Disclaimer: I don't own Highlander except in my mind.

Ch. 1:

In Moscow, Igor Stefanovich was watching a tape of himself giving a speech while sitting in a hotel room.

"Come, Dmitri." He said, calling the other man in the room over. "Watch, you might learn something."

Dmitri came over as requested.

"Sit down." Stefanovich told him.

Dmitri did so and they continued to watch the tape.

"And you and I once more to call ourselves Russians!" the tape said. "Hammer and sickle will fly again!"

"Do they not love me?" Stefanovich asked, but continued without an answer. "Of course they love me. I fill their empty bellies with something more than food. I fill them with someone to hate, someone to blame for their wretched lives. Jews, Muslims…Czechians." He paused the tape and stood up. "It really doesn't matter. There are glorious days ahead, Dmitri."

He yawned and looked at the flickering picture on the screen.

"Lousy TV." He muttered. "That's the first thing we'll have to fix." He headed for the bedroom. "I'm going to bed, and I don't want to be disturbed."

"Good night, Mr. Stefanovich." Dmitri said.

As the door to the bedroom shut, there was a knock at the front door. Dmitri opened it to find a dark haired woman in a leopard spotted coat.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I have an appointment with Igor Stefanovich." She told him.

"Impossible." Dmitri said. "Mr. Stefanovich has just gone to bed."

He started to close the door, but she stopped him.

"Then I'm right on time." She said.

She opened her coat and he saw that she was only wearing a sheer negligee.

"If you don't trust me," she said, breezing by him, "you can search me." She shrugged her coat back on. "What have I to hide? He's expecting me."

As she walked down the hall, Stefanovich appeared.

"What is going on here?" he demanded.

Without another word, the woman pulled out a gun and shot Stefanovich at point blank range. Dmitri immediately retaliated, shooting the woman in the back. He quickly stepped over her and ran to the phone.

"Hello?" he called as he picked it up. "Hello? Stefanovich has been shot!"

Unnoticed by Dmitri, behind him, the woman came back to life with a gasp.

"Send an ambulance!" he continued to shout. "Quickly! Now! Listen to me! Stefanovich has been shot!"

The woman slowly rolled to her side and stood up. As Dmitri continued to shout, she coolly shot him in the back. After, the only sound was the recording of Stefanovich playing in the background. She slowly backed up until she reached the door, and then she turned and walked away.

Sekhmet violently wrenched the door open to find Duncan and Joe on the doorstep. Both men could tell she was not happy.

"Come in, I guess." She said, turning her back and walking away.

Joe and Duncan exchanged a look before stepping in and shutting the door. They watched as Sekhmet strode across the room to the bed.

"Is that…?" Joe asked.

On the bed was Methos. He wasn't moving and they could see that there was a dagger sticking out of his chest. Sekhmet calmly walked over and ripped the dagger out of his chest before moving to the desk and sitting down. She pushed a button on the computer sitting there to turn it on and completely ignored the others. A few seconds later, Methos came back to life, gasping.

He sat up and rubbed his chest, glaring at Sekhmet's back.

"You don't think that was an overreaction?" he demanded.

"Nope." She replied, not looking at him.

"Someone want to tell us what's going on?" Duncan asked.

"No." the couple answered at the same time.

There was a moment of silence.

"Duncan, get him out of here before I'm tempted to make his death permanent." Sekhmet said, not looking up.

Methos muttered something in Egyptian and had to move quickly to grab the dagger she sent flying at him out of the air.

"Out." She growled, her eyes bright. "Get out."

"Fine." He replied, seething.

He strode to the door, grabbing his coat on the way and left the other two men to follow.

Joe, Duncan, and Methos sat watching the 'Charlie Desalvo Memorial Boxing Tournament' from the front row. Well, Duncan and Joe were watching it. Methos was watching his popcorn despondedly.

"What'd I tell you?" Duncan said. "The kid works a body just like Brasilio."

"Nah, you mean Dick Tyro." Joe replied.

"No, Carmen Brasilio." Duncan protested.

"Dick Tyro." Joe insisted.

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Methos demanded incredulously.

"Carmen Brasilio." Duncan replied.

"Who he?" Methos asked.

"Middleweight contender back in the fifties." Duncan explained. "Guy hit like a mule."

"Dick Tyro." Joe insisted again.

"Who he?" Methos asked again.

"Middleweight champion back in the fifties." Joe replied. "Guy knocked Brasilio on his ass."

"Aah." Duncan said. "He was lucky."

"The Marquis of Queensbury would have been so proud." Methos said, sarcastically as he picked at his popcorn.

"Who he?" Joe asked innocently.

He grinned when Methos glared at him.

"Oh, lighten up." Duncan told Methos. "Or tell us what happened. Either way you'll feel better."

Methos picked at his popcorn again before sighing.

"I'm sure a lot of women dream about killing their fiancées." He said morosely. "Mine just realized she could actually do it without any lasting damage."

"What did you do?" Joe asked.

"Why do you assume it was something I did?" Methos demanded.

"Probably because we found you with a knife sticking out of your chest." Duncan replied. "Also, you're the guy. If you haven't realized it by now, everything is your fault. Learn to except it and move on. So what'd you do?"

"All I did was make a small joke about an aspect of the wedding details." Methos replied.

"Oh, no." Joe said as Duncan shook his head.

"You really are dumb." Duncan agreed. "You never make fun of a future bride's wedding plans. Never. You just don't do it."

"Come off it." Methos protested. "I've been married 68 times and not once has the woman reacted that violently."

"Methos, this woman isn't like the others." Duncan told him. "She's been waiting for 5,000 years for this wedding. Your role in this is to shut up and do as she tells you, not crack jokes. I'm frankly surprised you only got a knife through the chest."

Duncan glanced back to the fight.

"Keep up your left!" he yelled. "Watch the upper hand right!"

Just as he yelled out his advice, the guy went down right in front of them.

"Not like you didn't warn him." Joe said.

Methos rubbed his forehead, shaking his head at the other two.

"So what, you two, you want to sponsor this…event?" he asked.

"Come on man, Charlie would have loved this." Joe said.

"Yeah, he grew up here." Duncan said. "He figured a place like this would keep the kids off the street."

"Oh, yeah, I can see that's really important." Methos said sarcastically. "You know, 'cause out on the streets, you could get hurt."

"Says the guy who got stabbed by his fiancée in his bedroom earlier today." Duncan shot back.

"Oh, very clever." Methos sneered.

They both stiffened as they felt another Immortal.

"If it's Sekhmet, hide me." Methos said. "I'm not dying again tonight."

They both looked for the source of the buzz, until Duncan spotted a woman.

"I don't believe it." He said. "You can calm down, Methos. It's not Sekhmet."

"In that case, it's time to go." The oldest Immortal said, getting up.

"She's a friend." Duncan assured him.

"When she carries a sword, and we haven't been formally introduced, I get shy." Methos replied. "I'd rather take my chances with Sekhmet. At least I'm pretty sure she won't actually kill me."

Duncan got up and started to make his way over to the woman.

"Mac!" Joe called as Methos climbed over him.

He sighed and Methos walked back.

"You coming?" he asked the Watcher.

"Yeah, yeah." Joe sighed, getting to his feet.

Duncan made his way over to the woman.

"Ingrid?" he called.

She turned and looked at him.

"Duncan?" she asked, surprised.

He smiled and took her hand.

Duncan took Ingrid's hands and they began to dance.

"If you ask me," she said, "your mission here British Intelligence is useless."

"Why?" Duncan asked.

"Because the British ruling class are snobs." She answered. "Because no matter what you tell them, they will never believe they should fear a house painter from Austria."

"Does Hitler really have the support of the German people?" he asked.

"Ah." She said. "The proletariat are always the last to realize what's going on, and when they do, it's usually too late. You know, it wouldn't be so tragic if it wasn't so predictable. They love him."

"Incredible." Duncan said as they stopped dancing.

"Why should that surprise you?" Ingrid asked, leading him over to the table. "Hitler appeals to the lowest common denominator."

As they sat down, a young man ran in.

"David?" Ingrid said, worry in her voice, as she stood up. "What happened?"

He was badly beaten.

"It was those goddamn Nazis, that's what happened." David replied as he sat down. "I'm standing on the corner, talking…"

"That's all you were doing?" Duncan asked, looking at the man's wounds. "Talking?"

"Yah, just talking." David insisted. "And then those bastards just start hitting me. Three of them!"

"Have a drink, you'll feel better." Ingrid told him before looking up at Duncan. "You want to give the British a piece of Intelligence? Tell them that the greatest danger in dealing with a leader like Hitler is underestimating them."

"My god." David said. "That's them."

He quickly hid his face as Duncan turned to see a group of officers heading their way.

"Really?" he said, setting his drink down.

"You're just here to observe." Ingrid pointed out, stopping him. "Remember?"

"Look what we have here." One of the officers said. "The loudmouth Jew has run off to his Communist friends." The man looked at Duncan. "Are you his friend?"

"Nope." Duncan said after draining his tankard. "I'm his brother."

"Another Jew." The officer said before swinging at Duncan.

Duncan quickly ducked before punching back and throwing the man into the table as Ingrid and David moved out of the way. The other officer attacked and Duncan flipped him onto another table, breaking it. The first officer got up and tried to attack Duncan with a bottle, but Duncan pulled a hidden knife from his sleeve and knocked the bottle out of the man's hand before holding the knife to his throat.

"Get out of here." Duncan ordered, tossing the man towards the door.

The other man tried to attack, but Duncan brought him up short with his knife.

"Say hello to Hitler for me." Duncan said, also forcing him to the door.

"You're not helping anything, you know?" Ingrid said as Duncan replaced his knife into his sleeve and she went back to the table to get her purse. "What do you think you accomplished with that little display?"

"I don't know." Duncan replied. "Made me feel better."

Ingrid huffed and took David by the hand.

"I thank you, my friend." David told him as Ingrid led him away. "But she's right. You may have stopped these two, but there will be more."

"There will always be more." Ingrid said.

"Yeah." Duncan said dismissively as they left and he went to the bar. "Can I have another beer?"

"On the house." The barkeep said.

"Oh, thank you." Duncan said cheerfully, but Ingrid came up and pulled him away. "What?"

Duncan pulled Ingrid's hand up and kissed smiled, but the smile faded when she looked across the room and spotted a man.

"Friends of yours?" Duncan asked as she looked for an exit.

"I'll explain later." She said.

She strode over to the fire alarm and calmly pulled it.

"Come on." She said, taking his hand and leaving with the crowd.

A/N: Let me know what you guys think.