Somewhere, in the back woods of sunny North Carolina, slumbering peacefully was an Immortal chap of immense age. He was settled into a rough campsite with a lean-to shelter and a well used fire pit. The events of the past few years had left him with a need to escape for a while and, borrowing a page from a certain immortal boy-scout, Methos had turned to nature as a means of relief.

The sun was just peaking over the tops of the distant trees when a particularly loud bird nearby chimed out a shrill greeting into the morning air. Methos awoke and blinked dully at the sky above him. Muttering a few choice curses about wildlife, nature, and this whole crazy idea he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Methos sighed and stretched, putting aside his complaints about his current situation and reveling for a moment in the fact that he not only knew where he was but what he was doing there. Both things may seem small but in light of the past couple of years, they were major accomplishments. Methos smiled at his good fortune.

"Nothing like getting back nature." The ancient immortal muttered sarcastically but happily. These last few months of wandering away from civilization and its complications had done much to restore his former good natured attitude. Nothing however, could be done for his overarching cynicism. It was a strong belief of Methos that pessimist is only an optimist with experience. Still, the sky was clear and it looked like it was going to be a beautiful day for backpacking. Methos was smiling again. He was still smiling when he rolled over and found himself staring into a golden yellow pair of eyes that had not been there went he went to sleep.

He let out as manly a yelp as possible and backed up quickly, scurrying back across the ground until he came up against a tree.

The eyes in question merely blinked. The woman to whom they belonged sat up slowly, looking around at the campsite with an air of confusion. Her eyes alighted on Methos as he pressed himself against the tree and the confusion turned to something like acceptance. She blinked owlishly in his direction then laid her head in her hands with a sigh. Methos noted her lack of sleeping bag and with a small amount of relief noted that she had not been in his sleeping bag.

"Not again." She muttered quietly.

Methos relaxed by degrees, still maintaining the small amount of distance his frantic scurry had gained him. Those five precious feet could be all that stood between him and something strange happening to him again. It had only been a few months since he left New York, he didn't think he was up to handling strange again at that moment.

The woman stood and rubbed her back. "Sorry about this." She sighed. "I didn't mean to disturb your camping trip."

Methos nodded slowly, still in the process of recovering.

"I guess I'll go." The mysterious figure brushed off her pants then turned to walk off into the woods

"Wait!" Methos called, standing quickly and reaching out to grab her arm.

Now why on earth had he just done that?

The woman turned slowly. She took in his hand holding her arm then moved her gaze upward to his own. A shock ran through him as he met her honey-gold stare.

"I think that it would be in your best interest to release me." She said calmly. "I said I was sorry now please let me be on my way."

For the first time Methos noticed a myriad of small cuts decorating her pale face. The cuts were not fresh but some of them had been rather deep and a small trickle of dried blood traced the line of her jawbone and ran down to soak into the collar of her torn t-shirt.

"Let me help you with those cuts, I have a first aid kit." He gestured towards his tent with his free arm. He had the strange impression that if he let go of her arm she would disappear and he would never see her again…

And why is that a bad thing? Asked the still small voice of self-preservation. Methos pushed the voice aside and attempted to smile reassuringly.

A look of shock flitted across the woman's face and she reached a tentative hand up to feel her face. She draw her hand back and examined a small droplet of blood on her finger. Holding it up to her nose she sniffed gently then looked back up at Methos.

Her eyes suddenly seemed cold. The honey-gold smoldered with a sudden hatred that made Methos wince.

Stupid stupid old man. I thought we were avoiding strange by being out here, not offer it medical care. Maybe he was not as back to his old self as he had hoped. There was no good reason why he shouldn't run screaming in the other direction and yet here he stood. Meeting the eyes of a wolf staring out of the face of a beautiful woman.

Still, beautiful or no, he was so totally out of here. The ancient immortal welcomed back the voice of self-preservation and it came back with only the barest of I told you so. If he ran to the north there was a house only two miles away. If he could evade her until then…

She drew a deep breath and made a visible attempt to calm herself.

Methos resolve to run away faltered. It was just first aid wasn't it? It was not like he was going to rush off and help her solve whatever trouble she was in. The voice of self-preservation surrendered to defeat and slunk off to sulk.

"I can walk by myself." She stated fiercely. Methos shook himself and let go of her arm.

'Sorry about that. I just…" He met her eyes again and forgot what he was going to say.

"First aide?' She asked helpfully.

Methos nodded. It wasn't until she looked away that he was able to recover rational thought.

"Sorry." She muttered.

Methos stumbled back to his tent to locate his unused first aide and wondered just what he was getting himself into.

I'm BACK!!

Fear me, love me, review me.

Rachel

P.S. Check out the new chapter in Hey! No Powers! For a teaser note about my battle with the muse.