Prelude - Duncan meets an old friend with quite a surprise.
Duncan MacLeod was simply enjoying the air as he aimlessly strolled around the park. He hadn't been in this part of the United States in many years. He had gone wandering, as he often did, and had found his way to the coast of South Carolina. The scene around him could have been in just about any other American city. A baseball diamond and a soccer field were encircled by a running track with a small playground set off to one side. There were cries from the soccer field indicating a game was in progress. All very normal.
Then Duncan stiffened as the familiar sensation washed over him. There was another immortal nearby. Instinctively his hand lifted and touched the back of his neck, his fingers inches above where his concealed sword hung down his back under his long coat. His eyes raked the immediate area but he saw no one that seemed to be looking around in the same fashion he was. Was the other one someone who knew him or a stranger? Was he friend or foe?
Duncan sighed to himself. Sometimes the Game grew very tiresome. He stopped walking and concentrated on slowly surveying each square foot of his surroundings. That was when he saw a man making his way towards him.
The Highlander spread his feet, balancing himself for whatever action he might need to take. The man didn't seem to pose an immediate threat. His hands were spread open and held out slightly from his body, a non-verbal sign of "I'm not looking for trouble". He was slightly under six feet tall with a wiry build and sandy blonde hair cut fairly short. He was dressed casually, jeans and a long sleeve flannel shirt under a windbreaker.
The man stopped a comfortable distance away. Duncan raised an eyebrow. Strange. The feeling had not intensified. This man was NOT the immortal that Duncan had sensed.
"Duncan MacLeod?"
"Duncan Maclead of the Clan MacLeod," he acknowleged.
"I'm William Hamilton of... well, nothing in particular." The man seemed uneasy but at the same time almost amused. "She told me that was exactly how you would respond."
"She?"
"My wife. Once she saw you she asked me to come greet you and ask you if you would like to join us. She sends her apologies but she couldn't come herself as she is extremely busy with something very important."
"Oh? Well, could you tell me who your wife is and what is so important?"
"I think she'd prefer to tell you herself about the latter. However her name is Deirdre."
Duncan was surprised. "Deirdre O'Connor?"
"Well," the man smiled. "Deirdre Hamilton right now but yes, that's her name."
"I haven't seen her since..."
"World War Two, she told me," William finished the statement. "Yes, I'm well aware of who, and what, she is."
Duncan shrugged. After all, it was not at all unheard of for immortals to marry mortals and when that happened generally it was to someone who could be trusted with the secret. He felt perfectly safe and followed the other man as William turned and walked back towards the soccer game. Not only was Deirdre an old friend, but as Duncan admitted to himself without any false modesty, he was pretty much a match for the woman. Not that he could imagine them ever coming to swordstrokes.
The two men made their way back through a crowd of people milling around the stands. There were cheers and groans as the spectators followed the course of the game on the field, played by, Duncan noted, pre-teen girls. Among the cries of encouragement he heard, Duncan had no problem picking out the remembered contralto voice as it cheered on the team with the ball. He craned his neck and then realized that his old friend was running up and down the sidelines, yelling instructions to the girls pressing the attack.
A smile played over Duncan's face. That was Deirdre. He studied the woman who appeared to be in her middle twenties as she waved her arms and shouted. She stood an inch under five and a half feet with a slender build. Red hair hung down her back to her shoulder blades. Impatiently, she raked locks of that same hair away from her face. He couldn't see her eyes but he knew they were a blazing green. They were probably shinning with excitement too.
That was just like the petite Irish immortal. She always threw herself enthusiastically into every thing she attempted, a characteristic he had noted from their very first meeting in Manchu China in the late 1600's when she had been serving as a bodyguard for the Emperor Kangxi's family. They had become friends.
Duncan shook his head, returning to the present. A goal had been scored and Deirdre was dancing up and down. Seeing him, she waved and grinned. She then returned to scampering up and down the sidelines for the remainder of the game, which was won by the team she was coaching, the victory sealed in the final seconds by the goalie knocking away a penalty kick.
The girls on both sides lined up to congratulate each other on a well played game. Deirdre hugged her husband in elation and then Duncan.
"Hi there Duncan! Wasn't that great!"
Since he didn't really see that anything was all THAT exciting Duncan was about to make some concilatory remark when two girls dashed up to Deirdre. One was the foreward who had scored the lone goal of the game; the other the goalie who had preserved the victory. Both flung themselves on the red-headed woman.
"Mom! We won. We WON!" screamed both girls as they wrapped their arms around Deirdre.
"Yes you did and you were both great and I'm so proud of you both I could just bust!"
Duncan's mouth fell open. "Mom"? Immortals couldn't have children. What was going on here?
(To Be Continued)