Joe finished his drink, “If he isn’t eating, how can the baby be healthy?”
“The fetus takes what it needs from its parent. That’s always been true. I’ve been giving him things like Pedialyte to keep him hydrated and to keep the electrolytes balanced, but he’s still lost weight. I’m hoping that as he goes into the second trimester, the nausea will ease off.
“Seems to me I’ve heard of a lot of cases where the nausea lasts a lot longer.”
“Thank you so much, Joe. Don’t even mention it to Duncan.”
Joe shook his head, “You’ll need to do a Caesarean, won’t you?”
“Unless something changes radically in the next six months…”
Duncan took a hot shower then wrapped himself in a heavy terrycloth robe. He was tired and really didn’t feel like talking about the baby. He put protective hands over the small swelling in his abdomen. Methos understood, but he wasn’t sure he could make it clear to Joe.
He got under the warm down quilt and tried to nap. The tiredness was worse. He didn’t want to leave the house, either. What would he do if he met another Immortal who wouldn’t be talked out of a fight? His katas were off, just slightly. The exercises he’d done for centuries were awkward, his center had changed and kept changing. He was working constantly to hold on to it. There was no doubt that he wasn’t in the best shape for a fight and he simply could not ask Methos to put himself at risk.
His tired body eased into sleep and he dreamed. He could hear voices and feel heat on his belly. Then something cold brushed over him and there was a sharp pain. He could feel something pulling at his belly. He tried to get away, but broad straps across his chest and thighs kept him still
“Are you sure this will work?”
“He’s very healthy and other than healing very fast, he seems quite normal. Our son should develop into a healthy baby.”
“Son! I told you I wanted a daughter. You promised me a daughter!” The woman’s voice was shrill, madness lurked at the edge of it.
“Now, Elaine, we talked about it. This MacLeod is healthy and we can keep him here long enough for your daughter, too. My son must come first. That was the deal we made.”
The voices faded and the dreams changed. He was facing Kalas with a child in his arms. “That’s not going to help, Highlander. I don’t care about that child. I can’t have one so neither can you.” The blade was too fast and suddenly he was holding the headless, bloody corpse of his child.
Then he was being held. Another voice was talking to him. “Easy, Duncan… You had another dream. Can you remember any of it?”
He took the water Methos held out to him. Then told him about the dream. “Methos, we can’t stay here. I can’t fight. I can’t ask you to fight for me either…”
“We can stay, Mac. Holy Ground isn’t something an Immortal will violate.”
“You’re forgetting Kell.”
Methos glared at him. “You know, you have a talent for the exceptions.”
“And they aren’t Immortal. Holy Ground won’t mean anything to them.”
Methos shrugged, “This place won’t be easy to get into. The security system is state of the art. I haven’t survived all these years by taking foolish chances. Relax, Duncan. Once the baby is born, we can head to another property of mine in Tuscany. I’d like to see if the vineyard is still producing grapes. Warm, fairly dry and small towns with excellent food, too”
“They’re looking for me, Methos. I know it.”
“We covered our trail, Mac. Disappearing is an art form I’ve practiced for years.”
Mac walked over to the window. “I know you were careful, but what if they do track us down?”
“We’ll deal with them. I have no doubt that they’re over the line, Mac, and I won’t hesitate to protect you and the child.”
Mac turned to his friend. “My son, Methos… A son, I can’t let anything happen to him.”
For the first time, Methos found himself hoping that they could carry this off and that at least one Immortal could have a child of his own to love.
Joe stayed for a week then headed back, “You guys ain’t there to keep me solvent so I have to get back to work. Look, Methos, you’d better tell me what’s really going on. No more fancy footwork, OK?”
Duncan could keep small amounts of food down now, but was starting to show hormonal fluctuations. He’d always tried to keep a leash on his emotions. A trained killer can’t afford to blow up at everything and everyone around him. Now it was getting harder and harder to handle the mood swings.
“Would you relax a little more if we sparred?”
“I’m not sure I can just spar, Methos. What happens if I lose it?”
“I hit you in the head and wait for you to come to your senses.”
Duncan tried not to laugh, but it wasn’t easy. “Damn, I still can’t eat more than a few bites at a time, now this…”
“Your mother did it. So do many women. You just happen to be male. Think of it, Mac. You can really understand the female point of view.”
“Methos… I don’t know that I really wanted to understand it that well.”
“Duncan, you don’t have to go through with it.”
For a moment Duncan turned away. “I don’t know if I can go through with it, Methos. The constant pain, as though something is tearing through my vitals, the nausea is still with me… Half the time I want to kill the people who did this to me… But, I want this child. I want to teach him how to live. I want him to know his family. If he’s pre-immortal, I want to give him what I’ve learned. The Game doesn’t always mean you have no friends.”
Methos sighed, “I said I’d back you up and I meant it.”
Duncan turned to his friend, “Thank you. I wouldn’t have made it through the last few months...”
“Mac, you’re a survivor. I’m just here… Well, I’m just here.”
Two weeks later, Methos was wakened out of a sound sleep by a shout from Duncan.
When he got there, Duncan was standing beside the bed cradling his belly. “He moved, Methos! He moved.”
“Let’s go downstairs. I want to take a look.”
Duncan sat on the table, “Turn the screen so I can see it, Methos.”
“Just a minute, Mac. I need to be sure it’s set properly.”
Methos looked closely at the screen while “calibrating” the machine, but everything looked normal and he turned it so Mac could watch.
Methos applied the gel and began running the transducer over MacLeod’s abdomen, he could see that the sac was thinning slightly along the bottom and something he hadn’t noticed before. He quietly made note of it, but the sac was still thick enough to handle the growing weight of the baby. One thing worried him, though. It looked like the upper part of the placenta was attaching itself to the major abdominal artery. If so, Duncan was going to have to be careful as the baby grew. Something had to be devised to hold the weight so that a sudden fall or blow wouldn’t tear something important loose. Duncan could recover but the baby would either suffocate or bleed to death before Methos could get him safely out.
Mac had one hand on the screen picking out the barely discernable legs and body. Methos enlarged the view so they both could make out the tiny heart beating.
“He’s an active little guy, isn’t he? The books say babies have active and sleep times even before they’re born. Are you taping it?”
Methos nodded. “Of course. It goes in the vault with everything else. Shall we see if you’re up to some dinner, OK?”
MacLeod did manage to eat a little, but seemed to tire quickly. “Come-on, young man. I’ll even tuck you in.”
Duncan pulled off his shirt and slacks and slid under the quilts. The room seemed cold and MacLeod shivered. Methos sighed, took off his jeans and lay down beside the younger man. “I’ll stay with you tonight, Mac. Just go to sleep. I’ll be here.”
Several times during the night MacLeod began twisting, crying in his sleep. Each time, Methos gathered him in and held him close. Finally, both of them slept.
Late the next day, while Duncan was exercising, Methos finished cleaning up and went to his desk. First things first. He was fairly certain that he was right about what he’d seen in the scan. They looked like amniotic sheets. The sac must have some scaring. This could be a problem if it continued to show up in the scans. Frequently they were broken or torn by the normal movements of the baby, but occasionally they did wind around the limbs. That, and his concerns about the placenta gave him cold chills. Nothing to do but wait and keep a very close eye on his patient.
There were two messages from Joe waiting in his e-mail, both marked priority. “Call me, secure line”
“Now what?’ he muttered. “Things were so nice and quiet…”
It took a few moments to make sure of security, then Joe’s familiar voice, “Methos, the cops just found the body of a man and they have at tentative ID on him, Eric Langdon, and they’re looking for his wife, since she identified the other body… I’d be a little cautious if I were you. I still can’t find anything on Elaine’s location.”
“I don’t see how she could follow us.”
“Listen, “Dr. Adams”, I’m telling you she’s loose. My informant in the SPD says privately, she’s crazy. I don’t know what they were doing for the last couple of years, but they did own a building in Clairmount. I checked, but it was torn down about three months ago to make room for a strip mall.”
“No records on the building? Nothing else?”
“Not much. One thing. I managed to get hold of medical records on her from a doctor she was seeing seven years ago.”
“Fertility specialist?”
“Yep, and he wasn’t the first. Then, about five years ago, she met Eric Langdon, researcher in genetics.”
“So, she married him and set up a lab with one goal in mind.”
“According to his former admin, he never wanted anyone to go into the lab. Very delicate experiments…”
“And no one twigged?”
“I think that’s why they staged the accident. A couple of his colleagues had started asking questions about his research. Probably couldn’t have hidden it much longer…”
“The accident didn’t get flagged?”
“She said he’d been drinking, something he didn’t do as a rule. She blamed his friends for encouraging him. They were celebrating a birthday, I think.”
“Grieving widow shrieking at the investigators…perfect.”
“There wasn’t any reason to suspect anything. She’d been shopping. Money wasn’t a factor, all he had was his salary from the college so there wasn’t much of an estate. His wife owned everything.”
“Joe, is it possible she’s an Immortal?”
“Hell, anything is possible, you know damn well we don’t have all of you guys in our files.”
“I’ll do some checking, not that I know all of the Immortals out there…”
“Jeeze, Adam, if she is, it makes her even more dangerous. Even as a mortal, the money and obsession is…”
“If she is an Immortal it would add to her desperation. She wants a child. Somehow they created the possibility and I’d be willing to bet she feels she can repeat the experiment. Did the paper publish a picture?”
“Yeah, I just scanned it. It’ll be in the next e-mail.”
“OK. Send everything you can. Mac is not to know. He doesn’t need this.”
“I’ll stay on it from here, but you be careful.”
Methos swore as he hung up.
Duncan’s voice came from the door, “What’s wrong?”
“How much did you hear?”
“Just Joe going on about you needing to be careful. Who has money of her own?”
“Damn, Mac… You don’t have to worry about this. Joe and I can handle it.”
“We’ve been honest with each other on this right from the beginning. Don’t start playing games now, Methos.”
Methos opened the e-mail from Joe and turned the monitor so Duncan could see it. “Does this woman look familiar to you?”
Duncan was trembling and looked as though he’d been gut punched. “That’s her. She’s the one at the house… Wanted for questioning?”
“Joe says they found her husband, the one who was supposed to be dead… He is now, anyway.”
“They think she killed him?”
“All the paper says is wanted for questioning.”
Mac sat down abruptly, “We need to know where she is. We need to know if the police pick her up.”
“Yes, “ said Methos, “and Joe will let us know what’s going on.”
The rest of the evening was strained. Duncan seemed unable to sit still, pacing, then trying to sit and read, then over to the windows to watch the rain. Methos finished going through his mail and stood up, “Would you like some tea?”
“Would a drink bother the baby?”
“I don’t think one would hurt. We’re passed the most critical stage of development.
Duncan poured himself a small brandy. The two if them sat quietly, watching the fire. Duncan finished the brandy and turned to his friend, “Methos, you said this was dangerous. You may well be right. If anything happens, will you make me a promise?”
“Look, Mac… Odds are, the cops will find her within a couple of days. All we really need to worry about is a name and whether we want him to grow up in Italy or…”
A warm hand covered his. “His name is Adam, Adam Jonathan MacLeod, Jonathon for my father. And Italy will be fine. You can teach him a dozen languages and take him to Bora Bora with you.”
“Mac… This is some notion you’ve cooked up out of mixed-up hormones and panic over this woman. You need some sleep. “Adam” will be keeping you and probably me, up till all hours soon enough.”
“Methos… Please, I need your promise. I know this wasn’t anything you wanted to get involved with…” For a moment, he was very quiet, then, “We were attracted to each other the moment we met. I tried to ignore it. I thought I was misreading you. Was I?”
Now it was Methos who was silent. He turned away, “No. You weren’t. I’d read your Chronicles and Darius talked about you. He saw you as the great hope of the human race, but I thought he was delusional. Some people are, where you’re concerned, you know.”
“And you?”
“Oh, stipulated. I’d read your chronicles. Don… Don thought I was developing a crush on you. He knew what I was, and thought I’d lose my head to you. I guess I lost more than that…”
Duncan walked over to his friend. “Methos, I have a problem telling people I love them. It took be more than 300 years to tell Amanda… I don’t want to take that long to say it to you.’
Methos put his arms around Duncan. “You’ve said it by trusting me to help you with this situation. I don’t need to hear the words, Duncan.”
“Everybody needs to hear the words. Everyone needs to know that they’re loved Methos. I may never be able to say it again but I love you. Not just because you’re helping with Adam. I loved you from that moment in your apartment when you tossed me that awful canned beer.”
“Grad students can’t afford the good stuff…”
End Part One…
Soooo, in a foolish moment, I started one of the genre. Apologies in advance.
Who: Duncan and Methos, Joe and a couple of OFC's
Rating, Well, pre-slash for the most part.
Working title:
“Family Ties”
There was no sound in the darkened room. Then, there was a gasp and a deep breath, drawn in against the pain of returning life. Small flickers of blue light showed through the sheet over a long male figure.
For long moments, the rasping breath was the only sound. Gradually, as awareness returned, the man’s breathing slowed and became quieter. The man on the bed threw back the sheet and staggered upright. He wavered for a moment, unsteady on legs that felt as though he hadn’t used them for a while. Where was he? How long had he been here, days or weeks… ?
His head ached in spite of Immortal healing. A wave of dizziness washed over him and he went to his knees, retching.
He stilled at the sound of someone approaching the door. A key at the lock, then light spilling from the hallway blinded him and the nausea made it impossible to get any idea of the person or persons at the door.
“Awake again? Such resilience. I’m amazed that you still recover so quickly.”
MacLeod fought the nausea and tried to focus on the figure coming into the room.
“I won’t be needing you today, Mr. MacLeod. Get some rest. I’ll send up some food. You’re probably hungry. Or, perhaps not,” she laughed. The figure turned and left, slamming the door behind her.
The bright light had temporarily blinded him and the darkness blinded him again.
Getting to his feet took every bit of strength he had. Slowly, he backed up until he could feel the bed behind him. He felt his way along the side of the bed until he could touch the wall.
He felt his way along the wall. One circuit of the room gave his eyes time to adjust, and now he had some idea of its shape and size. There was a doorway on one side of the bed. Opening it, he found light switch. It was a small bathroom and he took advantage of the sink to wash his mouth out and rinse his face.
A narrow closet held clothes that he recognized as his. There were signs of a struggle in the slashed sleeve of the jacket and turtleneck and there was blood on the jeans. He brushed off as much of the soil as he could and dressed feeling somewhat better. Having clothes on, even disreputable clothes, was better and warmer than being naked.
He could hear someone coming toward the door again. He turned out the light in the bath and moved as quickly as he could, to stand beside the door. There was the sound of a key turning in the lock and the door opened. He waited until the man stepped inside the door, then slammed his head against the frame of the door, knocking him cold.
The tray crashed to the floor, but there was no indication that anyone had heard the noise. The smell of the food was nauseating and dizziness threatened to overwhelm him. He stayed very still, swallowing hard until the feeling passed. Slowly, carefully, he moved to the door, closing it quietly behind him.
There was no sign of life in the hallway. No windows to let him see whether it was day or night, either. There was a door at the end of the hall, but no exit sign. One bare light bulb hung there giving off only enough light for him to see the stairs beyond it. Moving slowly, trying to keep from throwing up, he started down the stairs.
Another light showed him a door at the foot of the stairs. It was dark beyond it and he stopped for a moment, trying to see the surroundings. It was cold and he shivered in spite of the jacket. He could see a streetlight and headed toward it hoping he’d be able to figure out where he was.
An hour later he was pretty sure he wasn’t in a city he knew. The street signs were in English, but none of the names were familiar. His wallet was still in the back pocket of his trousers, but his cell phone was gone and there didn’t seem to be any payphones nearby. His watch was missing too. The trees in the next block proved to be a small park and he settled his aching body on one of the benches.
He must have dozed; the sky was brighter and he could hear cars driving by. In daylight, his clothes looked even worse. He needed to do something about that. There was a connection for a landscaper’s hose and he managed to get some of the dirt and blood out of the turtleneck and jeans. Wet, they were cold and uncomfortable and he found himself hoping he could change soon.
His credit cards were intact. Robbery was apparently not the reason he’d been held captive. He was so tired. Every muscle ached and the persistent nausea was harder and harder to deal with.
Reluctantly, he started walking in hope that he could find a phone.
Walking became a moving meditation. City noises grew louder, they seemed to make the nausea worse. Finally he saw an ATM and withdrew some cash. There was a café on the corner and he went in, but the smells of cooking food were too much and he turned around without pausing.
The next strip mall had a phone and he punched the numbers for Joe’s cell phone.
“Yeah?”
“Joe?”
“Mac! Where the hell have you been.”
“I don’t know… The signs are in English… Joe, the number on this pay phone is 555-555-5555. Can you help?”
“Hang on, Mac. Let me run the number. Will that phone accept incoming calls?”
“I don’t have any idea… I… I need to sit down…” He hung up and then looked around. There was a bus stop in front of one of storefronts. The sign said “Thrift Store”. He needed dry clothes. Abruptly, he decided to go in. It took less than ten minutes to buy jeans and a t-shirt. He borrowed the men’s room to change and washed his face. The face in the mirror startled him. His eyes looked like he’d been in a fight. He had several weeks growth of beard. Nausea hit again and the dry heaves left him hanging on to the tiny sink. He rinsed out his mouth, then drank some of the rusty water.
The clerk paid no attention to him as he left, the clothes he’d worn shoved into a paper bag.
He made his way to the phone and called Joe again.
“Mac?”
“Yeah, Joe. Do you know where this is yet?”
“Yeah, you’re about an hour from Seacouver and Methos is on his way. Give me the address you’re at, or the cross streets.”
He shaded his eyes from the glare. “I’m at Union and 6th… Address on one of the shops… 634 Union.”
“OK. I’ll call him. Stay put. He drives like a maniac anyway, he said he’d get there as fast as he can.”
“Yeah, Joe. I’ll stay put.” He hung up. The bench was close. He slowly walked over and sat down. Methos was on his way. He’d help… Maybe they could figure out what the hell had happened.
He’d been dozing. Then a car pulled up. A familiar voice called, “All right, MacLeod. What have you gotten yourself into now?”
He tried to stand, but the sidewalk wouldn’t stay still. Then Methos put an arm around him and helped him into the car. “Let’s get you home, Mac. You look like hell.”
Methos was quiet and the hum of the motor and the tires against the road lulled him to sleep.
“Mac, we’re at the loft. Come on. Let’s get you into a shower and bed. You’ll be fine.”
He nodded his head. “Yeah… yeah, I just need some sleep.”
Methos moved him into the bathroom. He could hardly stand up and Methos finally growled something that sounded profane and got in the shower with him. The hot water felt good and soothed muscles that felt like they’d ached forever…
He was asleep on his feet when Methos rubbed him dry and rolled him under the down quilt. He never moved.
“Joe, I have him home. He’s not doing too well. How the hell could you lose him for six weeks?”
“He said he was going up to the island. I didn’t even start to worry until last week. He usually checks in with me, even when he’s up there.”
“So as far as you knew, he was on his way there, no last minute change of plans?”
“Tessa’s birthday was August 24th. He seemed to miss her more this year…“
Methos nodded to himself, “Hard to lose someone that special. I called him a couple of times but his voice mail picked it up. I should have known something was up.”
“Methos, we checked on Immortals in the area. Nothing showed up in our records. No one new in town, either.”
“OK, I’ll see what he remembers. Some food should help, too. It doesn’t look like he’s been eating too well.”
“OK, Methos. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
MacLeod moved restlessly on the bed, his dark head shifting on the pillow. Methos heard him and came over to the bed, “Mac? Try and sit up for me.”
Methos brought a tray over to the bedside table. Chicken soup and some tea seemed a better idea than anything heavier.
“Mac, come on, I want you to eat something.”
Methos could see Mac’s jaw working and he suddenly staggered out of the bed and headed for the bathroom.
Alarmed, Methos took the soup and tea back to the kitchen and then followed Mac into the bathroom. “Mac? What happened while you were gone? Do you remember anything at all?”
The man bent almost double over the commode, shook his head.
“Can you get back to the bed? Let me take a look at you. This isn’t normal. We don’t usually stay sick…”
Thirty minutes later, an incredulous Methos was pouring himself a scotch. “I’m not sure how it was done, or why it was done, either. I need to have a currently practicing doctor verify it, but there’s a strong possibility you’re pregnant.”
“I’m what?”
“You heard me, it looks like you’re pregnant.”
“You’re insane!”
“I’m not going to argue with you, MacLeod.“
MacLeod shook his head. Methos waited, watching as Duncan checked off the symptoms in his own mind.
“The symptoms match up, I guess, but how the hell can an Immortal, a male Immortal at that… get pregnant?”
“I don’t know. Mac, something must have happened while you were among the missing. I’m going to go get my old black bag and so I can give you some medication. You’re dehydrated.”
Mac nodded, “I wandered around… I’m not sure where I started from, Methos. Needles in haystacks…”
“Well you finished up in Clairmont, so that seems like a good place to start. So, tomorrow, I think we need to go back there and see if we can find some answers. I’ll be back.” With that, Methos finished the scotch and left.
Mac got up and managed to lock the door behind him. The room stayed fairly steady as he went back to the bed. He was so tired. Was Methos right? What had happened? They needed answers. He was just too tired to think about it right now.
Methos made it back in under an hour and he was relieved to see that Mac had locked the door. It wasn’t a problem for him, he’d never let it stop him before and it certainly didn’t now. Mac was lying on his stomach, a pillow pressed against his mouth.
Methos took a moment to gently stroke his friend’s hair. “You do seem to get into the damnedest situations, Mac. I picked up one of the home test kits, too. Let’s see what it says.”
“What do I need to do?”
“Let me give you a shot, then you can go pee in a cup, and we’ll see what that tells us.”
The bag was opened and a potent anti-nausea drug quickly injected. Duncan went in the bathroom with the test kit.
Methos reheated the soup and made fresh tea. He heard Mac mutter something, then he came out with the strip in his hand. “It says congratulations…”
Methos tried not to smile at the chagrined look on his friend’s face. “Well… At least we have a starting point. What’s the last thing you do remember, Mac?”
MacLeod stretched out on the bed and sipped at the tea. “I had an appraisal over in Clairmount. The woman… Her name was Larchmount, Mrs. Andrew Larchmount. She said they wanted an insurance appraisal on a piece they’d brought back from an European trip.”
“That’s not unusual for you, is it?”
“No… but there was something… “
“Do you think you could find your way back there?”
“Now that the world isn’t spinning out from under me, yeah, I had the address… Methos, I left the car there. My notes would have been back at her house, too.”
“The car’s here. That’s why Joe thought you were back from the island.”
Mac shook his head, “I never got back here. I was getting ready to leave for the island when she called. Said another client had referred her to me. I thought I’d put my things in the car and leave from there.”
Mac dressed quickly, got the spare key from his desk and headed for the door with Methos right behind him.
The car was dusty, obviously it had been sitting for some time. Parking tickets were tucked under the windshield wiper. Mac unlocked the car and looked inside. The notebook was lying on the passenger seat, and the keys were on the floor half under the driver’s seat.
The travel bag and his katana were safely locked in the trunk. Methos picked them up and Duncan grabbed his keys and the notebook. Mac was white as a sheet but he held off the nausea until they were safely back in the loft with the door locked and bolted.
“It doesn’t work long enough, Methos…”
“I’ve never used it on a man. Dosage is probably too low, or your Immortality is throwing it off.”
“Is there another drug, anything…”
“There are several, but I need to see if they’re safe to use. Can I use your laptop?”
Mac waved him over, then curled up on the bed with a pillow against his chest.
The medical sources were abundant and it took only minutes to check side effects and cautions. “Mac, I’m going to give you another shot. Then I want you to rest. OK?”
The drug seemed to help almost immediately. Duncan was up and pacing. “This is insane, I can’t believe any part of it.”
“Are you still friendly with that lady doctor?”
“Ann? Yes, but I can’t tell her about this.”
“Mac, we need information. I really need to be sure that you are pregnant and how far along you are. I don’t even know how a placenta would be attached.”
Methos stopped. Mac looked away from him. “Can’t you tell some other way? I know the midwife in our village could examine the women.”
“She was dealing with women. She’d probably known them since they were very young. It’s been years since I handled a pregnancy, Mac. Even knowing female anatomy is no help here. You do remember that the internal set up on males is different.”
Mac threw him a filthy look, “I don’t want to call her, Methos. She’s made a life for herself and I just can’t interfere…”
Methos glared at him. “I don’t know any other way to get the information we need. Do you?”
The silence went on for several minutes. Methos focused on keeping quiet. MacLeod was going to have to make the decision himself. There was a time element to consider. How much time? That could be determined more easily with the modern equipment. Not for the first time Methos wondered how Duncan MacLeod had managed to get so thoroughly under his skin.
“There is no other way? You don’t have someone else we could go to?”
“This isn’t something just anyone can handle. Ann knows about Immortals and has access to equipment we can use to determine what’s developing in there. If it has to be removed, it should be done soon.”
“Removed?”
One look at MacLeod’s face made it clear that he hadn’t even really accepted the possibility of the pregnancy, let alone the complications of that pregnancy.
Mac turned away from his friend, starring out the window of the loft but the unnatural stillness of his body hinted of an explosion to come.
Quietly Methos moved to stand beside his friend. “We need to call her, Mac. If I know what the situation is I can work with you whatever you decide to do, but we’re flying blind, here.”
Duncan’s face was white as a sheet. It was obvious that he was barely holding on. “You’re right. Methos, can you talk to her? I… I don’t think I can tell her about it. Not her.”
He punched in the numbers, then, as the phone began to ring he handed it to Methos and went out to the kitchen area. Nervously he began to make coffee only to find that the smell of it was making him nauseated. He hurled the glass coffee maker at the wall getting little satisfaction as it shattered.
He could hear Methos talking, but he was speaking softly and Mac couldn’t make out what he was saying.
Methos came in behind him, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll cope, Mac. Between us we’ve got one hell of a lot of experience.”
MacLeod still wouldn’t look at him. “What did she say?”
“We’re to go to the hospital around three this morning. She’ll do a work up. She’ll tell us all she can. I vetoed the DNA sampling. We can do it later if it has any importance.”
“I broke the coffee pot.”
“It’s OK, Mac. You have another one. I can make it if you like.”
MacLeod shook his head. “It smelled awful.”
Methos could see the pulse in Duncan’s throat. It was increasing and the pallor was back. His breathing rate was increasing and becoming shallow. “I need to have you come in and sit down.”
He got Duncan settled on the couch and gave him another dose of the anti-nausea medication, this time increasing the amount. Duncan seemed to relax a little, his breathing slower and deeper.
Methos decided to drive. MacLeod was silent all the way there. They arrived just after three in the morning. Ann met them at the door of the clinic and took them into one of the exam rooms.
“Hello, Duncan.” She smiled at him, trying to get him to relax. “You look good with a beard.” She turned on the machines, seeing the man she’d loved shiver as the screens came alive. “I have the ultrasound and other machines disconnected from the main computer. I’ll handle the blood tests myself. Sometimes I do that for young women who aren’t anxious for anyone to know about the pregnancy. No one will be inquisitive. Will you let me examine you?”
Duncan was blushing, totally humiliated by the situation. “Ann, this isn’t something I did. It was done to me by strangers and…” He shook his head. There really wasn’t anything to say.
Ann brought over a flannel sheet. “Duncan, I need to have you get undressed and sit up at the foot of the table. You can use this instead of a gown. I’ll be back in a minute.”
She left and Duncan started to take off his shirt. He glanced up at Methos, “Turn around… please. I just…”
“Sure, Mac. Do you want me to leave?”
“No… God, Methos, I just can’t believe this. I don’t know what to do.”
“Take it one step at a time, Mac, one step at a time. Let me help.”
Methos took Mac’s shirt and helped him get the slacks off. “You’ll need to take those off, too.” He said pointing at the briefs.”
Mac tried to glare, but the attempt was half hearted at best.
He was on the examining table, the sheet pulled up to his chin, when Ann came back.
“Try to relax, Duncan. Have you ever had a physical exam before?”
“In France during World War One and the UK, England during World War Two.”
For a minute, Ann looked startled. If he hadn’t looked so upset she might have said something rude, “Warm body exam?”
She could see his friend, Adam watching her and shaking his head “No”. She wondered if he was an Immortal, too. She was fairly sure Amanda was and Joe wasn’t. Richie had been…
Duncan was shivering even though the room was kept warm for the patients. Pulse rate was very high and he was having trouble breathing. Panic attack? “Duncan, try to relax. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”
Reluctantly, Duncan stretched out on the examining table. A six foot male didn’t fit well on the examining table. Ann waited until he was able to get settled before she started.
Two hours later, Ann followed them over to the Dojo. Adam gave Duncan another shot and fixed coffee for the three of them.
“The tests indicate you’re 30-35 days pregnant. The sonogram is showing a small sac anchored to the muscles of the abdominal wall, just behind the navel. There‘s a set of timed release depoprevara inserts attached to it. That would account for the hormonal changes allowing implantation of a fertilized egg. Tissues appear to be developing around it. The fetus appears normal and the small sample I took of the fluid in the sac matches your blood type.”
Adam put his coffee down. “Is there any indication of an incision?”
“No, but Duncan healed immediately from the blood draw so I don’t think there would be. The abdominal muscles should protect the fetus the same way the uterus does in a normal pregnancy. Duncan, You’ll need to have a c-section, or I could operate now. There isn’t much risk for you.”
MacLeod looked at her, “Is there any chance that I can have this child?”
Adam and Ann both looked as though he’d lost his mind. “There’s no way for me to answer that, Duncan. The differences between a non-Immortal man and an Immortal one don’t show. I checked, but I found nothing reliable on pregnancy in a male, other than seahorses.”
Adam went to him, “Duncan, this could be dangerous.”
“It’s normal. He or she is normal. It’s a gamble, but I have to try…it may be my only chance…”
Ann was remembering his joy when she told him she was going to have the baby and the pain in his eyes when she told him she couldn’t stay. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to get back to her daughter, away from the world of the Immortals. “I’ll leave it up to you, Duncan. Call me and let me know what you decide.” She put the stack of papers on the table and turned to go.
‘”Doctor, “said Adam. “I’ll talk to him.”
Ann nodded to him. “Duncan you have my pager and cell phone numbers. I’d rather this didn’t go through the hospital switchboard.”
He nodded.
Methos said, “Agreed. Thank you, Doctor.”
Everything was still after she left. The room seemed cold and damp. Duncan took the papers and started going through them. Methos came over to sit beside him. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Methos, you’ve raised children, normal children?”
“Yes. Several wives of mine had children. I raised them. I loved them and I buried them, too.”
“I know there are going to be problems. If I have to, I’ll live on Holy Ground.” Duncan stood, staring out the window for a minute, “Methos, I want this child.”
Methos sighed but nodded his head. “I guess I’ll just have to update Doctor Benjamin Adams’ credentials.”
The smile Duncan gave him made Methos grin back. “We’ll get started in the morning. First thing we need to do is check out that house.”
After Duncan went to bed, Methos sighed. He couldn’t blame MacLeod for wanting the child, but they needed to find out how it had been done, too, and… God, he hadn’t really thought about the complications. How could Mac fight if he was carrying 20 to 30 extra pounds in his belly and what in hell would a Quickening do to him? What would it do to a child? Would his immortality allow the healthy growth of a child? Would it be considered something that had to be eliminated by the healing processes?
They decided to take Methos’ SUV. The T-Bird wasn’t suited to clandestine sneaking.
“That’s the house”
“It’s for sale…” said Methos.
“I don’t remember seeing the sign, I think I would have noticed that.
We need to get inside, Methos. How long will this drug work?”
“Hard to say, but I brought another couple of doses with me. You should be OK for several hours.”
Methos didn’t say anything more as he pulled the car around the back of the house and got out to look around. Duncan followed, still feeling a bit shaky, but desperate to find some answers.
They looked in the windows, “Not much dust in the kitchen”, said Methos. “They can’t have been gone too long.”
Duncan nodded. The door was closed, but the lock yielded to persuasions he’d learned from long association with Amanda. Quietly the two men began looking through the rest of the house.
Opening off the front hallway was a large room with a fireplace and built-in bookshelves. There was a lot less in the way of dust and Methos could see marks on the floor where furniture, or something, had been moved.
“Does this look familiar?”
Duncan looked around, scanning the walls, windows and fireplace. “It was getting dark. I remember that the drapes were heavy, dark red, I think, almost completely closed. I asked her to turn on more lights so I could check on the construction of the piece. There was a fire in the fireplace…” He walked over and sniffed, “There’s been a fire here recently, but it’s been swept out, no sign of ashes.”
“We aren’t going to find anything in this room. Someone did a through job on the clean-up.”
“I can call the real estate company. If the people who did this were the people who listed it, there should be a trail…”
“Bright boy. But, just in case, I’ll do the calling. There’s no chance they’ll recognize me.”
Duncan nodded, then turned pale. “Methos…”
“Out to the car, Duncan.”
They made it outside with Duncan gritting his teeth. Methos administered the shot and the two men sat quietly in the car waiting for the medication to ease the nausea.
As Duncan’s color came back, Methos got his cell phone out and punched in the number on the real estate sign. A woman’s cheerful voice answered, “Century 21, this is Meg, how can I help you?”
“I just saw a sign over on Hillside Drive, nice looking colonial… Has it been on the market long? I was driving out here several weeks ago and didn’t remember the sign.”
“Let me look it up for you… I have one at 3189 Hillside… but that’s a rambler. Oh, here it is, 7854 Hillside Drive, the professor’s house.”
“The professor’s house?”
“Yes, the owner was teaching at the university, some sort of research. I remember something about an accident. We’ve shown the house several times, but his attorney isn’t rushing us… Would you like to meet me there?”
“How old is the house?”
“It was built in the early 50’s but it’s been kept up. I can meet you there if you like.”
Duncan listened as Methos agreed to let her show him the house. “I want to see her, if she’s involved, maybe we can convince her to explain what they did.”
“I don’t think you should be here, MacLeod. Let me see what she says and how she acts. If she is involved, I don’t want to tip her off.”
“Methos, I want to see for myself if she’s responsible for the mess I’m in. I need answers!”
“Mac, this is a case of somewhere to start. OK?”
Mac shook his head. “This whole thing is impossible. I know that. Immortals not even Immortal women, have children.”
“Let me talk to her, Mac. If you do recognize her, we can question her. If you don’t, we have to find another angle.”
MacLeod shook his head, but walked slowly back to the car. Methos was surprised to see him get in the back seat. Then he realized that the tinted windows would allow Mac to look out, but he couldn’t be seen.
A few minutes later, they could see a new Mustang drive up to the door.
The blond woman who got out was twentyish and quick to hand Methos the information sheet on the house. Methos looked it over. “So the house has been on the market for ten months?”
“Yes, we thought we had a sale, but the buyer decided at the last minute that it was too big for her. So, it’s available and all the appropriate title searches have been done. Will your wife be coming to see it? I can leave a key with you if …”
“No, that won’t be necessary. What can you tell me about the other buyer? Are you sure she won’t come back at the last moment and buy it out from under my nose?” he asked with a charming smile.
“Well, one of the neighbors said she saw a moving van but it was gone the next day. No sign of life. Then the buyer called to say she’d changed her mind. I haven’t heard anything more from her.”
“That’s reassuring. I need to contact my attorney and see what assets need to be transferred to handle the down payment. May I call you later in the week?”
The woman looked disappointed, “I could get the paperwork started…”
“Thank you, but that isn’t necessary. As I said, I was driving by and called on impulse. I always take time on major purchases.”
“Well,” she said as she walked back to her car, “Keep the number. If this one isn’t what you want, there are other places available.”
Methos smiled at her and waved as she drove off. When she was completely out of sight, he walked back to the car. Mac moved to the front seat, frowning.
“I don’t know her, Methos. Could I be wrong? Could it be the wrong house?”
Methos turned the car around and headed them back to Seacouver. “No, Mac I think it is the right house, but it doesn’t look like she had anything to do with the kidnapping.”
Methos made several phone calls the next morning. Then he and Duncan sat down to figure out the practicalities. “I’m registered for a twelve week OB refresher course at the American Hospital in Paris in two weeks. Dr. Adams’ house in Paris will be ready for us by Friday. Once I have the certification, we can decide if we want to stay there or go somewhere else.”
“You’d go through all this for me?”
“Duncan, being around you has always been dangerous, but never boring. If you really want to be a… parent, I’m willing to have a go at being your… obstetrician.”
Duncan hugged him, and went to shower and change.
Both men had connections and it only took a few days to set up new identities. Everything was ready, but Joe had to be told something. All he knew was that Mac had been kidnapped and was ill because of it.
“We’re going to be out of town for a while, Joe,” said MacLeod. “Probably London first then I’m not sure, but I’ll use one of the e-mail drops to get word to you. This can’t go in the Watcher records.”
Joe looked from one of them to the other. “And you’re not going to tell me why, are you? Somebody from your past or his,” he said pointing a finger at Methos.
“Hey, I’m just an innocent bystander, Joe. My God, you’ve got a suspicious mind.”
“Yeah, and you’re one of the reasons, Adam. A main reason.”
Duncan put a hand on Joe’s arm. “I would tell you if I could. You’re safer not knowing. We need to go underground for a few months, and I’ll explain as soon as I can. Are you willing to trust me that far?”
“Oh, I trust you. I’m just not sure I trust your skinny friend.”
“Joe, you wound me! I am cut to the quick, deeply hurt… I am not skinny!”
Joe started laughing. “All right, but damn it, you keep an eye on each other. If some body does kill Methos I’ll never get that damn bar tab paid off.”
Methos finished his beer, “I do have something I’d like checked out.” He handed Joe a note pad. “See what you can find on this property and anything else they might own. One for the road.”
Moments later, they were picked up by one of the airport shuttles. The swords had gone off that morning, shipped as antique weapons for sale. Methos felt very naked, but it wouldn’t help matters any to try and smuggle his favorite daggers aboard.
His little black bag and the fact that he was traveling as personal physician to a noted art collector, Dr. Matthew McPherson-MacLeod, got them aboard quietly and the plane left on time.
All through the long flight, Methos worried about the situation. Duncan was maintaining a quiet determination to go through with the pregnancy if there was any way to do it. Methos almost envied him the certainty. All he was certain of was that it was going to be a miserable and very dangerous time for both of them.
The anti-nausea meds were loosing their effectiveness and it was a near thing getting them to what Methos referred to as “The Mausoleum”. Once the house had been a day’s ride from Paris. Dr. Benjamin Adams and his “descendants” still owned it. The carriage house had been home to the same family of caretakers since Napoleon’s time. He hadn’t used it for a while, but his tenants had e-mailed him, assuring him that all the preparations he requested had been handled. The guest suite was ready for Duncan and there were groceries, including beer and an assortment of good local wines in the remodeled kitchen.
Methos heated some soup, but Duncan looked a little green.
“Would you understand if I just headed for bed tonight, Methos?”
In the morning, they looked around the outside property. Methos noted some minor repairs the house needed. He wasn’t overly happy with some of the changes in the area. “Apparently, they’ve lost some of the trees along the wall. We still have a lot of cover, but for safety’s sake, we probably should stay in side.”
“I have things I can do. There’s information on the net, too. Maybe we can find the people who did this.” It didn’t take that long for Duncan to create an Internet identity that went through several cutouts.
A week later, Methos began his classes. In spite of the urgent reason for them, he found that he was actually enjoying himself. He was rather intrigued with the new developments in pre and neo-natal care.
Most evenings they sat by the fire and looked through the materials Methos was using.
A few days after the start of Methos’ classes, Duncan came in to find “Dr. Adams” looking through medical supply house catalogues. “What’s up with the fancy machines? You’ve never needed them before.”
“You are, to put it gently, a “High Risk” patient, Mac. Officially, I’m researching recent developments in Obstetrics for the Genesis Foundation. Dr. Adams really is the Director of Research. I own the Foundation. It funnels money into family clinics in the Third World. After our need for them is over, the machines will go to Afghanistan.”
“After the baby’s born… I like that idea. Sometimes you surprise me.”
“I keep a low profile. In 5,000 years, you can do a lot of things.”
The nausea continued to be a problem. Methos tried everything from herbs to the latest medications, but it MacLeod wasn’t gaining weight the way Methos had expected.
Methos sat him down one evening and started working on the Shiatsu points Lung 9 and Heart 7. It helped some and the ginger chamomile tea soothed Duncan’s touchy stomach enough to get to sleep. The treatments seemed to help. At least Duncan was getting more sleep than he’d been getting.
One night Methos heard sounds in the guest room and found Duncan tangled in the sheets struggling to free himself. “Duncan, you’re safe. You’re in my house in France. It’s OK…”
The panic in his twisting and turning was getting worse. “Mac, wake up. You’re safe.” He gently placed a hand on Duncan’s shoulder and slowly, the tremors eased off.
Breakfast was quiet. Duncan seemed restless. “You know, Mac, you never really asked me about the house. Would you like the shilling tour?”
“Tour? I guess we have been busy with other things. Sure, Methos.”
“The main hallway was built about 1280 by ________. Most of the rest was added later, first by returning Templars, then, after they were disbanded 1309, an old friend received it from Phillip. The king wanted it searched, but they didn’t find anything.”
“A lot of the Templars found refuge in Scotland. Phillip owed them money, didn’t he?”
“Of course. The official reason was that they had heretical practices.”
“I think that came later. I know that originally, they were supposed to protect the travelers on the way to Jerusalem.”
“They became wealthy. There are all kinds of stories about that… Then they began lending money, to Phillip as well as other well placed people. They rivaled the Pope in that respect.”
“Hamza always said they were worse than the bandits. The pilgrims needed protection from them.”
“Well… Sometimes stories improve in the telling. You know that.” Methos led off toward the main hall.
“The east wing is a chapel, part of the Commanderie. I made sure it was re-consecrated about 1730 by Darius, just to be sure that it was Holy Ground. He always liked it here. I disappeared during the Revolution, but once the dust cleared, I came back and made repairs. Darius visited then, too. I told you I had a vineyard…”
“I remember.”
They wandered through the newer part of the house. The kitchen was state of the art at one end but Methos had kept the massive fireplace.
“Roasted any oxen lately?”
“Not lately, Mac, but you never know…”
Methos left for his seminar and Duncan went to his room for a nap. Just walking around the house had tired him badly.
After dinner, Methos put a hand on Duncan’s shoulder, “I think you may be remembering what happened to you in your dreams. You were muttering about not being able to get loose. Have you any idea what that’s about?”
“Nothing clear. We looked at the china cabinet and I think I told her that it had been put together from two fairly modern pieces… The type of nails, the kind of wood… It was beautiful, but not an antique.
“I remember saying I was sorry it wasn’t terribly valuable. I think she said something about my waiting to talk to her husband, but I really didn’t want to wait. I offered to e-mail her a detailed analysis to show him. She offered me a drink and left the room to get his business card… Then nothing until I woke up in that room.”
“Obviously, they drugged you. Duncan, if you remember anything, no matter how trivial it may seem…”
Mac nodded.
They spent the next weekend setting up the new diagnostic machines Methos had ordered for “Dr. Adams”. Methos scanned the manuals, making certain he hadn’t missed anything. Then he began testing. The more information they had the better for both doctor and patient.
Duncan stripped off his shirt and slacks. Methos wasn’t happy to see the continuing weight loss. His ribs were showing. Methos didn’t like his pallor either.
The small bulge of the pregnancy, at ten weeks was showing low in his belly. Methos moved the small scanner over Duncan’s abdomen. The new screen made the color images very clear. The fetal heartbeat was strong. Duncan’s hand moved to touch the swelling. “He’s real, Methos… or she…”
“Do you want me to find out which it is?”
Duncan looked down at his belly. “No. If I can follow through on this, we’ll know soon enough.”
Later that evening as Methos studied, Duncan came to stand beside him. “Methos, I need to start eating, I know that. Can you get hold of some oatmeal for me?”
“Sure. You aren’t going to ask for haggis, are you?”
The laugh was the first one Methos had heard from his friend in months. “Not till he or she is a little older.”
The house alarms went off just as Methos’ cell phone rang, “Switch off the alarms, Mac.” H picked up the phone, “Yes?”
“Are you goin’ to leave me out on the doorstep all night?”
Methos sighed and muttered as he went to let Joe Dawson in. They came in, bickering.
Mac looked up, “I thought you were staying in the states. What are you doing here?”
“Hi Mac. So what’s really going on? You guys aren’t in London and I get these “having a wonderful time, glad you’re not here”, kinda notes from your buddy. He’s good at avoiding direct questions…” he looked a little more closely at MacLeod. “Damn, Mac. I thought you guys couldn’t get sick?”
Methos poured a drink for Joe, “Get sick? Oh, we can get sick, but we usually don’t stay that way.”
“And?”
“You might want to sit down, Dawson. It seems that the kidnappers did more than just grab Mac.”
Duncan stood up, “It’s OK Methos, I can tell him myself. Joe, I’m… pregnant. We came here so “Doctor Adams”, can handle any complications. The nausea… morning sickness, though it seems to run all day…”
Joe sat, nearly spilling his drink in the process. “You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack,” said Methos. “I didn’t want you to worry since there wasn’t a lot you could do. Mac is safe here and I’m taking care of him.”
Joe took a deep breath and a healthy gulp of his drink. “The Watchers have always been told that pregnancy was impossible, even for a female Immortal. Male Immortals… How in hell did it happen, Mac?”
MacLeod shook his head. “I wish I could tell you. I called you as soon as I got away from them, but I can’t remember anything but a woman’s voice coming out of the shadows.”
“What did she sound like?”
Mac was still for a moment, “Her voice was rough, as though she’d been shouting at people…”
“Did you guys ever try to find the building?”
Methos shook his head. “We went back to the house but I didn’t want him to take any more chances, Joe. We didn’t want them to have another shot at him and they obviously did have his address.” said Methos.
“We needed to get away. I don’t know whether they deliberately picked me up because I’m Immortal, or I was just in the right place at the wrong time.”
Joe nodded, “Either one is possible. Methos, we checked out the house. The tax records show the owner as a Mrs. Langdon. She was a widow. The late husband was a specialist genetics. He was killed in an accident about eighteen months ago. Car tried to take a curve too fast and fetched up against a tree.”
Methos looked thoughtful for a minute, “Could the death have been faked?”
“It seemed to be straight forward. Of course, anything’s possible.”
Mac was looking very uncomfortable and excused himself.
Methos watched, then turned to Joe, “I was hoping we had the nausea under control.”
“Methos, this is pretty hard to believe. There’s no doubt that Mac’s pregnant? It isn’t a tumor? Something gone wrong in his system?”
“No doubt. I’ve checked every possibility I could think of, and the scans show a fetus, developing normally, in spite of Mac’s Immortality and the problems with the nausea.”
Joe took a long, slow sip of his drink. “He’s always wanted a child… Jeeze, Methos. No wonder you two hid out. I won’t note any of this in the Chronicles, not even my private ones.”
Methos nodded. “This could make a major difference in the Game, Joe. If the child is Immortal, there are a lot of Immortals who would use the technique to raise Immortals loyal to them, a private army… Bad news for all of us.”
“That could make Kell look like an amateur.”
Both men were quiet for a moment. “And he’s going through with this?”
Methos shrugged. “Yeah, I have tried to get him to look at the problems we’re likely to have, but he feels like he has a chance for a family. You know how important family has always been to him.”
Joe finished his drink, “If he isn’t eating, how can the baby be healthy?”
“The fetus takes what it needs from its parent. That’s always been true. I’ve been giving him things like Pedialyte to keep him hydrated and to keep the electrolytes balanced, but he’s still lost weight. I’m hoping that as he goes into the second trimester, the nausea will ease off.
“Seems to me I’ve heard of a lot of cases where the nausea lasts a lot longer.”
“Thank you so much, Joe. Don’t even mention it to Duncan.”
Joe shook his head, “You’ll need to do a Caesarean, won’t you?”
“Unless something changes radically in the next six months…”
Duncan took a hot shower then wrapped himself in a heavy terrycloth robe. He was tired and really didn’t feel like talking about the baby. He put protective hands over the small swelling in his abdomen. Methos understood, but he wasn’t sure he could make it clear to Joe.
He got under the warm down quilt and tried to nap. The tiredness was worse. He didn’t want to leave the house, either. What would he do if he met another Immortal who wouldn’t be talked out of a fight? His katas were off, just slightly. The exercises he’d done for centuries were awkward, his center had changed and kept changing. He was working constantly to hold on to it. There was no doubt that he wasn’t in the best shape for a fight and he simply could not ask Methos to put himself at risk.
His tired body eased into sleep and he dreamed. He could hear voices and feel heat on his belly. Then something cold brushed over him and there was a sharp pain. He could feel something pulling at his belly. He tried to get away, but broad straps across his chest and thighs kept him still
“Are you sure this will work?”
“He’s very healthy and other than healing very fast, he seems quite normal. Our son should develop into a healthy baby.”
“Son! I told you I wanted a daughter. You promised me a daughter!” The woman’s voice was shrill, madness lurked at the edge of it.
“Now, Elaine, we talked about it. This MacLeod is healthy and we can keep him here long enough for your daughter, too. My son must come first. That was the deal we made.”
The voices faded and the dreams changed. He was facing Kalas with a child in his arms. “That’s not going to help, Highlander. I don’t care about that child. I can’t have one so neither can you.” The blade was too fast and suddenly he was holding the headless, bloody corpse of his child.
Then he was being held. Another voice was talking to him. “Easy, Duncan… You had another dream. Can you remember any of it?”
He took the water Methos held out to him. Then told him about the dream. “Methos, we can’t stay here. I can’t fight. I can’t ask you to fight for me either…”
“We can stay, Mac. Holy Ground isn’t something an Immortal will violate.”
“You’re forgetting Kell.”
Methos glared at him. “You know, you have a talent for the exceptions.”
“And they aren’t Immortal. Holy Ground won’t mean anything to them.”
Methos shrugged, “This place won’t be easy to get into. The security system is state of the art. I haven’t survived all these years by taking foolish chances. Relax, Duncan. Once the baby is born, we can head to another property of mine in Tuscany. I’d like to see if the vineyard is still producing grapes. Warm, fairly dry and small towns with excellent food, too”
“They’re looking for me, Methos. I know it.”
“We covered our trail, Mac. Disappearing is an art form I’ve practiced for years.”
Mac walked over to the window. “I know you were careful, but what if they do track us down?”
“We’ll deal with them. I have no doubt that they’re over the line, Mac, and I won’t hesitate to protect you and the child.”
Mac turned to his friend. “My son, Methos… A son, I can’t let anything happen to him.”
For the first time, Methos found himself hoping that they could carry this off and that at least one Immortal could have a child of his own to love.
Joe stayed for a week then headed back, “You guys ain’t there to keep me solvent so I have to get back to work. Look, Methos, you’d better tell me what’s really going on. No more fancy footwork, OK?”
Duncan could keep small amounts of food down now, but was starting to show hormonal fluctuations. He’d always tried to keep a leash on his emotions. A trained killer can’t afford to blow up at everything and everyone around him. Now it was getting harder and harder to handle the mood swings.
“Would you relax a little more if we sparred?”
“I’m not sure I can just spar, Methos. What happens if I lose it?”
“I hit you in the head and wait for you to come to your senses.”
Duncan tried not to laugh, but it wasn’t easy. “Damn, I still can’t eat more than a few bites at a time, now this…”
“Your mother did it. So do many women. You just happen to be male. Think of it, Mac. You can really understand the female point of view.”
“Methos… I don’t know that I really wanted to understand it that well.”
“Duncan, you don’t have to go through with it.”
For a moment Duncan turned away. “I don’t know if I can go through with it, Methos. The constant pain, as though something is tearing through my vitals, the nausea is still with me… Half the time I want to kill the people who did this to me… But, I want this child. I want to teach him how to live. I want him to know his family. If he’s pre-immortal, I want to give him what I’ve learned. The Game doesn’t always mean you have no friends.”
Methos sighed, “I said I’d back you up and I meant it.”
Duncan turned to his friend, “Thank you. I wouldn’t have made it through the last few months...”
“Mac, you’re a survivor. I’m just here… Well, I’m just here.”
Two weeks later, Methos was wakened out of a sound sleep by a shout from Duncan.
When he got there, Duncan was standing beside the bed cradling his belly. “He moved, Methos! He moved.”
“Let’s go downstairs. I want to take a look.”
Duncan sat on the table, “Turn the screen so I can see it, Methos.”
“Just a minute, Mac. I need to be sure it’s set properly.”
Methos looked closely at the screen while “calibrating” the machine, but everything looked normal and he turned it so Mac could watch.
Methos applied the gel and began running the transducer over MacLeod’s abdomen, he could see that the sac was thinning slightly along the bottom and something he hadn’t noticed before. He quietly made note of it, but the sac was still thick enough to handle the growing weight of the baby. One thing worried him, though. It looked like the upper part of the placenta was attaching itself to the major abdominal artery. If so, Duncan was going to have to be careful as the baby grew. Something had to be devised to hold the weight so that a sudden fall or blow wouldn’t tear something important loose. Duncan could recover but the baby would either suffocate or bleed to death before Methos could get him safely out.
Mac had one hand on the screen picking out the barely discernable legs and body. Methos enlarged the view so they both could make out the tiny heart beating.
“He’s an active little guy, isn’t he? The books say babies have active and sleep times even before they’re born. Are you taping it?”
Methos nodded. “Of course. It goes in the vault with everything else. Shall we see if you’re up to some dinner, OK?”
MacLeod did manage to eat a little, but seemed to tire quickly. “Come-on, young man. I’ll even tuck you in.”
Duncan pulled off his shirt and slacks and slid under the quilts. The room seemed cold and MacLeod shivered. Methos sighed, took off his jeans and lay down beside the younger man. “I’ll stay with you tonight, Mac. Just go to sleep. I’ll be here.”
Several times during the night MacLeod began twisting, crying in his sleep. Each time, Methos gathered him in and held him close. Finally, both of them slept.
Late the next day, while Duncan was exercising, Methos finished cleaning up and went to his desk. First things first. He was fairly certain that he was right about what he’d seen in the scan. They looked like amniotic sheets. The sac must have some scaring. This could be a problem if it continued to show up in the scans. Frequently they were broken or torn by the normal movements of the baby, but occasionally they did wind around the limbs. That, and his concerns about the placenta gave him cold chills. Nothing to do but wait and keep a very close eye on his patient.
There were two messages from Joe waiting in his e-mail, both marked priority. “Call me, secure line”
“Now what?’ he muttered. “Things were so nice and quiet…”
It took a few moments to make sure of security, then Joe’s familiar voice, “Methos, the cops just found the body of a man and they have at tentative ID on him, Eric Langdon, and they’re looking for his wife, since she identified the other body… I’d be a little cautious if I were you. I still can’t find anything on Elaine’s location.”
“I don’t see how she could follow us.”
“Listen, “Dr. Adams”, I’m telling you she’s loose. My informant in the SPD says privately, she’s crazy. I don’t know what they were doing for the last couple of years, but they did own a building in Clairmount. I checked, but it was torn down about three months ago to make room for a strip mall.”
“No records on the building? Nothing else?”
“Not much. One thing. I managed to get hold of medical records on her from a doctor she was seeing seven years ago.”
“Fertility specialist?”
“Yep, and he wasn’t the first. Then, about five years ago, she met Eric Langdon, researcher in genetics.”
“So, she married him and set up a lab with one goal in mind.”
“According to his former admin, he never wanted anyone to go into the lab. Very delicate experiments…”
“And no one twigged?”
“I think that’s why they staged the accident. A couple of his colleagues had started asking questions about his research. Probably couldn’t have hidden it much longer…”
“The accident didn’t get flagged?”
“She said he’d been drinking, something he didn’t do as a rule. She blamed his friends for encouraging him. They were celebrating a birthday, I think.”
“Grieving widow shrieking at the investigators…perfect.”
“There wasn’t any reason to suspect anything. She’d been shopping. Money wasn’t a factor, all he had was his salary from the college so there wasn’t much of an estate. His wife owned everything.”
“Joe, is it possible she’s an Immortal?”
“Hell, anything is possible, you know damn well we don’t have all of you guys in our files.”
“I’ll do some checking, not that I know all of the Immortals out there…”
“Jeeze, Adam, if she is, it makes her even more dangerous. Even as a mortal, the money and obsession is…”
“If she is an Immortal it would add to her desperation. She wants a child. Somehow they created the possibility and I’d be willing to bet she feels she can repeat the experiment. Did the paper publish a picture?”
“Yeah, I just scanned it. It’ll be in the next e-mail.”
“OK. Send everything you can. Mac is not to know. He doesn’t need this.”
“I’ll stay on it from here, but you be careful.”
Methos swore as he hung up.
Duncan’s voice came from the door, “What’s wrong?”
“How much did you hear?”
“Just Joe going on about you needing to be careful. Who has money of her own?”
“Damn, Mac… You don’t have to worry about this. Joe and I can handle it.”
“We’ve been honest with each other on this right from the beginning. Don’t start playing games now, Methos.”
Methos opened the e-mail from Joe and turned the monitor so Duncan could see it. “Does this woman look familiar to you?”
Duncan was trembling and looked as though he’d been gut punched. “That’s her. She’s the one at the house… Wanted for questioning?”
“Joe says they found her husband, the one who was supposed to be dead… He is now, anyway.”
“They think she killed him?”
“All the paper says is wanted for questioning.”
Mac sat down abruptly, “We need to know where she is. We need to know if the police pick her up.”
“Yes, “ said Methos, “and Joe will let us know what’s going on.”
The rest of the evening was strained. Duncan seemed unable to sit still, pacing, then trying to sit and read, then over to the windows to watch the rain. Methos finished going through his mail and stood up, “Would you like some tea?”
“Would a drink bother the baby?”
“I don’t think one would hurt. We’re passed the most critical stage of development.
Duncan poured himself a small brandy. The two if them sat quietly, watching the fire. Duncan finished the brandy and turned to his friend, “Methos, you said this was dangerous. You may well be right. If anything happens, will you make me a promise?”
“Look, Mac… Odds are, the cops will find her within a couple of days. All we really need to worry about is a name and whether we want him to grow up in Italy or…”
A warm hand covered his. “His name is Adam, Adam Jonathan MacLeod, Jonathon for my father. And Italy will be fine. You can teach him a dozen languages and take him to Bora Bora with you.”
“Mac… This is some notion you’ve cooked up out of mixed-up hormones and panic over this woman. You need some sleep. “Adam” will be keeping you and probably me, up till all hours soon enough.”
“Methos… Please, I need your promise. I know this wasn’t anything you wanted to get involved with…” For a moment, he was very quiet, then, “We were attracted to each other the moment we met. I tried to ignore it. I thought I was misreading you. Was I?”
Now it was Methos who was silent. He turned away, “No. You weren’t. I’d read your Chronicles and Darius talked about you. He saw you as the great hope of the human race, but I thought he was delusional. Some people are, where you’re concerned, you know.”
“And you?”
“Oh, stipulated. I’d read your chronicles. Don… Don thought I was developing a crush on you. He knew what I was, and thought I’d lose my head to you. I guess I lost more than that…”
Duncan walked over to his friend. “Methos, I have a problem telling people I love them. It took be more than 300 years to tell Amanda… I don’t want to take that long to say it to you.’
Methos put his arms around Duncan. “You’ve said it by trusting me to help you with this situation. I don’t need to hear the words, Duncan.”
“Everybody needs to hear the words. Everyone needs to know that they’re loved Methos. I may never be able to say it again but I love you. Not just because you’re helping with Adam. I loved you from that moment in your apartment when you tossed me that awful canned beer.”
“Grad students can’t afford the good stuff…”
End Part One…