THE ELIZABETH SERIES
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CONVENTION
By JoLayne
EnyaJo@aol.com
RATING: PG
CHARACTERS: M, Elizabeth, Claire, Guy, Amy, Joe, Caroline, Jim,
Terry, etc.
SUMMARY: Liz and Methos continue to solidify Daniel Gordon to her
Watcher.
~~~~~
MONDAY JANUARY 17, 2005
NEW YORK CITY
Guy watched from at a distance; Elizabeth and Daniel were in the Staten
Island Ferry Station. He assumed that they would be going to see the
Statue of Liberty, or Ellis Island, and was going to stay at the station and
wait for them to get back. But, you never knew. They were going all over
the city, and had checked out of the Colonial that morning, so they could
be almost anywhere by evening. Or, they could disembark from the ferry
on the island and not return. Elizabeth did have a way of losing her tails, if
the last few years were any indication, and Guy had already decided that
he would like to stay with his assignment for a while. And no, it wasn't
just because she had great looking legs.
"Audrey," Guy spoke softly into his microtape recorder while loitering on
the other side of the round, green and white tiled waiting room for the
ferry. "Liz is showing Dan all of New York. The way they've been acting
reminds me of teenagers. Young love... no matter how old you are, love is
love. I really don't think this Daniel Gordon is an immortal. Liz never
reacts to what would be a buzz when he comes near, but she does react to
him in a way that anyone watching would know that those two kids are in
love. Oh!"
The chattering in the room echoed as all the waiting passengers bided their
time, but suddenly a great wail arose, making most of the heads in the
room turn in the direction of little Claire. She had been skipping around
the bench that Elizabeth and Daniel were sitting upon, but tripped and
landed right on her knees. "Mama!" she cried out, her arms wide, her eyes
filled with tears.
Daniel was closer to her and lifted her up, but Claire wanted her mother.
Elizabeth took her and held her as Claire's muffled cries continued, her
head nuzzled into Elizabeth's neck. Guy clicked the recorder on again and
said, "If they weren't so busy kissing, they would watch that kid more
closely."
He saw Daniel and Elizabeth comforting the child and wished he could get
closer to them since their attention wasn't on him. He could overhear their
conversation, maybe their plans. Watching these two love birds awakened
the notion in Guy that he didn't have a dame of his own. If he knew where
they were going to be settling for the night, Guy could go out on the town,
starting at a decent hour. He was in the Big Apple, and he hadn't had a
change to meet any chicks. Well, that is before they got drunk. By the time
he arrived at a bar, all the pairing off had happened.
One thing Guy had seen was all the tourist traps, parks, museums even a
couple of movies. He wanted to make sure he knew the habits of his new
assignment well before letting her loose and making assumptions about
what she was doing. Their pattern was starting to emerge, but he still
wasn't comfortable enough to relax.
~~~~~
Claire's crying started to cease as she sat on Elizabeth's lap, looking at her
scraped knee along with her parents. "You're all right," Elizabeth said.
"You want to get a band-aid out of the bag?"
Methos reached down and fumbled through it. As he was hunched over,
she saw his back tighten, which could only mean one thing, there was
another immortal around. He was good at covering up his reaction for
anyone who might be watching, and Elizabeth still hadn't been able to
figure out which mortal was interested in them. She either kept losing her
tail, or he was really good. She reacted when the buzz sensation finally hit
her, and looked around the people in the room. Methos sat up and started
pulling the wrapping off the band-aid and put it on Claire's knee. He
leaned close to Elizabeth and whispered, "Who is it?"
"I don't--," she started, and then stopped. She saw a man at the entrance,
who was staring back at her.
"You don't, what?" Not having a sword of his own felt like he was
missing his right arm, but he had been portraying a mortal easily, until
now. They were cornered in that round waiting room, and there could be a
watcher in the midst of the people waiting for the ferry.
Elizabeth's eyes still scanned the crowd, then she smiled, relieved. All
they needed was to see an immortal who would have known Methos. But
it was someone who actually knew her. Methos asked, "What? Who is it?"
His eyes followed her gaze and saw a tall, blond man looking back at her.
The man by the door breathed his own sigh of relief and walked toward
them. "Hey, funny meeting you here."
Elizabeth smiled and said, "Jim? Was it?"
"Yes. I never did get your name, but I recognize this pretty little lady."
Claire pointed to her knee. "Got owie."
Methos was staring at Elizabeth, wondering who the hell this guy was, and
where she had met him before. Elizabeth took his look as a compliment.
Jealousy was so attractive on Methos. She stood with Claire in her arms
and said, "When we met before, I was a little... on edge. I'm Liz. This is
Claire."
"Nice to meet you, properly," Jim said, shaking her hand and smiling at
Claire.
Methos stood up and said, "I'm Daniel."
"Nice to meet you, Dan," Jim pleasantly said, offering his hand for a
shake.
Methos ignored it and said, "Daniel."
~~~~~
Guy clicked the recorder on again. "Whoa, Audrey. The guy's territorial
already. Some dude, an immortal, walked up to Liz, they must know each
other from someplace, and Dan just about pissed on him marking his
territory. The other immortal is tall, blond, short hair, can't tell the color of
his eyes, but I'll go to headquarters and look through the database. Liz
looks uneasy. Well, that's either because this other guy's immortal, or her
lover is acting like King of the Jungle."
The bell rang signaling the time to load the ferry, and Guy watched
Elizabeth bide adieu to the immortal. They talked for a while longer, and
then they all walked to the loading door. Guy laughed. "Hm. Liz and Dan
have company. I'll have to see who this fella is. Got a ferry to catch."
He just made it on board before they ferry pulled away. They didn't get off
to go to either Liberty or Ellis Island. They only stood by the rail getting
their picture taken as a family as the ferry slowly passed the Statue. It was
really the only time that Daniel had appreciated having the other man
there, to take the picture of Daniel, holding Elizabeth, as she held Claire.
As soon as the picture was taken, Daniel snatched the disposable camera
from the immortal and turned around, looking at the statue from the rail.
Elizabeth and the immortal said a few more words, then they really didn't
say anything to each other. The immortal went inside to get himself a glass
of soda while Daniel and Elizabeth stayed on the outside, even though it
was cold. Guy decided to see if he could find another tattooed person to
make his detective work a little easier and find out who the guy was.
It didn't take long. Guy could pick out the ladies. A spiky haired wisp of a
girl just sat on a row of benches with a newly purchased New York Daily
News in her lap; she had taken off her gloves to read it. The top of the
tattoo on her left wrist was visible to him. Guy walked over and
nonchalantly sat next to her. He noticed her eyes were keeping track of her
assignment, the immortal that Guy thought he should find out about. He
looked at her, as she read the front page, and wondered if that red hair was
natural. It was too brassy to be natural, but he didn't see any roots, even
being that close to her. Suddenly, she said, "Do you mind?"
Guy took off his gloves and let her see his tattooed wrist. "So," she said.
"Can you give me some room here?"
Guy chuckled, and moved over a bit. "You're in a mood, or were you born
that way?"
"I like to have my quiet time. Don't you?"
"Sure. But he can't be that much trouble," Guy said, tilting his head
toward the blond immortal still in line to get his Pepsi.
"He's the most boring immortal on earth," she said as she continued
reading. "But, he's active. He just doesn't do anything. And he gets lost all
the time. Good God, can't he ask for directions? Men."
Then her eyes followed her assignment as he took a seat on the other side
of the area, and looked out at the sea while sipping his beverage. "What's
his name?"
"Why?"
"He was talking with my assignment," Guy said. "I think they know each
other and I just want to be thorough."
"James Payson. Who's yours?"
"Liz Bennett."
"Who?"
"She went back to her maiden name, or actually the name of one of her
husbands from the 40s. She must have loved him. You might know of her
as Elizabeth Sommers," Guy said, with a little bit of pride at having the
assignment of the great Methos' widow.
"Liz Sommers?" The watcher was immediately interested. "Is she on this
ferry? I've never even seen her before."
"She's outside."
"Wow. What's she like?"
"Trying to find her way through it all. So, who's this James? What's his
story?"
"There's not much of one. He's a sculpture who lives in Phoenix. I was
looking forward to this trip, thinking he'd actually do something fun, but
he's only been to the art gallery that's showing his work and the hotel. He
loves his cable." Then she leaned closer to Guy and said, "And his porno."
"He can't be all that bad."
She shrugged, and looked through the windows for a glimpse of Methos'
widow. "Were you assigned to her when Methos was alive?"
"I don't answer anymore questions until you answer one for me," Guy
said, very serious.
"What?"
"Your name."
She smiled. "Theresa, but everyone calls me Terry. And you are?"
"Guy. The guy for you..."
She lost her smile and shook her head. She slapped the paper onto his
chest and stood. "Calm down, killer. I'm going to take a look at Liz
Sommers."
"She's Liz Bennett now."
"Whatever."
Guy watched her walk away; her butt wasn't that great anyway. He looked
at James Payson sitting by the window, looking out as if in a trance. He
wasn't even looking out the side of the ferry that had anything to see. All
he was staring at was wide open sea. What a loser, Guy thought and
opened the paper. Then felt a cold breeze as someone opened the door.
Guy looked up to see James walk outside to the rail. He stood still with his
bare hands on the cold rail and stared out at the ocean. This didn't feel
right at all. Guy could read people. He looked to see if Terry was seeing
this. Then there were screams. He looked back in time to see James' coat
disappear over the edge. "Hey!" Guy yelled. "Man overboard!"
The place erupted with activity; shouts and people running to the rail to
look overboard. The ferry's whistles and sirens started and the ferry came
to a slow stop. "There he is!" a woman in the midst of the crowd at the
side of the ferry yell and point with her finger. Guy ran outside and down
the line from where the others were, he saw someone else climb up on the
rail and jump off. He saw Daniel trying to stop her then slap his hand
against the rail. Guy nudged his way to the rail and looked down at the
water. Suddenly, Terry was by his side. "He jumped over the side? That
maniac!"
"A boring maniac," Guy said. "Just what a watcher wants."
They watched as the crew threw life savors and ropes to Elizabeth as she
came to the surface of the choppy waves, with James in her arms. A crew
member jumped out to help get them both to the ferry. Another crew
member jumped in also. The four heads appeared at the edge and into the
ferry below.
Guy and Terry rushed to the stairs. Then, realizing that Daniel and Claire
were right next to them, Guy grabbed Terry and held her back from
following. "I should see if he's all right. I mean, I know he'll be all right,
but ... what the hell did he do that for?!"
"We can't right now. Just wait."
"Why not? Aren't you worried about Liz?"
"No. They're immortal, Terry. They're cold, but they'll be all right, and it
might be tight quarters down there and we'll be spotted." She struggled for
him to release her, but he held onto her arm tight. "Wait until we dock."
Her face was completely froze with worry. "What gives?"
"He's my husband," Terry said.
"You're what?"
"He's my husband. All right? He's my husband!"
"But you said--," Guy said, pointing at the bench they had sat on.
"I know what I said. I don't know you from Adam. What did you expect
me to say? He's my husband and I'm going down there. Let me go!"
~~~~~
Elizabeth was huddled under a blanket alongside a bed that James was
laying on, three blankets on top of him. Daniel was let into the room and
he and Claire hugged Elizabeth as soon as she stood up. James, in and out
of consciousness, thought he felt a buzz, but looked up to see Elizabeth
there hugging her lover. It must have been her, he thought as he drifted
back to sleep, embarrassed by what he had done.
"What in the hell were you thinking?" Methos asked as he hugged her.
Claire yelled, "Mama!" and clung to her when Elizabeth took her and
wrapped her in the blanket with her.
"I'm sorry I scared you. I wanted to go for a swim, that's all. Mama's all
right."
They sat in the corner, away from James and the nurse tending him.
Methos whispered, "I don't know what I'm going to do with you. Do you
take in strays too?"
"I have you, don't I?" she said, kissing him. He giggled as he kissed her
back, Claire stuck in the middle.
The door burst open and Terry charged in. "Where is he?"
The nurse said, "He needs peace and quiet. Who are you?"
"I'm his wife, get out of my way, lady!"
Terry rushed to James' side and poked him to wake him up. "What the
fuck did you do that for?!"
"Sorry, babe." He closed his eyes again, and a tear slipped down his cheek.
Terry wiped it off and kissed him. "It's all right."
"Chester Arthur gave my show a bad review. Didn't you read the paper?"
"No, you jumped off the side before I could. Chester Arthur doesn't know
dick. Another gallery will show your work and another reviewer will
come--."
James sat up. "It doesn't work like that. This was going to be my big shot.
I've been piddling around with small galleries for too long. This was my
big chance!"
Terry sat beside him and wrapped her arms around him. "Sh. You'll have
more chances. You're new to this. Maybe you have to practice more. I told
you that dogs shouldn't have three ears."
They laughed. "It's modern. You don't understand."
"No. I don't. But I'm willing to be your model for nudes again."
James kissed her and said, "Renaissance art. You want me to go back to
renaissance?"
"I love your paintings. Jacques Rouleau. I love his work."
"But I killed him," James whispered in her ear.
"Maybe it's time to revive him."
"I like modern art," James defiantly said.
"Your modern art sucks!"
They laughed again.
Methos and Elizabeth were trying not to overhear, but of course couldn't
help it. Methos had seen Rouleau paintings, had owned one. It was one of
the items he had bestowed on the London Gallery of Art. That was him?
Then he saw it. The watcher tattoo on Terry's wrist. Methos shook his
head. Problems. They're going to have nothing but problems... One can't
ride that swing. But Terry looked quite young. She didn't even know what
was ahead of her yet.
The nurse left the room, and the immortal and his woman were busy, so
Methos turned to Elizabeth and asked, "Have you been making it a habit
of jumping into ice cold water while I've been away?"
"No. It just happened. I knew that if anyone on the ferry could help, it
would be me." She whispered, "I can't stay dead for long."
Methos wasn't amused. "That's a good way to call attention to yourself."
"I didn't know who jumped in. It could have been a kid, a baby."
The ferry came to a stop and James and Terry stood and made their way to
the door. Methos held Elizabeth again and whispered, "I love you wet, but
please. Not in public." He swept his hand across her head, and cold wet
hair and said, "To a hotel with you. A nice hot bath is in your future."
"Not alone, I hope."
"You ask for so much." He laughed as he helped her to her feet and took
Claire, who had fallen asleep in her mother's arms.
As soon as James opened the door, a uniformed policeman walked in.
"Okay, who's Greg Louganis. We don't take too kindly ta folks who want
a mid-day swim."
James said, "It was me, officer. I don't know what I was thinking."
"Me, neither," the cop said. "We'll have to take you down to the station
and have a little talk. Then maybe to Bellevue with you, to get your head
examined."
"His head is fine," Terry said, not letting James go, even after another cop
entered the room and took his other arm.
"Standard procedure, Miss." he said as he wrote out the ticket, and some
notes for the report he'd have to file.
Methos nudged Elizabeth toward the door. The cop said, pointing his pen
at Elizabeth, "You. Who are you? Janet Evans?"
"No. Just a concerned citizen," Elizabeth said. "You would have done the
same thing, correct, officer?"
"Probably not." He smiled at her and nodded for them to go.
Elizabeth and Methos, holding Claire, who was just waking up, got
through the station. Before they went outside, Methos took off his leather
jacket and put it over Elizabeth's shoulders. "You're such a gentleman.
Thank you."
They got into a cab. The cabbie looked at Elizabeth's wet hair and clothes,
and asked, "Where to?"
Elizabeth gave him Amy's address, then asked, "Can you turn the heat up,
please?"
Methos said, "We've got to get out of this city."
"Why? It's nice to be close to Amy."
"We ran into more cops today. What if they had been the same ones who
investigated Kevin's murder?"
"Those were detectives. Those today were beat cops."
"You want to introduce yourself to every cop in the city? And you still
haven't explained where you met that nut case."
"We have a lot of catching up to do. I like to leave a little mystery."
~~~~~
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 19, 2005
Guy was outside Carmine's Italian Ristorante and couldn't be more
hungry. He figured that Elizabeth and Daniel would be eating a leisurely
meal, they were going to be free this evening. Earlier they had dropped
Claire off at an apartment on the West Side, though Guy didn't know
who's it was. One more thing he'd have to research when he was finally
comfortable enough to lose Elizabeth for a while. If she would only follow
a pattern!
The aromas wafting out from the kitchen were heavenly and Guy realized
that he hadn't eaten since he grabbed a hot dog at 9 that morning. It had
probably been left over from last summer. If he were to wait too long,
Carmine's would be packed. Guy walked in and asked for a table for one,
ignoring the looks of sympathy from the staff. He was going to tell them
that he was working, but then again, who gave a damn what they thought?
He noticed Elizabeth and Daniel in a round corner booth, holding hands,
looking at no one but each other Guy looked at the table he was led to and
pointed at a different one, which would put a pillar between his and
Elizabeth's table, so he couldn't be quickly spotted watching them. The
hostess said, "That's a table for four."
"So?"
"You asked for a table for one."
Guy didn't want to make a scene, but wondered why Elizabeth and Daniel
got one of the large round booths for the two of them, and he can't use a
lousy table for four, alone? "Fine, how about that one?"
"What's wrong with the first table?"
"This is New York, all right. No hospitality. You want a tip? Gimme that
table," he said, pointing to the other two-seat table. There was a fake tree
that Guy pointed to and asked, "Can you quietly move that tree a little to
the right for me, don't make a fuss, just do something nice for a stranger
who will be tipping according to the services rendered this evening?"
"I'm not your waitress, sir. I'm the hostess."
"I was a waiter. You all share. Come on. Help me out here."
"Fine." She did, and when she bent over, Guy was quick to check out her
rear end. Not bad... if only she wasn't so brusque. He sat at the table and
opened the menu. It all looked so good, he was going to order one of
everything. Then, he forgot all about food. He had felt the cold breeze as
the outside door opened and in walked Joe Dawson with a woman Guy
knew to be his wife, Caroline. Then, the most beautiful woman Guy had
ever seen in his life appeared. Sure, he'd seen pictures of Amy Dawson,
and had seen her having lunch with Elizabeth, but now, he was only about
two feet from her, only a half wall separating them. She was all gussied up
and looked hot. Dark blue sheath, makeup, but not too much. Guy didn't
like a painted face, preferred natural beauty. Her round eyes were made
even more so with the eyeshadow. Her eyelashes looked long enough for
him to reach out and touch them. Her shoulder-length hair looked good
enough to run his hands through. Poofy, but not stiff. Guy hated stiff hair.
Guy was struck mute as his eyes followed Amy to Elizabeth's table. He
leaned over the half wall to spy her legs. Fish net stockings! God love her,
Guy thought. Fish net stockings... He looked to the door, then to their
table. Where was her date? The waitress had come to their table and it
didn't look like there was room for another person in the booth. They
ordered drinks. Guy was excited that Amy didn't have a man, but then was
surprised. She doesn't have a man? That just wasn't fair for mankind. A
dame like that should have a guy. Like this Guy, he sat musing, as his
waiter walked to his table.
He ignored him for a moment as he watched Elizabeth introduce Daniel to
the others. Well, she had taken the first step. Guy now knew that Daniel
was definitely part of the picture. Elizabeth was bringing him into her fold,
to the people who Guy had determined were the most important in her life.
Duncan MacLeod and Amanda Montrose were also members of their clan
and he wondered if they would be appearing in the city. He was friends
with one of Amanda's watchers. She was one immortal who kept a
watcher on his toes. He'd asked for reassignment back in '84 when she
broke into the Louvre. The Paris police interrogated him for three days
after Amanda had escaped, and Martin was stuck behind.
When Joe, Caroline and Amy arrived at Elizabeth and Methos' table,
Elizabeth introduced them to 'Daniel'. Joe shook his hand and said,
"Hello, Dan. Nice to meet you."
To which Methos had said, "Daniel, Joe. My name is Daniel."
But Guy didn't hear any of it. He had been too busy staring at Amy. Her
back was amazing in the low-cut dress. He couldn't believe that a dame as
hot as her didn't have guys falling all over her. Then a terrible thought
occurred to him. Maybe Amy was gay. He took a sip of his red wine and
dismissed that. God wouldn't be so ironic as to put a great looking lady
like that on earth who would only look at women. No, he wouldn't be that
mean. He ordered linguine and clam sauce and hurried to eat it so he could
find a good viewing place when Elizabeth left the restaurant.
Guy hung out on the corner when they emerged. He could hear their
conversation. Elizabeth said that they were checking into the Piedmont
and that they should all come for a night cap. Amy told her, "I'm tired and
ate too much. I'm just going to pick up Joey and go home to bed."
Guy was let down. He was hoping that not only wasn't Amy a lesbian, but
that she was available. Sure, figured. A woman like that would have a
lover. But then, his need to check this Joey out overtook his need to be
thorough in his work.
Amy asked, "Should I take Claire home with me? You can pick her up in
the morning."
"That would be great!" Elizabeth exclaimed, but then asked, "She hasn't
been too much trouble at night, has she? It's been so weird leaving her
alone overnight."
"She's not alone. She's with me," Amy said. "And she's been a dream.
She gets a little anxious in the morning when you aren't there, but I'm sure
she's already asleep. If she needs to see you, I'll give you a ring."
Elizabeth hugged Amy and said something to her that Guy couldn't hear.
He wondered why, if Amy was going home with a guy, she would take
their child. Because Amy wasn't in a new relationship, like Elizabeth was?
He was completely out of sink with what was going on, but one thing was
certain. He was going to be following Amy that evening. He needed to
find out what kind of dude made her knees weak. Guy smiled as he lagged
behind her as she walked down the sidewalk, after biding goodnight to her
friend and her lover, with her father and step-mother.
Guy followed them for three blocks to the apartment building where
Elizabeth had dropped off Claire. Amy said good evening to Joe and his
wife and then rushed inside. As he waited, for her to reemerge, a cab
arrived at the curb and honked. Guy moved back into the trees. Amy came
out of the building holding a sleeping Claire in one arm, and holding the
hand of a little boy. "I forgot my book, Mom," the kid said, getting ready
to turn and go back inside.
Amy took hold of his hand again and said, "We'll get it tomorrow. Come
on, it's cold and Claire's sleeping."
"But I want to read it!"
"Joey! You can read it tomorrow while Mom goes to work. Come on. It's
past your bedtime."
Guy leaned back against the tree trunk and smiled. As Amy got the kids
into the cab and it drove off, he laughed. "Yes," he said, almost high-
fiving himself.
He pulled the tape recorder from his pocket and said into it, "Audrey, do a
check of Watcher Amy Dawson in the database." He stopped the recorder
and took out the tape. He put it into an envelop and sealed it, then walked
down the street. When he reached a mailbox, he popped the envelop in and
walked to the Piedmont.
~~~~~
FRIDAY FEBRUARY 4, 2005
MARRIOT HOTEL
DETROIT
Watcher conventions are held four times a year so they zigzag and all
immortals are covered during that time. As soon as Guy entered the grand
meeting hall at the end of a secured hallway of the hotel, he saw the
impressive display announcing the biggest news to hit the world of
Watchers and Immortals in centuries. The oldest Immortal, Methos, had
been taken. There were banners that ran the length of ceiling to floor,
spelling out Methos, on each side of the lighted display case, that held
Methos' Ivanhoe. On either side of the room were the only pictures that
the watchers had of the really old guy, an official watchers photograph and
a grainy surveillance photograph. Both Guy had seen in the database while
researching Elizabeth after taking over her case. He walked by the 'Adam
Pierson' portrait that had been blown up to at least ten by four feet to the
open bar and ordered a whiskey coke. The bartender said, "Only beer at
this convention."
"Beer? Is this a cash bar?"
"No. All drinks are on the house."
Guy said, "Well then, I want a drink. I don't want a beer. If I want beer,
I'll go to the discount liquor barn."
"Methos always drank beer."
"So?"
"It's in reverence of his memory."
Guy sighed. He leaned over the bar but didn't see any stash. "What kind of
beer you got?"
The bartender smiled. "We have all the best brands from all over the
world. Kirin, San Miguel, Warsteiner, Kingfisher, Labatt Blue, Old
Speckled Hen, Kwak, Gouden Carolus, 1837, Trois Pistoles, Blanche De
Chambly, La Gaillarde, Raftman, Eau Benite,..."
Guy wasn't a big beer drinker and had heard enough. "You got a Bud?"
"No, sir," the bartender looked deflated. "They went first."
"I'll have a..." Guy thought about the most obscure, but tasty beer he'd
ever tasted. It was one that a girlfriend in college preferred. To make it
even better, it was one of the most expensive beers Guy had ever seen. "3
Monts."
"Yes, sir," the bartender said and moved behind him to the cooler. Guy
looked around to scan the crowd and then felt something at his elbow. He
saw a tray with a chilled, stemmed glass and a beer bottle with a
corkscrew. The bartender had snipped the wire covering the cork and said,
"Enjoy."
Guy looked at the dark beer bottle that looked like champagne. He moved
the tray to the side and used the corkscrew. As soon as the cork popped
out, Guy could almost smell freshly baked bread. When he poured the beer
into a glass, he did admire it's yellow color and thick head. He took a sip
and from that moment on, he had a favorite beer. Funny how much better
it tasted when you're not sitting with a bitch, he thought, smiling. He
poured the entire bottle into the glass and meandered through the room.
The next honorary display was about Roger Horne, the man acknowledged
to hold the essence of the great Methos. Even though the watchers didn't
quite understand what quickenings consist of, Horne should be watched.
Watched he was. He know had three watchers on him full time. His entire
bio was on display, but there wasn't anything Guy hadn't read before
while researching anything and everything he could find on Elizabeth.
The last great display consisted of a massive amount of placards, artifacts
under glass, and pictures of Carlos. He was a 4400 year old immortal, and
now the oldest known in existence. There were large colored maps
detailing the routes he had taken in the last fifty years. Guy was surprised
to find out that the great Carlos, warrior over the course of millennia was
now a hermit who lived in a self-made cabin on holy ground in Italy. There
were no current photographs of him, as he had built thickets around his
property and would flee as soon as anyone got too far onto his property.
There was another portrait, in a gold frame. It was of Norman Foster, who
was now the most important field watcher, since he heads the Carlos
Chronicle.
Guy sipped his French beer and leaned against a pillar looking at Foster's
portrait. Then he heard a commotion to his right and saw that the man
himself was walking toward him. Guy estimated that he was at least six
inches taller than him, as well as ten years younger. Guy chuckled in
amusement, with a touch of disgust, at the fawning female watchers giving
Foster attention. Then as he looked at the female groupies, he wished that
he had been given Elizabeth just a year sooner, and he could have
chronicled Methos, and had those dames lauding over him.
~~~~~
When Amy registered at the convention, she was handed an information
packet on all the classes available, some required mandatory attendance,
and she was handed a name tag to wear during the weekend. It had a name
with title below it. She shoved the packet into her bag and pinned on the
name tag that read AMY RANDALL, Antiquities Researcher, New York
City, USA. She saw her father across the lobby and went to him, giving
him a kiss on the cheek. "How was the concert last night, Dad?"
"I rocked the house, daughter of mine," Joe said.
She noticed that he wasn't wearing his name tag, a tag that she assumed
might read JOE DAWSON, Legend. Everyone knew who Joe was now
and Amy was so relieved to find that there hadn't been any repercussions
for breaking two watchers oaths: Being friends with an immortal, and
falsifying chronicles. The fact that Joe hadn't actually interfered with the
natural outcome of immortal fights, and since he had been taken prisoner,
which had been the watchers fault after all, gave Joe the opportunity to
state his case to the tribunal and come out smelling like a rose.
"Is he here?" Joe asked, nodding to various people who said hello.
"I just got here."
"What took you so long, and why did you miss my performance last
night?"
"Joey has the mumps. I was going to stay home with him, now, but I need
to check out this Guy person. I'm flying home tomorrow."
"Better sit in on some classes while you're here, or you're just going to
have to endure another one of these in a couple of months."
"I know. I have two mandatory ones: Watcher Oath Inspection and Proper
Cataloguing Procedures." Then she said sing-song, "Booooring."
Joe laughed and said, "The Watchers are under new management, Aaron
Cortland, and I like him."
"Why? Because he didn't have you shot on sight because of the Methos
Chronicle?"
"Well, that's one reason. But because he's really going to make a
difference. The watchers don't have to act like they have a bug up their ass
anymore."
He escorted Amy toward the secured hallway and she laid her bag on the
X Ray machine. When she saw the screen as she walked through the metal
detector, she cringed when she noticed the form of a beanie baby in her
bag. She had bought the Detroit Tiger mascot at the airport gift shop. She
went to snatch up her bag as the male guard smiled. "It's my son's and I
miss him, okay? Besides, they're valuable."
"Whatever, lady," the man said, chuckling.
She turned to Joe who had just walked around the gate and was being
scanned with a wand. "They are," she told him. "They stopped making
them years ago."
"Why are they still on the shelves then?"
"Be quiet. I like them."
They walked down the hall and into the great room meeting area and
stopped, stunned. The first thing they saw was a huge photograph of
Methos, or rather 'Adam Pierson'. Then Joe saw the grainy photograph he
had snapped one day; the only one that he had given to the watchers
because his face was almost indistinguishable. But they had manipulated it
to try and make it clearer. Joe paused and took in the site. There was no
way that both photographs looked like the same man, and in fact, neither
looked like the Daniel Gordon they had dinner with when they were
formally introduced; a precaution in case Guy Barstow was watching.
Amy told Joe, "Time to put my investigative skills to good use."
"For what?"
"I'm going to see if Guy Barstow is here."
"Look at the name tag."
"I didn't say it would be difficult." She laughed and walked into the mix of
people. Joe stood with his cane in both his hands, staring at the two faces
of his old friend. Then, when people moved ahead of him, he saw the
display case that had been in the Paris Headquarters. He walked toward it
and when there was an opening, he walked to the side of the case and
stared down at the sword of Methos. He noticed the other watchers
looking at it with reverence, until some ass said, "Wonder how many
heads he sliced with that thing."
"Only as many as he needed to," Joe told him, staring him down.
"Mr. Dawson," the man said, immediately sorry. "It's just so
overwhelming."
"Yes. Methos was. But he was a person. He wasn't a fighting machine. He
didn't take heads out of spite or ego. He only took them to survive."
Joe felt hot under the collar, and a little bit amused that this ruse was
working so well. Joe still honestly felt that he needed to explain Methos to
everyone, but he was glad that the man was actually living his life; loving
his life. Before Methos, Elizabeth and Claire had left New York, Methos
and Joe had a covert meeting where they were able to properly talk. All of
Joe's meetings with Methos in last 10 years, since Methos had made his
name known to a chosen few around him, had gone through Joe's head
many times when he believed that the old guy had really bought the farm.
Each meeting with him from then on was treasured. When he thought back
to their last meeting, at the top of the Empire State Building, without
Elizabeth around, to ensure Guy wasn't either, Methos had been so free
and easy. Joe could tell that he was walking on air. He thought it just
possible that if Methos stepped off the ledge, he would have floated. Joe
had never seen him so happy.
Of course he had to berate him for making Joe think he was dead, but
Methos was properly sorry and when he said, "I didn't know I was so
good," Joe laughed. All past mistakes and sadness had melted away. When
they parted in the art deco lobby, Joe had made sure that Methos would
keep in touch. Methos had told him, "My woman thinks of you as a father,
Joe. I think we'll be seeing each other."
It had been over two weeks since Joe or Amy had heard from Elizabeth
and Methos, and he worried. Not that Joe worried that either would lose
their head; he worried because they might fall back into a pattern of
forgetting that they have family who love them, want to see them, talk to
them, laugh with them.
Amy was across the room looking at the Carlos exhibit, and Joe spotted a
tall man walk over and then stop to stand next to her. Joe chuckled,
knowing what Guy looked like. His daughter was good. She got him to
come to her. Then a thought troubled him. From the back, Guy Barstow
looked like a dark haired Kevin Randall.
~~~~~
"The oldest one now," Guy said, looking at the map of Carlos' travels, but
his attention was on the woman standing next to him. As soon as she
walked in he had seen her and was knocked out once again by her natural
beauty.
"Yes," Amy said, looking at him, at his name tag. "It's amazing. To live so
long."
He looked at her name tag, and was confused. Amy Randall? He said,
"You're Joe Dawson's daughter, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am," she proudly said. "Nice to meet you, Guy Barstow, Field
Watcher," she pleasantly said, indicating his name tag.
Guy was confused. Had she gotten married since he saw her in New York?
Did the woman of his dreams get snatched by another guy? But she wasn't
wearing a ring. "My pleasure, ma'am. What's the Randall for?"
"It's my married name."
"Oh. You're married," he said, not letting his disappointment show, at
least he hoped not.
"Widowed."
The way she looked at him changed. At first, he was certain she was as
attracted to him as he was to her, but now her face darkened. "I'm sorry to
hear that. What happened? You're so young. Cancer?"
Amy was confused. He should have read all about her husband's murder if
he was indeed Elizabeth's watcher. Or maybe it wasn't reported in her
chronicle because she really didn't have anything to do with it. Amy
hadn't read her whole chronicle for fear that she would have to read the
gory details, from the cold perspective of someone who never knew her
husband. "No. He was murdered," she said.
"Man. That's a tough one. Did they catch him?"
"Her."
He was going to ask another question, but she stopped him. "Can we stop
talking now?" She caught sight of his vivid blue eyes when she looked at
him sharply and felt dazed. She hoped that she would be able to do this for
Elizabeth's sake, but bringing up Kevin, after she had made great strides
since April 30th to move on with her life, had given her pause. She walked
away and found herself at the Ivanhoe case. She still couldn't really
comprehend that David Sommers, the man who walked her down the aisle
at her wedding, Adam Pierson, the man who grudgingly saved her life
from Morgan Walker, the man who her best friend loved with her entire
being, was THE Methos.
Guy had followed her. "I'm sorry I brought it up, Amy. Shall we start
again?"
Amy smiled. "Sure. I'm Amy Randall. And you are?"
"Guy Barstow."
They shook hands and smiled. She was really taken by his striking baby
blue eyes. They looked to be an open window to his soul. And his smile
wasn't bad either. "I see you're a field watcher. Who do you watch?" she
asked, knowing the answer.
"Elizabeth Bennett."
"Oh," she said, knowing that he knew that she was friends with her.
"Well," she said, sighing. "That's... uncomfortable."
"You're friends with her."
"Before I knew what she was. Yes. Best friends."
Guy nodded. She said, "So, you've seen me with her."
"Yes."
"And you don't know I'm a widow."
"I was just assigned to her. I've only seen you around." He chuckled. "I'm
not bugging her or anything. I'm not privy to your conversations."
"But you'd like to be," she pointedly said. "Well, that changes things." She
decided to take off; taking the position of being put out, as any normal
person might in this situation if they didn't already know so much about
him.
"What? Changes what?"
"I can talk to you. I can't be friends with you. I'm friends with your
assignment."
"Hold the phone, Amy. Why not?"
"Is that why you started talking to me in the first place? Because you know
I'm friends with Liz and you want information, or something, I'd hate to
think what?"
"No. Come on, Amy. You're a good loo--." Guy stopped before saying
looking dame. He said, "I saw you, and I do think you're attractive, and
I'm being friendly at an unbearably boring convention. If there's
something wrong with that, sue me." He pointed at an elderly woman by
the bar and said, "If I thought she was hot, I'd be talking to her right now."
Amy couldn't help but burst out laughing and shake her head good
naturedly. "That's more like it," Guy said. "You're beautiful when you
smile."
"You say that to all the girls?"
"No, just the ones who are beautiful when they smile."
She knew she was blushing and looked down at Methos' sword. Guy
asked her, "Did you know him well?"
"I knew him, but I didn't know who he was until after he was taken and
my father told me."
"How could you not have known who he was?"
Amy saw other watchers eavesdropping and she walked away. Guy
followed. She told him, "He was very secretive. He didn't tell everyone he
knew who he was, in order to survive, and I didn't know. You expected
me to just out of the blue come up with, 'Say, aren't you the legendary,
thought to be fictitious, Methos?' Yeah, right."
"But you're friends with Liz. She didn't--?"
"We don't talk about immortality or the watchers and she never told me. It
didn't matter anyway."
"What do you mean?"
"I know him as Adam, and I knew him as David. I liked him. I miss him.
So does Liz. What difference would it make if I knew he was Methos?"
"Just think of the conversations you could have had with him."
She chuckled. "He wouldn't have talked about anything with me. He was
private. As my father said, 'He was just a guy who was trying to survive.'
Too bad he didn't make it."
They looked up at the maps that lined the wall. All the places Methos had
traveled in various centuries, starting with the Bronze Age. There wasn't
any indication anywhere in the exhibit that he was one of the Four
Horsemen, as Amy had come to learn. Yes, conversations indeed. Amy
was glad not to have known about that; she saw what Elizabeth, Duncan,
Amanda, and her father had gone through when it had all come to light.
The last map had Seacouver, Paris, Lisbon, London, and Sintra
prominently pointed out. Amy was almost jealous that she had never seen
Elizabeth and Methos' house in Sintra; Elizabeth had loved it so.
To change the subject because Amy looked so down, Guy asked, "So,
what classes did you sign up for?"
"Only the ones I had to," Amy said, relieved that the subject was changed.
Guy laughed. "Me too! What a waste. It's ridiculous. But, we can't remain
watchers without those boring classes. My office is the world. I don't have
to scrub up. I love it."
"Scrub up?"
"Yes, I was an anesthesiologist in my past life."
She suddenly remembered that from his bio. She was so intent on his
current position, that the information just slipped her mind. "That must
have been interesting."
"No. Not as interesting as what I'm doing now. I only went into medicine
because I come from a long line of doctors."
"I come from a line of watchers."
Guy looked over at Joe, who had been watching them from the bar area
and waved. "He's a good man. So I've heard. I've never had the pleasure
of meeting him."
"It would be my pleasure to introduce you," Amy said, taking his hand.
The moment she touched him, she felt hot. When he grasped her hand
tighter, she felt hotter. She fanned herself with a pamphlet as she walked
Guy to her father, who smiled pleasantly. "Dad, this is Guy Barstow. Guy,
this is my father, Joseph Dawson."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." When Guy's hand met Amy's father's, it
was as if he was sixteen years old again, meeting the father of a date. Guy
had the strange impulse to say, 'I'll have her home before eleven, sir,' but
laughed. He would only be so lucky.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Joe," he said warmly. Joe looked at Amy, who only had eyes for Guy.
Joe was worried that Amy had stepped into something to soon after Kevin.
Joe told Guy, "I'd like to talk to my daughter alone, if you don't mind."
"No problem," Guy said, and backed away. "I'll be over there, Amy, if you
wish to continue our conversation."
"All right." She smiled at him as he left and Joe took her arm, leading her
to a quiet corner. "Are you doing this just to help Liz?
"Doing what?"
"Looking at her watcher like that. You were only going to find out what he
looks like, so you can clue Liz in. What are you doing talking to him,
introducing him to me?"
"We just started talking, dad, and it would have been rude to snub him. Is
that what you would have preferred I do?"
"But it hasn't even been a year since Kevin..."
"It's been nine months and four days, Dad. I know. Should I just check
into a convent now?"
"You should give yourself at least a year to--."
"To what? Go to bed with a guy? Guy? Is that what you think? How could
you think that?"
"I see how you look at him."
"A year. Is that the mandatory length of time? I'll mourn Kevin the rest of
my life dad. And I don't know why we're having this conversation
anyway. I'm not interested in Guy Barstow."
Joe smiled. "Uh huh."
"Dad," she said in warning.
He patted her back. "I know you'll think with your head, and not another
part of your... you know."
"Dad!"
"Just be careful." He kissed her cheek. "I love you and want only the best
for you and I don't want you to get hurt."
"I won't. He's just a guy. Another watcher at this convention." They
scanned the room again. She saw Guy walk out to the hallway. A look of
determined interested speckled her face. She wanted to follow him. Joe
knew it. He rubbed her shoulder and said, "Just be careful with what you
say and what you do."
"Don't I always?"
~~~~~
"I knew it had to be somebody. It might as well be you," Amy said, taking
the last sip of her mai tai in the hotel's bar. She and Guy had met up in the
hallway and had dinner in the restaurant, not at the banquet affair catered
by the watchers. Guy was nursing his fourth 3 Monts. "Deal is, I'm going
to be straight with you. If or when we ever see each other again, I will not
compromise Liz to you and will not compromise the watchers to her. I'm
Switzerland."
"That may be an extremely hard thing to accomplish."
Amy shrugged. "If I can't manage it, I'll quit the watchers. I know my oath
and just being friends with an immortal, which started long before I knew
what she was, wouldn't compromise it. I already had this conversation
with the Tribunal, and they've allowed me to continue our friendship."
"It was a good thing your father was on the panel."
"He wasn't."
"It was a joke." Guy sat forward at the table and said, "You're a happening
lady. You have a good head on her shoulders. You can do anything you
want. Why be a watcher when it causes difficulties?"
"It doesn't, as long as I stick with my plans."
"Which are?"
"Be friends with Liz and catalogue Ikimoto's possessions."
"But, you could work for any museum."
"The watchers pay well."
"That they do."
They laughed and allowed a lapse in the easy conversation that had gone
on all evening. Guy pointed to the name tag that she still wore and smiled.
"Diane Wentworth, who I inherited Elizabeth from, wasn't very thorough.
I didn't even know what your name was. You were only Amy in the
chronicle. Since you're well known as Joe Dawson's daughter, I've been
thinking of you as Amy Dawson."
"I've never been Amy Dawson. My maiden name is Thomas. I am the
result of an affair."
"Interesting."
The smile on his face confused her. Was he thinking about Joe having an
affair, or thinking about affairs in general. With how close they'd been
since meeting at the convention, there was a definite attraction. Joe's
words of wisdom floated in her head again, but she couldn't help but think
that Guy was a bundle of energy that she wanted to experience. She
blushed as she finished her drink and picked up her bag.
"It's about that time," Amy said. "I'd like to get back to my room and call
to see how my son is doing. He has the mumps. I probably shouldn't have
even come, but it's mandatory, you know."
Guy only stared at her with those blazing baby blue eyes. She couldn't
look at him. "Will you be taking Watcher Oath Inspection by chance?"
"Why?"
"I'll probably see you there."
"You want to see me again?"
"I was being sociable. I'm trying to say goodnight."
"You don't have to."
She paused, looking at him, he was leaning forward with his elbows on the
table. Suddenly, she pictured herself in his arms. The feeling was too
powerful to dismiss and she started looking through her bag. For what?
She had no clue, but it was something to do because she couldn't look at
him, or stand up.
His hand covered hers as she held onto her bag for dear life. "Amy, I don't
want to say good night just yet."
"I should call home."
"Go ahead, you should. But I won't make any noise while you make that
call."
She closed her eyes and felt his hand on hers. She took deep breaths, it
hadn't been that long since Kevin was taken from her and this was the first
time she had been so taken with a man. She turned her hand in his and
then quietly said, "You promise?"
"I can be as quiet as a mouse," Guy said, then he smiled a winning smile.
"I'm a watcher."
Continued...
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