Summary: Gabriel takes issue with Cassandra.

Notes: I was watching the last few seasons of Highlander, you know the important Methos ones, and couldn't help but think of this when I watched To Be/Not To Be.
My understanding of Cassandra and her reaction to Methos is that she came to love him (whether honestly or Stockholm syndrome) and trusted him to look after her, and that it's his betrayal of that more than how he treated her that makes her hate him. Also, the fact that she hates herself for feeling anything about him at all. So, that's what I'm running with.

A Debt Satisfied

Cassandra snarled when she saw the small, rectangular card lying on the floor at her front door. It depicted the Statue of Liberty with its face warped into an absurd smile. The words 'Missing You' and 'Wish You Were Here' emblazoned on either side. She snarled as she picked it up and turned it over. In a scrawl were the words 'Still not dead'.

She'd had several of these postcards already, with variations on the wording, and there was only one man alive who would dare to taunt her in this way; Methos. The thought of him still living, laughing, loving, after all he'd done, made her feel ill. Clearly, he'd only waited long enough for Duncan's presence in his life to fade before he sought her out again. But she refused to be cowed.

There were a few contacts she could get in touch with and several more she could convince to come to her aid. She wasn't certain she could take him herself and Duncan, misguided as he was, would never forgive her even if she could. But she couldn't leave things as they were; it was time to end it.

...

Gabriel scowled as he watched the wretched woman make her petty little plans. Oh, they had only a slim chance of succeeding, even before Azrael had acquired his new allies. As it was, she would be lucky to come out of the whole thing alive, herself. Neither Winchester nor Wolfram and Hart's ex-golden child (and hadn't that just been a coup) would appreciate having their new little family ripped apart. And Gabriel found he was at least a little bit fond of both the men. He even actively liked DiNozzo, who was a man after his own heart. Besides, he owed Azrael a debt and he hated to be indebted to anyone. It always came back to bite him in the ass at the most inconvenient times.

Between one moment and the next, Gabriel allowed himself to become visible. Cassandra turned, immediately sensing him.

"You will tell me who you are and what you want," she said, power in her voice. Gabriel smirked.

"Do you want to play a game?" he asked instead. She frowned at him, clearly missing the reference entirely.

"I have no desire to play games."

"Yet you pursue Methos."

"He taunts me!" she snapped, losing her temper and whatever calm facade she might have had.

"He only taunts people he likes. Trust me, he never thinks of you," Gabriel said and her expression twisted spitefully, though he wondered if it was because she hadn't been able to forget him as easily as he seemed to forget about her. A woman scorned, indeed.

"What do you want from me?" she demanded.

"You wanted a world in which he never existed, so I'll give you one," Gabriel said and they both disappeared in a flash of light.

...

Cassandra watched as the three Horsemen cut their swathe across the known world. When they came to an encampment or village, no one was left to tell of it. It wasn't anything like when Methos had been among their number and they'd taken slaves or left survivors to tell the story because it increased their infamy and people's fear of them.

Spaces between attacks were also fewer and shorter than they had been from what she remembered. Nor were the attacks so precise. But she hardly felt that because the Horsemen were slightly less appalling with Methos among their number that it excused his actions.

"What is the point of this?" she demanded

"I told you," Gabriel said. "A world without Methos."

"It doesn't seem all that different to me," she said, folding her arms and looking away from both him and the scenes in front of them. Gabriel shrugged.

"That'll change."

...

Cassandra saw herself, young and ignorant for all that she thought she'd known about the world and suffering then. She hadn't even begun to know. It happened as it had in her memory. Alkaios ran from over the hill and behind him three, not four, riders rode hard, easily catching up to him and cutting him down. They rode into her camp, cutting down her family and friends.

"You know what we are," Kronos said, removing his mask.

"We have nothing you want," her teacher told him.

"Then you die."

Cassandra turned away from her own pleading and Kronos stabbing her. She squeezed her eyes shut when Kronos cut down her teacher, the man who'd taught her everything she'd known about healing and herbs at that point.

When she turned back Kronos was waiting for her to revive, much as Methos once had, though he had no words of warning for her this time. Instead, he raised his sword and chopped off her head.

"You honestly think I should be grateful Methos was the one to kill me?" Cassandra asked, incredulous.

Gabriel shrugged. What she believed was entirely up to her, but if death was really what she wanted, she wouldn't still be around.

...

"I skipped over a bit because quite frankly most of it was boring and he kept an astonishingly low profile, but there were fewer freed slaves in this reality and Mary Shelley died in obscurity."

"You think freeing a few slaves makes up for the hundreds he kept and the thousands he killed?"

"Don't get me wrong," Gabriel said. "I'm all for balancing the scales of karmic justice, but are you telling me you never owned slaves?"

She glared at him through narrowed eyes.

"Honey," he said. "I remember the world when you were young. You either owned slaves or you were a slave. There wasn't an in-between."

Cassandra folded her arms and looked away from him. He figured that was another point to him.

"Who is this woman?" she asked instead.

"Kristin," Gabriel told her. "I believe MacLeod tangled with her when he was younger."

"I know her by reputation," Cassandra said.

"Then you should be glad she's dead."

Cassandra became silent once more and turned to the scene Gabriel presented her; Mac watching Kristin and Richie fight after he'd failed to deal with her and she had pursued Richie ceaselessly.

Richie was good, he was Mac's student after all, but he suffered from the same flaw MacLeod did. He failed to take advantage of several openings she offered because he was hesitant about fighting a woman he'd once loved.

Kristin got the upper hand and stabbed Richie through, then drew back her sword and took his head. MacLeod sank to his knees, tears streaming down his face, as he watched Kristin take Richie's Quickening.

The moment it became quiet and she knelt on the ground, panting, MacLeod pulled himself to his feet and drew his sword. Kristin looked up at him, shock and betrayal written across her features, as he separated her head from her shoulders without so much as a challenge.

...

Cassandra watched as Duncan succumbed to Koltec's Dark Quickening, the darkness slowly overwhelming all that was good and pure in him. She watched him attack Joe. There was no Richie to attempt to appeal to his better nature or Methos to lead him to a sacred spring to purify himself. He was lost and his killing didn't limit itself to just Sean Burns.

"Duncan can overcome this," Cassandra said with confidence. Gabriel wondered how much of it was feigned.

"Perhaps," Gabriel admitted. "In time."

They both knew that this MacLeod, even if he did overcome the Dark Quickening, would never be the same again. Either way, the Champion was lost. Which was what made what came next so significant.

The scene shifted and she could see Richie with a sinister smirk as he confronted MacLeod.

"Ahriman," she said and Gabriel nodded.

MacLeod barely fought the demon, and that was just to prove he wasn't a pushover, before he began negotiating.

"I've seen enough," she said, turning her back on the sight of MacLeod shaking hands with the demon.

"Not yet," Gabriel told her. "There's one more thing you should see."

...

Gabriel showed her the war in Heaven, Castiel and Raphael facing off against each other and Castiel's declaration that he was God. He showed her the Leviathans and the destruction they wrought. He showed her the fall of the angels. All of that would have happened without Methos', and by extension Azrael's, intervention.

Gabriel definitely preferred the current reality. Not least because he was alive in it.

"You really expect me to believe one man made such a difference?" Cassandra scoffed. Gabriel shrugged.

"You believe MacLeod had the same impact."

"MacLeod is a Champion."

"So are several of the people Methos has influenced. Not to mention what he himself is."

"And what is he?" she asked, torn between disdain and curiosity.

"More than you could ever comprehend."

"So you want me to forgive him for all the wrong he has done me and many others because he happened to do a few good things while looking out for his own survival?" she snarled.

"I don't care if you do or not, but you should know that he has powerful allies and an army of angels that would march at his word," Gabriel told her. "Or mine."

"It might be worth it."

"I also know a few people who would be happy to drag your soul to hell. Whatever you have suffered, it wouldn't be anything compared to the eternity that would await you," Gabriel told her. "And you wouldn't do more than annoy him, anyway. Not even I could kill him."

That seemed to give her pause and Gabriel hoped it would be enough. She wouldn't be able to kill Azrael, but she might be able to kill Methos and Gabriel much preferred the Immortal to the angel. Methos, at least, had a sense of humour. Besides, her continued vendetta would annoy Methos and he might decide to disappear again. Gabriel didn't want to have to deal with the Host by himself. They were far too needy.

"Very well," Cassandra conceded. "I will leave him alone."

"Good," Gabriel said with a wide grin and he disappeared.

...

Methos watched Kronos post another postcard. He seemed far too pleased with himself as far as Methos was concerned, and that was never a good thing.

"Who do you keep writing to?" he asked.

"Jealous?" Kronos said with a wicked grin as he slid up to Methos and wrapped an arm around his waist. "I assure you, Brother, you have no cause to be."

"Suspicious," Methos corrected.

"No one important," Kronos said, ducking down to draw Methos into a heated kiss.

"I still don't trust you," Methos muttered, but he didn't draw away.

"That's only because you know me so well," Kronos said with a wicked smile.