Chapter IV

Methos brought his car to a stop in front of Duncan's house and got out, while Joe reached into the back seat and grabbed the tray of coffees and muffins they had bought on their way to check on their friend. Joe got out of the car and joined Methos on the front porch.

Inside Duncan woke up on the couch when he felt Methos' presence and started to get up. The bottle of Scotch he had emptied the night before fell to the floor as he sat with his head in his hands, his head throbbing from the massive hangover he was going to have to suffer through.

Methos could see Duncan through the window in the front door. He tried the door knob. It was unlocked so he opened the door and stepped inside.

Joe followed him. He saw the empty bottle on the floor and elbowed Methos. He nodded in the direction of the bottle.

Methos took a cup of coffee out of the cardboard tray and took it over and set it on the coffee table in front of Duncan. "Thought you might need this," he said and took a seat in the chair next to the couch.

"Thanks," Duncan mumbled as he lifted his head and looked around. He picked up the cup of coffee, took the lid off and took a sip.

"We just stopped by to see how you were doing," Joe said as he took a seat on a bar stool at the kitchen counter.

"I'm alive," Duncan said. He still sat on the front edge of the couch and stared blankly at the styrofoam cup in his hand.

"Barely," Methos commented.

Duncan gave him a sidelong glance that warned him not to push.

"If you're hungry, we brought muffins from Griffin's Bakery," Joe stated.

Duncan stood up and set his coffee cup on the table. He turned and looked at Joe. "I know you guys mean well, but I really don't need a babysitter." He went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face.

Methos got up and walked over to the bar where Joe was. "I told you this was a bad idea."

"Yeah, yeah," Joe grumbled.

"But no one ever listens to me. Heaven forbid that I may have learned something in 5000 years," Methos went on.

"Give it a rest, will ya?" Joe said.

Duncan came out of the bathroom and walked into the kitchen. He had a small smile on his face. "A thousand comedians out of work and I'm stuck with Abbott and Costello wannabees." He reached into the cupboard over the refrigerator and took down a full bottle of Scotch. "Join me?" He asked looking at both men.

"Little early wouldn't you say?" Joe asked in return shooting Methos a worried glance.

Duncan shrugged and walked back to the couch and sat down. He picked up the shot glass he had used the night before off the floor and blew into it as if to blow any dust out of it, then filled it.

"Mac..." Joe started.

"Watch, but never interfere," Duncan stated as if reading it.

Joe rolled his eyes and raised his hands in surrender. He glanced at Methos.

"Don't look at me. This little visit was all your idea. I know better than to argue with a headstrong stubborn Scot," Methos said as he leaned against the bar. The last three words of his statement he said louder than the rest. Methos watched the back of Mac's head.

Duncan downed the shot of Scotch and sat back resting his head on the back of the couch waiting for the "hair of the dog" to cure his hangover. He smiled slightly. "You guys should take your act on the road."

Joe grumbled something under his breath that neither Methos nor Duncan could hear clearly.

Duncan sat forward and refilled the shot glass.

"I can't watch this," Joe said quietly enough that only Methos could hear him and he turned his back on Duncan.

"No," Duncan said with the same slightly amused tone. "I mean it." He stood up and turned to look at Methos and Joe. "Take it on the road." He pointed to the door with one hand and downed the shot of Scotch with the other.

"Right," Methos said and pushed off the bar and stepped toward the front door.

"Mac..." Joe started again. Duncan lost it. His face flared with anger and he threw the empty shot glass across the living room. It missed Joe by inches and crashed into the wall next to the front door shattering into many pieces. The sound in the otherwise quiet house was deafening.

"What part of leave me alone don't you understand?" Duncan yelled. "Shall I make it clearer for you?" He took a couple of steps in their direction. The anger in his eyes was more intense than either Methos or Joe had ever seen and both men moved toward the door.

"If you need..." Joe began.

"I don't need anyone or anything," Duncan bellowed. "Got it? Now get the hell out and leave me alone."

Joe and Methos exited the house and walked straight for Methos' car without hesitating. Duncan slammed the front door behind them so loud that the sound echoed in the air.

"Told you," Methos said to Joe as he got into the car.

"Shut up," Joe grumbled and got in, too. They drove back to Joe's bar in silence.

Back inside Duncan returned to the couch and with trembling hands, opened the bottle of Scotch and took several long gulps straight from the bottle then sat back and laid his head on the back of the couch and stared blankly at the ceiling.

TO BE CONTINUED