Watching Connor MacLeod (original) (raw)

After having spent the evening dining with Cassandra, an evening that had been at the same time incredible, and incredibly frustrating, Jeremy knew it was time to take a little more notice of what his other two charges were doing. The police detective had provided little reason for Jeremy to follow, the immortal seemingly steeped in his law enforcement role in Bremerston.

Connor Macleod on the other hand was one who had been known to both settle for a length of time, only to suddenly up and depart before a Watcher had a moment to even pick up a phone and book a ticket. Jeremy knew if the immortal decided to do that it would probably be prudent to call the move in and hand him on to another.

To better gauge what the Highlander was doing with his time Jeremy had decided it was time to do a little antique shopping. He had found the property that had been bought, the stock replenished and now the doors open for business. He entered the store, a small brass bell hanging above the door sounding as he pushed it open.

There was an unmistakable air in a place that held antiques, one that in a way reminded him of home. The wood and varnish, aged by time, not man, exuded a scent that couldn't be matched by any other. It was as if carrying the memory of all it had seen in the scent alone, and this was enough to trigger the olfactory senses of anyone who walked into the place. He made his way slowly into the store, eyes trailing across each piece that caught it, finger tips lightly touching, as if to honour the age of the piece.

"Now you let me know if there's anything more I can do for you Mrs. Fitzgibbens," Connor was on full charm offensive with a wealthy client who'd just purchased an Edwardian China Cabinet worth more than five thousand dollars. There were many antique dealers in Bremerston and Macleod was new to the area, he wanted to get a good reputation with the locals and it helped pass the time. "If there are more items you need for your collection or you find something that needs repair I'll be more than happy to help in any way I can."

The middle aged woman had never been a beauty, but under the intense scrutiny of the 'young' Mr. Macleod she was blushing like a schoolgirl. "I will Mr. Macleod, you've been very helpful and I won't forget the effort you put into finding the peice."

Connor beamed as he escorted her to the door. "Please, call me Connor. Calling me 'Mr. Macleod' makes me look for my father." He engaged in a little mindless chitchat as they walked to the door and a moment later she was gone, even more pleased with her decision to patronize his shop than she had been when she came in and would tell all her friends.

That client satisfied, Connor turned his attention to the man who had entered his shop in the meantime. There didn't seem to be anything particularly remarkable about him, but for a man his age to be in an antique shop he must be interested in buying something or he wouldn't have set foot in the store. "Can I help you?"

"You have quite the way with the customers," Jeremy noted with a smile, indicating the door and the woman who'd just left. His soft English accent was clear, despite his equally soft spoken voice.

Connor merely smiled and shrugged before spreading out his hands. "It pays to charm the customers who will tell all their friends with deep pockets, good word of mouth will bring more business than advertising ever will." Indeed, aside from ads in trade magazines and websites he'd done little advertising at all since opening the shop. Instead he'd been relying on word of mouth at estate auctions, flea markets, and sales to customers.

So far it had been paying off, slow but sure.

"Is there anything in particular you're looking for?"

"No, not specifically," Jeremy replied, smiling as he nodded in agreement with what Connor had said. "I've just recently moved and have a little more room in my office, so having not brought anything with me from home I was thinking I might find a piece that would be nice to have around. I do like to have something that was made by craftsman of times past, rather than the mass produced pieces of today." He waved a hand non-committally. "So much glass and metal and plastic, so little class, skill and history." He looked around the store briefly before adding, "perhaps a credenza?

"A man after my own heart," Connor nodded in understanding. He didn't mind modern metal and glass furniture, but some things he just preferred the old fashioned hand crafted wood and fabric rather than mass produced items found today. "I have a couple different items that might suit, if you don't like those I can make a point of looking for one for you." He started over toward where the 'office furniture' was located, motioning Jeremy to follow. "Did you have a particular period in mind of just something in general?"

With a half-sheepish smile Jeremy shook his head. "I'm a little eclectic in my tastes, in that I don't tend to go for a period, or style specifically, but rather just the look," he admitted. "Which of course will make it rather difficult for you, I know." He followed Connor as the immortal started to lead him across the store to where the pieces were he mentioned.

There was no doubting the quality of the pieces in the store and it had always been something Jeremy had thought was rather clever of the immortal, being involved in 'antiques' - most of which the man had probably come to know when it was the 'current style'. It was one of the main things that also fascinated him about the immortals, and why he enjoyed learning about them and recording it. Living history as he called it.

"All right, well I guess all I can do is show you what I've got and see if any of them work for you." Connor's smile remained unchanged, though he mentally sighed that this sale wouldn't be as easy as he'd hoped. Still, a credenza was a signifcant peice of furniture and he could make a nice profit off the sale if the man saw something he liked.

"I'm Connor Macleod, you are?"

"Jeremy Cartwright," Jeremy replied, extending his hand to Connor. "I'm fairly new in town, am using Bremerston as a base for my touring around the US, writing. Have you lived here long?" he asked, looking toward the pieces Connor had led them to. He walked over and crouched down, running his hand across the surface of the polished wood, smiling as he opened one of the doors. There was no mistaking the age of the piece, the familiar air of slightly musty papers detectable in the interior of the cupboard.

"I could tell you weren't from this side of the pond originally," Connor replied, somewhat amused. "No, I moved here from New York about a year or so ago. I wanted to get away from the craziness of the city, and this region is known for antiques so it was a natural fit."

He watched as Jeremy lovingly caressed the credenza. "Like what you see? You've a good eye, that's a beauty of a piece and in original condition, all I had to do was clean it up and polish it a bit. The last owner kept it in their study for fifty years and I bought it at their estate sale."

Jeremy nodded, the rich deep red of the polished surface drawing him back to it, despite his attending to the other pieces. "It's lovely, yes," he agreed, straightening and taking a step back. "I do love a piece that has some history to it. Sometimes I think it's a pity there isn't a way to know what it has seen, has witnessed," he added contemplatively, then quickly shaking himself out of the moment of reverie. "Sort of like walls, I guess... if walls could talk, what tales they could tell!" he joked, looking back at the other credenzas as well.

"If only," Connor agreed with a small smirk. "Imagine the tales the walls of Mount Vernon or Monticello could tell, or perhaps your Tower of London?"

"Still, you can get a good idea through the condition of the piece, and with a bit of luck a documentation of it's history. Sometimes just knowing where it's been and who owned it in the past can give you a satisfaction in itself."

He moved in for the kill. "I can tell that you'd be a good caretaker, I can arrange for delivery today if you like." Always assume they've already decided to buy, most of the time it worked like a charm.

Jeremy had never really been one who could say no, and despite the fact he hadn't really discussed purchasing a piece of furniture for his office he was finding it difficult to step back from the piece.

"It is a delightful piece, isn't it?" he said, the small hint of procrastination detectable by any who knew what they were looking for. "I would need to be sure it would fit in the room," he added looking up at Connor. "Perhaps if I could take measurements and check? I wouldn't like to see it moved, risk any marks, if only to find it was too large."

Connor could see the hesitation but there was no real way he could argue against the other man's argument. "Of course. If you like we can go ahead and ring up the sale and I'll refund the money if it turns out you won't be able to make it fit." He didn't want to give the man an easy out, not when it was clear how much he wanted the credenza.

Jeremy nodded when he heard Connor offer to refund, pulling out his wallet and handing him a credit card. "I think your store is going to be very successful, if what I've seen this morning is any example of your style," he joked, his smile and the small twinkle in his eye clearly nullifying any potential for offense. "And can you arrange delivery?" he added as they crossed toward the counter.

Connor grinned wickedly. "I work very hard at making it successful, and making people feel good about their purchases is all part of the job."

He walked behind the counter and rang up the sale, showing the total to Jeremy. "And delivery is part of the service, no extra charge. For beauties like this I tend to take a personal hand in making sure they get to where they need to go smoothly without problems."

Jeremy nodded appreciatively, swallowing a little as he looked at the receipt and wondering if he could claim the large amount of money the credenza cost as a 'research cost'. "That's comforting to know," he replied, folding the receipt and slipping it into his wallet with his card. "And if you had a pen and paper I'd appreciate it if I could borrow one and have a piece of the other, to take a note of the measurements?"

A few minutes later, and measurements snugged safely away in his pocket Jeremy held out his hand to the immortal. "It's been a pleasure, Connor, and I will call you this afternoon with confirmation and the delivery address."

"The pleasure was all mine Jeremy," Connor replied honestly. Between the sale with Fitzgibbens and now this one it had been a very profitable day. "I look forward to seeing it in it's new home. Drive safe."

He glanced at the sales total for the day after the mortal left and started whistling an old drinking tune popular in the Colonial days. A profitable day indeed.