The woman paused in the bookstore aisle, quietly looking around her. The bookstore was a chain bookstore, but one she preferred. She could sit down on the chairs meant for browsers and scan around for people who engaged in things other than buying and sel ling books.

No one was watching her. She guessed that they had lost her track. Throughout Boston, and Albuquerque, and smaller cities like Pasadena, California, and Ashland, Oregon, she had not seen anyone inconspicuously following her.

She wished that she could completely relax, enjoy a book, get on with her life, but she knew that unless she did this one thing, she would never have peace. Even if the choice she made ensured that she would not have a chance of being left alone again.

Greer got up out of the chair and left the bookstore, calmly wending her way towards the entrance of the mall. She had planned her route carefully, but carried the bus schedules just in case. She was glad that the rain had stopped, and the Seattle skyline would be splendid once it cleared up.

She walked to the nearby bus stop, her gaze absentmindedly on the monorail track that ran from the mall to the park where the Space Needle stood. She paused suddenly, noting the chill down her back which meant that one of her Immortal kind was near.

A figure on a red motorcycle attracted her attention. He had been moving smoothly on the street and she had apparently noted him as peripheral movement. He had caught her attention as he stopped. She was reaching for her sword under her trenchcoat when he pulled his helmet off.

A young man, not over nineteen, gazed around. She almost gasped as she recognized him. Trying not to show any recognition in her face, she looked at him, as he stared back. He parked his motorcycle and approached her. "I'm Richie Ryan," he said, plainly challenging her.

"Greer Lewis," she responded, taking a look at her watch. "And I have a bus to catch, and a friend to see, so we can continue this _later_."

Her bluff worked. Richie, apparently surprised, backed off. Greer walked the last few feet to the bus stop and watched him leave on his motorcycle. She saw the one assigned to Richie. He paused for a moment, looking at her and deciding whether or not to f ollow Richie or report her.

He finally decided to go after Richie, and she relaxed and caught her bus. She stared out the window and gazed at nothing. The last time she had seen him was a year ago, in this very same city. She remembered sitting at the cafe, carefully watching and me ntally recording what the woman a few tables down had been doing. The woman had risen abruptly, and wandered along until she came along to an antique store. Greer had not followed inside, but she watched the events through the window and noted the young m an, the mortal young man, who had been minding the store.

The _formerly_ mortal young man, she reminded herself. The information she had was a year old, and certainly the bulk of the information she had on that particular case was on the Immortal she had been watching, a woman named Felicia Martins.

Her bus left her a block from where she wanted to be. She walked casually down the block, stopping in the middle to gaze at the bookstore. Putting a hand on the door, she pushed it open and walked in. Besides the staff, there was no one else in the store. She stopped before the counter and cleared her throat.

The man looked up. She did not recognize him, and supposed that the previous clerk, a young man named Robert, had moved on. "May I help you?"

"Yes," she said, and smiled. "I'm looking for Joe Dawson. He used to run this place."

"He still does," the man responded. "Unfortunately, he's out at the moment. Business."

"Well, then I guess I'll catch him next time I'm in town, then," Greer said, sighing.

"If you'll tell me your name, I'll tell him you dropped by."

"Thanks," she responded. "I'm Greer Lewis."

The man's jaw dropped. He hurried off to the back of the shop, to the office behind the curtain. Greer nearly laughed in amusement. _I guess the poor fellow isn't used to talking with Immortals,_ she thought. _Joe wouldn't have missed a beat._

While she patiently waited for the man to come back, Greer examined the history titles. She looked up when he returned. He still looked rather shocked, his pale face looking even paler above his dark blue jacket and ghastly purple tie. "He's coming. He sa ys to wait for him here."

She nodded, and he moved to ostensibly rearrange some books, although she noticed that it was only to keep as much of the store between them as possible. She obliged him, trying to keep him relatively calm until Joe had a chance to talk to him. He needed to be reminded of what he was, because he was doing a very good job of breaking his training. If it was another Immortal in the shop, the man might have been dead by now.

The front door opened, and both she and the clerk stared at the figure in the doorway. Joe Dawson, a smile decorating his face under the black-and-grey hair, stepped inside.

"Greer! How are you?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she replied, a smile forming on her face in response to his. He was just what she needed to cheer up her spirits.

"Want to take a drive?" he asked.

"Gladly," she told him. He nodded, and held out his hand. She took it, and he grasped it firmly.

"Jasper, I'll be a while," he called to the man. Greer saw the man sit down at the desk out of the corner of her eye as Joe led her out the door.

* * *

Joe drove them to a lovely little park. She remained silent throughout the ride, her head turned towards the scenery progressing outside the car window. Still, she had caught Joe's gaze upon her once or twice, and she knew he was committing all that he co uld into memory.

As they walked through the park, she was the one who asked the first question. "Joe, does everybody know that I'm Immortal?"

Joe shook his head. "Just any supervisor you've worked with over your time with us, and their staffs. We took the chance that you'd come back to someone you'd worked with before."

She laughed. "I didn't even think of that. I remembered hearing that you had talked with an Immortal, and that you'd told him about us."

"Yes. I did," he said. "Not really by choice. That's when the renegades were trying to kill Duncan MacLeod. He had to straighten me out as to what was really going on."

She nodded. "You'll have to tell me that one, sometime."

"I will. But first I have about a million questions to ask you."

"Well, then, you better start."

"You don't have any reservations about telling me?"

"Well, as much as I would like to go away and never be found by any of us again, I feel that I shortchanged everyone by not being able to tell at the time what had happened. I'll tell you what I can."

"OK," he said. "I'm familiar with the reports we have, both Robert Slevin's and your own oral ones, but we know you weren't telling the truth after what happened in that warehouse."

"Well," she said, pausing to think about how to go about telling her story, "what happened was that I had climbed up some boxes to get a better view. I missed a step up, and had to grab a cable, which I found out too late was live.

"When I woke up, Alberta had laid me out comfortably on the floor. She told me I was Immortal, and then told me the rules. It was quite an experience. She then took me home. The next day, she came back to start training me, because of course there was the other Immortal, Leland, around.

"She managed to give me some training, but she discovered along the way what I had been doing in the warehouse, and started avoiding me. She went to hunt Leland down, but he found me first and challenged me. I was forced to fight. Thankfully I won. Unfort unately I spooked poor Robert along the way."

"And you didn't tell anyone that you had become Immortal." Joe said softly.

"How was I supposed to have told them?" Greer responded in quiet anger. _How idiotic can he be?_ she thought. "Maybe because I didn't want to be watched. I know when we are there. Ignorance is definitely bliss! But I will never have that bliss."

She tugged her left sleeve up, exposing the blue tattoo on her wrist. "I can never forget I'm a Watcher, one of us, but the situation has changed. I'm pulled in two different directions at once. My loyalties are mixed, have been mixed ever since I woke up on that warehouse floor."

"You're here," he said, catching her arm with his free hand before she had a chance to pull her sleeve back down. "That counts for something. You said you wanted to be somewhere else, somewhere where you could hide."

"I'm a fool with a too strong sense of duty, then," she said. "I was a part of our organization for nearly thirteen years. You don't shrug that off in a day."

"You didn't sound this bitter last time I saw you. Are you sure you haven't changed that much?"

"My personality didn't change a bit. Have you studied the records? I have, a bit. It's mostly the physical structure that changes."

"Yes," he said. He cocked his head thoughtfully, gazing at her. He released her wrist. "Well, now we know for sure that tattoos survive the change."

She sighed, and brushed her sleeve down angrily, hiding her wrist. _What are you up to, Joe?_ she thought, looking at him.

"You said you had how many days of training by the time you fought Leland?" he asked.

"Three or so."

Joe looked thoughtful. "Was it anything like when you were here last?" he asked.

"A little. Mind you, I didn't get a good look at them during that time. That warehouse wasn't one of my favourite warehouses."

Joe seemed to be deciding something. Then he looked over at her and smiled. "How would you like another teacher?" he asked.

She looked at him startled, unable to answer. He took her hand, and lead her on the path towards the car.

* * *

"DeSalvo's Martial Arts?" Greer asked, staring at the sign on the building. Joe stood silently beside her, grinning mysteriously. "Come on, Joe, who's the owner?"

"You'll see," he said, leading her into the building. Greer let him lead her in. Just before they reached a set of doors flanked by windows, she froze, automatically reaching for her sword under her coat.

Joe smiled, and plowed his way into the double doors. Greer sighed, and followed him.

As she cleared the doors, Greer saw two men. She recognized both of them. One was Richie, who was no doubt startled to see her again. The other one was Duncan MacLeod. The only change that she could see in him since the last year was that his hair was sho rter and he wore it loose.

"Back so soon, Joe?" Duncan asked, evidently somewhat amused. "I saw you just an hour ago!"

"Only because I wanted you to meet someone," Joe said. "MacLeod, this is Greer Lewis, the one I told you about. Greer, this Duncan MacLeod."

"Georgina, actually," Greer added. "But everyone calls me Greer."

"Hello, Greer," Duncan said warmly. "Richie just finished telling me about your encounter this morning."

"She's had maybe three days of training. She's a good person, and I think you should help her survive."

Duncan took a good long look at Greer. "I'll do it this time, Joe." "Chalk it up to another favor I owe you." Duncan frowned, but said, "I will." Joe smiled, gave Greer a friendly nod, and headed out the door, leaving Greer alone with the two men.

Duncan turned to Greer and asked, "What do you know about me?"

Greer shrugged, to keep looking calm and keep herself from stuttering. Inside, she trembled at talking to Duncan, who Joe had praised so highly. "Not much, and apparently most of it's out of date. Joe praised you very highly, and I was very much impressed with what I saw of you. You weren't living here, you owned an antique store, and I don't see Tessa around here." Greer knew she had said something wrong the instant Duncan's face clouded. "What?"

"Tessa died a few months ago."

"I'm sorry, I hadn't heard," she said. "We individually don't know everything that's going on in the Immortal world. I've observed a lot of Immortals. I don't keep track of all of them."

She could see that Duncan wanted to ask a lot of questions, as Joe had, but he restrained himself for the moment. To escape staring at him, she instead stared at her hands.

"Well," Duncan said thoughtfully. She looked up. He was all business. "Let me see what you've been taught."

He motioned to the center of the room. She eyed it nervously, then took her trenchcoat off. She left it on the bench at the side of the room, taking her sword with her.

* * *

Greer sat down on the couch in Duncan's apartment, relaxing herself while trying not to get sweat all over the couch. She held a glass of orange juice in her hand. Nearby, Richie sat down on a chair, sipping his, and Duncan leaned against the wall.

She looked at the apartment, noting with awe the tapestries and other antiques. _Too bad it's only one room,_ she thought. _I could easily live here._

She knew that Duncan's eyes were upon her. She looked at him and gave him a slight smile. "Thanks for taking me on," she said.

"You're welcome," he said. His eyes glittered suspiciously. "Why did he bring you to me?"

"I don't know," she said truthfully. "He asked me suddenly how much training I'd gotten. It was out of the blue."

"Yet he seems to know you well."

"I think I've seen him maybe once or twice. I was in training when I first met him. He fit my view as a handsome man, and I suppose that I had a little crush on him. Nothing I'd dare confide, of course.

She blushed. "I wasn't of any interest to him at all during that time, or the other time we met. I like him. He's a fine man. But I think the main part of his interest in me at the moment is because I'm Immortal.

Her eyes dropped, but not before seeing Duncan nodding to himself. "I still can't resist him. I think he's playing on my feelings. I feel so at home, like I was still part of the group, even when I know, somehow, that he's using me."

"He has that effect on people," Duncan said.

"He's good at it," she agreed. "Of course, sometimes it has to be done. Prevent yourself from being killed, or get a bit of information, by playing sympathetic to the subject."

She knew that she saw a glitter of sympathy somewhere in Duncan's features before her last statement caused the wall to crash down again. "Sorry," she muttered loudly.

"What do you think about your group now?" Richie asked.

"I don't like it very much right now! I can't totally hate it, since I've got so many friends in there, and thirteen years of my life in it. I came here to fulfil a final obligation to them, to let go. I should have, except I can't. This morning, before I came here, I was talking to Joe and I realized that I kept using 'we' instead of you when talking to him about the group, even though my membership really ended when I died."

"So you're not going to report anything that happens here?"

"Not on purpose, no. I have to warn you, our training is very strong. I may give away things that I may not intend to."

"Try not to do that," Duncan said, and she saw the warning in his eyes.

* * *

A phone call woke her from sleep the next morning. "Hello?" she said, trying to bring herself to full conciousness.

"Good morning, Greer," Joe's cheerful voice rang out from the receiver.

"Joe, how'd you find me - no, I know how. How did I miss them?"

"You were tired?" Joe suggested. "How was it with Duncan MacLeod?"

"Tiring. Same way it was with Alberta."

"It won't kill you."

"No, it won't do that, but sometimes it feels like it."

"How are you getting along?"

"Fine, right now. I think he's pleased, as far as I go."

"You think you can stand him as a teacher?"

"Joe, it's not a matter of me standing him. He's a good man, and he's very obviously taught before. It's more a matter of building trust - and I know I have started out on the wrong foot."

"What do you mean?" Joe asked, obvious puzzlement in his voice.

"He is *not* going to accept me, Joe," she said forcefully. "No matter how good I am, no matter how much good I do, he will always distrust me because of the thirteen years I spent watching. I wouldn't be surprised if all immortals steer clear of me on th at factor. I feel so much alone when I'm with other immortals, whether they may know about me or not."

"Look, it's not because you were one of us, he just doesn't let people get close to him, especially after what happened to Tessa."

"Tessa might be part of it, but there is another part, I can see it. I may not be able to describe it, but I can sure see it," she said, waving her free arm in the air to express her frustration.

"Give the relationship time to build. I know you're a good person. I think he can see that too."

"Joe, I appreciate what you're doing, but somehow I don't think you're doing this completely out of the goodness of your heart."

"Greer," he said, "I am doing this because I consider you a friend. I don't want you to die."

"It's part of the Game, Joe. There's nothing either of us can do about it. And you'll forgive my suspicion if I think you want to keep me here to make sure you can keep an eye on me."

There was a silence on Joe's end. Finally, he said, "Do you want a ride over? If you give me a moment, I can drive you."

"Thanks, Joe. I'll be waiting. Bye."

"Goodbye."

Greer quietly put the phone down on the receiver. _Sometimes an unrelenting optimist is too much to take, especially at this time in the morning,_ she thought, getting out of bed for another day of torture.

* * *

Joe arrived twenty minutes later. Greer greeted him a little sullenly. "I think we need to have a little talk this morning before you get over to the gym. Seems like something happened to you over there that you're suddenly accusing me of all sorts of thi ngs."

She strapped herself in before replying. "It was before the gym that I started having my doubts, Joe. It's only after you set me up with Duncan that I started wondering if I should pay attention to my doubts." He paused before answering. "I'll admit some of it is trained reaction. You're an Immortal. Whether or not you like it, your history must be maintained. We've been doing this generation after generation, century after century. Just because you've been one of us doesn't mean that we treat you any different."

"Why don't you let me just report, and leave? It's not like if we lose an Immortal, we lose them forever. It may be another generation before we find them again, but we do find them. Shoot, I'm saying 'them' again."

"Pardon me?"

She decided not to explain, and instead said, "Joe, there's another reason why I came back."

"Why?" he said. He looked confused for a moment.

"I think that we have another group of renegades, a group that's more ancient than the one that acted up a few months back."

"How are you sure that it's not the same group?"

"Well, it could be except for one thing. If I've got this right, our recent group of renegades was concerned with just killing every Immortal in sight. The records I've run across deal with only select Immortals being killed. If I've got the pattern right , they just deal with Immortals who know about us."

"Which would include you."

"Of course."

"Have you considered that you might be reading too much into the records?"

"If I was reading too much into the records, I wouldn't be worrying about every Watcher that I see. With everything that's currently happening, that group could easily start again."

"Look, we haven't had any mysterious deaths of Immortals recently." "You're sure about that? I remember a fellow named Bert Royce where we didn't record a Quickening."

"All that means is we missed it."

"Yeah. That could be an explanation, and that's what I originally thought it was. But I also discovered the death of a Watcher named Arthur Collier, who was watching him at the time. Or he was. I heard he was kicked out, though"

"I know him. He was kicked out for contacting an Immortal."

"So that was it. I guessed something of the sort. This means we're both in danger."

"I don't think so. You're paranoid. Your imagination is running away with you."

"Call me paranoid, then. Someone knows what is happening. Someone could have even seen the records. Ask around. You might find it."

"Look, Greer, I'll tell you what. If you stay for a couple more days and continue training with Duncan, I'll see what I can do to set your mind at ease."

"All right," she said. "Agreed. I'll try to make sure Duncan doesn't throw me out."

"He won't," Joe said with confidence, as they reached the gym.

* * *

Later that day, Greer sat on the bench in the gym. She was still in her fencing outfit. She was gratified to learn that Richie was not that far ahead of her. He did have the advantage of being in one place, with a teacher, when she had been struggling to practice what Alberta had taught her when she was on the road. She knew he was envious that she had taken her first head. However, she also knew that it was an experience that she would have gladly traded.

She resisted glancing through the windows for the hundredth time in ten minutes. _Why can't I be free?_

The elevator door opened, and she saw Richie come out of it. She slowly rose, and met him at the center of the room.

"Hey, Greer, you're still in that outfit? Mac's going to be down any minute. He's taking us out to practice."

Greer gave him a slight smile. She said, "I'll be a minute."

"What's wrong?"

She nodded towards the windows. "I was watching for them."

"Them?" Richie asked, puzzled.

"You know, _them_. The ones that watch us."

"You mind them?"

"Very much, I'm afraid. I may have been a Watcher once, but I'm sure that I don't want to be followed around by people with blue tattoos for the rest of my life," she said bitterly.

"Let me get this straight. You're worried about them watching you?"

"Well, I'm sure that while they're not out to kill us, something is probably going on. I don't mean that all of them are evil people trying to exploit us - quite a few of them are also my friends. But you get to wondering, why all of us, keeping such a cl ose eye. I mean, why do we follow so close?"

"Hate to interrupt your musings, but we got to go soon," Richie said. She saw his eagerness to leave the subject.

"You should be worried about them."

"I do worry sometimes, but hey, they don't know about me, and even if they did, Mac says that we can't do anything about them, so ignore them."

"They do."

"They do? Oh, great."

She shrugged coolly, pleased to see that the information had ruffled him. "Sorry to break the news, but I saw one on your tail when I ran into you outside the mall. I supposed I'm hypersensitized to seeing them."

She saw that he looked downed by the news. She gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Well," she said, "I think I'll change now. See you in a few minutes." She headed up the stairs, thankful that the gym was closed that day. She needed the quiet.

* * *

The clearing was beautiful in the sunlight. She liked being there, and was glad that he had this place to work out in. Considering she had been expecting the warehouse, it was a treat.

She and Richie were sitting on the ground, taking a break from practice. She was glad for the rest. Her muscles were sore from practicing so much. Her sword lay nearby, in its scabbard. Though she didn't like using it very much, she knew that it would, so meday, be a part of her.

"You've really got the hang of this," Richie said.

She shrugged. "I've certainly watched enough swordfights. I have some idea of what to do."

"How are things going with Joe?" Duncan asked from nearby. He was tired too, she could tell. She remembered when they were training, and Duncan had not let her get near him. She caught herself nearly crying once or twice, but thought, _Why should I exp ect anything different from him? He has no reason to trust me._

"I don't entirely trust him, but he seems to want to be doing something nice. He is a good man though, no matter his, um, profession."

"Sometimes I wonder if they are good."

"There are good people among us. The ones that would not dream of hurting someone, who spend their lives recording a miracle. I don't mind them so much. It's the ones that mean us harm in one way or another that I really mind."

"Even the good ones," Duncan said slowly, "do wrong."

"I won't argue with you there," Greer said. "I'm sure that what I have done is wrong. I can see that now. But many of us can't. I'm not asking you to trust us. I am just asking that you understand."

Duncan nodded, but the distrust never left his eyes.

"I'm not a Watcher anymore."

"I know," he said. He gazed at her for a few quiet moments.

"What?"

"Do you truly realize that?"

She glared at him. "Look, I've had it! I realize that you've had some problems with the Watchers. Right now, I feel entirely sympathetic. I still cling on, though. Can you understand what it feels like to break from all that you know, because you have cha nged in some way? I didn't want to leave the Watchers, even after my death. They were my life. Now I don't fit with them, and I don't fit in here. You're not helping very much, you know."

Duncan was silent for a moment, and then said simply, "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I am too," she said. She paused for a moment before speaking again. "Duncan?"

"What?"

"Can you do something for me?"

"What do you need, and why?"

"Well," she said, a small smile on her face. "I want Joe to hurry up with what he's doing for me, which is seeing if what I said is true. He's afraid of us arguing, and me disappearing before he has a chance to watch me more. So, he might try dangling som e results in front of my face to entice me to stay. If you and I would have an argument, he would come up with results faster. Would you help me?"

She watched Duncan as he plainly thought about it. "All right, I'll try."

* * *

"Greer? Greer!" a man's voice shouted above the din. Greer swung around fast, nearly whacking her shoulder on the post with the bus stop sign on it.

"Robert?" she asked, making out his shape in the slightly dimming daylight. He was leaning against a parked car. "What are you doing here?"

"A friend of a friend told me that they'd found you here, so I came to see you. And apologize for the incident in the park a couple months ago."

"Well, thank you," she said. She was really at a loss for words.

"Listen, I know this wonderful little coffeeshop here and I'd really like to catch up with you. I'll even pick up the tab."

She laughed. "You better this time, 'little brother'."

He apparently wasn't expecting her response. "Geez, you haven't changed a bit, Greer!"

"I better not have. Let's go."

* * *

Greer smiled at Robert over her coffee. She was happy to be there, just reminiscing with him about old assigments. Robert was smiling back, clearly in a nostalgic mood.

"You looked so terrified! I couldn't believe it!" Greer said, laughing.

"I thought for sure we'd had it. Whatever you said certainly did the trick."

"It was nothing. While you were busy talking to the cops, I told him a sad story about us being lovers who had to elope because Dad didn't approve. He'd done some pretty wildly romantic things over the centuries, and so I thought that he'd go for a pair o f star-crossed lovers. I was right."

"Thankfully."

"Speaking of our assignments, how's Michael?"

"Well, he seemed a little depressed to me. Perhaps after you leave here, you could go see him? He's in Sacramento."

"I will."

He shifted in his chair. "Speaking of the job, I owe you that apology for two months ago. I'm sorry, I was just so scared... I just didn't ever think that I'd see someone I knew in that storm."

Greer shrugged the apology off. "Apology accepted."

"So," he said, leaning forward. "Where've you been for the last two months?"

She wove a hand in the air. "Here and there. I didn't really want to be spotted by anybody."

An interested light shone in his eyes. "Did you encounter any other Immortals along the way?"

"No, I was lucky enough not to. There are still a lot of Immortals around, and the Gathering hasn't really started all that much. Nobody's actively hunting me yet."

"Good," Robert said. He took her hand. "I like you, Greer, I'd like to have you around for a while longer."

"You and me both. I wish I'd some choice in the matter."

"Yeah. Have you had any training?"

"Alberta Barrow was kind enough to train me after she found me."

"Does she know about us?"

"Yes," Greer said gently. "But I told her because I had no choice in the matter. She was threatening to behead me if I didn't tell. So I told. She's not the type to go out and attack us, anyway."

"'Us' us or 'us' them?"

"Us, as in the Watchers us."

"Um, Greer, are you aware that you're not a Watcher anymore?"

"Yes, I am. Does that mean that I shouldn't care?"

"Uh, no."

"Why are you nervous as all get out?" Greer asked, smiling wryly.

He blushed. "How do you know that?"

"Oh, you have this tendency to have a faraway expression when you're nervous and trying to think of what to say next. Especially if you have to ask about something important."

He nodded. "Yeah, I guess it's that obvious, huh?"

"Only to me," she said. "Oh, don't worry, I don't bite."

"I'm not worried," he said, with a little shake of his head. "I trust you. I know you."

"Thanks," she said, moved. "I trust you too."

He nodded. "I'm nervous because I'm not sure what to make of this, but I know that you wouldn't betray your friends. I hope that I would do the same, if it came to that."

"I have no intention of telling any other Immortals about the Watchers, I promise you, my friend. I don't want to lose you either."

He folded his hands together and rested his chin on them. "Greer, What if ... what if you had the chance to become mortal again. Would you take it?"

"You bet I would. I didn't want to be this. I'd gladly become a mortal again."

"I'd be glad to have you back. I'll admit, I can't figure you out now."

"Someday," she said with a frown, "I hope you can. I haven't changed that much."

"And someday the Game will be over."

"Yeah, well at least I wouldn't be followed around by people like the fellow at about the fifth table down. You see him? I really need to have a word with Joe."

She watched him covertly look at the man. "Yes, he's one of ours, all right," he said. "But you realize, he's only doing his job."

"Sometimes I wonder whose job he is doing," Greer said quietly.

"Ours, of course."

"Are you sure?"

"What are you getting at?"

"We've got renegades."

"I know. A couple of months ago, here."

"No, this is a new group."

"I haven't heard of any such group."

"Well, keep an eye out, will you? I'll prove it to you later."

Robert shuddered, presumably at the thought of such a group. "Yeah, it'll be just like old times, right?"

"Right. Glad to work with you again, Rob," she said, grinning. He managed a brief smile in return.

"Yeah. We'll have to be careful, though. I heard that one of us got shot at while doing an observation today."

"Who?"

"Dunno."

She drank the last of her coffee. "I'll ask Joe. He'll know."

He then looked at his watch. "You done? I've got to see someone, but I can give you a ride back to the motel."

"Thanks. It's getting kind of late to take the bus."

* * *

Later that evening, the phone in her motel room rang. "Hello?"

"Hi, Greer," a warm male voice responded.

"Hello, Joe," she responded, a lot less warmly. "Who got shot?"

"I did," he said, his tone changing to a strained frustration. "Before you say anything about a conspiracy, it was accidental. I got in the way of a gang war. And I wasn't hit. I'm fine. Not likely to want to go into that part of town again, but fine."

"Well, you're going to hear about it anyway. How can you be sure that it was a gang war? Anyone can dress up like a gang member and pretend."

"Arguing is useless with you."

"I hope that's good, since I'm in hot water with Duncan."

"What's wrong? He didn't kick you out, did he? I heard the reports. You had quite an argument!"

"I think I upset him, but he's got a good hold on his temper. He didn't kick me out," Greer said. She was glad that Duncan was such a good actor.

"Good. As you said, he is a very good teacher."

"Yes, and significantly more than I deserve."

She heard him sigh a frustrated sigh, then his voice lightened. "I think you better start looking for an apartment. I'll help, if you like."

"No thanks, Joe."

"Well, if you do need help, give me a call."

She felt like giving a frustrated sigh herself. "Joe, the reason I won't need help getting an apartment is that I'm not staying here much longer."

"But you've got to stay! How are you going to get trained?"

"I'll find my own way."

"Greer, what's eating you?"

"Well, for starters, the blond guy in the blue sweatshirt that's been following me around for most of the day."

"He was doing what he was supposed to be doing."

"That's funny, that's what Robert said."

"Well, then, you should listen to him," he said. "I should have thought of that. Didn't even know he was in town until he ran into you. Must be on vacation."

"Yeah, he must be."

"Anything else?"

"Maybe you could cut me some slack? I mean, sometime, if I stay, there could be one of us watching the gym instead of three?"

"Will you stay if I do?"

"I might. Mind you, it's still not as if nobody's observing me at all."

"You'll just have to take it. Reducing I might be able to manage."

"You better manage it," she said. "By the way, did you dig through the records?"

"I did. You know, I didn't find anything to solidify your theory. There doesn't seem to be any such group."

"Well, they've got it well hidden. Trust me, they're there."

"You know you've gotten distinctly paranoid? I mean, people get killed all the time. Arthur Collier died in a car accident. The man who killed him was drunk. He wasn't killed on purpose."

"Oh, yeah, right. Believe me, there is no such thing as paranoid when your fears are true."

"You seem to be so sure the shooting was part of a conspiracy."

"It was. Trust me."

"Stay and convince me, then."

"No, you'll find it yourself, trust me. You're intelligent enough, I think."

"Will you come over before you leave? If I can't convince you to stay, at least I can say goodbye."

"I will. I'll say goodbye to Duncan first, however."

"Goodbye."

"Bye."

* * *

The next morning, Greer packed her bags. It was a good time for her to go, anyway, since she was running low on cash. She hated leaving without any clues, any more proof, but Joe was being very stubborn. If she could only find Michael or any others who mi ght be a little more sympathetic, then she could get farther.

She got onto her first bus. _It is certainly nice to be on my own,_ she thought. She was even happier when the blond Watcher following her realized that he had missed the bus. He gave a look of frustration that almost sent her into spasms of laught er.

She was totally serious, though, by the time she got to DeSalvo's Martial Arts. Duncan was waiting for her, giving her a brief, conspiratorial smile before resuming a frown.

"Good morning, Greer."

"Morning, Duncan."

"Are you ready for today?"

"Well, I need to talk to you for a second, except I don't want to make it a public scene."

Duncan ushered her inside the elevator. As the elevator went up, Duncan turned to her. "How did it go?"

"You should have heard his voice," she said. "It worked like a charm, well, almost. He's convinced I'm paranoid. He didn't find any evidence. Maybe I'll get lucky and I'll leave him with some doubts."

"So you're leaving."

"I'm going to lose them, and then do the best I can to find out what this is all about. I'll try to find some of my very good friends, ones that I think I can trust, and have them help me look in the archives. After convincing them not to report that I'm there of course. I should be able to convince someone of the truth. And if I meet other Immortals, I'm going to warn them. There's too much sneaky stuff going on within our organization."

"Do you have any other plans, any other dreams?"

She touched her fists to her chin and thought. "I think I'd like to go to college. The Watchers recruited me right out of high school and I haven't had anything other than extension courses."

"That's a good idea."

"Speaking of plans," she said, reaching into the pocket of her pants. She withdrew a small white card. "I'd like to keep in touch with you. When I settle down, I'll send you my phone number on one of these."

She gave him the card. He raised an eyebrow. "Georgina Lewis, Sales Representative, Turgetto Industries?"

"I did do some sales work while I was involved. I was quite good at it, in fact."

"I'll take your word for it. Good luck, Greer."

"Thanks, Duncan. Bye."

She took the elevator down to the gym and got out, hopefully seeming quite downcast. It was not hard to do, especially when she walked into the hall and could no longer sense Duncan.

As she walked out the front door of the building, a dark-haired man, about her age, came up to her. He exposed his wrist in one easy motion, and made a signal that meant "help." She followed him into the alley nearby. She thought to ask him what he needed , but as he turned around, something hit her in the back of the head and everything went black.

* * *

"Unnh..." Greer groaned. She opened her eyes into an empty white room, empty except for the man sitting on the chair with her trenchcoat next to him. He was the same dark-haired man she had met on the street. He wore dark pants with a light blue shirt and a navy blue tie. She was on a mattress that sagged, with a pillow behind her head. There was a slight pain in the middle of her torso. She looked there and saw a great deal of dried blood on her shirt, with a hole in it over her heart.

"Hello," the man said personably. "Sorry about your shirt, but I wanted to make sure you'd stay out."

"Who are you?" Greer asked. She had a bad feeling that she really knew.

"Aaron Morris, at your service," he said, affecting a bow from his chair. "Apologies for the accommodations, but you won't be here long."

"What do you want?"

"I think you know. You've been on my trail, after all."

"Well, since I'm the only one that thinks you're active. You hide very well. I can't get any evidence on you"

"Thanks, I'll remember that. Next time, however, I'll wipe the records. I don't want anyone to get as close as you have, even if you haven't gotten very close."

"You killed Arthur Collier and Bert Royce," she said flatly.

He nodded. "And no one had guessed until you brought it up. Who would think to associate a routine part of the Game, and an auto accident?"

"And you tried to kill Joe Dawson. Were you going to try for Duncan next?"

"Yes, I tried. One of my people missed. Fortunately the gang cover worked. I figured that since you weren't going to stay, I might want to continue my original plan and get rid of him, MacLeod, and Ryan."

"And I was a fortunate circumstance."

"Yes, I figured that it would be good to get rid of you."

She pressed on. "So you're going to get rid of us, or what?"

"I'll do what I have to. You can't imagine how much of a danger you've become."

She lay down again on the mattress, trying to think of a way to delay him while she thought of a plan to escape, maybe even a way to persuade him that he was wrong. "Do you really know what it means to be in the Game? I know we can report it, but I couldn 't even guess until I became a part of it."

He raised an eyebrow at the "we." "I'll defer to your judgement," he said. He got up and settled onto the floor next to her. "Are you happy, being what you are?"

"What?"

"I mean, do you want to go on like this?"

"I think I have very little choice in the matter."

"I think that you have a choice," he said quietly. "I can help you be free."

"By dying?"

"Well, that seems to be the only way to get rid of the curse you've acquired."

"I don't see it as a curse," she said. _How did he know?_

He shrugged. "How will you feel about it in 20 years? In 50? You will not age, but everyone else will. You'll watch people die, your loved ones and others."

"It's my choice to live, and I'll take it as I can."

"Oh, and can you take forming a new identity, moving on? I know you like to travel, but someday you will settle down and form close relationships."

"Or maybe not."

He folded his hands together, touching them to his chin, like someone contemplating a move in chess. "And can you stand all those years, whether you travel, or stay in one place, with people forever following you, forever watching you?"

"I think I can handle that," Greer said, trying not to shift. _I must not give him an inch,_ she thought, close to despair.

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? My colleague, Robert, said that you were rather discomfited by seeing one of us observe you."

She lost her carefully-held composure. "Robert?" she asked.

He smiled. "You scared him quite a bit."

"I thought he had more strength than that," she retorted.

"Oh, he has quite a bit of strength in all the right places."

"And a lack of brain in all the wrong ones."

"He's loyal. And mortal."

She raised an eyebrow in return. He smiled, like a fox when it sees an available rabbit.

"You're more alone than any Immortal and you know it. You're no longer a Watcher, and your own kind can't accept you."

"I know that's something I didn't tell Robert. How'd you know?"

"Oh, I have a tap on Dawson's phone, courtesy of Jasper."

She slumped. _This is what I get for discussing my fears,_ she thought sadly.

"Don't worry, as I said, I have a way out," Aaron said. He got up, went to her trenchcoat, and removed her sword and scabbard. He also got a bottle out of his jacket. "This stuff will knock out an elephant, so it should work on you. I don't want you to se e the blade coming."

She nodded dumbly as he came up to her. He unscrewed the cap and offered her the bottle. She reached for it, wondering if she should take his offer, then changed direction to grab her sword. He was startled enough to let it go.

She whipped the sword out of the scabbard and hit him across the legs, making him lose his balance. The blood flowed, and Greer paused for a second. She aimed her sword for his heart, but stopped and finally hit him so that he'd be unconscious.

He lay there where he fell. She moved him to the mattress, and smiled a small, bitter smile. "Yes, you're right, I don't know what I am, or how I am going to stand this life of mine. But I guess I have to keep on trying."

Tears formed in her eyes as she walked to the one door to the room. It was unlocked. _He was so sure of his victory,_ she thought as she opened the door. Stairs lead up to the rest of the house, and she walked up, found an address, and looked for h er way home.

* * *

She decided to stop at the bookstore. Joe could be there, and she needed to warn him about what was going on. Of course, Jasper could be there too.

When she walked into the store, Jasper was there, alone. He was apparently surprised to see her alive. She smiled a nasty smile. "Hello. Surprised to see me? Where's Joe?"

"I don't know," he said.

"I think you do."

The telephone's ring interrupted the argument. They both jumped, and Greer picked it up. "Hello?"

"Greer, is that you?" Joe asked on the other end, his voice full of relief.

"It's me. Joe, I need to talk to you ASAP. Urgently. You get the picture?"

"Yes, I've got it," Joe responded. "Hold on, I'll be right there."

"Ok, see you later."

"Bye."

* * *

Joe was very fast. He was going fast enough that Duncan, following behind him, had trouble catching up. "Greer, are you all right? I was told you'd been kidnapped!"

"I was. Please stop panicking and listen to me for a moment. You didn't think there was something wrong with our group? Boy, have I got a tale to tell you..." she said, explaining what happened to her.

Joe turned towards Jasper. "Out," he said firmly. Jasper spared no time in leaving.

"Seems you have another personnel problem," Duncan said to Joe. Joe shrugged.

"So, I guess I'll be leaving now. I'll be definitely safer that way," Greer said. "By the way, how did you know I'd been kidnapped?"

"Charlie saw someone being kidnapped, and I recognized his description of you. I then called Joe," Duncan said.

"Who's Charlie?"

Joe answered. "Charlie DeSalvo, who runs DeSalvo's Martial Arts for Duncan."

"You missed him because he had the flu," Duncan added.

"Well, thank him for me," she said.

"I will," Duncan replied.

"As I said, I need to leave. It's probably for the best. I don't want Aaron Morris or any of his flunkies catching me."

"I think it's a good idea," Duncan said.

Joe looked at him. "I have to agree. Come back in a few months, we'll have this all sorted out," he said to Greer.

"No, thanks, Joe. It's time I got away from all this," she said, looking at Joe and Duncan alike. "I can't be in either society. I wouldn't feel safe in either society. I've got to find my own way."

Joe looked at her sadly. "If you ever change your mind, come back to us," he said.

"I doubt it, but I'll try," she said. She headed over towards the door, then turned and beckoned Duncan over. When he got there, she said, "Could you lend me some money? I'm rather low on funds."

"Sure," he said, quickly fishing some money out of his wallet. "Good luck, Greer."

"Thanks," she said. "Oh, and could you keep Joe occupied for a while, so I can get out of town?"

"Yes."

"Goodbye," she said to him, then waved to Joe, who was looking at her with a wistful expression. She then walked out of the store, and away from the block. She was lucky enough to catch the bus. She relaxed on it, leaving her past behind and preparing for the future ahead of her. It would be a long road, she thought, but a good one.

--The End!