Chapter Twenty-Two
Niebos:

A warm breeze filtered into the room, so that a few strands of Eleanor's black hair fluttered before it. She lay entangled in his arms and legs… eyes closed with a smile across her face. Methos slowly ran one hand down her side and laughed as she rubbed her leg across his. For a moment… the unity flared and they shared a memory of a the past… then it faded.

Methos pondered again that he had fought against this for so long… the idea that two immortals could share a life so completely, that each knew the deepest secrets of the other. Perhaps his reluctance was his not wanting anyone to ever know the things he'd done in his long past… the man he'd been. But the man he now was… grew from that other time… and Eleanor knew each of them… and embraced them both.

He found it comforting that his memories of his life lived in her… as hers did in him. In the years since they'd performed the bond… they'd come to know one another intimately. Yet even now, if the symbols joined in their lovemaking in a new way… they still found forgotten memories. It was harder for her than it should have been… his long life likely the reason… and yet she explored them all with a fascination that astounded him. In many ways, she still reminded him of that shy and frightened child he'd first known… and the blossoming young woman who chose to marry him… a stranger… and then had insisted on a proper marriage… not one in name only.

When had he first known he loved her? Was it a day so like today, when he'd gazed on her and seen that time was carrying her away. If he could return to that day… what would he have done differently?

Eleanor laughed. "Strange thoughts."

"Am I so much an open book?"

She sighed and rolled over so that her back curled into his chest and his arms surrounded her… embracing her… protecting her. He kissed her neck… feeling a thrill go through him.

"Only to me… and only because you allow it," she whispered with a giggle.

"Keep my secrets," he whispered back.

"Trust me," she laughed.

He pulled her close and continued to run one hand lightly over her side… tracing patterns as he'd always done… letting out sharp little breaths of surprise when one of them touched one of the placed patterns so that he stood behind her as she mid-wifed… or danced… or raced barefoot through a field just for the sheer joy of it. Had he ever raced for joy through a field? Had he ever laughed aloud just to hear the sound of it… or observed some moment of nature in the knowledge that it would never come again?

"All I give you is cynicism, despair, and darkness. Yet you make my world sing," he said with a contented sigh.

"And you show me the panorama of civilization that I could never have appreciated otherwise."

He laughed, raising her small hand to his lips in wonder. He knew MacLeod and a few of the others who knew of this wanted it… but oh the perils. How many times had they considered killing one another over the centuries? How many times had they let their desires and personal agendas and needs… take precedence over love?

How was it possible they had come so far and changed so much in the past nineteen years… when for centuries… nothing had changed? He had kept his secrets… and she had kept her fears. A thought crossed his mind. "Where was J. D. this morning?"

"Fishing."

Methos wrinkled his nose. He hated fishing.

"I know," she laughed.

"Not fair speaking my emotions back to me," he teased and tickled her. She turned in his embrace until her face was inches from his and regarded him with those amazing green eyes.

"Phillip and the boys had planned the trip for days. I told J. D. to go on… that maybe you'd join them."

"Me?" Methos rolled onto his back as he recalled how much he really hated to fish.

She rose over him, her dark hair trailing on his chest. "It would mean so much to him. He misses you terribly. He's a boy… and while he can talk to me… there are guy things he needs to talk to you about."

"Guy things?"

She snickered.

"He's twelve!"

She kissed the tip of his nose. "And somehow it was easier with Derrick?"

Methos snorted. "Derrick was just another child I helped raise… but… "

"J. D. is really and truly yours… and you fear for him."

Methos looked at her sharply. "When did you get to know me so well?"

She snuggled onto his chest with a contented sigh. "Oh… it wasn't easy… you really don't like letting people in."

He snorted again, as his hands and fingers roamed over her. "Fishing… huh?"

"Just for a bit."

"Trying to get rid of me already?"

She laughed as her hands roamed over his chest and down. "Well… maybe not this very minute."

Methos laughed and pounced with a growl.

-----

J. D. slipped another piece of bait onto the hook and cast the line into the pool of water in the small saltwater inlet. Here where the water was calm in this protected tidal pool, Phillip had said fish were plentiful. He'd caught two already and felt a great deal of pride in his accomplishment.

Overhead the warm sun beat down on them, and small insects buzzed about the shore. J. D. considered dipping his head into the water to cool it off… but didn't for fear of startling a fish. Phillip had promised that he'd show him how to clean the fish later… and that the boys' catch would be the mainstay of dinner. Even his mom had said she'd take a bite… just to show her appreciation. His mother didn't as a rule eat meat, so J. D. wanted it to be special.

He heard gravel sprinkle down the small cliff and glanced up to see his father making his way down the path among the grasses of this small cove. J. D. raised a hand to wave enthusiastically.

His father reached the sand and brushed absently at the sand on the knees of his pants. Evidently he'd fallen at least once. J. D. snickered, wondering if his dad had ever camped out or lived off the land.

"Hey Dad," J. D. said.

"Your mother said you were fishing." His dad said the word as if it were distasteful somehow. "Like some company?"

"Sure. There's another pole," the boy pointed it out, but his father did not move for it. Instead he crouched down at the waterline and stared at the water.

He slapped his neck with a scowl as some insect landed there. J. D. laughed. His father shook his head.

"Mom said you didn't like to fish."

His father sighed. "Not one of my more pleasant memories."

"Did you fish when you were a boy?"

His father shook his head. "Not that I recall."

"Maybe that's why you don't like to… your dad never took you fishing," As soon as the retort slipped out, J. D. bit his lip. He hadn't meant to say that. But his dad was always so busy. Back home, he worked on some sort of history and while he was physically there, he often seemed distant… at least as far as J. D. could tell. It was like he was always worried about something. Then they'd come back to the island, and this time he hadn't come with them. Sure, J. D.'s mother had said that his dad was looking for someone and that it was important… but he was important too. He just wished his dad realized it.

"I grew up in a desert. I didn't have the advantage of an oceanfront resort."

J. D. nodded. He understood his dad was older than he looked. He'd been told about how some people are immortal and live forever. They'd had to tell him when he'd been curious about Chou and Denis. "How do you know?" he'd asked his parents. "You don't… unless you die. Most people just remain dead… a few awaken and never grow any older," his dad had said sadly.

J. D. had talked to the other boys about it some. They'd told him how hard it was, being so young, and alone in the world… but how much better things were now.

"Wouldn't it be cool if I was immortal, too?" J. D. had wished aloud.

"Not really," Chou had said with a shrug. "Especially now. There are so many things you'll get to experience in your short life that we never will."

They'd told him about a few things, and how much they both wished that they'd been grown before something had happened to them. J. D. had let the wish remain an idle one. After all… if he wasn't… he'd be dead… and his mother would cry. He didn't want to make her cry.

Just then his line became taught. "I got another one," he said with excitement and began to work the rod and reel to pull the fish in. "It's a big one!" he cried as it fought against him, twisting and racing beneath the water's surface in an attempt to be free.

J. D. could hardly contain himself. His dad would get to see him land a fish. He pulled the rod vertically and swiftly reeled up some more line before letting the rod lower. The fish continued to swim back and forth in the water, pulling at the line to escape. When the fish tired, J. D. repeated the procedure. Phillip had taught him all about working the line and tiring out the fish. Chou and Denis pumped the air… encouraging him. They knew what having his dad here meant to him.

His dad's phonecard beeped. He rose and looked at it curiously, shrugged and answered it… turning back toward the cliff. "Amanda?" That was all J. D. heard. He angrily jerked the rod and felt the line snap. The fish swam free.

"Awww… too bad J. D.," Denis said.

"Yeah, I thought you had him for sure," Chou added.

Phillip winked at him and then regarded his dad up on the shore. "Re-string a hook, J. D. You'll get him next time," Phillip encouraged.

J. D. went to work unsnarling his line and fixing on a new hook and some weights. On shore his dad was pacing back and forth. Finally he tapped the phonecard off and mimed throwing it into the ocean. Seldom had the boy seen such a dark glare on his father's face.

"What's up?" he heard Phillip ask as the Greek waded back to shore. The two men talked quietly a moment… in words that made no sense to the boy. Then his dad waved and trotted back over the dune to the road above.

J. D. tossed the rod into the water in frustration.

Phillip leaned over to pluck it from the ocean and hand it back. "Now you don't want to take it out on the rod. Your dad has obligations. He didn't want to leave… he had to."

"Yeah… sure," J. D. pouted. He took the rod back and waded back to shore where he sat pulling at the fouled line. "Glad to know I was worth a minute or so of his time."

"Your father loves you very much, J. D." Phillip admonished, but J. D. didn't think so. If his dad really loved him… he'd spend more time with him.

-----

Methos was fuming by the time he'd returned to the other side of the island. A hurriedly-dressed Eleanor met him on the path with his small overnight bag. He'd be lucky to make it to the afternoon ferry. "Bloody hell!" he complained as he reached her side.

He grabbed her hand, shouldered his bag, and pulled her along the path. "Why didn't they come talk to us?"

Taking two steps to one of his long strides, Eleanor hurried to keep up. "If someone had told us what was possible and then told us no…" she said haltingly.

"Someone did. Long ago," he replied, recalling his dreams of the ancient shaking her head. "They should have waited. Or at least proceeded with one of us there."

"We can't judge who is to benefit from this old knowledge. It's for all of us." She stopped short and regarded him impatiently.

He paused. "I know. But it so radically changes all we are… there is danger in opening Pandora's box too fast or too widely." He pulled her to him. "I do not regret what we have become… what we are… you know the truth of that. But understand, Eleanor, I fear for others who rush headlong into the future without understanding the past." He kissed her gently and then motioned at the ferry. "I have to go. I'll be back soon… I promise." He kissed her once more and then raced down the road to the dock and leaped onto the rising gangplank.

Eleanor chuckled, holding a hand before her mouth and watching him leave… again. She could still feel him his touch as if he were still here… holding her… kissing her… and in her mind… she could hear him whisper to her.

She'd made the mistake of checking her messages while he'd gone to join J. D. and the others fishing. Once she'd spoken with Amanda… she'd told her to call him. She only hoped J. D. understood. She worried about her son even more than she'd worried about Derrick. Derrick had always seemed to have a guardian angel looking over his shoulder, and she liked to think it was part of Darius' spirit that had watched him grow up and had kept him safe. But J. D. only had his parents… and she wondered what sorts of mistakes they were making with him. But like most parents, she supposed they were muddling through… doing the best they could. When the ferry vanished on the horizon, she made her way to the hospital. She might as well check on the patients as she suddenly had the afternoon free.

-----

Paris:

Duncan rang the bell at the Meyers' front door and stood waiting. Estelle, the housekeeper answered the door and showed him in.

"We were not expecting you back so soon, monsieur," she said. "Ah… Monsieur Dawson is in the garden."

"I can show myself back there, Estelle, merci," Duncan said with a warm smile as he stepped out into Amy's walled garden.

Joe looked up at him quizzically at first; then his trademark grin crossed the older man's face. "Mac!" He closed he book he'd been reading and laid it on the table. "Welcome back!"

"Am I still welcome?"

"You know better than that. I might not agree with you all the time… but we are still friends."

"Thanks Joe. Listen… I need a favor."

Joe sobered immediately. "Watcher favor?"

Duncan nodded slightly. "If it weren't urgent… I wouldn't ask."

Joe ran his tongue over his teeth and drew in a breath with a slight squeak. "I'm sure it is important. You can ask… I'll do what I can."

"I need to find Kate and Alistair Craille."

"Gave you the slip… did they," Joe snorted.

Duncan glared momentarily and then nodded. "I need to find them Joe. It's vital."

Joe motioned with his fingers for Duncan to follow him and steered his motorized chair into the house to Amy's office. He pulled a disk from the drawer and loaded it into the computer… typed a password… and the screen displayed a photo of Craille. Joe ran through the data. "The most recent entry is the other day at the tower… you remember… you helped him give his Watcher the slip."

"I need to know about properties he owns… places he might go."

Joe nodded… moved his cursor a few times up and down… highlighted some information and sent it to the printer. Duncan heard it operate on the far side of the room. He pulled the paper free and glanced at it the list of four properties. It was a start.

"You gonna tell me what's so all-fired important?" Joe barked as he shut the system down again.

Duncan folded the thin sheet of paper and put it in his coat pocket. "I can't today Joe… but I will soon… I promise you."

"This isn't about taking a guy's head is it?"

Duncan shook his head. "No Joe… nothing like that. I'll let myself out." As he left… he wondered how often he could presume on their friendship before Joe finally said, "No." "Trust me Joe," he said to himself, "this time… just trust me."

Stepping out into the street, he glanced up at the thin wisps of clouds high in the sky and prayed that somehow… he could make everything all right again. He'd find them before it was too late, and get them to safety. And then he would have bridges to mend… both with Joe and with Amanda. Hurriedly he climbed into his car and drove off.

Through the window, Joe watched him leave and considered putting a Watcher on him. Hell, he thought, Duncan MacLeod ought to have a Watcher on him! That he didn't was due to his "special" relationship with Joe himself. But if he was gonna keep secrets… maybe it was time. He pulled out his phonecard and ran his finger along the dial until Amy's work number was highlighted. He paused with his finger on the pad… and then snarled at himself as he shut it off and slipped it back into his pocket. "Damn!" he said aloud. "Feelin' sorry for myself that I can't do my job. Hell… I still can. I just gotta get creative." With a devilish grin… he wheeled to the computer and entered Amy's password. He still knew how to do a few things from here.

-----