Disclaimer and Notes: Not mine, but having fun with them anyway. This is a work in progress that, at this rate, will likely never be finished. Sorry. Originally posted for the 2004 WIP Amnesty Day.

Another Sunny Day in New York

by Raine Wynd

Nick was working on inventory in the back room of the antique store when the wave of strong immortal presence hit him. The effect was almost nauseating, and at first, he thought it was Connor, coming back to check on him, but then he heard an unfamiliar man's voice, speaking with Gina, the salesclerk on duty.

Nick stopped what he was doing and stepped forward. He saw immediately that Gina was charmed by the stranger's looks. His cop's eye said that the stranger looked to be very athletic, well-groomed, with short black hair and tanned or naturally golden skin. The black trench coat was damp from the rain and loosened just enough to allow free access to the sword Nick had no doubt he carried.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Nick greeted, ignoring Gina's glare that said he'd interrupted her attempt to flirt with the stranger.

"I just stopped by to see my niece," the stranger said evenly. "Your assistant told me that Rachel isn't in today, so I'll try her at home. I'm not looking for trouble; it finds me soon enough." He smiled genially. "I'm Duncan MacLeod."

MacLeod, huh? Nick didn't believe coincidences were ever completely random. Connor had mentioned nothing about having relatives, but Nick's mind had been opened to enough possibilities that he was willing to accept what was presented to him – for now.

"Nick Wolfe," he introduced himself.

At the name, Duncan looked startled. "The one who left Amanda in Paris?"

"Depends," Nick shot back, "on whether or not I should worry that you know that."

Before Duncan could answer, another wave of immortal presence hit them both. Nick almost smiled as he saw Connor walk into the store. Duncan, however, turned slowly and seemed almost to forget there was anyone else in the store.

"You!" Duncan exclaimed. "You made me believe you were dead!"

Connor merely shrugged. "Why don't we take this upstairs?" he suggested. "Gina, please make sure that you lock up when you go to lunch. Nick, you're welcome to join us."

From the way Connor sounded, Nick knew the invitation wasn't a suggestion. "Call us if you need anything," he told Gina, then followed Duncan and Connor to the upstairs loft and into the hidden, soundproofed room.

"You made me believe you were dead!" Duncan shouted at Connor once they were inside.

"It worked, didn't it? You defeated Kane." Connor held firm. "I can't say I regret that."

"You resorted to trickery. Illusions. You manipulated your Quickening to make me believe I was cutting your head off. You made Joe believe that you were dead, that you weren't strong enough to defeat someone."

"I wasn't." Connor paused. "Thank you."

"You're a bastard, Connor. Jacob Kell hurt, and you didn't want that. Why the hell not?"

"You think that taking the Kurgan was a picnic? You think I'm not afraid of overloading?"

"You think I'm not?" Duncan shot back angrily, pacing. "You think I didn't, after Kane and all the others?" He flung an arm towards Nick. "And why the hell is he here, listening to this?"

"Because he's my student." And he'll learn what you didn't, was implied. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, Duncan. You have the faith of the eldest of us and still you doubt you'll ever be out of my shadow." Connor shrugged. "Figured if you thought I was dead, you'd stop doubting."

For a full minute Duncan said nothing, staring at Connor. "You know I would find out eventually."

Connor didn't look surprised. "Now that you're here, you can help me with Nick."

"What do I need help from him for?" Nick demanded. "And what the hell are you two talking about illusions and magic for?"

"Oh, he didn't tell you?" Duncan finally took a seat and seemed to be enjoying the conversation now. "He met a Japanese immortal several centuries ago who taught him to do tricks with his Quickening. Mind you, I had to find out the hard way that he knew how to do that."

"You weren't around to teach," Connor pointed out. "It was almost two hundred years before I caught up with you after I learned, and you were too furious over that redhead to listen."

For a full minute Duncan said nothing, staring at Connor. “You know I would find out eventually.”

Connor didn't look surprised. “Now that you're here, you can help me with Nick.”

“What do I need help from him for?” Nick demanded. “And what the hell are you two talking about illusions and magic for?”

“Oh, he didn't tell you?” Duncan finally took a seat and seemed to be enjoying the conversation now. “He met a Japanese immortal several centuries ago who taught him to do tricks with his Quickening. Mind you, I had to find out the hard way that he knew how to do that.”

“You weren't around to teach,” Connor pointed out. “It was almost two hundred years before I caught up with you after I learned, and you were too furious over that redhead to listen.”

Duncan stared at Connor, clearly shocked. “That was what you wanted to tell me back then?” he sputtered. “That whole, ‘you know there's real magic?' conversation that you never finished?”

“I was expecting you to finish it.”

“Oh my God.” Duncan shook his head, then stepped forward. “You son of a bitch,” he said, hugging Connor. “You're a sight for sore eyes.”

Amused, Nick watched the reunion as the two men caught each other up on old news, bantering with the easy familiarity of old friends. Finally, Duncan turned to Nick. “So how'd you wind up with this old man as a teacher?”

“It's Amanda's fault.”

Duncan turned to Connor. "How the hell did she convince you? You usually don't fall for her schemes."

So Connor and Nick took turns telling the story.

[and this is where the story fell flat on its face and I decided to abandon it.] 2.6.04

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