Note: This is a companion piece to House Cats Shouldn't Hunt Tigers, something of a sequel; reading it first is not completely necessary but might help with clarity.
Disclaimer: I own neither Highlander nor its characters, I'm just borrowing them. No copyright infringement intended.
Le Blues Bar was packed, but that was nothing new, Friday nights were always busy because Joe introduced new musical talent on Fridays. As a consequence, the bar was hot and noisy; the usual smell of spilled beer mingled with that of sweat and a dozen different perfumes applied with much too heavy a hand. A myriad of characters populated the tables of the bar ranging from twenty-something hipsters to young couples to older blues fans.
Methos sat at his usual table, beer in hand, and while he waited for MacLeod's arrival and Joe to sit and watch the show with them, he entertained himself by people watching. As a self-proclaimed student of human nature, he enjoyed hypothesizing about a person's life and personality based upon the interactions that he was able to see in a setting such as this.
His ancient eyes scanned the interior of the bar, watching the patrons communicate with each other and taking in the verbal and nonverbal exchanges. The young woman with way too much makeup on, flirting shamelessly with a much older man – married man, Methos thought; the group of college boys that had already imbibed far too much alcohol and were joking obscenely with one another; a couple in their late forties, sitting at a small table in the corner chatting easily despite the ruckus. All much too easy for him, he wanted a challenge.
The door opened and another group came in, three couples by the look of it, and the only remaining table was for four. He watched them look around the bar, one of the men pointed at a nearby table occupied by a single woman, and the group split off. The three women and one of the men took over the empty table while the other two men went to ask for unoccupied chairs. That was interesting, Methos thought, that none of the women included themselves in the task. Strange but not extraordinary for sure, but it was enough to draw his attention to the lone woman's table.
The woman was fairly nondescript, not much stood out about her, she was neither beautiful nor unattractive, late twenties or early thirties; from her seated position it was impossible to determine height, but she was petite, unassuming. The taller of the two men smiled at her and started talking, Methos couldn't hear the exchange but it was obvious by his body language that he was requesting the use of her extra chairs. She never spoke but waved her hand in a dismissive gesture and each of them snagged a chair.
Methos watched the men take the chairs back to their table, settling in quickly and joining the conversation. Their dynamic was interesting, high energy, a lot of hand gesturing and laughing. His initial observation of three couples was proven false, but he had no doubt that they would be paired up by the end of the night judging by the amount of flirting.
The group failed to retain his attention, however, and Methos found himself watching the lone woman. She sat back in her chair, posture relaxed, her hands wrapped around a dark colored mixed drink. Rum and Coke, maybe? She seemed lost in thought, and he wondered if she were waiting for someone. She absently pushed her auburn hair out of her face, and he decided there was something familiar about her.
He was certain that he hadn't met her; he's much too good at remembering faces, but… As if she sensed his attention on her, she abruptly looked straight at him, the expression in her eyes cold enough to make him shiver. She dropped her eyes back to her drink, and Methos was suddenly reminded of his drunken adventure in an alley a few weeks earlier: he had stumbled upon a woman being harassed by two men; he had been just about to step in when the woman took care of the problem herself, with extreme prejudice.
It was impossible to know for sure if it was the same woman. The alley had been pretty dark, lit only by a couple security lights that had done little more than cast shadows and give the occupants a jaundiced glow, but the double homicide had been unsolved by the local police force. Her hair color was, at least, similar to the other woman's -
"Just wait until you see the act I've got lined up for tonight, this guy is great." Joe greeted Methos as he sat down next to him. "Mac's not here yet?"
Methos shook his head. "He should be here soon."
The words had no sooner left his mouth when Duncan MacLeod arrived, his entrance was not noted by the observation of his coming through the door, but, rather, the fact that two-thirds of the female population turned to watch him walk through the bar. Methos rolled his eyes, but couldn't help noticing that his mystery woman was one of the very few that ignored the highlander, instead she was staring right at him.
"Adam, Joe." Duncan greeted when he reached their table, and Methos smiled a greeting. "What have you got set up for tonight?" He asked as he flagged down the waitress.
"Real up-and-comer. You will be impressed." Joe replied enthusiastically.
Methos' eyes slid back to the woman's table, but it was now empty and her drink sat nearly untouched; something about the situation set off every one of his alarm bells. If she was the woman from the alley she was very dangerous, and her appearance in one of his favorite places was concerning. Was she staking him out? Could she have even identified him? He was in the shadows; it would be hard to describe anyone from that night. He wasn't even sure that she was the same woman and he had been watching her pretty closely that night.
"Adam?"
Methos pulled his attention back to his friends. "Hm?"
Duncan looked amused. "Are you with us?
He was saved by the start-up of the act, rich musical chords filling the suddenly silent bar.