Title: What Amanda Wants, Amanda Gets?

Prompt: Firsts; Originally posted to the live journal challenge community hlflashfic

Characters: Amanda and Duncan

Spoilers: None; set during the series

Disclaimer: All things belong to their respective creators

Summary: Amanda sees a piece of jewelry that she just has to have

What Amanda Wants, Amanda Gets?

It was almost closing time at the museum. Amanda stood in front of the display case which contained the reason for her visit. It was a beautiful, gold necklace from the 1920s inlaid with small colored gemstones. It wasn't worth as much as other things she had stolen and it wasn't a famous piece but it had caught her eye. Sometimes it was more fun to steal the unexpected and besides she had a new outfit that needed just such a bauble.

She was, as the Americans say, 'casing the joint'. She giggled silently at the cliché, as she resumed her walk through the display hall. She always enjoyed stealing from museums. They prided themselves on their creative security measures which just made it that much more satisfying when she beat those measures.

Her original thought had been to return after closing. Sighing, she realized she wasn't in the mood to play "avoid the electric eyes in a cat suit." The lock on the case was child's play and the security guards didn't circle into the room very often. The temptation to attempt the robbery now was very enticing.

She wandered through the museum as the crowds thinned and she found herself once again in front of the case holding the necklace. She fingered the lock pick in her pocket while weighing her odds of success.

Amanda, you shouldn't do it. Stealing is wrong.

Amanda started at the sound of the voice speaking her name. Looking around for the source she saw…no one. The hall was empty.

She shook off the ghostly feeling of being watched and focused again on the lock. In her mind, she reviewed her escape route.

You don't want to do this, Amanda.

She froze. It had to be Duncan. It wouldn't be the first time he'd interfered with her fun. Walking into the center of the hall, she tried to sense the other Immortal. Frustrated, she called out, "Duncan, it's not funny. Show yourself." No answer.

"I must be hearing things," she muttered as she returned to her objective. She shook out her arms and stretched them above her head as she limbered up for the adventure about to commence.

Amanda leaned over the case, "come to, Mama" she cooed slipping the lock pick from her pocket.

Once again the strange voice interrupted her thoughts. This is stupid, Amanda. You're better than this.

Her heart was beating faster and her concentration was destroyed. Amanda realized that she wouldn't find Duncan lurking in the next room. She hated what she was thinking because she couldn't …wouldn't admit where the voice was coming from. She cursed as she headed for the exit and the nearest phone.

It was the middle of the night in Paris but she didn't care. Angrily, she punched the numbers into the phone.

"MacLeod," came the sleepy voice.

"This is entirely your fault," she shouted into the phone.

"Amanda?" his voice was still slurred with sleep.

"Yes, it's Amanda," she hissed. "I didn't ask for this. It's not fair." She was yelling and pouting at the same time. Amanda was very much aware that she was one of the few women who could actually pull off this combination.

It worked. Duncan was immediately alert and the concern was evident in his voice. "Amanda, what's wrong? What's happened?"

"You! That's what's wrong. You and your stupid 'boy scout' code of honor."

"You're not making any sense. I haven't seen you in weeks. What could I possibly have done?"

"I wanted it and I didn't steal it," she stated, incredulous at her own inaction. "For the first time in my life, I heard my conscience telling me not to steal."

"That's wonderful. Amanda, I am very proud of you."

She could hear the smile and the sincerity in his voice and it just irritated her more. "You don't understand?" her pout was in full force.

Amused, Duncan admitted, "No, I guess I don't. What's the problem?"

"My stupid conscience speaks with a Scottish accent!" Duncan's laughter echoed through the phone as she hung up on him thinking, "Damn the man."