Four men are sitting around a table in the middle of a noodle factory, playing mah jong while the workers continue about their business. After the other three players have put down their tiles, Kit O' Brady looks at the silver head of his cane, speaking matter-of-factly while they wait for him.
Kit: "Did you know the interesting thing about this game? Does anyone at this table realize that this game was actually invented by an American? It's an American game. It's absolutely true. Joseph P. Babcock I believe his name was, it was back in the '20s. The remarkable thing about it then was that the game was not known as mah jong it was mah 'jang.'" With emphasis. "Jang." He realizes that the other players are just staring at him, wating. "Oh, sorry, so sorry. We're in the middle of a hand here. All right." He peers at his tiles, laying his cane over the table, and looks at each of players in turn. "Three sets to Li Chang. It's a kong [??] over there. Dragon kong if I'm not mistaken." He looks at the last player. "And Mr. Lin . . ." He looks at Lin, who's staring back at him evenly. " . . . would rather I shut up and just play." He adjusts his pieces. "Which I'm going to do." He kisses the head of his cane, closes his eyes, and reaches for a tile. "My move. Blind. American style." He looks at the tile and adds it to his row, moving his lips as he grabs both ends of the set. "I don't know this game that well . . ." He flips the tiles down, exposing the pieces. " . . . but I think they call this--if I'm not wrong--" He gestures to the last two pieces. "Dragon Wu." The other players (who have not said a word the entire time) begin to throw in their money in disgust, and Kit gets up, clapping his hands in triumph. "Yes! Oh, some days are--Oh! this is so good." He beigns to gather up the money. "Thank you very much, gentlemen, I really enjoyed playing with you all night, you guys are real sports." He puts a few bills in the center of the table. "Tell you what, breakfast is on me and my apologies to your wives, keeping you out all night. Thank you very much, fellas. Oh, I enjoyed this night so much, you guys are wonderful to play with . . ." [see Notes] As he goes on, still collecting the money, the door behind him bursts open and Ray walks in.
Ray: "I see your luck has changed, Kit."
Kit: "Oh, not now, be reasonable. I'm on a roll right here. Can't you see what just happened? I've got something going on here. You know how much I've won? Sixty-five grand."
Ray: "Oh, good. Then you only owe us another hundred and fifty thousand."
Kit: "Be reasonable. I need this money. I've got a thouroughbred I'm going to buy, and I'll get you all your money back."
Ray pulls a gun and sticks it in Kit's neck: "You have two choices."
Kit: "Uh, now don't tell me. First choice . . . I die?"
Ray: "Or you die."
Kit mulls: "Let me think this over . . ." He abruptly slugs the thug with his cane, and dashes for the door. His retreat is cut off by another goon, and as Kit swerves Ray gets up and pulls a gun. He shoots Kit in the back several times as Kit throws himself down the garbage chute, and even after Kit vanishes his runs over and continues firing down the shaft.
Kit drops out into a dumpster in the basement, still clutching the suitcase of money. Two men stare at him in wonder, and he tries to get to his feet.
Kit, weakly: "Just my luck, the guy can shoot . . ." He tries to get up. "Could be worse, I could have fallen in a sewer . . ." He collapses.
One of the men runs, but the other picks up the dropped suitcase. He sees the money, then hears the gunmen coming down. He hastily conceals the case and Kit's body with garbage, and steps back.
Ray: "Bastard. I know I hit him." He looks around the room, and grabs the worker, threatening him with his gun. "The white man. Where did he go?"
The worker points silently out the back door, and Ray takes off. When he's gone, the worker picks up the money, laughing as he runs his hands through it. [At this point, there's a strange Eerie Sound Effect, which I presume is the noise that immortals make when they revive and there's no one around to hear it. Or something. Anyway, it was kinda interesting. --Jinjifore] But even as he does so, Kit rises from the garbage, muttering.
Kit: "Where's my bag?" He spots it in the worker's hands, and reaches for it. "Oh, you got it! Great!" He takes it. "Thank you very much, indeed." He closes it, and then catches sight of the man, still standing there as if still holding the suitcase, his face stunned. "Hey, cheer up. Hey, sometimes they stay dead, sometimes they don't." He climbs delicately out of the garbage. "Excuse me . . ." He runs out through the back door, leaving the worker standing there, frozen, moaning softly to himself.
At the house, Duncan is working on the ducts in the basement when he hears a sneeze, and at the same time senses another immortal. He looks around, and a moment later Kit ducks through the door.
Duncan smiles: "Hey, Kit!"
Kit, warmly: "MacLeod. How are you?"
Duncan, still smiling: "Kit."
They laugh heartily as Duncan walks up, setting aside his tools.
Kit: "Great to see you."
Duncan: "How are you?" He goes to hug him, but Kit moves away.
Kit: "Please, please don't hug me."
Kit peels back his overcoat, looking at his suit: "These clothes were made in Macao, I don't need all this on them."
Duncan: "Well, I'm not dirty."
Duncan: "I thought you were coming by the dojo."
Kit: "Well, I got in early, thought I'd come by and see what you were up to." He looks around. "Exactly what are you up to?"
Kit: "You know, there--there's people you can hire to do this sort of thing for you. You pay them. They're called workers."
Duncan: "Well, maybe you should try it."
Kit: "Oh, no." He holds up his hand. "See these hands? Not one solitary callus. Now that's something a man can be proud of."
(All the cuts to and from the flashback, by the way, are made by showing a close-up of a spinning gold coin--presumably a Double Eagle.)
Davis is reaching over a card table, picking up cards, but as he does Duncan seizes him, turning his wrist up to expose the Aces strapped to his cuff.
Duncan, holding up the card and smiling: "You ought to be faster than that if you want to hustle the table."
Davis pulls out a tiny gun: "Faster than this?" He starts to stand, backing away, but before he gets far Kit brings his cane down on his wrist, forcing him to drop the gun.
Kit: "Now, two things I will not abide, Davis, is sneaky little guns, and people who cheat at my tables." He slams his cane into Davis's gut, then punches him and gets his arm twisted around his cane. "Now, let's go outside. That hurts, huh? All right, [well, you're off for the] night."
Davis: "You have broken my arm!"
Kit takes him and gives him a push down the stairs, watching as he rolls down to the bottom. He strolls back into the main room, and finds the patrons all staring at him.
Kit: "Oh, ladies and gentleman, please, the show's over. There was nobody killed or anything. Go back to drinking and gambling your little greedy hearts out." He goes on, and approaches MacLeod. "MacLeod. I'm mortified."
Duncan picks up his chips and starts walking away: "There was no need. Atfter all, my life wasn't in danger."
Kit, following: "Yeah, but he would have ruined a perfect good shirt, and that would have been unforgivable."
Duncan stops and nods at the table: "Well, I hope you can restore my losses."
Kit, feigning surprise: "Oh, that's right, you had--you had a bet out there. How much did you have?"
Duncan, pitiably: "At least two thousand."
Kit, exasperated: "No, wait, it wasn't."
Duncan: "Yes, it was . . ."
They both pause as they suddenly sense another immortal. Duncan looks around as the feeling hits him, and Kit sneezes, causing Duncan to look at him.
Kit: "Every time, it's like an allergy . . ."
They look to the door and see Amanda, decked out in a red and black dress, make her entrance. The surrounding men all turn to her like their heads were on strings, and Duncan bounces on his toes, grinning in what looks like a mix of pleasure and apprehension.
Kit: "Now that is what I call style."
Duncan: "That is Amanda."
Kit watches as she walks in. A man comes up to her, saying, "Whoever you are, you're exquisite!"
Amanda, touching his chin with her fingers: "Merci, Monsieur."
Kit: "Oh, the lady can make an entrance."
Duncan, dryly: "You should see her exit."
Kit: "Introduce us."
Duncan looks a little dubious, but a moment later Amanda catches his eye and comes over, holding out her hand and fluttering her lashes. Duncan walks up to greet her, taking her hand and bending to kiss it.
Duncan, unenthusiastic: "Amanda. Good evening."
Amanda: "Bon [??] MacLeod. C'est va?" [Right. It's French. Even in a show set in America, I cannot escape it . . . Um, help? --Jinjifore]
Duncan freezes in the act of kissing her hand, looking up at her as if she's lost her mind. She flicks her eyes to Kit and back, urging him not to give away the game as she extends her hand to Kit.
Kit, admiringly: "French." He kisses her hand. "How do you do?"
Duncan: "This is Kit O' Brady, the owner of this den of iniquity."
Amanda: "Enchante." [Right. That's it. I'm buying a cheapo French dictionary before "Deliverance" rolls around. --Jinjifore]
Kit: "Oh, the pleasure's mine." To Duncan. "She's French, I like that." He takes Amanda's arm. "Welcome to the Double Eagle. You must find this terribly, terribly, terribly provencial after being in Europe all that time."
Amanda, affecting a French accent: "Oh, not at all, the body on the steps was a nice touch."
Kit: "Oh, well I do try."
Amanda, looking around: "Oh, this place is magnifique."
Kit: "'Magnifique.' Thank you very much. Thank you."
Amanda takes a glass of champagne, gesturing to the sign on the wall: "Now, the Double Eagle, is that a family cwest?"
Kit looks puzzled: "'Cwest?'"
Kit, getting it: "'Crest!' No, a coin. It's a coin." He hands his drink to Duncan so he can point to the sign himself. "That is the actual coin, right in the center there. You see, we mounted it. When I first sailed into San Francisco all those years ago, the only thing I had in my pocket was that gold coin. And to tell you the truth--"
Duncan, interrupting: "He wouldn't have any of this without it." He laughs weakly. "He could go on like this all night." Hurrying on. "But I think our game's arrived, so . . ." He looks over to where a dark-bearded gentleman has just entered, a lady on either arm.
Amanda, turns back: "Cards? How exciting. Do you think, maybe, I might join in?"
Behind Kit's back, Duncan is shaking his head, mouthing "No."
Kit, oblivious: "Oh, you play?"
Amanda: "Oh, just a little whist, now and then."
Kit, turning to Duncan: "A little whist."
Duncan: "I don't think this is a good idea--"
Kit, to Amanda: "Of course you could play." He takes her hand. "It would be my great pleasure to teach you the game. I'll just go and see to the Count." He bustles off, and Duncan immediate seizes Amanda's arm.
Duncan: "No cheating."
Amanda, dropping the accent: "When did I ever--?"
Duncan: "None whatsoever."
Amanda, back in accent again: "Very well."
Duncan, hissing: "And what's with this phony French accent?"
Amanda, reproachful: "You used to be so much fun." She moves away.
Duncan, sweetly, to himself: "It's not even that good."
Duncan: "What do you say we grab some lunch?"
Kit: "Well, I'd love it if we could make that dinner. I've got a really important meeting I can't . . . I can't miss it, so . . ."
Duncan: "Well, sure, dinner's fine. I know a great Italian."
Kit, making an apologetic face: "Italian. I've been craving Chinese."
Duncan, making his own face: "Well, I had Chinese last night."
Kit, digging in his pockets: "Okay, I have the answer. We'll flip for it."
Duncan: "Well, why can't we just choose like everybody else?"
Kit: "Come on, no guts no glory. We'll flip for it."
Duncan, giving in: "All right. Tails it's Italian."
Kit, agreeing: "Tails it's Italian." He flips the coin.
Duncan looks at it and smirks in triumph.
Kit, shaking his head: "Boy, have I been on a bad run, MacLeod, you wouldn't believe it."
Duncan: "How bad?"
Kit: "A hundred and seven years."
Duncan, looking vaugely guilty, nods: "Eh, maybe you should quit gambling?" Smiles brightly and raises his eyebrows.
Kit: "I'm not gambling. I've come eight thousand miles on a sure thing. The perfect horse, and I've found her." Duncan nods, amused. "I must go, I'll see you tonight, we'll have a nice big bowl of chow mein together." He turns and walks out.
Duncan, reminding him: "Pasta."
Kit: "Hey?" But he keeps going.
Duncan comes home to the loft, but even as he steps out of the gate he senses another immortal. He looks around, and Amanda emerges from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel.
Amdana, walking towards him: "MacLeod."
Duncan stares for a moment, clearly at a loss: "You ever heard of calling ahead?"
Amanda, still slinking across the floor towards him, shrugs: "You know me. I like surprises."
Duncan looks her up and down: "So I noticed." Amanda smiles. "You planning on staying?"
Amanda looks over her shoulder to the two trunks stacked by the wall, then turns back, looking, for the first time, a little uncertain.
Amanda, hesitant: "Well, I was hoping to. If you don't mind." Duncan makes a strangled, noncomittal noise. "What do you say?"
Duncan looks at her, and struggles to smile: "Welcome home."
She smiles and kisses him, and as the camera cuts to their feet we see the towel fall, and one leg snake up, then the other disappear as she jumps into Duncan's arms.
While Duncan comes out of the bathroom, changed and showered, Amanda is cooking in the kitchen.
Amanda: "It's beef stroganoff. I had this in the Winter Palace in St. Petersburg with Czar Nicholas the Second." She tastes her own concoction, and quickly reaches for a napkin to wipe her mouth. "It may have tasted better then." She leaves the pot and goes to Duncan. "What are you doing? You're all dressed up." She moves closer, reaching up to put her hands on his chest. "I thought we'd have dinner in bed."
Duncan, feigning delight: "Dinner? Oh." He moves over and bends down to sniff the pot, while Amanda protests faintly from behind.
Amanda: "But . . . not . . . that . . ."
Duncan lifts his head quickly after taking a sniff, and turns to her. Downstairs, a car horn beeps.
Duncan: "It's seven o' clock."
Duncan, quickly: "Why don't you go ahead without me? I'll be right back."
Amanda rushes to intercept him as he tries to leave: "By myself?" She puts her arms around his neck. "Listen, I know the stroganoff isn't any good, but we could have Italian, or Chinese . . ."
Duncan: "Anything. But, I'll be right back."
Duncan kisses her forehead and steps into the elevator. He goes downstairs, and immediately senses another immortal. Another sneeze precedes Kit through the door, and Duncan takes a step forward.
Duncan: "Kit. Hi."
Kit, looking around: "My god, MacLeod, is this where you live? No wonder you're working on that house."
Duncan, nervous: "No, actually I live upstairs."
Kit: "Oh, that's quite nice."
Duncan: "Yeah, it is."
Kit starts toward the elevator, but Duncan rushes to cut him off.
Duncan: "No, you don't want to go up there right now, it's . . ."
Kit: "I don't want to go up there?"
Duncan: "There's nothing to see." He stops firmly in fron of him. "It's a mess."
Kit: "It's a mess." He shrugs. "Well, fine, we'll go out."
Duncan: "Kit, about that dinner. Can we just put it off. For now?"
Kit: "Mac, this is very important."
Duncan: "I know. I know it is, it's just that . . . Not right now. Tomorrow morning is . . . Now's not a good time."
Kit, suspicious: "Why?" Then his face clears. "Ah. There's a lady upstairs."
Duncan smiles feebly. "Yeah, I got it. Introduce me." He steps forward, Duncan protesting as he retreats.
Kit, insistent: "Introduce me."
Duncan, still retreating: "She's shy. She's shy."
Kit: "Aw, she's shy." He backs off. "Okay, the picture's clear, okay, fine. As long as you promise me, tomorrow."
Duncan: "I promise."
Kit: "Without fail."
Duncan: "No, without fail."
Kit: "I'm just thinking the last time I actually saw you with a lady." He walks to the center of the dojo, leaning his cane against a practice post. "You remember that?"
Duncan, casual: "No."
Kit, turning to look at him: "Sure you do!" His voice hardens. "It was that thieving bitch, Amanda."
Duncan, making a noise of disbelief: "Oh, Kit, I'm surprised you remember her."
Kit looks at him: "Amanda?" He turns back to the practice post, hefting a wooden practice sword in his hand. "Ooh, I remember her. Not a day goes by I don't think about . . . Amanda."
Amanda, Duncan, Kit and the Count are sitting around a card table, a pile of chips in the center. Amanda has just pushed a considerable pile to the center of the table.
Duncan: "Are you sure you want to do that?"
Amdana, innocently nervous: "Did I do something wrong?"
Kit, reassuring: "No, no, quite good." He looks at the Count. "[How about a] raise there, Count?"
The Count tosses in his cards: "Not with this hand. Too rich for my blood."
Kit: "Count's out." He turns to Amanda. "Banker's long gone, I'm still in, Mac's out. Just you and me, Amanda." She smiles prettily. He tosses some chips in. "Seems a slight raise in there. And, uh, to make it interesting, I am going to raise you ten thousand dollars." He tosses the chips in. Duncan looks at Amanda smugly, as her jaw drops. "[This be enough?]"
Amanda, dismayed: "But, this is all I have."
Duncan, patronizing: "No, this is poker, Amanda. You have to see him, or you're out."
Amanda reluctantly pushes her chips to the middle of the table.
Kit, murmuring: "Thatta girl. All right." He starts to put his cards out.
Amanda: "Now, can I raise him again?"
Duncan's face sobers, and he says warily: "You don't have any money left."
Amanda reaches up and pulls off her earrings, waving them around: "These are worth twenty-five thousand. A prince gave them to me."
Kit picks up the earrings: "A prince?"
Kit: "A piker!" He weighs the jewels in his palm. "Maybe. Maybe on a good day . . . I'm sorry. Five thousand dollars. On a good day."
Amanda looks doubtful, and the Count leans forward.
Count: "You throw in that dress, and I'll stake you the rest."
Amanda, firmly: "Monsieur, this dress does not come off . . . for less than a million." The Count coughs and retreats.
Kit, watching in amusement: "Too rich for your blood there, Count?"
Amanda unfastens her necklace: "But, I will add this. This is worth forty thousand." She tosses it onto the pile of chips, while Duncan and Kit look on, astonished. The diamonds glisten in the light, and as the other patrons gather around, sensing a showdown, Kit picks up the necklace. He looks at Duncan.
Duncan: "You asked her to play."
Kit inspects the necklace.
Amanda: "What is the matter, Monsieur, were you afraid of a little whisk?"
Kit glares: "'Little whisk?'" He throws the necklace back. "No." He looks around. "Could I have the top card on the suit, please. And could I please borrow your pen, Mike?" He slaps the card down, saying, "I hope you'll accept my IOU, on this card." Amanda shrugs, and Kit starts writing. "'Let this represent the deed to the Double Eagle Saloon.'" The crowd gasps, and the Count laughs. Duncan looks nervous, and leans foward as Kit asks Amanda, "You accept that? I'm the single proprietor."
Duncan: "Kit, hold on, just one second."
Duncan: "This is going too far . . ."
Kit, nearly shouting: "This is fine! I live for games like this. This is the best game since I came into San Francisco. Thank you madam." He holds up the card. "Do you accept?"
Amanda shrugs again: "Oui, Monsieur."
Kit puts the card in: "Pot's level." He looks at her. "Remember that I mentioned that a full house was a very good hand? That's three of one kind . . ." He turns up three Kings. " . . . and two of another." He turns up two nines.
Amanda's mouth hangs open, and the crowd begins to congratulate Kit, who waves them off modestly. Amanda, biting her lips, looks at Kit.
Amanda: "But all I have are two pairs . . ."
Kit reaches for the pot: "That's not very good."
Amanda, dropping the accent: "Of Queens." She puts them down.
Kit stares: "That's not possible."
Amanda smiles, and reaches for the card that represents the deed to the saloon, tugging gently when Kit refuses to let go. His lower lip is quivering in protest, but she finally pulls it away.
Amanda: "This calls for a little celebration." She stands up. "Gentleman, drinks are on me." She turns to the crowd. "Welcome! Welcome to the Double Eagle. I'm Amanda, your new host."
Kit turns to the glare at Duncan, who's sitting with a reluctant, "told you so" expression on his face.
Kit lifts the wooden sword up.
Kit: "Not a day goes by, I don't think about . . . Amanda . . ." He whirls and strikes the wooden head clean off the practice post, breaking the two-inch-thick sword with the force of the blow. There's a crash of glass, as it goes through the office window, and he turns back to Duncan and finishes, " . . . dead." The next second, he's shaking Duncan's hand, pleasant and amiable once more. "Gosh, Mac. It's good seeing you."
Duncan, weakly: "It's good seeing you, too."
Kit hands him the sword: "Sorry about your stick."
Duncan, brightly: "Oh, no problem."
Kit: "It's embarassing for me." He walks off, leaving Duncan looking at the broken sword.
Duncan and Amanda are having breakfast. Amanda is sitting at the kitchen island, reading the paper and watching Duncan dither. He gets the coffee pot, then goes to the fridge for orange juice. When he turns, she raises her brows and he realizes that he doesn't have the coffee anymore.
Duncan: "Oh. Left the coffee . . . in the fridge . . ." He gets the coffee, and Amanda looks at him.
Amanda: "Is there something wrong?"
Duncan, brightly casual: "Wrong? Why? What could be wrong?"
Amanda: "I don't know. You just seem a little distracted."
Duncan, making a cute pouty face, as if flattered that she cared: "Aw." He kisses her cheek.
Amanda, not buying it: "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were hiding something."
Duncan, pouring his juice, laughs: "What would I have to hide?"
Amanda, considers: "Nothing." She gets up and goes to him. "I'm sorry. I forgot who I was talking to." Duncan makes a "yeah, that's me Mr. Innocent" noise. "Will you forgive me?" She kisses him. While their kissing, though, they sense another immortal.
Amanda: "You expecting someone?"
Duncan, blandly, and far too quickly: "Richie, it must be Richie." Amanda shrugs and starts for her seat again, but Duncan decides abruptly that it's time to go. "You want to hear a lecture?" He pulls on her arm, leading her to the coatrack. "At the University. I teach. Did I tell you I teach?" Amanda allows him to drape her coat over her shoulders, but her face says clearly that she's smelling the rat. "They're doing Saint Thomas Aquinas. Universals, The Nature of Truth. Right up your alley." He starts to urge her toward the door.
Amanda: "What's wrong with the elevator?"
Duncan, quickly: "Broken. I've been having trouble with it lately." On cue, the elevator starts up. Amanda turns and gives him a look. "Well, there you go. On. Off." He smiles. "I better get it seen to." He starts off, but Amanda pulls him back.
Amanda: "Forget Aquinas." Sarcastic. "I haven't seen Richie in ages."
Duncan: "Same old Richie, nothing's new. If we hurry we can still make it."
Amanda, pulling back sharply: "I don't want to go to a lecture. I want to see who's coming up this elevator." She turns and faces the gate, folding her arms over her waist.
The elevator reaches the top and the gate slides up to reveal . . . Richie.
Duncan, relieved and delighted: "Richie!" He turns to Amanda. "It's Richie."
Richie: "It's me." He spreads his arms. "Hey, Amanda! How are you?" He kisses her cheek and hugs her.
Amanda: "Hi, Richie. I'm fine."
Duncan: "It's great to see you, Rich."
Richie: "It's good to see you, too, Mac."
Duncan, throwing an arm over his shoulders: "You look great!"
Jim Rainey, voice over as we cut from Duncan and Richie to the racetrack: "She's a winner, Mr. O' Brady."
Kit: "Let's do the deal. I'm ready. Give me the paper, I'll sign it."
Rainey hesitates: "There's just one problem."
Rainey: "I got an offer for one-twenty."
Kit, raising his voice in panic: "But you told me sixty-five thousand dollars, I could have this horse. What are you doing to me here?"
Rainey, speaking over him: "Look, what I said was I thought she'd sell in the neighborhood of sixty-five thousand." He shrugs. "Neighborhood changed."
Kit: "Hundred and twenty."
Rainey, final: "One twenty." He walks off, leaving Kit standing there. Kit looks down, and sighs heavily.
In the loft, the phone is ringing. Duncan walks over and picks it up.
Kit: "Mac, it's Kit. Could you come meet me? I'm down at the track."
Duncan, glancing over his shoulder: "Uh, yeah, sure. At the University Commons." He smiles at Amanda and Richie.
Kit: "MacLeod, the racetrack. Conway Greens. Look, forget it, I'll come up there."
Duncan drops his voice to a mere whisper: "Nononono. Don't do that." Raises his voice again. "Uh, that won't be necessary. I'll be right there." He hangs up, and turns to Amanda and Richie. "Emergency." He goes for his coat.
Amanda: "Emergency. What kind of emergency can a school have?"
Duncan, defensive: "Well, it happens." He gestures to Richie, who's still smiling, nodding in agreement. "Listen, why don't you hang around with Richie? I'm sure you guys got a lot to talk about."
Amanda: "With Richie." Richie's face falls.
Duncan, taking her arm: "Well why not? You haven't seen him in a long time. Listen, I'll be back as soon as I can." He plumps her down in a chair and kisses her soundly, then turns and grabs Richie as he heads out, speaking urgently into his ear. "Don't let her follow me."
Richie, in a whisper as Amanda strains to hear: "Where you going"
Duncan: "To the track."
Richie: "What's at the track?"
Duncan, getting in the elevator: "Never mind. Just keep her here." He leaves.
Richie turns back to Amanda: "So, uh, Amanda."
She looks up at him, and smiles dangerously.
At the track, Duncan and Kit are watching the horse at her workout.
Duncan: "'Double Eagle?' You've got to be kidding me."
Kit, ignoring his skepticism: "Oh, this horse is meant for me. Look at the way she fights that lad." He nudges him. "This is like fate, MacLeod."
Duncan: "Yeah, it's coincidence. Nobody buys a horse on their name."
Kit: "It's more than just that.This is a blue-chip investment, this is a two-year-old filly. See the move she made at the three-eights pole?"
Duncan: "Yeah, I saw."
Kit, still talking: "This is [???]"
Duncan: "Yes . . ." He straightens up and faces him, suddenly getting it. "Is this why you brought me here?"
Kit, all innocence: "No. I mean, come on, MacLeod. You've always been an astounding judge of horseflesh, and I value your opinion." He collects his coat and cane and they walk off together.
Duncan, as they walk: "Well, my opinion is that she can run."
Kit: "So you think it's a good deal."
Duncan: "Well, if you're in the market for a racehorse, yeah."
Kit: "Which we are." Duncan stops dead at the "we." Kit turns to face him. "Come on, what's the matter? We'll take a closer look at her. This won't take long." He takes Duncan's arm, pulling him along. "Come on, come on."
Back at the loft, Amanda is standing up, slinking over to Richie.
Amanda: "Richard . . ."
Richie, nervous: "Amanda."
Amanda walks up to him: "You look different." She goes behind him and slips his jacket off. "I think it's your shoulders, they seem much bigger than the last time I saw you. Have you been working out?"
Richie: "No, not especially."
Amanda, running her hands over his shoulders from behind: "Oh, I think you have, because I feel much, much bigger." She starts kneading his shoulders. "Very tight, though. Does that feel good?"
Richie, reluctantly: "Yeah, it does, actually."
Amanda: "So, what's she like?"
Richie, distracted: "Who?"
Amanda: "The one that MacLeod's seeing."
Richie breaks away, turning to face her: "Come on, Amanda, MacLeod is not seeing anyone."
Amanda: "Well, then why did he go to church?"
Richie: "He didn't go to church, he went to school. He's like, some kind of visiting professor."
Amanda, circling him, running her hands over him: "Visiting who?"
Richie, turning and trying to defend himself against her wandering hands: "Where?"
Amanda: "At the airport?"
Richie, losing serious ground: "It's not an airport, it's a school, it's like a University."
Amanda starts running her fingers through his hair: "I really like your hair like this." Richie moans. "Is she pretty?"
Richie, nearly whimpering: "Who?"
Amanda: "The one MacLeod's seeing."
Amanda: "So she's ugly."
Richie: "Yes! No." He tries to pull himself together. "Look, I told you, Amanda, he is not seeing anyone."
Amanda leans close, nearly kissing him, her lips about two millimeters from his: "Where?"
Richie, desperate: "At the airport. I mean the school. I mean the . . . Look, Amanda, he's not seeing anyone."
Amanda, leaing in again: "At the airport?"
Richie: "No, at the racetrack. I mean the school!" Amanda draws back, smiling. "Amanda!"
Amanda fetches her coat and takes his face in her hand: "Thanks, Richie. You're the best." She kisses him and gets in the elevator.
Richie: "Amanda, please, he's going to kill me."
Amanda: "I know." She smiles. "Bye-bye."
At the track, Duncan and Kit are looking at Double Eagle.
Kit: "Oh, this one's nice. MacLeod, come on have you ever seen a filly with such promise as this one?"
Duncan, looking at the horse: "Ah, she's got great confirmation . . ."
Kit: "Great confirmation."
Duncan: "She's real clean, straight leg, not behind at the knee."
Kit, in a longing tone: "Yeah, she's perfect. This is my Double Eagle, MacLeod. I can feel it in my gut. If I can get this horse, I can end this hundred and seven year losing streak I've been on since that bitch Amanda put me there."
Duncan laughs: "Oh, come on, Kit. You can't blame all your bad luck on Amanda."
Kit: "Oh, no? Okay, after she took my saloon from me, I won a ticket to Alaska in a crap game."
Duncan: "Well, there, you see? You won the ticket."
Kit: "The steamer sank off of Portland with all hands."
Kit, nodding with him: "Okay. Tell me about bad luck, please."
Duncan, still trying: "But, Kit, if you got to know her, you might even get to like her."
Kit: "Oh, you think so?"
Duncan: "Oh, yeah."
Amanda and Duncan are standing in the main room of the Double Eagle. The place is empty except for a few employees.
Amanda: "Ah, yes. Poor Kit." She seems to forget about him in her next sentence, though. "You know, I think we should get lots of women in here, lots of wealthy, wealthy women."
Duncan: "Amanda . . ."
He and Amanda look to the door as they both sense another immortal. Kit comes through, sneezing, and Duncan goes to him.
Duncan: "Kit, I was worried about you."
Kit, swaying ever so slightly: "No need to worry about me, my good friend MacLeod." He comes up to him, woozing forward. "I've been very busy the last few days. I've had to put together all the money that I have, plus quite a lot that I didn't." He turns to look at Amanda.
Amanda, sweetly: "Well, Kit, you are welcome to come here any time you want to gamble."
Kit: "Gamble? What are you talking about, you stupid woman." He starts around the table, Duncan ducking around to keep himself between Kit and Amanda. "I've come back to buy my casino back that you took from me."
Amanda turns away, strolling down the length of the table: "Then I'm afraid you've wasted your time, Mr. O' Brady, because it's not for sale."
Kit, coming around the other side of the table, Duncan still following: "What are you talking about? I've amassed a fortune in this case. What are going to tell me, this place is not for sale?" He stops in front of Amanda, and again Duncan sidles between them.
Duncan: "Kit . . ."
Amanda: "I mean, I like it and it's not for sale." She turns away, but Kit grabs her arm.
Kit: "You don't seem to understand. The Double Eagle is my place, I built it from nothing." He raises his voice. "The Double Eagle is my life!"
Amanda, controlled and furious: "Well, it's my life now. And it's not for sale and don't ever--" She jerks her arm back. "--touch me again."
Duncan eases Kit back: "I'll talk to her, Kit, I'll talk to her."
Kit is ignoring him, though: "Touch her?" He starts shouting, stabbing his finger at Amanda. "No thieving French harlot, with a coiffure, is going to steal my place from me and get away with it."
Duncan: "He didn't mean that . . ."
Amanda backhands him: "I'm not French!"
Kit, holding his eye, but calm now: "Yeah, but you cheated."
Duncan, still trying to make peace: "No one cheated." He turns to Amanda. "Did you."
Amanda, shouting: "No!"
Kit, his voice rising again: "Well, Kit O' Brady does not lose games like that, in the Double Eagle, with my coin there!" He points to it, and a sly, smug look creeps over Amanda's face.
Amanda, sweetly: "You know, it's funny. But I never liked that name, the Double Eagle?" Kit looks at her in horror. "I've changed it. To the Queen of Spades." She flounces away, gesturing to a new sign on the wall. It says "Queen of Spades Casino," and the woman in the picture bears a certain resemblence to Amanda. Kit stares, then recovers.
Kit, with dignity, addresses the bartender: "Winston, my good man."
Winson: "Yes, sir."
Kit, walking to the bar, pointing to the Double Eagle sign: "Would you be so good as to retrieve my coin from its place there?"
Amanda: "Winston! Ah, Winston, Winston." She glares at Kit. "Leave it."
Kit: "Go ahead, Winston, it's all right."
Amanda: "I said, leave it!"
Kit: "Winston, please give me the coin. Get it."
Amanda: "Leave it."
Kit: "Get it."
Amanda: "Leave it!"
Amanda ignores him: "I won this place, lock, stock and barrel. Coin included."
Kit: "That is my lucky piece and I am not leaving without it."
Amanda turns to the bouncers: "Would you please show this gentleman to the street?"
Duncan rushes to stop them: "That will not be necessary."
Kit, plaintively, to Duncan: "It's my lucky piece."
Duncan, throwing his arm around Kit's shoulders: "It's his lucky piece."
Amanda, sarcastically whimpering: "Oh, boo-hoo."
Kit once again gathers the rags of his dignity around him: "That's it. MacLeod, thank you very much for your effort. Winston, don't know what to say to you . . ." He walks out.
Duncan follows him for a few steps, looking after him, then seizes Amanda's arm as she goes by.
Duncan: "Amanda, why did you have to do that?"
Amanda: "He called me a cheat!" She calms down a little. "Besides, he's going to be fine."
In the hall, Kit loses his balance and falls down the stairs, tumbling to the bottom. Inside, Amanda and Duncan look at each other, a little guiltily.
Duncan, tightly: "Eventually." He goes after Kit, and Amanda flounces off, leaving the sign on the wall behind them.
Kit and Duncan are walking back up from the stables.
Kit: "It's not bad, actually. What would you say if I told you a hundred and twenty thousand?"
They both stop as they sense an immortal.
Duncan, even as he looks around: "That seems about right."
Kit sneezes explosively: "Every damn time . . ." He starts to cast around, but Duncan puts a hand on his arm.
Duncan: "No, that'll be Richie. He's a friend of mine, I asked him to meet me down here."
Kit: "Okay, I'm coming."
Duncan: "Nononono. Don't do that. Uh, I'll be right back." He forces a smile on his face. "You don't want to lose that deal, right?"
Kit: "No. Okay, so I'll wait right here?"
Duncan, nodding eagerly: "Yeah, right. I'll be right back."
Kit: "Okay." He moves off, and Duncan starts for the steps in a hurry.
Richie is waiting on the landing, looking around, and turns as Duncan comes up from below.
Duncan: "What are you doing here?"
Richie, reluctant: "Amanda . . . found out where you were."
Duncan: "What do you mean, found out?"
Richie: "Well, I didn't mean to tell her, Mac, but she started talking, and doing things, and . . . well, I didn't stand a chance," he admits glumly.
Duncan, bitterly: "You wouldn't be the first." He takes his arm hustles him up the steps. "We can't let her find him."
Richie: "Find who?"
They stop as they sense someone, and turn to see Kit coming up the steps.
Kit: "There you are."
Duncan: "How's the deal going?"
Kit: "Well, I'm ready to sign, but I need you. There's a couple of points we need to go over with the trainers--"
Duncan: "Uh, tell you what." He points at Richie. "This is Richie, he handles most of my financial affairs. Kit, Richie. Richie, Kit."
Kit: "How do you do?"
Duncan pats Richie on the shoulder: "He does this thing all the time." To Richie, in an undertone. "Just do it, keep him happy." To Kit. "I'll be back in a moment." He starts up the steps.
Richie: "Uh, Mac . . ." He sends his eyes down.
Duncan stops, realizing he's going the wrong way: "Oh, yeah." He starts down again. "I'll be back."
Richie turns to Kit: "So, now what?"
Kit: "Well, Richie a few things about buying a thoroughbred . . ."
Richie and Kit start up the clubhouse, and Duncan dashes down. Just as he reaches the stalls, he senses someone, and rounds the corner to find Amanda.
Duncan, feebly: "What a surprise."
Amanda: "I'll bet it is."
Amanda and Duncan are still down at the stalls, Amanda pacing.
Amanda: "Just tell me who she is."
Duncan: "She, who?"
Amanda, exasperated and hurt: "Would you just stop it?" She walks over to Duncan. "Tell me what you see in her." She hangs her head, twisting her hands, for once genuinely upset. Duncan, looking at her, hears a horse whinny, and gets an idea. He takes her arm, and they start walking.
Duncan: "All right." They walk. "Beautiful brown eyes. Amazing legs."
Amanda looks at him: "Better than mine?"
Duncan takes her arm gently: "Well, what can I say? She has a powerfulchest, endless stamina. Doesn't let up in a final stretch . . ." Amanda smacks his arm. "Ow!"
Duncan stops, gesturing at Double Eagle: "And four great feet!"
Amanda stares at the horse, squinting in disbelief: "A horse?" She turns to Duncan as Richie trots up from behind them. "You're here about a horse? Why didn't you just tell me?"
Duncan shrugs sheepishly: "Ah, well, you know . . ."
Richie comes up and claps Duncan on the shoulder, ecstatic: "I did it, Mac. Yes! I closed the deal."
Duncan, flatly: "What deal?"
Richie: "You know. To buy the horse."
Amanda's mouth drops open, and she looks at Duncan in happy adoration. They look at the horse, and then back at each other, Amanda clasping her hands over her chest.
Amanda: "For me?" She melts into Duncan's arms, kissing him, while Richie looks on, pleased with himself. "Oh, it's just what I've always wanted." She kisses him soundly. "You shouldn't have, though." She lets him go and runs off to look at the horse.
Duncan: "Tell me about it." His voice hardens and he grabs Richie, glaring. Richie feels the glare and turns, his own smile fading as he catches on that Duncan is not pleased. Amanda goes up to Double Eagle, petting her nose and crooning.
Duncan, grabbing Richie's arm and whirling him: "Back in a minute!" He hustles Richie off, hissing, "Where's Kit?"
Richie: "He's up at the racing office, registering the horse. I don't know how you do it, Mac.
Duncan, snarling: "Do what?"
Richie: "If I just took a sixty-thousand dollar hit, I'd want to kill somebody."
Duncan, darkly: "Don't tempt me."
Richie, laughing: "You're joking. Right?" Duncan glares, and they walk on. "I mean, Mac, at this point, it is going to be very difficult to keep these two apart, especially now that they both own the horse together."
Duncan: "Thank you, master of the bloody obvious."
Richie: "I'm sorry, I'm just trying to help. So what are you going to do?"
Duncan: "I'm working on it."
From above, Kit sneezes, twice, and comes down the steps as they sense each other.
Kit: "Oh, that accounts for it. There's two of you." He spreads his arms. "So how's my favorite partner in the world?"
Duncan: "Great, just great. Doing great."
Kit: "You just made the deal of a lifetime. The deal of twelve lifetimes as in your case." To Richie. "Do you know what I just did? I just put the horse in the big race tomorrow. That means in one day, this man makes back his investment." Richie and Duncan chuckle feebly at this joyous news.
Richie: "There you go."
Kit looks at them. "See, most people I know are happy when events like this happen."
Duncan, quickly: "Oh, no. I'm happy. I'm happy."
Kit: "Oh, good, 'cause I am, too. And I'm feeling lucky. Are you?"
Duncan nods: "Definitely."
Kit starts off. "Well, let's go see her, come on. . ."
Duncan and Richie leap to stop him: "Oh, uh, who?"
Kit: "Her, uh, Double Eagle."
Duncan: "Oh, no, you can't do that."
Kit: "Why can't we go and see her?"
Richie: "Because, uh, we've got to, uh, celebrate! Yeah." They urge him back to the steps. Duncan: "Caviar."
Richie: "Champagne . . ."
Kit: "Okay, I'm in. And it's on me!"
Duncan: "No no no. On me."
Kit: "Okay, I tell you what. I'll flip you for it." He pulls out a coin, but Duncan grabs it from him.
Duncan: "Let me do it."
Duncan: "Just . . . because."
Kit: "Okay, I get your point."
Duncan flips, palming the coin in his hand:
Kit: "What's the choices?"
Duncan: "Heads or tails."
Kit: "Mm, Heads."
The coin is tails, but Duncan lets it flip as he opens his hand: "I lost."
Kit: "You lose."
Richie: "You win."
Kit: "I win. I win! Ooh, that sounds so good."
Duncan puts an arm around him, urging him inside: "It does."
Kit notices Richie is leaving: "Where are you going, Richie?"
Richie: "I'll see you guys later. I'm going to go do that . . . other . . . thing. With the--Bye." He splits.
Duncan as they walk off: "Champagne, caviar. It'll be great, huh?"
Back at the loft, Amanda is giving Duncan a back rub on the couch.
Duncan, sleepily: "Amanda, you know you don't have to do this."
Amanda: "Oh, no. I want to. It's the least I can do after the way I acted today." Duncan chuckles. "It's weird, though, isn't it?"
Duncan: "What is?"
Amanda: "The horse. The Double Eagle."
Amanda, rubbing harder: "It reminds me of that Kit O' Brady."
Duncan's head comes up: "Really, Amanda. You don't still remember him."
Amanda, bitterly: "You don't forget the Black Plague."
Duncan turns over: "After all these years?" He sits up, putting his arms around her. "How long can you say mad at someone?"
Amanda: "Oh, just until hell freezes over."
Three dancers are just finishing their routine on the the stage at the Queen of Spades. Amanda looks around in satisfaction at the crowded room, and addresses Duncan.
Amanda: "So, what do you think? Is it me?"
Duncan: "Well, you've definitely put your stamp on it, and they seem to love it."
Amanda: "So do I." She takes Duncan's arm. "For the first time, I've made something I can be proud of."
Duncan: "Amanda, you've won it in a card game."
Amanda: "Well, that is not the point. The point is, this is me. I'm truly happy here, you know."
Duncan, unenthusiastic: "And I'm happy for you."
Amanda: "Oh, really." She edges closer. "I think we'd be even happier in my hotel room. Hmm?" They leave.
Later, in Amanda's hotel room, Amanda is giggling in the bed, while Duncan squirms under the sheet. He finally emerges, a feather in his teeth.
Amanda, still laughing: "You should stop it."
Duncan snuggles in beside her: "Comfortable?"
Amanda: "Mmm, in heaven."
Duncan: "Feeling forgiving?"
Amanda sobers at once: "What are you talking about?"
Duncan, reluctant: "It's Kit. He hasn't been the same since the other night."
Amanda: "Well, I told him he could come to the Queen of Spades any time he wants."
Duncan: "He always loses."
Amanda: "Well, that's because that's what he is." Exasperated. "What do you want me to do, rig the tables?"
Duncan: "It's a thought . . ."
Amanda, pouting: "MacLeod."
Duncan, pleading. "Amanda, give him back his lucky piece. He feels lost without it." He starts stroking the feather over her breasts.
Amanda groans: "Oh, hell. I only kept it because he called me a cheat." She looks at Duncan. "All he has to do is ask."
Duncan: "He's too proud, and I'm asking." He makes a kissy-face at her.
Amanda, relenting: "All right. If he wants it so badly, I'll give it to him."
Duncan, crooning: "Oh, I always knew you were a kind and loving soul."
Amanda: "Then reward me."
He bends to kiss her. Outside, alarm bells begin ringing, and Winston knocks on the door.
Winston, through the door: "Miss Amanda! You have to ome quick!"
Amanda: "Aw, where's the fire, Winston?"
Winston: "It's the Queen of Spades, she's burning down!"
Amanda and Duncan are standing in the smoking ruins of the casino. The sign is still there, charred and singed so that the face looks like it's crying. Some of the waiters are carrying off the blackened remains of the gambling equipment, and firemen are still working to quench the last of the fires. Duncan goes to Amanda.
Duncan: "Amanda, I'm sorry. We've done all that we could. It's time to go." He leads her away.
Amanda: "Where to? This was my home. This was . . . You don't understand, this was me! This . . . I was like a Queen here."
Duncan, soothing: "In time you'll find somewhere else."
Amanda, weeping: "No, no, this was it, this was my dream, MacLeod, and that bastard O' Brady burned it down."
Duncan: "Amanda, you can't be certain of that."
Amanda: "Who else?" She hefts the coin from the sign in her hand. "The next time I see him, he is a dead man." She hurls the coin into the sewer, and it falls out of sight.
Amanda and Duncan are getting ready to go out. Duncan is tying his hair back.
Duncan: "It's been a long time, Amanda. Don't you think it's time to forgive and forget?"
Amanda: "MacLeod, I can't forget, and I will never, ever, forgive him. End of story. Now, are you sure you want to go out, because I have this great lasagne recipe I want to try."
Duncan: "Um . . ." He's saved from answering as they both sense another immortal, and the elevator starts up. "That must be Richie."
Richie, from the hall: "Somebody call me?" He hangs up his jacket.
Duncan and Amanda look at him, then back at the elevator as it stops and the gate slides up. Kit steps out, and stares at Amanda, who looks back in shock.
Amanda stalks toward Kit: "You snake. You total chiseler."
Duncan grabs her arm: "Come on, Amanda . . ."
Kit: "You thieving French whore."
Duncan, trying to keep them apart: "Kit . . ."
Amanda: "I told you I'm not French!"
Kit: "You stole every thing I loved."
Duncan, trying to get between them: "Can we talk about this?"
Amanda: "We are talking."
Kit: "Just butt out of this, MacLeod!" He remembers he has a bottle, and hands it to MacLeod, saying in a normal voice, "Here, I brought you this." He turns back to Amanda, angry again. "It's bad enough you cheated me out of the Double Eagle."
Amanda: "Queen of Spades! And I won it."
Kit: "But what kind of a person steals a man's lucky piece."
Amanda gives a short bark of laughter: "Ha! I didn't steal it, I threw it in the sewer!"
Kit: "You threw it away?"
Kit: "In a sewer?"
Amanda: "Yeah. Some rat's got it and he's probably winning!"
Richie laughs, and all three of the others turn to glare at him. He sobers and looks away, coughing.
Kit: "Well, that's it, MacLeod. You'd better get yourself a new woman, MacLeod, because this one's gone."
Amanda, sneering: "Oh, yeah."
Duncan, yelling over them: "Shut up, shut up . . ."
Amanda, ignoring him: "Yeah!"
Duncan: " . . . shut up!"
Kit: "Yeah! And you . . ."
Duncan: "QUIET!" He glares at them both. "Now. Can't we just discuss this like reasonable people?"
Kit and Amanda look sheepish for a second, then look at the each other.
Kit and Amanda: "No!"
Duncan: "Just checking."
Kit draws his sword from his cane, while Duncan turns to Amanda: "You asked for this."
Kit: "Come on!"
Duncan, to Amanda: "Will you be quiet and let me deal with this?"
Kit: "Come on."
Duncan turns and decks Kit, so that he falls back into Richie's waiting arms. Amanda smiles.
Amanda: "Thanks, MacLeod. Hold him while I get my sword." She dashes for the bed, while Richie hastily heaves Kit over Duncan's shoulders and helps him get to the elevator.
Duncan: "Stall her."
Amanda from across the room: "MacLeod!"
Richie: "By killing her?"
The elevator goes down, and Amanda dashes for the gate, yelling.
Amanda: "He's mine. MacLeod, he's mine!" Richie grabs her from behind, pulling her away, and her voice changes instantly, becoming piteous as she bleats, "Ow, ow ow!"
Richie, hauling her backwards: "This is for your own good."
Amanda, piteably: "Ow! Ow, you're hurting me!"
Richie lets her go: "What, what'd I do?"
Amanda regards him with respect, rubbing her arm: "Wow, you really have been working out."
Richie shrugs: "Oh, thanks."
Amanda: "You're welcome." She slugs him and runs for the stairs.
Downstairs, Duncan lets the gate up and urges Kit, who's rubbing his jaw, out to the floor.
Duncan: "I'm sorry, but what did you want me to do?"
Kit: "Nice try, MacLeod, but it's not going to work." Duncan makes an exasperated noise. "You can't keep us apart forever."
Duncan: "Yeah, but I've been trying."
Kit: "When I get to her, I'm going to take her head clean off."
Amanda bursts from the stair door, sword in hand: "Leave him. He's mine."
Duncan turns: "No, no, not here."
Kit, readying his own sword: "This is not holy ground, MacLeod."
Duncan, as they start circling each other, around him: "No, it's my home. What do you want me to do, watch you two kill each other?"
Kit, pointing to the office: "That's easy, then. Just go over there and don't look, then."
Duncan throws up his arms: "Okay, fine. Go ahead, kill each other." He walks off, tossing over his shoulder. "Seems like a bad time to do it now." Amanda and Kit raise their swords at each other. "Now that you're partners."
Amanda and Kit look at each other.
Kit: "What did he say?"
Duncan, deliberately casual: "Yeah, the horse. Double Eagle."
They break off, turning abruptly to face him.
Kit: "You're not serious."
Duncan, all innocence: "Well, I gave my half to Amanda."
They walk towards him, both of them appealing to him.
Kit, incredulous: "What?"
Amanda, pointing with her sword: "I'm partners with that?"
Kit: "I can't work with her!"
Duncan: "Well, what do you want me to do?" To Amanda. "It'd be a shame for you not to see her run." To Kit. "And for you not to see her win." Richie comes up behind them. He sighs. "But, go ahead." They square off again, and Duncan closes his eyes. They glare for a second, then both disengage.
Amanda: "Okay. Just this once, just for you."
Kit: "All right. The horse, Double Eagle, runs in the feature race at Conway Greens, tomorrow. Right? After that . . ."
Amanda: " . . . one of us is dead."
Kit: "And the survivor keeps the horse."
Kit waves his sword at her: "I want that stipulated."
They stalk off in opposite directions, Kit for the front door, Amanda for the elevator. Richie comes over to Duncan, gesturing apologetically to his jaw. Duncan makes a sour face.
Duncan: "At least that bought us a day."
At Conway Greens, the race is close to beginning. Kit comes down into the seats to join Amanda, who's already seated, looking out over the track with a pair of binoculars. Kit sits down next to her.
Kit: "I don't want you to feel too excited about anything that may happen this afternoon, because the feelings will be strictly temporary."
Amanda, leaning in: "Yeah, well you better enjoy her run, because the first thing I'm going to do when I take your head is change her name." Smugly. "Queen of Spades." She pointedly moves an extra seat away, sighing smugly.
Kit: "How original."
She sneers at him, then turns her attention back to the starting gate.
Kit: "Incidentally, we're the seven horse."
Amanda: "I know"
Announcer: " . . Double Eagle now a little fractious . . . waiting on the break . . . and they're off and running!"
The horses break away, and Kit and Amanda both get to their feet, and Kit starts murmuring words of approval and encouragement. They watch as the horses round the turn, Double Eagle second, still in winning position, and despite themselves they both start getting more and more excited, cheering her on. By the end of the race, they're both shouting "Go! Go, Double Eagle!," and when she goes under the wire, the winner, Amanda jumps up and down, screaming, "Yes! Yes!" She and Kit hug each other impulsively.
Kit, lifting her up: "Finally!"
They stop, and look at each other, and break apart, gathering their dignity again. Amanda collects herself, and trots off, leaving Kit sitting in the seat.
Amanda, pushing him aside: "Get out of my way."
Kit, as she leaves: "We're getting our pictures taken!" He points in the opposite direction. "Down there!"
At the loft, Duncan in on the phone, pacing back and forth through the kitchen.
Duncan: "I know how many of them there are, but I need it now. It has to be there somewhere." Voiceover, continuing as we cut to the empty bleachers, Amanda and Kit walking to confront each other. "As a matter of fact, it is a matter of life and death." Back to Duncan, in the loft. "Well, if you do find it, you can fax it to me, or send it carrier pigeon if you have to, but I have to have it here."
At the track, Amanda and Kit stop, facing each other.
Amanda: "I've waited too long for this."
Kit, his cane still over his shoulder: "Now, is that supposed to be my fault? I've been around."
Amanda: "Where? Out shedding your skin?"
Duncan, still on the phone: "No, I'll wait. I'll wait."
Kit takes his cane in his left hand: "You know, I've never actually enjoyed killing anyone." He draws out the blade. "This is going to be a first for me."
Amanda raises her own blade, smacking it against his: "Stop talking and start fighting."
At the loft, Duncan is pacing, waiting.
Kit: "Ladies first."
Amanda: "Don't tell me what to do. I was taking heads before you were in diapers."
Duncan: "You got it?!"
Kit opens his mouth, then it turns into a sneeze as they both sense another immortal. He looks up to see Duncan come out into the bleachers.
Kit: "MacLeod, where have you been? You missed an incredible race."
Amanda: "Yeah, but you're in time for a good Quickening."
Kit, recalling why they're there: "Oh, yeah. That's right."
Duncan jumps down, waving a paper: "You want to read this first."
Amanda: "What is it?"
Duncan hands the paper to Amanda: "Kit couldn't have done it."
Kit, as Amanda snatches the paper: "Done what?"
Duncan: "Read the lead story." The story is circled in red, the headline saying, "Steamship Sinks-All Hands Lost."
Amanda, reading the circled story aloud: "Missing and presumed dead." She raises her head. "Come on, MacLeod. You're making this up." Duncan throws up his hands.
Kit reaches for the paper: "Excuse me, could I just take a quick look?"
Duncan, patiently: "Kit couldn't have burned down the saloon, he was in the middle of the ocean at the time."
Kit: "Burnt down the saloon? Are you crazy? I'd burn down the Double Eagle?"
Amanda: "Queen of Spades. And what was I supposed to think, you're such a lousy loser."
Kit: "Excuse me?"
Duncan, warningly: "Amanda."
Amanda looks at him: "What?!"
Duncan, edging closer: "What do you mean, 'what?'"
Amanda looks at him, then turns away, muttering: "Maybe I was wrong."
Kit: "Did she just say something, MacLeod?"
Duncan: "Sorry, I didn't quite hear that."
Amanda glares: "I guess I owe you an apology."
Kit: "Oh. An apology, is it? Well I am very sorry to inform you that you owe me a hell of a lot more than an apology."
Kit, raising his sword: "Fine is right." They square off.
Duncan: "Kit, how much did the horse pay?"
Kit, smiling: "Twelve to one, my last five grand. Oh, it was brilliant . . "
Duncan: "Mmm, that's . . ."
Kit, suddenly realizing it: "I won! She won!" Amanda nods. "Double Eagle won!"
Duncan puts his arms around each of them, pulling them all together.
Amanda: "We won!"
At the loft, Amanda and Kit are nose to nose, arguing.
Kit: "There's nothing wrong with this trainer, the trainer's the best!"
Amanda: "Then maybe it's the jockey."
Duncan, from the couch: "Maybe it's the owners." They look at him. "Guys, this is not working."
Kit: "What do you suggest, we cut this horse in half?"
Duncan gets up: "Let's make it interesting."
Kit: "All right."
Duncan goes to the cabinet and takes out a deck of cards. He riffles them, grinning.
Duncan: "High card takes it." He slaps the deck down.
Kit turns to Amanda: "No problem. All right?" She shrugs in acquiensence. Kit turns to Duncan. "All right." Back to Amanda. "Ladies first."
Amanda: "Just do it."
Kit: "No ladies here, I guess." He walks to the deck, closes his eyes, taps the cards, and finally draws the top card. He flips it over to show the Jack of Diamonds. Amanda takes a deep breath, and picks her own card. She looks at it, then slaps in down in disgust.
Amanda: "She's yours."
Kit pumps his fist in the air: "Oh, oh, he's back! I don't believe it!" He hugs Duncan. "I knew it, I knew it! I'd come back here, I'd get it back! Oh this is . . ." He suddenly spots Amanda, and stops, facing her. "No hard feelings, right?"
Amanda holds out her hand, saying tightly: "I'm sure the both of you will be very happy together." She smiles thinly
Kit shakes her hand: "Oh, thank you, thank you. I'd stay and chat, MacLeod, but I'm on a roll!" He grabs his things and dashes off.
Duncan: "See you, Kit."
Kit: "See you, MacLeod. See you at the Kentucky Derby." He leaves.
Amanda sits down, shaking her head, but her voice when she speaks to Duncan is suddenly meek.
Amanda: "Look, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was doing, it was your money." Duncan picks up the card she put down. "Forgive me." Duncan holds up the Queen of Spades. He looks at it, then smiles and leans in to kiss her.
Duncan: "What do you think?"
This episode engendered one of those infrequent Editorial Dilemmas. As you no doubt noticed, Kit tends to babble aimlessly to himself all the time, whether he's saying anything important or not. It's a charming and endearing part of his character (at least I think so!), but it gives an odd impression when read separately from the action. Furthermore, typing up dialogue is by far the most time-consuming part of the whole process. I can get actions down usually with only two view-throughs, but dialogue can take four or five tries, or more, to get down. So, should I write down every single inane phrase, or should I edit? I went for the former, but I'd like to point out that a lot of Kit's dialogue isn't delivered in the usual declamatory fashion, i.e. him talking to someone while they listen. It's often mumbled under his breath or delivered to someone who's not really paying attention, or even over or under their lines, so just keep in that in mind. Also, he talks fast, so he can squeeze in two lines of babble while Duncan's saying, "Uh . . ." which made it a little confusing.
Next time, Kenny the Creepy Kid returns, in "Reunion."
These pages are written by Jinjifore and are translated into HTML and maintained by Ian.
Disclaimer: All the dialogue, characters, situations, and darn near everything else belong to a bunch of fine and talented folks at Rysher Entertainment and Panzer/Davis, and in particular the dialogue belongs to the credited writer of this episode. Me, I just wrote the rest down in my own words, which belong to me, but the episode itself was made by the aforementioned people and is owned by them. This humble synopsis isn't meant to infringe on their rights, and I'm sure as heck not making any money from doing these.
Everything not belonging to Rysher, et al, ©Copyright 1997 by Jinjifore
Feel free to copy and distribute as long as this copyright notice and disclaimer are included, except where local bandwidth laws apply.
Also, check out Ian's home page.
Celtic clip art courtesy of the Celtic Art Web Page.
|Last Rev: H8E [ 14 Aug 97 ]|