Chapter Nine
Niebos, Greece:

The warm sea breezes of Niebos welcomed Eleanor home in a way no other place ever would. She'd never truly lived here… nor would she ever. Her home was wherever Methos was… but she still thrilled as she set foot on the stone docks once more.

The high-altitude trans-Atlantic flight between Washington D.C. and Athens had been short… far shorter than the ferry ride from Athens to Niebos. J.D. had raced about the ferry… trying to see everything that could be seen. He'd point out the dolphins swimming alongside and laugh at their antics.

As Eleanor descended the gangplank with Marianna in her arms, a bag over her shoulder, accompanied by J. D. who was dragging a somewhat larger bag, she was struck by the age-old familiarity of the island. It had been two and a half years since they'd been here but it might have been two and half centuries so little had changed in all the time she'd been coming here. Even still, Marianna likely would have no memories of the people here or of this place… but J. D. would.

Eleanor was surprised, therefore, when as Phillip approached, Marianna squirmed from her mother's arms and ran swiftly to the Greek.

"Opa!" she laughed as he gathered her into his arms and hugged her tightly. She remembered him… he was her other parent, after all.

"Look at you… look at how you've grown!" Phillip said to the little girl in his arms, even as he offered Eleanor his cheek and tousling the dark hair on J. D.'s head. "Welcome! I have rooms ready and the others are waiting. I had to put my foot down to keep some of them from coming with me."

"It wouldn't have mattered," Eleanor added with a smile… falling into step beside him. She glanced back at J. D. "Can you manage or do you want some help?"

"I'm fine… I can do it!" Methos had admonished him to look after his mother and sister. The boy was determined to do just that. He held his head proudly in the mantle of his new responsibility.

"Let me know if you need a rest," Phillip added. "We're in no hurry and the path is steep." He grinned at Eleanor with a wink. "So… Derrick is one of us after all," Phillip sighed. "I found myself hoping he wouldn't be… that he'd get to have that single life he wanted so badly."

"Apparently. I take it he didn't contact you either?"

"No… that boy always had his eye set on something we never saw. Maybe this is just the next step."

"But without guidance…" Eleanor's voice trailed away. She was worried about Derrick. Even though the picture on the fax had been that of a grown man, it was still the boy she saw in her mind's eye. Either the terrified six-year-old boy huddled beneath a highway overpass… or the ten-year-old lying half-dead in a hospital bed… or the eighteen-year-old she'd bid a sad farewell to. The idea that he was physically now older than she was… even physically older than Methos was… did not seem real to her.

Phillip's free arm curled about her shoulders like the proverbial big brother he always seemed to be. "He's fine. He's likely still gazing about and wandering and wondering as he contemplates his future and tries to find his place in the scheme of things."

Eleanor nodded, but she didn't really feel comforted.

Later after the meet and greet with Grace Chandel, John Kirin, Greg Powers and the small ones still on the island, as well as a nod to Douglas Monaghan… the latest Watcher in residence here… a bath and a meal… Eleanor settled on the terrace to watch Denara playing blocks with Marianna. In the distance… Chou and Denis had been dragged into a game of catch with J. D. The boy knew of immortals… and had handled with cool aplomb, that while he'd grown in two and a years… the other two hadn't. He seemed fine with it, every inch his father's son. His laughter rang out in the semi-darkness.

Denara seemed a bit peeved at and yet a bit indulgent of Marianna's attention… the two were of a similar physical age… but Denara knew so much more. Phillip settled down in a chair next to Eleanor.

"I was surprised she remembered me," he said indicating Marianna.

"So was I," Eleanor replied sipping her wine.

Both of her children had been born here. J. D. because Methos had wanted them with Grace in case the one-time immortal mid-wife might be more clear-headed in the delivery of his son than he'd be. And second because he'd wanted Eleanor's last few months of pregnancy… when she'd shown and was so vulnerable… to be someplace out of the way… someplace safe.

Unlike the whirlwind development that had been Alisaunne… with her immense power and needs… J. D. had taken not quite nine months to put in an appearance once they'd decided that they indeed wanted this child. That he was the final gift and apology of the last of Darius' quickening that had remained with Derrick… an attempt by the priest to make up for what he'd done in forcing Alisaunne's creation from them and then taking her from them, keeping her existence a secret… had made him even more special. J. D. was their chance to have a normal life… at least for a while. He was also to be the proof that someday all immortals could have children. Darius' letters concerning Alisaunne were not proof. She was too much just another immortal… and there was still her blood bond with Nestor that might yet corrupt her entirely. J. D., on the other hand, was a harbinger of a far-off future that with patience and hard-work might one day arrive.

Eleanor smiled when she recalled Methos' objections about another child… that it was too soon and too unnecessary.

"We need to show that it can be done the way it was intended… without magical gifts from the dead. And this time there will be three of us throughout the process. Phillip will help. He's already agreed."

The three of them had gone to the cove one night as the tide was on its way out. They'd stood on the rocks and Phillip had pointed out the chained form of Valeraine… Nestor… below the water's surface. "I come out here everyday at low tide to check on her… to talk to her. Even though she's dead and drowned… she might still hear me… I pray some remnant of her remains… and that one day she can be free."

Then, as the sea-spray sparkled in the light of the full moon and the waves crashed around them… the three had embraced, fully open to and wishing to share all they were and all they had become. And the flash had happened as some part of Phillip's essence had triggered in Eleanor and Methos the ability to once more conceive a child. All three were in agreement. All three would help raise and care for the child. All three would be the parents. Phillip had kissed Eleanor's brow as he splashed away through the water, leaving the lovers to what must next happen.

Behind him, Methos was already bending her onto the rock ledge… consumed with his need for her… as she was for him. As the waters rose… on the sacred holy ground of the ancient oracle of Niebos… they'd made love. Later he'd carried her to the beach where they'd continued until the water of the incoming tide had begun to splash over them.

"It's a girl," she'd laughed.

Methos had held a hand over her abdomen and smiled. All doubt about what they were attempting gone. She'd felt the new life take hold and pull some of his life force into it.

"May she be as endearing as her mother," he'd said.

They'd had to climb the steep stairs carved from the stone cliff after that as the beach path had been under water by that time. Above in the ruins of the old temple complex… in what had been the oracle's private chamber according to Phillip… they spent the night under the moon and stars…

"Should we name her Aja? Or perhaps Danaë" Methos had asked.

"There was only one Aja. Let me think on it for a while. I have nine months to decide." She'd settled on Marianna… a form of Mary… one of the names she'd used frequently over the centuries… and Phillipa… for Phillip without whose help their daughter would not exist.

And Phillip's contribution had continued throughout the pregnancy and even after Marianna had been born and laid in his eager arms. He'd supplied the growing infant with much of what he was… while Methos had endeavored to heal and lend strength to Eleanor. Her husband had been terrified the entire time that she'd die… and much of what he was… was shared with her, strengthening the bond between them.

They'd left here once Marianna was old enough to be without Phillip. Like J. D. and like Alisaunne before them… the children born of immortal unions needed far more than just food and drink. They were like sponges soaking up the power of the immortals they were around. J. D. had already learned to heal by the time they'd left here a few years ago. Marianna was still vulnerable… yet her presence was staggering at times. She was a magnet for other immortals. Thus… Methos had sent them here until he could be with them again. Eleanor had understood his concern… and had no argument… though she might have wished to be with him on his quest. Their children's needs came first.

Thinking about these two young ones… made Eleanor think about her lost child… Alisaunne. Fully immortal and a part of the game… she was truly safe only in the secret grove in Paris. The further she roamed from it… or from Paris and the site of the Ancient Ones' burial at the well there… the more susceptible to Nestor's thoughts she became.

She was not allowed on Niebos at all anymore. She'd come once… before J. D. was born, and had nearly gone mad attempting to find and release Nestor. MacLeod had taken her back to Paris. He and Amanda kept an eye on her although they currently lived in Florence. Cassandra had also spent time with Eleanor's daughter, evidently sharing tricks on how to control psychic visions and otherworldly perceptions of the universe. Alisaunne was not psychic, nor was she gifted with sight the way Cassandra was… but she did seem to know and not know things… and there were times that her visions of Nestor and his perversions were all that she knew.

At present, Alisaunne continued to live at the grove in Paris, and worked at translating the writing on the stone walls of the pre-historic cavern hidden beneath the remains of St. Julien Le Pauvre, Darius' old church. She was as obsessed with that place… as Darius had ever been. Watchers did not know about the grove and its secrets or about Alisaunne's identity. All they knew was that she was an immortal… likely the last one to be in the game… and that she lived in Paris. She had an apartment on Rue Monge… but she was seldom there.

She was also known to sometimes hunt the night for immortals she perceived of as evil. According to the last reports… she'd taken over a dozen heads in the last twelve years. She wasn't overly active… but was far more so than Eleanor had ever been. They had little in common. Except perhaps in their love of Darius. And even that was always difficult for them to discuss. He'd been so different to each of them. He'd meant different things… and he'd deceived them both. Eleanor had made her peace with his lies… her daughter had not.

Ian's death still troubled Alisaunne. She felt responsible… believing that if she'd been faster… moved differently… she might have prevented it. Ian's quickening inside her gave her little comfort. It was simply there… like the comatose immortals cared for on Niebos. No matter what Grace had told her… that if Ian had lived that he'd likely have been as the others were… did anything to ease her mind. Alisaunne burned darkly with Ian's loss… and her hatred of Watchers was also well known. Amy kept her people far from Alisaunne in hopes that no one would provoke the young immortal. If she attacked their assignment… they were to take note of it and leave. They were not to approach her nor attempt to follow her. So far no mortals had died… but Eleanor often felt that it was only a matter of time.

The last time Methos had attempted to meet with her had nearly proven disastrous. Eleanor still shuddered at the memories of that. She hadn't been there… but she'd seen it through their bond… as well as his sharing it with her later. No… Alisaunne was better left to others.

As if he were aware of her on his side of the world… Methos touched her mind… softly… wishing he were there.

You are doing what you must! Bring him back to me! Find him for me! she'd sent brightly. She blew him a mental kiss and withdrew laughing. He did not need to be focused on her fears and unhappiness. He needed to find Derrick, and to remain safe so that he could return to his family.

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St. Louis, MO:

Extricating himself and Jayne from the attentions of Sarah Manning had proven difficult. When they'd finished dinner and were set to leave, she'd asked where they were staying.

"Just passing though," Methos had groused. Trouble was… he was tired and had planned on grabbing a room and a night's sleep before pushing on west. He was also beginning to wish he'd chanced the air travel.

"Really? Which way you headed?" Sarah's voice peaked in interest.

"North… We're headed north. Chicago," he'd said quickly… possibly a bit too quickly. Jayne's eyes widened slightly in surprise… but she said nothing.

"Oh… too bad," Sarah said as she signed her charge slip. Methos had not offered to pay for her food. "Well… next time then." Sarah had walked out with them and then waved good-bye cheerily as she crossed the lot to her car.

"Old friend?" Jayne teased as they headed to his.

"Don't start!" Methos grumbled. His affair with Sarah was not something he wanted to think about… nor one of the events he'd wanted on his chronicle. His time in San Francisco at the dawn of the twentieth century was one of the gaping holes in what the Watchers knew. He wanted to keep it that way.

Once re-buckled into the Centaur, Jayne had refused to let it drop, however. "So… does Eleanor know about her?"

Methos started the ignition saying nothing.

"I thought you two shared everything?"

"We do." He shifted the ignition and pulled slowly out of the lot.

"And are we going to Chicago?"

"No… but I need to start out as if we are and then find a room for the night."

"Two rooms."

He shot her a sharp glance and then chuckled as he laughed. "Right… two rooms."

North of St. Louis he found a mid-range hotel that was evidently hosting a convention of some sort. It had rooms available, however. He rented two using the Adam Pierson identity… across and down the hall from one another… and had settled into his for the evening when he felt an immortal in the hall and heard the knock at his door.

It was Sarah. He peered through the security peephole and saw her standing in the hall with a bottle of champagne in one hand and a smirk plastered across her face. She opened her coat as if to show she was unarmed.

"I know I'm going to regret this," the ancient immortal mumbled as he unlocked and opened the door a crack. "It's late. I'm not in the mood for company."

"You act as if you have company when I know your friend is down the hall. That's not like you Ben… or Adam… or Eden or whatever you're really using these days."

Methos raised one eyebrow. How the hell does she know about Eden? He'd only used that one once in the past century. He stepped to one side and opened the door widely. "I have a feeling if I don't at least talk to you, you'd stand in the hallway and create a scene."

Sarah sauntered into the room provocatively and winked as she passed. "Clever boy."

Methos let the door close behind him. He crossed his arms before him. "So what do you wish to discuss?"

"Ooh… right to business. You never used to be so abrupt." She peeled the foil from the champagne and popped the cork, grabbing two of the glasses from the tray on the desk and pouring the bubbly. She offered him a glass. Methos didn't take it.

"Get to the point."

Sarah drank hers down swiftly. She'd drunk that way even back when he'd known her. Pouring another glass for herself she seemed to consider what she wanted to say. Finally she asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"That you had the potential to be immortal? That I was immortal?" Methos shook his head. "It doesn't work that way. If you've been around for the last century you should know that."

"Oh… I know. But… why didn't you kill me?" She stepped closer to him. He could smell her musky perfume.

"I don't kill pre-immortals."

"Well the next immortal I met had no such scruples. Do you have any idea what it was like to be strangled to death and then to wake up in a coffin?" She turned sharply and stalked to the sofa, dropping onto it heavily. She leaned forward. "Thankfully it was still on a wagon with several others. I climbed out and figured there had been some mistake. I had no idea what had happened! When I went back to the house… the other girls were terrified of me. They'd been to my funeral. They'd seen my dead body."

Methos looked off into the distance… his eyes unfocused. He nodded as if to say he understood.

"I could have used a friend."

"I'd already left San Francisco by then."

"Yeah. Well… the immortal who'd killed me… showed up later the same night and explained things. At least that he'd made me immortal and would keep me immortal or kill me depending on whether or not I pleased him. Do you have any idea what that was like?" Her accusatory tone made Methos blanche slightly.

"Yes… I do." His voice was low… his words barely audible.

"Anyway… long story short… I finally extricated myself from him after a few years and found a teacher. I never gave you another thought until I saw you on stage in 1970 with the Rolling Stones… you were some kind of a music promoter or something and you were making an announcement from the stage during an intermission. You felt me. You finished up and raced backstage… and… as I later found out… vanished. Eden Peyton was gone as if the earth had swallowed him up. But…" she grinned. "I pretended to be Scotland Yard and interviewed your friends and co-workers. That little pink-haired girl… Candy… was especially gushing in her praises of you."

"Old news. An old life." Methos shrugged. He'd been bored with that life and fully prepared to leave that night once he'd finished his job at the concert. But when he'd felt an immortal in the audience… he'd made quick work of it and had vanished as she had said. As for Candy… Methos chuckled. He remembered her fondly.

"Well… I was floored. You'd been an immortal when you were with me… and you'd said and done nothing. I just always wondered why?" She set the empty glass on the coffee table along with the bottle and stood… stepping close to him once more. She gazed sadly into his gray eyes… "Was I not interesting enough? Creative enough? Beautiful enough?" She raised her face and there was no doubt what she wanted.

Methos shook his head. "I'm married."

"So? You were then, too. As I recall… your wife had left you. Besides…" her fingers lightly touched his left hand. "I see no ring." She looked around with a smile. "I see no wife. In fact… I see no one here but you and me." She laid one hand lightly on his chest, slipping a finger around a button and tugging. "She doesn't have to know."

Methos shook his head and chuckled as he took her hand and patted it before dropping it. "Trust me. She knows." He'd been feeling an amused Eleanor over his shoulder chuckling at his discomfort for some time. He turned toward the door. "Now if there's nothing else… it's time you left."

Behind him Sarah sighed audibly. "If you insist," she said with dejection.

Methos opened the door as she approached. Sarah paused and turned toward him suddenly leaning against him as she placed one hand between his legs and squeezed, smiling at his response. "But we could be so good together. If she's mortal… she'll grow old and die. I have time on my side and I can wait. And if she's immortal…" Sarah's smile widened, "… you'll eventually move on. You always do. I'll find you again… Ben… or Eden… or Adam… or whoever." She kissed him lightly, he hand squeezing him harder, and then she stepped back. "Ta!" she smirked as she sauntered through the door.

Methos let it close behind her, this time putting the security bolt on as he leaned with his back against the closed door.

"That was fun," he smirked.

Eleanor seemed to laugh. Then he could feel her. His little adventure had fully awakened her. In the early dawn light of Niebos, she seemed to stretch in her bed and lay one small hand on Marianna, as if to be certain she slept. Then he could feel Eleanor against him… next to his skin… flowing over him. Her lips brushed his and her fingers traced patterns on his bare skin. Methos closed his eyes and reached for her mentally… doing the same. She was with him… he was not alone. Not unless he wished it. And he most definitely did not.

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