The One

The One

This is a Pretender/ Highlander crossover.  Gavin is a character of my own creation.  He first appeared in the fiction, “Favors.”  He was about 17 at the time of his first “death,” and was trained by Methos, with a little help from MacLeod and Richie. 

For those not familiar with Highlander:  Immortals can only be killed if you cut their head off of.  If another immortal cuts off the head, he absorbs his power.

For those not familiar with Pretender:  How can I even begin to explain the center?  Well, Jarod is a Pretender who has the gift of being able to pretend to be whoever he wants to be, which the center used to run similations, some of the data which they used for evil purposes.  He was stolen from his family at a very young age, and didn’t escape until he was in his 20s or 30s.  The good guys are basically Jarod; Sydney, who was Jarod’s protector and father-figure at the center.  His job now is supposed to be trying to catch Jarod, but he helps him more often than not;  Angelo, who is an empath, and somewhat of a telepath, and was also stolen by the Centre at a very young age; Broots- who’s well-meaning.  He’s supposed to be helping catch Jarod, also, but Jarod once saved his life.

Bad guys:  Mr. Raines- he’s evil, bald, and needs oxygen, Mr. Lyle- Miss Parker’s brother, wasn’t raised with her, evil, evil, evil.



Monday 15 June


     “Pull the car over!” the Center agent barked.  He had seen something in an alleyway.  “Back up,” he commanded. 

     The car reached the alley just as the blade was thrust through Gavin ‘s chest. 

“Fooled ya,” Gavin grinned and brought his own sword across the man’s neck, severing his head.  He pulled the other sword out of him in time to receive the quickening. 

     Lightening formed around the boy in the alley.  It didn’t seem to be hurting the boy, rather, he embraced it, screaming nearly orgasmically with each shock.  The lightening stopped and the boy collapsed to the ground in an incoherent heap.  “Get him,” the agent commanded, and several men got from the car and retrieved the boy’s flaccid body, dumping it into the trunk of the Lincoln after securing his arms and legs.  “Go straight to the center,” the agent told the driver before the other agents could even get back into the car.


Thursday 18 June


“What is it, Broots,” Miss Parker sighed.  She’d seen that look on Broots’ face to many times, and knew if she didn’t ask, he wouldn’t be able to keep his mind on anything else the rest of the day.

”Well, you know Manny the Mute?  Well, he’d borrowed my karaoke machine again, and I went down to see if he was done with it, because my daughter’s birthday is coming up, and she was hoping to use it at her party, so…”


“Just spit it out, Broots,” Parker interrupted.


“Yes, Miss Parker.  Well.  Here,” He pushed a file folder over to Parker. 

Sydney rose to join Parker on the other side of the table to see what was in the files.  There was a series of photographs.  First were what appeared to be several autopsy pictures, with a young man lying open on the table.  Following were pictures of the same man doing various physical activities. 

“So one of their test subjects, croaked?”  Parker probed Brutes.


“Well, that’s the thing… Look at the time down in the corner of the photos.  The autopsy photos were taken before the activities photos,” Brutes told them before they could look down. 


Sydney’s eyes narrowed.  “When were these taken?”


“Well, these are from today, but Manny managed to tell me that they’ve been passing through his office since Monday.  Each death picture more gruesome than the last.”


“Are you telling me that the Centre has created something that can’t be killed?”  Parker croaked.


“Well, Miss Parker, that’s what I thought at first, but why would they keep testing him if they created him not to die?”


“Why, indeed,” Sydney breathed.  “I’ll see if I can’t get Raines to let me in on this project.


Gavin awoke with the feeling of receding pain.  He looked down as far as the restraint strap on his head would let him and saw several gashes with the skin almost completely recovering them.  “Damn it,” he spat.  “If you’re Renegade Watchers, why don’t you just kill me already?”  He didn’t particularly want that, and figured if they were going to kill him, they’d have done it by now, but he wanted to see if he could push their buttons to find out what was going on. 


A tall bald man walked into the room, wheeling an oxygen tank behind him.  “You can be killed?” the man hissed.


“Ah, no, obviously,” Gavin lied.  “It’s just an expression.  Who are you?”


“Oh, where are my manners?  My name is Mr. Raines.  You, I presume, are Gavin Scott?”


“Eh… how do you figure?”


“You may have mentioned a few times during the procedures… actually, you said ‘I am Gavin McScott of the Clan MacScott, and you are dead.’.”


“Ah,” Gavin said, “It’s a bit of an inside joke, really.”


“So, I gathered,” Raines said.  “Now, are you going to tell us what you are, or must we continue these experiments.”


“I’m a boy, and my name is Anakin,” Gavin squealed in a higher pitched voice. 


Raines looked to a younger man across the room.  “It’s from Star Wars,” he said, not looking up for the paper he was writing on.  “Episode 1.” 


“Thank you Mr. Lyle, please come with me.  As for you, Mr. Scott, get some rest.”


Mr. Raines pulled Lyle aside.  “Exactly what are we trying to do here, again,” Lyle asked. 


“Can you imagine?  A Pretender…that cannot be killed!  If we can find the secrets within this boy, perhaps we can engineer our own.  If not, perhaps this Scott is yet young enough to be trained.  Initial tests show he has latent potential.”  Raines’ beeper vibrated.  He looked down, and almost smiled.  “Sydney is beeping me.”

     “Who wants to guess he knows about Scott?” Lyle finished Raines’ thought. 


“How are you doing, Sidney?” Raines walked into Sydney’s office. 

“Well, to be honest, I’m a bit bored.  Chasing Jarod takes a good amount of time, but I must say, I miss the interaction with the subjects.  It was quite interesting on a psychological level”

“Indeed.  Well, we have an interesting case right now.  He is not genetically engineered, at least not by us, yet he seems to be somewhat of an immortal.”

“Immortal?” Sydney laughed, Raines was gaging his reaction.  “You can’t be serious?”

“Oh, I’m deadly serious, Sydney.  And we could use your help getting him to talk.


Sidney walked into the room.  They had the boy strapped down to a chair, but his arms were free.  Sid reached out to shake his hands.  “Hello, I’m Sidney,” he introduced himself. 

Gavin turned Sidney’s wrist over and examined it.  He sighed and released it. 

Sydney sat down at the table opposite Gavin.  “Looking for this?” Sidney pushed a piece of paper over to Gavin.  It was a symbol- a blue circle, with what could be considered a funny shaped “Y” in the middle.  He guessed if you turned it the other way and squinted, it could possible be a “W”

Gavin looked at the Watcher’s symbol.  “You know what this is?”  Sidney shook his head no.  “Then where’d you get it?”

“Angelo.”  He motioned towards the door way, and a man shuffled in. 

“Have a seat, Angelo,” Sidney coaxed.

“Hiya,” Gavin nodded.  “You a prisoner here, too?”

Angelo looked from Gavin to Sidney.  “Much pain.”

“You’re not kiddin’,” Gavin affirmed.

“Needs to feel the lightening.”

Gavin raised his eyebrows.


Part II

“Adam Pierson” aka Methos, the worlds oldest living immortal, sprawled languidly on his couch. He paged through a copy of The Iliad in the original Greek, then laughed remember who Homer really was. No one was even close with their theories. Methos’ reminitions were interrupted by the shrill ringing of his phone. “Pierson,” he answered the cordless lying beside him. “Adam, it’s Joe… I’ve just spoken to Gavin’s Watcher…Gavin is in serious trouble,” the Watcher told him.
Methos sat stark up. “I’ll be right there.”
Weird things happened in the vicinity of Joe’s Bar. And Jarod was curious to know the reason. “Maybe I’ll go check it out,” he’d told the hobo who’d warned him about it on the train. “Sooner or later, everyone goes to Joe’s,” the man said matter-of-factly. “Good music, good service, but watch you don’t end up in a body bag.”
Jarod had thanked the man for his advice, then headed to Seacouver. He had managed to get into a blues band to replace a missing saxophonist. It was definitely a place where something was happening. Jarod sucked on a reed while he thought about the facts. First, there were all those people with the tattoos on their wrist, just like the one on the proprietor’s-Joe’s- wrist. Then there were an inordinate amount of people in trench coats for this time of year. Not that Jarod had anything against trench coats. There was just something that wasn’t right. A feeling he got whenever one of those people came into the bar. Although, he had made a tenuous friendship with one of them, a Duncan MacLeod who ran a Martial Arts dojo nearby. Jarod knew a thing or two about Martial Arts, and had earned MacLeod’s respect by keeping his own when they sparred. There was Duncan MacLeod now. He waved to the man, who didn’t seem to see anything except the path to the bar. MacLeod and Joe whispered in low tones. Joe had an obvious look of concern on his face, punctuated by his slamming glasses on the counter. Duncan was slightly better at hiding his feelings, but there was definitely something going on. Jarod turned to look at the sound of the opening door and saw a man in a trenchcoat he hadn’t seen before. Jarod sauntered over to the bar.
“Help yourself, Jarod,” Joe didn’t even look up from MacLeod and the new trench coat wearer.
Jarod walked around the counter and listened carefully as he poured himself a gin and cranberry juice, minus the gin. Then he heard the one word that could turn his blood cold. “The Centre.” He nearly sputtered on his drink, but was able to keep himself under control. “As in Blue Cove, Delaware?” he popped a piece of PEZ into his mouth.
All three of the men stared at him. Methos looked up from his beer. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the man behind the bar. He looked over at Duncan, who had already started to speak.
“… you know about The Centre, Jarod? Do you know anything about the abduction of Gavin Scott.”
“Let’s just say that I was a guest at the Centre for a number of years, and I had really bad service. I don’t plan on returning” Jarod stared into Methos’ eyes.
In an instant, Methos had hopped over the bar and slammed his arm into Jarod’s throat while pulling on his shirt with his hand, choking the man with it. “You know how to get in,” Methos hissed, then let up on the tension so Jarod could talk. Jarod coughed. He considered putting a hold back on this man, but he saw the pain in his eyes. This…Gavin must be like family, and family meant a lot to Jarod. “Yes,” he stated. Methos leaned in towards Jarod and sighed. It was a sigh too heavy for a man his age, Jarod thought. But the eyes told a different story than the rest of the man’s put-together body. “Let’s go in the back room.” The man went directly back as if he expected Jarod to follow. Jarod followed. “I’m Jarod,” he said, upon entering the small room used for book keeping and such.
“Adam.” Adam paced back and forth. “They have a friend of mine at this Centre. His name is Gavin Scott, and he has…well, he has particular abilities that can’t be easily explained. He is…like me.” Jarod watched as the man held out his hand, and grabbed an envelope opener from the desk. He sliced his hand open. Jarod stepped forward to tend to the mans hand, but when he had it firmly laying palm up on his, the bleeding had stopped. Adam wiped the blood off on a coat hanging on the back of the desk chair. “Did that hurt?” Jarod questioned.
“Yes,” Adam raised an eyebrow.
“Uh-oh,” Jarod bit on his lower lip. He looked up at Adam and answered his unspoken question. “I know what they’re capable of. We need to get your friend out of there now.”