Chapter 9
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"I always wanted to fly." Talia said, her left hand resting on the steering wheel. The others had already piled out of the vehicle.
Duncan looked back at her incredulously.
"Well, I did." She crossed her arms defensively and looked up to watch Ororo circle the villa and dip behind the other side. 'Not bloody fair.' Talia smirked.
Nadya proceeded ahead of the others into the house. Duncan called after her but she kept moving. Now was not the time.
Piotr stuck his hands into his pockets, his shoulders heaving a sigh as he followed after the pair.
Talia ran a hand up to her hair and pulled the pins out, letting it fall down past her shoulders. When she looked up, she saw Logan waiting at the door. "He looks rather mad...oh...right...Methos didn't come back with us…bet he thinks he is going to leave....oh, great, he's coming over...strange, he doesn't really walk...he strides...or stalks...you always had a thing for predators...you should know better, behaving like a pre-adolescent....stop talking to yourself!" Talia shook her head.
"Where is he?" Logan put one hand up on the roof of the SUV. He was doing his best to be intimidating.
Talia looked in the back seat…then bent down and looked under her seat...then opened the glove compartment. "Spontaneous combustion," she concluded when she looked back up, "The only possible explanation." Then, she batted her eyes sweetly. "May I leave the car now...please?"
"I asked you a question." Logan laced anger into his voice.
Talia sighed. "And I did not give you an answer." She met his glare.
"I've got all the time in the world." He put both arms up on the roof and rested his head on them, still glaring at her.
Talia rolled down the window the rest of the way. "Perhaps you do. I know I do. But a lot of the others inside don't, so..." Talia knelt on the seat and put her face up into Logan's.
He jerked his head back reflexively at the quick motion and Talia, having gotten room to maneuver, stuck the upper part of her torso out the window. She paused, then placed a hand on his shoulder to steady herself and moved the rest of her body out through the window.
Logan still had his hands planted on the roof. As she planted both feet on the ground, he grabbed her by the upper arms and held her from moving any farther.
"He's behind you."
Logan balked but a moment after his hearing picked up the pounding of horse's hooves in the distance. "How did you know?"
"We can sense each other coming...a suffocating presence all around you...chills down the back of the spine...someone walking over your grave. Like that." Talia smiled at him mischievously and leaned in closer. "It gets stronger with age...what was wrong earlier?" She changed subject mid-sentence, catching him off-guard.
"Nothing." His hands released her and he walked over to the side of the driveway where there was a view of the hillside. His eyes focused on the direction of the hoof beats and a moment later he saw the horse and rider break over the top at full gallop.
Methos felt the pounding of the Shadowfax's hooves on the ground under him. Memories wanted to surface, far to many memories, but he kept them at bay. Instead he focused on absorbing this memory into his mind. The trees as they raced by. The trembling in his legs. The feeling of the horse's powerful muscles moving under him. And, of course, the saddle made all the difference in the world. Part of his mind picked up on Talia's Quickening and he nudged Shadowfax towards it.
The horse was more than happy to comply; this rider was one of the better ones. Completely at ease. He barely even held onto the reins. They crested the hill that the villa was built on, charging at full gallop towards Talia...
'...and the Wolverine...just great!' Methos leaned back in the saddle, causing Shadowfax to skid to a stop, the horse pulling back and his front hooves leaving the ground. Methos leaned forward into the motion then back as they came back down. He then looked to Logan.
"Back again in the same day?" Logan crossed his arms over his chest, and Methos responded with a nod and a smirk.
Then he held out a hand to Talia. She smiled up at him and allowed herself to be pulled up behind him. Methos caught the narrowing of the other man's eyes.
'So that's how it is.' Methos smiled again, purposefully directing it to irk Logan; then they took off at a light canter to the stable.
Logan watched till they rounded the villa and dropped out of view. Then his hand shot out and slammed into a nearby tree! He turned and stalked back to the villa. The tree started to bleed, three small trails of sap coursing down its bark by the time the door slammed shut behind the mutant.
.....................................................................................................................................................................................
Nadya strode through the halls of the grand villa, just wanting to be alone and shunning any room with people in it. As she entered the atrium at the back of the house, the coolness of the room washed over her and she closed her eyes for a moment.
"Are you alright?" A gentle voice with the lull of Britain laced on its edges. The whir of mechanical wheels echoed through the marble room.
Nadya didn't answer; she didn't want to. She just stepped further on into the atrium, trying to give him a hint.
"Why do you stay with them, Nadya?" The Professor wasn't giving up. He wanted to know her story, why she was here. He understood Joe Dawson's position, but hers...? What part did she play?
"Why do you stay with THEM, Professor?" she turned the question back on him.
"Because they are my students, my...children." Professor Xavier replied quietly.
Nadya half turned. "These Immortals are the only family I have."
"But surely you have friends who are not Immortal?"
"Surely you have friends who are not mutants." It wasn't a game; it was an honest reckoning of situations.
"If you want to know me so badly, search me. Probe my thoughts, if you have a 'mind' to!"
"I won't..."
"...abuse your powers, I know. It's not abuse if I give you permission, is it?" she questioned, moving towards him slowly.
This gave the Professor pause.
.......................................................................................................................................................................................
Shadowfax opened his mouth and let the bridle bit drop from his jaws, shaking his head as Methos patted his neck.
"She'll want to groom him, I'm sure." Talia looked down from the horse's back where she still sat.
Methos shook his head vaguely, still running his hand over the white animal's neck. "I'll do it." He wanted to say something to Talia, to ask if she noticed...but he knew she had.
"Why did she run away?" he asked a different question instead.
Talia shrugged. "She didn't say. I didn't ask." She shifted her weight on the horse's back. "We all have secrets, Methos. We all have demons. So does Nadya."
Methos shook his head again, taking up a dandy brush and beginning to slowly brush Shadowfax's mane. The horse flinched, unused to those other than the small hands of his mistress, but he felt no danger in Methos' touch and so relaxed.
"She's so young...too young to have demons," the ancient mused.
"I might say the same of you," replied the eldest. "But, then, I know better."
Methos' eyes narrowed. He didn't want to think about that again, but it rose unbidden. A small boy with glasses...in his pajamas, standing in a darkened hallway....a hesitant "Hi." Then silence, the child's body lying limp on the floor.
He blinked hard to clear his head, shooing the thoughts away. He'd deal with his own doings, thanks. He didn't need someone else dragging them up.
"It makes you wonder," Talia slid from the horse's back and stepped out of the stall. "Could we be the demons?"
"No more than anyone else has the capacity to be.....we just have longer to...perfect it," Methos answered, resting his head on the horse's neck, the smell filling his nostrils. "Do you think we are?" he asked as he looked over at her.
She ran a hand through her black hair and began to put it back up. His sweater looked nice on her.
'Why do women always look good in everything?'
"'No' to your question, but 'yes' to my own." Then she stuck her flute into her hair next to the pins that held it in place. "But you knew that already, didn't you?" She said as she left.
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Ororo met Scott and a very angry Logan in the upstairs hallway. Well, Logan actually brushed pass the two with his eyes fixed dead ahead, not acknowledging their presence. The door to his room slammed shut.
"Well then." Ororo said.
"Yeah." Scott added as the two turned to head downstairs when his door opened again unexpectedly.
"I need a beer." He brushed past them again.
The two proceeded down the stairs quickly left behind by Logan. They were talking about how much time this was going to take, while admiring the art and style of the villa. They paused when they entered the room where Logan and Talia had fought earlier, though there were no remains of the earlier fight as Talia had wiped up her blood.
Instead, they met Duncan as he moved through the last stages of his kata.
Duncan, though not as possessive with his sword as before the death of Richie Ryan, still practiced with it. Old habits die hard. He focused not on invisible opponents and possible scenarios as his body moved through the long memorized motions. Instead, he sought to clear his mind. To place his whole being into the weapon in his hands. Know nothing, be nothing more than the steel as it cut through the air of the room. A lazy, double-handed arch over his body and down to the left quickened into a single-handed outward thrust. Breath in. Breath out. Circle round. Slash across.
The dance came to a halt with the blade upright in front of him. Brown eyes opened to see that he had an audience. He smiled at the two and moved over to grab a towel to wipe off his chest and neck.
"I would have expected a claymore for a Scot." Ororo commented, her eyes playing over more than just the katana that MacLeod held. He lifted it up for them to see then held it out to Ororo to examine.
"I studied under Hideo Koto, a Japanese samurai. He taught me everything he knew before he...gave me this." Duncan said softly.
"He just gave it to you?" she questioned, noting the pause. His sad smile confirmed there was more to the story.
"He died. It was his last gift to me."
"I am sorry," she apologized as she handed it back to him.
"You looked as though you have been doing that a while." Scott commented.
Duncan smiled that smile. "Since 1778, a little over two hundred years. Some things you don't forget."
"That's a long time." Scott said.
"That it is." Duncan nodded. "If you will excuse me, I'm going to go wash up." He headed to the door with his towel. "I think Talia was going to try to cook something later, or you may raid the fridge if you want," he offered.
"Thank you." Scott replied as he left them.
"An amazing piece of work." Ororo breathed.
Scott nodded. "A weapon of that caliber is rare," he agreed.
"What? Oh. Yes....the sword." Ororo nodded and then headed for the kitchen.
Scott stared after her, wondering if that meant what he thought it did. Shaking his head, he followed her.
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Logan popped the top off the beer just as the side door opened and Talia stepped through.
"By all means, help yourself." She smirked as he paused in mid-gulp.
"Thought I could, but if you want it back..." Logan held out the partially consumed drink.
Talia wrinkled her nose and shook her head as she stepped past him to remove some food for the evening meal. "I hate the stuff," she said, placing some vegetables on the butcher's block that was part of the kitchen's island counter.
"Which, of course, explains why you have three cases of the "stuff" in your fridge." Logan stated, taking another pull.
"Those are for Methos." She shut the door, a bottle of vodka held in her hand. "This is my poison." She grabbed a small glass and poured.
"So is he gonna get ticked with me stealing his beer?" Logan leaned against the opposite counter watching her take a sip from the glass.
"I paid for it....and he steals from everyone else.....if he complains, ignore him." She smiled at him, blue eyes dancing at him as she raised the glass and knocked back what was left of the clear liquid.
"Is that so?" Logan questioned, his eyes taking in the woman in front of him. The faded blue jeans, full-length this time, the baggy burgundy sweater over slight frame. Black hair pinned up and....
'Flute?'
"You play?" He gestured to the object in her hair. Pause.
Talia raised a hand and pulled it out. "When I am in the mood." She stuck it into her pocket. "Ever think you will forgive Methos?"
"That's changing the subject." Logan finished the drink and tossed it in the trash bin.
"Fine then, how about answering the earlier questions?" Talia placed the vegetables in a colander in the sink to clean them. She pushed the sleeves up over her elbows.
"Nothing was...is wrong." Logan answered but the breath he took in to say it brought even more of Methos' scent into his nose, making him want to break something. The look the other man had given as he pulled Talia up behind him onto the horse had only added to the problem.
"Really?"
Logan felt water droplets strike his face as she flicked them at him.
"You lie poorly. But ...so be it." Talia went back to washing the produce.
"So be it?" Logan snorted. Talia arched an eyebrow at him. "Nobody talks like that anymore...so be what?" He crossed his arms.
Talia shrugged. "I do. And if you refuse to talk about whatever it is that is bothering you, then there is nothing that I can do. Period."
"And what would you do?" he asked.
"There can be no forward motion. Everything grinds to a halt. No growth, change, continuation. Life becomes stagnant. Without communication, there is nothing We stay as we are."
Logan took on a puzzled look.
"Secrets and lies kill," she finished softly.
The ensuing silence carried on the only sound that of the running water filling the sink. Talia started out of her reverie a moment later and shut it off. Logan was about to ask a question when the door opened and Methos stepped into the room.
"Hello." He moved, taking the long way around and pulled himself a beer from the refrigerator. "Did you start drinking beer?" His head shot up at seeing the empty spot in his beer inventory and his eye went to Talia.
She pointed to Logan.
"Oh."
Logan shrugged but allowed a small smirk to his lips, more from defiance to Methos than anything else.
Methos masked his face and contemplated grabbing one of Nadya's V8 Splashes out of fridge, but he decided not to let Logan see that he was annoying him.
Talia continued with washing and chopping the vegetables, leaving the men to their silent battle.
Logan decided that he wanted Methos to go away. "Shouldn't you be off looking for...what's her name? The little girl?"
Methos swallowed his mouthful of beer and raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"
Logan affected indifference and shrugged. "Hey, it just looked to me like you and the girl are kinda close. I'm surprised you ain't chasing 'her' all over the house like you did all over the countryside." The Wolverine felt a sort of malicious glee at pricking at Methos, even sans his claws.
Methos felt his face heat angrily and left the room without a word.
Logan smiled to himself, his back to Talia, before turning around, the indifference in place again. "What's eatin' him?"
But he found a large butcher's knife pointed at him. "Get out."
"What?"
"I said, 'get out'! You've got a set on you to speak of Nadya like that!" the small woman snarled. He hadn't heard her use that tone of voice since Le Blues. "You don't know her, so don't you dare bring her into your vengeful world. I don't mind you playing games with me...but you leave my friends alone."
Logan honestly didn't know what to say as she stalked around the island to face him toe-to-toe.
"And, in case you're wondering, now I AM threatening." The knifepoint was pricking his stomach.
Logan left, in much the same manner as Methos had.
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"I always wanted to fly." Talia said, her left hand resting on the steering wheel. The others had already piled out of the vehicle.
Duncan looked back at her incredulously.
"Well, I did." She crossed her arms defensively and looked up to watch Ororo circle the villa and dip behind the other side. 'Not bloody fair.' Talia smirked.
Nadya proceeded ahead of the others into the house. Duncan called after her but she kept moving. Now was not the time.
Piotr stuck his hands into his pockets, his shoulders heaving a sigh as he followed after the pair.
Talia ran a hand up to her hair and pulled the pins out, letting it fall down past her shoulders. When she looked up, she saw Logan waiting at the door. "He looks rather mad...oh...right...Methos didn't come back with us…bet he thinks he is going to leave....oh, great, he's coming over...strange, he doesn't really walk...he strides...or stalks...you always had a thing for predators...you should know better, behaving like a pre-adolescent....stop talking to yourself!" Talia shook her head.
"Where is he?" Logan put one hand up on the roof of the SUV. He was doing his best to be intimidating.
Talia looked in the back seat…then bent down and looked under her seat...then opened the glove compartment. "Spontaneous combustion," she concluded when she looked back up, "The only possible explanation." Then, she batted her eyes sweetly. "May I leave the car now...please?"
"I asked you a question." Logan laced anger into his voice.
Talia sighed. "And I did not give you an answer." She met his glare.
"I've got all the time in the world." He put both arms up on the roof and rested his head on them, still glaring at her.
Talia rolled down the window the rest of the way. "Perhaps you do. I know I do. But a lot of the others inside don't, so..." Talia knelt on the seat and put her face up into Logan's.
He jerked his head back reflexively at the quick motion and Talia, having gotten room to maneuver, stuck the upper part of her torso out the window. She paused, then placed a hand on his shoulder to steady herself and moved the rest of her body out through the window.
Logan still had his hands planted on the roof. As she planted both feet on the ground, he grabbed her by the upper arms and held her from moving any farther.
"He's behind you."
Logan balked but a moment after his hearing picked up the pounding of horse's hooves in the distance. "How did you know?"
"We can sense each other coming...a suffocating presence all around you...chills down the back of the spine...someone walking over your grave. Like that." Talia smiled at him mischievously and leaned in closer. "It gets stronger with age...what was wrong earlier?" She changed subject mid-sentence, catching him off-guard.
"Nothing." His hands released her and he walked over to the side of the driveway where there was a view of the hillside. His eyes focused on the direction of the hoof beats and a moment later he saw the horse and rider break over the top at full gallop.
Methos felt the pounding of the Shadowfax's hooves on the ground under him. Memories wanted to surface, far to many memories, but he kept them at bay. Instead he focused on absorbing this memory into his mind. The trees as they raced by. The trembling in his legs. The feeling of the horse's powerful muscles moving under him. And, of course, the saddle made all the difference in the world. Part of his mind picked up on Talia's Quickening and he nudged Shadowfax towards it.
The horse was more than happy to comply; this rider was one of the better ones. Completely at ease. He barely even held onto the reins. They crested the hill that the villa was built on, charging at full gallop towards Talia...
'...and the Wolverine...just great!' Methos leaned back in the saddle, causing Shadowfax to skid to a stop, the horse pulling back and his front hooves leaving the ground. Methos leaned forward into the motion then back as they came back down. He then looked to Logan.
"Back again in the same day?" Logan crossed his arms over his chest, and Methos responded with a nod and a smirk.
Then he held out a hand to Talia. She smiled up at him and allowed herself to be pulled up behind him. Methos caught the narrowing of the other man's eyes.
'So that's how it is.' Methos smiled again, purposefully directing it to irk Logan; then they took off at a light canter to the stable.
Logan watched till they rounded the villa and dropped out of view. Then his hand shot out and slammed into a nearby tree! He turned and stalked back to the villa. The tree started to bleed, three small trails of sap coursing down its bark by the time the door slammed shut behind the mutant.
.....................................................................................................................................................................................
Nadya strode through the halls of the grand villa, just wanting to be alone and shunning any room with people in it. As she entered the atrium at the back of the house, the coolness of the room washed over her and she closed her eyes for a moment.
"Are you alright?" A gentle voice with the lull of Britain laced on its edges. The whir of mechanical wheels echoed through the marble room.
Nadya didn't answer; she didn't want to. She just stepped further on into the atrium, trying to give him a hint.
"Why do you stay with them, Nadya?" The Professor wasn't giving up. He wanted to know her story, why she was here. He understood Joe Dawson's position, but hers...? What part did she play?
"Why do you stay with THEM, Professor?" she turned the question back on him.
"Because they are my students, my...children." Professor Xavier replied quietly.
Nadya half turned. "These Immortals are the only family I have."
"But surely you have friends who are not Immortal?"
"Surely you have friends who are not mutants." It wasn't a game; it was an honest reckoning of situations.
"If you want to know me so badly, search me. Probe my thoughts, if you have a 'mind' to!"
"I won't..."
"...abuse your powers, I know. It's not abuse if I give you permission, is it?" she questioned, moving towards him slowly.
This gave the Professor pause.
.......................................................................................................................................................................................
Shadowfax opened his mouth and let the bridle bit drop from his jaws, shaking his head as Methos patted his neck.
"She'll want to groom him, I'm sure." Talia looked down from the horse's back where she still sat.
Methos shook his head vaguely, still running his hand over the white animal's neck. "I'll do it." He wanted to say something to Talia, to ask if she noticed...but he knew she had.
"Why did she run away?" he asked a different question instead.
Talia shrugged. "She didn't say. I didn't ask." She shifted her weight on the horse's back. "We all have secrets, Methos. We all have demons. So does Nadya."
Methos shook his head again, taking up a dandy brush and beginning to slowly brush Shadowfax's mane. The horse flinched, unused to those other than the small hands of his mistress, but he felt no danger in Methos' touch and so relaxed.
"She's so young...too young to have demons," the ancient mused.
"I might say the same of you," replied the eldest. "But, then, I know better."
Methos' eyes narrowed. He didn't want to think about that again, but it rose unbidden. A small boy with glasses...in his pajamas, standing in a darkened hallway....a hesitant "Hi." Then silence, the child's body lying limp on the floor.
He blinked hard to clear his head, shooing the thoughts away. He'd deal with his own doings, thanks. He didn't need someone else dragging them up.
"It makes you wonder," Talia slid from the horse's back and stepped out of the stall. "Could we be the demons?"
"No more than anyone else has the capacity to be.....we just have longer to...perfect it," Methos answered, resting his head on the horse's neck, the smell filling his nostrils. "Do you think we are?" he asked as he looked over at her.
She ran a hand through her black hair and began to put it back up. His sweater looked nice on her.
'Why do women always look good in everything?'
"'No' to your question, but 'yes' to my own." Then she stuck her flute into her hair next to the pins that held it in place. "But you knew that already, didn't you?" She said as she left.
..............................................................................................................................................................................
Ororo met Scott and a very angry Logan in the upstairs hallway. Well, Logan actually brushed pass the two with his eyes fixed dead ahead, not acknowledging their presence. The door to his room slammed shut.
"Well then." Ororo said.
"Yeah." Scott added as the two turned to head downstairs when his door opened again unexpectedly.
"I need a beer." He brushed past them again.
The two proceeded down the stairs quickly left behind by Logan. They were talking about how much time this was going to take, while admiring the art and style of the villa. They paused when they entered the room where Logan and Talia had fought earlier, though there were no remains of the earlier fight as Talia had wiped up her blood.
Instead, they met Duncan as he moved through the last stages of his kata.
Duncan, though not as possessive with his sword as before the death of Richie Ryan, still practiced with it. Old habits die hard. He focused not on invisible opponents and possible scenarios as his body moved through the long memorized motions. Instead, he sought to clear his mind. To place his whole being into the weapon in his hands. Know nothing, be nothing more than the steel as it cut through the air of the room. A lazy, double-handed arch over his body and down to the left quickened into a single-handed outward thrust. Breath in. Breath out. Circle round. Slash across.
The dance came to a halt with the blade upright in front of him. Brown eyes opened to see that he had an audience. He smiled at the two and moved over to grab a towel to wipe off his chest and neck.
"I would have expected a claymore for a Scot." Ororo commented, her eyes playing over more than just the katana that MacLeod held. He lifted it up for them to see then held it out to Ororo to examine.
"I studied under Hideo Koto, a Japanese samurai. He taught me everything he knew before he...gave me this." Duncan said softly.
"He just gave it to you?" she questioned, noting the pause. His sad smile confirmed there was more to the story.
"He died. It was his last gift to me."
"I am sorry," she apologized as she handed it back to him.
"You looked as though you have been doing that a while." Scott commented.
Duncan smiled that smile. "Since 1778, a little over two hundred years. Some things you don't forget."
"That's a long time." Scott said.
"That it is." Duncan nodded. "If you will excuse me, I'm going to go wash up." He headed to the door with his towel. "I think Talia was going to try to cook something later, or you may raid the fridge if you want," he offered.
"Thank you." Scott replied as he left them.
"An amazing piece of work." Ororo breathed.
Scott nodded. "A weapon of that caliber is rare," he agreed.
"What? Oh. Yes....the sword." Ororo nodded and then headed for the kitchen.
Scott stared after her, wondering if that meant what he thought it did. Shaking his head, he followed her.
............................................................................................................................................................................................
Logan popped the top off the beer just as the side door opened and Talia stepped through.
"By all means, help yourself." She smirked as he paused in mid-gulp.
"Thought I could, but if you want it back..." Logan held out the partially consumed drink.
Talia wrinkled her nose and shook her head as she stepped past him to remove some food for the evening meal. "I hate the stuff," she said, placing some vegetables on the butcher's block that was part of the kitchen's island counter.
"Which, of course, explains why you have three cases of the "stuff" in your fridge." Logan stated, taking another pull.
"Those are for Methos." She shut the door, a bottle of vodka held in her hand. "This is my poison." She grabbed a small glass and poured.
"So is he gonna get ticked with me stealing his beer?" Logan leaned against the opposite counter watching her take a sip from the glass.
"I paid for it....and he steals from everyone else.....if he complains, ignore him." She smiled at him, blue eyes dancing at him as she raised the glass and knocked back what was left of the clear liquid.
"Is that so?" Logan questioned, his eyes taking in the woman in front of him. The faded blue jeans, full-length this time, the baggy burgundy sweater over slight frame. Black hair pinned up and....
'Flute?'
"You play?" He gestured to the object in her hair. Pause.
Talia raised a hand and pulled it out. "When I am in the mood." She stuck it into her pocket. "Ever think you will forgive Methos?"
"That's changing the subject." Logan finished the drink and tossed it in the trash bin.
"Fine then, how about answering the earlier questions?" Talia placed the vegetables in a colander in the sink to clean them. She pushed the sleeves up over her elbows.
"Nothing was...is wrong." Logan answered but the breath he took in to say it brought even more of Methos' scent into his nose, making him want to break something. The look the other man had given as he pulled Talia up behind him onto the horse had only added to the problem.
"Really?"
Logan felt water droplets strike his face as she flicked them at him.
"You lie poorly. But ...so be it." Talia went back to washing the produce.
"So be it?" Logan snorted. Talia arched an eyebrow at him. "Nobody talks like that anymore...so be what?" He crossed his arms.
Talia shrugged. "I do. And if you refuse to talk about whatever it is that is bothering you, then there is nothing that I can do. Period."
"And what would you do?" he asked.
"There can be no forward motion. Everything grinds to a halt. No growth, change, continuation. Life becomes stagnant. Without communication, there is nothing We stay as we are."
Logan took on a puzzled look.
"Secrets and lies kill," she finished softly.
The ensuing silence carried on the only sound that of the running water filling the sink. Talia started out of her reverie a moment later and shut it off. Logan was about to ask a question when the door opened and Methos stepped into the room.
"Hello." He moved, taking the long way around and pulled himself a beer from the refrigerator. "Did you start drinking beer?" His head shot up at seeing the empty spot in his beer inventory and his eye went to Talia.
She pointed to Logan.
"Oh."
Logan shrugged but allowed a small smirk to his lips, more from defiance to Methos than anything else.
Methos masked his face and contemplated grabbing one of Nadya's V8 Splashes out of fridge, but he decided not to let Logan see that he was annoying him.
Talia continued with washing and chopping the vegetables, leaving the men to their silent battle.
Logan decided that he wanted Methos to go away. "Shouldn't you be off looking for...what's her name? The little girl?"
Methos swallowed his mouthful of beer and raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"
Logan affected indifference and shrugged. "Hey, it just looked to me like you and the girl are kinda close. I'm surprised you ain't chasing 'her' all over the house like you did all over the countryside." The Wolverine felt a sort of malicious glee at pricking at Methos, even sans his claws.
Methos felt his face heat angrily and left the room without a word.
Logan smiled to himself, his back to Talia, before turning around, the indifference in place again. "What's eatin' him?"
But he found a large butcher's knife pointed at him. "Get out."
"What?"
"I said, 'get out'! You've got a set on you to speak of Nadya like that!" the small woman snarled. He hadn't heard her use that tone of voice since Le Blues. "You don't know her, so don't you dare bring her into your vengeful world. I don't mind you playing games with me...but you leave my friends alone."
Logan honestly didn't know what to say as she stalked around the island to face him toe-to-toe.
"And, in case you're wondering, now I AM threatening." The knifepoint was pricking his stomach.
Logan left, in much the same manner as Methos had.