The concept of 'Immortals' and 'The Game' belongs to Panzer/Davis of Highlander. So it stands to reason that the character of Adam Pierson and any other Highlander characters that are likely to pop up are the creation and property of Panzer/Davis. No copyright infringement is intended or implied. Several upcoming characters will belong to their creators on the RPG list and I will point those out as they appear. In this story, Erin does not belong to me. Erin belongs to Carrie. hey girl!!! Landon belongs to herself and to Rain (me).
Thank you to all my beta readers: Lorenzo, Kim, and my mother as always . . .
Landon's Diary
Airplane over Canada
November 2000
Landon fought to hold her tongue. But her eyes couldn't help but glare at the Air Canada flight attendant. No, Landon didn't want to sit in the cockpit and pretend to fly the plane, she had said. She wanted the First Class seat Adam Pierson's credit card had already paid for. She did not care that the airline wished to refund the extra fees to "her father's" VISA. Landon wanted very much for Adam to have to pay for First Class. She was NOT sitting in coach.
Yet coach was where the perky blonde who kept addressing her as "dear" and "sweetheart" was leading Landon. Shut up already about this Immortal little girl costume I can't climb out of, Landon thought to herself. It's caused me enough heartache already.
To say the least, Landon was very angry. Her anger did abate slightly when she saw her new assigned seat. The only empty one in coach.
Landon's anger mutated into a sort of fear. The seat was right beside the red-haired woman from the airport coffee shop. The klutzy bookworm who had stared so deeply into Landon's eyes as if she KNEW Landon. But what was Landon supposed to do instead? Get off the plane altogether? No. She had made a deal with herself yesterday. She would leave Adam's house, leave London, and fly to Toronto. And not change her mind. If Landon got off this connecting flight, the odds were huge she would be on another plane right back across that ocean. Right back to Adam. No, Landon refused to let herself do that. She forced the intense uncomfortableness to the far reaches of her mind and slipped into the window seat. Landon did not look over at the woman, but clutched tight to her carry on bag. She stared out the tiny porthole window, and thought about Amara Kat all alone in her travel cage in baggage. Lucky Amara, to be alone.
"Nearly missed the plane, ya did, lass," the red-haired woman said brightly, as the aircraft began taxiing to the runway. An Irish accent graced her voice. Landon neither agreed with nor dismissed her comment. The Immortal opened her People Magazine and began to read.
But the young woman beside her tried again to win Landon's attention. "Flying alone, are you?"
"What does it look like?" Landon replied coolly without looking up.
"Ah, I'll take that as a yes then. And you're American?"
"And you're not. Do you mind? I'm busy."
Truly wounded, the woman apologized and managed to sit quietly as the plane took off and gained altitude.
Landon's heart finally returned to normal and she put away her People, which she had never actually read a word of in the past twenty minutes. She had been so happy, so strong, and so proud of herself, and already she was falling apart. She didn't really care that she was in coach instead of in First Class. She hadn't meant to act so rudely to this woman she had no real reason to hate. The Irish woman really hadn't done anything since the coffee shop incident to indicate anything peculiar. Landon decided she must have been paranoid and imagined the whole thing. This flight from St. John's International to Toronto was short, but for her karma, Landon figured she had better try to atone for her earlier behavior.
She peeked over at her. The red-haired woman was using her fold down tray to write in a notebook. Her left hand held open a page from a very old book. Landon wondered if it was the same coffee-covered one.
"Did your book turn out okay?" Landon asked.
The woman paused in her writing and raised her eyebrows. "Pardon?"
"Your book. At the airport. You spilled your coffee all over it?"
"Oh, yes, right. That book," the woman replied. "That was a 3rd century copy of a genuine Teodoro, it took me four years to track it down in those libraries. See, I thought since it was by the Italian patrician it would logically be catalogued in the Roman libraries, or the Florentine at the farthest. But, no, it was my cross-referencing in Paris of the French translated Italian texts, translated to the modern English, albeit wrongly, that led me to the Teodoro--," she broke off suddenly, realizing the bored look on Landon's face was unquestioningly sincere. "Oh, look at me. I didn't mean to go on. It's just; I'm really very passionate about my work. I teach at University. Well, I did in Dublin. Now I will be at University of Toronto. But, you probably don't care much about that either. I'm sorry. I'm Erin. Erin O'Dell." She held out her hand.
Silently Landon shook it, then after a few more seconds, introduced herself. "I'm Amy."
"So nice to meet you Amy," Erin said. "Oh yes. Yes. To answer your question, my book is just fine. They really made books to last in those days. Practically indestructible, even by me." Erin laughed and picked up her pencil. But the pencil flew across the aisle and into another passenger's lap. Erin quickly turned her head to the window, red curls flying, and lifted her hand to shield her face from the panicked man.
Landon wanted to roll her eyes but only murmured, "I'd think you'd be used to that by now." Karma recovered, the Immortal unzipped her bag and sheathed her magazine. She then pulled out a notebook of her own. The cover read, My Journal, but Landon turned to a blank page near the end and began writing, "Dear Adam." Then she stopped. What was she doing?! This was NOT the deal. But really, Landon's deal had not actually included any provision for writing letters. Flying back to London or leaving messages on his voice mail were prohibited. Snail mail was not. Well, perhaps Landon would write Adam a small, short letter. She wouldn't necessarily have to post it. Yeah, right.
"Aren't you a little young to be a professor at a University?" Landon asked Erin, her letter already halfway down the page.
Erin's face beamed, but sheepishly so. "I did test out of a bit of schooling. Aren't you a little young to have a boyfriend?" she returned.
"What?"
"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have peeked, but I just happened to notice your love letter."
Landon snapped her notebook shut. "Yeah, you're right. You shouldn't have…peeked!" She barely caught herself from yelling loud enough for the entire plane to hear. "It's none of your business, Miss O'Dell."
"I said I was sorry, Amy. I-I am."
Landon mentally willed her seat further from Erin's. She decided simply 'willing' was doing no good. But maybe this was a sign she never should have begun that letter. But Erin wasn't sorry for long.
"So, is your boyfriend cute?"
Landon pinched her eyelids shut. She saw Adam Pierson standing there. Doing cute. She opened her eyes again and replied, "Enormously."
"Am-am I crossing lines again? Because, sometimes I do that and I don't even realize. I just-I suppose I just really don't want to be concentrating on this text right now," Erin pleaded to Landon. Landon started to realize herself that talking about her boyfriend with Erin could prove interesting; and amazingly fun, if done just right. Landon was all for some fun at this point in her life.
"No, you're not crossing any lines, Erin," Landon smiled warmly and turned in her seat to face the red-haired woman.
"Oh, thank goodness. I'm so relieved." She put a hand to her chest and continued, "So, are you flying back to the lucky guy, or is this the flight away? But first, you must tell me his name?!"
"His name is Adam. I left him back in Europe. Not left him left him, I'm just traveling to Toronto to be with my family for Thanksgiving," Landon lied. "An American holiday. You know how that goes. Well, you're Irish, I guess you wouldn't. But you must have Irish holidays that don't mean a damn to someone like me, right?"
Erin frowned, but only briefly. "Oh yes, of course you're right. I do understand. I'd completely forgotten about holidays," she nearly drifted off, but returned as suddenly, "So, Adam, hmm? How long have you known each other?"
"Feels like forever," Landon reminisced. "For the entire length of my life that's ever meant anything to me."
"That's so sweet. I remember young love myself. Nothing quite like it. Do you mind if I ask, Amy? Do you happen to have a picture of him on you?"
Playing the bubbly teenager, she handed Erin the photo. At the bottom in the allotted white space, Adam had even signed it, wishing her his eternal love.
Landon waited anxiously, for her reaction. Erin O'Dell took the Polaroid. She stared at it, and stared at it. Her smile faded, and her jaw dropped…
to be continued
© 2000 Rain Pierson
"Of course I do, I never leave home without one." Now came the decision. Would Landon show Erin a fake photo of some junior high homecoming king or Adam's actual photo? What the hell, she thought. This would be REALLY fun now. The visual age difference alone would floor her! Landon fumbled in her bag for the Polaroid she'd snagged last month.
first penned November 2000
revised through November 2000
