From: martin@abacus.mc.duke.edu (Michele Martin) Newsgroups: alt.tv.quantum-leap.creative Subject: XOVER: The Witness 24/26 Date: 9 May 1995 21:29:34 GMT Organization: Duke University, Durham, NC, USA Message-Id: <3oomru$8i4@news.duke.edu> scene 30 (cont) As Connor made his way through the woods, he wondered what to do about Hanson. He hadn't been particularly thrilled with the interruption by Paul, but he understood the alien's motives. Well, besides wanting to get Connor out of the area before the police arrived. After all, the evening had been complicated enough without them having to explain things if the cops found him alive and standing over the body of yet another headless person. He seriously doubted they'd take his word that Hanson was a really a nasty person who deserved to die, even if Agent Mulder backed him up on it. But besides that, it was obvious that Paul wasn't happy about the amount of violence he'd been exposed to that evening. Well, hopefully Paul would be able to handle Hanson. He'd have to ask him about it when they all met back at Nick's place. Speaking of which, he wondered where Duncan was. He doubted his clansman would hang around waiting for the cops to show up and he fully expected to meet him outside somewhere. He also wondered if he'd have to walk all the way to Nick's. That would be a pain, but not as awkward as trying to hitch a ride while carrying Hanson's sword. His own katana was tucked safely in his trenchcoat, but there just wasn't enough room for the bigger Crusader's sword in there. He thought about ditching it. But the antique dealer in him argued that it was too nice a piece to just be left to rot here in the woods...or to be found by someone who wouldn't know the proper care and usage of such an item. Still, it was rather unyieldy to carry. At the moment he was cradling it across both his arms, trying not to cut himself with the sharp blade. He glanced down at the hilt. Cross-shaped, with some nice etchings and a few small gems. The weight of the blade was partially counter-balanced with a crystal globe that appeared to contain something in the center. Probably some sort of holy relic. It was hard to see in the dark woods, but Connor had the impression that it was a splinter of some sort. Probably one of the millions of so-called pieces of the true Cross of Christ. He was surprised that someone would've been so gullible not only to have purchased one of those shams but to actually have gone to the trouble of working it into the hilt of a sword. Probably a very pious nobleman wanting some extra divine help on his first Crusade. Hmm--maybe he could tap into a little of that help himself. He decided to keep the sword with him, for now. He cleared the woods and saw an empty street in front of him. He made towards it but didn't get very far. Suddenly something swooped down to land right in front of him. He came to an abrupt halt as he made out the figure of what looked like a man. His eyes widened in shock. *What the...wait, it's got to be another vampire! Nick implied that there were others of his kind around here. Great! Just what I need...unless it's some other type of weird...no, I refuse to think about _that_ possibility.* As these thoughts ran through Connor's mind, the vampire spoke: "Greetings fellow immortal. I believe we have much to discuss." A sly grin spread across his pale face as he advanced toward Connor. "Who are you? What do you want?" Connor asked, trying to buy some time. Getting his blood sucked out was not on his list of things he really wanted to do this evening. Then again, being arrested by the police, interrogated by the FBI, stabbed by Immortal saboteurs, confronted with extraterrestrials, etc, etc, hadn't been high on his wish list either. It was just one of those evenings. "Who I am is unimportant...but I believe you know _what_ I am. Now I'd like to know a little bit more about you. In over 1900 years I have never heard about your kind of immortal. You hide yourselves well. However, I understand it's been a night for exchanging of secrets..." "Well, that's all very interesting, but I'm really not in a sharing sort of mood," Connor began, wondering how to get out of this situation. Running would be useless--vampires could fly and move extremely fast. He wouldn't get very far. Frantically he tried recalling everything he'd ever heard about vampires in search of a means to escape. Vampires could be repelled by garlic and...crosses. Crosses! Maybe a cross-shaped sword would do in a pinch. "It's been nice talking with you, but I'm really in kind of a hurry. Perhaps some other time." "Oh, I don't think you're going anywhere just yet," the vampire replied. Connor could see his eyes beginning to glow with an eerie yellow light. His fangs reflected the light of the moon as he advanced closer. Connor tensed, then abruptly whisked the sword from it's horizontal position across his arms to a vertical, face down position. He gripped it at a point several inches below where the blade joined the hilt and shoved the cross thus formed into the vampire's face. Both of them were surprised by the reaction. LaCroix had noticed the sword immediately but hadn't really been worried by it. True, crosses did burn him, but they bothered him alot less than they did the younger vampires. He was old, and very powerful. And perhaps that fact that he didn't really believe the assertions of Christianity played a part of that. Oh, he understood _why_ the cross was such a powerful anti-vampiric symbol. According to Christians, it represented the willingness of the Son of God to sacrifice His own life and power in order that humans who believed could have eternal life. An almost direct contrast to the vampire--one who sacrificed the lives of others to further his or her own power and eternal life. Thus, the cross was anathema. LaCroix had never been exactly sure why it repelled even vampires who had no connections to Christianity. Perhaps because so many people believed and the belief of the wielder had power. Or, perhaps, though he didn't like to comtemplate it, because the story was true. At any rate, when he really wanted something LaCroix was quite capable of ignoring the pain caused him by most crosses. And he really wanted to know about this Immortal. Perhaps even attempt to bring him across. So he wasn't really worried when Connor made ready to his attempt to ward LaCroix off with his sword. It would be most gratifying to see the Immortal's reaction when his plan failed. Failure might even make him more cooperative. A smug grin began forming on his lips as Connor shoved the make-shift cross into his face. But it didn't get very far. As the hilt made contact with his skin there was what appeared to be an explosion of light. And pain--sudden burning pain that shot through his body. He staggered back, blinded and stunned. What had happened? How could this be? He felt terribly weak, and he dropped to his knees. His vision cleared and he tried to focus on the Immortal. He was well aware that this man knew how to use a sword and was rather well practiced in the taking of heads from opponents. And LaCroix was not entirely sure he could survive decapitation. But Connor seemed almost as stunned as he was. He was staring at the crystal globe on the sword's hilt. From it, a faint light eminated--similar to the light that had blinded LaCroix. It came from the small splinter of wood embedded in the globe. "What do you know?" LaCroix heard Connor mutter to himself. "This relic _isn't_ a fake after all. I think that's one I owe you, Lord." With that, Connor appeared to shake off his own shock. He took one more glance at LaCroix before he headed off. LaCroix waited for his strength to return, wondering what Connor had meant. What relic? Was there something in the crystal he hadn't seen? And how could it have affected _him_? Growling in frustration he rose to his feet. Already he was beginning to feel better. But he needed to feed. He first impulse was to chase down the Immortal who had caused his discomfiture, but he knew that was folly. Not as long as Connor had that sword. But there was another Immortal nearby. Perhaps he would serve instead. LaCroix rose into the air and headed back in the direction he had come. Using his hunting vision, he scanned the wooded areas in search of his prey. There--in the same spot where the sword fight had taken place. LaCroix dropped to the ground behind the man who was shaking his head as though trying to clear his eyes. He could feel the strength of the life force of this one--much stronger than most mortals. He growled softly in anticipation. The Immortal whirled, still squining as though he'd been recently blinded. "Who's there? What do you want?" LaCroix didn't bother to answer. He pounced on the Immortal, as anticipation welled within him. The man fought in vain as LaCroix began to feed. In a matter of seconds he had drained the Immortal dry. Remarkable! The energy surged within him. Normally it would have taken several feedings to regain the amount of strength he had lost. But now he felt almost giddy. He shot straight into the air, laughing. At least he had learned one thing about these Immortals--they certainly made for tasty treats! Connor looked behind him to make sure the vampire hadn't followed. Hopefully he'd be incapacitated for a while. Now he _really_ wanted to find Duncan. He didn't like the thought of his clansman running around this area with that vampire on the loose. Of course, being drained by a vampire wouldn't kill an Immortal or having any other lasting side effect (he hpoed), but it would certainly be an unpleasant experience. Besides, he really wanted to talk to Duncan again...alone. As he made his way along the street he kept his eyes and ears open. Presently he felt the presence of another Immortal nearby. "Duncan?" he whispered. "Right here, Connor," Duncan answered as he stepped out of a nearby stand of trees. "What happened? I didn't see any signs of a Quickening..." "Paul interrupted us to tell me the police were nearby. But at least I got Hanson's sword. Good thing, too--I found out that it comes in handy against vampires," Connor replied nodding to the sword he carried in his arms. "Vampires? You ran into another one?" Connor nodded and quickly explained what had just happened to him. Duncan's eyes widened in surprise when Connor explained how he'd gotten away. When Connor was finished, Duncan replied with an exhausted sigh, "I don't know about you, but I'll be glad to get out of this city. Though for right now I'd settle for getting back to my motel. I'll Anne's really got to be wondering where I've gone to this time. She's already suspicious enough about me as it is. I don't know how I'm going to explain where I've been for the entire night." "Oh, I'm sure you'll think of something," Connor said with a grin. "You've had alot of practice. You know, one of these days you're going to really have to tell her the truth about us. Though if I were you I'd leave out the bit about this evening. Come on--I don't want to stand around here for too long. It's a long walk back." "Walk? Do you intend to walk all the way to Nick's?" "Well, unless you have any better suggestions. Perhaps you'd like to steal a car? Or hail a taxi with your shirt all covered in blood like that and me holding this sword?" Duncan grumbled something under his breath as the two started to make their way along the road. scene 31 Driveway, 4242 Milliways Drive 5:00 am Mulder, Scully, Nick, Sam (and Al), Scott, Jenny, and Paul stood in a group outside the house. Jenny had come in after the police and RCMP had arrived and had been inseperable from Scott's side since, despite his protestations that he was unharmed. Paul had joined them a few minutes later. He'd explained quietly to Mulder and Nick what had happened to Hanson. Mulder hadn't been especially thrilled that Hanson had gotten away, but the knowledge that Duncan had promised to get him any and all information he could on the man made up for his disappointment that "Cancerman" wouldn't be arrested with the rest of his group. They'd managed to make their "escape" from the questions of the RCMP and Captain Cohen by claiming exhaustion and promising to answer any and all queries after a good night's...or day's...sleep. The fact that Scott seemed to be about to fall asleep on his feet helped. As did the hour--it seemed that no one really _wanted_ to deal with the explanations just yet. Especially with George Fox ranting about aliens, police detectives with fangs, and men who rose from the dead and ran around carrying swords. The man in charge of the RCMP contingent had decided immediately that Fox was a lunatic and had issued orders to have him locked up in a psychiatric institute until such time as he was ready to interrogate him. The other "kidnappers" had totally refused to answer any questions with anything beyond a belligerent glare. They were to be locked up in the Metro jail until the RCMP could get around to questioning all of them. "You know, it's going to be alot of fun explaining all this to Cohen and the RCMP tomorrow...or later on today," Mulder remarked. "Well Mulder, we can always tell them the truth--that we believe these men came here because they believed George Fox's wild assertions that Scott was the son of an extraterrestrial," replied Scully. "It almost sounds like you believe that's all there is to it. Which reminds me, have you come up with a good rational, scientific explanation for everything that's happened tonight?" "Mass hallucination." "Mass hallucination? Is that the best you can do?" "It's 5 o'clock in the morning. Let me get a good night's sleep and I'm sure I can come up with a much better one," Scully retorted. Mulder just grinned. "Actually, I don't know how much explanation Cohen will want out of us. After all, we solved the original case. The murderer is dead, supposedly, so case closed. We tell her what Agent Scully said--that the people here tonight are not necessarily connected with the beheadings. Since it's not technically a homicide case anymore, we won't be involved with it. Unless the RCMP wants our testimony," Nick said. "So now all you have to do is explain it all to Schanke," Sam added. Nick looked at him quizzically as he continued, "I think that pretty much wraps up what I came to do. What does Ziggy say, Al?" He paused for a second as if listening to the voice of his unseen companion. Paul and Scott, the only others who could hear Al, registered some surprise at whatever Al was saying, but they said nothing. Mulder wondered why. "Okay, sounds like everything's taken care of. Hmm, wonder why I haven't leaped...well, since I'm still here, for the moment, let me just say that it's been, um, interesting. _Very_ interesting. I'd say I won't forget you but considering what leaping does to the memory, it wouldn't be true." Sam suddenly grinned. "But Al says to say that _he_ certainly won't forget it, much as he'd like to." "Thank you, Sam Beckett, for all your help," said Paul. "I hope one day you do leap home. And thank you, Al. We couldn't have done it without you." "You're welcome...." Sam began. Suddenly he seemed to freeze, then stumble. Nick reached out to help steady him while looking quizzically at Paul. Paul nodded and mouthed the name "Schanke". "Whoah. What a rush. Man, oh, man, I..." Schanke, apparantly returned from wherever he'd been while Sam occupied his body, looked around at the group of mostly unfamiliar faces. He looked confused. "Ah, what's going on?" "Hmm, I guess that guy hit you on the head harder than I thought, Schank. How are you feeling?" Nick replied trying to cover for Schanke's confusion. "I don't know...kind of weird. Okay, this might sound like a strange question, but where the heck are we? And who are all these people?" "You mean you don't know? Don't you remember?" asked Nick. "Ah, well, actually, no. The last thing I remember we had just found the fifth victim of those serial beheadings...Wait, I recognize _you_," pointing at Scott, "you're the witness!" Scott nodded, "That's me. These are my parents," he nodded at Jenny and Paul. Jenny looked genuinely confused, but Paul whispered something in her ear and she nodded. Though she still looked confused. "And I'm Agent Mulder and this is my partner, Agent Scully. We're with the FBI," Mulder said. Schanke looked at his outfit, especially the hat, and gave him a rather disbelieving look. Mulder ignored it--he was used to looks like that. "Detective Schanke, I think you may have been the victim...." Mulder began. Scully cut him off before he could give Schanke one of his famous far out explanations. "...of someone hitting you on the head. We just rescued Scott from kidnappers and in the process things got a little hairy," she said, shooting Mulder a warning look. Schanke rubbed his head. "Funny, it doesn't _feel_ like someone hit me on the head. It's just that my memory is a little..." "Swiss-cheesed?" Mulder offered. "Yeah, that's it! You know, speaking of cheese I'm _really_ hungry." "Schanke, you're _always_ really hungry. Tell you what--Cohen's given us the rest of the night off since we solved the case..." "We solved the case? When? Jeez, maybe I should see a doctor if I can't remember something like _that_." "Ah, no, I don't really think that's necessary. Tell you what, if you still feel a little woozy tomorrow we'll have Nat take a look at you. As I was saying, why don't I drive you home. Get a good night's sleep and you'll probably feel alot better." "Okay, okay. You're probably right. I hate seeing doctors anyway. They always want to stick things in you or something." "Then it's settled. Tell you what--Agent Mulder, you take my car and I'll take the pizza car..." "Pizza car? Whoa, I gotta remember what happened!" "...and return it to the store. Hopefully they'll have your rental car there. I'll return it to you when we meet up later," Nick offered. He and Mulder exchanged keys. Mulder also gave Nick the hats he and Scully had been wearing. Nick and Schanke both got into the delivery car. Mulder could hear Schanke saying, "Hey, I wonder if there are any more pizzas in here?" After Nick and Schanke had left, the rest of them headed out to where Nick's car was parked. As they walked, Mulder turned to Paul. "I noticed you looked kind of surprised at something Al said just before Sam leaped out. Care to share?" Paul looked intently at Mulder for a second before replying, "Al assured Sam that neither you, Agent Scully, Nick or Schanke will get in trouble because of what you did this evening. Apparantly that might have happened if the rescue hadn't worked." "That's good to know, but I don't see why that would surprise you." "He said something else..." "Something else about the future?" "Yes...but I'm afraid I can't tell you about it." "Oh? Why not?" "I don't think it's a good idea for you to know too much about the future, Agent Mulder. I will tell you that it wasn't anything bad. If something bad was going to happen, I would warn you." "So in other words, whatever it is will be a surprise, but a good surprise. I should warn you that I've always hated surprise parties." Paul just grinned in response as they got into the car. -- Michele Martin martin@abacus.mc.duke.edu --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Evil Guest Immortal: "I have you now, MacLeod." Duncan MacLeod: "I admit it. You're better than I am." EGI: "Then why are you smiling?" MacLeod: "Because I know something you don't know..." "..._I_ am the star of this show." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------