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This is the end of the trilogy started with "The Promise" and continued with "The Search". I make no money from these efforts and these characters belong to Panzer/Davis. Unfortunately, they are not mine. They have just been borrowed so they can come play in my sandbox. I will return them unharmed after the story ends. This will make a lot more sense if you have read the other two parts.
This story is rated NC-17 for m/m sex. If this offends you, please push the delete button. I warned you and please heed the warnings. I want to thank Cassie, Kim and Dorian for their time and efforts in beta reading this story for me. Their devotion to the story has made it a better one.
Writers live for feedback and I'm no
different. Please send comments to firstname.lastname@example.org.
As Duncan and Amanda walked along the pristine white beach, the deep blue ocean smashed its white capped waves against the sandy pebbles, the sun set in the western sky painted with oranges, blues and purples and the beach vendors were setting up their night time wares. Their hands clasped together as they watched the evening unfold before their eyes as they had on too numerous evenings to count. The ocean splashed Duncan's bare feet, lapping its wetness against his sun kissed skin.
Looking at Amanda, her long legs receiving the same treatment from the water, he turned toward her, taking her chin in his hand and gently kissed her lips. " I love you. Do you know that?"
"Yes. I love you too."
"How did you know I needed this break from life?"
"I'm smart and I've known you for a long time." She smiled as she kissed his soft pliant lips. "Are you enjoying yourself? I mean...is our walkabout helping?" she asked sincerely.
"I don't know if it is giving me a purpose, if that is what you mean, but I'm sure enjoying the company." Motioning for her to join him, he pulled her over to the edge of the water and sat down on the sand. "Let's build a castle."
They built their castle in the sand. MacLeod made tiers and windows in the wet material, while Amanda took a piece of driftwood and attempted to make cross hatches in the walls without destroying the structure. They worked on their castle for some time and then realized that the only light in the sky was the moon.
"MacLeod, I think its time we went inside. I can think of more ways to play if you still want to get in touch with your adolescence." She stroked her hand down his side and gave him a sultry kiss.
"Well, if you put it in that light, I guess I'm finished here."
The two lovers made a mad dash for their hotel room, laughing and giggling along the way. When they closed the door to their room, MacLeod began undressing Amanda and directing her toward the bed.
"This is wonderful, but I think I'd rather not get sand in strategic places. Let's shower first." Amanda replied coyly as she led him toward the bathroom.
"Well if you insist, my love." Mac laughed as he turned on the water in the shower.
He grabbed the soap and lathered his hands, then began soaping her breasts, stomach and thighs. She leaned into his caress making little mewing noises as she enjoyed the sensitive touch and exquisite caress. He turned her around to soap her back and kissed the skin behind her ear, lapping at the sensitive area. Pouring shampoo into his palm, he gently massaged her head as he cleaned the sand and salt water from her short brown locks, rinsing the suds when he finished.
"I don't ever tire of your touch Mac. You know how to treat a woman." Amanda purred as she reached for the soap to clean him.
"I've had many years to perfect that skill and you my dear are not just a woman, you're very special to me and I want you to be happy." He smiled as he lifted his arms so she could soap his sides.
"You make me very happy, MacLeod." Amanda kissed him on the lips as she soaped his chest. Reaching for his erect cock, she laughed " I see that I make you very happy if this is any indication."
He stepped back in the shower, water cascading over his muscled chest and forearms, to allow her easier access to his sex. Supporting himself on the tiles at the back of the shower, he caressed her face and hands to encourage her gentle stroking.
"Nice, maybe I should tell you more often how happy you make me."
Amanda used the friction from the combination of water and soap to quickly bring Mac to orgasm, his release shooting over her belly.
Catching his breath, MacLeod looked at Amanda with his chocolate brown eyes, " That was nice, but you seem to have missed out, my dear. My turn."
He grabbed the soap again and rewashed his lover, taking extra time with breasts and thighs. Reaching between them, he gently pushed to separate them, stroking her with firm but languid fingers. Placing the soap in its receptacle, he massaged her body, paying special attention to the rose colored tips on her breast, watching in fascination as they changed from rounded forms to little peaks of hardened flesh. Taking one breast in his mouth, he sucked her nipple while he continued to caress her thigh with his other hand, then gave the other breast the same loving treatment. He moved from her breast, kissing her sweet tender flesh as he followed an invisible line down her belly and into the small mound of soft curls that hid her sex. Bending down, he licked the soft curls and then spreading her legs, he began tasting her own sweet elixir. He placed two fingers into the moist cavern, pressing into the reaches of her smooth flesh, massaging the sensitive tissue there and licking the outside of her now swollen vaginal lips. Amanda moaned with pleasure and her body pushed into his touch, bringing it to climax swiftly. He felt her pulsing body around his fingers and on his tongue as he continued to kiss the tender area.
"Woah. I think we are good together," Amanda told him as she recovered. "However, I think I'm turning into a prune and the water is turning cold. Let's get out."
Duncan turned off the water and they stepped out of the shower, grabbing towels to dry off. They stepped into their hotel room which had one king sized bed with a gold and red pattern on the spread. A mahogany dresser stood against the wall at the foot of the bed and housed the television. Next to the dresser, a short desk with four drawers was covered with Amanda's clothing and makeup and the latest Marie Claire issue. A round table with two blue chairs stood the window. Duncan donned his beige slacks and crème colored pullover and watched Amanda from across the room buttoning her blouse. Walking toward her, he stopped when he stood in front of her and bent down on one knee.
"Will you marry me?"
Laughing, she replied, "No."
"No?" he looked at her stunned and the hurt in his eyes was clear. "Why not?"
"Because we aren't good for each other." She pulled at his body to get him off his knees and walked to the bed, patting it for him to sit.
"MacLeod. I love you. No doubt about that, but not like that. How long do you think we could last if we were together forever, knowing that one of us couldn't leave?"
Sighing, he looked at her as she watched him with carefully pursed lips and determined eyes. "You're serious aren't you? You don't want me." He asked as he fidgeted with his hands.
Leaning toward him, she kissed him softly. (Damn him. This wasn't supposed to happen. He's not in love with me, just lonely.) "Mac, you've known me for almost 500 years, what makes you think you want to marry me?"
Mac stared at her, looking through her and around her, but avoiding those knowing eyes. He picked at invisible lint on the bed spread as he pushed down the hundreds of thoughts rushing through his head. " I...I... Never mind. It was a bad idea. Let's go eat, I'm hungry."
He started to stand up to retrieve his shoes, but Amanda pushed him back to the bed.
"We're not finished, big guy. You asked for a reason. Now talk." She stood up and walked toward the dresser, sitting down in the little chair to rifle through the contents on its top, trying to locate a pair of earrings. Seeing Mac in the reflection of the mirror, she shook her head, encouraging him to talk.
He looked at the woman whom he had known for almost half a century, her familiar form still enticing after many liaisons, her sense of adventure a treat to his sometimes staid lifestyle, her wisdom about survival equaled by his own, her knowledge of him almost frightening in its thoroughness and tried to put his thoughts into words.
"We're good together."
Amanda picked up a pair of blue earrings, brought them to her ears and shook her head.
"So is peanut butter and jelly."
"Amanda." He replied as he raised his eyes to the ceiling. "I love you. Okay. Isn't that enough?"
"No? Why not?" He got off the bed and walked to the table, pulling back the curtains to look at the night sky.
"Because...We're not the marrying kind." She said quickly, glad to get the sentence out of her mouth, even though she really didn't believe it.
Looking down at the beach, Mac saw several couples walking hand in hand in the moonlight, the dreamy look of love in their postures unmistakable and he felt a sadness drape his spirit. "A gypsy once said that, you know...that I would love many women, but never marry. I asked Tessa to marry me and then she was ...killed." His eyes filled with tears, but he wouldn't allow himself the luxury of crying.
Walking over to the curtain, Amanda put her arms around him, hugging him, hoping to alleviate his sorrow.
"I love you Mac. You are the best friend I'll ever have. You make me laugh. We have fun together, and I know that you will always be there if I ever need you. I just don't think it would work for us to be married. We are meant to be there for each other, not every day, but..." She moved her hands from around his shoulders and gently caressed his back and she softly kissed his cheek. Her stomach growled and she laughed. "I guess food wouldn't be a bad idea. You okay?"
"Yeah.... It's just..."
"Just what, love?"
" I feel so comfortable with you. I like being with you. We have fun together. I just thought that must be what marriage is like so why not make it formal?" He grinned as he began returning the soft caress across her back.
Pulling away from him, she looked into his eyes, shaking her head in wonderment. "Marriage is more than good times, MacLeod. It takes a lot of work and commitment. Take the good and the bad. Sickness and in health - although that doesn't really apply to us- For richer for poorer. You get the idea. It's not all fun and games."
"I know. I like the idea of permanence. Waking up to the same person day after day. Knowing that someone cares about my well being. Amanda you know me so well and I don't have to hide who I really am when I'm with you. I just thought it would be great to make it permanent."
"I think you are just lonely, MacLeod and I'm here right now. It's convenient. If you really searched your heart, you would know that is not really what you want."
Kissing her hair and giving her one last hug, he smiled. " When did you get to be so smart? I love you. Now let's eat; I seem to remember hearing someone's stomach making loud protests at its abuse." The two of them left the hotel room and went down to the restaurant to order dinner.
It was late and neither of them wanted to eat a big meal so Amanda ordered a salad and Mac ordered a roast beef sandwich. The restaurant was well lit, obviously not meant to be a romantic prelude. Amanda was glad they chose to stay and eat here, hoping that MacLeod's romantic notions would be quickly forgotten. The table was set with a white tablecloth and the silverware was wrapped with a cloth napkin. Soft jazz music played over the stereo system and the marker board at the head waitress station advertised a Blue's Band appearing later that week. A middle aged man with gray hair and a sultry smile stood behind the bar taking the drink orders. Looking at him, Amanda was reminded of Joe and smiled.
Seeing her sudden smile, MacLeod asked," What's got you smiling? What are you up to now?"
"Macleod, I'm hurt." She pretended to pout. "Can't a girl smile without a reason?"
"Yes, but you usually have a reason."
"Oh all right. I was just looking at the bartender and I thought about Joe. I guess the guy's gray hair got my memories working. Bar, plays Blue's music, bartender- grey hair, sultry smile, -Joe. "
Duncan looked over at the bartender and studied him for a few moments. "He doesn't look anything like Joe. Is your memory that bad?"
"I didn't say he looked like Joe. I said... That seeing a Blues bar with a bar tender who has gray hair and a sultry smile reminded me of Joe. I miss the old guy."
Duncan looked down at the table and played with his silverware and glass of water for a moment, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. "Yeah. Me too."
"Do you have anything of his, Duncan? I mean you guys were so close. I just wondered." She asked softly and reached out for his hand, giving it a little squeeze.
"He left me his journals and..."
"What? What did he leave you? Is it something I could see? I'd love to see what he felt was important to him."
He fidgeted in his seat, not realizing how much this conversation was disturbing him. Looking at Amanda, he searched her eyes to see how genuine her interest was and tried to decide if he should share the letter he'd found in Joe's journals. (She's one of your best friends, MacLeod- She will understand.)
"Did I tell you I went back there about a year ago?"
"No, but I would have thought you'd been back many times. You hadn't been back...in ...all that time?" Her eyes wrinkled and her lips frowned.
"No, I hadn't been back. It hurt too much. He left me his house which I'd been renting and then about a year ago, I got a notice that the city was taking over the property so I better take anything of value in it. I went over there and found his personal journals of my life, some boxes of personal stuff, and some watcher stuff." Duncan drank some water and swallowed hard. Even now it was hard to relive that weekend.
"So? What did he leave you?"
"A letter." He replied softly.
"A letter?" She asked incredulously.
"A letter." He repeated very solemnly; she should understand that this was important.
"What's so important about a letter? You're really talking in riddles Mac."
"He wrote me a letter. I found it in his journal. I think he meant for me to find it in less than 50 years, but sometimes I'm slow." He laughed, trying to keep the tears from leaking out of his eyes.
"Can I see the letter?"
"Why do you want to see it? It really is just a piece of paper with his thoughts on it." His voice a little steely at her request.
"Geez, Macleod. I didn't ask for a million dollars or for you to bail me out or commit a major crime. I just asked to read a letter written over 50 years ago, by a man whom we both loved. Is that a crime? I'm sorry if I offended you." She replied, trying to still the anger and hurt in her voice.
Mac winced at her acerbic tone and realized he was being unreasonable. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just having a bad day." He reached into his pocket and took out his wallet, removing the well-read paper from it and handed it to her. "Here, read it yourself. It doesn't really say much."
She gently took the well-worn paper from his hands to read it.
If you are reading this, I must be dead. Hope I went fast and didn't go violently. I've seen enough violence to last me a lifetime. (Wait I'm dead, so I guess it did last me.) I wanted to take this opportunity to share my last bits of wisdom with you.
You were such a wonderful friend, you honored me with your presence in my life. Once we got over our confusion (the Watcher stuff), you were always there for me. I could ask you anything and you always delivered. I know sometimes you felt like you abused your friendship with me, but my friend, I never did anything I didn't want to. When I leave this world, I hope you will remember me with fondness and not sadness. My life was a happy one and I fulfilled many of my dreams. I was reunited with Amy and became the best damn grandfather in the world. I traveled and never wanted for anything. I had a bar where I got to play my music and was surrounded by blues fans.
Seek out your new Watcher, don't make their life difficult. The Watchers have relaxed some of their rules and while they don't encourage fraternization out right, they don't shoot those who do want to get to know their Immortal. Who knows, maybe you can keep track of the elusive old man with their help.
Duncan, I know my death will be a sad time for you. I realize I'm the last of your "clan" from this lifetime to die. Don't forget Methos' maxim: Live, Grow Stronger, and Fight another day.
I'll miss you and if there is an afterlife, I'll look in on you everyday.
As she read the text, she envisioned Joe saying these same words to Duncan and her eyes filled with tears as she remembered what a wonderful man he was and how much she missed that particular mortal.
Using her napkin to wipe the tears, she saw Duncan's teary eyes as well and reached her hand across the table to give it an affectionate squeeze. "He really was special, wasn't he?"
"He was my friend for almost 50 years. I've never had a mortal friend like him. He knew everything about me, even things I'd rather have forgotten."
The letter lay on the table and Duncan folded it carefully, placing it in his wallet again. The waiter brought their food and they both made noises as if they had not eaten for a long while and a banquet was set in front of them; however, both played with the food on their plate, their appetites forgotten again. Duncan looked at Amanda's untouched food and Amanda looked at his plate.
"I'm not..." they said in unison and then laughed nervously.
"You first" Duncan directed.
"I'm not hungry. I think I'd like to go back to our room and just sleep. It's been an exhausting evening." She replied, stifling a yawn.
Duncan waived to the waiter for their bill and paid the gentleman. They pushed back their chairs and walked to the elevator holding hands, but no words were spoken.
Reaching their room, Duncan used his swipe card to open the door, allowing Amanda to enter the room before him. The air condition hummed in the back ground, giving the air a chill and the room a slightly stale smell. Without looking at Duncan, Amanda took off her pantsuit, taking care to hang it up on the cushioned hangar the hotel supplied. She opened the drawer and pulled out a silk short white gown and walked into the bathroom to ready herself for bed. Duncan took off his clothes and hung them in the closet. He grabbed the robe supplied by the hotel and patiently waited for Amanda to finish in the bathroom. When she exited, she walked to the bed, placed her robe on the chair beside it and got under the cool clean sheets. Shortly after she retired to the bed, he came out of the bathroom, walked to the bed and also placed his robe on the chair by his side of the bed.
"Night Manda." He sighed, his voice tired and the effort it took to speak very evident in his soft speech.
The two friends (sum lovers) lay in the bed in the plush luxury hotel room both exhausted, both unable to sleep.
Amanda lay quietly, her eyes closed, but her
mind raced with so many thoughts. (That was a beautiful letter that Joe wrote.
I wonder if he wrote one to Methos. Methos- ah yes - our elusive friend. How am
I ever going to explain the latest twist in the MacLeod saga? You sent me to do
a job and it appears I'm failing abysmally. Tomorrow, I will figure this all
out, but I'm too exhausted to think.)
Duncan, restless and unsettled, tossed and turned, flipped his pillow, hit it and got up for several drinks of water, finally closing his eyes and trying to practice some ancient meditation mantras. (Why did Amanda want to see that letter? I miss Joe. I miss my clan. So many are dead- Fitz, Darius, Tessa, Joe, Richie. Why wouldn't she marry me?)
The rain poured down on the streets of Greece, soaking the blue jean clad ancient Immortal as he ran from his car to his apartment building. Cursing his luck, the weather, and innumerable Greek gods long forgotten, in several dead languages, he unlocked the door to his apartment, and placed his keys in the basket that sat on the white plastic table just inside the door. Peeling off his soaked beige sweater, his blue jeans and socks, he tossed the dripping clothing into the bathroom, telling himself he would deal with the mess later. Opening his wardrobe, he grabbed a pair of well-worn sweats and a t-shirt and went to the bathroom to grab a towel to dry his hair. Satisfied that he was no longer making puddles on his wooden floor, he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and walked to the computer area in his living room. The living area didn't hold much furniture and when the infrequent visitor to his place entered, the person often asked if he'd just moved in as there were at least a dozen boxes supposedly filled with furnishings for the apartment that lined the western wall. A non-descript multi colored overstuffed couch, a recliner, and a computer desk were the only pieces of furniture in the living area besides the television which sat on cinder blocks. The prefabricated bookshelves were dusty and held only a few odds and ends pieces and several journals, as Methos never lived without those precious items.
Sitting down in his computer chair, he flicked the switch to turn on the machine, noting with a smug smile that he may not have many comforts in his life, but his computer, his personal window to the world, was one item he always kept working. Scanning the headlines from the day, earthquake in Mexico, robbery in the market, bus drivers on strike, he frowned and inwardly sighed noting how even after almost six centuries, the world and humans had not really changed a lot. He clicked into the Watcher Network to see if there were any significant changes in that secret society. He wasn't an active member currently, but he knew that it was a good idea to always keep a finger on the pulse of things that effected you personally and the Watchers definitely affected him. The Watchers were having a seminar for new recruits on the latest surveillance equipment and there was a meeting of the Regional Coordinators to discuss assignments in Europe. Nothing out of the ordinary and he released a breath he didn't know he was holding. He clicked to open his mail and found 15 pieces. Twelve of them were junk mail, trying to entice him to purchase some latest invention, or offers to invest his money in some guaranteed get rich scam. Methos smiled at the irony of those offers as he had more money than any of these companies could ever imagine and sufficient funds to live numerous lifetimes. Of course, he intended to live many more lifetimes, but he knew his investments were sound and would provide the necessary provisions for him in the future. One message was from his solicitor asking him what he wanted to do with a certain trust fund that had come into a recent windfall from an unknown donor. Laughing at his twisted maneuvers, he made a mental note to himself to contact the man and give him instructions. The two remaining messages: one from a John Thomas and marked personal and one from the Valicourt.
(Valicourt- I know that name, oh yes. That was the man who almost took my head in Duncan's hair brained idea to have me help save their marriage. What on earth would they be contacting me for?)
He clicked on the message and the computer
screen lit up with an invitation.
Please join Gina and Robert in celebrating their love for each other
Shared loves, shared lives
Our hearts are joined together again
As we celebrate centuries of love and life together
June 10th 2097
At the Valicourt residence, Paris
5:00 in the afternoon
RSVP May 31st
Visions of the last wedding tumbled through his mind as he read the invitation. It had been a great time even if MacLeod had conned him into going. He saw many "old" friends and made a few new ones as well. (I wonder if Mac will be there? Of course, he will- you dumb ox. He's known the two of them for centuries.)
Thinking of MacLeod was a double-edged sword. He wanted to see the man, hold him in his arms, love him, be near him, but unless he was ready for this next step, he didn't think he could be near him. He resigned himself with the knowledge that Amanda, the inventor of conniving was working on that task as this very moment.
Remembering he had one last message, he clicked on it and waited as the computer downloaded a voice accompaniment to the file. A picture of a middle-aged man with light brown hair, sparkling grey eyes and nice smile graced his screen. As the picture completed loading, Methos stared and almost fell out of his chair, for he was looking at the splitting image of a brown haired version of Joe. (Thomas, Thomas- wasn't that Amy's name? - Yes I think it was. This young man must be her-... great grand son? How did he find me and better yet, what did he want? ) A chill ran down his spine as visions of hunters and slaughtered Immortals and Watchers graced his memory.
"Damn. And I thought I had a new lease on anonymity."
He clicked on the launch button and listened to the man talk.
"My name is John Thomas- Amy Thomas is my grand mother and if you are who I think you are, you will recognize the resemblance between myself and Joe Dawson. I would like to talk to you about some business. I do not want to share the nature of my business in this manner as I do not want to compromise anyone's safety. Please contact me at your earliest convenience. I got this address through a mutual friend. My phone number is (742) 555-1316. You may also reach me through this address. Please honor my ancestors by contacting me as soon as possible."
Methos clicked off the message and saved it to his hard drive. He needed more information than this man's word before going forward with this assignation. I think I will need to talk to that solicitor after all. Looking at the calendar, he realized it was Saturday and he would have to wait until at least Monday before a lawyer could investigate this man. He, on the other hand, had his own methods of investigating, and he would use those tools to find out what he could.
Methos closed his mail and clicked on the search engines of his computer. Going to the find a person section, he looked up John Thomas using his address. He found out that this man was a musician, ran a small local tavern, and was married to a woman named Genevieve whom he met on tour with his band. They lived in Seacouver, close to the loft, in a renovated warehouse district. His hobbies included collecting rare books, horseback riding, and cooking. He had three children; a boy and two girls. (Ah the wonders of modern technology.)
The man seemed harmless enough and he did have the Dawson genes, liking old books and music. In his almost six thousand years, he had learned caution was definitely in order when the unknown was involved. He wondered how this man had found him. Joe had been dead over fifty years and Methos' association with the Watchers had ended more than 30 years ago. He had a watcher, something he wasn't very happy about, but he was very careful to keep his watcher in the dark regarding most of his exploits. Of course they knew him as Michael Adams, newer Immortal, trained by Duncan, wanting to keep his association with that particular man as unsuspicious as necessary. As a known Immortal, he was free to associate with "his" kind, without drawing attention to himself. There were drawbacks to modern technology; and one of them was that the whereabouts of any one individual were quickly ascertained and keeping out of the "public" eye was almost impossible unless one wanted to live on a secluded island, something that unfortunately he was not too fond of in this lifetime. He'd gotten some basic facts about this John Thomas, but needed much more information before he was willing to contact him. He tried to remember if he had any friends in the area that he could contact to do a little investigating, but after searching his mind, he accepted the fact that he would have to wait until Monday, when he could contact his solicitor and use his vast resources. Wondering why the man didn't call him directly, he accepted that the e-mail, while greatly disturbing, was definitely less disturbing then a phone call would have been. Suddenly fatigued, the adrenaline dissipated from his system, Methos closed down the computer and grabbed another beer from the refrigerator.
Sitting on the couch in his living room, he drank his beer and let his mind wander. He'd just returned from a short holiday in Sicily where he ate and drank too much while charming the local ladies. Festival time was a great big party and he enjoyed the opportunity to frolic with the natives, a pastime he had vast experience in perfecting. He'd enjoyed the company of one young lady named Carmelita for most of the weekend. The combination of coal black hair and blue eyes and her unusual perfume attracted him to her and learning that he had no family in town, she invited him to join her in the weekend's events. Methos was none too shy in accepting her generous invitation. There were no illusions that he was seeking anything but a weekend liaison. They enjoyed the weekend, taking part in the town's parades and partying, then retiring to her room to enjoy their own fireworks. Overall, it had been an enjoyable time and Methos was glad for the respite from his everyday existence.
He'd spoken with Amanda several weeks ago when she and MacLeod left for their "walkabout", and he fervently hoped that she was correct in her assumption that MacLeod was finally ready for him. He spent way too many nights dreaming of the Highlander and while the weekend in Italy had been enjoyable, his mind was, as usual, somewhere else. Taking another sip of beer, he remembered his visit with Amanda that started this scheme.
He'd been working as a translator in a museum, a job that afforded him the luxury of indulging his love of ancient texts while presenting an acceptable identity to the world. He traveled some, but his responsibilities kept him in Greece most of the time. Few Immortals crossed his path and the few that did, didn't appear to be interested in his head. Amanda had been in Greece on a holiday and made a special trip to see him. Her visit touched him more than he wanted to admit, but she engaged him in frank conversation, something that few people did, and they had a revealing discussion about one stubborn Scot. They had gone to lunch at an outdoor restaurant overlooking the sea.
"I'm so glad you stopped by for a visit. It's been so long since we've talked." Methos leaned over and kissed Amanda on the cheek.
Looking over the menu, she gave the waiter her request and looked at her companion. "Is that the voice of a man desperate for friendly banter?" She teased as she leaned over and returned the friendly peck on his cheek.
"No, it's just nice to see a familiar face every once in awhile."
"Feeling secluded in the Greek isles? You can always join me, my dear."
"No. I have a life here and usually I'm very happy here." Methos kicked himself when he realized he'd let that revealing piece of information slip into the conversation.
Licking her lips, ready to pounce on the juicy piece of information, she coyly asked, "Usually. Do tell."
Trying to appear as nonchalant as possible and take back his unfortunate words, the ancient Immortal made a big production of placing his napkin in his lap and giving the waiter his order as well. "So what brings you to the islands? They are out of your usual path of destruction?"
"A girl could get offended by your remarks." She smiled at him to let him know that she really wasn't offended. "You're changing subjects, Methos. What does usually mean? Are you unhappy here? "
"No, I'm not unhappy. I'm a translator of ancient texts, something I'm a genius at- just ask my boss. I get to travel when I want and I stay away from the game, for the most part. What isn't there to like?"
Amanda looked around to ensure that no one was paying attention to their conversation, and continued in a whispering voice. "How long have you been here?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean how long have you had this identity?"
"Oh-...A couple of years. Why?"
"A couple of years is a long time to stay in one place for you. You usually flit around. I mean, you're not like MacLeod, you don't keep the same name for eternity." She watched her companion as she spoke and saw the small wince he made at the mention of MacLeod's name. "You really are hiding aren't you? You're hiding from MacLeod."
He'd known Amanda over eight hundred years and they'd been friends for all that time. She was probably the only person who knew more of the "true " Methos than any one. Unfortunately because she was allowed to know the "true" Methos, fooling her was very difficult. He could lie and tell her she didn't know what she was talking about, but he didn't want to do that. Maybe the time had come for him to admit the truth to someone. He smiled at her and took a drink of his water. "There are distinct disadvantages to allowing people to know who I really am. You probably know more about me than anyone alive, and I forget that you are almost as good at detecting my deceptions as I am at inventing them."
"I see." She paused as she tried to figure out what deceptions he was referring to. "No, I really don't see. Mac is one of the most generous, giving men I know and I don't see why you are hiding from him."
"Yeah- well there are still unresolved issues between us."
"Like?" Amanda signaled the waiter to refill her wineglass and looked expectantly at her companion.
"It's none of your business. What brings you to Greece? "
"You are not going to change the topic on me, old man. I'm too old to fall for that trick."
"I hear there is a great wine festival next weekend. Are you going to be in town that long? Maybe we could go together, for old times sake."
The waiter brought their food and they ate silently for a few minutes.
"I've known you a long time and I'm not leaving without an explanation. I can whine and wheedle with the best of them and I can be very persistent."
Sighing, he looked at her with resignation and told her the facts." Many years ago, way back when Joe was still alive," he stopped and thought fondly of his friend, the watcher. "I visited him and Duncan for a long weekend." His eyes zoned as many Immortals do when they are remembering an event in the past.
"And" She encouraged him to continue, wanting to know where this story ended.
"I finally admitted to Joe, I loved Duncan." (There he'd said it and now all hell was sure to break loose.)
Amanda looked at him, seeing his pain and his need still evident even all these years later. "But Methos, Joe's been dead for over fifty years. You mean to tell me you never told Duncan."
"No, I never told him."
"Because, he wasn't ready to love me. I couldn't take the chance of his rejection and ruin the last vestiges of our friendship. I'd rather have him as a friend than as a scorned lover."
"But...That's why you are here. Isn't it? You're away from him. Hiding in your own world, but you are miserable. " She looked at Methos for some acknowledgement of her reasoning and saw the slight nod of his head. "Don't you think it's time you told him? He has a right to know. Besides, he's not as judgmental as he was back in those days. He's grown up, you know. When was the last time you saw him? "
"About two years ago. I spent a very frustrating week in Paris with him."
Taking a few bites of her food, Amanda thought of a plan to bring her friends together. "Maybe, I'll go see him, feel him out, put a few little bugs in his ear."
"Amanda...I don't know about this. It might not be a good idea."
"And this is a good idea to love a man for over fifty years and never tell him. Whose brilliant idea was that? Did it work?" She paused a moment as she finished her sandwich. "Now let me work my magic."
"I don't need your help. I'm managing just fine." The sharp words made her wince, but she wasn't easily dissuaded.
"Managing. Let's see, you've isolated yourself on a Greek island, away from your friends and the man you love. Yes... I can see how you are 'managing'." She reached over and gave his hand a squeeze and watched his face as she saw how accurate her words were. "What are you afraid of? -----that I'll succeed- that you will actually have the man of your dreams and I do know that you are dreaming about him."
Methos winced at her words, knowing that he wasn't fooling her, but still unwilling to allow her to help. (I cannot let her do this. What if MacLeod says no and never talks to me again? I can't take that chance. I would rather have him as my friend than not have him in my life at all. But....on the other hand, if she could pull this off......It's hopeless. I'm damned either way.)
Willing to play with her a little and to see if she had a plan he questions her. "Let's just say I agree to this 'help' you're offering. How do you plan on convincing the most heterosexual of men that he should love me?" Laughing at the absurd statement he'd just made, he looked at Amanda and smiled sweetly. "You do realize this is hopeless? Convincing Duncan MacLeod, of the Clan MacLeod that he and I... Amanda, even you can't work those kind of miracles."
"Oh, don't underestimate me, Methos. I can do lots of things. Just let me try. Besides what do you have to lose? You don't have Duncan now and if I don't succeed you still won't have him." She took one last sip of her wine while she waited for his reply.
"I can't stop you Amanda, but you aren't going to be successful. If I haven't been able to let the man know my interests in fifty years, what makes you think you can open up his mind?"
She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then signaled the waiter for another glass of wine. "You won't be sorry, Old Man. I promise." She fervently hoped that she could pull off this latest stunt.
"But, Amanda...Don't let your new tail become too cumbersome when you have to hide it between your legs."
"Oh ye, of little faith."
"I hope you're right, but...."
"Enough Methos. I hear your skepticism and your fear. Trust me? Okay."
Swallowing the huge lump that had developed in his throat, he tried to press a smile on his face. "Okay."
The remainder of Amanda's visit was spent drinking lots of wine, reminiscing about Joe and Duncan and shopping. Amanda had cajoled him into buying her a few outfits to start her little quest, saying he owed her big for her help. He fervently hoped that her conniving ways would turn out as she'd said they would.
That little quest started several months ago and now Amanda and Mac were on a walkabout, whatever the hell that was. Amanda had kept him informed of their progress and some days his hopes were raised, but days like today when his world was turning complicated again, he wondered if this was meant to be. They were both strong Immortals, both targets for the "game" and the two of them together would make a great quickening for the "lucky" Immortal. To hell with the game! He'd been alive almost six thousand years and he wanted to have some happiness. The Highlander struck every cord in his very being, he enjoyed his presence, his courage, and his fierce loyalty. He had looked out for himself for so long and now he wanted the Highlander with him.
His mind turned to the strange e-mail from Joe's great grandson. Was Joe now haunting him from the grave? He had promised Joe he would send him a sign if he ever joined the Highlander. He didn't really believe in the supernatural and he'd been around too long to believe in life after death, (never seeing any evidence of the possibility in his long life) but he'd had enough things happen to him that were unexplainable that he gave some credence to the idea that Joe was tired of waiting.
Methos spent the remainder of the weekend reminiscing about Joe and thinking of various reasons why his grandson would contact him. When Monday morning arrived he contacted his sources in the states to find out more about John Thomas and try to ascertain why he wanted to contact him. He also put a call into Amanda's hotel, wanting to see if she had information on the man and also to update himself on her adventure.
Amanda had told Mac that there was a new store she just had to investigate and encouraged him to entertain himself while she went shopping. Mac, never eager to accompany Amanda while she shopped, readily agreed to the plan and they planned to meet at the hotel at 6:00 to discuss their plans for the evening. Amanda hailed a taxi and went to one of her many apartments that she kept throughout the world's cities and unlocked the door. Looking around the small apartment, she smiled, remembering that this was one of her favorite places. Sitting on the white leather sofa, she took off her shoes, placed her feet on the glass and chrome coffee table and calculated the time in Greece before she picked up the receiver to place her call.
A small kitchenette had two burners and a stove to cook the few meals she ate in the apartment and a wooden table that seated two was placed next to the half wall that overlooked the living room. The apartment had one bedroom with a queen-sized bed covered with a soft floral comforter in bright reds, yellows and blues and a five-drawer dresser that stood next to the window. The bathroom had a tub and a shower, but was located in the hallway. The apartment was clean as she hired a service to come in every few weeks to clean and replenish the staples in the cupboards. Knowing that there were always safe places to retreat to whenever the occasion might arise, her apartments were close to holy ground, a distinct advantage in her life.
Methos, hoping it was information about John Thomas answered after two rings. "Hello."
"I'm glad you're home. Got your message and this was the first opportunity to call. Hope I didn't take too long."
"Amanda. It's you."
"You sound disappointed. We're you expecting someone else?"
"Yes. I'd hope you were my solicitor."
"Your solicitor. Why would you be disappointed that I wasn't him? Help me out here, Methos. Is something wrong." Sitting up and drawing her feet under her body, she placed her senses on alert.
"I'm not sure. I received an e-mail from a man who claims he is Joe's great grandson and he wants to see me."
At the mention of the Watcher's name, Amanda almost dropped the phone and let out a small gasp. "That's creepy. Just last night, Duncan showed me a letter he'd found when he cleaned out Joe's things from the house last year."
"Yeah. It was very touching. Joe must have written it shortly before he died. He told Mac what a good friend he'd been and that he'd watch over him even after he died. Told him to keep in touch with the Watchers and that they might help him keep tabs on you."
"That old man was something." Methos smiled and thought about his own letter Joe had written him that last weekend he visited. "Interesting, he wrote me a letter too. Told me to send him a sign that I had finally gotten together with Duncan. Do you believe in spirits crossing the barrier?"
"Maybe you have something there, but... back to Joe's grand son. How did he find you? That's very frightening."
"There is that and I'm working on it. My preliminary research shows he is who he says he is. My gut instinct is that he's legitimate."
"You're instinct. Are you sure? It could be a trap?"
"It could be, but I don't think so. I'm having my solicitor look into for me and I will do some more investigation before I meet him."
"You think you will meet him? Methos, I don't like this one bit," as she nervously bit her lip and unconsciously tapped her foot. Swallowing her fear she continued. "Alright, but keep me in touch."
"Dear, of course. Besides I have other things to worry about. How is MacLeod?"
"How's your little plan going?"
Sensing her reluctance to elaborate sent waves of concern over the Immortal and knew she was hiding information from him. " Aaaamannnnda. What is going on?"
Playing with her short locks, Amanda got off the couch and walked to the small brick fire place with a wood mantle that held pictures of some of her favorite places in the world, Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower, a hillside in Toledo Spain and Fifth Avenue, hoping the serene pictures would calm her voice. "What do you mean?" She asked, trying to avoid the confrontation she knew was coming.
"I really wish I was there having this conversation. Your eyes are so expressive and I can see right through your lies, but alas an ocean lies between us. I still think you aren't telling me everything. What is happening?"
Knowing he had her ticket, she quickly rattled off," He asked me to marry him."
Silence greeted her from the other end of the telephone for what seemed like several minutes, but was actually only seconds. " I see. You really tried very hard, dear. I told you it wouldn't work." He gulped as he swallowed his hopes and dreams.
"Methos...I turned him down- flatly. We talked and I explained to him that he really didn't want to marry me, but that he was lonely. He agreed. He loves you; he just doesn't know it. Trust me on this one. It will work out."
"Manders, I want to believe you, truly I do, but..."
"But nothing. The man is lost. He has no direction and is very lonely. You should have seen him last night when we were talking about Joe. He needs someone in his life and I think you're the one. He just has to get there. " She wished she could have been in the same room as her friend to offer him a hug and reassurance, but had to settle for the persuasion of her words. "Mac needs someone to love and he is tired of hiding his true nature. The two of you will be very good together."
"I hope you're right. If I didn't trust you so much, I don't know if I'd believe we were having this conversation."
"You trust me, Methos?"
"Yes, I guess I do. Frightening thought, isn't it?"
"I can be trusted. It's nice to know that you do. Thank you. I better be going. I promised Mac I'd be back by 6:00. Since I told him I was shopping, I better come home with something or he might not believe me."
"Yes." He laughed. " Go shopping, but don't buy too many tempting items. You are still trying to convince Mac that he wants me."
"Of course. And Methos- Watch your head."
"I will." He promised and hung up the phone.
After hanging up the phone, he remembered he hadn't asked about the Valicourt wedding, but he knew Mac and Manda would be there so there really wasn't any reason to discuss the invitation. Now the question was whether he should attend. If he attended it would be a good excuse to be where the Highlander was without an explanation and he thought this might be a good way to judge if Amanda was leading him on or whether Mac really might be interested. He didn't have time right now to think about the event as his mind wrestled with his upcoming meeting with Joe's great grandson.
Mac went to the front desk of the hotel to
pick up his mail. Most of the mail this week were items he did not need to attend
to, but one piece caught his eye; it was an invitation from the Valicourt.
Smiling he took the mail back up to the hotel room and sat in the royal blue
plush chair by the coffee table to read it.
He opened the invitation and read the piece
of white card stock paper.
Please join Gina and Robert in celebrating their love for each other
Shared loves, shared lives
Our hearts our joined together again
As we celebrate centuries of love and life together
June 10th 2097
At the Valicourt residence, Paris
5:00 in the afternoon
RSVP May 31st
(It's been another hundred years. I can't believe it. How do they stay together? I wish I could find someone I could stay a hundred years with.)
Duncan remembered the last wedding of the two Immortals and the problems he'd encountered trying to convince Gina that she wanted to continue to stay with Robert. Methos had helped him stage a fake fight so that Gina would think Robert's life was in danger. The hope was that Gina would rush to Robert and then profess her undying love. It'd worked, but then Gina vowed revenge on Methos. Thank G-d everything had turned out fine and Methos had not lost his head to her. He would never have forgiven himself if Methos had been killed, especially since it was his idea to have him intervene. (I miss the Old Man- wonder if Amanda knows where he is. Maybe he could enlighten me on my current problem? I'll have to mention it.)
Reviewing the remaining few pieces, he put the mail down on the coffee table and went to the bar to pour himself a scotch. It was almost time for Amanda to return home and he had some nice thoughts about their evening's activities. She might not want to marry him, but that didn't mean he had to live like a monk when she was around.
Shortly before 6:00, Amanda came back to the hotel with several packages which she proceeded to model for Duncan. He particularly liked a black leather mini-skirt with matching vest and he quickly divested her of that outfit before she could ask about his afternoon. When they had recovered from their frolic, she spied the invitation on the coffee table and went to investigate.
Picking it up and reading it, she smiled and coyly walked over to Duncan who still lay in bed. She perched on the edge of the bed and kissed him on the lips, then lifted his chin with her hand. "I didn't know you knew Gina and Robert. I couldn't make it to their last affair- I was indisposed. How long have you known them? Are we going? Weddings are such fun. I wonder who else will be there? They do invite the entire Immortal community. It will be such fun to see everyone."
"Amanda- One thought at a time. Yes I know Gina and Robert- In fact Fitz and I both vied for her attention and tried to help her recover stolen objects from Robert. In the attempt, they met and well, she's only had eyes for Robert since. Their last wedding almost didn't come off and Methos and I had to save it."
"Methos?" She sat up straighter on the bed as mention of the Immortal's name and the upcoming wedding started new wheels turning in her head. "What does Methos have to do with Gina and Robert?"
Duncan related the story to her, trying to minimize his part in the almost fiasco.
"So, do you think he'll be invited?"
" I hadn't thought about it, but I guess he will. They have kept in touch since then. Why?"
"No reason. I haven't seen him in a while and it would be nice to do so. What shall we get them? Oh it will be fun to go shopping for a bride again."
"*We* will get them nothing. *I* haven't decided what I will get them. *You* may get your own present. And as far as Methos goes, I guess it will be nice to see him, but I'm not sure."
"What do you mean, you're not sure. Methos is your friend. He's lied for you, killed for you, left lovers for you and would come to help you if you needed."
Surprised by her rapid defense of the Ancient man, he eyed her suspiciously. "Since when did you become so fond of the Old Man. Is this Methos appreciation day?"
"I like Methos. I've known him a long time, Mac. Longer than I've known you and I want both of you happy." She quickly defended herself and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, hoping to diffuse the situation.
Sitting up in bed, Mac pulled the sheet over his legs, looked at Amanda with stern eyes and questioned her. "Happy? Amanda you aren't making any sense. Let's start at the beginning of the conversation. What aren't you telling me? "
Amanda knew she had given more information than she had meant to, but maybe fate was stepping in to speed up this process. She needed time to plan this conversation. "I'm hungry. Didn't you promise me dinner? I'm taking a shower and you may join me if you'd like." She walked into the bathroom, turned on the shower and stepped in to take a hopefully long moment to plan her strategy.
Duncan lay in bed reviewing the short mysterious conversation. (Methos, Me- happy- it doesn't make sense) Amanda was definitely plotting something and hiding information. (She sure scooted out of bed in a hurry. I'll let her finish, then take my shower.)
Relieved that Duncan had not joined her, she toyed with her options and came to a decision. She finished her shower and told Duncan that the bathroom was his, but to hurry as she was getting hungry and it was getting late. While he took his shower, she dressed in a white linen pant suit and put on her makeup. Duncan finished his shower, dressed in a pair of black jeans and a white button down shirt and joined her in the hotel room where they agreed on eating at the bistro two blocks from their hotel. They walked to the bistro, ordered their food and made small talk about the afternoon's activities, their "walkabout" and an upcoming auction Duncan wanted to attend at the end of the week.
Methos contacted his solicitor on Monday and received a quick reply. John Thomas was a musician, had never been in trouble with the law, and led a generally unassuming life. He still was uncomfortable with the ease with which he contacted him, but he wondered if his grandmother still had watcher ties and that is how he located him. Finding that Amy was still alive, he decided that the only way to truly get a handle on John was to go to a close source. He found information about her in the Watcher archives. She retired about 25 years ago, but with the advances in medicine, people lived to be well into their 100's and she probably still had all her faculties.
Amy had met him when she first joined the Watchers and he had saved her from Walker, a fairly nasty Immortal. Amy knew he was Immortal, but of course she did not know his true identity. As a retired Watcher, she would still have access to the Chronicles and could easily have found him through the network. Methos didn't like the fact that he was identified as an Immortal, but realized the inevitability of that in this electronic age.
Finding her current phone number, he made the call. His heart beat wildly in his chest as he toyed with the possibilities this call could bring, but he thought he owed it to Joe to give this descendant a chance.
"Hello. May I please speak to Amy?'
"This is she. Who is calling?"
"It's Adam. Adam Pierson."
"Adam Pierson." She hesitated a few moments before continuing. " The Adam that was my father's friend?"
"I see. Why are you calling?"
"I need information."
Laughing at the irony of the situation, she replied. "Joe always said you were a sometime friend."
Stinging from her words and acknowledging that from where she sat, they held a bit of truth. "Not that kind. I don't think. I need Watcher information."
"Watcher information. Isn't that the same thing? Who are you hunting, Adam?"
Sighing at his poor choice of words, he began the conversation again. " No, I'm not hunting. I need to know if the hunters are organizing again."
"I got a correspondence from someone who wanted to meet with me. He alluded that he knew about me. I wanted to check on his intentions."
"I see that John was successful. I'm glad."
"You know about this then?"
"Yes. John is my grandson. Joe's great grandson. He's found some journals, thinks they may be personal journals of an Immortal and wanted to discuss it with someone. I don't know many Immortals, actually you are the only one I know. I trust you as you saved my life and I suggested he contact you. I wasn't sure how to find you, but he said he thought he could find you without a lot of difficulty. I see he did."
"Yes, He did. How did he find me?"
"I don't know. You'll have to ask him."
"Is he a Watcher? "
"But he knows about Immortals?"
"Yes, he knows. He wanted to be a Watcher, but he wanted to stay in Seacouver, play his music, raise a family. A Watcher can't do that these days. It was really hard on Dad, watching Duncan, but he and Duncan had a special relationship. Most Watchers still don't know their Immortal and John didn't want to lead two separate lives. He didn't want to be a researcher either. He has a lot of Joe in him, the musician, the love of old books, living in a water town; you'd like him."
" I bet I would. Why didn't he just turn the books over to the Watchers, if he thought they belonged to an Immortal? How did he find them?"
"They were in some of the boxes that Duncan left about a year ago."
"Duncan left them. Why didn't he ask Duncan?"
"He thinks the journals may have been written by Methos and I remembered you were a Methos scholar when you were a Watcher. I thought you would have more knowledge of the books and would appreciate them."
The mention of Methos sent his heart pounding and his breath caught in his chest. He didn't say anything for a few moments. Taking a few calming breaths, he answered in a grateful voice. "Thank you. While I'm not a Watcher any more, I still have more than a passing interest in Methos and his journals. I might be able to tell if the journals were his, but even if I couldn't I would love to read them."
"Then you will meet him?" the statement full of hope and anticipation.
"Yes. Would you like to be there? A third party is always welcome under these circumstances."
"I would like that. When can you come to Seacouver?"
"By the end of the week."
"Good I'll let John know. He'll be very excited."
"I'll call you when I'm ready to meet."
"I'm looking forward to it. It will be nice to see you again, Adam. It's been many years. I'm sure you haven't changed a bit." She laughed as she made the sly remark to his Immortality.
Smiling to himself he confirmed her suspicions, " I'm sure I haven't. Goodbye, Amy"
Methos let out a sigh of relief as he hung up the phone. John wasn't hunting him, and he might actually have some old journals of his. (Interesting, very interesting. I wonder what else Joe had put away that he didn't tell me about).
The meal had been enjoyable, but throughout Duncan wondered about the conversation he'd had with Amanda earlier that evening. They each enjoyed an after dinner drink of Irish coffee and Duncan was tired of the small talk. He wanted some answers and knew that Amanda would not voluntarily provide them.
"Amanda." He called her name, startling her as she was watching the other patrons in the restaurant and trying to plan the conversation she knew was coming.
Trying to postpone the inevitable, she spoke through her forced yawn, "Nice, dinner. I'm tired; shopping must have worn me out. Let's go back to the hotel and go to bed."
"I don't think so." MacLeod smiled at her thinly veiled attempts to distract him.
"No, buts, my dear. After five hundred years, I know when you're avoiding me and this is one of those times. Its nice outside and if you'd like, we could walk and you can talk to me or we can return to the hotel and have this little conversation, but regardless, we will be talking."
Knowing when her charms weren't going to rescue her, she relented. "Let's walk and talk." (I can always run easier if I'm not in a hotel room.)
Duncan paid the bill and they walked into the Marseille night.
"So...What have you been plotting?"
"Amanda...I'm tired of your games. You've been making small talk all night and you're not fooling me. This evening you made a statement about wanting both Methos and me happy. Explain."
"I like both of you and I want both of you to be happy." She fervently wished that she were anywhere but here right now.
"I like him too, but 'happy'? You're still talking in circles." He grabbed her hand and squeezed it slightly. " Is he unhappy? If so, what does that have to do with me?"
(Mac can be so obtuse sometimes. I know I'm dead if I tell him the truth, but this charade is just that.) "You two are friends and friends want each other to be happy."
Confusion was written on his face as he tried to make sense of this convoluted conversation. He tried to 'think' like Amanda, but was having difficulty following her lead. "I can't make him happy, only he can do that."
Passing a bench as they continued to walk toward their hotel, he took Amanda's hand, motioning for her to sit. He gently pulled her face to his and kissed her lips. Mulling over the snippets of conversation she had shared, he repeated them out loud, trying again to connect the thoughts.
(Happy, Methos, friend...Is he unhappy?) "I take it you've seen him recently? Is something wrong? Maybe I can help?"
"I saw him about six months ago in Greece; he's been working as a translator there for about two years. He's isolated himself away from all his friends and he's lonely."
"I saw him about two years ago and he was just getting ready to go to Greece. He must like it, but he doesn't have to stay if he isn't happy. Why doesn't he come back?"
Amanda's heart beat wildly in her chest as she turned toward her long time friend. "He's afraid."
Duncan knitted his brows, unsure if he'd heard her correctly. "Afraid? Methos isn't afraid of anything. You're mistaken."
Reaching toward his cheek, she gently caressed it as she swallowed hard. "No. He's afraid of rejection."
"Rejection? Now you really have me confused."
"He's afraid you'll reject him." She met his eyes, trying to make him understand her meaning without further explanation.
"You're still not making any sense, Amanda. Why would I reject him? We settled our differences with the Horsemen a long time ago and as far as I know we haven't had any 'trouble' since that time." Looking into her eyes, he saw the mixture of pain and love there, understanding slowly dawning. "Rejection as in lov....." he stammered as he could not get the word out."
"Yes. Methos loves you and is afraid you'll reject him if he tells you."
MacLeod looked at the woman sitting next to him, his friend and confidante for over five hundred years and tried to process the information she had just shared. A multitude of questions vied for dominance in his brain, but he started with the most obvious. "How do you know?"
"He told me." She replied so softly he almost didn't hear her.
"He told you?" Duncan's heart fell in his chest as he tried to process this information. "What did he tell you, Amanda? I want to understand exactly what you are saying."
Sitting up straight on the bench, Amanda felt her sweaty palms and wiped them on her thighs to dry them. Biting her lip, she took a calming breath before she quietly answered her friend. "Mac, he's loved you for a long time, but has never felt that you were ready for his love. He told Joe that he'd tell you when the time was right, when you were ready for his love."
Hearing the Watcher's name, he sighed and interrupted her. "Joe knew?"
"Yes, Joe knew, but he promised Methos he wouldn't say anything."
"Go on." He urged as his emotions played havoc in his heart.
"I went to see him in Greece a few months back. He was miserable and he was hiding behind his work. I convinced him to let me see if I could help."
"So that is why you showed up?"
Thinking back to their surprise meeting in his home, his anger grew. "Damn you Amanda. I loved Jett."
Putting her fingers softly to his mouth, she shushed him. "No, Mac, you didn't and if you search your feelings you'll know that's true."
Unable to handle any further conversation, Mac stood up from the bench. "I need time to think. I'm going back to the hotel." He left her sitting on the bench and continued the half block to their current residence.
(Well that went smoothly. Methos is sure to kill me now. I wonder if I can salvage any of this? I know I'm right and Mac does love Methos, maybe this conversation will open his eyes...Dream on girlfriend- you're dead.)
Amanda watched Mac walk back to their hotel and debated whether she should follow him, but decided he needed some space. She stood up, walked to the curb and hailed a cab to take her to her apartment, thankful that she had a refuge. She would call him tomorrow, after he had some time to think.
Methos boarded the plane to Seacouver as he had promised, his curiosity piqued, but his caution on full alert. He'd told Amy he would meet with her and John on Tuesday of the following week and he intended to 'watch' John for a few days before they met. The plane ride was long and tedious, but he kept himself entertained by reading one of his old journals. He arrived in Seacouver and hailed a taxi to his hotel. He hadn't been in the city in a very long time, but it didn't appear to have changed a lot. He rested when he got to his hotel and after taking a nap and showering, he hailed a cab to the area where the Dojo was. He paid the cabbie and walked to the entrance to the building. Surprisingly, it was still a working dojo and there were patrons using the facility. He walked in and watched for a few moments and then was approached by a gentleman who asked if he wanted to become a member or take a class. He thanked the man and said he was thinking about it, but wanted to watch the patrons for now. When the man realized he wasn't going to make a sale, he left Methos to his reminiscing.
Methos' eyes glazed over as he saw himself and Mac sparring, their bodies sweaty from the exertion, and his mind filled with lust. Remembering their frequent spars and how often he had imagined Mac's well muscled body next to his, loving him, caressing him, kissing him, he felt his erection straining in his jeans and reminded himself that these were only memories and that those scenarios were probably never going to be a reality. Sighing at the still familiar site, he looked at the dojo, its mats, punching bags and other paraphernalia and left the building.
Next he walked toward the street and hailed a cab toward the "bar". Glad to see the bar was still around and that it still sported the neon sign "Joe's", he entered and was somewhat surprised to see how little things had changed in the ensuing years. The small round tables, the stage and the wooden bar still graced the intimate gathering ground. He could still see Joe. Mac and himself sitting at one of the small tables shooting the bull or just listening to the band. There were so many good memories in this place. He looked toward the bar and half-expected Joe to be standing there, beer glass waiting for his non-paying patron. A sigh escaped his mouth as he yearned for those days, but Methos was nothing if not pragmatic and knew that all those times were not happy ones. He remembered the fiasco with the Horsemen, Byron, and of course Richie's death. The bar held sad memories too, but he was glad it still stood. Joe would be proud to see that the fruits of his labors still carried on.
He wasn't here for nostalgia and he knew if he stayed in the bar, he would become very morose, so he turned and left that building as well. This time he hailed a cab and directed it to a tall structure not far from the bar. He paid the man and stepped out for a third time that afternoon. This was where John lived and he wanted to 'watch' the place for awhile. He found a strategic spot in a nearby alley and sat down to 'watch' his subject. (Funny, I haven't Watched anyone in a long time, much less a mortal. It is definitely turning the tables. I wonder what Dawson would say to this irony?) As he thought of the mortal, he again wondered about the books that John had found.
Methos watched John's home for two days and never saw any unusual activity. He followed John for two additional days, before deciding that he was what he stated; Joe's great-grandson, a musician, and lover of books. He had followed him to practice and to work and after work to the local bookstore. Nothing unusual happened in all this time and since his solicitor had not found anything unusual either, he decided that it was safe to meet with John and Amy. He would call Amy in the morning and set up the meeting.
Tired, but anxious, he returned to his hotel and ordered room service, eating dinner in his hotel room. He thought he'd call Amanda and update her just in case something happened to him, however unlikely. He placed a call to the hotel and asked that a message be left for her. He didn't want to ring her room and have MacLeod start asking questions. That detail taken care of, he took a bath and retired for the night.
Duncan walked into the lobby of the hotel, shortly after Methos had left a message for Amanda. The clerk, knowing the two shared a room, gave Duncan the message from Methos. Reading the message from his friend, renewed the anger and betrayal he felt. (Why couldn't he tell me he loved me? Why did he use Amanda? So many questions ran through his mind and the only one who could answer them was in Seacouver. )
Mac stopped as he reread the message again. "Am in Seacouver on the quest we discussed. Things are okay and I'm safe. Will watch my head. M"
(Why was Methos in Seacouver? Did Amanda know about this and why did he have to watch his head? Was someone hunting him? If he dies before I see him, I'll never forgive myself for not telling him the truth. Now where is Amanda? )
He sat in a chair in the lobby facing the door, anxiously awaiting Amanda's return.
The morning sunlight was hidden behind the heavy draperies in the hotel room, but Methos saw a small beam of light as it escaped the gap where the two sides met. The small light was bright and Methos hoped it was an omen for a fortuitous meeting, not that he believed in such things, but it was nice to pretend. He showered and dressed in his usual casual attire, wanting Amy to see him as she remembered him from so many years ago. He went to the small restaurant in the hotel and ate a breakfast of eggs and toast and drank some coffee. He'd picked up a complimentary newspaper from the front desk in the lobby and read it while he ate. After he paid his bill, he walked through the lobby and turned toward the park a block away. His meeting wasn't until 11:00 and he had several hours to occupy before the agreed upon time.
As he walked in the park, he noticed several sculptures in strategic places. The structures were beautiful and he wandered over to one, looking to see if information about the artist was provided as he would be interested in seeing more of their work. As he reached the sculpture and read the name, Tessa Noel, his heart dropped. Tessa had been Duncan's lover before they met and he had been devastated when she was killed in a random mugging. The two men had many conversations about her throughout the years and it was obvious to Methos that Duncan had loved her deeply and still missed her. He acknowledged that if her art was a window into her soul, as most art was, then she truly had been a beautiful person and he would have liked to have known her. Had she lived though, Duncan would not have been as vulnerable and he might not have fallen in love with him. (Who are you fooling old man? You would still have fallen for him.) Methos thought about the twists and turns of fate and wondered what she was going to hit him with later today. He looked at his watch and saw that it was time to leave for his meeting. Hailing a cab, he directed the driver to Amy's home.
Amy lived in a Tudor style structure with stained glass windows overlooking the street. The home was well cared for and had a well-manicured lawn and flower -beds. He rang the bell and Amy answered the door. Inside the home, Methos saw a well cared for residence as well. The foyer had black and white tiles on the floor and a small mahogany occasional table placed underneath a large mirror on the wall. On the table was a glass vase with cuttings of some fresh flowers from the lawn. An unobtrusive global light hung from the ceiling. She motioned him into the living room that was located immediately to the left of the foyer. As Amy led him into the room, she saw him eyeing the pictures on the piano.
"You may go look at them if you'd like."
Methos' steps were silent as he walked on the Oriental rug toward the piano where he saw pictures of Joe, Amy and her family. He picked up a picture of Joe playing his guitar in the bar and an ache in his heart swelled. (G-d I still miss that wonderful man.) He noticed a guitar in the corner and recognized the piece as Joe's. He wondered if anyone still played it.
Reading his mind, Amy answered his unasked question, " Yes, it's his and John still plays it. We felt that Joe would want it to continue to make music."
"I agree. I went by the bar a few days ago. I see it hasn't changed a lot. What kind of music is played there these days?"
Happy to hear that Methos had visited the bar, she reassured him. "John owns it now and he still plays blues there. I think Joe would be haunting us from the grave if we played anything else." She laughed as she saw the amusement her statement brought to Methos' eyes.
Methos returned to the sofa and continued to look at the room and wondered where John was. Sensing his tension from the stiff posture he held as he sat on the sofa, she asked if he'd like something to drink and he asked for a beer. When she returned with the requested beverage, he relaxed a little.
"I told John to come for lunch; I thought that would give us some time alone."
"Yes." He encouraged, hearing the hesitation in her voice.
"Is that the name you are going by now or should I call you something else?"
"Adam is fine."
"Thank you for coming. It means a lot to our whole family."
"Now tell me about these books. I do so love mysteries."
"Duncan, you remember him, don't you? He was the Immortal Joe watched."
"Yes, I remember him. (How could I forget the man when he is in my thoughts all the time.)"
"When Joe died he inherited his house, but he couldn't handle dealing with Joe's effects so he had them boxed up and put in the attic."
Taking a sip of his beer and nodding at her statement. "Death is hard for Immortals to deal with too, even if we see it much more often."
Amy walked to window and looked out at the street as she continued. "About a year ago the city decided to level Joe's place and Duncan came back to clear out his effects. I don't think he'd been back since Joe died and I could tell from the few conversations we had when he returned last year, Joe's death still affected him."
Nodding his head in agreement, Methos responded. " He was very close to your dad; they were best friends. Joe's death left a huge hole in all our lives, but especially Mac's."
"When Duncan came back, he brought us some boxes from the house. There were journals in there and a few momentos, nothing earth shattering, but John decided he wanted to read them, get a glimpse of who his great-grandfather was in his younger days."
Methos finished his beer and placed the bottle on the coffee table. Hearing the soft noise, Amy turned around, saw the empty bottle, and went to the kitchen to get him another. After he thanked her for the refill, she walked over to the piano and picked up one of the pictures of Joe.
"Did you visit with Mac?"
"A little. I was very close to him the last fifteen or so years of Dad's life, but after his death, ...well it's hard to be close when you never have contact with a person." Methos did not miss the slight bitterness and disappointment in her voice.
Trying to return to the subject of the journals, he asked, "So John started going through the boxes, reading the journals and......?"
"The boxes held glimpses into Joe's life; ticket stubs, play bills, posters of musicians- those kinds of these. It was the journals that interested John. He loves languages and studied them in college so he had little difficulty reading them."
"But what made you think these were Methos' journals?"
"The tales were very old, some written about historical events that occurred over 4,000 years ago. Not many Immortals are that old and John just thought you might have some insight."
"I see." He replied evenly, not giving away any information, just taking in the whole picture.
The doorbell rang and Amy went to let John in.
Kissing his grandmother on the cheek and handing her a bottle of wine, he entered the living room and eyed Methos sitting on the couch. Methos stood and extended his hand to the man.
"You must be..." both men said simultaneously and laughed at their situation.
Motioning to Methos, John said, " You first."
Extending his hand again, he introduced himself and then John did the same. Methos returned to the couch to drink his beer and John sat in one of the white chairs.
"John you are just in time. I've been telling Adam how you came into possession of the books and some theories you have about them. It's about time for lunch, so why don't we eat and we can talk some more after lunch."
Both men agreed and they were led into the dining room by Amy. The dining room had an antique oak table with matching hutch and buffet. The table seated eight, but appeared to expand to accommodate a larger number of people. Amy went to the kitchen to grab the sandwiches she had prepared earlier in the morning and brought them for her guests.
"I hope you like tuna and roast beef. I thought I'd make it easy today."
"That will be fine. At this point in my long life, food serves to nourish me and I've given up the idea of a feast at every meal."
John laughed at this statement. "If it's not too much to ask, how old are you Adam?"
Wincing slightly, but not enough for either individual to recognize, he commented. "We're like ladies John, you never ask an Immortal his age."
Swallowing hard, trying to forget his faux pas, he apologized. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."
"No offense taken. I see there are things your great-grandfather didn't tell you about Immortals."
"By the time I was old enough to ask, he and Mr. MacLeod were mostly friends. Grandad wasn't 'Watching' him officially anymore."
The luncheon continued with the conversation primarily about Immortals; their existence and how they handled long life. Amy offered information from a Watcher's perspective, emphasizing the need to write each Immortal's story for historical purposes. Methos asked about John's love of music and then asked Amy about her current life. John and Amy were fascinated with Methos' tales and stories, not realizing that many of them were greatly exaggerated tales with just a smidgen of truth to them. When the meal was complete, Methos had begun to talk about his current life as a translator and the discussion turned toward the journals John had found. The three of them returned to the living room and continued their conversation.
Turning toward Methos, John began his questioning in earnest. "Adam, so you are fluent in many languages?"
"Yes. I speak and read a number of them."
"Do you think that the journals in great-grandad's stuff could be Methos'?"
"I don't know, but I sure would like to know how he acquired them. It wasn't like Joe to keep artifacts like that from the Watchers."
"Well, I may have an answer for that mystery too. We found some personal journals in the boxes too. I've been reading them as well. In fact there were some journals in there with a lock and I didn't know how to open them. I tried finding a key, but I didn't see one in any of the boxes. I was hoping that either you or Mr. MacLeod could open them."
He got up from his chair and went to a closet, pulling out a small box of books and other paraphernalia. John carried the box to the couch and motioned for Methos to look at the contents.
Methos' breath caught as he recognized one of his journals and immediately wondered how Joe had gained possession of it. A mixture of anger (Why didn't Joe give me the journal?) and excitement (What lives have I forgotten that I get a chance to relive?) filled him.
"Let me look at the journal. I might have to take it with me to the hotel to really study it before I can determine if it was one of Methos'. Didn't you say that you knew why Joe didn't turn those journals over to the Watchers?"
"Well I have my theories. In reading the journals, he states that he intended to give them to you."
"To me? Why?"
"It sounds like he felt that as a researcher of Methos, you would gain a lot of knowledge from them and that if after you had studied them, you wanted to give them to the Watchers, you would. He was very fond of you, Adam and he respected your skills."
Standing up from the couch, Adam pretended to stretch his lanky form, when actually he was trying to hide his elation and silently acknowledge Joe's craftiness. (The man was a true conniver)
Amy offered him another beer and he readily accepted. After taking several sips, he returned to the couch, this time sprawling as was his usual manner.
"Didn't you say there were some journals with some type of lock on them? Let me see them and I'll see if I can open it."
John eagerly handed Adam one of the books and he read the cover. Journal of Joe Dawson. He looked at the book, turning it over in his hands and looking for hidden clues. He asked if he could take it back to the hotel with him and they agreed.
Methos spent a few minutes looking at the contents of the box and he agreed to come back in a few days once he had read some of the journals. The three talked the remainder of the afternoon, speculating about the contents of the locked journals and reminiscing about Joe.
Like a kid in the candy store, Methos left Amy's home and returned to his hotel room. He knew he'd have at least a few days alone with the journals and he was very anxious to read them. After stopping for a brief sandwich in the hotel restaurant, he retired to his hotel room where he stripped off his clothes and propped the pillows in bed to read his treasures.
He opened one of the journals and it definitely was his own writing. This one was written about the sixteenth century when he'd been traveling in Italy. His memories of those times were vague and he relished reliving them as he reviewed his journal. If this first journal was his, then the rest probably were too, but his curiosity was piqued by the mysteriously locked journal. (Why would Joe lock one of his journals?)
Methos picked up the journal and looked at it from all sides. The lock appeared to be a simple one and he bet that with his vast experience in breaking into things, he could easily pick it. Getting off of the bed, he went into the bathroom to see if he could find anything to help him in his quest. In his shaving kit, he found a nail file and used that to open the little lock. Going back to his comfortable bed, he opened the book and prepared himself to read some mysterious adventure.
To My Friends and Family:
I dedicate this last journal to all those who have touched my life. Please remember that I love you all.
MacLeod and I have finished our project or should I say the project of writing my history. I've been writing his for so long that I thought it only fair that he help me write mine. This will probably be my last journal as I know that I'm getting old and my body is failing. Adam was here last week and his visit was wonderful. I'm glad he came, knowing that I probably won't see him again. The man is amazing; he's lived for over five thousand years and yet he is as human as the rest of us. He shared a secret with me; he loves MacLeod, but the stubborn man won't tell Mac. Actually they are both stubborn, the Scot doesn't have a monopoly on that trait. Right before Adam's visit, Mac told me he loved him, but was afraid to tell him because he feared rejection. The two men had been playing see saw with each others emotions for so long, they were both afraid of pushing too far. I feel like I'm a character in a Shakespeare Tragedy, how sad for these two men. My only consolation is that they are Immortal and maybe one day they will figure it out. I asked Adam to send me a sign when he and Mac got together and I asked Mac to do the same. I don't really believe in the ability of the dead to cross the barrier, but I'd like to hope that I would be able to see them get together.
Methos almost dropped the journal as he read the entry, but caught the book and reread the passage a second and then a third time. (All these years...I've wasted all these years. Why didn't I ever see it? They say love is blind and I guess MacLeod and I get the prize.) He gently closed the book, too stunned to read anymore tonight. Mac loved him, had for a long time. (I don't need Amanda to persuade him; I just have to let him know the feeling is mutual.) Thanking fate for leading him to these journals, his thoughts turned to visions of Mac.
Stiff and sore from sitting in the uncomfortable lobby chairs, Mac waited for Amanda to return to the hotel. After the first hour passed and then the second, he realized she wasn't returning that night so he went up to their room. As he undressed and got ready for bed, he cursed himself for at least the hundredth time that evening. Amanda had told him that Methos loved him, but was afraid of rejection and that is why he had avoided him for most of the last fifty years. How could they both be so dense? He wanted so much to find Methos, gather him in his arms, tell him he loved him and make love to him for eternity. Then he remembered the cryptic message he received from Methos. He was in Seacouver on some mysterious mission and he needed to watch his head. (If he died before...No I will not think like that. The man is five thousand years old and he will not lose his head.) Mac fervently wished Amanda would return so he could find out about this mysterious quest. He lay on the bed and fell into an exhausted sleep.
In the early morning, Amanda woke up in her small apartment and remembered the events of last night. Mac and Methos were both her friends and she had vowed to help them, so she accepted her charge and readied herself to return to the hotel. She quickly showered and dressed for the day, then caught a cab. After arriving at the hotel, she went to the restaurant to grab a quick croissant and a cup of latte, then took the elevator up to their room. Swiping the card in the key slot, she entered quietly, hoping not to wake Mac if he was still sleeping. Stepping into the room, she found Mac sitting in the blue chair by the window and he smiled at her.
"Good morning, Amanda. Nice of you to come back." The sarcasm dripped from his words.
"Morning Mac. I can explain, really I can." She gently closed the door behind her and walked to the window, hoping to postpone the unpleasant confrontation she knew was coming.
"No explanations needed."
"Well, you see..." She stopped in mid sentence as his words registered in her brain. "Then you're not mad?" She walked over to the chair and kissed him lightly on the lips.
"I didn't say that, Amanda. You and Methos are two very conniving Immortals and I should teach you not to interfere. Don't you remember that you cannot fight my battles for me and this is one battle you will not fight?"
"Yes, but Mac this was a good battle." She moved over to the chair where he sat and started to sit in his lap.
"Not so fast, Amanda." He stood up wanting her to stew for a little while.
Not easily swayed from her task, Amanda placed her arms around MacLeod's neck and attempted to pull him into a hug. Ducking from under her arms, he walked across the room to the bed and sat down.
"So tell me how you became mixed up in this little game? I bet this was your idea?"
"Well...Methos really didn't want me to interfere and he said he wouldn't encourage it...but that I probably would try to become the matchmaker anyway." She sighed as she slowly walked over to the bed and sat next to Duncan and the pouting look on her face appeared sincere. "Oh, Mac....I only did it because I love you."
Laughing at her choice of words, he turned toward her and took her hands in his. " That's good, Amanda...love- You love me and here you are trying to hook me up with Methos."
Laughing at the irony, Amanda leaned over and kissed him. "So you're not mad."
"Oh I don't know who I'm more angry at: you, Methos or myself." Standing up and walking to the window, he looked out at the beach below, seeing the lovers holding hands and laughing and he envisioned himself and Methos one day in their place. "Amanda, there was a message from Methos last night. He left it at the front desk."
"A message, why didn't you tell me? Is he okay?"
"Now that we are telling the truth and we *are * telling the truth, Amanda. He demanded as he turned towards her, the accusatory tone evident in his voice. "What is Methos doing in Seacouver and why does he need to watch his head? I don't want to find out he loves me and then lose him to some silly challenge."
Sitting up straight on the bed, she decided the time for half truths was long past and if she were to have any hope of continuing their long relationship, she needed to be as forthright as possible. She started to explain the situation in a very matter of fact tone. "He received an e-mail from Joe's great-grandson about some books he found. He thought they might be journals that Methos wrote and asked him to come and look at them."
Mac repeated the salient information. "An e-mail? Joe's great-grandson has some of Methos' old journals? How did he get them? Let's start at the beginning Amanda. There are too many holes in this conversation. "
Setting up the context of the visit for Mac, Amanda explained, "Yeah, Amy's grandson. The family found the journals in the boxes of Joe's things you brought to them when you went to Seacouver about a year ago."
His heart pounded and his hands were sweating as memories came flooding back to him. "How does he know it's not a trick? They could be hunters. Maybe I should go to Seacouver to check it out." He walked toward the closet, pulling his suitcases from the shelf.
Walking to him, she gently placed her hand on his arm and turned him toward her. "Mac, he's fine. He's five thousand years old. He can take care of himself."
Processing her words, he stopped unloading the suitcases from the shelf in the closet and asked for her opinion again. " But hunters can be elusive."
"Mac...Methos has lived for five thousand years. He didn't live that long by not being careful."
Turning toward Amanda, he looked at her eyes, trying to judge the truth in her statements. "Maybe I should go to Seacouver and check this John out myself."
She looked at him, raising her hands in exasperation. "No you won't. Methos does not need you to watch his back, MacLeod. Haven't you learned anything in the last hundred years?
He's safe as he'll ever be. He just went to look at some journals." She reassured him and walked toward the bed, motioning for Duncan to join her.
Mac walked over to the bed and sat down beside Amanda where she gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. "I guess you are right. He can take care of himself." Feeling his heart slow down after the adrenaline rush, he thought about the journals that were the reason Methos went to Seacouver. "Wow, Joe had the journals all this time and I never knew. Sly old dog, wasn't he?"
"Yes, he was. I wonder how come he never gave them to Methos to look at?" She sighed in relief as it appeared Mac's fear and anger were quickly being replaced with amazement at this latest news.
"You are assuming that the journals are actually his."
"Mac, Joe knew enough about the Old Man to know that if a journal of his showed up, he'd want it. I bet Joe was just waiting for the right time and it never showed up." Amanda leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and squeezed his hand.
Thinking over her explanation, Mac wished he could talk to Joe again and ask him about the journals. He quickly agreed with her explanation. "Yeah, you're probably right, but still."
"It's kind of eerie." She shivered slightly, but quickly regained her composure and decided it was time to move the conversation along. "I think we've had enough speculation for one day, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. I want to know what you are going to do about Methos."
"Yeah. Really Old Guy. Perpetual scholar. Currently lives in Greece. New found admirer of your not so undesirable bones. Him." She answered as she looked over his body, remembering their shower yesterday. (Was it just yesterday?)
Shrugging and grinning at her description of the Ancient Man, he replied, "Oh him. I hadn't thought that far into the future. What do you think I should do?"
Blushing and smiling at the compliment she asked, "you want my opinion?"
"Well I think you should greet him in Greece as he walks off the plane, envelop him in your arms and retreat to his home for at least a week."
"Really?" He asked so sincerely.
"Oh Mac, he would love it and it would be soooo romantic. You'll do it?" Her voice rose with the anticipation of Duncan's agreement.
"No. Just wanted to get your opinion so I'll be sure not to do anything you think is a good idea." He quipped, laughing as he saw the crestfallen face she showed him.
Hitting him in the arm, she got up from the bed and went to the bar to pour herself a comforting glass of wine. Sipping it, she casually looked at Duncan and saw him thinking about his next step.
Duncan watched her pouting, thinking that at least he was getting to have a little fun this morning. Egging her on he continued the little game. "I think I need to go shopping for a present."
Grinning at the mention of her favorite past time, "What are you going to get him? I'll bet it will be something sentimental." She asked wistfully.
"I'm not buying Methos anything, I have a wedding to attend next week. I'll worry about Methos later."
(That man is infuriating, but I'm not going to let him get the best of me.) Wide eyed at the change in topic and the nonchalance that Duncan displayed, Amanda finished her drink and grabbed her purse. "Can I come? I do so love to shop for presents, especially wedding presents."
(Shopping and Amanda. I know I should never have used that as a ploy to change the topic. I am a fool to invite her to come shopping with me.) "You may come." He stood up from the bed making a big production of straightening his clothes. As he walked to the dresser to place his wallet in his pants he continued his little game. "This is my present, not yours. You have to buy your own. UNDERSTAND."
Understanding his spoken words as well as the unstated ones, she demurely answered. "Yes."
The two friends left the hotel room and went shopping for a present for the Valicourt. Duncan hunted for hours and decided on a Greek vase that depicted two lovers. There were only so many things you could give to a couple who'd been together for centuries and besides he knew the best present was his presence.
Reading most of the journals during his week
long visit, Methos thanked fate for his good fortune and Joe's forethought in
referring to him as Adam throughout the journals. As he read the remainder of
the Joe's private journal, he marveled at the man's prose and his insight.
Adam has returned to town after a long
absence. He and MacLeod are speaking to each other, but just barely. It seems
that there are still a lot of ill feelings since Kronos' return. Adam is taking
MacLeod's attitude very well. Amanda and Mac are enjoying each other's company
these days. The lovely Immortal is a refreshing jolt to watching the brooding
man. Today Mac met up with an "old friend", Steven Keane, no thanks
to Amanda. It appears that Mac wants to give him his head. Seems to me like he
wants to atone for his sins. I wonder if this has anything to do with the
Horsemen? Amanda is beside herself with worry and has enlisted Adam's help in
her quest to save her lover's head. Adam reluctantly agrees and kills MacLeod
on his way to fight Keane. One pissed off Scot, threatened to take Adam's head
if he didn't move. ...
(The man was a gifted observer and I miss
him.) Methos enjoyed reading about Mac's life. (I will take my vicarious
pleasure where I can get it.) He was fascinated by Joe's insights into
MacLeod's thoughts and actions. It almost seemed like he had a personal one way
connection to the man's brain. One particularly fascinating theme he found
throughout the journal were the entries concerning his bar tab.
October 20, 1997
Adam came to the bar again this evening. Drank five beers and one scotch.
December 13, 1997
Adam and Mac celebrated an early birthday for Mac. Adam had two scotches and eight beers.
February 16, 1998
Adam listened to new band all night. Drank a
case of beer.
(I guess he really did keep a bar tab.)
In the evenings, he spent a good deal of time at the bar and frequently wished that both MacLeod and Joe could have joined him for this little nostalgia trip. When he had read the journals and confirmed their authorship and contents for Joe's family, he felt it was time to leave. He told John and Amy that the journals were Methos' as best he could tell and that the other journal was a Watcher journal written from Joe's personal perspective with his views on Duncan, Adam, Richie and others of their kind. He asked if he could keep them and they agreed. He thanked them for their gifts of the journals and left a large amount of cash in the drawer of the bar on his last night in town. (I finally paid my tab, bar keep.)
Acknowledging that fifty years was long
enough to wait for Mac, he decided the time was finally right to tell him his
feelings. (Amanda will no longer need to do my dirty work.) He hoped Joe's
information hadn't come too late. Remembering the invitation to the Valicourt
wedding, he hoped that Duncan would be there. After fifty years, he would
finally be able to share his secret.
Methos flew to Paris and rented a room in a small hotel on the road to the Valicourt's estate. He didn't know what the fates had dictated for him. (With my luck, I'm finally allowed to find out about MacLeod's love and now he'll reject me. After all, Amanda told me he proposed to her. Better have a safe place to retreat if I need it.)
On the day of the wedding, he rose early, eating a breakfast of toast, juice and coffee. He spent most of the day shopping in the outskirts of Paris for a suitable wedding present and settled on set of matching crystal wedding goblets. They were fairly traditional, but he reasoned that a couple who would formally go through the motions of renewing their wedding vows every century, could appreciate traditional presents. After having them wrapped and an appropriate card attached to the gift box, he returned to his hotel to dress.
He decided he had time for a short soak in the tub and drew the water for his steamy bath. As he sank into the warm water and washed himself, his thoughts drifted to MacLeod. (Should I tell him about Joe's journal? Does he still feel the same? Will I make a fool out of myself? - Well it won't be the first time. Too late now, old man, you've come to face the music. I hope the fates are still smiling tonight.) He finished his bath and dried himself with the bath towel.
Dressing for the auspicious occasion, he felt like a virgin bride on her wedding day. He carefully cleaned up his usual strewn belongings and made sure there were several tubes of lube in strategic places. Glancing at the large king sized bed that was in the center of the room, he felt himself getting hard as he envisioned Duncan and he wrapped around each other's sweat slickened bodies in the throes of passion. (You're acting like a silly teenager with a crush. What if he doesn't want you? Fifty years is a long time; maybe his feelings have changed. The idea may be repulsive to him and he'd leave. No! He wouldn't do that. He may rebuff my advances and not want to speak to me for awhile, but he won't give up my friendship. Do I want to take that chance?).
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he grabbed his tuxedo jacket and the car keys, locking the door to the room and went to his rented Alpha Romeo in the garage. As he drove to the wedding, he allowed his mind to wander to a positive outcome of the meeting with MacLeod. (A great fuck tonight and his neck still intact the next morning.)
When he pulled up to the door of the estate, a valet took his keys and directed him to the ballroom for the wedding. The strength of the Immortal Buzzes almost overwhelmed him as he walked to the designated room and he wished that he had his sword on his person, instead of just his knives strapped against his waist and ankle. Entering the ballroom, he searched for Duncan and Amanda, but didn't see them and almost turned around to leave. A waiter stopped and offered him a glass of champagne and some hors d'oevoures, which he gladly accepted and spent the next moments engrossed in their consumption, hopefully making him less conspicuous. He glanced at his watch, seeing that the wedding should start in ten minutes and started to make his way toward the inner area where chairs had been set up for the guests. As he started to seat himself, he wondered if he should sit on the bride's or groom's side, then laughed at the absurdity of the question as realistically all the guests knew both the bride and groom equally well. He looked around a second time for his friends, but didn't see them and took the first empty seat toward the back of the room, closest to the nearest exit. (Always keep my options open, especially with this many Immortals. Gina and Robert will be busy with their wedding. While I would never expect them to interfere in a challenge, I would like to know I have some allies among our kind.) Disappointed at not finding Mac and Amanda, he wondered how quickly he could leave the reception without offending Robert and Gina. He knew that he didn't want to be on either of their bad sides.
The wedding music began playing and Methos turned his head toward the back of the church, gasping as he saw Amanda leading the procession of bride's maids. As she walked down the aisle, she caught site of him and winked at him as she flashed him a huge smile. (Well... if Amanda's here, then Duncan is here as well. Maybe this will work out.)
Grace Chandler and an Immortal he did not know followed Amanda and then Gregor, Kit and Robert filled out the wedding party. "Here Comes the Bride" began playing on the large organ in the room and Gina walked down the isle; MacLeod at her side to give her away. As they walked, Duncan saw Methos and smiled at him. Seeing Methos he thought to himself. (So he loves me? I'm glad Amanda told me about her little "game". This should be an interesting evening.)
Jolts of electricity shot through Methos as he received the smile and the emotional roller coaster he'd been riding since Seacouver slammed him to a full stop. (All riders off. Oh my G-d! I've been living in my own world when it comes to Mac, just my imagination living with its fifty years worth of accumulated fantasies. I haven't thought about the actual meeting with Mac, but now the fantasy ends and reality rears its head. What does that smile mean? Is he happy to see me, or is he just being polite? Does he still feel the way he did fifty years ago?) Methos nodded his head toward the Highlander, hoping none of his racing thoughts showed on his carefully schooled face.
The wedding was short and then the guests retired to the ballroom for the reception. As a part of the wedding party, Amanda left the room before Duncan and she quickly sought out Methos.
Finding him by the champagne fountain, she walked over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek as she garnered a glass of the sparkling liquid for herself.
"Methos. I'm so glad you're here."
"I see MacLeod and you are still friends even after his proposal?"
"Of course. I told you he would get over it."
"Then he is ready?" Inwardly laughing at the question after his latest discovery this week.
"That's okay. It's time I handled my own affairs." He walked away from her before she could respond.
Smiling at his clever handling of Amanda, he walked around the crowd until he spotted Duncan and went to speak with his friend.
"Hello, Duncan. How have you been?"
"Fine. I see you've been invited back again. Gina and Robert owe you a great debt." A waiter walked by the two men with a tray of champagne glasses and he took one. "Their last wedding was something to remember."
"How could I forget, MacLeod? You almost cost me my head with your hair brained idea." (Keep it light, old man. You don't want to get him angry.) "But it all turned out in the end."
A sigh of relief came over Mac, one he didn't know he was holding. He'd been afraid he'd sparked another sore spot with Methos and he didn't want anything to mar his plan. "I think I hear the waiters calling for us to move to the dining area."
"Didn't I see Amanda here somewhere?"
"Yes. We came together. Let's find her and we'll find our seats. It looks like Gina and Robert have put us at the same table." The two men looked for their conniving friend and followed the other guests to the dining room.
Gina and Robert had a feast to feed their fifty guests that came to celebrate their four hundred years together. Most were Immortal, but there were a few guests that didn't realize this was Gina's and Robert's four hundredth wedding anniversary rather than a renewal of their vows for the fourth time. Gina and Robert sat their Immortal friends together, hoping to alleviate any slips in conversation. The tables were small; seating only five to six people and the three friends sat with Grace, Connor and Kit. All three knew Connor and Grace and the only unfamiliar Immortals were Methos and Kit. Still not very comfortable with Amanda, Kit spent most of the evening talking to Connor and Grace. Thus Amanda, Duncan and Methos were free to discuss things without fear of providing too much information to their table mates. As the three friends accepted the first course of Waldorf Salad, Amanda watched the two men. She thought Methos was up to something, he was too accommodating. She remembered how well Mac had taken the information about Methos and hoped that tonight might be the start of a long intimate relationship between the two men.
"So, Mac.... What have you been doing lately? I haven't seen you in several years?"
"I've been working in the antiques business. Keeps me busy." He took a bite of his salad and wondered how he would ever get the conversation to move toward their relationship. " And you? The last time I saw you, you were headed to Greece to work as a translator."
"Yep. Still there."
"You like it?"
"It keeps me out of trouble and the 'Game' doesn't bother me there."
"I see. I hope you are still practicing though." Mac asked, his Boy Scout protectiveness still evident after all these years.
"Of course. I'm not stupid. I tell you being here with so many Immortals really does Not make me happy. I feel naked without my sword and it is rather hard to feel on alert when everyone around you has a buzz."
"I fully understand, but you know you are safe here." Smiling at the comment, Mac made a small wave around the table of friends. "Of course, I will always watch your back."
"Safe is a relative term, MacLeod, but I don't think anyone will be coming after my head during this party." Getting no openings with MacLeod, Methos turned toward Amanda to try to move the conversation in a direction more to his liking. " And what have you been doing, lovely lady. Don't tell me you have settled down and gotten a job?"
As she turned toward Methos, she wondered if she should tell him the truth about her conversation with MacLeod, but then decided to take Methos at his word and let him handle his own affairs. Taking his bait, she answered her friend. " I've been traveling with MacLeod for the last few weeks."
"Really. Where did you go?"
"Here and there."
"Amanda are you trying to hide something from me." He leaned down and kissed her as he whispered softly in her ear. "Don't worry, I will take care of our little problem."
"I couldn't hide anything from you or MacLeod. Isn't that right Mac?" She reached out her hand to squeeze his and continued. "Why just the other day, we were having a discussion...."
"AMANDA!" Many of the guests turned in their direction and Duncan quickly found an interesting design in the water-mark on the table.
"Are you holding out on me?" Enjoying this exchange and wondering what could be so disconcerting to his friend, Methos asked. "What were you discussing?"
The waiter arrived with their next course, shrimp cocktail, and the three of them ate in silence for a short time. Soon their fellow table guests joined them in conversation and Methos did not have an opportunity to find out what Amanda and Mac were discussing. After dessert was served, a band began to play dance music and Amanda grabbed Methos to dance with her.
Dancing a slow dance gave the Ancient Immortal an opportunity to pump Amanda for information. "Hello dear. It is sooo nice to see your pretty face in person rather than imagine its expressions over the phone." Methos whispered into her ear as he gave her a soft kiss on her neck.
"You too. I've missed you."
"Missed me? Why? You had Duncan to keep you company."
"Oh, Methos. You know what I mean. I like you, hard as that idea may be for you to accept. You make me laugh and don't judge me." She whispered back, making sure to keep the smile on her face so that Duncan wouldn't wonder about their conversation.
"Oh. You mean you don't like the Boy Scout's tendencies, any more?"
"That's not what I meant and you know it. Sometimes, I just don't want to have to live up to his standards. I can tell you about some nice piece of jewelry I admire or a beautiful art find, without you worrying that I'm going to take it." She kept smiling through her short explanation.
"That's because I know you, Amanda and I know you will take it."
Pretending to be offended, she mockingly hit him on the arm. "That's not fair Methos."
"Oh yes it is, my dear. It just hits closer to home than you like."
Appeased, she kissed his neck and they continued to dance until the band played two additional songs at which time, Methos excused himself.
"I think its Mac's turn. After all you did come as his date, dear."
As the band started up again, Amanda pulled MacLeod on to the dance floor and danced with him. After three songs, MacLeod excused himself and returned to the table where Methos sat drinking a glass of whiskey.
Pulling up a chair, MacLeod sat down next to Methos and signaled the waiter for a shot of whiskey too. "Sheesh. I'm hot. I think I'll step outside and cool off. Care to join me for a walk. "
(Thank you fates. Maybe this is the opening I've been looking for all night.) "That sounds wonderful. It is stuffy in here." The two men walked into the gardens with their drinks and enjoyed the fresh air.
Gina and Robert had lived at their estate for over two hundred years and had built a beautiful garden. A myriad of walking paths swirled the back lawn and provided numerous scenic views of flowering plants and trees. Summer just beginning, the gardens were blooming with color from the variety of pansies, hyacinths, petunias, and other plants that were spread throughout the gardens. Wrought iron benches stood in front of many of the gardens and Mac motioned for Methos to sit down at one that was located a little way from the main house.
Methos felt his heart racing as he sat down. (Is this it? Is he finally going to tell me he loves me? Has my fifty year wait come to an end? Maybe I don't have to worry about his readiness for my confession?)
Looking at the flower garden, Mac remarked, "It's beautiful out here."
"Yes." Methos could barely respond to the statement as he tried to keep the anticipation hidden from his voice.
"Glad to see you made it the wedding. It's been awhile since we last saw each other, not like when Joe was alive. The last time I talked with you, you were going to Greece to work as a translator. What have you been doing lately?"
His heart slowed to a more normal beat as he accepted this was not the fateful moment, but he thanked Mac for providing him with an idea. "As a matter of fact, I just returned from Seacouver."
"Seacouver. What is there in Seacouver and why did you go there? I was there about a year ago when the government tore down Joe's house, but I hadn't been there in fifty years. There's nothing there for me anymore and I can't imagine why you'd go there, Old Man."
"I actually have you to thank for the trip, MacLeod. It seems that the boxes of Joe's effects you left with his family contained some of my journals."
"Your journals? How did they get those?"
"I think that Joe found them and was going to give them to me, but he must have died before he had a chance. His great-grandson contacted me and asked me to look at them. His grandmother still had Watcher ties and they tracked me down. He thought they might be journals that belonged to Methos and they knew that I was a former Methos scholar."
Mac squirmed in his chair as he listened to the story, uneasy with the knowledge that the Watchers could track Methos that easily. Seeing his friend's discomfort, Methos explained. "He isn't a Hunter and I investigated the whole situation before I went. Even Watched him myself for a few days before setting up the meeting. I like my head where it is."
"But he found you so easily."
"I've known Amy for a long time- Saved her life when she first became a Watcher. After all, this is Joe's daughter and great-grandson we are talking about."
His unease a little assuaged, Mac remembered the journals. "So were they yours, the journals I mean?"
"Yes. There was also a personal journal of Joe's written just before he died. They let me keep that one too."
"I'd like to see that one. I have all the personal journals he wrote about me. I wonder why he didn't give me that one?"
"Oh I think that can be arranged. I have it back at my hotel. You're welcome to join me after the reception and read it. I think you'd find it interesting." He smiled with a knowing look.
"I'd like that. It's been a long time since we visited." Hearing the music from the band brought Duncan back to the wedding reception and Amanda. "I guess we better get back or Amanda might notice our absence."
Nodding his head in agreement, Methos got up and they walked back to the reception.
Walking into the reception area, they were greeted by a giggling Amanda. "And where have you two been all this time?"
"In the garden, " Duncan answered as he squeezed her hand hoping to give her a silent signal not to ask any more probing questions.
Understanding his signal, she looked at Methos and told him, "It's your turn to escort me on the dance floor. The band is playing "Twist and Shout" and our esteemed friend prefers to dance to music that is no younger than at least half his age."
Duncan started to argue, but decided it wasn't worth his breath and smiled as the two Immortals took to the dance floor for a body-shaking rendition of the Beatles song. The band then played "the Electric Slide" and "Time Warp" and they danced to those too. Methos excused himself and motioned for Duncan.
"I think I've had enough for one evening. Okay if we leave now?"
"Sounds good. Let me tell Amanda I'm leaving so she won't wonder what happened to me."
"Yes. I think that would be a good idea." Grabbing his tuxedo jacket off the back of the chair, he turned to Mac and replied, "I'll say goodbye to the wedding couple, then meet you in front. I'll have the valet get my car."
Methos went to retrieve his car and Duncan searched for Amanda. Finding her talking to Grace, he whispered in her ear that he needed to talk to her for a few moments. Amanda excused herself from their conversation, promising to return in a few minutes.
Duncan led her out to the back gardens and kissed her lightly on the cheek.
"Okay. Mac. What is so all important that you had to interrupt my conversation with Grace." She demanded.
"You're leaving? Where are you going? No one is after your head here. Why would you possibly want to leave? It is such a fun party." She asked, in a slightly pouty tone.
Laughing at her obvious confusion, he explained. "No one is after my head. I'm leaving with Methos, going back to his hotel."
Her eyes widened in response to his statement and she asked, " So you told him? I'm so glad it worked out. You two will be very happy."
Amazed at her one track mind, he laughed again and squeezed her hand. "No I didn't tell him anything."
Looking confused, Amanda tried to make sense of the conversation. "You didn't tell him you love him, or even have feelings for him, but you are leaving the wedding reception of your friends that you've known for three hundred years to go back with him to his hotel room. Help me out here, Mac."
"No I haven't told him, maybe I will soon. I'm going back to read a journal he found in Seacouver. Seems it belonged to Joe."
Feeling let down by the non-romantic situation, she flippantly replied, "Oh. Well have a good time." She started to walk back to the party and turned toward Mac, "I'll meet you back at the hotel."
"Okay. I'll see you later, Amanda."
Mac returned to the reception, saying his goodbyes to Gina and Robert and thanked them for the invite, then walked to the front of the house where Methos waited for him. Methos was pleased that he'd been able to maneuver MacLeod to return to his hotel with him and Mac was pleased that he'd be alone with his friend and he could finally admit to him how he felt.
The drive back to the hotel was uneventful and the two friends talked about the wedding, Amanda and their mutual friends. When they arrived at the hotel, Methos quickly removed his shoes, tie and jacket.
"Ah, This is more comfortable. Haven't liked dressing up since at least the seventeenth century. This century's idea of acceptable clothing is so much more comfortable. Don't you think, MacLeod?"
Watching Methos take off his restricting garments, Duncan's thoughts turned toward other pursuits. (He is so beautiful. All those sharp, clean lines and lean muscle. He hides it under all those baggy clothes he still insists on wearing. That tuxedo he wore tonight really showed off his physique. Maybe I can get him to take all his clothes off later. MMMM.)
"Drink?" Methos asked as he went to the bar to grab a beer for himself.
"Scotch." Duncan responded as he sat in the large blue chair in the sitting area of the room. "Now where is this journal? You've had my curiosity piqued all evening."
Pulling the journal out of the drawer, Methos felt his heart racing and his hands sweat. (What if he doesn't still love me? I'm a dead man if I try anything and....) He'd reached this stage and he wasn't turning back. He silently prayed to many forgotten deities that this adventure was not a big mistake. Trying to give himself one last reprieve he handed the book to Mac and smiled. "You know Mac... Joe had a very special place in his heart for both of us. He recorded what he saw and he did not interfere."
MacLeod took the proffered book and smiled. " I still miss him after all these years. Reading his words will be sad, but sweet. This looks pretty big; it may take awhile. What are you going to do while I read it? "
"I think I'll check my e-mail. Haven't had time to do so for a few days and it's probably over flowing my mailbox."
Shaking his head in understanding, Mac replied, "Yeah. Modern conveniences sometimes are such slave drivers."
Methos flicked on his computer, pretending to
read his mail. As Mac opened the large volume, Methos' heart raced, his hands
were sweaty, and he thought that the small beads of sweat on his forehead would
be easily visible to his friend. (Get a grip, old man. You gave him the book to
read, so pray the fates are still with you.)
To My Friends and Family:
I dedicate this last journal to all those who have touched my life. Please remember that I love you all.
...Adam was here last week and his visit was
wonderful. I'm glad he came, knowing that I probably won't see him again. The
man is amazing; he's lived for over five thousand years and yet he is as human
as the rest of us. He shared a secret with me; he loves MacLeod, but the
stubborn man won't tell Mac. Actually they are both stubborn, the Scot doesn't
have a monopoly on that trait. Right before Adam's visit, Mac told me he loved
him, but was afraid to tell him because he feared rejection. ...
As Mac read the first entry, he dropped the book in his lap and looked at the Ancient Immortal, sitting in the chair, watching him for his reaction. (He knows. Why is he staring at me? Is that sweat on his brow?)
Nodding his head slightly, Methos smiled at the Highlander, but continued to sit in his chair.
"Methos...That was a long time ago. Joe's been dead fifty years." Mac stammered as he tried to gauge his friend's reaction to the journal.
"Yes, it was MacLeod."
"You what MacLeod?"
"Nothing, Methos. I'll just finish reading Joe's journal and go to bed. It's been a long day." (Damn. I didn't mean to say that. I should think before I speak. Now I'll never be able to tell him.)
"If that's what you want." He replied softly, hopefully hiding the disappointment in his voice. Methos looked at Mac and saw the indecision on his face. "Well, did you have something else in mind?" Methos asked innocently as he silently prayed for an affirmative answer.
Looking at his friend, trying to second guess him was frustrating and Mac was tiring of the game. "Why did you give me the journal?"
"Why do you think?"
"I'm not sure. Why don't you tell me and that way I get the right answer the first time." (Damn. I don't want to anger him. I'm playing with fire here and I don't want to see him walk out of my life again. Better cool those responses.)
"Touche, MacLeod." Methos took a draw of his beer and walked toward the window of the room. As he looked out the window, his thoughts swirled with the multiple outcomes of this conversation. "I gave it to you because... I wanted you to know I knew."
(I cannot let him run this time.) "I see."
"Do you? What do you see, Mac?" His response was accusatory, but he kept his voice level, not wanting to let the Highlander hear the questions that remained unasked.
"You know. I told Joe I loved you. Is that it?" (This better be the right answer.)
"You may not have learned to read until you were seventy five, but you are a quick learner." The sarcasm dripped from his reply as he still was unsure where this conversation would lead.
Methos continued to look out the window, unable to look the Highlander in the eye, afraid his true feelings would be seen on his face. It appeared MacLeod was not interested in pursuing a relationship with Methos and all of his dreams were being dashed on what should have been one of the happiest nights in this century.
(I've hurt him again. Why do we continue to hurt each other when it would be so much easier to live in harmony? This cannot continue.) Walking over to the Old Man, he stopped, reached out his hand and stroked Methos' cheek. (To finally touch the man I've loved for fifty years. His cheek is still smooth from his shave earlier in the evening. I want to touch all of him. Please G-d, let it happen.) "So....Now you know."
Leaning into the caress, Methos silently thanked the fates. (His touch sears my flesh, it is electric. I have waited for so long for this moment. Maybe there is hope for us.) He closed his eyes, hoping to block out any stimuli from the room in hopes of cementing this moment in his brain forever. (At least I will have this to remember.) "Do you still feel that way, Mac?" (Please let him say yes.)
MacLeod leaned over and gave Methos a gentle kiss on the lips. A slight electrical current passed between the two friends and Methos opened his mouth to savor Mac's tongue. Their tongues slid over the wet surface of each other's mouths, tasting, touching, exploring the vast explosion of love that lay there. MacLeod pulled Methos into his embrace as he continued to kiss and explore the man in front of him, his eyes filled with love.
"Aye, I do. And you Methos?"
Looking into Mac's brown eyes and seeing the combination of love and hesitation there, he admitted. "As you read in the journal, I had a similar conversation with Joe the last time I visited him. My feelings haven't changed. "
Mac smiled as he remembered the visit. "All those secret conversations you two had while I was out of the house?"
"Yes. He tried to convince me to tell you. I didn't think you were ready and I told him I would wait until you were."
Digesting this information, Duncan placed his arms around Methos' chest and hugged him. "I told him I loved you just before your visit. We are a pair aren't we?"
"Enough talk, MacLeod." Methos reached for MacLeod again and his tongue explored the tender flesh of his neck and head marking his Highland Warrior with multiple passion marks even though he knew they would soon disappear from the sweet flesh. "Mine. All mine." He growled into the tender neck.
His hands reached down to pull Duncan's shirt from his pants and then moved inside to caress his sides and chest; appreciating the fine-muscled torso of the Highland warrior. MacLeod groaned at the multiple sensations attacking his body and he began his own explorations of his Ancient lover's body. His hands reached under Methos' shirt to find his nipples, erect and tender under his expert manipulations. He rubbed the nubs of the flesh between his fingers into hard pebbles and heard Methos' short breaths of ecstasy as he continued to tease the sensitive areas.
MacLeod pulled away from Methos. "Bed. Now." He said with much love and both men moved toward the large bed in the middle of the room.
The two men lay on the bed and MacLeod joked to Methos. "You talk too much, old man." He divested Methos of his shirt, sucking, biting and tasting each morsel of skin on the torso of his lover. Mac's hands were everywhere on the Ancient Man's body, pressing into the tender flesh, leaving finger marks and bruises as his need for Methos increased. Methos groaned at the burning touch, Mac's tongue and teeth leaving indelible impressions on his chest and his mind. "You are beautiful. I have dreamt of this moment for so long."
"Now who's talking too much?" Methos joked as he brought his lips up to Mac's, devouring the warm, sensual cavern that he had longed to explore. His tongue licked the lips, lapping at their soft, pliant form, savoring the earthy taste of the man. His tongue was greeted by Mac's equally eager one and they danced in each other's luscious mouths.
Mac lapped at Methos' neck, then the sensuality of the act overwhelmed him and he began creating a series of his own passion marks on his lover. Mac realized he still wore his tuxedo shirt and pulled away from Methos' neck to remove it. Methos whimpered at the removal of Mac's talented mouth on his body, but when he saw the reason for the removal he quickly helped Mac remove the shirt by ripping off the buttons and throwing the shirt on the floor. Once the shirt was gone, Methos climbed on top of Mac, unable to resist feeling the magnificent chest beneath his own. The heat from their sweat slickened skin almost too intense for their pleasure.
Mac leaned forward to kiss Methos, gently at first, but when his tongue felt the soft lips; he was drawn into their deep chasm, and one he didn't want to ever climb up from. Their tongues danced together, exploring, twining and savoring their unique taste.
Breaking their kiss, Mac searched and found the aroused nipples and quickly placed one in his warm, moist mouth, sucking the hardened nub as he kneaded the pectorals and taut stomach muscles. He moved to the other nipple and repeated his actions, and then he swiftly kissed his way down his chest to the top of his pants where he tongue fucked his belly button. Methos gasped at the moist heat from Duncan's tongue and relished the attention his body was receiving from his Highland lover. Caressing Duncan's locks, Methos arched his back into the Highlander's mouth, encouraging his explorations.
Methos' hardened steel lay trapped in his pants and he needed release now.
"I need you. I want you, MacLeod."
"Anything. Just tell me."
"Mac. Need you in me."
Mac removed the tuxedo pants and tugged them over the slender hips. As Methos lay naked on the bed, he stopped and eyed the ancient man, taking in the lean form and well- muscled body that was his. "How could I have been so stupid?"
"Mac. Talk later. Fuck now." Methos sat up and quickly rid the Highlander of his pants as well. Methos grabbed Duncan by the back of the neck and attacked his mouth with a hard tongue pressing, probing kiss. He reached into the drawer, grabbing the tube of lube he'd placed there earlier in the evening. Pulling away from the kiss, he popped the top off and quickly placed some on his fingers, then spread the thick gel onto his lover's cock.
"Need you now."
"Yes. Oh yes," Mac cried.
He placed Methos' legs on top of his shoulders and placed his hard steel at the tip of Methos' hole. Methos pushed toward Duncan, wanting the joining to be complete. Sensing the urgency, Duncan slowly pushed past the initial barrier and into his lover. The warmth and heat from the channel engulfed him, it's tight, hot, hold on his hard cock felt wonderful, fulfilling his dreams of the last fifty years. He moved slowly at first, savoring the moment, but the intensity of the experience caused him to speed up and pound into his lover.
"Mac. Oh Mac."
"Meethoooos" Mac screamed as he pulsated into the channel and felt Methos' cum squirt on his chest and belly.
Duncan lowered Methos' legs and eased himself out of him. Methos let out a small sigh of regret at the void, but was too spent to complain about it. He kissed Duncan and laid his shoulder on his chest and fell asleep to the soft muffled sounds of the blues that wafted through the slightly open window from the outdoor café next to the hotel.
Duncan looked at his friend and lover and
smiled. He gently kissed his forehead and smoothed a stray black hair. Duncan
smiled as he thought of Joe. (You were right, my friend. What fools we've been.
Fifty wasted years, but I promise I'll make it up to him.) Duncan pulled the
coverlet over them and fell asleep as well.