2)

Richie sat on the floor, watching his friend and mentor handling his katana. MacLeod was doing some complicated fighting exercises. Richie followed every move he made to establish if he could do that too. He realized he had to practice a lot more if he ever wanted to become as good as the highlander.

Richie had walked in the dojo about fifteen minutes ago. He had wanted to talk to Mac, but the man's facial expression told Richie he shouldn't interrupt his workout. Mac was in a very bad mood, he would have a short fuse right now. He wondered if Methos had known this.

After what seemed to have been an eternity, Mac finally put his sword down and took a seat at one of the benches at the other end of the room. He looked at Richie for the first time today and gave him a weak smile.

Richie tried to smile back. 'Hey.'

Mac got to his feet again and dried his sweating body with a towel. 'What are you doing here?'

Maybe just dropping by a friend, Richie thought. He didn't say it though, Mac wouldn't fall for the lie. 'Methos called. He was wondering what you were doing.'

'Are you Methos' messenger boy now?'

'Oh come on!' This wasn't fair and Mac knew it. 'What's wrong anyway?'

'He didn't tell you that?' The Scot didn't believe him, but it was true. Methos had told Richie there was some situation, and that Macleod wasn't taking it very well. If he could stop by to make sure he was still in town?

Richie hadn't even known the ancient immortal had his number. But he had done as asked, curious what was going on. 'No Mac, Methos didn't tell me anything. He just told me to stop by and hung up on me.'

'Sounds like Methos,' Mac snorted.

'If you say so.' Richie got to his feet too, his neck started hurting from looking up. 'So what's going on?'

'Remember the woman who was with me the other night?'

He wouldn't be able to forget that night. Especially the fight, but he also vividly remembered his shock when there had been another to him unknown immortal in the bar. 'You mean the immortal one?'

'Yes. She's dead.'

Dead? That definitely explains the bad mood. 'How?' Realizing that was not the best way to put it, there is only one way, Richie said it different. 'I mean, who was it?'

Mac gave him a meaningful look. 'According to Joe, there are no other immortals in town.'

Richie knew that wasn't true, he had felt the man's sword against his throat. But it didn't make any sense this man killed Mac's friend. The man had let him live, so why kill the woman? But on the other hand, who did it if it hadn't been that guy. It hadn't been him or Mac, and by what he knew about Methos it was unlikely the old man had done it.

Anyway, Mac believed it had been the immortal he had encountered the same night. If this was not true, the other man would say so. 'The watchers don't know him?'

Mac was changing clothes. He didn't even look up while answering. 'No.'

So that meant Joe wouldn't be able to help him. 'So what are you gonna do, walk around town in the hope you'll accidentally run into him? Assuming he is still in Seacouver.'

Dressed, Mac put on his coat and took his katana from the floor. 'Optimistic, are you?'

Come on, what else could he do? 'Realistic.'

Mac gave him an angry look and walked to the door. Why couldn't he just say where he was going, Richie hated to ask. 'Where are you going?' he asked anyway.

Mac turned and gave him a fake grin. 'Walk around town to see if I accidentally run into him.'

Great, just great! 'Be careful not to lose your head!' Richie yelled after him. He doubted it would help, but at least he had tried.

__________

'Joe Dawson?'

Joe looked up to the man who called his name. He stood only three feet away, which made Joe ashamed he hadn't seen him come in. The man was in his mid-thirties and although his long coat was hiding most of his body, he had an athletic appearance. The man's attitude made Joe believe he was here on business; working for the city or a door-to-door salesman.

'Yes, can I help you?'

The man laughed. 'You weren't that friendly over the phone.' He offered Joe his hand, which made it possible for Joe to see the tattoo. 'I'm Michael de Wind.'

Bridger's Watcher, Joe realized. He had never met the guy, he had never been to Amsterdam, the city Bridger used to live. He also didn't look like a watcher, his clothing was too neat.

'Joe accepted the hand, although he was really angry with this man. He gestured him to come to the back and Randy to take the bar. 'I had no reason to be nice, still don't.'

De Wind followed Joe and loosened his coat. 'I understand you're not happy.'

Joe slowly lowered himself on his chair. The man seemed to regret what happened and Joe didn't know what exactly had happened, so he decided to give the man a chance. 'Tell me what happened.'

De Wind sighed. 'My car broke down.'

Joe remembered that night had been a rainy one, Richie had been soaked, so that wouldn't have been pleasant.

'When I finally found her back, it had taken me an hour to fix my car, she was dead.'

'How did you find her then?' Joe wondered.

'Pure coincidence.' The other Watcher took a seat. 'I had completely lost her so I returning to my hotel. On my way I spotted the quickening and I decided to take a look.'

'You recognized a quickening on a rainy and stormy night?'

'It was open terrain.'

'Still, you were lucky.'

De Wind shrugged. 'If you can missing your assignment last fight after following her for nine years call lucky.'

That was a point Joe completely understood. Following an immortal was something as a life's work. Missing "the final" is sour.

'Do you have any idea who it was?' Bridger's Watcher asked. 'I mean, you must know the local immortals.'

'That's the weird thing,' Joe answered. 'There is no one in town who should be considered.'

'And no new arrivals?'

'Just your girl.' That was not completely true, Methos had also arrived, but there was no way Joe was going to tell this to this guy.

'Than we might never know.' A somber observation, which could very well be true. But there was one joker in the game: Duncan MacLeod.

'Maybe.' Joe got up, there was nothing left to say. 'Going back to Amsterdam?'

'In a couple of days.' The man smiled. 'Although I could have picked the wrong city, I really need some vacation.'

Joe sat down behind the bar again. 'Seacouver is nice, if you know the right places.'

The man did not answer but took a look over his shoulder. Joe saw Riche come in and immediately look at the Watcher. De Wind turned back to Joe. 'I hope to find out.'

The man seemed rushed now; he immediately walked to the door. He wanted to pass Richie, but the young immortal stopped. 'What are you doing here?'

What the hell was Richie doing? Joe didn't get it, yet, but he was determined to find out what was going on.

'What do you care?' the Dutchman replied. He stared down Richie, who in the end stepped aside to let the other man pass. Richie watched the man until he was completely out of sight.

'What was that about Rich?'

'What was he doing here?' Richie asked a question on his own, avoiding Joe's question.

Joe didn't know if it was a good idea to answer that one, Richie was an immortal. But the younger man's facial expression told Joe it was important. 'He was Bridger's Watcher.'

'Watcher?' Richie was stunned.

'Yeah, why?' Joe was really curious now.

'That was the immortal I ran into the other day.'

__________

Menes cursed. This was a typical case of bad luck. His time with the Watchers was over now. He had known he wouldn't be able to keep his cover for long, but he had hoped he would have been a Watcher for a little while longer. Too bad he couldn't, but he could deal with it. He had done that for three thousand years.

Methos had told him an immortal named Duncan MacLeod was after him for Anne's death. On the question on what grounds MacLeod based his suspicion his old friend had answered MacLeod was the mentor of Richie Ryan, a young immortal. He hadn't needed Methos to finish, Richie Ryan must have been the biker he encountered the night Anne Bridger had died.

Before his visit to the bar, Menes had decided he should disappear. He wasn't afraid of MacLeod, he wasn't afraid of anyone, but he had wanted to avoid a fight with a friend of Methos. But there was no reason he should hurry his departure, at least he had thought there wasn't. He could go to the congress he was supposed to visit, the same congress Anne was supposed to visit too but now couldn't because of obvious reasons, and solve the matter with the Watchers.

But to do this, he had to go to Joe Dawson, the most important Watcher in town who had MacLeod as his assignment. From rumors Menes knew he was close to MacLeod, but Dawson couldn't know he was immortal so he wouldn't run much risk. Of course there always was a chance he would run into MacLeod, but he had thought this was unlikely to happen. But he absolutely hadn't counted on the fact he would run into a man who "knew" him: Richie Ryan.

If Dawson was close to MacLeod, he probably would be close to the student too. Menes could kill himself for not realizing this. Now he had been made. Dawson had noticed Ryan's reaction to him and would ask the man what was going on. Ryan would probably tell him, and even worse, MacLeod. It would be a matter of time before the immortal would be on his back. The only good thing was that Menes hadn't told Dawson what he was really doing in this town and where he was staying. But he thought it wouldn't be hard to find out, certainly not for an experienced Watcher as Joe Dawson.

Now Menes was stuck with a problem. If MacLeod would keep believing he killed his friend he could follow Menes all over the planet for centuries. And now he wouldn't be able to use the Watcher records to avoid contact with other immortals.

The best solution would be if he could convince MacLeod he didn't do it. But that probably wouldn't be as simple as it sounds. Maybe Methos could help. But Menes didn't have a good feeling about that. Methos hadn't told him everything about this situation. His old friend was a great if not the best liar but they went so far back Menes had caught it. At the time he had thought it wouldn't be important. Guess he had been wrong. And now he couldn't completely trust his old buddy, Methos seemed to have his own agenda.

So he had to solve this on his own. He would leave Seacouver tomorrow. But first he would do a final attempt to make this problem disappear. Because attack is the best form of defense, right?

__________

'Geez MacLeod, take it easy!'

But Duncan wasn't going to take it easy. As soon as Methos had opened his door he had grabbed the old man's collar and pushed him inside the apartment. Still holding him, he kicked the door shut and forced Methos to sit on the couch. 'You need Richie to do your dirty work now huh?' Duncan growled.

Methos gave him the perfect innocent look. 'Oh come one MacLeod! You were some kind of unguided missile. I had hoped Richie would get some sense into you.'

'And you couldn't do that yourself?' Duncan asked. He didn't believe a word of what the old man said. Methos often had his own reasons for things, bringing him into contact with Kronos so he could fight him was only one example.

'I was busy.'

'You were busy!' Duncan couldn't believe it. 'Doing what?'

'Cleaning.'

Only now MacLeod noticed the vacuum cleaner and the bowl with water. Methos wasn't lying, but it was no excuse for sending Richie over.

Duncan was just thinking if putting his katana on Methos' throat would help him getting answers when Methos' phone rang.

'Do you mind?' Methos asked. Duncan let go off him so he could answer his phone.

'Adam Pierson.' Duncan noticed Methos glanced at him. 'Yeah, got it. See you in ten minutes Joe.'

Methos scooped his jacket from a chair and walked to the door. 'Are you coming?'

Sometimes Duncan really couldn't believe that guy.

___________

'So, what's up?' Methos said cheerfully.

There couldn't be a bigger contrast between those two immortals. Methos seemed relaxed, cheerful and not worried about anything. Mac looked worried and pissed as hell. Joe thought that when he had told them what he knew, Mac would be even angrier and Methos would be worried.

Joe pulled four beers and put them on a tray. Richie took it while Joe rounded the counter. The other three men were already seated when he finally reached the table. This was one of the things Joe disliked, but had learned to live with.

Richie gave him a look. After Michael de Wind had left, Joe had dug into the guys files. Richie had been there, so he knew what he was about to say.

'I got paid a visit by Anne Bridger's Watcher, Michael de Wind.' The fact he had named the man's name should ring a bell with MacLeod, because usually he would never reveal a Watcher's name.

'You must know him,' Joe said, looking in Methos' direction. 'According to his file, he was a friend of Don's.'

Methos flinched, which almost made Joe smile. Usually it was hard to get a reaction from the old man. Now he had something on Methos, something MacLeod wouldn't appreciate when he found out his friend had been hiding it. 'Of course I met him,' Methos reluctantly replied. He probably realized there was no point in denying it.

'And you knew he was Bridger's Watcher,' Joe continued.

Methos silently nodded, admitting it was true.

'What is the point Joe?' Mac was getting impatient.

'Come on Methos, you tell him.' Joe it was mean, but he didn't feel sorry for Methos at all. The man had also lied to him.

Methos sighed. 'Michael de Wind, as you call him, is an immortal.'

'The very same immortal I encountered that night,' Richie added.

'What!' It was impossible to tell who was on his feet faster, Methos or MacLeod. But Methos didn't succeed in getting away from the other man. MacLeod grabbed him by his pullover and violently slammed him against the counter. 'You knew who it was and you didn't tell me?'

Methos shook his head. 'Mac, it wasn't him!'

'You can't know that!' Mac dropped Methos on the floor (this did make Joe feel sorry for him, it looked like it hurt) and left the bar.

Methos got to his feet and gave Joe a nasty look. 'Thanks a lot Joe! Thanks a lot.'

'Come on Methos! You should have told him,' Joe said accusingly.

Methos nodded. 'I know.'

'What makes you so convinced it wasn't him anyway?' Richie asked. Joe realized Richie really wanted to know everything about this guy, the man had beaten him after all.

'Would you believe me if I would accuse MacLeod?' the older immortal answered the question with another question.

That wasn't fair. Joe knew Mac and Richie weren't just friends, and Methos knew this too. 'That's different!'

Methos laughed scornfully. 'What do you know about that!'

Methos grabbed his coat, but made time to finish his beer. When he was gone he had left two confused men. Joe sighed. What a mess!

__________

Duncan was furious. He could Methos keep such a thing from him. Sure, he had always known the old man had his secrets. And a couple of weeks ago he had been confronted with the man's dark past with the four horsemen. But he had never thought the 5000 years old would let him down on something like this.

It had taken him all his self-control not to take his katana and teach him a lesson. But Methos would know what he had done, Duncan would show him sometime in the future.

He sped through traffic, back to his dojo. Duncan knew he was upset, too upset to be able to think straight. Maybe a demanding workout would calm him down. Exhaustion can do such things to you.

He parked his car and made his way to his place. Just when he had entered the building, he felt the buzz. Duncan immediately froze. He had just left both Methos and Richie, and he had probably broken the speed record from Joe's to his place, so it definitely wasn't one of them. SO who was it?

Amanda? It was the only person he knew who could show up unexpectedly like this. But the last time he had seen her was in France, and she had told him she intended to stay there for a while. This made Duncan believe it wasn't her.

And if it was her anyway, she would forgive him for this. He firmly took hold of his katana and resolutely entered the dojo. 'I'm Duncan MacLeod from the clan MacLeod!'

The man waiting inside leaned untroubled against the wall. He grinned, evidently not impressed by the little performance. 'So I was told.'