TIMLESS – CHAPTER FOUR
Every night in my dreams I see you, I feel you
That is how I know you go on.
Far across the distance and spaces between us
You have come to show you go on.
I believe that the heart does go on.
Once more you open the door
And you're here in my heart,
And my heart will go on and on.
Love can touch us one time and last for a lifetime,
And never let go till we're gone.
Love was when I loved you, one true time I hold to
In my life we'll always go on.
Near, far, wherever you are,
I believe that the heart does go on.
And you're here in my heart,
And my heart will go on and on.
You're here, there's nothing I fear
And I know that my heart will go on.
You are safe in my heart,
And my heart will go on and on.
Celine Deon – My Heart Will Go On
TWO WEEKS LATER
It was noon in Paris as Darcy left the boutique, Amanda followed her, both carried bags.
"I still can't believe it." Darcy muttered as she walked down the street.
"Believe what?" Amanda asked.
"Everything," Darcy looked to the woman, "Thank you for agreeing to help."
Amanda shrugged, "It's not everyday the world's oldest man gets married."
Darcy laughed, "I guess not.
Mac stepped out on deck when he sensed Amanda. She carried numerous bags with her. He wasn't surprised. The Highlander helped both women onto the boat.
"Aren't you supposed to be somewhere?" Amanda inquired as she went below deck.
"I wanted to make sure you got back on time." Mac said and Amanda gave him a scathing look. "Alright, I'm going."
He nodded to Darcy and left the boat. Amanda listened for the sound of his car before grinning.
"Now let's get you ready."
Methos passed back and forth across the church floor. He kept tugging at his suit jacket. His hands danced over his hair, his collar and down to the buttons on his jacket. He couldn't believe he was so nervous.
Mac finally grabbed him and made the man stand still. "Stop worrying."
Methos exhaled deeply and looked at the two guests. Joe Dawson was in front; beside him was Monsieur Lewis, they were chatting about music.
"That's easy for you to say," Methos countered and breathed deeply. "What if something happens?"
"Nothing is going to happen." Mac smiled at him, "We chose a church for a reason."
Methos frowned at him, "Not funny MacLeod. Someone could attack after the wedding."
"No one is going to do that."
"We you this nervous when you got married?"
"Yes," Mac met Methos' gaze, "But I trusted in the love we shared. Nothing else mattered."
Methos nodded, "I see your point and I know she loves me."
"You're damn right she does. What other woman would put up with your yapping about Nero and Cleopatra?"
The alter was guarded by the middle aged minister who had agreed to help them. It was a last minute arrangement and there was another wedding an hour from now.
Because of the quickie arrangements there weren't any decorations or flowers. Besides, Amanda had argued, there was too much history to make a suitable theme. Lingering in the back of the church was the wedding planner for the next wedding. She kept pointing and whispering to her assistant.
Methos kept noticing the looks she was giving him. He was amused that she was checking him out.
Methos opened his mouth to argue with the last comment but stopped. The minister stepped up to them and asked a few last minute questions
"Which of you gentleman is Mr. Pierson?" Methos indicated he was, "And this is your best man?"
Methos nodded, "Yes."
"Alright so this is how it works."
Minutes later Mac was still trying to get Methos to relax.
"By the way, why are you using your alias?" Mac asked lightly.
"What was I supposed to put...name: Methos, born: 4000 B.C?" Methos shook his head, "It doesn't matter what name we use, it's only paper."
Mac eyed the man, "This it the twenty-first century, Methos, paper means a lot."
"Fine, then don't sign it." Methos was getting edgy, "What is taking so long?"
Mac glanced at the closed doors; the wedding planner was still there. "Perhaps it's the dress."
Methos paced away from Mac and moved his tie to half mast. Mac sighed as he resisted the urge to fix it.
"Relax," Mac whispered to Methos, as he adjusted the man's tie for the last time. "You'll be fine."
"I can't." Methos kept touching his tie or his jacket. "I keep feeling like I'm going to mess up."
"You won't, now just calm down."
"Have you got the rings?" Methos asked quickly.
"Yes, I have them." Mac patted his shirt pocket.
"It's good of you to wear a kilt." Methos said and Mac shrugged.
Mac had to admit, when Darcy had asked him to wear a kilt, he'd been surprised. But after a few minutes of thought he'd agreed. His friend was marrying the girl he loved. Mac could wear a kilt for a few hours.
But it did feel odd to be wearing the MacLeod tartan again. Before Mac could contemplate it Amanda poked her head into the sanctuary; she gave a thumbs up sign.
"Here we go." Methos said nervously, "I'd rather face an army then do this."
Mac nudged him, "You'll be fine."
"Yeah." Methos cleared his throat as music came from a portable system. The doors opened, "If my heart stops..."
"We'll wait." Mac lowered his voice even more, "It's only been a three thousand year waiting period."
Darcy was nervous as Amanda fluffed her veil and grinned at her. She stood staring at the doors, clutching her simple bouquet and wondered what Methos was thinking.
Amanda stepped up to the doors and gave the thumbs-up sign to the men. A second later the music started and the doors opened.
The restaurant was closed for a private party; the interior was light to a soft golden glow. A couple danced on the floor as other sat a large table. The spectators watched with pleased expressions.
Methos held Darcy as they swayed to soft music. He breathed in her perfume and the smell of her. Nothing had ever been sweeter. His hands felt the movement of her body; time didn't matter now, the eons of absence were gone.
Mac stood and offered a hand to Amanda. They stepped onto the floor and danced together as the music shifted to a Spanish song.
Mac paused at the song, "Flamenco." He arched a brow at Amanda and she shrugged. They went into the passionate dance.
Methos led Darcy off the floor. He stepped out into the private atrium just off the main building. From inside was laughter and song. Outside it was cool and welcoming.
"Darcy," Methos kissed her hands, the words stalled.
She placed a finger to his lips, "I know." He stared at her with teary eyes, "Not even time will keep us apart."
He held her to him. "Not even time."
A man cleared his throat. Methos looked up it was Joe.
"Sorry to bother you, but Mac has a speech to make."
Methos sat at the table with Darcy; he held her hand under the table. Mac stood in the middle of the room. He was acting drunk as he raised his glass.
"To the world's oldest couple," He said, slurring slightly, "May they never divorce; I can't imagine the paper work involved."
Amanda laughed as she joined the toast, "You two deserve happiness in all its forms."
Mac staggered back to the table and set his glass down. When he straightened he was totally sober.
"Now for a little Scottish dance."
Amanda roared with laughter as the music turned into a Scottish tune and Mac started to dance. To her complete surprise he actually seemed capable.
Darcy joined in and laughed as she was spun around.
The laughter stopped as something but through the glass windows. There was a scream as the glass shattered in a hail of bullets.
"Darcy!"
She saw Methos rush for her; she saw Joe and Mr. Lewis on the floor. As Methos reached her, pain blossomed and she looked down at her white dress. Blood was turning it red.
Looking up she saw the room full of bodies, Methos was lying dead at her feet. She looked up at the sound of laughter. She screamed as she Alexander standing in front of her.
Darcy jolted to awareness; it was mid afternoon, not evening. She was on the boat not at the restaurant. Amanda peaked out of the kitchenette and smiled.
"What's wrong, you were shouting?"
"Nothing." Darcy stood up and grabbed her jacket, "I am going for a walk."
"Be back at three, we have to get you ready." Amanda called as Darcy went above board.
Darcy kept her coat closed using her hands. As she walked she thought of her meeting with Methos. The song had been saying more then she realized. In the three thousand years she'd had with him, she and Methos had never married. Not even talked about it.
Now she was mere hours away from the official ceremony. Darcy stopped cold as she realized what was wrong. She was scared; scared to marry him, scared to live with him. Scared of the whole thing.
She spotted a nearby bench and sat down. Marrying Methos meant living in his world. The sword fights; the Quickening, the whole thing, which would be her life as of four o'clock this afternoon. The question was: Could she deal with it?Darcy sighed; her head sank into her hands. Around her the sounds of Paris flowed like a river. It was nonstop and completely real. Darcy looked up and watched the people, the crowds.
As much as she wanted to deny the chaos in her heart; Darcy knew she couldn't. She was scared of Methos.
Darcy stood quickly only to realize she had no where to go. Desperation filled her heart as she longed to talk with someone. But the only people she could share with were friends of Methos'. She needed someone outside of the fold.
Darcy pushed open the doors of the café. The counter personell looked up and smiled at her.
"Hey Darcy."
"Chantal, I need a few minutes."
"Sure."
The blonde woman joined Darcy at a table. "How is the new job?'
"Fine." Darcy mumbled as she shrugged off her jacket.
Chantal grabbed her left hand in a quick motion, "Is that new?"
"Yes." Darcy took her hand back, "I need to ask you some honest questions."
"Go for it."
Darcy started by telling her the story of meeting Methos at the café. She then told her about singing at the restaurant with him and getting a job because of it. Darcy skipped over the fight with Alexander the Great. But she told Chantal that he had stood up against a jealous ex.
Chantal's eye brows had climbed at that one. "He fought the guy?"
"Yeah." Darcy then told her about shopping with Amanda.
"And you found your dress instantly?" Chantal asked.
"Yes." Darcy told her about the plans for the wedding.
"And their not paying you pay for the church?"
"No." Darcy was getting frustrated with all the questions.
"And your new boss is letting you use his business for the reception?"
Darcy sighed, "So what?"
"Honey," Chantal took her hands, "You meet this guy at midnight while Frank Sinatra is singing of love. Then he fights an ex-boyfriend for you; not to mention you finding the perfect dress instantly. Add on top of that; getting your church and reception for free." Chantal shook her head, "I don't know what you're worried about. It seems as though you are meant to marry this guy."
Darcy wanted to argue; to tell her about the beheading of Alexander, tell her about the centuries of death she had endured. But that was a hopeless case; Chantal would never understand, she wasn't supposed to.
"Thanks for your time," Darcy stood up and grabbed her coat. "Thanks for making things clear to me."
Chantal watched Darcy leave and sighed, she'd never seen her so unhappy.
Darcy kept walking. Her head filled with even more concerns than before. Chantal had made some excellent points. If one believed in signs; Darcy had them in spades, she should marry Methos. But still she felt reluctant. What if....Darcy cut the thought off, the game of What If would last her for a life time. A life time she didn't want to waste.
She was forced to stop at an intersection. The crowd around her didn't notice or care about her. She stood as they crossed the street; no one on the street looked or stared. She was no more interesting then a tree, to them. But to Methos, she was priceless. To this five thousand year old man, she was worth dying for.
Darcy turned and ran back to Mac's place. Chantal had said it her self; Methos had stood up for her, he had risked his life for her, which had to mean something. It just had to.
Four o'clock was fifteen minutes away. Darcy stood in her wedding dress, holding a boquet of field flowers and tapping her toe.
Amanda came back looking helpless. "He says that the wedding after you guys, moved up their time."
"So?" Mac asked quickly.
Darcy glanced at the Highlander; he was dressed in the MacLeod tartan and looking fully imposing. Standing beside her was Methos; he was wearing a black suit with beige shirt and gray tie. He looked stunning.
"So it means our church wedding it's going to happen." Methos said simply.
"No so fast." Darcy handed Methos her flowers and marched into the sanctuary. Amanda followed her. They men trailed quickly.
Darcy marched up to the crowd of people before the alter. The wedding before her was a full scale event. Big dress, fancy flowers, big price tag.
Darcy didn't care. She pushed her way into the crowd and the minister looked at her with surprise.
"Sorry to bother you," She said, no the least bit sorry, "I have an agreement with the padre here."
"We were here first," The woman snapped.
Darcy glanced over at her; dressed in her big gown and viel she looked pretty, the expression her face ruined it.
"I see," Darcy looked her up and down, "That's a nice dress."
The woman crossed her arms and glared, "So?"
"I'd hope that someone who can afford that can afford courtesy." Darcy kept her tone as light as possible.
The woman's face twisted in anger.
Darcy kept on going, "Now look here," She pointed to herself. "I didn't spend three thousand dollars on this, not even on my flowers. But I have spent three thousand years waiting for the right guy to come along." She nodded to Methos.
The woman looked over, her face never changed.
"Now all I am asking is a few minutes of time. Ten, fifteen at most, to let us say we do and then you can have the church to yourself."
"Three thousand years?" The woman scoffed, "I doubt that."
Darcy leaned into her, "Before you met him," She thumbed to the guy on the other side of her, "I am sure you felt like it was three thousand years."
The expensive bride looked at her husband-to-be, her face still didn't change.
"Marie," The man spoke up, his voice was quiet, "Give them a few minutes. We did take their time slot."
"No," Marie shook her head, her veil swished around her shoulders. "I won't give up my wedding time."
"Well actually it's ours, your taking." Darcy said firmly. "But hey if you don't want to give it up, that's cool." She looked into Marie's eyes. "Marriage is about give and take, lady. Your life will be full of compromise from this day forward. You had better make some adjustments if you plan to stay married."
Darcy spun around marched back to Methos. He arched a brow at her, she grinned.
"Wait," The groom turned and came up to them. He glanced at Methos and Mac. "Ten minutes?"
"At most." Darcy assured him.
The man stared again at Mac, "He's part of it?"
Darcy shrugged, "He's the something blue, requirement."
Amanda snickered softly.
The man frowned, Darcy explained. "Something old," She pointed at Methos, "Something blue," Indicated Mac and something barrowed," She indicated Amanda, "These are her shoes I am wearing."
The man clued in and smiled gently, "I see. Alright, take your ten minutes, we'll wait."
"Thanks...a lot."
Fifteen minutes later; she walked out of the church married.
"So tell me again why we had to use your alias." Darcy asked as they drove to the restaurant.
"Well I couldn't exactly use my name," Methos informed her, "How would it look on paper. Name: Methos, birth date: 4000 B.C. (Second birth)."
"Second?"
"That's roughly when I died the first time." Methos informed her as Mac guided the car down the narrow roads.
"Oh," Darcy stared out at the streets. She suddenly recalled her dream and felt a chill race down her spine. "Mac, take us somewhere else,"
"What?" He glanced back at her, "What do you mean?"
"I mean go somewhere other then the restaurant. Now!"
"Alright," He changed course.
Methos gave her a confused expression. Darcy shook her head, "Call it a hunch."
Hours later she was dancing with Methos to the sounds of Frank Sinatra. The sloshing of water was romantic and the moon flooded the barge in silver light. Mac and Amanda were below deck, giving them personal time."So are you going to tell me what that was about?" He asked as they swayed together.
Darcy placed her head on his shoulder, "These shoes make me almost as tall as you."
"Are you going to tell me or not?" Methos asked.
Darcy heard Mac shout as he ran above deck; "Mr. Lewis' place was just blown up."
Darcy felt a chill and it had nothing to do with the air. "Blown up?"
"Yeah, he was killed in it. The police are there now." Mac looked at her, "How'd you know?"
Darcy drew in a breath, "I had a dream this afternoon about a catastrophe at his place. Then there was the tone of Chantal's voice when I spoke to her. It sounded suspicious." Darcy shrugged, "I just thought we would be better off not going."
Mac was staring at her, "So it was a hunch." He looked to Methos, "I guess someone didn't want this to go through."
"But we got Alexander," Methos said coolly. "Who else could it be?"
Darcy suddenly recalled the woman who had distracted Alexander. "Cassandra?"
Both men looked to her in surprise.
Darcy shrugged, "It was just a thought."
Three days later
Mac stepped into the church and found Cassandra waiting for him. She was seated in one of the pews and looked relaxed. He sat next to her.
"Thanks for coming Duncan," Cassandra spoke quietly. "I guess you're wondering why I called?"
"I know why," He said dryly.
She looked at him, "How?"
"Darcy made us choose a different location for the reception. Later she said it was because of a dream."
Cassandra smiled, "I knew she was psychic."
Mac looked at her, "You would have killed her."
Cassandra sighed, "Duncan, when you understand? I will always carrying a hatred of Methos. That won't change."
"But you saved his life."
She shook her head, "No, I saved that girl from another heartache. Methos made love her, but that doesn't change who he was or what he did to me."
"But you would have killed Darcy," Mac repeated coldly, "She's not part of this."
"Oh yes she is," Cassandra counted firmly, "The moment she said yes, she was part of this game." Cassandra stood quickly, "One day someone will come for her. Not because she's a threat, but because she's part of his life. Eventually, his enemies will figure out that Methos loves her. She is a pawn, Duncan."
Mac moved to speak but she cut him off.
"Killing her that night would have saved her from years of waiting." Cassandra stepped into the aisle. "I hope that when she is killed, you can explain it to him."
She left the church; the doors made a soft thud as they closed, Mac didn't move from his seat. He was too lost in his own thoughts to move.
Darcy sat on the couch, watching the television. The movie was nearly over, she hadn't watched it. Her gaze kept going to the band on her left hand; the simple gold band that winked next to her engagement ring.
Pulling in a breath, she picked up the cordless phone, dialed a number and exhaled. A moment later the line was picked up.
"Hi mom," She said as tears welled up in her eyes. "Oh nothing much, just watching television." She listened to her mother talk as she silently cried.
"Darcy?"
Pulling in a breath, Darcy stopped crying, "Yeah mom?"
"Your father and I want to come visit for a week or two."
Darcy frowned, "Why?"
"Well honey, you left so suddenly, we haven't seen you in three years. Things have happened in the family."
Darcy turned her head as Methos stepped through the door. She waved for him not to talk. He frowned but oblieged.
"Um, when are you coming?" She asked as he shrugged off his coat.
"We should be there by Friday."
Darcy felt Methos sit next to her, she automatically cuddled against him. "Friday? That's two days from now. Where are you staying?"
"With Philippe de Chardonnay."
Darcy vaguely recalled the name, "Oh, sure. When do you want to see me?" Methos frowned at her and she shook her head,
"Could you pick us up at the airport?"
Darcy swallowed, "Sure, okay. What time."
"Our plane lands at six." Her mother told her the gate, "I have to go, honey. Your dad wants dinner. See you Friday."
Darcy hung up and stared into her husbands eyes. She sat up quickly and crossed to the kitchen, Methos followed.
"Who was that? You looked worried."
Darcy placed the phone on the counter. She busied her self with taking out a frying pan. "Do you want eggs?"
"I want you to tell me who that was," Methos turned her to face him, his hands cupping her face.
"That was my mom," Darcy spoke in a rush; "She and my Dad are coming from New York for a two week visit."
Methos frowned again, "And?"
"And...." Darcy wanted to move, to look away from him, but he held her still. "And they don't know about you."
His frowned deepened, "And?"
"And they want me to meet them at the airport."
"So what am I supposed to do?"
"Come with me," She said and he relaxed slightly, "I'll explain it to them."
"Explain us how exactly?"
Darcy got loose and opened the refrigerator, she took out eggs.
"I'll say we met at the café. We dated for six months and decided to get married. The rest they don't need to know about."
Methos his lean body against the counter, "And they're just going to accept it?"
"Probably not my mom, but my dad should. He'll just be happy I am married to a normal guy."
Methos laughed at that.
Darcy glanced at him, "Well you know, no tattoos or body piercing, nothing weird."
"No I just swing a sword from time to time." Methos watched her as Darcy moved around the kitchen.
"Come on, what should I say? That you battled Alexander the Great to break a three thousand year old jinx? That in fact you are the world's oldest man?" Darcy shot him a look as she opened a drawer, "Come on, Methos, they won't buy that."
"They are going to ask about kids," He said simply.
Darcy found a spatula and stood by the stove. She faced him with the utensil in one hand.
Her expression was cool. "So what?"
"So..." Methos said, "They are going to notice after a few years. How about that?"
"I'll tell them the truth," Darcy half-turned and stirred the eggs.
"The truth being..."
She sighed, "You can't have kids."
Methos frowned but it was the truth, "You don't seem keen on seeing your parents."
Darcy turned back to him, "I left New York because my mother wouldn't let go of Toby King. She couldn't understand why I had left him. To her, Toby King was, is, perfect. My father is a different matter. But my mother...she'll be a handful."
Methos watched his wife as she focused on the eggs, "Are we going to have them stay with us?"
"They are staying with some guy by the name of Philippe de....something."
"de Chardonnay?"
She glanced at the change in tone, "You know him?"
Methos nodded, "We spent time traveling Asia together back in the 1100's. He was a scientist then. I think he's now living as a Count."
"This just gets better and better."
"Your family is staying with him?" Methos sounded amused, "This will be interesting."
"How so?" Darcy frowned at him as he chuckled softly. "Methos...why are you laughing like that?"
He laughed harder at her tone, "You'll see."
END OF CHAPTER FOUR