See Part One for Full Disclaimers and Author's Note.

- Four -

Rhea winced as she hit another sour note, then started cursing.  Herself, her violin, her hormones, and the cause of all her troubles, Duncan MacLeod.  "Damn, damn, damn," she muttered, having exhausted all the more imaginative phrases.  "Why did I have to come here?" she whispered to herself, trying to breathe evenly.  "Why did I ever have to even hear about Duncan MacLeod?  And why the hell don't I just get someone to replace me while Claudia's here?"

Because, her mind answered quickly,  no matter how frustrating this is, you couldn't bear to leave.  To not have the chance of bumping into him when they come to Joe's.  To not see him, admire him, fantasize about him.  It would only be worse if you left.

Because I have to face my demons, she tried to say.

Because you want to be swept away by your demons, her mind corrected, chuckling.  Face it, you want him so badly it hurts.  And you love it.  In some strange way, you enjoy this torture.  You'd rather face it than never see him again.

So I'm insane as well as horny.  Wonderful.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  Laid the bow against the strings and let emotion take her rather than fight her.  To her own surprise, when she actually listened to herself, the tune she picked was one she had heard years ago and never even thought of again until now.  Rhea had as near perfect a memory for music as was possible, but she was still surprised.

It was Scottish, a tune her grandmother had played for her with aging fingers still sharp on the strings of the fiddle.  Lilting but still somehow sad, as at odds with itself as Rhea was with her emotions.  It was perfect for her mood.

Rhea let herself go, submersing herself in the music as she had learned to long ago, in the home of that same grandmother.  She could almost hear her voice now, hear the rain falling on the roof and the barking of the dogs outside.  Her grandmother had moved to the U.S.  as a teenager, but had never lost her brogue, even in the middle of New York.  When she had married, she'd moved to the country; Rhea's favorite memories were of falls and summers spent in the old house.

Her grandmother had been gone for two years now, her father a year before that and her mother when she was eight years old.  She had no siblings, and only a scattering of distant cousins whom she hadn't seen since she had been a teenager.  The Watchers were her family now...and yet, she would leave them if he asked.

She nearly missed a note in surprise.  Where the hell did that come from?, she wondered madly.   I don't even know him, for Godssake!

But you do, that other voice said ruthlessly;  you do.  You've read the Chronicles, talked to Joe.  You know him.  And you know how he makes you feel...

She shut the voice away and stopped playing, her heart skipping the beat her hands had not as another voice took its place, but from outside of her.

"Please, don't!"

Rhea started, her eyes flying open to look at the figure by the metal staircase.  One hand was half-extended towards her, imploring, the brown eyes wide with entreaty.  Rhea felt the bottom drop out of her world as their gazes met.

"Please," MacLeod said again.  "Don't stop."   Then, almost shyly, "It was beautiful."

Rhea swallowed and forced herself to smile.  "Thank you," she somehow managed to make herself say.  His very presence was like a physical pressure on her, his eyes caressing, his voice stroking gently.  She pulled her thoughts away from the images they were heading for, feeling her body already reacting, telling her in no uncertain terms the effect this man had on her.

"Joe's not here."   And you're not supposed to be here either, dammit! I was supposed to be alone! Joe told me you would be at the dojo...  The thought trailed away to be replaced by a suspicion.  She shook it away forcefully.  He wouldn't do that.   He's open minded, but not that open-minded.  He knows I'd be risking my career, among other things, if the Tribunal heard.

Hell, another piece of her laughed.   As if you haven't done enough that would risk the Tribunal's wrath if they heard...

That's different! she snapped back.

Then MacLeod stepped forward and all thought vanished.  "I know ... I didn't come here to see him."

Oh god, oh please, don't say it! Don't, don't, don't, don't ....  Please, MacLeod, don't!!

"I came to see you."

"He said it," she whispered weakly.

MacLeod frowned.  "What?"

Rhea shook her head.  "Nothing."  She forced herself to swallow, wet her throat so that she could speak.  "Why did you want to see me?"

His gaze held hers, unwavering, as he came closer a step at a time.  He stopped at the edge of the stage.  "You know why," he said softly.

Rhea nodded slowly, unable to look away, or deny what had been painfully obvious to both of them for the past week.  They had been avoiding one another fastidiously, practically working up a schedule with Joe of when each would be at the bar so that the other could stay far from it.  It had gotten to the point of being hilarious, except that the more they didn't see one another, the more antsy they each got.  Joe had commented on it more than once, which was why Rhea had suspected a set-up.

But it wasn't; it was just MacLeod deciding he'd had enough.  Oh, Christ, Duncan, can't you see what you're doing to me?  What you're asking of me?!  What the fuck is wrong with you!  She wanted to scream it at him, but managed to bite the words back.  "And you know why that can't happen," she said instead, forcing calm.

MacLeod sighed and nodded.  "I know," he agreed.  "Believe me, I know.  For the past week I've been telling myself all the reasons."  He laughed harshly.  "My heart doesn't seem to care."

Tell me about it.  Rhea slowly stood and crossed the stage, stepping down at the far end, away from him.  She didn't answer; she didn't know what to say.  She laid her violin carefully in its case and closed it, every move precise, but her hands still trembled.  She heard a soft footfall behind her, felt his presence, and sighed.  "I took a vow, MacLeod," she said softly, vaguely proud that her voice wasn't shaking.  "I can't go back on it ... no matter how much I may want to."

Duncan's breath caught.  He looked down at the slight shoulders, stooped slightly as if weary, the glossy dark hair flowing loosely, and his body screamed at him to touch her, kiss her, feel her warm and real in his arms, not a dream, as he'd had for the past week.  "Do you want to?" he whispered.

Rhea sighed and chuckled softly; the sound sent an arrow through him.  "I'd have to be gay, blind, or stupid not to want you, MacLeod," she answered candidly.  "And despite arguments from several ex-boyfriends to the contrary, I am none of those things."   Duncan smiled and laughed despite the ball of tension in his stomach.  "But," she continued, her voice edged with some emotion he couldn't name, "I am a Watcher.  I can't do this.  I ... can't."

Duncan's heart fractured slightly, the rend growing with her silence and the way the light played on that glorious hair.  "Rhea," he whispered and touched her shoulder, turned her.  He had to see her face, had to know what emotions were in her eyes when she said those things.  Did she know the effect she had on him; did she feel the same?  "Look at me.  Please."   She obeyed, and the world narrowed to her face and eyes.

Lost, alone, a reflection of the need and frustration in his soul.  Needing him, wanting him.  He could see it, etched as clearly in her eyes as he knew it was in his.  Rationality, logic, self-control vanished, swept away by the emotions pouring through him, and he kissed her.  She made a startled sound, tensing for an instant before her lips molded to his, opening under them in invitation and welcome.

Duncan groaned.  Her mouth was hot and sweet, tongue sliding into his mouth to caress with the same desperate hunger as his own.  Small arms went round his shoulders and neck, holding fast, her body molded against his as if craving his warmth.  It felt right, familiar, as if he had kissed her before, in something other than dreams.  As if he had held her before, her scent as familiar as the air he breathed, but somehow different, distant.

He pulled away reluctantly, feeling her growing tension.  Her arms still held tightly to him, her body shaking, and he lowered his head onto her shoulder, hugging her close to him, needing her warmth as she had needed his, knowing this might be the only time he felt her.  But if it was, at least he could give them both more to remember than just a kiss.

His hands lowered, stroking her gently, from her arms to her breasts, then further down as his lips moved against her cheek, her throat.  "Make love with me," he whispered.  "Just once...just so I know, so I can remember later..."

She shuddered violently in his arms, her breath quickening, arms tightening about him, and he increased his attentions, savoring the taste and feel of her as much as the reactions he was getting.  "Oh god, Duncan," she sighed.  "...I can't.  If I do, I'll never be able to leave you..."

His mouth left her throat to recapture her mouth and she moaned softly as he put a hand between her legs, stroking her inner thigh softly before sliding up the fabric of her slacks.  "Then don't leave me," he whispered against her lips.  She shuddered again as he touched her most sensitive spot and he smiled as she arched, pressing closer to him.

"Duncan," she whispered again as he moved his lips to her hair.

One hand stayed at her breast, stroking, but the other unzipped her slacks and slipped in, nestling against her.  He could feel her through the thin cotton, wet and ready for him, wanting him.  The thought made him even harder and he moved his hand gently against her.

"Oh god, Duncan, please..."   But it was a plea for something else; Rhea's brain had managed a small enough victory to voice the obvious consequences.  This would be the only time she would be with him if she allowed it to continue; the pain of losing him then would be even worse.  It would destroy her.  Her voice came as an anguished whisper.  "Please, don't..."

Duncan paused, his hands and body still warm against her, his own desire obvious.  "Don't what?" he asked huskily.

The sound of his voice nearly drove away the small amount of rational thought left her.  Then the thought of life without him hit her again.  "Don't do this.  Don't make me feel this way, want you like this...please...don't make me fall in love with you..!"  Her last words caught on a sob as the pain overwhelmed her.  A tear slipped loose, followed by another, and another, until her body was shaking with sobs, not desire.  "Please," she managed again, before tears consumed her voice.  "It hurts too much..."

Duncan's arms wrapped about her and held her close, his voice distraught.  "Oh god, Rhea," he murmured, his voice choked.  "I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry...I didn't think.  I wanted you so much, needed you so much, I didn't think what it would do to you."  Her arms tightened around him, sobs still shaking her, and he felt his heart break, tears stinging his eyes.  "Please, dear heart,  mo ghaol, don't cry.  Please; not for me.  Please..!"

The endearment had been as unplanned as the kiss, but its effect was nearly the same.  Mo ghaol; my love, Rhea's mind translated from her grandmother's few lessons in Gaelic.  Oh god, Duncan, what are you doing to me?

"I didn't even mean to kiss you," MacLeod continued, the words coming out in an anguished rush.  "I just...I saw the look in your eyes and I couldn't stop myself.  All this time...every night for the past week I've dreamed of you.  Dreamed of touching you, kissing you; hearing your music, your laughter.  Waking up ready for you, wanting you so badly it hurt...I tried to stop thinking of you, to not think of you, but nothing helped.  You know, last night I finished off a bottle of Scotch and I still dreamed of you.  I still heard you playing your violin, still felt you against me...I couldn't bear it!" He pulled away, his hands stroking her face gently, tenderly, wiping away the tears that still flowed, though lighter now as she looked at him, her eyes reddened but still beautiful.  "I couldn't bear it," he repeated softly.  "I saw you, looked at you...and I had to touch you, taste you...Rhea...please...tell me I'm not the only one."

It surprised a laugh out of her.  She stared at him incredulously.  "You...you...idiot!" she exclaimed.  "Do you think I'd be like this if you were?!" She reached up a hand and tenderly brushed a tear from his cheek.  His tears, not mine, she thought in wonder and dismay.  "Do you think you're the only one who's been having dreams for the past week? I keep waking up in the morning, expecting to find you beside me, and for an instant I can't understand why you aren't there.  And then it hits me, worse every time, that it's because you don't belong with me.  You don't belong in my life."  She said it ruthlessly, hoping to spark enough anger in him to make him argue, to make him give her a reason to not want him so badly.  To make him leave her alone with her misery.  "Because you're an Immortal.  And I'm a Watcher."

It didn't work.  MacLeod didn't believe the anger any more than she did.  He just held her tighter, and her defenses were useless.  The tears started again, and she felt their warmth falling on her from above as well.  "So what do we do?" she asked finally.

Duncan shook his head, kissed her hair, and held her tighter.  "We survive," he said, his voice strained.  But deep inside, he wondered if that would be enough.

Continued

Email the author!
[email protected]

Back to 'Highlander' Fanfic Index

Back to Main Library Index         Back to Main Fanfiction Index

Adventures of Sinbad   ~~~     Andromeda   ~~~     Angel   ~~~     Babylon5   ~~~     BeastMaster: The Series   ~~~     Beauty & the Beast
Buffy the Vampire Slayer   ~~~     Charmed  ~~~     The Crow: Stairway to Heaven   ~~~     Crusade   ~~~     due South   ~~~     Farscape
Gundam Wing   ~~~     Highlander: The Series   ~~~     Miscellaneous Fiction   ~~~     Mortal Kombat   ~~~     Mortal Kombat: Conquest
Poltergeist the Legacy   ~~~     Raven   ~~~     TSAoJules Verne  ~~~     The Sentinel   ~~~     Stargate SG1   ~~~     Star Trek: Voyager

I can't fix it if I don't know it's broken, so if you see anything out of place or
non-functioning,  please let me know.  Thank you and enjoy your stay!