Disclaimer: Methos and all Immortals are Davis/Panzer's.  Robin, Claire, and all the mortals are mine.  If you want to borrow them, you have but to ask.

Note: Yeah, I wrote a Methos Love Story, as if the world really needed another.  Ahead is lots of romance and a little sex (non-explicit on account of I stink at writing love scenes).  It's okay, though; they're married when they Do It.  Hope you enjoy.  If you do, feedback is much appreciated.

New Beginnings

©, HonorH

Matthew Adamson, doctoral student, walked across the college campus.  He taught two Ancient History courses alongside his doctoral work, but in spite of the erudite subject matter, the courses were really quite popular.  His students enjoyed the way he made history come to life almost as much as they enjoyed his caustic wit -- even when it was aimed at them, as it often was.  At the moment, one of those students was hailing him.

"Dr. Adamson," called Delia Cullen, running toward him across campus.  The lanky, young-looking man looked up at her.  "Dr. Adamson, about this project . . ."

"It's not 'Doctor' anything yet, Delia," he reminded her in his velvety Welsh accent.  "Call me Matthew."

"Sorry . . . Matthew," she corrected herself, blushing lightly.  "I guess I'm not quite used to this college stuff yet.  Anyway, about this project, since I was already going to do Beowulf for my Lit class . . ."

Her professor cut her off.  "Won't work.  You need to do something BC.  Try the Epic of Gilgamesh if you're wanting to cross over to another class."

Delia made a face.  "Did that in high school for AP Lit.  Hated it."

Adamson shrugged lightly.  "So do something else.  But remember, I'll need your project proposal no later than Wednesday."

The young woman sighed.  "Okay."

Methos watched her go, grinning.  Messing with young minds was so much fun.  He was going to like being Matthew Adamson.  Besides, teaching and studying was keeping him busy.  Kept his brain sharp.

What he didn't like was the walk to and from his car he inevitably ended up with.  Being the lowest form of life on the food chain here, he always ended up parked somewhere in the boon docks.  Today he was so far out that he was practically in the parking lot of the hospital that adjoined the campus.

As he approached his car, he suddenly felt something -- a faint, whispery buzz in his mind.  He froze.  Who was nearby?

He thought he heard a cat, but it suddenly dawned on him that that was incorrect.  The ancient followed the buzz in his head and the light sound . . .

. . . and discovered, laying in the shade of a nearby Bronco, a baby bearing the faint mental signature of a pre-Immortal.  It was wrapped in a sky-blue cardigan.

Methos knelt next to the newborn and gently lifted it.  The sun sparkled on the child's barely-there hair.

"What have we here?" murmured the ancient.

***

Robin Wecks was having one of those days.  She'd awakened that morning to find that her dryer was suffering another of its fits and the wash she'd put in it the night before was cold and clammy.  After persuading it to stay on long enough to dry her underwear, she'd opened the paper to find a picture of her only high school boyfriend getting married . . . to Jenna Carlisle, the cheerleader and social leader who had always felt it was a kindness to remind Robin that she could have had more dates if only she'd lose weight.  As if Robin needed yet another reminder that she was a twenty-seven year old, five-foot-four, size fourteen (sixteen in blue jeans) virgin.  Then a traffic accident had made her late for work.  Upon arrival at the hospital, her supervisor had informed her that a performance review was coming up.  Thus warned that the day was going to be lousy, Robin gritted her teeth and prepared to ride out the storm.

Fortunately, her two favorite coworkers, Talya Davidman and Jayne Butler, were on duty with her in the neonatal ward.  They were complete opposites -- Talya was tall, willowy, Jewish, and highly practical, while Jayne was short, black, Baptist, decidedly plump, and had a ribald sense of humor -- yet they were best friends, and spent equal time mothering and matchmaking for their younger coworker.  Talya greeted Robin as she came on duty.

"We got a new arrival yesterday afternoon," she announced.

"Really?" Robin inquired.  "Mrs. Kearns go into labor early?"

Talya shook her head a bit sadly.  "No, in this case, it's mother unknown.  The baby was found abandoned in the university parking lot."

Robin sighed in disgust.  "Can you believe some people?  At least my mother found a couple to adopt me, and she was only fourteen.  How's the baby?"

"Surprisingly healthy.  She probably hadn't been there for very long when a doctoral student found her and brought her in.  Good-looking guy, by the way."  Talya's eyes twinkled.  Robin rolled her eyes and went to see the new arrival.

The baby was beautiful.  She had a little bit of soft yellow fuzz on the crown of her head, and her eyes, when she opened them, were an indeterminate shade of green or hazel.  Robin offered her a finger, which the baby gripped hard.  Acting on impulse, the young nurse reached down and picked her up.  "Hey, little one," she cooed gently.

A soft, warm voice intruded on her thoughts.  She glanced over to the desk where Jayne was sitting and talking to the newcomer with the beautiful voice.  He was tall -- really tall, at least six foot -- and had dark hair.  Robin moved closer.

"I'm Matthew Adamson," he was saying.  "I found the baby, and was just wondering how she was doing."  His voice had a definite accent.  British, Robin realized.

"Good to meet you!" Jayne exclaimed with her usual enthusiasm, jumping up and giving his hand a good, hard shake.  "The little angel's fine.  She was a little dehydrated at first, but seems to be recovering nicely.  Robin, baby, why don't you bring her over."

Robin felt a little shy as she approached the man.  His features might not have been magazine-model perfection, but they were fine and clean-cut, features Robin could imagine on a Roman Emperor.  And his eyes were absolutely beautiful.

Jayne felt compelled to introduce them.  "Robin, this is Matthew Adamson, the young man who found the baby.  This is Robin Wecks."  Here, Jayne leaned conspiratorially closer to the newcomer.  "She's not just young and cute, she's an excellent nurse."

Robin groaned inwardly, but shifted the baby's weight so she could offer a hand to Matthew Adamson.  "Hi," was the best comment she could come up with.  Matthew took her hand and his mouth quirked as if to tell her he understood exactly what Jayne was doing.

"Pleased to meet you," he said in that rich voice.  Robin was melting.

"Would you like to hold the baby?" she heard herself asking.

The doctoral student seemed a little chagrined.  "I'm not sure . . ."

"Oh, go ahead," Jayne interjected.  "She won't break.  Now, just use one hand to support her head . . ."

Robin suddenly found herself uncomfortably close to this attractive man as Jayne maneuvered the baby into his arms.  The younger nurse was surprised at how easily he seemed to catch on to how to hold her.  Methos, meanwhile, was thinking about how many of these tiny creatures he'd helped to bring into the world during his various stints as a doctor.

The child's gaze locked onto his face.  He found himself thinking about the lives she might lead, how that little hand would eventually hold a sword . . .

When he looked up, the older nurse had disappeared and he was left with the pleasingly plump, brown-eyed blond.  She was watching his face.

"What are you seeing?"  The question, in Robin's soft, pleasant alto, startled him in its directness and its insight.

"Myself," he heard his own voice say in reply.  Robin looked at him questioningly, and he realized he had to explain something.  He opted for a half-truth.  "I was abandoned as a baby, too."  The ancient suddenly felt a need to get away from those guileless brown eyes, and moved close to shift the baby back into Robin's arms.

"Is there a men's room nearby?" he asked in as normal a tone as possible.  She was lovely, he realized.

Robin shook herself.  "Uh, yeah, down the hall to your left.  If you hit Radiology, you've gone too far."

Methos nodded, then turned and left.  Robin went to return the baby to her isolette.  Talya and Jayne were nearby, grinning.  "I swear you two will be the death of me someday," Robin scolded.

Talya looked incredibly innocent.  "What did we do?"

"Look, just because he's male and tall doesn't mean I'll be interested."  Robin busied herself straightening the baby's blanket.

"Yeah," agreed Jayne quickly.  "So what if he's got pretty eyes and a gorgeous voice?"

"Or if he takes time out of his day to visit a baby he rescued?" chimed in Talya.

"Even if," bit out Robin, "even if I'm interested, what makes you think he would be?"

"There was chemistry there, babe," declared Jayne.  "Don't you think so, Tal?"

"Definite chemistry," nodded Talya.

"Come on," Robin moaned.

"You could do worse," pointed out the Jewish woman.  "He's cultured, educated, has a great nose . . ."

"Not to mention he's a great lover," interjected Jayne.

Robin gave her the hairy eyeball.  "And just how would you know?"

"It's in the handshake, baby."  Jayne was gearing up for a lecture.  "Limp fish handshake -- no stamina, no nothing.  Crusher grip -- thinks he's a great lover, but he's not.  Strong but gentle, though -- that's the right mix.  This guy had a great handshake.  Just like Mr. Butler."  She shimmied her hips.

"I can't believe I'm listening to this," muttered Robin.  She started making her way to the door, grabbing a clipboard along the way.  "I'm going to make rounds and try to forget what you two are saying behind my back."  Talya was trying, unsuccessfully, to stifle a giggle.  Robin pushed the door open, calling back over her shoulder, "I mean, really, just because I'm the world's oldest virgin . . ."  She bumped into someone.

Robin looked up to meet Matthew Adamson's eyes, an amused half-grin touching his mouth.  "How's that again?" he queried.

The young nurse closed her eyes, humiliation complete.  I should never have gotten out of bed this morning, she told herself.

***

At his home that evening, Methos laid on his couch in a position Duncan MacLeod had once dubbed "The Methosian Sprawl."  He was thinking about the pre-Immortal baby.  Strange, he thought.  He couldn't even remember his pre-Immortal life.  Who had he been?  Who were his parents?  Had he had any siblings?  A dog?

As he thought about the baby, an image of the young nurse came to mind.  There was something about her he couldn't quite pinpoint.  He liked her.  In fact, he could only think of a few cases in his life in which he'd so immediately and completely liked a person.  One of those people had been Duncan MacLeod.  Another had been Alexa.  He found himself wanting to visit her again.

Why not? he thought.  She was attractive enough.  And a virgin.  He chuckled a little.  After today, she probably wasn't eager to see him again.  But then, that had never stopped him before.

***

At her home that evening, Robin lay as if melted on the couch.  Over and over in her mind she replayed bumping into Matthew Adamson while yelling over her shoulder that she was the world's oldest virgin.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" she reprimanded herself, bouncing her head against the armrest for emphasis.  Why did she always have to embarrass herself in front of men?  Especially good-looking ones she might well be interested in.  Her only comfort was that she'd never see him again.

And a shallow comfort that was.

***

At work the next few days, Robin kept glancing over her shoulder, expecting (and maybe even hoping) to see Matthew Adamson, and having no idea what to do if she did.  In the meantime, she took special care of the infant.  The young nurse rationalized it by telling herself that little Claire, as she'd taken to calling her, didn't have a mother and father to cuddle her, and everyone knew that babies who weren't held didn't thrive.

Thursday, Robin and Talya were updating some charts and chatting when the intriguing Mr. Adamson knocked on the door.  The younger nurse silently thanked God that she'd never been much of a blusher.

"How's the baby today?" he asked in that wonderful voice of his.  The baby in question chose that moment to start squalling.  Robin, thankful for the excuse to leave, made her way over to pick the infant up.

Talya grinned.  "Hungry, by the sound of it," she answered, moving over to a large cooler.  She removed a small white bag and began warming it in an obliging microwave.

"Baby formula?" inquired Methos.  Talya snorted

"Please.  What century are you from?"  Methos wisely decided to let that one pass.

"This--" Talya indicated the mysterious package in the microwave "--is banked human breast milk."

Methos wasn't sure what he thought of that.  "Sort of a twenty-first century wet nurse," he commented.  Talya smiled approvingly as Robin brought the baby over.  The older nurse poured the warmed milk into a bottle and passed it to her friend, who began feeding the baby.  Then Talya made herself disappear.

Robin took note of this and spent a few moments cussing to herself.  Somehow, though, she couldn't stay upset or mad at anyone with a baby in her arms.  Especially not this one.  She smiled softly into the little face.

"What are you seeing?"  Matthew's question, echoing her own from the last time they met, came as a bit of a surprise.  Robin looked up at him and saw no mockery in his face.  She answered as honestly as she could.

"Myself."  She shrugged, then went on.  "My birth mother was only fourteen.  She gave me up for adoption.  I-I'm just glad she didn't abandon me the way someone did Claire."  The young nurse blinked back tears.

"Claire?"

Robin smiled guiltily.  "That's what I've been calling the baby.  Claire was my mom's name.  My adoptive mother's name, that is.  She died two years ago of Hodgkin's Disease."

Methos nodded.  "That's strange.  I've been thinking of her as Alexa."

Robin considered this, cocking her head.  "Alexa.  That's pretty.  How did you come up with that name?"

The beautiful hazel eyes looked away for a moment, then met Robin's brown ones again.  "Alexa was someone I loved who died far too young."

The nurse nodded, absorbing this.  Of course, Alexa could be a sister.  Or a friend.  Or . . . or maybe Robin could stop kidding herself.  She felt an irrational surge of jealousy.

"Well then!" she exclaimed a bit too brightly.  "I guess she'll be Claire Alexa for the duration of her stay here."  The baby squeaked and squirmed.

"How long will that be?" asked Methos.

Robin shrugged, belying the sudden pain in her heart at mention of the child leaving her care.  "Who knows?  The social workers here handle that, and they're understaffed and overworked.  In the meantime, she's charming the whole nursing staff."  And, Robin noted, stealing a glance at Matthew Adamson, certain doctoral students as well.

***

Methos ran.

It was his form of meditation, running.  Duncan MacLeod had his katas and forms, but Methos preferred running.  He could easily have qualified for a marathon, but he never had cared for competition.  Instead, he just ran, allowing his mind to drift.  Of course, wearing sweat shorts and a gray tee didn't allow for carrying a sword.  Therefore, he kept a gun tucked into his (slightly modified) waistband.  Any Immortal who challenged him would find a bullet through his or her heart.

He found his mind settling on Robin and baby Claire Alexa.  He knew he should stay out of the pre-Immortal's life, but somehow, he couldn't stay away.  Maybe it was Robin.  The nurse definitely appealed to him.  How, he couldn't say.  He couldn't decide whether he wanted her as a friend or a lover, but he did want her.

Fortunately, she seemed to have gotten over the embarrassment of their first meeting.  There was a concert on campus this weekend.  Maybe . . .

He gave a mental shrug.  The worst she could do was say no.

***

When he arrived at the maternity ward, he ran almost immediately into Jayne Butler, who took great delight in escorting him to the nursery.  Inside, Robin sat in a rocking chair feeding Claire and singing softly.  The two made for a lovely sight.  It took Methos a moment to pick out the song -- "What a Wonderful World."

As he approached, Robin looked up and gave him an excited smile.

"I'm taking her home," the nurse told him.

Methos' eyebrows leaped up.  "You are?"

Robin looked back at the baby.  "Yes.  One of the social workers is a friend of mine, and she vouched for me when I said I was interested in fostering Claire.  I think it was actually a relief to them when I volunteered, they're so backed up."  She chuckled.

Methos knelt by the rocking chair, gently touched Claire's blond fuzz.  His eyes fixed on Robin's face.

"Robin," he began, "would you be interested in going to a concert with me this weekend?"

Robin stared at him for ten whole seconds before she could reply.  "Ah, I, uhh," she stammered, then cleared her throat.  "Um, I don't know.  Who's playing?"

"A jazz/big band group called The Ellingtons.  I've heard them before, and they're quite good."  His eyes never left her face.

"I didn't see you as being a jazz person," she hedged, purposely changing the subject.

He caught on, but decided to play the game.  "Oh, my tastes are very eclectic.  Except I never could stand opera."

"Too bad," she commented.  "Some of my favorite memories are of going to the opera.  See, my dad didn't like going to operas, but my mom did.  So whenever she wanted to go, she'd take me as her date.  I must've seen a dozen between seventh grade and graduation."  Am I babbling?  I'm babbling, she thought.

Methos nodded, then segued back to the subject at hand.  "Maybe you'll change my mind about opera.  In the meantime, will you go to a jazz concert with me?  And perhaps dinner?"

Robin forced herself to meet his eyes.  "You really want to go out with me?" she queried, sounding plaintive to her own ears.  "Why?"

Methos met her eyes steadily.  "Because you have disrupted your life for a child you just met, and because you strike me as a thoroughly decent human being, and furthermore you have honey blond hair and sweet brown eyes, and I would very much like to know you better."

It took Robin another ten seconds to recover from this enough to answer him.  "Okay," she squeaked.

She gave him her address and phone number, and he said he'd pick her up on Friday at five-thirty to give them enough time for dinner before the concert.

After he left, Jayne walked over.  "I expect full details on Saturday, girl."

***

Friday night arrived, and Robin spent over an hour fussing about her wardrobe alone.  Her hair, fortunately, was well behaved.  Its color and texture were something she'd always taken pride in.  Matthew had told her to go casual, and she knew he would be, but she couldn't decide what to wear.  She finally settled on a new pair of khaki slacks and a coral silk shirt.  To this she added a coral pendant in the shape of a butterfly and matching earrings.  She'd just put on her watch when the doorbell sounded.

It was Amber, the baby-sitter she'd hired.  The teen had come well recommended, but Robin still felt nervous about leaving Claire.  She was still giving Amber instructions when Matthew made his appearance.

He looked great.  He was wearing blue jeans and a charcoal gray sweater under his black duster, and he gave her his most charming smile.  Strangely enough, he looked nervous. About me? Robin wondered.  He looked in on Claire, and then they left.  Matthew offered her his hand.  She took it.  Strong, but gentle.

***

"Dinner was lovely, the concert was great, Matthew was charming, we talked about almost everything from the Roman Empire to modern day America, and he kissed me on the cheek when we said goodnight."  Robin breezed past her older friends into the locker room.

Talya looked at Jayne, shoulders sagging.  "Don't you just hate it when they deprive you of being able to interrogate them?"

Continued

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