THE ELIZABETH SERIES

CHAPTER 66

SNAIL MAIL

by Jo
EnyaJo@aol.com

RATING: PG

CHARACTERS: Methos, Duncan, Amanda, Amy, Elizabeth, Claire, Cathy

SUMMARY: Elizabeth gets in touch with those she loves in the only way she can.

~~~~~

FEBRUARY 8, 2013
PARIS

Methos dutifully followed from Duncan's car to the barge, grumbling the entire time. He was doing this in order to get some peace from people blowing into his apartment and taking a punch at him-but also to subdue the tickling need to apologize to Elizabeth about blowing off steam and repeating those awful words in front of Claire. He should have kept that discussion between him and his wife, and never allowed it to happen in Claire's presence. But with her acting as if all he'd done for Claire's mind, education, and well-being was nothing, he'd snapped. He could just imagine how his daughter was feeling about now, and hoped that Amanda was making her lunch playful. Amanda was certainly angry but she had the luxury of centuries of experience to know when and how to camouflage it in time of need and for the benefit of others.

As they walked up the plank, Methos couldn't sense another buzz in the area, and he knew Elizabeth wasn't there. For that, he was relieved. Methos only had one thing to apologize for, and was willing to take responsibility for that. He had hoped that if/when he did tell Elizabeth he was sorry, she would take the opportunity to accept her responsibility. Or maybe the truth of the matter was just too far out of her reach for her to acknowledge it.

He watched Duncan's look as he unlocked the barge, knowing as well as he did that the inside was void of immortals. There was disappointment, surely, for her absence, but there was also a hint of worry. They walked in, and the first thing Methos noticed was the table. Laid out on it was a black lace dress, black stilettos, and a long strand of pearls. As Duncan went to the phone, Methos looked it all over and knew they were not Amanda's.

He hesitated to look around and see an unmade bed, but then was relieved to realize that Duncan MacLeod was a meticulous housekeeper and had covered up the remnants of their night together. It irked Methos to realize that knowing Duncan had slept with the wife that he had written off was becoming more and more annoying to him. He couldn't possibly be jealous of anything she did. He couldn't be.

Duncan's act of hanging up the phone was a bit more abrupt, more of a slamming motion, than Methos knew Duncan had meant to display. Methos observed Duncan's worried face and decided that waiting around for the return of the woman in question wasn't how he wanted to spend his afternoon. From experience, when Elizabeth couldn't be found after a revelation that she hadn't intended to face, he knew she was gone with the wind.

"Well, so much for good intentions. I'm off."

"I'm sure she'll be back soon."

"Well, she knows where I live." Methos moved to the door and indicated the clothes on the table. "You always had good taste, Highlander."

"It's not there," Duncan said, going to the table, lifting the dress, and even the shoes.

"What?"

"I gave her something yesterday."

"Yeah. I heard. I don't need details."

"A bracelet, Methos. I gave her a bracelet, and it's not here."

Duncan looked at him with a pondering expression, and Methos thought he should tell him what he had suspected as soon as he walked in. "She's not coming back, at least, not any time soon. Sorry, Duncan. You've witnessed the selfish disappearance of Elizabeth. She always takes off if it gets too hot."

"Yeah, because of you. You really messed up today, and as usual, when Elizabeth is in need you're not around."

Not needing to be riled or spoken down to, Methos just turned and left.

~~~~~

FEBRUARY 10, 2013
NEW YORK CITY

Elizabeth turned in bed and once again felt the heat of the sun beating down on her from an undraped window. She thought for sure she had shut them before trying to get some sleep, finally. Good sleep. She had about three hours worth since returning to her city. Usually her sleeping mind would force her to relive each moment in Methos' apartment, seeing her daughter's shocked, disturbed face when those horrible words were repeated by her father. She sat up in bed, pulling her matted hair behind her and looked at the Today Show starting on the still working television across the room. She pulled at the snarls in her hair, and decided to take a bath.

She went through the three boxes of things that she had asked the St. Regis hotel to hold for her until she came back, or had them send to her when she decided to settle in one place. In the back of her mind, she had hoped that place would be Paris so she could be closer to her daughter. Now that probably wasn't ever going to be a possibility. She finally found a nightgown and sniffed it. It hadn't been laundered and she had worn it the first night she stayed there. After sweating, tossing, and turning all night she had tossed it in the box when she changed. She couldn't wear it again, and there wasn't much in there to wear to be comfortable in bed, which was where she planned on staying as long as she felt her mind weighed a half ton and her body was numb.

Elizabeth spotted the bottle of whiskey she had been nursing that she'd had sent up on her first night at the hotel sitting alongside the television in the armoire. She tilted it to see the last drop fall to the carpet. She called down to the lobby to ask for laundry services, she would put a box by the door, and also asked if they'd send up another bottle of whiskey and a couple of cans of coke.

She went to the bathroom knowing that the baths she had taken were the most therapeutic activity she had undertaken since leaving Paris. She turned on the faucets, dumped the last bit of bath beads from the complimentary bottle into the water, and placed the minute bottle of shampoo on the ledge. She felt her hair again. Maybe that's why her hair felt like crap, no conditioning. She called down to ask if they had any conditioner to send up. After a pause while the man checked, he came back to say, "No, I'm sorry, ma'am. We have hand lotion."

"That won't help my hair, now, will it?"

"Perhaps you would like to use the store just down the block."

Elizabeth hung up. If she had the least bit of interest in leaving the hotel, she would have gotten the conditioner herself. Just then, there was a knock on the door, and she went to open it. A maid was standing in front of her cart and pulled a bottle of Seagrams out. "Here you are, ma'am. Would you mind if I take care of this room? We've noticed that you haven't had a cleaning since you moved in." She indicated the "Do Not Disturb" sign hanging on the outside door handle.

"Can you get me some hair conditioner?" she asked instead of answering the simple question.

"Um, I don't think the hotel has complimentary conditioner. We have shampoo," she said, putting her hand in a bin, which Elizabeth assumed held the same little shampoo bottles that she had in the bathroom.

"No, I have shampoo. I need conditioner. If I gave you money, would you mind going down the block to get some? Any kind? I'll tip you. Please?"

"Well, I'm on duty."

"Yeah, and you're serving a guest. Me. I won't tell anyone. When you come back, I'll be taking a bath, and you can clean up the place."

Elizabeth took the bottle of whiskey, then lifted the six pack of Coke bottles from the cart. "Well..." the maid said.

"Oh, come on. It's all right. If your supervisors have a problem with it, just have them talk to me. I spend enough a night for this place; I should at least get some conditioner. I know I could call the concierge, but he's a snooty little man who I'd rather not deal with, and you could use a few extra bucks, couldn't you?"

Elizabeth motioned her in and pulled some money out of her purse. "I'm not fussy, any kind will do. Preferably a deep conditioner, though, if you don't mind. I have plenty of shampoo, and if I need it, I know how to get my hands on some hand lotion."

"All right, ma'am," the maid cordially said after taking the fifty dollar bill. "It shouldn't take me long."

The maid left her cart near the door and walked down the hallway. Elizabeth spotted a short stack of USA Today's on the cart, and took one, then shut her door and checked on her bath water. It was just about to overflowing, so Elizabeth shut off the faucets and checked the water temperature. It was cold. She collapsed on the floor alongside the tub and started to cry. It was the last of the bath beads. She'd have to drain the tub and start over again to get hot water in there. It seemed too much of a chore, so she drained the tub, grabbed the whiskey and a bottle of coke to mix herself a drink. There was no ice. Perplexed, she fell into the easy chair with the whiskey bottle and watched the weather forecast for snow.

~~~~~

FEBRUARY 11, 2013
PARIS

Methos was a bit disappointed that Voluptuous Victoria, as he had started to affectionately refer to her, wasn't at the upstairs gym but he had a good workout anyway. He checked his watch and noted that Claire wouldn't be up yet, and decided to take a jog since he was feeling so good. He was just coming out the main door of his building when a Fed Ex driver emerged from the truck. Not expecting anything, Methos just kept running. Winters in Paris could sometimes be horrible with cold, wind, and snow. This winter they had experienced temperatures adequately cold enough to keep snow on the ground, but on this morning there wasn't a wind. Since he would be active, he hadn't stopped at home to get his coat; he had only lingered long enough to feel Claire's hum and listen to silence to confirm that she was still asleep and fine. As he ran, he was glad he hadn't covered up more, his sweatshirt, sweat pants, and sneakers were enough. The sun was bright in the sky and the sidewalks were clear of people who would slow him down. He ran as if he hadn't a care in the world, or as if he was running away from something. He couldn't discern which, and just ran not caring to think about it.

His emotions since finding out the truth about his wife and friends' relationship ran from hot to cold, with little in between. So what if she found a new lover? He imagined that their relationship was similar to his and Amanda's. Convenient. Nice, but convenient. One that made one feel wanted, needed, and appreciated. Then, he would think about their relationship over the years since he had first met Elizabeth with Duncan in attendance. Once again, he remembered how bumpy the first few days were after learning about the female immortal who was Amy's friend and who got Joe shot. He had been upset with her, taunted her, didn't give her many breaks, and she had sailed through the discomfort to prove herself trustworthy. Whether he had misconstrued her trustworthiness now in light of what happened in Bethany Stone Manor was something he didn't want to delve into too deeply. He had truly loved Elizabeth for many years. He had changed his life to suit her. He had given her his love, trust, hopes, and dreams. Could she really have been playing him along just to get his head? If that was true, he jostled himself back to reality, she had plenty of opportunity before Kent, England. He finally had to accept the fact that Elizabeth had been taken over by a side of her mind that held decisions and feelings that she had never wanted to face. It would only be when she realized and came to terms with them that he could even hope to forgive her.

"Forgive her?!" he berated himself as he stopped running to catch his breath after having run a mile circle around his building. He still had feelings for her, and once in a while, against his better judgement, he would imagine what life could be like with Elizabeth again. He paced to his building, saying to himself, "I'll pull an Amanda. I just won't think about it."

To his surprise, the Fed Ex driver had left a manilla cardboard envelop at his door. He brought it in as he heard the television coming from Claire's room. "Good morning," he called to her.

"Morning, Dad. Can we go to the zoo today?" she called back.

"What's at the zoo besides animals?" he asked as he made coffee.

Claire stuck her head out of her room to say, "Nothing."

"Then why go? You've seen one gorilla, you've seen them all."

"I heard on the telly that Scuba, the whale, had her... little whale. I want to see it."

"What's a little whale called?"

Claire thought. "A baby."

"Think again."

Claire fell silent as she thought and then went back in her room. Methos looked at the envelop on the counter, and only then noticed the handwriting. There was no return address, but he was sure that the writing was in Elizabeth's hand. She must have sent it the day after arriving in New York.

"Calf!" Claire called from her room and then appeared at the door to her room wearing a pink t-shirt and jeans. "It's a calf, right?"

"Bingo." He fingered the envelop wondering whether or not to open it while Claire was around.

"So, can we go?"

"Sure. What do you want for breakfast?"

"A croissant with ham and provolone at the Moliere."

"Comb your hair and brush your teeth."

She came out of her room and said, "I was just going to do that."

He finally opened the manilla and four other number 10 envelops spilled out. One was addressed to him, one to Claire, one to Amanda, and one to Duncan. All sealed. He took a cup of coffee and went to the table with his and opened it. The top of the powder blue stationary had been cut off, he supposed to hide the letterhead, but he knew where the sheets had come from. He also had a feeling that was where she was. He saw Elizabeth's handwriting, and took a sip of coffee wondering if he actually wanted to read it. Claire had the radio blaring from the bathroom so he decided to read it quickly.

Daniel,

If you're reading this, must be a good sign. This is the fifth time I've started this letter, trying to tell you what I feel I need to say. I just don't know how to say it. First off, I don't want to get back with you. I know that sounds pompous, but if we get that out of the way, the rest of what I have to say may sink in. I don't want to save our marriage just as sincerely as you don't. That said, what I want is for us to find some middle ground where our daughter is concerned. I can't be more livid about what you did the last time I saw you, and hope to God you haven't further poisoned her mind against me. I don't mean that as harsh as it sounds, it's just the truth. You're probably not reading this anyway.

Methos remembered the letters she had written to him over the years, either little love notes, short verses while they were apart for a few days, or the letter she wrote after he dreamt she would die to straighten out her affairs. In none of them had she rambled as she was in this one. This was the fifth draft? The letter sounded as if she was carrying on a conversation with herself and he was just eavesdropping.

I know I screwed up with you and our marriage. I know you can't forgive me. I know you think I'm not to be trusted with Claire. I'm not now. I'll admit that. But, I will be one day. I hope that after I devote myself to getting my head together, you'll understand that I love Claire more than anyone or anything on this earth, that I deserve to see her, that I can be trusted with her, and I deserve to have her with me, at least part of the time. I would never, ever hurt her intentionally. Never, ever physically. What I have to focus on until I'm able to see her again (and am lucky enough that she will want to see me) is getting emotional balance back in my life for her benefit. Right now, I'm not good for anything, certainly not her. Please don't speak harshly about me to her. I promise to make things right with her, with a little help from you. I know it's asking a lot, but please. If you've ever loved me, ever, please honor what we had once and don't say anymore bad things about me in front of Claire. All I want is to have some kind of relationship with her, one that she wants, whatever that might be.

Liz

If the tone of Claire's letter was the same, he wasn't sure Claire would be ready to hear from her mother. He had said nothing about Elizabeth to Claire in the past few days as Claire hadn't broached the subject. He was going to open Claire's letter to make sure it wouldn't hurt her if/when she read it, but then Methos thought better of it. He would do what Elizabeth wanted, in this case, and any harm the letter would bring, it would be her fault.

Claire came in carrying her backpack over her shoulder. "I'm ready, and starving. Let's go."

"Okay," he said, putting his coffee cup in the sink. "Look on the table."

Claire looked at Methos'opened letter and the envelop with her name on it. "From Mom?"

"Yep. If you want to take time to read it," he started.

"Nah. Let's go."

Claire hadn't even looked at Methos' letter, which she surely could have, she dismissed the thought of communication with her mother, but she didn't shut the concept off completely. She took her envelop and stuck it in her backpack. Interesting. He wondered if they should talk about Elizabeth, but instead, Methos just collected the envelops and his letter, stuffed them back in the manilla, put them in his desk, and then fell in step behind Claire to the door.

~~~~~

Elizabeth had fallen asleep in the comfortable chair, and only woke up when she felt an immortal presence. She looked around the room, trying to place where she was, and then remembered she was at the St. Regis with no child, husband, lover, or friend. Only the whiskey that she had drunk more than a fourth of straight out of the bottle. The immortal sensation was hovering outside, and she looked around for where her sword could be. She noticed that the room had been cleaned up. The bed was made, the dirty dishes from a supper she had called room service for a couple of nights before had been taken away, and on the table was a brown paper bag and change. The maid must have gotten her the conditioner, and that was foremost in Elizabeth's mind, not the immortal. If he/she wanted to bust in there and take her head, Elizabeth wasn't sure she'd put up much of a fight.

She stood up and saw that the maid must have locked the deadbolt after cleaning since Elizabeth had been out cold. Elizabeth stood numbly until the immortal buzz faded. It wasn't a fade that happened whenever an immortal got used to another immortal close by, but one that confirmed that the intruder was gone.

She decided to try again with a bath, and saw that the maid had left fresh towels, bath beads, two more trial sized bottles of shampoo, and a couple of bottles of hand lotion. This time, she would make sure the temperature was just right before allowing the tub to fill. She took some ice out of the freezer and made a drink, thinking she put too much whiskey in the glass, but then figured she'd end up drinking it anyway, might as well not go through the rigmarole of making a new drink.

She saw the USA Today on the floor, so she picked it up and carried it into the bathroom. She had no idea what was going on in the world. Only her failures, fears, and disappointments had been filling hers as of late. She couldn't wait to put her mind to something else.

~~~~~

Methos felt an immortal sensation as he and Claire returned to their apartment after a morning spent looking at a baby whale and an afternoon at the Louvre. He quizzed Claire about every painting, sculpture, and artist; everything they had looked at, and figured her learning for the day would be art appreciation.

He asked Claire to check the mail to get her away in case the presence was a foe, and he was going to the hiding place in the hallway where he kept a spare blade for instances just as this. He couldn't bring his sword to the zoo or Louvre, and wouldn't look for a fight while with his daughter. You never know when a blade would be handy though, so he kept one in the hallway. As he past his own door quietly, he heard Amanda's singing.

He opened the door a bit relieved that the immortal was a friend, but the way his immortal friends had been treating him lately, he didn't know if her presence would be a good thing or not.

Amanda smiled brightly for him from the kitchen. "I can't stand the paint fumes anymore and had a hankering for some leg of lamb. Are you and Claire hungry?"

"Sure," he replied pleased and took off his coat.

Claire came in, and after spotting Amanda, went straight to the oven to peer through the window. "What you making?"

"Lamb."

Claire's nose scrunched up. "You want me to eat a baby sheep?"

Amanda flicked her finger playfully against Claire's nose and said, "You eat chicken."

"Yeah."

"I have the perfect Cobb salad for you in the fridge that I prepared with my own two hands. How about that?"

"You're the best, Aunt Amanda," Claire said as she hugged her. "We saw Scuba's calf today."

"That's all you have to mention after all we saw?" Methos asked with a laugh.

"And some paintings," she offered. "No Van Goghs or Picassos."

Amanda asked her, "How do you like Renoir?"

"He's okay," Claire said with a shrug.

"Okay? I'll have you know the painting I just bought set me back 250,000 pounds."

"Way cool. Where are you going to hang it?"

"I don't know for sure. Do you want to come to my place and help me decide?"

"Sure."

The lamb smelled great, and Amanda had an array of vegetables spread out on the counter in preparation to chop. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, excited by the meal.

Amanda handed him a beer from the fridge, and said, "Ah, ah. I'm the chef. You can set the table though."

"I'm going to call Genevieve," Claire said then disappeared into her bedroom. Methos thought she could be in there forever once those two fast-made friends got to talking.

As Methos twisted off the cap of his beer, Amanda asked, "Have you heard from Duncan?"

"Thankfully, no." He was going to tell Amanda what he had seen on Duncan's table the other day when they went to his barge in search of Elizabeth, but decided not to. Opposed to himself, the fact that her husband had slept with his wife riled her. He just wanted some peace. But then, he remembered the letter Elizabeth had sent for Amanda. He should open it first to see if it would cause Amanda to lose her cool, but then wondered when he started to feel like the mother hen of the world.

Methos went to the desk and pulled out the envelop. He laid it on the counter as Amanda had a knife in her hand chopping tomatoes. Might not have been a good time to do it.

She looked at it. "What's that?"

"It came in the post today. Don't read it now, just remember to take it with you."

Amanda studied it. "That's Elizabeth's handwriting. She has the gall to write me a letter?"

"I don't care how to you take whatever's in there, but I do ask you to keep your voice down and not make a scene."

"Why would I make a scene?" she asked loudly. Then she paused, flashed a hint of embarrassment, and smiled. "Okay, I was talking loud, but I'm over it now. Nothing she has to say could be worse than sleeping with Mac."

Amanda continued chopping the tomatoes, and Methos didn't want any sort of accident to happen to himself. He went over to turn on the stereo, putting on a Beatles CD. When he turned back after hearing no more chopping, he saw that curiosity had gotten the best of her and she was opening the envelop.

As she read the words that Elizabeth sent her, Amanda slowly lost her defensive posture. By the time she was finished, she had a sad look on her face. Two could play the curiosity game, and he wondered what his beloved had to say. Methos thought it was about how atrocious he had acted, and maybe trying to get Amanda on her side. From the look on Amanda's face, it might have worked.

He walked to her and held out his hand. "Do you mind if I read it?"

Amanda nodded slightly but then held the letter to her chest as if rereading the letter's contents in her mind. Obviously deciding it was all right to read, she handed it to him and turned to stir the contents of the pot on the stove, her back to him. He could swear he heard a sniff.

Amanda,

We've been through ups and downs together, crimes and laughter. I've been jealous of your body, wit, and survival techniques. I'm lucky to have called you friend. Most of all, I'll always be indebted to you for bringing Claire into my life. That girl has given my life meaning. If it wasn't for you, I never would have experienced half of the exceptional feelings I've had in the past eleven years.

I have to ask you a favor. You said when you gave Claire to Methos and me that you weren't mother material. With a newborn, you may be right. Over the years, I've seen you with Claire. You're wonderful with her, and for her, and Claire adores you. As I'm unable to shower Claire with love and maternal guidance, could you do me the honor of taking my place in Claire's life until I can get back on my feet? Claire needs a mother right now, if anything to counteract Methos' structure. She needs someone to talk to now that she's going to be heading into the teen years. Please be for her what I can't be. One day I'll have the strength and intelligence needed to resume my duties as her mother, with Claire's blessing.

I know it's selfish of me to ask this of you. I know I've done Claire wrong. I know that I should be fighting Methos for her right now. I know many things, but haven't the capacity to do anything about them now. Besides that, Claire's angry with me, as she has every right to be. Could you please take my place for the while it takes me to get back on my feet? I'll be forever in your debt for making Claire my daughter, and don't know how I'll ever repay you for this favor if you're willing, but I'll make it up to you, Amanda. I promise I'll make everything up to you, and there's a lot to mend. I hope you forgive me.

Elizabeth

"Well," Methos said as he folded up the paper and stuck it back in the envelop. "Mighty selfish indeed."

"It's not easy confronting you," Amanda said, her back still turned. Then she growled. "OH! Why did she have to go and do something like that?"

"Try to mend fences while making sure she doesn't have to deal with responsibilities, you mean?"

"No, be so... her."

When Amanda turned around, Methos saw that she had been tearing up. He handed her the envelop, and she motioned to her purse on the edge of the counter. He put it in there as she said, "I have to confess, I've missed her as a friend, and what she wrote, and what she asked of me..."

"I agree you should keep doing what you're doing for Claire."

"It's not selfish of her Methos, she wants what's best for her child." Amanda seemed to grow strength when she said, "How about you track her down and just talk to her. Don't yell, don't fight. Just talk things out?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? You'd like us to get back together."

"Sure," she shrugged, knowing he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"If I get back with Liz, there's a better chance you can get MacLeod back," Methos egged her on.

"I can still get Mac back," she stated confidently. "I've competed against better women than... All right. That would make things a lot easier, and it's a simple misunderstanding that tore you two apart, and I'm sure that given time and communication-"

"Wouldn't make any difference, unless Elizabeth comes to some conclusions she's not willing to draw as of yet, maybe not ever."

Methos went back to the desk and gave her Duncan's envelop too. "See what a good friend I am? I'm going to give you this as an excuse to go over and deliver it."

Amanda's eyes lit up when she saw the envelop to Duncan. A smile took over her face as she snapped it up. "I'll be sure to be there to comfort him after he reads this. It's got to be a Dear John letter. They don't belong together."

"Believe what you want."

"Oh, come on. It irks you too that they're together. Admit it."

"Last I heard, and what the letters indicate, Liz isn't with anyone right now."

"Mac could be with her."

"Then why would she write him a letter and send it here?"

"Why did she send it here? To rub our noses in it?"

"Because she doesn't have the barge's address?" Methos assumed.

"That's true. Well, after dinner, I'll make sure Mac sees this, and be prepared to soothe his broken ego when he reads that their one night stand will be nothing more than that."

~~~~~

Duncan had been going out of his mind the last few days, mindlessly traveling through Paris in search of a woman that he knew in his heart had left not only him but the city he loved. While he had driven Methos over to the barge for him and Elizabeth to talk, Methos had confessed what he had said in front of Claire. It had taken all the strength he had to not go after the old man with his katana. Elizabeth must be out of her mind with anger, betrayal, and sorrow. If she still had her head. Not hearing from her worried Duncan, there were times when immortals would realize they hadn't heard from other immortals friends, only to get news that they had been taken. In her state of mind after the trauma of her last visit with Claire, she was surely not be thinking about protecting herself. The fact that she had taken her sword was a good sign, even though it killed him that she had left at all.

After a phone call to Methos asking if he had heard from Elizabeth, and receiving a no answer, Duncan tried to figure out how to find that woman, if only to have her tell him to get lost. With everything seemingly at a standstill, he couldn't stop his mission of finding her. His life had stopped when Elizabeth disappeared. He was worried, a bit ticked, and didn't know what to do with his days; so he called hotels in Paris to see if she was in any of them, drove the streets, and wondered where in the world she could be.

Driving to Methos' apartment for one more go round to see if he'd heard from her, he got an idea. When it came so clear in his mind, he was mad at himself for not thinking about it before. Watchers certainly used immortals in tight spots; he could use one himself.

Duncan parked his car across the street from Methos', but instead of going in, he search the perimeter for the woman he knew was never far from whatever happened in Methos' life in recent years. Just down the block in a nondescript green car, Duncan recognized Amy sitting behind the wheel plugging some information into a palm pilot. He tapped on the passenger side window, startling her, and made a motion for her to unlock the door. After she clicked the button, Duncan slid into the seat and shut the door. "How've you been?"

"Great. Yourself?"

"Not so great. Where's Liz?"

Amy shook her head, pierced her lips, and went back to whatever she was doing with the electronic instrument in her hand. "I know you know where she is, just tell me, and I'll be off."

"It would be against Liz's wishes if I told you anything. We had a bargain, and I'm keeping with my original agenda, even though she's changed the rules on me, to suit her own needs."

"Come on, Amy."

"No. I'll not be known as a traitor. If she wants you to know where she is, she'd tell you. In fact, Guy and I haven't talked about Elizabeth, so I don't even know myself where she is exactly. We have other things to talk about when he calls."

"Where's Guy? Give me a hint. I'll take it from there."

"I can't, Duncan. As mad as I am at her, I'm going to abide by her wishes. I can't tell you. Look, Duncan, I hate to be harsh," she said, shifting in her seat to face him. "But, if she wanted to talk to you, she knows how to do that. She would appear at your barge, or call you on the cell."

"I'm not sure she's in any condition to think clearly. She might get herself into danger. If I mean nothing to her, I want to hear it from her. Just disappearing isn't right."

"She's fine, according to Guy. She's not in danger."

"I need to hear it from her," Duncan replied sadly and got out of the car, knowing it was a dead end.

Worry and being uneasy with the feeling of not being able to help a friend pulled Duncan under. He had to admit that the lack of communication with Elizabeth and not being able to track her down, convinced him that they were probably just friends. Maybe they weren't even that anymore. He looked at Methos' building and decided to once again look in to see if they had heard from her, assuming that Amanda was living there.

True to form, she had made herself right at home in Methos' place, even cooking an extravagant dinner for him. He got right to the point, "I know I sound like a broken record, but have you heard from her? If not, I think I'm going to leave Paris for a while."

He saw Methos look to Amanda, who picked up a letter from the counter and put on a solemn face as she walked to him. "I was hoping I could have time to prep you for this, Duncan," she said as she offered the envelop to him. 'Duncan' was written on it, and he knew right away that it came from Elizabeth.

"How long have you had this?" he demanded of her. It would be just like her to keep the lines of communication between him and Elizabeth closed.

Methos said, "I just received the package this morning, Highlander. Don't get bent out of shape."

"I was going to go over to deliver this after we finish dinner," Amanda snapped at him. "If I thought for one minute that you'd want to eat with us, I would have invited you."

Duncan found himself a corner in the living room and ripped open the letter. He was a bit ticked that he was doing it in front of them, but he wanted to find out what she had to say as soon as possible.

Duncan,

I'm sure this sudden turn in our relationship is as confusing to you as it is to me. I'm also sure you've heard what I said about Claire, which was so selfish and cruel. So, all things put together, I have absolutely no idea of what you think of me, but I want you to know that I appreciate everything you've done for me. Not just in the last few weeks or by showing me an absolutely luminous and alive Paris, but I appreciate all you've done for me since I met you.

If not for you, we wouldn't have gotten Methos back from Greece. If not for you, I wouldn't have found my way through Pyrius' quickening. If not for you, I would have been in James' clutches long before he kidnaped me the second time, and I wouldn't have met Claire. If not for you, hell I wouldn't have even gone to Paris to get the one night with Claire I was able to spend. If not for you... the list is endless, Duncan.

Because you have been my friend, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your kindness. Because I was your lover for one beautiful night, I have a glorious memory to carry with me all my days. Please forgive me for taking off so suddenly, but I'm scared, Duncan. That's my only excuse.

Elizabeth

He flipped the paper over, and only then did he realize that the top of the powder blue stationary had been clipped off and the paper wasn't the normal eight and a half inches high. She obviously didn't want him to know where she was. Why write to him when she wasn't going to tell him where she was? After all she said in the letter, was that a kiss off, confusion, or was she symbolically telling him that she'd return to his life only when she's ready?

He turned to see both Methos and Amanda looking at him. He folded the letter, put it back in the envelop, then put it in his pocket. "Thank you for giving it to me."

"What?" Methos asked snarkily. "You think I'd burn it?"

Duncan shrugged. It seemed like something Amanda would do. She came forward to hold his arm tenderly. "Duncan, what can I do to help?"

"Nothing."

"Did she tell you where she was?" Methos asked.

"Did she break things off with you?" Amanda asked, hopefully.

"No, to both of you," he said and opened the door and stepped over the threshold.

~~~~~

Methos watched Duncan read the letter from his wife. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he would really like to know what she had related to him. Maybe he should have opened it, and just given it to him later, if what she wrote sat all right with him. She hadn't told Duncan where she was, and for that, he was a bit glad. That meant that she had called off their relationship. Why that mattered to him, Methos didn't know, or didn't want to think about. Since Duncan told Amanda that Elizabeth hadn't written what she hoped was a Dear John letter, Methos decided that the letter must have been as rambling as his was. Lots to say but no information. Regardless of what the Highlander thought of him, he decided to give the guy a suggestion so no one could say he was petty or lacking feeling of any sort.

"MacLeod," he called to Duncan in the hallway.

Duncan turned back to listen. Methos said, "Looks like you got the same stationary that I did, and Amanda, and most likely Claire, but I'm only guessing as I've not opened her letter."

"So?"

Methos bristled at Duncan's lack of gratefulness but pushed ahead nonetheless. "I know where it came from. It's from a certain hotel in New York. I assumed she would have gone to New York, and I wrote on similar sheets myself while I stayed there in the past. I can't be certain, of course, but there's a good chance she's at the St. Regis." It tickled him that she just might be staying in suite 1120, where they had spent their first night together. He'd have to call the hotel to find out if that was indeed where she was. If she had taken their suite, her accepting her blame might not be too far away.

Duncan said, "I don't know what to say. Except, thanks."

Methos nodded, having done his good deed for the day.

"Mind if I go in to talk to Claire?"

"If you can get her off the phone, be my guest."

After Duncan smiled and knocked on Claire's door, Amanda slapped Methos' hand. It was only after Duncan was with Claire that Amanda forcefully whispered, "What did you do that for?"

~~~~~

At the end of a pretty good day which didn't include school, except for making her dad happy with his test at the Louvre, a good supper, and planning a sleep over with Genevieve that weekend, Claire couldn't sleep. She stretched her body to turn on the radio on the table at the head of her bed. She turned the volume down so it was just loud enough for her to hear it and then made herself comfortable so she could get to sleep.

But she couldn't. Claire pulled on the chain that she had worn everyday since leaving Kent with her dad. When the locket slipped out from under her nightgown, Claire held it as the cold metal slowly turned body temperature. She reclined on the bed as she opened it to see a picture of Elizabeth that her dad told her he put in it when she was a baby. It was fun traveling the world and living with her dad in Paris, but Claire also loved the memories of being at home with her mom, baking, watching TV, dancing to songs on the radio, doing puzzles, or just talking. She thought her mom loved her. She thought her family would be together forever. She hoped her dad would explain everything that happened while she was at school. Claire missed the life she had. She had called her mom's cell phone, but never got an answer. Maybe she didn't want to talk to her. Maybe she did hate her. Duncan had told her that she didn't, but how would he know?

Claire took the chain out from around her neck and threw the locket against the wall, and it fell down between the wall and bed to the floor. It could just stay there! Sorrow over the loss of the life she had lead with her mom and dad, with both of them loving her, made Claire start crying. She didn't want to show her dad how sad she felt; she wanted to be a grownup. She couldn't help it, though. The tears started flowing, and she could hear her sobs, but couldn't stop. She heard her dad get out of bed in the next room, and turned so she was facing the wall and tried to stop crying.

"What's the matter?" her dad asked, and she could tell he was standing at the door.

Claire wiped her face roughly and said, "Nothing."

"Okay," he said. "You know where I am if you want to talk."

She kept still and quiet hoping he'd go away and leave her alone. Then cried again when she imagined what would happen to her if he did. She had been an orphan once. One mother didn't want her. Amanda didn't want her. Her mom didn't want her. What if her dad left her too?

"Dad," she called out, chilled by her thoughts.

When he came back to the door, he asked, "What?"

"You aren't going to leave me, are you?"

Happily, he came into her room, sat on her bed, and gathered her into his arms. She couldn't stop the tears from coming again, and now didn't want to. He smoothed her hair and kissed the top of her head. She started to feel better when he said, "I will never leave you. You're my sidekick. We're Laurel and Hardy. Lennon and McCartney. Thelma and Louise. Only we're not going to drive into the Grand Canyon. Or, do anything else in that movie, really. Bad analogy."

"Huh?" he always brought up obscure references, and she looked up to him.

He smiled softly to her and wiped away her tears. "You're finally ready to talk about it?"

"No." The last thing she wanted was to state her fear that her mom didn't want her again and have him say it was true. She put her head to her dad's chest and held him for a while longer, gaining more confidence that he would always want her.

He told her, "It's all right, Claire. Everything will work out, one way or another. You were thinking about your mom, right?"

Claire nodded sadly.

"Did you read her letter?"

Claire shook her head.

"Well, I have no idea what she has to say to you, but she did write it. Maybe you want to read it."

Her dad kissed her cheek and told her, "You know where I am if you want to talk, but you should get some sleep."

"Okay," she said as he tucked her in and kissed her forehead.

She could hear him walk back to his bedroom, and she remembered that her mom's letter was in the other room. She turned over not at all wanting to read her mother's words confirming that she wasn't wanted. After minutes of staring at the white wall, Claire decided to just read it and get it over with.

Claire tiptoed out to the living room to open her backpack and pull out the letter. She tiptoed back to her room, shut the door, turned on the lamp, sat on her bed, and opened the envelop.

Claire,

Even though those horrible words were said, I wasn't thinking clearly in England. Remember when I explained to the best of my ability all I could when we were at Amy's? I have to confess that I was a mess. I wasn't feeling right. I know you must have known that I wasn't acting right. If you think back to when we lived in Bethany Stone Manor, you'll realize that I was acting differently than I usually had, for example on the Claire Elizabeth, or any time before moving there.

Claire, please know that I love you more than anything or anyone in the world. That includes your father and myself. You're my light. I've missed you so much and just wish that I could have been smart enough to figure out how to make things work. Please know that I have never regretted a single moment I've spent with you. The day you came into my life was the day I became truly alive.

I have no good explanation for what happened in that house or why I said those words. I own up to the fact that I did say them, which is horrible, but now I wonder if they weren't prophetic in some way. Maybe I knew things were getting worse but I couldn't detect it and was glad that you weren't in the middle of what might be to come (and what did come when I attacked your father). I wanted you to be safe, and you would be out of that house. All I've wanted was to keep you safe and show you love. I've shirked my responsibility, my honor, to do that as of late, but I trust that your dad is more than filling the bill. You can rely on Amanda. If there's anything you aren't comfortable talking with your father about, I know you can talk to Amanda. She'll understand and have great advice for you.

Maybe I shouldn't have come to Paris to see you. Even though ever since you left with your dad, I've wanted nothing more than to see you, but it was too soon. I cherish the night we were able to spend together and love you so much. Honey, I need time to put everything into perspective and figure out why I allowed everything to happen. My only hope is that you can one day forgive me, Claire, and that I can see you and hold you again, and that-if you're willing-I can be your mother not in name only, but in your heart. Most of all, I want you to be happy. Know that I love you as much as your dad does. I wish we could be together now so I could say these words to your face, answer your questions, hold and support you, but I don't want to hurt you anymore.

Love, Mom

~~~~~

Methos had heard Claire go get the letter, and wondered at her willpower not to have read it before then. He was certain that Elizabeth would write flowery words to their daughter to soft coat all she had done. Prodding Claire to read it would end with Claire crying or, worse yet, mad at him for making her do so. All he wanted was for his girl not to feel sad, rejected, or put upon. He sat up on his bed, waiting and listening, as Claire was obviously reading the letter. It must have been the longest letter Elizabeth had written as he heard Claire shift pages.

Just when his curiosity over what she had written, his hope that he hadn't made a mistake to let Claire read it without clearing it first, got the better of him and he was going to go see Claire, she appeared at his door. She wasn't crying, or seemed in any way affected by what her mother wrote to her. He motioned for her to come in, and Claire sat on his bed and handed him the letter.

After reading it, he was glad there weren't any accusations or attempts to cover up, or lies and deception. In fact, he was quite surprised by what she admitted. If she could only admit to him her part in all this... What she did need was time to process. Admitting that everything was all ones fault was a difficult process, and Methos would give Elizabeth all the time she needed. At least she hadn't told Claire that she was going to fight him for custody or some such nonsense.

"What do you think?" he asked Claire.

"She says she loves me," Claire said in a small voice.

"That was never an issue."

"Then why isn't she here? Why did she leave? Why did she say that? Is that true? She was just glad I'd be safe?"

Not knowing how to handle all Claire's questions without giving it some thought, he only said, "She may have a point about wanting you safe. I shouldn't have said that around you, and I'm sorry for that."

"Why? Shouldn't I know everything? I'm not a baby. I need to know everything."

There was no way in hell he would ever allow Claire to know everything she 'should' know. He and Elizabeth had always felt that after she turned she would get all the explanations she ever wanted or needed. "I know you're not a baby. You're a very grown up eleven year old. But there are still things you can't understand, but only because you don't have the life experience to accept them. You will. One day."

Claire pondered that and grimaced. He couldn't do anything about her disappointment that he did not tell her moment by moment everything that happened in the house, starting with Elizabeth's love for a certain room, her almost lopping her hand off, and raising that sword against him. Claire would just have to live with knowing she didn't know everything. Methos could live with that.

"Is she lying to me? Is this all so I won't hate her?"

"No. I have a feeling she is telling you the honest truth. I could say a lot of things about your mother, but one thing I can't deny is her love for you."

"Then why isn't she here?"

Some reasons were hinted at in the letter, and Claire just wanted to be difficult, demanding, or pry for more information than she was allowed to get. "As she said, she needs time to process things."

"Like why she almost killed you and why... how did she almost kill you, dad? What did you do to her?"

Suddenly, Claire's curiosity was thrown to him. She hadn't asked those questions before, and he wondered if Elizabeth had told Claire anything in the past. That night they spent at the hotel, she could have told Claire anything. What if their stories didn't jibe? Methos just said, "I don't know why," even though he did.

"Was she going to shoot you?"

"Why do you want to talk about that?"

Claire shrugged and looked at the letter. Methos told her, "Just get some sleep," skirting the subject.

Claire kissed him on the cheek and floated out of the room. He wondered if she was all right, and not having thoughts of Elizabeth trying to stab, plug, or behead him in her dreams. Deciding she shouldn't be alone as she fell asleep, and to hopefully give her some pleasant thoughts to think about instead, he picked up a photo album from a box in the corner of his bedroom and went into her room. She returned under the covers, looking at the letter.

"Hey," he told her with a smile. "Want to walk down memory lane? Scoot over."

She situated herself on one side of her twin bed while Methos stretch out on top of the covers next to her. She put her head on his shoulder as he opened the album on his lap with his knees up. It was a photo album that had been made when Claire was a baby and had been packed away with all of Elizabeth's other things when he had thought her dead. After retrieving it, while collecting all things important to him and removing all traces of himself as Methos, he had given it to Elizabeth. She had added to it while they lived in Reading, and Claire particularly liked seeing the picture of her riding Santo. There were photos of their time on the Claire Elizabeth, and only a few from when they had first moved into Bethany Stone Manor. Of all the things he had gathered after waking to find Elizabeth's sword over his head and knocking her out, that photo album was the only nonessential possession he had taken with him. Considering how everything in the house had burned, he was glad that the most important possessions were still in storage garages, placed there while they sailed the world.

He saw the changes in Claire, and how much the same he and Elizabeth were in all the pictures. Wondering how long it would take for Claire to realize that they didn't age, he looked at her. She was asleep with her head on his shoulder, her hand holding the left side of the album. Slowly, he moved the album so her hand let go and then put it on the floor. He reached behind him to shut off the lamp and just stayed with Claire long enough to be sure that she was asleep.

Methos almost fell asleep himself, but when Claire turned, he woke up. He got off her bed and tucked her in, then took the letter, which had almost fallen between the bed and wall. He folded it and put it on her dresser, picked up the album and left it on a chair in the corner of her room. If she wanted to look at it again, see the love both he and Elizabeth showed her in the pictures, it was fine with him. All he wanted was for Claire to be happy. Safe and happy.

Continued