Chapter Forty
Paris to London:

As Methos pulled into traffic, Robert remained quiet and solemn by his side. "I like your friends," Robert finally said. "For Watchers… they were like real people… no staring… no asking 'just what was it like during the French Revolution' and all that stuff." He chuckled and slid down, his eyes half-opened and a secretive smile playing over his lips.

Methos figured he was communing emotionally with Gina, exploring their link to one another. He recalled doing much the same as his with Eleanor had grown. So far the separation was working. Likely it would get stronger and then they would be eager to get back together… where they would have time to deal with all the idle thoughts… and stray comments that flitted through each other's minds. He felt the feather brush of Eleanor as she awakened. It tickled across his mind and was gone… just the sense that she was there and aware of his thinking of her. Twenty years had given them this independence to be balanced with their more intimate moments when they were totally immersed in one another. He hoped Gina and Robert would find this same level and live to see their four hundredth anniversary. Perhaps this would work out after all. It certainly would prove that the unity was for all of them… not a select few.

His main worry was MacLeod, and by extension Kate Devaney and Alistair Craille. Unless they were together and fully cognizant of everything that could happen, events would spiral out of control. He trusted that MacLeod was alive and knew this, but he wanted to be certain. He'd toyed last night after learning everything from Joe about contacting Amanda to confirm what he already was so certain of. But he'd decided against it for the moment. He'd check with her later today and see if she'd heard from MacLeod. As to the matter in Washington about Sarah Manning and the break-in at his home there, he would leave that to Burt Meyers' capable hands. All his presence there would do, would be to reveal his identity to Watchers not now in the know. Yes… most knew he was an immortal. His identity as Adam Pierson was on the books… but Amy Zoll had secured his identity as Methos under a need to know basis… and Joe's daughter had done the same when she'd taken over his files.

He had contacted his caretaker at the farm and learned that he'd found the break-in and had called the security number to report it. The security number was that of one of Methos' former field Watchers, who'd contacted Amy Meyers with the information and had quietly investigated. Methos and the caretaker had chatted a bit on the phone about the farm, the horses, and the broken frame, and he'd asked "Mr. Pierson" when he thought he'd be home. Methos had told him he wasn't certain… but that he'd acted correctly. "If anything else happens, contact the security people again," he'd told him and hung up shortly after that.

Craille had three estates in Great Britain… one in London, one in Manchester, and one in Glasgow. Since he was English to begin with, that wasn't surprising. Joe had offered to send Watchers to check the places out, but Methos had told him not to.

"Let me check on this. If I find MacLeod, I'll make certain he calls you." He didn't want the Watchers anywhere near Kate and Alistair until he'd checked the situation out. If he was wrong… then hell yes the Watchers could take care of them. But if he was right… he needed to get the couple and hopefully MacLeod as well… someplace safe and secure. They would need to vanish for a while. MacLeod had evidently known this when he'd managed to lose the Watchers in Paris. But had he managed to follow through on everything? Somehow Methos didn't think so.

Once again… he mentally cursed at MacLeod. He chuckled then, realizing that his discomfiture about things had more to do with how his personal plans were being impinged and not about what had happened. Most of the immortals who knew some of what was happening on Niebos looked to MacLeod and followed his lead. Methos was perfectly happy to remain in the background and utilize his Adam Pierson persona to protect both himself, and his family. He still feared what might happen if it became generally known who he was… how old he was.

Mentally he ticked off the immortals who did know… MacLeod, Amanda, Eleanor, Phillip, Greg Powers, John Kirin, Alisaunne, Grace and Cassandra. As far as he knew… they were the only ones who knew precisely that he was Methos. He smiled. They'd fudged his identity with the small ones. They might suspect… but they didn't know. The adults all called him Adam in their presence. There was, however, one more… and he trusted him… Derrick. He smiled at the thought of the young man whose first death and awakening as immortal had begun this adventure. He'd asked Amy if anything else had shown up about an unknown immortal, but there hadn't been anything that had crossed her desk. But Derrick was out there someplace… and he still hoped he could find him somehow… for Eleanor. But right now… there were no leads. It was best to concentrate on what he could do… swiftly… and then go home.

He hated not being there for J. D. when he awakened. Methos made a solemn vow to himself to spend more time with the boy. He feared telling him too much about immortals… but he didn't want to lie to him. He still needed to discover how to protect the children… and what purpose they might serve in the future… and whether they could be immortal without being a part of the game.

While he was deep in thought… the miles piled up and soon they'd descended to the Chunnel. The interspersed lights zoomed by as they traveled swiftly. Neither man talked, both seemed lost in thought and Methos actually found, at one point, that he was counting the lights as he sped past them.

Arising from the darkness of the Chunnel into the gray light of day once more was a relief from the numbing sameness of the tunnel. Both men blinked in the return of daylight and shifted as if awakening from a dream.

"I never did like that thing," Robert mused. "It's too much like being dead and buried."

Methos smiled thinly. "It does have that feel to it doesn't it. I'd never thought of that before."

"When I'm out of it, all I can think of is that the ocean was above me and that at any moment it could have come crashing down."

Nodding sagely, Methos agreed. "We could have flown, but then we'd have had swords to get through customs and renting a car and… I miss the old world sometimes. Don't you?"

"Every day. Although I'd hate to lose the invention of the phonograph. All that lovely music recorded for mortal posterity."

"I can still hear it in my head… the music that adorned the revelries of my youth."

"How old are you Pierson?" Robert suddenly asked, looking at him quizzically.

Methos shrugged. "Old enough to remember Rome," he said lightly. "Old enough to remember Greece." His voice faded away as he fleetingly recalled key events of those times and the mortals and immortals he'd known then. He shook it off. "The first piece of property is on the West End of London." He had to keep his mind on the here and now and find MacLeod and the others. He eased into the proper lane and settled into traffic.

An hour later, he found himself on a sedate London street crowded with old brownstones. For a moment, Methos was transported into the London of the nineteenth century as he stared up at those four and five story buildings all crowded together and towering into the sky. Along the tree-lined streets, nannies in dark cloaks had wheeled the prams of their charges. Now there were people sitting on the front stoops and fanning themselves. They stared at the slowly passing car with suspicion. The neighborhood had changed. Instead of an area where the upper middle-class lived, it had become the provence of immigrants and the lower strata of society.

Teens dressed as punks hung out on corners, smoking and playing raucous music.

"Somehow I don't think we'll find them here," murmured Robert.

"Somehow I think you're right," agreed Methos. "But we need to be certain. He pulled into a parking space opposite the address and both men stared up at the building. "I don't sense anyone," Methos finally said.

"Should we investigate more closely?"

Methos nodded. "I'll go. You watch the car. I'm not entirely certain I trust that last group of kids." He grabbed his sword from where it had been hidden from customs in the back seat and climbed out, adjusting his long coat as he did so. He eyed the closest group of teens warily and then crossed to the townhouse.

He'd just climbed the stoop when the door opened and two scantily clad teen girls emerged, popping gum and chatting in some polyglot of English and German. They eyed him as if he were a side of beef while he eased past them and into the dim hall. He still felt nothing… and now it appeared to him that he wouldn't. The building had been sub-divided. Craille was likely just an absentee landlord. Nevertheless, in the interest of being thorough, he climbed the stairs, pausing on each floor to feel the presence of any immortal. He felt nothing. Not even on the top floor where access was not allowed due to a locked gate across the stairs.

Methos leaned on the gate a moment. Evidently this was more of a last ditch hiding place than one of Craille's premier pieces of property. He might stay here when in London… but this was not a place he frequented. Methos could see dust on the upper floor… and no footprints. Nor had a key recently been used in this lock for it had the appearance of an old and unused one.

He shook the gate menacingly, noting that despite appearances, it was strongly bolted into the wall. "A delay tactic," he murmured softly. He turned and descended the stairs, noting the suspicious looks of the building's residents, some of whom sat in the halls chatting with one another.

He stopped on the third floor to ask about the man who lived "up top." and was told that no one lived there. No one ever had in "twenty-four years" according to one elderly man. Methos thanked him and returned to the car… now surrounded by the young toughs.

"'ey there Mate," said one whose spike of neon green hair and body piercings reminded Methos of Caspian in some ways. "Yu gots to pay rent to park 'ere." He rubbed his fingers together with a wide grin.

"Sorry," Methos murmured, "just leaving." He reached for the door handle, aware that the group had closed in around him.

"We still needs the rent money," the leader taunted. He stuck out his pierced tongue and waggled it in Methos' face.

The ancient immortal sighed and remained very still while the catcalls and taunts rose about him. The easiest thing to do would be to pay them and leave.

Robert slowly climbed out of the passenger side of the car and leaned on the roof, meeting Methos' gaze quizzically as if to say, "What do you want to do?"

Methos nodded almost imperceptively and then moved swiftly to snatch the leader's tongue in one fist and yank it towards him.

"First of all… I don't like tongues in my face," he said calmly, noting that blood was easing around his fingers. Then, before the others could react, he kicked out with his left foot and connected with another teen's solar plexus. At the same time, he dragged the leader around and tossed him into three of his mates. By this time, Robert had joined in.

Obviously blades were not needed, nor did either immortal wish to kill these boys, but they needed a lesson… and Death and his erstwhile apprentice could surely provide that. The air was rent with the sounds of swiftly delivered blows, yelps of pain, and the occasional snap of a broken bone. One by one the toughs fell and crawled or ran away leaving only their fearless leader behind… trapped by one of Methos' booted feet on his face.

The immortal leaned over the blubbering tough, whose mouth still ran red with blood. Evidently Methos had pulled a tongue piercing free. "Now then," Methos said calmly, "shall we discuss bullying, extortion, courtesy, meaningful employment?"

The boy's eyes widened in fear. He shook his head.

Robert nudged him with a foot. "Then we're done here. Scoot along home now and behave yourself." The boy looked back and forth between them and then managed to get to his feet and slink away. Robert took a deep breath. "Now that was fun."

Methos glared at him, but the dark, oppressive cloud of Death was easing. "Let's go. They're not here," he snapped.

"You move well," Robert continued pleasantly after both were once more in the car. "Do you give lessons?"

Methos dropped his head on the steering wheel and took several deep cleansing breaths. "Sorry," he finally said once he'd regained control. "It's been a stressful few days and they really ticked me off." He started the ignition.

Robert chuckled. "I could see that. Still…" he looked back over his shoulder through the rear window, "… do you honestly think that will make anything better?"

"It made me feel better," Methos replied honestly, and pulled out onto the street. They still had two properties to check out.

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Niebos:

A wave of uneasiness hovered over Eleanor. She raised her head and blinked away the sleep that had overwhelmed her. Glancing at the clock she noted she'd slept at the desk for several hours. Somewhere in the back of mind she sense Death riding through a barbaric past while once more she clung behind him in the saddle. Methos hadn't had an episode in some time. Perhaps his iron control of who and what he once had been was slipping. Then just as suddenly it faded and was gone.

She tucked her hair behind her ears, and with a resolute smile, rose. She wanted to check on J. D. She hadn't meant to leave him alone so long. The light filtering through the blinds indicated that it was near evening. Eleanor could hear movement in the corridor as she opened the door.

"Oh! You're awake!" Greg smiled up at her. "I was just about to wake you myself."

"Yeah! I guess I was more tired than I thought I was."

"J. D.'s fine… by the way. He's sitting up and anxious to get out of here. His appetite is back to normal," Greg added with a chuckle.

"His arm?"

"Doesn't pain him. That's normal… although he seems to be further along in the process than normal."

Eleanor looked at him thoughtfully. "It's the first time he was ever seriously hurt. Considering what Grace told us last night… do you suppose it's important?"

Greg nodded. "He might have some latent healing ability that we as pre-immortals did not." He shrugged. "I'm not in favor of testing this out further though."

Eleanor nodded, laughing as she did so. "Nor am I! One crisis per child's lifetime is quite enough!" She sighed and glanced up the hall, noting Kenny's lingering presence in the shadows. "What's he doing here?"

Greg cleared his throat. "I found him in J. D.'s room earlier. The two of them were getting acquainted."

"Well there goes one hope… that we could keep the children from him," Eleanor added soberly.

"He wants out of here too. There's nothing physically wrong with him."

Eleanor rubbed her cheeks, letting the cool feel of her hands help root her in the here and now. "Tell him we'll see about it tomorrow. Meanwhile, I'm off to see my son." She gave Greg a smile of encouragement and was rewarded with a reassuring clasp of her arm.

"I'll keep an eye on him. I told Grace to stay away today. I can handle everything. And you… see your son and then get something to eat. You look terrible." He winked.

Eleanor laughed and brushed at the bloody splotches still on her. "I likely do. Call me if you need me!" She waved him off and sauntered down the corridor to J. D.'s room. She found him sitting up in the bed talking to Chou and Denis.

The two immortals lowered their eyes when they saw her and apologized for what had happened.

"It was an accident," Eleanor assured them. "Right?" All three boys nodded fervently. "Then nothing more need be said."

"Can I get out of here Mom?" J. D. pleaded. "I feel fine."

"Maybe tomorrow," Eleanor assured him and brushed his dark hair from his eyes and kissed him. "I just want you to take it easy and rest today."

"Awww… Mom!" J. D. wiped at his forehead. He definitely was feeling better and not wanting to be seen as being babied by his mother… at least not in front of his friends.

Eleanor got the message. She stepped back and bowed slightly. "Yes your majesty." she winked at him and then let out a deep breath. "I'm going to the villa to check on Marianna , get a bath, and something to eat. Greg's down the hall if you need anything." She focused on the two immortals. "And you will be certain that he stays put… right?"

Chou nodded enthusiastically while Denis looked at her fearfully. She laughed and left. She'd check with Phillip and see if he'd discovered exactly what had happened.

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