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Disclaimers: Well...if I have too. They aren't mine. They're someone else's. Happy now?
Notes: Just to be safe I've given this an R rating as I plan on taking the series into more violent areas with a bit more action, shall we say, for Jarod and Andrasta. This is the third part in an un-named as of yet series and comes after the stories Innocence in the Dark and No Longer Alone.
Major thanks go out to Marie Schooner who turned all the bad bits red so I could actually spot them and make 'em better and who made more than one helpful suggestion :) Spoilers for the Dragon House part 2.
Facing The Past
by Caffre
"No go! My leg is broken."
"No, I'm not going to leave you here!"
"Jarod go! Find our parents!"
Kyle looked up at Jarod, his vision slightly blurred from the pain he was in. Coming to a decision, he reached into his coat and pulled out his Flying Cross, the only thing he had ever been given that had belonged to his father. He forced it into Jarod's hand, relishing the touch of his brother, knowing that only just after finding him, he was losing him all over again.
Kyle felt the sting of failure more acutely than any pain he was in. "Don't tell them what I became."
He looked over to Harriet, pleading silently with her to take him away. He could tell just from the innocence that seemed to surround Jarod that he was of more use to the world than he ever would be. Jarod had hope instead of disappointment, the ability to care instead of hate. He knew Jarod was ready to stay with him, to risk capture or death, but Kyle knew he was needed more out there. Not held prisoner by the Centre, or worse, lying dead beside him.
Harriet called to Jarod, and reluctantly he left Kyle's side, running out of the upturned van, leaving Kyle alone with his gun. It would allow him to ensure their escape.
He fired several rounds at the oncoming Agents, fighting the urge to kill them rather than just force their hand. He knew Jarod would have been disappointed in him for killing anyone, and he vowed that, this time, he was going to make his brother proud.
Already he could feel the broken bone in his leg healing, knitting together, and shakily, he got to his feet. He'd never really been put to the test like this before, but what choice did he have? Soon he'd see if all those experiments the Centre had conducted on him would hold out this far.
He smiled as he thought of Jarod as his brother. He'd never felt the connection before, but he had felt it since they had meet up again at the Dragon House, it was almost energy between them. He couldn't explain it. One moment he'd been ready to scare and hurt Harriet into giving him the information about his mother, then he'd heard a noise on the stairs, followed by a feeling of subdued power heading his way.
Kyle was climbing out the passenger window when the van blew, throwing him away from the worst of the explosion, but injuring him badly. He could taste the blood in his mouth, the pain radiating out from his chest to almost every point in his body. His trouser leg was tore revealing a horrific gash, the blood spilling out of him. Not knowing if whatever the Centre had done to him would be enough this time, his fevered mind forced him to crawl to a relatively safe distance from the burning van. Crawling into an old hollow tree trunk, Kyle's body gave out on him and he died.
* * * * *
**5 Months Later**
Jarod was glad to be back in Seacover, despite the chill that still lingered over the city. It hadn't even been that long since he'd been here, but he had no memory of exactly where he'd been born originally. Being 'born' into immorality here gave the place a sense of, well, home.
He squeezed the hand of the woman beside him, giving her a reassuring smile. He knew Andrasta hadn't wanted to come along tonight, but he felt better having her with him by his side. The Centre was on the look out for both of them at the moment, and, considering what was bringing him back to this town, it was more than likely the Centre were still keeping a look out for them here in case they came back.
"It'll be fine. I promise." Said Jarod.
She returned the smile, gaining a little comfort from his concern. "Sorry. Can't help it. Are you sure you know these people well enough?"
He frowned a little at her question, before realising that the woman next to him was just about 2000 years old and it was more than likely her healthy concern about other immortals that had kept he alive all this time. That, and her skill with a sword.
"MacLeod and Adam are good people. Trust me."
"Oh I trust you..." She sighed. "You say this place does a good hot toddy right?"
Jarod smiled, remembering the first occasion he had encountered both the drink and his first immortal. "Yes. They make a great hot toddy."
She offered him her first smile of the evening, hitting him gently with a gloved hand. "They'd better mister."
* * * * *
Methos was sitting at the bar, exactly where he'd been when he'd first met Jarod only a short while before he'd come into his immortality, this time a beer in front of him instead of a whiskey. MacLeod was on the other side of the bar, looking after the place for Joe for a few hours. The bar was quiet tonight, which was exactly how Methos preferred it. Still, more than a few people sat at the tables, enjoying the atmosphere, waiting for it to get busier before the jazz band started up later. It was what pulled people into this place; good music combined with good service.
He was looking forward to seeing Jarod again. If truth be told, he still felt the guilt of his inaction from all those years ago. Catherine was dead in her grave and Jarod had grown up isolated from the outside world. It wasn't something that he could have withstood, cut off from the one thing that made this existence of his worth living, the world of which he would never tire. Over the thousands of years he had spent on this planet, he had grown to cherish his life, which is why he took such great effort to protect it.
"Hey. You want another one of those?"
Methos looked up from his daydream, spotting that his bottle was almost empty. "Sure, give me..."
The unmistakable presence of an immortal hit him, and knowing what time it was, he assumed it was Jarod. He looked up into MacLeod's face, watching him come to the same conclusion. But there was something more...
"Can you feel that?"
Methos nodded. "Two immortals. One a lot older than the other."
The oldest immortal was just about to get up off his bar stool when the door's opened, the blast of a cold winter's night air coming in, causing him to shiver.
It was Jarod all right, but it wasn't him that caused Methos to stand up off his stool.
"Andrasta?"
Both MacLeod and Jarod looked at him, before turning to the woman in question coming out from behind Jarod to look at Methos more closely.
"Bran?" Andrasta took a slight step backwards, withdrawing a little, her eyes giving away a sudden uneasiness. "Good to see you again."
**FLASHBACK**
The invaders had attacked with the cold-blooded efficiency of the ruthless, killing all those who stood in the way of the gold and the glory they so desperately wanted.
Methos, angry at having his life here at the Irish Monastery disturbed, and seeing his friends killed, attacked with an instinct that didn't take time to weigh the consequences. A moments distraction and he awoke to find himself bound and in the bowels of a ship, the unsettling presence of an immortal close by. He opened his eyes to view a woman in a similar position, and it was unmistakable as to who the presence belonged to.
His thoughts where interrupted by the woman secured beside him. "I suppose I'd better introduce myself, after all, I think we're to be travelling companions for a while. I'm Andrasta of the Iceni."
He could have lied to her, told her some name that would mean nothing to her, but suddenly he felt too alone in the world for that. No one who had known him by his true name was alive any longer. Well, at least no mortal and probably very few immortals if any. It had been too long since he'd used it. Coming to a decision based more on instinct than anything else, he spoke.
"I'm Methos."
* * * * *
Bran had been the name he'd been using at the time while he'd been living at the monastery, and he could see the uncertainty hidden deep within her eyes.
"It's alright, they both know who I really am."
"Bran?"
It was MacLeod who had spoken.
"Yes, Bran. Not everyone uses the same name no matter where they go you know."
MacLeod could feel the tension that had somehow crept into the room. A few people closer to them where turning to look and the expression on Methos's face would have been unreadable to anyone who didn't know him. He could also see that as usual it was up to him to be peacekeeper and he tried to defuse the tension a little. "I'm Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod." He said, reaching out his hand to her. "And you must be Andrasta."
She nodded, shaking his hand in a friendly greeting. "Of the Iceni. Nice to meet you Duncan. Jarod has told me a lot about you. It's nice to be finally meeting you."
MacLeod smiled. It was still frosty in the room, and it was no longer coming from just Methos and Andrasta. Jarod was growing more and more concerned by the moment.
MacLeod walked back round to behind the bar. "What can I get you to drink?"
Andrasta took off her gloves, laying them on the bar as she sat down next to Methos. "Hot toddy thanks." She turned to Jarod. "What would you like?"
He suddenly came out of his daze, smiling at her before turning to Duncan. "I'll have a coffee if you have any." He looked back at Methos. "Well, now that I'm here, tell me what happened? What did Raines do?"
It was MacLeod who told the story. Of how he and Methos had been enjoying a game of chess after dinner when the sweeper team had arrived. MacLeod hadn't wanted to kill them, but they wouldn't let the gunfire up, shooting away until half of his home had been destroyed. In the end it had taken two gunshot wounds to MacLeod's chest for him to let Methos use his gun in retaliation. Methos being prepared only due to his healthy paranoia and Jarod's warnings of a possible attack.
"And you called the police?" It was Andrasta who had spoken.
"Yep," replied Methos. "And a fat lot of good they where." He cast a sarcastic look to MacLeod. "They seem to think the Boy Scout here collects lead as a hobby. They don't like him very much." He suddenly realised something, pointing to MacLeod. "I meant this boy scout. Not that one." He finished with a smirk, raising his bottle of beer to Jarod in a mock toast before swallowing a large portion of it.
Jarod could feel himself getting annoyed now. There was some sort of history between both, there was an almost tangible attraction between Andrasta and Methos and he wanted to know what it was. But not here. Not now.
"Any other problems with the Centre?"
MacLeod shrugged, pouring Jarod out his coffee and passing it over the bar to him. "Nope. Not yet, but I doubt they're going to take kindly to us killing two of their people, now are they?"
Jarod could only agree.
* * * * *
Raines sat at his desk, waiting for the data encryption program to finish its course so he could read the information.
He'd requested the confidential reports on Jarod and his brother Kyle, the one's even Sydney hadn't even been privileged enough to see. They had been completed both while Kyle had still been in prison and Jarod had still been under Centre influence. By this stage it was easy enough even for the most casual observer to see that Sydney had formed a bond with his subject, something Raines would never have allowed himself to do. It was obvious that he couldn't be trusted with this kind of highly sensitive information.
Suddenly the gibberish on the screen disappeared, revealing the genetic codes of both Jarod and Kyle, side by side on a split screen. Every so often Raines would access this information in the hope of decoding exactly what the two men's unique genetic structure would reveal, but as of yet, he had had very little success. As far as all tests had shown, the genetic coding was nothing more than a harmless anomaly. Yet, it didn't show up as a physical trait on either of the two men, and he doubted it had anything to do with their unique intelligence.
There had been that moment when, during the time Sydney had been sent away to a symposium in Europe that he had finally been allowed to experiment with the Centre's most valuable asset at the time, but aside from some unusual white cell counts after the heart drug exercise, nothing else of interest had come up, and the high white cell count was attributed to the extremes Jarod's body had been pushed to. Raines had almost wished that the Pretender hadn't been so easily revived. It would certainly have put paid to all this trouble he was causing them now.
It had been their unique genetic structure that had first caught the Centre's attention all those years ago. A routine medical exam as babies had caught the eye of one of their operatives in the outside world and soon Jarod, and not too long afterwards Kyle had been brought under the Centre's domain. It was after the last snatch that their parents had gone deep underground.
He spent the next four hours looking at the screen, trying to analyse what was there before finally giving up in frustration. Again.
He rose up out of his seat, calling to his personal sweeper.
"Fetch me Miss Parker."
The man suddenly looked worried, and Raines, knowing that he was surrounded by idiots, frowned at him. "What is it?"
The sweeper swallowed nervously before replying. "Miss Parker, Sydney and Broots are out pursuing a lead on Jarod sir."
Raines pulled in a lungful of oxygen from his portable tank before being able to reply. "Very well. Inform me when they return." Saying that, he dismissed the sweeper, heading back into his office and his computer terminal. If he could somehow answer his puzzle he knew it would answer so many question, and ultimately place him in an even stronger position of power within the Centre. He would solve this puzzle if it were the last thing he ever did.
* * * * *
Broots could had been running over and over in his mind as to why he had to come along on this trip. Debbie was playing a piano recital tomorrow and he wanted to be sure he wouldn't miss it. He'd opened his mouth to ask something completely different, but instead the question that had been tormenting him all the way over here came out instead.
"Can somebody tell me why I had to come?"
Miss Parker glared at her computer expert Broots, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it with the dying remains of the one she had in her hand.
"I told you before Broots. It's best if you don't know."
She was looking at Broots, but she could feel the waves of disapproval coming from Sydney.
She turned sharply to look at him. "What?"
Sydney appeared thoughtful for a second, before speaking. "I think Miss
Parker, that he has a right to know. He is, after all, here by your side in
what you have only just said could be a dangerous assignment. Don't you
think, after all he's done for you, he deserves to know why he's here?"
Parker pulled in a deep breath from the cigarette in her mouth before
replying, looking at Broots.
"You want to know? Fine! I'm heading for a man who once knew my mother and who reportedly has recently killed two Cleaners from the Centre. You Broot's..." She smiled at him, knowing the discomfort it caused him. "You and Syd here are my cover. Miss Parker goes on another fruitless search for Jarod with her inept team; bringing back neither Jarod nor a clue as to where the hell he might be. Who's not going to believe that?" She leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes, more tired now than she had been in a long time. Her ulcer was playing her up a little and she wanted nothing more than to be lying in bed, listening to her mother singing her to sleep. But then, that was the one thing she had wanted since the day her mother had died, and it would never happen for her again.
Broots shuffled nervously in his seat. "Well...as long as I know."
Parker sighed. It was just so easy to be hard on Broots. He was such a doormat. Yet he was one of only a few people in the world that she trusted. She opened her eye's to look at him.
"Don't worry. This is nothing more than a vacation for you and Syd. I'll be doing this job alone."
She shut her eyes again, effectively cutting off any more conversation that might be aimed at her.
* * * * *
Both Jarod and Andrasta where back in their hotel room. The walk back from Joe's had been tortuously quiet, with all of Jarod's efforts to try and draw her into a conversation coming to a blank.
To be honest, he was scared. Something had happened and he didn't know what. Despite the fact that he had only known her for a short period of time, he didn't want to loose her.
He let them into their room, switching on the light while Andrasta started to remove her coat, telling him she was heading for a shower, ending the chance for him to try and find out more about what was going on. This wall of silence that had come down between them since they'd meet Methos was killing him and he wanted it fixed.
* * * * *
"Care to tell me what that was all about Methos?"
The other two immortals where back at MacLeod's home, a clean up crew long ago wiping away any sign of the fire fight that had taken place here almost two week's ago.
Methos went straight for the fridge, pulling out another bottle of beer. "What... what was all about?"
MacLeod was sick of this. Methos was avoiding the real issue, never minding that being within radius of him was putting yourself in the firing line of his bad mood. "You know damn well what I'm talking about! You and Andrasta! What is it? How do you know each other?"
Methos suddenly turned on MacLeod, the Scot immediately realising why this man could have survived for so long.
"You want to know? You really want to know?" Methos replied angrily
MacLeod kept his voice quiet. Whatever it was, it was obviously upsetting the other immortal. "Yes. Tell me." He put a hand on his friend's shoulder, and suddenly all the tension seemed to leave him.
"I told you once that I'd never married an immortal."
Now this surprised MacLeod. "Are you telling me, you and her where once married?"
Methos shook his head. "No. We never got married. But..."
MacLeod was puzzled now. "But what?"
* * * * *
Andrasta came out of the bathroom, followed by swirls of steam. She had spent far too long trying to avoid what she knew was coming. After all, the pain of it still cut through her sometimes, something like that wasn't easy to forget. And now, seeing him again had brought it all flooding back. Only this time, it wasn't just her that was hurting. She was hurting Jarod with her silence.
"I owe you an explanation."
He was still seated on the bed, just where she'd left him. He looked up at her. "You don't owe me anything Andrasta. Nothing at all."
His words stung a little, but she nodded, sitting down beside him, taking his hand. This time though, he spoke first.
"You still love him, don't you?"
That surprised her a little. She reached out her hand to his face, getting him to look at her by gently turning his head. "Yes, of course. But I'm not in love with him Jarod. I swear."
He wanted to believe her; she could see it in his eyes. "Then what is it?"
Her mouth was dry as she found the nerve to spoke. Even after all this time it was still hard to talk about.
"I met Methos a long time ago Jarod, and, well, we fell in love. We were together for almost 50 years. Some mortal marriages don't even last that long."
He nodded, trying to understand, not really wanting her to tell him that yes, she was still in love with him. He kept quiet, almost hoping against her continuing the story.
* * * * *
"It was like we were married, MacLeod. We just didn't see the need in some priest performing a ceremony for us. Andrasta wasn't a Christian then, neither was I, it just didn't seem important."
"So? What happened?"
"We found a child. A little girl. Her parents had died from disease, and the rest of her kin were happy to be rid of her. Another mouth to feed was something they could afford at the time. We named her Hetta, after Andrasta's mother."
MacLeod fell silent. He knew that this memory must have been hard, and the fact that Methos hadn't just run out on him like so many other times told him a lot about his friend. He really needed to talk.
"I'd gone into town to trade, get a few supplies for the oncoming winter. While I was gone..." He took in a deep steadying breath, before continuing. "While I was gone, three men had come across our house. They must have been robbers, 'cause they took everything of value we had."
It wasn't all they had taken, but Methos suddenly didn't think he could continue the story.
* * * * *
"It was while Methos was gone that three men came to the house, seeking shelter from some bad weather that had come down very quickly. Foolishly I let them in and dropped my guard around them. It wasn't too long that they made their intentions clear. They...they each took their turn with both Hetta and me, killing us both and then taking any thing of value we had. When I awoke it was to find Methos standing over me. He was in such a state Jarod, I swear I'd never seen anger like it, and I've known some pretty evil and brutal men. He lifted her body up and carried her outside, burying her just across from the house in a small clearing in the woods. The he just left. I never saw him again, but I did hear that the bodies of three men had been found. Hacked to pieces."
Jarod had listened to the story with a growing sense of unease, not sure how he could help, only knowing that he wanted to.
"And tonight was the first time you'd seen him since it happened?"
Andrasta nodded, tears running down her face. "She was only 15 Jarod. She had her whole life in front of her. Methos was right. I let them kill her."
"Don't say that! You weren't responsible for what happened! You where alone and you offered shelter to people who needed it. It wasn't your fault that they where what they where. You couldn't have known Andrasta. You couldn't have known." Jarod couldn't take it anymore. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her tight as she finally let go, the tears no longer being held back.
* * * * *
Miss Parker sat in her car outside the dojo the next morning, trying to work up the courage to go in. It wasn't any physical threat that she feared, but rather that this lead, like so many other times, would only serve to add to her disappointment.
She was just about to get out when, looking in the rear-view mirror she spotted Jarod, heading towards the dojo with the woman he had been with in Boston.
Realising that this would be an opportunity too good to miss, she lowered herself carefully down into her seat, waiting until they had passed her and had gone into the dojo.
Her threatening smile was swiftly replaced with a scowl as she realised that Jarod and this woman where heading for the very man she wanted to see. She could either wait and try and catch him on his return out, or call for backup and risk the Centre getting involved, perhaps even taking away her chance to find out more about her mother.
What was she going to do?
* * * * *
Methos had told the entire story to MacLeod last night, earning a little of the disgust he had expected from Andrasta from him instead. Yet it hadn't lasted long. Even MacLeod could see that he had been distraught over the death of his child, something that no one should have to endure, especially in one so young.
They had talked, finally ending the night a little better acquainted. Still, he was more than a little nervous about seeing her again. He had blamed her for so long that after a while, it just felt better that way. It left him the excuse of not having to feel the guilt that was buried deep inside him for so long, the pain of knowing that he could have been there. That he should never have left his daughter and Andrasta that day.
The next morning he had woken up feeling a lot better about the whole incident than he had done in a long time. Now all he needed to do was tell Andrasta how sorry he was. It was up to her to now to except his apology. If she didn't, he couldn't really blame her.
"Hey Methos?"
He turned to see MacLeod, who surprised him by throwing a katana off the wall at him, smiling at him. He smiled back. He was lucky to have such a friend as MacLeod. Despite his do-gooder tendencies, a trait that he didn't share, he knew he was right in not backing away from their first meeting all that time ago in Paris. He wouldn't have missed this friendship for anything in the world.
He pointed the blade of the sword at MacLeod. "Let's see who ends up on his backside this time Highlander."
* * * * *
The sound of metal on metal clashing meet Jarod and Andrasta at the same time a wash of immortality hit them. Taking her hand, he looked at her. He had been angry at Methos, at the way he had treated her almost a thousand years ago, but Andrasta had cut that anger dead away by asking him what he would have done if he had found his lover and child like that. No one could say how they would react seeing their child dead, and it was this that helped Jarod understand him a little better. Besides, it appeared that any hurt and pain she had felt at his leaving her all those years ago was long dead.
Jarod and Andrasta entered the dojo to see MacLeod and Methos sparring, the light glinting off the cold steel of their blades as they never once paused in what they where doing, knowing that they were in no danger.
Quickly though, the fight came to an end, with Methos letting his guard down long enough for MacLeod to use his elbow to hit the older man in the face, then bringing out a foot to the back of Methos' knee, bringing him down and the blade round to stop mere inches from his neck.
Andrasta started clapping, both men turning round to look at her. "Please...don't stop on my account MacLeod. Do carry on."
Both Jarod and MacLeod looked at her, searching her face for any sign of seriousness, but finding only a smile on there.
Methos reached out his hand to her, which she accepted, pulling him back up to his feet. "You always had a weird sense of humour, you know that?"
She nodded, the smile increasing as he returned it. "Always Methos. I'm remarkably well known for my wit don't you know."
He looked at her. Something had changed since last night, and from a brief glance in Jarod's direction, he knew. She'd told him everything.
"I'm sorry Andrasta. About it all."
She smiled, Methos noting the sadness in her eyes, just before she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I know." She whispered. "I forgave you a long time ago Methos. It's taken me this long to realise I need to forgive myself."
"You had nothing to be forgiven for."
She nodded. "It's all in the past now." She turned, walking back to Jarod, aware that by taking his hand, she was showing who and what was her main priority now.
It was MacLeod who broke the silence. He'd been standing closest to the window, and, hearing a noise from outside, had glanced down to see two black sedans pulling up sharply to the kerb.
"We've got trouble."
The other three made their way to look, seeing four men dressed all in black getting out of one car, two more ordinary dressed men getting out of the other, Miss Parker saying something to them as she was drawing her gun.
"Is that woman never going to learn?"
Jarod looked at the three people standing beside him. "I don't want anyone hurt."
Methos looked puzzled. "In case you hadn't noticed Jarod, those people out there have guns."
"Yes, but those with them are...I've known Parker and Sydney all my life, and Broots is someone who'd just being pushed into doing what he's told. You can't hurt them. Please?"
Andrasta took the sword from Methos. "Jarod has to get out of here. He's the one they want more than anything."
The Pretender gripped her wrist. "What are you planning on doing?"
"You just asked us not to hurt them. This is the only thing I can think of. Go Jarod. I'll meet you at the coffee house in Boston in three days."
Jarod looked shocked. "You want me to leave you? No! I won't. I need..."
She quickly leaned forward, kissing him full on the lips. "Go! Now! I'll be fine I swear."
Duncan took a firm hold on Jarod's arm. "You can get out via the roof. You can get over to the building next door and go down the fire escape."
"But..."
Methos looked out the window again. "They're on their way up. You have to go now Jarod, before it's too late."
Jarod turned to look at Andrasta again, and seeing the determination in her eyes he ran with MacLeod for the stairs, only pausing long enough to spare her a quick glance. "I love you." He mouthed at her.
She smiled back, whispering, "I know," right back at him. Moments later he and MacLeod where gone.
She threw down the sword, looking intently at Methos. "Tell me you have a gun?"
He was about to deny it when he quickly changed his mind, pulling out a small gun from an ankle holster, handing it to her.
"You said you weren't going to hurt anyone."
She smiled at him, just as the doors to the dojo flew open, pressing the hard metal of the gun into his back. "I'm not." She whispered, just as Miss Parker came in quickly, two men behind her. "At least, not with any one it'll count with."
Parker saw one half of her targets and smirked. That was until she saw the man known as Pierson raise his hands. Was he surrendering to her?
"Adam Pierson? Move slowly away from the woman." Said Parker, making sure they both saw her gun.
Adam shook his head, but Andrasta spoke.
"Jarod's told me about your interest in this man, and if you come any closer, I put a bullet in him. Are we clear?"
Despite her worry, Parker was furious that once again, this woman seemed to have no fear of her. It almost clouded her judgement, and would have if Pierson didn't hold vital information about her mother. Parker put on her most confident face, the one that told the world she was capable of doing anything.
"You wouldn't dare."
Methos tried to hold back his smile, remembering Andrasta from their time together. "Oh, believe me, she would."
Out on the street, the sounds of wailing sirens grew ever closer, Methos assuming correctly that it had been MacLeod who had called the police.
One of the sweeper's, hearing the noise moved a little closer, and Parker, fearing that with the arrival of the police her chance to question Pierson would disappear, decided to take a chance.
Parker had been taught well by the Centre, her accuracy on the target range the stuff of legends. She fired off a single round, hitting Andrasta in the shoulder.
Realising that if she lost control of the situation, Parker would more than likely make off with Methos as her prisoner, Andrasta did the only thing she could do to protect him. She fired her gun, the bullet hitting him square in the heart.
"No!"
Parker watched as Pierson looked down at his chest in surprise at the blood seeping out of him, before falling to his knees to the ground, finally lying very still on top of a rapidly increasing pool of blood.
She ran to his side, dropping to her knees, ignoring the blood, trying to find a pulse. There was none.
"Damn it!" Parker turned to look at her sweepers. "Take her. And if she so much as looks like she taking in more oxygen than she should, put another bullet in her." She pulled the radio out of her pocket. "Everyone get out now."
Ignoring the cry of pain at the still healing wound, the two men grabbed Andrasta and dragged her out to the street and to their car, pulling away from the curb nice and slowly as the police car came speeding around the corner, not taking notice of them.
Parker turned in her seat to look at her prisoner. God but she hated this woman! She had just taken away the best chance of finding out something more about her mother.
She was just about to say something along the lines of what she was going to do to her, when Parker noticed that the woman seemed to be breathing easier. Remembering back to that time in Boston, when she had hit her across the face with her gun, Parker reached over and pulled at the damaged cloth in front of the wound out of her way. The bullet hole was almost gone, another quick flash of the same blue electricity she had seen in Boston flashing over the now almost invisible mark on her skin. There was no doubt that she'd been shot.
She felt a smile creeping over her face. "I'd forgotten about that. I think you and Mr. Raines are going to have such a fun time together." Parker turned back round in her seat, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter form the pocket I the dashboard. Suddenly she was in a better mood.
She might not have Jarod, she might not have Pierson. But she did have someone that Jarod seemed to care about, and it would give her great pleasure in handing her over to Raines. It seemed like a perfect kind of justice to Parker.
* * * * *
Duncan had left Jarod to run the second their feet had hit the street. He kept on pounding the pavement, not realizing that Jarod had been unable to just leave the woman he loved like that, no matter what she said. Jarod quickly ducked into a doorway, waiting to see if Parker would emerge from the dojo alone.
While he'd been waiting he could hear the approaching sirens and, hoping that at last things where turning his way, had been shocked to hear the sounds of two gunshots ringing through the air.
Moments later, a bloody, but unhurt Parker had come out, Sam and another sweeper dragging an injured Andrasta out the door. Helpless he had watched them take her away.
He knew where they where going to take her. Back to the Centre, back to the place where they had kept him prisoner for nearly all of his life.
Somehow, he was going to have to get her out of there.
Notes: Just to be safe I've given this an R rating as I plan on taking the series into more violent areas with a bit more action, shall we say, for Jarod and Andrasta. This is the third part in an un-named as of yet series and comes after the stories Innocence in the Dark and No Longer Alone.
Major thanks go out to Marie Schooner who turned all the bad bits red so I could actually spot them and make 'em better and who made more than one helpful suggestion :) Spoilers for the Dragon House part 2.
Facing The Past
by Caffre
"No go! My leg is broken."
"No, I'm not going to leave you here!"
"Jarod go! Find our parents!"
Kyle looked up at Jarod, his vision slightly blurred from the pain he was in. Coming to a decision, he reached into his coat and pulled out his Flying Cross, the only thing he had ever been given that had belonged to his father. He forced it into Jarod's hand, relishing the touch of his brother, knowing that only just after finding him, he was losing him all over again.
Kyle felt the sting of failure more acutely than any pain he was in. "Don't tell them what I became."
He looked over to Harriet, pleading silently with her to take him away. He could tell just from the innocence that seemed to surround Jarod that he was of more use to the world than he ever would be. Jarod had hope instead of disappointment, the ability to care instead of hate. He knew Jarod was ready to stay with him, to risk capture or death, but Kyle knew he was needed more out there. Not held prisoner by the Centre, or worse, lying dead beside him.
Harriet called to Jarod, and reluctantly he left Kyle's side, running out of the upturned van, leaving Kyle alone with his gun. It would allow him to ensure their escape.
He fired several rounds at the oncoming Agents, fighting the urge to kill them rather than just force their hand. He knew Jarod would have been disappointed in him for killing anyone, and he vowed that, this time, he was going to make his brother proud.
Already he could feel the broken bone in his leg healing, knitting together, and shakily, he got to his feet. He'd never really been put to the test like this before, but what choice did he have? Soon he'd see if all those experiments the Centre had conducted on him would hold out this far.
He smiled as he thought of Jarod as his brother. He'd never felt the connection before, but he had felt it since they had meet up again at the Dragon House, it was almost energy between them. He couldn't explain it. One moment he'd been ready to scare and hurt Harriet into giving him the information about his mother, then he'd heard a noise on the stairs, followed by a feeling of subdued power heading his way.
Kyle was climbing out the passenger window when the van blew, throwing him away from the worst of the explosion, but injuring him badly. He could taste the blood in his mouth, the pain radiating out from his chest to almost every point in his body. His trouser leg was tore revealing a horrific gash, the blood spilling out of him. Not knowing if whatever the Centre had done to him would be enough this time, his fevered mind forced him to crawl to a relatively safe distance from the burning van. Crawling into an old hollow tree trunk, Kyle's body gave out on him and he died.
* * * * *
**5 Months Later**
Jarod was glad to be back in Seacover, despite the chill that still lingered over the city. It hadn't even been that long since he'd been here, but he had no memory of exactly where he'd been born originally. Being 'born' into immorality here gave the place a sense of, well, home.
He squeezed the hand of the woman beside him, giving her a reassuring smile. He knew Andrasta hadn't wanted to come along tonight, but he felt better having her with him by his side. The Centre was on the look out for both of them at the moment, and, considering what was bringing him back to this town, it was more than likely the Centre were still keeping a look out for them here in case they came back.
"It'll be fine. I promise." Said Jarod.
She returned the smile, gaining a little comfort from his concern. "Sorry. Can't help it. Are you sure you know these people well enough?"
He frowned a little at her question, before realising that the woman next to him was just about 2000 years old and it was more than likely her healthy concern about other immortals that had kept he alive all this time. That, and her skill with a sword.
"MacLeod and Adam are good people. Trust me."
"Oh I trust you..." She sighed. "You say this place does a good hot toddy right?"
Jarod smiled, remembering the first occasion he had encountered both the drink and his first immortal. "Yes. They make a great hot toddy."
She offered him her first smile of the evening, hitting him gently with a gloved hand. "They'd better mister."
* * * * *
Methos was sitting at the bar, exactly where he'd been when he'd first met Jarod only a short while before he'd come into his immortality, this time a beer in front of him instead of a whiskey. MacLeod was on the other side of the bar, looking after the place for Joe for a few hours. The bar was quiet tonight, which was exactly how Methos preferred it. Still, more than a few people sat at the tables, enjoying the atmosphere, waiting for it to get busier before the jazz band started up later. It was what pulled people into this place; good music combined with good service.
He was looking forward to seeing Jarod again. If truth be told, he still felt the guilt of his inaction from all those years ago. Catherine was dead in her grave and Jarod had grown up isolated from the outside world. It wasn't something that he could have withstood, cut off from the one thing that made this existence of his worth living, the world of which he would never tire. Over the thousands of years he had spent on this planet, he had grown to cherish his life, which is why he took such great effort to protect it.
"Hey. You want another one of those?"
Methos looked up from his daydream, spotting that his bottle was almost empty. "Sure, give me..."
The unmistakable presence of an immortal hit him, and knowing what time it was, he assumed it was Jarod. He looked up into MacLeod's face, watching him come to the same conclusion. But there was something more...
"Can you feel that?"
Methos nodded. "Two immortals. One a lot older than the other."
The oldest immortal was just about to get up off his bar stool when the door's opened, the blast of a cold winter's night air coming in, causing him to shiver.
It was Jarod all right, but it wasn't him that caused Methos to stand up off his stool.
"Andrasta?"
Both MacLeod and Jarod looked at him, before turning to the woman in question coming out from behind Jarod to look at Methos more closely.
"Bran?" Andrasta took a slight step backwards, withdrawing a little, her eyes giving away a sudden uneasiness. "Good to see you again."
**FLASHBACK**
The invaders had attacked with the cold-blooded efficiency of the ruthless, killing all those who stood in the way of the gold and the glory they so desperately wanted.
Methos, angry at having his life here at the Irish Monastery disturbed, and seeing his friends killed, attacked with an instinct that didn't take time to weigh the consequences. A moments distraction and he awoke to find himself bound and in the bowels of a ship, the unsettling presence of an immortal close by. He opened his eyes to view a woman in a similar position, and it was unmistakable as to who the presence belonged to.
His thoughts where interrupted by the woman secured beside him. "I suppose I'd better introduce myself, after all, I think we're to be travelling companions for a while. I'm Andrasta of the Iceni."
He could have lied to her, told her some name that would mean nothing to her, but suddenly he felt too alone in the world for that. No one who had known him by his true name was alive any longer. Well, at least no mortal and probably very few immortals if any. It had been too long since he'd used it. Coming to a decision based more on instinct than anything else, he spoke.
"I'm Methos."
* * * * *
Bran had been the name he'd been using at the time while he'd been living at the monastery, and he could see the uncertainty hidden deep within her eyes.
"It's alright, they both know who I really am."
"Bran?"
It was MacLeod who had spoken.
"Yes, Bran. Not everyone uses the same name no matter where they go you know."
MacLeod could feel the tension that had somehow crept into the room. A few people closer to them where turning to look and the expression on Methos's face would have been unreadable to anyone who didn't know him. He could also see that as usual it was up to him to be peacekeeper and he tried to defuse the tension a little. "I'm Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod." He said, reaching out his hand to her. "And you must be Andrasta."
She nodded, shaking his hand in a friendly greeting. "Of the Iceni. Nice to meet you Duncan. Jarod has told me a lot about you. It's nice to be finally meeting you."
MacLeod smiled. It was still frosty in the room, and it was no longer coming from just Methos and Andrasta. Jarod was growing more and more concerned by the moment.
MacLeod walked back round to behind the bar. "What can I get you to drink?"
Andrasta took off her gloves, laying them on the bar as she sat down next to Methos. "Hot toddy thanks." She turned to Jarod. "What would you like?"
He suddenly came out of his daze, smiling at her before turning to Duncan. "I'll have a coffee if you have any." He looked back at Methos. "Well, now that I'm here, tell me what happened? What did Raines do?"
It was MacLeod who told the story. Of how he and Methos had been enjoying a game of chess after dinner when the sweeper team had arrived. MacLeod hadn't wanted to kill them, but they wouldn't let the gunfire up, shooting away until half of his home had been destroyed. In the end it had taken two gunshot wounds to MacLeod's chest for him to let Methos use his gun in retaliation. Methos being prepared only due to his healthy paranoia and Jarod's warnings of a possible attack.
"And you called the police?" It was Andrasta who had spoken.
"Yep," replied Methos. "And a fat lot of good they where." He cast a sarcastic look to MacLeod. "They seem to think the Boy Scout here collects lead as a hobby. They don't like him very much." He suddenly realised something, pointing to MacLeod. "I meant this boy scout. Not that one." He finished with a smirk, raising his bottle of beer to Jarod in a mock toast before swallowing a large portion of it.
Jarod could feel himself getting annoyed now. There was some sort of history between both, there was an almost tangible attraction between Andrasta and Methos and he wanted to know what it was. But not here. Not now.
"Any other problems with the Centre?"
MacLeod shrugged, pouring Jarod out his coffee and passing it over the bar to him. "Nope. Not yet, but I doubt they're going to take kindly to us killing two of their people, now are they?"
Jarod could only agree.
* * * * *
Raines sat at his desk, waiting for the data encryption program to finish its course so he could read the information.
He'd requested the confidential reports on Jarod and his brother Kyle, the one's even Sydney hadn't even been privileged enough to see. They had been completed both while Kyle had still been in prison and Jarod had still been under Centre influence. By this stage it was easy enough even for the most casual observer to see that Sydney had formed a bond with his subject, something Raines would never have allowed himself to do. It was obvious that he couldn't be trusted with this kind of highly sensitive information.
Suddenly the gibberish on the screen disappeared, revealing the genetic codes of both Jarod and Kyle, side by side on a split screen. Every so often Raines would access this information in the hope of decoding exactly what the two men's unique genetic structure would reveal, but as of yet, he had had very little success. As far as all tests had shown, the genetic coding was nothing more than a harmless anomaly. Yet, it didn't show up as a physical trait on either of the two men, and he doubted it had anything to do with their unique intelligence.
There had been that moment when, during the time Sydney had been sent away to a symposium in Europe that he had finally been allowed to experiment with the Centre's most valuable asset at the time, but aside from some unusual white cell counts after the heart drug exercise, nothing else of interest had come up, and the high white cell count was attributed to the extremes Jarod's body had been pushed to. Raines had almost wished that the Pretender hadn't been so easily revived. It would certainly have put paid to all this trouble he was causing them now.
It had been their unique genetic structure that had first caught the Centre's attention all those years ago. A routine medical exam as babies had caught the eye of one of their operatives in the outside world and soon Jarod, and not too long afterwards Kyle had been brought under the Centre's domain. It was after the last snatch that their parents had gone deep underground.
He spent the next four hours looking at the screen, trying to analyse what was there before finally giving up in frustration. Again.
He rose up out of his seat, calling to his personal sweeper.
"Fetch me Miss Parker."
The man suddenly looked worried, and Raines, knowing that he was surrounded by idiots, frowned at him. "What is it?"
The sweeper swallowed nervously before replying. "Miss Parker, Sydney and Broots are out pursuing a lead on Jarod sir."
Raines pulled in a lungful of oxygen from his portable tank before being able to reply. "Very well. Inform me when they return." Saying that, he dismissed the sweeper, heading back into his office and his computer terminal. If he could somehow answer his puzzle he knew it would answer so many question, and ultimately place him in an even stronger position of power within the Centre. He would solve this puzzle if it were the last thing he ever did.
* * * * *
Broots could had been running over and over in his mind as to why he had to come along on this trip. Debbie was playing a piano recital tomorrow and he wanted to be sure he wouldn't miss it. He'd opened his mouth to ask something completely different, but instead the question that had been tormenting him all the way over here came out instead.
"Can somebody tell me why I had to come?"
Miss Parker glared at her computer expert Broots, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it with the dying remains of the one she had in her hand.
"I told you before Broots. It's best if you don't know."
She was looking at Broots, but she could feel the waves of disapproval coming from Sydney.
She turned sharply to look at him. "What?"
Sydney appeared thoughtful for a second, before speaking. "I think Miss
Parker, that he has a right to know. He is, after all, here by your side in
what you have only just said could be a dangerous assignment. Don't you
think, after all he's done for you, he deserves to know why he's here?"
Parker pulled in a deep breath from the cigarette in her mouth before
replying, looking at Broots.
"You want to know? Fine! I'm heading for a man who once knew my mother and who reportedly has recently killed two Cleaners from the Centre. You Broot's..." She smiled at him, knowing the discomfort it caused him. "You and Syd here are my cover. Miss Parker goes on another fruitless search for Jarod with her inept team; bringing back neither Jarod nor a clue as to where the hell he might be. Who's not going to believe that?" She leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes, more tired now than she had been in a long time. Her ulcer was playing her up a little and she wanted nothing more than to be lying in bed, listening to her mother singing her to sleep. But then, that was the one thing she had wanted since the day her mother had died, and it would never happen for her again.
Broots shuffled nervously in his seat. "Well...as long as I know."
Parker sighed. It was just so easy to be hard on Broots. He was such a doormat. Yet he was one of only a few people in the world that she trusted. She opened her eye's to look at him.
"Don't worry. This is nothing more than a vacation for you and Syd. I'll be doing this job alone."
She shut her eyes again, effectively cutting off any more conversation that might be aimed at her.
* * * * *
Both Jarod and Andrasta where back in their hotel room. The walk back from Joe's had been tortuously quiet, with all of Jarod's efforts to try and draw her into a conversation coming to a blank.
To be honest, he was scared. Something had happened and he didn't know what. Despite the fact that he had only known her for a short period of time, he didn't want to loose her.
He let them into their room, switching on the light while Andrasta started to remove her coat, telling him she was heading for a shower, ending the chance for him to try and find out more about what was going on. This wall of silence that had come down between them since they'd meet Methos was killing him and he wanted it fixed.
* * * * *
"Care to tell me what that was all about Methos?"
The other two immortals where back at MacLeod's home, a clean up crew long ago wiping away any sign of the fire fight that had taken place here almost two week's ago.
Methos went straight for the fridge, pulling out another bottle of beer. "What... what was all about?"
MacLeod was sick of this. Methos was avoiding the real issue, never minding that being within radius of him was putting yourself in the firing line of his bad mood. "You know damn well what I'm talking about! You and Andrasta! What is it? How do you know each other?"
Methos suddenly turned on MacLeod, the Scot immediately realising why this man could have survived for so long.
"You want to know? You really want to know?" Methos replied angrily
MacLeod kept his voice quiet. Whatever it was, it was obviously upsetting the other immortal. "Yes. Tell me." He put a hand on his friend's shoulder, and suddenly all the tension seemed to leave him.
"I told you once that I'd never married an immortal."
Now this surprised MacLeod. "Are you telling me, you and her where once married?"
Methos shook his head. "No. We never got married. But..."
MacLeod was puzzled now. "But what?"
* * * * *
Andrasta came out of the bathroom, followed by swirls of steam. She had spent far too long trying to avoid what she knew was coming. After all, the pain of it still cut through her sometimes, something like that wasn't easy to forget. And now, seeing him again had brought it all flooding back. Only this time, it wasn't just her that was hurting. She was hurting Jarod with her silence.
"I owe you an explanation."
He was still seated on the bed, just where she'd left him. He looked up at her. "You don't owe me anything Andrasta. Nothing at all."
His words stung a little, but she nodded, sitting down beside him, taking his hand. This time though, he spoke first.
"You still love him, don't you?"
That surprised her a little. She reached out her hand to his face, getting him to look at her by gently turning his head. "Yes, of course. But I'm not in love with him Jarod. I swear."
He wanted to believe her; she could see it in his eyes. "Then what is it?"
Her mouth was dry as she found the nerve to spoke. Even after all this time it was still hard to talk about.
"I met Methos a long time ago Jarod, and, well, we fell in love. We were together for almost 50 years. Some mortal marriages don't even last that long."
He nodded, trying to understand, not really wanting her to tell him that yes, she was still in love with him. He kept quiet, almost hoping against her continuing the story.
* * * * *
"It was like we were married, MacLeod. We just didn't see the need in some priest performing a ceremony for us. Andrasta wasn't a Christian then, neither was I, it just didn't seem important."
"So? What happened?"
"We found a child. A little girl. Her parents had died from disease, and the rest of her kin were happy to be rid of her. Another mouth to feed was something they could afford at the time. We named her Hetta, after Andrasta's mother."
MacLeod fell silent. He knew that this memory must have been hard, and the fact that Methos hadn't just run out on him like so many other times told him a lot about his friend. He really needed to talk.
"I'd gone into town to trade, get a few supplies for the oncoming winter. While I was gone..." He took in a deep steadying breath, before continuing. "While I was gone, three men had come across our house. They must have been robbers, 'cause they took everything of value we had."
It wasn't all they had taken, but Methos suddenly didn't think he could continue the story.
* * * * *
"It was while Methos was gone that three men came to the house, seeking shelter from some bad weather that had come down very quickly. Foolishly I let them in and dropped my guard around them. It wasn't too long that they made their intentions clear. They...they each took their turn with both Hetta and me, killing us both and then taking any thing of value we had. When I awoke it was to find Methos standing over me. He was in such a state Jarod, I swear I'd never seen anger like it, and I've known some pretty evil and brutal men. He lifted her body up and carried her outside, burying her just across from the house in a small clearing in the woods. The he just left. I never saw him again, but I did hear that the bodies of three men had been found. Hacked to pieces."
Jarod had listened to the story with a growing sense of unease, not sure how he could help, only knowing that he wanted to.
"And tonight was the first time you'd seen him since it happened?"
Andrasta nodded, tears running down her face. "She was only 15 Jarod. She had her whole life in front of her. Methos was right. I let them kill her."
"Don't say that! You weren't responsible for what happened! You where alone and you offered shelter to people who needed it. It wasn't your fault that they where what they where. You couldn't have known Andrasta. You couldn't have known." Jarod couldn't take it anymore. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her tight as she finally let go, the tears no longer being held back.
* * * * *
Miss Parker sat in her car outside the dojo the next morning, trying to work up the courage to go in. It wasn't any physical threat that she feared, but rather that this lead, like so many other times, would only serve to add to her disappointment.
She was just about to get out when, looking in the rear-view mirror she spotted Jarod, heading towards the dojo with the woman he had been with in Boston.
Realising that this would be an opportunity too good to miss, she lowered herself carefully down into her seat, waiting until they had passed her and had gone into the dojo.
Her threatening smile was swiftly replaced with a scowl as she realised that Jarod and this woman where heading for the very man she wanted to see. She could either wait and try and catch him on his return out, or call for backup and risk the Centre getting involved, perhaps even taking away her chance to find out more about her mother.
What was she going to do?
* * * * *
Methos had told the entire story to MacLeod last night, earning a little of the disgust he had expected from Andrasta from him instead. Yet it hadn't lasted long. Even MacLeod could see that he had been distraught over the death of his child, something that no one should have to endure, especially in one so young.
They had talked, finally ending the night a little better acquainted. Still, he was more than a little nervous about seeing her again. He had blamed her for so long that after a while, it just felt better that way. It left him the excuse of not having to feel the guilt that was buried deep inside him for so long, the pain of knowing that he could have been there. That he should never have left his daughter and Andrasta that day.
The next morning he had woken up feeling a lot better about the whole incident than he had done in a long time. Now all he needed to do was tell Andrasta how sorry he was. It was up to her to now to except his apology. If she didn't, he couldn't really blame her.
"Hey Methos?"
He turned to see MacLeod, who surprised him by throwing a katana off the wall at him, smiling at him. He smiled back. He was lucky to have such a friend as MacLeod. Despite his do-gooder tendencies, a trait that he didn't share, he knew he was right in not backing away from their first meeting all that time ago in Paris. He wouldn't have missed this friendship for anything in the world.
He pointed the blade of the sword at MacLeod. "Let's see who ends up on his backside this time Highlander."
* * * * *
The sound of metal on metal clashing meet Jarod and Andrasta at the same time a wash of immortality hit them. Taking her hand, he looked at her. He had been angry at Methos, at the way he had treated her almost a thousand years ago, but Andrasta had cut that anger dead away by asking him what he would have done if he had found his lover and child like that. No one could say how they would react seeing their child dead, and it was this that helped Jarod understand him a little better. Besides, it appeared that any hurt and pain she had felt at his leaving her all those years ago was long dead.
Jarod and Andrasta entered the dojo to see MacLeod and Methos sparring, the light glinting off the cold steel of their blades as they never once paused in what they where doing, knowing that they were in no danger.
Quickly though, the fight came to an end, with Methos letting his guard down long enough for MacLeod to use his elbow to hit the older man in the face, then bringing out a foot to the back of Methos' knee, bringing him down and the blade round to stop mere inches from his neck.
Andrasta started clapping, both men turning round to look at her. "Please...don't stop on my account MacLeod. Do carry on."
Both Jarod and MacLeod looked at her, searching her face for any sign of seriousness, but finding only a smile on there.
Methos reached out his hand to her, which she accepted, pulling him back up to his feet. "You always had a weird sense of humour, you know that?"
She nodded, the smile increasing as he returned it. "Always Methos. I'm remarkably well known for my wit don't you know."
He looked at her. Something had changed since last night, and from a brief glance in Jarod's direction, he knew. She'd told him everything.
"I'm sorry Andrasta. About it all."
She smiled, Methos noting the sadness in her eyes, just before she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I know." She whispered. "I forgave you a long time ago Methos. It's taken me this long to realise I need to forgive myself."
"You had nothing to be forgiven for."
She nodded. "It's all in the past now." She turned, walking back to Jarod, aware that by taking his hand, she was showing who and what was her main priority now.
It was MacLeod who broke the silence. He'd been standing closest to the window, and, hearing a noise from outside, had glanced down to see two black sedans pulling up sharply to the kerb.
"We've got trouble."
The other three made their way to look, seeing four men dressed all in black getting out of one car, two more ordinary dressed men getting out of the other, Miss Parker saying something to them as she was drawing her gun.
"Is that woman never going to learn?"
Jarod looked at the three people standing beside him. "I don't want anyone hurt."
Methos looked puzzled. "In case you hadn't noticed Jarod, those people out there have guns."
"Yes, but those with them are...I've known Parker and Sydney all my life, and Broots is someone who'd just being pushed into doing what he's told. You can't hurt them. Please?"
Andrasta took the sword from Methos. "Jarod has to get out of here. He's the one they want more than anything."
The Pretender gripped her wrist. "What are you planning on doing?"
"You just asked us not to hurt them. This is the only thing I can think of. Go Jarod. I'll meet you at the coffee house in Boston in three days."
Jarod looked shocked. "You want me to leave you? No! I won't. I need..."
She quickly leaned forward, kissing him full on the lips. "Go! Now! I'll be fine I swear."
Duncan took a firm hold on Jarod's arm. "You can get out via the roof. You can get over to the building next door and go down the fire escape."
"But..."
Methos looked out the window again. "They're on their way up. You have to go now Jarod, before it's too late."
Jarod turned to look at Andrasta again, and seeing the determination in her eyes he ran with MacLeod for the stairs, only pausing long enough to spare her a quick glance. "I love you." He mouthed at her.
She smiled back, whispering, "I know," right back at him. Moments later he and MacLeod where gone.
She threw down the sword, looking intently at Methos. "Tell me you have a gun?"
He was about to deny it when he quickly changed his mind, pulling out a small gun from an ankle holster, handing it to her.
"You said you weren't going to hurt anyone."
She smiled at him, just as the doors to the dojo flew open, pressing the hard metal of the gun into his back. "I'm not." She whispered, just as Miss Parker came in quickly, two men behind her. "At least, not with any one it'll count with."
Parker saw one half of her targets and smirked. That was until she saw the man known as Pierson raise his hands. Was he surrendering to her?
"Adam Pierson? Move slowly away from the woman." Said Parker, making sure they both saw her gun.
Adam shook his head, but Andrasta spoke.
"Jarod's told me about your interest in this man, and if you come any closer, I put a bullet in him. Are we clear?"
Despite her worry, Parker was furious that once again, this woman seemed to have no fear of her. It almost clouded her judgement, and would have if Pierson didn't hold vital information about her mother. Parker put on her most confident face, the one that told the world she was capable of doing anything.
"You wouldn't dare."
Methos tried to hold back his smile, remembering Andrasta from their time together. "Oh, believe me, she would."
Out on the street, the sounds of wailing sirens grew ever closer, Methos assuming correctly that it had been MacLeod who had called the police.
One of the sweeper's, hearing the noise moved a little closer, and Parker, fearing that with the arrival of the police her chance to question Pierson would disappear, decided to take a chance.
Parker had been taught well by the Centre, her accuracy on the target range the stuff of legends. She fired off a single round, hitting Andrasta in the shoulder.
Realising that if she lost control of the situation, Parker would more than likely make off with Methos as her prisoner, Andrasta did the only thing she could do to protect him. She fired her gun, the bullet hitting him square in the heart.
"No!"
Parker watched as Pierson looked down at his chest in surprise at the blood seeping out of him, before falling to his knees to the ground, finally lying very still on top of a rapidly increasing pool of blood.
She ran to his side, dropping to her knees, ignoring the blood, trying to find a pulse. There was none.
"Damn it!" Parker turned to look at her sweepers. "Take her. And if she so much as looks like she taking in more oxygen than she should, put another bullet in her." She pulled the radio out of her pocket. "Everyone get out now."
Ignoring the cry of pain at the still healing wound, the two men grabbed Andrasta and dragged her out to the street and to their car, pulling away from the curb nice and slowly as the police car came speeding around the corner, not taking notice of them.
Parker turned in her seat to look at her prisoner. God but she hated this woman! She had just taken away the best chance of finding out something more about her mother.
She was just about to say something along the lines of what she was going to do to her, when Parker noticed that the woman seemed to be breathing easier. Remembering back to that time in Boston, when she had hit her across the face with her gun, Parker reached over and pulled at the damaged cloth in front of the wound out of her way. The bullet hole was almost gone, another quick flash of the same blue electricity she had seen in Boston flashing over the now almost invisible mark on her skin. There was no doubt that she'd been shot.
She felt a smile creeping over her face. "I'd forgotten about that. I think you and Mr. Raines are going to have such a fun time together." Parker turned back round in her seat, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter form the pocket I the dashboard. Suddenly she was in a better mood.
She might not have Jarod, she might not have Pierson. But she did have someone that Jarod seemed to care about, and it would give her great pleasure in handing her over to Raines. It seemed like a perfect kind of justice to Parker.
* * * * *
Duncan had left Jarod to run the second their feet had hit the street. He kept on pounding the pavement, not realizing that Jarod had been unable to just leave the woman he loved like that, no matter what she said. Jarod quickly ducked into a doorway, waiting to see if Parker would emerge from the dojo alone.
While he'd been waiting he could hear the approaching sirens and, hoping that at last things where turning his way, had been shocked to hear the sounds of two gunshots ringing through the air.
Moments later, a bloody, but unhurt Parker had come out, Sam and another sweeper dragging an injured Andrasta out the door. Helpless he had watched them take her away.
He knew where they where going to take her. Back to the Centre, back to the place where they had kept him prisoner for nearly all of his life.
Somehow, he was going to have to get her out of there.
