Chapter 2
Present day:Seacouver, Washington 1997
We took our seats and I noticed he had that same curious look to him as he had the day we had met.
I decided to pursue my own curiosity and ask him what was behind the look. "You have a question?"
"Only," he hesitated, "did you just stumble in, or were you looking for me?"
I sighed, wondering if I should tell him the truth or not. I decided to tell him part. "Well, Adam Pierson... next time be more careful about the names you choose for yourself."
An attractive waitress came and went, catching my former master's eye, and leaving two bears with compliments.
This time, he sighed. "The watcher database."
"Yes," I smiled. "Oh, yes." I repressed a giggle as he gave me one of his odd smiles.
"Last I checked," he said with a gulp of his beer, "That was my line." He laughed loudly and drank his beer down to its label. Then he turned to me, as if on official business. "I never thought you'd check the database."
I took a cautious sip of my own beer, trying hard not to spit it out; it really wasn't very good at all. I couldn't figure out why he would drink it. He looked at it and then at me, in question.
I nodded and he took the beer from me, drinking a mouthful of it.
I decided to tell him more. There was just something about being with him again that made me want to confess all... or at least most of it. It was like old times again. "I wasn't exactly looking for you. I was in Paris, browsing for a certain book on lentils and stuck between two books was a CD. I snuck it out in my purse and raced back to my hotel room to try it out in the computer. It turned out to be a load of stuff about some creepy organization of people who stalk us. I skimmed through most of it, then ran across a name that seemed oddly familiar.""
The man let loose with a few light laughs. "Adam Pierson," he mumbled as he drank some more. Then looking up into her eyes. "I can't believe you'd remember that bit."
"Remember?!" I exclaimed, laughing. "How could I ever forget?"
* * * * * * * * * *
London, England 1830
"And you, Miss?"
The question I loved to answer. "Eve Pierson."
The man nodded, amused. "Adam and Eve. Very funny. You two married?"
My master grinned and I felt a hand on my rump. "We are indeed. Could you show us to one of your better tables, please?"
The man nodded and turned on his heels. "Right this way, if you please." He led us to a spot by the window, so that we could look out over the waters at the full moon's reflection. "A light white wine to start you off with?" he suggested.
Adam nodded and when he was gone, looked at me with a question behind his eyes.
I nodded back and held my hand out to him under the table. I felt his fingers against mine as they took the waiter's wallet from me. "A little slow this night, wouldn't you say, Dear?"
"I would indeed," he said with a gentle sigh. "Though I'm expecting the fun to start any minute now."
Smiling, I looked over my menu, the food I knew I wouldn't be given a chance to eat. We never went to places like that for eating, only for having fun and making our... poetry.
"Excuse me, Sir!" we heard loudly and turned to the front of the
restaurant to see two armed officers from Scotland yard accosting the
waiter. It had begun.
"I told you, I don't know anything about any stolen necklace!"
The taller of the two officers, a man about thirty with a thick moustache, took a step back and scanned the crowd. "Which one of you ladies called about the stolen necklace?"
My cue. I would preform as always. "I did, sir!" I said loudly as I rose and walked over with Adam right behind me. "I had it on when I got out of the carriage, I'm sure. And then it just vanished!"
The other officer, a clean-shaven, dark-skinned an slightly older man, turned to Adam. "Is this true, Sir?"
Adam pretended to look aghast. He answered angrily, "Of course it's true! Do you doubt my wife's words? She knows when her necklace is not around her neck!"
The mustached one grabbed the waiter by the arm. "Turn out your pockets, Sir."
"But I did not--"
"Turn out your pockets, Sir!" he insisted, loosing patience.
The waiter sighed and did so, pulling a strand of pearls and a gold watch from out his pockets.
"My watch!" Adam exclaimed, pushing up his sleeve and staring at the vacant arm. "How dare you! That was my father's!" Though I knew his father had to be long dead by this time.
The dark officer took them as the other cuffed the waiter behind his back. He inspected the items and handed them over to Adam. "I'm afraid several of the pearls have been smashed and the watch casing as well. I suppose this man here will be forced to pay you for the damages."
The waiter's eyes were wide with fear. "I did not take them! I swear I did not! But I'll pay anything you'd like to make up for the trouble. Please, my billfold is in my back pocket. If I could get it--" he was cut off as he felt the mustached officer's hand against his rear, searching.
"It's not here. He's lying."
The waiter's jaw dropped a foot and a half. "This is not fair!"
"Tell it to the judge," the mustached officer muttered as he led him out of the restaurant to be incarcerated until he could stand trial. A trial the man would win due to lack of witnesses, Eve knew, for the wronged prosecutors would not even show up.
The other officer tipped his cap in our direction. "Sorry, folks. You'll be repaid, I promise you." Then he, too left, shutting the door behind him with a loud slam to make his point.
It was time for Adam's line. And how he loved to say it. "Well," he said, aghast. "I'm certainly never going to eat at this restaurant again!" Then he took my hand and we walked out, trying hard not to laugh in our fun.
We'd destroyed a man's reputation, set him back years and years, and all the while set some suspicion and buzz through the lives of the little mortals of London. This was one of the more fun adventures... and I knew they could only get better from there!
* * * * * * * * * *
Present day:Seacouver, Washington 1997
I felt the all-too-familiar sensation rush through me; another of us was close. I was sure I knew who it would be and I was not ready to meet with him just yet. I would meet the man on my own terms.
But my assumptions proved to be only half right for in did walk the target of my hunt, the object of my thirty-year pursuit, the infamous and four hundred year old Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. He was not alone, however, past to point of his ever-present and just as ancient katana sword, was a woman immortal hanging off his arm. She was short-haired and slinky-beautiful, not to mention sexy surpassing my own looks, I had to admit. I realized that my first plan of action would not hold up a minute against the woman I had not seen anywhere but in the watcher files. I left
in a flash.
I was sure they had not seen me. That was imperative now more than ever as I took up the second of my back-up plans. Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod would only see my face when I wanted him to and not a minute sooner. Mine would be the last face he looked upon before his death at my sword.
From my hiding place I could but hear them and I stayed long enough just to get a bit of the conversation.
"I'd like you both to meet--" My former master's voice trailed off into nothingness.
"Who was that just leaving?" Amanda inquired with a touch of playful curiosity about his love life. I took in her voice and memorized its pattern, then stored it away in the back of my head for safe keeping.
My former master answered, sounding not in the least bit surprised, "An old friend who is apparently more shy than I remember her to be."
"Well," Duncan started as I heard chairs cluck; they were joining him at the table. "Perhaps you can introduce us some other time. Any friend of yours... "
I spit to my side and hissed as I ducked back into the darkness of the alleyway and disappeared into the night, "Friend, MacLeod? You don't deserve friends. You're the man responsible for the death of one of mine. No, I will never be your friend, only the one to deliver you to Hell!"
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