Not even going to apologize for the delay. Unacceptable all around. So quit flinging your rotten veggies and you may pm me every day AriaJack but it twill not be from revenge! For here is the dreaded update of doom for which you have been waiting! MUA HA HA HA. This ones mostly chit chat, more action later.

Yeah okay, not more creeper laugh. Time for stories.


Wyn slid gracefully into the cracked red vinyl booth and moaned with pleasure.

"Oh my god, can you smell that coffee?" She said with eyes half-closed and a wide grin on her face.

Methos groaned and clunked into the opposite side of the booth with a weary sigh.

"Coffee sounds wonderful." He closed his eyes and leaned back in the booth. He heard the waitress approach and sat up straighter. The diner had just opened and there were only a few early birds drifting in so they didn't have to wait for service.

Wyn perked up instantly when the Waitress drew near. She grinned broadly but, Methos noted, kept her eyes down on the menu. He imagined those golden hued eyes would not have gone over well, especially not at a time like this when Mutants were far from loved. But was she a mutant? His brow furrowed from frustration and he shook his head. Soon he would get his answers, hopefully.

Wyn played the slightly confused customer to explain her continued attention to the cloudy plastic menu sheet.

"We'll both have Coffee and I will have uh… the Deluxe breakfast with hash-browns and do you guys serve fries this early?"

The waitress, blissfully unfazed indicated that they did indeed sell fries this early.

Wyn grinned wider, if that was possible, "Then I want two large orders of French fries."

Jotting down the order quickly the lady turned to Methos who had not even glanced at his menu, "I will have the same."

With a tired grin and a nod the Waitress moved with infinite slowness out of hearing range. Methos was about to die of curiousity.

"Answers." He said simply, settling further into the vinyl booth and crossing his arms. He affected a determined expression which he felt fit with his current mood.

"Coffee first."

"No." He said forcibly. "Now."

Wyn sighed and settled back into the booth, mirroring his posture.

"I do owe you. So, shoot."

"Are you a mutant?"

Wyn snorted and shook her head. "Mutants are a flash in the pan. They are an unsustainable evolutionary leap. Can you imagine a planet of superhumans ever being at peace? It would always be a game of who has the most powerful on their side. Rather like mutually assured destruction but without the bombs. Well, unless a mutant could manifest bombs but that's beside the point. No, I am much older than all that."

"Then what?"

"I guess," Wyn leaned forward and put her elbows on the table, "the closest name would be a lycanthrope."

Methos raised an eye incredulously, "You are a werewolf?"

"I really hate that word."

Methos laughed softly. "Here I thought you would actually answer my questions."

Wyn's gaze hardened, " I did."

"A werewolf? Come on Wyn. I wasn't born yesterday, if anyone would know about werewolves, it would be me."

"But you do know about them, everyone does. Every culture has a legend about them and every myth is a truth twisted by time."

"No, its impossible."

"The creatures in your stories are impossible. Shape-changing is just impractical really not to mention the whole where-does-the-extra-mass come from thing. Don't even get me started on the Hulk, do you have any idea how much Bruce must weigh?"

"Wyn…" Methos brought her back to the moment.

"At any rate, I don't go all 'argh'" she pretended to growl and hooked her fingers to emphasize the point, "at a full moon and turn into a wolf. Although there is a certain amount of truth to the myth. The uh… boundries between my human self and my beast are weaker at night."

"Well that's comforting," Methos muttered sarcastically.

"Look, it makes sense. Average humans are pathetic when it comes to defense. Where is survival of the fittest in blunt teeth and nails? It makes sense that once there were people suited to be hunters. Stronger, faster, stronger senses, sharper teeth and nails, faster healing… It makes sense that, at least in the beginning, people like me were the best adapted to survive, the result of a mutation much like whats happening now but more stable, able to be passed on."

"So in a way, you are a mutant." Methos muttered, sniffing air suspiciously. How could it smell burned when it had just been brewed?

"This current leap in evolution will probably result in people like me, yes. The best adapted will stick around to become legends for the future."

"I was there before farming was invented and if humans had been werewolves. I think I would remember."

"Oh so, you don't believe that I am from a race of hunters but I am supposed to believe that you are immortal?"

"No, that just slipped out, " Methos mentally cursed himself, "but the point is, you can't exist."

They both paused in their conversation while the Waitress brought their coffee.

Wyn picked hers up reverently and inhaled the steam rising from the top.

"Oh. My. God. I Love Coffee."

Methos was more sedate in his reaction and merely hooked a finger in the handle and slid the cup closer, still incredulous.

"You wouldn't happen to be related to Wolverine would you?" He asked quietly, "Not that I believe you…"

Wyn laughed and took a delicate sip from her coffee cup. Her eyes rolled in pleasure. "If that's who I think then I would have to say close, but no. Even we don't claim him."

"So you are a werewolf huh?"

"I really hate that word, why don't you try Hunter instead."

"A Hunter?"

"An Immortal?"

Methos shrugged, "What can I say, sometimes the good things never die."

"Like a cockroach." She intoned, then started giggling.

"What?"

"Nothing, I'm sorry… its just…you? Immortal?"

"Please don't make me stab myself, I really hate doing that. It's so cliché"

"I promise not to make you stab yourself."

"Thank you."

"Just don't make me do anything ridiculous."

"Like tie yourself to the bed and growl at me all night?" Methos asked innocently.

"Yes," Wyn paused, wrapping her hand around the coffee mug, "that."

"Yes, that."

"I suppose I owe you more than I thought." Wyn sighed, "Until yesterday I was a… guest of a rather unscrupulous organization. They primarily capture mutants and study how their powers work, seek to recreate them, you get the idea. Its your typical story really." Wyn paused to sip her coffee. "How I ended up there is a really odd story actually. You see others of my kind…"

"There are other werewolves?" Methos asked, still incredulous.

"Really hate that word. And yes, now shut up unless you don't want me to continue."

Methos mimed buttoning his lips.

"All of my kind is connected. Its sort of like a constant whirlwind of thoughts and ideas in your head. Strong thoughts stand out more, like a cry for help or an urgent question. We use it to stay in contact and support each other when the beast gets too strong, to remain in control." Wyn paused as the waitress brough their orders then continued, munching on fries. "I heard a cry for help and I acted on it. The people who captured me were holding a mutant who just happened to be… broadcasting on my frequency. I broke in but I was too late to save her. In my surprise at not finding another like me I was taken off guard and when I woke up…" Wyn stopped.

"What happened?" Methos asked, coffee and food unnoticed. He leaned forward and gently touched the back of Wyn's hand where it rested on the table. She flinched and gave a soft smile. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "When I woke up I was alone. Completely and utterly. For the first time in centuries I was alone in my own head. I…couldn't take it. I still can't hear them and what they did to me there, in that place, it weakened the part of me that's human. I'm… slipping away."

Methos pushed her coffee towards her and wrapped her fingers around it. She didn't respond but continued to speak.

"As I told you, the boundries between me and my beast are weaker at night. I can't fight it anymore. "

"Maybe whatever they did will wear off in time." Methos added, making an attempt at reassurance.

"I had hoped so as well but anything like a drug should have worn off by now. And its more than just my mental link, I am weaker, slower still and I shouldn't be."

Methos sensed that a change of subject was in order. "We will find the answer, don't worry. In the meantime, eat something." Methos picked up his still full coffee cup and gestured to the waitress for a refill. "Just leave the pot." He told the waitress when she arrived and the lady obliged, smacking approvingly on her gum.

"I always said a man who likes coffee is a keeper." The older lady intoned cheerfully, winking at Wyn.

Wyn gurgled mild agreement, her mouth full of french fries.

"So when were french fries invented o immortal warrior?" Wyn asked after the waitress had moved on with just a hint of lingering sorrow.

"How should I know?" Methos asked, taking a healthy bite of his own fry order.

"I thought all immortals ended up being a part of every glorious event in history. Just so they can flash back on it dramatically when involoved in any similar life experience."

"Hardly." Methos snorted, "looking back I think I have spent most of eternity either running away or getting drunk."

"Some life, but a long one I suppose. How long did you say?" Wyn sat back from her now empty plates and sipped her coffee. Methos marveled at the shear amount of resources the small woman before him had just consumed.

"I didn't actually. But about 5000 years."

It was Wyn's turn to snort. "I've only hit about 500 myself."

"Are you immortal then?" Methos asked, confused.

"No, just long lived. 5 eons is a bit more than I can manage I am afraid."

"You believe me then." Methos asked, casually.

"You believe me?"

Methos thought about that for a moment. It would stand to reason that in the course of his not unimpressive number of years he would have run into or at least heard rumors of a group of people unlike other humans. But he had hadn't he? All those myths of people turning into animals. Every culture had them. Sometimes they were monsters, sometimes great spirits or gods. It had simply just never occurred to him that those myths would have had to start somewhere. If he could be a guy from the stone age couldn't she be a werewolf?

"Yes." He said simply.

"Good. Now that the unpleasant basics are out of the way we can get on to the good stuff."

"Like what?"

"First weapons, then answers, then revenge" Wyn downed the rest of her coffee then took a wad of cash out of her pocket, the last of their funds after the night at the hotel.

"I like swords." Methos added helpfully.