THE ELIZABETH SERIES
CHAPTER TWENTY - THREE
ANGEL
by JoLayne
EnyaJo@aol.com

RATING: ADULT
CHARACTERS: M, DM, A, OFC Angel, Claire, OC Cameron James,
Jason, Brett Maxwell
SUMMARY: Methos gets news that he needs to check out immediately.
DISCLAIMERS: Still apply from Chapter One

~~~~~

APRIL 14, 2004
THE CARLYLE BAR

As Methos walked into the bar, he thought he might be walking into a trap.
The knowledge that he was to meet BM in a public place gave him
comfort, knowing nothing could happen. He thought about the note again,
signed BM. The only BM he could think of was bowel movement. Still, he
ordered a beer and sat in the corner booth so he would be able to see the
front door, the back door was within three paces of where he sat, less, if he
found the need to run. It was the perfect spot.

He watched the people and noticed a woman was looking at him from her
seat at the bar. He didn't have the wherewithal to stand up and go talk to
her. He didn't need a reality check, he still couldn't get it up. Was she
BM? Couldn't be. She would have joined him as soon as he walked in.
He'd never seen her before. He was under the impression that even if BM
didn't know he'd changed his name to David, at least they knew each
other. He took a swig of the beer and was glad that it tasted good to him.
When it looked like the woman was going to join him, after he'd been
sitting there for fifteen minutes, he looked away to give her the hint. He
liked that he attracted women, but wondered if he'd ever care again.

At 5:20, a man walked in, and sat right down at Methos' table without an
invite. He was an older man than Methos, at least in appearance. In his
early to mid 60's. Full head of gray hair. It had been a while since Methos
saw him last, but he knew him instantly. Brett Maxwell. BM. 

Brett said as he sat, "Adam, I'm so sorry I'm late. I'm glad you didn't
leave. I got held up on the phone with new information. When I got back
to town yesterday, I saw that you had come back. I hoped you went to your
apartment. But you didn't answer the doorbell."

It must have been the sleeping pill. He'd have to quit taking them if he was
so far gone that he couldn't hear the doorbell. What if something happened
to Claire during that time? What if someone busted in and took his head?
Yep, he'd have to try to sleep on his own from then on. A waiter came up.
Brett ordered a Rob Roy. Methos said, "Well, what's this all about?"

"I've been in Chicago."

Methos shrugged. "How's the windy city?" He really didn't feel like
shooting the breeze and said, "Maxwell, we didn't know each other very
well. What--."

"This is very interesting."

"You've been reassigned?"

"When I lost track of Elizabeth," Brett said.

Interesting turn of phrase. Methos interrupted, reacting like a fingernail
just dug a trench down his spine. "She's been taken. Or didn't you know
that? Were you on vacation?"

"When I lost track of Elizabeth--," he began again.

"She's gone."

"I have no verifiable proof of that."

"Let me confirm it for you. I saw it happen." Methos drank his beer,
motioned to the waiter for another, his third. A negligent watcher wasn't
who he thought this conversation would be with. 

"You saw it?"

"Yes," Methos painfully admitted.

Brett got his drink and Methos got his beer. After the waiter left, Brett
asked wonderously, "How?"

"How? Does a sword to the neck mean anything to you?"

"Who did it?"

"Cameron James," Methos sneered. Brett sat back with disbelief when he
said that name, shook his head. Methos asked, "Is that all this is about?
Get information from me so you can cover your butt with the watchers?
It's been almost a year and you still have holes in her chronicle? I don't
have time for this."

Brett stopped Methos from leaving by grabbing his arm, pushing him back
down onto the booth seat. "Adam, listen to me."

"My name is David Sommers. How could you not have known that? How
long had you been watching Liz, and you didn't know I changed my name
to David? Have you told anyone? Does everyone know I'm David, not
Adam!?"

Brett settled him down, shook his head, "Sorry... David. I guess I'm an old
fashioned Watcher. I don't bug houses, I don't research every little thing
my assignments do, I just watch and record fights and major events."

Methos chuckled, the man didn't think his time with Elizabeth was a
'major event'. Suddenly, and for the first time, he didn't like Brett
Maxwell at all. "What have you been doing for the past year? Trying to
find a ghost? Move on, get another assignment. I'm going home."

"When was Elizabeth's beheading supposed to have happened?"

"Supposed to have...," Methos almost laughed, but Maxwell was talking
about the night his life changed forever. He gulped his beer. "This is sick,
really. What do you want? Tomorrow is the first anniversary of my losing
her. It was at midnight, or more specifically, 12:0...," he shrugged. "Six...
am. I saw it. It happened."

"That was the exact same night something very interesting happened to
me."

"I can't wait to hear it," Methos moaned and wondered what Claire was up
to.

Brett was always uncomfortable when the volume of the conversation got
too loud. He looked around at the other patrons, but no one seemed to
notice them. The music was loud, they were all mingling. He hunched over
the table and laid it out for him, "I was in Seacouver watching Elizabeth,
staking out a house in the boon docks where James' watcher, Morgan, told
me James had taken Elizabeth. I was blind sided, knocked out. I woke up
the next morning, very groggy. In Pittsburgh. I didn't know where I was or
how I got there. That morning, I found out James had hired a private plane
and flew from Seacouver to London."

Methos stared at him, so he had gone to London... but it wasn't any of his
concern, for the moment. "This is all very interesting, but it doesn't have a
damn thing to do with me." Didn't Brett know what this conversation was
doing to him? Wasn't he used to watching and reading people? How could
he keep talking about his dead wife? Did Brett even know that they had
gotten married?

"I followed James, he was the last Immortal I saw Elizabeth with. Morgan
wrote, in his chronicle, that James had taken Elizabeth's head."

"Bingo. He was on the mark."

Maxwell vehemently shook his head. "But he didn't actually see it happen.
He was also knocked out in the woods that night. He came to in time to
see you, Duncan MacLeod and Amanda Montrose reacting to Elizabeth's
death or more likely, her disappearance. There was evidence of a
quickening so he wrote that she was taken."

"Well, at least, he can see the forest for the trees."

"Simple conclusion," Brett vehemently whispered, "There was no body.
Why would they take her body with them if she was killed? That's usually
left for us to take care of." He was silent, letting it sink in for Methos, then
repeated, "There was no body for the Watchers to take care of. If he went
to all that trouble to make sure you three saw her being taken, why didn't
he leave the body for you to mourn and for us to bury? Or for you to bury.
Why did he need her body?"

Methos was silent. He'd never been married to an Immortal before, never
had any concern for what happened to his victims. He only cared when he
heard that friends were taken. Sean Burns' body... He was taken by
Duncan right in front of him and he just drove away. What happened to it?
He knew from his years with the watchers that they took care of the bodies
before the authorities got wind of the corpses, but there was no corpse of
Elizabeth for anyone to find. Until that moment, Methos had always been
glad that he hadn't seen her severed body.

Brett continued, "I followed James to London. He was holed up in his
house, with a lot of goons for three weeks. Then they left. They went to
Bonn, they had cargo. One of them was shaped like a coffin."

Methos stiffened. "So, you're telling me they had her stuffed? Where is
this going?"

"In Bonn, he rented a castle. He was holed up there for four months, lots
of goons. This is so unlike James, even Morgan was confused. James is a
social butterfly. He has more parties than the Queen of England. But for
four months, he saw no one, no one... saw him. That's unheard of."

"Is he still there?" All this talk about James, freely going around the
planet, made the impulse to get on the next plane and kill him
overpowering.

"No," Brett said. "At the end of that four month period, James left for
America with two guests. One, his right hand man, Jason Gardner. The
other, a woman who I found out is named Angel Bancroft. They first went
to New York City. They stayed for a week in the Plaza. Went to a party..."
He smiled. "Grifted. Then they went to Chicago. Angel was set up with an
apartment on Lake Street, very nice. Every so often, James would come
by, and the three of them, sometimes with goons, would travel all over the
country, all over the world. They've been robbing from the best and
wealthiest ever since."

"He's got himself quite a little racket going on. Where is he now?"
Thoughts of sawing off every limb and feeding them to rabid dogs filled
Methos' head. He grinned.

"Back in Chicago. Morgan is keeping an eye on them. We've been
working in tandem following them, and it's not easy. They take off in the
middle of the night on chartered jets, leaving behind creative flight
records. Sometimes their little jaunts to steal would only be overnighters
and we couldn't follow them." Brett smiled and shook his head. "They
have to have taken over thirty million dollars worth of jewels, paintings,
coins, stock options, and sometimes cash, from drug transactions that
never went down. And that's just in the last five months."

"Excuse me, but I'm not writing a book."

"She's Elizabeth," Brett grabbed Methos' sleeve before he could once
again leave. Methos sat back down with a mixture of disappointment that
the watcher would stoop to such a tactic to put Methos' head on the line,
and excitement at the possibility that there was even a glimmer of truth in
his story. Brett slowly repeated so it would sink in, "Angel Bancroft is
Elizabeth Bennett."

Quickly, the reflex automatic, Methos said, "Liz Sommers."

"I saw the rings on your fingers, but you weren't legally married. I looked
for the paperwork in Portugal. Granted, I didn't look for David Sommers,
but there was nothing under Elizabeth Bennett."

"That's none of your business. It doesn't matter any longer, anyway."

"Yes, it does. David, I've seen her. I've talked to her, Angel. In a caf‚. She
didn't know me even though she'd met me before. Her hair is short,
she's... hard, tough. But it's her. I know it's her."

Her watcher would know her well. What she looked like, how she moved.
Could it really be? Methos got excited. It could all be true. He mentally
processed all that had been said, then squinted, "She was alone?"

"No goons. Just herself," Brett nodded. "She waltzed into the caf‚ where I
was drinking a mug of hot chocolate, I wasn't expecting her. I thought she
had retired for the night."

Methos sat back, dejected. He'd become hopeful during Brett's story, but
it couldn't be true. He shook his head. "Then it can't be her. You're
mistaken. If she was walking around alone, there's no way she wouldn't
come back... to me." He left out the fact that she had a daughter, no need
to let the watchers know about Claire if he could help it.

"It was Elizabeth," Brett argued. "She was blond, and talked with an
English accent, but I know it was her. She's probably been brainwashed,
made into James' personal, private Patricia Hearst or something, but it was
her. I've followed her for almost three years. I've seen her in a lot of
different situations. I know her. That's why I couldn't believe she was
dead, especially when someone went to a lot of trouble to make sure I
heard about the aftermath, but wasn't able to watch the event first hand."

"Well, I did," Methos whispered, his throat dry.

"What you saw... was an elaborate hoax. I was able to break into the
Watcher database."

"Break in? Were you demoted? You'd have that access." He wondered
again what his plan was. Did he know he was Methos? Immortal? Was
this a trap, to get him comfy and hopeful, meet somewhere, then have a
bunch take his head? Was Brett Maxwell a hunter?

"I'm officially retired," Brett explained. "They wanted to reassign me, but
I chose to work on finding out what really happened. I've been working
with Morgan. An Immortal who looked remarkably similar to Elizabeth is
missing. She disappeared from her Watcher just before Elizabeth was
kidnaped by James. They had the same coloring and length of hair, the
same build, she was a little shorter than Elizabeth.... Did you notice?"

He had to admit, "I didn't get close enough to her to notice."

"Her name was Moira Darnel. I found out from breaking into the database
that her Watcher recorded that she was taken by Cameron James. In
Seacouver, Washington, USA. Freeman Park. April 16th. A few minutes
after midnight. Does that ring a bell?"

Methos slowly shook his head, it did indeed. His mind whirled back to that
night, and he tried to clearly make out who he thought was Elizabeth. "No,
I can't be tricked like that. It was Liz." Then he thought about his dream
and the distress and anguish it had brought into their lives. Maybe he'd let
himself be taken in because he was so petrified by the dream, so sure they
had no control over it.

Brett continued, "If James was to take Elizabeth, really take her head, for
whatever reason, wouldn't he have wanted to enjoy the sight of seeing you
witnessing the quickening?"

"James must have had a ball, I attacked him during it."

"I wish you would have killed him," Brett immediately said. "Because
Elizabeth is alive and she's been with Cameron James for a year."

Brett, even after forty years of watching, didn't really know all that
Immortals thought, but he knew people. "Elizabeth is living as Angel
Bancroft at this address in Chicago." He handed a piece of paper to
Methos. On it, it read 880 Lakeshore Drive #909.

"They've got a new scam going," Brett continued. "They're going to steal
something from another Immortal. If she's caught, she could get killed,
beheaded. I know we're only supposed to watch and record, but you love
her. She doesn't know what she's doing. She doesn't know... what she's
gotten herself into, that she's being used. Morgan told me that James has
had a string of grifters working for him over the years. Before Elizabeth
was kidnaped, a mortal by the name of Carlotta committed suicide. He
needed another one. This time, he got an Immortal to do his dirty work.
Morgan and I don't want to walk into the transaction they have planned.
They have guns. Big ones. We were hoping you could stop her."

Methos should have been happy, should have been jumping for joy,
shouting from the rooftops, but either his emotions were dead, or he was
too leery of the news and as usual he had to watch his head. "You've
known about this, how long? And you didn't tell me?"

"I wasn't sure for a while. Then, when I was sure. I couldn't find you. I
called your house in Sintra, I called your apartment here. I couldn't very
well leave a message on the machine. I even tried to find you in New York
thinking you'd be there." Methos realized he hadn't frequented any of his
normal stomping grounds, because it was too painful to be near anything
that reminded him of Elizabeth. Brett continued, "And she's been keeping
me on my toes. She doesn't stay in one place long enough, I have to keep
an eye on her or I could lose her. I've tacked on the frequent flyer miles. I
have three round trips anywhere in the world coming to me, all out of my
own pocket. I've been footing the bill on my own because she deserves to
have someone on her side. I'm serious, David, you have to believe me."

Methos looked at the address on the paper and debated, was it an
'elaborate hoax' to trap Methos so he could be taken. Brett almost found
out about Methos a while back. He obviously knew he was Adam Pierson
at one time, knew he was immortal, because he didn't react when he said
that Morgan had seen him revive in the park. Out of his own pocket...
footing the bill... The thought that Maxwell could have been seduced by
the hunters wouldn't stop gnawing at him. It was just too weird. Brett was
a good man, had a solid reputation. Methos could understand that he'd go
the extra mile to make the chronicle right and wanted to believe him so
badly.

Methos looked at Brett, then asked, "Why didn't you just take the
reassignment when Elizabeth was taken?"

"It didn't sit right with me. I took a vacation, then I decided I couldn't just
let Elizabeth go, and leave a lie in her chronicle. She at least deserved the
truth to be written about her, or what's the point of having them? When I
asked the Watchers to just let me investigate this until I was sure, they told
me that Elizabeth Bennett wasn't important enough to waste a good
Watcher on research."

Methos reacted to that from both fronts. He himself was a researcher, not a
peon! And, Elizabeth was more important than three/fourths of the asses
the Watchers had put on pedestals. Brett carried on, "I like Elizabeth.
She's a good soul. She's confused. She's lost. She's alive. Find her and
stop her, or she really will lose her head."

~~~~~

LOFT

Methos mechanically walked in after Duncan answered the door at the top
of the stairway. Claire was laughing as Amanda danced for her. The
grownups smiled a welcome to Methos, but Claire acted mad. He had left
her again. He sauntered over to his daughter and, against her will for the
moment, picked her up and joyfully hugged her. Her mother could really
be alive! Duncan handed him a beer, told him to sit down and tell them
what the meeting was all about and the identity of BM. 

He sat down and Claire rolled off of his lap onto the floor and strutted
away. He smiled, "She can carry a grudge. Maybe I've been spoiling her
too much." He took a long sip of beer, suddenly, it was tasting as it always
had. Like nectar from the Gods. 

Amanda asked, "Well, who was BM? What did he or she want to say?"

He told them point blank, "Liz could still be alive."

"What?!" Amanda's eyes bugged out, she sat forward in the chair.

Duncan walked to the back of her chair and put his hand on her shoulder,
for support. "Says who?"

Methos took another long sip and scanned the all too familiar label on the
bottle. "Brett Maxwell. That's who called the meeting."

Duncan collapsed on the couch next to him and Amanda plopped down on
the coffee table in front of him to get the scoop. Methos told them most of
what Brett Maxwell had told him over a beer and a Rob Roy. When he
was finished, Duncan shook his head, "It's not her. We saw her taken.
She's dead, Methos."

"Not according to Maxwell. I trust him."

"You want to trust him," Duncan argued. "You want Liz to be alive. Look
what happened in London, you dropped Claire and didn't notice because
you were so focused on a 'vision' of Liz." Methos wondered why he told
Duncan anything, if he was just going to bring up the past to dampen his
enthusiasm. "This could be a trap to get Methos' head."

"I thought of that, but if there is one chance in a million that Lizzie is alive
and not living with me and her daughter... I have to find her. I was hoping
you'd go with me, in case it is a trap. I'm not stupid. Together, we will
find her and protect each other's back."

Duncan thought about it all and finally said, "If this is true, maybe she
doesn't want to be found."

"Maybe she doesn't know what the hell is going on?"

"Brainwashing?" Duncan laughed. "You really believe that? We can't be
brainwashed."

"Why not? We can be coke heads, maniacs, addicted to sleeping pills..."
He pointed at Amanda, "Look at what happened to her during the week of
Amy's wedding. Why couldn't someone reprogram us? Fool with our
heads? We're not that special."

"This is..." Duncan said as he shook his head. "Why couldn't we see it?
I've had a private detective on it."

"He was looking for James, not Liz. James' watcher and Brett knew where
he was, but couldn't get a hold of me. I wasn't at home."

Amanda said, "But we saw it. We saw her. I touched her. I got her
wedding ring."

Methos had never been taken in by a cunning immortal before and he
didn't like the thought that he'd been duped over something as important
as this, didn't like it at all. He spouted, "It's easy to take off a ring and put
it on another woman's finger. If Brett is to be believed, it was an Immortal
named Moira Darnel, who's the spitting image of Elizabeth, only shorter.
Did you guys notice?"

"Moira?" Amanda cried out.

Surprised, Methos asked, "Do you know her?"

"Yeah... I've known her for over 300 years. She's a... teacher. An
elementary school teacher, the last I heard. We lost touch over the last
decade or so, but... why in the world?"

"You touched her," Methos said, suddenly interested in her and what she
had to say. He grabbed her hands and plead, "Was it her? Was it Moira?"

Both Methos and Duncan were looking to her for confirmation of the
truthfulness of what Brett Maxwell had to say, so she thought back to that
horrible night. She had to admit, "I don't know. It was dark. I thought it
was Liz." Amanda sat back shaken by the knowledge that it was indeed a
friend who was taken, just a different one. "Now that I think about it, Liz
and Moira did look an awful lot alike. I guess I never got a clear look at
her face... before her head flew."

Duncan leaned in and comforted Amanda when she started to cry. "It
makes no sense. Even if all this is true, why would James do it? Why
Liz?"

"Brett said that James had always used women to rob for him," Methos
replied.

Amanda took a deep breath. "Carlotta."

Duncan looked at her, "James' mistress?"

"One of them," Amanda nodded. "Carlotta was a cat thief. They worked
together for years. I heard rumors she committed suicide."

Methos nodded, "That's what Brett said, and James had to fill the void in
his business that she left behind."

Duncan mused, "Is that how he's been bankrolling himself all these years?
Stealing? Or rather, having women steal for him?"

"I only know him socially, and he's ripped things off from me. I mean,
he's a cat thief. He's not a kidnapper or a killer," Amanda said before she
thought. James, had indeed, done just that, to two of her friends. 

By that time, Claire forgave her father and waddled over to him. He picked
her up and sat her on his lap. Methos told them, "According to Brett, Liz is
living as Angel Bancroft in Chicago. I'm going to find out. I have her
address."

Amanda started crying, grieved over the loss of Moira, but also with relief
that Elizabeth could be alive. "It could really be true? This is amazing."

Duncan held her and agreed. Methos said, "You have to come with me. To
protect my head, if nothing else."

Amanda said, "We'll all go."

"No," Methos said. "I need you to take care of Claire." Hearing her father
say her name, she smiled up at Methos. "Take Claire somewhere James
wouldn't know about." When he said that, Claire seemed to know,
understand, that the words 'Claire' and 'take' were in the same sentence.
She held onto Methos, "Papa, no."

Methos excitedly told her, "It's all right. I have to go and get Mama." As
soon as the words were out of his mouth, he whooped with glee.

~~~~~

APRIL 16, 2004
CHICAGO

Duncan and Methos sat in the lobby of the 880 Lakeshore Drive building.
They had already rung Angel Bancroft's apartment on the house phone.
No answer. A man's voice was on her answering machine. Methos had
Duncan listen to it. "Who's that? Is it familiar? I don't remember what
James sounds like I only heard his voice once, the night he took her."

After re-dialing her number and listening, Duncan nodded, "Cameron
James." He hung up, noticed the curling smile that formed on Methos'
face, he was obviously happy that the pieces were coming together, and
that his wife might actually be alive and living in this building. 

Duncan warned him, "This could be a hoax set up by James to take your
head, or both of our heads. He could have paid Maxwell to set you up. Joe
confirmed that Maxwell did retire after Liz's death, maybe he needs some
money." 

Methos said, "That's why you're here. To protect me. I'll protect you."

"Great." Looking around the lobby Duncan mused, "Nice place this Angel
is living in. I wonder what she did to get such an address... So, what now?"

"We see if she leaves or comes back... If James shows up... Just watch."

"I'm not a Watcher."

Methos smiled, "But you've always wanted to be a detective."

Duncan looked at his old friend and realized that this was the first real
smile he'd worn in a very long time. This better not be a scam. He didn't
know Brett Maxwell personally, just heard of him from Methos and Joe.
They sat back on the chairs in the lobby watching the people who lived
there as they came and went. High class, well-moneyed people. Methos
speculated that he and MacLeod probably had more money than any of
them, but they didn't flaunt their wealth. New money, he shook his head.
Only someone with new money paraded their wealth so obviously. They
were probably living beyond their means, too.

They felt a buzz and simultaneously turned and looked out the large
window just behind them with a clear view onto the street. A short haired
blond with killer legs got out of a cab carrying a garment bag. As she bent
over to pay the driver, Methos stood, transfixed. Short, styled blond hair.
A soft pink skirt, with a white t-shirt under the matching pink jacket. High
heels. Lots of makeup. An expensive black leather handbag.

As she stepped onto the sidewalk, a man bumped into her. She dropped
her handbag, but she smiled at him, flirted actually, as he bent and picked
it up for her. Both Duncan and Methos saw her slip her hand into his back
pocket take his wallet and drop it into her garment bag while his back was
turned. She winked a thank you at her unsuspecting victim when he left. 

She walked into the lobby. Methos almost fainted; she was real, there, in
the same room with him. Even though they most certainly felt her
immortal buzz, she didn't seem to react at all. Methos poked Duncan, "It's
her!" They yelled, "Elizabeth!" She didn't even turn her head. She had to
feel their buzz, why didn't she look around? They had to make their way
across the lobby, around chairs, people, planters... 

She got onto the elevator. "Liz!" They ran, getting in just before the doors
shut. Methos grabbed her, hugged her, kissed her, couldn't believe he was
actually touching her again. Angel panicked, dropped the garment bag and
pulled a gun, a big gun out of her purse. It had a silencer attached that
made it look even more imposing, and aimed it at Methos' face. 

He jerked back as she dropped the purse in order to use both hands to train
the gun on him. "Don't move a muscle." She kept an eye on Duncan, who
held his arms up. She asked in a clipped British accent, "Do you work for
Roberts?"

Maybe it wasn't her, just an incredible look alike. Elizabeth would never,
ever behave in such a manner. Methos looked into her eyes but was
convinced it was her. "You're alive...." he cried out. "You're truly alive."

"And I plan on staying that way," she nodded, then looked up at the
numbers. They were nearing the sixth floor. She pushed the button for the
seventh. When the doors opened, she stepped out, keeping the gun on
them.

Duncan, nearer to the door than Methos, said, "Liz...," as she walked by.
What he shouldn't have done is reach for her arm, making her think he
was going to attack her. Angel kicked out and shot him as she backed
away. He fell back into the elevator, pushing Methos back to the floor as
the doors closed. 

She ran down the hall to the stairs. She was out of the building and down
the street before the elevator opened on the floor her apartment was on.
The bullet entered just to the right of Duncan's major organs. "She didn't
mean to kill you," Methos said. 

Duncan clutched his stomach and coughed, "That doesn't make me feel
better."

While the blue sparks healed his wound, Methos opened the garment bag.
Inside was a very elegant, expensive green evening gown and matching
shoes, and the stolen wallet. He went through her purse. Along with
makeup, a compact and a tube of lipstick, there was an ID card and
driver's license for Angel Bancroft. Methos stared at her picture, swept his
finger across it. He handed it to Duncan, "Tell me that's not her."

~~~~~

ON THE CORNER OF MICHIGAN AND PEARSON

Angel was sorry she didn't have a coat, the wind was brisk with the threat
of snow. But, she thought she'd just be in and out of warm cabs and stores
before returning to her apartment. Damn it! She yanked the cell phone out
of her jacket pocket as she hurried down the street, as fast as she could go
in the high heels. She checked back once in a while to see if she'd been
followed. She dialed as she cursed herself for losing her purse. She yelled
into the phone with her oh so proper accent, "Jason! Come and get me!
I'm by the water tower. On the corner of Michigan and Pearson. The
north-east side. Hurry!"

Jason pulled up in a Saab within minutes. She ran to the car, got in and
hurriedly kissed him saying, "Change of plans."

He burned rubber to get them farther from whatever danger she had
encountered.

~~~~~

880 LAKESHORE DRIVE

Brett Maxwell saw Duncan and Methos walk to their car in the parking
garage. As soon as Methos saw him, he grabbed Maxwell by the neck,
pushed him against the concrete wall and took joy in pressing his arm
under Maxwell's chin. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?!"

Maxwell was glad he hadn't been imagining things for the last year. David
had confirmed it, but his grip was uncomfortably tight at his neck. "It is
her, isn't it?"

"She pulled a GUN on me!" Methos pressed his arm harder against Brett's
neck. "She didn't even know who I was!"

"She's been perfectly molded into James' soldier!" Brett choked out,
losing air from the force of Methos' arm on his throat.

Duncan pulled Methos back as Brett gasped for air, then coughed, "She's
going to be at the benefit tonight! You can get her there. Morgan
eavesdropped and got wind of their plan."

"How do we know she isn't going to skip town?"

Maxwell vehemently shook his head with a knowing smile, "No way. It's
a three million dollar take they've set up for tonight. She's going to be
alone in a hotel room with the john for at least fifteen minutes."

Methos freaked, "The what?!" Was she a prostitute?

"Target... patsy... mark, what do you call them? The drug dealing Immortal
they're going to rob. She's going to bring him to her room and get him
comfortable, then the sting will happen. They're going to give her fifteen
minutes alone with him to loosen him up, get him drunk, probably drug
him."

"Why does she have an accent?"

"It's like James'? I don't know."

~~~~~

CONGRESS PLAZA HOTEL

Angel and Jason walked into James' hotel room, and he knew she was
coming. He'd looked at the screen on the homing beacon monitor he used
and watched as her blip came steadily closer to his hotel from her
apartment building. He flung open the door as soon as he felt her buzz and
yelled, "We can't be seen together. You may be watched by Davenport's
men."

Angel hurried into the room and explained, "I was accosted by two shits in
the elevator of my building."

"Who were they?" James looked both ways down the hall and shut and
locked the door.

"I didn't stay long enough to find out. I may have killed one, I'm not sure.
I hate it when I do that."

James kissed her and rubbed her back as she needed to relax. "Of course,
you killed him. You were taught by the very best."

She loved being on the receiving end of his admiration and did relax after
taking a deep breath. "Can I get my shot now? I'm feeling a little woozy
this afternoon. Too much excitement. Please?"

James smiled and said, "Take off your pantyhose."

She seductively sat on the chair and lifted her hands under her dress.
Pulled down the hose and took them off, always keeping eye contact with
James. Jason didn't like how the two of them played with each other, but
wouldn't dream of saying anything. Later, he'd make his agitation known
to Angel. He hated like hell to hurt her, but when was she ever going to
learn? It's a good thing she was immortal and didn't have lasting bruises.
It was remarkable, actually.

James injected her between her toes. She sat back and trembled as the
yellow fluid made it's way up her leg and meshed with her own blood
supply, flowing through her body. James caressed her leg and said, "You
have to do something for me, dear."

She moaned, "Anything."

"Take that bastard's money tonight. He owes me. It's in town. My men
saw it being transferred to his car from the plane he flew in on."

"Yes, sir. But we can't go with the original plan."

"Of course, you can. But remember, Angel," James smiled. "I would
prefer it if you just drug him, not shoot him. I want to do that myself after
we get him to the warehouse before I take his lying, filthy head. You won't
be alone. My men will watch over you. The plan is foolproof. You will
'relax' him while he's out of sight of his men, and my men will take him
away."

"Those guys in the elevator...," Angel tightly asked. "What if they know
about it? I'll be unprotected."

James laughed. "With all the target practice you've been having... You
aren't a scared little cat anymore, are you Angel?" He brushed his hands
through her hair and purred, "You can protect yourself. Like you did this
afternoon. Jason, Louis and Gage will always be in eye sight. Won't you,
Gardner?"

"Of course, sir," Jason replied without hesitation.

"We can't have anything happen to my best girl, now can we?" When
James kissed her and she responded. Jason seethed. 

~~~~~

JASON'S APARTMENT

Jason's place wasn't a favorite hangout of Angel's but it would do in a
pinch. Those two goons knew where she lived, so she couldn't go home
until after the dust cleared. She hoped they worked for Davenport, and not
Roberts, she shivered at the thought of Cole Roberts, one of the nastiest
men she'd ever met, and the fact that he was immortal made him even
more unpleasant. But she shook it off, she had to get ready for the millions
of US dollars she was going to find in a suitcase that evening and needed a
place to prep. If she could devise a way to get the three million
commission for herself and get away, she would, but it would be almost
impossible, for several reasons. Two of which were the goons in the
elevator, another was the implement of James' she carried in her body.
She'd already learned her lesson, trying to get away from James, she had
to do it carefully.

By the time they arrived at Jason's place, James had already delivered a
new outfit for her to wear to the party, a full stock of freshly purchased
cosmetics and a note that informed her that a woman would be over to do
her hair.

Angel took a shower while Jason paced. His anger was explosive. He
didn't live in as nice a place as Angel, why couldn't he live on Lake
Street? He had been working for James for thirteen years. Unlucky
thirteen. Then he smirked, he wasn't screwing the boss, that's probably
why his address was a bit west of the lake. He had only taken whatever
compensation James decided to dole out to him. One day, that was going
to change. One day he'd get up enough courage to cut that bastard's head
off, because he knew that was the only way to kill him. Jason was just
biding his time. He hadn't told anyone of his plans, not even Angel, who
he had decided to take with him.

Jason had seen James and Angel die on numerous occasions. He was their
designated protector while they were vulnerable. It amazed him every
single time they drew a breath and healed. In the thirteen years he'd
worked for James, the man had never aged. James never explained any of
it. At first, Jason actually believed he was special, like a God. He'd been a
kid. Jason had worked for James long enough to have met his chief
grifters, first Maureen, then Carlotta. Then the arrival of Angel. Over time,
Jason came to know the full truth, when James couldn't hide his
immortality anymore and needed help getting the better of others like him. 

Jason hadn't known it when he was initially introduced to Angel, but
following her first death just a couple of weeks after starting work for
James, he realized that his employer wasn't the only one of his ilk. He
knew then that there had to be more of them. He didn't know what they
were, didn't really care. All he cared about was the money he was given...
that he deemed unfair... and slowly he came to care about Angel... she was
so different from the other women in James' life. She was funny, but
ruthless. Sexy, but coy. An immortal... who would give it to James any
time he wanted her. 

He heard the shower run and remembered the outrageous display she
showed James at his hotel. Anger boiled through his system so strong he
couldn't control himself. By the time the shower was turned off, he
couldn't handle his jealousy anymore. He bust into the bathroom as she
was drying off. He yelled as he hit and kicked her. "Don't ever make me
feel like a fool again, Angel! Or I will kill you! No more fucking him! I
mean it!" Then he grabbed her and pushed her back into the shower, she
fell through the glass door and landed with a thud in the tub.

He barreled out of the bathroom while she laid there coughing up blood.
She tried, but couldn't get up because some bones were broken. Her side
hurt more than the rest of her. The cause was a piece of embedded glass
from the shower door. After pulling it out, she laid back letting her broken
bones and cuts heal, biting back the pain. She wouldn't let any of them
hear her pain. 

She finally stood up and looked in the mirror at the mess he had made of
her body. As she watched, the bruise on her cheek, the pain in her side, the
redness on her arm and hip... disappeared. There was no remnant of his
brutality visible, only the memory that she had to live with, yet again. 

One day, she was going to have to take care of Jason. She didn't need to
take his head, just shoot him. She knew he wasn't immortal because she'd
seen him bleed and he didn't heal like James and she did. A single shot to
the head, Angel nodded, smiled to herself. Quick, painless. One day she
was going to do it. When she worked up the courage. When she thought
his passing wouldn't give her trouble with Cameron. When she didn't
need him to protect her, like she would need him that evening. Jason was
ruthless with a gun, a crack shot that could hit a dime from a block away.
He was also protective of any and all that threatened her or James, and she
needed that, if only for one more night. Then she might find the courage to
bolt with three million of James' money and never see either of them
again.

She walked out of the bathroom wearing only a towel, with another
wrapped around her hair. Her clothes were neatly laid out on the bed,
along with Jason's tux. Jason was sipping a beer and looking out the
window. He wouldn't look at her as he took a seat in his recliner in front
of the TV. She walked over and stepped behind him, wrapping her arms
around his neck and whispered in his ear, "I'm not fucking anybody but
you."

Jason shut his eyes. At times, her accent sounded just like James'. He
chuckled, "Why don't I believe that?"

Angel laughed and lifted his hand to her lips, "Cameron is impotent. He
tried to once and couldn't get it up. He has too much pride to take viagra. I
think he's a latent homosexual, too. So, you see... there's no way I'm
'fucking' him as you so eloquently put it. He only teases, flirts because it
makes him feel better, feel like a man, like he's in control. I want those
shots, so I let him. Just like you do every two-bit thing he demands of you.
It's because you want something in exchange."

"What's in those shots?

"I have no idea, but I can't be without them." She nuzzled her nose against
his ear and whispered, "Say you're sorry."

"Ah baby, I'm sorry," he moaned as he grabbed her head. The towel
slipped off, and he pawed at her wet, tangled hair. "I just get so jealous."

She smiled. "I like your jealousy."

"Did I hurt you?"

"Do you see a mark?" She rubbed her hand across his head, and decided
that would be where she would shoot him. Just above his right ear. One
day. When she had no other choice. She didn't consider herself a killer,
and the few times she had shot someone, she had regarded it as self-
defense. "Don't do it again."

"How about if I fuck you right here, right now?"

"The hairdresser's coming soon," she stood, Jason keeping a hold of her
arm. "We have to be at the benefit by eight o'clock."

They looked at each other, smiled. They had plenty of time. He moved her
in front of him and flipped off her towel. She stood straight as Jason
looked her over. She was too skinny for his usual taste, but what she did in
bed was amazing. She pulled him to his feet, and told him, "Well, it's all
for you."

When he finally stopped smiling, Jason grabbed her, pushed her to the
floor, spread her legs, and she let him do whatever he wanted. She hated
sex after a beating, but it was the only way to get Jason's head back on
business, not simmering with jealousy. They had a score to make that
evening and she needed him alert, wanting only her safety.

She wasn't expecting him to enter quite so fast, shrieked as he tore into her
dry vagina. But then, when he was pumping hard, deep, like she liked it,
she went with it, melted at his touch on her neck. That was her most
vulnerable spot and the tingles charged down her spine. She tickled his
back, whispered in his ear, massaged his butt, all things he liked to make
him even more excited. When he kissed her during sex, she knew he
thought she was completely his.

When they were finished, she really did hate the feeling she always had
after such sessions with Jason. Playful, slow, romantic had given way to
rough, fast and controlling in recent days, that only made her feel used.
She had to get away, soon. She knew that if she stayed with him and James
much longer, something would happen, that she would die.

As Jason strutted into the bathroom, she ran her hand over her body again.
Maybe this time she would be able to feel it inside her and know where it
was so she could have it removed, and finally gain her freedom. Freedom.
Safety. Normalcy. Words she didn't feel could describe her life at all since
before she could remember. 

~~~~~

THE DRAKE HOTEL
7:54 PM

Duncan and Methos, in tuxes, looking pretty sharp, showed up at the
benefit for the Peace Museum. It was the second time Methos had needed
a tux in the last decade, he wasn't comfortable about it and felt a little on
edge having to leave his sword in the car. They went through tight
security, like boarding a plane, and stood on the sidelines of the massive
ballroom decked out for a 'charity dinner'. 

Maxwell, also dressed in a tuxedo, saw them enter and immediately joined
them, "She's here. She'll be down in a few minutes to introduce herself to
the mark."

Methos didn't like his choice of words at all, and wondered what the hell
she'd been up to all this time while he and Claire had been trying to plan a
life, without her. He asked, "Who is the 'mark'?"

Maxwell pointed to a tanned man who looked around forty years old. He
was standing with an older looking woman, most likely his wife, probably
mortal. They didn't regard each other in any sort of intimate manner. They
saw him catch sight of someone and smile. They followed his field of
vision and saw Angel had made an appearance by a side door, smiling at
him from the bar. She ordered a drink and tilted her head for him to join
her.

Methos couldn't stand it. He needed to touch her, know that she was real,
without MacLeod getting shot, or getting their heads taken. Methos still
could not believe she'd shot Mac. She had to be under some abnormal
influence. Her hair was short, blond. She was thinner than Elizabeth. Her
pink, backless dress revealed every rib and bone of her spine. Even
without seeing if she had the scar on her neck, as she stood at the bar,
Methos was certain she was Elizabeth. If she wasn't, he could see how
Maxwell got confused. Along with the pink, slinky dress, she wore a ruby
necklace, earrings and bracelet that had to be worth a million bucks, easy,
he wondered how she got them. 

Duncan saw the ruby jewelry and wondered if that rock in the necklace
was the very one that Amanda had stolen and they had to return as ransom
for Elizabeth the first time that James had kidnapper her. For a moment, he
wondered if James knew they were there, and outfitted Angel in that ruby
just to taunt them. He scanned the room and all the exits, and no one was
paying them any attention.

Duncan caught Methos' facial expression just in time, like a dog looking
at a bone he couldn't have, and held him back. "Don't screw it up,"
Duncan whispered loudly in Methos' ear. "We don't know what's in the
room. Who she is. How she's going to react to anything, or how anyone
else will either. Let's just follow her when she goes to the room. She'll be
alone eventually."

Maxwell agreed and fervently nodded, "Morgan and I worked hard to
figure this all out. A lot of innocent people could get killed. These aren't
people to fool with." Duncan asked who the 'mark' was and Brett
answered, "Rocco Davenport."

Both Methos and Duncan said, "Never heard of him."

Methos watched Angel smile and flirt with Davenport at the bar. When
she pulled out a cigarette, the gent lit it for her as she smiled. Davenport's
wife just turned her head, let the display happen. Methos wondered if the
wife had lovers, too, if they had what was called an open marriage. He had
never understood open marriages.

He seethed at how blatant Elizabeth, or 'Angel' was. Elizabeth would
never behave like that. She was smoking, seemed to know what she was
doing. Blew smoke rings. Didn't cough. He saw James walk up behind
her, startling her with a touch to her shoulder. Methos was confused, why
didn't she feel him coming? He verbalized his thoughts, "If we follow her,
won't she sense us? Wouldn't that scare her again? She didn't seem to
sense us in the elevator, or James just now."

A lilting laugh was heard and they looked at Angel, seemingly having the
time of her life at the bar, cozying up to Davenport while James hovered
around them. Both Methos and Duncan wanted to haul ass over there and
tear James apart limb from limb. She did not sense James, or Davenport,
and they were too far from away for the men to sense them. Duncan said,
"I'm going to check something out. Watch her."

Methos muttered, "There's nothing else here to hold my attention."

Duncan walked towards them until he felt their buzzes, then walked away,
then back again to see their reactions. Angel didn't even skip a beat in her
conversation, but James and Davenport did. It was only when she noticed
them looking around that she did. Methos turned to Maxwell and asked,
"How? That's a natural instinct."

Brett said, "James had her the whole time he was in hiding. Maybe that's
one of the things they were doing to her. Is it possible to suppress the
buzz?"

"I've never heard of it. Why would he do that?" Then Methos knew, he
nodded. "So he can sneak up on her. But how did he do it?"

Duncan walked back to the bar, making sure James couldn't see him.
Angel's focus was on her job for the evening, Davenport. They were
talking very closely. She was a good flirt. Methos thought that the little
toad deserved whatever he would get from them, being a drug runner.
There were more reputable ways to make money. Then Methos cringed. A
portion of his own wealth came from the suffering of others. 

He shook it off. He couldn't think about that. Davenport's wife finally
rejoined them at the bar. James introduced Angel to her. Angel took her
hand and curtsied. Brett said, "She's a countess." Methos didn't like the
way both men looked at Elizabeth's chest when the top of her dress
billowed out during the curtsy.

"A Count is a drug runner?" Duncan asked.

Brett chuckled, "There's no money in being royal anymore."

Jason walked to the elevator banks and Brett told them, "He works for
James." They went to the door of the ballroom, just inside security and
watched the numbers of the elevator tick off the floor he went to. 

Davenport and his wife walked away from the bar. James and Angel talked
for a moment, then he kissed her, roughly, and she responded. Methos was
ready to draw his sword and slashed everyone in the room except
MacLeod and Elizabeth. Well... Methos was so angry at that moment, he
could have taken her out too.

She started towards the exit through the throng of people mingling about.
Duncan and Methos hurried past the security checkpoint and around the
corner. Brett said a quick prayer that all would go well, and went to find
Morgan.

Angel nodded to two goons who looked like fish out of water in their
rented tuxes, and Duncan recognized one as the man who delivered the
letter after Elizabeth was kidnaped the first time. One of them lingered
close to her and after he walked away, she adjusted something on her leg
through the slit in her dress. The men went up the stairs and she was alone
by the elevators. As soon as the doors opened, Methos said, "Go!" and
they ran to her. Another guest of the hotel walked on the elevator car with
her, but Duncan grabbed him and shoved him out just as the doors closed. 

Angels' world collapsed as she recognized them from that afternoon
thinking that their sole purpose was to kill her. She yelled, "Get the hell
away from me!" She reached for the gun Louis had given her, she kicked.
Methos grabbed her foot and pulled, making her slip onto her butt. But she
was quick, she got back up in a swift movement and pulled the trusty little
revolver with the silencer out of her garter belt and pointed it at Duncan's
nose. She pushed him back against the wall, then pushed the stop button. 

The elevator ground to a halt and she screamed over the blaring alarm,
"What the fuck do you want? To kill me? Roberts lost fair and square! I'm
not taking any shit from him anymore!"

Methos wailed painfully, "Lizzie, it's me." 

She looked at him, got a shiver, and didn't comprehend her reaction. She
shot him in cold blood, dead center in the chest. Duncan watched him fall,
looked at Elizabeth. He moaned with his hand up, "No," just before she
shot him, too. Duncan fell toward her, held on to her in shock. She pushed
him off. "Don't get blood on me!" He fell on top of Methos then rolled to
the floor.

She looked at the dead men. "Shit!" She paced, this was too scary. She
pushed the top floor button to kill the alarm and muttered to herself that
they would have killed her if they had gotten the chance. "They said this
wouldn't happen! God dammit!" She looked down at their corpses. "Who
the fuck are you?" She steadied her butt on her ankles and stilettos,
fumbled through Methos' pant pockets and found his wallet. "David
Sommers. Hope you were paid well, David Sommers. Though you'll never
get to spend it." She went through the wallet, found a cropped picture of
herself with long dark hair. She didn't know where or when it was taken,
wasn't even sure it was her, she couldn't recall ever having dark hair in her
life. "They give you photos to make sure you kill the right one, huh?"

She took the money out, a couple hundred dollars, and flipped the wallet
out of her hand. She looked at her dress. No blood. Thank goodness. She
hated blood and she still had a job to do. She knelt down to fumble
through Duncan's pants, came up with his wallet. "Duncan MacLeod.
Never heard of you either."

As she was taking his money, she wondered what to do with the bodies,
and the blood in the elevator. She'd have to let Gage and Louis take care
of it and watched the lights signal each floor as they made their way up.

She felt a hand hit her ankle and heard two loud breaths. Duncan and
Methos both revived, and it scared the shit out of her. She fell off her
spikes to the floor. They were both immortal like her! She wouldn't be
able to get rid of them so easily and didn't have a sword. Both men sat up.
She fumbled for the gun that she had holstered in her garter belt. Methos
jerked up and wrestled her for it. 

She screamed, "NO!" just as another shot rang out. Angel gulped, stared at
Methos as if to damn him to hell. The fear of not knowing what would
happen to her while she was disabled showed clearly on her face. Her
fingernails had been scratching at his sleeves, her hands relaxed and fell to
the floor, along with her head, she lay dead, in his arms. Her neck was
exposed to Methos and he felt elated for a moment. He would know that
scar he had put on her neck anywhere, and traced his finger against it. His
wife was in this shell of a woman, somewhere.

Duncan pushed the button for the next floor. The doors opened and he
looked both ways down the hall as Methos pocketed their wallets, picked
her up and leaned her against the wall. Duncan gave the all clear, and he
swept her into his arms and they ran down the hall to the stairs. 

In the stairwell, she revived and wrestled out of Methos' arms. Her
movements made her fall down the rest of the steps. On the landing, she
jumped up, ignoring the pain in her shattered knee, trying to make her way
to safety. She hobbled away quickly, as if her life depended on it, which in
her mind, it did. Duncan grabbed for her and she screamed. He silenced
her by punching her in the nose, knocking her out. He lifted her up and
they ran down the stairs to the lobby. 

The stairwell emptied into another area of the lobby and Methos peered
out to see people gathered at the elevator, probably from the commotion
caused by the alarm going off in the stalled car. Methos told Duncan, after
a quick look at the unconscious woman he had leaning against the wall,
"I'll get the coats." The blood on their clothes was going to be hard to
conceal without them. He closed his tux jacket over the stain on his chest
and walked out. Duncan looked at Angel's face, and didn't see anything he
recognized in her expression. Except for that scar, it was hard to believe it
was Elizabeth.

Returning, Methos tossed Duncan his coat and said, "I'll get the car."

Duncan pressed against her to keep her standing as he hurriedly put on his
coat and then wrapped it around the both of them. He lifted her up and
walked out to the lobby, making sure there wasn't any blood showing. The
people weren't paying any attention to them, they were still chattering
about the elevator alarm. 

A doorman asked Duncan if there was something wrong, seeing the odd
sight of two people in one coat. The woman's head resting on the man's
shoulder. "My wife had too much to drink," Duncan smiled. "I'm going to
get her home. I'd appreciate it if we didn't attract attention... you know."

The doorman regarded the woman peacefully asleep with her head resting
on the man's shoulder, he understood the rich and their secrets. He held
the door open for them. Duncan nodded, smiled, "Thank you."

Methos pulled the car to a screeching halt at the hotel entrance and reached
over to open the back seat door. As Duncan slid into the car with Angel,
the tingling sensation from a new buzz tickled at his gut. James. Duncan
smiled 'gotcha' as he saw him rush out of the hotel with his men. The
back door slammed shut from the momentum as Methos hit the gas
peddle. Bullets rang out, but none hit the car, Methos took the corner at the
speed of light.

When Angel came to, Duncan was laying over her. She screamed. "Get off
me! What do you want?! Get off me!" She was quiet for a moment, felt the
blood on her upper lip that had poured out of her nose, then dried up. She
quietly said, "I'm not going to tell you anything, so you may as well kill
me."

"He already did," Duncan tossed out as he sat up.

Methos pulled into an office building parking lot, stopped the car and
rushed into the back seat. He hugged her, kissed her. She slapped him,
"Let go of me! What the hell do you want? You rape before you take
women's heads?" She moved back from him, almost onto Duncan's lap.
She was uncomfortably sandwiched between them. 

Methos wondered if her remark referred to his Horseman days. At least
she knew she was immortal. He said, "We're not going to hurt you. It's
me, Lizzie."

"You work for Roberts," she accused, not knowing who he was, stiffening
between the two men who she was convinced had come to kill her.

"No."

"Who do you work for?"

"No one."

"Then let me go."

"No. You're coming with us."

"Why?"

Methos put his hand to her face, she batted it away. Duncan got out. She
was going to follow him out of the car, but Methos held her back. Duncan
got into the front seat and drove. As he sped out, she got the door open.
Methos pulled it shut trapping her on the seat, "Elizabeth! It's me!"

She cried from confusion. Too many questions floated through her head,
the first one being who the hell was Elizabeth? How had Jason let this
happen? And most importantly, why would Duncan MacLeod and David
Sommers not kill her as soon as they laid eyes on her? They had to work
for Roberts, that son of a bitch had had the gall to threaten her. It was
months ago, but she heard his threats every night as she tried to sleep.
Roberts had straddled her as he promised, "When you least expect it, Ms.
Bancroft, you'll lose more than your head. I'll start with each and every
finger, then, your nose, then your tits..."

These two had to be lying, or they could work for James , out to trick her,
or for any of a hundred of their victims. She knew, as soon as she saw
them that afternoon, that they were going to be trouble. They were both
Immortal. She killed them. They killed her. What did they do to her while
she was dead? Would they kill her again? Quickly taking inventory, she
saw that she had all her body parts... Would they still take her head?

Duncan stopped the car when they reached their hotel parking lot. He said,
"I'll get our stuff and check out. Wait there." And then he was gone.

Angel tried to devise a plan to get out of the car. That David person kept
looking at her. At one point, she thought he was crying. When he reached
out for her, she snapped, "Don't touch me." She'd been poked and
prodded too often. In her scared and confused state, flashes of things came
back to her. She was strapped down on a table, but couldn't figure out
where, when, why or by whom. She heard James' voice filter into her
mind, but he was talking about her life, not talking to her. She thought she
was going insane, she needed to get away!

Every time she'd move a muscle, David would be right there to counter it.
She felt her leg for her gun, but didn't have it. That little present had come
in handy on many occasions. She hated killing anyone, but it was always
them or her. That's what she liked to tell herself. She hadn't really needed
to kill them in the elevator, just hold the gun on them until she got out, and
run like hell. The situation had been the same that afternoon. Jason was
just upstairs and he would have protected her. Were there other times
when she hadn't needed to shoot? She looked down at herself; the lights of
the parking lot shone on her pink dress, now stained red.

"Is this a dream? Am I dead?" she quietly asked. Things were definitely
not as she expected.

Methos said, "You tried to pretend you were for a year. Do you sense
me?"

"What are you talking about?" Her diction was proper, English, much like
James'. Methos didn't like it one bit. She looked out the window when a
glorious thought entered her head, maybe Jason followed them. She would
be saved. 

When she turned her head to look behind the car for help, Methos took
hold of her chin and made her face him, "Do you feel me?"

"Yes, your leg," she said, jerking her head out of his hand. "Could you
move it?"

"No. Look at me." He had to take her face again for her to actually look at
him. He didn't think he'd be so happy to see that damn scar he put on her
neck in Seacouver, but it was the only thing about her that he recognized.
The color of her eyes was right, but they were tight, her mouth clenched.
Elizabeth's body shape was non-existent; her collarbones were visible. She
was guarded and acted like he was a complete and utter stranger. "What
did he do to you?"

"Who?"

"James."

"Cameron? He saved my life." She said it a little too fast, too programed.
For the first time after saying them, those words were hollow, even though
she had been reciting them, to many people, for a long time. For as long as
she could remember. Cameron James was everything to her, after she died
300 years before in Glasgow. James had found her, had been her teacher.
She told him that she trusted Cameron James unquestionably, but why did
the thoughts seem so untrue?

"He took your life," Methos snarled. "He molded you into... something..."

"I'd be dead if it wasn't for him. I've never seen you before. Do you work
for him?"

"I work for myself. No one's going to hurt you."

She humpfed, and quietly moaned, "That's what they all say."

"Where have you been?" She didn't know what he meant and didn't care.
After a period of silence, she looked at him, at the red stain on his white
shirt, square in the middle of his chest. He never took his eyes off her, he
was so intent, he was planning something. He looked at her like he really
knew her while she couldn't place him from a hole in the wall. 

There was a bulge in the left side pocket of his jacket, and she made the
assumption that it was her gun. When she truly looked into his eyes, she
saw that he was looking at her like a kid looked at a new puppy on
Christmas morning. If she acted like she had been taught, he would soon
be putty in her hands. She softened her eyes, moved instinctively and put
her hand to his face. Methos melted. As he kissed her, she moved the other
hand to his chest. She reached into his pocket and wrapped her fingers
around the handle of the gun. 

He yanked her hand away. Pulled the gun out, pointed it at her. "Is this
what you want?"

She cowered back, fully expecting him to use it. She hated to die, it hurt
too much. Every time she died, she always had the thought, in the back of
her mind, that she'd never wake up again, that her head would be taken
while she was vulnerably. That's what she and James needed Jason for.
And he wasn't there! She reached for the door handle to make a quick exit.
Methos cocked the gun and held it to her head. "Don't even think of
moving. If this is the only way I can get you to listen to me, fine."

Duncan came back with their bags, got into the front seat, saw the gun
trained on a frightened Angel. "Did I miss something?"

Methos instructed Duncan, "Drive." He pulled an earring off her lobe.
"Where'd you get this shit? More importantly, what did you have to do to
get it?" He took the other earring off, yanked the bracelet and necklace off.
Rolled down the window and threw them out. 

Duncan saw him do it, and whistled, the ruby that was so important to
Amanda was now lying on the side of the road, but there wasn't any way
he was stopping. She was livid. "Do you know how much those are
worth?!"

"What did you have to do for them?"

"None of your fucking business."

"That's how, huh? Fucking? I've been mourning you for a year and you've
been fucking for jewelry?"

"David..." Duncan yelled from the front. With the state she was in, if she
could get away from them, they could not tell her his name, she would
probably blab.

Methos yelled back, "Shut up!"

She slapped Methos across the face, yelling, "You don't know me! You
don't know a thing about me!"

He held her hand as she tried to wallop him again and shouted, "You're
wrong! I know everything about you." Methos pushed her back and
seethed. Fantasizing how he was going to pull James apart limb by limb as
Duncan drove them out of town. 

~~~~~

After an hour with Duncan driving quietly, she was still alive. She started
to get used to the thought of never having to work for James again. When
given lemons, make lemonade, she thought and groaned. Maybe she could
be her own boss and use the skills he had taught her and only work for
herself. It was a fantasy she had pictured for a long time, even tried it once,
even though she knew it was wrong. And, she'd paid the price, that's when
she realized there was a little something inside her that made it impossible
for her to leave James. She looked down at herself and felt her abdomen...
it had to be there somewhere. She couldn't do anything while it was still
inside of her.

Thinking that these two would have killed her already if they were going
to, she realized that she needed to put her trust in the two strangers. Since
David had put the gun away, they hadn't tried to kill her even though she
had shot them both. MacLeod, twice. There wasn't any retribution from
him, so she was thinking that maybe she was safe. Safe! That word crept
into her mind again, the unattainable goal of safety. She hadn't felt safe in
a very long time. She could never truly escape James until a certain deed
was taken care of. She finally asked, "Where are you taking me?"

Methos said, "To your daughter."

She asked incredulously, "What daughter?" She shook her head. "You're
convinced I'm someone else." When she spoke, her accent sounded odd to
both of them, because it didn't sound like it came from any particular
place. She continued, "But that doesn't matter. You have to do something
for me."

"What?"

She didn't want to verbalize it. But it had to be done. "I would prefer it if
Cameron James didn't know where I was. Do you agree?"

Methos said, "Obviously."

"He knows right this moment where I am."

"He can't possibly know," Methos said. He wasn't Superman. Duncan
didn't react to her comment, just looked at her through the rear view
mirror.

She said, "Maybe we can help each other. I've wanted to work on my own
for a very long time." She knew how to sting people and didn't like having
to answer to James, didn't like to be used by James or Jason or any of
them. Sitting there, she remembered some of what James had made her do.
The scum that he 'protected' her from, like Roberts. She had the crazy idea
that maybe he was the one to set up that trap in the first place. And Tony's
death. Could James have been behind that? Just because she 'misbehaved',
as he had put it?

Methos took her conversation as a good sign. But if she wanted to get
away from James, why hadn't she before? Duncan asked, "What do we
have to do?"

She solemnly asked, "Can I trust you? Really trust you?" Both men
nodded. "Do either of you know your anatomy, or is one of you a doctor,
by any chance?"

Methos grinned, "I was, once."

"I need a little exploratory surgery." She took a deep breath. "You have to
cut it out of me."

Methos freaked out, "What was that?!" he shouted, scaring her.

Duncan looked at her in the rear view mirror. Methos was clueless, having
been kept in the dark about a few things. Duncan asked, "An electrode?"

She turned her attention to Duncan then, he seemed to believe what she
was saying. "A homing beacon. I tried to get away once before. He found
me. It's somewhere inside me, I just don't know where."

"Bastard!" Methos yelled. His reaction surprised her, but she kept her eyes
trained on Duncan, who seemed to be taking it in stride, like he understood
what she was saying.

"I really hate dying," she weakly admitted, then continued with perfect
articulation, "but you have to cut me open and remove it. I can't do it
myself. I've tried to, but I can't do it. I can't cut myself."

Duncan immediately got off the interstate, on to a county road, then a
gravel road that lead them to a wooded area. Methos wassaying, "What are
you talking about? That's sick."

She agreed and continued, "I don't know how big it could be. I've felt for
it before. I don't think it's in my arms or legs..." Methos couldn't get over
her very proper accent or what she was saying. "It's in my chest or
abdomen, I don't know. Just... make sure I'm dead before you slice and
dice. Please... I don't want to feel it. And please..."

Methos asked, "What?"

She looked at David with a tear rolling down her face, and said, "Please
don't take my head. If you do this for me, I'll do whatever you want."

Both Methos and Duncan were speechless as he pulled the car to a stop.
She still wore only the dress and pantyhose and spikes, but she got out of
the car, on that cold night, and walked into the snow filled woods. Duncan
took the gun from a confused and unsuspecting Methos and shot her in the
back. "MacLeod!" Methos watched her flop face down on the ground
within range of the headlights of the car.

Duncan ignored him and hurriedly flipped her over and hiked up her dress.
Methos grabbed his hand, said, "This is crazy..."

Duncan flung Methos' hand away and quickly worked before she could
revive. He used his katana to slice her from chest to stomach. He felt under
her ribs and came out with an electronic bug. "It's where he put the last
one."

Methos was in another dimension. "The last one?" The electrode and
Duncan's shunning of Amanda were the only things they hadn't told
Methos about when they finally informed him of James' first kidnaping of
Elizabeth.

Duncan just nodded, "He must not have had the home unit with him, or
we're out of range for him to use it. It would have burned her insides."
Methos, still in another dimension, could only watch as Duncan searched
with his hand around under her ribs. He had been a surgeon, but this was
in the middle of a dark field, by the beam from a car's headlights, on his
wife! Duncan's hand came out with another device. "Ah, bingo." He gave
the homing beacon to Methos, who stared at it, shocked. Duncan ordered,
"Get rid of it." 

While Duncan repositioned Elizabeth's organs, Methos stood and threw
the homing beacon as far as he could. Hopefully a cow would eat it and
Cameron James' goons would hone in on it. Methos got back on his knees.
Together they held her skin closed and waited for her to revive. Methos
realized that the sight of her body sliced open was like the vision in his
dream. He had always thought it was meant to recreate his first wife's
death.

When she revived, the pain was intense, and she screamed as the healing
sparks sealed her skin. The heads of both men were in her view as she
collapsed back on the snow from the healing, they hadn't taken her head.
But Methos had taken her hand and she clutched at it while she healed.
Duncan took a shirt from his suitcase and wiped off some of the blood,
then pulled down her dress again. 

As soon as they got back in the car, Duncan peeled out and decided on
another route to the cabin in case James and his men were right behind
them. Methos was still in the back seat with her and noticed her shivering
from either cold, or from what she'd just allowed Duncan to do. She
started to feel nauseous, but chalked it up to her surgery, not anything else.
Methos unsheathed his Ivanhoe, startling her. "No... no." He laid it on the
front seat, then took off his coat to put it around her. 

She sadly but gratefully looked at Methos and said, "Thank you."

"Turn the heat up, MacLeod."

"No," she shook her head. "Thank you for not taking my head."

His mind was reeling, that she thought that was a possibility. Methos said,
"That is the furthest thing from our minds."

"That was what I was counting on."

When they got to another town, there was a 24-hour Walmart. Duncan
went in and bought sneakers, jeans, a sweater and a jacket for her. All the
while he was gone, there was silence in the car. She felt herself getting
weaker, but didn't make any connection between the effect of her recent
deaths and the lessening affect of the drug she'd become addicted to over
the last year. She thought she was just tired. 

Methos gave her every opportunity to take off. There was no gun pointed
at her. He sat on the other side of the back seat from her. He even stared
ahead, played with his wedding ring so she would think it was a good
opportunity to bolt, but she didn't. He was pleased, knew in his heart that
she wouldn't. He and MacLeod had passed her test and she must have
realized that she needed them.

Duncan came back with filled shopping bags and handed them to her in
the back seat. He peeled out, wanting to get to the cabin and as far away
from that bug as soon as possible. Methos opened one of the bags when
Duncan asked for the Road Atlas and handed it to him. Duncan decided on
I-94 instead of I-90, their original plan. Not that they had one carved in
stone, they would have liked to fly to Montana, but then would have to
rent a car and backtrack to the cabin. Driving would give them the
opportunity to talk to her and let her know that she wasn't in danger. The
drive would give her time to trust them, and not freak out, or worse,
escape.

Methos saw her wet hair glisten under passing lamp posts. She still
shivered from the cold. "You can change in here," he told her. She looked
at him, modesty. It killed Methos that he was still a stranger to her. She
had allowed them to cut her open, but didn't want them to see her undress.
Even though he lived for it and had undressed her so many times for their
mutual enjoyment, she had no recollection of it. He pulled his coat off her
and held it up to shield her from their eyes. She could see Duncan's eyes in
the rear view mirror. Only after he pushed the mirror towards the ceiling
did she change.

When her hand hit Methos on the side, he put the coat down. She was
slipping the parka on, pulled it around her tight. It was damn cold and
she'd never expected to be out in it. She should have been on a plane to
London after scamming Davenport. She should be sitting on a beach in
Tahiti in a few hours. She looked down at her body. "He wouldn't have
put more than one in me, would he?"

Duncan shrugged, "You'd know more than we would."

She dismissed it, "That would be overkill. Where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe," Methos told her.

She weakly laughed and moaned, "There is no such place."

CONTINUED in Chapter 24 - The Cabin

    Source: geocities.com/enyajo/elizabeth

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