Just as the sun grazed the horizon in its morning wakening, Methos still lay in bed, lost deep in thought. He had been unable to sleep that night, and now a new day in his already five thousand year plus life had begun. Since the latest fiasco had been resolved, Methos hoped that he could finally experience the peace that he had come to Seacouver to find.
It had been several days since his successful battle with Garret, the immortal who had come from his past to haunt him. His world had been thrust centuries back to his days in Camelot. The story had been revealed to Joe, and God knew he had thought Methos was crazy, but the truth had been uncovered. And Kiernyn, he had almost lost her, again.
When he had first caught a glimpse of her, instantly he had known it was Guinevere reborn. The same delicate features, same soft, chestnut hair, and her soul could be found in the depths of her azure eyes. Garret had attempted to deprive him of her once again, but chivalry had prevailed.
"Chivalry," Methos rolled the word out just like the passing trend it had been. Once, he had practiced the concept, but demise had followed.
"Being a hero doesn't necessarily make you gallant," Joe had said the night after his victory. "Hell, you're a hero every time you win a battle in the game. You're saving the world from the monstrocities the others bring about."
Methos supposed Joe had been trying to appease his mind on the sore subject. But he didn't want to think about that anymore. Kiernyn was who he wanted to focus his attention upon.
She didn't know the full details of their relationship. Briefly, he had mentioned that she reminded him of someone but had never voiced who. And the night she had been abducted, the moment on the street had sealed it all. The connection between them could not be denied. Methos just hoped that she didn't start asking too many questions any time real soon. He couldn't even begin to imagine what she would think or do once she learned the truth. But she didn't have to...
The thought was interrupted by the sudden awareness of another immortal. "Damn," he muttered the word and started to reach for his sword. Before he had seized the sword, his hand halted. This was not just another immortal. The sensations were familiar.
"Methos?" came the burred voice he had anticipated. Duncan MacLeod stood on the other side of the door.
"Hold on a minute," Methos called and swung his legs over the side of the bed. One glance at the clock told him it was entirely too early for a visit. But he had done the same to MacLeod many times before, and he knew MacLeod had several issues eating at his insides.
After donning a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, he trudged to the door. At least it's not the middle of the night, Methos thought. And he's not pounding on the door. Unlatching and opening the door revealed a man seemingly unknown to him.
It was MacLeod, all right, but his face was unshaven and his entire appearance was haggard. His friend wore a white t-shirt and khaki pants underneath his long coat. And his hair..."What the hell happened to your hair?" Methos asked, incredulous.
A faint smile graced Duncan's lips. "I cut it off."
Methos stayed glued to the spot, his eyes wide with question. It had been a little over a year since he had last seen Duncan, and his friend had received a makeover, not appearing to be for the best. But killing your student, your friend, will do that to you. "I see," he finally managed and Duncan shifted his feet nervously.
"Why don't you come in?" At the invitation, Duncan followed Methos inside. He inspected his surroundings because it had been quite some time since he had visited his elder companion.
Not much had changed. The table was still against the wall next to the refridgerator, and the bed was still on the opposite side of the room. It appeared he had woken Methos.
"So what brings you back?" Methos questioned, not sure what was on Duncan's mind.
"Just got back into town, and I didn't..." Duncan trailed off, the look in his dark eyes getting farther and farther away.
Methos knew he didn't want to be alone. The dojo would bring back so many memories, and from the looks of the Scot, he wasn't ready to face them. "Yeah, so you wanna get breakfast or something?"
MacLeod swallowed. "Sure. You don't suppose Joe's up at this hour?"
Motioning toward the phone, Methos replied, "Never hurts to wake the old man up. Did it to me on several occasions here lately." He then proceeded to finish dressing. He didn't need sleep anyway.
Before Duncan picked up the phone, he said, "Nah, he'll know I'm back sooner or later."
A chuckle escaped Methos. "Found him out, eh?" Then he grew serious. "He's missed you."
Duncan could only nod his head. Long, dark lashes then fell as his eyes closed, as a memory fell upon him. It must have been a pleasant one. Methos noticed a smile upon his face.
"Where are you?" he dared to interfere.
The smile disappeared, and Duncan reopened his eyes. Such sadness hit the older immortal, and he wished he had not have asked. Duncan didn't answer. "I hear there's a new French bakery opened on Front."
"Leave France to eat French food in America? I think you've got your locations reversed!" Methos tried to lighten the mood so his friend would be easier to talk to.
He was rewarded with a smile. "So, how about it?"
"I'm willing to try if you are."
Ten minutes later, they were seated inside the bakery, Duncan nibbling at a pastry not much into eating, Methos noted. He himself had ordered a more substantial breakfast, amazed that the place would actually cook eggs and bacon.
"What's been going on with you?" Duncan inquired. "Any excursions lately?"
Methos gulped. How true, how true! he silently exclaimed. "Oh, you know, the usual. I'm here to work on the Chronicles."
That told Duncan everything. "Who is she?"
A scowl appeared. How was it that MacLeod seemed to read him like a book? "She?" he returned the question.
Duncan cleared his throat. "The Chronicles. A cover. There must be something keeping you here, or are you finally deciding to settle down?"
Methos wasn't sure he liked exactly where this conversation was heading. Just like MacLeod, butting into his business. "Settling down is the last thing on my mind."
An uncomfortable silence enused. Methos picked at his eggs as MacLeod waited for him to spill it. How could he tell him of her without getting in way over his head? One too many people already knew, although he knew he could trust Duncan with his secret.
"Nailed it on the head, did I?" Duncan's mood appeared to change suddenly. He was back to his old self, badgering Methos.
With lip in snarling position, Methos rolled his eyes. "Think you're so smart, eh? Okay, so I met this girl. What more is there to say?"
"Wha more?" the Scottish accent coming through. "I'd think there might be loads more to tell."
When Methos sighed, Duncan's eyes grew wide. What was he thinking? Methos wondered. The Scot soon acknowledged. "It's not another Alexa?" It was almost a whisper.
The bite of food Methos had just taken lodged in his throat. Duncan had to reach over and beat his back so he wouldn't choke. God, he hadn't thought of Alexa in a long while, and he didn't care to think about her now. So sorrowful those thoughts made him, and he didn't want to feel that way now that he might finally find happiness.
"No," he simply responded, burying the memories deep within his heart.
Duncan could see how it pained him to think of Alexa. He was sorry he had brought up the subject. "So are you going to tell me about her? Or do I have to drag it out of Joe?"
"I'm sure he'd have no qualms about that," Methos muttered. "She'll be there tonight."
"Joe's."
Methos nodded. "I've only known her for a couple of days. Nothing serious yet." But he knew he was lying not only to MacLeod, but to himself. Of course, it was serious. With hundreds of years as a background, how could it not be serious?
"Hmmm," Duncan mumbled. "I'm beginning to think there's more to this that what you lead on."
"Her name is Kiernyn, she works at a bank, her brother plays the Blues, did so for Joe once, and I..." What, saved her? Was that what he was about to say?
Duncan chuckled. "What it takes to get some info out of you! Sounds interesting! Can't wait to meet her!"
"Oh no you don't!" Methos warned. "Don't think you can dig into my personal life. Have I ever meddled with yours?"
Scratching his whiskered chin, Duncan replied, "I can think of a couple of times..."
Methos threw his hand up in the air. "I give up. There's nothing that gets by you without intense scrutiny."
"Sometimes it's wise to scrutinize things, to detect the secrets that hide behind the exterior."
The brow above one golden eye rose. "Secrets? Some are better left undiscovered."
"And might we be hiding some? Don't bother to answer that, because I know you won't. Okay, I'll rest my case, for the moment," Duncan added when an audible sigh escaped Methos.
With a sarcastic smile, Methos stood. "I'm sure you'll like her."
The immortal shrugged, trying to appear as if nothing were wrong. Joe knew him too well. "Oh, nothing better to do. Thought I'd come and keep you company."
"You know I always enjoy the company," Joe commented, "but is that the only reason you're here?"
With a low chuckle, Methos shook his head. "You and MacLeod are always on my case."
Joe unlocked the door and proceeded inside, Methos behind him. Flipping on the light, he turned back to his friend. "I figured this has something to do with Kiernyn. Forgive me for being concerned. Maybe I was worried for her."
The lecture caused Methos to stiffen. "You know that I wouldn't let anything happen to her."
Joe nodded. "Of course not, but what is it?"
Methos pushed past the Watcher and made his way into the barroom. He was in dire need of a drink. Instead of opting for his usual beer, he reached underneath the counter and removed a bottle of whiskey. It had been a while since he'd had any. By the time Joe had caught up with him, he'd already downed two shots.
"Take it easy," Joe warned. "Kiernyn will be here later."
"I know that!" Methos snapped and took another shot. Suddenly, he realized what he was doing and pushed the bottle away. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
Joe barely heard his apology. "Why'd you come here? There's no doubt something's bothering you, and if you didn't want help or just someone to talk to about it, then you wouldn't have come."
Eyes closed, he took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Now his throat burned from the whiskey, and he had to choke that back as well. "Mac's back in town."
The Watcher just stared at him for a moment, soaking in the new found information. "Back? That son of a..."
Methos looked up to him, surprised by his reaction. "Now Joe, he's been through a lot. And he sure looks like hell. Did you know he cut all his hair off?"
Slowly, Joe nodded. "Yeah. Saw him when I buried Richie." It was his turn to choke back the hurt. "He's done a real good job of dodging me all this time," he added silently to himself.
Methos heard him mumble something but didn't catch it. Joe had been Duncan's watcher for so long, and then they had become friends. Although Duncan was much, much older that Joe, the Watcher had always thought of him as a son. Methos knew this, and he also knew that it had been quite some time since they had seen each other. Almost as long as it had been since he had seen the immortal.
"I think he's coming by tonight," Methos informed the obvioulsy perturbed man. "He showed up at my door this morning. He was going to call you, but decided not to wake you since it was so early. Mac's thought about you. He's just needed time to sort things through. You know how terrible this whole mess has been."
"Yeah, I know," Joe agreed and began to tidy up the bottles behind the bar. Then he decided to change the subject. "Kevin's going to be playing tonight."
Methos smiled. "Great, now I'll never get Kiernyn out of here tonight."
Joe laughed himself. Memories of the latest ordeal flooded back to him. Once again, he became the concerned father. "Any more dreams?"
Methos played with the empty shot glass in front of him. "No, haven't slept so there couldn't have been."
They were back to why Methos was actually there. "Wanna tell me why you haven't slept?" Then Joe realized how that had sounded and smiled.
"Not particularly. Although, it's not what you're thinking."
"Being the perfect gentleman, are you?" Joe stifled a giggle. "Funny, I never thought of you as a gentleman." Then instantly, all humor was void from his expression.
Methos picked up on the sudden change. Alexa. For the second time today, her memory had been drug up from the recesses of his heart. Yes, there had been a time when he was the perfect gentleman, and he knew Joe was thinking of that time now.
"I can be one when I want to," was all he said. How had this day begun with so much misery? he asked himself. This was suppose to be the beginning of a promising relationship, but nothing promising had occurred just yet.
The silence in the bar began to ring in Methos' ears. He had nothing to say, couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't tempt Joe to question him further. This questioning, first from Joe, then Mac, and now Joe again was rubbing him raw. How he hated to be under such scrutiny. But he knew the time would soon come when he would be flooded with questions he wasn't ready and may never be prepared to answer. If only there was some way to avoid that conversation...
For the second time that day, the sensation hit him. Another immortal was in their midst, but further concentration revealed it was Duncan. Ever since their double quickening after the fall of the Horsemen, a link existed between the two in that their presence, whenever sensed, was recognizable. Methos was glad for that at that moment. No need to be alarmed.
But Joe had seen Methos' eyes enlarge and his head snap to the door. He knew another immortal was near, but he also knew that as soon as Methos relaxed, that it was Mac. Reaching into his pocket, he removed his keys and tossed them to Methos. "Mind unlocking the doors for me?"
Funny, Methos noted, that he knew exactly which key unlocked the front door. He had picked it out of the group on the ring instantly. Seems he and Joe had been friends longer than he had thought.
Once the door was unlocked, Duncan pushed it opened from the outside. With a conspiratorial grin, he said, "Fancy meeting you here."
Methos raised a shoulder briefly. "Aren't I always here?"
"Guess I should have known that, considering all the free beer you get!" Mac joked and slapped Methos on the back.
Methos eyed him warily. "What's got into you?"
The smile never faded from Duncan's face. "Is she here?"
"Hmph," Methos groaned. "Came here to investigate did you? Sorry to disappoint you, but she's not. But I think someone else here has been waiting for you."
Duncan looked to the bar to see Joe, overacting as he tidied the bar. Tension was easily sensed coming from the mortal. He sighed and gave Methos a look that begged for privacy.
The older immortal took the hind and headed for the stage, hoping that would be far enough out of earshot. Besides, he had noticed the new piano sitting in the corner, and was now itching to tinker with it.
Mac sat down on the stool Methos had vacated and drummed his fingers on the bar. "So, Dawson, how are you?"
Joe turned to face his friend. "That's a hell of a thing to say to me after a year."
Nodding, Duncan agreed. "You knew I was fine."
"No I didn't," Joe protested. "Sure, you were fine as far as being alive, but what's going on inside, Mac? You're not over it, I know. And hiding from me has done nothing to make it better."
Duncan understood the concern, but it was one thing to say and another to do. "This is something I have to come to terms with on my own. He was a friend to us all, but it was my doing, and I must find it in my heart to forgive my own self. I just need time."
"I understand that," Joe commented. "You could have at least dropped by, sent a letter, or something to let me know you were still known to the world."
Again, Mac nodded. "I know, and I'm sorry. It will never happen again," he added, hoping to pry a smile from the old man.
Instead, Joe smirked. "Sure."
A series of melodious notes belted from the piano on stage, and both men turned to catch Methos bobbing his head to a beat only he seemed to hear. They errupted into laughter, and Methos abruptly stopped. "What's so funny?"
"I didn't know you could play the piano," Joe stated.
"I didn't know either," was Methos' response. He tapped out a few more notes and rose from the bench. "Enough of that. When's this band suppose to start?"
Duncan remembered Methos' earlier comment about Kiernyn's brother having a band. "Which band?"
"There's a guy in town, named Kevin Guinn. He's young and very talented. Played here a couple of times, but I think he's going to start a regular gig down in LA," Joe replied. He started to make a comment about Methos' connection with Kevin's sister, but thought better of it. The immortal would reveal that in time, if he wanted to.
That he didn't mention Kiernyn surprised Methos. The old man wasn't going to push the limits this time, and he was glad. Better for MacLeod to know no more than was necessary, and that he had already told him.
"Sounds interesting," Mac offered.
"They'll start around eight," Joe finally answered the question.
Methos nodded. "Okay, listen guys. I'm going to go out for a while. Be back before then."
Joe and Duncan said their goodbyes and Methos exited out the front door. Those two had some catching up to do, and a plan had suddenly formed in his mind that he intended to fully carry out.
