This was written as a picture challenge, the picture used was a manip of Duncan and Methos called "Whisper" by Jubie. (the picture can be seen at This was the first story I wrote, and thanks to Tray who beta'd for me. The title came from the song of the same name by theIrish boyband Westlife, there was something in the words that wouldn't let me go! Highlander isn't mine, no monies made. Rating: K+ Pairing: Duncan/Methos.
Written In The Stars
1/4
Seeing the look on Duncan's face, Methos instantly realised what he'd said, and groaned at his faux pas. The evening had been going so well, until the moment he'd forgotten himself, and casually mentioned over the garlic bread that he had a dawn challenge with the notorious Joshua Clayton. Who was by all accounts, according to his Watchers file, not only an excellent sword master, but now also a renowned head hunter.
From that moment the evening seemed to take a positive nose dive. MacLeod had reacted in true highlander fashion, just as he always did when he was faced with an impossible situation, he completely over reacted. He became angry and started pacing, demanding to know how Methos could have been so stupid, and not walked away while he could. And then he really got mad no, not mad, blew his stack would be a better description when Methos had said with a shrug, that it was he that had challenged Clayton, and not the other way around.
"Clayton! You challenged Clayton! Are you out of your mind?"
"Clearly I must've been completely loco to do such a thing!" Methos had retorted with a smirk, stretching out on the couch, watching Duncan pace past him for the third time.
"It's not funny, Methos," Duncan warned, making a fourth pass. "What on earth possessed you to challenge him?"
"It seemed a good idea at the time," he answered truthfully. It had been at the time, but now he himself had come to doubt his wisdom in challenging Clayton. But then, what choice did he have? None, pure and simple.
Not when Clayton had informed him, with that sneering smile of his, that he'd been watching him for days, and he knew exactly who all his friends were, and more to the point, what exactly would happen to them if he was foolish enough to run. Methos realised then that he had little choice but to fight, MacLeod had the same chance of survival as he, but Joe…Joe wouldn't stand a snowball's chance in Hell. So before Clayton could issue any more threats, he challenged him, much to Clayton's delight.
"A good idea, a good idea!" Duncan was shouting again.
"You know you really shouldn't keep repeating yourself like that, people will start to talk!"
Duncan stopped dead in his tracks and turned, just as Methos lifted his finger to his head, and started making slow circular motions with it as he got up and headed for the fridge. "Cut the crap, Methos, I'm not in the mood!"
"And just why is that Mac, hmm? I mean it's not you that's facing him, is it? So why are you so bloody angry?" Methos demanded, banging his beer down on the counter and grabbing his coat, finally getting annoyed.
"Why! 'Cos I can't stand the thought of you throwing your life away. That's why."
"Well, it's nice to know you have sooo much confidence in my abilities!" Methos sarcastically bit back, putting on his jacket.
"That's not what I meant. What happened to your philosophy of "Live, grow stronger, fight another day?"
"It's another day Mac. It's time I stopped running away from every challenge."
Duncan sighed and took a deep breath, trying to regain control of himself. "Why now, Methos, why this one? Duncan asked quietly, before turning away.
Seeing Duncan's taught back dissolved any anger that was left within Methos. He could see that Duncan was upset, but what was he to say? How could he tell him that if he didn't fight, that Clayton would hunt and kill everyone he loved one by one, until he did? That would only anger MacLeod even more, and he would end up fighting Clayton before he could. He had considered trying to get Duncan to return to the States, which would mean Joe would follow them back, and be out of harm's way. But after Clayton had asked him what the weather was like in Seacouver this time of year, Methos knew that there was nowhere left to run. Duncan would only become suspicious if he tried to hustle him into going somewhere else, which meant that he was left with only one option. He had to fight.
But after the fight, then what, what was he going to do, leave MacLeod, and Paris? Methos wondered with a sigh. The last few years since he'd known Duncan, he'd had more contact with other Immortals than he'd had in over a hundred years. Life certainly wasn't dull around Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. But with all the Immortals that congregated around him, and now with himself bringing in the likes of Kronos and Clayton into their midst as well, Paris was getting a little bit crowded.
His survival instincts had been trying to tell him for sometime that maybe, for everyone's sake, and especially his, it was time to move on. The logical side of him knew this was true, that the Immortals would only keep coming, until one day, one of them would lose their head. It would be better for all their sakes if he just left after the fight. He had his contingency plan already in place, in twenty-four hours Adam Pierson could be dead, and he'd be on his way with a new identity to places unknown. Not that there were too many places that he hadn't been before, if any.
The more he'd thought about it, the more he believed it was for the best, which was why he had agreed to have dinner with Duncan tonight; he wanted a last evening with him. A chance to say goodbye to him in his own way, without really having to say it, he'd already spent most of the day with Joe doing the same thing. Leaving was always hard, and this time wouldn't be any different, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He didn't need to risk Mac's life to prove what he already knew; Duncan could survive without him around, but for him…life without MacLeod could be endured, but wouldn't be lived again for a very long time, if ever. But now, seeing Duncan standing there, he realised that this could very well be the last time he saw him. The last time he would have the chance to admit his feelings to him.
Feeling slightly relieved that Duncan still had his back to him, and couldn't see his face, Methos took a final deep breath and decided it was time. He reached up and laid his right hand on Duncan's shoulder, and gripped it, signalling him not to turn around. If he was going to do this, then it would have to be to his back, he couldn't bear to see those beautiful chocolate eyes filled with anger, or worse, hate. Not now.
"You wanted to know why, it's because I have to do it, that's why. If I don't fight this time and I run, the cost of doing so, to the people I leave behind, is too great to even consider.
"No, please don't turn around," he pleaded as he felt Duncan trying to turn. "I need to tell you something." Leaning in as close as he could to Duncan's lowered head he barely whispered the words that his heart had wanted to shout aloud for what had seamed an eternity, "I love you, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, and I have done for so long. Please don't resent me for saying it, but I needed to say it now, I might not get another chance. I want to thank you for making me want to live again. You've breathed life into these old bones of mine, just when I was ready to give up; you came along and gave me hope. That's a rare gift that you have there, Duncan, don't ever lose it." With that Methos turned and hurried out of the door as fast as he could.
As he ran up the steps and across the road to his car, he felt Duncan's presence growing weaker. But he was not far enough away that he didn't hear Duncan calling his name. He sat there for a moment wondering if he had done the right thing by telling Duncan how he felt, and if he was doing the right thing in leaving. He'd told Duncan that he wasn't going to run, and he wasn't, he would face Clayton as planned. Then after the fight he would leave, just as he always did, and that wasn't running away. As he dropped the clutch and pulled away, he wondered how many times he would have to say it, before he started to believe it himself.
2/4
After driving around for an hour trying to make his final arrangements, and clear his head, Methos decided to head home before the rapidly darkening sky could let lose its impending storm. Home, he wondered. Was it really that? Truthfully no, it was just somewhere to store his belongings. The saying goes, "Home is where the heart is," and if that were true, home was most definitely the barge or the loft, anywhere the Highlander was, that was home. Not here, he decided as he climbed the steps up to his apartment.
There wasn't much left to do, most of his things were already packed and ready to go into storage. The things that he really needed to have with him where ever he ended up had already been moved to a warehouse he owned. It wasn't much, a few books and some photos, and of course his journal. All that was left to do now was grab a few hours sleep, deal with the challenge, and then he was on his way.
The sudden feeling of an Immortal halted his progress and instantly brought his mind to the present. He silently cursed the other Immortal for showing up now, and himself for letting his mind wander over this plans, and not checking to see if Clayton was hanging around. Methos started to turn and head back the way he'd come, but before he'd even taken two steps, the door to his apartment opened and MacLeod stood in the doorway looking down at him.
There was no emotion on Mac's face as he stood there watching him, so Methos couldn't even judge his current mood. Then after a moment, Methos swallowed the large lump that had grown in his throat and asked, "Why are you here?"
"'Cos we need to talk," Mac answered him, before turning back into the apartment.
Methos watched Mac disappear indoors and gave a small sigh, knowing that Duncan had seen all the packing creates dotted over the apartment. He stood there for a moment, and then with a silent curse at Amanda for teaching Mac bad habits followed him inside.
Duncan was sitting on the edge of the couch amidst all the boxes Methos had left scattered around it, nursing a now empty glass, a second glass filled with the amber liquid was on the table, next to a half empty bottle of whiskey that hadn't been there earlier.
"So, what did you want to talk about?" Methos asked casually, taking the glass off the table and flopping down on the other end of the couch as if the carnage that lay all about wasn't even there, and their previous conversation had never happened.
"What do you think I want to talk about? You don't just come out with a statement like that, Methos, and then disappear before I even have the chance to react to what you said. And when were you going to tell me about this?" Duncan demanded quietly.
Methos' face flushed at Duncan's reprimand, but when he remained silent, Duncan just shook his head. "Oh, I get it; you weren't going to tell me, were you. You were going to do what you always do, just disappear. So where were you planning on going this time, or is that a secret too?"
Methos decided it was best not to answer and reached for the bottle instead. What could he say anyway; how ever he answered it'd be wrong. So the safest bet was to just let Duncan have his say, the sooner he did, the sooner he'd leave.
Out of the corner of his eye, Methos saw Duncan lean forward and take a deep breath, and then he heard him ask, "Will you tell me truthfully when you first realised how you felt?"
Methos drained his drink and poured himself and Duncan another, before pushing the bottle away from himself, wanting to stay clear headed for the morning. "Long enough." He half smiled to himself as he drained his drink again. "Why? Did you think it was a recent thing?"
"I don't know," Duncan admitted truthfully. "After Alexa, I just didn't think that you would have looked at me that way."
"Okay, you want the truth? Cards on the table: it was the first time that I ever read your Chronicles. There was something about this guy called Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, something that touched my heart, touched my very soul. And when I finally met him, he was every thing that I dreamed he would be and more. Is that what you wanted to know, Mac?" Methos answered sarcastically. "I'm sorry to disillusion you, MacLeod, but after five thousand years, I stopped looking at the packaging a long time ago. It's what's inside that counts, not what the outside looks like. I'm sorry, but you asked."
As he finished speaking, Methos got up and walked over to the window, waiting for Duncan to leave. But he didn't leave, and after a few moments he felt Duncan's hand on his shoulder, mirroring his earlier actions. Even as he felt Duncan lean in slightly he wasn't expecting to hear what he did.
"Is this why you spend so much time at the barge and the loft, hoping something's going to happen one day?"
Deciding to be completely honest, Methos gave a small sigh and said, "No, Mac that's not why. I spend so much time in your company because it's the right place to be. I've tried staying away, and I've always ended right back here again with you.
"You'd think after five thousand years I'd have developed a tougher hide, but I haven't. After Kronos arrived and I thought I'd lost you, I don't think I've ever felt so much pain as I did then. His turning up like that was just as much of a shock to me as it was for you. I knew I had to put as much distance between him and me as I possibly could. Only I was too late, he found me before I could leave.
"That day when Cassandra confronted me, I was coming to say goodbye, I didn't mean to lie to you about her, but seeing her again like that was a bit of a shock. So I did a gut reaction thing, I lied and got out of there as quickly as possible. Cassandra then worked her magic on you, and before I got a chance to leave, you turned up and confronted me about my past. The things I said that day, I said them not to hurt you, but to get you away from me…"
"They worked," Duncan admitted.
"I only said them to keep you safe; I couldn't risk Kronos killing you, of losing you. Then afterwards, with everything happening, I had little choice but to go with him. When he told me his plans and what he meant to do, I realised it was the only way I could think to find some way of stopping him.
"I've made some big mistakes in my life, MacLeod, and Kronos was the biggest. I'm not asking for your forgiveness, I just want you to understand that I'm not the same person as I was then. But despite everything you said I still came back, because being here with you is where I should be."
"If it's the right place to be, then why are you leaving?" Duncan whispered.
"Believe me, if there was another way, I wouldn't," he answered truthfully.
Methos turned half expecting to see Mac standing there uncomfortably in his presence, after he'd admitted everything. But what he found was that Duncan was standing so close to him that he could feel his breath on his face. Methos was confused at what Duncan was doing as he continued to study his face and eyes, as if it were the first time he'd seen them.
The moment seamed to stretch before them, Methos, held his breath as he watched Duncan lean forward ever closer to his lips. Only then as they touched did his lungs finally receive the oxygen they craved.
The touch of his lips was everything and more than Methos could have ever dreamt it could be. For so long he had wanted to be here like this, he could hardly believe this was happening, it had to be a dream.
Methos suddenly stopped, and pulled away.
"What's wrong?" Duncan asked as he unsuccessfully tried to pull him back into his arms.
"I can't do it," Methos said moving away from Duncan.
"You can't do what, Methos?"
"This," Methos, said gesturing between them. "It's just too late, MacLeod."
"Why is it too late? It doesn't have to be, you don't have to leave, Methos."
"Yes I do," he said, dropping on the couch and rubbing his face with his palms. "One of these days, something's going to happen, and one of us isn't going to be around any longer. I'm sorry, Mac, but I'd rather not take the chance that that person will be you."
"So you've decided for both of us that it would be better all around if you leave, rather than give us a chance?" Duncan demanded, looking at Methos. When he nodded, Duncan started across the room towards him, "You had no right to make that decision for me, Methos. You stand there and tell me in one breath that you love me, and then in the next, you say that it doesn't matter what, or how I feel about the situation, you're leaving anyway!"
"Don't you understand? I already told you how much it hurt when I nearly lost you before, it's not something that I ever want to face again."
"So you'd rather push me away, than lose me? It doesn't make sense, Methos. Why do that to yourself, to us?" Duncan asked, settling on the couch next to him.
As Methos looked at Duncan, he could see the desire within the depths of his eyes. Caught by the look on his face, Methos said, "I just don't like to lose."
"What is there to lose? Only your heart." Duncan told him, as he leaned in and started kissing Methos' jaw.
"Too late, MacLeod, that was lost years ago," he admitted, closing his eyes, and leaning into Duncan's fresh assault on his neck. He moaned slightly as Duncan started trailing kisses back to his lips, pausing there for a time, as he reached them. Eventually they had to pull away, and sat there with their heads together, trying to catch their breaths.
After a few moments of sitting like that, Methos felt Duncan get up, and then gently tug him towards the bed. As he sat down, Duncan leaned over and carefully undid the laces on his hiking boots. Then after pulling them off one by one, Duncan lifted his legs and swung them onto the bed, and pushed him down onto the mattress. As he lay there wondering what Duncan was going to do next, he watched Duncan walked around to the other side of the bed, and pull the spare cover up as he went, covering them both as he also laid down.
Leaning up on one elbow, Duncan pulled him into another tender kiss. Then, when they broke apart, Duncan kissed his nose, before shifting down the bed, and manoeuvring Methos onto his side as he went. Wrapping his arms around Methos' narrow waist, Duncan pulled him tightly against him, holding him close with his chin almost on Methos' shoulder.
They had laid like that for so long, without a sound between them, that Methos had begun to think that Duncan had passed out on him. Hating to disturb either the Highlander or the tranquillity that they had finally found together, Methos carefully half whispered, "Are you sleeping?"
"No, the angels can wait. Why?"
"You've been so quiet."
"I've been lying here thinking."
"What about?"
"You. I've been lying here looking at my life, and how everything's changed over the last few years. Yet the one constant in my life the past few years has been you…."
"What about Joe? He's been around longer than me."
"He doesn't count, he's always been around."
"I'll tell him that!"
"Knowing you, you would just to see what he says."
"Would I do that?" Methos asked with a smirk.
"Yes, you would!"
"Anyway, as you were saying?" Methos asked, getting comfortable again.
"Well, after you walked out tonight, I realised just how much you actually mean to me. I know this is probably going to sound bad, but I don't know if I can explain it without sounding lame."
"Try."
"Okay, well, everything seams to fall into place when you're around, it seams to be complete. I never realised until now, just how much you've become apart of my life. That's why I got so mad earlier, I shouldn't have, I know, I have no right to, but I've lost so many people that I've loved, Methos. I'm so tired of death, first Darius, then Tessa, and now Richie; I don't want to lose you too."
"I know Mac, believe me, if there was another way out I would have taken it, but this is something I must do. You can't interfere in this, please don't try and stop me."
"I can't stop you, and I can't fight in your place, so all I can say is please be careful and come back to me, and don't leave, we have a lot to talk about," Duncan said quietly.
When Methos hadn't answered, he felt the bed shift, and when he looked up, Duncan was leaning over him, resting on one elbow. As he watched him, Duncan reached over and gently cupped his face, and said quietly, "If you're willing, I would like to try and give us a chance."
Seeing that Duncan was being sincere, Methos closed his eyes for a moment, and for once listened to his heart. The smile that he gave him seemed to be answer enough for Duncan, and he leaned up to seal their fates together. The kiss was long and tender as before, until Duncan finally pulled away from him. Looking up at him, Methos saw a strange look fluttered across Duncan's face, frowning, he asked, "What's wrong? Not having regrets already are you?"
"No," Duncan stated adamantly. "Never that, don't ever think that." He smiled down at Methos and the look came back across his face again. "I was just wondering if you knew how much I loved you."
Even as he spoke Methos put his finger to Duncan's lips, to try and stop him from saying the very things his heart craved to hear. "Please don't." He pleaded, "Don't say anything more, tell me tomorrow, for now just hold me."
Being held again for one night was something that he wouldn't pass up on. To hold a loved one, or to be held by them, was a luxury that he'd always enjoyed. Unfortunately, over the last few years he'd had very little chance to indulge in this past time. But this night he could sleep in the arms of a loved one, feeling safe and warm.
Leaning down, Duncan gave him another brief kiss, before settling against him, and holding on as tightly as he could. Methos let his mind slowly pull him into the depths of sleep, trying to ignore the thunderstorm that had started somewhere off in the distance.
The early morning light filtered through the open curtain. As Duncan rolled onto his back, his eyes flicked open, and for the briefest of moments he wondered where he was. Methos! Snatching the clock from the bedside unit, Duncan glared at the time: eight am. Methos said his fight was at dawn, so where the hell was he? Surely he'd have been back by now, or at least have called to let him know he was alright?
Dark thoughts started to enter Duncan's head and he began to worry. Images of Methos' headless body started to crowd his mind, which became worse, when he remembered the thunderstorm that had suddenly stopped. It had been rattling around the sky for most of the night, and then he remembered that it had suddenly seemed to blow itself out sometime during the early hours of the morning with a loud clap of thunder. What had dissipated the energy like that? A Quickening? But if there was a Quickening then whose was it?
When another image of Methos' headless body lying broken in some deserted warehouse flooded into his mind, it sent Duncan heading for the bathroom, which he only just made. It was no good worrying like this, he decided as he sat down on the bed again, but the more he thought about why he hadn't said much more to Methos about his challenge…. He knew Methos was a survivor, but Clayton worried him, the odds were pretty much even, but if something went wrong… the thought of losing Methos was unthinkable.
As he sat on the edge of the bed, images of the last couple of years whisked through his mind; they had shared both heartache and happiness and been through so much, but they had survived. But just when they had become so close, and when Methos had begun to be much more than just a friend, he couldn't say. He wasn't even sure when had he fallen in love with him, but love him he did.
He remembered how he felt when Methos had declared himself: feeling the lump in his throat when he heard Methos asking him not to resent him. How could Methos ever think that he could hate him? It had taken him several moments to register that the warmth of Methos' hand was no longer on his shoulder, and as he had turned to answer him, the room was empty. He'd tried catch up with him, but by the time he'd reached the gangplank, Methos' presence disappeared from his senses.
Duncan groaned. Unable to just sit there any longer with image after image invading his mind, Duncan grabbed the phone and dialled. After a couple of rings a familiar gruff voice came on the line. "Someone had better be dead!"
"Someone could be," came the sighed reply.
"Mac? Is that you? What's wrong?"
"Methos took a challenge early this morning. I haven't heard from him since, can you please see if there's any news from the Watchers of who the winner was."
"Yeah, Mac, of course I will. I'll get straight on it. You think something's happened to him?"
"That or he's gone. Either way, can you see what you can find out?"
"What makes you think that he might have left?"
"That's what he was planning to do after the fight. I persuaded him to stay, but you know Methos, he could have been agreeing, just to shut me up."
"Try not to worry, Mac, he's a survivor, and I'm sure he's alright. Where are you anyway?"
"I'm at Methos', I won't leave yet just in case he calls, he'll know where to find me then."
"Okay, as soon as I hear anything, I'll call."
"Thanks, Joe." With that he put the phone down and stared blankly at the room around him. After a few moments he sighed, he had to do something to keep his mind off of what could have happened to Methos. First things first, he decided and headed back into the bathroom for a shower.
Duncan stood under the warm cascading water that tingled over his shoulders and down his back, trying not to worry. 'What was that saying Methos was fond of quoting?' he asked himself. 'If a problem has a solution then there's no need to worry, and if it hasn't got one, then worrying about the problem will not create a solution.' Easier said than done he decided as he soaped up his body.
Ten minutes later he was out of the shower and making a coffee, anything to keep his mind off of the impending doom that he was slowly feeling. Awhile later, and on his second cup of coffee, the shrill ring of the phone broke the silence of the apartment. Launching himself at the phone before the answer machine could cut in, Duncan grabbed it just in time. "Hello."
"Mac, it's me--"
"What's happened, where are you? Have you been able to find out anything yet?"
"Calm down, Mac. All I've been able to find out is that he did meet Clayton at dawn, and someone walked away. Who as yet we have no idea."
"What do you mean you don't know? What about Clayton's Watcher, where was he?"
"That's just it, Mac: we don't know any details because Clayton's Watcher is dead. The only reason we knew Methos had taken the challenge this morning, was because we already knew it was going to take place, so we knew what to look for. That and it was the only reported Quickening in the last twenty-four hours. There was also damage at the warehouse, but whether the damage was caused by Clayton, because of all the heads he's taken recently, or because of Methos' Quickening, I don't know. As soon as we hear anything else I'll let you know."
"Thanks, Joe. Listen, I've got to get out of here, the walls are beginning to come in on me. Can you give me the address of the warehouse so I can look around?"
"Sure, Mac," Joe said, rattling off the address of the warehouse. "You just be careful down there, we don't want to lose you too." Hearing Mac's sharp intake of breath, Joe quickly amended his previous statement. "I didn't mean it like that. I meant I don't want you going missing as well."
"I know, Joe. Just keep me informed. I'll be on my mobile. Bye."
3/4
This is hopeless, Joe thought again, as the car drove down the street towards the bar. Hour after hour they had searched. Duncan had eventually picked him up, and they had started looking in earnest for Methos. The Watchers were out looking too, but they were looking for either Adam Pierson's or Joshua Clayton's body, and like themselves, they hadn't any leads either. Although, as far as the Watchers were concerned, a new Immortal like Pierson wouldn't have stood a chance against someone as powerful as Clayton.
Joe had tried to be more positive, despite his colleagues' views. He knew Methos' abilities, and he kept telling Duncan that 'no news was good news,' that there was always a chance. But despite all of his encouragement, it really didn't help in the slightest. The longer they looked, the more convinced Duncan became that Methos was gone for good; he could hear the worry within Duncan's voice as he spoke.
He wouldn't mention it aloud, but doubts were beginning to surface within his mind too, Clayton was good, too good. Had Methos survived? Or had he simply left? It was the not knowing that hurt more than anything, but the idea of anything happening to that sarcastic old man really concerned him.
Even as they drove back to the bar, he could see the weight of sadness that was falling over Duncan. He'd watched him become quieter as the day wore on, and he could see that Duncan had begun to believe the worst, that Methos hadn't just left.
"Do you have any idea why Methos challenged Clayton in the first place?" Joe asked, trying to get his back comfortable.
"No I don't, he wouldn't tell me. He said it was just something he had to do," Duncan said as they pulled up to a stop light. "Do you have any ideas?" he asked, looking at Joe.
Joe shook his head, "You know, Mac, in the ten years I've known 'Adam Pierson' I've never known him to be that reckless. And since I've known who 'Adam' really was, I've noticed just how careful he usually is to stay away from danger. Which is why I can't understand why he challenged Clayton."
"You're not the only one, Joe," Duncan replied, turning the last corner, "who wants to know why the hell he did it."
Joe nodded. Right now, if he was truthful with himself, all he wanted was for Methos to be waiting at the bar for them. That and for him to have a really good excuse as to where he'd been all day.
As they pulled up to the bar, Joe quickly looked around to see if Methos' car was there, and then stared intently at Duncan, hoping against hope that he would see the familiar expression pass over his face. But it was to no avail, Duncan just sat there miserably. It was then that he realised that Duncan too, had been silently praying that Methos would be there waiting for them, and the realization of him not being there, had hit him hard.
"Are you coming in for a drink? You look like you could do with one," Joe asked as Duncan came around the side of the car to help him out.
"No, Joe, I don't think so, but thanks anyway," Duncan said, walking him to the door. "I'd better head back to the barge."
"Sure, Mac," Joe said understandingly, he knew that Duncan wanted to get back just in case Methos called.
As Joe watched Duncan walk back to the car, he could see the tension in his shoulders, and as he reached for the car door handle, he stopped. "Joe?"
"Yes, Mac?"
"If he is gone, you'll let me know w-when they find…."
"He's not dead, Mac, I'm sure of it. Methos, as you know, is a survivor. He always has been. Why should this time be any different? It'll be alright, Mac, one way or the other," Joe said, trying to reassure him.
"I don't know, Joe, it just wasn't meant to feel like this."
"Mac, until we find some proof that Clayton survived…."
"If he was still alive, we would have heard something by now," Duncan said flatly as he got into his car and started the engine.
"And if he's gone instead?" Joe asked through the open window, as he watched Duncan put the car in gear.
"I don't know," Duncan answered truthfully.
"Look, I'll call you tomorrow, and let you know if we've found out anything more. You take care of yourself, Mac, and try to get some sleep, please."
Duncan just nodded and drove away. Joe stood there for a moment scratching his beard, thinking, 'You had better be dead ol'man, or by the time I'm finished with you, you'll wish you were!' With that Joe turned and went into the bar to help Mike close up for the night.
As he went into the bar Mike spotted him, and called out, "Joe, I've left a package on your desk. I think it's what you've been waiting for."
"Thanks, Mike, I'll be out as soon as I've taken care of it," Joe called over to the barman and Watcher. 'But was it good news or bad?' Joe silently wondered.
As he wandered through the tables to his office, a few of the patrons spoke with him, asking how he had been and such, he responded to them as if everything was a normal Saturday night. But it was hard trying to keep up a happy face in light of everything that had happened today, so when he finally closed the door to his office, relief flooded through him.
On the table was a brown manila envelope with a Watcher's symbol in the top right hand corner. Sighing as he sat down, Joe carefully took the envelope knowing that the contents one way or another could change Mac's life. With a deep breath Joe opened the envelope; they were the last few weeks of Clayton's Chronicles. Attached to the outside of the file was a hand written 'post it' note explaining that Clayton's Watcher had delivered them the day before he died.
After quickly scanning the documents inside, Joe suddenly sat bolt upright in his chair as something caught his attention: "Spent another day sitting by the Seine as Clayton followed Adam Pierson back to Duncan MacLeod's barge. He continued to watch the barge today, as he has done for the last three," he read aloud.
"That explains a lot," Joe whispered to himself. "That's why you challenged him, wasn't it, Methos?" he asked aloud, grabbing the phone. "He'd threatened Mac or me, didn't he? So much for your, 'I only look out for number one.'"
The phone only rang twice before it was answered, "MacLeod."
"Mac, where are you?" Joe asked quickly.
"I'm nearly at the barge, why?"
"Just be careful, Clayton's Chronicles were here where I arrived. They said he'd been watching Methos for some time, so he knows where you live. I think maybe that's why he took the challenge; Clayton could have said something about us."
"Thanks, Joe, don't worry, I'll be careful."
"Okay, Mac, night."
"Night, Joe," he heard him answer before the phone disconnected.
Hanging up the receiver, Joe picked up the file again and had another look at it. Even though it didn't say what had happened to Methos this morning, it did explain that Clayton had been hunting him for weeks, trying to find his weaknesses, which, Joe already knew to be himself and Mac, which was why he'd done what he had.
Grabbing his cane, he went back out into the bar to tell Mike about the file, and what'd happened during the day. Like him, Mike was also worried about 'Adam's' fate, they had both gotten used to having ex-Watcher propping up the bar in the evenings, trying to drink them out of beer.
4/4
As the car finally turned the last corner, Duncan wondered how he'd actually made it home. Apart from Joe's phone call, the entire journey since he'd left him had been a blur, filled with images of Methos. Memories like the time he had painted Methos' nose and the look on his face as he had done it. That and many others had now become cherished, to be locked away in his heart. Along with those of Tessa.
Finally pulling to a halt, Duncan looked over at the barge. It was strange, in less than twenty-four hours his life had completely changed. Twenty-four hours ago the barge was home and just somewhere else Methos would turn up unannounced and invite himself to stay. Now…now it was different, it was the place that Methos had admitted his feelings to him, and had forced him to re-evaluate his feelings towards the ancient Immortal. To realise what had been there in front of him for so long…why hadn't he seen it before? If only he had, then they would have had so much longer than just one night.
Duncan sighed. He slowly got out of the car, and walked across the quay, looking about for the other Immortal, if he was there. As he did so, he could feel his feet dragging slightly. He was a little reluctant to go in, but as he neared the gangplank, a distinct shiver ran up his spine. From that moment on everything that Duncan was thinking or feeling took second place to the impending fight. As Duncan edged closer to the door, he strained his ears, trying to pick up any sound that might give him a clue as to who it was down there, but he could hear nothing. He tried to reason with himself that it could be any number of his friends, including Methos, causing his heart to skip a beat, but as always caution won out.
Carefully opening the door, Duncan glanced in, sword first: still nothing. As he came through the doorway, he noticed that the door of the bathroom was slightly open. He reached for the handle and stopped. Blood, but whose? Slowly turning, he came down the stairs and stopped again. There on the floor lay a bloody rag of what used to be one of Methos' shirts. Swallowing audibly, Duncan took another step forward, his sword still ready. He quickly scanned the room, and then almost dropped his sword in relief. There, lying on the bed was Methos. He lay on the bed so stilly, that for a split second he feared that he was dead, until the telling Buzz slithered up his spine again.
Rushing over to him, Duncan sank to his knees, the Immortal signature was still tingling up and down his spine, but it was slightly off, meaning that the other Quickening still hadn't settled yet. As he reached him, Duncan saw Methos move quickly, bringing his Ivanhoe up in a defensive move.
Despite the sword that waved precariously near his face, relief flooded through him, and his eyes told him that Methos was still in one piece. Duncan knelt there in disbelief, when a slight smile twitched at the corners of Methos' lips, and he whispered, "What kept you, MacLeod? I was beginning to think you'd stood me up!"
Duncan couldn't keep the smile off of his face, as he grabbed Methos and pulled him into a kiss. Nor could he help the tears that had gathered in his eyes as he continued to kiss him. After a few moments he pulled away and heard Methos groan. Seeing that Methos was still in pain brought back all the worry that he'd carried throughout the day, but before he could say anything, Methos put a finger to his lips to silence him.
"I know what you're going to ask me and the answer is that I never got the chance to call. After the fight, which I barely walked away from, I died from loss of blood. It was several hours before I woke again, and this was the first place I came to. It was quite a walk…."
"How come you walked? Where was your car?" Duncan asked, frowning.
"It was towed away. Well I didn't know it was a tow away zone, did I?" he said defensively at Duncan's raised eyebrow.
"Anyway, as I was saying, I was covered in blood, so I had to walk back. The first thing that I did was call you at my place, but the line was busy, so I thought I'd have a shower and try again after. But by the time I got out of the shower, there wasn't any answer at all, so I tried your mobile and that was switched off. I still didn't feel so good so I thought I'd better lay down for awhile."
"You had us really worried," Duncan admitted.
"Us?" Methos asked, trying unsuccessfully to get up.
Duncan nodded. "Joe and I, we've been out looking for you most of the day, I even came by the barge to see if you were here. Not to mention the Watchers were out looking as well. What did you do with Clayton's body anyway?"
"I somehow managed to push it into the river, then I left as fast as I could. That was just before I passed out the first time. I suppose I'd better call Joe."
Duncan nodded in agreement as he leaned in to give Methos a kiss. After a moment, Methos broke away and tried again to stand up, only to have Duncan stop him again.
"MacLeod, unless you want to have to clear up a puddle, I suggest you let me use the bathroom." As he stood, Methos gave him a peck on the lips saying, "I'm not going anywhere, Duncan."
"Too bloody right you're not!" Duncan retorted, as he stood up, smiling. Then he slowly walked over to the phone to call Joe, and tell him Methos was safe.
Duncan was just saying goodbye to Joe, as Methos came out of the bathroom. "How did he take it?" Methos asked coming down the stairs.
"About as well as you could expect, he was just about to phone me, and make sure I was alright."
"So, how is he?" Methos asked crossing over to the couch.
"Relieved!" Mac said pulling him into his arms and kissing him. "But," he said with a smirk, "Joe said that you had better have a damn good excuse ready when he sees you tomorrow, for not letting us know sooner, and causing both of us to worry so much. Made him age ten years, which, he said, unlike some inconsiderate SOB that he knows, he can't afford to lose!"
Methos smiled at Duncan's reply before quietly asking, "So you were worried, weren't you?"
"Yes I was," replied Duncan, in all seriousness, resting his forehead against Methos'. "It wasn't meant to feel like this, not without you. I don't ever want to feel to feel like that again," he admitted truthfully.
Methos wrapped his arms around Duncan, whispering, "You won't have to, I promise."
"Can I ask you something, Methos?" Duncan said seriously, pulling away from Methos.
"What is it?" Methos asked.
Duncan took a deep breath, before asking, "Did you still plan on leaving today after the fight?"
Methos nodded, with a sigh. "When I got up this morning, I had every intention of leaving after I'd dealt with Clayton."
"When why did you stay?" Duncan asked, not knowing how to deal with Methos' answer, and feeling slightly rejected by it.
"I stayed because," Methos said with a grin, "as I told you before, it's were I belong," he stated before pulling him into a gentle kiss, and then carefully guided Duncan to the bed.
"What do you think you're doing?" Duncan asked trying to keep a straight face.
"We've got some unfinished business. 'Sides, I've got one hell of a Quickening that needs settling!" Methos said with an impish smile full of mischief.
The rest of the night was theirs, they were finally together, just the two of them.
Fins.