The Elvis Minutes #11: Deliverance
DayspringFools rush in, where angels fear to tread,
Joe's a fool for waiting so long to call me.
"Uh, how's it going, buddy?"
"Joe? What's wrong?" I knew that tone. I knew it had something to do with MacLeod.
"Ever heard of a dark quickening?"
I'd muttered a curse, then said the only reasonable thing. "You kill the Immortal. Shoot the bastard, get one of those swords the Watchers are so eager to keep, and take his head, Joe. And for God's sake, DON'T let MacLeod anywhere nearby."
"Listen, Adam, I know Mac's still in there somewhere. He--"
"He what, Dawson? He hasn't acted like a murdering bastard?"
"Well, yeah. I had to shoot him to keep him from taking Richie's head. Then I tied him up. But--"
Fuck, fuck, fuck. "Where is he, Joe? Can you keep him bound until I get there?" More silence. "He got free?"
"Listen, Adam--I let him go. A show of faith. And it worked. See, he didn't kill me. He couldn't. There's--"
No fool like an old fool. And no one knew that better than I. "Where is he?"
"On his way across the Atlantic. He jumped a freighter that's headed to Le Harve."
"I'll try to intercept him there."
"You're not--Listen, Adam, just give him a chance, okay? I swear to you MacLeod can beat this. I know he can."
"Sure, Joe. Your faith. My head." More silence. I was getting damned tired of that. "I'll do my best," I had sighed.
"I know you will. I have faith in you, too."
Then there's MacLeod. A fool who doesn't even know that when you don't know what to do, you should do nothing. If he suspected a dark quickening, he should have--I don't know. He should have done something other than take the quickening inside himself. He should have--called me. Goddamn boy scout!
And then there's the biggest fool of all: moi. Here I am, leaving my dying girlfriend to go and try to save my quickened-out-of-his-mind boyfriend. Karma is a bitch with a very long memory. Take my advice: don't ever think you've got away with shit. It WILL come back to bite you on your arse--painfully.
So now I'm in Le Harve searching for a violent, sword-carrying maniac and hoping I can pull enough rabbits out of my arse to save not only him but myself. Why? Because I'm a fool. And when it comes to Duncan MacLeod, I probably always will be.
Gunshots. A guy stumbling out a door with an angry, gun-toting man still firing and a very distressed looking woman. Must be the right address.
"What do you want, a written invitation?" I ask as the fool just stands there.
I have just a glimpse of his eyes right before he dies, and I become frightfully aware that this particular bit of foolishness…may just be the death of me.
Fools rush in, where wise men never go,
But wise men never fall in love
So how are they to know?
When we met, I felt my life begin,
So open up your heart and let This fool rush in.
Fools Rush In ~ Words & music: R. Bloom/ J. Mercer