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Fanfic page with pictures, music, previews, staff bios and episode listings, all you could want, and more, for Highlander fiction fans. HFS season one is finished, we have a total of 23 episodes, and they're all available if you follow the HFS link.

Disclosures by Tasha

This is the third in the Dividing series, the others may be found at:
Dividing of The Ways


Part 3

The park had very few people within it's green boarders after noon on a week day and Mac found his old friend sitting on a bench just watching the few individuals there were.

"It's a beautiful day isn't it," were the first words out of Greg's mouth, which did a great deal to bolster Duncan's confidence. "I hope I didn't cause too much of a stir this morning."

"Well I'll put it this way," the Highlander said with half a smile, "you didn't manage a quiet visit."

The Scotsman took the opportunity to sit down and the two Immortals took a moment to view the lives passing them by. There was a mother and her three children, one of whom was no more than a babe-in-arms. The little family group were anything but peaceful, and yet they had something that neither of the men watching could ever know. Another of those in the sunshine was an old man with his dog. The creature was totally unidentifiable, but it ran and jumped, always coming back to its master and bringing such joy to the gentleman's face. It was all so ordinary, and yet so full of life. It was a great change from the life Greg had been observing when the two Immortals had last seen each other face to face.

"There seems to be quite a crowd around you, Duncan," the younger man said eventually. "I really didn't expect to find anyone except you here. I'd never have come if I'd known Richie was around. If I were him, I'd be sharpening my sword."

"He was a little upset to hear you'd been holding a conversation with his fiancee," Mac returned lightly. "He's a little stressed out about the wedding as well, so basically you picked a very bad time to come to town."

"If I didn't think it would end in bloodshed I try and apologise," Greg imparted the information with a shrug. "How long do you think he'll hold a grudge?"

Mac's face was unreadable.

"What Richie?" he said evenly. "I'd give it a couple of millennia."

That drew a grin from his companion.

"Oh, not so bad then," the ex-photographer said brightly.

Greg was a bolt from the past, he had no idea what he'd stepped into and MacLeod enjoyed the whole nostalgia of it. It was good to see him sans morbid black clothes and with a genuine smile on his face. It was like re-finding a person who'd been lost, and Duncan found himself wishing that his friend's transgressions had not affected Richie so badly.

"So, how is it you're so out of touch?" the Highlander enquired conversationally.

"I am a little behind on the news aren't I?" the artist returned. "Last time we spoke I'd just about got my head straight hadn't I?"

His companion nodded.

"Well after therapy I tried the whole picture thing again for a while," Greg explained calmly, "but it didn't work out. Oh I was huge for a little while. You know the thing, artist has a breakdown, artist comes back and everyone thinks the works wonderful even if you wouldn't show it to you cat. It was sitting in the rain after yet another party that I decided I was sliding back down the path to homicidal cynicism, so I just up and left. I dropped everything, found a monastery and climbed inside to re-find myself."

He looked over to Mac and smiled at the surprised look on his face. Greg had never seemed like the religious type, ever.

"It was just what I needed," he continued happily, "it gave me time to think. There's nothing like brewing beer to concentrate a man's mind inwards. Holy ground's great for peace, and I just let myself forget time. Then a few months ago I suddenly found myself wanting the outside again, wanting to interact with people. I came back to this side of the pond and started to build a new life. It's taken me a while, but I've recreated myself and I've been trying to get into medical school. It's amazing what a few false computer records can do for your prospects and I start in three months. The old Greg Powers dies this year, and Greg Davis will emerge, so I decided to round off his life by thanking every one who's helped me."

There was a deep gratitude in his eyes, and at that moment, Duncan was sure his friend was well again. Up until then there was a nagging doubt in his mind that Greg may have been just pretending, but that look defied all uncertainty. From a shattered beginning this Immortal had put his life back together, and the Highlander could be nothing but happy for him.

"That's great," he said genuinely. "How is it we all go full circle eventually? I'm forever ending up in the middle of an army and you gravitate towards medicine."

"It's how we're made, MacLeod," the other responded with a smile. "We're habitual creatures."

That drew a laugh from the Scotsman, it was so true. To look at these two men did not seem to fit together. One appeared to be a business man, with his neatly pressed trousers, expensive shirt and polished boots, the other was a student type with jeans and a T-shirt, all slightly wrinkled. Yet their secrets bound them together, and an inner fire that could only be seen if the viewer looked very hard.

"So, Mac," Greg said cheerfully, "what have I missed, and why do you have Immortals coming out of the woodwork?"

"Oh, that's a bit of a long story," was the understated reply.

There was no way Duncan could just reveal everything to his old friend without consulting the others, but he was seriously considering telling him at least something. This Immortal was just the sort of person they wanted to find. There was just one obstacle this time, and that was Richie.

"I've got plenty of time," Greg returned with an open smile.

Keeping it in the `family' was not something just reserved for Immortal clans, Karina was working for Joe. This kept her father happy, in that the owner of the establishment could keep an eye on her and make sure the Immortal didn't do anything terrible to her. There was therefore a perfect excuse for Chris to drop in every now and then after he'd finished for the day. Richie's information on Greg seemed to be getting more confused by the hour, so by the time Chris turned up for his habitual visit, he wasn't quite sure how to describe the visiting Immortal to anyone.

"Hello, lover boy," Karina greeted cheerfully as her man walked through the entrance.

She'd been watching the door when he came in. She really didn't know how, but she seemed to have developed a sixth sense as to when he was about to arrive. It wasn't something she noticed much, and definitely didn't think about, but Joe had, and there were nasty suspicions at the back of his mind. Chris hadn't observed anything, but Kari's uncanny knack of being able to spot her boyfriend behind walls was worrying her `uncle'.

The young woman placed a huge kiss on her lovers lips and drew him into an embrace as if she hadn't seen him in years. Young love being what it was, Chris was quite happy to accommodate her, and it took a gentle cough from the proprietor to separate them.

"So how's the art market?" the Watcher asked lightly, throwing his darker thoughts to the back burner.

"The art's fine," the blond Immortal returned lightly, "it's Rich that's worrying me. I suppose you heard one of Mac's old friends appeared today."

"Greg Powers," Joe responded calmly, "it would be interesting to see him and Richie meet." Chris actually laughed at that.

"Just at the moment, I'm not sure if one of them would end up a foot shorter, or just get a bloody nose," the Immortal said and sat down, whilst still keeping one arm wrapped around his girlfriend.

Joe put the glass he was polishing down on the bar, Chris always had the same thing when he came in, one beer and one coffee. It was almost a ritual, and come rain or shine always seemed to happen.

"So he's that clear on the subject, is he?" the barman commented brightly.

"First of all he starts ranting at me," the twin explained with cheerful exasperation. "Do you know how hard it is to keep talking when someone's yelling at you in your head."

He had to smile at the look on Joe's face, of course he didn't know, but the perfect listener's expression was in place.

"Then just about lunch time he wants to talk about it," the young man continued complaining in a most amicable way, "and by the end I think maybe a war can be averted. By mid afternoon he's ranting again, and now he doesn't seem to know what he thinks. You don't happen to think schizophrenia is catching do you?"

"In your case," Joe returned amicably, "I'd buy health insurance now."

By this point in the conversation, Kari was intrigued.

"Okay, guys," she said before they could continue, "who's this Powers person, and what's his connection to Richie?"

Both men looked at each other, Joe was familiar with the history, but he nodded at Chris to explain.

"Greg's an Immortal that Mac had a little trouble with a few years ago, before Richie died the first time and Tessa was killed," the twin began, trying to put everything that he knew about the photographer into a rational order. "From what I can gather, he and Duncan were very old friends, but the last time they met, Greg had gone off the rails. He tried to take Mac's head, but not before he scared the hell out of Rich, and left him unconscious. Well as is probably obvious, our tame Highlander beat Greg, and then he sent him to get some help. Greg turned up at the dojo this morning and bumped into Beren. When my dear brother found out he went ballistic. Since then he's been through about every level emotion between rational to completely irate."

Kari half smiled and raised her eyebrows.

"He's taking it well then," she said sarcastically. "So has this Greg character sorted himself out, or does Rich have grounds for his reaction?"

At that Chris just snorted indignation.

"From what Beren said when I rang her," he told both his friends, "he seemed to be an ordinary guy, and he left as soon as he realised certain people might get upset at his presence. I just don't know what to think. My logical brain says Rich is over reacting, which he's been known to do on occasion, but the other part of me that knows what he went through, is ready to hold the guy down whilst he cuts his head off."

"If it helps," Joe offered calmly, "Greg Powers spent the last couple of years in a monastery."

The look on Chris' face said it didn't much, but thanks for trying. It wasn't an easy task, reconciling the facts with the torrent of emotion that his twin seemed to have become. What nobody else knew, was that Greg's presence wasn't the only problem Richie was dealing with at the moment. There were things going through the young Immortal's head that he hadn't even told his brother and the only reason the other twin knew about them, was the unbreakable bond that sometimes transferred things without conscious consent. It wasn't that the more experienced Immortal was trying to keep secrets from his other half, he just didn't know how to explain. Just recently, as the stress of the wedding started to get to him, Richie had been hearing voices. Not voices that told him to do anything, but voices none the less, and Greg Powers was all he needed.

"I'll keep it in mind," Chris told his companions slowly.

MacLeod didn't return to the dojo until six in the evening, and he was surprised to feel Richie's presence as he walked up the steps. These days the young Immortal habitually went home about five to see Beren, and returned about seven if he had any outstanding paperwork. To find his protege still in the office at this time of day was very unusual, and to say that the Highlander hadn't realised this when he picked his time to return would have been lying. As Duncan meandered through the door he found his young friend leaning against the open portal to his place of work. He smiled blandly at the twin and headed for the elevator, neither of them said anything.

It wasn't that Mac wasn't willing to discus Greg, it was just he could do without it just now. Even the eternal boy-scout became tired of good deeds every now and then. He'd spent three hours telling the photographer half truths and catching up on old times, and he just wanted a stiff drink. For a few minutes he thought he'd gotten away with it, that Richie didn't want to talk, and then the elevator arrived.

"So how was he?" a simple question, and one that opened a whole can of worms.

The other Immortal was looking directly at him as Duncan turned to face him.

"I think he really is recovered," the Highlander returned without giving away his current mood. "He's going to med. school in a few months, and he came to say goodbye. Greg's killing off his old persona and moving on."

"Oh," the other said almost absently.

The wooden door grated as Mac pushed it upwards, and he had to ask his next question.

"Look," he said quietly, "do you want to come up, we can talk?"

Sometimes personal feelings had to be put aside for the sake of other people. Richie suddenly seem to find his feet amazingly interesting. A small frown furrowed his brow as he contemplated his answer.

"No," he said finally, "thanks, but I've got to get home"

The reply surprised Duncan, but for once he wasn't going to argue.

"Okay," was the word that came out of his mouth.

He stepped into his chosen route to the loft, turned round, and realised that Richie still hadn't moved. His instinct was to ask another question, but pushing the younger Immortal never did any good in most situations. The doors slid into place evenly and he reached for the button.

"You want to bring him in, don't you?" it was a straight question, and Richie walked round to the front of the elevator as he asked it.

Hedging never entered MacLeod's head.

"Yes," the Highlander responded calmly, "I think he'd make a good addition to the group."

His young friend stared at him for a long moment in silence. His gaze was not accusing, but it wasn't agreeable either, in fact it seemed rather lost. They both knew that if Greg came with a recommendation from Mac, none of the others would object, except of course Chris who would come down on his brother's side no matter what. That meant Richie was the only obstacle.

"Do you have a contact number?" it was not what Duncan expected to hear at all.

He stood there for a moment, unable to decide what to do, the request was so out of the blue. He was so surprised that the truth of the matter was written all over his face. He had a phone number, but he couldn't make his mind if he trusted Richie enough to give it to him, or not. Quite strange, as far as Mac was concerned, was the fact that his young friend made no attempt to put any pressure on him, he just stood there, waiting patiently.

"Yes," the Highlander said finally.

He pushed the wooden slats up once more and took a single step towards his companion. He fished in his pocket and produced half a beer mat that had been the only plain surface available to write on in the bar where he and Greg had spent most of the afternoon. Mac already had the number memorised and he passed it to Richie slowly. It took a great deal of faith in the young man for him to actually do it, and his pupil nodded an acknowledgement before he turned and headed for the door. Not another word passed between them.

End of Part 3