Disclaimer: Joe Dawson, Lauren Gale, Duncan MacLeod and Richie Ryan all belong to Rysher & Davis/Panzer. I am using them without permission. Also quoted without permission is Fire & Ice by Walt Whitman. The story takes place between “Counterfeit” and “The Samuri”.

What Might Have Been
by Sandra Adair

June 1994
********

As the jet roared down the runway and lifted off into the black velvet night, Joe Dawson leaned back and closed his eyes with an exhausted sigh. It had been a hectic six weeks and he was glad he was returning to Seacouver alone for a change. He had two weeks of paid leave starting Monday and he was going to use his time just relaxing at home, recharging his batteries. He fervently hoped that Duncan and Richie stayed in Paris during these two weeks so he would have a chance to get caught up; on his sleep, on Watcher reports, on bar business, on the rest of his life. He knew that Henri would continue to watch them while they remained in Paris and would keep him informed of any new developments.

Joe attempted to sleep but he couldn’t seem to get comfortable. He moved restlessly, changing positions several times before finally giving up. Opening his eyes, he gazed unseeingly at the darkness outside his first-class window, allowing the memories of this past week to come: of his brother-in-law’s death at MacLeod’s hands, the subsequent burial and the necessary, if doctored, explanations he had given both Watcher headquarters and his own family. He wondered for the umpteenth time if there had been anyhing he could have said or done to change James’s views on Immortals. Had his friendship with MacLeod contributed to James’s overpowering need to eradicate all Immortals, MacLeod especially? *Why* had he hated all Immortals so virulently? Why couldn’t James have seen them for what they were - just men with a different cross to bear than most others, some good, some evil, but still men who *could* die. Joe had seen enough of Immortal life first-hand to know that Immortality was not the wonderful blessing that most new Watchers enviously thought it was. Guilt over his participation in James’s death weighed heavily on him and suddenly Joe wanted to forget it all, just for a little while. Wearily his gaze searched for the stewardess, wanting a strong drink. Turning in his seat to look behind him for the elusive attendant, he inadvertently caught the gaze of the woman sitting across the aisle from him. In response to her tenative smile, he absentmindedly smiled in return before his eyes moved on down the aisle, his attention focused on finding temporary relief from his inner turmoil. He would be so glad when he finally got home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lauren felt a shock of awareness tingle through her when she caught the eyes of the distinguished-looking man sitting across the aisle from her. She discreetly watched him while he talked to the stewardess. She had noticed him when she had boarded the plane in Chicago and had wondered about him. As a historian, she was continually fascinated by the complexity of the human race around her and how each individual person fit into the grand scheme of things. When travelling she would often watch a person and try to guess what he/she did for a living, whether they were married or single, where they lived, what type of personality they had, what their lifestyle was and how they would leave a mark on history. It broke up the monotony of her trips and on rare occasions she had actually discovered that some of her guesses had been accurate.

His husky voice, asking for a scotch and water, brought her back to the present and she refocused on her current “subject”, as she liked to call the people she watched. It was less personal that way. She let her eyes drift over his features again, admiring the salt-and-pepper hair and beard. She particularly liked the tiny laugh lines bracketing his blue eyes. It indicated a man with a good sense of humor and the ability to laugh at whatever life threw his way. He had closed his eyes again after the stewardess left but she remembered the incredible sadness she had seen there when she had caught his glance earlier. She wondered if he had just lost a close friend. It was that kind of weary, accepting grief she had glimpsed, not the all-consuming, shattering grief one suffered with the loss of a wife, child or parent.

Her gaze drifted down his body noting the powerful muscles in his shoulders and chest. She estimated him to be in his late 40’s and she wondered if he worked out to stay so fit and trim. Again she noticed the ornate head of a cane resting on the inner seat and wondered what it was for. He didn’t have any obvious deformity that she could see but he had already been seated when she had boarded the plane. She watched his hands moving restlessly in his lap and realized that whatever had caused the sadness in his eyes was still troubling him. There was a tired droop to his shoulders and a weary cast to his face that indicated he had probably not been sleeping very well for some time.

She saw nothing to change her earlier conclusion that he was a salesman, computers probably, since she could see a laptop on the seat next to him. Until she had seen his eyes, she had wondered if his weariness stemmed from partying and keeping late hours at a convention somewhere. That terrible sadness, however, was not the result of the wining-and-dining whirlwind of a convention. She briefly wondered if he was going towards the source of his grief or leaving it behind in Chicago.

As the stewardess returned with his drink, Lauren turned back to her book. Usually it was fun guessing about people, but something about him touched her deeply, making her want to offer him solace. The instantaneous connection she had felt when they had locked gazes unnerved her a little bit. She was not usually so aware of her “subject” and the fact that he was a good-looking man only made the situation more disturbing. She successfully kept her eyes, if not her thoughts, off the man seated across from her during the remainder of the flight to Seacouver. When the plane landed she quickly disembarked before him, stifling a lingering sense of regret that she would not be able to get to know this “subject” better.

**********

Lauren paused, looking from the paper in her hand to the sign on the end of the bookshelf , trying to match the numbers. She had come to the university library seeking some old texts the university had on the early Roman Empire. One of the guys in Acquisitions had found a sculpture at an estate auction and purchased it, believing the auctioneer’s claim that it was from the time of the early Roman empire. Personally, Lauren had her doubts and so the museum curator had assigned her the task of researching the truth before the museum would display the piece.

She finally found the books she was looking for and took them to the nearest table to read and make some notes. Several minutes later, a soft rhythmic tapping interrupted her concentration, causing her to look up. A stocky, well-dressed man was walking towards her end of the library, intently studying the paper in his hand. The tapping sound came from the cane he was using to help him walk. While she watched, he paused, glancing from the paper in his hand to the signs on the ends of the bookshelves, much as she had done earlier. Lauren continued watching him, puzzled because he looked familiar but she couldn’t quite place him. Suddenly turning his head, he looked straight at Lauren and she felt a shock of recognition jolt her as she realized it was her “subject”, the man who had sat across the aisle from her last week on her flight from Chicago. Slightly stunned, Lauren could only watch as he started walking towards her, fascination and curiousity holding her immobile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joe stopped for a minute, looking from the numbers listed on his paper to the signs on the ends of the bookshelves. None of them matched yet so he must not be in the right section of the library. Glancing around, he saw a woman sitting at a table not far from him, watching him. Hesitating, he finally decided to ask for her assistance and started in her direction.

Dark chestnut brown hair was pulled back from her face and twisted up in a stylish French knot. Red highlights danced in when she moved. Soft, wispy bangs accentuated her oval face with its delicate features and large green eyes. Joe grinned. If he had to admit he was lost, he might as well be helped by a pretty lady.

“Excuse me,” Joe murmured. “Would you help me find my bearings? I seem to be lost.”

“What section are you looking for?” she queried, rising from her seat.

“The texts the university has on the early Roman empire. The main librarian said it should be in this area but I can’t seem to locate any of them,” Joe responded.

She threw him a quick startled glance before extending her hand for the paper he held. After perusing the numbers listed, she glanced at him again. “I have two of these books right here,” she said pointing to her own stack on the table. “The rest of these are over there in that section but they are on an upper shelf.” Glancing at his cane, she asked, “Would you like me to help you get them down?”

“Thank you, I would appreciate it,” Joe replied. Extending his hand, he added, “By the way, I am Joe Dawson.”

“Lauren Gale,” she said as she shook his hand. Turning towards the shelves, she continued, “and fellow researcher of the early Roman empire. What aspect are you researching?”

“I am looking for any and all information I can find on Marcus Constatine, but mostly the more obscure details,” Joe said as he turned to go with her. “And you?”

Smiling, she replied, “I am an art historian at the Seacouver Museum of Art. We recently acquired a sculpture that is supposedly from this time period and I doing some basic background research to see if it is true.”

Reaching the shelves, she quickly began searching for the particular titles listed on the paper, passing them to Joe as she found them. Handing him a third book off the shelf, she asked, “How about this one, and will that do for now?”

“This is also great and would suffice. Thank you,” he replied. Glancing at his watch, he continued, “May I borrow a corner of your table? I only have an hour left and I would like to get started.”

“Go ahead,” she replied, wondering if she dared ask him any questions to see how accurate her guesses had been on the plane. Unable to contain her curiosity, she asked, “Are you a professor?”

“No,” Joe answered, chuckling quietly. “I own a blues club.”

********************

****************
July & August 1994
****************

As the long hot days of July bled into August, Joe continued to enjoy his respite from writing up beheading reports, sure that Duncan was enjoying the break also. Duncan and Richie had returned from Paris at the end of June. They spent a couple of quiet weeks doing repair work to the dojo and then left for New York to spend three weeks with Connor. The two older Immortals were planning on showing Richie some of the better nightlife in and around New York City. Joe decided to stay behind in Seacouver, gladly assigning Tom Wiggins,a Watcher friend of his, to watch them temporarily for the duration of their stay in New York City. He was at a critical juncture in his research and he wanted to continue it now while he had the resources available to him. He knew he would have less chance for access when the university resumed classes in September.

And he realized that he did not want to break the tenuous connection he had with Lauren. They had regularly run into each other at the library during the course of their respective researching and a friendship had sprung up between them. Joe looked forward to going to the library, hoping each time that he would see her and feeling a keen disappointment the afternoons when she wasn’t there.

One Wednesday afternoon during the second week of August, Lauren was already at the library when Joe arrived. He collected the books he had been using lately and carried them to the empty end of the table where she sat, a welcoming smile on his face.

“Hello,” he murmured softly, pulling back his chair.

Lauren smiled in greeting and waited until he was seated before asking, “How have you been?”

“Busy,” he replied, unable to wipe the silly grin off his face. It had been almost a week since he had last seen her. “How about you?”

“The same. I had to go to Atlanta last Thursday for the museum.”

“So that’s where you were. Another sculpture?” Joe asked.

“This time a painting,” she laughed. “Some poor fool thought his great aunt had died and left him an original Monet hidden in her attic.”

Joe chuckled with her as she continued telling him about her trip. Listening to her voice, he realized just how much he had missed her this past week. His gaze grew thoughtful as he pondered the wisdom of taking their friendship to the next level. He was wary of involving her any further in his crazy, sometimes dangerous world but he also wanted to get to know her better. He wanted to spend more time with her than the occasional afternoon in the library. Of course, he didn’t have to tell her about the Watchers or Immortals. But he had a feeling that this relationship could become quite serious and if that turned out to be true, he did not want to start it off with lies and half-truths. He wondered if this was similar to the uncertainty, only to a lesser degree, that MacLeod or any other immortal experienced when they were contemplating telling a mortal about their immortality, especially one they cared about.

Suddenly Joe realized there was silence coming from the other end of the table and Lauren was watching him with a puzzled frown on her face. “I’m sorry,” he began, “I was lost in thought. You were saying?”

“Is something wrong?” Lauren asked. Usually Joe was a very attentive listener, joining in the conversation with his own blend of humor and charm. But shortly after she had begun talking about her Atlanta trip she noticed that he seemed to be gazing right through her and had not seemed to hear anything she said. A few seconds later she had stopped talking, realizing that he was, in fact, not listening.

“Yes. No! No, not really,” Joe replied, smiling sheepishly. Taking a deep breath, then releasing it slowly, he decided what the hell. He would start with dinner and take it from there. “Would you like to go to dinner with me tomorrow night?” he asked abruptly.

Lauren blinked slowly in suprise at the quick turn the conversation had taken and then felt a dart of pleasure as his words registered. “Yes,” she answered as a big grin spread over her face and her heart started pounding. After all this time she couldn’t believe that he had finally asked her out. She had just about given up on moving this relationship forward but at long last the future looked promising. Thursday night could not come soon enough.

********************

FIRE AND ICE
by Walt Whitman

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.


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