Ch.1

"She reminds me of Alexa," Methos said with a wistful air. He took a sip of his freshly replaced beer and sighed, lost in his own memories. Duncan looked back at the waitress that was now taking orders from the table next to them. He scrutinized her appearance, her gait, cocked his ear to catch the trail of her voice, searching for anything that might trigger this bout of nostalgia from his companion.

"I can't see it, Methos," Duncan admitted after a few minutes of study. Methos pulled himself out of his reverie and eyed him.

"It's not a physical resemblance," the old immortal replied casually. "It's more of a… sensory resemblance."

Duncan looked puzzled. "How do you mean?"

Methos chuckled. "Same perfume, MacLeod."

Duncan rolled his eyes and turned his gaze back to the stage, where Joe and his band were playing a lively set that had some patrons creating a make-shift dance floor between the tables. He took a sip of his own drink, bobbing his head to the beat of the music. A quick glance at Methos showed a similar enjoyment of the rhythms.

Methos turned to comment on the selection, but noticed something more interesting in the form of a tingling towards the bar entrance. "Well, well. Look who's come to liven up the party." He smirked at Duncan, who had already turned to see who Methos was indicating.

"Amanda," he groaned. He slipped slowly down in his chair. The older immortal's eyes crinkled in merriment.

"Is it my imagination, MacLeod, or are you actually trying to avoid Amanda?"

"Not exactly. I more… just don't want her to know I'm here." He gave a small smile and slipped further down in his seat.

Methos snorted into his drink.

Duncan looked furtively back towards the area Amanda was heading, and slid completely off the chair to head in the direction of the restrooms, whispering a quick, "Back in a minute!" and disappearing into the small crowd of dancing guests.

Methos had just finished rearranging the items on the table when a voice whispered into his ear, "Fancy meeting you here." He turned with a knowing grin to face Amanda.

"Amanda! I didn't even know you were in Paris!"

She waved noncommittally. "I'm just here for a few days. I was trying to slip in and out, but I ran into an old friend." Methos stifled a laugh at the near-parallel situation. Amanda looked at the table with interest. "I assumed you'd be here with MacLeod, but it looks like you're here alone?" She did little to disguise her curiosity.

"Just enjoying the atmosphere, and the drinks on the house, of course," he countered smoothly. "I thought MacLeod was back in Seacouver?" He unobtrusively shifted the other man's empty glass under the coat he'd pulled off the Scot's chair.

"Well, you know Duncan." Amanda shrugged. "Anyway, I'd stay and chat, but I'd be ignoring some very pleasant company." She gave a saucy wink.

Methos watched her saunter back over to her nameless date, an attractive man by all accounts, and one whom he suspected was not such an old friend after all. He wondered how long they would stay. Then he wondered how long MacLeod would hide in the bathroom. He ordered another drink for the man and returned his coat to the chair. Fifteen minutes later, Duncan immerged, scanning the bar for the latest immortal addition and giving wide berth to that side of the establishment.

Finally sitting down, he downed his new drink and gestured for a refill. "Did she see me?"

Methos shook his head with mild exasperation. "No, MacLeod, she did not see you. In fact, I managed to convince her I was here alone." Duncan visibly relaxed. "Besides, I doubt she's looking for you at all. She seems to have brought her own entertainment."

Looking surprised, Duncan peered around at her table, just noticing her companion. With a slight frown on his face, he turned back to the man across from him. "I'm glad she's preoccupied then."

"You don't look it."

Duncan furrowed his brown slightly. "No, I am. I guess I'll just never get used to seeing her with other men."

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy?" Methos pried. He settled back in his seat, a sly grin spreading across his face. Duncan looked at him sharply.

"No, you don't."

Methos raised his hands in acquiescence. Mentally, he rubbed his hands in glee. It looked like he would be able to indulge in one of his favorite pastimes tonight; getting a rise out of Duncan MacLeod. He watched on as Duncan finished off his refill, and then indicated that the waitress should bring the bottle.

Oh, this was going to be good.

An hour and a half after Amanda and her unnamed guest arrived, they had finished off two bottles of wine and were getting quite cozy with one another, heedless to their surroundings. Duncan had kept a brutal pace with his drinking, and looked rather stormy and unsettled in his seat.

Methos had spent the last half of that time subtly egging Duncan on, engaging in a running commentary about the couple's actions across the room, and embellishing certain details in order to see the highlander clench his fists in frustration. He was midway through a vivid description of the guy's wandering hands when Duncan slammed the bottle down on the table.

"Enough, Methos!" Duncan glared across the table, cheeks slightly flushed. "Whatever they're up to over there is none of my concern!"

"Oh, now, MacLeod," Methos needled, "don't be surly. I was just keeping you abreast of the situation."

It was Duncan's turn to snort.

"I'm sure you'd want to know if she started back over in this direction, wouldn't you?" He leaned his chair back and took a long draft of his beer.

"I'm sure you could just tell me if that was the case."

"Careful, my friend. You'll ruin the mood."

"And what mood would I be ruining, exactly?" Duncan quirked an eyebrow.

"Certainly not your own; that went downhill as soon as you got back from the toilet." The older man stretched his arms up above his head and fixed his companion with a shrewd gaze. "I think you need some fresh air, Mac. Might help you clear your head a bit."

Duncan hesitated for a moment, but then nodded in agreement. He and Methos rose from the table, the former stopping to leave a few bills for the waitress. Methos noticed out of the corner of his eye that Amanda was signaling for the check, and maneuvered the two of them deftly through the throng of patrons and out the door.

It was a cool evening, but without a breeze it was pleasant. The city ebbed and flowed around them, and Duncan took several breaths to steady himself. Amanda. Why here? Why now? Duncan mused. He always enjoyed the company of his long time friend and sometime lover, but she did have a habit of getting him involved in situations he'd rather not be in. His thoughts shifted to his current company. Methos stood slightly apart from him, hands buried deep in the pockets of his dark jeans, eyes scanning the Parisian skyline, face inscrutable. Now there's a tough nut to crack, Duncan thought. The man was fiercely self-serving, and completely without remorse about it. Yet, as their association grew longer, he felt that the old immortal's armor was beginning to chink, and slivers of decency and compassion were leaking through.

Methos was caught up in his own machinations when he spied Amanda and her old friend on the other side of the door. He quickly gestured for MacLeod to become scarce and leaned nonchalantly against the doorjamb, nodding to the couple as they exited and turned down an alley next to the bar. He heard the faint melody of Amanda's laughter, and took a risk that they might have stopped somewhere in the alleyway. He gave a low whistle to signal the coast was clear, and Duncan reappeared a moment later, bemused.

"What do you say we take a walk? It's chilly just standing around." Methos did a little shuffle in place to emphasize his case. At Duncan's nod of ascent, he began strolling unhurriedly in the direction of the alley.

"Methos, can I ask you something?" Duncan was focusing on the ground, rolling a rock around with his foot.

"Ask anything you like." Methos grinned mischievously. "Just don't be upset if you don't get the answers you're looking for."

Duncan shook his head. "Maybe I won't ask then…"

"Go on, then. What do you want to know?"

Duncan looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "Back when you rode with Kronos. When you were a horseman…" Methos stopped walking and looked up into the night sky.

"A thousand regrets, MacLeod. Remember?" Methos continued walking, glancing into the alley as he passed it. He stopped again, just on the other side of the opening, and turned to look at MacLeod. "Coming?"