Immunity 1/5

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Immunity
by T. L. Odell

Disclaimers in Part 0

Part 1

Duncan MacLeod rotated his neck, trying to get the stiffness out.
He must have overdone his workout.  The headache that had started
this morning hadn't abated; in fact, it seemed to be getting more
intense.  The cigarette smoke in Joe Dawson's bar didn't help.  He'd
ask for a couple of aspirin before he headed off to Anne's.  The
summer season was over, Labor Day had come and gone, and things were
quiet at the dojo.  A weekend away would be welcome.  The trees in
their fall palettes would make the otherwise tedious drive seem new.

"So, the good Dr. Linsdey didn't say what was so important that she
had to see you in person?" asked Joe.

"No, only that it wasn't anything about Mary, or her health or
anything like that; just that she'd rather talk face to face.  Do you
have any aspirin, ibuprofen, or anything for a headache?"

"Sure,' said the bartender, reaching under the counter for the bottle
he kept there.  "Didn't think people like you were bothered by little
things like headaches."

"Not usually, but I'd rather be rid of it," replied the Immortal. "It
will take me a good two hours to get to Anne's, and I'll be driving
into the sun most of the way. I won't be more than a day or two -
thanks for offering to keep an eye on my place while I'm away.
Here's Anne's number if you need to reach me."

"Day or two, eh? Are you sure you two won't be having more than
just a discussion?" smirked his friend.

"Nothing like that." Duncan returned Joe's grin.  "We're still
friends, and if she wants my advice, I'm flattered that she called
me.  Besides, it'll give me a chance to see Mary again."

"Well, be sure you strap that dog into the car.  It would be a shame
to have it fly out on those mountain roads.  Somebody would
probably shoot it.  Mary will love it; it's bigger than she is."

"Good bye, Joe, and thanks again," said Duncan as he left the bar.

In the alley behind the bar, he unlocked his car, maneuvered the
large black and white Dalmatian into the back seat and buckled it
in.  He pictured the look on Mary's face when she ran out to greet
him as she always did, and a grin played around the corners of his
mouth.  She was growing up fast.  She was six now, and full of
mischief.  He wondered what her latest trick would be - a
cartwheel, or some new ballet steps, or maybe even a loose tooth.
Perhaps he should have brought her a book instead of a stuffed
dog.  No; he had known the huge dog was perfect for Mary when
he first saw it.  He'd get her a book another time.

He felt better already.  Guess the aspirin were working.  He
adjusted his sunglasses against the glare of the afternoon sun and
headed off to Anne's, trying not to waste time pondering what she
wanted to see him about.  He wondered what she was cooking for
dinner.  As a physician, she was a miracle worker.  As a chef --
well, not quite so good.  She'd improved her skills once she found
herself cooking for a daughter, but her repertoire was limited.

Indeed, the kaleidoscope of colors on the trees made the drive
magnificent.  But, as the sun lowered in the sky, the headache
returned, this time with more intensity.  He hit the button that
raised the top of the convertible, thinking that might help.  Duncan
didn't want to admit it, but he was beginning to wonder if there
was something wrong.  He couldn't remember the last time he had
a headache for no apparent reason.  Besides, he was used to pain;
after more than 400 years, he'd certainly endured his share of
legitimate injuries.  He'd survived broken bones, slashed limbs,
drowning, falling off mountains.  Why was a stupid headache
bothering him so?

"You're just worried about what Anne wants," he muttered to
himself.  "Stop thinking and drive; you'll be there in half an hour."
He glanced back at the dog, which just sat there with its felt tongue
hanging out.

The sun was still above the horizon when Duncan pulled into
Anne's driveway.  Turning to release the dog, the ache in his head
suddenly intensified into a piercing stab.  He grimaced
involuntarily and shielded his eyes.

Anne came down the drive to meet him.  "Something wrong,
Duncan?"

How long had it been since they'd seen each other?  Six months?
Eight?  Too long.  Anne looked good, as always.  Her short brown
hair was tucked back behind her ears, and judging from the red
stains on her sweatshirt, she had been busy in the kitchen.
Whether she was the victor remained to be seen, but Duncan was
sure that there were some tomatoes that had fallen in battle.

"Nothing much, just a headache that's been threatening all day.
I'm fine.  Where's my Mary?" Duncan asked, looking around to
see if the child might be hiding behind one of the trees to surprise
him.  "I have something for her.  Hope you don't mind - I may
have gotten a bit carried away."

"It's adorable!  Mary's with my mom for a couple of weeks.
That's part of why I asked you here.  I'll explain more over dinner.
Hope you're hungry; I think I've finally mastered a vegetarian
lasagna.  At least Mary eats it, and it's gone over okay at pot lucks
at the hospital."

Duncan heard the forced cheerfulness in Anne's voice.  "You
didn't invite me here to test your lasagna, Anne.  What's the real
reason?  We can certainly talk about anything after all these years."

Duncan looked at Anne, but she averted her eyes and said nothing.
All in good time, he thought.

"Here, help me with this creature," said Duncan, handing Anne the
toy as he opened the trunk to get out his bag.

"Your sword is in there, isn't it?" asked Anne.

"Of course; you know I always have it.  I just put it away because I
didn't want Mary to have access to it.  But if she's not here..."  He
grimaced as a new pain shot behind his eyes.

"Duncan, come on inside; I'm sure the sunlight out here isn't
helping. Sounds like you might be getting a migraine," said Anne,
the nervousness leaving her voice.

Anne carried the dog up to the porch and set it in one of the
rocking chairs.  "I think he can stay out here for a while," she said.
"I'll get you some water and some painkillers.  What's the choice
among immortals?  Aspirin; ibuprofen; acetaminophen?  Or do you
need something stronger?"

"Joe gave me some ibuprofen back at the bar; they worked for a
while," replied Duncan.

"Okay, here are two more.  Cheers," she smiled as she handed him
a glass and the pills.  "You can put your sword and stuff in the
guestroom while I get cleaned up a bit.  I'll put the cheese and
crackers out.  I've gotten so domestic, you won't recognize me.  I
have an excellent Willamette Valley Pinot Noir, but I'm not sure
you'll want any if you're taking those pills."

"Just pour me a glass, okay?  I'm fine," he barked as he walked
down the hall to the guestroom.  He saw that Anne hadn't changed
any of the paint colors he'd chosen when he was renovating the
house for her, and felt somehow gratified.  He dropped his bag on
the bed, taking just enough time to notice the vase of brightly
colored snapdragons from the front yard on the table by the
window.  *Something must really be up,* he thought.  *I don't think
I've ever seen cut flowers in Anne's house. Certainly not in the
guest room.*

"It's just a stupid headache.  You know I can recover from a lot
worse," he said with a wry grin as he returned to the living room.

"Right, Oh Mighty Immortal One," Anne smiled back.  She had
taken off the tomato-stained sweats and was wearing pair of beige
slacks and a rust colored sweater.  "Would you like some cheese
and crackers now?  Maybe it's just your blood sugar.  Do
immortals get low blood sugar?"

Not willing to admit that the headache had taken away his appetite,
he forced himself to cut a slice of Jarlsberg and put it atop a water
cracker.  Maybe food would make him feel better.  "Now, Anne,"
Duncan finally said, looking her straight in the eye.  "Why am I
here?"

Anne fumbled with her wine glass, took another bite of cheese, and
then washed it down with a sip of wine, taking a deep breath.
"This is harder than I thought it would be," she mumbled.

"Out with it, or I'm back in the car and out of here, lasagna or no
lasagna."

"I'm leaving Seacouver," Anne blurted out.  "Wow - that was a
little more abrupt than I planned."

"What?  Why?  When?"

"I was offered a position as Chief of Staff of Good Hope Hospital
in Indianapolis.  It's a big promotion for me.  And," she said
quietly, lowering her eyes once again,  "I met someone, and he
lives there, too.  I've already quit my job here.  I'll be leaving in
about 6 weeks.  That's why Mary's at my mom's - she wanted to
spend some time with her granddaughter before we move away."

An awkward silence hovered between the two friends for a
moment.  Anne got up and busied herself with dinner preparations
in the kitchen while Duncan tried to digest what he'd just heard.

"What about Mary?  What about the house?"

Anne spoke from the kitchen.  "That's the main reason I asked you
here, Duncan.  I love this house, and that you built it for us was the
most wonderful thing that anyone has ever done.  But this move is
right for me.  And so is Jared.  Mary loves him, and he loves her,
too.

"I really want to talk to you about what to do with the house,"
Anne continued.  "I know it's in Mary's name, but with us so far
away, I'm afraid that if I let it sit, it will be destroyed in no time.
And I don't know about being an absentee landlord.  Renting it to
strangers doesn't seem right.  I thought I'd put it on the market, but
that seems so cold-hearted.  You don't sell a gift."

Duncan looked up from his wine glass and saw that Anne was
watching him.  "Let me think about this one a little, first," he said.
"I mean, I'm happy that you've found someone special, and that
you're being recognized for your talents, but it is something of a
shock, coming out of the blue like this."

As they moved to the dining room table for dinner, the
conversation was strained.  After praising her cooking skills,
Duncan pushed most of his lasagna around on his plate, and
bypassed dessert.  "It's just the headache, Anne," he apologized.
"I'm going to read for a while and turn in early, if you don't mind.
We can discuss everything over breakfast, before I head back
home."

"I understand, Duncan," she replied.  There are extra blankets in
the bottom drawer of the dresser if you need them.  Can I get you
anything else?"

"No, thanks.  I'll be fine.  A good night's sleep and I'll be as good
as new.  And I really am glad you're happy.  We'll work out
something with the house tomorrow."  Duncan walked down the
hall and shut the door to the guestroom.  He had loved Anne once;
that relationship was over, and had been for some time.  Maybe he
just felt hurt that she hadn't ever mentioned this "Jared" person to
him.  But then, he hadn't been in touch that often lately.  It was
probably just as much his fault that he knew nothing about her
plans.  He changed his clothes, picked up the Clancy novel he
brought with him, and got into bed.

End of Part 1

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