THE YOU'RE IN MY HEART SERIES YOU CAN'T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT by JoLayne and Susan Part Four ~~~~~ HOSPITAL WARD Lillian lay on the hospital bed sapped of her strength and her chest felt like it was on fire. She had to reserve her strength for when Amanda finally arrived. Lillian hoped she wasn't so weak she would miss her, or Amanda would be so mad at her that she wouldn't come. Herbert, bless his heart, hadn't left her side since the doctor and nurses left her alone. It scared her that one mentioned that she had a heart attack and she was hooked up to some machines. They urged her to rest, but she couldn't possibly rest after what she did. She hoped that Miss Amanda wouldn't be too mad at her, and just come... Herbert was holding onto her hand; his face was full of concern. He touched her cheek and she could tell he had been crying. "Just rest, Lil. You'll be fine." "I need to warn..." was all Lillian could say before she closed her eyes, to weak and afraid to continue. Lillian didn't know how long she had her eyes closed, but opened them with the sound of Miss Amanda's voice. "How is she? Heart attack?! Oh God. Where is she?" Lillian saw Herbert pat her hand, more that feel it, as he moved back and Amanda took his place. She couldn't feel her but could see that Amanda was holding her hand and had her other hand on her shoulder. "Lillian? Can you hear me?" "I am so sorry, Amanda. I should not have been-" Lillian tried hard to continue, but couldn't. She was starting to see only black even though she knew her eyes were open. The loud beeping from the machines frightened her even more than Amanda's possible wrath. "Please listen," Lillian said to Amanda, hoping she heard her. She felt Amanda's breath on her cheek and mustered the last bit of strength she had left to tell Amanda, in only a whisper, "It's gone... so beautiful..." She heard Amanda say something but couldn't make out her words. Lillian had so much to say; there was so much that had happened and she had to know that ‘her friend' was not to be trusted. "Elaine... pushed... it's gone..." Lillian said, then felt her chest tighten. ~~~~~ Amanda was pulled back from the bed as the doctor yanked the blanket back from Lillian's body. One nurse took the other side of the bed as the doctor tended Lillian, and another nurse escorted Amanda and Methos back behind a curtain. "No, wait! I should be with her," Amanda argued with the short burly nurse and then felt Methos' arms around her. "She can't be..." "Sh," Methos whispered in her ear as he held her firmly from behind. "They'll do what they can." Amanda turned to hold Methos; she saw Herbert's beet red face. She held out her arm for him to come, and he did. The three of them stood together as they heard the commotion going on just on the other side of the curtain. Then, all was silent. The curtain was pulled back and they saw the apologetic face of the doctor. He told them, "I'm sorry. We couldn't save her." "Her heart?" Methos asked. The doctor nodded. "She had a heart attack and we were able to sustain her for a while. It was as if she needed to speak with you, and then lost her strength to hold onto life. I am so sorry." "I'm sure you did what you could." Methos shook his hand, but Amanda wanted to holler out loud at the frailty of mortal life. Just that morning, Lillian was hostile to Methos and full of elation at her evening with Herbert. Sex couldn't have killed that old woman, could it? She looked at Herbert and didn't want to picture them together, but saw how befuddled and sad he was. Amanda held him and felt his arms go around her back and his sobs heaved on her shoulder. ~~~~~  Methos had taken charge of the situation and herded Amanda and Herbert back to their staterooms. Herbert snuffled loudly on the settee as Amanda patted his hand and consoled him softly while Methos poured them all a large shot of scotch. He patted Herbert on the back as he handed him his drink. The older looking man took the glass with a thankful nod. "This is such a shock," Amanda commented absently. "I mean, Lillian was in poor health, but I never imagined something like this would happen." Herbert let out a small sob and mumbled unintelligibly in French. Methos gave Amanda a sidelong glance and slid his finger across his neck to stop the conversation. Amanda nodded and sat in silence. Herbert stopped his mumbling and rubbed his hands across his eyes. "I think I shall go and lie down, if you don't mind." "Good idea, Herbert, you look exhausted," Amanda encouraged. "Don't worry about a thing. Just rest." Herbert looked to Methos for confirmation. Methos nodded, "Go relax, Herbert. Things will work themselves out." The couple watched Herbert's hunched figure make its way slowly across the room. Amanda wiped away a tear from her cheek and leaned into Methos' arms. He rested his chin on the top of her head and waited patiently for her sobs to subside. Methos winced when Amanda wiped her nose on his robe. Trapped inside Amanda's millennia old body was a little girl who felt things very deeply. "Better now?" Methos asked. "Yeah, I suppose," Amanda pulled away from him. "It's just not fair. I mean they just found each other and we're on this great cruise, and then this happens." "Life rarely is fair, Amanda, you know that," Methos chastised her gently. "They haven't the time to really enjoy life." "So you keep reminding me," Amanda replied. "It still doesn't make things easier to bear." "Darling Amanda, keep that outlook and you won't become jaded like me." Methos kissed her upturned nose. "Keep on caring and you will be all right." "Oh, please." Amanda snuggled in close to him. "You play a good game of being Mr. I Don't Give a Damn, but I know better. Your heart is just as soft as mine, you just don't let it show." "Don't tell anyone, alright?" Methos teased as they sat in the quiet room and let time pass without further comment. After an undetermined amount of time had passed, Amanda pondered aloud, "It's so strange." "Not that strange. Lillian was an old woman; perhaps we shouldn't have brought her along." "No. Not that." She suddenly bolted ramrod straight, startling Methos out of his near doze. "This is my fault?" "Of course not." "Then what did you mean by that?" "By what?" "What you said." "What did I say? I was half asleep. Better yet, what did you say?" After a slight slap on his arm, Amanda sat back against him. "I was thinking about Lillian's last words. She needed to tell me something. What's gone?" "I don't know what you're talking about." Methos was pleased that little hiccup ebbed and folded his arms around her. "What did she tell you?" "She needed to ‘warn' me, she said, ‘It's gone,' I don't know." "Could be the ravings of a woman on her deathbed. I hate to mention this, but she wasn't very clear before we left on this trip." "What people say when they're about to die isn't to be taken lightly. You, of all people, should know that." Amanda flipped Methos' hand back and forth between her own as she thought about all Lillian had told her. "Pushed. Beautiful. What could she mean?" Methos laid his head back against the sofa and wondered if Amanda would be in the mood to return to the swimming pool as they were still wearing their bathing attire. He offered, "She did mention Elaine. I heard that." Amanda rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Elaine? What would Elaine have to do with anything? The poor woman is almost afraid of her own shadow in the midst of all the people with money on this ship." "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Methos came to life. "Are you talking about Elaine Wentworth?" "Yes. Poor woman doesn't even know what kind of jack ass she married." "The jackass that wanted to bed you?" "Well, he's a jack ass with good taste." "Elaine is more worldly than you think she is," Methos adamantly said. "I can read people. I don't think you've thought this through." Amanda gasped as it all came together in her head. With an economy of motion, Amanda launched herself from Methos' arms and knelt beside the bed. Methos asked, "What in the hell are you doing?" "It's gone, just like Lil said!" Methos joined her. "What's gone? Or dare I ask?" "Mona is gone, Methos." Amanda plopped on her bottom. "She's gone and that little, sniveling bitch Elaine took her. Elaine pushed her, and took the painting. Lil had a heart attack because of that trollop!" "What!?" Methos yelled. "Sh!! You'll disturb Herbert," Amanda reprimanded. Methos lowered his voice. "How on the gods' green earth did she find out about the painting?" "I don't know, but I fully intend to find out!" "Whoa!" Methos grabbed her before she could gain her feet and stomp to the door. "You need to calm down before you go anywhere, Missy." "You're not the boss of me!" Amanda stuck out her chin in defiance.  "We'll argue that point later, but we need a plan. You can't go running off hell bent for leather," Methos soothed her. "Do you want to listen to me or not?" Amanda ceased her struggling. No one made better plans than Methos. "I'm listening." Methos stared at the ornately carved ceiling of the stateroom as the wheels were clearly turning in his head. Amanda waited patiently, hoping the plan he would develop would include devious torture, pain, and revenge. Someone took the painting, and Lillian died over it, and that former fandango dancer was the prime suspect. Amanda was envisioning pulling every one of her dyed hairs out of her head when Methos took her arm and lead her to her trunk. "Okay, hun. I know you came up with a perfect plan. Fill me in. How are we going to destroy Elaine, and her simpleton husband at the same time?" Methos opened her trunk to find some of her gowns that she had already worn on the voyage that Lillian had already expertly repacked. Amanda had another round of regret and sorrow for the woman who tended to her so well, was such a good friend, even though they'd only known each other for a few months. Some people you feel you know all your life before you meet them, and Amanda had that feeling with Lillian. There wasn't anything she couldn't tell the woman, except of course, her age, her immortality, and some of her crimes in progress. "What do you want with my clothes?" Amanda asked as Methos turned away from the trunk after sifting through it, and going through her ones yet to wear that were hung in an armoire. Considering she was still in her swim suit and the robe from the changing room, they should get dressed to follow through with what she assumed would be Methos' perfect plan. He pulled out the red silk dress she was going to wear when they dined at the Captain's table for dinner on Sunday afternoon. "Yes, this will do fine," he said as he held it up to her. "I'm not wearing that now. That's for tomorrow." "It's not your wedding dress, is it?" "No. Being that you're going through all my clothes, it's a wonder you didn't see it." She ushered him away from her gowns and took the red one from him. When she found out that she and Methos had been selected to dine with the Captain on that evening, she wanted to make sure she stood out. "Its bad luck, I'm sure of it. Scoot!" She brushed her hand against him to move him back. "Well, pick out another one, a low cut one, and get it on." Before she knew it, Methos had gone into his own stateroom, closing the door behind him. She marched to the door and asked, "What on earth are you thinking?" "I'm thinking," he smiled at her, "that you have to get into the Wentworth stateroom and search for the painting." "Me? Why me? I'd rather track down Elaine-" she said before Methos cut her off. "That is my pleasure, my darling. Take Wentworth up on his offer. When you get to their stateroom, drop a bit of this," he pulled a small bottle of white powder from his satchel, "in whatever he offers you, and make sure he drinks it. While he's out, you can search for the painting." "But–" "No buts about it. The Wentworths' are registered for the dance this evening. Because we know how their marriage really is, it shouldn't take much for you to turn Wentworth's head. Elaine will probably take his absence as an opportunity to dance with Guggenheim or any of the other bachelors on board." He thought the plan would work well; it would give Amanda something to do and feel she was in on it. She did like to be in on everything or she was impossible, and sometimes was a detriment to his careful planning. While she would be busy with the wimp Wentworth, and Elaine would more than likely cherish her husband's absence while surrounded by rich men, Methos would do his own searching for the Mona Lisa. "Just the bachelors?" Amanda smugly replied. Methos was aroused from his plotting by her remark. She continued, "That bitch! I was so wrong about her." "Look at the bright side, luv." Methos sauntered over and took her into his arms. "You're going to marry me; I know better, I will show you the light, and I will watch your back." Just as Amanda was going to snuggle, Methos turned serious. "It was too stupid of you to lose the painting, but I'll get it back." Amanda pounded his chest with her fist. "I can't believe you! First I killed Lillian, now I lost the painting? If I remember correctly, you said the painting was in your control, luv, so you lost it, not me." "Amanda, now's not the time to argue the subtleties of placing blame. Get dressed." "Who am I to argue with the wisdom of the aged?" Amanda said half serious, half joking. When Methos formulated a plan, it was guaranteed to be a success. "It's about time you learned that," Methos replied. "Now get dressed. You have a weasel to seduce." Amanda made sure she had Methos' full attention as she undressed. She particularly adored the way his eyes gleamed when he studied her. They might not have time to act on their impulses, but she knew how important it was to keep the fires flamed since tomorrow at this time, they'd at long last be man and wife. She waltzed over to where he sat. "I need your help with this." She presented her back so he could fasten her dress. Expertly, his fingers flew up the row of buttons. He let his fingers caress her skin lightly as they went. "My, you're good. Exactly how much practice have you had at this, darling?" "Enough," he admitted cheekily. "Surely, you don't think I've whiled away my time in a monastery between your visits." Amanda pouted. She wasn't naive enough to think he'd been celibate between their romps and heaven knows she wasn't, but she didn't like to be reminded. "You can be so lewd." "Yes, I can't say that I've ever heard you complain," he pointed out. "Are you ready to take the stage?" Amanda pushed aside her annoyance. "As they say in the theater, break a leg." She performed a dramatic bow that displayed her uplifted bosom to his watching eyes. "Shall we?" His lusty stare raked over her. "Oh, we shall, later. For now we've a painting to rescue." Amanda held out her arm to him. "Let's go over the plan one more time." Methos smiled as he made it up as he went along. "You and your assets need to go and charm James. Talk a little, have a drink, and slip him the drug. Once he's out, find the painting and make a break with Mona if you find her. Understand?" "And you're going to take care of Elaine, correct?" "Correct." He stood up. After all, she might hit the jackpot and find Mona. All this agitation he was feeling would then be for naught. Amanda did surprise him and come across treasure with pure luck and quick thinking. "If you can't get the painting back here without being noticed, stow it somewhere out of sight and we'll retrieve her later. Just keep your calm and don't get your dander up. This will all work if you concentrate on the task at hand." Methos dug in his trunk and then handed Amanda an ornately carved dagger. "Take this. If James gets out of hand, use it." "But–" Amanda protested.  "No, buts, Amanda." Methos closed her fingers around the ivory hilt. "I don't think he's dangerous, however, I am wrong on seldom occasions. I'd give you my gun, but you're better with a blade than a gun. Besides, as big as this confounded ship is, it'd still be hard not to hear a gunshot." "You think of everything," Amanda said with awe. "You know, my contacts in New York can get us all the jobs we want." "No thanks, Amanda. I prefer to stay out of jail." "But you know you had a good time with Butch and Sundance," she reminded him. "They even told me you were the best planner they ever had." "Yes, well," Methos puffed up at the praise. "That's beside the point. The older I get the less attention I care to draw." "We could make a fortune," she coaxed. "I already have a fortune," he retorted. "Several fortunes, in fact."  Amanda didn't try to hide the greed in her brown eyes. Methos laughed heartily. "More than even you can spend, darling." "Have I mentioned recently how much I love you?" Amanda purred. She tucked the dagger into her garter belt, smoothed her dress, and took one look at herself in the mirror above the fireplace. After one last readjustment of her breasts peeking demurely from her low cut dress, she turned to Methos. "What's next?" He had already opened the door when he said, "Make our appearance at the dance, then go to work." He would find Mona right quick, if it was the last thing he did. ~~~~~ FIRST CLASS LOUNGE Amanda didn't remember ever feeling better then she did at this moment. She was wearing a fabulous dress, on Methos' arm of whom she had always felt was the perfect man for her, and all eyes drifted in their direction as they walked into the lounge. She almost felt like a princess. Tomorrow, she would be a queen; she would be Methos' wife with the priceless painting safely tucked away. The room that usually held round tables for four were removed and the plush carpeting had been covered by a raised dais that constituted the dance floor. The chandeliers were turned low, giving the room a seductive mood. The band, led by Wallace Hartley, was set up in the corner of the dais and were playing a slow waltz. She and Methos bowed their heads at the other guests who greeted them as they made their way to the dance floor. Amanda laid one hand on Methos' shoulder as he took her other, his hand strategically placed on the small of her back, the exact spot where she would usually go wild when he would lick it. She had to get that painting back so they could get back to their room and enjoy the eve of their wedding properly. Of course, promptly at the stroke of midnight, she would make him leave her. It would be bad luck for them to see each other the day of their wedding; a groom must see his bride for the first time as she was walking down the aisle. Suddenly, Amanda was filled with grief. Lillian was going to be her matron of honor. As her eyes gazed over the extravagant room, filled with people in attire probably worth more than Lillian could have ever afforded, Amanda felt guilty. She had hoped to treat Lillian to some of the finer things on board for being so nice to her during her months with the Earl. They had gotten along so well, and so quickly. She felt even more guilty when she realized that she hadn't spent a lot of time with the old woman since they had boarded the Titanic. Most of her time had been filled with Methos. Methos obviously could see the sorrow in her eyes as he asked softly, "What's the matter?" "I miss her. She would have loved to have been to this ball." "Lillian?" he asked. When she nodded, he wrapped both of his arms around her, then softly patted her head as she cried on his shoulder. "We just have to work that much harder to get that painting back, and–" "And make that bitch pay." Amanda sniffed and dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief as she searched the room for that two faced hussy and her weasel of a husband. "No one kills my friends; no one steals from me." Methos chuckled. "You stole it first, but that's neither here nor there. That painting belongs back in the Louvre, and that's where it's going." They heard a laugh across the room. When Amanda first heard it a couple of days before, she thought it sweet. Hearing it now was equivalent to nails on a blackboard. Methos looked down at Amanda in his arms and said, "Sounds like the trollop is happy." "Which means the weasel can't be around her." "Time to go to work, luv," he replied, planting a kiss on her. She didn't need a kiss for good luck, but a kiss was a kiss, and she savored it. When their lips parted and she felt Methos' arms around her, his breath fanning her face, she smiled up at him renewed. Her grief over losing Lillian was now turned to a healthy form of well placed revenge. She would have it. He whispered, "Remember to use the dagger if you need to, and do not forget to use the knock out drops." "I am well versed at incapacitating men, my love. You don't have to worry. I will have the Mona and will meet you back at your stateroom before ten o'clock." "Get to it then." Methos rubbed her rear. "I'll be waiting for you." "What are you going to be doing?" "Making sure Mrs. Wentworth doesn't interrupt you." "Do you have any knockout drops at your disposal, hun?" He replied, "I won't need them." "You'd better not get into trouble. I want you all to myself, if only for a couple of hours before midnight." He turned them away from the bar that was set up in an opposite corner of the lounge. "Your prey is getting a glass of wine." Amanda spotted Elaine chatting with Molly Brown and another matron just off the edge of the dais. "Your target is right over there." She tilted her head in their direction. "I guess we know where to turn next." Amanda gave Methos one last kiss and sadly pulled away. "Let the games begin." "Play nice, unless it's not possible," he told her, to which she giggled as she zeroed in on the wimp she would have no trouble seducing. ~~~~~ Methos waited on the dance floor surrounded by waltzing couples as Amanda disappeared through the crowd. She had a way of moving when she was on the hunt, and for a moment, Methos felt a hint of jealousy. He laughed at the ridiculousness of the emotion. When the crowd parted at times, he was able to see Amanda sidle up to James Wentworth just as he was turning away from the bar. Methos noticed that Elaine was still the social butterfly with her band of companions. He slowly made his way back, off the dance floor, and out the back entrance of the lounge. After ending up in the Aft Grand Staircase, Methos flew up the steps to B Deck and rushed through the portal to the hall that led to their staterooms. He rushed into his stateroom and called out, "Herb!" He heard a rustling of the bed sheets from Herbert's servant room adjoining his own, and went to the door. "You have to do something for me. I know you feel terrible about what's happened to Lillian, but this is very important." Herbert, in his long johns, obviously having just tried to nap, sat up on the edge of his bed and rubbed his red stained cheeks and eyes. "What? What do you want for me to do?" "You have to get dressed and go down to the wireless room to see if James or Elaine Wentworth have sent any telegrams." Herbert rubbed his wayward gray hair and asked, "What?" Methos grabbed Herbert's trousers from the chair and implored him with a compassionate face. "Please, Herb, it's a matter of two scoundrels having murdered Lillian and getting away with a priceless painting." "The Mona Lisa," Herbert said, seemingly more awake. Methos didn't want to take the time to get the scoop of how Herbert and Lillian found out about it; there was no time. Hopefully by now, Amanda was busy with Wentworth, Elaine was busy gloating and ‘fitting in' with her ‘peers', while he would investigate on his own. Herbert would see if anyone, namely Elaine or James had notified the outside world of their find. Methos rushed Herbert to dress as he related all that he needed to do. He felt good that Herbert said that this little favor would take his mind off losing Lillian. Methos agreed. The worst thing one could do was wallow in grief, and Methos would be helped at the same time. ~~~~~ Amanda giggled, like what she felt was an idiot, along with James Wentworth as he fumbled through his pant pockets for the key to his stateroom. She asked once again, with a bit of frightened urgency for his benefit, "You do not think Elaine will find us, do you?" "Oh, no," he told her as he produced the key. "We have an arrangement. This evening she was going to go her way, I was going to go mine." He opened the door and put the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the outer knob. "That is the cue for her to find somewhere else, I am busy." Amanda was taken by surprise when Wentworth suddenly seemed to have eight arms, and every one of them was pulling her into the stateroom and exploring her body. "Hold on there, sailor." Wentworth kicked the door shut behind him and frowned at her, still not taking his hands off her. "Excuse me?" "You may take an affair very lightly, but it is not every day I cheat on my fiancé," Amanda said, having to cull every single way to fend off unwanted advances as she smiled sweetly but seductively at him. Wentworth swooped in. He started kissing her neck as his arm was locked behind her back and his other hand had plunged down her neckline and squeezed her breast. When she thought the only way to fend him off would be to knee him in the groin, she just shrieked, "OH! You are a devil." He lifted his head only to grin at her. "I know what I want, and when I have it, I do not let it go." "Oh!" She shrieked again as the front of her dress was pulled down and her breasts were chilled by the air, and his touch. Don't knee him, don't knee him, I have to search this room. Do not knee him, was all Amanda could think as she tried to fight him off without seeming like she was fighting him off. She kept backing off from him and soon she was flattened against one of the gold posts of his and Elaine's four poster bed. ~~~~~ Herbert stood at the door of the wireless room and looked fore and aft the deck to make sure there was no one around. He knew that there would be a wireless operator inside, and he was ready to recite the hastily prepared speech that Roger had given him. He cleared his throat and knocked on the door. From inside, he heard a harried voice exclaim, "It's about bloody time!" Herbert tried the door handle and the door opened without complaint. He stuck his head in the little room to see a dark haired young man sitting in front of the telegraph machine. He turned around to exclaim, "You aren't Bride. You can't be in here. Go away. I've enough messages to relay." Herbert stepped over the portal and closed the door. "I beg your pardon, sir, but I have a very important request of you." He felt his pocket and the wad of pound notes that Roger had given him in case bribery wouldn't be out of the question. "I don't have time!" The man looked as frazzled as he sounded.  "Perhaps if you help me, I would help you," Herbert suggested. The man turned around in his chair, his finger off the tapping button, and stared Herbert down. "Do you know Morse code?" "Yes, as matter of fact I do. I was a wireless operator in the war." The man let out a somewhat relieved laugh and took his headphones off and dropped them on the desk. He wiped his hand against his hair roughly. "My shift was over an hour ago and Bride's not back, and the passengers on board are obviously not doing anything but drafting telegrams to friends and relatives." He lifted a large stack of cards and let them flutter back to the table. "When I get that stack sent, those still have to go out," he said pointing to a large box in the corner filled with cards, notes, letterhead that could be found in staterooms, and even matchboxes with scribbling on them. "I see you have your hands full," Herbert charitably said. "You are at your post all alone?" "Only one at a time, twelve hour shifts. I didn't know it would be so intense when I signed up. I'd actually rather be on a warship." The young man laughed lightly. "Less messages to relay, and all of them are important." He picked up a couple of cards at random. "‘Tell Trudie the voyage is fun,' ‘Wish you were here,' ‘You should see our room,' ‘Make sure Rodney has the car at the dock when we make port'. You'd think Bride and I have nothing better to do than send this rubbish." "If you would allow me to search through the most recent passenger telegrams, I will help you send them out." The man scrutinized Herbert up and down, and then smiled. "You're on. What harm could that do? What passenger were you interested in?" "James or Elaine Wentworth." Herbert was somewhat surprised that he didn't have to give that speech he had memorized. "Doesn't ring a bell," he said, turning back to the Marconi and putting his headphones back on. "I haven't sent one, and I've been here for a full shift already. You can try that box. But be quick. My finger could use a rest." Herbert bent down to sift through the box. ~~~~~ Methos smiled when Percy, the Assistant Purser, lifted his wooden window after the ringing of the bell. "Good evening," he instantly said, hoping he had left a good impression with Percy during their last encounter. "You again." Percy immediately picked up the Cargo Manifest and held it protectively to his chest. Methos chuckled. "I just want to know if Mr. Wentworth, a business associate of mine, has put anything into Cargo Hold since we last spoke." "Business partner? You are Roger Sothem, correct," Percy asked. His steely eyes weren't at all welcoming. "Yes. I'm quite flattered you remember. My business partner is James Wentworth. He and I are investing in a company that will be able to cool off and refresh inside air." "Oh, that's a good one," Percy said.  "Yes, it is a visionary prospect." Methos leaned his arms on the ledge between them, Percy in his little booth, Methos in the little room. "Wentworth told me that he put the accounts in cargo hold, and I need them. I have to send out a Marconi to our business partners in New York and I don't have the figures." "May I offer a suggestion?"  "Of course." "Just ask Mr. Wentworth for them." "No, no, no, no," Methos said. "I can't possibly do that." "Why, may I ask not, sir?" "Did you notice the time?" At that moment, Percy checked his pocketwatch. "It's past nine o'clock. If you know anything about my partner, it's that he is a newlywed to a pretty fetching lass, and they are... shall we say... occupied... at the moment? Hm?" Methos could see Percy ponder that one, but remained silent. Methos knew that Percy was just the Assistant Purser and didn't want the kid to get into trouble. Hell, he didn't want anyone in trouble, but that little man had to help him out. Just a Cargo Hold compartment. That's all he needed. The only safe place on board ship was Cargo Hold, they had to have put the Mona Lisa there. Methos continued, "I need those figures to give my people in New York so they can make the appropriate adjustments when the stock market opens on Monday morning." "Why do you need them this evening?" Methos smiled, and then broke into a laugh. "Because if you know anything about me, Captain Smith is making Miss Sinclair my wife tomorrow afternoon." "Congratulations." "Thank you. Needless to say, I will not be thinking about business after the sun comes up. I need to get this done now, so I can enjoy my honeymoon. You can understand that, can't you?" "Well, sir..." Percy said. "Why doesn't Wentworth just get his own account book and inform your business partners himself over the weekend? The markets are not open until Monday morning." "If you know anything else about Wentworth, and I can see that you don't know him at all, he can barely do the math on two plus four. I'm the brains of the operation; he is the social butterfly. Together, we're all going to one day have something called air conditioning. Can you help me out so I can enjoy my wedding and honeymoon? Just tell me what compartment he has his possessions in, so I can send the figures to the wireless room, get a good night's sleep, and get married tomorrow." Percy just stared at him like a child not knowing what to do. Methos decided to up the offer. Just helping his fellow man wasn't going to cut it. He slipped a 100 pound note on the ledge and asked, "Okay?" ~~~~~ Amanda had a hell of a time with Wentworth. Who knew he would be so carnal? She cautioned him with her hand up, "Do not spoil this James. Good things come to boys who wait." Wentworth got to his knees and growled, to what she assumed he thought was sexy. When he pretended he was a dog, taking exaggerated bites at her, she grumbled, Oh, God. The things I do for you, Methos! There had to have been a better plan. "Stay!" she told Wentworth, and to her surprise, he froze. That wickedly sly look on his face almost made her laugh, but she found a way to tame him. He liked to play. Okay, let the game continue. She looked down at herself and saw why he was literally drooling. The top of her dress was around her waist. Amanda straightened her posture to give him the perfect view of her assets since he had already seen them, and asked in her perfected little girl voice, "Could I get something to drink, sir?" Irritatingly, he growled his consent and crawled on all fours to the cabinet across the room. Her eyes rolled to the ceiling as she took a deep breath, felt the dagger in her boot, and pulled the vial of knockout drops from inside her sash and hid it in her hand. When she turned around to face him, ready to find the opportunity to spike his drink, she gasped. The Mona Lisa was on the table. It was just laying there, face up, not even wrapped. What imbeciles! Don't they even know what they have?! Apparently James and Elaine's wealth didn't insure their intelligence. Amanda hid her smile as James looked at her with unadulterated lust. This was going to be like taking candy from a baby. "How about that drink, James?" Amanda purred. James got up from the floor and poured them each a stiff shot of brandy. "Thank you, sir," Amanda lowered her eyes demurely, then raised them in wide-eyed surprise when he handed her the drink. "Oh my, I think I hear someone outside the door!" "I assure you Elaine is not going to be bothering us, Amanda," James said before he sipped his drink casually. Amanda's hand fluttered to her heart, "Please look just to be sure. I'm little nervous about this." She gasped, "What if Roger followed me?" James assured her, "I'm sure you are just hearing things." His fingers eased off his glass and came to rest on her thigh. "Now where were we?" "I just won't be able to relax," Amanda said as she pushed his hand away, "not knowing what is lurking in the hall." She pulled out the big guns and batted her eyelashes, a maneuver that usually made mere mortal males do exactly as she wanted. "I'd feel so much better if you checked." James muttered, but he strode to the door. Using slight of hand refined over centuries, Amanda deftly dumped the contents of the vial into his drink. Her finger hurried along the dissolving process; without thinking, she lifted her finger to her mouth to rid it of the evidence. Oh damn, she thought, remembering the potency of the drug. It wouldn't kill her, but she didn't want to contend with any wonky side effects and the lecherous James at the same time. She could almost hear Methos snickering at her near mistake. "Oh, shut up!" she said aloud. "Pardon me?" Amanda saw the confused look on James' face. "I said hurry up," she covered. "Is the coast clear?" "Clear as a bell!" James moved swiftly back to Amanda. "I've never seen anyone who rivals your exquisite beauty, Amanda. It's almost sinful for someone to be so beautiful," he observed. He lowered his mouth to hers and nearly choked her with his tongue as his hands roamed up to fondle her breasts clumsily. "God in heaven, I want you!" Amanda counted to ten in her head, then to fifty. James' ham-fisted attempts at seduction made her want to scream. The man had no flair or finesse. Perhaps, she had become jaded to anyone but Methos' overwhelming touch. However, when she felt him lick her neck much like the dog he'd just pretended to be, she knew he had to be a lousy lover. "Oh, James, you're driving me mad," Amanda panted trying to make her reaction ring true. "I've never been with anyone like you." She meant every word she said, although not the way he obviously thought as he continued pawing her. "Let's finish our drinks and then," Amanda's smile promised him everything he wanted. "Alrighty then." He upturned the drink and guzzled it down never noticing the minuscule amount of residue that trailed after the last of the brandy. He tossed the glass to the floor and pounced on Amanda before she could move. She did her best to return his affections to keep the charade going. This better be over quick! His hands were roaming all over her body as his mouth did its own plundering. I'm so going to be needing a bath when this is over! She almost shouted with joy when she felt James grow heavy against her and the intensity of his attentions slowed. She pulled his face up from her neck. His eyelids were heavy and from what she could see of his eyes they were dilating nicely. In a few more minutes he'd be sleeping the sleep of dumb and oblivious. "James," she moaned getting into the act. "Oh, James!"  She heard him mumble and then felt the full weight of his body crumple onto hers. She shifted so she could breath and waited patiently. His heavy breathing turned to loud, rumbling in minutes. Jostling him with enough force to see if he was indeed out of it, she slithered out from under him. She clapped her hands and twirled around excitedly. Methos' plan worked just like clockwork. They made quite a team! If only she could persuade Methos to join her in her profession full time. "Now, let's go old girl," Amanda reminded herself why she was here.  Mona. She looked around the stateroom for a sheet or throw to cover the infamous painting. It wouldn't do for her to be seen by anyone on board. Amanda yanked a velvet throw off a bedside chair and proceeded to wrap the painting to hide her from prying eyes. That task accomplished, she paused before the mirror and readjusted her clothes. She wiped a stray bit of saliva from her neck and grimaced. She almost pitied Elaine for having such an imbecile for a lover, but Lillian's memory chased that feeling away quickly. Amanda glanced at the dresser. Elaine's jewels littered the top of the piece of furniture and hung out of the jewelry box. A ruby and diamond bracelet was shoved into a corner of the dresser, a silk scarf nearly concealing it. The beauty sparkled, beckoning Amanda to pick it up. She could feel the tingling sensations in her fingers, the need to have it was too strong to ignore. Amanda pursed her lips and tapped her foot on the carpeted floor. She was just here to get her and Methos' blasted painting back and exact some revenge, not lift some jewels, but it was an urge too tempting nonetheless. Her hand snatched it from its resting place and she nestled it into the valley between her breasts for safekeeping. "Let's go, Mona." Amanda lifted the carefully wrapped painting. "I'm taking you back to papa." ~~~~~ FRIDAY APRIL 12, 1912 Methos hit the stairs of the Grand Staircase in frustration. After his payoff to Percy, he had been able to scour the Cargo Manifest, to find that Wentworth hadn't delegated care of anything to the White Star Line since their arrival on board on departure day. There was no need going down to Cargo Hold to search. Methos had the inkling to anyway, but the task of finding a small piece of wood with masterful strokes of paint upon it would certainly be equivalent to finding an honest man in a gambling parlor. When he had sent Amanda to sidetrack James, he was certain that the painting would be safely stored in there. Surely the Wentworths wouldn't be so stupid as to hide a painting of Mona's notoriety in their cabin after they'd stolen it. Returning empty handed to his stateroom, he realized he'd given them more credit than they deserved. They would obviously want to hide it, not only from the passengers and Titanic staff at large, but from his and Amanda's revenge as well. When he had retrieved it from Cargo Hold, he knew what he was doing. His only mistake in that regard was having two others in their room that could spot it. It was just a house of cards after that. Methos had a strange thought as he walked down the hall to his stateroom, glancing at his pocketwatch to see that it was almost ten. Since the Mona Lisa wasn't in the Cargo Hold, Mona's return just might lay in Amanda's hands. The thought sobered him immediately. Normally, Amanda was the most adept thief he knew, but she was still having feelings of revenge and well, Amanda and that emotion never mixed with good results. Hence the reason he wanted to keep her busy while he investigated other options so she wouldn't ask questions. Inside his stateroom, Herbert was sitting with a grin in a chair. "Hey, how are you doing?" he asked the Frenchman. His mind was still on Amanda, in the hands of that simpleton a deck above and crossed his fingers and hoped that for once she'd keep her mind on the job and not on revenge. Then he laughed. Stranger things had happened. The grin that emanated from Herbert was confusing for Methos. He had to still be feeling the effects of Lillian's unfortunate demise, but he was grinning like the Cheshire cat. That could only mean that he had something up his sleeve. Good for him! Methos thought triumphantly. Herbert retrieved a telegram from his breast pocket and handed it to Methos. As Methos unfolded the paper, he was surprised to read the contents. He had just sent Herbert for something to do. If worse came to worse, he might at least have a name that Wentworth was planning on selling the Mona Lisa to. Who knew the old man would actually come up with the entire plan the Wentworth's had?! Methos popped Herbert good-naturedly on the arm and had to reread the message again, just to make sure he had interpreted the brief note correctly. He cautioned himself that he had overestimated Wentworth's intelligence already; he had to read it again with fresh eyes to see if his assumption could have been what Wentworth had meant. KENNETH JUDPER, 832 LIBERTY ROAD, PHILADELPHIA, PA  MEET 19 APRIL SOUTH DOCK STOP BUSINESS OPPORTUNITY OF A LIFETIME STOP READY FARNSWORTH STOP JAMES WENTWORTH END OF MESSAGE "Had this been sent out?" Methos asked. "Yes, it had," Herbert said a bit dejectedly. "It was sent this morning." "That's all right. I know the painting isn't leaving the ship, so if we lose track of it again, at least I know where it will end up." As soon as he said those words, Herbert's face brightened again. "Good work, old chap." "We've always been a good team," Herbert said jovially. "Along with Amanda and Lillian–" Herbert's body suddenly started to rock with sorrow. Tears came to his red eyes and he couldn't continue. Methos patted his shoulder. Herbert had a slight diversion from his grief, and still thought of that annoying woman as alive and maybe a part of a new alliance, a quartet. "It will be all right, Herbert," Methos told him, but knew that the man had to have taken to Lillian quickly, and when Herbert fell for a woman, he fell hard. Methos didn't know if it would be all right for Herbert, but he assumed it would be nice to hear anyway. When Herbert started crying, Methos pulled him close and almost had to hold him up as he wept. The door burst open and Amanda, a flat, velvet wrapped bundle in her arm, said, "Knock it off, fellas. We have company." Methos helped Herbert to a chair and instantly realized just how old and feeble Herbert had gotten as he watched Amanda lay her bundle triumphantly on his bed. He crossed to it, and about shit when he saw the Mona Lisa's forehead exposed. He grabbed Amanda into a solid hug as he said, "I can't believe you got it! Where was it?" "Right there on their table, can you imagine? We have to check it to see those imbeciles didn't harm it in any way, and..." Her eyebrows furrowed and she countered, "What do you mean you can't believe I got it. That was the plan, right?" "Of course, darling." Methos kissed her on her pert nose. He had just wanted to make sure Amanda was occupied so he could retrieve it, knowing it had to have been safely hidden in the Cargo Hold. "On the table?"  "As if it was a place mat."  Her excitement shone through and had seemingly forgotten his little lapse at trusting the luck that Amanda carried with her. All at once, he was even more convinced that marrying Amanda was the best decision he had ever made. They were quite the team, and he was glad she was on his side. "I am pleased you got her back, ma'am, Roger," Herbert said as he wiped his eyes with his kerchief. "Just how did you and Lillian find out about her?" "Lillian was searching for her hairbrush and couldn't find it." "She did have bad eyes," Amanda said sorrowfully. "She looked under your bed for it. If I might suggest, Roger," Herbert said, getting out of the chair. "You put it someplace safer. I am not going to ask how and why you have her, just please, put her back where she belongs." "That's the plan," Methos told him. "Are you all right?" "No, but I can walk. I am going to see if I can sleep. Tomorrow will still be a big day, right? Lillian would hate that you miss your wedding because of her." Methos hadn't thought that a possibility. For an instant he wondered if he had misinterpreted Amanda and Lillian's friendship. She couldn't be so bereaved about Lillian's passing that she wouldn't want to get hitched, would she? Lillian was, after all, going to be her matron of honor. There were only going to be two witnesses to their wedding, and one of them would be absent. He looked to Amanda, whose face fell as she sat alongside the Mona Lisa, her hand gently brushing the velvet that surrounded the masterpiece. She finally spoke. "Herbert, I am saddened by Lillian's death, but I've waited too long to let anything get in the way of marrying Roger. That doesn't make me a bad person, does it?" Methos' face changed direction to see what Herbert's reaction would be. "No, Amanda. Lillian would have wanted you to go ahead with your plans. She was happy that you were happy." Methos thought that was a loyal servant's attitude. He may have misjudged the old bat after all. "Roger's quite a catch. You marry him, and I will make sure he gets to the altar on time." Amanda smiled warmly and went to Herbert to tenderly place her hands on his cheeks. She kissed him. Methos could see his red face get a bit redder by Amanda's action. She told Herbert, "Thank you. On Sunday, we will plan how we will get Lillian back to England and notify her family. She will have a fitting memorial, the cost, not a worry." "I would like that. Good night, and remember, you mustn't see your bride on the day of the wedding, Roger." "I've heard." Methos smiled at Herbert as he walked into his room and closed the door. Methos and Amanda stood together for a moment, as they heard Herbert putter around in his room. Amanda laid her head on Methos' shoulder when they heard only silence from the other room. "So," he said. "What do we do with Mona?" "With the door locked and with us, she is safe." Amanda turned in his arms and untied his tie. As his neck was exposed, she peppered his face and neck with kisses as she said, "For now, I really don't want to think about that painting, or Lillian, Herbert's grief, or anything." He felt his shirt open and her chilled hands massaging his chest. She continued her pecks down his chest as she said, "I just want you one last time in sin. One last time before we are married tomorrow." "Surely, you don't believe that nonsense about not seeing each other," Methos chided her. "All a bunch of bad luck baloney made up to make it rough on those involved." "I think it's kind of romantic," Amanda replied. "Not seeing each other makes it so much better when you finally do." "I don't buy into it, Amanda. Sorry." Methos sighed when her hands slipped further down to rest loosely around his waist. "I'm too old to believe in bad luck. Our lives are what we make them." "Cynic," Amanda pouted. "No matter what you say, I still think it's a romantic notion." Methos kissed away her pout. "Believe whatever you want to, Amanda. Just because I don't believe in something, doesn't mean you can't." "As if you could stop me." Amanda's saucy smile sent a jolt of desire through Methos. Her smile only grew wider when she felt the evidence of his wanting straining against his trousers. "My, darling," she purred. "A girl always likes to know she's appreciated." "Appreciation is hardly the word I'd use to describe what I'm feeling about you at this moment." Methos let his hands pull her nearer to him. "More like adoration, reverence, or worship." Amanda blushed at his words. "Flattery will get you everywhere." Methos swept her up in his arms. "Flattery is wasted on you, luv. Every word I said was truth." "Really?" "When have I ever lied to you?" He stopped when he heard her begin to laugh. "Let me revise my previous statement, when have I ever lied to you about anything important?" Her laughter only escalated, which Methos didn't appreciate. Without a word, he walked over to his bed and tossed her on it. "Oh, come on, Methos." Amanda sat up and tried to quell her laughter. "You asked me and I couldn't help laughing." "Yes, I noticed." Methos' tight lipped frown finally put a halt to her gaiety. "I don't find any humor in you discounting what I have to say." "I'm sorry, really, I am." Amanda patted the bed. "Something bothering you?" Methos shoved her gently out of his way and sprawled on the bed. "I don't think you are taking tomorrow seriously enough." "Whoa! Wait a minute." Amanda turned her full attention to him. "Repeat what you just said because I'm sure I misunderstood you." "Knock it off, Amanda." "I've waited almost my whole life for this and you think I'm not taking it seriously," Amanda fumed. "You're finally losing it, Methos." "Roger," Methos reminded her, which only earned him a withering glare. "Tomorrow is an important day." "You're nervous, aren't you?" Amanda asked. When he didn't answer, she straddled his hips and cupped his chin so they were looking each other straight in the eye. "Tell me the truth." "Alright, I'm nervous. Happy?" Amanda smiled, "Why? I mean it's not like this is the first time you've ever been married." "No, but it is the first time I've married another immortal," Methos reminded her. "You're not regretting asking me are you?" Amanda looked worried. He couldn't take the proposal back now, could he? "Are you?" "I'd never have asked you if I didn't mean it, Amanda," Methos assured her. "You know that I never do something unless I want to and I do want to marry you." "So we're still getting married tomorrow just like we planned?" "Of course, Amanda. I said I was nervous, that doesn't mean I don't want to marry you. It would take an act of the gods to keep me from marrying you tomorrow." He groaned when Amanda squirmed against him. "Now, either stop that or remove that confounded dress!" Amanda's hands swiftly discarded the red velvet garment. "Anything your heart desires." "Maybe marriage to you won't be so terribly bad," Methos joked. "Might tame that wild streak of yours a bit." Amanda's mouth and tongue trailed down his stomach as her fingers flew to undo his belt and trousers. "I thought you liked me wild and untamed." Her eyes gleamed up at him promising him a night of wanton abandon. "Can't take a joke, Amanda?" Methos kidded.  All rational thought was discarded when she lowered herself onto him with calculated deliberation. She smiled when his back arched off the mattress, his hands clutching at the silk sheets. She leaned forward and teased his mouth open with her tongue coaxing his into her own mouth. The kiss grew more heated until they were both panting heavily. "Now, would prefer me to be more subdued?" Her hips lifted and then just as swiftly came to a rest. "Submission is not your best quality," Methos moaned as she continued to move. "This, however, is one of your best." "I'll take that as a compliment." Amanda didn't stop her movement. She watched as his muscles rippled and tensed as he began to move with her. "It was meant as one."  Methos gripped her waist and then his hands roamed up the smooth ivory flesh of her stomach to her full breasts. His thumbs teased the rose colored buds into twin peaks. While one hand caressed the stiffening peaks, the other circled up and around to her neck pulling her down for another kiss. When his mouth grew tired off the kiss he trailed a string of wet kisses down the column of her neck and traced the length of her collarbone. He smiled when she moaned and pressed hard onto him. With a swift economy of motion, he rolled them over so he was the one on top. Amanda opened her mouth to protest her loss of control, but the sensation of his mouth closing over an erect nipple quieted any complaints she might have had. He trapped her hands over her head with one hand to keep her hands from giving him pleasure. It was her turn to be seduced. One by one each of her breasts were gently fondled by his tongue, mouth, and spare hand. She nearly screamed as he moved inside her, first slow then faster with each stroke. Her hands were released when his concentration turned fully to his movements inside her. Her hands clawed at his bare back encouraging him to move faster, her long legs circled around his still clothed waist pulling him as close as was physically possible. Methos needed no further encouragement as he brought them both to the brink of climax. Almost simultaneously, they shuddered and rocked against other. Amanda pulled his head down to hers and kissed him as she felt the waves crash against her. His forehead rested against her shoulder as his final thrusts brought him the mind shattering climax that always came with making love to the woman who lay contented beneath him. "I love you." His words were a solemn reverent whisper. "Yes, I know." Her hand caressed his neck. "And I love you." Methos curled himself around her and feel asleep murmuring words of love to her as she snuggled in close. Amanda relished the feeling of him so close. Tomorrow would be the beginning of an eternity with him. She giggled. Dreams did come true after all. She lay in the still quiet listening to him breath until the clock chimed midnight. She carefully sat up in order not to wake him. She didn't need his teasing her about sneaking off to follow the tradition. She pulled his shoes off and then slid his pants down and off. Thankfully, he didn't fight her and snuggled under the covers when she pulled them over him. Leaning down she kissed him softly on the mouth. Methos returned her kiss, and planted his hand behind her neck. She resisted all impulse to get back into bed with him and pulled away, taking his hand and gently kissing it as she stepped back. "You can't possibly still be thinking of leaving me." "Only for thirteen hours, my love," she tried to muster calm and rational feelings, but it was so hard when all she felt was untamed lust for the man soon to be her husband. Her eyes lowered away from the sight of his well defined abdomen before she lost all resolve to follow what was becoming, in her mind, an increasingly dumb tradition. Of course, Methos proved to be little help, reading her hesitation with a practiced eye. He smirked as he ran his index finger lightly over his chest and teased at his nipple. She gasped as his hand trailed down the sculpted muscles of his stomach and slid underneath the blankets. Amanda bit her lip and tried not to pounce on the candy. She repeated, "Only for thirteen... long... unbearable... hours," as she made her sole focus the ceiling. "What is thirteen times sixty..." she said, thinking math would take her mind off what her fiancé was doing. "Drop the zero... eight... carry the one... six plus one... only 780 minutes, my love." As Methos sucked in breath, vigorously massaging himself, he laid his head back on his pillow, seemingly ignoring her. She spouted, "You are so bad." "This is much more fun than math... I would welcome company." Amanda drew the blanket back with a sudden jerk and Methos gasped as the chill in the air hit him. He wasn't going to get all the pleasure, damn it! She took his hands and laid herself on top of him. In her little girl voice, she appealed earnestly, "May I have some, sir?" Methos released himself and flipped her over on the bed grinning wildly. As he covered her with his chiseled body and his tongue searched her mouth assiduously, she almost lost her mind. Amanda had never been so happy and in love, and she enjoyed each and every moment of the next 118 minutes of her life. ~~~~~ SATURDAY APRIL 13, 1912 With the crack of dawn, Amanda awoke refreshed, excited, and hopeful. My wedding day!! She slipped out of bed and padded across the carpeting to her adjoining stateroom door, and heard Methos groan in his sleep and roll over. His arm hit her pillow, and she hoped he wouldn't awake again. She wouldn't be able to pull herself away from that man and she had a lot to do before their date with Captain Smith at one o'clock at the Parisian Café. Now even more so, as her servant and Matron of Honor, Lillian, was gone. Her eyes gazed at Herbert's closed door and sorrow filled Amanda again about the fragility of life. Lillian had been so vigorous in almost everything she had done, even though she was up in years. As Amanda crept back into her stateroom and shut and locked the door, hatred for Elaine and James Wentworth filled her entire being. They had the Mona Lisa back, but Elaine still murdered Lillian. It may have been accidental, and Lillian's own heart may have given out at any time, but Amanda chose to place blame square on the shoulders of that can-can dancing little bitch. To think I tried to help her! She had me hook, line and sinker, that's for sure. Amanda shook her head and paced her room wondering which of the many things on her to do list she should begin. A matron of honor... maid of honor... she had to have someone stand beside her at the altar. She saw Lillian's pill case on the bureau and started to tear up. She hadn't known Lillian all that long in the grand scheme of things, but the old woman's death hit her hard. She replaced it on the bureau, and solemnly promised, "They will pay, Lil. They will both pay." Amanda put her mind on the wedding, as grief was too hard an emotion to carry that day, although she knew Lillian's spirit would be a part of the ceremony. She tried to think of anyone on board that she could ask at the last minute to be her witness, and then decided that she didn't need anyone next to her. All she needed was Methos. He would have Herbert, and that was more than enough. She had hired a pianist; whoever would take the job could sign the certificate. For a moment, Amanda wished that Rebecca had been able to take the voyage with them. It would have been wonderful to have her present at the most important moment of Amanda's life, when Methos would look into her eyes while holding her hands, slip the band on her finger, and say those two powerful little words, "I do." The clock on the fireplace brought her out of her passive reverie when it chimed seven. She had scheduled a massage at 7:30 and her hair and makeup at nine. Then she would have a bite to eat at ten and check on the set up of the Parisian Café. Then Lillian would have dressed and pampered her until the time that Methos would make an honest woman of her. Finally! She got past another bout of grief over Lillian to snicker at the thought of Methos making anyone honest, in particular her. She quickly dressed then checked herself in the mirror. Her hair was long and still waved from being pinned up yesterday. She snatched a brush from the bureau to run it through her hair, then realized that was Lillian's. It still had the old woman's gray hairs in the bristles. "I cannot think about it," Amanda stated firmly as she put the brush back, got on her shoes, and rushed out the door to make her massage appointment. She stood in the hallway and locked the door. Just after putting the key in her pocketbook, she felt a sharp whack on the back of her head, and her world went black. Continued in Part Six