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Only One
By : HollyHobbit13
Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Crossovers
Views: 4468 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
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Jordan's time with her Teacher is very pleasant; they reminisce about the past, catch up with news the other has to tell, and they train -- hard. Her mind has forgotten how unrelenting a taskmaster Duncan MacLeod is; Jordan's sore body, however, reminds her very quickly. The morning begins with relaxing katas; the afternoon passes with intense cardio kickboxing and flexibility training. Afterwards, physically spent, Jordan is scarcely able to walk upright; he physical aches and pains are welcome, for they indicate her fighting skills, though long unused, is indeed present.
A week passes, and Gregory McGulloch is expected for dinner. Jordan and her Teacher work together, chopping and slicing vegetables as Duncan prepares the marinade for their meal. Separating the crushed garlic into a neat pile, he notices Jordan blinking rapidly as she scrapes the sliced onions into a bowl.
"I told you to bite a wooden spoon, Jordie. Hardheaded woman."
"I know, Duncan. I should've listened." She replies, tears streaming down her face.
Jordan washes and dries her hands before perching on a kitchen stool. Dabbing at her eyes with a paper napkin, she nibbles a raw mushroom and watches her Mentor cook.
"Can I help with anything else, Duncan?" she asks.
"Just sit there and look pretty, Jordan." He replies with a wink. Jordan laughs.
"Pretty. I can do pretty.”
Vamping it up, Jordan strikes a sultry pose. Arching her back and giving him her best 'come hither' look, she crosses her eyes, flutters her eyelashes and blows Duncan a raspberry; he gives a piercing catcall and leers at her, a rakish grin on his handsome face as their peals of laughter fill the apartment.
Gregory arrives promptly at 6:00pm, and is delighted to see Jordan when she opens the door and welcomes him in. Looking very distinguished in a pair of dark slacks, Gregory's charcoal and silver sweater sets off his snowy hair nicely. He enters the loft and peers at Jordan appreciatively, for her forest green sleeveless sweater and black pants emphasize her trim figure and exotic beauty. Drying his hands on a dishtowel, the Highlander steps out of the kitchen to welcome his guest. Gregory turns to greet Duncan with a smile and a warm handshake.
After their sumptuous meal, they retire to the living area. Jordan nurses her ginger ale, quietly listening to the men talk as they drink dessert wines. Gregory shares an amusing tale of a recent antique acquisition that has them doubling over in laughter when the phone rings. Excusing himself, Duncan answers it. With an apologetic look directed towards his guests, the Scot takes the call in his office, leaving his guests to become better acquainted.
"So, Jordan; Duncan tells me you're in the medical field." Gregory's sharp gaze rests on her.
"Yes, I'm a Registered Nurse at Seacouver Medical. I work in the Operating Department."
"Ah, a Healer." Gregory says, nodding his head.
"Of sorts... I do help with the healing process, but in a more indirect way. And how did you come to be in the antique business?" Jordan asks, ready to change the subject.
"Oh, I've always been interested in other cultures and artifacts; time is a fickle creature. It dims memory, but preserves it as well. Antiques are the remnants of a time past, and Celtic items are my passion - mainly those of Scotland, England and Ireland—so much history, there is; legends and myths have their roots there. Legends always have a grain of truth in them, you know." Jordan smiles, feeling at ease in his company, until Gregory studies her with a sudden, odd intensity in his eyes.
"How about family? Perhaps a 'Mr. Waters' -- or a significant other for that matter?" Gregory asks.
Inquiring minds want to know . . . !
Arching a shapely brow at him, Jordan smiles before looking away, considering her answer. Her green eyes take on a sad, faraway look before replying.
"No, my parents died a long time ago. As for a 'Mr. Waters' -- “
I don't think there will ever be one... not at the rate I'm going.
“ – It’s challenging to date while working the night shift. But that's okay; Duncan is my family, and I have my work. I'm fine." Jordan answers softly, meeting Gregory's eyes. Her gaze turns to the window, looking towards the gathering darkness.
Who am I trying to convince? Jordan thinks glumly to herself, missing the relieved expression on Gregory's face.
"Ah, there is always someone for everyone. Whether it is in this time or another." Gregory comments, his tone matter of fact.
Something in the older gentleman's voice causes Jordan to look at him with a questioning glance at his odd comment. Not knowing what to say to fill the suddenly awkward silence, Jordan merely smiles to mask her discomfort.
No, he can’t possibly know about Us. Or could he . . . ? Jordan stares at him, unsure where the conversation is heading.
Gregory holds her gaze with a level one of his own; his innocent expression gives nothing away. What began as a pleasant and enjoyable evening is swiftly taking an odd turn; Gregory and Jordan stare at each other for what feels like a lifetime when Duncan returns. Sensing something of importance has just transpired, the Highlander looks between them.
"Did I miss something?" Duncan asks.
"No, old boy, we were just talking. But, I best run along. Thank you for a wonderful dinner; it's getting late for these old bones to be traipsing about. I have several appointments to keep on the morrow, and rest is always a good thing." Turning to Jordan, Gregory gives a slight, gallant bow.
"Jordan, I am very pleased you are here. It saves me the grave disappointment of not seeing your lovely face when you open this."
Gregory reaches into his pant pocket, and with a flourish, presents the small mahogany box. Surprised, Jordan looks at Duncan, an unspoken question in her eyes. The Highlander smiles, leaving the decision to her; with a grin of delight, Jordan accepts the proffered box. It is beautiful; no larger than a credit card in size, silver runes are carved upon its lid. Opening it carefully, nestled inside on a bed of light brown velvet, is an exquisitely crafted leaf encircled by a silver thread. Touching it softly, it feels unusually warm beneath her fingertips.
That's odd, probably from being inside Gregory's pants.
"It's beautiful...um, what is it?"
"That, lovely Jordan -- is a leaf from the fabled woods of Lothlórien." Gregory says. His pleasant voice holds a wistful note. Jordan wonders why the old gent is so affected. Visibly shaking himself, Gregory smiles at Jordan.
"It is yours, Jordan. Please accept this small gift." The older man says.
"Oh, I can't possibly accept it – it's much too valuable." Jordan reluctantly replies as she gazes covetously at the jeweled leaf.
If Gregory is in the same social circle as the Highlander, Jordan knows the older gentleman, as does the Clansman, deals in nothing but high-end antiques and sculptures; if one has to ask the price, then one cannot afford the item.
"This is not a gift for an ordinary girl; I knew the moment we met that this is meant for you. It belongs to you …if you choose to accept it." Gregory says, with an odd ghost of a smile on his lips. "Do you accept it, Jordan Waters?" Gregory asks softly, studying her with an unreadable expression in his eyes. Jordan cannot shake the feeling Gregory's simple query holds more meaning beyond the obvious question. Shaking off the strange vibe, the younger woman clutches the trinket tighter.
Jordan glances quickly at her Mentor, seeking his opinion; unbeknownst to them, Gregory holds his breath as he watches the silent exchange. With a smile and the slightest nod of his head, Duncan gives his blessing. With a wide grin, Jordan turns back to the older man.
"Yes!" she answers eagerly, holding his steady gaze. Nodding in satisfaction, Gregory smiles.
"Then may I assist you?" Gregory asks.
"Please do!" she replies.
The older gentleman reverently lifts the leaf from its bed; the delicate, silver chain glints in the light as Jordan gathers her hair away from her neck. Gregory fastens the clasp behind Jordan's slender neck; the moment it touches her skin, the warmth is unmistakable. Not hot enough to burn, but enough to be noticed. Touching it again, Jordan is surprised to find it cool to the touch.
Curiouser and curiouser Jordan thinks as she turns to Duncan.
"What do you think, Duncan - is it me?" she asks. The emerald leaf makes her eyes glitter in a most becoming way; Duncan looks appraisingly at the necklace and decides it somehow looks right on her.
"Yes, Jordie, I believe it's a keeper." The older man replies
Smiling at the men, Jordan hurries over to a mirror to inspect her gift; she meets Gregory's eyes in the mirror, and again wonders why he watches her so closely.
"Thank you, Gregory. It's beautiful and I love it!" the younger woman exclaims as she clutches the leaf in her hand. It is her first truly expensive piece of jewelry.
"No, Miss Waters, it is I who should thank you for accepting it. Sometimes we need a link to find that person we're meant for." Gregory says, his eyes boring into hers.
This evening is becoming very strange. Jordan thinks as the old gentleman turns to his host.
"Well then; my presence is no longer required here. It is time for me to go. Dear Jordan, please come and walk an old man out." Almost skipping in her pleasure, Jordan hurries over to Gregory and takes his arm. Reaching the door, she looks up at him and stands on tip toe to place a gentle kiss upon his cheek.
"Thank you, Gregory. " she says with all sincerity. With a brief smile and a kiss on her cheek, Gregory steps out the door. Jordan closes it softly behind him.
"Oh, I forgot to ask him what kind of tree this is from!" she exclaims as she opens the door again; somehow Jordan isn't surprised to find the hallway empty.
The next day, after another rigorous morning of more flexibility and strength training, a full contact sparring session with the Highlander follows– which Jordan of course, loses. To console herself, she decides to indulge her sweet tooth. Quickly un-plaiting her hair, Jordan runs her fingers thru her damp raven tresses and shakes it out to dry. Strolling towards the convenience store near Duncan's loft, Jordan hurriedly buttons her overcoat before entering.
The woman slowly savors her Reese's peanut butter cup, stuffing the rest of her purchases into her overcoat pockets as she exits. Turning her face up to the sun, Jordan is enjoying the gentle warmth of its rays when a sudden gust of wind blows her damp hair into her eyes.
“Jordan Waters... “ a soft voice said behind her.
Puzzled, she tucks her hair behind her ears and turns to see who calls her. The streets are eerily empty; not a bird or other sound can be heard. Everything is strangely still and quiet—the place feels as if it is holding it's collective breath. An ominous feeling takes over Jordan and she notices her chest feels strangely hot; touching the Lothlórien leaf, Jordan discovers it to be the source of the increasing, pulsating heat. Suddenly, a bright light shines out of nowhere, dazzling her -- along with an intensely nauseating sensation. Jordan stops in her tracks and takes slow, deep breaths to steady herself as her chocolate threatens to come back up; the ground beneath her feels uneven, her footing becomes unsure as her head spins; Jordan’s equilibrium is oddly affected, and she is falling . . . putting her hands out - with a small cry, Jordan desperately struggles against the darkness that engulfs her.
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Only One	By : HollyHobbit13 Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Crossovers Views: 4468 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: See full disclaimer below.

Only One