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Chapter 3- Death be a lady

I woke up in a slight daze. Strong arms held me against a rather taught body, but I couldn't recall why. I opened my eyes slowly, soaking in the sunlight. Then I looked up at the sleeping figure. Methos still looked like a beautiful dream when he slept. It was then I remembered everything from the night before. I had asked him to stay close, still slightly freaked by the fact that I had a stalker. That a good friend was killed by mistake, it should've been me. Slowly, carefully, I got up. I felt arms grip tighter around my stomach and I fell back onto the bed. I looked up at the smiling face of Methos, still pretending to be asleep. I reached up and kissed his jaw, then his cheek, then I slowly got closer to his lips. He was squirming but not running. When I got a millimeter away from his kissable lips, I stopped. "Let me up." I whispered. He groaned and let go. I got up, and looked around for some pants. I was in just a sweater, his sweater. I opened the door and looked in the hall, my bags lay beside the door. I grabbed them and pulled them inside. I grabbed a pair of jeans and put them on. I opened the door again.

"Where are you going?" Methos asked.

I turned and looked at him. "To make some tea." I answered. He smiled and I left. I went into the kitchen and found a kettle on the stove top. I grabbed it and put it under the faucet. When it was full, I put the kettle back on a burner and turned it on. I also started some toast and beans. I didn't know if Methos had succumbed to the American jam on toast, but I desperately needed something familiar. When I was in London, I ate beans on toast every morning. Nothing sounded better at this point than that. Jet lag still hadn't caught up with me, but I knew, sooner or later it would. The fact that my plane trip over here was only the second time I had been on an airplane didn't help. I heard the elevator shaft move and then stop. I crossed from the kitchen and watched as a woman with shoulder length brown hair step out. She looked at me with disgust. "Where's Adam Pierson?" She asked. Then she looked at what I was wearing. "Who are you?"

"Iliana, I think we have to throw this away, love." Methos said, coming in from the bedroom, holding my shirt from last night. He stopped. "Melanie." He said, slightly in disbelief. She gave him a death glare. Just as this was happening, I saw Richie jump up from the couch and walk over. He took the shirt from Methos.

"Good morning, Elena." He said and he kissed my forehead.

"Richie." Melanie looked at us. Richie bent down to my ear.

"Pretend we're lovers, I'll explain in a minute." He whispered. I nodded. He put an arm around my shoulders. "Adam, aren't you going to introduce us?" Richie said looking at Melanie. Methos shook his head clear and nodded.

"Melanie Shaffer, this is Elena Elden and Richie Ryan. Elena, Richie, this is Melanie Shaffer, my girlfriend." Richie held out his hand for her to shake, she did. I started to do the same but decided against it. I crossed back to the stove where the kettle was whistling and removed it, placing it on a heated pad. I turned off the stove burners where the kettle and where the beans were. I turned the toast.

"What are you making?" Richie asked, curious but disturbed.

"Tea and Beans on Toast." I answered. He scrunched his face in disgust. "What?"

"Beans on toast? You put beans on toast?" He asked. I nodded, curious at his revelry. "Adam, help me out here, we seem to have a culture clash." Richie said looking at him. I glanced up as I grabbed four cups from the cupboard.

"Whats the problem?" 'Adam' asked.

"Beans on toast." Richie said. Methos smiled.

He explained that thats what we eat in London. "Is there enough for me, Elena?" He asked. I nodded mutely and grabbed some plates. I made the tea.

"What do you like in your tea, Melanie?" I asked her. She glared at me.

"I don't drink tea." She said hautily.

"Fine." I replied and I dumped her glass. Methos ate his toast in silence, watching the glares pass between Melanie and I. Richie did the same, minus the toast.

"I guess we'll be going." Methos said after finishing. "See you guys at Joe's." With that he and Melanie left. I ate my toast, not looking at Richie or Duncan, who had just entered the room. Duncan walked into the kitchen and made some of the toast as well. Duncan looked at me.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. I looked up.

"Fine." I said. I was lying. I had a bruise that had survived the night. Though most of my body had healed, there was a bruise on my left side that remained. It had been a yellow color last night, now it was blue. I tried to walk around the small island, but grazed the counter, causing a gasp, involuntary gasp to escape my lips.

"Fine, right." He placed his toast down and came to me. "Let me see." He asked.

"Duncan, I'm fine. Really. Its just leftover bruising from where the ribs were broken. It'll be healed by lunch, promise." He wasn't convinced and watched as I walked wincingly to the couch.

"Mac, she had to meet Melanie." Richie tried to whisper. I could here him talking. Richie was a smart kid. He knew that I was more upset than I let on.

"And what did you do?" Duncan asked him.

"Put my arm around her and acted like we were together. It was all I could think of. Besides, I couldn't have passed her off as your girlfriend."

"Whats that supposed to mean?" Duncan asked incredulously.

"I look younger than you." I suppressed a giggle as they walked in. Duncan sat in a chair opposite the couch, but Richie lifted my feet and sat down, then replaced them on his lap. They chatted about random things for awhile, Richie telling him about his ten years in the Navy, constantly apologizing for lying to him.

Flashback: Madrid, Spain. 1832.

Connor walked with me as I browsed the shops of Madrid. The marketplace was buzzing with the newest goods and fashions. We were staying with Don Alejandro Chavez, a wealthy land owner, who lived on the furthest edge of Madrid. Connor and I were spending the day in town while the Don took care of businesses of state. Suddenly, we felt the presence of another immortal approaching. Connor moved closer to me and we both put hands on our swords. A man came up to us, a familiar presence surrounded him. Then-I saw his face, a scar was across his right eye. "Kronos." I whispered. Connor held me behind him as the man came closer. The Don was behind him.

"Ah! Colonel Montoya, this is Lord MacLeod and Lady Kyrie. Connor, Elaina, this is Colonel Luis Montoya of her Majesty's guard." I was shocked. Kronos was being of service to a country? It had to be a ploy. "Colonel Montoya will be traveling to the New World, to one of our towns in California as a governor. He is doing me the honor of being our guest at the hacienda tonight for diner before he boards the ship." I met Kronos' eyes and glared.

"How kind of Colonel Montoya." I said, stepping around Connor's shielding body and into the line of fire.

"Please, Senora, call me Luis." Kronos said, putting up a fake charm. He knew who I was.

"Very well, Luis. What village in California will you be governing?" I questioned curiously, but he knew my reason for the desired knowledge. I wished to find some way of contacting Methos, so he may find and kill Kronos.

"Santa Helena, on the coast, near the Mexican border. Now, Senor MacLeod, might I escort this lovely vision to the carriage for you?" Kronos asked Connor.

Connor glared. "You'll have to ask her." I had an idea of what he wanted, to talk without them overhearing. I nodded silently and took his arm. We walked a few paces behind Connor and Alejandro, far enough to ensure privacy. "So, Iliana, what have you been doing these past centuries?" He asked.

"Staying out of the pillaging business. And, you? Plotting to steal money from the peasants in Santa Helena?" I guessed. He was unoriginal.

"No, of course not. I am serving my queen." He said.

"Enough of your act, Kronos, I know what you are-who you are and you serve only yourself and your libido. Or do you forget why I left the Horseman?"

"You left us because you had no brains. You thought because Methos left with his tail tucked that you could do the same. Where did you run to, ancient?" He asked.

"A monestary, in France. The monks took me in and a friend healed my dangerous path." I told him, honestly.

"Ah, and which friend was that? Certainly not MacLeod?" He asked, eyeing Connor in disgust.

"No, Connor is only 300." I told him.

"Dating children, are we?" Finally we reached the carriage and he helped me in.

I leaned into Connor and he held me to him. "I grow tired of Madrid, Connor. I wish to return to Paris soon."

"Certainly."

Present.

"Iliana-what did you do, when you left the Horseman?" Richie asked curiously.

"Richie." Duncan said reproachfully.

"Its fine, Duncan. I'm not ashamed to talk about my life." I told Duncan. I removed my legs from Richie's lap and got up. I went to the kitchen and poured some more tea and took in a breath. "I left England, went to Paris-well, the village where Paris would be. There was a small monestary there and not much else. There, I met a monk. He was nearly 200. For nearly that long, he'd been the same as I was, a killer, but he bordered on warlord. But, he took the head of a good immortal and gained the knowledge of what he'd taken-he left his life and joined the order. He never killed another soul. He stayed on holy ground for the better part of his life, and was even in his chapel when he was killed." I didn't look at any of them. I knew that Duncan had met the monk in question during the French Revolution. Duncan knew that I was talking about him.

"Darius." Was all he said. I nodded.

"If it wasn't for Brother Darius, I might not have changed as easily as I did. I stayed in the monestary for nearly 500 years, moving with Darius. Until I met Rebecca Horne, she taught me about the aristocracy of Europe, training me as a noble-woman. I left her, seeking enlightenment. I went home to Greece, learning more and more about life. But, I was called back to Rebecca in 860, to find and protect Amanda. Then I returned to England. In 1707, I returned to Rebecca's chateau. There, I met my first lover since Methos. And I loved him. You knew him as well Duncan. You knew him-god, did he love you. He talked about you all the time, how he worried for you, how he cared. The last time I saw him before he died was when he ran to find you-because he knew what had happened to the tribe of the woman you loved. We had just came to the New World, staying in Boston. He heard from a traveler that the tribe was attacked, so we parted. I had business in California." I stopped, choking, thinking about how we had parted. We left-kissed our last-no, I had to stop. Tears fell down my face. Richie crossed the room and put his hands on my arms and squeezed. The gesture made me turn around and let him hold me. For 5000 years old, I was still a child sometimes. He held me tight against him.

"I'm sorry." He whispered softly in my ear. Americans, I thought. They apologized for nothing that was their fault. I hugged him back. When the tears dried, we walked to the couch. Duncan took my hand.

"I hadn't known that you and Connor were lovers. I'm sorry." We all sat on the couch in silence for awhile.

When we arrived at Joe's, we counted on Methos and Melanie already being there, so Richie and I held hands. Amanda and Duncan entered first. Richie and I stayed outside for a second. "Look, I'm sorry about dragging up those memories-"

"Don't apologize, Richie. You've done nothing wrong. You've actually been surprisingly nice to me, even though we met just 2 days ago." I told him, looking up into his blue eyes. He was quite handsome. He saw someone behind me and looked at me.

"Kiss me." He said.

"What?" I asked.

"Kiss me." He leaned down and I met his lips. His kiss was perfect, everything it should be. I kissed those lips as if they were oxygen. My arms wrapped around his neck automatically, his arms circled my tiny waist, drawing me closer. We both forgot, in that perfect kiss, why we had begun to kiss. His tongue begged entrance and I granted it hungrily. We met with a messaging of tongues, his kiss deepening, his arms tightening-but then we broke the kiss. It took us a minute to recover, my breath coming in slowly. "I'm sor-" I cut off his apology, not wishing to hear it with my lips. This kiss was soft, chaste, but ever so sensual.

"Don't apologize. Never apologize for a kiss." I told him. He took my hand and we walked in. Joe, Amanda, Duncan, Methos, and Melanie stared at us. Amanda walked over to me, just as Methos' hurt eyes met mine.

Flashback: Boston, Massachusetts. 1840

"ILIANA! Where are you?" Connor called from the doorway. I ran in from the bedroom. We had been in Boston for only 3 months. When I saw him, he looked fearfull.

"What is it, love?" I asked as he took me in his arms.

"We have to cut our plans short, Ana. I have to go to Duncan, his tribe was attacked-"

"Why are you here? Go to him. I'll get on the first stage to California. You must run to him." He nodded and kissed me.

"I love you." He said.

"I love you, too." And with that he ran to Duncan's side. I walked to the stage office and paid for my ticket, then returned and packed my bags. I was on the stage to California. The trip was a lengthy one, but when we reached Santa Helena, it didn't seem that long. I was to stay with the local bachelorette at her hacienda, but I wasn't met by the wealthy Donna, I was met by a man in a Spanish Guard captains uniform. He wore a cheeky smile and his blue eyes told the story of his life. He was a killer.

"Lady Kyrie." He tipped his hat. I curtsied but rolled my eyes at the American. "I'm Captain Marcus Grisham. The Colonel asked me to escort you to Senorita Alverado's hacienda." I nodded and got into the carriage that was waiting. He took my bags and laid them beside me. I kept tight grip on my sword.

We arrived at Donna Alverado's 3 hours later. The entire trip, my eyes did not look away from Captain Grisham. I didn't trust him. He helped me off the carriage and I tied my sword around my waist once more. He grabbed my bags and I knocked on the door of the hacienda. A young gypsy answered, she must be her hand-maiden. "I am Lady Elaina Kyrie, is your mistress home?" I asked, giving the servant a bow.

"I'm sorry, but she is out. Please come in and I will prepare your room, ma'am." She said.

"Call me Elaina." I told her looking at the inside of the luchious hacienda.

"I am Marta, Ms.Elaina." She said. Grisham helped Marta take the bags to my room and I removed my cloak. This place was amazing.

Present.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" Amanda asked me.

"No. Why?" I asked. Richie had walked to Duncan and the others at the bar.

"Methos and Melanie saw yours and Richie's little display. Melanie came in calling you a whore and Methos has been on the deep end. You need to talk to him, tell him it wasn't real." She begged. I blushed."Whoah, wait, what was that?" She asked.

"Um..." I started. I tried to think about whether it was real or not, could I let myself be with Richie? Knowing that Methos is not but 10 feet from me, forgiving me, loving me as of old-"I don't know-I'm not sure if it was real or not, Amanda. I don't know if I want it to be or not." I said in complete honesty. Amanda nodded and we hugged sisterly. Methos got up, took a sip of his beer and walked over. I looked at him. "Hello, Adam." I was quiet, my voice small. Since when had I, Iliana of Devon, been afraid of anything? Never, until now.

"Elena-may I speak with you? Outside?" He asked. I nodded and looked at the others. Melanie was glaring. When Methos took my arm, to escort me, Melanie stood up and walked over angrily.

"You are not going outside with that whore!" Melanie yelled. I looked-no, glared at her.

"I am no whore, child." I said. Methos backed away slowly, knowing that I did not take insult lightly.

She merely laughed. "Child? You're no older than 20, I can guarantee that I am older than you are." At that I laughed.

"Don't boast your age. Or are all American's as fickle as you?" I said.

"Fickle? Don't use big words, men don't like to pay for a woman who speaks. Even if you are only $2." Alright, now I was pissed. "I am no concubine, you lowly-snivelling-conceited-sodding-piece-of-swine. You would do well not to incure my wrath." I said, letting my anger show.

"You think that you can have him? Adam and I have been together for months! Just because some little slut walks through the door from merry fucking London, doesn't mean he'll leave me for you!" She said.

"I DON'T WANT TO TAKE HIM FROM YOU! Adam and I are just friends and you should learn to hold your tongue. Believe me, if I had any desire to take him from you, it would've already happened! But, I am with Richie-see him? Over there with the red hair and blue eyes? Thats who I love and thats who I'm with. American slim." She slapped me. A very girly slap. Was I going to take it? A girl no older than 40, slapping me? HELL NO. I doubled my fist, drew back and slammed her right in the nose. She fell down, passed out. Her nose bleeding. With that I walked out the door, I ran into the parking lot before callapsing on the ground, crying. Why? Because I'd hit her-because I had said that I didn't love Methos-because now, he would believe that I was the monster he thought I was.

"Elena?" Someone asked behind me. I wiped my eyes with my glove and turned. Methos stood before me, concern in his eyes-not anger, not hatred-concern and love.

"Adam." He took my hand and lifted me up. He drew me into his arms. I was shocked at first, then let him hold me. "I shouldn't have hit her."

"No, you shouldn't have. But-I don't blame you. She's been jealous-ranting and raving about you since we left the flat. I'm sorry that you had to deal with that." He hugged me tighter.

"I'm sorry that I kissed Richie. I didn't-I'm sorry. It was just to make her stop being jealous. Not anything else." I told him.

"Its fine." We looked into eachother's eyes. Really looked-for the first time in a long time. His lips drew closer and closer-

Attention: Ok. I got ch.3 up after forever! How much do you love me? Anyway, hope you loved the cliffhanger. Things get very, VERY interesting next chapter. So tune in for more.