HLFIC-L Gathering Friday (Part 1 of 1) =========================================================================== Date: Thu, 4 Apr 1996 11:08:41 -0800 From: Joanne Curme Subject: WAR: Finale, Part 1 "A good many dramatic situations begin with screaming." -- Jane Fonda (as Barbarella) Title: Finale Part 1 Author: Joanne Curme, Rob Distante When: after midnight Where : Chuck E Cheese Rob and Joanne had a little trouble making their way over to the karaoke machine. The restaurant had been utterly taken over by flagwavers, factions, and their furry friends. All of the real employees had run off to the mall, except for one waitress who was doing the work of five, trying to make up for the lack of staff. "Oh no!", Joanne said under her breath. "Here she comes again!" The waitress waved to Rob from behind a crowd of very short women and within moments was handing him a purple paper plate plastered with puce paste. "What *is* that?", Joanne asked, gagging at the sight. "It's what the gentleman ordered," she stated matter-of-factly. "*I* didn't order anything, and certainly nothing like that," Rob said, staring at the thoroughly unappetizing dish in front of them. "Yes you did," the waitress insisted. "I asked you what you wanted, and you distinctly said 'All I want is whirled peas'." --------------------------------------------------- There was a scream and the sound of gunfire. From all directions, from all entrances, appeared the Horton clones. Everyone in the restaurant turned in shock at the commotion, dropping various swords, flags, scripts, batons, books, pencils, tokens, slices of pizza, and empty IV bottles of Pepsi. "Horton!" they all shouted in surprise. "But how?" a deep voice yelled. "We were told he's in Hell! This is discontinuity! Wendy, make them stop!" "I can't do anything right now!" she called, picking up her book and frantically searching for her baton. "I lost my place and they're not posting in order! D****t, read the War FAQ!" Rob waved his hands for attention as the Hortons started closing in on the crowd. "They're all clones, part of a scheme Horton created to make the perfect Hunters," he shouted. "Waitaminnit!" someone else shouted from the back. "If they're clones, how come they don't all look alike?" Joanne and Rob were also puzzled. Some looked like Horton, others didn't. In fact, one looked like a mime -- no, like a French soldier; and another looked like an Irish Revolutionary -- or was he a police officer -- no, an art dealer! This looked like the annual meeting of the Vancouver Society for Extras. "I found another YAHOO!" the voice from the back yelled louder. "Are you that uppity newbie?" the first one shouted back. Then a muffled *thwap* was heard, followed by a dazed voice mumbling "Mmmmm...chocolate..." One of the Hortons stepped forward, a dark haired one with a mustache. "Well... You might recognize me from a scene that was used in a couple of different episodes. I did this stunt falling from a building... " "Tell us something we DON'T know!" shouted a female voice. "You were a soldier once, and a flower vendor, too!" He beamed. "Yes, I was! Anyway, TPTB decided that if you can have the same actor play different roles, why can't you have different actors play the same role? So - we're all Hortons!" he said, grabbing and hugging two other male extras. "But we're supposed to be identical, OK?" "Whare do you keep ze wine in thees place?" said one that looked suspiciously like Maurice. A negro Horton whacked him. "Wrong character!" ---------------------------------------------------- Grandfather Wu, who had remained seated during the break-in, quietly replaced his Chuck E Cheese head. He had a dastardly plan to cause a *major* distraction. Of course, it might make matters much much worse, but *somebody* had to do something, and obviously Rob was no use since he'd missed that bullet-catching course. Carefully he picked up the Short Haired Brazilian wombat, which Rob had left on the table in his hurry to get to the karaoke machine. The little critter made no fuss; his tummy was full of anchovy calzone and he just made little growling noises as Wu put the one remaining gargantuan, newly refilled soda on a chair by the table. He was very concerned over what he was about to do; he'd heard real horror stories about people who broke the rules for these animals' care and feeding. "Sorry, little Giz . . , uh, guy," he whispered, dropping him into the carbonated drink. *plop* *plop* *fizz* *fizz* The soda bubbled furiously as Grandfather Wu pushed the seat under the table to hide the incredible scene unfolding within the container... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * A soft rumbling filled the restaurant as the ground began to hop up and down gently. The noise grew louder, shaking the chair out from under the table. Soda splashed higher and higher as squeals of fear from the (normal -hah!) wombats pierced the air. Wu tried to back away from the cup, which seemed to have developed a life of its own, but his way was blocked by a stray caber someone had tossed in the initial frenzy. The wombats -- filled with terror, yet called by their deepest instincts -- had gathered around Grandfather Wu's table and were watching the soda cup with a mixture of horror and anticipation. With one great, final jolt, the soda cup leapt up to the table top and landed upside down. The rumbling stopped. The floor became still. The wombats, and everyone else in the restaurant, stood paralyzed with fear, staring at Grandfather Wu's table and the soda cup that now stood inverted in the middle of a brown, carbonated puddle. You could have pierced the silence with a bobby pin and a little spit. Then, from under the cup, the most evil growl he had ever heard made Wu turn even whiter than he was. Not knowing why but unable to stop himself, he reached a trembling hand toward the cup and, after pausing a moment, knocked it away with one furious blow. The (real) wombats screamed in outrage as Pepsi flew everywhere. Pandemonium ensued as the crowd stampeded. Several of the more sensitive guys began to weep. "Awwwww," Joanne said, coming forward and plucking the critter out of the mess on the table, "his fur's all wet. He's shaking." She picked him up and began to wipe off the soda with a napkin. The (real) wombats, calmer now that the minor earthquake had subsided, vented their fury on Grandfather Wu. "That was REAL Pepsi!" Doc squeaked in outrage. "How could you just WASTE it like that?? Don't you know how VALUABLE that stuff is?" Rose was beside herself. No, that was Bob, the aardvark. Covered in white dust from the ceiling tiles, it was hard to tell them apart. "Ma said we ran out half an hour ago! She made us leave the machine! MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!" Rose ran off to find Ma, leaving a distraught Doc standing next to Bob. , Doc thought, looking Bob up and down, He was rapidly becoming distracted by different kinds of tremors. Nice tremors. Looking Bob over, Doc sidled up to her and quickly thought of something romantic, witty and alluring to whisper in her ear. "So... come here often?" -------------------------------------------------- to be concluded... -- Joanne (jcurme@pyramid.com) K'immie Brigade Leader for the First HL Gathering =========================================================================== Date: Thu, 4 Apr 1996 21:55:49 -0800 From: Joanne Curme Subject: WAR:Finale Part 2 (new & improved) The most beautiful things are those which madness prompts and reason writes. -- Andre Gide Title: Finale, Part 2 Author: Joanee Curme, Rob Distante, Taylor Nelson When: Late Thursday Night/Very Early Friday Morning Where: West Seacouver Chuck E Cheese The commotion over the Short Haired Brazilian Wombat escapade had died down; he was wet, miserable, and had a tummyache, but he'd survive. It all ended with Ma Wombat being chased by Rose into the kitchen squeaking "Mother knows best!" and Grandfather Wu sneaking out the back door, trying to look inconspicuous in his splattered Chuck E Cheese outfit with the little hole where the tail used to be. One of the Hortons saw Joanne edging toward the laserdisk karaoke player with the CD in her hand and pointed a gun at her. "You! Give that to me!" Rob stepped between the man and his target. "Put the gun down." "Get out of my way . . . " the Horton sneered. Rob stared at the man coldly. "Don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry." Two musclebound Hortons approached as Joanne slipped the CD into the player and whispered, "It's ready, Rob. Be careful of those extras." Rob smiled at her. "Don't worry - I have a plan." She hit PLAY and for a moment, time stood still... -------------------------------------------------- The huge screen on one wall flickered bright blue and then faded into white. A fuzzy image appeared and as it slowly came into focus, the crowd gasped and there was total silence, except for the three really sensitive guys who were still dabbing at their eyes and sniffling. It was Duncan and Methos standing in a field of white, grinning ear to ear. They were dressed in brown polyester bellbottoms and flowered shirts. On their feet were six inch clogs coated in glitter. They were wearing John Lennon sunglasses and wooden peace signs hung on long leather thongs around their necks. "Oh, no . . ." Sean whispered. "Not this." The two Immortals started to sway as a guitar twanged the first chords of a song. The damning words came through the speakers and settled on the restless crowd. "They say we're young and we don't know..." "DUNCAN!" Sandy shrieked. "What on EARTH is this?" Several people were violently sickened by the sight. Enmare lost her lunch. , she thought, rooting through the Backpack of the Black Hole, Duncan stared at the screen, his mouth hanging open and a look of horror crossing his face. "No . . . no . . . it was a dream . . . " "More like a nightmare." Falcon stood in front of him with a wary look in her eyes. The music played on. "They say our love won't pay the rent . . ." Duncan was mesmerized by the video image. The camera zoomed in and out, tilting from side to side. Closeups of his face were interspersed with psychedelic images of melting flowers and free-form blobs of color. As they did The Swim, he and Methos were lip-synching the song perfectly. "Babe." "I got you babe." "I got you babe." "I got you babe. Unbelieving, Duncan shot a glance around the room for Methos but the PGSs had dragged him away long ago. His gaze fell upon Falcon and his eyes begged her for support, but she regarded him coldly. He was drawn back to the video screen, where he and Methos were doing The Crawl against a background of yellow and green splashes of light. "I got you to walk with me." "Please -- I can explain! Anne had just left me and Horton was -- " "I got you to talk with me." "Sandy! Listen to me! Adam and I got drunk one night in Paris and -- " "I got you to understand." "Sean! Don't! This is -- there was this video store and we went in -- " "I got you to hold my hand." "It was all a blur -- we barely remembered it the next day -- " "I got you to hold me tight." "They gave it to us on CD -- Adam kept it -- " "I got you to kiss goodnight." "He must have forgot and used it to back up the Watcher database -- " "I gooo -- oooot you, baaaaa -- aaaaaabe." "NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" --------------------------------------------------- Above the shouting and screaming a Horton clone's voice range clear. "THIS! This is what the Hunters are here to stop! Only hundreds of years of EVIL could come up with something as incredibly horrifying as THIS! This is proof! They must be eliminated! It will happen again and again!" As the other Hortons took up the cry, non-Hortons in the crowd began to join them. "...I respected Methos..." "...I've never seen Duncan like this before..." "...how many *other* secrets do they have?..." The murmurs grew louder. The crowd was falling into a mob mentality and it was getting out of control. Amanda put her hands over her eyes and shook her head, then grabbed her little black bag and moved away from Duncan. Rob smiled to himself, knowing Amanda would soon be leaving Seacouver again. Joanne went over to comfort Duncan as the DFW's stood there in shock, watching the travesty on the Watcher CD replay itself. "Looks like your social calendar has cleared, studmuffin. How's Saturday night sound?" Joanne and Rob met up again as the Hortons trolled for a stronger reaction. "This is *definitely* off-topic. Where's Reverend Douglass and the whip? Or do we need to handle this mess ourselves?" In unison they yelled, "ADMIN!" Nothing happened. Rob thought for a moment, then said "Are you pondering what I'm pondering, Joanne?" "I think so, Rob. If one person can be in two places at the same time, can two of that person be in one place at the same time?" Rob grinned. "Let's try it out." Rob had his back turned to one Horton and stepped backwards, scrunching the clone's toes with his heel. The large musclebound Horton cringed in pain as Rob reached behind and grabbed the big guy's bull-like neck with both hands. Bending at the knees, Rob flipped Horton A over his shoulder directly into Horton A(prime). Everybody screamed as the two bodies collided. After a spectacular light and sound show that totally cleaned out the rest of the Highlander War special effects budget (what was left after all the gratuitous morphing by the wombats, that is; :-( thanks, guys, please clear it with Accounting next time, OK?), all that was left of the two extras was a little wisp of smoke and Enmare, staring at her notebook in indignation and surprise. "Two of the same bodies cannot occupy the same space at the same time!" Rob yelled. "Crash the Hortons together!" The special effects (small as they were, thanks again to the 'bats) had shaken everyone out of their temporary insanity. Duncan, eager to draw the attention away from the Watcher CD, picked up a medium-sized Horton with dreadlocks and flung him into an Asian Horton holding a submachine gun. There were no fireworks this time (grrrrr...) but the two Hortons did, indeed, both vanish into another wisp of smoke with a tiny *pop*. The rest of the DFWs began grabbing Hortons and throwing them together. Some of the shorter members worked in teams. Within minutes, all the Hortons that had been too slow to run to the exits were nothing but bad memories and foul-smelling puffs of smoke that soon dissipated. Duncan stood in the center of a large group of adoring mortals, smiling, his masculine pride and ego restored by the fawning adorations of the swooning females and grateful men. "I think I'm going to be sick," Rob muttered. "He *is* the star," Joanne said. "After all, it's not an ensemble show. Everyone else is just a recurring character. He has to get all the credit. I just wish they could have given Richie a better part in this scene; they didn't even bother to write him in. I mean, why can't he rescue Duncan for once? And Methos! That guy cut out before the Hortons even got here." "Yeah," Rob agreed, "so much for the cavalry. Hmmm . . . the cavalry . . . the Colonel's Cavalry . . . that makes him the Colonel . . . Colonel Sanders! No wonder they ran! They're all a bunch of chickens!" He started making Monty Python sounds and waving his arms. "Run away! Run away!" Joanne rolled her eyes and gazed upward. "How long?" she sighed quietly. -------------------------------------------------- People were filing out of the restaurant as Rob and Joanne stood by the door, saying goodbye to their new friends. "It's kind of sad," Joanne said. "We just go to know each other and now it's over. I'll miss them all." "Me too," Rob said. "But I wouldn't give up these six days for anything, even though I feel like I've aged two and a half weeks." "It was all like a dream. There was Duncan, who looked just like you, Uncle Bill was a guy named Joe -- and Auntie M, we called you Alexis! And there was the Tin Man, and . . . " Rob shook Joanne gently by the shoulder. . He thought for a moment. "Even though I've given up two and a half weeks' salary at the dojo, at least it's still mine. My other friends weren't so lucky," he said, remembering his two friends who had sold their businesses to Horton and had seen them go bankrupt within months. "Well, maybe we can do something about that," Joanne mused. "I've still got all the account numbers you memorized from the Hunter database and a couple of friends that owe me *big* favors . . . " Rob's eyebrows leapt, danced around, and settled back into their customary positions on his face. "You mean..." "Sure, why not? The money's all there, just waiting. It might as well go toward a good cause. I'll make a few phone calls when we get back to the hotel and see what they can do. If *we* don't take the money - the ferrets will only channel it to the weasels anyway." "Better us than them! And there'll be more than enough to get my friends back into business. That's a great idea. Thanks!" "Hey, I've got plans for it too! Tay and Carol Ann are planning to elope tomorrow. They could use a couple of tickets to Reno and a honeymoon in Yosemite." "Excellent! I know a great Elvis impersonator in Tahoe that can marry them . . . " She sighed. "I'm going nomail for a week. If I ever spend 14 hours in front of a terminal again, thwap me." "With pleasure . . . I mean, whatever you say, boss." Joanne and Rob walked off from the H * U * * * * * H * E * E *, as the sign now read, ignoring the devastation that surrounded them. "What we gonna do tomorrow night, Rob?" "The same thing we do every night, Joanne -- try to take over the world!" They laughed as they walked off into the darkness. "So did we win, or what?" -------------------------------------------------- Kenny stared at the deserted restaurant. "I *know* I set the timer right," he muttered viciously. He crossed the empty street and pried open the front door. His footsteps echoed in the dark kitchen as he climbed up into the air vent. He'd left the ACME suitcase in the middle of the main air shaft, right over a grille . . . ah, there it was, just a few feet ahead of . . . K A B O O M -------------------------------------------------- th-th-th-th-that's all, folks. This has been a public service of the K'immie Brigade: Joanne Curme Rob Distante Taylor Nelson -------------------------------------------------------- We would like to thank all the little people who helped make this possib-- Ouch! Ow! Hey, you bit my ankle! Knock it off! All right! Sheesh, what some people won't -- AAAAAAAAAAHHH . . . =========================================================================== Date: Sun, 31 Mar 1996 12:33:07 -0500 From: Jill Marie Spetoskey Subject: War: Hello, I must be going Title: Hello, I must be going Author: Jill Marie Spetoskey When: Friday Morning, the crack of dawn. Where: Jill's hotel "Ring....Ring" Jill fumbled for the phone that insisted on keeping ringing. She'd gotten far too little sleep lately with all that had been going on. "Mmmmpf...Hello, Jill here. What do you need now?" "Ms. Spetoskey? I'm Sonya Page from the City of Seacouver personel department." "I thought you were on strike." "We've resolved things. , Anyways, can you come at 8 this morning for your interview?" "Sure." Jill rolled back over, groaning. She struggled through a shower and dressed in her interview clothes and made her way to City Hall. The interview went well. Page was on crutches, and mumbled something about weasel bites when Jill asked. The two hit off immediately, and Jill was offered a job on the spot. (This is fantasy after all) "Oh, and by the way, here's your plane ticket back to Ann Arbor. Your flight leaves in two hours. We'll see you back in a few weeks, then." "Okay." Jill went back to the hotel and hastily packed. She called over to Joe's and left a message that she was heading back to Michigan, but would be back in town in a few weeks if he needed help at the bar again. Then, she went to the airport and headed home. (I really am interviewing right now, and I have been unable to keep up with things. I had a blast, though!! -Jill) Jill Marie jilkey@umich.edu =========================================================================== Date: Sun, 31 Mar 1996 18:32:39 -0500 From: "Jimmy Murphy @ GA Southern University" Subject: WAR: I Wanna Go Home Title: I Wanna Go Home Author: Jimmy Murphy When: early morning through afternoon Where: Rm. 124, Community General Hospital Jimmy was lying in a decidedly unnatural state when Anne awakened. He was in one of those infamously uncomfortable hospital chairs, trying to sleep with his arms crossed. Anne was in bed, staring and wondering just how he managed to keep from falling to the floor. She felt physically better, though the sight of IV's in both of her arms reminded her that she could not be so painless if she made a false move. "Two IV's?" Anne thought to herself. "The anaphylaxis wasn't *that* bad!" Anne knew that her allergic reaction was from, of all things, those biscuits from the afternoon before. "Well, I guess the ER staff now knows what the 'secret ingredient' is," she said to herself. Pushing the "nurse call" button got no response, which was rather ironic considering a personal friend was on the other end of this button. When Nurse Robin came in, she caused Jimmy to wake up rather suddenly. Picking himself up off the hard floor, he saw that the attractive redheaded nurse was grinning. "Hi," he said, blushing uncontrollably. "He has a thing for redheads..." Anne said. After Anne ate breakfast and banished a killer case of "bed head", Jimmy told her about how Horton was no longer a problem and that Joe had his Chronicle back. She did not really react to the news as he had thought she would. her first response was to tell him how foolish he was. "That guy could have killed you! Why on Earth would you do that?" Jimmy could only reply, sheepishly, that it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. This was not the guy she remembered from two years before; what was *up* with him? Marie brought Mary for a visit, and while Mary got her lunch from mommy (probably much more enjoyable than what Anne had had), Jimmy explored the hospital corridors. Marie called her old friend, Linda Wyatt, to join in on the visit-time; Linda and Marie knew each other from 'the old days' (but don't call it that around them!) and this was the first opportunity the three women had had a chance to see one another. Since Linda was concerned about Anne's feeding times with Mary, she had brought Anne a pump to allow Mary "take out food" for when Marie took Mary home."Very thoughtful," Anne said, but reminded Marie that she expected to be 'sprung' by 4pm. "I'm sorry I was not able to come to the Christening party," Linda said later. "I was at a conference for the League. I hope I didn't miss anything eventful?" Marie and Anne nearly cracked down the middle. Anne wanted to keep the events of the night before, at least in regards to Horton and Jimmy's 'Wyatt Earp impersonation', away from Marie and Donna, since things were already peculiar enough. Once Marie had gone home with Mary (and with a promise that Anne would be home by nightfall), Anne continued to quiz Jimmy about the events at Joe's. "This friend of yours..the one who shot you. Did you two wear bulletproof vests or something?" Jimmy wished he had; those paintballs were quite painful at close range. "I had the fake Chronicle in my coat, so I could not add any more bulk." "It's a good thing no one turned me over," Jimmy said, in an effort to lighten the mood. Enmare shot me with a pellet that turned me *green*!" After a few more rounds of "Are you nuts?!" and "I guess so" between the two, Anne said that she could not have her baby's father running around drawing the fire of international criminals. Jimmy just smiled and lowered his head a bit. "In your own way, I need you to be there for her. Marie and you took that oath seriously at the church, and I'm going to hold you to it!" Jimmy knew that she did not mean she wanted him to actually, physically *be there*, but that he should try not to be target practice for every nutcase who comes to Seacouver. Anne had long since recognized that she did not want Jimmy as a regular fixture in *her* life, but that Mary needed to know she had someone to turn to if she had to. Anne soon returned to her gentle chiding about Jimmy and Horton. "You're okay...that's all that matters. Robin told me that you came racing in here thinking I had been poisoned!" "That's what the ex-bartender at Joe's told me. What was I supposed to think?" Anne thought a moment. "Mike? *Ex* bartender? Did he get..." she knew Mike well (or thought she had), and thought that perhaps he had been hurt in 'The Gunfight at SJD Corral'. "Oh, he was not at all what they thought," Jimmy said. "He turned out to be working with Horton and his Hunters gang. He was the one we needed to flush out at the bar." Jimmy told Anne how he had accidentally run up on evidence that Mike had purchased a tranquilizer/stun gun. The receipt from "Hinckley's Weapons and Ammo" had been circumstantial, but Joe was the one who put it all together while they sat in the hospital waiting room. "The man is really ticked. He does not know how he is going to find a new bartender." Anne laughed a bit, then asked if it was 4pm already. Indeed, it was already 'checkout time'. ****Thanks to Linda Wyatt, Donna Griffon and Marie Chang for their contribtions to the medical information depicted in this story. =========================================================================== Date: Wed, 3 Apr 1996 23:59:56 -0400 From: Doc Anvil Subject: War: Distribution of wealth Title: Jo' utat ki'va'nok {Hungarian: "I wish you a good trip", with mangled accent marks} Author: Enmare When: 8 AM Where: In a Diner The amazing thing about Seacouver is that it's always clean, which of course makes it hard to find an authentic greasy spoon. This retro diner was the best Enmare could find. She was pouring over the maps so she could drive back to New York using the states with the highest speed limits (Montana, therefore, was a must). If she timed it just right, she'd be back in the dorm for the Muppets and Homicide that evening. -Hey, if I don't miss it for my own boyfriend, there's no way I'll let traffic laws get in my way.- Finishing the (weak and bitter) cup of coffee, Enmare pulled out her cell phone and made some final arrangements. First, she sent off the recipe for her grandmother's marshmallow pies to the wombats. Enmare grinned and made arrangements for a large, fat, drooling, friendly, talkative Siamese cat to be delivered to every single DFW. The breeder would take them back after a few days "test drive", if the DFWs didn't appreciate it. To the Kimmie brigade, she mailed off a copy of her textbook on Temporal Prepositional Calculus (the topic after Modal Calculus in her logic course). She hadn't opened her own yet, not having gotten over the headache from trying to determine logical necessity over the set of relative worlds... Enmare shuddered. One more thing... Enmare transfered most of the remaining money in her Swiss account to Lori, Karen and Joe; after all, they were supposed to head out to NYC soon, if they hadn't already. Enmare stood up and jingled the keys to the car out front. "Come *on*," she said, pulling "Pete" Horton out of the diner and away from this waitress he was talking to that looked a bit like an actress on some primetime show her parents used to watch... In the car, he asked again "Why am I going with you?" "Because after all the mistaken identity and Horton stuff here, you deserve some sort of vacation. I could just leave you here; after all, I had enough trouble finding you after Monday and all." Enmare started the car. "Besides, you'll like central New York. It's a little less rainy than here." Out on the road and hurtling back home, Enmare turned to him again. "Say, you wouldn't happen to know anything about Hungarian phonology, would you?" -Enmare kmb19@cornell.edu Linguistics student w/o a plan Hortonite, JFW, and Perkulator in favor of an Owen/Macbeth dualistic universe =========================================================================== Date: Wed, 3 Apr 1996 18:00:34 -0500 From: "Jimmy Murphy @ GA Southern University" Subject: WAR: Lovers and Friends ***I know this post is backtracking a bit, but just insert it in the action the day after "The Sting". JM Title: Lovers and Friends Author: Jimmy Murphy When: morning to noon Where: Downtown S/C, later to Joe's, just before he leaves for NYC "Don't you have anything constructive to add?" Marie asked jokingly to the passenger in her car. Marie had been talking for several minutes about the beautiful teddy bear and sheets set that she had bought, and how beautifully they would match Mary's nursery quilt. She glanced over and saw...drool. Mary, sitting in her new, Swedish car seat, looked as though she had been strapped in for a flight on the Space Shuttle. Marie tilted her head a bit and reached over to wipe Mary's face with a napkin. Marie had taken Mary out for the day to give Donna a chance to finish cleaning up the...*debris* from the reception, and for Marie and Mary to have some woman-to-woman conversations such as this one. What was supposed to be a day of errands for the ailing Anne had changed into a take-no-prisoners shopping trip, complete with a new car seat from a boutique downtown, various toys and teddy bears....and the chance for Marie to show off her goddaughter to the world. "Your mommy works entirely too hard," Marie said to Mary, trying to turn onto the next street. "She has to return to work in four days and she has no nanny to take care of you....I might just have to stay on and do it myself." Oh, just the excuse Marie needed. Marie passed an older-model Ford in traffic and was reminded of the Thunderbird that she had seen Duncan driving at the Christening. "He is your mommy's Prince Charming," Marie mused, thinking of the two times she had met Duncan. The first time, when he was still dating Anne, was quite an impressionable first look; the two of them were magical in their own way. Marie had seen such an intense chemistry between the two of them, which manifested itself in her ability to forgive his often perplexing 'disappearing acts' or unwillingness to tell her even the most simple things about his background. Anne had tolerated a lot more secrets than Marie ever would have; as much as Marie loved her husband, Ivan, she would never have allowed him to be that secretive over such a sustained period of time. But Anne was a very different person. She knew that each person had a different level of trust in regards to other people. She had told Marie that some people just took a little longer to open up...and that Duncan's kind heart showed through despite his occasional secretiveness. "She fell really hard for that man!" Marie told Mary, who was enjoying the view of cars whizzing past. "One minute they are together, the next minute they are broken up, and the next everything is fine. I never told your mommy this," Marie said, smiling across at Mary, "but I always believed that stormy relationships like that are the very ones that never quite end. There was a lot of heartbreak all around, but look what came out of it!" Marie said, releasing one hand from the steering wheel to rub Mary's peach-fuzz head. Marie was in town not just to load her goddaughter down with goodies; she had come to bring Mary to visit mommy in the hospital. Though Anne would be home that afternoon, Mary's appetite was not about to wait another five hours! "Come to think of it," Marie said to Mary, "*my* appetite isn't going to last much longer either. There's nothing like maxing out a mastercard to get my appetite up." Anne had gone through hell during that period when she had believed Duncan was dead, and it had been a great time of distress for Marie, as well. When Anne had told Marie about Duncan's charade, it was tough for Marie to get past the fact that Duncan had lied to Anne for so long. The unfortunate situation had made Anne's friend Jimmy become entangled, as well. It was only after the Christening that Marie saw how Duncan really wanted to make everything up to Anne...for all the lies and the secrets. The Christening had also showed Marie that Jimmy was not a villain in the piece either...he wanted to be more to Anne than Anne wanted at that time. Jimmy was never a viable alternative to Duncan; Anne had relied on him for support during the months she believed Duncan to be dead, but she was always in *love* with Duncan. "From the looks of that dance at the Christening," Marie said to Mary sweetly, "they still have unfinished business, too." Joe's had been open to a sparse crowd, but since Joe himself had had to play bartender, he was glad there had been no rush. When he spotted and spoke to Marie, he was pleased to hear that Anne was going to be alright. He had not been able to get to the hospital to visit because he had so many repairs to supervise after the crazy night before; only now had the concrete slab dried in the back room, and the green paint been removed that had splattered on the floor. Marie knew that she need not make small talk with this man; he could tell that she was not there for the peanuts. Anyone who knows Marie, knows that she doesn't do small talk anyway. "You want to know about Anne and MacLeod, don't you?" he asked. She smiled. "I worry for her. She says all is okay, but I have to wonder if he is not going to hurt her again." Joe shook his head vigorously. "Nah, MacLeod would never do that. He's a stand-up kind of guy...he'd do whatever it takes to make sure she and Mary are safe. She's a helluva woman, you know? She is really good for him. He'd go to hell and back for her. "MacLeod has this thing...it's not a fault, really, just a sort of personality quirk. He hasn't really had many women in his life who were *only* friends, y'know what I mean? He's just a 'man's man', I guess they call it. Having the chance to backtrack a bit, to have this period with Anne where they can just be friends and deepen that friendship...I think it is exactly what MacLeod and Anne both need right now." Marie seemed to understand what Dawson was saying, although she wished he was a little more forthcoming with details on what the odds were that MacLeod and Anne might reconcile. It satisfied Marie, however, to hear that Anne had Duncan MacLeod in her life...in whichever capacity made Anne happiest. "May I offer you something to drink?" Joe asked. She had settled on catching a few bites of a sandwich, but did not eat very much since she avoided mayo whenever possible. "Tea? Some juice?" Marie declined, saying that she had to get Mary to her mommy at the hospital. Marie caught wind of Mary's diaper. "Some Renuzit would do about now, though...." she quipped. =========================================================================== Date: Thu, 4 Apr 1996 12:53:05 -0500 From: Kim Bjarkman Subject: WAR: ...And We Like Pizza Title: ...And We Like Pizza Author: Wendy Kelley & Bob J. Aardvark (Ms.) When: around lunchtime Where: West Seacouver STARBUCKS Reason: Rules are there to be broken, and Bob needs more caffeine. Please observe: "Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so." -- Douglas Adams --------------------------------------------- While you were frantically composing your final departure post, I popped round for a double Latte at a Starbucks in West Seacouver. The aardvark didn't like facing up to her... emotions, not without chemical assistance. Wendy actually looked surprised to see me. When, in fact, she did see me. When I arrived, she had a big goofy grin on her face -- causing some tension to brew as several FWs were beginning to wonder if she'd gotten ahold of a copy of the Richie video already -- and she sat thinking about how well the war had gone under her Masterful supervision. I had been there twenty minutes already and was sampling my third flavor of Latte. They did not serve Ribena Latte. I was glad I'd soon be departing from this universe. Selma wondered why the aardvark was drinking coffee, cocoa, er... tea? Ultimately, our... bond had filtered through Wendy's fantasy world, and she noticed me beside her. I was impressed. "How'd you get here?" She studied the still frame of Richie soaping up in her mind as she addressed me. "Same as usual." I indicated the gaping hole in the floor I'd clumb through. "You didn't think I'd spend all this time here and not hit the best coffee joint in Seacouver." I shook my head. Master seemed to be far gone this time. Wendy was thinking about how much she loathed it when I violated P.O.V. rules. Lizbet was wondering when her e-mail problems would be resolved. She fumed at the notion that she was missing the end of the war and had left Wendy with all the control. She wondered if Wendy was plotting another kidnapping for her while she could not be reached to give her consent. Thankfully, Lizbet knew Wendy wouldn't break *that* rule. Wendy was wondering whether Lizbet regretted leaving her in charge. Her smile widened. Lizbet glared at the blank screen of her monitor as....... I read Wendy our horoscope in the Seacouver Exponential. It ended, "Today: Now vanish." She felt sure this meant she would finally break out. Her mind had evidently drifted again. God only knew where her fantasies had carried her. Some island in the South Pacific, I reckoned. Well, I felt fairly certain it had something to do with Adam (Newman) for the moment, but I'm not omniscient, after all. I'm just an aardvark (with no regard for P.O.V. ... rules). I bit Wendy's calf (a trick Doc had taught me) to get her attention. I thought I should point out that the plot hole was still looming, but now it had risen to form a swirling mass of blue light suspended upright in the middle of the room. The customers looked at the aardvark, the shimmering ring of blue, the severed head in the corner by the condiments stand. They carried on drinking, relieved to see all was normal on this beautiful day in the town they called Home. Only little Petey sat whimpering, as he clung to his mother's arm, lamenting the day he had turned six and watched his birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese fall to hell, confirming his worst fears about the world and leaving him emotionally scarred for life. Even Mr. Cheese had made him cry, when Petey had asked for a Pepsi and the giant furry family friend had called him a "sniveling demon child" and told him he'd never, ever be allowed to go to Disney World, as he placed a severed tail in the boy's soda glass. "Hey, Master, I think you should snap back to unreality. What light through yonder plot hole breaks. Yada yada." It didn't matter what I said. Wendy was mesmerized. "No, Richie, I didn't mail all your towels to Paris. Honest." I nipped a little harder. "Looks like your leadership is called for elsewhere." Richie momentarily stopped bathing in Wendy's thoughts, as her eyes met with the watery mass hovering in the air three feet in front of her. "It's... it's... it's the swirly kind!" Wendy knew that this could mean only one thing: a plot hole leading to a parallel reality (the plot holes allowing time travel were always wavy). I sipped nonchalantly from my Latte, contemplating theta and eth. My snout twitched defiantly. "Thistle!" I shouted. God, how I love fur! I began to curse in the International Phonetic Alphabet on my napkin. Master could go this mission alone. Damned if I was going through a plot hole that might land me in a world with Spellbinders... I mean, where there might be more than one Wendy Kelley, and aardvark might be the preferred Lunch Meat. Master arose and raised one arm above her head valiantly. Her entire forearm was still coated in black ink with faded impressions from her recently-acquired Watcher stamp pad; but that aside, she did look very... dignified. "My work here is done. Another list needs me more now." She plunged through the rippling hole to SLFIC. Mary Sue was thinking that she would have made a much grander departure. I watched the plot hole vanish and my Master with it. "Waiter, do you have tea?" --------- This post has been brought to you by the Nonsequitor Society. Complaints may be sent to the following addresses: ladyslvr@expert.cc.purdue.edu, flowper@omni.cc.purdue.edu =========================================================================== Date: Thu, 4 Apr 1996 12:46:51 -0500 From: anonymous Subject: WAR: Keep in touch Title: Keep In Touch Author: Laura Michaels When: Daytime Where: Connor's suite The phone rang in Connor's suite. Polly picked it up. Polly: Hello. Laura: Hi, Polly. You weren't in your room so I was hoping I could reach you in Connor's room. "It's Laura," Polly told Connor, Virginia and Darci. Polly: We were having a nice talk with Connor. Laura: You guys are having all the fun. We're cleaning up Richie's apartment. Polly: Should have stayed with us. Laura: Maybe next time. I'm just happy we're all going home soon and I can get a decent night's sleep in my own bed. Did you need a lift to the airport? I don't know what time I'll be finished cleaning, but I can stop by as soon as we're through here. Polly: No. Darci offered to drive me to the airport on her way home. Laura: Okay, well I guess I should say goodbye. You have to come out to Florida some time. We'll see Epcot and Villa Vizcaya and Sawgrass Mills. Polly: Some time. And if you're ever in Texas again, come by. Laura: I will. I really want to see your horses and dogs. The cats I can do without, Laura thought, but didn't tell her friend. Laura: Tell everyone goodbye for me. Polly: You can tell them. Polly waved Connor over to the phone. Laura: I really don't want to bother them right now. Just tell Connor it was great seeing him and I'm glad everything turned out all right. Connor: It was nice meeting you too, Laura. Laura: Ah, Connor.... Hi.... Well I'm glad everything worked out okay. Guess you're happy to be going home. Connor: I always liked traveling. I did want to thank you for all your help, Laura. I didn't do much, just got Richie to go over, Laura thought. Laura: You're welcome. Uh...you know that antique store, Nash Antiques in New York? Is it any good? Connor: Any good? Laura: Does it have some good pieces? My family's into antiques and we visit New York a lot. Maybe next time we're up there we'll go see it. Connor: Next time you're in New York stop by. And ask for me. I'll warn Rachel. Laura: Great. Well, have a nice trip. Virginia and Darci had grabbed the phone from Connor. Virginia: Bye Laura. Thanks for coming. Darci: Nice meeting you. E-mail me some time and we'll discuss programming and favorite TV shows. Laura: Bye everyone. I'll keep in touch. Virginia: Watch your head. Laura: Always. Polly took back the phone. Polly: It was nice finally meeting you in person. Laura: Nice seeing you too. Hope you don't mind Virginia and me dragging you into this. Polly: No it was fun. And I needed a vacation anyway. I'll e-mail you when I'm back home. Laura: Okay. Looking forward to it. Have a good flight. Polly: You too. Laura: I'll write to you soon. Laura Michaels p004927b@pbfreenet.seflin.lib.fl.us http://members.aol.com/lauram3017/index.html =========================================================================== Date: Fri, 5 Apr 1996 01:09:58 -0500 From: Virginia Foster Subject: WAR: Endings (or is it?) Title: Endings (or is it?) Author: Virginia Foster When: Daytime Where: Lambert Inn, Seacouver. Slowly, the Connor flag wavers had said their goodbyes and left to return home. Darci offered to take Polly to the airport, and Laura had called from Richie's to say goodbye. Virginia sat lounging in a chair in Connor's suite. She wasn't looking at the Immortal or the packed suitcases on the floor. "Well, I guess this is it, isn't it? Everyone else has left. Time to get back to reality." She sighed. Connor could hear the sadness in her voice. In fact, he'd been hearing it from all the flag wavers. They may have been late getting here, but they were a dedicated group. And thankfully not nearly as over whelming as the Duncan or Richie flag wavers. "It doesn't have to be over," Connor said cryptically. She turned to look at him, "What do you mean by that? The war is over. The Chronicle is safe. Horton is gone. You've even found the sword that was stolen from the store in New York. Eventually, I have to get back to Atlanta, and to work." Connor smiled. "I meant just what I said, it does not have to be over. Who says you *have* to go back to Atlanta right now? Wasn't there another flag waver that couldn't make it here? The one from Maine you told me about." "That would be Marty. Poor thing, she was sick and couldn't get out here. I did get an email from her last night. She'll be here next time. And yes, she lives in Maine." Virginia went back to staring out the window. Connor walked over and dropped an envelope in her lap. "What's this?" she asked. Opening the envelope she found two first class airline tickets to Maine. "Connor! What is this? What is going on?" "I thought we could drop by and visit Marty. Since she couldn't fly out here. And it's more or less on the way." He stopped to watch her reaction. "On the way to where?" Virginia asked, grinning now. Just when she thought she had this man figured out, he always managed to surprise her. He handed her another envelope. She opened it to find two more first class airline tickets. Destination of Scotland. "Connor!!" she gasped. "Scotland! ohmigosh, I can't take these." "And why not?" "Cause... Cause... oh I don't know! I don't know what to say." "It's just a short vacation. I thought you'd finally like to see where it all began. Glenfinnan, the shores of Loch Shiel." Connor moved closer to kiss her and could tell by the look on her face, that the decision had been made. "When do we leave?" she asked. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------- Thanks folks!! It's been great fun!! Virginia Chief, Connor faction "It's a kind of magic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Virginia Foster ***** vfoster@mindspring.com Flag waver for Connor MacLeod / Christopher Lambert ("Same clan, different vintage" / "Dare to Dream ") =========================================================================== Date: Mon, 1 Apr 1996 14:09:59 -0500 From: "Jimmy Murphy @ GA Southern University" Subject: WAR: Coming Home Title: Coming Home Author: Jimmy Murphy When: late afternoon Where: Anne's house Marie was hurriedly gathering the clothing she had put on the clothesline. Donna was rocking Mary on the deck. Mr. and Mrs. Taylor were hurriedly hopping into the Bekins truck. "Good bye to these crazy people," Mrs. Taylor said as she pulled the passenger door shut. As Mr. Taylor cranked up the loaded truck, he waved quickly at the realtor who was standing on their lawn. "Goodbye," she said, aware that they were paying her no attention as they prepared to depart Countdown Lane forever. As if on cue, Jimmy drove up, Anne sitting on the car's passenger side. Everyone greeted Anne, who insisted that she was no invalid; "Give me that little girl of mine and I will be just fine." She looked at the truck that was heading out of the Taylors' driveway. "Oh, no...how am I going to find a new nanny?" Mrs. Taylor, meanwhile was looking at her watch. "Yes, when we get to Tim's house, we can kiss Jill and those grandsons and get used to a normal life in sitcomland. This action/adventure neighborhood really is too much for us." Jimmy attempted to take four flower arrangements and Anne's suitcase all at once, but Donna wisely grabbed the roses before Jimmy could drop them. "Hideously expensive...." Donna thought as her nose brushed one of the rosebuds. She saw the card and smiled. "Yep, just what I thought." Marie placed Mary in Anne's arms. The reunion was certainly a mutual admiration society. "She really wanted her mommy," Marie said, selling short her *own* ample abilities to get Mary quieted down while "mommy" was away. Anne had seen Mary once already that day (to keep Mary's feedings regular), but being home with her baby made Anne much happier. It had been their first (hopefully last) night apart, and separation anxiety definitely works both ways. "Everything looks perfect! Even the holes in the turf..." Anne said, surveying the landscaping of the house. Marie had made sure that all the property, inside and out, looked pristine for Anne's return. Marie and Donna had joined forces to make sure that no traces of the mayhem of the Christening reception remained, especially that stained rug. Donna had told the landscaper that there 'would be an extra fifty in it' if he could paint over that crack in the patio where Kenny's head had landed. Jimmy was still trying to play nurse-maid, which did not go over very well at all with Anne; she felt fine and said so...often. "Joe and some of his friends invited us to go out," Donna said, which sounded like fun. Given the last few days, some good clean fun sounded good. Anne was game for anything, despite concerns from the others that she was ready to go out. "Where to? A jazz club?" Collective groan. "Chuck E. Cheese's?" she asked, thinking she had made a joke. "How'd you know??" Marie asked. "I don't think so," Anne replied. "Those robotic monsters would scare Mary to death...and I don't feel like eating pizza." "I stopped taking the girls there long ago...those bear bands give me and Ivan the creeps," Marie agreed, "but it was nice of them to invite us." "They have more than just pizza....and they have pinball!" Jimmy said, sounding vaguely adolescent. The women gave him a Joan-Riversish "Grow up!" look. Donna said that Anne should just kick up at the house tonight; if she felt up to it, they would all go to Joe's the next night. "They might even have pinball," Donna said, teasing Jimmy. =========================================================================== Date: Thu, 4 Apr 1996 22:44:27 -0600 From: Laura Ruggiero Subject: War: Packing up Title: Packing up Author: Laura Ruggiero When: Friday, March 23, 1996 (Late afternoon) Where: Four Seasons Hotel, Seacouver The frazzled young woman was running around all over the bar flipping though a large notebook. She could be seen going up to a person and say, "No you can't be here now, your post clearly said you don't arrive until Tuesday." "Hey, you said we could change the dates on the posts", said the person in question. "But you HAVE TO TELL ME, don't you ever check the timeline I've worked so hard on?" She then turned to another group and say, " And you are supposed to be across town by now. " Then she announced to no one in particular, " when will you people learn to put clear dates and times at the top of your posts? " At this point she just started mumbling about, " people who can't be bothered to check the list archives before they repost a story?" and wandered off with a dazed look on her face. "AHHHHHHH" Laura woke up from her nap. She quickly got dressed and left her room, and walked directly into a housekeeping cart. "ooph," she said. Looking around she saw several carts and members of the housekeeping staff on the MFW's floor, they were clearly doing more than just the daily cleaning. She asked one, "Where is everyone? They can't have gone already." "Oh, good, one of you is still here. Everyone else in your group has checked out. We decided to start collecting all the items your group has left behind in the room with all the computer equipment" Said the maid. "They would leave the cleanup to me, wouldn't they. They just left without even telling me, or offering to help," Laura muttered as she headed down the hall to start packing up all her brother's equipment. ------------------------------------------- Several hours later, with the equipment (and all the forgetten items) safely packed and labeled, Laura headed to dinner. As the elevator door opened, Laura was pleasantly surprised to see she hadn't been abandoned by everyone, Methos was still here. :-) Laura smiled broadly and said, "Adam, you are still here, your stuff and everone else's is gone, I thought I ( and the rest of the MFW's plans) had been forgotten." "I realised you did not make it to the airport with everyone else, and I wanted to make sure you were okay, " Methos said, "besides I realized I had forgotten my journal." "Housekeeping found it, it's back in my room. Say, I was just going to dinner, you want to join me?" Laura innocently asked. "Sure," said Methos ------------------------------------------- Laura and Methos enjoyed a long and private dinner. They discussed history, archaeology, the Arthurian legend, how much truth can be found in such legends, and several other topics. Finally they left, and headed back upstairs. Laura was beginning to entertain all sorts of ideas about what they could do once they got there, beyond merely returning Methos' journal. Just then, a familiar sight walked into view. It was Alexa. It quickly became appearent that Methos wanted to talk to her and she wanted to talk to him. Laura sighed, and left them talking. She was depressed, but then she smiled, remembering she did still have Methos' current journal. she thought, as she went upstairs to pack her clothes and arrange for all the boxes to be sent to the appropriate people. When she was done, she checked out and , with her bags in the car, she began the drive back back to Seattle to see her brother, his wife, her adorable niece. As she drove off, reading back into reality, she thought, This war, however, was ended for her. It's been fun everyone. See you in the next (FK or HL) WAR, Laura larug@siu.edu =========================================================================== Date: Sun, 24 Mar 1996 22:42:46 -0500 From: Susan Gilbert Subject: Re: WAR: Sue's alter ego plots some more... Title: Sue's alter ego continues to ponder eternity. Author: Susan Gilbert Where: Arkansas When: Late Sunday night ...that katana space problem is really proving to be elusive. I finally got my socks back but now Thomas has diappeared and I haven't seen the cat for days. Thomas is 2 and a bit and you know how curious toddlers can be. I wonder if he climbed inside the old trench coat? Hmmm, I'll just have to keep looking, although if I don't find him for a while I could get a few hours uninterupted sleep..... ...glad I dropped the idea of a cold shower. I just discovered my in-laws jacuzzi. Boy was it wonderful soaking in all that bubbling hot water dreaming of the Evil one. I think I'm beginning to understand where he might have gone. After all that evil-doing a soak in a mystic hot tub could really make you chill out and get very mellow and laid back. Perhaps all that's needed is for Dunkie to take a really, really, cold shower and that would shock evil Ducan back into existence? I'm going to have to run some computer simulations to see if there's anything to this theory. Can't do that though until I get back to Minnesota where my real equipment is. Drat and double drat. Oh well I'll just have to satisfy myself with some theorectical calculations and dreams of an evil Duncan returning to my world. Wonder how grateful he'll be? Whatever could he do to thank me.... I'm sure I'll think of something!!!!! Sue's alter ego gilberts@cda.mrs.umn.edu (I just love the chance to be sooooo wicked........again.) =========================================================================== Date: Fri, 5 Apr 1996 10:04:46 EST From: Joan Mann Subject: WAR: Ba-bye Title: Ba-bye Author: Joan Mann When: Friday Where: On a plane First class section this time, not coach. Only a few more hours to Logan Airport. Joan relaxed in the spacious seat and looked as the Seacouver faded into the background. She looked at the menu: spam spam sausage and spam; spam eggs spam and spam; spam spam spam and spam. Joan beckoned to the stewardess, "Diet Pepsi please," she said, "a 2-litre bottle. " "And give me some of those lavender peeps to go with it." -------------------------------------------------- It had been one hell of a vacation but it was time to return to real life. But she wouldn't have missed it for the world. She had made a lot of new friends in the last couple of weeks (although some of their names were a bit fuzzy, due, no doubt, to the amount of liquor she had poured into her body), had met a fascinating man, and did some things she could never had imagined doing. Methos had come into her room while she was packing. "Ready to tie some more sheets together?" she teased."Well, he said, "I can think of something infinitely more interesting to do with sheets." He laughed while Joan blushed crimson. "I'm glad things worked out for you and Alexa, " she said (fingers crossed behind her back, I hate the little twit), "but if something happens and you need a drinking buddy, don't call me, I'll call you.! Kidding!! Now come here and give me a hug. After all, you've got me branded for life, you know." Methos came over and folder her into his arms. "We'll see each other again." He gave her a long, tender kiss and left the room. -------------------------------------------- Joan sighed as she thought of Adam/Methos. She looked out on the wing and saw.....Kenny! He was doing something to the wing! Joan closed the curtain and shook her head. "Nah, tequila brain," she said and opened the curtain again. His face was pressed up against the window, his chubby, cretinous, little face leering at her. She gave a muffled scream and closed the curtain again. The stewardess came by and asked, "Is there a problem, ma'am?" "Can't you see him?" Joan asked. "Look out there!" The stewardness opened the curtain, and there was nothing there. "It's a bit foggy today, ma'am," "I'm sure that there are a lot of clouds out there that are playing tricks with your imagination." Joan looked again ---- nothing there. Whew She went back to reading her Sandra MacDonald novel. "Oh miss," she beckoned the stewardess, "forget the pepsi, bring me some Cuervo gold and chocolate, lots of chocolate." And as the plan faded slowly into the east, there was the humming of a theme song and the words, "........I have inside me pork and beans." End With apologies to an old Twilight Zone episode, "Terror at 20,000 feet" (that starred William Shatner) And to Monty Python (too much of the Complete Waste of Time CD I guess). This has been a great time! =========================================================================== Date: Thu, 4 Apr 1996 12:59:50 -0500 From: "Sean A.Simpson" Subject: WAR: Going home Title: Going Home Author: Sean Simpson When: Friday, during the day Where: Seacouver International Sean took one long look back at Seacouver as the plane took off. Next to him was a wombat, looking rather frazzled as he morphed back and forth. It had been a long war, not even a week, even though it had felt like two and a half weeks. Sean sat back in the seat as he and the wombat opened cans of Pepsi and prepared to get really drunk before school called Sean back. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-==-===-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Later that day... Sean sat up suddenly, still giddy from the Pepsi high. The wombat was sound asleep; he had passed out after the third case. They were approaching Lehigh Valley International, and Sean was definitely not ready to go back to school. He still wasn't fully recovered from the K'immie Brigade's revelation about Duncan and Methos' past...such things were horrors best left swept under the rug. Sean shivered again at the memory, and opened the last can of Pepsi. It was going to be a long night. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Okay, that's it for me, folks. For those of you who are following my fanfic saga, I'll be rewriting "Love and Loss" over my Easter break, and plotting out the last three installments in "The Sands of Time." I'll post "Love and Loss" Monday or Tuesday of next week. Peace, Sean =========================================================================== Date: Thu, 4 Apr 1996 23:00:16 -0500 From: ladd kimberly a Subject: WAR: Title: Ready to Fly: In Which the Witch Mounts Her Broomstick (figuratively speaking, of course) Author: Morgan Where: The Dojo When: Last Day of the War Why: Because my Chief won't let me stay in his closet until the next War *************************************************************************** I looked around the loft as it was slowly being returned to its former neatness by the departing DFWs. This many people were just not meant to inhabit such a small space. And I was looking forward to a hot shower. (He *has* to get that hot water heater fixed.) I turned to Duncan, who was wisely keeping out of the way of so many women (and one man) packing (albeit reluctantly) to leave. We regarded each other for a moment. It's hard to say goodbye. It's especially hard to say goodbye to someone so... delectable. But my flight back to Virginia was leaving in a couple of hours, and I had to return the rental car--not to mention navigating Seacouver's streets. Fictional cities tend to have streets that go anywhere they want to go. (I wouldn't be surprised if the Island of Conclusions was just past the horizon.) "Well," I said, "this is it." "Thanks for coming," he replied from his perch on the kitchen table. I didn't move, so neither did he. (I mean, I'm not an idiot. Who *wouldn't* want to stay?) I sighed and hefted my duffle, and Duncan (ever the gentleman) instantly jumped down off the table, then reached out and took it from me. "I'll walk you downstairs," he stated, and gestured toward the stairs. Well, that meant I had to move. So I took the opportunity to let him go first down the stairs. (Hey, I'm human, too. Looking's free. No harm in it.....) He turned to me at the bottom of the stairs. "What's with the long face?" he teased with that devilish grin that I knew so well. I pouted my best pout (Amanda's way better at pouting, but I observed her carefully when I could, and I think I'm learning) and told him, "Do I have to go? Can't I just hide in the closet and take a jujitsu lesson from time to time?" He chuckled, putting down the duffle, and put his arms around me (see, the pouting worked!). "You have to go," he said softly into my ear. "You have to finish your degree." I pulled back and gave him a dirty look. He continued, "You'll be back in the next War, but that doesn't mean I won't be thinking of all my flagwavers." Well, he was right. He's not *always* right, but he's *usually* right. So I told him so. That made him laugh, which was worth the trouble, in and of itself. Next best thing to making a guy... well, this *is* a PG war. Figure it out yourself. We let each other go and kind of stood there, in the middle of the dojo, for another moment or two. "I can make it the rest of the way, Duncan," I told him, picking up my duffle. (I've moved so often, I really *can* pack light, when I have to.) "Take care," he said simply. I made it about halfway across the dojo floor before my better half got the better of myself (the Evil Morgan--be afraid, be very afraid). So I went back and kissed him goodbye. "Watch your head," I told him. And I left. *************************************************************************** Well, folks, it was about the most fun I've had all semester! What a blast! Hope I'll see some of you in May, at Syndi-Con--accost me and say hello! (Especially since I don't know if I'll have email access after May, so that may well be your last chance. :( I'll miss the List--don't have the next War without me!) Blessings to All-- Morgan DFW International--Watcher Corps The Six-Foot, Red-Headed, Amazon Witch From Hell kaladd@mail.wm.edu =========================================================================== Date: Thu, 4 Apr 1996 08:34:08 -0700 From: Falcon Storm Subject: Back to Reality Title: Back to Reality - Going Home Author: Falcon Storm - Co-Chief DFW When: Last Day of the War Where: While Falcon wanted to stay longer in Seacouver longer, her agent had called, informing her of a modeling job and she needed to get back. She had to be content that no jobs had come up during the midst of the war. It was time to get back to reality. Duncan drove her to the airport in his Thunderbird, letting the top down so the wind could whip their hair. They reminisced about the good times they had had during this event; Falcon had arrived to help him teach a martial arts seminar (which had been cancelled) and to celebrate her birthday, and they never could have guessed her time spent in Seacouver would have been so exciting. They walked together through the airport terminal, neither speaking, in anticipation of parting. Falcon still couldn't help but feel a bit foolish over her failed attempt at seduction, and this aided in her silence. Finally at their destination, they paused, and Falcon turned to face him. "Well," she said. "I guess this is it." Duncan shook his head and swept back a stray curl from her cheek. "No, sweetheart. We'll see each other again soon." Assuming he was referring to rescheduling the seminar, Falcon was about to question him about the details, when he moved into her, their lips meeting in a tender, warm kiss. Falcon closed her eyes and allowed their kiss to deepen, reveling in his taste. When they finally pulled apart, their dark gazes met and she smiled. Before finally departing, she gently, lovingly, touched his cheek. He was right. They would meet up again soon. ========== Falcon Storm: Historian: DFW International ***************************************************** Co-Chief for the War DFW's "There can be only one" ***************************************************** =========================================================================== Date: Thu, 4 Apr 1996 22:23:58 -0500 From: Carol Ann Liddiard Subject: WAR: Home Sweet Home Title: Home Sweet Home Author: Leighann When: After The WAR Where: Four Seasons & Seacouver Airport Leighann checked out,had her bookbag & small suitcase and was about to get a cab when Methos/Adam Pierson stopped by. Leighann had a smile on her smile. I've heard what the MFW's did to Alexa & Stavos. It was evil." "Devious." added Methos. "Gross." "Disgusting." "And down right mean." She paused "I loved it!" Leighann now wore a smirk. Methos just laughed and said "You really are a treasure. Please, don't go to Connor's faction. Stay wiht me. . us. Please." Methos had this sad look on his face. "All right." Methos began to smile. "I'll... think about it." then Methos only wore a half-smile." "Think about it *real* hard." whispered Methos. Suddenly, a grin came over his face "Y'know, I've kissed every MFW except you. I wonder why I left you out." he said in humor. "Well, we should remedy that now, shouldn't we?" Leighann went into Methos' arms and Methos' soft lips came down on hers merging into a hot passionate steamy kiss. They must have stayed locked in each other's arms too long because more than a few gasps were heard by Methos & Leighann. "Leighann, how could you?" somebody cried. Leighann & Methos separated from each other and they both wore sheepish grins on their faces as they saw the MFW's standing there. "What *are* you doing to Adam?" another cried. "Oh, just giving him a little kiss goodbye." said Leighann "That was a pretty long kiss to me. How say you all?" said one. All the MFW's nodded in agreement. "Guilty as charged." said Leighann with a smile. "But y'all have had him the *whole* time. I need a little taste of him too." "Are you going back to North Carolina?" said Methos. "Yes, I am. I'm still in school there." "It's so pretty in the spring. I remember when we walked in a park near there." Leighann laughed and said "Then I acciedently(sp) fell and you grabbed with both of your arms, and then you kissed me. . ." ". . . .if we had kissed any longer, do you think we might have. . ." "Possibly. And you still had your car, we might have done it there. . . " Leighann & Methos stared at each other, remembering the three days they had known each other. Meanwhile, The MFW's stared at both of them, wondering what might have gone on in those three days. "Look, Methos, Everybody. I gotta go. I've booked my flight for this afternoon." said Leighann. Then she said only to Methos "If you and Alexa ever break up again, please call me." Methos smiled and then Methos took Leighann's hand again and kissed it. "A kiss for a wonderful lady." he whispered softly. Then his mouth touched hers again, and Leighann shuddered in pleasure. A few minutes, when Methos' lips left his, Leighann whispered "Adam. . . . .Methos. . . ." "Goodbye, my love. I hope Fate allows us to meet again." Methos softly stroked Leighann's cheek. "Oh, Methos. ." Leighann's eyes filled with tears. ". .I hope so. ." "Goodbye, Leighann. Take care." "Goodbye, Methos. You too. Have a nice trip home." Leighann said goodbye to all the MFW's, called a cab, and left for the airport. ______________________________ Leighann was on a plane back to North Carolina. She had another book in her hands,"Star Trek: Voyager #7 Ghost of a Chance." *Ironic, is it not?* Then she reached in a little bag she had with her. She brought out a picture of herself and Methos. She smiled and traced Methos' face in the picture. She already knew that she would be back for the next war. . . . all because of a certain immortal with a big nose. ****************************************** Leighann klcombs@hamlet.uncg.edu =========================================================================== Date: Thu, 4 Apr 1996 21:49:33 -0500 From: Sandy Fields Subject: War: Dirty Dancing Title: Dirty Dancing Author: Sandy Fields and the Members of the Ladies Aide Society When: After the War is Over Where: Seacouver Hilton They were all still on cloud nine from having actually met Duncan MacLeod. And to actually have been of some help to him in this war was the icing on the cake. And he had actually KISSED Joanne! How the hell did she rate a kiss? None of the rest of them had gotten a kiss. Speaking of kisses.... Sandy turned to Tiye who was watching The Samurai, the first of her 3rd season tape set (hey, this is fantasy, right?). "Um... Tiye, you never told us about your little fling with Kassim last night. Don't you want to report back to us on what you found out? Or *how* you found out?" Tiye never even looked away from the TV. "The war is over. None of it matters now." The ladies all looked at each other and shrugged. It was getting late, they had their flights in the morning, and they wanted to just veg out in the room and relax. No more war talk. Just then there was a knock on the door. Char went to check it out. "Who is it?" They were all astonished to here a buttery soft male voice answer "It's Duncan. Wanna go out for pizza?" Char snatched the door open and sure enough there Duncan stood with a shit-eatin' grin on his face. "You're joking, right?" Charlotte did not look pleased. Duncan laughed laughed at the look on Charlotte's face. He could see that his little joke was not going over very well. "Ladies, the T-Bird is downstairs. All your flag-wavin' friends have gone home, and I thought I'd treat the Ladies Aide Society to one decent meal before you leave Seacouver. A little thank you for coming to my aid so courageously over the last few days. I understand you haven't had the best of luck in finding places to eat since you've been here." He headed for the door and the ladies just stood there -- speechless. "Well... you comin' or not?" With that he was down the hall. The five women almost ran over each other getting to the elevator before it shut. In the car Tiye asked, "So where we goin'? And if you say Chuck E. Cheese I'll kill you!" Duncan just winked at her. That took care of her. She was speechless for the rest of the ride. Soon they pulled up in front of the dojo. "Duncan, we really appreciate this, but... " Duncan interrupted her. "Just come on, Sandy. Don't be such a skeptic. Go with the flow, OK?" They followed him into the elevator, wondering and anticipating what Duncan MacLeod had in store for the Ladies Aide Society. As the elevator rose to the upper floor, they could discern aromas of many foods all wafting together. Upon entering they loft, their eyes fell on the spread that Duncan had laid out for them. A salad of fresh baby lettuce with various dressings to choose from, leg of lamb crusted with rosemary, mashed potatoes, string beans. Duncan put an "easy-listening" CD in the player to help create a nice atmosphere, poured the wine for his guests, and they all sat down to enjoy the meal that he had prepared just for them. They were surprised and amazed. "You did all this yourself?! You shouldn't have gone to all this trouble!" Joanne was inwardly thrilled that he had. "Well, you ladies dropped everything that was going on in your lives and went to great expense to come out here and help me. I'd say this is the least I could do." As they proceeded to have their first decent meal since arriving in Seacouver, they began a light, friendly conversation with lots of laughs over the occurrences of the past few days. Once the meal was finished, the ladies began to clear the table; but Duncan told them that the meal wasn't done just yet. He went and puttered around in the kitchen for a bit and came back with Sandy's favorite dessert, brownie ala mode -- scoop of vanilla ice cream over a chewy brownie, drowned in hot fudge and topped with 'real'whipped cream (which Duncan had whipped himself, of course). "Duncan, how on earth did you know?" Sandy asked. "Well you ladies aren't the only ones that know how to do a little sleuthing. And speaking of sleuthing, I heard that the Queen did a little of that with Kassim last night. What gives, Tiye? Did you find out anything?" All eyes were on Tiye. "Well, I found out about Kassim's allergy", Tiye said with a laugh. "Would you believe the man is allergic to human hair!? That's why he has to wear those animals for a disguise instead of normal human hair beards! Duncan, if you ever get into another fight with him, just fling your ponytail in his face and the fight will be over. He'll have a sneezing fit like you've never seen! You should have seen him last night when I leaned over to give him a kiss and my braids brushed his face. I thought he was gonna sneeze himself to death!" The laughter coming out of the loft was so loud that they could be heard out on the street. "I'll be sure to remember that one", Duncan laughed as he went over and changed the CD to something a little more upbeat. He began to snap his fingers and sway to the beat, and Charlotte left her brownie to join him in the dance. The others at the table clapped and sang as the two dancers let the music take control of their movements. "You're so serious all the time, Duncan. I'd never have thought you danced!" Charlotte was having fun slippin' & slidin' to the music and keeping up with Duncan's every step. It was easy really... he was a very good dancer. He knew just how to hold a woman so that she could feel him and her body could anticipate his body's every move and follow it effortlessly. This dirty dancing was a lot of fun... in more ways than one! As that song was over and Charlotte sat down, Sandy headed for the kitchen with the dirty dishes. The others were still in conversation, and Duncan was all revved up. He had his mojo workin' and wanted to dance some more! So as the next song came on, he grabbed Barb. She wasn't a bit shy! She flung both arms around his neck, stared right into his eyes, and began to undulate every so smoothly to the sensual beat of the music. His sly smile dared her to get just as dirty as she wanted, and the two were in a world all their own -- just them and the music. It was fun to watch -- and more fun to participate! When you danced with him, he had a way of making you feel as if you were the only other person in the room. Before the evening was over, they had all had a turn with Duncan MacLeod! ************************************ When he dropped them off at their hotel, he again thanked them for coming to his aid. They thanked him again for dinner, and made him promise not to hesitate to call the DFW's if ever he needed them again. He laughed at this, but he promised. This had been a week that these ladies would never forget. Motor City Mama =========================================================================== Date: Sun, 31 Mar 1996 13:51:12 -0500 From: Scott Cover Subject: WAR: Coises, (partly) foiled again! Title: Coises, (partly) foiled again! Author: Scott Cover When: Where: Someone has worked hard to keep me out of the war. Everything had been going well, coming up here with Jenny, meetings with a couple different factions, stirring up trouble; everything. Everything until I realized today that because of Jenny, I haven't left the hotel in three days, catching up on my backlogged e-mail alone will take days. I guess my behind the scene manipulations and plans will have to suffice in causing trouble...pity I couldn't get The Weasel to commit fully to my plan, but she evidently has something else in mind..... Uh oh, Jenny is coming back in the room and I haven't touched my food yet, it may well be another week before I get out of this room...not a bad way to be thwarted though...probably better than what the Richie Reserves would do to me if they found out what I had planned. Ah well, that frosting coated lad will get his before the War is over anyway. scover@icontrol.anza.com =========================================================================== Date: Thu, 4 Apr 1996 12:59:50 -0500 From: "Sean A.Simpson" Subject: WAR: Going home Title: "Going Home" Author: Sean Simpson Time: Friday, during the day Where: Seacouver International Sean took one long look back at Seacouver as the plane took off. Next to him was a wombat, looking rather frazzled as he morphed back and forth. It had been a long war, not even a week, even though it had felt like two and a half weeks. Sean sat back in the seat as he and the wombat opened cans of Pepsi and prepared to get really drunk before school called Sean back. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-==-===-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Later that day... Sean sat up suddenly, still giddy from the Pepsi high. The wombat was sound asleep; he had passed out after the third case. They were approaching Lehigh Valley International, and Sean was definitely not ready to go back to school. He still wasn't fully recovered from the K'immie Brigade's revelation about Duncan and Methos' past...such things were horrors best left swept under the rug. Sean shivered again at the memory, and opened the last can of Pepsi. It was going to be a long night. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Peace, Sean ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ |Sean A. Simpson -- Trekkie, X-Phile, Highlander, etc. | |stsas02@moravian.edu @}-`--,--- | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ =========================================================================== Date: Thu, 4 Apr 1996 23:44:44 -0800 From: "Toni C. Holm" Subject: WAR: Goodbye at Last Title: Goodbyes Author: Toni Holm, Lisa, Dana & linda When: Firday, Final Day of the War Where: MFW HQ no more, Four Seasons Hotel, Seacouver It was uncharacteristically sunny outside the Seacouver Four Seasons Hotel. None of the locals could understand why the city had been blessed with two weeks of sun during what was usually the most miserable season of the year. "Just so they don't all decide to move here", one old timer was heard to hrrumph. Methos, alias Adam Pierson, honorary pissant grad student was saying farewell to some of his gang of flag wavers & calvary, a smiling Alexa holding his arm. "Sorry to deceive you all luvs, but I knew Horton had a habit of going after people close to his targets and I didn't want Alexa in danger. However she refused to go way and hide, so I called my friend Stavros and asked him to help..." "Your friend?, Dana sputtered "Ooops", Toni muttered to herself turing bright red... The others turned & looked at her. "Uh... I just remembered something I have to do... be back in a minute". With that she turned and ran inside dialing her cellular as she went. "Dana," she said with a significant look, "I think you need to *help* with this..." Dana paused, shaking hands with Adam apologizing. "I'm really sorry about spying on you like that. But we all have jobs as I'm sure you know. Anyway, Stavros fired me only a couple of hours ago since I was doing such a lousy job of keeping him clean. Hhmpfh." "Does that mean you're still dying of AMD?" one of the MFW asked Alexa. "Don't start..." Carol Ann admonished. Alexa smiled brightly, " Since there have never been any diagnosed symptoms of AMD, we won't know till the new episodes. In the meantime, there's always Paris" Lisa scowled at Alexa, who was now standing sweetly to one side as Methos made his goodbyes to the PSGs. At least the little chit probably still has AMD, she thought, not without some satisfaction. She was about to put her fingers to her lips to whistle up a horse (there was no way she'd get a cab to the airport with all the factions leaving town at once) when Adam broke away and crossed over to her. "You weren't going to leave without a goodbye, were you?" Lisa shrugged and shifted her saddle bag on her shoulder. "I have to go rescue my dog from the neighbors. And then there are web pages to write, professors to teach HTML to, dishes to wash and mountains of back mail to slog through." "I would have thought the leader of the illustrious cavalry would lead a more glamorous life." "Nope." She offered a hand. "I guess this is goodbye." Adam took her hand and pulled her into a bear hug, "Next time you're in Europe, look me up and we'll talk about Arthur...you still owe me three beers." "Deal," she smiled and disentangled herself from his arms. "But I still won't teach you the Whistle Trick." Adam winked at her and blasted out a piercing whistle that brought her grey cantering from behind the hotel. She blinked at him in amazement for a moment, then grinned. "Well, just remember that the cavalry is only to be called out in emergencies." She started to turn and mount and then remembered... "Oh, wait." Lisa said, rummaging around in her saddle bag for a moment. She produced a slightly crumpled envelope and handed it to him. "Linda asked me to give this to you." Adam took it and tore it open, reading the note with a smile. "Thanks." "No problem. If it's not the cavalry, it's the Pony Express." From her vantage point in the saddle, she could see quite clearly that the piece of paper was entirely blank. Weird. Then again, this whole trip had been a bit weird. She shrugged. Adam and Linda had a relationship that went back to a time before she was even on the planet. Undoubtedly he understood. "Of course," he smiled and offered her a leg up. "Ride safe." "You bet. And you watch your head." She smiled down at him and waved to Heidi and the rest of the PSGs, before trotting off down the street. The others gathered round to get a hug, a kiss or a handshake. Some would be leaving immediately, others more leisurely. Methos looked over the assembled heads and thought about the group who had dragged him hither and yon from Athens to Disneyland and finally assembled here in Seacouver, Carol Ann, Cindy, Deb, Heather, Heidi, Joan, his drinking buddy, Jen, Kathleen, last seen in wombat form, Laura, Miracle, Lizbet (of closet fame), Charlyne, Leighann, linda of the mysterious note, Jeff, Tammy, Lisa and her fellow calvary. It was hard to imagine a better, or more ...uh... active.. group of flagwavers. He thought he'd probably miss them, but life certainly was certainly going to be a lot quieter without them around. He noticed Dana and Toni had rejoined the group, still apparently at odds but, looking decidedly more comfortable. He reached out and shook Dana's hand and mumbled something that apparently came as quite a surprise from the look on Dana's face. Toni stood back a second not quite sure how much he knew of her "activities" during the war. "Quite a bit more than you might think", he said correctly interpreting her expression. "I've nothing to be ashamed of," she said quietly. "We'll have to fix that," he said holding her and pulling her face toward his... A spectator no more, she enjoyed every minute of it. The group began to disperse, walking away singly and in pairs. There was heard some talk of "Baltimore" and "Denver, next year". This war was ending, but there was a whole new set of episodes to explore. There was one thing of which they were all sure, Methos would be back, and so would they... ----------------------------------------------------- After struggling with a borrowed computer for two days to get this posted you didn't think I was going to miss that opportunity did you? I'll miss warring with you all. Hope to see a few of you in Baltimore. Till we meet again... -Toni =========================================================================== Date: Wed, 3 Apr 1996 23:06:30 EST From: "linda c. fried" <103213.3530@COMPUSERVE.COM> Subject: war:hi,ho,silver...away! Title: Hi Ho Silver... Away! Author: Linda Fried When: Friday Where: "Dr. Fried...Dr. Fried...oh, Doctor...", the front desk manager shouted trying hard to get my attention as I hurried past, trying to look ob- livious to the increasingly louder shouts from the man. I really wanted to head out and have some fun. Get kidnapped, or rescued, or rescue someone, or just party with some of the folks gathered there, even shopping sounded good at this point, but I knew that if I stopped to get my messages, I'd be off again. The man was just too insist- ant. Maybe I could just grab the messages and not read them until Thursday. Reluctantly I stepped over to the hotel desk and smiled tiredly at the man. He was just doing his job. "Dr. Fried, we have a huge stack of faxes for you, and some, well," he paused to check his computer screen, "57 messages for you. 21 from a Dr. Myrddin, and another 5 from Mr. de Molay. You really should pick up your messages more often." "Yes, well, thank you, and I will certainly try to be more diligent about this in the future." I scanned through the messages and glanced at the faxes. Damn! There was the one I had half-hoped for, and half-feared receiving. And these others...I guess that I really had to check them out, and soon. No, now. I owed it to Jacques, and maybe to Adam and a few others as well. Dr. Myrddin was willing to see me, to work with me. He was such a recluse that I shook my head in wonderment. He had refused many of my prior requests, and Jacques', and Adam's, and... And de Molay, hmmm...curioser and curioser. I found the concierge and had them arrange flights for me back to Scotland. A quick stop there and off to Maridunon in Wales, and maybe some answers. Up in my room I jotted a quick note to Adam: Off to see Myrddin in Maridunon, then to see de Molay at the Isle de Cite. Will leave word for you at Tintagel. If not a false lead, will meet you at the Moun- tain at Edinburgh. Keep in touch. May the gods smile upon you. The lettering on this note will disappear 1 minute after the opening of the hermet- ically sealed envelope. linda I then sealed the note in an envelope, and addressed it to Adam, chuckling at the mysterious note he'd receive. I was sure other people would be curious, and they'd see only a blank sheet. Good one, I thought. I sealed Adam's envelope inside a larger one and addressed it to Lisa, whom I know would get it to Adam. Grabbing my bags, I checked out and headed for the airport. Until later, I thought, thinking of where this little adventure might lead. linda c. fried 103213.3530@ compuserve.com =========================================================================== Date: Thu, 4 Apr 1996 12:46:51 -0500 From: anonymous Subject: WAR: Keep in touch Title: Keep in Touch Author: Laura When: Last day of the war, Where: Richie's place and Connor's suite, The phone rang in Connor's suite. Polly picked it up. Polly: Hello. Laura: Hi, Polly. You weren't in your room so I was hoping I could reach you in Connor's room. "It's Laura," Polly told Connor, Virginia and Darci. Polly: We were having a nice talk with Connor. Laura: You guys are having all the fun. We're cleaning up Richie's apartment. Polly: Should have stayed with us. Laura: Maybe next time. I'm just happy we're all going home soon and I can get a decent night's sleep in my own bed. Did you need a lift to the airport? I don't know what time I'll be finished cleaning, but I can stop by as soon as we're through here. Polly: No. Darci offered to drive me to the airport on her way home. Laura: Okay, well I guess I should say goodbye. You have to come out to Florida some time. We'll see Epcot and Villa Vizcaya and Sawgrass Mills. Polly: Some time. And if you're ever in Texas again, come by. Laura: I will. I really want to see your horses and dogs. The cats I can do without, Laura thought, but didn't tell her friend. Laura: Tell everyone goodbye for me. Polly: You can tell them. Polly waved Connor over to the phone. Laura: I really don't want to bother them right now. Just tell Connor it was great seeing him and I'm glad everything turned out all right. Connor: It was nice meeting you too, Laura. Laura: Ah, Connor.... Hi.... Well I'm glad everything worked out okay. Guess you're happy to be going home. Connor: I always liked traveling. I did want to thank you for all your help, Laura. I didn't do much, just got Richie to go over, Laura thought. Laura: You're welcome. Uh...you know that antique store, Nash Antiques in New York? Is it any good? Connor: Any good? Laura: Does it have some good pieces? My family's into antiques and we visit New York a lot. Maybe next time we're up there we'll go see it. Connor: Next time you're in New York stop by. And ask for me. I'll warn Rachel. Laura: Great. Well, have a nice trip. Virginia and Darci had grabbed the phone from Connor. Virginia: Bye Laura. Thanks for coming. Darci: Nice meeting you. E-mail me some time and we'll discuss programming and favorite TV shows. Laura: Bye everyone. I'll keep in touch. Virginia: Watch your head. Laura: Always. Polly took back the phone. Polly: It was nice finally meeting you in person. Laura: Nice seeing you too. Hope you don't mind Virginia and me dragging you into this. Polly: No it was fun. And I needed a vacation anyway. I'll e-mail you when I'm back home. Laura: Okay. Looking forward to it. Have a good flight. Polly: You too. Laura: I'll write to you soon. Laura Michaels p004927b@pbfreenet.seflin.lib.fl.us http://members.aol.com/lauram3017/index.html =========================================================================== Date: Thu, 4 Apr 1996 15:18:22 -0500 From: anonymous Subject: WAR: The Flight Home Title: The Flight Home Author: Laura Michaels When: Friday Where: Seacouver International Airport Laura Michaels sat at the airport. She had said goodbye to Virginia, Darci and Polly and to Celli and Marina. She was only sorry she hadn't had time to see Carol Ann while she was there, but from what little Celli had related of the events at the MFW camp and the few e-mail messages she'd received from her, Carol Ann had her hands full. Well this hadn't been too bad a trip. She had run into the Thirteenth Tribe at the Galactica Convenion again, had finally been able to buy a daggit and picked up some pretty good 'zines. She'd also got to meet and talk to Richie and Connor. Connor might even give her a discount the next time she went antique shopping in New York at his store. Let's see, she had all her Battlestar Galactica memorabilia from the convention and her TV/VCR and luggage. She'd made all her phone calls before leaving Richie with the new laptop and cell phone. He might need them more than she did. Laura pulled out her Han Solo trilogy, the one signed by Brian Daley himself saying she was welcome to a ride on the Millennium Falcon any time, and waited for her flight. Laura Michaels p004927b@pbfreenet.seflin.lib.fl.us http://members.aol.com/lauram3017/index.html =========================================================================== Date: Fri, 5 Apr 1996 01:09:58 -0500 From: Virginia Foster Subject: WAR: Endings (or is it?) Title: Endings (or is it?) Author: Virginia Foster When: Friday afternoon Where: Lambert Inn, Seacouver. Slowly, the Connor flag wavers had said their goodbyes and left to return home. Darci offered to take Polly to the airport, and Laura had called from Richie's to say goodbye. Virginia sat lounging in a chair in Connor's suite. She wasn't looking at the Immortal or the packed suitcases on the floor. "Well, I guess this is it, isn't it? Everyone else has left. Time to get back to reality." She sighed. Connor could hear the sadness in her voice. In fact, he'd been hearing it from all the flag wavers. They may have been late getting here, but they were a dedicated group. And thankfully not nearly as over whelming as the Duncan or Richie flag wavers. "It doesn't have to be over," Connor said cryptically. She turned to look at him, "What do you mean by that? The war is over. The Chronicle is safe. Horton is gone. You've even found the sword that was stolen from the store in New York. Eventually, I have to get back to Atlanta, and to work." Connor smiled. "I meant just what I said, it does not have to be over. Who says you *have* to go back to Atlanta right now? Wasn't there another flag waver that couldn't make it here? The one from Maine you told me about." "That would be Marty. Poor thing, she was sick and couldn't get out here. I did get an email from her last night. She'll be here next time. And yes, she lives in Maine." Virginia went back to staring out the window. Connor walked over and dropped an envelope in her lap. "What's this?" she asked. Opening the envelope she found two first class airline tickets to Maine. "Connor! What is this? What is going on?" "I thought we could drop by and visit Marty. Since she couldn't fly out here. And it's more or less on the way." He stopped to watch her reaction. "On the way to where?" Virginia asked, grinning now. Just when she thought she had this man figured out, he always managed to surprise her. He handed her another envelope. She opened it to find two more first class airline tickets. Destination of Scotland. "Connor!!" she gasped. "Scotland! ohmigosh, I can't take these." "And why not?" "Cause... Cause... oh I don't know! I don't know what to say." "It's just a short vacation. I thought you'd finally like to see where it all began. Glenfinnan, the shores of Loch Shiel." Connor moved closer to kiss her and could tell by the look on her face, that the decision had been made. "When do we leave?" she asked. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------- Thanks folks!! It's been great fun!! Virginia Chief, Connor faction "It's a kind of magic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Virginia Foster ***** vfoster@mindspring.com Flag waver for Connor MacLeod / Christopher Lambert ("Same clan, different vintage" / "Dare to Dream ") **** Now open!! my very own web page :-) ***** http://www.mindspring.com/~vfoster/va.html ===========================================================================