The trick, Methos had learned, to entering (or, in this case, leaving) a supposedly secured area is to act as if you belonged there. Walk with purpose, and most people wouldn't even give you a second thought, let alone actually challenge your presence. So, while Amanda was distracting Daniel Jackson at back door with the imposter body at the hearse, Methos simply walked right out the front. True to human nature, the morgue staff all assumed, quite wrongly, that he was a visitor there to identify a decedent. None of them even noticed that one of their own customers had got up and left. Even if, against all odds, one of them had recognized him as the unfortunate car accident victim from that morning, he or she would have dismissed the notion as utterly ludicrous and decided that another cup of coffee was in order.

Ah, human nature. How he loved it.

After that, he drove away in Amanda's car. He had stashed his dagger and money cache in the car at the same time they had retrieved his clothes from the motel room. Unfortunately, he had been forced to leave behind the rest of his belongings, so as to not arouse suspicion prior to his spectacular staged demise. But the money would be more than enough to tide him over until he could start his new life. First, however, he had a call to make.

He purchased a disposable mobile phone from a local shop. His own phone was, of course, still in his wrecked car, and much may the American military enjoy listening to sounds of heavy machinery before the vehicle was crushed for scrap. Peevishly, he hoped their bugs were expensive. With a heavy sigh, he sat down on an unoccupied park bench and dialed a familiar number.

It rang only twice before it was picked up. "Hello?"

"What, no time for pleasantries? Just 'hello'? What is this world coming to?" Methos drawled into the phone.

He could practically hear the eyeroll, even over the phone line. "Hello, Old Man. It's been a while. You know how much I love to hear from you. Say, how've you been? Avoided any challenges lately?"

"Yes, now there's the Duncan MacLeod I remember. I just thought you and Joe should know that Adam Pierson died in a tragic car accident this morning. Oh, and by the way, Amanda's here, and we're going to be hunting down a would-be Lorca once she throws off an archaeologist who showed an inordinate interest in me by having his U.S. military employers kidnap me last night!" His tone was light, but his words and their implications were anything but.

There was a long pause on the other end. "Maybe you should start from the beginning. If you can remember when it is," the Highlander said finally.

"Oh, you're hilarious, you are," Methos retorted, but threw his mind back to the previous day. "There was something of a case of mistaken identity..."

~o0o~

Daniel didn't normally frequent bars. That sort of thing generally wasn't his idea of fun. When he drank, it was usually at a friend's house, partly because they could be relied upon to make sure he got back to his apartment in one piece. His low alcohol tolerance was practically legendary at the SGC, much to his annoyance. There was one story about oranges and beer bottles that simply wouldn't die. So, for the most part, Daniel pretty much avoided bars.

But Amanda... she had a way of talking a man into doing anything she wanted. So it was that Daniel found himself in a bar, well into his fourth beer and totally blitzed, having started out with the completely serious intention of sharing a single drink before getting back to the SGC.

How did she do it? he wondered absently through an alcohol-induced haze. Chuckling to himself, he shook his head and dismissed the thought as completely irrelevant. Mitchell had told him about this place; he had to admit it, the beer was great.

"What's so funny, Daniel?" Amanda asked, smiling brightly.

"Nothing, it's nothing. Here's to Adam, a guy of untold depths!" He held up his glass in toast, and Amanda clinked her own. Was she on her fourth or fifth? Or was it her second? Daniel couldn't remember.

"Untold depths!" agreed Amanda as her cheeks flushed red.

"No one else like him in the world."

Amanda gesticulated with her glass, nodding forcefully. "Now, that's true. Not a soul like him out there."

Daniel paused, his eyes unfocused and lids drooping slightly. Something was nagging at the back of his mind. He felt like he was forgetting something. Something important, something to do with Dr. Lam. Ah, well. He'd probably remember it later, he shrugged finally. "Just wish I knew him better. A car accident just seems so... mundane."

"Yeah, he was the sort of guy you'd expect to, I don't know, get thrown into a tar pit, or get hit by space junk, or be mauled by a hippo. It's so unfair!" Amanda exclaimed mournfully.

"When we ran into each other yesterday, I thought he was someone else," Daniel remarked in detached amusement. "Funny thing is, the guy I thought he was is dead. Well, was already dead. I'm telling you, though, the resemblance was incredible, to say the least."

Amanda grinned widely, showing her remarkably even, white teeth. "He has that effect on people. He's got one of those faces that leaves people asking 'Don't I know you from somewhere?'. Drove him absolutely nuts."

Daniel chuckled wryly before polishing off his beer. "I used to get that sometimes before I came here. There was this one time, I was up in some city in Washington State, I don't even remember why, and this guy was totally convinced that my name was Jesse. It took forever to get it across that I wasn't who he thought I was." He absently glanced at his watch and was surprised at the hour. "Woah, I need to be getting home..." There was a briefing with SG-2 tomorrow... something about Ancient ruins... The room seemed to spin a bit as he stood up. Amanda quickly moved to his side and threw his arm over her shoulder to support him. "You're a lot stronger than you look," Daniel observed as she guided him towards the door.

"I get that a lot!" she replied cheekily as she pulled his car keys out of his pocket.