Categories > TV > Highlander: The Series
Have Gun Will Travel
0 reviewsJoe Dawson stands by the River Seine and looks back on a few of his recent actions.
1Ambiance
Discliamer: Highlander: the Series belongs to Panzer/Davis, as do the characters of Joe Dawson, and any others mentioned here; tthey are not mine. References events in the 2nd seaason episode
"The Hunters".
"Have Gun, Will Travel" by Karen
The wind has kicked up both speed and direction, tugging at the ragged edges of his coat. Joe Dawson watches the ripples of the water as the spent gun falls into the River Seine with a loud and resounding splash. He wants to turn away from what just transpired between himself and his brother-in-law, James Horton, but much like that odd feeling one gets when driving down a road, and coming across a multiple car crash, but he can't turn away. It's called rubber-necking, and Joe stands on the west bank of the river, his joints aching, his hands wrapped around his cane with the knuckles turning white, and his eyes narrowed in concentration.
The wind picks up and the night grows later while he stands there, wondering, after all his experience with the Watchers, if his brother's body will come bobbing back up to the surface. It does not and Joe reaches up and tugs the front of his coat snugger around his body. The gun and the dead body are the least of his worries.
If and when news of his actions gets back to the Watcher's Council, fine and dandy, he's ready to take whatever punishment that they might hand out, still the fact thatthe Hunters exist at all, when they have done so much worse, is a sticking point in his thoughts.
The fact that he pulled the trigger is a moot point right now. It certainly had not been premeditated. Horton had to be stopped, and it was about more than just saving lives, or even one particular life, after what happened at that old church where Darius had made his sanctuary.
Joe had not been present when the Scottish Immortal Duncan MacLeod came to the church to ask a favor of his old friend Darius, and came upon a scene of destruction.
He only heard about after the fact, Duncan, needless to say, was distraught, enraged, and looking for some payback. "Not that I really blame him, but it we've got a hell of mess on our hands now. Somebody had to do something. Okay, but in hindsight most likely this is going to come back and bite me.'
As bad as that is, Dawson certainly never expected certain factions within the secret organization of the Watchers would go so far off the deep end as to actually commit murder, even murder of Immortals. "Hope you find what you're looking for, bro. For whatever that's worth in the long run."
Sure, technically his acting on behalf of his assigned Immortal went against the rules of the Watchers, but time and again, Dawson has come to the realization that sometimes one has to cross that invisible line, one had to do more than just watch.
So why doesn't it feel like he did the right thing. Horton is still dead, the Hunters might still be around in ragtag undisciplined groups.
Duncan MacLeod isn't exactly happy with the entire messed up situation.
"Coulda knocked me over with a feather," Dawson mutters under his
breath. "Especially, when some out of nowhere Watcher researcher turns out to be the legendary 5,000 year old Immortal, Methos."
Dawson glanced up at the lowering night sky, and stood watching as hundreds of man-made lights came on throughout the city of Paris, both banks of the River Seine shimmering in the reflected glow.
"Life goes on, even without us. Ain't life grand," Joe grumbles irritably. He turns around and heads back to his bar, wondering, his cane making a steady thump thump counterpoint to the swishing of his long brown coat.
"Just when I think it can't get any crazier, I get handed a curveball. What's thatold saying? Oh yeah, now I remember, 'you just gotta learn how to hit them.'"
"The Hunters".
"Have Gun, Will Travel" by Karen
The wind has kicked up both speed and direction, tugging at the ragged edges of his coat. Joe Dawson watches the ripples of the water as the spent gun falls into the River Seine with a loud and resounding splash. He wants to turn away from what just transpired between himself and his brother-in-law, James Horton, but much like that odd feeling one gets when driving down a road, and coming across a multiple car crash, but he can't turn away. It's called rubber-necking, and Joe stands on the west bank of the river, his joints aching, his hands wrapped around his cane with the knuckles turning white, and his eyes narrowed in concentration.
The wind picks up and the night grows later while he stands there, wondering, after all his experience with the Watchers, if his brother's body will come bobbing back up to the surface. It does not and Joe reaches up and tugs the front of his coat snugger around his body. The gun and the dead body are the least of his worries.
If and when news of his actions gets back to the Watcher's Council, fine and dandy, he's ready to take whatever punishment that they might hand out, still the fact thatthe Hunters exist at all, when they have done so much worse, is a sticking point in his thoughts.
The fact that he pulled the trigger is a moot point right now. It certainly had not been premeditated. Horton had to be stopped, and it was about more than just saving lives, or even one particular life, after what happened at that old church where Darius had made his sanctuary.
Joe had not been present when the Scottish Immortal Duncan MacLeod came to the church to ask a favor of his old friend Darius, and came upon a scene of destruction.
He only heard about after the fact, Duncan, needless to say, was distraught, enraged, and looking for some payback. "Not that I really blame him, but it we've got a hell of mess on our hands now. Somebody had to do something. Okay, but in hindsight most likely this is going to come back and bite me.'
As bad as that is, Dawson certainly never expected certain factions within the secret organization of the Watchers would go so far off the deep end as to actually commit murder, even murder of Immortals. "Hope you find what you're looking for, bro. For whatever that's worth in the long run."
Sure, technically his acting on behalf of his assigned Immortal went against the rules of the Watchers, but time and again, Dawson has come to the realization that sometimes one has to cross that invisible line, one had to do more than just watch.
So why doesn't it feel like he did the right thing. Horton is still dead, the Hunters might still be around in ragtag undisciplined groups.
Duncan MacLeod isn't exactly happy with the entire messed up situation.
"Coulda knocked me over with a feather," Dawson mutters under his
breath. "Especially, when some out of nowhere Watcher researcher turns out to be the legendary 5,000 year old Immortal, Methos."
Dawson glanced up at the lowering night sky, and stood watching as hundreds of man-made lights came on throughout the city of Paris, both banks of the River Seine shimmering in the reflected glow.
"Life goes on, even without us. Ain't life grand," Joe grumbles irritably. He turns around and heads back to his bar, wondering, his cane making a steady thump thump counterpoint to the swishing of his long brown coat.
"Just when I think it can't get any crazier, I get handed a curveball. What's thatold saying? Oh yeah, now I remember, 'you just gotta learn how to hit them.'"
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