THE YOU'RE IN MY HEART SERIES HELTER SKELTER Part Seven By Susan and JoLayne RATING: PG-15 CHARACTERS: Methos, Amanda, Duncan, Kate, Joe, Cassandra, various Watchers SUMMARY: A month after Won't Get Fooled Again, Geoffrey's watcher figures out that Methos is not a myth, and very much alive. Methos is kidnapped; his mind and body are studied. NOTE: Thanks MnD, you rock, girl! DISCLAIMER: The characters you've heard of are the property of Panzer/Davis and/or Greg Widen. We're deeply in their debt for creating this universe, characters and the concept of immortality. However, the muses are in overdrive so we're using them with no hope of profit, only to entertain Methos and Amanda fans. Part Six Beth had been using back channels to get into Watcher database without the powers that be finding out. She chuckled as she closed the laptop in a Comfort Inn just outside of Seacouver, because it was probably the same methods used by Joseph Dawson, a tried and true friend of murdering immortals. She hadn't downloaded anything she had found, that could be traced, but she did print a lot. She opened the top of the cardboard box she found in a dumpster outside an apartment complex in which to keep all information she had gleaned of Duncan MacLeod, Joe Dawson's assignment. She hadn't just combed the Watcher database, she had also used a detective friend to trace his land holdings, car license plates, social security numbers, bank accounts around the world, credit card purchases, everything, right down to the money withdrawal from an ATM in a ferry that ran between Seacouver and Whidbey Island. She had never heard of the place, but the money withdrawal was after the Annex was burned to the ground. Sure, Duncan could have been on his way to somewhere, but Beth was a thorough person at heart, and this lead, as well as all the others, had to be followed up. As she was sitting in her rented Ford Fiesta on the ferry, she was cold, but didn't want to use all her gas keeping the car running. She could have gone into the heated public area, but she wanted to go through her collected research while she had the chance. By the time she would catch up with Duncan MacLeod, she would know everything about him as every available moment had been spent reading all that she had printed out and kept in that cardboard box. ~~~~~ CABIN Methos sighed in his sleep, then slowly came back to life. He was cramped on one side of his body, the side that was underneath Amanda. He distinctly remembered falling asleep with his head on her shoulder, but now hers was upon his, her arm and leg over him, and his arm was lifeless. He tried to ball up his fist, but all his fingers did was twitch. The tingly sensation slowly started as the blood started to redistribute to his hand. He leaned over Amanda's head to scratch it with his other, and in the process woke her up. Amanda was surprised to see him over her, but she quickly got used to it. She stretched up to kiss him, and Methos laid heavily on top of her, enveloping her with his mouth, hand and legs. He suddenly remembered the last time he was on top of her in bed, and he was stabbing her with a dagger. He jerked up and stared painfully down at her as he shook his arm to bring it back to life. "Was that me?" "I certainly hope so," Amanda delightfully said, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulling him back down to continue what had been started. Methos laid back flat on the bed and moaned. He covered his face with his hands, and took deep breaths. Amanda leaned over him and asked, "What's the matter? What are you seeing?" He pushed her hands away when she tried to see his face. "What are you thinking? Talk to me." "I KILLED YOU! That was ME! I DID IT!" "I revived," she simply said. "I could have taken your head and you wouldn't have minded?" Methos was spitting angry, pushing her away from him. "I would have been so pissed I'd haunt you until you're dying day, you jack ass!" Amanda said, standing at the side of the bed, straightening her ski sweater. "Is that what you wanted to hear? I HATE what you did, but I'm looking past it." She started to pace angrily as Methos watched her perched with his legs under him on the bed. "I have to look past it. You have to take things out on me so you won't hurt yourself or anyone else. I love you, I'm willing to do that. Okay? Is that all right?" Methos had been slapping his hand against his jeans but then looked up at her without lifting his head, making him take on a sinister aura. She didn't like it at all. "Would you snap out of it? There are things to do, people to see, oceans to cross, we have so much to do together. Don't worry, luv, I'm keeping track and you're going to pay me back for that. The jewelry counter at Tiffany's would do just fine. For a start. You know, there are times, seldom at that, but there are times when I really don't like you." "Me either," Methos replied, then laughed. His laugh grew harder and louder.  Amanda stopped her pacing to plant her hands on her hips and ask, "What the hell is do damn funny? Are you laughing at me?" "I'm laughing with you, darling." "I'm not laughing. You really can be a jerk sometimes." Amanda stalked past the bed to the door, but Methos jumped forward and grabbed her hand. He flipped her onto the bed and laid on top of her. "Settle down. You do have short temper." He pushed her hair back from her face and kissed her softly, then closed his eyes as he laid his head on hers. "I could have killed you, Amanda. For good. Don't do that. Don't put yourself in the role of a sacrificial lamb for anyone, not even me." "How do you do it?" she asked faintly, her hands protectively on her chest under Methos' weight. "Why do you go from manic to normal in the blink of an eye. What's going on in there?" She lightly touched his forehead after she got one arm free. "I was laughing because I seem to make people say those words to me at one time or another. Joe told me that not too awfully long ago. I can try his patience, too." "Does that make you feel better?" "I can't help it if people can't handle the truth." "You have to utter every thought you have?" "If I believe it appropriate." Methos smoothed her hair on the pillow and brushed her cheek with his finger. "You remind me so much of her." "Who?" Amanda was lost in his thought process again. "The most important woman who has ever graced my life. She saved my life." Amanda could only think of the woman in the other room that had so much history with Methos. Could he be in love with her? They both have dark hair, were about the same height, but that was about it. Methos could have been lost in some nether region of his mind again and talking nonsense, so Amanda kept silent. "She was the first one to save my life. Vashti, was her name." Suddenly, Methos collapsed, his head falling to the pillow next to hers. "I watched her die. It was the worse thing I ever lived through. For years, I had blocked her out. I loved her too much." "Vashti?" Amanda asked, confused. "Who are you talking about?" "My teacher," Methos' words came as a whisper of a long buried, almost forgotten memory. "You said you didn't remember your teacher." "I lied." Amanda smacked him on the arm, without malice, but more in the way of, here we go again. "Her death was too much to bear," Methos told her, lightening his burden. "She had sent me on my way after I took my first head, which I can't remember, to make my life as an immortal armed with all the tools and skills she had imparted on me. I ran into her again after I had traveled for years without a plan or a thought as to what my life would mean or entail. She had a former student after her. She had taught me so well that I didn't know at that time that the world didn't end if one were to interfere in a fight, if you're crafty about it. When I was that young, naive, green, stupid! All I did was watch that bitch take her head." Methos cleared his mind so he wouldn't envision that awful day, he didn't want to deal with it now. He had other fish to fry. He looked down at Amanda again and smiled. "You remind me of her." "We look alike?" "Not really. She had blond hair." "We act the same?" "No. She had a lousy sense of humor, serious so much of the time. She would have cut off her own hand before she would steal anything." "So," Amanda said, kind of annoyed. "Why do I remind you of her?" "Because you're as important to me as she was. Still is. You'll always be important to me, Amanda. Always." "Well, I'm not going anywhere. You won't have to just remember me. I'm here. Flesh and blood. I'm right here." Her hand reached out and caressed his cheek. "Whatever you need." "What I need is to get my memories buried again?" Methos closed his eyes and relished her hands on him. "What I need is to get the hell out of here?" Amanda's thumb glided along his bottom lip. "Maybe Cassandra can help you do that." "And men in hell want ice water," Methos kissed her finger. "I'd rather not talk about her just now." "You don't want to talk?" Amanda let her fingers trail down from his lips and lightly dragged them across his throat. He sucked in his breath. Amanda smiled. Methos had a very sensitive neck. "I can think of other things to do besides talk." Her hands roamed down to his chest feeling his heart beat beneath her hand even through two layers of clothing. "I'm thinking you have too many clothes on." "I was cold, Amanda." "Are you cold now?" she purred as her hands slid up his shirt and ran over his smooth skin. "I could be persuaded to warm you up." Methos counted to ten. He was having a hard enough time, no pun intended, keeping his thoughts together without the added distraction of Amanda's wiles. However his body had other things in mind. He rolled over on his back and stared at the ceiling. He wanted to make love to Amanda of that he was certain, but he was afraid to let himself do that. Whenever he made love to the woman beside him it was powerful and emotional and he didn't want to abandon his tenuous hold on sanity and do something they'd both regret. "Stop it, Amanda," Methos words came through ragged breath. "We can't do this, not now." Amanda rose up on her elbow. "I want to, Methos. I've missed you." "Don't you think I want to also?" Methos told her. "I want nothing more than to make love to you, Amanda. Don't doubt that." He turned back on his side to face her. "What I don't want is to make love to you and become someone I was before, or even someone I haven't been yet." Amanda started to protest, but he stopped her. "Ask Cassandra what that's like." Amanda couldn't hide the hurt she was feeling. Methos never refused her charms before. "Are you deliberately trying to hurt me?" "NO!" he said a little louder than he intended. "That's just the opposite of what I'm trying to do!" "If that's the way you want it," Amanda whispered as she started to get up. "This is not the way I want it, damn it!" he pulled her beside him. "I want this to be a bad dream and I want to wake up on the beach with a nice rum in one hand and you in the other." "That sounds wonderful," she sighed. "We take so much for granted, don't we?" "Too much," he threaded his fingers through hers. Amanda kissed him and buried her face in his neck. They lay there a tangle of arms and legs. Kisses and caresses were exchanged trying to replace the intimacy they once shared. Methos yawned and Amanda giggled. "Still tired?" she asked. Methos' back arched as he luxuriated in a full body stretch. "Yes, I am as a matter of fact. I was trying to take a nap and some cheeky broad had other ideas in mind." Amanda poked him the ribs. "I'm not cheeky." He grinned at her and she melted at the sight. "I'll let you sleep then. Do you want me to wake you for dinner?" "It doesn't matter," he fluffed his pillow and flopped on his stomach. "Save me something if I don't wake up." Covers were pulled up to his chin. "You don't have to leave, though." "I can't lay in bed all day like some bums I know," she teased.  "Really? I can remember spending several consecutive days in the sack with you, luv." Amanda leaned over and kissed him soundly on the mouth. "We'll have to do that again soon. I'll be back later, I promise." The lump under the covers muttered something unintelligible and remained still. She carefully got out of bed as to not disturb him and walked to the door. To her surprise, Duncan was standing there, arms folded, eyes set in his accusing manner that was one of his faults. She jumped in reaction to him and closed the door. "Hi," she casually said and then started past him down the hall. He said, "What do you think you're doing?" "I was going to get a snack and maybe bring something to Methos." She looked at her watch as she said, "What time is it anyway?" Her eyes grew wide when she saw that it was 7:30 in the evening. "No wonder I'm starving, I'm sure Methos is also. What's for dinner?" Duncan held her hand, making her forward progress halt. He told her, "Amanda, I don't think it's a good idea right now to play with his mind like that." "Like what? What are you talking about?" "I know that look. If there's one thing his mind can't handle right now it's you." Amanda was stunned, not knowing at all what he was suggesting. "He needs me. None of the talking with Cassandra has helped at all. In fact, why don't you tell her to leave." "Cassandra isn't the problem, your acting as if there's nothing wrong with him is." "I'm what? Have you gone off the deep end along with him? If there's one thing I know for certain, there's something wrong with him, but staying away from him isn't the answer. Or do I hazard a guess that you're jealous?" Duncan tisked away the thought and forcefully said, "You aren't going to help anything if you put him in the position to give anything to you. This has to be about giving to him." "I was going to give it to him, MacLeod." "I know. You initiated everything that happened in there--," Duncan said, pointing at the door between them and Methos. Amanda interrupted him with guiltless anger, "You were spying on us? Did you get your kicks? Were you just going to see for yourself that we love each other because you can't get it through your head?" "I opened the door after you went in to make sure he wasn't going to kill you!" Amanda threw up her hands in defeat. "One minute you're worried about me taking advantage of him, and the next you think he's going to kill me. Make up your mind!" "I did! You're not listening to me!" The door to the bedroom opened and Methos was smiling at them both. "How can a man get any sleep with you two going at it out here?" He nonchalantly smelled the air and commented, "Is that steak grilling by chance? Smells good. If you two are finished, maybe you'd like to get something to eat too." "Believe me," Amanda spouted. "We're finished." She took Methos' hand and said, "Let's eat." "If you wouldn't mind, luv," Methos told her. "I'd like to chew the fat with MacLeod." "Why?" "Because I don't want to help prepare dinner and this will give me a chance to steer clear of the kitchen until it's on the table." Methos kissed her and told her with a smile. "Leave us alone for a minute." Amanda replied, "Well, I know when I'm not wanted." "You're wanted," Methos disagreed. "Just not at the moment." With one last look at Duncan, Amanda finally left. Methos motioned for Duncan to join him in the bedroom, flipping on the light switch and shutting the door behind the Highlander. Methos slipped into the lounge chair, and watched Duncan stand at the window. The silence was thick. "There was a time when we could talk about anything, MacLeod." "We still can," Duncan assured him. "How are you feeling?" "Physically, never better. Mentally," Methos paused. It wasn't his way to show a weakness to immortals, even a friend such as Duncan. "Mentally," he forged on. "I have a few things to work out." Duncan nodded, and sat on the end of the bed, staring at Methos, which made Methos a bit uncomfortable. "I'm not going to hurt anyone." "Not that you realize you're doing it." "The days of having to tie me up are past, Mac." Methos squinted at Duncan. Methos knew what he wanted to talk to him about, but maybe there were things the Highlander would like to say to him. They hadn't had any time to talk since the night before Duncan and Kate went off to get married. It was then that Methos was going to finally tell Duncan that he was in love with Amanda. All the years of watching them together made Methos squirm more and more each and every day. At first, seeing them together was 'cute'. Duncan was just another passing fancy. Amanda would grow tired of him again one day and she would come back to him. And he had other women during those years. It was after Alexa died that Methos needed Amanda again. Full time. Not just a one night stand. That wouldn't do anything for him, but he knew that if he asked her, she would have come to him. But he wouldn't have had her whole being. She was faithful to her current lovers, but Methos always knew that if he needed her, she was right there, in all forms. So, Methos had never brought it up to her. Duncan had confessed that while he was searching for and finding Connor, he'd found his long lost wife and rediscovered his love for her. After a lot of stalling, Duncan had told Methos that he was going to remarry Kate. Methos had the over powering urge to punch him, knowing that Amanda still loved him and was waiting patiently for him to return to Paris. They had talked on the phone after Connor was buried and Amanda couldn't wait to give Duncan the comfort she had figured he needed. Yeah, he needed it all right, but he had already gotten it from someone else. Just remembering that night, feeling so bad for Amanda, and being bemused that the upstanding Highlander not only kept such a secret all these years-who thought he had it in him?-but took the love of Methos' life for granted, Methos again felt ready to strike. Then he paused. The what? That fleeting thought about Amanda had just come to mind, and the concept seemed foreign. Suddenly, Duncan broke the silence with, "I know you went through a terrible time with them. If it's not too hard to talk about, what did they do?" "Do you want all the grisly details?" "No. Just the Cliff Notes would be fine." "The took me, they prodded me, they cut me, I killed one." "Which one did you kill?" "I would have killed them all, if I could have. Is that what you want to hear?" Duncan stood up again and walked to the window. Methos didn't like him turning his back to him and said, "You just want to know how I broke down, don't you? You like it when I make a mistake. Don't you?" "Of course not," Duncan said, facing him again. "Methos. We're friends. You don't have to put on an act with me." "Put on an act with you?" Methos stood up, starting to laugh. "Yes! You're very good at acting, even though you had claimed the opposite once." They stared each other down for what seemed like forever, until Methos shrugged his defeat. Duncan smiled and nodded as he said, "I didn't know you were such an experienced actor, although I should have known. I have to apologize, Methos, for one thing. I always underestimated your longevity. You're not just a guy as you claim. But, oh how you can cover yourself." "That's the problem, isn't it? That's why I asked you in here, without Amanda. She's why you haven't gotten near me since I arrived here. Bloody hell, MacLeod, even Cassandra came in here, you haven't, unless it's to play guard." "Why would I have a problem with Amanda?" "You didn't, as long as you were calling the shots. It was a kick in the ass to find out about us, wasn't it?" "Are you enjoying this?" Methos chuckled. "Yeah. I am." "Amanda and I," Duncan said quietly. "Amanda and you do not exist anymore. You saw to that." "Of course not, she's been with you all along." "No. Again, you get things wrong. Is that what you were thinking? Have you been thinking that Amanda and I have been going behind your back?" "Not sleeping together, no. But you have. You lied to me every day that you didn't tell me that you at least knew each other before. When I told Amanda about this new friend I have, I should have known. It should have been so clear. I told her about Adam Pierson. During the course of the conversation, she started referring to you as Methos, not Adam. I've been thinking about that ever since I found out about you both. I can't for the life of me remember if I used your real name first or she did." "You only saw what you wanted to see. We all do. Don't be hard on yourself." "She could have told me right there and then. She could have said, 'Oh sure. I know him. I've known him since before I turned!'" Methos stepped back at his outburst. "Would it really have mattered if we told you?" "Aye, it would have," Duncan replied turning to face his friend. "There should be no lies between friends." "I don't think so." Methos relaxed as he sprawled back into the chair. "This isn't simply about the fact that Amanda and I have been more than friends, is it?" Duncan glared at Methos but remained silent. "You can't stand it that she slept with me. I mean, after all, she may be a thief, but I'm a Horseman." "Don't bring those bastards into this, Methos." "Those bastards?" Methos questioned. "You forget I was one of those bastards, MacLeod." "No, I haven't forgotten," Duncan blurted out. "I can't forget." "And that's really you're problem, isn't it?" Methos asked softly. "Now we're finally at the heart of the matter." Duncan stood in front of Methos. "You are my friend, Methos. You know that." "Yes," Methos allowed, "but that doesn't change things." Duncan stalked back to the window putting distance between him and Methos. "Friendship given freely? At one time I'd say yes, but I've been the one maintaining our friendship, MacLeod." "That's not true," Duncan protested. "Oh really? When is the last time you came by to chat? Other than when you didn't need my help or advice?" Duncan didn't answer. "And do you think, honestly, I would have steered clear of Amanda if your friendship meant so little to me?" "That was very generous of you," Duncan's words dripped with sarcasm. "You're a self-serving bastard, you know that?" Methos' laugh was devoid of any humor. "Stick and stones, MacLeod." Duncan walked towards the door, but Methos put himself between the Highlander and the exit. "And people say I'm the one who runs from confrontation." "Knock it off, Methos," Duncan warned. "Let me pass." "Or what?" Methos didn't flinch at the threat in Duncan's words. "OR WHAT!?" Duncan tried once again to push past the other immortal. Methos anticipated this and once again blocked his departure. "Methos, I'm serious." "And you think I'm joking?"  "I'm going to ignore this," Duncan said. "Oh, how kind of you, oh wise and all forgiving Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod," Methos mocked. "It must be nice to be above the rest of us." "What the hell do you think I am, or what do you think I think of myself?" "I know exactly what and who you are and how you think of yourself. I know that it kills you that Amanda stayed true to you, while she had a history with me. You can't stand someone else having something over on you." "Just how much do you know about me, and where did you learn it?" Duncan leaned in angrily, so close that Methos flinched. "Ah! See?" "All I see is you," Methos said with humor that ticked Duncan off even more.  "What and when did she tell you about me? Adam was so inviting when I met you, offering me a beer, welcoming me in. You knew me all along!" "I'm confused, Highlander," Methos said slowly. "Are you jealous of Amanda and I, or are you just-" "I'm not jealous! I'm a married man!" "Yes. You dumped Amanda to marry her. Such chivalry. Well, I guess her finding out from Joe is better than receiving a FAX." "What does Amanda see in your sorry ass?" Duncan's level of frustration had rose with Methos' effort to block his departure. He regretted the words almost as soon as they rushed from his lips. Methos moved out of his way. "Apparently more you do, MacLeod." "Why you?!" Duncan yelled at the top of his lungs, "Of all the immortals in all the world, why you?" When Methos chuckled, and didn't take it personally at all, Duncan shook off the words he uttered without editing and said, "That's not what I meant." "Really?" Methos stepped away from Duncan. "I think you did. Now, if you're through insulting me, I'd appreciate it if you'd get out my face. You know where the door is." With his dismissal, Methos returned to the bed and stretched out on it and ignored Duncan's attempts to apologize. Finally Duncan hung his head and walked to the door. Before he left he glanced over at Methos. The old man's face was an emotionless mask never revealing what the ancient one was thinking. "I'm sorry, Methos, whether you believe it or not," Duncan apologized one last time. "I don't doubt that you are sorry," Methos finally spoke. "But you're only sorry that you spoke the words aloud." Duncan said no more and he left the man to his own company. Did Methos really feel like Duncan had abandoned their friendship? Had he? Duncan walked slowly to the kitchen. Worse yet did he really see the old man the way Methos said he did? Words said in anger often held more than a spark of truth and words of anger had been exchanged by both of them. Halfway to the kitchen, Duncan met Amanda carrying a plate of food towards the bedroom. "I bet he's hungry," Amanda said brightly. Duncan just nodded and continued walking. "Duncan. Duncan?" When she got his attention, finally, she asked, "Did something happen in there? Is Methos having flashbacks again?" "No, he's still himself." "Don't look so glum, Duncan. That's a good sign," Amanda was cheered. "He's staying lucid more and more I think." "Yeah." "You're hiding something from me," Amanda guessed. "Spill it." "Suffice it to say, we got some things out in the open." "And that's not a good thing?" "In this case? Probably not," Duncan admitted.  Methos appeared in the hallway and said, "MacLeod thinks I'm not good enough for you." "You're not," Amanda teased, "but I'll just make do." Methos walked to her and took the plate, and smelled the steak and potatoes. "What's this for?" "It's dinner. You're hungry, right?" "I thought you said I wouldn't be eating if I'm not at the table." Methos handed the plate to Duncan and took Amanda into his arms and kissed her, bending his body over to take full advantage of their witness. Amanda giggled with delightful surprise, but got into the kiss quickly, folding her arms around Methos' neck. Duncan's clearing of his throat made Methos stand, taking Amanda with him. "I take it that you'll eat at the table like a normal person?" Methos smirked. "As normal as I can be." After Duncan left them in the hallway, Amanda scrutinized Methos' smugness, and slapped him on the arm. "What are you trying to prove?" "That you love me." "If Mac wasn't standing there, would I have gotten that kiss?" "Yes," Methos honestly said, but then had to admit, "But without so much bravado." "I will have you know that I'm not a pawn in what you two call a friendship." "We're friends. We're the best of friends," Methos overstated, which made Amanda take a long breath of agitation. "What the hell were you two talking about?" Methos shrugged and muttered, "The weather," as he walked into the kitchen. Joe, Cassandra and Kate were half way through their meal when Methos entered. As was becoming normal, they all stopped talking to look at him. Methos looked himself over. "Did I forget to button something?" Joe smiled. "No, sit down. Join us." Methos sat in the nearest empty chair and picked up a fork and pulled the plate closer. After a mouthful of potatoes, he asked, "Who was the chef?" "Uh, I am," Kate offered unsure of what Methos' response would be.  Methos licked his lips, "Very tasty. Ah, that's why Duncan married you, you're such a good little wife." Duncan glowered at Methos. "What, MacLeod? I was giving her a compliment." Amanda claimed the empty chair next to Methos. "You two stop your manly posturing. Can't we just eat dinner in peace and quiet for a change?" "Here, here," Joe piped in. "Food digests better in silence, I think." "Sure, whatever," Methos agreed. He cut a piece of his steak and eyed it carefully before he popped the morsel in his mouth. "You know, I've often wondered why everyone says everything tastes like chicken?" Joe glared at the grinning immortal. "Eat, Methos!"  "Geez, just asking a question," Methos chewed his steak in silence and watched the others. They looked like they were about to jump out of their skins. "One time I actually ate water buffalo. Very tough." "What does it taste like?" Kate asked lightly, taking the bait. "Tastes much like chicken," Methos said. Amanda kicked him under the table. "Ow!" he mouthed at her. Amanda's lips turned up in a feral grin. "Eat, Methos." "I'm eating, what do you think I'm doing?" Methos began to get angry. Everyone seated around the table thought they had the authority to boss him around. First, they bitched that he was violent, then he was anti-social. Now he was just trying to make polite dinner conversation and they wanted him to shut up. No wonder he was confused, they kept changing the rules. "Methos, please pass me the butter and sour cream," Amanda asked as she cut open her baked potato. He passed her the desired toppings. "Thanks." "You're welcome," he toyed with his own spud. His fork tines mashed the white flesh of the tuber. Mashed potatoes! He liked mashed potatoes and as he recalled Amanda liked them too. "Quit playing with your food, Methos," Amanda chastised. "You're not a child." "Will you quit telling me what to do? I'm older than everyone at this table!" "That's shocking considering your behavior," Cassandra smiled smugly. Since they thought he was acting like a child he responded like a five year old and stuck out his tongue. "Bugger off, Cass." "After you," she retorted. "Methos, mind your manners, please just this once," Amanda scolded him. Without thinking Methos dipped his fingers in the now mushy potato and scooped up a nice handful and flung it in Amanda's direction. The warm goo landed with a wet plop on her check and dropped slowly to her lap. Everyone looked at her in surprise. Nonchalantly, she took her napkin and wiped the mess from her face. She took a sip of her iced tea and smiled. Methos went back to eating surprised that Amanda didn't react to his 'attack'. Amanda saw that Methos was once again absorbed in his food. She reached for her roll and split it open. She generously slathered butter on the bread. "Methos, would you like a roll?" she asked sweetly. Methos reached for the offered bread. "Thanks, Amanda. No hard feelings?" Amanda smiled evilly as her hand moved past his and squished the buttery surface right into his nose. "None whatsoever, darling." "Good one, luv," Methos swiped the greasy spread with the back of his hand. He leaned over and kissed her sloppily on the lips smearing the remaining butter on her as well. "I taught you well." "You should be glad I use my powers for good and not evil." Amanda kissed him back. Joe laughed at their antics. "She sure got you, Methos." "Yeah, she did," Methos leaned back over in his chair. "Pretty funny, I must admit, but..." Curious Joe asked, "But what?" "It's not as funny as this," Methos speared a forkful of heavily dressed salad and launched it at the startled watcher who didn't duck fast enough. The salad missed Joe's face and landed in his graying hair landing like the ivy laurels of Ancient Greece. "Now that was funny!" Joe smirked. "Your mother must be so proud of your table manners." "I'm sure we didn't have tables then." Methos laughed heartily at Joe's comment. "And I'm not sure I had a mother." Kate laughed despite herself. She raised her napkin to hide her smile when Duncan glared at her. "Don't encourage them, Kate." "Oh, lighten up, Mac," Kate giggled. "Its not like we can't clean it up." "You heard the lady," Methos jeered. He tossed a handful of peas at the sulking Scot. "Live a little." Joe and Amanda tossed globs of their potatoes at him splattering not only Duncan but also Cassandra and Kate in the process. Kate was game so she joined the fray. She directed a missile of creamed corn in Methos' direction and ducked when he launched a defensive strike. Duncan batted away a roll tossed at Kate. "See, Duncan, this is fun!" Kate said as she used him for cover from the food bombarding them. "You are all acting like children," he said as a cherry tomato smacked him in the face. Deciding it was better to join the fun rather than being the unwillingly target, Duncan half-heartedly launched some of his food at the enemy. The more he threw the better he felt; with each piece of food he threw he could feel some of the pent up tension dissipate. So he joined the game with gusto. Cassandra watched the craziness from her end of the table. Everyone was laughing and having a good time, even the previously surly Methos. Gone were the tension and angst of the last few days replaced by laughter and camaraderie if only for a little while. It was obvious to her that this group of people genuinely cared for each other and cared deeply for the man she'd found little use for. The Methos she knew would've killed anyone daring to throw food and he never would have joined in. She'd had to rethink some of her opinions during her stay here. Methos got a lap full of the pudding that was supposed to be their dessert and was sitting in a bowl on the counter. He looked up to see Kate giggling over him, she took handfuls from the bowl to throw across the room at Duncan. Methos jumped to his feet, his arms wide, knocking Kate to the floor. The glass bowl shattered and Methos stood repulsed by the thick brown on his shirt and pants. He grimaced as he quickly ripped off the top shirt. Then seeing that the pudding had slipped between both the shirts he was wearing when it was dumped, he promptly shed the white t-shirt too. He had his jeans unbuttoned by the time Amanda stood and stopped him. "Not the time for a peep show, honey," she said, as she held his hands. Duncan had moved around the table to help Kate up and steer clear of the glass shards. Too late, she had slipped on the pudding puddled on the floor and cut open the palm of her hand. When Methos threw Amanda back yelling, "Get off me!", she fell onto Duncan, who fell onto Kate, who cried out when she sat down hard on a shard. Amanda grabbed the counter for leverage to jump off Duncan and get to Methos after he moaned with his arms wide from his sides. "It's burning!" Amanda rubbed her hand against the tiny bit of pudding on his upper chest. "It's gone," she told him as she wiped the pudding off on her pants. "NO! It will never be gone! It's burning." Methos collapsed to the floor and wreathed in pain as if his pants were on fire. Cassandra looked on him as if he were insane. That was one thing she had never thought she would describe him as. He always seemed to be in control, until last evening when she had finally got up enough courage to spend time in the same room with him. Sick, twisted, animalistic. Those were words used to describe Methos, but not insane. She edged over to take a closer look at him on the floor, Amanda trying her best to calm him. Cassandra knew that Amanda hadn't a clue as to what he was talking about, but Cassandra did. Not long after being found after escaping the horseman camp, she was taken in by a sultan. Rumil had at first been quite caring and pleasant to her plight when his servants had found her 'close to death' in the desert. In actuality, Cassandra had just revived from one of countless deaths she had suffered without food or water in her haste to just get away from those bastards. She had been treated like a queen during her convalescence at their camp, but as soon as she was well, Cassandra found that she was only kept alive and brought back to health in order to be yet another of his slaves. Cassandra soon found she was out of her element. Not because she was with strangers and a slave, but because she was forced to do work that she had never done before. She had been trained as Hijad's assistant. A healer. A mystic. Not a cook. She had just been lead to where they wanted her for a while; she was just happy to be out of the horsemen's clutches. When more responsibility, and therefore expectations were added, Cassandra was still unqualified. She had made another stab at making lentil soup after nothing she had fixed for the fat man had been any good. She had served it and had to stand to his left as the taste tester took the all important sample. When he didn't keel over, but scowled, Rumil started his meal. Cassandra had peeled his grapes, had broken his bread, and they were satisfactory, but soon she was wearing the soup. It had been straight from the fire as Rumil was insistent that everything be served at its best. Cassandra had fallen to the ground, much like Methos just had. She had tried to get her toga off as soon as possible, and it hadn't helped, just as Methos was crying out. Cassandra moved without thought to Methos' side. At first, Amanda glared at her, wondering what she was going to do with Methos out of capacity. Cassandra assuredly touched Amanda's arm. With a gentle nod, she indicated that Amanda should make room for her. Amanda crawled back a knee's length away and Cassandra took Methos' hands. He fought her off, but she was able to keep a grip. She wasn't touching a man who had abused her for years, but a comrade in abuse and agony. A soul that was crying out for help. She leaned down close to Methos and whispered. He stopped his moaning, and laid back on the floor, taking great gulps of air like he couldn't get enough. Cassandra whispered again. She could vividly remember being picked off the ground by Rumil's brutes and brought immediately to 'the chamber'. That area of the camp was one that all the servants feared. Whenever a servant went wrong, there was no discussion. There was no trial. Only one judge. With the flip of Rumil's wrist, another servant would go up in flames. Cassandra cried as she whispered again to Methos. He shook his head and yelled out, "I can't hear you!" She whispered in the same level of voice as she had before, but this time, only when Methos was calm and focusing on her lips as she said, "You went into the fire." Methos gulped and then nodded with his eyes painfully closed. His head jerked the affirmative. She clutched his hands harder as she whispered, "The flames were all around you. You couldn't move. Were you tied up also?" Methos looked up at her with tears in his eyes. His face was read. His mouth moved along with her. She continued, "It was an odd feeling, wasn't it? After the intense heat, you were cold. Just before your lungs seared. You shivered, didn't you?" "How do you know? Did you do it?" "No," Cassandra calmly said. A light, assuring smile came to her lips as she said, "I know what you're feeling." She continued her trained voice when she said, "Tell me what you did to make this so." "I can't," Methos yelled out. "It won't end if I say!" "The only way it will all end if you say it. To say it does not make it so." Methos whimpered with the memory, and squeaked out, "I ruined her dress." "Whose dress?" Cassandra's voice was a constant force to urge him to speak. "I do not remember her name. She owned me." Methos' eyes grew wide and looked past Cassandra to the ceiling. "She owned everything about me. I do not remember her name." "What name she went by was not important. What she did, is. Accept it, Methos. State it. It will lose its power only when you do." "I stained her dress," Methos eagerly said, clearly wanting to get rid of the memory. "I tripped. I was did not mean it. She had to know I did not mean it. I tripped." "What did you spill on her?" "Wine. Red wine. She was not happy," Methos said lowly, almost as a growl. "She had guests. I should have been more careful. I was so stupid! A clod! I got burned for it!" He folded into a ball, but held onto Cassandra's hands. "Why would I be burned for spilling wine on her dress?" "Why would I be burned for not being able to cook? The world is filled with unreasonable people. It always has been." "It always will," Methos agreed, sadly. Cassandra was this close to making it about him, what he had done as a horseman, but thought better of it. That he was holding so tightly onto his hands didn't make her nauseous. For the first time, she saw him as a man. A peer. For herself, she had gotten what she had stayed at the cabin for. She found that part of her psyche that was able to forgive Methos for his deeds against her. She had wanted to for so long, but never had the catalyst to make it so. As she looked at him still trying to conquer the horror that was inflicted on him in the past as if it was happening at that moment, with Amanda brushing back his hair and wiping away his tears, Cassandra found her forgiveness. But this wasn't about her. She was here to serve a purpose with the rest of them. This was all about Methos. Joe sat heavily at the table as the lighthearted food fight had so suddenly turned very real. He hadn't had the heart to get up from his chair to see Methos' face after he crumpled to the floor, but he had heard every word that was said. He shook his head in disgust for the pain that people had to carry with them on a day to day basis. The same man who swilled beer in a corner booth listening to the music was the same man who had once been executed because of spilled wine. Joe suddenly remembered all the times that he and Methos had shared a bottle of red wine, and Methos hadn't made any indication that it held such significance. It was only then that Joe realized that there were events in Methos' past that even Methos didn't remember on a day to day basis. He looked up to see Duncan and Kate holding each other in the kitchen. He could see the dried blood on her hand, and on her pants. They stood silently, jut holding each other, probably thankful that they hadn't had to live through such a thing as Joe was. Or had they? No matter how often he heard an immortal tell him, "You just don't know what it's like, Joe," he never let it sink in. He didn't have a clue. Food was on every surface and on everyone. Joe lifted his hand and pulled some French dressing out of his hair and wiped his hand with a napkin. He had been at a loss for words several times since he first saw Methos in the Watchers' hands, but this was the most painful for him. Maybe it was just the buildup of all that he had seen, but he had a whole new respect for his friend. Methos could be an arrogant pain in the ass that was for sure, Joe now understood why. Amanda took Cassandra's place with Methos, tenderly urging him to realize that the trauma was in the past. He was in the here and now. She held Methos as he clung to her, his head buried in the crook of her neck. The others drifted away to give them privacy. The crackling of the fireplace in the living room was the sound to be heard. Amanda shifted her legs under Methos' slack body. "Methos? Are you alright?" She asked for what seemed like the hundredth time. Methos shook his head. "No, I am not." "The memories have quit coming so frequently," Amanda insisted. "You're getting better." "Maybe, maybe not," Methos untangled himself from her. "Until they cease altogether this madness won't stop." Amanda touched his cheek. "It seemed to help when Cassandra used her voice. Maybe she can use it to help you get them back where they should be. She might be the only way." Methos rolled his neck and rubbed his forehead to relieve the tightness that had settled there. "It seems I have no other choice. If she will help me, that is." "She said she would and Cassandra doesn't strike me like a woman who goes back on her word," Amanda said. "We need to get cleaned up first, though." Methos smiled as he plucked a glob from her hair. "You've always looked good in potatoes." His lightness darkened again with the load of exhaustion when he said, "This has to stop soon, Amanda." "Yes, I know." She let him help her to her feet. "Things have a way of working themselves out." "When did you get so optimistic?"  "Since I have no other choice," she looked at him. "You mean the world to me, Methos. You always have." Her words went straight to his heart. There was no trace of teasing or mocking in her words, only the truth. Instead of making him feeling trapped or burdened, the words brought him a measure of peace and contentment. Amanda was many things but it wasn't in her nature to lie about her emotions. Even if she could, the look in her eyes told him she was telling him the truth. Methos felt an overwhelming need to hold her. "Amanda, you have no idea what that means to me." "You are the best friend I have, Methos." "Its nice to know that, considering I haven't been my usual charming self lately," Methos told her half joking half serious. "Loyalty is one of your best traits." Amanda pouted. "That's not what you used to think was my best trait." Methos dipped down and kissed her thoroughly and held her closer. "You're such a brat, Amanda." He scratched his neck dislodging some chocolate pudding in the process. "Now how about we take a shower?" "But I thought you didn't want to make love until this was over," Amanda said, taking a glance at Duncan, who had to have heard it. "I was informed that this is about giving to you. It's been a really long time...," she said, wanting him more than life itself, "but I understand." "There are other ways to enjoy each other," Methos reminded her. "I need to feel you against me, Amanda. I need to feel human again." Especially if Cassandra couldn't help him get his memories stowed away. "If I feel me slipping away, I swear I'll get you out of harms way." "Lead the way," she told him. "Grab us some clothes, will you?" Methos asked as he walked into the bathroom. "I'll start the shower." Amanda and Duncan looked at each other. "It was his idea, Mac. I'm giving to him." Duncan couldn't help but crack a smile and then nodded. There wouldn't be any way to stop them if he did try anyway. Turning the water on as hot as he could bear it, Methos stepped under the spray of the shower. The pulsating wash of water loosened the dried splotches of food he was unable to brush off outside the shower. The shower door slid open and Amanda joined him. Methos moved over and let her have access to the water. "Damn!" she squealed. "That's hot!!" Methos leaned forward and turned the cold tap up a little. "I'll never understand why you take showers so blasted hot. It's a wonder your skin doesn't come off." "So, I like really hot showers, so sue me." Methos squeezed some shampoo onto Amanda's dark hair and began to massage the suds through her hair. "I'm glad you gave up on that dreadful blonde hair. I like it like this." "Most people liked it, I'll have you know," Amanda informed him. "But it was a bitch to keep up." "Well, whatever your reason, I'm glad its back to normal," Methos gently pushed her under the spray and helped the water rinse her hair. "Now scrub my back while I wash my hair, please." He handed her the soap and a rag. Amanda lathered up the rag and ran it over his muscular back. "Have I ever told you what a nice back you have?" her hands guided the rag along his rib cage swirling the suds in ever increasingly bigger circles. "Scoot over, so I can rinse." Methos stood under the spray and the water chased the soap from his head down his back and chest. "Your turn, Amanda dear." He took the washcloth from her and started washing her. "Remember the pond we used to swim in at Rebecca's?" Amanda smiled. "Of course, I do." His hands traveled from her back down her waist. He knelt and washed one of her long legs and then the other. Before he stood he kissed the back of her knees. "How could I forget that? We spent many hot summer days there." Amanda's resolve was beginning to crumble as his hands lathered her chest. "Please don't start something we can't finish." Methos smiled in wide-eyed innocence. "Sorry. You're just more tempting than I remembered." "We should go back and visit the pond one of these days." "I haven't been back to the abbey since Rebecca was killed," Methos somberly replied. "I miss her. I should have killed that bastard, Luther, when I had the chance," Methos clenched his hands. "Rebecca would still be alive." "Don't do that," Amanda allowed. "You always tell me that you can't worry about should haves. She knew what she was doing. John was the love of her life; she would've done the same thing for any other immortal, you know that." "I know." Methos turned off the water when it began to grow cold. "She was the kindest person I've ever known." Amanda tossed him a towel, "We'll go back together and say our goodbyes to her. Some of the best times of my life were spent there with you and her." "You've come along way since you were that dirty street urchin," Methos toweled her dry. "From a caterpillar to a beautiful butterfly." Amanda glowed under his praise. "It's been a long road from there to here, hasn't it?" Methos reached for another towel and wrapped it around her wet head like a turban. "Some days it seems longer than others." "All and all, it's been a grand adventure you have to admit," she rubbed a towel over his hair causing it to stand in unruly tufts. She didn't try to stifle the giggle that escaped her lips. "You look like a hedgehog." He liberated the towel and finished drying himself off. She ignored him while she pulled on her clothes. He slipped on the jeans she'd brought for him. He picked up one of the discarded towels and twisted the damp material and snapped her on the bottom. The pop startled her and she banged her knee against the bathroom vanity. Methos laughed as she danced one-legged around the room trying to ride out the pain. "I thought you were a better dancer than that," he teased narrowly avoiding the hairbrush she threw in his general direction. "Your aim is off, too. Nice to know I can still get to you." "Oh, really," Amanda purred.  The pain in her knee vanished. She picked up a bottle of mouthwash and let it fly. The plastic bottle landed with a thud on the top of Methos' bare foot sending him into his one legged dance. "OW!" he yelped. "You're not very nice." Amanda laughed. "I learned from the master." A knock on the door sounded. Joe's muffled voice came through the door. "Everything ok in there?" Methos hobbled to the door and grimaced as he opened the door to the watcher. "I think the she-devil broke my bleeding foot." "You don't look any worse for wear," Joe said. "In fact, you look pretty damn good, considering." It was hard to tell who looked the most surprised when Methos grabbed Joe in a bear hug. Methos rarely showed this kind of affection. Joe patted his friend on the back as he returned Methos' hug. It meant a lot to Joe. Methos patted the red splotch on the side of Joe's hair and then stared at it and his hand. Joe, not wanting his friend to revert back to some memory concerning blood, he said, "That's French dressing, Methos." Methos smiled as he looked at his hand. "I know. I put there. What I'm wondering... is why my aim was off. I threw it at your face." "Ah." Joe chuckled. "I may not walk fast, but I can move my head when I see lettuce launched at me." Continued in Part Eight