A/N this is not a new version of this story or an expansion of it. Rather, I've broken the story up for ease of reading and isolated two graphic sexual scenes. Enjoy :)

Six Months Later

Methos was ravenous and exhausted. His clothing stank to heaven and he actually had a beard, it itched. Cars roared by spraying mud and road gunge. He sighed and adjusted his pack. It was nearly empty. He hoped a bored trucker would stop or he'd hit a diner soon. He was tired of walking, tired of roaming.

Another car raced by and he tucked his shoulder to take the spray. He sighed. For a while he'd been traveling with a girl named Rocky, she said she was twenty-three but was maybe eighteen. She'd been good company but she was hyper paranoid and certain he'd leave her. So he did. He was kind enough telling her he had to be on his own and not leaving in the night. He hadn't picked up any companions since Rocky.

He'd been hitchhiking and living on the road for months. Ever since leaving Wichita Falls. It was coming up on Spring now. Which meant wet weather everywhere; he was ambling up toward Seacouver. He had a friend and a clean warm bed waiting for him. He'd made it nearly the whole way there months ago but something about being on the road, the anonymity of it appealed to him. So he'd called Joe, warned him he was taking the scenic route and kept his feet on the road.

"Bad idea." He muttered. Headlights warned him of an oncoming vehicle. He pulled the collar of his jacket close and put his thumb out. He got more mud.

Two hours later he stumbled into the parking lot of a 24 hour diner. He almost cried in joy. Visions of steak, hot coffee, pie, French fries and milkshakes danced in his head. He walked in and the bovine gum popping waitress glared at him. He reached into his pocket to show her he had hard cash.

"I've got a seat at my table." Someone said. Methos turned to the voice and couldn't believe his eyes. It was Jason Gideon. Methos didn't for a moment think that Gideon had somehow recognized him. Although if anyone could through his shaggy hair, beard, filth and ruined clothing it was probably Gideon. No, Gideon was the sort of guy who was decent in the most basic sense. He wouldn't let a distressed stranger go back out in to that rain and cold without a hot meal. Methos smiled. He pulled the money out of his pocket and showed it to the waitress anyway. She grunted and he walked over to Gideon's table.

The profiler was sitting with a mug of coffee and an open newspaper. He folded it as Methos approached and set it aside. He looked up and met Methos' eyes.

"Fancy meeting you here." Methos said with a smile.

Gideon looked stunned for a moment and then, to Methos' surprise, he smiled. The two hadn't parted on the best of terms. Several years ago Gideon had inadvertently gotten Methos arrested as a suspect in a series of gruesome murders in Seattle. Methos had been forced to reveal his immortality to Gideon and the B.A.U. team to stay out of prison and earn enough grace to stop the rogue immortal responsible for the slayings. Gideon had left the B.A.U. for his own reasons before Methos had been drawn back to the B.A.U. by another rogue. So it was that Gideon's warm smile was a surprise. At one point during the affair Methos had been convinced Gideon was going to assault him.

"Have a seat."

Methos obliged. The waitress approached.

"Hot black coffee, steak all the fixings." Methos said still staring at Gideon.

"Back in a jiff hon." The waitress sighed and shuffled off.

"She's been on shift for nine hours." Gideon explained said and sipped his coffe. Methos slipped off his bag and sodden jacket.

"I apologize for the stench." Methos sighed delighted to be free of the weight of the bag and garment.

"How long have you been traveling?" Gideon asked studying Methos speculatively.

"Uuuuh I dunno, what day is it?" Gideon gestured to the paper. Methos leaned forward, dripping water onto it and read the date.

"Huh wow, six months or so."

"Any destination in mind?"

"Seacouver, I have a friend there."

"Macleod? I thought he took off."

"Macleod's a man of habit. He won't give up his name why should he give up his city? No, after our little adventure Hotchner smoothed things. Macleod made himself scarce for a year or so and then came back."

Gideon sipped more coffee.

"So who will you be seeing in Seacouver?"

"It's a big city, I've got other friends. Macleod… he's the best friend you could ask for but his world view is a little too black and white sometimes. What about you? Any ultimate destination?"

Gideon smiled his small amused smile. "I'll let you know if I find it."

Methos nodded, he seemed sad. The waitress arrived with coffee for Methos. She moved to top up Gideon's but he held up a restraining hand.

Methos gratefully cradled the warm dark brew for a few seconds before sipping it.

"Have you been here for her whole shift?" Methos asked setting the coffee down.

"Hmm? No when I came in I asked her how long she'd been on shift."

"Ah, lemme guess, show's you're interested in her as a person, so you get better service?"

Gideon smiled quietly for a moment and sighed.

"Not everything is a calculated act Ben."

"Maybe not consciously. Maybe you were just being friendly and you were genuinely curious, but I bet she gave you better service." Methos said downing his coffee. It scalded his throat but he was impatient for the warmth, by the time he finished it his throat and mouth were healing.

"Why are you on the road?" Gideon asked, not arguing.

"Why are you?" Methos countered suddenly resentful.

Gideon cocked his head at him. Methos sighed.

"I… it's a long story."

"Six months on the road? Taking the scenic route to Seacouver?"

"Something like that. I dunno, I was almost there about four months ago, took my time getting there. It's not like the weather was great. It was winter, weather was worse than this I just…I dunno, I had to not be me for a while I guess."

"I know the feeling." Gideon said with a warm smile.

The waitress arrived with Methos' steak. He attacked it with gusto. Gideon watched in silence until Methos slowed his ravenous pace. Finally Methos pushed the empty plate away with a sigh.

"You're not pissed off at me anymore?" Methos asked.

Gideon considered the question.

"No I guess I'm not."

"Why were you?"

He was quiet for a long moment. "I think, in a way, I felt betrayed."

Methos laughed. "Seriously? Jesus Gideon, you of all people should have known there was something off about me."

"I did I just never thought killing people was part of it." Gideon sighed.

Methos studied his empty mug for a few seconds. He sat up and wiped at his mouth with a napkin.

"I'm sorry I hurt you Jason." He said finally.

The waitress arrived again. Methos ordered an entire pie and more coffee Gideon declined.

"How old are you?" Gideon asked.

Methos thought about his answer. The truth would be awkward, as it always was, but he felt reluctant to lie to Jason again.

"Why does it matter?"

"It does." Gideon said with a smile. He was right, it did. Methos scrubbed his face and shook his head. He looked around to insure the waitress was out of ear shot then leaned forward.

"I predate the Roman Empire." He said finally. Gideon cocked his head.

"Three thousand?" He asked studying Methos' face. Methos tried to keep his features still. He was good at it. In the early days of his relationship with Kronos any kind of reaction good or bad would earn a beating.

"Four thousand?" Gideon guessed again. Methos studied Gideon's soft warm brown eyes. Those eyes had seen horrors that would stymy most modern immortals. Certainly more gruesome sites than the royal Macleod had witnessed.

"Five thousand?" Gideon guessed again. Methos found he didn't want to lie to Gideon, didn't want to hide or waver on the truth.

"Ish." Methos said softly, his eyes locked on Gideon's. The surprise in Gideon's eyes wasn't unusual, the pity was.

Methos pulled back. He felt burned, frightened by the pity in Gideon's eyes. He turned away looked at his coffee mug. A strange sense of shame and exposure swept over him. Gideon's hand was on his suddenly. Methos tensed but Gideon gripped him firmly.

Inevitably the bad tempered waitress arrived with the pie. She stared at the two of them for a moment, popped her gum and left.

Methos laughed and relaxed. Gideon released him.

"You okay now?" Gideon asked carefully.

"Yeah, yeah I am. I'm … I'm sorry. I don't know what that was – I've never." He stopped babbling. Gideon stared at him for a moment and then cut himself a slice of pie.

Methos stared out the window at the rain over Gideon's shoulder. The exhaustion of the day crashed down on him. He wanted to lay his head on the table and sleep for a thousand years.

"Do you have a place to stay?" Gideon asked. Methos drew his eyes back to Gideon and the pie. It was some kind of berry. Methos picked up a fork and started to eat.

"Hadn't thought about it." He said after a few bites.

"C'm'on I've got a room. You need a shower for starters."

"Gideon, no I…thank you but I'll be –"

"Don't insult me. Come on." Gideon rose and offered Methos his hand. Methos stared at it. Taking that hand would be more than just help to his feet. It meant at least one evening in close proximity to the man with X-ray eyes. Still, there were worse things, he took it.

Gideon threw several bills on the table and picked up Methos' jacket and bag. He took Methos' arm and led him out into the rain. The rain stirred him from his stupor. He looked at Gideon's hand on his arm and shook it loose. Gideon glanced at him and – as though they were in a cheesy movie – lightning flickered through the sky lighting Gideon's face. Methos read concern, genuine and honest on Gideon's face. He felt tears sting his eyes and he didn't know why. He let Gideon guide him into his car.

Methos rested his forehead against the cool glass of the window. He felt Gideon's hand on the back of his neck. He sighed and felt tears sting his eyes again. What was wrong with him?

They arrived at Gideon's motel. Gideon helped him out and got him into the room. It was a double, two twins beds against one wall, a short walkway to an open closet and a door – presumably the bathroom, opposite the beds stood a dresser with an old chunky CRT television adorning the top. Methos stood dripping in the doorway. Gideon put Methos meager things on a chair and stood in front of him.

"Come on, you're soaked through." Gideon said gently and guided him to the bathroom. He closed the door and left Methos alone.

Methos stared at himself in the mirror. He didn't recognize the hollow eyed stranger with a ragged brown beard. He grunted and dug around for scissors. He clipped his hair and beard short then lathered his chin and carefully shaved it bare. A ring of clean skin surrounded his mouth; the area around his eyes was filthy. He still didn't recognize himself.

He ran a hand through his hair and stepped into the shower. The heat felt wonderful. He scrubbed head to toe three times and then just let it soak in. He let out a shuddering sigh and didn't move until the water started to cool.

Methos stepped out dripping and stared at the mirror. He almost recognized his reflection. He trimmed a few tufts of uneven hair and dried himself. He wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the door. Gideon was watching TV, or at least he had the TV on. Methos suspected it was just something to fill the silence. Gideon gestured at a pair of loose shorts and a sweatshirt sitting on the bed nearest the exit door. Methos dressed and sat on the bed for a moment watching Gideon.

Methos woke to the sound of birds. He was lying on his back staring at a fly specked ceiling, bright sunlight streamed through thin curtains. He blinked and sat up. He didn't remember falling asleep. Gideon was gone. He started to get up but felt a wave of nauseating exhaustion roll over him.

The doorknob rattled and the door opened. Gideon backed in with an armful of Styrofoam boxes. He smiled at Methos and set the boxes down, near the TV. Methos shrank away from Gideon. He didn't know why.

"Good morning, hungry?" Gideon's tone was even, calm, low almost what a parent would use for an ill child but not quite so obvious. Gideon lifted the lid on one of the containers revealing steaming pancakes and sausage. Methos' stomach rumbled.

"Why don't you grab another shower, wake up a little and have some chow?" He suggested and handed Methos the container along with a fork and a little cup of syrup. Methos ignored most of the suggestion and started eating still watching Gideon.

"I can't really say what happened last night Ben. If you need to talk I'm here."

Methos looked away from Gideon and thought about that. Gideon bore an extremely vague resemblance to Kronos. Mostly in build and coloring, the men moved differently, Gideon couldn't be more opposite to Kronos in temperament. So why was he freaking out?

"Kronos." He said and his throat closed. He closed his eyes. There he'd

"Kronos." Gideon said almost tasting the word. Methos opened his eyes and set his food aside.

"I…I have a pretty terrible past Jason. I don't … I don't know that I want you to know these things. I'll always know that you know them, they'll change everything between us." It was true one way or another if Jason Gideon knew his past their relationship would change forever. Granted he was never exactly happy when someone found out and thankfully that had happened pretty rarely until Cassandra showed up again.

"Ben, I'm not a clinical psychologist or a therapist, but I can and I will listen. I've spent my adult life trying to understand and anticipate the most twisted human beings we've ever encountered."

Methos sighed and ground his teeth. He sat up.

"Where are my clothes?" He asked hoarsely.

"Ben-"

"For fuck's sake Jason my name is not Ben. Which you should realize." Methos snapped.

Jason frowned. "What would you like me to call you?" He asked carefully.

"My name is Methos." He sighed and ran a hand over his face. He stabbed a fork into his pancakes and closed the carton. The room went quiet.

"Why did you pity me?" Methos asked suddenly, he was staring at his hands. "In the diner Gideon, why did you pity me? I saw it in your eyes-"

"That wasn't pity Methos, that was sympathy, sorrow. If you're five thousand years old then you've experienced the rise and fall of empires, countless wars, and almost certainly outlived every person you've cared about." Gideon said almost angry at Methos' suspicions.

Methos frowned then laughed and before he could stop it the laughter twisted into sobs and he was holding his face in his hands tears running between his fingers. With a force of will he halted the tears almost as soon as he realized he was crying and glared up at Gideon.

"Of all the people in my life, all the people I've told who I really am, none of them ever understood like that. None. So why you?" He asked hollowly, cheeks wet with tears, eyes red rimmed, jaw set and angry.

Gideon was silent. After a long moment Methos got up. He found his old clothes – freshly washed – and started to dress. Gideon rose and put a hand on Methos' shoulder, Methos whipped around and slugged Jason hard enough to daze him. The big man staggered backwards, catching his balance on the blocky outdated CRT TV.

Methos looked enraged and then horrified.

"Shit, Jason I –"

"It's okay. I just…." Jason said numbly, his words were garbled as he fingered his bruised jaw.

Methos walked into the bathroom and ran cold water over a washcloth. He came out and pressed it to Gideon's jaw.

"Move your fingers; I need to see if it's broken." Methos said curtly. Jason did, Methos probed the bone expertly and then grunted. He pressed the cold cloth to the bruised flesh.

"No breaks but the bone might be bruised." He said stepping back. Gideon studied him.

"Don't go Methos." Jason said as Methos resumed dressing in his old clothes. Methos paused and looked at Gideon, slow and hard. There was something in Gideon's voice, loneliness? No, not that, concern?

"I'm sorry Gideon, I promised my friend I'd be in Seacouver I… I have to go-"

"Let me take you." Gideon offered. He looked stern, unmovable, not to be dissuaded. Methos thought about arguing but he just didn't feel up to it. Being around Gideon was exacerbating his mood swings, maybe Gideon could help him get his head on straight.

"Yeah, okay." He sighed.

They finished breakfast and Gideon checked out while Methos went through his things, trying to figure out what if anything to keep. He grunted and tossed it all into the trash. He kept the empty bag and wore his old clothes

Gideon knocked lightly on the door, Methos twisted to look. The blinding sunlight outlined Gideon in a halo. Methos smirked, Gideon the savior.

"We're good to go, come on." Gideon said.

Methos followed him out knowing Gideon would note and analyze the way Methos ditched his things. He had kept one other thing in addition to his bag. The strange harness he'd been wearing for six months. He rolled his shoulder, a habitual gesture that tugged just enough on the harness to check its presence and security.

While Gideon drove Methos dozed, and eventually slept and dreamed.