To annP : Is there any chance that you are the annP who wrote the fanfic ‚Paid in Full'?
Seacouver Airport, a few weeks later
Joe Dawson, who was sitting on a - according to his opinion - not very comfortable blue iron chair in the Seacover Airport hale, glanced for the at least 15th time within the last 30 minutes at the big airport clock, which hung not more than a few meters away from him – only to realize that barely about two minutes had passed since he had looked the last time.
With a slightly twisted face, he forced himself to relax back on his chair again, cursing himself for the 100th time for letting Methos have persuaded him to give the Ancient a ride home… Not that Methos hadn't enough money to pay for a taxi – but why should he, 'Taxi-Joe' was gratis and in addition to that much more comfortable.
Only two chairs away from Joe a child began to cry, getting louder and louder every second. Its mother, though sitting next to it, apparently was unable or unwilling to do something about it. Guessing that is was very likely the later, because the mother continued to read her Vogue-magazine instead of paying any attention to her child, Joe took a deep breath while he unconsciously clenched his right hand around his car-key, wishing desperately that Methos would arrive soon to deliver him out of this hell.
The only positive thing about him acting as a taxi-service was that he would be able to keep an eye on the Ancient, he then continued in his thoughts, trying at the same time to block the child's unnerving screams out of his mind. So he at least would be able to avoid situations like the one that had happened a few weeks ago, when he had been asked by an old watcher friend to tell the students at watcher academy some first-hand stories about MacLeod.
He had declined at first, but his friend finally had persuaded him – to be honest: the promised old Scottish whiskey had really been a very good argument. And everything had been fine at first; Joe almost had been able to enjoy the lesson, seeing the enthusiasm his stories brought to the faces of the students, until…
… until he suddenly had discovered a dark-haired figure sitting in the last row, a figure that held a bottle of beer in its hand while it grinned at him. Joe remembered that he had swallowed the wrong way at that particular sight, coughing for the whole following minute until he finally had been able to breath again. Then, after he had recovered enough, he had once again looked at the figure, only to see that the grin had widened and that the green-gold eyes were flashing of amusement.
And if that hadn't been enough, the Ancient then had begun to ask 'funny' questions about MacLeod, bringing all the other students to laugh while Joe's face had turned redder from second to second. At that particular moment, Joe really had wished nothing more in the world than to lay his hands around the Ancient's neck and throttle him – and that very slowly.
Joe's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud noise coming from his left side. When Joe turned his head, he discovered a group of about 15 young-looking men and women coming in his direction, all laughing and chatting together very loudly. Had to be a football-fan-club or something similar, he decided when he noticed their outfit: they all were clothed in black shirts, wore black caps and had long scarves with fringes around their necks.
Joe already was about to glance once more at the clock, when his eyes suddenly felt on a figure that was coming into his direction, according to its outfit looking as it would belong to the loud group - a figure that turned out to be Methos, Joe realized after a few stunned seconds in which he only could stare with wide eyes full of disbelieve at the Ancient.
What to hell! Joe thought totally aghast when he finally got a better look at the shirt the Ancient wore: printed on it was a familiar face: the face of Byron – exactly the same Lord Byron MacLeod had beheaded a while ago.
"Hi, Joe," then Methos's voice interrupted his thoughts, "good to see you… I only need to get my things and then we can leave."
Before Joe was able to return one single word, another voice – and a not very pleasant one –piped up, "don't you know that it's imprudent to leave without one last goodbye?" A second later, the voice-owner stepped next to Methos: it was a tall woman that Joe would have called quite good-looking hadn't she dyed her native blonde hair in a very dark black that absolutely not fitted her else pale-looking face. And the many black make-up around her eyes… Joe shuddered silently, what to hell was this supposed to be? The Rocky Horror Picture Show? Dracula?
He wasn't able to follow his thoughts, because the woman suddenly laughed and extended one of her white hands to him, saying, "it's a honour to meet you, Mr.Pierson." Her words were accompanied with a torrent of horrible smell – alcohol, as Joe (after all expert in this kind of things) realized immediately. Although normally used to this kind of smell, it made Joe step a few strides back while he tried to breath only through his mouth.
"Oh no! This is Joe Dawson… Joe," Methos nodded to Joe while he pointed at the woman, "Annette."
At these words, the woman began to giggle, though Joe not really was able to understand the reason for it; had to be the influence of the alcohol, Joe thought to himself.
"I'm soooooo sorry, Mr. Dawson," the woman then purred, once again filling Joe's nose with her disgusting alcohol-smell. "I thought you were Adam's father," she giggled again before she finally turned her head to Methos. "You have my number, call me next Saturday," she then whispered with an undertone in her voice that - according to the glance she simultaneously sent in the direction of Methos - was apparently meant to be sexy. Bending a bit forward, she then kissed Methos on his lips before she turned to vanish out of Joe's sight. (To Joe's great sorrow, the alcohol-smell didn't follow her good example but instead remained a bit longer).
A bit stunned by the whole scene (and still somewhat dazed by the alcohol-smell), Joe needed some seconds before he finally was able to ask, "what was that about? And what to hell are you wearing?" He pointed at Methos's outfit.
"Oh this," the Ancient grinned while he looked down at himself, "this is the official Byron-fan-club outfit. Do you like it?" Seeing Joe's aghast-looking face, he explained, "haven't I told you that I stayed the last few days at the Byron memorial concert in London?"
"Byron memorial concert?" Joe repeated, not quite believing what he heard.
"Yes, I had V.I.P. tickets, all inclusive." The grin on Methos's face widened. "Beer for free as much as you could drink… Absolutely great. I also met Annette there; you wouldn't believe it, but she was a very close friend of Byron… I'll tell you later all about it," he then said, "but first I have to take care of my baggage." He looked at Joe, "wait here, DAD," he emphasized the last word, his green-gold eyes glittered in amusement. " I'll be back in some minutes, so don't go away." With that he then turned and left in the direction of the baggage-counter, leaving a still stunned-looking Joe behind him.
The same place, about 30 minutes beforeAlexandre Lafiette followed Joe Dawson to the Seacover Airport were he hid behind a big Coca-Cola advertisement-sign, never letting Joe Dawson out of sight. The last few weeks had been boring beyond imaging; Joe Dawson had turned out to be one of the most boring assignments he ever have had to watch: his daily routine was to get up very late (and that was the only pleasant thing he could say about Dawson), before he went to his bar were he stayed until night before he finally headed home again. And that daily!
But today was THE DAY - Lafiette felt it in his bones: today he would meet the Ancient... why else should Joe Dawson wait at the airport? There was no one else Dawson could possibly wait for: MacLeod was in Europe, and there was no other watcher expected to arrive today – Lafiette had checked that by calling watcher HQ a few minutes ago. And other friends? No, Lafiette shook his head, not wanting to occupy himself any longer with this unwelcome thought. No, Dawson was waiting for the Old One, and no one else.
A smile appeared on his face as he imagined the Ancient: there was absolutely no doubt that he immediately would discover the Old One by his eternal aura. Methos would be different from all the other Immortals... maybe like another Darius - but of course even greater. And HE would be the one who would have discovered him! HIS name would be associated with the Oldest of all Immortals.
The smile on his face widened. The directors would personally congratulate him to this discovery – the discovery in centuries. No, he shook his head, not in centuries, the discovery of the Millennium! … His picture would be hung up in the 'Watcher Hale of Fame' were all upcoming students of the watcher academy would admire it. The important question was now what to wear on this important occasion: maybe he should buy himself a new silken suit? He passed with his right hand through his hair as he noticed his image reflected in the glass of the advertisement-sign...And maybe he also should have his hair dyed black again to look a bit younger? Yes, he decided, this is definitely a good idea; I must remember to set a date with my hairdresser.
Deeply in thoughts about how the watchers would honour him for his discovery, he already had been waiting there for about 30 minutes when suddenly his thoughts were disturbed by a loud noise coming from a group of 10 dark-clothed people, who walked into the direction of Joe Dawson. Slightly angry about this sudden distraction, Lafiette bent a bit forward to get a better look at Dawson… and almost let out a cry when he discovered a dark-haired young man approaching the other watcher.
Methos! he thought in excitement while he bit himself subconsciously on his lip, starring at the man like a rabbit into the eyes of a snake. Tension made his breathing difficult. Not able to bear the curiosity any longer, he decided to get a bit closer. Maybe he even would be able to hear the Ancient's voice, he thought enthusiastically as he crept nearer until he was able to hide behind a sweat-vending machine only few meters away from Dawson and the Immortal. There he remained, his right hand shaking slightly as he tried to get a better look at the man's face.
The moment the man turned his head, Lafiette's heart almost stopped... but not out of excitement – but of great disappointment instead. All tension immediately left his body; he sacked on one of the free iron chairs next to the sweat-vending machine, no longer able to stand on his now very weak feet. No, he thought totally stunned. In front of him, talking with Dawson and a strange looking female stood... not Methos, but ADAM PIERSON!
He reminded on the chair, wiping with his right hand over his brow while his eyes were fixed on the young man in front of him. He had never liked the young watcher, but at this particular moment he almost hated him. Oh yes, he remembered the young man: they had met only one time, but it had been enough to built himself an opinion about the young watcher.
Several years ago, Lafiette had met Pierson at a watcher Christmas party. Lafiette had exchanged old stories with Felix Rheinhard, an old watcher friend he knew since graduation at watcher academy about 30 years ago, about their current assignments. Sometimes during the conversation, the topic had turned to Methos, about how the Oldest of all Immortals would very likely be. Lafiette was about to describe his opinion to his friend when he had accidentally looked in Pierson's direction, who stood only few meters away from them. There had been a very amused glimmer in the young watcher's eyes – apparently he had thought to know more about Immortals than the rest of the watchers... but this was a typical behaviour for bookworms like Pierson: never really having watched an Immortal by themselves, but thinking they knew all about them – absolutely typical!
Lafiette snorted in slight anger as he watched Pierson turn and then walk away, letting a stunned Joe Dawson behind him. Maybe it is after all a good thing that Joe Dawson owns a bar, Lafiette then thought, so I at least can drown this disappointment in alcohol – in very much alcohol!
When Pierson finally met Dawson again, Lafiette found himself recovered enough to follow them back to Dawson's bar, although the unpleasant feeling of disappointment was still burning very deeply in his heart.