THE ELIZABETH SERIES

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

FACE OFF

by JoLayne
EnyaJo@aol.com

RATING: PG-13

CHARACTERS: Methos, Duncan MacLeod, Amanda, Elizabeth, Pyrius, Guy Barstow,

SUMMARY: After Elizabeth, under a ghostly spell, tried to take Methos' head, he's out of there.

~~~~

Methos made himself wake up from the dream and saw the ceiling of their bedroom, then a flash of sunlight reflecting on a long, thin piece of metal directly over his head. A sword blade! "I will take your head!" he heard Elizabeth announce with relish. Her face appeared above him, gnarled with rage, holding the sword up. She wailed, "There can be only one!" just as she lowered the sword down on him.

Methos rolled across the bed, and like a cat, he landed on his feet across the bed from her. He kept his weight even on each foot ready to take off in either direction as he watched Elizabeth cut through the mattress where his head had been just seconds before. She was like a woman possessed; she growled at him, probably because she had missed her mark. Her eyes tracked him as he slowly moved, trying to awaken fully.

Elizabeth actually did it! She tried to take his head! He damned his gift of precognition, and his inability to decipher the dreams before they came to pass. Elizabeth coming after his head wasn't something he ever thought would happen, but there she was. Her face was otherworldly as she snapped at him, when he tried to calm her down. She swept the sword out in front of her as she roared with some rage he didn't understand. The tip of the blade sliced his stomach. She whooped with evil glee and swung her sword again. He couldn't finish her off even though that was his impulse, so he moved backward out of the way. He picked up an urn from the table in front of the window that he had crashed into. Even though the urn cost more than most peoples' homes, he flung it at his wife's head. Elizabeth went down immediately. Methos didn't hesitate to grab clothes and get the hell out of there. He quickly donned his jeans and shoes while he kept an eye on Elizabeth out cold on the floor, a welt the size of a golf ball covered her right temple.

The sight of the bruise and her stillness almost killed him. Methos' first reaction was to believe that she hadn't tried to take his head. He might have even killed her with that urn, he wanted to kneel beside her, hold her until she revived or awoken, and talk this through. Then, his survival instinct kicked in with such force that he shuttered from his head straight down to his toes. She almost took my head! Methos screamed to himself as he sashayed past her, careful in case she awoke. He donned the first shirt he found and shoved handfuls of clothes and necessities into his bag from the drawers, closet, and bathroom. Taking one last look at Elizabeth, he walked out.

~~~~~

Elizabeth woke with a pounding headache not realizing what happened. She looked toward the bed, expecting to see Methos. The sheets were tussled, but Methos wasn't there, nor did she feel his buzz. It was only when the voice of Pyrius rattled in her head about her failure did she realize what she had done. Even though she wanted to run away and find Methos to try to explain what was going on, she was paralyzed as Pyrius' voice pounded at her. It wasn't an unaccustomed sensation, but she was certainly getting tired of it. What was worse was that she had started to pay attention to it; just as she had after taking his quickening in Greece. Elizabeth needed to find her own sanity once again.

When she heard Pyrius rant about the willow tree, Elizabeth perked up and finally spoke. "Show me," she asked him weakly. Letting him talk once again, just as she had when she wrote out that journal to Methos, might soften him enough to allow her to integrate him quietly back into her soul; where he belonged. She walked out of the bedroom after donning her robe. She went down the two flights of stairs to the main floor and then out the French dining room doors and over to the tree.

From a more personal perspective on the ground, rather than watching through the third floor bedroom window, the occurrence of Pyrius' suicide attempt was reenacted in front of her. She felt so sorry for Pyrius. That he would have sunk so low, to have lost such hope, to do such a thing, she tried to stop it from happening. When she moved toward him, Pyrius jumped down from the noose around his neck to scream with low and deadly anger, "I should have been dead! Methos made it impossible for me to die!"

Taking a step back as a wave of uncontrolled hopelessness rushed through her, she mumbled, "I'm awfully sorry about your life. If I could have changed any of it, I would have."

A tear seeped down her cheek as her insides crumbled at the unfairness that Pyrius' soul perpetrated on her from inside. She was after all the carrier of his quickening. "I'm so sorry," she said to Pyrius as he moved forward slowly to brush the tear from her face.

Softly, he told her, "Change my future then."

"I tried," she said before realizing what she said. She also continued, as if a part of her she couldn't control was on Pyrius' side. "Methos is too fast for me, even when he sleeps. He's always on the watch."

"Kill him for me as you should have done all those years ago in Delphi. Kill him!" Pyrius ordered her with such venom, she felt it from his apparition and simultaneously from his quickening inside her mind and body. As she collapsed to the ground, Pyrius knelt with her. "Do you like having me control you, Elizabeth?"

She shook her head strongly.

"Well, get used to it, I am not ever leaving you in peace until you take Methos' head."

Elizabeth still felt a part of herself fighting off Pyrius' influence, and tried to nurture that flame. Pyrius' closeness and the shuttering in her body made that more difficult than it normally would be. Ever since taking his head, a times she had felt a sense of deja vu, a sense of sadness, of happiness at moments that she didn't understand. With all the quickenings she had taken she had usually been able to shake them off. Her beloved teacher, Hotohke, had told her to expect a sort of sensation. He had told her that the sensation of feeling the quickenings inside herself would make her stronger. For now, it was just making her weaker. It was making her side with Pyrius as he overwhelmed her.

"You fool!" Pyrius screamed when he obviously didn't get the reaction from her that he desired. "Methos got away. Again! God knows where he went."

A shudder rushed through Elizabeth as she intoned, "I know exactly where he went. I know him."

Pyrius whooped with glee and rubbed his hands together in delight as he sidled close to her. "Tell me."

"Methos is going to Claire."

"Goooooood....."

Elizabeth shook her head against his happiness. "It's too late. He's taken Claire and they're gone by now."

Pyrius, never one to hide any emotion he was feeling, looked as if he was a balloon with a slow air leak. "So. You have failed."

"Methos has to bring Claire somewhere safe. Away from me. I'm thinking Duncan MacLeod."

"I do not like him," Pyrius admitted. "Though I did enjoy torturing him."

"You're a sadistic asshole."

"Just like my father."

Elizabeth laughed as she thought that was a strange thing for an immortal to say, then realized that the immortal was a ghost, all in her head. What was more amazing to her was that she wanted to know what the hell he was talking about. "Father?"

"The horsemen were Methos' brothers, and Methos created me. He gave birth to what I became."

Elizabeth mentally shook Pyrius off, having been through this talk before when she had to exorcize Pyrius from her soul after taking his head. She and Methos had straightened all this out, and she didn't want to replay it all for Pyrius. Wouldn't Pyrius ever understand? He had been inside Elizabeth ever since the beheading. Wasn't he paying attention? "Methos isn't that man anymore," she told the apparition unshakably.

"Keep telling yourself that, Elizabeth," Pyrius scoffed. "You have been telling yourself that for well over ten years now, and I grant you, there are times you actually believed it. Really, Elizabeth. You would not need to keep saying those hollow words if you truly did believe them." Pyrius' face was so close Elizabeth could hardly breathe when he told her, "I would not have the hold I have over you if you actually believed that rapist and murderer has changed even the slightest bit."

Elizabeth just sat there, drawing up her knees to tuck her chin upon. She couldn't. There wasn't any way she could hunt Methos just as there was no way she could challenge Pyrius with the hold he had over her. With no better options, Elizabeth just sat there and cried.

~~~~~

CHRISTMAS EVE
PARIS

Duncan sighed as he fell back on his leather sofa in the barge and kicked off his shoes. The phone was nestled at his ear and Amanda's voice was appropriately apologetic as she said, "I'm so sorry, hun. You know I'd be there if I could, but God love me, I can do many things, but I can't sprout wings and fly. I promise I'll be home late tomorrow."

"It's Christmas Eve," Duncan argued incredulously. "We had plans. Why didn't you make your plane?"

"I got held up. I'm so sorry, Mac. You know I want nothing more than to be curled up next to you in front of the fire with a magnum of champagne and see what you got me for Christmas."

"I think I'll take it back."

"Oh, poo. You wouldn't dare. Tell you what, I'll buy you yet another gift, my love, and we can celebrate for the next month. Just you and me."

A hard knock on the barge door turned Duncan's attention away from his wife on the cell phone. He hadn't expected anyone but the woman was stuck in Oslo and he didn't feel an immortal sensation. "Look, Amanda, get on that plane in the morning or you are toast."

"Well, you sweet talker, you," Amanda spouted. "At least you didn't threaten my head."

"I have to go, or that might be on the agenda."

"Duncan," Amanda quickly said, and it got Duncan's attention. "You know very well I wanted to be home tonight. This was beyond my capacity. I'll explain it all tomorrow, and you'll see how important this is."

"Sure. Some jewel is lonesome on a museum's pedestal, I'm sure."

"Mac," Amanda said softer. "Please don't be too angry. I like that you're a little angry because that only means you love me, but don't be too angry, and pick me up at Orly at 11:30 pm."

Another knock was heard and Duncan moved to the door as he said, "I'll be there, you'd better be." He was going to hang up, but thought better of it. He told his wife, "I love you. Miss me tonight."

"Oh, honey, you know I do. I love you too, and have for years."

Duncan smiled as he cut off the connection and pulled the drape aside and peeked through the porthole. The last person he expected to see was Guy Barstow, but there he was. Duncan opened the door and said, "Hey, long time no see."

"You hear from Daniel lately?" Guy asked without fanfare.

"Why? Did Amy lose him?"

"No. We know exactly where he is, and we're not worried about him right now." Guy walked past Duncan into the barge and looked around. He fingered an ornament on the Christmas tree and took in the roaring fire and magnum of champagne in an ice bucket.

"Liz? Claire?" Duncan asked. "What's going on?"

"You tell me, I don't know how immortal minds work. Amy decided to talk to Dan yesterday but he didn't tell her anything. We're out of ideas, that's why I'm here."

"I haven't heard from either of them for months. I just got back from America myself, so why don't you just fill me in?"

"I think they broke up," Guy said, which made Duncan very surprised. Last he heard from Methos by telephone, they couldn't have been happier setting up a household in an old house Methos had spent time in back after the turn of the last millennium. Guy continued, "I thought Dan-Methos-was just on a business trip. Even after he sold everything and put all his assets in different banks around the world, he has a habit of switching them around. Amy's been on his trail and he has done some business dealings, bought new properties, ran into some old friends."

Duncan's ears perked up at that, but Guy stopped his train of thought, that being Methos could be hunting someone, silly as that sounded; as soon as he realized that was Duncan's first thought.

"No," Guy said. "There haven't been any flashes of brilliance."

Well, at least one thing was still right with the world, Methos hadn't reverted back to the state he was in after Elizabeth had taken Pyrius' head and Methos had regressed to taking care of old immortal business as his way of acting out. Duncan put the champagne back in the fridge and tossed Guy a bottle of beer. It seemed right that they'd drink beer talking about the old guy, and Guy nodded his thanks before opening it and taking a long swallow. "Thanks," he said. "It's been a long, very long, day."

"Why aren't you home with your family?"

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be, but I just got word that you were in Paris and didn't know how long you'd be here. I need to talk to you about this."

"I ask again, what's going on?" Duncan asked, ignoring whatever Watcher grapevines Barstow and Amy had to weave through, or maybe they were on first name bases with his watcher. Hell, he didn't even know who his watcher was.

"Oddness is going on, MacLeod. I've seen weird in my life, but not like this. Amy and I can't make head or tail of it all."

"Explain."

"While on the ship for that year, did Elizabeth and Methos seem happy to you?"

"Sure."

"To me too. After they moved to Kent, they were doing it like rabbits."

"How do you know? You bugging their bedroom?"

"Bite me," Guy said, then added, "Everything was hunky dory, then Methos left just after Thanksgiving. We didn't think much about it, as I said before, he'd make little trips to take care of business. Get away from the ball and chain."

"Are we talking about Methos, or you?"

Guy didn't embrace the moment of teasing, he kept on with his dialogue as he fingered some of the trinkets Duncan had collected over his four centuries. "After Amy followed Methos, I was going to go home and relieve the nanny when Liz came out of the house. She was crying. Like she was under a trance or something. She sat on the ground, in the cold, in only her robe, and cried for what seemed like hours. She finally went inside, and I thought they had a little spat. So," Guy said, but stopped. He looked at Duncan uneasily and said, "Don't get riled up, but we have to do this sometimes. I don't have to tell you, I'm just telling you because I need your help, and you're a friend. You are friendly, aren't you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I had the phone tapped so I could listen in if Methos called back or Elizabeth called anyone."

Duncan no longer wanted Guy in his home. He had figured the Watchers did that even though Joe had profusely swore he never had. Guy knew he had to be riled by that news, so he hurriedly said, "Know what the funny thing is?"

"Tapping phones isn't against the law? Even for Watchers?"

"There weren't any phone calls. In one month, not one incoming or outgoing."

"Did Liz remain at Bethany Stone?"

"Yes. By herself. She went into town a couple of times for groceries, then nothing. She never even left the house. I don't think she's even been eating for the last couple of weeks."

"What about Claire?"

"Methos enrolled Claire in the boarding program at her school just before he left. Claire hasn't lived with, or even heard from, her parents since Thanksgiving."

"They always said Claire would always be with them to protect her."

"Things couldn't be odder. For the last month, the house has been under 24 hour surveillance and she has not left. No one has come. This last week, I went in the house to check on her. I know I'm not supposed to unless I'm invited, that's the deal we made, but yes, I went into the house to talk to her."

"And?"

"I found her in the second floor hallway curled up in a ball in the corner. In the dark. This was about noon on a bright, sunny day. Granted, it's been chilly, so she should stay inside and keep the windows shut, but not to even open the curtains?"

"What did she tell you?"

"Nothing."

"Well, you are a Watcher."

"And she's still probably steamed at my wife. I mean, she didn't even holler at me. She didn't even string two coherent words together."

"Methos and Liz broke up? I can't believe it. They were so happy last time I talked to Methos."

"Have you talked to Elizabeth? Or has Amanda?"

"No. I haven't. I have no way of knowing if Amanda has, but I would assume my wife's been too busy."

"You got your own ball and chain, huh?"

Duncan chuckled. "I would call Amanda many things, but 'ball and chain' would be the most inappropriate."

"Well, something happened and no one's talking. Neither of them are acting normally. For them to not even call Claire, it's nuts.

"Have you talked to Claire?"

"Oh, I'm supposed to tell her, 'Where's your parents? I need to know because it's my job to chronicle their lives?'"

The whole time that Joe was Duncan's Watcher it was tough to be friends, especially when Joe's career was so important to him. Times never change, now Elizabeth and Amy were going through the same thing. "I'll look into it."

"You're going to go and see Elizabeth?"

"I'll call," Duncan offered.

"That's it?"

Duncan ignored Guy and dialed the cell. It rang fifteen times before Duncan hung up, to which Guy remarked, "Crack investigative skills there. I would have just called you if a call would suffice. It is Christmas Eve and I could have taken my kids to meet my wife instead of coming here to talk to you face to face."

"I can't go to Kent."

"Why?"

"My wife is coming home tomorrow night. I haven't seen her in two weeks."

"Okay. Fine," Guy said, standing up shrugging. "I'll continue watching Liz watch the walls."

"She's that out of it? What's going on?"

"Welcome to the conversation! That's what I'm here for. You're heads are so full of crap that you have to deal with, I can't imagine what's going on with any of you."

"Gee, thanks."

"You know what I mean."

Yes, I do," Duncan said heavily. "Nothing happened outwardly between Methos and Elizabeth that you or Amy could see?"

"Just a lot of sex, then he left and she's staring into space like a zombie."

Duncan stared at this watcher that Methos and Elizabeth had befriended, trying to digest what could have happened to make the couple act so strangely. It wasn't unheard of for Methos to leave. There were a lot of reasons he would take off on a moment's notice, but not bring Elizabeth or Claire with? Did Elizabeth even know where he was or when he would be back? Elizabeth hadn't acted as Barstow described since taking Pyrius' head in Greece. At that time, Methos had taken off.

Showing Barstow the door was elementary, Duncan's mind was racing over all the events that could have happened to his friends. Barstow only left after Duncan promised he'd look into it. Methos and Elizabeth had both done a lot for him, and were friends to both Duncan and Amanda. He owed it to them to check it out, if only to make sure Elizabeth's Chronicle was not full of half-truths and fabrications because she wasn't talking. After Duncan packed a bag, he tried to call Amanda on her cell but didn't get an answer. "She has her own plans tonight," Duncan grumbled as he took out his best stationary and favorite pen and wrote his wife a letter. There was a part of him that wondered if she would indeed see it the next night or if she would have found yet another excuse to not come home.

~~~~~

CHRISTMAS DAY

The door was unlocked when Duncan tried the knob, then walked into Bethany Stone Manor for the first time. What he smelled was a lot of must and dampness, normal for old English houses and castles. Duncan hadn't smelled those aromas for a very long time. Usually, the smell gave him a sense of the history of a building. This time, it gave the house an eerie cast. He called out, "Liz? Are you here?"

After getting no answer, he walked into the living room and took note of the thick layer of dust on all horizontal surfaces. Elizabeth was usually an immaculate housekeeper, and it struck him as very odd. When he stepped in farther, he felt a tightening in his chest and a slight ringing in his ears. Elizabeth's immortal buzz told him that she was home, he just couldn't tell where. It was a huge house, and he had just now felt her. She couldn't be on this floor, she had to be upstairs. Barstow said he had found her huddled on the second floor. Duncan looked to the stone stairs and saw only darkness on the next floor. He searched for a light switch and found a trio of buttons on the wall. One turned on the foyer light, another the dining room chandelier, and another didn't do anything at all. The bulb on the second floor landing must be out.

Because her sensation remained constant, Duncan knew he was heading in the right direction, up the stairs, and up the next flight where he finally saw a dim light down a long, wide hall. "Liz?"

"Go away!" he heard her call from the direction of the light. Once he had gotten to the fourth from the top step, he saw that the light was filtering from a door ajar at the end of the hallway.

Duncan continued to the door and nudged it open. All the drapes were shut and the only light came from a raging fire in the fireplace. Elizabeth was wrapped in an afghan, under the sheets and a large comforter, in the bed in the third floor bedroom. "Can't you understand English? I'm not talking French. I refuse to," she said turning away from him.

"Hey, Liz," Duncan greeted her.

Even though what he had seen of the rest of the house was sorely lacking in the cleaning department, this room's furniture shone in the firelight from the bright polish upon it.

She grumbled, "Back for more, finally? Fine." She lifted her head to look at him and blinked repeatedly. "Duncan?"

"In the flesh."

"I thought you were Methos. I was dreading it. I didn't think he'd come back, but then again, maybe he would. I can't go after him, but I would like to see him again. That is, if he isn't coming for my head."

Duncan didn't like the tone of her voice. It had a dead, monotone quality to it and it was low. It instantly brought back the time when he, Elizabeth, and his old friend, Warren Cochrane, had trekked to Greece to rescue Methos from the hands of Pyrius. "What's going on? Why isn't Claire here with you?"

Elizabeth sat up and wrapped the fallen afghan around her shoulders. A slight, wistful smile came to her face as she intoned, "Claire?" Then she shook her head bitterly and replied in a childlike voice, "I can't... I don't know where she is."

Duncan slowly walked to the bed, and carefully sat upon it. "She's at school," Duncan told her lightly. "I just checked up on her. She's a couple of miles from here."

A look of total wonderment crept across her face as he took her hand. "She can't be. Why would Methos leave her so close to me?"

"I don't know why Methos left. Why don't you fill me in."

"I've lost my mind. It's that simple, Duncan. I'm a crazy woman and Methos doesn't want to lose his head. I can't blame him for that. I was glad he left. It's been easier since he left."

"Easier? Liz, you're not living. How long have you been in bed? It looks like you've lost twenty pounds since I last saw you. Are you eating?" His hand brushed her arm comfortingly.

"What's the point?" Her hand dragged through her rat's nest of hair that probably hadn't seen a comb in ages.

"What?" Duncan felt like shaking some sense into her.

Elizabeth suddenly looked horrified and gasped. She cowered back against the substantial carved mahogany headboard. "No, not now! Not while I have company!"

"What's the matter?" Duncan urged her, moving forward to offer comfort in her sudden distress. He hadn't felt another immortal buzz, hadn't heard anything. It must be in her mind.

"Stay away! Just... all of you! Leave me alone! I don't want to be crazy!"

"Elizabeth! Settle down," Duncan ordered, but then felt a cold hand on his shoulder. He spun around and was so jolted with surprise, he fell off the bed. "What the hell!" he bellowed; he was sure he was looking up at the formation of Pyrius standing before him.

"Leave him alone!" Elizabeth yelled and swiped at the apparition that Duncan couldn't believe he was seeing so clearly. "I'm not taking his head, so don't even think about it!"

"What the hell?" Duncan spit out again as he got to his feet just as Pyrius dissipated.

He turned to Elizabeth, who was looking up at him from her hands and knees on the bed with huge eyes. "You saw him?"

Duncan could only stare at her and back to where Pyrius' form had been just seconds before. She jumped up on her knees and threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. "You saw him?!" Liz asked excitedly. "I'm not crazy?"

"What the hell is going on?" demanded Duncan as he pulled Elizabeth away from him. "What trick are you playing?"

"Trick? Like trick or treat? Well, it's about damn time for the treat because the trick is driving me insane. At least I thought it was. Did you see him? Did you see Pyrius?"

"Yes!" he acknowledged, as much as he didn't want to. Duncan MacLeod had seen many demons and ghosts in his time, but in the quiet times of his life, his mind reverted back to the safety of refusing to believe in their existence. The heaviness in his heart that he had felt upon entering the house now took on a whole new meaning. At first, he thought it was just sadness for the state of his friends' marriage, but now he realized that it was because of an unearthly presence. The tightness in his stomach that he endured while in the clench of Ahriman came back, and it made him even more angry. No one, living or dead, was going to control his actions ever again. No other innocents like Richie were going to pay the price for some unknown evil or unpaid debt that he had no part of. Never again.

Duncan walked determinedly to the door, but was stopped short by the sudden, solid form of Pyrius appearing in his way. He fell back to the floor just as Elizabeth jumped off the bed and put her body between Duncan's and Pyrius. Pyrius stated, "Maybe you can get her to get off her ass and do what she's supposed to do."

"It will not happen! I told you many times," Elizabeth cried out. "Do not hurt him too!"

As much as Duncan wanted to, he couldn't move any part of his body; rage had taken over his soul. How could this monster be back? What had Elizabeth done to call him up? He had to get out of there, now, but he couldn't move.

"Go back to hell!" Duncan roared as he got to a sitting position. Elizabeth rolled off him to the floor. Pyrius spun around and raised his hand to them.

All the air seemed to have been sucked out of Duncan's lungs and he was flattened back against the floor. Elizabeth was lying next to him and they both clutched their necks. Her bare legs kicked out; he realized that she was only wearing a hockey jersey and underwear. Pyrius stepped past them as he paced. "This was my bedroom. Do you like it? My Elizabeth fixed it up well. It looks just as it did when I resided here, thanks to Elizabeth."

Duncan called on all he had learned in his year at a monastery after taking Richie's head. The adages of cleansing your thoughts, not allowing anger determine your movements, and not permitting the evil take over your mind washed over him. Soon, he was able to take one slight, yet refreshing breath. Then another. Elizabeth was still struggling beside him. He took her hand and saw that she was beet red, her face taking on an eerie glow by firelight. "Calm," he gasped as he again relaxed his mind and body.

Pyrius trumpeted, "You will bend to my will just as her progress will soon be complete!"

Elizabeth's body reacted to a new wave of control from the ghost. When he was breathing normally, Duncan found that he could move once again. He rolled to his side and pulled Elizabeth's hands from her throat and said, "Just calm down. You'll break his hold."

Pyrius' taunting laugh reverberated behind him as Elizabeth started convulsing and clutched at Duncan for help. Then she stilled, frozen in a mask of terror as she died. Not wanting to again feel intense anger, he looked up at Pyrius, who seemed totally satisfied as he leaned back against the footboard of the bed with his hands clenched under his arms. "Where is that wimp?"

"Methos is not a wimp," Duncan told the ghost. "Even though you tortured him for over a week, he didn't back down from you!"

"I am not talking about Methos,"Pyrius replied with a satisfied smile. "The one who screamed like a little girl from just a little electrode. He screamed about an octave higher than you did."

Duncan was not going to be needled. Pyrius was dead. This was just a vision from his own memory. Still, he was remembering Warren and himself being tortured. Chained to metal pipes in the dank basement of the house Pyrius had purchased for the purpose of torturing Methos before taking his head. It was all in his mind. Duncan refused to believe that the ghost was real.

He looked over and determined that Pyrius looked as real as Elizabeth, and his mind adjusted to the fact that he would have to play this game. Duncan had to deal with him as if he was real, but not rile him and permit his power to overtake him again. "You like this room?" he asked Pyrius.

"Oh, yes. I was able to have much in my room, while the other monks only had cots and an altar to pray to. The abbot resided in the room downstairs, in the room that Methos and Elizabeth insisted on defiling. Over and over again. She never slept with that beast in here. For that, I am glad."

As Pyrius was going through his monologue, Duncan was able to get to his feet. He stepped over Elizabeth's body and over to the bureau, which his antique expertise told him was probably priceless. It had to be from the late 13^th century. Too bad it was going to be destroyed. Duncan smiled as he turned to Pyrius. "This is a beautiful piece of furniture. Where did you get it?"

"Why?" Pyrius scrutinized him, turning his focus entirely upon him.

Now that he had the thing's attention, Duncan opened the drawer at his waist. "Ah, very nice craftsmanship."

"I made it myself," Pyrius stated a bit less reserved. Pride filled his response.

Elizabeth took a reviving gulp of air and coughed as she got to a sitting position. While Pyrius' attention was on her, welcoming her back to the world he wished he still resided in, Duncan took the opportunity to pull the drawer completely out of it's compartment.

Pyrius puffed. "Careful!"

"Sure," Duncan said. He dumped the only content of the drawer, a silver skeleton key, to the floor and smiled at the ghost. "I'll be careful." Duncan took great pleasure in smashing the drawer against the bureau. The old wood crumbled, leaving only the face of it intact. Duncan ordered, "Move!" to Elizabeth behind him on the floor as he beat the face of the drawer against the top of the bureau, the lip of the molding fell off. Pyrius raged and the air swirled in the room.

Elizabeth cried out and scrambled on her hands and knees past Pyrius' legs to the fireplace. The whirling air snuffed the fire out and smoke filled the room. "Open the curtain!" he told Elizabeth, and soon the last of daylight filled the room. Now Duncan could see not only the bureau just before he brought it down to the floor in a mighty crash, but Pyrius' horrified face as well. "What are you doing?!" Elizabeth screamed from the corner by the window.

"Taking control here!" was Duncan's reply as he picked up a long board that splintered from the bureau and smashed at the headboard. Not getting anywhere with that, he picked up the lamp on the table that was being used as a night stand and hurled it in Pyrius' direction. It went right through him as the ghost's dark eyes started to light up. Duncan picked up the table and crashed it against the wall. He was left holding the two legs as the rest fell in three pieces on the floor. The rushing air had made the crucifix and the few paintings fall to the floor.

Duncan walked right through Pyrius determinedly and took Elizabeth's hand. He pulled her to the door, and suddenly the way was blocked by Pyrius. Duncan took a deep breath and cleared his mind as he pulled Elizabeth with him to the door. They fell back when Pyrius' form didn't bend. "You are not going anywhere."

Duncan felt a great weight upon him as Pyrius stooped over him. Pyrius told Elizabeth, "Go."

The same force holding Duncan down must have had the opposite effect on Elizabeth, she seemed to fly to the door. He heard her hit the wall in the hallway.

Pyrius' hands clenched Duncan's head leaving him no choice but howl in pain. It felt as if his head was on fire as Pyrius yelled at him, "I now know all you know, Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod! I know your brightest wish, but I also know your deepest fear!" Pyrius' hands were shaking from the tight hold he had on Duncan's head.

Just as Duncan was about to lose consciousness from the pain of what Pyrius was doing to his mind, Elizabeth's long, matted hair flew into his face. Pyrius lost his grip on Duncan. Duncan fell back to the floor and saw that Elizabeth was on Pyrius' back, scratching at his face. Since his form appeared to be solid once again, Duncan picked up a leg from the smashed table and impaled Pyrius with it.

Elizabeth fell off Pyrius' back. He straightened up with a great howl, the table leg sticking out of his chest. His roar blended with the rushing air around them. Duncan crawled to her, and past her, to the door and he knew that Elizabeth was right behind him. "You cannot get away!" Pyrius raged as they made it into the hallway.

The air in the hallway was calm. Duncan and Elizabeth caught their breath. They scrambled a bit, then got to their feet. Duncan looked back at the room and wondered why Pyrius hadn't followed them. Still looking behind him at the room, he stopped. Elizabeth told him, "Tell me I'm not crazy. That's what I've been dealing with ever since we moved in here."

"You're not crazy, Liz," Duncan said, he was on the brink of exhaustion. "This house is." His chest still felt a heaviness that he figured only getting outside would lessen.

Since the path seemed clear, he took Elizabeth's hand and started down the hallway to the stairs when they both suddenly slammed into a floor to ceiling grate that had appeared out of no where. Collecting himself for just an instant, Duncan kept hold of Elizabeth's hand and charged down the other way. Just past the door of the bedroom, another floor to ceiling grating appeared. They were trapped, with the door to the bedroom they had left Pyrius in their only escape route. Elizabeth grabbed hold of Duncan and her breath was hard in his ear as she shook. He tried jostling the grating loose, but it was solid. He started to climb up it, hoping there was a gap he could fit through at the top.

"Don't leave me!" Elizabeth cried out as she too started to climb.

"Yes," Pyrius said as he entered the hallway. He stood straight with his hands clenched in front of him. "Do not leave her." He started to cackle as he added, "You cannot get away, you fool!"

The grating they were climbing rattled powerfully making Duncan and Elizabeth fall from half way up the grating to the floor. Duncan howled in pain; his leg sticking out sideways from his body. Elizabeth instantly tried to pull it straight, but he shoved her off. It hurt too much to even look at, let alone manipulate. She wouldn't be stopped. He just held onto the grating at his back and let her straighten it. It would never heal right if she didn't. Duncan glared up at Pyrius while he clenched back the pain.

"I'm so scared, he's never been this angry, but I'm also so happy, you see him too," Elizabeth exclaimed gulping air with a smile through her tears. She yanked Duncan's leg straight, causing him to yell out from the jolt of pain. The healing started and Duncan realized that she must have done it quickly, like ripping off a bandage. The pain in his broken leg started to ease. "Why didn't Methos see him?"

"I don't know," Duncan replied. He still couldn't believe, wholeheartedly, that he was seeing a dead man, and leaning against a grate that hadn't been there when he entered.

"Because he is a monster," Pyrius said. "Methos has no feelings, he is dead inside, so why would he see me?"

"He is not a monster," Elizabeth argued. She spun her head from Pyrius to Duncan and said, "I like saying that. And actually meaning it. Your being here gives me the strength to say that to him." She kissed Duncan's cheek as she tenderly felt his leg. "Does it still hurt?"

"No. I'm fine. Let's get out of here. Enough is enough. Just ignore him. We should be okay." Duncan stood up and thumbed his nose at Pyrius in order to concentrate on the grating. It wouldn't budge.

Pyrius said with relish planning, "A warrior the likes of Duncan MacLeod will aid Elizabeth in taking the head of Methos."

"It won't happen, dead boy," Duncan muttered as he walked past Pyrius to slam his body against the other grating. It didn't give.

"I know all you know, Duncan MacLeod." With those words, Pyrius shut the door to the bedroom and dissipated.

He was gone. The light that had filled the hallway with his being was extinguished. The grating was still strong, and seemingly the only escape, the door to the bedroom, was like a brick wall. It took a while with both Duncan and Elizabeth pounding on, beating at, and throwing their bodies against the grating to accept that it wouldn't budge. As they slunk to the floor together exhausted, Duncan mused, "Why did you have to move into a haunted house with stone floors, walls, and ceilings?"

"Blame the construction codes from..." she paused. "Whenever this hell hole was built."

"If you hate it so much, why did you stay here?"

She studied the open wounds on her knees healing. When the healing was complete, she pulled them up and wrapped her arms around her legs. "I'm not sure."

"You have a car outside. Your daughter is right down the road, what the hell are you doing staying here alone?"

"I don't know!" Elizabeth blurted out, then collected herself.

"What the hell happened here?"

A tear slipped down her cheek as she closed her eyes to him, and most likely the world. "Something I didn't mean to happen. The devil made me do it." Elizabeth smiled slightly as she cautiously opened her eyes to look at him.

Duncan put his arm around her and huddled close. "Well, it's not like we don't have any time to talk about it."

~~~~~

AFTER 1 AM
DECEMBER 26, 2012
PARIS

Amanda was a bit let down when she walked up the plank to the barge with her suitcase and didn't feel Duncan's welcoming buzz. She had called to tell him which flight she was taking so he could pick her up at the airport, but only got his machine. She tried his cell, but no answer. She had left the flight number and arrival time on the machine and had expected to see her gorgeous husband at the gate, but he wasn't there.

She had called a cab and hoped to see him waiting by the fire, she had come bearing Christmas gifts, but she didn't feel his immortal sensation as she neared the door. "Where the hell is he?" she muttered disappointed.

After unlocking the door and entering her Paris residence, she checked the messages to find that five of them, including hers, hadn't yet been played. Sure, she was late. She should have been home last night, but for him to just take off? That wasn't like the Duncan she married. She dropped her suitcase on the bed and noticed an envelop on one of the pillows.

She read the message inside:

Amanda-
Had to go to Kent. Trouble with M and E. I'll call as soon as I get there.
Love, Mac

Kent? England? It had been centuries since she had been in Kent, she wondered what on earth possessed Methos to buy a homestead there anyway. Well, he had appreciated King Alfred more than she ever did. It was certainly time for her to visit Bethany Stone Manor, since it looked as if her husband was still there. They couldn't have a party without her.

She picked her suitcase up off the bed and then began wondering when he left or when he got there. She rechecked the messages on the barge's answering machine, and also on her cell phone. There hadn't been any calls from Duncan. Odd. She looked through her palm pilot and found Methos and Elizabeth's number, hit the button to make the call and hurriedly took out her cell to talk when someone answered.

~~~~~

MORNING
LONDON

Methos sat down on a park bench in the park across from the British Museum with a heavy heart. He could tell that Claire was on the verge of tears as he listened, on the cell phone that was planted at his ear, to her telling him how lonely she was at school. He had longed to hear her voice, but now he wondered if it had been a wise decision to call her. "Most of my friends went home over the holidays. I spent Christmas all alone," she whined. "Why am I stuck here? Why can't I go home?"

"I promise to make it up to you, Claire. I promise."

"Where's mom? Can I talk to her?"

"I told you, we're going through something right now. She's not with me."

"Well, where is she? Is she at home?"

"Claire-"

"I'm going to hitch a ride home. Is that where you are? Why won't you tell me? Why am I stuck here?"

"You're not stuck anywhere!" Methos said to regain control of the conversation. He had thought to go back to at least see Claire over the holidays, but running into Maloye Gardner had changed his mind.

~~~~~

ONE WEEK BEFORE
GENEVA

Methos wondered if Alexa now knew how important she still was to him. Even though she'd been dead for over a decade and a half, every time he had any troubles he would trek to her grave, or walk through Geneva, the city where she had died. For a man 5,000 years old, a mortal at the tender age of 24 had made an enormous impact. Alexa had been so deep, she had been dealing with so much during her short years of life. Yet, she lived life to the fullest with him, and that made Methos glad. After Elizabeth had almost taken his head, he had left Claire in the one place she could be safe. He knew Elizabeth was too out of her mind to figure out that Claire was still at school. No use messing up Claire's studies. After he settled somewhere, making sure there would be a life that Claire could enjoy there, he would go back to get her. That time hadn't come as yet.

Methos walked down the same streets of Geneva that Alexa had enjoyed as much as she could, considering that she was so close to having to revert to bed rest. He remembered all her reactions to the old buildings he had remembered being built. He held her hand. Her wedding ring felt good on her finger, in his grasp. Alexa was his 68^th wife, and at the time, Methos thought he would never love another as much as her.

As he had paused before Lac Léman (Lake Geneva) to take in the crisp blue water, he looked down the oval shore to the cottage he had purchased for Alexa and him to reside in during her last days. It was only when he had to take her to hospital that they had interrupted their short-lived honeymoon. The cottage looked much the same, except the blue door and shutters had been painted sage green.

In the mist of reliving holding Alexa on the balcony of that cottage with a blanket around them, he heard a female voice call out behind him. "Adam? Good Lord, are you really Adam Pierson?!"

As soon as he saw her, Methos knew exactly who she was, Maloye Gardner. He looked away and shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked in the other direction. Never let it be said that the Watcher researcher let any stone remain unturned. He heard her heels click rapidly as she ran up to him.

He spun around, "Excuse me?" He was going to pretend she had confused him with someone else, but the wiry red head grabbed hold of his arm.

"It's you. My God," Maloye gasped. "It's really you! A profile like that only comes along once in the history of the world."

Methos squinted at her, still pretending he didn't know her as he mentally blasted his nose. He loved his nose, but had entertained the thought of having plastic surgery to alter it, if that were even possible for an immortal.

"Aren't you going to say hello?" she asked, still hanging onto him. "Don't pretend you don't know me. We worked together every day for two years when we were determining how Methos joined the Chinese in 1570. My God, it's been about twenty years since we last saw each other. Of course, you look just the same."

Methos was at a loss for what to say or how to go about this. Choking her so she wouldn't say anything else in the presence of other people would be one option, but he quickly dismissed it. He smiled. "Ah, Ms. Gardner, is it?"

"Oh, don't be coy." She slapped his arm, which had always been an annoying habit of hers, as well as laughing at things that weren't even remotely funny. "I know it's you. When I heard that..." She neared him and actually whispered, "Methos was dead, I just couldn't believe it."

The air was sucked out of Methos' lungs and hatred bubbled to the surface. After everything he had done to make sure the Watchers didn't know he still existed, this nosy Watcher had just figured it all out during a chance meeting.

"You really are alive," she said. Her smile was gleeful and enormous as she said, "I knew you had to be alive. After watching you as Adam those two years, and reading about how Methos 'bought the farm', I knew that couldn't be true. You're better than that. You wouldn't have lost your head in such a way, and I was positive that the chronicle was a lie. You had to have set someone else up as Methos, and he was the one whose head bounced. But, no one would listen to me." She proudly proclaimed, "I was right!"

Methos grabbed her arm and yanked her toward his rental car in order to prevent her from saying another word. When they were in the car, he just sat behind the wheel wondering which option would be best. Kill her or lie to her. Killing would be easier. Much, much easier. He looked at Maloye, who was staring at every inch of him.

~~~~~

LONDON

Methos tried to get Claire to settle down, but she hung up on him, determined to hitch a ride home since he hadn't denied that her mother was there. He hurriedly hung up and called the main office of the school. The dean's secretary was thankfully in for only a few hours during the holiday, Methos pleaded with her to speak to the dean. "It's an emergency. My daughter is there and she's going to leave the grounds. You have to stop her."

"Claire Gordon? She wouldn't do such a thing," the ignorant woman declared.

"Tell you what," Methos answered her denial, "If she does leave, and something happens to her, Mount of Olives is going to take full responsibility! I have a legion of barristers at my disposal with a lot of time on their hands and they would salivate if such a law suit ended up on their desks!"

He was pleased that it didn't take long for the hag to apologize and promise to get right on it. He instructed her to have someone keep a close eye on his daughter until he got there, and gave his new cell phone number if he was needed. With one last threat, "She'd better be there when I get there," Methos hung up knowing the liability would be immense and enough to make the dean keep Claire right where he had left her.

At least Elizabeth hadn't figured out where she was-or been told by Barstow-and taken her. He looked at his watch and wondered when the usually punctual watcher would waltz to their meeting place. He wanted to collect Claire and travel to the other side of the planet, but he couldn't let Maloye think Adam, Methos, had shafted her. She had to want something that he could provide. He just didn't know what. The possibilities were endless. As he waited for her to arrive, he went through all that Maloye Gardner could possibly desire. She was still working at the same job. Maybe she wanted money. Friendship with the oldest man? More than that?

Methos would play along with anything Maloye wanted until he decided it was either too much, too dangerous being in cahoots with a Watcher he couldn't trust, or had to get back to his daughter and enough of this nonsense. He hoped it wouldn't come to pass that he would kill Maloye. He had always liked her.

~~~~~

KENT

Elizabeth's head slipped down from Duncan's shoulder and she woke up with a start. She and Duncan were still in the same place they had been after wearing themselves out. They had made three attempts to free themselves from their prison before they had collapsed once again to the floor. The process of her head leaving the nook of his shoulder woke Duncan as well. They looked sleepily at each other before realizing that they weren't alone.

"Ah, friends," Pyrius' form greeted them, then he opened the door to the bedroom that Duncan had tried fruitlessly to open. "If I cannot sway you, Duncan MacLeod, maybe someone else can."

Duncan and Elizabeth flattened themselves together against the grate and Duncan just about shit when he saw who walked through the door. She exclaimed, "Who the hell is that?"

A ringing phone was heard and Elizabeth longed to be able to answer it. The man who had stepped from the bedroom was dressed as if he just stepped out of a western.

"Melvin Koren," Duncan spat out with biting hatred. "That is only one of his guises."

Elizabeth had heard of him, but she couldn't place the name in the heat of the moment. "Say, Pyrius. Can I get the phone?" she called out gayly in order to lighten the situation. Ever since Duncan had seen what she saw, she felt more sane, more in control of herself. More sure that she wanted to get the hell away from that house and the quickening that had come to life.

Pyrius just laughed. "Maybe you would like to meet the real Melvin Koren, Elizabeth. That way you will not be in the dark."

A man that she had seen being taken by Duncan in Paris during Pyrius' quickening walked out of the bedroom. The slash on the right side of his face seemed to glisten as brightly as his leather jacket. "One of the horsemen!" she cried out. "How could you possibly be 'friends' with that fiend? They turned you!"

Pyrius replied with a shrug, "One must do what one must do. Caspian was integrated successfully, but Mr. MacLeod has always been a bit squeamish about carrying this one around with him."

The modern day Kronos slapped Melvin Koren's back and said, "It's nice to be free! Isn't it brother?"

"I smell fresh meat," Koren replied. "I'll bet he still can't shoot straight."

"Don't forget the guest of honor at this party," another voice said as they heard footsteps coming from the bedroom.

Elizabeth turned to Duncan, who had a look of horror on his face, as he clutched his head in pain. She saw a man walk out of the bedroom with the same slash on his face, with long matted hair, and what she had long ago deemed 'chicken scratch' markings on his face. She definitely knew who this one was. This was the one and only Kronos. Seeing him in glimpses during the quickening didn't do the man justice. In person, if that's what this could be called, he didn't look cartoonish, which she had decided to declare him. This man didn't have a bit of humor in him as he glared at his companions, and then at Duncan.

"Ah," he told Duncan, who was bent over in pain from his head. "I meet my vessel face to face once again. That is, if you stand up like a man!" The large broadsword he held in his hand was raised.

As Kronos held it up over his head, the blade was held by the hand of another man who just plodded out of the bedroom. "That will be my pleasure," the Irishman said.

Elizabeth helped Duncan to a standing position, albeit leaning against the grating, as she saw Logan walk with his cane to the front of the pack tormenting Duncan. "I get a fair fight, finally."

"No, I do," another voice called out. The form of a dark haired woman with full lips and a pistol walked into the hallway.

"Ingrid," Duncan howled.

A one handed black man walked in, followed by an Indian. They both stared at Duncan as he thrashed about from the pain in his head. Elizabeth didn't know who the people were, but with the appearance of each person filling the hallway, Duncan seemed to lose more and more strength. A huge black man entered with a raised sword and headed straight for Duncan.

Modern Kronos moved through the crowd and stopped him by taking hold of the big man's blade. Blood oozed down Kronos' hand, but he didn't even flinch. Horseman Kronos declared, "You will not kill, Luther. Killing is what I do best." Kronos gleefully raised his own sword.

"Duncan!" Elizabeth yelled. "Do something!"

Duncan was distressed when he said, "How can you stop what's inside of you?"

~~~~~

"Don't you have a family to spend the holidays with?" Methos asked Maloye as she smugly walked to him.

Methos had guessed correctly. He knew human nature better than most, and it still amazed him how mortals revered money. Money could make a steadfast friend serve you up to the enemy for breakfast if the amount was high enough. Maloye wanted ten million dollars and she had smiled when she said, "Then I will go on my merry way and you will never hear from me again."

Yeah, right, Methos thought. He made his face appropriately blank when he said it would take a while to get that amount.

"Of course. I will give you one week. We will meet by the fountain at Trafalgar Square next Tuesday at 5 am. I will even bring breakfast."

Methos said, "I do not care for Egg McMuffins." Ever since McDonald's had taken over the world, he had never understood people's attraction to the plastic meat, cheese and more than likely fake eggs on a cold English muffin, but Maloye had eaten them daily while they were working together on the Methos Chronicle.

"Then you bring breakfast." She turned on her heel and Methos thought she was actually going to walk away. He grabbed her arm. "Hey! Keep off me!"

"That is all you want?"

"Isn't $10,000,000 enough?"

"Yes, but I can't believe it will be that easy. What do you have planned?"

"Look, I hate my job and want some of your money."

"Okay. Fine." Methos watched her disappear into the trees at the edge of the park. He followed her for a ways, and saw her get into her car, he figured it for a ten year old Renault, and drive off. It couldn't be that easy. It just couldn't be.

Killing her would be so easy, their previous friendship be damned. His ruse was blown. Adam was Methos, Methos was alive, the Watchers would know it if he didn't do something about the woman who had also been Don Salzer's apprentice. He had to tread lightly and play things by ear. If he killed her outright, the Watchers might find out about her murder and discover who did it. The Watchers couldn't be messed with. They knew all and everything.

He saw Amy sitting in a car down the street and walked to her. He rapped on the window and she rolled it down. "Did you recognize her?"

"No."

"Do not talk to her if I am in any way important to you. You owe me a multitude of favors," Methos told her, "so stay away from her."

"O-kay..."

Methos didn't stay to explain. He walked down the street plotting how to break into Watcher Headquarters where Maloye Gardner still worked to find out what she had been up to as of late. Not to have climbed up the ladder after almost twenty years? What was wrong with her anyway?

~~~~~

Duncan's head started to clear when he applied his cleansing techniques. He looked up to see Ingrid, Xavier St. Cloud, and Koltec taking the back seat to all three Kronos personifications who were fighting each other over which one would have the pleasure of beheading Duncan. It couldn't be real. Just as it hadn't been real when he took Richie's head. "Richie!" Duncan cried out, as new regret for that sudden swing of his sword swept through him.

He felt Elizabeth's arm around him. They were still huddled together on the floor against the grating. Then he heard a voice drift to him from what seemed like miles away. "Hey, Mac," the voice said.

Comforted, Duncan lifted his head as he heard Sean Burns' soothing voice as well. "Duncan. It is your imagination. Do not let them overtake you. I know they are powerful, but fight, man! Fight!"

The two immortals that Duncan regretted taking most of all walked past the arguing evil ones fighting amongst themselves. "Who are they?" Elizabeth asked in a not so urgent voice.

"Two of my best friends." Duncan replied.

"Your best friends?" Elizabeth asked with disbelief. "What are your best friends doing with all the other heads you've taken?"

"Because I took them as well," Duncan replied softly, bowing his head in sorrow.

"I understand, Mac. I always did," Richie told him. Duncan's student knelt down and patted his shoulder, then smiled at Elizabeth. "Hey, nice to meet ya."

"Who are you?"

"Richie Ryan," Richie said, extending his hand.

Elizabeth looked to Duncan with confusion, then lifted her hand to shake Richie's. Duncan grabbed both of their hands, needing the friendship to soothe his ravaged mind. Sean added his hand to the trio. Elizabeth seemed to calm down as well as she smiled at the friends he wished she had been able to meet and know.

Duncan felt a bubble of lament flood to the surface as he moaned, "I am so sorry! For both of you! Oh, how I failed," he cried.

Duncan had closed his eyes, drinking in the warmth he felt from his friends' hands, but became startled when Elizabeth screamed, "NO!"

He lifted his head up just in time to see Horseman Kronos swing his sword and Richie's head went flying off his body. "NO!" Duncan pulled Sean down, to save him from Xavier's sword, but all he was holding onto was Sean's headless corpse. "God!"

Duncan snapped to his feet and pulled Elizabeth by a fistful of her hair. She didn't complain as she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and followed him as he charged through the mass of immortals that were in his head and Pyrius had brought to life. Just run, was all he could think. Just run and get free!

Duncan and Elizabeth crashed into the opposite grating, hitting their heads, and fell to the floor. As the immortals swirled above him, he reached out for Elizabeth's lifeless hand, then all went black as he felt blood seep down his head.

~~~~

Duncan's note could only mean that he was going to see about Methos and Elizabeth. She couldn't be too upset since she was the first one to ruin their Christmas plans. She had come bearing many gifts, and they would wait. She wondered if the mass of gifts would be enough to buy the Highlander's love again. If he ever found out what she had been doing, she wasn't sure he would ever forgive her. But she had to. "It was him or me," she said encouragingly, speaking out loud, as she lightened her suitcase, to convince herself. "So what if they were friends. He wasn't the least bit friendly when I met up with him."

Amanda hadn't taken a quickening in a while before last night and she was still a bit lightheaded from it. Integration of the new quickening had gone smoothly, but she always felt passionate afterward and so, was disappointed when Duncan wasn't at home. But where was he? There had been no answer at Bethany Stone Manor and she had called three times. Not even an answering machine. He said he went to Kent. So, where was he?

Using Watchers was usually the absolute last resort after she had found out about their existence, but now seemed like a good time. She needed her man, before he found out that Michael Burgess was headless. A chill ran through her again when she wondered if Duncan would understand how it all went down. It wasn't as if she herself took Burgess. Not directly. Although he was, in a sense, inside her. She could twist the events to her advantage if she said that she took Campbell in revenge for his taking Burgess. "Sure, that could work. Couldn't it? Besides, who's to tell Mac the real story? He may not even hear about Burgess for years. Yes! It will be all right."

One of the awful things about having immortals as friends was that one day you never hear from them again. They just disappear as if they dropped off the face of the earth. It had happened to Duncan before, it had happened to her before. This would just be another instance of it. There wasn't anyone to tell Duncan what really happened to his friend. She never liked Burgess anyway. Those artiste types were always a pain in the ass. When Michael Burgess had come to her and Duncan's wedding, he acted as if just his arrival was his gift, and Duncan seemed to agree. Amanda, on the other hand, preferred material things. It wasn't every day she got married. She wanted a gift, and she wasn't talking blenders. What Burgess did gift them with was an awful abstract painting of his, something she assumed he had just plunked off an easel after spending ten minutes of thought on it. The colors were awful. It looked like an animal had thrown up chartreuse, beige, silver, and crimson chunks. Hideous! And Duncan wanted it hung over their bed in her villa in Tuscany. That was a discussion that she didn't want to relive. He had finally come to his senses and put it in his den.

Duncan couldn't find out from Watchers, namely Guy and Amy, about Michael Burgess' beheading, could he? Was he that close to them? She knew that Elizabeth and Amy had been friends in the past but last she heard they were still not talking. She hoped that was true. Maybe she should find out. She could pick Amy and Guy's brains about what they might have heard happened in Oslo, and also find out what Methos and Elizabeth were up to that made her husband leave on Christmas Eve. She clicked through the many numbers in her phone's memory. Guy Barstow popped up. She pushed the call button. "Barstow," he said all businesslike when he answered the call.

"Hello, Guy. This is Amanda. How is everything?"

"Same old, same old. How about you? You were the last one I expected to hear from, although I guess I should have assumed you'd be checking up on your old man."

"Do you know where Mac is?"

"Yeah, he's inside the house I've been watching to no avail."

"Whose house?"

"Liz's," he said, a bit surprised. "Didn't he tell you that's where he was going?"

"Yeah, but I called and there was no answer."

"Well, I saw him go inside and he hasn't left. The rental car is still parked outside."

"What's going on?"

"I haven't seen anything."

"Mac left me a note saying there was trouble, tell me what's going on."

"Well, hubby left some weeks ago and Liz is in the house, now with Duncan. But I haven't even seen any lights turn on inside. They must be talking things out or have called it a night."

"Have you talked to them?"

"No, I'm her watcher. I watch."

"And record," she added. "What have you added to her chronicle."

"I haven't even entered the fact that she's had company, useless information, unless something happens, which doesn't look encouraging. They're probably sleeping."

"I'm on my way. That doesn't sound right. Will you go inside and find out and call me back?"

"I can't. Liz and I have rules."

"Oh, poo, rules. Sure you can. As a friend. Go. Now. I'm on my way."

Asking Guy, a brash, vulgar man, about Burgess now would only make him curious about why she was asking. Once she got to Kent and figured out what was going on she could have a talk with the Barstows and all would be well.

~~~~~

Guy hung up after Amanda had ended the call and paused. He didn't need to go inside to find Duncan talking to Liz who was more than likely in a coma. Since Duncan had arrived, Guy hadn't seen anything happen. Nothing at all. Not even the lights turn on. It was if Duncan MacLeod had just been swallowed up in a black hole, that was the house.

He called Amy to find out where she was. "I just got to the hotel, Merry Christmas," she sighed.

"Tired? Long day?"

"Long week."

"What's happening over there?"

"I'll tell you about it tomorrow. Right now, I just want to take a long bath, call the kids, and call it a night. I think Daniel will be moving early and I want to find out what he's doing."

"Just got a call from Amanda. I was going to go home to the kids, but I think I'll check out the house one more time first."

"Oh, don't mention the kids. I miss them and you so much. I'm going to call them now."

"Okay. Love ya," he said. "Call me when you get into bed. I think I can make you feel better."

"I know you can," Amy purred, stirring Guy, and he cursed their line of work that kept them apart. They'd have to have a talk about the situation once they were again face to face. "I'll call later. I love you."

He hung up feeling wistful as well as irritated. If Methos and Elizabeth could keep their marriage together, Amy and Guy could be together like the family they wanted to be. It wasn't right that the kids were with a nanny more than themselves. He decided he would take a quick look inside the house. "What harm would it do? Maybe I can use the can."

Guy walked to the front door and tried the knob. It wouldn't turn. MacLeod must have locked it after he entered. Strange. It hadn't been locked before him, why would he lock it? Guy walked around the house to the side door that lead to the stables, and again found the door locked. He fished a key he had made from his keyring and put it into the lock, but it wouldn't turn. He was sure it was the key for that door and tried it again. No luck. He tried all the keys on his ring, none of them worked. That worried him.

He'd pay for the damage, he thought as he shoved his elbow against a window pane. His arm ached as it crashed against the window. It hadn't broken even though it looked to be old, probably at least a hundred years old. Certainly, it wasn't double-pane or weatherproof. He grabbed a piece of dried wood from the pile near the door and shoved it at the window. It still didn't break. Guy used the log to try to break all the windows on the first floor, and again tried all of his keys on each of the doors. None of them worked, yet he had used the key he'd made at least twice in the past.

Elizabeth hadn't had time to change the locks. There weren't any lights on inside even though the night was black outside. The call of his children at home was too strong for him to stick around. Sure, he wanted to know what Elizabeth and Duncan MacLeod were up to, but it could wait until tomorrow. In the daylight.

As he started the car, the oddness of Methos and Elizabeth's behavior and the strangeness of the house got to him. Apart from the time that immortal had tried to kill him and Elizabeth took his head, Guy couldn't remember the last time he had been scared. He couldn't drive away from that house and the immortals inside fast enough. Guy had to admit he was spooked when he realized that his hands were shaky, and he wasn't quite sure why. He was a grown man. It was just a house. Somewhat pleasant immortals who he considered friends were inside. Regardless, he couldn't drive away fast enough.

~~~~~

NOON

Amanda pulled into the driveway of Bethany Stone Manor in her rented red Ferrari. She paused behind the wheel after turning off the car to quickly reminisce about last time she had been to the summer house of King Alfred, over a thousand years ago. She had still been quite new to this immortal business, having left Rebecca's tutelage only decades before. The first immortal she had met who hadn't wanted to kill her and she didn't want to kill from fear of just being around him was a man named Hansel. It wasn't until she had met up with him 200 years later, when he referred to himself as William, that she realized the immortal she had a short fling with was more than just a name. She came to find out eventually, over the years and many more encounters, that his name was actually Methos and he was older than dirt.

Amanda got out of the Ferrari and slipped her sunglasses up on her head and took a good look at the house of the King she had loved best. Alfred was a visionary and came to be well loved by England, if not the world. It was Alfred, and Methos as his advisor, who had spread literacy not only through Britain but the world at large. For one mortal man with a crown, he had accomplished more than most. She was taken by how different the manor looked yet somehow the same. The stones of the house and stables had weathered, but were still strong and seemingly straight on their foundations.

Considering how welcomed she felt about the house, it was no wonder Methos had sold that ship and settled here as he had spent even more time there than she. But he had left. He had left his wife, child, and the manor with all its memories behind. Why? She was determined to find out.

She walked to the French doors that had been wood when she was last in residence and looked inside. Not seeing much of anything, even after cupping her hands around her eyes to block out the sun, she tried the door knob. The door opened easily and she walked inside. As she stood by the dining table, she called out, "Mac? Liz?"

The door shut behind her, startling her for a moment, but she just figured there was a breeze or something. She walked farther into the house and searched for a light. Three buttons on the wall by the stone steps leading up to darkness didn't work, except for the one that illuminated the chandelier over the dining table. "Mac?"

She could feel an immortal presence when she stepped up two steps, so she kept going. "What are you guys doing?" She had a flash that Duncan and Elizabeth could be in the throws of passion, but she immediately chalked it up as being ridiculous. She must just be remembering her and Methos in a room just down the hall on the second floor. If Elizabeth and Duncan ever knew just how close she and Methos had been in the past, many times over a millennia, Amanda wasn't too sure they could easily forgive and forget. There was a time, before she had focused her sights on Duncan, that she thought Methos was the only one for her. She would have killed, lied, or stolen anything and anyone if Methos had just given the order. But she had grown up. She had a man who would do anything to protect her in Duncan MacLeod.

Amanda saw a soft light coming from the third floor, so she turned and walked up again. "Come on, you guys. Why the secrecy?" The gnawing thought that Duncan and Elizabeth could be having an affair was strong, and her heart clenched as she walked to the only door ajar that the light, which she now realized was from a fireplace, was coming from.

She opened the door, and screamed. Her worst fear was true! Elizabeth and Duncan were spooned on the bed, one of his arms under Elizabeth's head while the other was protectively over her. Amanda's scream rouse them from their supposed slumber, and they both jerked up and stared at her. "How dare you!"

"What?" Duncan replied, wiping his eyes as if from a deep sleep.

Then she realized that there was blood on his forehead, and when she looked at Elizabeth, she had a dried blood stain on her head as well. "What in God's name is going on here?"

Elizabeth said, "Amanda!" happily, as if she wasn't covering up anything such as sleeping with her husband, and then pointed behind Amanda to ask, "Do you see him?"

Duncan's eyes also drifted in the direction of the door. Amanda felt a chill pass through her as if a door to a freezer had opened. She turned around to see a tall smiling man with short hair at the door with his hands clenched together in front of him. There was no buzz coming from him. Amanda asked, "Who the hell are you?"

"Let me introduce myself," he said in a slow manner. "I am Pyrius."

Amanda immediately backed up until she hit the bed. "Pyrius!" She looked to Elizabeth who nodded. "That's not possible! You're inside her!"

Pyrius walked to Amanda, and she backed up, holding onto the rail of the footboard of the bed, but he was too quick. It was like he had disappeared from where he stood and was immediately almost on top of her. His cold hands clenched her head as she screamed. She could feel the bed move and could heard Duncan yell, "Stay away from her!"

Amanda fell to the floor, weak in the head, as Pyrius laughed. She looked up at him to see him sweep his arm and Duncan and Elizabeth flew back from him to the wall at the head of the bed. They stayed against the wall as if they were attached by velcro.

Pyrius smiled at Amanda. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. You have been a naughty girl."

Her hand flew to her head, wondering what he had done to her. Amanda shook off the dizziness, then got to her feet. Duncan and Elizabeth were yelling to let them go and not hurt Amanda. All of a sudden, Pyrius seemed to split into two people. One of them was Michael Burgess.

"Duncan MacLeod," Pyrius said, indicating the new formation standing next to him. "You know this man, of course."

"Michael?" Duncan asked. "But, you're not dead."

The formation that was Michael looked to Amanda with a scowl. "How did you do that? Why?" Amanda could hardly form words. "Stop! Don't say a word! You are dead!" she yelled at Pyrius, and her biggest secret, one she had wanted to keep from Duncan was standing right there! How did Pyrius know?

"Are you going to explain it?" Michael asked. "I trusted you, you bitch!"

Pyrius was pleased standing by the fireplace. As he raised and lowered his hand, the flames of the fire mimicked his movements. Amanda, needing a way out of here, saw that some of the furniture in this bedroom had been broken. She picked up a piece of wood that she guessed had once been a table leg and was properly dry. "Get back," she warned Michael, waving the leg in front of him. It just went right through him. His not being affected by it didn't stop Amanda, she kept swinging the leg and walking forward until she had hit Pyrius with it. He was solid. "You can't be real."

Pyrius stated, "I am getting more and more powerful all the time. Thanks to Elizabeth."

As Pyrius looked over to Elizabeth and Duncan still stuck to the wall, Amanda brought the table leg down into the fire and felt elated when the old, dry wood instantly caught on fire. She lifted it and jabbed the lit end at Pyrius' chest. He howled in pain as he tried to put out the fire on his clothes. Amanda saw that Michael was coming to her, and she threw the leg at him. It just went right through him, and landed against the curtains, which instantly caught on fire.

Black smoke started filling the room and Duncan, Elizabeth, Amanda, and Pyrius were all screaming. Pyrius' scream was the highest of all. Amanda grabbed his shoulders as he was hunched over putting out the fire on his clothes. She felt the cold, dead hands of Michael on her neck, he was right behind her. She kicked behind her, but hit nothing. She kept hold of Pyrius and shoved him into the fireplace. The fireplace exploded with red and purple flames shooting out of it. Amanda fell to the floor and knew her hair was on fire. She rolled and hit her head until she was sure it was out, her head crackling with pain.

Elizabeth was screaming, the jersey that she was wearing was on fire and Amanda climbed up the footboard to see that she and Duncan had fallen onto the bed. He was slapping at the flames on her as more flames carried from the curtains across the room. Soon, all she saw was black, all she could smell was smoke. "Mac!" she called out and tried to climb up the bed to get to him.

Amanda fell back on the floor and could feel the heat surround her. Her lungs were so full of smoke that she couldn't even cough anymore, and her body convulsed. Blessedly, she lost consciousness just as she felt her legs catch fire.

Continued