Disclaimer: I do not own Methos, Majkia does own Sydney. So no stealing if you please.
Author's Note: Another chapter by the two of us. I'd like to point out something that I neglected to in the last three chapters. Adele, Julian and Ressa are original characters developed for an online writing community. Mostly we all write our own characters and they interact in stories together, then I decided to bring in the Highlander characters and this story was born out of some of Methos and Duncan's interactions with them. Actually Majkia and I decided to introduce Methos to Julian, as they are two halves to the same cynical coin. From this point on in the story though the 'friends' as reviewers have dubbed them, don't take any more part in the Methos story strand. Lol, unsurprisingly enough they all tagged along after Duncan.
It was a fairly typical lecture hall for a large university, particularly an urban university. Large, not exactly crowded since the weather was beautiful outdoors, students littered the seats behind the curved tables on all five levels.
In the pit, one Assistant Professor of History Sydney Watson was pacing as she spoke. Her hair was half out of its erstwhile neat bun, her glasses catching the lights and sending sparks round the room as she scattershot her attention from one student to another. The class was, apparently, the High Middle Ages.
"Towns, before obtaining their freedom, were under the jurisdiction of a secular or ecclesiastical overlord. Yes, Michael, make a face. But it was true. The official appointed by the overlord to rule the town was sometimes oppressive - well, all right, mostly oppressive. Although there are certainly examples of a few good ones. Complaints of the townsmen sometimes resulted in a curtailment and definition of his powers. And it was this that began the preliminary steps toward obtaining of a charter of freedom. However, such a charter was not necessarily permanent." Her voice died off as she saw movement at one of the doorways.
Adam passed by the door to her room, glancing in as he went past, it looked like he'd been peaking into every door he came by. When he saw Sydney he stopped and leaned against the doorway and smiled at her. He was wearing the same trench and pants from last night and it looked top wise he'd only changed the color of his sweater, a white loose knit instead of the heavy black one.
He knew she'd seen him. She shook her head and got back on track. "I'm not going to read to you the entire Declaration of the Powers of the Count of Toul over the City of Toul, 1069. It's in your book. Review it and we'll talk about it at our next class. Questions?"
"I have one." Methos said as he walked further into the class room, ignoring all the puzzled looks of the students as he turned to them instead of Sydney. "Would you all mind if I stole your teacher?"
"Dude!" said one young man, doused in Brut.
"Wonderful!" Methos said, turning to take Sydney's hand and steer her out of the class. "Read, review, don't fall asleep because that's just horrible studying skills children. In the meantime, we'll be going, so have a good day."
"Uhm," Sydney managed, just turning her head as he hustled her off, "Class dismissed."
Methos directed Sydney through the maze of corridors and turns without a word. It wasn't until they ended up on the campus main lawn that he stopped and turned to her.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry. But you didn't hear yourself in there." He said quickly in his own defense, hands up in front of him. "It sounded like you were torturing not only your students but yourself with that drowning. Do you even enjoy teaching that?"
"Well, not that bit specifically, obviously. But it's on the exam."
"Oh good," He said with relief which quickly melted into suspicion. "You're not going to hit me now are you?"
"Should I? It is tempting. I will if someone complains, how's that."
"Does it count if the one that smells of your least favorite perfume and a short supply of proper vocabulary complains?"
She shook her head at him. "I'd forgive you if you told him to ditch the Brut."
He smiled. "Will do, though I think that would be doing the whole world a favor." He offered his hand. "In the meantime, I was promised a lunch date, and rehearsal will be over in an hour. So we'd better hurry."
"Rehearsal?" she asked, almost running to keep up with his long strides. "Do slow down. I didn't wear my chucks today."
"An old friend is allowing us to use a rather unique luncheon spot, but I want you to meet her first. As for your feet, we only need to catch the bus there." Methos explained.
After taking the rather questionable public transportation that New York City provided, Methos had them get off at the entrance to Central Park.
"Not far from here," He said assuredly and pulled them into the modern jungle heart of the city, bouncing like an excited kid.
"Adam, are you like this all the time?" Syndey asked.
"Like what?" He asked.
"Like not ask if I might have had lunch plans and just call my class off, that like what."
"Oh." He said before stopping to look at her. "Do you have lunch plans?"
She frowned at him. "No, well, I didn't."
"Well see, and I did apologize for the thing in class. I'm not always like this, Sydney. I'm just--well, I'm excited." He admitted. "I haven't really done anything like this in a while."
She frowned harder. "Like what, exactly? Spirit someone off without a by-your-leave or ... or what?"
"No, the whole dating thing. Obviously I've forgotten some important rule, but last night you seemed to like this, like me. But if you want normal, fine, let me know. I'll take you to a fancy restaurant where you can tell me very nicely that you never want to see me again."
"Ah. And here I thought your ego was nearly the size of the first Adam's. You do keep surprising me."
Methos smiled a little. "So, what will it be? One last lunch at the Ritz..." He asked, holding out his hand. "Or come see what waits down the lane?"
"Oh, definitely see what's down the lane." She took his hand.
Methos' smile grew as he curled his fingers around hers and took her down the path. They didn't have to do much walking before the sound of swords and raised voices reached them. When they stepped out into a large clearing, the noise was revealed as a full stage set up in the middle of the park with a group of actors in costume and armed, without an audience.
"Come for the third, Laertes: you but dally. I pray you, pass with your best violence. I am afeard you make a wanton of me." One of the actors cried as he circled his opponent.
"Say you so? Come on." The other shouted back and they were clashing stage swords against one another again.
Sydney's eyes gave away her amusement. "And," she whispered to Methos," are you playing Rosencrantz or Guildenstern?"
"Funny." Methos deadpanned. "Just wait."
A few seconds into the fight, the man playing Hamlet tripped over his own feet and stumbled to the ground. Everyone rushed to help the fallen actor as a tall woman in her fifties came storming on stage.
"Chuck, I can't have you in the show this weekend if you continue to fall onto Jeremy's sword every single time! You haven't even gotten out the death line and you're already killing us!" She said, reprimanding the actor as if he were a small child. And from the look of Chuck, it was working.
Methos laughed and turned to Sydney in a low voice. "That striking young woman on stage is Helen Colter, she's been working in stage craft for most of her life as an actress and now she directs them. To the dismay of all actors involved."
"And you, Adam, have never known when to keep your mouth shut."
"I'm caught." Methos admitted, laughing as Helen made her way off the stage. "Sydney Watson, I'd like you to meet Helen Colter. Helen, this is the lovely historian I told you about."
Helen was the picture of old stage beauty, her dark hair had gone completely silver and struck up in a bun, but her green eyes were sharp and younger then most half her age. She smiled at Sydney and shook her hand. "Pleased to meet the one Adam's gone to all the trouble for."
"I'm delighted to meet you, Helen," Sydney replied smiling. "But what trouble? Surely, well, I hope no one has been put out."
"No trouble at all, Adam just likes big gestures and I was in the position to oblige him." Helen said, shooting Methos a look. "Of course, he did make me a promise in return."
Methos smiled. "I did and I have delivered." He announced pulling two tickets from his pocket. "Box seats to La Boheme, and I talked to Anton, they'll be expecting you backstage afterwards so don't let Tony drag you off."
Helen smiled at Methos in a way that made her look younger and a shadow of emotion passed over her eyes as she kissed his cheek.
"You're a doll, Adam. I'll get everyone packed up and it's all yours." Helen said before she turned and commenced shouting orders at her crew.
Sydney stood looking after Helen. "What are you up to, Adam?"
Methos sighed dramatically. "You're obviously unaware of what the word surprise means. Meaning I know something you don't and you're not allowed to pester me about it." He said. "But...since you're so persistent..."
He nodded towards the stage, and while he'd kept her attention for the moment the actors had finished dressing the stage for the play and also a picnic blanket near one of the plush settee's that had been dragged on from off stage. The cast and crew was nowhere to be seen, having had too much practice with quick set changes to be caught.
Sydney looked around, her eyes lighting up. Then she turned back to Adam. "And do I get to see you in tights too?"
"Well I do remember there being talk of not embarrassing you, so I only brought everything else. But next time I'll even wear the pointed shoes and cup if you're nice to me." He teased.
"Ah, an unfair incentive, sir. For shame. Now I shall have to be on my best behavior." She pulled a moue. "No more blasphemy."
"I don't think that's a fair trade, Miss Watson. If you behave what fun am I supposed to have?" He asked, escorting her onto the stage where he presented the settee for her seat.
She allowed him to seat her, laughing up at him.
"I do hope you're laughing with me and not at me. Because I like the view from here and it would be a shame to hurt my feelings now that you have me at your mercy." Methos said as he sat on the blanket by the settee.
She shook her head. "Not at you. I'm just.. rather overwhelmed. And, I confess, rather at a loss for words, as difficult as that is to believe."
Methos smiled. "Well, there's only one thing to do then." He said, picking up a bottle of champagne that had already been opened and poured her a glass. "We take advantage of the lovely things before us, and enjoy the weather while we can."
She took the glass he handed her and once they'd clinked glasses drank. "I'm unused to having men sit at my feet. Well, men, as opposed to Freshmen, if you take my meaning."
"That's a pity. You know they used to shower devote worship on the vestal virgins of Rome, the temple high priestesses. Consider this my upholding of a time honored tradition." Methos said casually, holding up a plate. "Sandwich?"
"Thank you," she said, taking it. "As adorable as the analogy is, I'm afraid it fails in one crucial detail. Well, two, actually," she added thoughtfully as she took a bite of her sandwich.
"You're not Roman?" He asked in surprise.
"Good point. Three then," she replied laughing.
"All right. Still, three points that do not negate my metaphor and will not stop me. So we shall allow the worship to continue and in return, you will answer a few questions." Methos said as he put a bundle of grapes on her plate.
"I think you should feed them to me if you expect answers," she replied.
Methos bowed his head to hide the smile on his face. When he looked up at her it had become a smirk.
"All right." He said and moved to sit beside her on the settee. Moving the plate from her hands to his lap, he plucked a grape from the bundle and held it to her lips.
She opened her lips and took the grape.
Methos watched it disappear into her mouth and had to shake himself before plucking another one.
"Question number one, what did you want to be before you became a historian?"
She eyed him as she chewed the grape. She swallowed then said, "An astronomer."
He pushed another one against her lips.
"Do you ever feel the need to experiment?" He asked, this time accompanied by a sly grin.
She chewed again, her eyes on him. After she swallowed she said, "With regard to certain things, I do."
"Now that's cheating." Methos complained.
"How so?" she asked, her lips twitching.
Methos opened his mouth, then realizing he'd have to come out and say what he meant in literal terms finally let out a frustrated sigh and just gave her another grape.
"What's your example of a perfect day?" He asked.
She ate her grape as she considered the question. "A day with no tears."
He frowned, and withheld the grape this time. "Are you getting tired of eating grapes?'
"That depends what other options you give me."
He chuckled before presenting another grape. "One more then."
"Go for it," she said as she took the grape.
He held her gaze this time when he asked.
"Can I kiss you?"
"Only if I get to kiss you back."
"Deal." He said quietly and let his thumb brush over her bottom lip. Bracing himself on the settee he leaned over and brushed his lips against hers, his eyes open to test her reaction.
Her eyes closed and her bottom lip trembled a bit then she stretched toward him, kissing him hesitantly at first, as if she were doing her own testing.
Methos took in a sharp breath and finally covered her mouth with his as his eyes closed. Fingertips stroking her cheek as he just savored the feel of her lips and the hairs breath of space between their bodies.
She reached up and wrapped an arm around his neck pulling him closer yet.
He let himself go then, deepening the kiss, letting his fingers tangle in her hair. His tongue played across her bottom lip, asking for entrance.
Her breathing changed, getting more ragged and she opened her lips for him her own tongue meeting his. Then suddenly she was pushing on his chest and breaking the kiss. "Wait," she said, her voice rough and her breathing still ragged.
Methos let himself be pushed away and nodded. "Right, okay. Too fast."
She took a couple of deep breaths then said, "Well, we are on stage. I suddenly wondered if we had an audience."
Methos laughed, his voice thick from the kiss. "Right...that is a good reason to stop, isn't it? Unless you're an exhibitionist, that is."
"Yes, well, I'm not," she said, trying to do something with her hair that had now gotten entirely out of control of the pins that were supposed to be holding it up. "It was, however, a very nice kiss."
Methos smiled and moved her hands out of the way so he could fix the damage he'd inflicted to her hair. "Ditto."
She sat still as he arranged her hair, watching him. "You're a puzzle," she finally said.
Methos raised an eyebrow. "Is that good or bad?"
"I'm trying to decide. Have you any guidance for me?"
He smiled, pushing the last pin back in place. "I've been a good guy for a long time. And I've spent a long time redeeming the wrongs I have done. You can also find my name in the public records to make sure I'm not a serial killer."
"Well, that's a relief to know. You'll find I've been arrested twice, should you look, so I've hardly any room to claim moral superiority."
"I think I can overlook it."
"Good. You're most kind. It's been lovely, Adam. Despite my sudden fear of Brut drenched pimply teens watching us."
"We can always do it again, maybe dinner this time?" Methos asked hopefully.
"Yes. I'd like that, Adam." Her voice was warm and there was no doubt she meant it.
He smiled and flicked her nose.
"I'll call you." He said. "But if you don't go now you're going to help me clean all this up, and that goes against my masterful plan."
She laughed. "I'd love to help. Really. But I think perhaps I'd best get back and see if I still have a job." She let him pull her upright and then she smiled. She kissed his cheek quickly and hurried off.
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