Facing The Past
Caffre


Summary: Miss Parker usually gets what she wants, but this time, when 
someone takes it away from her, she gets something even better.

Rating:  R

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 No Longer Alone and Innocence
In The Dark.  More about Andrasta and Methos can be found in the story
Ties That Bind, which can be found at my own website here:
http://www.geocities.com/caffre_19/HighPret.html 
and at the Seventh Dimension Highlander Fan Fic Archive.  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.

Disclaimers: Well...if I have too. They aren't mine. They're someone
else's. Happy now?



* * * * *


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.




The End...