THE YOU'RE IN MY HEART SERIES YOU CAN'T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT by JoLayne and Susan Part Three ~~~~~ ALA CARTE RESTAURANT Amanda entered the room and searched for her tea companion. She heard boisterous laughter over the usual din of ladies talking in the elaborately paneled room with gilded mirrors and lush green carpeting. At a table in the far corner, Amanda saw a larger woman with dark red hair piled up inside the largest hat she had ever seen. Its brim was so wide, it went past her shoulders. At her table was none other than Elaine Wentworth, laughing hardily along with her. Glancing at the other ladies in the room, Amanda knew exactly which table she belonged at, where the most fun would be, and made a bee line for it. Elaine raised her hand and called out, "Amanda! Over here!"  "Elaine. So nice to see you again so soon," Amanda said. She still couldn't get what Methos had planned out of her mind. She smiled at the buxom woman, who was wiping tears of laughter from her cheeks with a dainty lace handkerchief. As Amanda took a seat between them at the four person round table, Elaine pointed to the other woman and said, "Besides you, this is the nicest woman on the ship. Mrs. James Joseph Brown, may I present–" "No need for such formalities, hun," the woman interrupted. She took Amanda's hand and said, "I am separated from that man anyway. Margaret Brown, is the name, but people call me Molly. My friends called me Maggie." "Amanda Sinclair," Amanda replied, shaking the woman's hand with gusto.  Amanda could get into the crustiness of the upper class, but once in a while it was nice to thumb your nose at society and just be real. Immediately, she liked Molly, but looked to Elaine, wondering if she should make such a friend when it was important for her station to learn how to be selfish, snotty, and pompous as her husband wished. "Well, Mandy, what brings you on this ship?" "Mandy?" "You don't mind, do you?" "Not at all."  Amanda now figured what the hell. This woman may be good for both Elaine and herself. With the upcoming wedding jitters, she needed to let down her hair to someone other than Methos. What he had planned for them still crept into her mind though. She leaned her elbow on the table and planted her chin in her palm to ponder it as Elaine and Molly talked a mile a minute. "I know exactly what this one is going through, Mandy. I didn't come from privileged surroundings myself. I married a man who worked in the mines, but one day came up with the Mother Lode. Copper and gold. That's how I got here. I'm in the papers all the time. You've not heard of me? Well, that's understandable. I guess I haven't got much press outside of Denver." "Oh, that explains it," Amanda smiled. "I usually stay on the east coast while in America." "That's okay. By the looks of you, we should be able to show this one how to behave. But at another time." Maggie patted Elaine's hand. Her deep blue eyes sparkling. Amanda got the idea that Maggie was as pleased to meet Elaine as Elaine was. "For now, let's just chat." As the waitress replaced the empty teapot and gave Amanda a cup, Amanda said, "That sounds marvelous. So, you hit it big in Colorado. Were you born there?" "Nope. I was born in Mark Twain territory. Yep, Hannibal, Missouri," Mrs. Brown said. "Mr. Twain was the man who told me to move west. ‘That's where the action is, Maggie,' he said, and I went. I found work in a dry goods store on Harrison Avenue in Leadville sewing carpets, draperies and shades. Then I met JJ. Long story short, my grandson is ill and I need to get back to America, so here I am." "So sorry to hear that." Amanda wondered why she left out so many details from her marriage, but didn't want to pry. She didn't even ask if Mr. Brown was on board for fear that any sort of marriage talk that wasn't idyllic could jinx what she and Methos had planned. Amanda looked over Mrs. JJ Brown and couldn't miss the woman's diamond ring, diamond pendant, diamond brooch, and diamond earrings. All of which were either the same size as or bigger than Amanda's engagement ring. Amanda immediately looked at her tea cup. Don't get any ideas about lifting them now, Amanda. Just concentrate on your tea. "I can say that I know everyone worth knowing from Moscow to the Bosporus, so where are you from, Mandy?" Maggie asked. "England. I've traveled all over England, but consider London my home." "What is your father in?" "Excuse me?" "Your father. If you are not married yet, you must have gotten money from somewhere for those clothes, passage on the ship. How do you live?" "Mostly, I take care of myself." "Yourself?" Maggie's blue eyes scrutinized her, taking her in. Maggie sighed and nodded her head slowly. "Of course. You know Elaine because... no, you don't seem the type." She quickly turned to Elaine and said, "Excuse me dear, no offense meant." She turned to Amanda. "You're not a lady of evening, are you?" "Oh, my heavens, no." Amanda laughed.  "I didn't think so." Maggie joined in on Amanda's laughter, then turned to Elaine, "Once again, no offense meant. You look more..." she said as she looked Amanda over again. Then she slapped her knee and said, "Of course!" She leaned forward to Amanda to whisper, "You're a thief," as she knew most eyes in the room were on her, a situation that Mrs. Brown probably adored. "Do I have a large T written on my forehead?" Amanda inquired. "Not that it's a bad thing," Maggie said. "Most of the people here could do with a little ‘lightening of the load', should I say?" Amanda again gazed at Maggie's diamonds, to which Maggie covered her ring with her other hand and said, "Don't you even think about it." "I wouldn't dream of it. I'm on his voyage to get married. That is all." "On Saturday afternoon," Elaine said meekly, Amanda was sure in order to wrangle her way into the conversation. Maggie said, "How charming. I married too young, was only 19, but of course, I married me a rich man. He just wasn't when I married him. How about your fella?" "He is comfortable," was all Amanda would confide to her. She looked to Elaine, who was sitting dejected, refilling her tea cup. Before Amanda could speak to her, Maggie started up again. "Who all is going to the wedding? When is it?" "As Elaine said, Saturday, by Captain Smith." "Oh heavens! What a coup! He is a busy man. I had a Catholic priest, didn't work out so well. I'm sure the Captain will bring better luck to your marriage, Mandy." "I hope so." "Thomas Greeley was my husband's best man." "The writer?" "He was just a barber then." Amanda suddenly remembered a story of a woman in Colorado she heard. "I was at a party in Paris once and I think they were talking about you. Some woman put like three hundred thousand dollars in the stove for safe keeping-" "Yes, yes. That's me." Amanda laughed. "No! Really? Your husband was chilly and turned the stove on, burning the money?" "If there's any truth to that story, it would have been closer to $75. The story isn't true, but when I hear people relate it, I just let them." "Why?" Elaine asked, clearly perplexed. "I don't care what people say about me, just so they say something." Maggie turned her head to Elaine. "Now about you, little one. What sort of help can the two of us be to you in your quest to be part of the parvenu?" "You speak French," Amanda said surprised.  "So do I," Elaine said, laughing. "Yes. Please help me blend in with the arrogant snobs." "It is all in how to play them," Amanda said, Maggie backing her up with a stern nod of her head. The three ladies lifted their teacups and clinked them together in alliance. Maggie said, "Have you noticed the immigrants in third class? They are heading to a new life to grasp the American dream. We three are perfect examples of how to do it." Amanda smiled. They were all outstanding examples of the ‘Dream'. One married into money; one married and, along with her husband, made money; and one was single who only worked when she needed money. "Especially if you are a woman." "Here's to us women," Elaine said.  A woman at the next table said, "Hear, hear!" then was embarrassed by the looks she received. "Don't be embarrassed," Maggie said. "We are woman!" She stood up and announced to the room. "We are strong. We are invincible." Of course, a few of the female old guard got up from their chairs, fanning themselves, and made treks to the door, shaking their heads as they were clearly appalled but the ones who remained behind whooped with glee at Molly Brown's words. Elaine asked, "What about those who left?"  Amanda shrugged. "Let them keep those sticks up their shiny white rear ends. Who cares about them anyway?" "I do. James does." "Then it was all my fault, honey," Maggie sat back down. Her hand swept the room. "But look who's stayed behind. Only the fun crowd is left." The room had clearly taken on a new life. The sedate din of voices speaking in murmurs was now filled with calm, easy conversation at all of the tables. Maggie continued to Elaine, "Lesson number one, find your own kind. You'll find them wherever you look. The ones who headed for the door? Politely smile in their presence and then sit next to me when you talk about them." Elaine laughed with her napkin in front of her face. "I think I will like this education you're both giving me. I just hope James will." Amanda took Elaine's hand in hers. "He will. If not, cross that bridge when you come to it. You can change your outer self, but never, ever, change what made him fall in love with you in the first place." "Hear, hear." Maggie took a sip of her tea. She grimaced and called to a steward. "I believe tea time is over. It has to be happy hour by now." ~~~~~ Methos was sweating profusely as he made contact with the ball in what anyone would call an impossible shot. Proud of his physique and exceptional stamina, he saw the ball ricochet off the wall and slam into James' back. "Well, old chap," James stuttered, clearly out of breath. "You got me again." Old chap is right, you young squirt. Methos held out his hand with a smile. "Pay up, or double or nothing?" "I will pay, just let me catch my breath." James leaned over, his hands on his knees. "Another ‘double or nothing' will make me take out a loan to pay for the train to Amherst once we dock in New York." As they exited the court, Methos took the small towel a steward handed him and asked for some juice. "Better get one for him, too," Methos added, pretty winded himself, but damn if he'd let it show. After James collapsed in a chair and leaned back, his head on the cushion and the towel over his face, Methos took the opportunity to towel off and stretch a pulled muscle that happened during that last maneuver on the court. One of Amanda's massages would do him well. One of the perks of being immortal was that a massage wasn't required after a short period of rest, but the thought of Amanda's hands rubbing against his skin made him sprawl down in his chair with a hint of a smile on his face. She's going to love tonight, almost as much as I. "Where did you learn to play?" James asked, pulling Methos out of his daydream. "Here and there." Methos had been playing racket sports since they were invented. In fact, there wasn't a game invented that Methos didn't excel in, physical or emotional. Except townball. Methos never quite got the reasoning behind it. Imagine a game where the defense has control of the ball! Hopefully one day, someone will take the time to explain its fascination. Even the Americans had adopted the game that started in the east end of London and called it baseball. "You don't reveal much of yourself. I can accept that." "I will accept payment in pounds or dollars, whatever you have on you." James went to his jacket that had been slung over a chair and fished through his wallet. Methos realized he was being brusk with the young man. "Why are you going to Amherst?" "A new venture I want to invest in." James handed the pound notes to Methos and sat again at the table. "Oh? What sort of venture." "My family thinks I'm foolish, but Grandfather left my money to me and I can do what I want with it, right?" "Right," Methos replied without hesitation, folding the pounds to slip into the pocket of his jacket on the chair next to him. "I've read about and have conversed in letters with an inventor named Willis Carrier. He is an amazing man. Such a visionary." Another inventor... Methos had met many bizarre individuals coming up with hair-brained ideas that never saw the light of day. Only Leonardo was what anyone could rightfully call a ‘visionary'. Methos was sure this Carrier fellow was not Leonardo. "What is his vision?" "He has come up with a way to treat inside air. The air we breath, the air we feel. It's quite hot in here, isn't it?" "That's because we just played squash." "No, in general. Whenever you go inside a building or home, the air is thick, stifling. You need to open the windows, don't you?" "Of course. The good air is outside." "Not if Mr. Carrier has anything to say about it. He found a way to treat air to make it fresh, dehumidified, cool air. Inside a house, ship, building of any sort." "You're pulling my leg." "Not at all. He will get it patented one day, of that I'm sure." James settled into his chair to gleefully explain it all. "Air is sucked into a machine that will be filtered, then passed over coils that contain a non-toxic coolant before being blown into the space you want to condition. The air that was inside, hot and sticky air, is then vented outside. He calls it a ‘Rational Psychometric Formulae'. He just needs capital to work out the kinks. That's where I am coming in." "Cool air inside a house?" "‘Conditioned' air," James corrected him. "Not a bad idea," Methos mused. "What is used as coolant inside the coils?" "I have no idea, but I'll find out everything when I inspect Mr. Carrier's laboratory." "Very interesting." Methos chuckled as he shook his head thinking about the concept. "It would be like a cool breeze, without the windows open." "Exactly." Methos looked at James, reached into his jacket pocket. He returned James' money and said, "Count me in." "But, this is a thousand pounds." "Yes. I will be a silent partner in this venture." "Good show!" James slapped Methos' back. "I can't see how it could go wrong. I'm surprised no one has thought of this before. Of course, coolants are used for industry and even on this ship to keep the food cold, but to make a pleasant living environment. I tell you, Roger. I know everyone will one day have one in their homes." "If it works, and you're smart." The men clicked their juice glasses together in agreement. James said, "To Mr. Carrier." "To cooler living." They downed their juice and grimaced as they looked at their empty glasses. "We need something more substantial than this," James said. Methos looked at his pocket watch and said, "Look at the time. I have to clean up and meet Amanda on the deck at six. Good game, old chap," he said, patting James' back and made for the door. ~~~~~ Curious by nature and profession, Amanda pestered Methos the entire way from the deck where they were to meet to their destination. He refused to answer any of her questions and reminded her good things came to those who wait. Amanda swatted him playfully on the bum in response. Methos shook his head and ignored her other questions. Unable to pry any information from him, Amanda walked quietly alongside him. Finally they reached their destination for the evening. A steward stood waiting for them outside Private Reception Room 2. Amanda cast a glance at Methos, who only smiled as the young man greeted them. "Mr. Sothem, Miss Sinclair, your dinner awaits you," the steward said as he held the door open for them. Amanda caught her breath in surprise. One of the small private rooms that dotted the ship had been painstakingly converted to an intimate dining room just for two. Candles bathed the room in a soft glowing light, sparkling off the crystal and silver that decked the table. Roses perfumed the air and lent their color to the room. What seemed to overtake the room was a grand piano in the corner. "You thought you were the only one with a trick or two up your sleeve," Methos smiled. The look of utter shock on Amanda's face was one Methos wished he could capture for eternity. "Surprised?" "Just a bit," Amanda replied.  Methos led Amanda to a chair at the table. He pulled his wallet from his pocket, slipped a couple of bills into the steward's hand and whispered in the young man's ear, "I don't care what you hear in here this evening, if you come back through that door, you'll lose your tip. Understood? We're going to be making a lot of noise." The steward nodded knowingly and left them alone. "Hungry?" Methos asked as he rolled the dining cart over to the table. Amanda could only nod, while Methos served up the food. Amanda poked at her food, covertly glancing at Methos when she thought he wouldn't notice. He smiled charmingly at her when he noticed her. Her heart was racing. This was what she'd been waiting for all her life. Marrying him was her secret dream, one she'd only shared with Rebecca. The dream was coming true, finally, and she could barely believe it. "I love you, Methos. I always have," Amanda blurted out. Methos reached over and took her hand. "I know, Amanda." "Shouldn't there be some romantic music coming from that thing over there?" she asked, tilting her head in the direction of the piano. "Your wish is my command," Methos said, getting up, taking her hand, and led her to the piano. He took a seat in front of it and cracked his knuckles. "What would you like to hear?" "You can play that thing?" "Of course." He started tickling the ivories smiling up at her, the tune light and lively. Amanda walked behind him. Her hands massaged his shoulders and neck as the tune took a slower, darker tone. Her head dipped down and kissed his neck. Methos turned to face her, his eyes dark with passion. She stepped on the bench and sat on the piano above where he was playing. Hiking up the skirt of her dress, she spread her legs and each foot settled on each end of the keyboard. She grabbed hold of her long strand of pearls and swung then in a circle in front of her. Methos stopped playing and stood. He ran his tongue along her collarbone and his fingers swiftly unfastened the long line of buttons down the front of her dress. Reverently, he pushed the silk material aside and down as Amanda arched her back to allow him better access. Soon only the gauzy material of her chemise and the strand of pearls hid her body from his view. Amanda was glad she'd neglected to wear her corset this evening. Eagerly she reached for the buttons of his shirt, but Methos moved her hands away. "Not yet, Amanda. Let me love you."  Amanda closed her eyes as his hands and mouth roamed expertly over her body. Methos took his role as seducer seriously and who was she to protest? She abandoned any semblance of rational thought as one of his hands worked the pins out of her hair and the other fiddled with her nipple. She groaned and leaned into him, but felt him move away. Amanda sighed with frustration. Bouncing her feet on the keys made Methos chuckle. "Just a moment, luv," he told her.  Amanda opened her eyes and watched as he began to slowly undress himself for her pleasure. She bit her bottom lip in anticipation as his slender fingers worked his tie loose and then undid the buttons on his shirt. With great deliberation he tugged his shirt from his pants and tossed it to the floor. She leaned down to flutter some keys on the piano, making sure he saw her cleavage as she flipped her long hair back over her head. Methos watched as Amanda licked her lips and the stirring in his groin intensified, but he wasn't about to be rushed. One by one, his shoes were discarded along with his socks. "Hurry up, Methos," Amanda groaned as his hands rested on his trim waist. "I want you now." "Amanda, be patient," Methos cajoled as he unbuttoned his trousers. "We have this room all night. You will get exactly what you want in due time." He let his pants fall to the ground and stepped out of them. His naked skin glowed in the candlelight. Every muscle stood out in definition, rippling as he walked the short distance that separated him from Amanda. He walked to the side of the piano and lowered the top. Amanda, looking at him over her shoulder, slowly slid back and took off her chemise, then laid down. She wiggled her body, arched her back. The cool polished wood was jarring against her back, but soon warmed. She spread out her hair as she looked up to see how far along Methos was in getting his ass on top of her. Methos stepped on the piano bench and looked over the feast before him. He took hold of her dress and Amanda lifted up in order for him to free her from it. She saw it flutter to the floor as Methos placed a foot on the keyboard, a myriad of middle notes rang out, painfully off key, making Amanda laugh. He crawled up with a smile and lowered himself onto her waiting body. Her legs parted as his weight settled heavily on her. Amanda moaned as his hands slid under her back and over her chest. "Will this thing support us?" "Of course, it's a Steinway." She pulled his mouth down to hers and her nimble tongue darted quickly into his mouth daring his to do the same, which it did. It was his turn to moan when her teeth nipped at his tongue. Amanda knew from experience that their lovemaking was a no holds bar contest to bring the other exquisite pleasure. Never had she found a lover to match the man that was seducing her now. He knew techniques that could make her forget who she was, and others that were so tender they brought her to tears. Methos kissed her thoughts away. He worked his way from her mouth down her neck to the warm skin above her heart. He paused long enough to listen to her heart beat wildly. His tongue and teeth teased her dark nipples into stiff response. Amanda's fingers twined in his hair pulling his head closer. After he finished his assault on her breasts, his tongue slowly trailed down her stomach and teased her navel. She slipped back on the piano farther to allow him more access to her lower body. Her back arched as he moved ever closer to the triangle of hair below her stomach. His soft hair tickled her skin as his tongue teased the sensitive bud between the folds of skin. Wave after wave of pleasure threatened as he brought her to the edge of climax time after time stopping just in time to leave her panting with pent up passion. "You're a cruel bastard, Methos." Amanda's words were full of affection as she clutched the hard edges of the piano. Methos looked up at her with undisguised lust. "I know." He dipped his head back down and teased the bud one last time. He watched unashamedly as she climaxed. He was hard pressed to think of anything more beautiful than the look on her face as she experienced the most intimate act two people could share. Amanda was a beautiful woman, but Amanda in the throes of lovemaking was breathtaking. Above Amanda's cries of pleasure, Methos could hear a slight creak, not an abnormal sound on the ship as it steadied itself on the waves. But this wasn't the hum of distant metal settling, this was closer, and wooden. There was another creak. Soon, they were both on the floor; the remnants of the piano under and around them. "I think the earth moved!" Amanda cried out. "Are you all right?" Methos asked, taking in his new surroundings on top of the piano whose legs had given out. "Never better," Amanda sat up, folding herself against him. Once she was able to breath regularly, Amanda opened her eyes to find Methos resting solidly against her. "Okay. We've broken a piano. Not bad for two days on the ship." "I can afford to replace it." With feline grace, she indulged in a luxurious stretch, making sure her body rubbed enticingly against his. Amanda delighted in the fact that she had the desired effect on her lover. "Your turn, darling," Amanda instructed.  Methos picked himself up and walked over to sprawl on the plush velvet settee against the wall. As Amanda sauntered over, he willingly surrendered his dominant position and let Amanda take the lead. Amanda gave him an appraising once over as she climbed next to him before she began her seduction. He stretched his long legs around her as she kissed and licked her way down his body, her fingers tracing the outline of his muscular abdomen. "God, you're beautiful, Methos." Amanda continued her way down to where his desire was evident. She grinned wickedly as her hand closed around him, eliciting a deep moan. With slow, deliberate movements Amanda stroked him until he shuddered and arched beneath her. Amanda smiled as he did his best to control his heavy breathing. "I'm hungry," Amanda announced as she kissed him on the nose.  Wearing only the strand of pearls, Amanda sauntered over to the serving cart and investigated the remains of dinner. With a whoop of delight, Amanda found something that met her approval. Methos had stretched out on his side and watched as she rummaged through the food. "Find something you like?"  Amanda laughed, "Besides you? Maybe." "I am rather irresistible," he yawned. "Now, come over and let's finish this up properly." "Alright, but I'm bringing desert." Amanda lifted two silver desert dishes from the cart and joined Methos back on the sofa. "Hungry?" "Depends." Methos shifted so she was next to him. "What are you offering?" "Creme brulee and nice, plump strawberries." She showed him the contents of the dishes. "Mmm." Methos licked his lips. "I could eat." "You are always hungry, darling," Amanda confirmed. "Damn, I forgot the spoons!!" Methos stopped her before she could get up. He dipped his long finger into the desert and brought a generous dollop to her lips. "I don't think that will be a problem, do you?" he asked as she opened her mouth to receive his offering. He grinned as she sucked his finger clean. "You are a resourceful wench, Amanda." She dipped her finger into the desert and held it out to him. "That, Methos, is the reason you love me." His teeth nipped the delicate skin of her finger. "One of many reasons, luv."  He reached for one of the juicy strawberries and dipped it into the creamy concoction. Once he was sure Amanda was staring at him, he took a seductive bite of the berry allowing the juice to escape down his chin. Amanda appeared ready to pounce on him and Methos let his tongue capture the juice while Amanda's tongue mimicked his. "Amanda?"  "Yes?" "Would you care for a berry?"  "Yes, oh yes," she nodded eagerly.  Methos plucked another fat berry from the dish. He held the berry to her lips and her eyes closed as she took a bite out of it. While she chewed her bite, he finished off the rest of the berry. Leaning over to her, he licked the red juice that stained her lips causing her to swallow hard. She opened her eyes long enough to see he was waiting for her next move. The seducer waited to become the seducee. Unwilling to disappoint him, she pushed him back on the settee with gentle force. He stretched his long body out the length of the sofa allowing one leg to drape off onto the floor. With practice ease, Amanda straddled his oh so familiar hips. "Do you want me, Methos?" His hands grasped her hips and slid her onto his waiting penis. "Silly question, darling." Amanda sighed contentedly as she felt him continue to swell inside her. "I suppose I have my answer." "Enough talk, Amanda," Methos growled as he began to move inside her. "The only thing I want to hear from your lips is my name when you come." Amanda nodded as she took up the well-known rhythm. She arched her back as his hands slid up her back, around to her breasts tangling in the strand of pearls, and back down to where their bodies were joined. His fingers moved to tease the bud into willing arousal. As they moved together, he felt the waves of pleasure began to slam through his body and into his groin. Amanda's moans of delight only added to the storm of emotions he felt as he increased the intensity of his strokes. The sound of his name and a very racy statement in French about his prowess assured him of her own climax; only then did he allow himself to be swept away by the tide of sensations that threatened to consume him. Amanda continued the up and down motion as she felt him begin to tighten and shudder inside and underneath her. She noted with intense pleasure the flush that stained his cheeks and the beads of sweat the clung to his forehead as he abandoned himself to the carnal delights her body brought him. As she felt his arms pull her down to him, she knew she could spend an eternity with him with no second thoughts. "Gods, how do you do this to me?" He swore as she kissed him soundly. "May the gods continue to bless me with your presence." "I thought you didn't believe in gods." She stretched out on top of him. Her fingers twined in his as he tucked her head under his chin. "There must be someone to thank for you," he whispered.  Amanda glowed with pride. This revelation was totally unexpected. "I'll take that as a compliment." "It was meant as one," he replied honestly. They lay together in total silence. The flickering light of the candles grew softer as they burned lower in their elaborate holders. Time went unmarked as they caressed and kissed. Talking seemed unnecessary as they reveled in the closeness of the moment. They must have drifted off to sleep because the next time Amanda opened her eyes the first signs of morning were beginning to creep through the window coverings. "Methos," Amanda jostled the man underneath her. "It's almost morning." "So," he murmured pulling her closer. "So, we need to get back to our rooms before the cleaning crew comes to clean up our mess." Amanda reluctantly left his embrace and gathered up their clothes. Tossing his clothes on his bare chest, she sat down on the unharmed piano bench and dressed. "Methos, you can sleep in your cabin on your nice comfy bed. Now get dressed." "Bossy wench," he grumbled, but she was pleased to see him pull on his now wrinkled clothes. Since he had fewer clothes to fuss with, he finished before her. "Here let me help," he offered as he reached for the long line of buttons on the front of her dress. "The last time you helped with those things you got carried away," she reminded him with a smile. "I promise to behave this time," he said. He smiled his best innocent smile. "You have my solemn vow." Amanda didn't bother to silence her laughter. "That'll be the day." As he promised Methos buttoned the row of buttons without incident. Amanda did her best to smooth the wrinkles out of  their clothes. Satisfied with their appearances, she led him to the door. Before they walked out into the hallway, she turned to him. "Thank you," she said simply. He kissed the top of her head, "You're welcome."  ~~~~~ FRIDAY APRIL 12, 1912 Lillian woke when Herbert turned over. It had been so long since she had laid with anyone on a bed, let alone a man. After her Stanley died, thoughts of romance were never close to her heart. Since spotting that naked man in the Earl's kitchen, Lillian's life had taken an unexpected turn. As she lifted up on her side and looked down on the serene face of her French lover, Lillian knew that her life would never again be the same. She softly giggled as to not wake him. For a woman who just turned sixty years of age, a changed life was the last thing she had expected. When she and Herbert had first arrived back at Amanda Sinclair's stateroom after dinner, she had been surprised to not see her mistress. While waiting for her and that irritating man to return so she could again serve her, Herbert had ordered up a bottle of wine and insisted that she drink it with him. Herbert's thick French accent was easily turned into the clipped British accent of his employer when he called down for the wine. So much so that Lillian wondered how often he had assumed Roger Sothem's identity to acquire things. Lillian had to learn not to make her first impressions last. When she first laid eyes on Herbert, she had dismissed him as vulgar, uncouth, and not at all British. After a bottle of wine, she realized he was a sweet man who, yes, knew how to treat a lady. Maybe she should rethink Roger Sothem. Maybe he wasn't a blowhard, vain, impossible man. As she spooned behind Herbert, careful of her hip, Lillian thought, Nah. Some first impressions are spot on correct. Herbert stirred again, groggily mumbled something, and took Lillian's hand. He held it close to his heart as his snore slowly became pronounced once again. It was nice laying next to him, but her hip was starting to bother her and she couldn't get back to sleep again with that racket Herbert made in his sleep. Lillian kissed his shoulder and slowly got out of bed so as not to disturb him. She donned her flannel robe over the silk nightgown that she had lifted from Amanda's trunk when she had told Herbert the evening before that she needed to primp before they got carried away. Carried away, they did! Lillian took a deep breath, basking in the afterglow of their magical night together. She caught her reflection in the mirror and ran her fingers through her long gray hair. She wanted a brush, and couldn't find hers anywhere. Damn memory, she muttered to herself as she went through the room looking for her camel brush that she used every morning before putting her hair into a braid and pinning it up in a bun. Since they were on a ship, it wasn't inconceivable that her brush could have fallen to the floor and went under something. Dreading it, but needing to, Lillian got on her knees and looked under the table, under chairs, the sofa, the bureau, the bed. She couldn't see what was under the bed, so she crawled closer to the edge of it and reached her arm in, her hand feeling the ground for her brush. What she felt was velvet. Lord Almighty, they put velvet on the floor under the bed? Lillian had never seen such opulence, and waste of money giving all the creature comforts for mankind on that ship. She soon realized as her hand wandered under the bed that the velvet wasn't covering the entire floor. She lifted the bedspread and looked under. It was a velvet wrapped board of some kind. She chuckled as she pulled it out. Amanda had packed something in secret and hadn't allowed Lillian's help when it was offered. Maybe this was it. Still in the crouched position, Lillian was bent over the velvet wrapped board and flipped her hair behind her shoulder to get it out of the way. She pulled the velvet away to see the forehead of a woman. It was a painting. Lillian didn't recognize it at once as having belonged to the Earl. She pulled the velvet off the painting completely and let out a "Mother of GOD!" The bed moved roughly just before Herbert's face appeared over the edge of it. He sputtered something in French she didn't understand, but when she looked up at him dumbfounded, she saw that his reaction was very much the same when his eyes locked onto those of the world famous Mona Lisa. Lillian sat back breathing heavily. Everyone and their mother had heard that the painting had been stolen from the museum in Paris. She was no art authority, but that painting certainly looked real. She touched it, to which Herbert immediately said, "Don't touch it!" as he jumped out of bed. He tenderly caressed the edges of the painted popular and whistled long and loud. "I cannot believe it! Roger was the one who stole the Mona Lisa!" Lillian backhanded Herbert's shoulder. "If Sothem had stolen it, it would be under his bed, now wouldn't it. No, this was the work of my mistress," Lillian said, with a hint of pride. They heard a to-do in the hallway. It had to be Sothem and Amanda returning from wherever they had been all night. Herbert rewrapped the Mona and stuck it back under the bed as Lillian straightened Amanda's bed that they had used. Her bed was so much more comfortable than Lillian's had been, and felt a sense of loss that the one night may be the only one that Lillian would have been able to enjoy. Lillian and Herbert both sat on Amanda's bed with smiles as the door opened. Lillian took a look at Herbert's naked, wrinkled form, and bopped him on the arm. He covered his lower half with the corner of the bedspread, and folded his hands on his lap. Amanda finished her kiss on Methos' lips, and turned to see them on the bed. "Well, well, well," she said. "It looks like it was a good night for us all." Methos chose not to comment. Visualizing Lil and Herbert going at it did nothing for him. "I'm still tired. Care to join me in my room, Amanda ?" "Since it looks like mine is currently occupied, I'd love to," Amanda winked at the two lovebirds as she followed Methos into his room. She closed the door behind them and laughed. "Who'd have imagined those two-" "Don't even finish that sentence," Methos growled as he shed his clothes. "I think the world of Herbert, however, I could've gone the rest of my life without seeing that." Amanda stretched and yawned. "When did you become such a prude? Surely, you don't begrudge them a little romance." Methos crawled under the covers and buried his face in his pillows. "They can have all the romance they want; I just have no desire to see it." "Old fuddy duddy." Amanda snuggled in close to him.  "Don't wake me up before noon, Amanda," Methos mumbled. "Understand?" "Noon!" Amanda sat up. "There's still so much of the ship we haven't seen yet." "I said noon and I meant it." Methos relaxed deeper into the mattress. "If you want to go exploring go ahead. I'll catch up with you. The ship's not that big." "But I want to explore it with you," she whined. "Then wait til I wake up." Methos rose up and kissed her softly. "It's up to you." ~~~~~ The sound of Methos' heavy snoring kept Amanda from reaching too deep of a sleep. After trying to block out the noise for an hour, she determined sleeping was a lost cause for her. Besides, she was more of an early riser than he was, and with all the possibilities the ship held, she wanted to see and experience them all. Sliding out from under his arm and leg, Amanda waited long enough to make sure he didn't wake up. Unable to resist, she paused a few minutes to watch him sleep. When she'd moved, he'd rolled over onto his back. The movement caused the sheet to slip down, riding low on his trim hips. One arm rested over his eyes and the other was flung out to the side. His muscular chest rose and fell with each breath. Amanda was overtaken with an unexpected sense of possessiveness. Well, he's about to become my husband, Amanda thought with satisfaction.  Leaning down, she bussed his lips and ruffled his hair affectionately. He murmured something unintelligible and smiled in his sleep. Amanda crept from the room and went to get dressed. ~~~~~ A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER - PROMENADE DECK Amanda leaned precariously over the rail, totally engrossed in the sight of the whitecaps that dotted the ocean's surface. She'd been standing there thinking and planning her future with Methos for the last couple of hours. The huge ship moved swiftly through the water causing rather large wakes. The wind had teased several ringlets from her simple up-do. "Miss Sinclair, you must be more cautious," a masculine voice called. The unexpectedness of the voice startled her, almost causing her to lose not only her grip, but her balance as well. Gripping the rail a little tighter, Amanda spun around to face the new arrival. The lack of a buzz and the still early hour assured her the man wasn't Methos. "Oh, Mr. Wentworth, you nearly scared me to death!" Her hand pressed against her heart in dramatic effect. James bowed gallantly as he kissed her hand. "I assure you my intent was not to startle you. Your fiancé would surely have my head if I were to cause you any harm." Amanda nearly laughed at the irony of his words. "No offense taken. Where is Elaine?" "She's not feeling very well this morning, I'm afraid," James frowned. "She thinks she ate something that didn't agree with her." "Poor thing," Amanda commented. "The food is very rich on board." James nodded in agreement. "Shall we walk?" He held out his arm to her in a gentlemanly manner. "Perhaps, we could share a cup of coffee or tea?" Amanda, a little chilled from her time outside, slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. "That sounds absolutely delightful, James." The promenade was nearly deserted at such an early hour and the Ala Carte restaurant held only a small handful of patrons, most of them being older gentlemen sharing cups of coffee and business talk. James held out a chair and seated Amanda and then took a chair for himself. A steward poured cups of coffee and left them to talk. "You look very beautiful this morning," James commented out of the blue. "Thank you," Amanda replied gracefully.  She sipped her coffee from the fine bone china cup. Over the rim of the cup she noticed James' oddly intent stare. He glanced away when he realized he'd been caught. Amanda felt a chill go up her spine. The casual cup of coffee had suddenly taken on a more serious tone. Years of experience told Amanda that James' stare wasn't innocent by any means; it had been full of something very close to lust, which made no sense to her. He and Elaine seemed very happy together. "Is something the matter, James?" Amanda asked nonchalantly. James continued to drink his coffee. "No." Amanda wasn't one to beat around the bush. "Then why were you staring at me?" James threw his head back and laughed heartily. "Surely, you realize that you're a stunningly attractive woman, Amanda." "So, I've been told," Amanda said warily. She cringed when his hand snaked across the table and massaged hers. "I think you'd better remove your hand." "Let's not beat around the bush, Amanda," he stressed her name. "I'm a very wealthy man and I'm sure we can reach some sort of agreement." "All the money in the world wouldn't be enough, Mr. Wentworth," she jerked her hand free from his. "Roger has more money than even I could possibly spend, and he has more class in his pinky than you possess in your entire body." The reverberation of an immortal invaded her senses and a moment later the face of her fiancé appeared in the door. "Now, unless you'd care to explain your actions to Roger, I suggest you take your leave." James' carefully constructed facade disappeared and was replaced with a sneer. "We're not finished, Miss Sinclair." "Oh, yes, I think we are," Amanda dismissed him. Without another word, James stalked out of the restaurant, passing Methos with only a brief nod. Methos shrugged his shoulders and continued to the table Amanda occupied. He took James' abandoned seat. "Morning, darling. What did I miss?" "Oh, not much. I was just getting yet another lesson on how men have not, and will never, change. You are all so primal." "Wentworth? Primal? This I gotta hear." Methos took her hand tenderly and asked, "Did he come onto you?" "Of course. Poor Elaine. She is trying so hard to fit into his world and he is looking to expand his little black book, even after marriage." "The cad." Methos kissed her hand, and his smile indicated that he was in some perverted way happy about this. "You are going to through your little black book away, luv. In fact, we will have a bonfire as soon as we land in New York." Amanda swept her arms around Methos' neck and said, "A married couple." "I don't have a little black book." Amanda laughed. "I'd imagine your book is quite large." "No. I don't have one." "You're joking." "Not really." He tapped his forehead. "It's all up here." After she stewed about that, his memory for some things was amazingly savant, he said, "You should know by now that I don't leave anything around that isn't written in code or Sumerian." She was going to have to do some sort of mind wipe to make sure none of Methos' past lovers danced in his head, pronto. Her little pink book, on the other hand, was with all of her possessions she had packed away in London after leaving the Earl's hospitality. Methos didn't need to know that. Her list of names was mostly men who were too wealthy for their own good and even after her marriage, she would still work for heaven's sake. ~~~~~ Meanwhile, Lillian opened one of the trunks to take out Amanda's baby blue silk gown that she would wear to the ball given by J. Bruce Ismay, President of the White Star Line, that evening. As soon as she saw it, dreams of dancing to a string quartet with Herbert flashed in her head. She held the gown up in front of her as she swayed in front of the full length mirror. If only she was 30 years younger, the same age as Amanda. Lillian had been quite a looker in her day, and to Lillian's surprise, there was still one man who found her attractive. Herbert was someone she was going to hang onto for dear life. She fluffed out the skirt of Amanda's gown and laid it on the freshly made bed. What was under the bed was more important at the moment than that gown. Lillian checked Roger Sothem's room to see it empty. She hadn't heard Sothem or Herbert leave, but that wasn't any wonder. Her hearing was one of the first things to go on her. She shut the adjoining door and got down on her knees by the bed. Lillian pulled out the velvet bundle and stared once again at the famous smile. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think she would see it in person, first of all. Now it was in her hands. Lillian gingerly traced her finger along the cheek that the great Leonardo DaVinci created, and studied the hair on Mona's left side. It was fluffier than the right. Odd. She had no idea. She had seen pictures of the Mona Lisa, and never realized the difference between Mona Lisa's two sides of her head. Lillian took her lorgnette out of her case and went back to the painting to study it with better eyes. To Lillian's amazement, she thought she saw a profile along the length of Mona's hair on the left side. That line across her forehead hadn't been a veil or mistake as she had originally thought when she had first seen a copy of it when she was a girl. Lillian wondered if it was her eyes playing tricks, or that was actually the profile of Leonardo himself. Giggling with the amazement of her find, Lillian didn't hear the light tap on the door, or hear the doorknob turn. All she heard was a woman's voice asking, "Amanda? Are you in?" Lillian turned to see a young, well dressed woman staring at her and the Mona Lisa. Lillian tried to conceal the art treasure from the intruder, but it was too late. The woman walked in, hand to her chest, and pointed at it. "Is that? That is not–" "Who are you and why are you just barging into people's staterooms?" "I... I," the woman said again, before rolling her eyes up to the ceiling. Her head fell back as her body went limp and fell to a heap on the floor. "Oh dear," Lillian said. "Amanda is not going to like this." ~~~~~ The first thing that Elaine Wentworth felt was her face being slapped. She held up her hand and muttered, "Stop it." She opened her eyes to see an old woman kneeling over her. "Are you all right now? Who are you and what are you doing here?" "I... I am Mrs. James Wentworth," Elaine replied in a stutter as she lazily lifted up. It took her a moment to figure out why she was on the floor, and looked to the old woman for a reason. "I came to see if Amanda would like to go for a swim, or a massage. She is really the only friend I have on board." The old woman offered her a hand and lifted her up when Elaine took it. "Thank you. And who are you?" "I am Miss Sinclair's maid, Lillian. She is not here. You should be going now." Before Elaine knew it, she was being pushed to the door. Elaine looked to the bed where she now remembered she saw the Mona Lisa of all things. Something such as that could not be imagined; it had to be true. She asked Lillian, "Wasn't there...?" "No. Just Miss Sinclair's ball gown, that was all that was ever on that bed," the maid replied, still moving Elaine to the door. "I hope you didn't faint because you're going to wear the same dress this evening. If you are, no matter. Miss Sinclair has many gowns to wear. She even has a wedding dress. I am her Matron of Honor." "Oh, how nice. I was invited to the festive occasion myself. It will be wonderful, I'm sure. Amanda has such exquisite taste," Elaine told her, and knew that what she thought she had seen was in fact what she had seen by how the pushy maid was trying to get rid of her. When she was out in the hall, Elaine sweetly said, "Tell Amanda that I am looking for her. I will be in my cabin if she is free to do something this afternoon." "Will do," the maid said as she slammed the door. Elaine stared at Amanda's door, and wondered how on earth the Mona Lisa, or a very good copy, got into Amanda's stateroom. It was a puzzle, and Elaine was sure to find out how and why. Before Elaine could think anymore about the matter, a nice young woman who she met the other night at dinner, Rose, came down the hall. They smiled at each other, and Rose stopped. "Mrs. Wentworth, have you seen Mr. Jack Dawson today?" "Jack Dawson? You don't mean that third class immigrant who wrangled himself an invitation to dine in first class, do you?" "He is not an immigrant, and he deserved to dine wherever he pleased because he saved my life," Rose forcefully corrected her. "My mistake. No. I have not seen him. Try F Deck," Elaine said as she walked away. Rose caught up with her. "Elaine. You surprise me. I thought you were nice. Considering your background, you should be-" "I should be what? Allowing all the people in the below decks that are ‘my kind' up to dine with us every evening?" "I meant a little more charitable." "Charity is for wimps. I pulled myself up to a better position, and by the looks that passed between you and Mister," Elaine emphasized, "Dawson, I would say that he is doing the exact same thing I did." "Well, I never!" "I can tell, honey." Elaine walked tall down the hall. ~~~~~ ALA CARTE RESTAURANT "I still cannot believe the audacity of that man," Amanda fumed to Methos. "I mean really, why would I sleep with him when I have you at my disposal?" "How romantic of you, darling," Methos smiled. "Is that all I mean to you is a quick roll in the hay?" "Darling, you have never been just a roll in the hay," Amanda assured him. "You're so much more than that." "So, where shall we go from here?"  "I have no idea, but I'm pleased to see that you did crawl out of bed before noon, as you warned," she reminded him. "A quick cat nap sufficed," Methos explained. "Just needed to catch a little rest." "You're not as young as you used to be." "As you might recall, Amanda darling, I had no problem keeping up with you last night and you are considerably younger than me," Methos quipped. "Since you ignored me earlier, I'll ask again, where to now?" "I don't know, let's start walking and see where we end up, alright?" "Sounds like a plan to me." Methos stood up and reached for her hand. With practiced ease, he tucked her hand snugly into the crook of his arm. "Did I mention how beautiful you look this morning?" Amanda smiled brightly. "No, you didn't." Methos leaned over and kissed her lips. "Well, you look ravishing." Amanda closed her eyes, "Thank you, sir." ~~~~~ PRESENT DAY Joe didn't bother to hide his smile as he looked from Methos to Amanda. "Ya know, if I weren't sitting here listening to this with my own ears, I'd never believe this." "You're getting the whole unvarnished truth, Dawson," Methos affirmed with a pronounced slur, having taken it upon himself to finish off the rather substantial amount of rum punch. "Count yourself lucky. I'm not usually this honest." Amanda patted Methos' knee. "Yes, we know, darling. It's part of your charm." Methos mumbled something unintelligible, to which Amanda just smiled. "We've had some adventures, haven't we?" "Some ended better than others." Methos laid his head back on the chaise to look up at the stars. "What was I thinking letting you talk me into getting on that confounded ship? Or better yet, what was I thinking with?" "Don't be ugly, Methos," Amanda warned him with a sharp pinch of his nose.  "Ow!!" Methos yelped, although the rum deadened most of the pain. "Sorry." "That's better." Amanda kissed his abused nose. "You're forgiven as always." "Thanks." Methos threw his arms and legs out in an all-encompassing stretch. "I've got to piss," he announced. Joe laughed. "So crude. And they say young people are rude, old man." Methos wove just a little as he gained his feet. "Yeah, well, I've lived entirely too long to worry about niceties now, Dawson. Now if you two youngsters will excuse me I'm gonna go tinkle." Methos turned as he made it to the patio door. "Don't continue this yarn until I get back. I am here to ensure accuracy." "Accuracy my ass, Methos. You probably told the first lie," Joe laughed. Methos shook his head, but didn't offer a comment as he went into the house. "He's such a pain in the ass, but I love him," Amanda said when she and Joe were able to stop their laughing. Joe rubbed his tired eyes and said around a large yawn, "He does sort of grow on you." "We can finish this later, if you're tired," Amanda offered, yawning herself.  "You kidding? The old man is talking, willingly I might add. It doesn't happen often and I'm not about to let this opportunity pass me by." "Amanda!" Methos' voice boomed from inside the confines of the house. Amanda rolled her eyes. "Good Lord!" She shoved herself up from the lounge. "I'll be right back, Joe. I shudder to think what his problem is." "Maybe he fell in." Joe's eyes twinkled in amusement.  "If he did, you're fishing him out." Joe watched as Amanda strolled casually into see what Methos was shouting about. The last couple of weeks he'd spent here with them had been eye opening. Admittedly, he was used to seeing Amanda and Duncan together, but it was getting harder and harder to picture that now. Around Amanda, Methos seemed less guarded and more open, telling stories and goofing around. Amanda, although still a bundle of raw energy, appeared more at ease with herself in Methos' presence. Maybe it was because they'd known each so long or perhaps it was they had no pretenses around  each other; whatever it was, Joe was glad. His musings were interrupted by the return of the two immortals. "So, I take it you didn't fall in," Joe snorted. "No, I didn't," Methos retorted as Amanda led him across the patio. "The damn door got jammed." Amanda shook her head. "More like you locked it and couldn't get out." Methos shot the back of her head a withering glare. "You know that bloody thing always does that." "Yeah, only when you're stinking drunk, Methos," Amanda reminded him patiently. "Once again I save your rather remarkable ass." "I'm not drunk," Methos protested before he hiccupped rather loudly. "And I'm the Queen of England," Amanda sighed.  And I thought he and MacLeod were amusing together. Joe watched as Methos shrugged out of her hold and sulked back to the lounge chair. I bet I could book them for the club and make a fortune. Joe asked, "So, if you both were so happy on the Titanic, and you said you were going to get married on Saturday, did you?" His question met with stone silence from both of them. He said, "The ship didn't sink until Sunday or Monday, right? What's the scoop? Did you get married?" "The ship hit the iceberg at 11:40 pm, Sunday, April 14," was all Methos said.  Joe wondered if the trauma of thinking back to that tragic night made them mute, or that their wedding either did or didn't take place. "Come on, what happened?" Amanda looked to Methos, whose eyes flitted back in her direction. All the humor of their time with Joe had gone. She had hoped they could have skirted past the rest of the time on that remarkable ship, and the circumstances that made her wedding to Methos impossible because of human greed and Mother Nature. ~~~~~ SWIMMING POOL Methos, clad in a full body, wide black and white striped swim suit, stuck a toe in to test the temperature of the pool on the bottom deck of the Titanic. He was pleased that it was warm, not hot like the Turkish baths. Since he had never been in a man-made, inside, watering hole, the warm sensation of the water around his feet as he stood on the top step leading into the shallow end of the pool delighted him. He called out, "Come on, Amanda. The water's great." There were some children tossing a ball back and forth in the shallow end of the pool where Methos was, and a man doing laps. Methos was amused when the man stopped swimming and only treaded water as Amanda came out of the ladies' dressing room wearing a white suit. Amanda had the greatest legs Methos had ever seen, and imagined that man hadn't seen such perfection either. Amanda seemed to enjoy the attention of the stranger, much to Methos' entertainment. There was no reason she couldn't enjoy what she did to the opposite sex. He knew now he was the only one she would ever come to for the rest of her life." As she walked to Methos, he studied her form beneath the white suit that set off her tan. The cups of the suit accentuated what she already had on top and the tight material surrounding her hips emphasized her perfect hourglass figure. He reached out his hand for her to take and they walked down the steps into the pool together. He kissed her cheek and whispered, "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." "Oh, how you talk," she replied and dropped down into the water. She was going to swim away, but Methos held onto her leg. "Hey!" She treaded the water perfectly to keep her head above water, and yanked her leg out of his grasp. He plunged down into the water and took her in his arms. "What about me?" "What about you? You maniac. I don't want to get my hair wet." "What about my body?" Her fingers traced his chest and sides, then up his back making his stomach flutter. "It's perfection, but you know that." "Doesn't mean I don't want to hear it." Just as their lips met, Methos cringed to hear a steward clear his throat pool side and say, "Miss Sinclair?" "Another admirer, I presume," Methos told her with a chuckle before looking at him. When he looked into the eyes of the young steward, Methos realized they weren't interrupted for no reason. The young man looked troubled. "What is it?" Amanda asked, pulling away from Methos. "It's your maid. She's been taken to the hospital ward." "There's a hospital on board?" Amanda asked no one in particular, but looked at Methos. "Of course. I will take you there if you wish," the steward said. Amanda was out of the water before he finished. "What happened? Is it bad?" If Lillian had been taken to the hospital, it couldn't be good. Methos grumbled about being interrupted as he got out of the water. He wondered where Herbert was and if anything happened to that mortal also. The steward gave them both terry robes as they got out of the water and said, "I'm not sure what the matter is with her, just that we should find you. She is asking for you." "Let's go," Amanda said, taking Methos' hand. "Don't you want to dress first, ma'am?" the steward asked in a bit of shock as she was only wearing her swim suit and robe. "Lillian is ill, who cares what I'm wearing? Where is she? Lead the way," Amanda demanded as she pulled Methos along behind her. Continued in Part Five