BONNIE'S SWEET SIXTEEN PARTY IN A WELL-TO-DO SUBURB OF THE CITY

Keith White was enthusiastic in his greeting. Perhaps a touch too enthusiastic to sound genuine. He welcomed his guests to his 'home away from home'. Duncan thought that was an odd way to refer to his American residence and questioned him.

"Isn't this your home, Mr. White?" Duncan did not feel comfortable enough to call his host by his first name, and White did not suggest that he should.

"This?" He gestured to his surroundings. It was a lovely Georgian brick house, old by American standards at over a hundred years. They'd passed the plaque that proclaimed it an historic site on the way in.

"Yes, this home you share with your wife, Deborah and her daughter." Duncan smiled, and tried to keep his tone light hearted.

"Some of us don't transplant as well as others, Mr. MacLeod. If it weren't for the fact that Deborah insisted on being close to her daughter, I would never have moved to the colonies. As soon as Bonnie is done with her schooling this year, we are all moving back to White Hall. It is the only place I'll ever call home."

White mechanically got through polite pleasantries and an introduction to Joe, barely veiling his elitist attitude that Joe was 'not of his class' and shortly returned his complete attention to Duncan. Joe, realizing he'd been dismissed by his Lordship, wandered off to mingle with the other, hopefully more pleasant, guests.

"I think I'll go check out the music selection." Joe said as he excused himself and headed toward the stereo. He was pleasantly surprised to find some B.B. King.

"So..." White's eyes darted from side to side. Once he made certain no one else was within earshot he said, "You are Duncan MacLeod, of the clan MacLeod." Duncan didn't react as White spouted MacLeod's usual greeting to unknown Immortals at him.

White continued, slithering around MacLeod as he whispered first in one ear, then the other- "I've heard so much about you... and your exploits. Your adventures are legendary in our circle. It is such a treat to finally meet you." He limply extended his hand and Duncan reluctantly shook it. White's grip was clammy and it took an extreme effort on Duncan's part not to wipe his hand off afterward.

"Well, it seems you've caught me at a slight disadvantage, Mr. White. There is so little I know about you." Duncan was sure White's pasty grin turned into a smirk at that point, his heavy lidded eyes twinkling 'I've got a secret'.

"That's easily remedied! Anyone who has been such a good friend to my Deborah can ask me anything he wants. What would you like to know?"

He winced when White said 'my Deborah', a phrase Harry had often used. How could she go from a simple, down-to-earth man like Harry to this aristocratic snob? He would just have to add that question to the continually growing list of things about Deborah that he didn't understand.

Duncan couldn't imagine how these two wound up married. It was not a social arrangement, of that he was positive. Deborah was hardly someone White would consider a catch.

He'd watched them.

White was fawning and attentive to Deborah to the point where Duncan felt he was putting on a show. But there were no sparks between them. It was not a grand passion that brought them together. Duncan was going to need more information before he could even begin to unravel the mystery.

"So, how did you and Deborah meet?" White was about to answer, when the charge of another immortal went through both of them as Maggie Jennings entered the room.

"It's getting to be a regular convention here tonight." White remarked in a stunned tone. He had obviously not been expecting there to be yet another Immortal at his little gathering.

"You've never met Maggie Jennings before?"

"No."

White walked away abruptly to play host along side Deborah in greeting their latest arrival. Free of White for the moment, Duncan observed Maggie.

He was shocked by the change in Maggie's appearance. It was quite a transformation from the last time he had seen her. Her hairstyle was a short, auburn pageboy now- not long gray hair neatly wound into a bun. Her new wardrobe was just as drastically different as her new hairdo. Gone were the matronly shoes and polyester pants. Maggie was wearing high heels and a custom tailored silk suit with a mini skirt.

He took a closer look. Of course she still had deep laugh lines around her mouth and eyes, but the new hairdo softened them. She was also wearing makeup! He had never seen Maggie wear makeup before. It seemed the "Amazing Amanda" had struck again. And she'd been a very busy girl.

Duncan and White weren't the only ones to notice the second Maggie entered the room. Joe asked his hostess if he could play something special. Deborah was only to happy to let him, and a little intrigued. Maggie's face beamed as the music reached her. She turned toward it, knowing Joe would be there.

"A bit long in the tooth- and short of everything else- to be one of us, isn't she?" Duncan was so dazed by the 'new' Maggie he hadn't noticed White skulking up to him. White smirked and chuckled at his own joke. The glare Duncan shot at White quickly made him aware of his faux pas. The smirk faded. "A friend of yours, I take it?"

"Yes, and a friend to Bonnie. She works at St. Michael."

"St. who? Oh yes, that little convent school you sent Bonnie to." He seemed to be inspecting Maggie with the disappointment of a farmer considering an undersized hen for Sunday dinner. "Holy ground is a wise choice for that one. Such a tiny woman. A good stiff wind would send her flying clear across town! I dare say she'd be able to hold up anything heavier than a parasol to defend herself."

"Appearances can be deceiving." Duncan deliberately implied greater skill than he knew Maggie had. He wanted to squash any ideas White might be getting. It always worried him that some Immortal after an easy hit would take Maggie's head the second she set foot off holy ground.

Duncan had taken Maggie on as a student before her first death. He had started a self- defense class for seniors and invited her to join for the sole purpose of getting close to her, though she didn't know it at the time. Duncan wanted to be able to keep an eye on her just in case something triggered her immortality at that late stage.

That something turned out to be Kenny. He couldn't stand the thought of Maggie taking her unawakened immortality to a quiet grave. So he killed her. Kenny wanted her quickening, but hadn't counted on the old lady putting up a fight. He botched the beheading and never got the quickening but he left Maggie a nasty scar to remember him by.

Richie had been living with Duncan at the dojo when they first met Maggie. Between the two of them they prepared her as much as possible. They started by teaching her basic throws and defensive moves. She picked those moves up very easily.

They'd both been pleasantly surprised to find that Maggie had managed to keep herself perfectly fit at sixty. She was quite limber, agile and healthy from following a lifetime regime of yoga and vegetarianism. Oddly enough it was not her sixty year old body that was the problem.

Duncan had his first impasse with his gray-haired student when he tried to introduce her to fencing. She was repelled by swords and taking the offensive in an attack. He hadn't seen that intense an aversion to combat from an Immortal since Claudia Jardine.

Maggie Jennings absolutely refused to carry a sword. After relentless nagging, Duncan managed to get her to at least agree to keep a sword near by. That didn't satisfy him completely, but it was better than no sword at all. Luckily, she didn't leave St. Michael's very often.

Joe saw her and was immediately by her side.

"Maggie!" They hugged and then nervously backed away from each other. Both were a little unsure of their status.

Sometime during their date in The Big Easy they had become more than friends- but less than a couple. Though they were intensely attracted to each other, they had their own separate lives to lead.

It was more than immortality that stood between them. Maggie couldn't see leaving the children of St. Michael's, not even for Joe. And while Joe didn't mind visiting St. Michael's every once in a while, he could not see living there. They'd agreed to give each other time to think things over.

So did this reunion warrant more than a hug, but less than a passionate kiss? Would a chaste peck on the cheek be appropriate or too cold and formal after New Orleans? It was all new territory.

White was watching Maggie and Joe as he commented to Duncan.

"There certainly seems to be something brewing between those two." White said with distaste.

"You have a problem with that?" Duncan was liking Keith White less and less with each passing moment.

"He's a Watcher. I have a problem with that. Is Mrs. Jennings aware he is a member of that dangerous organization of voyeurs?"

"Why should a group of historians bother you so much? Unless you have something to hide..." White addressed Duncan in a tone that was usually reserved for the village idiot.

"We all have something to hide, Mr. MacLeod. We must hide what we are in order to survive." White waited for MacLeod to agree with him, but Duncan did not. "You can't possibly be that naive about the peril The Watchers put us in, can you? If you are, then you're as dangerous as the damned Watchers. Someone should put you out of the game before you inadvertently start a 21st century witch hunt! Should the unthinkable happen and some moron lets mortals in general find out about us..." White lowered his voice to a growl. "In the end there will be none instead of one. We will be no better than they are, all our power lost, wasted..."

The Highlander moved closer to White and whispered ominously. "Are you challenging me, White?" Before he could get an answer, Deborah was at White's side looking frantic.

"Have you seen Bonnie? I can't find her anywhere."

"Take it easy Deborah. She probably went off with some friends. Or maybe she went out in the yard to get some fresh air and away from us grownups for a minute." Duncan didn't see any reason to panic.

"You obviously have not been around Bonnie recently, Mr. MacLeod." White said in a patronizing manner. "Stepping out for some air with her current lot of friends is enough to send any caring parent into a state of hysteria."

Maggie joined them.

"What's wrong?" She asked the Whites.

"Bonnie seems to have slipped off." Duncan answered for them since White was too busy consoling Deborah and Deborah was too busy falling apart to answer Maggie's question.

"Don't worry, Mrs. White. I'm sure I can find her. I've gotten pretty good at locating Bonnie lately. {Practice does make perfect, Maggie thought to herself.} "Duncan would you drive?" Maggie's confidence did more for Deborah than all White's hand patting and 'There, there's' could ever do.

"Do you really think it will be that easy to find her?"

"She's only been gone a few minutes. How far could she have gotten?" Maggie kept the fact that she'd heard a motor cycle peal out a few minutes ago to herself. She knew that information would only cause more grief.

"Okay, Maggie. Let's go." Duncan had his keys and their jackets. He gave Deborah a quick peck on the cheek. "We'll be back before you're ready to serve the birthday cake." Duncan, Maggie and Joe quickly left the party to retrieve the guest of honor.

DEVIL'S BACKBONE, A COUNTRY ROAD OUTSIDE SEACOUVER

"Turn left now. Slow down. She's very close by." Maggie sat in the back seat next to an amazed Joe Dawson.

They soon came to a cow pasture. Off in the distance a motorcycle was parked under a tree. The silhouette of a pair of lovers lay sprawled beside it, oblivious to the cold ground, the approaching car or the wind whipping them. They were not aware of anything but each other.

"How did you do that?" Joe asked, clearly impressed. Maggie shrugged.

"I can always detect other Immortals long before they can detect me. It gives me the chance to be gone before anyone knows I was ever there. AND I saw the skid marks at the foot of the driveway that went to the right and thought 'If I were sixteen and controlled by raging hormones where would I be headed..."

"Whoa! Back up a minute. Bonnie is an Immortal?" Joe was shocked.

"No, not yet. But she probably will be. Keeping that girl in one piece is a next to impossible job. Thanks Duncan." Duncan beamed a better-you-than-me grin in reply.

"Okay. So how did you find Bonnie?"

"Since Bonnie isn't immortal yet the feeling is a little weak and kind of, well... It's really hard to explain. Let's just say I use a variation of my 'early warning' sense, only reversed, going toward it- instead of away from it like I usually do." Joe nodded. It made sense. As much as anything else made sense.

He thought of Kip's allergic reaction to other Immortals, sneezing every time one was within striking distance, and figured {Why couldn't one immortal be more sensitive than the rest to another immortals approach?}. Most people could never even begin to understand the work of Einstein, yet Einstein was not more or less human because of his greater intellect. He was just one end of the spectrum. Besides, Maggie could use any and every edge she could get in the game.

"With that talent of yours, I knew you'd be the perfect choice to watch over Bonnie. If anyone could keep track of Deborah and Harry's wild child, it would be you." Duncan explained.

"The blind are supposed to have exceptional hearing because they rely on that sense more. I guess it's the same sort of thing with me. I can't fight but I can track any Immortal for you."

Duncan hated to be reminded of Maggie's disadvantages in the game. She was so much older, physically, than any immortal he'd known. She was barely up to his shoulder and was so slight of build he could pick her up and toss her across the room like a rag doll. But it didn't seem to bother her that she had such handicaps.

"Yes. I am a woman of many talents. Just don't ask me to sing, especially if you've got a weak stomach." Maggie joked. But it was truth said in jest. She did have a natural hypersensitivity to other immortals that came in very handy but singing was NOT her forte.

Even before her first death and the injury to her throat, Maggie was known for her caterwauling. Her singing voice was even worse now. It sounded like a bullfrog landing on hot asphalt whenever she attempted to sing.

"Sister Carol, St. Michael's reining queen of diplomacy, took me aside after mass one Sunday to inform me that God could hear me sing from my heart and that I needn't put a strain on my voice {Or the ears of the other parishioners, Duncan thought.} by singing out loud. She said I could still 'sing my praises to the lord, in silence.'" Duncan smiled in spite of himself at Maggie's dead-on impersonation of the very proper Sister Carol.

"I'd be happy to do the singing for you- any time you want to do the dancing for me." The blush on Maggie's cheeks and the glint in Joe's eye told Duncan there was a in that seemingly innocent offer Joe made. Duncan cleared his throat to get their attention and pointed to the young, preoccupied, lovers.

"Shouldn't we be bringing Bonnie back to the party?"

Duncan, Maggie and Joe all gawked at the twisting pile of adolescent flesh for a moment.

"Sweet sixteen and never been kissed." Joe chuckled. "Guess that will never be said about Bonnie."

"At least we don't have to worry about her getting pregnant." Maggie left Duncan and Joe stunned into silence by her candid remark as she set about breaking up Bonnie's al fresco party before it went from a PG13 to an R rating.

BONNIE'S BEDROOM

Duncan stood in the doorway of Bonnie's room. It was a hodgepodge mixture of stuffed animals, clothing, trophies, photos of friends, shoes, sports equipment, CD sound system, dolls, and books all strewn about as though a hurricane had recently blown through. A typical teenage girls room, a no-mans-land between childhood and adulthood.

"So when does the red cross arrive to help with the clean up and search for survivors?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes at Duncan's attempt at humor, threw herself on her bed and turned her back to him.

"This is my room and I don't want you in it."

"Okay. But I think we should talk about what happened tonight." Duncan stayed in the doorway.

"Nothing happened tonight. Thanks to you and Maggie the human blood hound!"

"In time I think you'll be grateful we showed up when we did."

"Grateful? It was humiliating!" A red faced Bonnie sprang out of bed to confront Duncan. "Do you even remember what it's like to be my age? Do you?" Duncan was about to answer but Bonnie didn't give him a chance.

"Try being treated like a child when you don't feel like one. People always telling you what you can and can't do, where you should and shouldn't be."

"Maybe, if you start to behave like a mature and responsible adult, you'll be treated like one. Riding off on a motorcycle- without a helmet I might add, in the middle of your own birthday party without telling anyone was hardly mature and responsible."

"Mature and responsible? You mean like my Mom?" Duncan had no answer for that. "You know getting older doesn't necessarily make someone wiser. Just because she's been around a few years longer she gets to call all the shots and parade me around like some prize poodle for all her friends?"

"What are you talking about, Bonnie? Your mother was throwing a birthday party for you."

"Did you see even one person my age? She invited who she wanted and none of my friends! Then she tells me she's taking me out of St. Michael's!" Bonnie's eyes began to well up but fought the tears.

Looking at her he realized he had forgotten what it was like to be a teenager. And thankfully so. Even with the best of situations, being that awkward half child-half adult creature was alienating and painful. Bonnie needed her friends to help her through it. Friends that were suffering through the same agonizing metamorphosis. It also didn't help that England was not full of happy memories for Bonnie. Deborah, once again, was not doing what was best for her daughter, but what was best for Deborah.

St. Michael's was the only stable, secure place Bonnie had known since her father died. No matter what her mother was going through, her friends and the sisters at St. Michael's were always there, always kind- and always sober. She grew to love them. They were family. Duncan understood what she must be going through at the thought of leaving them all behind.

"I'll talk to your mother, Bonnie." The words had no sooner left his lips when Bonnie let out a high pitched squeal that would wake the dead.

"You're the best Uncle a girl could ever have! Thanks." Bonnie jumped on Duncan, showering him with baby kisses before he could finish what he was going to say.

"Hold it." He pinned her arms down to her sides after prying them from his neck. "I can't promise anything. Your mother might not listen to me. She may have a good reason for wanting to change your school."

"Sure she does, a good reason for her and Keith. They want to play Lord and Lady of the Manor and they want to drag me along. Well, I don't want to go! And they can't make me go."

"And you'll make them miserable any way you can, hoping they won't want to take you anymore. Is that it?"

Bonnie's anger dissolved into tears. Duncan sat on the edge of Bonnie's canopy bed and put his arm around her shoulder. He looked down at Bonnie. Her thin grownup facade crumbled and fell away. She was a child again, hurt and vulnerable. Bonnie hugged her porcelain doll, a child's toy crushed against a woman's breast.

"Is that Betty?" He pointed to the doll and Bonnie nodded.

"It was the last gift my father gave me. It wasn't even my birthday or anything. He saw this doll and thought I'd like it. So he bought it for me." Bonnie smoothed the doll's hair. "Dad was so sweet, always thinking about me and Mom, always surprising us with gifts." She carefully put the doll back on the shelf.

Duncan noticed the framed photograph on Bonnie's night stand. He remembered taking the picture. Harry, Deborah and a very young Bonnie were laughing. No one smiled into the camera though, because they were all smiling at each other. Bonnie saw him staring at the photo and picked it up.

"We were so happy then." She stroked the glass lovingly. "I still miss him as much as ever. Maybe even more. But it's worse for Mom. She was never the same after he died. It was like someone ripped out her heart and buried it with Dad." Bonnie put the photo down. "I don't know if I ever want to love someone that much." She added in a whisper.

"But she has someone now. She remarried."

"Keith? She doesn't love him."

"What makes you say that?"

"I may have only been six when my father died, but I'll never forget what my parents were like together. It felt so good to watch them, to see how much they loved each other. Have you watched Mom with Keith? They have nothing even close to that."

"There are different kinds of love, Bonnie. You can't compare what your mother and father had to what your mother and Keith have."

"Oh, there's no comparison. You're right there."

Bonnie had gone from a vulnerable, frightened little girl to an observant, insightful adult all in the space of one mercurial minute. Duncan did not envy Bonnie's adolescence. He didn't dare imagine the torture she would endure trapped in that whirlwind of emotion for an eternity. Bonnie had to be spared that fate. He would find a way to talk Deborah into leaving Bonnie at St. Michael's where she was safe.

JOE'S BAR AFTER HOURS

"Maggie, what do you think of Keith White? I know you've only just met him, but what's your first impression?" Joe had returned to the table with a bottle of Glenfinnan and two glasses as Duncan posed his question.

"I don't trust him. What about you, Joe." She smiled up at Joe as he set the glasses on the table and sipped her club soda.

"Well, I hate to make snap judgments, but that guy makes my flesh crawl!" Joe poured drinks for the Highlander and himself. "You sure I can't fix you something a bit stronger, Maggie? I keep the place pretty well stocked. I'm sure I'd have something you'd like."

"Oh," Maggie said, a little flustered. "I'm sure too, Joe." She slid her hand over his accidentally spilling her drink all over the table and him. "I'm such a clutz! Let me get that." Maggie jumped up.

"It's okay, no damage done. It's only club soda." She grabbed some napkins from the table to blot the soda, which had landed in some awkward places. Maggie froze for a moment when she realized Joe was not an inanimate piece of furniture to be wiped up. He was a man, with natural reactions to a females wandering hands.

Duncan was starting to get the uncomfortable feeling that three was a crowd. He really wanted to leave the two of them alone, but he had to ask Joe the usual favor. It was starting to get monotonous.

"Joe, I hate to always impose on your Watcher connections, but..."

"But you'd like to know what we have on his Lordship, Keith White. Yeah, I figured as much. I stopped by the phone on my way to get the glasses. I've got people working on it right now. You'll know when I know." Though he was talking to Duncan, his eyes never left Maggie.

That was all Duncan needed to hear. He finished his drink in one quick gulp, slammed down the glass, picked up his jacket and was half-way out the door before he bothered to say goodbye. Not that they noticed. He wondered on the way home exactly how long it would take before they realized he'd left.

DUNCAN'S LOFT

The elevator came up as Duncan poured his orange juice. He knew it was Joe. He must have found out something very important for him to come over this early. Duncan waited, not the least bit surprised to find Joe standing there with Maggie.

"Aren't you two up bright and early?" Duncan grinned at them. They looked so right together. He had to give Amanda credit. She had made an excellent match. He invited them in.

"Can I fix you some breakfast?"

"No thanks. We've been up for hours."

Duncan noticed a mark on Joe's cheek, just below his ear.

"Nick yourself shaving?" He pointed to the red spot. Joe tried to wipe it off but missed.

"Right there." Duncan reached over and rubbed it off. "My mistake. It's not blood, just lipstick." He smiled at the sheepish grin on Joe's face.

"I have a report on our friend, Keith White." The grin disappeared.

"You're looking very serious, Joe. What did you find out?"

"Ever hear of Calico Jack?"

Duncan nodded.

"Ever hear of Anne Bonny?"

"They were both pirates in the early 1700's."

"And Anne Bonny was Calico Jack's, a.k.a. Keith White's lover- and mentor."

"She's one of us? How can that be? She and Mary Reed got out of a hanging by claiming to be pregnant."

"Mary Reed was pregnant and died in prison of a fever. Anne Bonny just claimed to be pregnant. Remember medical science wasn't exactly state of the art back then. They'd stick leeches on you to cure anemia."

"Don't remind me. Okay, so she wasn't pregnant." "Right. Her father was rich. Apparently the mother, a maid for the family, found Anne as an infant and passed her off as his child. He ran off to America to marry her and raised Anne never knowing the truth. Anyway, she had some friends dig White up after he was hanged for piracy and buried in an unmarked grave by the beach. Then had him wait for her."

"Joe, Immortals have been a lot worst things than pirates in the past." He wished Joe would get to the point.

"Let him finish, Duncan, and you'll understand."

"Okay, but let's skip the history lesson. Is a danger to Bonnie?"

"He's definitely a danger to Bonnie!" Maggie answered.

"Yeah, he's got this whole Scarlet Pimpernel thing going on. You know, pretending to be this limp-wristed fop that wouldn't hurt a fly, then leading a secret life that is more in keeping with his Calico Jack persona." Joe started and Maggie finished.

"The dangerous aspect being that Anne Bonny spoiled him. He liked having a woman do all the fighting for him." Joe picked up the story from there. Duncan was starting to feel like a spectator at Wimbledon.

"When Anne got tired of his act and ditched him, White went out and recruited another female Immortal to play bodyguard for him. The problem with this set up was that none of the other women were ever Anne Bonny's equal. They all wound up loosing their heads defending him." Maggie continued.

"And he would take the victor's Quickening while they were still too weak to fight. Not even caring what happened to these women. They were nothing to him. He used them."

"So that whole bit about never leaving England was all part of his act?"

"Yes. He pretends to be holed up in his estate when he is out on one of his raids. Makes a pretty good cover. White is great at manipulating people too. He studies his chosen target for quite a while so that he knows the exact tactic to win her over. These young Immortals don't know what hit them. He doesn't want them to know, either. White is their only source of information about their immortality. And the truth doesn't always suit him. They end up totally confused about what they are and how to exist in their new world." Joe was clearly disgusted with what he'd learned about White.

"I get the feeling there's more." Duncan said, but he already had a strong suspicion where this story was going.

"White didn't always pick a woman that was already Immortal. If he stumbled across a young girl with the potential to be an Immortal, he would worm his way into her life. Then he'd hire someone to cause her first death. Usually staging it so that he looked like he was trying to save her, but wasn't a good enough fighter to gain her trust and sympathy. Or else he'd cause an accident. Then the girls were on their own. He hasn't the first clue as to how to train them. Besides, White didn't care if they lost their heads. If one died, he got an easy quickening then went out and found another girl." Joe paused and Maggie grabbed Duncan's arm.

"He used Deborah to get into Bonnie's life. It's Bonnie he wants. White is going to get her killed. We've got to get Bonnie away from him. Today. She is too young to dragged into this life Duncan!"

"I know."