Claudia's Blues

by KickAir 8P~

The characters and concept of Highlander are owned and operated by Panzer/Davis Productions, Gaumont, Rysher....I'm just borrowing them for a while. No copyright infringement is intended. No monetary gain is accrued. Any original characters belong to me; please ask to borrow them. If you borrow them, please return them in the same condition you found them. Warnings: No sex, no squick, some language, some angst.

Clan Denial Affirmation: Archangel/Avatar/Armageddon never happened, and Rich Ryan is very much alive in my little AU. Even though he doesn't show up in this story.

October 18^th, 2000

The cab dropped Claudia off outside the door to Joe's Bar. Low, deep gray clouds blocked out the sun, leaving the wet concrete steps lit by only a faint neon glow. The red light gleaming on the puddled water made it seem like spilled blood. So don't look down. I'm just stopping by for a visit, that's it. Nothing's wrong, nothing at all.....

It was early, he shouldn't be open. But the door gave at her touch, and she walked into the bar, and into a familiar guitar riff.

Joe was up on stage, playing, while someone sat on the edge with an old bulky laptop. Dark hair, dark skin, handsome, but barely out of his teens, if that. From the way the speaker volume was dancing around, he seemed to be controlling the bar's sound system from his keyboard. "Okay, Joe - give me a few minutes, and we can try it again."

Joe looked up and spotted her. "Claudia! Great to see you! I didn't know you were in town — what brings you to Seacouver?"

"I'm speaking at a music symposium at the university. Duncan was hoping to be here, but he and Adam got held up in Paris - they'll make it in a few days." Breathe, keep the tone light, smile..... "I thought I'd come by and see you. See if maybe we could play a bit together, if you're not too busy.....?"

"For you, I'd make the time. Just had the piano tuned. Want a drink first?"

"Yes, please. Tonic and lemon. Who's your friend?"

"This is Brian — he's with Viridoleo, a band that's playing here tomorrow night. He's helping out with the sound system. Brian, Claudia."

Brian reached up and shook her hand. "Hi, Claudia! You still in town tomorrow? You could come by and hear us play....."

Breathe in, smile, breathe out..... "I'd like that, but I don't think I can make it tomorrow." Or ever.

Joe called over, "Y'know, I remember when you could set up speakers without using a computer. Brian, why don't you show her what you're doing?"

Brian grinned, spun the laptop around, and went into an impassioned monologue on the software. He was so excited about everything he could do with it, she didn't have the heart to tell him what they used for her concerts. Even the system-time is wrong, that antique thinks it's a week from now. Used to be I'd cut someone like him off at the knees before he could get three words out. Amazing how fast you grow up with death riding your shoulder.

Joe put her drink in her hand and made his way back onto the stage. Claudia listened to Brian for a few more minutes to let Joe get settled, then broke off apologetically to get to the piano.

She sat on the bench, flexed her fingers, and positioned her hands above the keys. And, just like every time she'd played in the last five years, she reminded herself of her situation, of the risk that constantly breathed at the back of her neck: that without a sword or any training with one, she'd be killed when some other Immortal found her. That this was a certainty, it was only a question of when.

Well, just like almost every time. Usually, the word was "someday". He'll walk up to me, and he'll slice my head off with a sword. He'll kill me for no other reason than to get my Quickening. She breathed, in, out. Not "someday." Tonight. Her fingers came down on the keys, and she spilled everything into the music.....

"Seriously, Claudia, that was the best I've ever heard you play."

That's because that is the best I've ever played. Anything I've ever wanted to say with my music I'd better get said tonight. I'm pouring out my soul in a little blues bar in the middle of nowhere — stop that! Breathe, smile, "Better than with the Philharmonic?"

"Of course," he grinned, "and that's not just because Blues is better than Classical."

"I guess playing with you brings out the best in me," she quipped, and was rewarded by seeing Joe blush.

He ducked his head and polished the bar in front of her. Before he had to come up with something to say to that, Brian sat down and put the laptop on the bar with a triumphant thunk!

"That got it - I was even able to check the piano's setup, thanks to Claudia." He beamed at her, "Perfect, lady, really!"

"Glad you liked it."

"Oh, the music? Yeah, it was great - wanna hear the playback?"

She laughed — he'd been paying so much attention to his equipment, he hadn't really heard her and Joe play.

"No, that's all right."

Brian nodded distractedly and hustled back to the stage. Claudia rolled her eyes at Joe and said, "He's really in a band?"

"Yeah. Sorry 'bout that - he does tend to be single-minded."

"Not a problem. Let me guess - drums, right?"

"Oh, yeah. And he is good — when he's playing, nothing matters to him but the beat."

"The mark of the best percussionists."

Joe opened the bar, and the evening went on like that, with easy conversation between sessions. Brian was busy at his laptop whenever they played, apparently happy with what he was getting.

There were only a few customers; Joe had mentioned Wednesday was a slow night. But the people there loved the music she and Joe made, even though none of them seemed to recognize her. Claudia probed the spot where her pride — all right, her insecurity — had been before. I'm Claudia Jardine, world-renowned prodigy, and you people don't know me??? Gone, leaving only the bittersweet satisfaction that the customers loved the music itself, regardless of the prestige of the players.

She was careful not to look at the clock. She didn't need to — her watch alarm went off, startling her enough that she dropped her glass. "Shit! God damn the mother-fucker to hell!"

"I've got it, I've got it! Don't worry about it." Startled by the display of temper, Joe watched Claudia while he sopped up her spilled drink. "What's that set for, you've got someplace you need to be?"

Breathe. Breathe. "Actually, yes. Sorry, Joe, could you hand me the phone? I need to call a cab."

"I can get that too." Speed-dial key #1, a little familiar banter with the dispatcher — "Cab's on its way; fifteen minutes, give or take a few."

Claudia had her eyes closed and looked like she was trying not to cry. The odd niggling feeling that had been tickling Joe all night was now throbbed full force. This was about more than some spilled tonic water.

"Hey, hey....." That got her to open her eyes and look at him. "Whatever it is, talking about it will probably help. After all, I am a bartender." He snapped a clean bar-rag back to drape over his shoulder. "All part of the service."

He saw the debate in her eyes, the conviction that, no, it wouldn't help. But she tried anyway:

"Duncan told me you knew...about Immortals." Joe nodded. "Everything?"

"Pretty much."

"Then you know there's nothing you can do."

"You've been Challenged."

She closed her eyes and nodded. Keeping them closed, she said, "Yes. We meet in about an hour and a half. That's plenty of time for the cab to get here and get me across town."

"You don't have to do this! You can-"

"No, I can't! Whatever it is, I can't. I have to do this, Joe."

"You have to walk into an alley or a warehouse or whatever and let some idiot with a sword kill you?"

"Oh, yes. It sounds stupid when you put it like that, but that's exactly what I have to do."

"Most Immortals with your lack of sword-skills would run or hide, usually both. You could lay low until Duncan gets here. Or where's Graham? Doesn't he usually take these things before they get to you?" Rich is six hours away. Should I call him? I know nothing about this guy, he may be out of his league....

"Walter should be looking for me in New York — that's where he thinks I am."

"Great. Who is this guy, anyway?"

"It doesn't matter. And if I tell you, you'll tell Duncan, and.....afterwards, Duncan will go after him."

"This is a problem for you? He's gonna kill you, Claudia!"

"Yes! And he's doing me a favor!" She opened her eyes and looked at him. "Promise me, Joe. If you ever find out who, promise me you won't tell Duncan, or even Adam. That you won't tell anyone who'll go after him just because he took my head." She smiled a bit. "Call it a last request."

Joe took a deep breath. Panicking her wasn't going to help. But it was so god-damned frustrating.....

"Okay, I promise. But, Claudia, do you want this? Really want this? Just look me in the eye and say that, and I'll leave it alone," he lied.

Claudia closed her eyes again. "No, I don't want this. I need this."

"Jesus, Claudia-"

"Yes, I want to live! I think I want it more right now than I ever have in my life! But not without my music, it's not worth that, it's not!" And she was crying, damn it, she promised herself she wouldn't cry...

Joe took the bar-rag off of his shoulder and gave it to her. He said nothing, just held her hand while she sobbed. She wanted him to understand, all of the sudden needed just one person in the world to understand....

It took some effort, but she calmed herself enough to talk. "Do you remember when I became Immortal? How all the life left my music?" He nodded. "Duncan told you: I don't carry a sword, I don't even know how to use one, because knowing that someday I'll be killed is the only thing that gives me my mortality back. It's the only thing that gives the life back to my music. And if I run, it's gone again. Just gone."

"Joe, I was given two rare and extraordinary gifts, and it turned out I had to choose between them. I made my choice. I'm not saying this is easy — it's not, oh, God, it's not. But I don't regret it, not even now."

He opened his mouth to say something, anything.....but there was nothing he could say to that. Then the phone rang. He picked it up: "That was the cab company — your ride's here."

He came around the bar while she picked up her coat and purse. There was still nothing he could say. He opened his arms, and she slammed into him, nearly knocking him off his pins. She hugged him like it was the last human touch she would get in her life, and he tried to give her what comfort he could.

It couldn't last. She broke away and walked to the door. Then she stopped, and turned back to look at him.

"What if it were you, Joe? What if you could be Immortal, and all it would cost you is your music. Would you do it?"

And there it was, the opening he'd been looking for. Maybe he could turn her back, save her life.....all he had to do was lie. Say "Hell, yes, in a heartbeat....."

He looked her straight in the eye, and shook his head. "No."

She smiled at him with genuine joy, turned, and walked out the door.

From the liner notes of "Just Watchin'" - Joe Dawson Bootleg:
.....These are the only tracks where Dawson is playing with an unknown accompanist. Since he addresses her as "Claudia" twice during the set, it's been speculated that this is actually Claudia Jardine. This is unlikely for several reasons: Jardine was never known to play Blues outside of the minimum necessary for her musical education, and there's no evidence that Jardine knew Dawson, or that she was anywhere near his bar any of the times she was in Seacouver. Last, the creation dates on these files were several days after Claudia Jardine was found horribly murdered.....

Acknowledgements: The exploration of Immortality vs. Creativity attempted here and (IMHO) in the episode Timeless owes a great deal to the works of Sharon Webb, who expounded on this theme both thoroughly and beautifully in her Earth Song Triad ("Earthchild", "Earth Song", and "Ram Song").

Thanks to listen-r for her encouragement, and to everybody who read my other stories and said nice things - it helps. And many thanks to my Beta, Misha, for her patience, her insight, her patience, her creativity, and her patience. Without her, I wouldn't have the courage to post this. All mistakes are mine.

Notes: To my knowledge, there's no band named Viridoleo, and I'm not sure there's a band like them in existence: a Modern Celtic Blues band. And no, I'm not saying they play Modern Celtic music and Blues music, I'm saying every song they play is Modern Celtic Blues. And assuming they did exist, I'm not sure Joe would book them. This is what I get for listening to Riverdance, Ashley MacIsaac, Byrnes' That River, and Blues for Dummies at the same time.

Written April 8^th through 24^th, 2001

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