ANNE - Thanks for switching shifts with me, Paul...
 

 
RICHIE - MacLeod around?

ANNE - Upstairs. He hasn't been sleeping well.
 

 
RICHIE - [moves Anne out of earshot] I know he don't look so good. The kid's been playing guitar for quarters by the Third Street bridge. [off Anne's look] Don't worry, I'm gonna get him breakfast, get him cleaned up.

ANNE - He might need more than breakfast.

RICHIE - [beat] I've been there, Anne. The kid just needs a break. [a big smile] You should hear him. He's gonna make us both a million bucks.

ANNE - [turns to Cory] You got yourself a hell of an agent.
 

 
GARRICK - But at least you haven't run away.
 

 
MacLEOD - And a good deal of washing.
 

 
GARRICK - [wild] There's your monster! Immortality! Everyone dies and we go on living!
 

[ANGLE - Three pyres with waiting stakes in the center, attended by a blackhooded executioner with a blazing pitch torch. Near him stands the Church Official.]
 

[As a dress moves past, attached to an elegant female art patron -- and wipes camera to find MacLeod and Garrick talking, Anne in the B.G. on her cell-phone.]

GARRICK - [re the cell phone] I remember when it used to take a week to send a message a hundred miles.

MacLEOD - It's called progress.

GARRICK - At least we're not burning witches anymore.

MacLEOD - I'm happy for you, Garrick. It seems you finally beat your demons.

GARRICK - It took a while.
 

 
COP - But keep an eye on him...
 

 
ANNE - It'll wait.
 

[MacLeod leans on his car, looking less than thrilled as Anne is determined to get to the bottom of the incident.]

MacLEOD - So now I'm your patient.

ANNE - It's the best I could do on short notice. [beat] It's not every day I lie to the police... [pointed] Besides, normal people do not go swinging swords around in the street.

MacLEOD - There aren't any little men following me, if that's what you mean.

ANNE - Then what the hell are you doing with a sword?

MacLEOD - [with a smile] It's a dangerous world out there.

ANNE - Duncan, this isn't funny. First your nightmare, now this...

MacLEOD - It's nothing I can't take care of myself.

ANNE - Whoa! Excuse me, Dr. MacLeod... Did I miss the shingle on your wall?

MacLEOD - Anne, I don't need a doctor.

ANNE - How do you know? [off his silence] Duncan, you were hallucinating back there, it could be anything. Epilepsy... [beat] Even a tumor.

MacLEOD - Or maybe a bad pastrami sandwich.

ANNE - [soberly] I doubt it. [beat] At least let me run a couple of tests.

MacLEOD - [beat] Not yet.

ANNE - [tries another tack] Okay, no tests. [beat] A good friend of mine is a shrink.

MacLEOD - [light] You think I'm delusional, or just borderline paranoid?

ANNE - [exasperated] I think you're stubborn as hell.

[She's getting upset. He takes her hand.]

MacLEOD - I know you care, but I need a chance to work this out on my own.

ANNE - When I told those cops you were fine, I meant you were sane... [beat] That doesn't mean everything's all right. [She holds his gaze a moment.]
 

[CLOSE - A book and on the page a woodcut of a mad person wearing a grotesque head restraint. MacLeod's hand flips a page: another mad person, another horrifying restraint.]

GARRICK - That's how the insane were kept until the last century. Dogs lived better.

[Wider as MacLeod, standing at a table, leafs the pages. Garrick, a hammer and chisel in his hand, is covered in stone dust from the sculpture he is working on. Other works clutter the studio, some with sheets draping them.]

GARRICK - [quietly] I keep it to remember what I went through.

MacLEOD - I'm sorry.

GARRICK - It's all right...
 

[Richie and Dawson walk along, Dawson with a "why me" look on his face while Richie makes an earnest pitch for Cory.]

RICHIE - The kid's the real thing, Joe. And it's not the money with him. He just wants to play. [beat] One set's all I'm asking.

DAWSON - [sighs] I'll think about it.
 

 
DAWSON - Have you noticed... anything?

[Richie automatically defends MacLeod.]

RICHIE - Like what? I don't follow.

DAWSON - Anything out of the ordinary. Strange behavior.

RICHIE - What do you mean, strange?

DAWSON - Anything you'd worry about.
 

 
[ANGLE - The standup bar, where a nervous, energized Richie leans, watching Cory like a mother hen while a mildly bemused Dawson looks on.]

RICHIE - [distracted] What?

DAWSON - [indicating] The suits. The guys keeping Armani and Gucci off welfare.
 

 
RICHIE - [taken aback] But he's good. You thought so, too...

DAWSON - Why do you think he's got my stage? [pointed] Even if he's got the chops, Richie, he's got to get lucky, too.

RICHIE - I believe in this guy. As long as they see what he can do, we'll get the deal.
 

[A computer printer spits out two pages as a nurse, Marcia, sits at a computer, calling up files while Anne sits on the desk.]

MARCIA - Nothing... absolutely nothing.

ANNE - There's got to be something... check the Veterans Administration records.

MARCIA - I did... zero.
 

 
MacLEOD - [beat] Please.

ANNE - Duncan...

[MacLeod stands up, his face full of turmoil.]

MacLEOD - I'll see you later.

[He turns and leaves. Anne's face reflects her conflict of frustration and anger fighting love, and winning this round.]
 

[A candelabra throws strange shadows on the sculpture Garrick is working on. Garrick turns away from it to face MacLeod, deep concern on his face.]

GARRICK - You saw it again?

MacLEOD - As real as ever.

GARRICK - [moves away from the stone, sober] I owe you, Duncan. I know what you're going through, so I won't lie to you... [beat] It's going to get worse.

MacLEOD - But you're here... you survived it.

GARRICK - [pointed] After going through hell.

MacLEOD - I'm there already.
 

 
GARRICK - [panicked] For God's sake, have mercy!

OFFICIAL - You will know God's mercy. [beat] When the fire scorches your flesh.
 

 
GARRICK - We're inside your head.
 

[MacLeod arrives to meet Anne. She sighs at his haggard face, the three-day stubble... the relationship is strained, but Anne doesn't know why, and MacLeod can't tell her. A waitress gives them menus, glancing at MacLeod before she leaves.]

ANNE - I didn't hear from you... Is it me you're avoiding or just this place?

MacLEOD - It's not that. I'm glad you called.
 

 
ANNE - Really? You don't look it. Nothing personal, but even strangers are noticing.

MacLEOD - Maybe it's my sparkling personality.
 

 
ANNE - I want to help, Duncan, but I can't unless you let me.