THE ELIZABETH SERIES
CHAPTER 67

GOALS

By JoLayne
EnyaJo@aol.com

RATING: PG

CHARACTERS: Methos, Amanda, Duncan, Amy, Elizabeth, Claire, Cathy, Al Cartwright, Wynonna

SUMMARY: Claire remembers her mom's birthday is coming up, Methos doesn't want to be the bad guy, Duncan finds Elizabeth and encourages her to get off her ass, and the head of the Hunters gets some news.

~~~~~

FEBRUARY 12, 2013
PARIS

Because Amanda had been gloomy about Duncan taking off to Elizabeth, but energized about her new role as substitute mother to Claire, she had been spending a lot of time at Methos' apartment. She told Methos she was going to stay away from there so Duncan wouldn't think they're 'together' and close off all negotiations of saving their marriage. That went out the window after Amanda read Elizabeth's letter asking her to take care of Claire. Methos assumed that if Amanda did a good job with Claire for Elizabeth, it would look even better for Mac, and he would just forget all his reasons why the marriage ended and come crawling back to her. Or maybe that was a bit harsh for him to think. Whatever her reasoning was, he was glad Amanda was there for Claire. She and Claire had been up late talking, and Methos was pleased that he heard them laughing. He was going to join them in the fun they were having, but then wondered if he would put a kibosh on the girl talk. Nevertheless, it was nice to hear Claire laugh again.

Since he couldn't sleep more than a few hours because he was going through all the events that had happened since they left the Claire Elizabeth, Methos had gotten up before the sun. He was going to make a huge breakfast as his stomach was rumbling, but thought that the females could use some serious sack time. The events of the last two weeks hadn't done anything to make for restful nights.

Instead of waking them with the smell of frying bacon and perked coffee, Methos dressed in sweats and went up to the gym. It was only when he had seen the closed door and dark through the window that he realized the gym was usually locked at night. He didn't have a key for the gym door with him, and now thinking about it, didn't know if he had one at all.

Dressed for fitness, he decided to go for a run. Since he would like to retrieve some warm sweaters he had packed in storage, as he was tired of wearing the same three, he thought he'd swing by the garage. Because Claire had seemed interested in the photo album the other night, he wondered what goodies he had packed away that consisted of his life with Elizabeth and their child.

Methos didn't exactly know why he was so compliant about keeping the mother-daughter bond between Elizabeth and Claire as strong as he had; it certainly couldn't be due to love for his wife. He couldn't trust her and she would probably never accept her degree of guilt in the manner. It had to do with his unbridled love of his daughter. He hated to see her upset, missing Elizabeth, or confused. If Claire had even once turned her back on anything Elizabeth, he would have closed the subject. Since she hadn't, he looked both ways for anyone watching before unlocking the storage garage and went inside for search of sweaters and anything Claire might want to look at.

After sifting through a multitude of boxes, and not even making a dent in the volume of them stacked neatly in the garage, Methos only then realized he had a lot of stuff. The thought that he had given away or sold most of his possessions and had only kept the essentials was amusing to him. After 5,000 years, one accumulates stuff. He smiled at the parallel of finding a poetry book he had purchased in the thirteenth century in the same box as a Game Boy that Claire had in Reading. She hadn't played it long before becoming bored and went on to other things that interested her more.

Some boxes he spent time going through, some he just glanced at, knowing there wasn't anything in there that Claire would want to, or shouldn't, see. In one box, Methos pulled out the painted leather piece that was Elizabeth's soul catcher, the only thing she had of her teacher. He remembered all the times she would be upset and would sit peacefully with it, allowing herself to calm down. She probably didn't know where it was or what happened to it. The flurry of their life together had consisted of hasty exits, moves, and travels. He didn't even know how it ended up in his possession. If she regarded it half as closely as he revered Meletta's ring, she would want to have it back. Maybe his act of returning it to her would make Elizabeth see past the emotions that always got in the way so she could 'find her center' and figure out what was of her.

~~~~~

The day was early and Amy already had enough of it. She was up late talking to Guy on the phone as he told her all about how he had set himself up in New York City, astoundingly finding a sublet not far from the St. Regis, where he was sure Elizabeth was going to be holed up for a while. "She hasn't even left her room since checking in, so she's going to be there for the foreseeable future," Guy had said with little thought to what he was saying. If Elizabeth hadn't even explored the city that Amy knew she loved, something was more wrong than at first glance. After the call, Amy was kept up late thinking about Elizabeth's circumstance and trying to figure her the hell out. To make Amy's morning worse, the babysitter came and it was a chore for Katie to let Amy go to work. Maybe she missed her dad, as she had been so clingy since he left; she was a daddy's girl.

As Amy approached Methos' neighborhood, she spotted Methos carrying a cumbersome cardboard box as he walked down the sidewalk. She slowed to even the speed of the car to his steps and opened the passenger side window. "Need a lift?"

Methos smiled at her and immediately got into her warm car after putting the box in the back seat. "Amy to the rescue."

"What all you got there?"

"Things I need. Just came from the storage garage."

Amy started into traffic again and didn't take the lack of complete information to heart. She had become used to her new relationship to the immortals since leaving the Claire Elizabeth, and was surprised he had offered that much data. Then she remembered and went through her purse as she drove. "I have something you might want. At least it's off my hands now."

She got Elizabeth's wedding ring out of the little side zippered pocket of her purse and plopped it into his opened hand. She glanced at his expression as he saw it, and observed that he wasn't wearing his ring. Methos always did know how to cover what he was thinking or how he was feeling. He just closed his fist and looked out the passenger side window.

"How is Claire doing?" she asked, as it wouldn't be as intrusive to illicit an answer as any of her other thousand questions might be.

"She's fine." Methos nodded as if to qualify the abrupt answer.

"Great."

"Your kids?"

"Katie's not feeling well, but Joey's really having a good time in Paris. He's learning French, and has a deaf friend, so he's also learning sign language."

"Ah, we can carry on a silent conversation when I see him again," Methos said proudly. "I suppose with Barstow gone, you need some excitement instead of the same old grind. Why don't you and the kids come over for dinner one day? I know Claire's mentioned she's missed Joey."

"That would be nice. Thanks." Amy pulled to a stop in front of Methos' building, not parking a couple of blocks back as she normally did.

"Still have the same cell number?"

"Yes. Do you?"

"Yes. We should keep in touch. With Joe too. Maybe next time he comes to call he'll have something more interesting to talk about."

"What do you mean?" Amy asked, then remembered that Joe had blown up in front of Methos and Amanda, and then in front of Duncan and Elizabeth. When he had found out that Duncan and Elizabeth had spent the night together, it surprised her, but her father's reaction was more telling. Joe Dawson really was invested in what was going on with his immortal friends, and spent a lot of time bemoaning the fact that they were 'throwing it all to hell.' After he lost Caroline, he took matters of the heart seriously, and was disappointed that Amy insisted on keeping her job instead of flying off to live with Guy. She had told Joe, "He could very well quit his job and come to live with me, too you know." Joe hadn't an answer to that. He was still so old fashioned in most respects. "Don't answer that," Amy told Methos.

He smiled and said, "I hadn't dreamed of it. Thanks for the lift. I'll call you later, and we can arrange something for all of us."

With that, he was gone. She was back to being Watcher, so she went around the block and parked her car down the street. She hadn't asked him what his plans were that day, or needled him for what was in the box, or if Amanda had moved in again now that Duncan was gone. So many questions, so much time for a Watcher to find out the answers.

~~~~~

FEBRUARY 12, 2013
NEW YORK CITY

Now that all the heavy drapes in Elizabeth's hotel room had been closed up tight before she laid her head on the pillow, Elizabeth opened her eyes to an immortal sensation in almost complete darkness. Damn whatever immortal had taken up residence in her area! She was too groggy to do anything about it, so she just turned over and closed her eyes again. She had been feeling it once in a while over the days she had spent at the St. Regis, but since whoever it was hadn't made an appearance, she didn't go looking for the immortal either. The last thing she needed right now was a challenge. Deep in her heart, she wondered if she was faced with an opponent if she would put up much of a fight.

The four she sent letters to had to have read them by now, and she hadn't heard from them. Very telling. None of them wanted anything to do with her, most importantly her child. Suddenly, Elizabeth's eyes popped open and her heart fell. "What a fucking idiot!" she lambasted herself as she jumped out of bed and tried to find her purse in the darkened room. Falling over furniture made her fumble for the window and open the drape for light. It was either dawn or dusk, she couldn't tell which, from the degree of light outside. The only other thing she had noticed was that it had snowed while she wasn't paying attention. She found her purse and pulled out her cell phone.

"How the hell can Claire reach me if I don't tell her where I am or have my damn phone on!"

The phone battery was dead. Hanging her head, annoyed with herself, she tried to search through her things for her charger. Coming up empty, she sat on the bed defeated. She couldn't even keep a phone battery charged.

~~~~~

Claire finished her lesson in Roman History with her father and asked if she could watch the telly for a while. She had gotten into a French soap opera, and it would have to be today that Maurice would tell Louisa that he was the one who killed her father. That jerk! He only wanted control of the company, couldn't she figure that out? When he said that would be fine she grabbed a bag of Doritoes and a Coke and shut the door behind her. During a commercial, her eyes moved to the photo album that her dad had left in her room. She hadn't looked at it since that night, but now it called to her. She put the album on her bed and flipped through it. She'd smile when she saw pictures of her mom holding her as a baby. Her mom had such beautiful long hair, a lighter shade of brown then her own Claire took hold of her hair to see that their wave was almost identical. "Oh that's stupid. She's not really my mom. I can't have her hair. It's a coincidence."

Claire did like seeing Elizabeth's smile as she held baby Claire. It looked like she was having fun. Claire told herself again that her mom did love her, and as she said in the letter, she would figure things out so they could all be together again. Claire knew that her dad missed her mom. Even today, he had come home with a box while she and Amanda were eating breakfast, and it was filled with things that her mom had. He had given her something called a soul catcher to hold onto that her mom cared a lot about. Why her mom didn't have it was something that confused Claire, but then it made her wonder. Her mom wasn't with a lot of things she loved, including her.

After thinking things over, Claire felt bad about throwing her locket the other night. She looked between the bed and wall to see if she could see it, and couldn't. She got onto her hands and knees to get it from under the bed, as she knew it was there. Having found a magazine she had misplaced and one of her favorite socks was another good reason why she had crawled under there. Taking the locket, Claire opened it to see the picture of her mom, then put it the chain back over her neck. She went through the album again, by now forgetting about the soap opera, and saw a picture that was taken during her mom's birthday while they were on the Claire Elizabeth.

Her mom's birthday! It was coming up soon. Even though she didn't like being apart from her mom and didn't fully understand why she was, Claire wanted to give her a present. Absently holding the locket in her hand, Claire wondered if it was too late to send her mom a present half way around the world. Then she wondered if her dad would take her shopping. Remembering the letter, her mom said that she could always ask Amanda anything, and since Aunt Amanda loved shopping, she was the one to talk to about this. Seeing a picture of herself in the album, smiling, happy, and holding the locket, Claire got an idea and went in search of a scissors.

~~~~~

Duncan walked into the St. Regis hotel with a bag of clothes and essentials in one hand and his packaged sword in the other and stomped the snow off his feet. There could very well be a full out blizzard as the wind had seemed to kick up more since he was at the airport. He hoped Methos was right that Elizabeth was there and not some wild goose chase to amuse himself. At least it seemed plausible that she was in New York City. It was odd that Methos told him where she probably was as he was supposedly through with her. During the flight over, he wondered if the new relationship between him and Elizabeth was one that would stand the test of time. It hadn't stood the test of complications, that was certain. One touchy situation and Elizabeth bolted. She was so like Methos. Probably more than either of them wanted to admit.

He hadn't come to sweep Elizabeth off her feet. Instead, he wanted to be the shoulder she leaned on as she had been for him after he was so filled with remorse about Richie. Elizabeth needed someone to guide her through this trauma, and he would once again be there for her in the guise of a friend. He was her friend first and foremost, and he wanted her to know that he would always be there for her. The letter she wrote to him was so clear that she needed him. Probably not in a romantic sense, but as a friend who could give her much needed advice.

The worker at the desk was busy on the phone, so Duncan just waited. He made sure he was noticed by her, that he was waiting for her help, when he saw a man come into the hotel and went straight to the desk, most likely to check in. He had come this far, he could wait a couple of minutes, but not lose his place in line.

As soon as the clerk had hung up, Duncan asked, "Elizabeth Bennett's room, please?"

She typed on the keyboard as she said, "Good evening, sir," pleasantly. She then found the information and he looked to the screen to see which room she was in. He couldn't make out the information.

She said, "I could call up to her room for you, but I can't give out information on our guests."

He had been hoping to surprise her, but said, "Tell her Duncan is here to see her."

"Very well, sir," she said as she picked up the phone. After a few minutes, she hung up. "Ms. Bennett isn't answering. She may be out."

"Ok, I'll come back later. Which room is she in?"

"I'm sorry, sir," she repeated. "I can't give out information on guests unless they instruct us to."

Duncan, bummed he didn't trick the girl, nodded and said, "Thank anyway," happy to know that she was at least there. Or someone with that name was there. It had to be her. Because the weather was so crummy outside, he pondered the fact that she hadn't answered the call. She wouldn't be outside in this weather. She may just be not answering her phone. In that case, he didn't know what he could find if/when he found her, not knowing what condition she was in.

Duncan decided to just use the built-in advantage that immortals had and walk the halls of the hotel until he sensed her. Starting with the ground floor, he would work himself up.

~~~~~

Elizabeth had rummaged through the room in search for whiskey or wine. The hunger pangs she felt weren't as important to her as her pounding head and need to wake up. A knock on the door stopped her search. She hadn't expected anyone, and there wasn't an immortal sensation along with the knock. Elizabeth went to the door and looked out the peephole. She didn't know who the young woman was, but she did look familiar. Elizabeth opened the door. "Yes?"

The woman smiled politely and said, "Ma'am, you haven't called for anything or removed the do not disturb sign to signal that you wanted your room cleaned. I'm almost done with my shift, and thought I'd check on you."

The maid... from... Elizabeth didn't know how long ago it was that the girl had gone on the errand for her. "That's really nice," Elizabeth said, in a bit of a haze now putting it together of who the girl was. "What time is it?"

"3:15."

"Am or pm?"

"3:15 in the afternoon. Ma'am, are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Thanks for your concern; it was just jet lag catching up with me. It was very kind of you to worry, but I'm fine. Oh, what's your name?"

"Cathy."

"Cathy, you gave the exact change when you got my hair conditioner. Come in for a minute." Elizabeth grabbed the twenty dollar bill she had kept for this very reason by the bathroom sink and gave it to her.

"Thank you, ma'am. That isn't necessary. All employees of the St. Regis are more than happy to do anything legal to make sure the guests are happy."

"Keep it."

"Is there anything else I could get you? I could get my cleaning cart, or have some food sent up."

Elizabeth thought to have some liquor sent up, but then realized that she hadn't eaten for a while. "You know what? Food would be good. I could call down myself though."

"My pleasure. What would you like?"

"Pancakes would be excellent. Is that too late for that?"

"Of course not. You can get anything you want any time of day."

"Except hair conditioner," Elizabeth said smiling, and laughed with Cathy's embarrassed one.

Cathy said, "I'll tell the manager that hair conditioner should be required in our rooms."

Elizabeth felt the tickling of an approaching immortal once again, and was shocked when Duncan walked down the hallway. Happiness flowed through her, and she started to cry as he walked past Cathy into her room and gathered her up in his arms.

Cathy said, "I'll have two plates sent up, ma'am," and closed the door as she left.

Elizabeth thought she answered the sweet girl, but all she could appreciate at the moment was Duncan's strong arms around her. It seemed as if all the loneliness, numbness, and need faded away. He was actually here! "I didn't know what you thought of me for leaving so fast."

"I'm pretty upset with you about that, but don't think about it."

"How did you know where I was?"

"Methos told me. He recognized the stationary."

"Methos told you where he assumed I was? Why?" That man never ceased to amaze her. Why would he tell her new lover where she was? If he assumed where she was, why hadn't she heard from him or Claire? She remembered her dead cell phone.

"I heard about the argument," Duncan said. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

"So he could tell me the truth and you could punch him again?"

"What you said and what he so shamelessly repeated in front of Claire was not the truth, Liz. You know that. Claire has to realize you didn't mean what you were saying."

"Have you seen her?"

"Not really."

"Then she might, and Methos is feeding it to her. But if he hates me so much, why tell you where I am? Or, that's what he wants. He wants us to be together. He wants the chaste, put upon husband while I'm the floozy and he'll have the upper hand when I'm strong enough to fight him for custody of Claire. It's all coming together. That's what he's doing."

"I'm not here to make you a floozy, Liz. I'm just here to see how you are and give you support."

"I don't think we should sleep together anymore."

"That's fine," he said, but she could see that her pointed conversation had affected him. He had been so wonderful to her for so long, she did feel close to him and did love him, but only as a truly good friend.

"The last thing I want to do is lose you. I seem to destroy relationships, and I don't want to lose your friendship."

"You're not going to," he promised her, and opened his arms for her to sink herself against him again.

Because he had so easily eschewed the concept of them continuing the romantic angle of their relationship, Elizabeth was hopeful. "Did you get back with Amanda?

"No. I haven't even talked to her."

Panic and anger riled her with his answer, and she accused, "You said you checked in on Claire. Amanda's living with Methos and Claire, isn't she? Well then where's Claire? Are you lying to me?"

"What is the matter with you?"

"Why did you not see Amanda if you saw Claire? You can't lie to me, Duncan. I couldn't handle that!"

"I didn't talk to Amanda, but I saw her. Yes, she's at Methos', but she's got her own apartment. I talked to Claire, after I got the letter from you and Methos told me where you were."

Elizabeth's head whirled. "Oh God. My mind's gone. I'm sorry. I just... I'm jealous of everyone when it comes to Claire."

"Then go see her. She wants to see you."

"I can't do that until I can prove to him, Claire, and myself that I'm not a basket case like I just displayed for your benefit," Elizabeth cried.

"You're not!"

"I need time to sort things out."

She fell onto the bed and covered her eyes, her head pounding. She heard Duncan move around the room, and he showed her an empty wine bottle. "Is this how you're sorting things out? How's that working for you?"

Not wanting to deal with Duncan questioning how she's wasted the last few days, she blabbered, "I put everything I had to say in those letters. You did get yours, right?"

"Yes, I said that Methos recognized the stationary. Liz, are you okay?"

"I'm... How can I be? Just hold me, please? That's not too selfish, is it?"

Duncan got on the bed beside her and rubbed her shoulder, then smoothed her hair back. "Don't think about anything. It's all right. It's all too fast. Just relax and then we'll eat and then we'll talk about things."

Elizabeth sniffed back the tears and started to feel better. She curled up beside him. "Thank you for coming."

~~~~~

Claire thought her gift to her mom looked as best as she could make it. There was some birthday wrap left over from Genevieve's present a couple of weeks ago, and with a little searching, Claire found some ribbons that she had her dad buy because she was going to use to decorate her colorless bedroom but hadn't gotten around to yet. She was so relieved that she remembered her mom's birthday, and really needed to talk to her. After her mom's letter, she had really thought about all the things that had gone wrong since leaving the Claire Elizabeth. Her mom's explanation of wanting her out of the house seemed more in keeping with the love and protection she always received from her mom. Claire didn't want to think about why her dad brought it up, in such a mean way, and really hoped that they would one day work things out.

Claire tried to call her mom on the cell phone that was specifically for that purpose, and once again, there was no answer. As Claire taped another edge of the ribbon to the gift, she kept the faith that her mom wanted to talk to her, but maybe was so upset with her dad that her mom was either not accepting calls, had it turned off because she thought her dad would call her to fight, her cell phone didn't work, or she lost it.

When she heard her dad and Aunt Amanda talking in the other room, and smelled sauteing mushrooms, Claire brought the gift into the kitchen. Her dad was sitting at the counter stool with a beer in his hand while Amanda was mixing something in a silver bowl.

"She emerges," her dad joked as Claire sat on a stool.

"Are you hungry, honey?" Amanda asked, only turning her head to smile at her, then went back to putting together whatever it was she was making.

"Dad?" Claire presented the gift she had behind her back to him, having gathered the courage to bring up her mom in front of him. He had been touchy when conversations might turn to her mom, and didn't want to upset him, but wanted the gift to reach her hoping it wasn't too late. It could certainly be too late to get the gift to her mom for her birthday, but it could also be too late to have contact with her. Her mom could be so upset, or mad, that anything from her or her dad wouldn't be wanted.

"For me?" her dad smiled and took the package.

Before he had time to open, which Claire feared, she said, "No, it's for mom. It's her birthday soon."

Her dad and Amanda looked at each other, and Claire didn't know how to interpret their expressions.

Amanda said, "That's right..."

When her dad didn't say or do anything, Claire prodded, "Can you send this to her?"

"Yes," he said immediately. "In fact, I have something I could stick in the package as well."

That made Claire feel better; it gave her enough courage to ask for what would really be what she wanted. "Dad?"

"What?"

"Do you think we can go see Mom? I want to talk to her. If you can mail this," she fingered the present. "You know where she is."

"What about your art class?" her dad asked. She hadn't really enjoyed the old, wild haired man that was teaching her how to hold a brush for the last two days, and thought missing a few classes or stopping all together wouldn't be a bad idea. Her dad smiled "Yes. I'll call the airport for the next two seats to New York."

Claire flew to him and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, dad. You don't mind?"

"I give my girl what she wants," he said as he hugged her. She had been afraid to ask for what really was a simple gesture of going to see her mom, and now was pleased that it had gone so well. Her dad wasn't that mad at her mom, Claire just knew it. She also knew that one day, maybe quite soon, her mom and dad will get back together and her world would be right again.

Amanda said, "Make that three seats."

"You'll reimburse me, correct?" her dad asked her.

"Oh, poo," she replied, waving him away and going back to mixing the batter. "You have money to burn."

Claire was surprised, having not thought about money and cost of things before, and asked, "You do?"

~~~~~

Elizabeth didn't know if it was just the act of sitting down to a meal, savoring the light and fluffy pancakes, or that she had company to enjoy them, but Elizabeth was feeling much better. Duncan had opened all the drapes, called for maid service to clean the room while ordering Elizabeth to take a shower and clean up. When she had emerged from the shower, seeing the clean room and waiting meals, and Duncan's strength was easily influencing her to shape up.

Duncan asked pointed questions having to do with what she had been thinking lately and what her plans were. What her plans were, she hadn't a clue at the moment, as she had been living too close to the moment. She did relate, however, what she had been thinking, and hoped it didn't sound too goofy. "I've been talking to my parents, last night, or this morning... I've lost track of time lately."

Duncan patted and then held her hair as if it signal that he didn't think she was a flake. "What about?"

"I wanted to like channel mother to get advice about where I went wrong raising Claire. She was a perfect mother to me. Duncan, of all the ghosts to come to that damn house, why couldn't mother?"

"You didn't take her head?" he replied lightly.

They smiled, then cringed. "I asked her what I did wrong, how I could have let things go so far, what she'd do in my position."

"Did you get an answer?"

"Just that she wouldn't have been in that position. I can imagine what Daddy would say. He'd say, 'Swallow your pride, tulebuk. Tell him you're sorry.' Problem is, I did that and Methos told me to go to hell."

"Tulebuk?"

"That was his name for me. He said it meant 'little brook,' as I was talkative with a lot of energy. What's wrong with me?" She suddenly asked Duncan with a complete and utter disgust at herself. "I left my girl behind. How can she ever trust me again?"

Duncan seemed happy that she had come to that conclusion. He counseled, "You have to start doing something other than drinking and sleeping and figure out how to accomplish that. The first step could be to charge your cell phone."

"I need to get a new charger, I lost it somewhere."

"We'll go to the store after we eat."

"Simple solution."

"The best ones usually are."

"Why couldn't I think of that? I just took it personally that I didn't have it."

"That's what I'm here for."

"Why are you so nice to me?"

"You're my friend."

That he didn't say he loved her again meant that her actions of leaving everyone in Paris might have changed his mind. Not having to deal with romance when she had never felt less sensual made her feel even better. In fact, Elizabeth felt so energized that she asked him for Methos' phone number. "I only have Claire's cell number programmed into my cell phone and now can't even turn it on because it's dead."

Duncan wrote the number down on a piece of stationery, then dialed the number himself. Once the connection between international operators was made, he held out the phone for her. She was at a loss of what she would say, but took the phone with shaking hands. After a ring, there was a short click, then she heard, "This is Daniel Gordon, leave a message," then another beep.

Elizabeth hung up without leaving a message. "Answering machine. So short and sweet."

"Why didn't you leave a message? That's what they're for."

"I want to talk to Claire, not have any messages go through Methos. Do you have Claire's number?"

"I wasn't privy to it." He paused, then suggested, "Shape up, Liz. This is enough of feeling sorry for yourself. We're going to get that phone fixed, then we're going to work on you after you call your daughter."

"That's true. It is about time. I need a job, something to think about instead of myself."

"What kind of job?" he fostered her new excitement.

"I'd love to get back to teaching, even though Methos doesn't think I'm capable."

"Forget about Methos and what he said or what you think he thinks. Do this for yourself. Let's get you a teaching position."

"Just like that."

"Yes," he was matter-of-fact. "You need a resume, introduction letters, we can surf the web to find schools to send them to."

His enthusiasm was working on her, and she said, "Yes! I'll do that. I'm a damn good teacher!"

"We'll go to get you some good paper, not use St. Regis stationery, and-"

"Hondo! He can do it! Do you have a car?"

"No. Who's Hondo?"

"The scary looking guy Methos picked as best man at our wedding because he couldn't find you. You were off with Amanda somewhere, but were happy you made an appearance at the wedding."

"Those were happy times," he admitted, and Elizabeth wondered if he meant to say that.

"Duncan, don't cover your feelings for Amanda. I know you love her."

Since he didn't react to that, probably spent keeping up the appearance of not wanting her in his life anymore, she asked, "What about your life? I don't see your life in any kind of order, either. Are you keeping up the dojo? Doing anything but pining for Amanda in Paris?"

"I'm not 'pining'. It wouldn't work. She'd just do something again, and I'd feel like this. I hate it."

"Okay." Better not push the subject. Elizabeth was going to be completely selfish for a little while longer and get Duncan's head on helping her get her life in order, then she'd work overtime to do the same for him. She did another selfish thing and held him, just because it felt so good and he responded. Elizabeth hoped she never did anything to turn Duncan against her. She needed so much as a friend and ally. One day, she was going to return all the favors he had done for her. She didn't know how, but she would.

~~~~~

At Orly Airport, Methos, Amanda, and Claire were sitting in a bar-café as they had a three hour wait for the flight to New York. Methos calculated all the plane tickets he had purchased in the last three years between the two cities, and then thought it didn't matter. As Amanda had stated so boldly in front of Claire before they all packed up, he did have money to burn. He knew that Amanda was either coming with them because she was totally into motherhood because of Elizabeth's letter, or she wanted to see Duncan again, or she didn't like to be left out of anything. Regardless, Methos was happy she was had come along. She was wearing an exceptionally well-fitted green sweater and a pair of pants that looked painted on. Amanda certainly did know how to rise men's temperatures, and from the looks of males as they passed by on their way to flights, Methos was sure she dressed and primped herself to look in such a way that if Duncan got a glimpse of her, he couldn't help but fall for her all over again.

Amanda was looking at herself in her compact, then declared, "I'm going to the bathroom to freshen up. Do you need to go, Claire?"

When Claire said she didn't, Amanda collected her bag and stated, "I'll be back in a flash."

As Amanda sauntered away, Methos took the opportunity to look her over, as he knew that was her desire. She played her body for all it was worth to everyone caring to look in her direction, which was quite a few. Methos chuckled and sipped his beer.

That Duncan MacLeod was with Elizabeth was something that had tickled his thoughts once in a while, but never more so than now when he was so close to seeing them. Together. Methos had convinced himself that they were only together to spite him and Amanda, but when he now sipped his beer and let the concept actually take form in his head, he wasn't so sure about that. They always had a certain relationship that he hadn't truly understood. Not that he thought they had an affair behind his back, but his dreams of her always wanting Duncan to help her had to signal something. He let the thought he couldn't place rumble in his head. Dare he name it jealousy? Now that he could see the two of them up close and personal again, he wasn't so sure he wanted to. Methos had to remember that he was sorely disappointed in Elizabeth, could never trust his head around her again, she had done the unthinkable, and wasn't about to accept her part in the whole mess. No, it couldn't be. But, jealous emotions weren't ones that dealt with the head, it dealt only with the heart. Not wanting to be analytical, he just ordered another draft and asked if Claire needed a topper on her Coke.

Claire asked him, "Why order another beer, dad?"

As a wise old man once said, "Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy."

"I'd be happy if you didn't."

Methos looked at Claire's concerned face, and wondered if she actually thought him an alcoholic or something. "Fine. Miss?" he asked the waitress before she walked too far away with his order. He told her with good humor, "I'll have what my wise daughter is having."

"Thanks, dad. I just want you and mom to talk and everything to go right."

"Little One," he said, just before he would give her a lecture, and Claire's face revealed she knew one was coming. He was going to tell her that she shouldn't hope for too much and ease whatever pain she might experience in any form it would come to her. Instead, he told her, "I'll just leave the talking to you." He would only make it so that Claire could deliver her present and she could spend time with her mother. Why he was being so pliable about coddling their relationship was something he couldn't quite put his finger on, but he was sure it had to do with wanting Claire to be happy. Even though he didn't like that Duncan was with his wife, he knew that if he was around, nothing would happen to Claire in Elizabeth's presence. If something did go wrong, not only would he stop this confounding flexibility he was performing, but both Duncan MacLeod and Elizabeth might lose their heads. Ball was in her court. It was up to her to make or break her relationship with Claire. He didn't want anyone to say he stopped any kind of connection between them. Methos would make Elizabeth the 'bad guy'.

~~~~~

Duncan had no idea how much Elizabeth needed to find direction in her life and how easily she started to focus on doing everything she could to make her life stable enough to share custody of her daughter. It pleased him to think that his influence put her back on the road to recovery, and almost had to run to catch up with her. She packed almost immediately, not leaving anything behind in the hotel, not even the things she had taken with her from Kent and had kept in the safe and storage room at the hotel until she returned from her visit with Claire in Paris. They had gone to the nearest car rental agency, got themselves a Lexus, packed the trunk, and were now zooming into the now dark night to Philadelphia.

He had suggested that she could pick up a charger for her phone, but Elizabeth had mentioned they had cell phones in Philadelphia and would pick one up there. Duncan had gotten the distinct impression that she was ready to put the pieces of her life together, but wasn't yet ready to talk to Claire. A cold telephone conversation where she wouldn't be able to read her face could be the explanation for it, and was probably scared she would say the wrong thing.

"So," she said, breaking the silence as they hadn't talked since entering New Jersey and hadn't turned the radio on. "What are you going to do once I get the ball rolling in my life?"

"I haven't really thought about it," Duncan admitted. "It's been pretty eventful since the holidays."

"Yes, indeed. I don't know what's coming for me, and like to think that the world is my oyster, what would be the best thing for you in the years to come?"

"I guess I'll be a wanderer for a while until I find a place I like."

Elizabeth chuckled. "That's distinctly vague."

"It's my plan. If Amanda's in Paris, I'm not going to stay there too long."

"Duncan," Elizabeth moaned. "If you just give her-"

He continued as if not interrupted. "I've been in Seacouver too long. After twenty years, it's time to move on."

"You're going to sell the dojo to that guy?"

"More than likely. He's already opened it with the agreement that when I get to town we'll figure out a price."

"When are you going?"

"When I get there. I have other things to do now, and he isn't in a hurry either. He's getting financing. That takes time."

"I still think you're selling it because of memories of Amanda."

"I'm selling it because I've been in Seacouver long enough to lay low for a while."

Elizabeth groused and looked out the passenger side window. "You can't possibly take me and Amanda breaking up that seriously," he told her.

"You and Amanda broke up, Methos and I broke up, Sofia and Antonio are dead. Cassandra and Ian can't be found. At least Warren and Brynn and Robert and Gina are happy."

A lot had happened to the couples they knew in the past five years. But, he pointed out, "I know where Cassandra is. She's in London, and still very happy with Ian."

"What is she doing?"

"Why?"

"Conversation," Elizabeth replied as if answering the delicate question was an interrogation. "We were friends once. It was Methos who made it impossible for us to continue that friendship. Might have been a big mistake. I've made a lot of mistakes."

"I'll give you her number. Maybe we can go to London and visit her." He wondered if she'd pick up the thinly veiled invitation for them to continuing sharing their lives in whatever form it would take.

Elizabeth laughed. "Yeah, that's all I'd need. Methos doesn't need to think I looked her up to get a 'soul sister' who hates him as much as he thinks I hate him."

"Methos again," he said.

"What about him?"

"It's amazing how you don't want to talk about him, but you bring him up at every opportunity."

"He's the father of my child, who I want back. I have to think about him."

"Is there more than that? You're so sure I still love Amanda, have you thought about your feelings for your husband?"

"The last time I saw my husband, it shook me to my bones. He knows exactly which buttons to push, and he was masterful. No, how can I love a man who did that?"

"Well, Amanda lied to me, took the head of a friend with no explanation, quite possibly no reason other than it saved her own ass, and I'm tired of it."

"Okay. Point taken. I'll not mention it again."

"Thank you. It would make things much easier."

Duncan noticed Elizabeth staring at him, and he asked, "What?"

"Why would not mentioning Amanda make things easier?"

Duncan sighed and told her, "Because mentioning how much she's disappointed me, after all the love I've given her, it makes me mad, okay?"

"Kay."

"I'm not longer in love with her."

"Kay."

"As soon as you get on your feet, I'm seeing about ending our marriage."

"Fine."

"It would also be nice if you spoke in words more than one syllable."

"You were on a roll there, I didn't want to interrupt you."

Duncan felt irritation rise, then looked to her to see her smiling. "We are quite a pair, aren't we?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're still speaking in monosyllabics."

Duncan chuckled and took hold of her hand. He was pleased that she squeezed his hand and kept hold of it. He had wanted to bring up the fact that they had each declared love to each other, but thought now wasn't the time. Instead, they fell into a silence again watching the traffic on the interstate. To his surprise, she said, "You know that I do love you very much, right?"

Guarded, he knew she did have deep feelings for him, but what those feelings were and how that love was categorized was what had given him some sleepless nights. He asked, "But what kind of love?"

"The only love I can at the moment." She continued holding his hand as she looked at him and confessed, "I'm not good in relationships. I get bored, or pissed, or possessive, and... the one I did have, that I thought would last forever... fooled me. I do love you, Duncan, but I can't lose your friendship."

Friends. That was what would always come first for them. That was fine. For the moment. He could live with it. For now.

There was a green information sign indicating that Philadelphia was fifty miles away. Elizabeth said, "God, I hope he's still in business and not in prison or dead or anything. I really need papers and 'proper' identification from Hondo before I lose my energy for it."

"Where is his shop?"

"Near the Liberty Bell. I hope I can find it, it's been a while since Methos brought me there. But, he would be in the book."

"A guy like Hondo would have a listed phone number?"

"As John Morris. Not sure if there's an address, but if I get a hold of him, he should remember me."

"How could anyone forget you?"

"You sweet talker, you." Elizabeth giggled. "Don't think I don't appreciate it. I'm sure it's not every day he's a best man at a wedding, that didn't involve bikers or something, so he might remember me. He told me once I look like a Mary Anderson."

"No way. Too plain."

"How's Elizabeth Bennett?"

"Not going with Elizabeth Gordon? Not even for Claire's sake?"

"I have to something for myself, and leaving behind a name that wasn't even my husband's is the first step."

"Why Bennett?"

"It's like my maiden name. I'm comfortable with it. It was at least legally, legitimately mine at one time. One brief time."

Instead of allowing Elizabeth's mind to drift back to the past where she couldn't change and make her want a drink again, Duncan decided to refocus her to the present. "John Morris. If I remember him right, he doesn't look like a John Morris."

"I have the sneaking feeling that's not his real name."

"What a surprise."

~~~~~

"I can't believe it. God wouldn't be that cruel, not to me. Not to one of his own! How dare you!" Al Cartwright screamed to the ceiling as he sat in his teak wood and leather study in his home in Seacouver. He looked out at the setting sun over the ocean and wondered how the hell he could be dying while ratbastard immortals infested the earth. It wasn't at all fair. The nagging cough he'd had for over two months made him finally stay in one place long enough to get a checkup, and just returned home with the news. Lung cancer. Inoperable lung cancer. Six months. That's all I get while pests like Duncan MacLeod had been alive for over 400 years.

"It's not fair!" he yelled again, throwing his glass of scotch across the room. To ease his mood, he slid his ink blotter off the desk. With it went his brass lamp, penholder, paper clips, and his prized golf ball signed by Tiger Woods. To get rid of even more pent up energy, he pushed over this antique teak desk, and almost fell with it as it was a heavier than he expected. Coughs raged as his lungs felt on fire. He could feel himself losing air as all he could do was cough to ease his physical pain.

His maid, Wynonna, rushed into the room with his oxygen tank and tried to help him up. He continued to cough as he tried to wave her away. Since Wynonna was a big Hispanic woman who didn't take no for an answer easily, he was helped into his leather armchair and she strapped his oxygen tube under his nose and behind his head.

The coughs subsided, thankfully, and he glared at Wynonna. "Happy now?"

"No really, Mr. Cartwright," she said huffily. "Who do you think has to clean up this mess?"

"You!" he yelled, but it only made him cough more mucus up. He didn't like the look in her eyes as she stared down at him as if he was a child. "Just leave."

"You don't pay me enough, boss," she said, shaking her head, and leaving, closing the door behind her.

Wynonna was all he really had left. He'd better be more careful around her. He saw a gold framed picture that had fallen off his desk, and he got to his knees to get it. Because his oxygen cord wasn't long enough, he felt like the skin under his oxygen tube was peeling off as his head snapped back. He grabbed the tank cart and moved it closer to the desk, taking deep breaths of the clear oxygen seeping into his nose.

He sat down on the carpeting, the contents from the top of his desk around him, then picked up the wedding picture of his only daughter. It was at her reception that his wife left him. Yeah, sure. "I took care of her for thirty years, and she leaves me now. Now when I need her."

He hadn't thought that Natasha, his daughter's professor and whom he had carried on a two year affair, would come to the wedding, and they hadn't thought they'd bow to temptation, and Al certainly didn't think his wife would walk in on them. He shouldn't have gone at all. He should have used the excuse of work to keep him away.

Work. He had worked for the secret world-wide organization for forty years, and now what good did it do him? Just when the Watchers would get word of a beheaded immortal, the next day there would be reports of one or two more turning. The damn Gathering was never going to happen. Not unless he had something to do with it.

Cartwright stared at the face of his daughter on her wedding day, the last time she spoke to him, with a bun in the oven. She should be grateful he shelled out the dough for her 'utopian' wedding. He should have made her get hitched in front of a judge, the ungrateful little brat. His family wondered why he was at work so much. Stupid question! "I had them to go home to. What did they expect?"

He had been telling his small band of Hunters that they had all the time in the world to take care of Duncan MacLeod and his circle of friends. As it turned out, with the news that he only had six months to live, time wasn't what they had at all.

Cartwright sifted through the mess on the floor and found his laptop, the modem still connected to the phone line. He sat it upright, opened it, and turned it on, hoping that it was charged. He didn't know if he had enough strength to find the plug in to charge it. When it started, and he saw that the battery was 90% full, Cartwright took it as a sign that his plan was to be. He opened his encrypted, secure email program and loaded all the addresses of his band of minions. He would send them an emergency message:

Al Cartwright shut off his laptop and was about to holler for Wynonna to help him to his bedroom. Not wanting to be annoyed by the prickly Hispanic, he decided he was feeling well enough to get to his bed for a good night's sleep on his own accord.

Continued