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Three Little Watchers, Sitting on a Hill...


Disclaimer: Highlander don't belong to me...whimper.



Sometimes,” thought Joe, biting his cheek as he kept his eyes glued to the binoculars. “The toughest part of this job is trying to keep a straight face.”

Try as he might, he couldn’t tune out the conversation of the other two Watchers. Not that it wasn’t entertaining, mind, but even these two geniuses would figure he knew something they didn’t if he suddenly started laughing his head off. Damn it, you’d think Methos and Amanda would know by now how to shake a tail. He wasn’t sure he could keep this up for much longer…

“What the hell does McLeod keep calling Pierson? It sure the heck isn’t Adam…”

Not sure…Me…Mi…nah, can’t make it out. Damn it! I wish they’d let us mic our subjects, trying to lip read in the dark is a pain, even with night vision. What did Pierson say?

Not sure…no, wait…. something about Butch and Sundance?

“That’s the trouble with the young ones, they think everything is a game.”

“Well, the Highlander doesn’t look too happy with him, seems to be taking him in hand.”

“How the hell did you draw the short straw anyway? I thought you’d get something better than a newbie like Pierson.”

“Well, at least I’m not tailing little Miss Lightfingers, how many times have you been arrested again? Three, four?

Five. I swear the little minx is on to me There is no way the gendarmes would have found my last lookout spot without getting a tip off.”

“Wait…. look, they’re moving again…what the…are they skipping?

“Bloody lunatics, don’t they know whose house this is? They’re going to get killed.”

Joe’s ear perked up. “What d’ya mean, get killed?” he asked, rounding on the two watchers.

Rene, Amanda’s current Watcher, eyed him incredulously. “You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“That’s Jean Lombardi’s house!”
“Yeah, so?”

“Jean Lombardi, the mafia king? Oh come on, Joe, surely you’ve heard of him?”

“What? I thought he was some kinda corporate sales guy?”

Rene sniggered. “Is that what she told you when she cornered you in the bar last night?”

“Ah shit,” Joe muttered as he hastily looked through his binoculars. Too late, they’d already made it to the patio doors. Ringing Mac would only draw attention to him.

“Relax, Joe,” drawled Nick, Methos’s watcher. “He’s immortal, remember? The worst that can happen is that he gets dumped in a shallow grave for a few hours.”

Joe wondered if what they said about Watcher’s picking up their subject’s personality traits was true. Nick’s sense of humour was certainly more twisted nowadays. Give him another few years and he’ll be more easily amused than Methos.

“They’re in,” Rene muttered, dropping his binoculars. “Now all we can do is wait.”

“How long will they be?” Nick asked.
“Depends on how good the security system is,” Rene sighed. “Anything from fifteen minutes to an hour.”

Abruptly, the house came ablaze with lights and Joe cursed under his breath as he heard gunfire in the distance. “Damn it!” he muttered pulling out his keys as he stalked to his car.

“Joe, what the hell are you doing?” Rene said, frowning.

“Taking up a new career as a getaway driver, apparently.”

“Really?” Nick said, perking up. “Wait, I’ll come with you.”

Joe grinned as he slid into driver’s seat. “Not tonight, kid, maybe some other time.”

“Not fair, why do you get to have all the fun?” Nick complained.

“Coz I got an invite, keep an eye on the house,” Joe slammed the door and revved the engine, laughing as he spotted the sulky expression on Nick’s face, kids.

Quickly, he raced down the dirt path and onto the main road, slowing down as he neared the high walls that surrounded the chateaux. If he knew Amanda as well as he thought he did, she’d be around here somewhere…

Suddenly, Amanda appeared in his headlights, and Joe hit the breaks as she darted towards the passenger door. “Joe, my darling man, I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” Amanda sighed as she jumped into the seat.

Joe frowned. “Where the heck are Mac and Methos?”

The rear door opened and Methos threw himself into the back. “Drive, Joe,” he said, slamming the door closed.

“What about MacLeod?” Joe asked.

“Probably being fitted for concrete boots as we speak,” Methos said, glaring at Amanda. “And we’ll be joining him if you don’t get a move on.”

“I didn’t know, honest,” Amanda protested.

“Oh please, I’m not the Highlander, Amanda, you can’t kid a kidder.”

“Well, okay, so maybe I heard a few rumours,” Amanda admitted. “But I didn’t think they were true.”

“You gotta be kidding me,” Joe muttered as he hit the road. “So what are we going to do about Mac?”

Amanda smiled guiltily. “I don’t suppose you brought a shovel?”

FINIS...sorta





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