If Only She'd Asked

Disclaimer and Notes: While trying to write Manic Monday, a dueSouth slash, Nick Wolfe came out of whatever corner in this rainy world in which he'd been hiding, seeing sanctuary from those Panzer/Davis dudes who own him, and demanded I write this. Or something to that effect.... :-) I've always wondered if Nick just stomped off angrily or if Amanda caught up with him.

If Only She'd Asked

(An Epilogue to the Highlander: the Raven episode Dead on Arrival)

by Raine Wynd

Funny how the sunlight seemed too bright now, and he swore at the light and fumbled for his sunglasses. He'd been immortal for what he guessed was less than an hour now, and all he could think of how he wished he was dead. He hadn't been lying to Amanda when he'd told her becoming immortal wasn't a dream, it was a nightmare. What he hadn't told her was that he'd had dreamed it, back when she'd led him to believe that she was dead, and he'd gone tearing off after Korda. He'd woken up, too damned glad to be mortal to ever want the life she had. The irony of it all rubbed raw on his soul.

He knew he wasn't going far. He just needed some time — time, hell, I've got forever, if I can keep my head — and he knew he'd be safe on Holy Ground until he figured out what the hell his next move would be. To say this was the last thing he expected when he woke up this morning was the least of what he could say. The paradox of being alive when he had fully expected to die, and not wanting this cursed gift in exchange for being alive was playing havoc with his head.

His heart was another matter entirely. He'd fallen hard for Amanda, the kind of love that would risk life and limb to mete out justice if need be, with little or no reservations. Now the rules had changed. It had been easier to rationalize away his feelings, easier to flirt with her while he figured out just what his feelings for her were, to say that they were friends and housemates and almost-lovers. He'd done so knowing that his time with her was short, and that he'd never have full possession of her heart because she was Immortal and he was not. Now that he was immortal, everything was different. With a single gunshot, she'd changed the rules, and he couldn't accept them blithely.

Nick headed for the car, bitterly aware that until he reached Sanctuary or a church, he was a prime target. He wasn't too surprised when he heard Amanda calling his name. Reluctantly, he slowed his steps, but didn't turn immediately. He was too aware that he was feeling far too vulnerable right now for his own sense of comfort, and that he might say something to Amanda that he would regret later.

"Nick, wait!"

He turned, half-wanting to close his eyes against her beauty. "I know," he ground out. "I got a red bulls-eye painted on me right now."

She shook her head, tears in her eyes. "That's one thing," she agreed, choking back a sob and regaining composure in a way that spoke of years of playing a chameleon under pressure. "Be mad at me all you want, Nick. I'm not going to apologize for something I don't regret, not really. If you want to die, then I'll— "

"Let me commit suicide?" Nick sneered. "I may not like this, Amanda, but I already died once under your expert hands. I'm not about to let you try again and make it stick."

"All right," she agreed quietly, and opened up the car. She didn't get in; instead, she looked at Nick from across the expanse of the roof of the car and asked, "Do you trust me enough to get you home, onto Holy Ground?"

He stared at her a long time. Emotions, dark and painful, swirled in his gut, and clung to him like a second skin. Whatever he was feeling about being immortal wasn't going to settle just yet, and he was smart enough to know that Paris had entirely too many other immortals to want to risk a confrontation anytime soon. Something told him that why he was having such a hard time adjusting was because of Amanda, and until he'd gotten that under control, he wasn't all that interested in dying.

Silently, he damned her for knowing that once he was alive, he wasn't about to give up his life. Reluctantly, he got into the car, and resolutely ignored her until they were back home. Maybe, if he slept on it, it would all be some nightmare, and he'd — but he stopped the thought before he could complete it. He'd always been a realist, someone who could pack up the pieces and deal with the here and now and figure out what to do to keep it all going so life wasn't chaos. He stole a glance at Amanda as they got out of the car and knew, just knew, that he'd already forgiven her for playing God. What he couldn't forgive was that in doing so, she'd crossed herself off the list of people he could love, and his heart was breaking with the knowledge that it had been hers, if only she would've asked.