Highlander / Magnum P.I. Crossover
Title: Waiting for Carbasa
Disclaimer: This is fanfic. No commercial remuneration, no claim of ownership. No harm, no foul.
Rating: PG
Summary: Highlander/Magnum, P.I. crossover. 2400 words. Fun with minor canon and original characters, 'cause I like rehabilitating minor characters.
Spoilers: Final episode of Magnum, the final resolution of MacLeod and St. Cloud's enmity--but, really, is anyone surprised by how that turns out?
"Robin's Nest" -- Honolulu, Hawaii - 1997
Molly sat on the low retaining wall that separated the estate's manicured lawn from the beach, stared at the moonlit surf, and tried not to think about her nightmare. She thought instead about how cold the beach sand could be at night when it had been so hot during the day. She thought about the glass of very expensive scotch she held in one hand, and about how her vow not to drink so much had lasted less than a week. And then about the fact that she hadn't actually had any of the scotch yet. She wasn't a lush if she didn't actually drink it, was she?
She wanted it, though. Or she thought she did. The last month of her life would make anyone want to drink. She felt a hysterical laugh bubble up at that. "Last month of my life, indeed," she thought. The laughter turned into sobbing for a few moments, before she clamped down on it. She would not cry anymore, goddammit.
It was no surprise to her when a feeling of mingled dread and excitement gripped her, shivering along her spine and tightening her scalp. It had become familiar to her over the last month, first in Benny Carbasa's presence, and now in Cassandra Sugarbaker's care, but it was still deeply alien--a reminder of just how completely her life had changed.
Screw it, she thought. It's not like I can fuck up my liver. Molly upended her glass and swallowed the mouthful of whiskey before turning to look back over the lawn at the house--mansion, really.
Cassandra crossed the lawn, a tall woman with a mass of dark hair, a round face, and built all of curves, voluptuous the way movie stars of the fifties had been. She was wearing a dark green silk robe and carrying a bottle and a glass of her own. As Molly watched, she approached the wall, stepped carefully over it and took a seat at Molly's side. No sword. She wasn't going to kill Molly now, at least.
That's not fair, Molly thought a moment later. Cassandra had been nothing but kind to her since Molly had shown up in Benny's wake days ago.
Molly waited and watched. This was the first time Cassandra had followed her on one of her midnight excursions. Aside from calmly showing her how to avoid setting off the alarms the morning after the first midnight outing, Cassandra had been content to allow her to wander unmolested. Molly appreciated being given that space, especially in comparison to Benny's nonstop monologues whenever he was around.
Now she wondered at the change. Cassandra glanced at her, a comradely smile on her lips, but said nothing immediately. She poured a little whiskey into her own glass then held out the bottle to Molly, who accepted a little more for herself.
"Benny wants me to take you as a student," Cassandra told her in that strong Georgia accent of hers, which sounded so out of place here in Hawaii.
Terror froze the breath in Molly's throat. Benny had been the one constant in her life since she'd risen from the dead to find him kneeling beside her. Now he was abandoning her? Why? Had she done something wrong? Was he angry--?
"Breathe!" Cassandra commanded her, placing her hand on Molly's forearm. "Breathe, Molly," she insisted.
Molly clamped down on her anxiety, forcing herself to take several deep breaths under Cassandra's watchful eye. She had surprised herself with the strength of her reaction. I'm handling this even worse than I thought.
"Better?" Cassandra asked her. Molly nodded, not ready to speak yet.
"Good. Molly, Benny has asked me to take you as a student. I haven't agreed yet. And it isn't only my decision. We both will have to agree to this, if it's to happen."
"Why?" Molly asked. She was pleased to note that her voice was steady.
Cassandra smiled at her. "I think Benny is hoping for a two-fer. You need a teacher, and he thinks I need a new student to pull me out of my shell." She paused and looked thoughtful for a moment. "And perhaps he's right--on both counts."
"Why can't Benny teach me?" Molly asked. She realized she sounded like a petulant child but she couldn't help herself.
Cassandra simply looked at Molly with an amused expression. "You've been traveling with Benny for about a month, Molly. Do you really think he's the right teacher for you?"
Molly knew the answer. Cassandra was right. Benny was kind, but ultimately...helpless. He'd taken care of her as best he could, but she'd seen enough to know that it was all he could do to keep his own head. She'd never seen him practice with a weapon though he talked constantly about the deadly nature of the Game, and about the many fearsome immortals he'd met.
She wasn't sure he even carried a weapon. He talked his way out of trouble when he could, and ran when he had to. They'd fled more than one city with no warning and not so much as a glance back. And even if he were a fighter, surely Cassandra would know far more that would be of use to Molly in surviving the Game as a woman.
She looked at Cassandra and despite her fears she felt an answering grin. "Well--"
"Benny is a good friend," Cassandra said, "but sometimes I'm amazed that he's survived as long as he has. But part of what has kept him alive so long is knowing his limitations even if he will never admit them to anyone, and he knows he's not the right teacher for you. So what do you say?"
Molly knew she was going to agree, but she couldn't admit it just yet. "You mentioned a two-fer. What did you mean?"
Cassandra replied by raising her glass. "To friends," she said.
Molly didn't know how this answered her question, but she raised her glass as well.
"To friends," Cassandra repeated, "new and old, alive...and dead."
Cassandra brushed her glass against Molly's with a faint chime of crystal, then drank. Molly hesitated for a moment, then did likewise. She watched Cassandra pour a little more whiskey into her own glass and expected another toast. She was surprised when Cassandra held it out before her, looked into the distance, and spoke quietly in something that wasn't English. Molly caught a name, the only words in English. Xavier St. Cloud. Cassandra upended the glass, pouring the whiskey into the sand at her feet.
"Who is Xavier?" Molly wondered.
"My mentor," Cassandra said, still looking into the distance-or maybe it was the past she was seeing. Molly started, realizing she'd spoken aloud, and a bit embarrassed by the fact. It was an awfully personal question. She considered remaining silent, but her curiosity was engaged, and in for a penny....
"Another immortal?"
Cassandra nodded. "Yes. This is--was--his estate, though he owned it under another name: Robin Masters."
“Oh,” Molly said. She knew that name. She'd learned it from Mr. Higgins, the caretaker here.
He was British, a mortal, and filled with a quiet dignity for which Molly was grateful. He was the only mortal living here now, though he spoke often of someone named Magnum who had lived here for some years. Molly had thought at first that he'd died, but Mr. Higgins had corrected her misapprehension, telling her that Magnum had returned to the Navy.
She liked Mr. Higgins. He'd talk your ear off, and he was full of fascinating stories, but he had not once pried into Molly's background. It was comforting to sit in the mansion's library and leaf through a book while Mr. Higgins regaled her with an endless string of anecdotes from a long and implausibly-busy lifetime. Occasionally the stories touched on his decades-long friendship with Robin Masters, or Xavier St. Cloud, and though he remained stoic it was clear to Molly that he was still grieving.
"Today is the third anniversary of Xavier's death. Benny chose his time well."
"How--" Molly began, forgetting for a moment the new reality of her life. She cut off the question, feeling her cheeks flaming. Of course. Only one thing kills immortals: other immortals.
"A man named Duncan MacLeod," Cassandra said.
"Was it...the Game?" Molly stumbled over the phrase. It still didn't seem real.
Cassandra shook her head. "No. It was--personal." She was silent for a moment, then seemed to shake off the dark mood. She turned a wan smile on Molly. "Xavier found me when I was not much older than you are, and taught me--everything. How to survive, how to fight...how to hunt. How to live. But he was not a nice man."
Molly wanted to comment, but had no idea what to say. Just as well, she supposed, for Cassandra continued. "MacLeod considered him a villain, and with good cause. Xavier's friends, what few of us there were, could trust him with our lives--but everyone else was fair game, mortal and immortal alike."
Cassandra fell silent then. Molly waited, knowing there was something more to be said but wondering what it could be.
"Though I hated what he became in the end, his loss left a huge hole in my life. He's been a part of my life for almost four hundred years," Cassandra said, and Molly felt a chill as she was vividly reminded again of what being immortal really meant. It wasn't just healing fast and immunity to diseases. This thirty year-old woman had been thirty years old for centuries. Molly might, if she were lucky, live that long or longer.
"Benny thinks I've mourned long enough, that I can't look back for too long," Cassandra continued. "I think he's hoping that taking a new student will remind me that there's too much to see still waiting in front of me." She laughed abruptly.
"And he's right, damn him. It's been too long since I've laughed. He'll be crowing about this for decades--if we do this. Are you interested?"
Molly stared at Cassandra, trying to formulate the question she wanted--needed--to ask, wrestling with the phrasing, and with her fear of sounding stupid or scared. Cassandra waited silently, almost visibly settling down to wait as long as necessary.
"Is it--is it worth it?"
"Oh honey," Cassandra exclaimed, "that's a question you have to answer for yourself, every day. But for me? Oh yes!
"In some ways, it's no different for us than for anyone else. In other ways--there's so much to see and do in this world, and you have the opportunity to sample all of it eventually.
“It isn't all a battle for survival, running and fighting and scrambling to stay ahead of some hunter. There are things you do need to learn, including how to defend yourself. I won't pretend that isn't necessary, but I can teach you what you need to know. By the time we're done, you'll be ready for that and it won't seem so terrifying.”
Molly met Cassandra's suddenly fierce gaze and felt the impact of her presence like a blow. It was frightening-and revealing. This was not a thirty year-old woman. This was an immortal warrior, casting her camouflage aside, revealing the will that had kept her alive for centuries against larger and stronger opponents.
"It will take years, though. Benny is right--it's time for me to move on. My relationship with Xavier has ended. If we're to start something, you and I, I need to know that you're prepared to stick it out until we're finished. Are you?"
Molly swallowed hard, nodded. She wanted this. She needed this. She was scared, still--but she needed what Cassandra was offering. Benny had saved her life, and possibly her sanity, but it was time for her to move on and she was relieved to realize that Benny had known that even if she hadn't.
"Yeah," she admitted. "Yeah, I am."
"Good," Cassandra said, and just that suddenly the warrior vanished as quickly as she'd appeared. She picked up the bottle and poured them both another drink. "What shall we drink to?"
Molly raised her glass and opened her mouth to make a toast when she felt the now-familiar sensation crawling up her spine to her scalp again. She turned toward the mansion again, noting that Cassandra mirrored her posture.
Benny Carbasa, clad in slippers and a robe belted over pajamas shuffled across the lawn toward them. Standing behind them, hands in the pockets of his robe, he looked from Molly to Cassandra and back again, making no effort to conceal his smirk.
"I knew it," he crowed at last. "I knew you two would be good for one another!"
As Benny continued his self-congratulatory monologue, Molly met Cassandra's gaze and raised her glass. "To endings," she whispered.
"And beginnings," Cassandra replied.
Notes:
1. I'm fascinated by Xavier St. Cloud. He was a despicable villain, and yet...he trained at least one student--a villain in his own right--who nonetheless felt loyalty enough to seek revenge for his death when not doing so would have cost him nothing. Xavier once refused to fight a young Duncan MacLeod, saying that he didn't sleep with virgins or kill children; how does this square with the man who would centuries later make use of mortal gunmen to take the heads of other immortals? I think there had to be more to him than just the villain we saw on Highlander.
2. "Robin's Nest" is the name of the estate in Hawaii owned by Robin Masters in the series Magnum, P.I. It is a little known fact (known, in fact, only to me and a few people who've read some of my other stories) that "Robin Masters" was, in fact, a nom de plume of Xavier St. Cloud. Which makes this a crossover story, though purists might object that nobody from Magnum, P.I. Actually appears in the story.
3. Why did St. Cloud write romance novels under a pseudonym? Because it amused him to do so, I suppose. And because nobody is just one thing.
Disclaimer: This is fanfic. No commercial remuneration, no claim of ownership. No harm, no foul.
Rating: PG
Summary: Highlander/Magnum, P.I. crossover. 2400 words. Fun with minor canon and original characters, 'cause I like rehabilitating minor characters.
Spoilers: Final episode of Magnum, the final resolution of MacLeod and St. Cloud's enmity--but, really, is anyone surprised by how that turns out?
"Robin's Nest" -- Honolulu, Hawaii - 1997
Molly sat on the low retaining wall that separated the estate's manicured lawn from the beach, stared at the moonlit surf, and tried not to think about her nightmare. She thought instead about how cold the beach sand could be at night when it had been so hot during the day. She thought about the glass of very expensive scotch she held in one hand, and about how her vow not to drink so much had lasted less than a week. And then about the fact that she hadn't actually had any of the scotch yet. She wasn't a lush if she didn't actually drink it, was she?
She wanted it, though. Or she thought she did. The last month of her life would make anyone want to drink. She felt a hysterical laugh bubble up at that. "Last month of my life, indeed," she thought. The laughter turned into sobbing for a few moments, before she clamped down on it. She would not cry anymore, goddammit.
It was no surprise to her when a feeling of mingled dread and excitement gripped her, shivering along her spine and tightening her scalp. It had become familiar to her over the last month, first in Benny Carbasa's presence, and now in Cassandra Sugarbaker's care, but it was still deeply alien--a reminder of just how completely her life had changed.
Screw it, she thought. It's not like I can fuck up my liver. Molly upended her glass and swallowed the mouthful of whiskey before turning to look back over the lawn at the house--mansion, really.
Cassandra crossed the lawn, a tall woman with a mass of dark hair, a round face, and built all of curves, voluptuous the way movie stars of the fifties had been. She was wearing a dark green silk robe and carrying a bottle and a glass of her own. As Molly watched, she approached the wall, stepped carefully over it and took a seat at Molly's side. No sword. She wasn't going to kill Molly now, at least.
That's not fair, Molly thought a moment later. Cassandra had been nothing but kind to her since Molly had shown up in Benny's wake days ago.
Molly waited and watched. This was the first time Cassandra had followed her on one of her midnight excursions. Aside from calmly showing her how to avoid setting off the alarms the morning after the first midnight outing, Cassandra had been content to allow her to wander unmolested. Molly appreciated being given that space, especially in comparison to Benny's nonstop monologues whenever he was around.
Now she wondered at the change. Cassandra glanced at her, a comradely smile on her lips, but said nothing immediately. She poured a little whiskey into her own glass then held out the bottle to Molly, who accepted a little more for herself.
"Benny wants me to take you as a student," Cassandra told her in that strong Georgia accent of hers, which sounded so out of place here in Hawaii.
Terror froze the breath in Molly's throat. Benny had been the one constant in her life since she'd risen from the dead to find him kneeling beside her. Now he was abandoning her? Why? Had she done something wrong? Was he angry--?
"Breathe!" Cassandra commanded her, placing her hand on Molly's forearm. "Breathe, Molly," she insisted.
Molly clamped down on her anxiety, forcing herself to take several deep breaths under Cassandra's watchful eye. She had surprised herself with the strength of her reaction. I'm handling this even worse than I thought.
"Better?" Cassandra asked her. Molly nodded, not ready to speak yet.
"Good. Molly, Benny has asked me to take you as a student. I haven't agreed yet. And it isn't only my decision. We both will have to agree to this, if it's to happen."
"Why?" Molly asked. She was pleased to note that her voice was steady.
Cassandra smiled at her. "I think Benny is hoping for a two-fer. You need a teacher, and he thinks I need a new student to pull me out of my shell." She paused and looked thoughtful for a moment. "And perhaps he's right--on both counts."
"Why can't Benny teach me?" Molly asked. She realized she sounded like a petulant child but she couldn't help herself.
Cassandra simply looked at Molly with an amused expression. "You've been traveling with Benny for about a month, Molly. Do you really think he's the right teacher for you?"
Molly knew the answer. Cassandra was right. Benny was kind, but ultimately...helpless. He'd taken care of her as best he could, but she'd seen enough to know that it was all he could do to keep his own head. She'd never seen him practice with a weapon though he talked constantly about the deadly nature of the Game, and about the many fearsome immortals he'd met.
She wasn't sure he even carried a weapon. He talked his way out of trouble when he could, and ran when he had to. They'd fled more than one city with no warning and not so much as a glance back. And even if he were a fighter, surely Cassandra would know far more that would be of use to Molly in surviving the Game as a woman.
She looked at Cassandra and despite her fears she felt an answering grin. "Well--"
"Benny is a good friend," Cassandra said, "but sometimes I'm amazed that he's survived as long as he has. But part of what has kept him alive so long is knowing his limitations even if he will never admit them to anyone, and he knows he's not the right teacher for you. So what do you say?"
Molly knew she was going to agree, but she couldn't admit it just yet. "You mentioned a two-fer. What did you mean?"
Cassandra replied by raising her glass. "To friends," she said.
Molly didn't know how this answered her question, but she raised her glass as well.
"To friends," Cassandra repeated, "new and old, alive...and dead."
Cassandra brushed her glass against Molly's with a faint chime of crystal, then drank. Molly hesitated for a moment, then did likewise. She watched Cassandra pour a little more whiskey into her own glass and expected another toast. She was surprised when Cassandra held it out before her, looked into the distance, and spoke quietly in something that wasn't English. Molly caught a name, the only words in English. Xavier St. Cloud. Cassandra upended the glass, pouring the whiskey into the sand at her feet.
"Who is Xavier?" Molly wondered.
"My mentor," Cassandra said, still looking into the distance-or maybe it was the past she was seeing. Molly started, realizing she'd spoken aloud, and a bit embarrassed by the fact. It was an awfully personal question. She considered remaining silent, but her curiosity was engaged, and in for a penny....
"Another immortal?"
Cassandra nodded. "Yes. This is--was--his estate, though he owned it under another name: Robin Masters."
“Oh,” Molly said. She knew that name. She'd learned it from Mr. Higgins, the caretaker here.
He was British, a mortal, and filled with a quiet dignity for which Molly was grateful. He was the only mortal living here now, though he spoke often of someone named Magnum who had lived here for some years. Molly had thought at first that he'd died, but Mr. Higgins had corrected her misapprehension, telling her that Magnum had returned to the Navy.
She liked Mr. Higgins. He'd talk your ear off, and he was full of fascinating stories, but he had not once pried into Molly's background. It was comforting to sit in the mansion's library and leaf through a book while Mr. Higgins regaled her with an endless string of anecdotes from a long and implausibly-busy lifetime. Occasionally the stories touched on his decades-long friendship with Robin Masters, or Xavier St. Cloud, and though he remained stoic it was clear to Molly that he was still grieving.
"Today is the third anniversary of Xavier's death. Benny chose his time well."
"How--" Molly began, forgetting for a moment the new reality of her life. She cut off the question, feeling her cheeks flaming. Of course. Only one thing kills immortals: other immortals.
"A man named Duncan MacLeod," Cassandra said.
"Was it...the Game?" Molly stumbled over the phrase. It still didn't seem real.
Cassandra shook her head. "No. It was--personal." She was silent for a moment, then seemed to shake off the dark mood. She turned a wan smile on Molly. "Xavier found me when I was not much older than you are, and taught me--everything. How to survive, how to fight...how to hunt. How to live. But he was not a nice man."
Molly wanted to comment, but had no idea what to say. Just as well, she supposed, for Cassandra continued. "MacLeod considered him a villain, and with good cause. Xavier's friends, what few of us there were, could trust him with our lives--but everyone else was fair game, mortal and immortal alike."
Cassandra fell silent then. Molly waited, knowing there was something more to be said but wondering what it could be.
"Though I hated what he became in the end, his loss left a huge hole in my life. He's been a part of my life for almost four hundred years," Cassandra said, and Molly felt a chill as she was vividly reminded again of what being immortal really meant. It wasn't just healing fast and immunity to diseases. This thirty year-old woman had been thirty years old for centuries. Molly might, if she were lucky, live that long or longer.
"Benny thinks I've mourned long enough, that I can't look back for too long," Cassandra continued. "I think he's hoping that taking a new student will remind me that there's too much to see still waiting in front of me." She laughed abruptly.
"And he's right, damn him. It's been too long since I've laughed. He'll be crowing about this for decades--if we do this. Are you interested?"
Molly stared at Cassandra, trying to formulate the question she wanted--needed--to ask, wrestling with the phrasing, and with her fear of sounding stupid or scared. Cassandra waited silently, almost visibly settling down to wait as long as necessary.
"Is it--is it worth it?"
"Oh honey," Cassandra exclaimed, "that's a question you have to answer for yourself, every day. But for me? Oh yes!
"In some ways, it's no different for us than for anyone else. In other ways--there's so much to see and do in this world, and you have the opportunity to sample all of it eventually.
“It isn't all a battle for survival, running and fighting and scrambling to stay ahead of some hunter. There are things you do need to learn, including how to defend yourself. I won't pretend that isn't necessary, but I can teach you what you need to know. By the time we're done, you'll be ready for that and it won't seem so terrifying.”
Molly met Cassandra's suddenly fierce gaze and felt the impact of her presence like a blow. It was frightening-and revealing. This was not a thirty year-old woman. This was an immortal warrior, casting her camouflage aside, revealing the will that had kept her alive for centuries against larger and stronger opponents.
"It will take years, though. Benny is right--it's time for me to move on. My relationship with Xavier has ended. If we're to start something, you and I, I need to know that you're prepared to stick it out until we're finished. Are you?"
Molly swallowed hard, nodded. She wanted this. She needed this. She was scared, still--but she needed what Cassandra was offering. Benny had saved her life, and possibly her sanity, but it was time for her to move on and she was relieved to realize that Benny had known that even if she hadn't.
"Yeah," she admitted. "Yeah, I am."
"Good," Cassandra said, and just that suddenly the warrior vanished as quickly as she'd appeared. She picked up the bottle and poured them both another drink. "What shall we drink to?"
Molly raised her glass and opened her mouth to make a toast when she felt the now-familiar sensation crawling up her spine to her scalp again. She turned toward the mansion again, noting that Cassandra mirrored her posture.
Benny Carbasa, clad in slippers and a robe belted over pajamas shuffled across the lawn toward them. Standing behind them, hands in the pockets of his robe, he looked from Molly to Cassandra and back again, making no effort to conceal his smirk.
"I knew it," he crowed at last. "I knew you two would be good for one another!"
As Benny continued his self-congratulatory monologue, Molly met Cassandra's gaze and raised her glass. "To endings," she whispered.
"And beginnings," Cassandra replied.
Notes:
1. I'm fascinated by Xavier St. Cloud. He was a despicable villain, and yet...he trained at least one student--a villain in his own right--who nonetheless felt loyalty enough to seek revenge for his death when not doing so would have cost him nothing. Xavier once refused to fight a young Duncan MacLeod, saying that he didn't sleep with virgins or kill children; how does this square with the man who would centuries later make use of mortal gunmen to take the heads of other immortals? I think there had to be more to him than just the villain we saw on Highlander.
2. "Robin's Nest" is the name of the estate in Hawaii owned by Robin Masters in the series Magnum, P.I. It is a little known fact (known, in fact, only to me and a few people who've read some of my other stories) that "Robin Masters" was, in fact, a nom de plume of Xavier St. Cloud. Which makes this a crossover story, though purists might object that nobody from Magnum, P.I. Actually appears in the story.
3. Why did St. Cloud write romance novels under a pseudonym? Because it amused him to do so, I suppose. And because nobody is just one thing.