Author's Note: Once again, enormous thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story so far. Your help has been crucial.

Methos left Joe's bar, angry at both himself and at the young slayer, who for some reason had gotten further under his skin than he ever realized. What the hell did it matter to him whether she wanted to fight or not? Caring about her feelings was Duncan's territory. If she didn't fight this immortal/vampire who knows what could happen to both their worlds? Why should her pain matter when it came down to all those lives that could potentially be lost if she should fall?

And yet it did matter. It mattered a lot. The look he saw on her face when she didn't think he was looking reminded him so much of himself, that it almost physically hurt. He didn't know precisely what it was she had done in her past, but he had the feeling it had to do with a lover. And he knew for a fact that she blamed herself. Anybody could tell, simply by looking at her that she took too much on. It was the curse of the slayer to feel personally responsible for what happened to those they loved. And of the watchers who guarded them…although some more than others.

He desperately wanted to know what had happened to her, but knew that using his watcher contacts to pry into her past would destroy any trust she may consider placing in him. But they were running out of time. Methos knew from what Joe had told him that the immortal/vampire that attacked them before would be back and when that happened, he would not allow another blunder. He couldn't always be around to protect her, but the idea that he should watch another slayer die was unacceptable.

Rounding the corner, he tripped over something in the middle of the sidewalk, then stopped to see what it was. He drew in a breath as he took in the site of a dead young woman lying on the sidewalk with her throat slit. He looked around, trying to get a glimpse of whoever it was that had been responsible. He saw nobody, but after a few seconds he began to feel the immortal buzz. He recognized it instantly as the buzz of the immortal/vampire that had attacked the slayer earlier.

Within seconds, the man stepped out of the shadows, smiling at first, but then his smile dropping as he noticed it was Methos and not the slayer.

"I thought you'd be her."

"Sorry, I gave up cross dressing centuries ago." He smirked. "I make a terrible woman."

"Your sarcasm does not amuse me." The immortal/vampire sneered. Methos shrugged.

"Yea, well I guess that's why my career as a standup comic never took off." He retorted. He glanced at the dead woman. "This your work?"

"A present." The immortal/vampire replied. "I thought the slayer would be exiting the bar. I had her all prepared for her."

"What the hell do you want?" Methos growled, hating the level of evil he could see in this man's eyes.

"What do you think?" The man replied. "You're immortal like me, I presume you know the legend. I want her blood. It's the last thing I need to complete my power. But she seems to want to hide."

"So this was meant to draw her out?" Methos couldn't keep the disgust from his voice. The man grinned.

"I planned on letting them pile up outside your door, but I haven't got any ribbon to wrap them in." He shrugged. "And now you've gone and ruined the surprise."

"Well, I'm truly sorry for that." Methos replied in a tone that said anything but.

"Perhaps I will have to settle for your headless body at her doorstep." The man said, advancing on Methos. He backed up, hating himself as he did so. "You think she'll come out of hiding then?"

"She doesn't care about me," Methos told him. "We're barely even acquaintances. My death won't break her heart."

"Why are you so eager to protect her then?" The man wondered. "You're a terrible liar Adam Pierson."

"You have me at a disadvantage," Methos said, not even slightly threatened by the fact that the immortal/vampire seemed to know his fake immortal persona. "You know my name, but I have yet to learn yours."

"Alexander Klossen not that it matters," the man said with a shrug. "And you haven't answered my question. Why are you so eager to protect this slayer? Why not give her up to me? I'd let you stand at my right hand once I receive my power. I can see it in your eyes Pierson, you're a man who enjoys power."

"And you're a man who is clearly insane." Methos replied. "But I'd prefer not to get picky. Thanks for the offer, but I'll stick to the side that doesn't put me in a room with rubber walls."

"And the slayer?" Klossen prompted.

"I'm a great humanitarian." Methos said simply.

"You're a foolish creature," Klossen spat.

"Look, are you going to kill me or talk me to death?"

"I have a better idea," Klossen said, a determined glint in his eyes. He advanced on Methos, sword at the ready. Methos raised his sword to fight back, fully determined that if he should fall this day it would be with a sword in his hand, the way any immortal was supposed to go. He'd had a fair run. His only regret was not having one last beer before the end.