Chapter 61
Methos had long since tired of this seemingly endless path trying to find Frans Heiden, but since he'd had no luck contacting MacLeod he didn't know what other avenues to follow. Besides, in his gut he felt like if they hadn't killed Joe or Claudia yet, there was a reason. He only wished he still had his ins with the Watchers. Aside from breaking into their computer system, Joe had been his primary contact remaining. He suspected they were somehow behind the abduction.
He'd taken an 8 hour break and checked into a hotel for some much needed rest, drinking himself into slumber when his mind wouldn't cooperate. It had been impossible not to notice the date, March 6th. Cassie was 3 months old today. His insides ached just thinking about the precious child. As much as he'd tried to hate Beth for leaving him the way she did, he couldn't feel anything but love for the baby. It was probably the only reason he had a shred of humanity left in his body. He wondered if it hadn't been for the tie he could not deny with Cassie if he would have even cared what happened to Joe or Claudia. The last thing he remembered before passing out on the bed was a vision of Beth as she held Cassie to her breast. It was a memory of one of those quiet, private moments they'd shared as a family. A moment shared before they'd left Seacouver and everything fell apart.
His dreams transported him back to that time and place for the first time in weeks. He hadn't allowed these thoughts into his mind before, but tonight they would not be suppressed.
"I love you Adam." Beth's voice broke through his slumber as her hands slipped around his neck and her body molded against his.
In his dream he simply held her and looked down into her face, almost fearing that if he moved or spoke she would disappear. And he didn't want her to disappear. He didn't want to feel this way, but he needed her. He needed her like he needed air. In the dream it was all so clear.
"Adam what's wrong?" Beth asked as she reached up to stroke his cheek. He leaned into her touch but still dared not break the moment. "Why won't you hold me tighter? Why won't you tell me you love me?"
He watched as her hand raised to the place where the filigree locket should have been laying just below the hollow of her throat, and as her eyes widened in shock and then filled with tears of sadness. "Oh my God, no. I've lost it." He heard her whisper as she shook her head in disbelief. "I've lost your heart."
The vision started to fade, and at the last second Methos tightened his grip on her. But even as he held her closer, her presence filtered through his grasp like sand and she was gone.
He awoke to empty arms, an empty bed, and an ache he had refused to let himself feel. "Damn her." He threw a bottle from the night stand and watched it crash into a million pieces against the wall. In the dream, Beth thought she'd lost his heart, but in truth he knew that no matter how far he pushed her away, she still had it. Like it or not, she was it's keeper, which meant Methos was doomed to spend the rest of his life living with only the painful hole where it had once beaten so strongly.
Sitting on the side of the bed in the glow of the moon, Methos steeled himself from the memory of Beth's warmth and love. It was the only way he knew to survive. Instead he began to think about the thing that had filled his past few days. "I really shouldn't be wasting my time on this." He told himself, knowing that the time he'd taken away from pursuit of the game had softened him and made him vulnerable to these feelings again.
Walking across the room and ignoring the shards of glass that cut deeply into the bottoms of his feet as he strode to the shower, Methos let the cold water chill his body in an attempt to chill his heart. When he emerged, he had come to a decision. If he didn't locate this Frans Heiden or get any closer to finding Joe and Claudia by tonight, then he was done. He'd forget he'd ever seen or heard anything and be done with it all. He would resume his hunt for the prize.
Methos dressed, checked MacLeod's cell phone one more time and even went a step further. He left a message at the dojo in case the Highlander thought to check there. "If he wants to pursue this further he can call me. If not . well I've done all I can."
He'd booked a rental car and began what he thought would be his final day of the search. The sun wouldn't be coming up for another 3 hours, but Methos didn't want to sit and wait. The latest address was on the west side of Munich and at this hour he didn't have to worry about traffic.
Taking a large sip of his coffee as he pulled up to the curb, waiting for an hour when he could be told once again that the man he was looking for had moved on.
Methos finished the coffee and tossed the cup into the floorboard as he moved the mirror at an angle so he could see the building entrance behind him and the road in front. He decided the best thing he could do at this point was to sit and wait.
For over an hour he sat in his car, pretending to read a copy of the newspaper he'd picked up in the hotel lobby. "Could time pass any slower?" he thought to himself as he turned the page and smoothed it as he kept his eye on the mirror.
It didn't take long for his boredom to fade when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, alerting him to the presence of another immortal. The presence was approaching quickly, and Methos barely had time to slide out of the car and draw his sword before he came face to face with a man whose anger and unpleasant disposition seemed to rival his own.
"Was machen Sie hier?" the man insisted on knowing why Methos was there.
Wondering if he hadn't noticed the presence sooner because of the hangover or because he'd let his psyche be softened by the dreams he'd had only a few hours before, Methos knew there was only one way to get himself back on track.
Raising his sword and moving it to and fro in a strategic rhythm, Methos gave the man his answer. "Ich bin hier für Ihren Kopf." His search for Frans Heiden forgotten, he was here for the man's head.
The glint of the man's teeth in the street lamp let Methos know that he wouldn't have to chase this competitor. No, this immortal was just as pleased to be issued a challenge as Methos was to give it.
"Wir werden diesen einigen Ort privater nehmen." Methos heard the man say in a gutteral tone. That suited Methos fine because he had no desire to play this out on the street. Remaining alert to the prospect of a trap, he followed across the street and down an alley. Once they were shielded from curious eyes, the man turned and jabbed in an attempt to catch Methos off guard.
But Methos, even with a bloody hangover, was never off his guard when it came to a challenge. He sprang back on the tips of his toes and then turned to fend off the second blow with the broad side of his sword.
"Ich werde Sie lehren, den Schlaf eines Mannes zu stören." His opponent promised as he continued to attack.
"Oh dear, did I disturb your beauty rest?" Methos taunted the man who obviously understood his words. His face reddened and his strokes became even more sloppy as his anger rose.
"That's it." Methos thought to himself as he let his opponent back him up. "Just keep it up . a little longer . and I'll ."
"Strike when you least expect it." He finished his thoughts out loud as his blade turned from blocking an unfortunately misplaced swipe, to an upsweep that ripped through his opponent's lower body like a knife through butter.
Methos grinned as his eyes met those that could not believe what had just happened.
"Sie schmutzig bastard." The man spat his words up in blood as he hit his knees.
"The truth hurts doesn't it?" Methos replied as he swiped his blade back, cleanly relieving the body of it's head.
He stepped back and braced himself against the wall as the force of the immortal's quickening began to explode through him. Flashes of images raced through his mind as he was literally pinned against the brick. And then as he knew it would, the feel of a soft hand grasping his own made it's way into his mind. This sensation he knew was destined to be the thorn in his flesh. "But if I am to win the prize, I'll endure it." His words gritted through his teeth as another bolt of energy sprung from the ground and electrified him.
Falling onto his hands and knees when it was all over, Methos gasped for breath and waited for his strength to be restored. And then as the first light of dawn began to creep into the alley where he sat clutching his sword against the brick, Methos struggled to his feet and then staggered back to the car.
He had decided in those long moments of restoration that his search for Claudia and Joe was over. He was going to focus on his own destiny. It was all going to be about the prize. He was comfortable with his decision and knew it would serve him well. It served him very well for the length of time it took Methos to get back in the car and begin to turn the key. It served him well until he noticed the plates on the car parked just in front of him. It served him well until he heard voices and had to move quickly into the floorboard so he would not be seen by the two men who came out of the building behind him.
When Methos heard the ignition start on the car he had been searching for almost a week to find, he waited a few more seconds before sitting back up behind the wheel. He watched the taillights as they moved up the street and then turned left.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Methos turned the key, chiding himself even as he followed the path that had been laid out ahead of him.
Methos had long since tired of this seemingly endless path trying to find Frans Heiden, but since he'd had no luck contacting MacLeod he didn't know what other avenues to follow. Besides, in his gut he felt like if they hadn't killed Joe or Claudia yet, there was a reason. He only wished he still had his ins with the Watchers. Aside from breaking into their computer system, Joe had been his primary contact remaining. He suspected they were somehow behind the abduction.
He'd taken an 8 hour break and checked into a hotel for some much needed rest, drinking himself into slumber when his mind wouldn't cooperate. It had been impossible not to notice the date, March 6th. Cassie was 3 months old today. His insides ached just thinking about the precious child. As much as he'd tried to hate Beth for leaving him the way she did, he couldn't feel anything but love for the baby. It was probably the only reason he had a shred of humanity left in his body. He wondered if it hadn't been for the tie he could not deny with Cassie if he would have even cared what happened to Joe or Claudia. The last thing he remembered before passing out on the bed was a vision of Beth as she held Cassie to her breast. It was a memory of one of those quiet, private moments they'd shared as a family. A moment shared before they'd left Seacouver and everything fell apart.
His dreams transported him back to that time and place for the first time in weeks. He hadn't allowed these thoughts into his mind before, but tonight they would not be suppressed.
"I love you Adam." Beth's voice broke through his slumber as her hands slipped around his neck and her body molded against his.
In his dream he simply held her and looked down into her face, almost fearing that if he moved or spoke she would disappear. And he didn't want her to disappear. He didn't want to feel this way, but he needed her. He needed her like he needed air. In the dream it was all so clear.
"Adam what's wrong?" Beth asked as she reached up to stroke his cheek. He leaned into her touch but still dared not break the moment. "Why won't you hold me tighter? Why won't you tell me you love me?"
He watched as her hand raised to the place where the filigree locket should have been laying just below the hollow of her throat, and as her eyes widened in shock and then filled with tears of sadness. "Oh my God, no. I've lost it." He heard her whisper as she shook her head in disbelief. "I've lost your heart."
The vision started to fade, and at the last second Methos tightened his grip on her. But even as he held her closer, her presence filtered through his grasp like sand and she was gone.
He awoke to empty arms, an empty bed, and an ache he had refused to let himself feel. "Damn her." He threw a bottle from the night stand and watched it crash into a million pieces against the wall. In the dream, Beth thought she'd lost his heart, but in truth he knew that no matter how far he pushed her away, she still had it. Like it or not, she was it's keeper, which meant Methos was doomed to spend the rest of his life living with only the painful hole where it had once beaten so strongly.
Sitting on the side of the bed in the glow of the moon, Methos steeled himself from the memory of Beth's warmth and love. It was the only way he knew to survive. Instead he began to think about the thing that had filled his past few days. "I really shouldn't be wasting my time on this." He told himself, knowing that the time he'd taken away from pursuit of the game had softened him and made him vulnerable to these feelings again.
Walking across the room and ignoring the shards of glass that cut deeply into the bottoms of his feet as he strode to the shower, Methos let the cold water chill his body in an attempt to chill his heart. When he emerged, he had come to a decision. If he didn't locate this Frans Heiden or get any closer to finding Joe and Claudia by tonight, then he was done. He'd forget he'd ever seen or heard anything and be done with it all. He would resume his hunt for the prize.
Methos dressed, checked MacLeod's cell phone one more time and even went a step further. He left a message at the dojo in case the Highlander thought to check there. "If he wants to pursue this further he can call me. If not . well I've done all I can."
He'd booked a rental car and began what he thought would be his final day of the search. The sun wouldn't be coming up for another 3 hours, but Methos didn't want to sit and wait. The latest address was on the west side of Munich and at this hour he didn't have to worry about traffic.
Taking a large sip of his coffee as he pulled up to the curb, waiting for an hour when he could be told once again that the man he was looking for had moved on.
Methos finished the coffee and tossed the cup into the floorboard as he moved the mirror at an angle so he could see the building entrance behind him and the road in front. He decided the best thing he could do at this point was to sit and wait.
For over an hour he sat in his car, pretending to read a copy of the newspaper he'd picked up in the hotel lobby. "Could time pass any slower?" he thought to himself as he turned the page and smoothed it as he kept his eye on the mirror.
It didn't take long for his boredom to fade when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, alerting him to the presence of another immortal. The presence was approaching quickly, and Methos barely had time to slide out of the car and draw his sword before he came face to face with a man whose anger and unpleasant disposition seemed to rival his own.
"Was machen Sie hier?" the man insisted on knowing why Methos was there.
Wondering if he hadn't noticed the presence sooner because of the hangover or because he'd let his psyche be softened by the dreams he'd had only a few hours before, Methos knew there was only one way to get himself back on track.
Raising his sword and moving it to and fro in a strategic rhythm, Methos gave the man his answer. "Ich bin hier für Ihren Kopf." His search for Frans Heiden forgotten, he was here for the man's head.
The glint of the man's teeth in the street lamp let Methos know that he wouldn't have to chase this competitor. No, this immortal was just as pleased to be issued a challenge as Methos was to give it.
"Wir werden diesen einigen Ort privater nehmen." Methos heard the man say in a gutteral tone. That suited Methos fine because he had no desire to play this out on the street. Remaining alert to the prospect of a trap, he followed across the street and down an alley. Once they were shielded from curious eyes, the man turned and jabbed in an attempt to catch Methos off guard.
But Methos, even with a bloody hangover, was never off his guard when it came to a challenge. He sprang back on the tips of his toes and then turned to fend off the second blow with the broad side of his sword.
"Ich werde Sie lehren, den Schlaf eines Mannes zu stören." His opponent promised as he continued to attack.
"Oh dear, did I disturb your beauty rest?" Methos taunted the man who obviously understood his words. His face reddened and his strokes became even more sloppy as his anger rose.
"That's it." Methos thought to himself as he let his opponent back him up. "Just keep it up . a little longer . and I'll ."
"Strike when you least expect it." He finished his thoughts out loud as his blade turned from blocking an unfortunately misplaced swipe, to an upsweep that ripped through his opponent's lower body like a knife through butter.
Methos grinned as his eyes met those that could not believe what had just happened.
"Sie schmutzig bastard." The man spat his words up in blood as he hit his knees.
"The truth hurts doesn't it?" Methos replied as he swiped his blade back, cleanly relieving the body of it's head.
He stepped back and braced himself against the wall as the force of the immortal's quickening began to explode through him. Flashes of images raced through his mind as he was literally pinned against the brick. And then as he knew it would, the feel of a soft hand grasping his own made it's way into his mind. This sensation he knew was destined to be the thorn in his flesh. "But if I am to win the prize, I'll endure it." His words gritted through his teeth as another bolt of energy sprung from the ground and electrified him.
Falling onto his hands and knees when it was all over, Methos gasped for breath and waited for his strength to be restored. And then as the first light of dawn began to creep into the alley where he sat clutching his sword against the brick, Methos struggled to his feet and then staggered back to the car.
He had decided in those long moments of restoration that his search for Claudia and Joe was over. He was going to focus on his own destiny. It was all going to be about the prize. He was comfortable with his decision and knew it would serve him well. It served him very well for the length of time it took Methos to get back in the car and begin to turn the key. It served him well until he noticed the plates on the car parked just in front of him. It served him well until he heard voices and had to move quickly into the floorboard so he would not be seen by the two men who came out of the building behind him.
When Methos heard the ignition start on the car he had been searching for almost a week to find, he waited a few more seconds before sitting back up behind the wheel. He watched the taillights as they moved up the street and then turned left.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Methos turned the key, chiding himself even as he followed the path that had been laid out ahead of him.