Lovers' Quarrel

Methos's tear ran off of his face and landed on Kiar's cheek. In an instant her eyes flashed open and she looked up. Methos was bringing his blade down upon her and she had just enough time to grab his hands to block his swing. "Just what the Hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded of him. Methos didn't answer. He just yanked his hands out of her grasp and backed up a few steps. Kiar leapt from the bed and dove for her sword, but Methos blocked her and put his blade to her throat. Kiar instinctively backed away and put her hands up. "Is this how you really want to take my head, my Love?"

"Win if you can, lose if you must, but always cheat," replied Methos.

"Words to live by," said Kiar. "Can I at least put some clothes on before you kill me?"

A wry, smartass grin crossed Methos's face. "Actually," he said. "I rather fancy the thought of keeping you naked."

"Pig," she spat.

"Chivalry is dead, Love," he said to mock her.

"Are you doing this because you know you cannot beat me?" snapped Kiar.

"But you already are beaten, Love," said Methos, his voice still holding an air of superiority. "History has always been written by the victors. No one will remember or care if your head isn't taken in a duel. They will care when there is only One."

A fire lit in Methos's eyes when he spoke his words. Kiar recognized it as the fire he once held as one of the Horsemen. She smiled, as she knew that while that fire made him more of a warrior, it also made him more susceptible to mistakes.

"Then this is how it must be," she said. "After all, we both know that you were never a match for me even when I was your pupil. I cannot blame you for taking me down the easy way."

The same urge that Methos had had at the church to backhand her resurfaced. However, this time he didn't hold back and he swung his blade at her head. Kiar dodged him easily and punched him in the side of the head to knock him off-balance. Then she dove for her sword and drew it to face him. Methos had recovered from her punch and turned to meet her. He swung at her again and when she blocked him, he kicked her in the ribs. She doubled up and Methos once again swung for her head. Kiar brought her blade up to block him and then punched him directly in the groin. Methos gave a low grunt and collapsed to his knees. Kiar straightened up and walked behind him. She raised her blade above her head with the intent of taking his head. Methos remained where he was, waiting for the end. Kiar hesitated. She couldn't bring herself to kill him. "Get out," she hissed at him. "Next time we meet I will not spare your head."

Methos barely was able to get to his feet. He staggered about for a bit, then he slowly turned to face her with his back to the window. A look of anger shone clearly on his face. He raised his blade to continue his attack, but Kiar just kicked him in the chest with a speed that defied reason and sent him crashing out through the window and onto the pavement below. Dawson awoke from his slumber with a start to see Methos land. He got out of the car to move to his friend's side. Methos wasn't moving. Dawson looked up at Kiar's window and saw her staring down at the both of them. Dawson checked Methos for a pulse and didn't feel any. Then Methos awoke with a great start of pain and choked. "You okay?" Dawson asked.

"Women," Methos gasped. "Can't live with them. Help me to my feet."

To be continued…