Author's Note: Sorry about the long wait, I developed a bad case of over-work and writer's block. I know where I want to go with this story, but I forgot how I was going to get there. This is a fairly short chapter just to let you know I haven't completely abandoned it.

Jason was lying in wait at the cemetery. He had studied psychology since Freud, keeping up with every new movement, every new theory. He wanted to understand the man who had killed his family so slowly. Not for any sort of possible compassion, Tristan deserved none, but to help him find him. And he knew that the charade Tristan was playing would bring him here, to Penelope's grave.

Finally a taxi pulled up accompanied by the immortal buzz, as the car pulled away, leaving Tristan alone and exposed, Jason left the cemetery and the boundaries of Holy Ground.

"I thought it might be you," Tristan said quietly, watching him.

"I'm sure you did," Jason sneered. "Spent a good century getting to know me, didn't you?"

"I'm glad you're here. Methos doesn't know, he would have warned me." A strange smile crossed his face. "His sources, whatever they are, have failed him. I will die today, finally."

Jason adjusted his grip on his sword and looked at the older man suspiciously. He was expecting him to pull a weapon at any moment and the delay made him nervous. Tristan seemed to be on no hurry however. He looked over at the graves and closed his eyes, murmuring in an ancient language. Jason shook with damp and fury. Tristan was playing him, he had to be.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, advancing with his sword held as steady as he could. He was annoyed by the way it seemed to waver, as though he were indecisive.

Tristan opened his eyes. "I am apologizing to Penelope. I would apologize to you but I don't think you would accept. Nor should you, but Penelope, she would, she was gentle."

"Yeah, she was. She was an angel. Her and Methos are the only ones who ever defended you. But they're wrong, you can't fool me like you did them. I know you haven't changed!"

"No, I haven't. Kill me." Tristan knelt down and exposed his neck. Jason knew it was a trick, it had to be, but he would take advantage of it nonetheless. Take the man's head before he could spring whatever trap he had planned.

Jason darted forward, sword raised and brought it down. Tristan didn't flinch. Jason was thrown off balance and his sword missed the killing blow, merely slicing deeply. Tristan lurched forward, but didn't cry out. Jason stood frozen as Tristan still made no move to protect himself.

A minute that lasted an eternity passed until Jason realized what was happening. "You think I won't do it, that's what it is. You think if you keep acting all peaceful I won't be able to kill you. You know I'm better, stronger, so you're trying to trick me into not killing you! It won't work! It won't!" He was screaming now and he lifted the sword to kill him, firm now in his resolve.

The sword slipped from his fingers, clanging harmlessly to the cement. Jason looked in surprise at the blood blossoming on his shoulder. He looked around puzzled, Tristan hadn't moved, who had shot him. He didn't see the man standing in the shadows of the trees before he bled to death.

Methos half ran over to Tristan who had died from blood loss moments before Jason had, cursing them both in a variety of ancient languages. Both ancient themselves and intent on the execution, they hadn't noticed his arrival. He put three more bullets into Jason when he reached them just to make sure the man stayed down long enough for Tristan to wake up.

As Methos began dragging the still dead man across the parking lot he thanked whatever powers there were that he'd decided to come to the graveyard. He nearly hadn't, whatever Petra thought Methos didn't like Tristan and he didn't want to see the man anymore, but some instinct had made him come.

Tristan woke up just as they reached the edge of the clearing. Unfortunately so did Jason who spotted them quickly since there was a blood trail pointing at them.

"Methos! Let him go! He's a monster! Please! Don't let him to this to you! To us!" Jason shouted desperately.

Methos pointed his gun at the other immortal. "I will shoot you again Jason."

Jason stopped, frustration and anger clear on his face. "Methos..." he begged.

Methos bit his tongue and hoped he hadn't heard about Jason because he'd lost his watcher again. Older immortals were entirely to free with the word "Methos."

"Let him Methos, please," Tristan said, moving to present himself again. Methos grabbed his arm with his free hand.

"I am not in the mood to argue with either of you. I like the easy solution, I always have. Right now that's shooting both of you if you don't stop." Methos said coldly. Both Jason and Tristan froze. Finally Jason make an inarticulate sound and stormed away, slipping his sword back into its sheath. Methos waited until his buzz faded then put the gun away.

"Let's go Tristan. I'm putting you on the next train out of town." Tristan followed Methos to his car and slid silently into the passenger seat. Methos got into the driver's seat and slammed the door. He pulled onto the road and the two of them drove in silence for several minutes.

When the truck behind them slammed into the bumped the first time, Methos was surprised. When it did it a second time he was mad. By the time it rammed them a third time he'd made of the driver in the rearview mirror. George.

Methos was a pretty good driver, he did his best to keep the car on the road while Tristan clutched the dashboard, but George was better and driving a larger vehicle. He also seemed to be biding his time til they were along side an incline.

The car rolled and Methos wished he hadn't gotten rid of his jeep which probably could have handled to attack. As soon as the car stopped moving Methos scrambled out of the car and tried to hurry around to help Tristan.

But Methos was not the only immortal who could use a gun to subdue another one. The first bullet hit the base of his spine. The second one went into his head.