Methos looked across the table and noticed that Crystal held the near-full beer bottle in her hand as she stared straight ahead at something.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
"Huh? No…I was just thinking."
"About what?"
"You remember that one summer that the grapes grew in excess and we tried to make our own wine?"
Methos started laughing almost instantly. Yes he remembered.
"That stuff was awful," he recalled.
"And we were all sick for days…and Kronos, he wouldn't touch anything we made after that for…how long, a week at least," Crystal added.
"He swore we were trying to poison him," Methos remembered.
"Maybe we were," she replied.
"Hey Adam!"
Methos turned around and saw Joe standing behind them.
"Haven't seen you around lately, how've things been?"
"Oh, fine," Methos answered vaguely.
Joe looked at Crystal, "Friend of yours?"
"You might say that," Crystal said.
"Yes, she's a friend from the old neighborhood," Methos explained.
"Oh," Joe responded, and then he caught what Methos meant, "Oh…well, nice to meet you, Miss…."
"Crystal Monet…nice to meet you too, there, now we're both liars," she said.
"Is there anything else you need?" Joe asked.
"A couple more beers would be good."
Crystal turned around in her seat and watched the older man disappear, then she turned back to Methos and said, "So you know this kid long, what's his name, Richie?"
"A couple years now," Methos said, "I don't know him too well…and that's mutual, he just recently found out who I am."
"How'd he take it?" Crystal asked.
"He didn't believe it," Methos answered.
She laughed, "Smart kid. He's not married is he?"
Methos looked at her, "No…I don't think he's seeing anybody right now…but if you want my opinion, I don't think he'd survive a night with you."
"He's…how old?"
"He was 19 when he became Immortal," Methos answered.
A large, knowing, mischievous smirk formed on her face, "Got those kinds of hormones going all the time, it's a wonder if he survives himself." Then she thought of something else and asked Methos, "What do you think his odds are of surviving MacLeod?"
Methos took his time to answer the question and that was answer enough for her.
"That bad, eh?"
"I think," Methos answered, "Richie would do well to keep a distance between himself and the Highlander."
"Then we agree."
"MacLeod's already had a couple of swings for his head, last time he almost succeeded," Methos said.
"Then why doesn't Richie get the hell out?" Crystal asked.
"I don't know, I thought he had more sense than to come back like this," Methos said, "The files indicate he showed such promise when he was younger."
"MacLeod just has a way of ruining everything, doesn't he?" Crystal asked.
Methos grumbled something to himself for a moment as he contemplated how to respond to that. He settled for, "Something like that."
Crystal took a drink of her beer and said to Methos, "Answer me this…if something happens and MacLeod dies…how does that affect you? Or will it?"
"I don't know," Methos replied, "For a long time I thought it would…more I think of it though, I think I'd like the honor of doing it myself."
Nobody slept that night, though each had their own reasons for it. Richie tossed in bed thinking about the race tomorrow. He hoped that he didn't crash and die publicly like he had in Europe, where would he go next if that happened? Duncan wasn't asleep either. He laid in bed and looked at the ceiling and just thought about Methos, and that crazy woman he'd met again that morning. Connor was also suffering from insomnia that night, on the other side of town at a motel he was staying at. The blinking sign from outside came in the window and about blinded him. He sat on the foot of the bed, still dressed from the day and recollecting on his life and all that had come from it, and weighing the benefits against the misfortunes.
And in Methos' home, Crystal wasn't asleep because every time she closed her eyes, she could see Kronos glaring at her. Awake in the dark, she looked over to the other side of the bed. Methos appeared to be asleep, but she wondered if he really was. She laid back against the pillows and closed her eyes again…a few minutes passed and she saw that face staring at her again. It was so realistic it was like he was alive again. Crystal woke up again and looked around and saw the dark room. She laid down again but didn't go to sleep right away. Her eyes stayed open for a few minutes, trying to fight off the inevitable, but she fell asleep again. But every time she started off to sleep, she could see those piercing blue eyes staring at her again, and she woke up.
"Methos," she said.
"Hmm?"
"You asleep?" she asked.
"No," he replied, "Something wrong?"
"Can't sleep," she said.
"Insomnia, or nightmare?" Methos asked.
"Maybe both," she replied, "Maybe I'm just excited about the race tomorrow."
"I'd think Richie would be doing that," he remarked.
"You like the kid, don't you?" Crystal asked as she turned slightly on her side and looked at him.
"Well," Methos said, "It's easier to talk about things with him, than it is with MacLeod sometimes."
"Makes sense, the two of you are close in age," Crystal said, "You didn't die much older than he did."
"Old enough," he insisted.
"Some people just stay 16 forever," Crystal commented, "No matter what the mirror says…sometimes you just don't finish growing up."
Methos hawed and said, "More people should subscribe to that theory."
Crystal started laughing, making the covers shake, and she said, "I just had a funny thought…think if you, me and that kid were all living together. Can you imagine what that would be like?"
"I've thought about worse," Methos told her.
Everybody turned out for the race the next day: MacLeod, Joe, Methos and Crystal, even Connor had showed up to cheer Richie on. And Crystal waited in the front row with a fire extinguisher should anything go wrong. But it was all for naught as when the race was over, Richie had only come in second place. His friends walked out to meet with him in the middle of the track, and the entire way, Crystal was yelling and cussing out the other racers and their managers.
"Don't let it eat you, Richie," she said, "You'll get them next time."
"If there is a next time," Richie replied.
"Yeah if," she looked at him, "There will be. Time's the only guaranteed thing you have in this life now, might as well use it to your advantage."
Crystal turned around to speak to Methos but couldn't see him anywhere. She looked to Connor and said, "Where'd he go?"
"He wasn't feeling well," Connor answered.
"I'm worried about him," Crystal said.
"He's an old man," Connor said, "I should like to think he can take care of himself."
"Of course you'd think that, Connor, because you're not the one who lived in the same village with him for 20 years."
A short while later, the commotion from the race died down and everybody was going their separate ways for the afternoon. Methos found Crystal waiting for him by his car.
"I thought you'd be going off with Connor," Methos said.
"He wasn't interested," she replied.
"Well," Methos said as they got in, "Where're we going?"
"I want to show you my new home," she said.
"Alright," Methos gave up, "Let's go see this dump."
"Glass houses, friend," Crystal told him.
Methos drove the way Crystal told him and they came to a large house that rested on a hill overlooking the city.
"Doesn't look too bad," Methos said as they got out of the car and walked up the sidewalk.
"No, I think you'll like it," Crystal said, "25 rooms, a large in the ground pool, and it's on enough land to cover two square blocks."
"Beats the hell out of the last place you lived at," he commented.
They went in the front door and Methos looked around at the place. The walls were plain and there wasn't an over abundance of furniture as some people were inclined to do. It was everything she had before; just now there was more room in between everything.
"Not bad," Methos said, trying not to let on that he liked the looks of the place.
"Well it's a lot roomier than that walk-in closet you live in you call an apartment," Crystal remarked.
"And…" he looked around at the place, "Which is your room?"
"That's upstairs," she said, "Follow me."
They swung around and returned to the front hall, Methos looked up at the long staircase and commented, "The World Trade Center has fewer stairs than this."
"Why not?" Crystal asked, "Somebody breaks into the house, they got to come up the stairs to get to the good stuff, they might as well have to put some effort into their work."
"You forget, I've been in your home countless times," Methos said, "I know everything you own and none of it's worth the trouble of stealing."
They reached the top of the stairs and she showed him her room down the hall. It was a large room with the windows open, a large double bed in the middle of the room, a large trunk near the bed, a dresser, a desk upon which rested a heavy typewriter and a boom box, and over in one corner of the room was a collection of a wide variety of teddy bears.
"Looks like you," Methos commented.
Crystal went over to the pile of teddy bears and picked up one in particular; it wasn't large but it was big, an old, dirty white bear with a white outfit with red circles stitched onto its body. She grabbed one of the bear's paws and swung it and hit Methos in the head with it, he noted how hard it hit for being something made out of stuffing and fabric.
"Say that again, I dare you," she said.
Methos ran his tongue over his teeth, it felt like she'd knocked some loose when she hit him.
"No thanks," he replied, "I'm not an idiot."
Methos stayed until the night had come and then it seemed pointless for him to go back to MacLeod, or even to his empty home, so he agreed to stay with Crystal for the night. He was on the left side of the bed, she was on the right, and though neither had said anything or moved for half an hour, Methos wasn't asleep. He stayed awake and stared up at the ceiling in the dark room just barely lit by the illumination of the moon and the stars shining in the windows. Turning to his side, he saw Crystal's eyes were still open as she too stared straight up.
"Can't sleep?" he asked.
"No," she replied, "I'm thinking."
"What about?"
"The old days," she answered, "When it was just the three of us. That was fun."
"It was certainly different than it is now," Methos said.
How well Methos remembered thousands of years ago, Good Lord, did that even seem possible? He remembered when it was he and Kronos and Christa…for the most of it, when it was the three of them, things went well, but then there were some periods where each wanted to kill the others.
He remembered one night in particular…he couldn't remember why, but they were all at each other's throats. It was late at night and all they wanted to do was go to sleep, at the time it was three of them sleeping in one tent, which made things awkward for them. Kronos laid down on one end, Methos was in the middle and Christa laid down beside him. Even then the three of them couldn't be peaceful about it, everybody was snapping at one another. Finally, Christa got fed up with it all and laid down beside Methos. "Goodnight, Adam," she said to Methos, "Goodnight, Serpent," she added, to Kronos.
"Goodnight, Eve," Kronos replied jokingly.
"Oh shutup!" she and Methos responded.
It was then that Methos decided he wasn't spending the night right next to his brother, so he reached over, grabbed Christa and put her in the middle and he moved out to the side.
Times like that made Methos grateful for having fewer bedmates in the present time. He looked over at Crystal and saw she seemed to be deep in thought about something.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
"Why did Kronos have to bring those other men home with him?" she asked.
Methos thought back to the night in question.
The two of them had been asleep when they heard Kronos return. They quickly threw on their garments and went out to meet him but found that he had come back with two other Immortals. One was a large man whose weapon of choice was a large axe rather than a sword. The other was a smaller built man with black hair who in Christa's opinion, looked like a drowned rat.
"What are they?" she asked Methos.
"Kronos," Methos said, "Who are these people?"
"This is Silas, and this is Caspian."
"What are they doing here?" Christa asked.
"They're going to be staying with us," Kronos answered.
"Why?" Methos asked.
Kronos walked over to Methos and grabbed his lower jaw to get his attention and said, "That, my dear brother, is for me to know."
Methos wasn't sure he liked this sudden change of events, and Christa wasn't pleased with it either. However, neither would be able to convince Kronos that it was a bad idea, so they didn't say anything to him about it. A couple nights later after the men had gotten settled in on the land, Christa went out walking to find Caspian. He was alone and the other men weren't anywhere to be seen, so she took this as her opportunity to strike. She called to Caspian and had him come over to her. Since their arrival, the men had barely exchanged two words with her and each knew nothing about the other. Christa said nothing and instead put her hand on Caspian's chest and gave it a little squeeze. She watched him closely as she continued to feel his flesh through his clothes, and when she knew he wasn't paying attention, she raised her foot up and kicked him in the groin.
Caspian fell to the ground, the air knocked out of him. Christa screamed and yelled and grabbed the neck of her tunic and ripped it open; Caspian looked up and saw her ball up her hand and strike herself in the face repeatedly as she continued wailing and bawling. Methos and Kronos came running, and Christa fell into Kronos' arms and told him that Caspian had tried to rape her. Before Caspian could get a word out that he hadn't done anything, Kronos had grabbed him by the neck and was trying to kill him. Methos hadn't been sure at the time if Christa had told them the truth or not, but that night when they were in bed together and he heard her laughing about it, he had gotten his answer.
"You," he said to her, "Are a horrible little creature."
"Yes," she replied, "And you love me anyway." She reached over and kissed him and then resumed laughing.
"You really hated Caspian back then, didn't you?"
In the time that Christa had known Silas and Caspian, she had never once attempted to befriend either of them; and in the thousands of years that they all had wandered the earth, she had never once attempted to find either of them and make amends. Methos had always felt sorry for all involved; he figured if they could ever be together in the same place without trying to kill each other, they might actually get along since they were all so much alike.
"They were outsiders," she said, "They weren't our family."
Methos sighed as he shifted in the bed and he replied, "They were mine."
"Then you tell me why after the Horsemen broke apart, you didn't try to find them," Crystal said.
Methos turned to her suddenly and the look in his eyes was nothing that words could ever hope to describe.
"I'm sorry," she said, "I know you were very particular to Silas…though why that is, I'll never figure out."
"If you'd ever bothered to actually get to know him," Methos started to say.
"I know that that was important to you," she said, "But it wasn't important to me. You and Kronos, you were the only two people who ever mattered to me. You two were the only people I ever needed in my life."
Methos fought back a chuckle and commented, "You would not have done well in a harem, I can tell."
"Neither would you," she replied, then changed the subject, "Do you ever think about how different everything would have been if we'd never met them?"
"Sometimes," Methos replied, "I don't know if it would've been for better or worse."
"But if we'd never found them," Crystal said, "The three of us would've still been together, just the three of us…that's when things were good."
"I know," Methos said.
"You WHAT?" Connor asked Duncan the next afternoon while they were putting away a few beers at Joe's bar.
"When Richie was racing in Europe a couple years back," Duncan explained, "I told him he shouldn't use his Immortality to help him win."
Connor slapped himself in the face and said, "Have I taught you nothing over the years?"
"Immortality is a gift," Duncan said.
"Yes, and do you have any idea how idiotic it is not to use a gift to your advantage?" Connor asked, "No wonder the poor kid crashed and burnt, you give him the wrong advice and he doesn't know what to think. My God, how did I get somebody so stupid for a cousin? What else have you been filling his head with?"
"If you think I'm so incapable as a teacher," Duncan said, "Why did you tell me to watch over him?"
"I'm starting to wonder that myself," Connor replied, and held up his bottle, "Maybe after a few more of these I'll get the answer."
"Honeymoon over, kids?" Joe asked as he came over to the table.
"You have no idea," Connor said.
The two MacLeods felt the quickening of an oncoming Immortal and they both looked to the door. Crystal came in alone and immediately went over to their table and sat down by Connor.
"Where's Methos?" Duncan asked.
"He said he had some things to take care of, I'm meeting him for dinner later," she said, and turned to Connor, "I hope you don't resent me leaving you alone with this thing for so long."
"Oh it's been a very enlightening visit," Connor told her, "Crystal, have you seen Richie?"
"The kid with the red curls and the cute scrawny ass?" she asked, and shook her head, "No, wish I had though. Why? Is he in trouble?"
"No," Connor answered.
"Can I get you anything, Miss Monet?" Joe asked.
Crystal said nothing and made no acknowledgment that she'd even heard him. Connor tapped her shoulder to get her attention.
"Oh, me?" she asked, "I'll just have a beer."
"I'm guessing you haven't been using your current name too long," Duncan said.
"And I'm guessing you're not too bright," she responded, "Even your cousin knows to change his name after 400 years, but you still haven't figured that out, why? You want to make it easy for people to connect the dots? It's not bad enough we've got people like that," she pointed towards Joe, "Doing that kind of work?"
Connor looked at Duncan inquisitively, and Duncan looked down at his drink and said, "I don't know what you mean."
"Joseph Dawson, he's 47 years old, he served in Vietnam, was sent back with a purple heart after stepping on a land mine which resulted in a double amputation of his legs, he's been in the Watchers round about 25 years, been your personally assigned Watcher for the last…"
"How do you know that?" Duncan asked.
She looked at him and with a knowing smirk, replied, "I'm not stupid, MacLeod…you have people watching you, you never think about who watches them?"
Connor tried not to laugh as he said to Crystal, "I need to use you as a dinner date more often, you seem to start some very interesting conversations."
She looked at him and said, "You think that's good, you want to find out who you're stuck with for a Watcher?"
"No no," Connor said, "The longer I don't know that, the longer I don't have to kill them."
"And…who is your Watcher?" Duncan asked Crystal.
"I don't have one, I never did," she said, "Methos and I share the tools of the trade."
"You're a Watcher too?" Duncan inquired.
"No, but I know how to make sure nobody ever finds out about me," she said, "And warn your bloodhound friend," she pointed to Joe again, "If anybody does start a file on me, they're going to wind up dead."
Duncan thought back to all that trouble they'd gone through with the Watchers not too long ago; Immortals killing Watchers, Watchers killing Immortals, he sincerely hoped that they wouldn't have to go through that again. The more he saw of this friend of Connor's and Methos', the less he liked her; she just struck him as being nothing but trouble.
"Uh, Miss Monet," Joe said as he returned to the table, "There's somebody on the phone for you."
"On the phone here calling for me?" she said, "That's ridiculous, but…" She stood up and went over to find out who wanted to talk to her.
"Exactly what is it that you see in her?" Duncan asked Connor.
"That's not a very good question to ask me because I'm not even sure what I see in you," Connor said, "Just because we're from the same Clan doesn't mean one damn thing about me having to like you."
"Then why do you keep coming back?" Duncan asked.
"I wonder the same thing," Connor said, "I'm sure in some weird way I'm trying to punish myself for something."
They saw Crystal come back from the bar and she seemed to be shaking.
"Crystal, what's wrong?" Connor asked.
She sat down so she wouldn't collapse and told them, "That was the hospital, Methos is in ICU."
"What?" Duncan asked.
"They think he overdosed on something…they found my card, and a card from this place, in his wallet so when they couldn't reach me at home, they tried here…" she stood up, "I have to go home and get some things, and I have to get over to the hospital."
"Hold on, I'll come with you," Connor said.
"No," she said, "I better go by myself."
She all but ran out of the bar and left the two MacLeods at the table, staring at each other in shock and disbelief.
"Methos in the hospital for an overdose?" Connor asked, "What the hell is going on around here?"