YOU'RE IN MY HEART I WILL REMEMBER YOU Methuselah's Gift missing minutes By Susan and JoLayne   RATING: PG CHARACTERS: Methos, Amanda, Duncan MacLeod, Alexa Bond, Rebecca, Nathan Stern, Daniel Geiger, John Bowers SUMMARY: Takes place after You Can't Always Get What You Want, Methos and Amanda visit Rebecca's grave, which brings up memories of Alexa's last days and Methos' determination to save her. NOTE: All words you recognize that were used in this story were written by Michael O'Mahoney and Sash Rains. Bless them for giving fans this wonderful episode. Thank you so much, Dea, for your help. Much appreciated. ~~~~~ ON THE ROAD FRANCE Amanda watched Methos out of the corner of her eye as they sped along the narrow road. Since they'd stepped off the plane at Orly, he had only uttered a few words, mostly monosyllabic responses to her questions. She was relatively sure it wasn't exhaustion from their flight. They made the trip from the island in several legs: first to San Francisco, then New York, then London, with overnight stays in each city. She did suspect that it had more to do with the reason for their trip. This pilgrimage to Rebecca's grave would be their first together, and likely his first all together. Amanda found herself visiting the resting place of her former teacher whenever she needed to talk to Rebecca. It was comforting to rest her head against the cool stone of her white cross monument and pretend it was Rebecca's strong shoulder. She would spill the details of her latest heist, reminisce about long ago escapades with mutual friends, and reveal her secret dreams for the future. Deep in her heart, Amanda was certain Rebecca heard her and it comforted her. "Methos?" Amanda averted her eyes from the road to where the other immortal sat. "Are you sure you're all right?" Methos continued to watch the scenery pass by in a blur. "I'm fine, Amanda. I wish you would quit asking me. Although, I won't be fine if you don't quit asking me." "You've been so quiet since we got off the plane," Amanda countered. "You're never this quiet unless something's bothering you." "Jet lag." Methos gathered his coat around him and scrunched down in the seat.  "Yeah, right," Amanda muttered, but she got no response from him. She noticed his eyes were now shut, effectively putting a halt to the conversation. The silence of the car grated on her already tense nerves. Deciding that nagging at Methos would be an exercise in futility, she turned on the radio and began to sing along. With each song, she sang a little louder. Since her silk skirt slid easily on the leather seat, she danced wildly behind the wheel. She let out a whoop of joy when a Beatles song blared from the speakers. She glanced over at her traveling companion and giggled when she saw his arms had crept up to cover his head and ears. Apparently he didn't share her enthusiasm. That, however, did not dissuade her from her singing; it only made her sing louder. She began to clap and occasionally pat his leg, in an effort to shake him from the brood that had settled over him. "For the love of the gods, would you knock off that caterwauling?" Methos yelled over the now blaring radio. "And keep your attention on the road; I'm in no mood to push us out of a ditch." Amanda ignored his pointed jibe at her driving. Go into the ditch just once, and men never seem to forget it... "I thought you liked the Beatles." "I do," Methos replied as he sat up,  "when the Beatles are singing." "Come on, sing along," Amanda cajoled. "It'll make you feel better." "I feel fine, Amanda." "Also a great Beatles song." Methos was too silent, so Amanda added, "Fine is stretched thinly across your face, Methos." Methos glared at her, but she refused to back down under his regard. "Why must we always fight when it's totally unnecessary?" "Because that's what makes us interesting," Amanda smiled. "Besides, this is hardly what I'd classify as a fight. Now, the time you shoved me off that balcony in Barcelona because I made fun of your velvet knickers... that was a fight."  "Everyone wore velvet then," Methos argued. "I was just blending in." "Oh, come on, Methos, you can't tell me you secretly didn't enjoy that phase of fashion," Amanda teased, eyes twinkling at him. "And we both know you're the king of being comfortable." "They were quite comfortable." "You did look awfully attractive, I must admit." "Then why in the hell did you make such a fuss about it then?" "Because I'm easily amused." "Ha, ha," he replied slowly from her use of what was his line. "That's so much better." Amanda relaxed when she saw the smile on Methos' face. "We're almost there." "I can't imagine seeing it." "I know," Amanda frowned despite her attempts to keep things light. "The first time I went to visit her grave, all I could do was cry. It was so wrong. Damn Luther!" "If I'd taken care of the bastard years ago, like I should've, we wouldn't be doing this now," Methos ground out. "He certainly wasn't worth Rebecca's head." "Shoulda, coulda, woulda," Amanda broke in. "Since when did you start believing in ‘should have beens'? You've always done what was necessary. Remember-live, grow stronger, fight another day?" "Whatever, Amanda." "No, I'm serious." Amanda turned off the main road into the drive of the cemetery. "If you're guilty for letting Luther live, then so am I, two-fold. We both had ample opportunity to off him and we didn't, but that doesn't mean we're responsible for her death." "I never said we were." Methos straightened as she parked the rental car alongside other mourners'. "Really? You seem to be implying that your not killing Luther does," Amanda pointed out. "There is nothing we can do about it now. You know as well I do that she would have both of our heads for even discussing this." "She would, indeed." "Shall we?" Amanda reached across the seat for his hand. She smiled when she felt his fingers tighten around hers. After a quick peck on his cheek, and a squeeze of his hand, she got out of the car, and waited for him to do the same. They walked along the gravel pathway that lead to the resting places of souls, each marked with distinctive marble, granite or slate. Visiting a cemetery was always a solemn task-Rebecca's more than others-but with Methos along with her, Amanda felt a bit more at peace. It was as if things had come full circle. The events surrounding Rebecca's death had been such that Amanda couldn't in all good conscience let her true feelings known for the oldest immortal. She had been with the Highlander, Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod during those days, and damn it, quite happy. This trip presented the first opportunity to express what they felt about seeing her grave for the first time, together, holding hands, as one. Methos' hand squeezed hers as they turned down the narrower gravel path to her grave. She looked at his face, solemn, staring straight ahead, almost as if it were etched in stone. He had posed for statues before, quite famous ones, but for now, she would rather he reveal what he was thinking. Her insides churned; she was nervous about his reaction and what secrets might be brought into the open. Unfortunately, Methos was keeping it all to himself. As they slowly approached Rebecca's grave, Methos dropped her hand. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his dark brown trench coat, and the gentle wind hiked up his collar. Or maybe the collar turned up from the act of hunching his shoulders and sinking his neck down, as he was apt to do when he was trying to hide from something or someone. Amanda broke the silence. "Have you seen her grave before?"  He only slightly shook his head as he stared down at Rebecca's final resting place.  "Well, what do you think? It looks nice. John did well by her. It's elegant. Classic. Timeless. Just like her." They stood a bit longer, and Amanda waited for Methos' expression to change, or to speak. She finally nudged him with her shoulder. "Say something!" "It's not what I expected. Not at all. What made John decide what date of birth to use for her? ‘Rebecca Horne'. That's it? That's all there is to say about that magnetic, magnificent woman? She was Majidah, Xanthia, Rivka. That's who she was. ‘Rebecca Horne'?" He sneered. "It makes her sound like a housewife! I'm surprised Mr. Bowers didn't put ‘Rebecca Bowers, wife of John', on there instead!" It was as if Methos had grown a foot in all directions as he spouted those words. Amanda moved back from him, since it looked as if he would explode. From the looks they were getting from mourners down the path, Amanda thought Methos had had enough of old times and tried to get his attention to skedaddle. Methos roughly shoved her hands off. "What do you want?!" Speechless, Amanda stood gape-mouthed at Methos, and averted her eyes to the old man and woman standing in front of a monument just a few feet away from them. "So they can hear! So what? I'm grieving! This is a cemetery, it's allowed." He called to them, pounding his chest, "Aren't you supposed to be angry that good people die?" The old man nodded, which gave Methos encouragement. Methos pointed at Rebecca's grave and said to the couple, "This was one of the best friends I ever had. She showed me that there was still love and goodness in life... people!... when I needed to learn...." his voice was catching when the tears started to flow down his face. "I've known her for...  and now she's lying in that spot of earth. For what? For what Rebecca gave me...," Methos said, before looking back at Amanda. He grabbed Amanda's arm and pulled her closer, as if to show her to the couple. "For what Rebecca did for this one. This woman was a scruffy street rat when Rebecca took her in. Now look at her!" Amanda scowled at Methos and tried to smile and brush off what he was saying to the couple, but he pulled at her cashmere coat, and took hold of her silk blouse under the collar. Methos said, "Look at what Amanda is now. She actually bought these clothes." Amanda wasn't at all amused when he started laughing at the concept of her purchasing anything. "Amanda is a remarkable woman, only because of Rebecca!" Methos turned back to Rebecca's grave, as the old man grabbed his wife and hustled down the path. Their heads jerked to look back every couple of steps; for an old couple, they moved quite fast. Amanda straightened her clothes then rubbed her hands against Methos' back. She could hear audible gulps of sorrow come from him. "Sh, honey. It's all right. There's no telling how people react to things." "What are you talking about?" "That was a little overboard, wasn't it?" Methos slowly turned around and faced her. She brushed the tears from his cheeks, but he grabbed her hand and walked determinedly back to the car. He let go of the tight grip on her hand just before they reached the car. "This was one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made in my life. Gimme the keys." "What mistake?" "Gimme the damn keys!" She tossed them to him. He was in the car and had it started before she could figure out what the hell was going on. He used the power button on his door to lower the passenger window. "Don't expect me to open the door for you. Get in, or walk, it makes no difference to me. Those are your options." Amanda planted her hands on her hips and growled, "You get your bony ass out of that car right now and talk to me! In a decent manner! Or so help me God...!" Methos got out of the car and stalked to her. She tried to avoid whatever it was that he planned to do, he had been astonishingly unpredictable thus far, but he took her arm, opened the passenger side door and almost pushed her on the seat. He slammed the door shut. "There is going to be serious jewelry in the offing for that sorry display! Count on it!" she yelled when he got back into the car. Without reacting to her, Methos put the car in reverse and peeled out of the parking spot. Dust swirled behind them as he drove like a bat out of hell away from the cemetery. Methos flipped off the radio and they traveled in silence. They were miles outside of Paris before Amanda would even look at him. DAMN HIM! He could make her weak in the knees like no one in her life could, but he also could be the most frustrating, unpredictable cad she had ever met! "What mistake?" she demanded when she couldn't hold back anymore. Methos turned off the road into a little clearing in a copse of trees and stopped the car. After turning off the engine, he just sat there. Amanda was so miffed, she could have hit him. Instead, she got out of the car and paced the circular area, taking deep breaths to clear her head. She ended up sitting on a boulder and pulled her coat close around her to fend off the shakes. She didn't know if they came from the cool wind, Methos' reaction to seeing Rebecca's grave, or her reaction to his reaction. She tried to remember what all he said and what had made her so angry, but all she remembered was his bitter tone. That pissed her off. It wasn't at all appropriate. Before long, Methos got out of the car and joined her on the boulder. He tried to nudge her over to share it comfortably, but Amanda pushed him back, causing him to sprawl on the grass. "What the hell got into you? What are you so mad about?" "I didn't like seeing how Rebecca ended up." "So you had to blame me?" "When did I do that?" Methos' innocent reply still held a trace of anger. Amanda lifted her silk blouse, mimicking his earlier deed when he mortified her at the cemetery in front of perfect strangers. "‘Look at her now...'" Methos folded his legs under him, shook his head, and muttered, "Women..." "Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?" "You and Rebecca," Methos countered quickly. "An immortal of her caliber shouldn't have forfeited her head for a mere mortal, and you were ready to give your head to Luther because..." Methos sighed with rage, then demanded, "Exactly why did you want to give your head to Luther?" "I didn't go into it thinking I'd give my head! I..." Methos interrupted, "Didn't think, as usual!" Amanda's plan of a soul-enriching experience with Methos at Rebecca's grave had not only been shot to hell, but Methos had been starting arguments at every opportunity since they left New York. "Did we leave Bora Bora to come here and fight?" "Why did you insist we come here? I didn't want to leave the beach." "Once again, it's all my fault. Seems like freaking old times!" "It was your fault you almost lost your head to Luther! Why did you do that?" Amanda's breath caught when she explained as best she could, "Rebecca was my touchstone, Methos. I was nothing without her. I had to fight Luther." "Because she would have demanded it," Methos agreed sarcastically. Amanda quietly answered, "Yes." "No bloody way in hell would she have done that!" "Yes," Amanda argued. "She thought sacrifice for the greater good was more important than one more day of pina coladas and sex on the beach with you." "Thanks." "It's the truth." "She didn't..." "She gave her head to Luther save John's!" "Why she ever loved that bloody imbecile, I'll never comprehend!" "That's enough!" Amanda stood up and drew her sword in the same motion. The tip of her blade hovered near Methos' nose. "Don't you dare! Rebecca was better than you, me, even MacLeod! She was..." Amanda couldn't continue as her eyes had clouded over with tears. In one swift, elegant movement, Methos had gotten up, disarmed her of her sword, and pulled her into his embrace. He softly said, "It was a good thing Mac was there. Damn it all to hell, we lost Rebecca, Darius... I suppose MacLeod is next. Then where the bloody hell will we be?" Amanda pulled away in surprise. This was the first time that Methos had ever said something so openly complimentary about Duncan MacLeod in her presence, especially since she'd spilled her guts at Woodstock that she and MacLeod were an on again-off again item. "Stupid, honorable fools! Honor means absolutely nothing if your damn head comes away from your body." Methos fumed. "How many times have I tried to relate that to people? They never, ever listen! I don't know anything. It's not like I haven't lived longer than any of you. To hell with it!" Amanda couldn't hide her shock at Methos' anger. Normally, Methos dismissed his feelings with a joke, a snide remark, or a thinly disguised barb depending on the situation, but now he was in an all-out rage. Seeing him so worked up disturbed her, even though moments before she could have swung her sword at him. Losing her teacher had given Amanda moments of madness and flew by the seat of her pants in a lot of situations. "Methos, it'll be all right," she said instinctively trying to make him feel better. "Do not patronize me, Amanda! I know what I'm talking about," Methos stalked off yelling over his shoulder,  "I may be old, but by the gods, I am not senile." Amanda ran to catch up with him. "I never said you were, Methos. Look. Fine. You're mad-" "Damn straight I'm mad!" He avoided her outstretched arms. "I'm bloody well pissed off!" "Who are you mad at?" Getting answers out of him was like trying to break into Fort Knox. Methos might be stubborn, but she remembered that Rebecca had told her often enough she was nearly as stubborn as the oldest immortal. "I'm a big girl; I can handle it. Tell me!" "Really? I don't think you can." "You might be surprised at what I can handle." Amanda's stubbornness kicked in full force. Methos was issuing a challenge and she refused to be bullied. "If you recall, I handled the situation quite well after the Watchers kidnapped you." Methos opened his mouth, but he clamped it shut. "Tell me, Methos." "Do you want a list?" Methos growled.  Amanda hmpffed, "Well, since you asked so politely, yes, I do." She strengthened her resolve not to back down, even if she did feel like crying. "Tell me." "NO!" "YES!" Amanda's loud response matched his. "If you can't tell me, who can you tell, Methos? I thought we were supposed to be able to share this sort of thing. I thought you loved me." "Fine! I am mad at me, you, Rebecca, Luther, John-" "That's it? My, who'd thought you hold a grudge?" Amanda hoped her words would bring some levity to the situation. "Come on, Methos, don't block me out. I love you." She held out her arms once again, and he stepped into her embrace this time instead of backing away. Her arms loosely encircled his waist and she waited to see if he would bolt away. "Tell me." "Why did she do it?" Methos rested his head against hers. "She could've taken Luther." "Luther threatened John," Amanda explained. "She wanted him to live." "Well, frankly, I think she made a poor choice," Methos said bitterly. "He should've ran when she told him to; he had his chance, but he screwed up and now she's dead." "How do you know so much about what happened?" "I was a Watcher, Amanda. I keep track of those things." He added with a toss of his head, "I also read the final entry in her Chronicle." "She did what she thought was best," Amanda retorted. "John was heartbroken after she died." "As well he should've been! He had ample opportunity to get away, but he didn't. Rebecca lost her head over a mortal. She gave up her life for him; she always let her heart get in the way." "Whoa!"  "What? It's the truth and you know it," Methos remarked.  He didn't bother to grab Amanda when she slapped his face. "How dare you?" Amanda's chest heaved. "You have no right to say that." "Don't I?" The anger of just moments ago flared again. His hazel eyes turned hard. "I have every right, Amanda. I knew her for millennia before you did. She let mortals and her students in when she shouldn't have." Amanda's own anger surfaced. "Oh, that's so, is it? It wasn't so very long ago, you were willing to offer up your own head, and mine, for a certain mere mortal, or have you forgotten about Alexa?" The instant the words left her mouth Amanda regretted ever saying them. The blaze of anger in Methos' eyes fled and age old masks slammed in place. Without a word to her, he turned on his heel and stalked back to the car, his dark trench coat fanning out in the wind. Amanda grimaced; she knew she'd gone too far. Blurting out things without thinking about them first remained one of her worst traits. Bringing Alexa into this had never been her intent. The frail mortal had broken Methos out of the shell of complacency he'd been living in for decades and made him care about the world outside his carefully ordered existence. Alexa had been like sunshine on his frozen emotions. Amanda knew that the loss of Alexa was still fresh on his soul, years after her passing. She heard the car door slam and ran to the car in the event Methos decided to take off without her. Her high heels made running difficult at best, and she bit back a yelp when she felt her ankle twist. She quickened her pace in spite of the pain. After what she'd said she knew that Methos driving off without her was a very real possibility. She grabbed her side as approached the car; lazing around the beach drinking rum punch with Methos these last few weeks hadn't been conducive to real exercise. Instead of hearing the car start up, she was surprised to find Methos hunched over the steering wheel. "Methos?" Amanda opened the passenger side door. "Methos?"  "I don't have anything to say to you, Amanda." Amanda slid into the seat and her hand automatically patted his shoulder. "I owe you an apology." Methos flinched from her touch. "You owe me nothing." "You're wrong-" Methos sat up and wiped at his eyes. "Well, according to most people I usually am." "Knock it off, Methos. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that about Alexa, you know that. You just make me so mad sometimes." Methos jerked back as if he was hit with a blinding memory. ~~~~~ 1996 "You make me so mad sometimes, Adam!" Alexa's laughing voice drifted through in the soft Athenian breeze. The vivid blue sky held a smattering of white billowy clouds which formed a frame around her smiling face. Her long, tousled hair blew softly as she stood at the edge of the cliff and laughed at him with a bit of irritation. Methos smiled devilishly as he walked up the incline to grab her around the waist. She giggled with a mixture of fear and exhilaration as she peered over the drop-off before Methos carried her in his arms back to their picnic. She had lost so much weight since the last time he held her, and she had been thin when he first laid eyes on her. Alexa said, "Don't take another one out of my mouth again." "I have learned my lesson," he soothed as he straightened her skirt as she sat up and folded her legs under her. "I will not take from you again, even in jest." He settled himself next to her on the blanket and popped a grape in her mouth. Alexa chuckled. "Why do I find that very hard to believe?" She put her arm under his hiked-up body as he laid on his side on the length of the blanket. She nestled herself into the cove formed by his chest and the blanket. "But I do need to keep my humor. You'll provide that, won't you?" Methos looked down on her and his throat tightened. They had been having so much fun, a carefree picnic in the midst of perfect weather on a beautiful island, and she had to bring up her impending death. He preferred to forget that nugget of information at times like this. Alexa's reed thin arms wrapped tightly around him. He tried not to put too much weight on her, but he needed to hold her. The birds sang from the trees, the flowers bounced lightly in the breeze, children's laughter rang out in the distance, Rolling Stones blared from a radio. Methos soaked it all in and hoped that Alexa was enjoying it. He had wanted Alexa to enjoy everything she saw, touched, and tasted. The months they had spent together had been days of the most joy and most heartbreak Methos had ever remembered feeling. When Alexa smiled, so did he. When she was in pain, Methos experienced something he thought could be considered ‘sympathy pangs' like he had heard expectant fathers had. Tragically, Alexa's pain wasn't from bringing a life into the world. Alexa's pain was of a life slowly leaving it. How Methos wished he had met Alexa earlier. How he wished he had known her as a little girl and watch her grow up into the luminous beauty she became. How he wished.... Suddenly Alexa pulled away. He asked, "Did I hurt you?" "Of course not." Alexa laughed breezily. "How could you possibly do that?" She sat up and pointed at two boys tugging at each end of a Frisbee behind him. "We should stop that. The brat." Methos saw a taller boy slowly sink to his butt as he kept hold of his end of the Frisbee. The shorter boy, who appeared to be about three years younger than the other, kept a tight, determined hold of the other end. "I don't speak the language," Alexa said. "Help out, will you?" "Sure," Methos tossed out as he noticed how focused Alexa was on the boys. Methos had never thought of himself as an arbitrator, but he thought about what his intercession would do to that gnawing feeling of unfairness at the world if he got the Frisbee away from the big bully. It would be nice if someone, something, anyone, anything would free Alexa, and himself, from the fragile condition she was in. Methos walked to the boys with authority and yelled at them to stop. Neither boy looked at him, much less heeded his order. He took hold of the Frisbee and yanked it out of both of their hands. "You should be ashamed of yourself," Methos scoffed at the older boy in Greek, who jumped to his feet to argue. "Enough!" Methos yelled, and held the Frisbee out to the smaller of the two boys. "Here." The small boy whooped, his eyes wide, and snatched it from Methos' hand. As he ran away, Alexa called, "Adam! No! The Frisbee belongs to the other one." The little bugger was the thief after all! Methos saw the irritated face of the boy still standing by him out the corner of his eye, felt Alexa near them, then took off after the little thief. The boy had gotten a head start on him, but there was no way his little legs could outrun Methos' long-legged gait. Methos ran as if his ass was on fire. Alexa had brought him into this, and he would move heaven and earth to make sure that one damn thing could be straightened out. He couldn't fend off death for Alexa, but he could return that tall wimp his damn Frisbee if it was the last thing he did. The short boy slowed, but soon took off again when he saw Methos on his tail. The boy darted around people sunning themselves or playing games in various areas of the park. Methos kept his focus on the boy and sensed where he was going to turn next. He trapped the boy between a couple just setting out their picnic blanket before he reached a copse of trees. Methos hiked the boy up after wrapping his arm around his waist from behind. The boy kicked and yelled, his arms flailing about. One kick very nearly connected with Methos' groin, but the boy's aim was off. Methos dropped the boy, but grabbed hold of the Frisbee, ripping it out of the grungy little brat's tight fist. The boy began to cry. "Own up to what you did, don't fuss about it." Methos pulled the boy to his feet by his ear. "Be a man!" He walked the boy by his ear back to where the other boy, Alexa, and a very irritated man stood. The man shouted in Greek, "Let go of my son! How dare you!" Methos kept hold of the twerp's ear and handed the Frisbee back to the taller boy. He smiled thanks, and started to laugh at the sobbing boy being held by his ear. "Your son stole that Frisbee from him," Alexa protested, but the man didn't understand her. Even if he had, his anger was focused on Methos. Methos relayed what she had said in Greek to the man, and added, "She witnessed it. Is this how you raise your son? He is clearly a thief and you are worried that I may be causing him a spot of pain?" Methos squeezed the boy's ear harder and the boy wailed. Methos had been on pins and needles so long from Alexa's condition that he felt like punching someone. Maybe if the boy's father didn't back down, they'd have a go. Before he could release his pent up aggressions on the other man, the father had wrestled his brat from Methos and stalked away. Alexa smiled at Methos and kissed him. "Thank you, Adam." As Methos breathed in Alexa's scent, his anger slowly calmed. Her slender frame should rightfully be vibrant and curvy, but death was taking a slow hold of her. He held Alexa and felt like crying as he tilted his head against hers. A lock of her hair floated up to his face from the wind and he opened his mouth a bit to taste it. He wanted to taste, feel, and love every inch of her. ~~~~~ Later that night in the hotel room, Alexa had predictably fallen asleep before the sun set. Methos stood on the balcony staring out over the wide expanse of sea. There had to be a way to save her. He could see Alexa slow a bit more, shrink a fraction of an inch, each day. Every new day snubbed out a bit more of her life light. Before too long, she would be gone if he didn't do something. He knew full well that she was still alive, breathing, in the bed just feet from him, but he tried to imagine what his life would be like if she was no longer in it. All he felt was emptiness, as if life would never again be worth living. The sting of a tear blurred his vision. He didn't brush it away. It stung his eye, then his cheek, but he needed to feel pain. More tears came, but he didn't allow himself relief from the wet, salty, irritation in his eyes. He didn't even blink. He needed to feel as bad as Alexa. She was going to be taken from him if he did not do something, fast. There had to be something. He couldn't fathom living without her. "It's not fair!!"   A dog barked a reply in the distance as his cry of desperation pierced the dark night. Methos' fist pounded into the iron railing of the balcony, but the resulting pain did nothing to alleviate the anger he felt mushrooming in his chest. A solution had to be found; he would not lose Alexa to this hideous disease. He had lived too long to let this happen without a fight. He was Methos, ultimate planner and strategist. He would pay any amount of money, travel to whatever remote location, take on anyone to save Alexa, he vowed to himself as he bit his lip against another outburst. The sound of her murmuring his name in her sleep chased his dark thoughts away. With stealth honed over the years, he crept back into the bedroom and eased onto the bed. A mixture of love and sorrow flooded over him as he felt her arms pull him closer to her. This felt so right, so good. "Go to sleep, Adam," she admonished him groggily. Methos kissed the top of her head as her words trailed back into sleep. "Yes, my love." Instead of doing as she demanded, Methos lay wide-awake in her embrace until the early hours of the morning. He pushed aside the nagging certainty of losing her and concentrated on any shred of hope he had of something or someone who might help him stop the rapid deterioration of the woman beside him. Over and over, he searched through his memories, but nothing leapt out to him. His eyes grew heavier as sleep seduced him into its embrace. A yawn came out of nowhere, and he turned onto his side as he cradled Alexa to him. The first rays of sunshine made themselves known as the new day dawned. Methos blinked as the light reflected off the crystal water decanter that sat on Alexa's bedside table. From out of nowhere he heard Rebecca's laughter and he remembered the gifts she passed on to her students. The stories couldn't be true, could they? After all, in his 5,000 years, he'd seen stranger things than that. He had to find out, he had to know. Feeling more optimistic than he had since they started their trip, Methos breathed a sigh of relief. Things might turn out right in the end after all. Maybe this was the answer he'd been looking for all along. ~~~~~ PRESENT DAY "I thought the crystals were the answer," Methos whispered. He hadn't moved from his spot at the wheel of the rental car. "She would be here now, if only I'd been able to get them." "There you go again with the ‘if only's'," Amanda reminded him. "You did everything you could to save her, Methos. It's not your fault." "I tell myself that, Amanda; sometimes I even believe it." Methos leaned back against the seat as all of his years weighed heavily on his chest. Amanda's hand caressed his cheek. "Let's go back to the hotel, darling. A nice, warm meal and a soft bed will do wonders for both of us." "She's been dead for years," Methos said, "I didn't expect just remembering her would still be this hard." Amanda told him, "You know as well as I do, Alexa had no regrets with her life. She loved you, Methos." "I know," Methos said matter-of-factly. "Alexa would've loved Rebecca. They were very similar, those two." "They both knew how to keep you in line," Amanda grinned. "Alexa was doomed to die, but Rebecca," Methos lamented, "Rebecca had forever stretched out in front of her." "Giving up her life for someone she loved was exactly the way I knew Rebecca would die. It's so like her." Methos nodded. "Doesn't mean I have to like it or agree with it." "Point taken," Amanda responded. ~~~~~ LATER THAT NIGHT The lights of the city twinkled brightly against the dark Parisian sky. Cars motored along the narrow streets, slowing down for the occasional pedestrian out for a late night walk. Barges crept along the Seine passing under the numerous bridges that spanned the river. Methos rested his forehead against the chilly windowpane and watched life march by. Life in the city hadn't changed much in this century. Paris had a life all its own and it never really slept. "A lot like me tonight," Methos muttered to the empty room.  He sank wearily onto the sofa and rested his head against its overstuffed back. He let the soothing presence of Amanda's buzz settle over him like a blanket. Amanda lay curled up in a tight ball on their massive bed sleeping the sleep of the innocent. How he wished he was asleep beside her, but his ghosts were having no part of that. Seeing Rebecca's grave and remembering Alexa's demise roused the feelings of failure he thought he had buried in his psyche. Memories of the two very similar women he'd loved so much crowded his mind. Both, in their own ways, had taught him to love when he desperately needed to experience that emotion. Rebecca, after the time when it seemed like he'd lost his humanity, and Alexa, when he felt so jaded about the human condition. Strong women, one immortal and the other dying, guided him back to the realm of the living 2,500 years apart. ~~~~~ 1996 Alexa's death seemed inevitable. In order to make her more comfortable, Methos had settled Alexa into the lakeside house he owned in Geneva, near the clinic that was in the middle of experimental cancer treatments. However, her condition had grown increasingly worse in the short time they'd been in Switzerland. Ever since the thought of Rebecca's crystals that she had disbursed to her favorite students came to mind, Methos couldn't get out of his head the thought that it could be true, that it could be the only thing to save Alexa. He wanted to go in search of the missing pieces so bad, but Methos stayed close to Alexa's side to give her strength to keep fending off death. Three nights into their stay, Methos woke up realizing something was wrong. Alexa's sleep was unnatural and nothing he did roused her. He gripped her hand fearfully in the back of the cramped ambulance as they rushed to the clinic. Alexa's prognosis suddenly become terrifyingly real. For five nights, he sat at her bedside watching her slip in and out of consciousness. Nurses and doctors they'd met during her outpatient treatments hovered over her. Vial after vial of blood was taken. Her heart rate and other bodily functions were measured and recorded. So clinical. Each result was met with the same grim look from the professionals, despite their wonderful bedside manner. All the while, Methos sat in his chair next to Alexa holding her hand and talking to her. Finally, he reached his limit. Tired of sitting idly by, Methos left the nursing staff his cell phone number in case of an emergency. He immediately boarded the first plane leaving for Paris, to do some research on the whereabouts of the other crystals that made up the legendary Methuselah Stone, because Methos knew that Luther had possessed all but one of the pieces. Amanda's piece. ~~~~~ 1996 WATCHER HEADQUARTERS FOR WESTERN EUROPE PARIS, FRANCE After parking his car down the way from the main gate of Headquarters in the dark of night, Methos crept to the one vulnerable spot in the security system that he had been able to find during his years of working in that building. Sure, as Adam Pierson, researcher for the Methos Chronicles, one of the fold, he could have just parked in the assigned lot and walked through the front doors of the International Asset Corporation, as Headquarters was named to those who didn't need to know. However, that meant explaining himself, something he preferred not to do. All watcher activity outside of working hours was usually met with paperwork, security passes, and all the things Methos hated. If he steered clear of video cameras in sensitive areas of the building, he would be fine. Methos entered the building by shinnying up a pipe that was next to the men's room on the third floor whose latch had been broken for about three years. After climbing inside, Methos stood at the door to the hall to hear if anyone was around. He opened the door, still listening, and looked both ways down the hall before scurrying down to the library. If he were to be seen in the library, he could truthfully say that he was doing research. Only his research wouldn't be on Methos or his legend, but of the Methuselah Stone. Methos poured through multitudes of books that mentioned the stone even in passing, searching for any thought to the piece's current whereabouts. He pared out the tomes that would do the most good to sit down and read, and he had them all spread out on a large round table in the center of the room. It didn't seem long before light filtered into the room and people started entering, grabbing the book they needed, and leaving again. One woman came at seven am and had an official look about her. Must be the new librarian. Mary Marshall, who had been the librarian at Headquarters as long as Adam Pierson worked there, was a nice, persuadable woman that took well to his flirting with a blush and a smile. She must have retired since Adam had last been at work. This librarian had her hair in a bun so tight he wondered if it was a plaster cap instead of hair. She wasn't bothering him so Methos ignored her. One book was essential to his familiarization of the stone in its incomplete form. Methos had laid the book upon a reading easel and flipped through the pages of sketches. The Methuselah Stone. You almost had it, Luther. The thought of you becoming all-powerful scares the hell out of me even now. Luther was the one guy that the moniker ‘bad ass' fit like a glove. Methos took a deep breath and tried not to remember how Luther came into the fold of Rebecca, Amanda, and Methos for a short time so long ago. But is it really possible that the possession of all the pieces could make an ordinary human immortal? He had gone through every book the library had to offer, but knew that there were other secret rooms that held revered documents and chronicles. Researching was his specialty and he would find out all there was to know about the crystal. Once he had all the information, he'd steal the crystal, pay Amanda a visit for hers, and then he'd fly back to Geneva and Alexa. Methos asked the librarian that he knew always had one eye trained on him since she entered, "Is this all there is?" "Looking for something specific?" a new voice, a male voice, with authority, asked roughly. Methos peered up from the books before him and said, "Just doing some research." "Oh," the needle nosed man said stuffily. "For whom?" "For me." "And you are?" "Adam Pierson." "Research," the librarian told the intruder. "Ah, yes," he said. "You're supposed to be working on the Methos Chronicle." Methos said a bit snippily for being distracted, "And you are?" "Your boss. Nathan Stern," he said. He flipped one of the books closed and asked, "What do you want with Luther's file, hm?" "I was just doing some checking. I thought he might have crossed paths with Methos." Oh did he ever, more times than I'd like to remember... "He didn't." Methos smiled only on the inside, proud of himself that he was always able to outwit, outplay, and outsmart those that were assigned to immortals Methos came in contact with. Methos decided to get on Stern's good side if he was to needle any useful information from him. "As you used to be his Watcher, I guess you should know." "So you'll be finished with this." Stern picked Luther's Chronicle up from the table as Methos made a half-hearted grab for it. Oh well, I read and saw everything useful in it. "There is just one thing. The crystals Luther had, I thought we kept them." Methos mustered good self-control as he tried not to make it sound as if it was life and death, which it actually was. "They're in the Director's Gallery." The gods couldn't have dropped Nathan Stern into a more fittingly-named family even if they tried. This guy lived and breathed being exacting. Methos asked graciously, "Really? Can I see them?" "Of course. Follow me. It's this way." Methos thought that was mighty easy, but then again, why wouldn't it be? He was Adam Pierson, this was Adam's boss. Sometimes one didn't need to be covert, although Methos was always more comfortable that way. In the Director's Gallery, Stern marched to what caught Methos' eyes as soon as he entered the room. Methos wondrously walked toward the connected two crystals which looked just like the sketching in Luther's Chronicle. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Stern commented. "Almost complete. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if Luther had found them all." May the gods have had mercy on us all if he had. Methos didn't want to show Stern anything more than idle curiosity from this artifact and replied, "Nothing would happen, probably." Stern countered, "I've seen legends in the records going back before Luther, before Rebecca. Some say that the crystal will protect its wearer from death." You have read well, my good man. Continuing with his ruse, Methos said, "It's myth and superstition." "But possible, all the same." Methos looked to Stern to see that he was staring at the crystal parts himself. Stern continued, "Imagine what it would be like to find the last piece, to become like them - immortal." That's what I've been imagining.... Methos said slowly, "There's a thought." "If you will excuse me," Stern dismissed Methos. The sight of Stern's retreating back brought some measure of relaxation to Methos. "Take your time, Mr. Pierson." Methos kept his features carefully schooled as he continued to drink in the sight of the nearly complete stone. The tips of his fingers itched to pluck the crystals from their resting place, but now was not the time. He was so close to saving Alexa. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his coat and closed his eyes. This terrible ordeal would soon be over and he and Alexa would live happily ever after. Tonight, he'd have the crystals, and then Amanda would hand over hers. ~~~~~ 1996 LATER THAT NIGHT OUTSIDE WATCHER HEADQUARTERS Methos checked his watch for the umpteenth time since he'd begun casing the building. Like clockwork, the guards left the wing that housed the two crystals that compromised part of the Methuselah Stone every thirty minutes to police the rest of the building. It was more than enough time for him to get in and out with his target. If everything went according to plan, the Watchers wouldn't become aware the crystals were missing until he was tucked back safely in his loft. He wiped his hands against his pant legs. His nerves remained tightly stretched even though he was confident in his ability to carry out the simple plan. Total relaxation would be his only when the crystals were in Alexa's possession. Once that happened, Methos could breath easily for the first time since he'd fallen totally in love with her. Slinking quietly from bush to bush, he approached the building with equal amounts of caution and boldness. He paused for a moment at the corner of the building when a dog barked in the distance. Methos grinned at his own paranoia. Taking a deep breath, he climbed back up the pipe he had used earlier and made haste to the Director's Gallery one floor below. The darkened hallway nearly echoed in silence. Not a trace of another human could be detected as Methos continued on his journey. Elation sang through his veins as he let himself into the Director's Gallery through a back door whose lock was easy to pick. The crystals lay nestled in a red velvet cloth and twinkled in the two lights trained on it. The crystals beckoned him forward to success. This is almost too easy. Methos bit his lip as he reached down to retrieve them. How ironic! Luther got himself killed trying to obtain them and here I am just lifting them as easy as you please. How fickle Fate really is. As tenderly as if they were an infant, Methos began to wrap them in the cloth. Just as he turned to leave, he felt the undeniable presence of another immortal sweep over him. For a spilt second, he feared that Luther had returned from the grave to wreak some sort of twisted vengeance, but the moment a slim figure slipped into the room he let out a sigh of relief. "Amanda?" Methos squinted to make sure it was truly her. What in the hell is she doing here? "You bastard!" Amanda's unmistakable voice charged. "You can't trust anyone." Methos' eyes went wide when her sword flashed in the dim light. "I don't know what you're talking about." He was about to tell her to put her sword away when she advanced on him. Had Amanda lost her mind and no one told him? He did his best to look non-threatening; all he needed now was a psychotic Amanda. "You tried to have me killed, you son of a bitch!" Venom dripped viciously off each word. Amanda didn't lower her sword. Well, if she wanted to play games... then by all means who was he to stop her? He summoned all the frustration and anger he felt and turned his glare on her. "Don't be ridiculous. I just want these crystals," Methos growled. Back off, Amanda, I'm not teasing this time. "No, they're mine!" Methos jumped back in time to avoid her wild swing, but his grip on the stone loosened long enough for them to crash to the floor. He stepped back out of her reach and he grimaced when he heard an alarm begin to sound its shrill warning. Damn!! This wasn't working out how he'd planned. The noise from the alarm continued to blare and Amanda wasn't backing down. For a minute they stood staring at each other, then Amanda blurted out, "This isn't over." Methos almost called out to her, but she ran from the room. He thought about his own retreat. He paused to consider the crystals, but the sound of approaching feet prompted him to run for the secret door. His hand slammed into the latch as he cursed his bad fortune. ~~~~~ 1996 THE NEXT MORNING METHOS' LOFT  The sounds of people walking and talking on the bustling Parisian street below his apartment drifted up in the morning breeze, but Methos didn't notice it. Since he'd returned from his unsuccessful mission, he'd sat in his throne chair and brooded. So close, yet so far away. He pounded his fist onto the arm of the chair, which did nothing to make him feel better. Seeing Amanda had been a tremendous shock. Even more shocking was her anger at him. The last time they'd seen each other things had been fine, but last night Amanda seemed very intent on separating his head from his shoulders. As disconcerting as that was, he had more important things to worry about, namely getting the blasted crystals. The sound of the phone ringing jarred him back to reality. Methos felt his stomach revolt. None of his friends in Paris knew he was in town, except Amanda, and he doubted she was in the mood to ring him up for a chat now. He'd already talked to the clinic in Geneva three times since he arrived home in the early hours of the new day. Alexa's condition had persistently grown worse as the days passed. He feared the worst as he picked up the receiver. "Hullo?" "Adam," Duncan's deep voice greeted. Oh, gods, the boy scout. "MacLeod." "I need to talk to you," Duncan pressed on. "It's very important." "Sorry, MacLeod, but I'm in the middle of something important myself," Methos cut him off. He listened closer and heard Amanda yammering in the background. So the little minx had run to her Highlander for protection from him. Methos supposed he should be happy for her; she had someone she loved. MacLeod was healthy. MacLeod wasn't going to die of cancer. Life just isn't fair at all! "Please, Methos," Duncan let his true name slip. "You know I wouldn't ask unless I felt it necessary." Methos rubbed his hand over his eyes, suddenly feeling so very tired and old. "Where?" "Luxemburg Gardens in an hour." "Fine."  Methos hung up the phone without another word.  ~~~~~ LUXEMBURG GARDENS When Methos entered the Gardens, he spotted MacLeod sitting on a bench by himself. It was cold and misty prompting Methos to close his coat around him as he took one last look around to see if there were any eavesdroppers before going to find out just what was on the Highlander's mind. Duncan didn't spot Methos until he was almost to the bench and said right away, "You're late." "I'm here," Methos said. He looked the other way to make it seem as if they weren't actually together, as was their pattern. No need to make anyone notice them having a discussion. "What's so important?" "The crystal," Duncan stated without delay. Methos smiled. "News travels fast."  Of course his little woman rushed back to tell him about what happened at Headquarters last night. Once upon a time Amanda told Methos everything, but now it seemed, she was only confiding in the Highlander. Sure, Methos hadn't been too accessible for updates on her life, as he was totally involved with Alexa and each breath she took. Last night, Amanda had looked at Methos as if he was a stranger and had even drawn her sword on him. Duncan broke Methos' thoughts by saying, "Don't tell me you're buying that stuff about invincibility and magical powers." Before Alexa took that turn for the worse, Methos had been thinking the same thing. When the woman he loved was about to lose her fight, there wasn't anything Methos wouldn't do to help even her odds. "Do you know anything about the Methuselah Stone, MacLeod? There've been stories about its power since before I was born. Whoever has it lives forever." "Yeah, but our immortality doesn't," Duncan said forcefully. "You know that." Methos was past seeing the world as black and white, true and false, fairy tale and fact. There was always a chance... Methos calmly explained, "No, our immortality doesn't. You know anything of its history? It belonged to Methuselah. He lived to be over 900 years old." "Says who?" Always needing proof. A story. A reason. I thought I was one who had to be talked into everything... Surely MacLeod had read at least a part of the bible, why did he have to explain? "Before Methuselah died, he gave it to his grandson, Noah. Now Noah survived the great flood." A thought came to Methos... Sure, the Bible was a collection of stories, parables, not the actual truth. But there was one passage that Methos knew to be the absolute truth. If MacLeod ever found out about the truth of Revelations, he'd not only shit bricks, but probably would want my head. Focused only on the current situation, Duncan asked, "Why are you doing this? You've lived this long without it. Why do you need it now?" "Alexa. She's in hospital in Geneva. She doesn't have long." Duncan made a face of sadness for his friend and said passionately, "You knew it had to be this way." "Yeah, from the first moment I saw her," Methos quickly replied. "Is that supposed to make it easier? Is that supposed to make it okay? If there's even one chance that I can save her, then... I have to try." "Yeah, but how much is this stone worth to you?" "My life." Methos didn't hesitate a second with his answer. "And anybody else's?" Speechless for a moment, Methos let that remark flow over him. Then he remembered Amanda's voice in the background when MacLeod called him. Sure, she probably flew off the handle and concocted some web of half-truths and lies in order to make sense of things. "Amanda attacked me last night." "Yeah, somebody tried to take her head a few nights ago." "Well, it wasn't me," Methos replied defensively, which was his habit when friends spoke of attempted or actual murder. Duncan nodded. "Yeah, they were mortals, I know. She thinks that you sent them to get the last piece of the crystal." Methos had been carrying his emotions too close to the vest and his heart fell into his stomach when the Highlander's remark sank in. "I think I'd better go," he quickly said. It was better to say nothing than give away too much. How could the two of the them think he had anything to do with Amanda's break in? Are they both insane??? Duncan called after him, "Methos. Methos! Just tell me you didn't do it." As Methos walked determinedly away, he pondered the fact that MacLeod needed him to deny it. Who does he think I am? Methos was so angry he almost turned on his heel to go back and tell MacLeod that his current lover had been Methos' for a period of time over twice as long as he'd been alive. Did he get that from Amanda? What drug is she on? Methos pulled his coat closer around him as the chill of the air, and the mistrust of his friends, one of which he thought would never think the worst about him, had the thought that Methos would kill them. He walked away pondering just what the hell had happened while he was away with Alexa, but not really caring that much to stick around and find out. All the energy Methos possessed had to be focused on one task, getting the pieces of the blasted Stone and get it back to Alexa before she took her last breath. ~~~~~ After a bite to eat, more stalking of Headquarters to make sure that the routines were still in place, and phone calls to Geneva, Methos felt a little better. When the cover of night could be his disguise, he would try again at getting the crystals still under Watcher control. Even though Amanda seemed to be acting like a crackpot, he would only have to ask for the last piece and get back on the plane to Geneva and save his love. His cell phone rang as Methos was just outside Headquarters' gate. MacLeod. He had ‘arranged a meeting with Amanda'. When the hell did MacLeod start acting as our go-between? Methos told MacLeod to put Amanda on the phone, but he wouldn't. Something was definitely wrong, but Methos couldn't imagine how being attacked by mortals made Amanda leap to the unfathomable conclusion that Methos was behind it. At least she was willing to meet with him. As soon as they talked, Methos was sure it would all be straightened out. "The train yard. Fine. I'll be there at nine on the nose. She'd better not be late."  Methos almost added, ‘as she usually is', but caught himself. It was their agreement that MacLeod stayed in the dark about their past relationship, thinking that he wouldn't be so amorous with her in the present if he knew, and Methos really didn't care one way or the other. It was commonplace for Methos to keep secrets from friends, even had a few he'd never reveal to Amanda, come to think of it, so he kept mum. As Methos bided his time until nine, hoping the ‘meeting' wouldn't take long and he could be back at Headquarters by 10:30-the perfect window of opportunity to get back inside without being detected. He made another phone call to Geneva. Methos was pleased that Alexa was awake and wanted to listen to him. Anika put the phone to Alexa's ear; the insidious disease had robbed her of her strength. Even a minor task like holding the receiver was too much for her now. Speaking drained her completely on most days. Methos babbled like an idiot about his flight, the weather, and his hope to come back to her soon. He didn't know if it was just a bad connection, or the phone wasn't near her mouth, or her breath was so soft that he couldn't hear it over the phone, but he needed some confirmation that Alexa was listening. He told her, "Tap the phone if you love me." Three clicks sounded through the phone line and Methos leaned back against his car almost crying. He choked back his emotion in order to be coherent for her. "I love you, too. Alexa...," Methos said. There was so much he wanted to tell her. Most of all, he wanted to tell her that he would return with the last ditch effort to save her life. But he couldn't. He heard two clicks on the phone as if she was tapping her fingernail against the receiver. He laughed softly and said, "I love you so much, Lex." ~~~~~ TRAIN YARD Methos leaned against one of the boxcars and waited for Amanda. Hopefully, whatever had gotten stuck in her craw had been dislodged. Dealing with her mercurial moods grated on his already thin nerves. He glanced at his watch and noticed it was already ten after nine. Waiting around for her wasn't an option. He was about to walk off when the wash of her presence flooded over him. He stepped out of the shadows of the boxcar. The sight of Amanda brandishing her sword at him for the second time in less than twelve hours really had him confused. "What are you doing?" Amanda advanced on him, a determined look in her eyes. "I came to talk you and you set me up again!" "What?!"  Have I suddenly become her enemy and no one told me? "Even if you kill me, Methos, you're not gonna get my crystal." Finally, we're getting somewhere! Since she brought it up, they might as well discuss this. "Amanda, I need the crystal." "Not a chance!"  Methos knew she was serious, but he had to make her realize how badly he need that stone, how badly Alexa needed it. If she would calm down and let him explain, but no as usual Amanda was going off half-cocked. Now she was attacking him. Again! Trying his best to keep away from her wild swings, Methos climbed aboard a railroad car and held his sword up to parry her. He hoped she'd soon tire of this silliness and talk to him calmly and rationally. The determination that clouded her face assured him she was not backing down anytime soon. Once they were back on terra firma, she was still on his tail, sword in hand. To teach her a lesson to not play with sharp objects, Methos took a wicked swing at her. He was pleased by the whoosh that frightened her as much as the tip of his Ivanhoe almost garroting her. Maybe if she realized the seriousness of the situation, she'd knock off the avenging angel routine. This was getting old very fast. "Don't do this!" he warned as he climbed another railcar. "Shut up and fight!" she retorted as she followed him. Methos was beyond aggravated. Had they not been through hell and back with each other? Amanda seemed intent upon separating his head from his body. She actually thought he wanted to kill her, when her actions proved just the opposite. Amanda was fighting him with everything she had; she fought with a desperation he hadn't seen since she first turned. All these long years and they were back to the same insecurities of a student-teacher relationship. No trust. Sure, Amanda was 1,200 years old, but she still had a few lessons to learn. Releasing the tight reign he held over his bitterness and anger over Alexa's situation, he abandoned his defensive posture and launched an all out assault. After a series of brutal thrusts and cuts that Amanda barely riposted, he brought the Ivanhoe down in a powerful maneuver that sent Amanda's sword clattering on the hard ground. He grabbed her and elbowed her roughly causing her to sink to her hands and knees. In moments, he stood over her with his sword to her neck, both of them breathing heavily. "You fool!" he spat out. Amanda, proud and defiant even in the face of Death, charged, "At least I don't betray my friends. Who will it be? MacLeod? Huh? You're gonna kill him next? Just go ahead and kill me if she means so much to you." Amanda's words sank in and Methos let his anger take control. Every fleeting moment he and Alexa had spent together rushed past him, the lack of trust that existed between him and Amanda, the unfairness of the world around him, and his total inability do anything about it. For a split second, the intense desire to take Amanda's head raged inside him; it called to him like a siren's song. His breaths were heaving. He could just drop his blade over her neck and he would have some satisfaction! Then, a small voice inside of him reminded him of who knelt before him.  With a silent curse he sent his Ivanhoe sailing across the ground. He reached down and jerked her off the ground setting her roughly on her feet. No more Mr. Nice Guy. Amanda had made her bed and now it was time for her to lie in it. "You understand nothing," he hissed. "Three weeks ago, we were standing on a beach on Santorini watching the sun rise over the Mediterranean. Now she is lying in a hospital in Switzerland breathing through a tube." He stared her down. "You think it takes courage to do what we do? Face another Immortal with a sword knowing only one of you will live?" His spit out the next words, "You try being her! You trying living one year knowing that your time is running out, knowing that when it comes to the final fight, however much you train, whatever tricks you have-you still lose!" The tears threatened and his hand flew to his face. "That's the way it is for them. There's so little time for them to see anything or do anything." Methos watched Amanda's face waiting for her to say something, but she only stared at him in wide-eyed astonishment. His chest still heaved with emotion and exhaustion; if she didn't get it now, she never would. So be it. He'd wasted enough time here; he needed to get back to Watcher Headquarters and get the crystals. He could only hope Amanda would give him her crystal when they had both calmed down. "Methos."  He heard Amanda call after him as he retrieved his sword from the ground. She was still using his true name in public, something that always pissed him off to no end. "What?!" He turned around to face her, his sword at the ready. Still want to play your little game, Amanda. I think the man you fight this time won't be the one you expect. "I'm sorry," Amanda whispered. She approached him with her sword clutched harmlessly against her chest, her brown eyes filling with tears. "Sorry. I'm sorry." Amanda reached for him and he went willingly into her arms. As her arms closed around him, the floodgates opened and Methos sobbed against her shoulder. Crying in front of Alexa was something he wouldn't allow himself; he needed to present a brave front for her to keep her strong. Standing in the deserted train station with Amanda, he could finally drop the facade and let someone comfort him. The sound of his sobs echoed loudly through the train yard. Long minutes passed as they stood holding each other. He didn't protest when Amanda led him off through the long shadows in the train shed. Amanda kept her arm around him while they walked to her car. Once they were both in the car, Methos hunched down in his seat. Past the point of exhaustion, he rested his forehead against the cool glass of the passenger window. "Methos?" Amanda whispered. "What can I do to help?" He closed his eyes and hung his head. "Alexa is dying." Amanda sighed and suggested, "Let me take you to my place for a bit and we'll see if we can't figure something out." Continued in Part Two