Title: You Forgot To Mention Hell, Horatio
Author: JR
Email: JRR42@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Status: Complete
Warnings: Nope. Not this time.
Category: Crossover with Highlander
Disclaimer: All other characters belong to their respective owners and are used without permission. This story is not intended to infringe upon any copyrights, nor is any profit being made from it.
This is what happens when you get involved with too many different fandoms.
Universe setting: For you Highlander fans, this story takes place sometime after ‘Archangel’ (sorry to all those Richie Forever people). Please forgive me for playing with the timelines of the shows, but hey, it’s fan-fic and I can do that ;-)
Thanks: As always, to Carrie, and to Marius, the oak and the ash to my birds in the forest.

‘Ye gods, how I weep for the future.’

That was the thought foremost in Adam’s mind as he followed the signs leading to the principal’s office. It had been years since he’d last set foot in an American high school, and not long enough between visits, in his opinion. Silently, the Immortal cursed fate for forcing him into his current situation.

“Excuse me, do you have business here?”

At the sound of the irritated voice, Adam turned to face the speaker. The Immortal was hard-pressed to stifle a laugh as he looked down at the short man attired in a cheap suit. ‘He looks like a rodent,’ Adam mused silently.

“I have an appointment with a Mr. Thomas, one of your Guidance Counselors,” he explained patiently.

“A little old to be a student, aren’t you?” The ferret-like man all but sneered. “Or is that idiot, Thomas, freelancing as a shrink now?”

“Who *are* you?” Adam asked shortly.

“I’m Principal Snyder.” It took every ounce of Adam’s control not to roll his eyes at the pompous air in the little man’s tone. Nevertheless, he somehow managed to control the urge as he assumed the role he intended to play.

“Oh, how do you do? My name is Adam Pierson, Doctor of Linguistics at University of Washington, Seacouver. I’m in town for the upcoming college fair at Washington High, but Mr. Thomas and I are to discuss recruiting here at Sunnydale.” Granted it wasn’t the best cover story he’d ever come up with, but using his ‘Visiting Professor’ credentials from UW-Seacouver was the most viable solution he could come up with on such short notice.

Obviously bored by Adam’s introduction, Snyder hastily interrupted. “Mr. Thomas is going to be late this morning.”

“Oh?”

“He called in with car trouble.”

“Nothing serious, I hope,” Adam commented needlessly. He knew better than anyone what was wrong with the Guidance Counselor’s car, as the Immortal had been busy pulling wires in its engine at 4.30 that morning. “What time is he expected to come in?”

“How should I know? It says ‘school principal’ in my job description, not ‘social secretary’.”

Rising an elegant eyebrow at the other man’s abruptness, Adam bit back a sharp retort of his own. ‘Stick to the plan, old man,’ he thought to himself. Speaking aloud, he turned to the principal. “Would it be possible for me to wait for him?”

“There’s a chair in the office,” Snyder replied dismissively.

“Uh, is there someplace a little quieter? I have some work I’d like to catch up on...” The request was made as unobtrusively as Adam could manage. It still brought forth an irritated glance from the little man.

“Does this look like a libr...” Snyder’s voice trailed off for just a moment as he caught sight of something over Adam’s shoulder. “Ms. Rosenberg, come here!”

Craning slightly to see whom the principal was addressing, the Immortal saw a slight, red-haired girl start as her name was called. She was walking alone through the busy hallway, a heavy stack of books in her arms, when she reluctantly turned to head in the two older men’s direction. Her hesitant manner reminded Adam of a condemned prisoner being escorted to the place of execution.

“Show this gentleman to the library,” Snyder ordered callously. Under his breath, he added an additional comment. “Two limeys. I thought this was supposed to be America.”

“Uh, sure,” the red-head answered with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. “It’s this way.”

For propriety’s sake, Adam turned to thank the abominable man for his assistance, but Snyder had already vanished into the school’s office. ‘What a detestable little troll,’ the Immortal thought briefly before returning his attention to the waiting girl.

“Lead on, MacDuff,” he said amiably. His words were rewarded by a shy smile from his young guide. As she lead him through the maze of locker-lined hallways, Adam couldn’t help wondering over the strange twist of fate that had led him to that particular place.

For two solid days, Adam had monitored the demonology chat room, hoping that the fates would cut him some slack and the girl known as ‘Sabrina’ would return. Of course, he wasn’t that lucky. As he had already suspected, his efforts to trace ‘Sabrina’ through her e-mail accounts were useless. Just when he was about to move on to other avenues of researching the demon, Ahriman; the Immortal made a breakthrough.

The answer had been in front of Adam the whole time, plainly visible in the transcript of that night’s chat. While ‘Sabrina’ may have kept her identity hidden with a nom de plume, Adam suspected that she hadn’t bothered to take any precautions with the IP address number of the computer terminal she was working from that night. The number appeared in the transcript when she had both entered and left the chat room. Once he had the address, it had been relatively simple to find the computer in question; the one right here in Sunnydale High School’s library.

With a starting point, Adam went to work, using his computer to break into the school records in search of his elusive prey. Surprisingly enough, there wasn’t a single student or teacher with the name ‘Sabrina’ anywhere in Sunnydale High. Eliminating the factual, Adam was limited to educated guesswork

He knew from experience that most chatters picked their nicknames for personal reasons -- hobbies, things they liked, cutsie nicknames, et cetera. The challenge became determining why the name ‘Sabrina’ was special to the mystery girl.

The real problem was that Adam hadn’t the first clue about the likes and dislikes of teenagers today. Ironically, his first impulse was to seek out somebody younger to help him close the generational canyon, somebody like Richie. Ryan, however, was gone -- dead at 24 by the blade of the man whom he had considered a surrogate father. It was such a waste.

But unless Adam found a way to help MacLeod soon, Richie wouldn’t be the only victim of Ahriman.

Later that same night, Adam received a call from the local hospital. It seemed that while Joe Dawson was mentally winning the battle against Ahriman’s attacks, his body was taking a beating. Joe had collapsed at his bar that day due to heart palpitations. No longer a young man, the doctor felt the need to admit the ailing mortal to the hospital for observation. With Richie dead and MacLeod off in parts unknown, Adam was the closest thing Joe had to family in the area. For the next week, the Immortal stayed near Dawson, in part for support, but mostly to protect the vulnerable mortal from any of Ahriman’s physical threats.

It was at the hospital that the pieces of the Sabrina puzzle fell into place. Adam had been watching television while Joe napped when an advertisement for a television show played quietly in the background -- a show called ‘Sabrina, the Teen-aged Witch’. The irony of a witch in a demonology chat room brought a raised brow of admiration for the still-faceless girl. At last he had found the connection. At Joe’s insistence, Adam left to make the necessary arrangements for his trip to Sunnydale.

Much to Adam’s surprise, the idea of using his legitimate UW-S credentials to pose as a college recruiter was actually Joe’s idea. The university was only too happy to provide him with the necessary materials when Adam explained that he would be willing to distribute the literature while traveling to Sunnydale on other business. After that, the remaining details had easily fallen into place.

A touch to his arm startled Adam out of his memories and back into the present. “Are you okay? Mister? Are you all right?”

Damn. Getting lost in one’s memories was something that plagued all Immortals. Unfortunately, Adam was more susceptible to the phenomenon than most.

“Yes. I’m here,” he replied as he turned to face the young red-head.

“You looked like you were a million miles away.”

“Not quite that far. I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. It’s just that we’re almost there.” The girl offered the explanation with a grin of what looked like relief. “So are you here to see Gi...uhh, Mr. Giles?”

“Who?” Adam asked in honest confusion.

“Mr. Giles?” the girl asked uncertainly. “The librarian? I thought you might be here to see him, you speaking with an accent and all. I mean, I know Britain is a big island, but we don’t exactly get a lot of you guys over here. Oh, I guess I should shut up now.” A slight blush spread across the girl’s features as she realized she was assuming too much.

“No, Miss...Rosen...” Adam struggled to remember the name.

“Rosenberg. Or Willow. Mostly it’s just Willow,” she hastily added.

“Well, Willow, actually, I had an appointment...” Before Adam could finish his statement, they were moving through the two large doors of the school’s library.

The rich, dusty scent in the air was universal to any room with a large collection of books. The library was rather impressive for a simple high school, much more than Adam had expected. Two stories in height, the upper level was filled with shelves upon shelves of books. The lower lever was decorated by a combination of tables and chairs, bordered by the reference desk on one side and what appeared to be an office on the other. However, it was the man struggling to open the waist-high wooden crate in the middle of the room that caught Adam’s immediate attention.

Just as Willow opened her mouth to call out to the tweed-coated figure, the man finally wedged the crow-bar he was holding into the seam of the crate. With a resounding pop, the wooden lid of the box flew open.

“Mr. Giles!” Willow’s voice was abnormally loud as it echoed through the cavernous room, causing the librarian to jump at the unexpected sound.

“Oh, Willow. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you there,” the Watcher explained before catching sight of the unexpected guest. “Oh, sorry. May I help you?”

“Dr. Adam Pierson, University of Washington Seacouver. I had an appointment with Mr. Thomas this morning but, unfortunately, he’s running a little late this morning. Your...principal suggested that I could wait here for Mr. Thomas’s arrival.”

“Ah, yes, of course. Please.” The librarian gestured to the large table in invitation. Nodding his thanks to the pair from Sunnydale, Adam began moving towards the indicated table. He heard more than saw the librarian once again focus his attention on the young red-head. “And speaking of tardiness, I see Xander is late again, as usual.”

“Well, Xander’s...not exactly a morning person,” the girl defended as the first bell of the day rang out through the hallways.

“Nevertheless...” Giles started. Out of the corner of his eye, Adam watched as the librarian waded through handfuls of packing straw to reach the books ensconced inside the crate. Before Giles could continue, a loud ‘thud’ came from one of the library doors as it swung open.

Adam was in the middle of extracting his laptop from it’s nylon carrying case when the noise got his attention. He looked over to see a dark-haired teen-ged boy enter the room. One of the kid’s hands was wrapped around the strap of a worn backpack, which was quickly thrown into a nearby chair. The other hand held a 24-ounce Styrofoam coffee cup, and the boy was clutching onto it like it was a lifeline.

‘No wonder kids today go postal. I would, too, if I drank *that* much coffee in one go,’ Adam mused silently. Trying to remain as unobtrusive as possible, the Immortal promptly sat down, ignoring the urge to remove his sport coat despite the warmth of the room. Although the heat made the jacket uncomfortable, Adam sure as hell wasn’t going to risk being separated from the weapons carefully hidden inside the lining. At least, not until he could determined whether or not there was any immediate threat to his person.

“Good morning, campers,” the boy said with caffeine- induced cheerfulness. “And what do we have here?” he asked, absently indicating the crate with the cup in his hand.

“How nice of you to join us,” the librarian retorted sarcastically while stacking the contents of the crate on the floor beside it.

“Giles, Giles, Giles. How many times do we have to tell you that Kathy, the Time-Life operator, isn’t gonna date you, no matter how many books you order?”

“Xander, despite your inherent belief that being a student aide in the library during first period entitles you to an extra 45 minutes of sleep every morning, from time to time there is actually work to be done. Now then, each of these books is accompanied by a cataloguing card. Please sort the books, remove the cards, and stack both, in order, in my office.”

The teenager looked surprised by the librarian’s surliness. “Ja wol, Commandant,” the boy quipped. “And where will you be whilst I toil at my labours?”

“I have an appointment with Principal Synder to discuss the inconvenience these special book deliveries cause.” Giles’ eyes rolled heaven-wards as he moved towards the library doors.

“Oh, well be sure to give der Furhrer a nice, big ‘seig heil’ for me.” Thinking back on the authoritarian attitude of the principal, Adam had to bite back a grin at the boy’s sarcasm. “So Wills, what’s up with the G-man? And who’s our mystery guest in the corner?”

Knowing that he was the main topic of discussion, Adam carefully kept his head down, taping quietly on the laptop’s keyboard. Although he could hear the sound of the girl’s voice, she spoke too softly for the Immortal to make out the actual words.

The two teens continued their quiet conversation as they sorted through the fifty or so odd books the crate contained. Every once in a while, the sound of their laughter would rise above the hushed tones, but Adam managed to covertly keep an eye on their activities without reminding the pair of his presence.

“It’s a cookbook! It’s a cookbook!” The loud words echoed through the quiet room as the boy waved a peeling, leather-bound volume over his head. The girl was laughing at his antics, but Adam was having heart palpitations.

‘It can’t be. It simply can’t be!’ he thought rapidly, barely able to keep his surprise from showing in his expression. But it was. There, on the cover of the book the kid was waving, was the all-too-familiar inverted peace sign surrounded by two circles.

The Watcher symbol.

‘What the bloody hell is a Watcher Chronicle doing here?’ Adam thought as his mind turned over theory after theory.

The Watchers were a secret organization of mortals, like Adam’s friend, Joe Dawson. For thousands of years, they had carefully kept records of every Immortal they could find. Whom they fought, whom they loved, when they lived, when they died -- all of it was painstakingly written down to preserve the ‘history’ of the Immortal race. Distinguishable by the tattoo of the Watcher symbol they wore on the their inner-wrist, members swore an oath to record only and to never interfere with those that they watched. In fact, in principle, the Immortals that they followed were never even supposed to know that they were there. It was a wonderful theory, but not a practical one.

Perhaps that was why Adam Pierson reveled in the irony that he had managed to masquerade as a Watcher for over a decade. For ten years he used the information that the field agents so generously provided as a way to avoid others of his kind. For an Immortal, it was the next best sanctuary after Holy Ground.

At least it was until the day Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod came looking for Adam Pierson, researcher extrodinaire...

The sound of the second bell disrupted the Immortal’s concentration. Using the opportunity to grab the reigns on his runaway thoughts, Adam turned his focus from the past back to the present. The presence of the Watcher Chronicle brought both answers and more unsettling questions to his mind. For instance, at least now he had confirmation that he was, indeed, in the right place to find the mysterious ‘Sabrina’. However, it unsettled him greatly that whomever these people -- he assumed that the librarian was aiding the girl -- were; they were not Watchers. So, who was responsible for sending the Chronicle here?

One thing was for certain, he needed to get a closer look at the contents of that crate.

“C’mon, Xander, or we’re gonna be late for the Biology quiz,” the girl reminded him as she gathered up her books.

“Gee, Will. Give a guy some incentive, why don’t you?” the boy retorted as they walked together towards the library door. “So, what’s the verdict? You gonna stay after school to help Giles sort those books out?”

“Well, Giles told me last night that we didn’t have to be back here until just before sunset. So, actually, I was kinda hoping to go home and work on my computer for a little bit. With everything that’s been going on, I haven’t had time to answer any of my e-mail in over a week.”

“That’s our little net-girl,” the boy answered proudly, throwing a companionable arm across her shoulders. Without looking back, the pair exited the library.

Had he allowed his surprise to show outwardly, Adam’s jaw would have been on the ground. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. Not only had he just stumbled across what he suspected to be a lost Watcher Chronicle, he was almost certain he’d just found the elusive ‘Sabrina’.

‘Time enough to deal with the girl later,’ he thought. Never one to pass up an opportunity, Adam quickly made his way over to the still-opened crate. Keeping an ear out for possible interruptions, the Immortal sought out the Chronicle the kids had been holding.

Once he found it, he flipped absently through the pages. The subject of the Chronicle was unfamiliar to Adam. Since the last notation in the book recorded the Immortal’s demise, it really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, either. The real mystery was where the book had arrived from and what it was doing in the Sunnydale High School library.

It was a puzzle that would have to wait until a later time, however, as the sound of approaching footsteps prompted Adam to return the Chronicle to its place. A few seconds later, a portly man entered the library, introducing himself as Mr. Len Thomas.

Ignoring the guidance counselor’s small talk, Adam thought over possible strategies as he packed up his laptop. By the time he was escorted to the door of the library, the Immortal had long since decided to spend his afternoon finding out more about Willow Rosenberg.




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