THE ELIZABETH SERIES

CHAPTER SEVENTY

WORKING IT

by JoLayne

RATING: PG

CHARACTERS: Methos, Duncan, Amanda, Amy, OC's Elizabeth, Claire, Nick, Megan, Mike, Guy, Joey, Katie Rose

SUMMARY: The Immortals are finally reunited in New York City.

DISCLAIMER: All characters and concepts you recognize from Highlander: The Series are owned by Panzer/Davis, and maybe Greg Widen. Just using them for fun, no profit is expected or pursued.

~~~~~

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 2013

"The Beatles were visionaries back in the 60's, and remarkably, they still hold up today," Duncan commented as he drove him and Elizabeth to New York City after he had heard from the Weather Service that the road conditions had improved sufficiently for travel.

As a way to forget all their troubles the previous day, Elizabeth had brought Duncan to Patty's, home of the honest to goodness, authentic Philly Beefsteak sandwich, then to the Bijou for Beatles night, which included showings of the Beatles films, A Hard Day's Night, Help!, Yellow Submarine, and Let It Be.

"The Beatles rock. Always have, always will." Elizabeth offered her bag of Cool Ranch Doritoes, the perfect traveling food, to Duncan, who shook his head and turned up The Red Album that she had bought after they left the theater; before the airing of Let It Be. With all the troubles they had been going through in their own lives, Elizabeth had wanted to enjoy the genius of the Beatles, not see them argue at a time she knew the band was moments away from breaking-up.

As they sang along to We Can Work It Out, Elizabeth eyed the butterfly tattoo on the back of Duncan's hand as he held onto the steering wheel. She stopped singing to chuckle. "Good thing we didn't seek out this Rodney person Hondo mentioned, huh? Wouldn't want to think that was permanent."

Duncan lifted his hand and scrutinized the blue and yellow butterfly transfer Elizabeth had put on his hand the evening before as they were crashing after a full night. "I don't know," Duncan mused aloud. "It's truly me, isn't it?"

"A butterfly? Don't tell me you actually like it. It was a joke, Mr. MacLeod."

"All of us. Immortals. We transform as if from a chrysalis, from mortal to immortal upon our first death. We fly around the world, a lot, take in beauty, try not to get caught."

"I'd rather be caught by a net than another immortal."

Duncan paused as his eyes flitted from the butterfly to the snowy road ahead of them. "Yeah, I'm stretching it. Butterflies don't kill each other."

Silence fell in the rented car as the CD ended and neither one reached to start it over again or put in the other CD of the set. Elizabeth felt like she was going to have trouble breathing again, and just waited for the sweat to pour down her back; she felt shaken by Duncan's words. Sure, the Gathering was always in the future for all immortals, and that's when all immortal friendships, loves, and ties would unravel, but she had almost taken the head of the one immortal she loved above all else and had wanted to spend the rest of her days with. The girl that they were rushing back through the recently plowed roads to see was also going to be immortal one day, hopefully when she was young, spry, smart, and capable of taking care of herself.

Elizabeth lifted a shaky hand to her face to feel herself flush. She had really ruined it all. Methos was the love of her life and she failed him and his trust. They'd more than likely still be together if she hadn't almost brought a sword blade down upon his sleeping form. Thank God he woke up, she mumbled. She didn't know how she could ever live with herself if he hadn't. Certainly, she wouldn't be able to accept his quickening. She had always told him that she wanted her quickening with him, and for the life of her, she couldn't remember what his reaction had been. During the time of his prophetic dream that her head would be taken, when it didn't happened for months and months, she had prepared herself to die. She had hoped that Methos would hunt down and kill whoever it was that had taken her head so that she would eventually end up with him forever. Actually, in some quiet moments when she was at peace with her baby and the love of her life, she had the thought she would just offer her head to him to rid them of the tension wondering when/if it would happen brought. During those happy months with that sword hanging over their heads, Elizabeth had accepted her fate, and she was ready to go on to the next world, whatever that might be.

During that awful morning in Kent, Methos never had the chance to make peace with the world or come to terms with his regrets, failures, and accomplishments as she had been able to, not knowing that his end was close at hand. Feelings of deep regret rumbled through her body as she tried to picture what life would be like without him in it. All she could do was cry for Claire. That she had almost been without her father was just too much to take in, especially since the reason would have been because her mother took his head. There was so much Claire didn't understand. Not only in the immortal world, but she was still too young to even grasp the idiosyncracies of mortal adult life, fates, hopes, disappointments. She very much needed her father's guidance through her troubled teenage years that were soon to be upon them.

Wondering if there was still a chance for her and Methos to work things out weighed on her. The fact that he had flown Claire to New York to see her could be an indication that with a little time, and a lot of work, things could go back to the way they were. Or if not that, at least there could be a new life they could forge together. The three of them. As Methos had claimed many times throughout their marriage, it was the three of them against the world. He also claimed that he only felt alive when he was with her, that he had never loved anyone as much as he loved her. Loved. For the rest of time, Methos might think of Elizabeth only in the past tense.

She was scared yet excited to see him, if only to see what his reaction to her would be. Would he leave Claire alone with her, having fulfilled his part of bringing them together and hit the road, having his fill for a while of raising a child alone and now it was her turn? Would he welcome her? Would he stay and talk to her? Hold her? Kiss her? For the first time in a long while, Elizabeth wanted to be consumed by Methos. She wanted to hear his voice, match his gaze, feel his warmth, love him, take care of him again.

More than ever, she wanted her life and loves back, and she had no idea how in the world to even start to achieve that insurmountable goal. Yep, she had screwed things up royally, and never before felt so ashamed of what she had done.

~~~~~

Duncan had meant to restart the CD, but Elizabeth seemed to be lost in thought, and the quiet was peaceful for him as well. The roads were a bit icy under the recently plowed snow, and the whiteness from the accumulation of snow had brightened the sun's reflection. What he'd give for a pair of sunglasses. He looked at his watch and realized they were making good time. They should be in New York by noon, as planned.

His eyes didn't leave his black and gold Girard Perregaux watch with a face that showed two time zones (almost a prerequisite for a mobile immortal), with a hand-stitched crocodile strap that Amanda had given to him the last Valentine's Day they had spent together. He had told her that spending almost $10,000 US on a watch was a bit silly, but when she argued that she could do whatever she wanted with her money, and he was sure she hadn't stolen it, he had been quite pleased to put it on his wrist.

Stunned at his thought process, he wondered if he now recalled how he got that watch because it was Valentine's Day once again. He knew that he would surely lay eyes on Amanda again in a few hours, and he didn't know if he was truly ready for that. Try as he might, he hadn't been able to get that tigress out of his heart and mind even though she had betrayed one of his friends for nothing more than material gain. Maybe he would be able to set all that aside, or he would want to tear her limb from limb for making him feel this way. He hated being played, and Amanda seemed to spend her life playing him for one innocuous or malicious reason or another. He knew he wasn't ready to take on any of her shenanigans again, but there were times when he was trying to sleep, flipping through the channels on the TV, waiting for Elizabeth while she was with Hondo, or listening to Elizabeth talk that her voice would melt into Amanda's. He could hear her laugh, which would come to mind in an instant, and have to smile. Amanda had a great laugh, an even better chuckle, and a heart-stopping purr.

~~~~~

NEW YORK CITY

"Yes, she's on her way here, Claire," Methos said for the umpteenth time in the last half hour.

Claire had been bustling around the suite since awaking to the news that her mother was coming to see her. At first, it made Methos glad that he had made the right decision to bring Claire here as he loved to see her happy. Now her behavior was just annoying. She had taken a bath and washed her hair without being told, tried on her entire wardrobe to find the right thing to wear, and kept asking for his opinion, as if he actually cared what she wore. She had made her own bed even though they were in a hotel. She tried at least five different hairstyles before finally deciding on a 'princess pony,' as she had called the hairdo since she was three. It consisted of her hair in the back left long and wavy and the top pulled back into a pony tail. She had even made sure that she had ringlets left on each side of her face and the waves were exactly proportional with the help of Amanda's curling iron.

Now she was looking out the window to the street, Methos was sure scrutinizing each and every cab that stopped in front of the St. Regis waiting for Elizabeth to disembark. Gods, he didn't want Claire to be disappointed. One never knew which Elizabeth would show up; would she be the loving mother or head-hunting immortal.

"Do you have the package, Dad?" she asked, but never turning away from her sniper's perch at the window.

"You were going to give it to her for her birthday. Three days away."

"But it's Valentine's Day. You should give her something."

"Not a chance," he muttered as he walked to the fridge for the rest of the orange juice. "Don't get your hopes up, Claire."

"Why?"

He saw that she had turned away from the window. "Mom wants to see me, doesn't she?"

"I've long since stopped trying to dissect your mother's wants and motives."

"I want her to be my mom again."

"Take one step at a time; if you have some grand notion of how this is going to play out, you might be disappointed."

Claire's demeanor slumped. That wasn't what Methos wanted, he just did not want her to have the grand reunion played out in her head and her mother wouldn't possibly be able to live up to it. Quietly, Claire said, "She knows I didn't mean it. I was upset. She knows I don't hate her, doesn't she? We were so happy once."

Methos stretched his neck to work out a kink from either sleeping wrong or agitation that had built up just talking about her mother. Claire's round brown eyes never fluctuated from her stare at him as she said, "Maybe I'd like my real parents better," she said as she stalked back to her room.

"Hey," Methos called as he followed her; her flippant comment came totally out of the blue.

Claire sat down at the vanity and sulked, picking hairs from her brush. As she met his eyes in the mirror, she shrugged. Blasted kids. She must be starting puberty early; he had read the horror stories about it and expected the day to come where she wouldn't make sense, would want the world, everything her way, or mope around. 'A phase' was what many so called experts call it, and Methos had always thought he could get around it by including Claire in things, by making her enjoy life and be a part of it, not feel like she was on the outskirts and didn't belong.

"You only have the two of us for parents, me mostly. Live with it."

Claire threw the brush down and crossed her arms in front of her and pouted in the way that she had perfected over her short years of life.

"My, my, my," he retorted. He didn't continue until she looked at him again. Granted it was in the reflection of the mirror, but it was good enough and had taken long enough to happen. All sorts of thoughts ran through his head and he had almost spouted a litany of reasons why mentioning her nonexistent biological parents was a completely stupid thing for her to say.

"You don't like the life we've led together? I haven't done enough for you? I haven't given you everything you've asked for?"

"I want Mom."

"You're getting her!" he replied. "She's on her way here."

"But she's... she's just going to visit. Dad, I want my family again."

Methos shook his head with wonder. "I can't believe your thought process, Little One. A week ago you never wanted to see her again, two seconds ago, you wanted different parents all together!"

"Mom explained in the letter that you took what she said wrong. She only wanted to protect me."

"I didn't interpret her words, I was just repeating them."

"Wrongly!"

"How in the hell did all this become my fault? I woke up one morning to your sainted mother holding a sword over my head. That's when things went to hell. You talk to her about that."

"I will!" Claire's eyebrows furrowed as she was obviously taking it in. "A sword? But... Mom... when she was teaching me fencing in California, she said to never use your sword as a weapon."

"Surprise, surprise. She didn't take her own advice." Methos remembered the folly of teaching Claire fencing, to ready her for the life ahead of her, but mostly because Claire asked about the swords in the closet. Mercifully, Claire lost interest in it at the time. He didn't want her to have to train before she was ready; he wanted her to have a life. A good life. Happy life. Normal life. Well, as normal as two immortals could make it for her. There would be a day when Claire would take up a sword again, and have to know how to use it, but that time was years ahead.

"Daddy?" Claire asked meekly, so softly that Methos was drawn out of his thoughts and realized just how fragile his daughter was.

"What, Little One?" He sat on the bed behind her and drew his arm around her shoulder feeling he had to protect her.

"I won't be disappointed, will I? I mean... Mom does love me, doesn't she?"

Methos paused not wanting to spout his first reaction that everything about his wife had confused him, and revealing that he didn't know what the hell she felt or thought as of late. He felt an immortal presence as Claire got up and sat next to him on the bed and rested her head against his shoulder. He drew her in and looked to the door to see if Elizabeth had indeed arrived.

Amanda folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the doorframe. "Of course she does, sweetie. She'll tell you that."

She was wearing a long, flowing, flowered, brown and yellow skirt, a shapeless white blouse, and nondescript brown ankle boots. Amanda had to have just had her hair done as it was a different shade of brown and a bit shorter, a bob with her hair tucked back behind her ears. If he didn't know any better, Methos would assume she was a librarian or a candidate for a convent. The thought made him chuckle, and said, "Playing it a bit thick, aren't you?"

Claire lifted her head. "What?"

"Not you," he told her. He tilted his head to Amanda. "Her."

Claire grimaced. "What are you wearing, Aunt Mandy?"

"You don't like it?" Amanda asked as she surveyed her costume. "I just bought it, was going to try a new look."

"So Mac will look upon you with different eyes?" Methos inquired with a smile. "He'd have to get a cornea transplant not to see the real you under that camouflage."

"I wanted to look pretty, but not too pretty, you know." She stomped her foot because of their reaction, and said, "At least I tried. Are you going to wear that sweater that looks like you ripped it off the body of King Kong and those jeans you've been wearing for three days straight?"

"I don't wear the same pants three days in a row. Leave me alone." He shook his head at the two females, each looking at themselves in the vanity mirror and was going to respond when the phone rang. Claire and Amanda both bolted out of the bedroom as he answered it, then muttered acknowledgment to the desk clerk and said, "You can send them up," and hung up. He turned to them and announced, "Elizabeth and Duncan are on their way up. Let the primping continue."

~~~~~

Elizabeth's heart was in her throat as they rode up in the elevator, then she felt a tickle of comfort when Duncan's fingers reached for hers. She smiled up at him, took a deep breath and squeezed his hand. When he smiled back and gave her a 'have courage, it'll be all right' look, she kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for everything, Mr. MacLeod. I don't know what I'd have done without you."

He put his arm around her and said, "Ah, you'd have been all right."

"No way. I'd still be a puddly mess of gloom and doom." She pointed to her suitcase and backpack. "I never would have gotten my cell phone charged..." She shook her head with contempt for how incompetent she had been. "Couldn't even figure out how to charge a phone... I just took it personally. And I'd never have thought to call Hondo."

"You did that yourself. I didn't have anything to do with that."

"But you got my head to the place where it needed to be to help myself and get a life. Just take the compliment and say 'you're welcome,' please."

"My pleasure, madam."

The elevator doors opened, and the sign indicating rooms 850 to 899 were to the right. Duncan had given her a squeeze then took hold of her suitcase as he stepped out of the elevator. "What if she hates me still?" Elizabeth asked as another attack of panic hit her.

Duncan turned around in the hall, and Elizabeth could tell by how he rolled his head that she shouldn't have anything to worry about, but she couldn't help it. So much had happened while she was away. She had no idea what Methos was telling Claire after Claire had screamed she didn't want anything to do with her anymore. That she hated her mother. Just remembering those words made Elizabeth clutch onto the railing of the elevator even more.

"Liz, they're-" Duncan said as the elevator doors closed. She saw him drop his bag and try to stop it with his hand, but the doors were clamped together, and Elizabeth was in a whirl as to what to do to open them again. She pushed what she thought was the 8^th floor button to open it again, but instead, she had pushed 12, just under the 8.

She punched the wall and started crying as the elevator lifted. "I can't even walk out of a Goddamned elevator!"

Elizabeth's head fell as she waited, planning how to shake off the embarrassment of walking into Methos' suite after they had a good laugh at her expense. The elevator passed nine, then ten. Then the doors opened. Before the waiting couple could enter the elevator, she jumped out, butting shoulders with the woman. The couple entered, giving her an evil eye. "Well," Elizabeth yelled at them. "Etiquette states that people should exit before people enter. It's not my fault." Then she spotted her backpack against the back wall. "Wait!" She put her hands out to stop the doors from closing. The doors popped open, and Elizabeth hurriedly got hold of her backpack strap and backed out again.

"What a bitch," the woman commented to her man, which made Elizabeth's blood boil, but the doors closed and if she hollered it would be at noone, the hallway was empty . She slung her backpack over her shoulder and took a deep breath. She took a tissue out of her coat pocket and wiped her eyes and the sweat from the back of her neck. Her cold hands felt good against her skin, so she took a moment to gather herself, breathing deeply to get calmed down.

~~~~~

ARIZONA

Megan's sweaty hand was on the door handle in the back of Mike's van, working up the courage to accomplish what Nick wanted her to do, and he had quite a list. Nick was sitting against the wall in the back full of technical equipment and Mike was at his laptop which was connected by satellite to the internet. When she walked into Headquarters, her neck could conceivably be on the line. Whoever decided to take Nick out could very well turn on her as well.

Nick, probably noting her hesitance, told her, "Get a trace of the email if there is any, find out where Amy Barstow is and also where her husband is, and question Leon about anything that's happened while you were in California for that meeting, but don't act like you're interrogating him. Just talk to him like you always do."

"I know, I know," Megan told him in order to get him off her back. "I know what I need to do. Just wish I had a bullet proof vest."

Nick smiled and his eyes showed genuine concern. "It's your head you have to watch. You know how they like to put one right between the eyes for a quick, painless death."

"I hate your humor."

"I'm not trying to be funny."

"Well, you're not. You should be telling me that everything will be fine, no one knows that we have any connection."

Nick grabbed her hand. "Hey, you have to be careful. Thanks for doing this, I'll never be able to repay you, and you will probably be just fine flying under the radar, but someone took a shot at me, you have to watch your back."

"I know. I'm going now and get it over with."

"No, don't take that attitude or you'll make a mistake. Be careful, don't do anything foolish, and get out of there as quickly as possible."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Megan mocked as she opened the back door.

"What the fucking fuck?!" Mike exclaimed, making Megan slam the door shut.

"What?"

Mike pointed to the monitor of his laptop, and Megan and Nick both positioned themselves so they could see what Mike had found. What she saw on the newspaper's web site was the obituary for Nicholas Hartford, who was tragically killed in a drive-by shooting in his apartment parking garage. Mike turned to look at Nick. "You're right. That was no mugging."

"You finally believe me. My employers can make anything happen."

"Who are they again?" Mike asked.

"Why would they want your obit in the paper?" Megan asked at the same time.

Nick answered Megan, "I have no earthly idea."

"Maybe they really think you're dead."

"Even if they did, obits aren't usually placed by employers."

"Well, I just got off a plane last night and came right to work, so I haven't seen it. I'll see if Leon has, and... if he misses you at all." She smiled to see Nick's reaction, which was stern concentration.

He squeezed her hand and stared into her eyes. "You watch that pretty red head of yours."

As Megan got out of the back of the van, she heard Mike ask again, "Who is it you work for?"

~~~~~

Elizabeth had found the stairs and walked back down to the eighth floor. Instead of berating herself, as was her natural instinct, about how stupid it was not to get off the elevator with Duncan, and then pushing the wrong button, she decided to just buck up and play the fool for them all. "Playing the fool isn't a stretch for me," she told herself encouragingly. Duncan had taught her of late that if you can't laugh at herself, you won't find much humor anywhere else.

"Humor is needed to live, right?" she asked herself as she stood before door 846 and felt immortal sensations weave through her entire being. Before she could knock, the door opened, and she was face to face with Methos.

Good God! She almost verbalized as she looked her husband over. It would be so much easier to accept the end of her marriage if he didn't look so damn gorgeous. He wasn't sneering at her either, which was a good sign. But, as soon as the door was open and they locked eyes for a brief moment, Methos backed into the suite saying something. She assumed it was for her to come in, but she wasn't paying attention. Her sight was the only sense working at the moment. Can that man fit into tighter jeans? It was a pair she had bought him in California before he filled out from tending horses. He always was one to hang on to clothes, and he wore them until they wore out.

She heard Duncan chuckle and say, "Glad you finally made it."

He was standing by the door, and Amanda, looking as luminous as always was standing just behind him. "I thought I'd take the scenic route," Elizabeth joked and shrugged off the embarrassment. The reason why she was there still needed to be seen, so she walked in to find her. For a moment, she wondered if Methos had left Claire behind in Paris, or if she didn't actually want to see her mother and was hiding in the bedroom.

"Amanda," Elizabeth nodded to her and got a smile and nod in return.

"Good to see you again."

"Really?"

Amanda smirked, then shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

She cleared her throat and turned to look behind her at a bedroom doorway. When Amanda turned back, Duncan closed the door, and Amanda said, "Thanks for the letter. That was quite an eye opener."

"I meant every word."

"I know you did. I appreciated it."

Then Amanda stepped back after Duncan took her arm to get out of the way, and Elizabeth locked eyes on her daughter. Immediately, Elizabeth started to tear up from joy at seeing that beautiful girl, wearing what seemed to be her best clothes, her hair was adorable. Her face and body held a hesitant position though. Claire was alternating between holding her hands demurely in front of her to holding her arms straight down at the sides.

"Mom?" Claire said so softly, Elizabeth wasn't sure she actually heard it.

"Claire, you..." Elizabeth's voice caught, but she cleared her throat and said, "I'm so happy to see you."

Claire's face burst into a smile and she ran into her arms. "You've grown." The top of Claire's head was now equal to Elizabeth's cheek, her shoulders had gotten wider, and she could definitely feel the start of breasts on her little girl. It had only been a couple of weeks since she had last seen Claire, but those weeks seemed like a lifetime. Elizabeth kissed her head and pulled her face back to see her girl as if for the first time. "You're growing into such a beautiful young lady."

"I have so much to tell you, Mom," Claire said. Her cheeks were starting to blush and her brown eyes were turning red. Elizabeth hoped that she was going to cry because of the same happiness she herself felt, and not because she had been talked into welcoming her mother back. When Elizabeth noticed Methos by the window, she realized that he wouldn't have talked Claire into the reunion, it had to be Claire's idea, which couldn't have made Elizabeth happier.

"I can't wait to hear it, honey, and there are things I want to say to you as well."

Mother and daughter held each other as tears feel; Elizabeth didn't want to let Claire go, wanting this moment of happiness to last as long as it possibly could; she hadn't felt this good in a long time.

She heard Duncan say, "I'm going to take my bag to my room. Should I drop yours off too while you and Claire talk?"

Elizabeth sniffed back her tears and turned to Duncan behind her. "Yeah. That would be great."

"You two got a room together?" Methos asked.

"No," Elizabeth quickly responded. "Separate rooms. In fact, Duncan's on the eleventh floor, and I'm on the third."

Methos showed no emotion, but Elizabeth spotted Amanda's smile that she covered up before Duncan looked at her. Elizabeth pulled one of the two key cards to her room out of her coat pocket and handed it to Duncan. "That would be great. Thanks."

Amanda immediately picked up Elizabeth's suitcase. "I'll help you with the bags."

Duncan laughed. "That's a first."

"There's no telling what the lady will do when she's on the prowl," Methos offered, to Amanda's annoyance.

"I do need to talk to you," Duncan told his wife.

Amanda's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yes. We have some things to discuss." He turned to Elizabeth, still holding Claire, to say, "You know my room number? Call me later."

"I will. Thanks, Duncan."

"Bye, Maconi," Claire said with a grin.

Duncan winced, but smiled at her and opened the door for Amanda. "See you later, Dan, Liz, Little One," she said as she almost bounced out the door before Duncan followed her.

"Dad?" Claire asked.

Methos turned from the window with his eyebrows raised. "Hm?"

"Can you leave too? I want to talk to Mom."

Elizabeth could see Methos' dismay, and said, "Claire. He can stay. That's all right."

"I was never fond of being the third wheel," Methos said as he walked past a bookcase slowly. He hovered there, and Elizabeth assumed he was going to pull a book from the shelf. She took Claire's hand and brought her over to the couch.

"You don't have to leave, Daniel." In fact, she didn't want him to. If someone was there so Elizabeth didn't have to carry on the conversation, she wouldn't say anything wrong again. Being able to talk to Claire freely would be great, but not right away when the events of the last month made their relationship so tenuous.

She looked back at Methos, who held a book in his hand, as he said, "I'll be downstairs in the coffee shop."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Thank you, Daniel. But again, you don't have to go," Elizabeth hoped she didn't sound too eager for him to stay, he may take it wrong. She wanted him to stay to referee, but not know that's what his position would be as he would think she couldn't talk to her daughter. She can and will, but needed time. She needed to find out just how Claire felt about everything, and she still didn't know what Claire needed to tell her.

~~~~~

Methos walked down the hallway until he was out of Elizabeth's sensing range, then noticed he was at the stairwell, which he slipped into and pushed the door closed even though it was hooked to a hydraulic. He paused to listen for anyone on the metal stairs on any floor. There was a click of heels below him, and the concrete walls seemed to amplify them to sound closer than they were. A door shut a few floors below and then there was silence. He walked down a half flight and set the book down at his side as he took a seat on the step. He pulled out the receiver he had purchased when the storm quit and he had noticed an electronic store was open down the block from the hotel. He knew that Elizabeth hadn't noticed that he flipped the monitor on, which was situated behind a row of books on the shelf. She was too rapt up in looking at Claire. The sight of the two of them reunited went both ways for Methos. He was glad they were together again because he had at one time loved Liz and wanted, until his dying day, Claire to be happy, but he was also apprehensive about how Elizabeth would react to whatever it was that Claire wanted to tell her. He would have been upset to have been asked to leave so Claire could tell Elizabeth something important, but now with the eavesdropper, he didn't need to be.

He clicked it on and all he heard was static. The fact that he was surrounded by nothing but metal could be the culprit, but it could also be because he hadn't tested it out. He had only put batteries in the receiver and seen the red light come on when he flipped it on, then turned it off right away when Claire had walked in the room.

He fiddled with the tuning button until the static ebbed, and then amongst the crackle he heard Claire's voice. "I have some friends, but as soon as I get to like where I am, we have to move again. I don't want to move anymore."

Methos wondered if that was the big announcement Claire had for Elizabeth. She hadn't ever mentioned that to Methos, but it wasn't a stretch to figure that would be Claire's opinion on the vagabond lifestyle she'd led. He listened intently, wondering how Elizabeth would turn the conversation to how awful her father was, as was par for the course lately. Elizabeth had said something, but he couldn't make it out. He turned up the volume and held the receiver close to his ear as he closed his eyes to concentrate on their voices.

"Why do we move all the time? I had a friend a while ago, I forget where, who had a dad in the military, and he was transferred a lot. I can see that, but Dad doesn't work. Neither of you work."

"Your father is a writer, and I'm about to change my unemployment status."

"Dad's a writer?" Claire asked incredulously.

There was a pause before Elizabeth responded, "He's written two textbooks."

Methos grimaced. They were written under the name of David Sommers, who was a total stranger to Claire.

"If he's a writer, why can't we stay in one place?"

"Look, Claire. Your father is giving you the world. You've seen, done, experienced more in your young life than most eleven year olds, not to mention adults, could ever dream of. Aren't you happy?"

"I don't want to have to make new friends all the time. It's hard."

"Oh, come on, you're so good with people."

"It's hard, Mom. I have to pretend with them. I want a friend I don't have to pretend with."

"How do you pretend?"

"By the time I find girls I want to hang out with, they've already got their best friend. A friend they've had all their lives, living in one place, their whole life. I don't really like it in Paris. Don't tell Dad, but it's not fun, and I don't have any friends."

Methos wondered about Genevieve, whom Claire has spent a lot of time with, just as Elizabeth asked, "What about Genevieve?"

Methos wondered where and how Elizabeth knew about her, then realized that they had talked a lot before Elizabeth came to Paris. When she came to Paris, she upset the apple cart, that was for sure. Methos was happy in the city he had loved for centuries, and thought Claire was as well.

"Gen's just the only one who will really talk to me. We're not friends. Not true friends. I miss Sally. Or the ship where I had Joey. I like Joey. Before that, I liked Katie in California. There's even Katie Rose. How come we don't see them anymore?"

"Have you ever talked to Daniel about this?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Methos could imagine Claire was shrugging, as she normally did. Methos sighed and waited through the pause to hear Elizabeth tell her she was on her side and Methos was the enemy. Get themselves a little alliance in order to try and shove him out.

"You can talk to your father about anything, Claire."

"I'm talking to you. You are my mom, aren't you?"

"Of course I am. I love you. That will never change."

"Then why aren't you around?"

"Your father and I... we're going through something... and I don't know-."

"I know. I don't mean in the same house, but can you live on the same continent? I don't want to have to choose between you."

"Who's made you choose?"

"Dad."

"He didn't... did he?"

"He's really mad at you."

Methos nodded. "Here we go," he said, fully expecting Elizabeth to start counting the litany of reasons why she would be the better parent to raise Claire.

"He has every right to be. It's not because of your dad that I left you in Paris. It was because of me. I thought you wouldn't want to see me again after the... misunderstanding about what I said in Kent."

"You should have talked to me."

"I tried, but you didn't want to."

"Who's the mom here?" Claire's voice rose. "Since when does the kid tell the parent what to do? I'm mad and tell you I hate you, so you leave me forever?"

"I didn't leave forever, I'm right here. And words are important, Claire. I can't hear you hate me and see you all upset and think that I could make things better by sticking around. You didn't want to see me."

"I didn't mean it. If you had stayed, you would have known that."

"How was I supposed to know?"

"Be my mother and not leave me!"

Instinct had Methos ready to bolt off the stairs and rush back to the room to comfort Claire as all of this was quite new to him, forgetting that he had expected Elizabeth to turn things to her advantage. Always guided by his head, not his heart, Methos stayed firmly planted on the stairs, receiver clamped to his ear.

"I'm sorry, honey. I truly am," he heard Elizabeth say. "It was me. I wasn't... haven't been... comfortable with anything I've done the last few months, and didn't want to hurt you more than you already were."

"Act like my mom and make me talk to you. I tell Dad I want to come to New York, out of the blue, and we come here? How come you guys will do some things for me, but not what's important?"

"It's important to you that we stay in one place?"

"I want you to get back together!"

"That's not going to happen, Claire. At least... It's up to your father."

"Don't you love him?"

"Of course I do."

"Then why did you do that?"

"I don't know. I was confused. It's hard to... if I don't understand it, how can I explain it to you?"

"Well, talk to Dad, no, tell Dad that you're going to stay with me. Us."

"I can't do that."

Why not?

"I can't demand anything. I'm not ready and it's not fair to-"

"To who?"

"To everyone. Claire, I have-"

"Tell him, Mom. He'll listen."

"No, it has to be his decision, on his own if he lets you stay with me, or we can live in the same neighborhood, or take me back."

"Why does it have to be up to him?"

"Because he didn't do anything wrong, I did."

Methos had found himself walking back to the hotel suite as if in a trance. It was only when Elizabeth's buzz washed over him that he realized she probably felt him too. He didn't have the book with him, so he walked back to the stairwell to get it.

"What is it, Mom?" he heard Claire ask over the receiver.

After a pause, he heard Elizabeth reply, "I just... felt something. It's all right."

"Will you talk to him, Mom?"

There was a pause while Methos picked up the book he had taken from the shelf in their suite, and waited for her answer. He walked slowly back down the hallway, knowing his immortal sensation was as tickling to her as hers was to him. Her answer would be interesting. She was right. She had no right to demand anything of him. In fact, the whole conversation had not been at all what he had expected. For a moment, he was sorry he had eavesdropped on it.

"I think it would be better if you talked to him, sweetheart. No, I really do!"

The edge in her tone of voice surprised him, then he realized that Claire was probably getting herself into the huff that she used when things didn't go her way. As if Elizabeth demanding anything would make him budge an inch anyway.

He switched off the receiver and put it in his pocket, pulling his sweatshirt over it so she couldn't spot it once he walked back into the suite. He heard a door slam, and he shook his head wondering how long this 'phase' Claire had entered would last. Methos ran the keycard through the lock and opened the door to find Elizabeth standing at the window.

"I wondered how long it would take you to walk in," she said without turning around.

"How were you to know it was me? Could be some madman with thoughts of taking a head. Or Mac. Which at times is the same chap."

"I need to talk to you about something."

She still didn't turn around or react to his presence at all, which gave him pause. He took the opportunity to flip off the monitor and re-shelf the book. "Oh?" He had thought she had told Claire that it was up to Claire to talk to him about the atrociousness of her life.

Elizabeth took an audible, deep breath as Methos grabbed a beer from the little fridge. When he twisted off the cap, Elizabeth finally turned around. "What about?"

"Why don't you talk to her?"

"I talk to her all the time."

"I'm sure you do, but this time, why don't you ask the right questions and listen to her answers?"

Methos imagined that Elizabeth knew he had been listening. Instead of giving himself away, he leaned against the back of the sofa and drank his beer. It was best to be quiet when being quiet would do. He would wait for Elizabeth to explain herself or accuse him, and he would be ready for her.

"You've done well with her, Methos. She has a little problem that she seems to think she can't talk to you about."

"Oh?"

Elizabeth sighed and turned away. He waited for her to give some indication that he had eavesdropped, and if she did, he would admit it. After all, she almost killed him, why would she think he'd leave his daughter in her hands without some assurance no harm would come to her?

She walked past him to Claire's door and listened. "She's listening to The Moody Blues, if that's any indication."

"Having a pity party in there... what did you tell her?"

"Hm?"

"You said you had something to talk to her about too, what did you discuss?"

"You're back awfully soon from the coffee shop," Elizabeth said as she crossed her arms in front of her accusingly.

"It was busy downstairs. You know how I hate crowds." Looking at her face, he felt a bit bad about lying to her so easily.

"There are many things I want to talk to her about, but what she talked about takes precedence over my thoughts."

He took another swallow of his beer as Elizabeth moved from Claire's door to the door to the hallway. "Leaving so soon?"

"You want me to, right?"

He hadn't thought about it, but since she mentioned it, "Sure."

"Please talk to her, Methos. I told her she can talk to you about anything, and I know I'm not wrong about that. I may be wrong about many things, but she can talk to you, right?"

"Of course. What do you think I am?"

"It's not what I think that counts, does it? I need to go lay down, collect my thoughts..."

He really looked at her, it looked like she was ready to jump out of her skin. He had seen her in many different situations, and Elizabeth actually looked scared. "It's all right," he said without thinking about the consequences.

"Can we meet for dinner later downstairs? I really need to see more of Claire, but you need to talk to her."

"About getting back together or something? Is that what you want?"

"You know it is, but that's not important right now."

"Who are you to tell me what's important?"

"Oh? It is? You want to talk about it? It's a possibility?"

"No."

"See."

His eyes squinted. She had gotten the better of him for an instant. How she could pull him into something he didn't want, never ceased to amaze him.

"I'm in 315; I'll call here later to make plans for dinner, if that's all right." Before he could answer one way or another, Elizabeth was gone.

~~~~~

Amanda stomped her foot as Duncan moved away from her. "Hey! I'm a female immortal who has lived over 1200 years. I do what I can to survive."

"Like take heads of innocent people?" Duncan prodded.

Damn it! Amanda thought. Just seconds earlier, she had been in Duncan's arms after he had told her that he had missed her and she had given him his Valentine's Day gift, a woolen scarf in his clan's tartan.

"What was he doing there, Mac? Think about it. Look at it from my side. Or are you so stubborn you can't? I was scared. The robbery didn't go as planned; we were trying to get the hell out of there while the alarms were ringing. Michael shows up out of the blue, with a sword. He wasn't supposed to be there. I didn't invite him; Sasha didn't invite him. Then, after I left the museum, he followed me! He had a sword, and he hates me. What was I to think?"

"He didn't hate you!"

"You know he never liked me. You remember how he tried to talk you out of marrying me, and he almost did? How could I possible trust him in that situation? I did it. I admit it. I don't feel victorious over the head; it just happened, and I survived. I live to tell the tale. I have nothing to feel bad about."

"Why was he there?"

"I have no idea. The last time I talked to him was at our wedding when I opened that hideous painting and tried to think of something pleasant to say."

Duncan's stern manner cracked, and he actually smiled. "You were quite gracious as you pretended to like it."

"I was a saint." Amanda laughed lightly and walked closer to him. "Because he was your friend, I gave him a chance." When he didn't shy away from her, she rubbed his arm. "That's what I like to see."

"What?"

"That glorious smile. It always did light up my world."

When she had suggested coming to her room to get a little something she had for him, she had been so excited he accepted, she felt as if she was walking on air. Of course, the reason for their breakup became the topic of conversation. Now that she had told him what truth she could make out of a split second decision on her part that had turned her husband against her, she felt better that it was all out in the open.

She slipped between his arms again and felt at home against Duncan's chest, at least until he pulled away. "What? Can't we get back to where we were before the... unpleasantness?"

Duncan lowered his arms, stepped back, and sighed. Not good signs. "What?"

"Yes, my losing friends is quite unpleasant."

"Mac!"

"I know, I know you might have had a reason, but I can't get my head around it yet. Can't we just be friends?"

"No! No way! You're not my friend, you're my husband, my lover, my light in this cold, dark world. I'm lost without you, Mac. Just like you are without me."

"Amanda," he said with great emotion. "I love you. I miss you, but there are problems between us."

"Problems? Michael's head is one problem, and it seemed like we moved past..." Noting his reaction, as if he stuck his hand in a flame, Amanda stopped and then continued cautiously, "Started to talk about it... That's progress. But it's just one problem. We don't have problems."

"Yes, we do."

"Oh, right. Liz. You love her."

"Of course. I always will."

Amanda felt defeated once again and she didn't know how to stop it, save taking Elizabeth's head. She was convinced that her nemesis could never make Duncan as happy as she could.

"I love Elizabeth as a friend, and I will stand by her until she gets her life back. But she isn't a problem between us."

"She is if you act like that."

His ironic grin made her think about what he said. "So, she's not one of the many problems we have. What by chance are they?"

Duncan picked his coat off the bed and said, "Think about why we didn't spend Christmas together. Or, in case you need pictures drawn, I'll tell you. You were robbing a museum instead of spending a major holiday with me, and you yourself planned it. I'm not dessert or congratulations for a job well done or a congratulatory after dinner drink. I'm either the main course or I'm nothing. Our biggest problem is that you couldn't see that for yourself, that I had to tell you that. That's not how 'loving' wives behave, especially when it would have been our first Christmas together as man and wife."

He fingered the scarf that was still around his neck, and Amanda had the horrible thought that he would give it back to her, or worse yet, throw it on the ground and stomp and spit on it. To her relief, he said, "Thank you for the scarf. It means a lot that you remembered what day it is and that it matters. Don't take me for granted, ever."

Duncan stalked to the door and opened it. He turned back to tell Amanda as she sank onto the bed having lost the strength in her legs, "We'll talk later over dinner. I need time to think about things. Maybe you should as well."

~~~~~

Megan sat nervously at Nick's computer console waiting for her search string to come to some conclusion. She was alone in their nook of Headquarters since Nick was 'dead,' and Leon was also missing. She had thought upon entering the dark office of turning around and running as fast as she could thinking that Leon had also been taken out for some reason she couldn't even try to guess. In order to find out what was truly happening, she did what she came to do as quickly as possible. First on her agenda was finding out if there was any trace of the email left in the system. She used Nick's computer for fear that using hers would put whoever wasn't on her tail yet on it.

The computer stopped and the screen read, "No Files Found."

"Fine. I tried. Couldn't find it. On to the next thing," she said quickly as she shut Nick's computer off and went to her own. She sat in her chair and turned it on to check her email and do a trace for where Amy Barstow was working nowadays.

As she started a search for Amy, Megan couldn't get it through her head that the person who brought her into the Watcher system, who had always seemed so nice and unprovocative, could possibly be the one who was behind, not only the encrypted email but, Nick's shooting. Amy had been kind and reassuring to Megan and would check up on her from time to time to make sure she was all right. Just goes to show you, you can't trust anyone. Megan even wondered if she could really trust Nick. She didn't know him all that well, and if a man is to be judged by his friends, Mike was a weird one.

The door to the office opened, giving Megan a start. Leon walked in with files in his arms and a grave face. "Oh, it's you. Was wondering where you were."

"I'm surprised you're here." he groused as he slammed the files on his desk then plopped into his chair. He lifted his round glasses to rub his eyes.

"Bad day?"

"You don't know the half of it. You heard what happened to Nick, right?"

"Nick? What?"

Leon looked at her shocked. "You haven't heard?

"I got back late last night and went right to bed. What's going on?" Megan tried not to seem too eager for Leon's reaction, and he was apt to give her some gossip.

"Oh, that must be why I'm not a Field Watcher yet. I jump to conclusions too soon."

Leon also had the habit of digressing. Megan prodded him back to the matter at hand. "What about Nick?"

"Jesus, Megan. I don't know how to tell you this..." The short man stood up, fidgeting with the corner of his desk, then he took hold of his chair and rolled it to her and took a seat. He folded his hands in front of him in thought, then said, "I see you haven't seen the paper. There's no easy way to tell you."

"What? Leon, you're scaring me."

"How close were you to Nick?"

"Were? Where is he?" Megan bit her lip to stop herself from laughing out loud as she continued the charade. She hadn't had a clue that Leon had such depth of feeling for anyone, least of all Nick. Just come out with it! I want to get out of here.

As if Leon could hear her mental urging, he said, "Nick was shot and killed last night."

Megan acted the part of shock and grief for Leon's benefit, who pulled her to him and held her a bit too tight. She wondered just how long he had wanted to do that. Megan controlled her acting chops in order not to go overboard. She sat quietly with a tear, that surprised her, bubble at her eye. "How?"

"Sounds like a mugging. Funny, ain't it? We're in a business where any day you can get killed from any number of factions, and you buy it from some thug just walking into your apartment."

"It was nothing work related?"

"Not that I know of."

"What have you heard around here this morning?"

He motioned to the files on his desk. "Just that I have to clean up Nick's files and get Lorena's Chronicle in order for someone else to take over. Of course, it won't be me," Leon said with more than a hint of bitterness.

"Ah, Leon. You'll get a better assignment one day."

"Dandy Don is driving me crazy. Could they have given me a worst assignment? All he does all day long is try to get poor saps to buy overpriced, crap cars. That leaves me time to clean up other people's messes," he said as he looked at the files.

"Well," Megan comforted him with a hand to his shoulder. "At least you have an assignment of your own."

"You'll get yours, too. You don't seem too upset over Nick."

"Well, it's horrible, but I didn't know him all that well. We never did get out on a real date," Megan spoke softly, wistfully, and brushed her eye.

Hearing people walk up and down the hall made Megan once again ready to make tracks. She asked Leon, "Do you know about an Amy Barstow?"

"Immortal or Watcher?"

"Watcher."

"Nope, haven't heard of her." He looked at her computer screen, which displayed Amy's Watcher bio, complete with picture. "That her? She's hot."

"I'm not going to be watching Payson anymore, so I have some free time on my hands. I thought I'd look her up."

"Maybe you'll get Lorena."

Megan feigned sorrow again for Leon's benefit over hearing Nick's assignment's name. "I'll turn that down."

"You can't just turn them down, Megan." Leon laughed. "I forget you're a rookie. If you can just turn them down, you think I'd be watching Dandy Don, the number one used car dealer in the Valley of the Sun?"

"Well, they wouldn't put me on the Immortal that my almost-boyfriend watched."

"Don't think they'd care, babe."

When Leon went back to his files, Megan hurriedly wrote down Amy's current data, not wanting to print out anything, and then looked at the face of her mentor on the monitor. It was so hard to believe all this about you Amy... but, you never know about people.

She shut off her computer and quietly put all her personal effects from her drawers into her bag without Leon noticing. Taking a last look around her work station, she knew she probably wouldn't ever see it again. Things end so suddenly, and she decided this was just another step along the bridge of life she had the trod. She just hoped a bullet in the head wasn't what was waiting on the other side of that bridge.

Megan walked over to Leon, who had opened Nick's Chronicle on Lorena, and tapped his shoulder. "I'll see you around."

"Where are you going?"

"I have a meeting."

"So soon? They're calling you in so soon? Hey, put in a word about me. I'm sick to death of Dandy Don. I'd love the chance to watch Lorena and take in all that world travel."

Megan smiled demurely and said, "I'll see what I can do. Take care of yourself, Leon." Of the three of them sharing that office, Leon was all alone now. He'd probably need all the luck he could get to make it through this crisis without a hole in his head.

~~~~~

The reunion with Claire replayed over and over in Elizabeth's head as she laid in bed. She had hoped to get some rest before being faced with them again, but the thought that she had to prep to see her daughter and the man she loved more than anyone else in the world was daunting. She had royally fucked up everything, and didn't have a clue as to how to change things.

Elizabeth had played a fantasy conversation with Claire over and over in her head as she and Duncan drove from Philadelphia, and she should know that you can't imagine too much how things will work out because you're always wrong. She was happy Claire seemed glad to see her, had confided in her, but she felt terrible for creating the circumstances that resulted in Claire feeling so lonely.

A tightening in her chest, pounding of her heart, and a sense of shakiness made Elizabeth give up the thought of trying to rest and get up from her bed. She was in a small, no-frills room, but on such short notice she was lucky to get it, and she should be thankful she got one at all. There was only a shower in the bathroom, and there was only about a four inch space around the full-sized bed to walk around. The thought of the massive suite Methos and Claire were staying in brought out envy, but Elizabeth squashed it right away. "Be thankful you're here. Damn it, Liz, your daughter is right upstairs. Go see her again..."

All Elizabeth could do was sit back on the bed filled with hopelessness. She felt that she hadn't been or done what Claire had wanted and had totally disappointed her. She was probably talking to Methos right now about how the whole trip to see her was a mistake. Elizabeth wouldn't be surprised if she got a call from Methos saying they were going back to Paris. In fact, she'd be lucky if she got a call at all. They have every right to just pack up and leave with no word at all.

Overwhelmed, Elizabeth called Duncan's room and hoped to talk to him about it all and ask his advice on how to proceed, or if it was better to just cut her losses and leave them all alone. Getting no answer, Elizabeth hung up thinking that all four of them had left and were having a good laugh at her expense.

She looked at her suitcase against the wall, there really was no where else to put it in the tiny room except for the bed, there wasn't even a table and chair. In her backpack were the resumes and envelopes, and list of prospective employers that Hondo had culled for her. He was one person who had helped her. She could fill out the envelopes and stuff them and mail them. That would get the ball rolling so she didn't just sit in that tiny room and wallow in self-pity. Then she realized that she had just thought that Hondo was the only one who had helped her.

"Good God, Liz, shape up! What about Duncan? Claire doesn't need to help me, she needs help and guidance. Amanda's been helping by being there for Claire. Methos... well... he has no reason to help you."

Determined to help herself, and angry at herself for naturally thinking the worst at all times, she took hold of her backpack strap and then clicked on the television for background noise as she filled out the envelopes. Just sitting around feeling sorry for yourself and thinking the worst of the situation and people wasn't going to do any good for anyone.

Casablanca was playing on TV. "Things are looking up. Love that movie," she told herself encouragingly.

She spread the resumes, cover letters, envelopes, and the list of employers out on the bed, and all she needed was a pen. She sifted through her backpack and came up with none. She looked through the night stand drawer, no dice. She went through her purse to find the pen she used to write out checks. It was dried out.

Frustrated and about ready to give up hope again, she ran her arm across the bed, making the papers fly against the TV armoire and to the floor. She crawled up on the bed and clutched the pillow as she cried. She needed to take a deep breath again; her chest tightened. A tickling spread from the base of her neck up her head, and her hands were shaking. "Damn it!"

In the midst of her crying jag, she heard a soft woman's voice. For a second, Elizabeth wondered if she was talking to her. "Do you feel as if life is overwhelming, or that you have no control over your life? Are you no longer enjoying your favorite activities as you once did?"

Elizabeth lifted her head and sniffed back the tears to see a pleasant looking woman sitting on the edge of a big teak desk in an office filled with plants and tasteful chintz fabrics covering a chair and side table.

"Have you recently lost friends? Your job? Feel there's no way out of a long, dark tunnel you've found yourself in?"

"God, yes," Elizabeth moaned as she sat up in the bed, then brought her knees up to her chin and held herself tightly. On the commercial, the same woman was shown with a smiling old man, an overweight woman, and a young child playing with some brightly colored blocks.

"Have you lived through a traumatic experience?"

"You're speaking my language, lady," Elizabeth whispered.

There were now a lot of smiling, professional looking people standing together in what looked like the lobby of an expensive office building. "We can help you," the woman continued. She spread her arms wide. "Here at the Uptown Resource Center, we have psychiatric, therapeutic, and crisis respite services ready to assist you on the road to recovery."

When a phone number flashed on the screen, Elizabeth knew she didn't have a pen, and recited it, then repeated it over and over again as she searched through her backpack, purse, and coat pocket, where she finally found her cell phone.

~~~~~

Amy's face reacted to the cold cream she spread on her skin, then deeply massaged. Joey was finally content in the bedroom playing X Box. It was damn hard to have two kids, one a toddler who wasn't feeling well and the other a bored teenager, in a new city in a hotel room, alone. It was hard on Joey, she knew. He used to live here and wanted to look up his old friends, but that would involve going across the city from the hotel she had checked into in order to stay close to her assignment. Joey just couldn't understand why he couldn't go roaming out alone. If there hadn't been the storm and now the cleanup, she might have let him.

She took the time to rub her neck muscles with the moisturizer. If she didn't get some relief from this soon, she felt she was going to go insane. She had heard from Guy, he was on his way back from Philadelphia, and he was going to take a look around the St. Regis before coming home to them so they could have some family time together without any surprises from the Immortals.

She heard the door open and close, and for a moment, had the horrible thought that Joey had just been placating her, telling her that he would play video games, and he had actually taken off. "Joe Barstow, if you..." she said as she marched out of the bathroom.

She cried out with joy when she saw Guy kneeling down by Katie Rose's playpen where she was sleeping. "Oh, I've missed you!" she intoned as she ran to hug him.

"Hm, you feel good, babe," Guy purred in her ear as he hugged her and spun her around.

Katie started crying, but when she lifted up and saw Guy, she immediately put up her hands to be held. Guy obliged, and kissed her all over. "Hey, Joe!" Guy hollered, "Come out here!"

"Dad! You're finally here." It didn't take long for Joey to emerge from the bedroom. Amy could tell he needed something more than just her and his little sister. He looked at Amy and said, "Mom, what's that on your face?"

Amy's hand went to her face, and she realized she had a layer of cold cream on it. "Oh! You didn't even mention it!" she playfully slapped Guy's arm.

"You're cute no matter what crap you obscure your face with, babe." Guy told Joey, "Reach into my right coat pocket, Joe," as he continued to hold Katie, who had now wrapped her arms around his neck and was snuggled in close to her daddy.

"Joe, tonight, you, me, fourth row, the Beastie Boys!"

"Yeah!" Joey yelled, as he clutched the tickets, his eyes wide with excitement.

"Shouldn't they be Beastie Men by now?" Amy asked.

Joey yelped, "And 3-D Swords is the opening act? Way cool, Dad!"

Joey actually hugged Guy around the waist, for a brief moment, which made Amy feel great that there was someone else to entertain the boy. He disappeared into the bedroom again, as Guy asked Amy, "You don't, do you, babe?"

"Mind that you're taking him off my hands for an evening of old boys and swords? You've got to be joking," Amy laughed.

"How's this one doing?"

Amy could see that Katie was asleep again while she was held. "If you stay in that position for a couple of hours, she just might catch up on her sleep."

"She's been up all night?"

"Not all night."

"Take her to the doctor yet?"

"Early this morning. They took blood and will do tests," she said as she indicated the little spot on Katie's index finger where they had pricked her. "But they couldn't find anything. She doesn't have a fever or sore throat or an ear infection."

"I think she just missed me," Guy said as he sat down on the couch with her, then sprawled out. "Think I'll take a nap. Do you mind?"

"Just take care of her if she wakes up, and I'll be a happy woman. I'm going to take a long, hot bath."

Amy walked back to the bathroom, but then stopped. "Oh, how are things at the St. Regis?"

Guy shrugged as he shut his eyes. "Fine. Four rooms."

"Oh, that doesn't sound good. Well, maybe it does. At least that means the foursome aren't still switching partners. I'd love to talk with Liz to find out how everything is."

"Why don't you?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

Amy clutched the doorframe of the bathroom as she thought about it. "Well... think she still blames me for whatever it was she blamed me for?"

"You won't know until you find out."

Guy's eyes were shut, so she walked into the bathroom and wiped the cold cream off with a tissue. Elizabeth could make her angry as hell, but she was still the only sister she ever had. With Joe in Paris with his band, who would be traveling Europe for the foreseeable future, Amy would like to have a girl-to-girl talk with an old friend.

~~~~~

Claire fiddled with the three forks at her place setting in the restaurant of the St. Regis and had to ask her seemingly all-knowing father. "I know one's a salad fork, one's a food fork, but what's this one for?"

He moved the huge menu in his hands to look at her and say, "Appetizers."

"Aren't appetizers finger food? Like wings or onion rings."

After setting the menu on the table between their place settings, he seemed in his element saying, "This is the kind of place where you have oysters, prawns, mushroom caps, crab cakes, brie in honey mustard and walnut sauce." He loved telling her everything about everything.

Claire screwed up her face with disgust. "How much do they pay you to eat that stuff?"

Her dad chuckled. "We pay them."

"How about we pay them nothing, and we all go to McDonald's?"

"Too short of notice. Here comes another of our party."

Claire spun around to see Duncan walk in and smile at her. "Hey, Maconi," she said, knowing that he didn't like it and liked to see his reaction when he covered the discomfort to smile at her. She didn't like that he always pinched her nose after she called him that though, and knew that he knew she didn't, which was probably why he did it.

"No women yet?" Duncan asked, Claire cleared her throat. "Ah, I mean, old women," he corrected himself. "They're always fashionably late."

Duncan was going to sit in the chair next to Claire, but she stopped him. "Can you sit over there? I want to sit next to Mom, when she comes."

"Oh, of course." After he situated himself in his chair and drew his napkin over his leg, he said, "You're looking quite fetching tonight, young lady."

"Thank you, Maconi. You look fetching, too."

Her father humphed. "You don't even know what that means."

"I do too," Claire argued.

"It's more in reference to a woman," he explained. "And Mac, no one will ever refer to my daughter as 'fetching'."

"Get used to it, Dan. In a couple of years, you're going to have start fighting teenage boys away with a stick."

Claire giggled with embarrassment. "Oh, Maconi."

"Your nose is going to turn red if you don't stop that."

Claire covered her nose and giggled when he tried to tweak it again. "Mr. MacLeod, you look handsome."

"That's the best compliment I've had in a long time," he said and then seemed to tighten up for some reason. Claire looked behind Duncan to see Amanda, all dressed up in a really cool oriental kimono dress.

"Are you flirting again, Claire?" she asked as she came to the table. Both men stood up briefly as she took her seat next to Duncan; Amanda hadn't looked happier or more beautiful in a long time.

"No," Claire said as she continued to giggle. "I love that dress. It's a pretty purple."

"Thank you." Amanda looked around, then asked, "Where's Liz? Isn't she coming?"

"She's late," Claire replied. "I hope so."

"Oh, she will, honey. I talked to her a half hour ago, and she just needed to drop something off at the lobby and will be right here."

"Drop what off?" Claire's dad asked.

Amanda shrugged and drew the menu up to look it over. Claire noticed that she was looking at Duncan more than the menu, and when their eyes caught, they smiled to each other.

Then Claire noticed that all three of them looked around the restaurant at the same time. She followed their eyes to see her mom walk in. She was looking pretty with her hair all wavy and shiny, black pants, and a sweater. Claire stood up excitedly and waved her over to sit next to her.

"Hey, sweetie," Elizabeth said as she walked straight toward her with a smile and gave her a quick hug as they both sat down. Only Amanda had remained in her seat until her mom was seated, and it made Claire feel good that her dad also went through the motion of greeting a lady. Their talk after her mom left had done some good. She was hopeful that she could talk to her mom about it, and they could figure out what they were all going to do next.

"Oh, Amanda, you look gorgeous," her mom said. "Sorry, I'm not all dressed up like you all, but I don't have my best clothes with me and haven't had time to shop."

"You look great," Duncan said, just as Amanda said, "You look fine."

As Claire said, "You look beautiful, Mom," her mom gave her a small box wrapped in shiny pink paper and silky ribbon. "For me? Mommy..."

Claire excitedly opened it as her mom told her, "Happy Valentine's Day, honey. I'm sorry I'm late."

"Took another scenic route to the restaurant?" her dad asked, which made Claire glare at him.

Thankfully, her mom chuckled and said, "They took longer to engrave it than they said they would. I didn't want to come empty handed."

"Why not? We all did."

"Dad. Be quiet," Claire admonished him as she opened the velvet box. "Oh, Mom. I love it!" She pulled a gold locket with a calligraphy C in front. On the back, it was engraved with "LOVE YOU FOREVER."

When Claire noticed that her dad was looking at it, she gave him her 'don't say a word ' look. He didn't need to toss out one liners that were kind of mean at every opportunity. It was so weird that her mom gave her a locket for Valentine's Day when she was going to give her a locket for her birthday three whole days away. Claire threw her arms around her mom. "Thank you, Mom. Will you put it on me?"

As her mom did, Claire grimaced to her dad for his not letting her give her mom the birthday gift early. Because of the storm, she couldn't go shopping for something when she found out that her mom was finally coming to see her. All she came up with was what she could put together with the art supplies she had brought from Paris. Claire felt the locket against her neck and kissed her mom and thanked her again. She remembered me, was all Claire could think. She bent over to pull her present from under the table, and gave it to her mom, whose eyes grew wide and smiled.

"Happy Valentine's Day."

Her mom's hand lingered over the wrapped picture Claire had taken so long to paint, Claire wondered if she liked it, she hadn't even opened it yet. "You didn't have to get me anything," she said.

"Sure I did. I told Dad he should too, but he wouldn't."

Her parents looked at each other. Her mom said, "I would have been very surprised if he had. Just being here with all of you is the perfect gift. Thank you, Daniel."

"You're a cheap date." Her dad sipped his water, then added, "If you take plane tickets and a hotel suite out of the equation. Mac's picking up the tab tonight."

"Oh, I am, huh?"

"No," Amanda said. "My treat. I'm having lobster."

"Aren't you going to open it, Mom?" Claire asked, then reached to her mom's cheek to brush off the tear. "I would have made Dad buy something, but..."

"It's not that. I'm touched you got me something. Of course, I'll open it, and I'm sure I'll love it."

Claire waited anxiously as her mom took the wrapping paper off the painting. It wasn't much, and she might not even remember the place, but Claire still watched for her mom's expression.

Her mom's hand went to her cheek and she looked like she was going to cry. She didn't want to upset her mom, and that was so easy to do lately. "Mom, it's the-"

"I know. It's the gazebo in the park in London we stopped at when we bought you some dance clothes."

Claire beamed. "That was really the last time we spent time together."

Her mom hugged her as she whispered, "That was a great day. So much fun... I love you, Claire."

"Do you like the painting?"

"I love it. How could I not?"

"I want to talk to you, Mom," Claire said as she kept hold of the hug. She had to tell her mom what she had gotten her dad to agree to that afternoon.

"You can talk later," her dad said. "I'm starved." He motioned for the waiter to come over as her mom looked like she was going to keep on crying.

"Dad!" Claire said as she nudged his arm.

"What?" he asked innocently. "You two can have private time after dinner."

"Oh, cool. We can talk in private."

"That sounds grand," her mom said as she wiped her face and stared at the painting. She clutched Duncan's waiting hand.

Amanda stood up and walked around the table to her mom. "Why don't we go to the ladies' room?"

"Yes, I'd like to freshen up."

"Can I go too?" Claire asked.

Amanda said, "Your mom needs to freshen up, and I have a couple of things I'd like to speak to her about as well. We'll be right back."

"Better hurry back so you don't miss the honey mustard prawns," Claire joked, feeling just a bit left out from the 'girl talk.'

"Honey mustard prawns?" Duncan asked as he surveyed the menu.

"Or what was it you said this fork was for, Dad?"

Her dad only laughed as Amanda and her mom walked away from the table. "What's so funny?"

~~~~~

Amanda walked into the bathroom and looked in all the stalls. They were blessedly alone so she could interrogate Elizabeth about her intentions with this trip. Elizabeth walked in and went straight to the sink to run some water. It was sweet that mother and daughter had given each other something, but now was the time for business.

"How you doing? Feeling better?" she asked as Elizabeth brushed water over her face.

"I feel on top of the world, Amanda. After everything, after how our conversation kind of went south today, Claire still gave me a present."

"Well, you're her mother, and she's a good, charitable girl."

When Elizabeth looked wounded, Amanda realized how harsh that sounded. "What I meant was..." Instead of coming up with a fast finish to that sentence, she adjusted her tight dress in the mirror. "I seem to be putting my foot in my mouth all day today."

"What do you mean?"

"While talking with Mac earlier, I didn't say the right things."

"Well, you both talked, that's a step in the right direction."

"The right direction? We're on the same page? You're not going to be difficult while I get my husband back?"

"Difficult? How? I've been telling him to talk to you all along. I'm glad you did."

"So, he only went to my room because you asked him to?"

"No. I didn't know he went to your room, but... great. How did it go?"

Amanda sighed. She didn't know how to read the woman. She was once, and maybe still was, her best female friend, but after she slept with her husband... after Amanda slept with Elizabeth's husband... but it was for a completely different reason than Elizabeth and Duncan sleeping together... Damn it! It's too confusing.

"I found out that he loves you."

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "As a friend."

"Yeah, he said that. Just how friendly are you?"

"Not that friendly. We haven't... we're just friends, Amanda. I promise. How about you and my husband?"

"Just the once."

"Recently," Elizabeth corrected her. "God knows how many times you've done it over the years."

"That's not the point."

"What is the point?"

"Are you standing in the way of Mac and I getting back together?"

"No. I've been telling him that he belongs with you, and I'm quite happy to find out that you're not with Daniel."

"Okay. We got that straight. Good."

Amanda pinched her cheeks as she looked in the mirror to give then a rush of color, then made sure her hairdo was perfect, and was ready to go back to the table.

Elizabeth said, "Amanda, thank you again for taking care of Claire."

"It's been my pleasure. I would have even if you hadn't asked me."

"It means so much to me knowing that Claire's safe. I can let her live with him knowing she's safe, and that she had you."

"Had?"

"Yes. She has me now."

Amanda was surprised she was talking about taking over Claire's care so quickly. It will be an uphill battle as far as Amanda could tell considering how hurt and confused Methos was after almost losing his head to his wife of all people. She thought that if Elizabeth needed help in that endeavor, it would be better to have Elizabeth as an ally than foe. "Maybe I'll help you make sure you get Claire."

"I do need help with that. A lot of help. Thanks. But, I don't want to take Claire away from him, I just want a relationship with her, to be there for her when she needs me. She does need me, doesn't she?"

"When did our lives turn into the Twilight Zone?" Amanda had to ask. There they were talking about how the world had turned on its axis since they moved into that bloody house. Elizabeth, the confident, capable mother was asking her that sort of question; Elizabeth had slept with Duncan; Amanda slept with Methos, something they swore twenty years ago they wouldn't do again after Amanda had really fallen hard for Duncan; and she and Elizabeth were both unsure about their friendship.

They both laughed, and Elizabeth seemed to be relieved as she laughed out loud. Amanda touched her arm, having missed hearing her laugh, and knew that with Duncan's best friend on her side, she just might get the Highlander back in her bed faster.

"Truce?" Amanda held out her hand to Elizabeth, who instead of shaking it hugged her instead.

"Thank you for the letter," Amanda said as she hugged Elizabeth back, really happy to be held. The old feelings of friendship they had forged all those years ago flooded back, and Amanda didn't let her go. For the first time in a long time, someone reached out to her and she was pleased to reach back. "I really appreciated what you said."

"I meant every word. I do look up to you. I do want to be more like you. I do want to survive as you have, without raising a sword to my husband."

"Yeah, that wasn't a good move. It was Pyrius, right? I mean, it had to be, right? You were so happy on that ship."

"I honestly don't know. It had to be, it just had to be, but Methos makes a lot of sense. It was me holding the sword." Elizabeth shivered in Amanda's arms, and she felt sorry for her. The short time she had spent in that house was more than enough for Amanda, she couldn't imagine how much Elizabeth had to endure there.

Amanda pulled away from the hug and then wet a hand towel in order to primp Elizabeth's face. Because she had taken the small amount of makeup off, Amanda opened her clutch to take out eyeshadow, lipstick, and blush. "Here. Let's get you fixed up."

"Amanda..." Elizabeth started crying again. "This means so much to me. I love you as a friend too. I always have. Thank you for taking care of Claire."

When Amanda started applying blush to Elizabeth's cheeks, Elizabeth said, "And me."

"Well, I just want a happy ending. For both of us."

~~~~~

Feeling renewed after the bonding with Amanda in the bathroom, she strode to the table where she heard Claire say, "You're weird, Dad."

Elizabeth chuckled and asked, "In what way?"

"Don't prod her, Liz," Methos said. "Claire doesn't like to hear history over brie."

Methos and Duncan lifted from their chairs as Elizabeth and Amanda sat down, and Claire smiled at her. Life was quite good at the moment. She told herself not to say anything stupid or anything that could be taken badly by anyone.

"Dad was just telling us the true meaning behind Valentine's Day. He has to know the history of everything. Research everything. You'd think he lived through some of the stuff he tells me happened way back when. Why not just let it be a day where people give each other little cards with hearts on them and candy, Dad?" Claire smiled at Liz as she said, "Or lockets."

"Because that's boring," Methos said. "If you don't know the reason behind things, how are you supposed to grasp anything?"

During the ladies' absence, they must have ordered, because now there were filled champagne glasses in front of them, bubbly grape juice in Claire's. The middle of the table was filled with an assortment of delectable dishes, which Claire was poking at with her appetizer fork. Amanda went right for her champagne glass. "To us, on the most romantic day of the year."

There was a moment of silence, but then Elizabeth raised hers and said, "Hear, hear."

She caught Duncan's glance at Amanda with bemused eyes as he clicked his glass to his wife's. He didn't overly smile, but didn't look away from Amanda either. Elizabeth watched Methos drink from the glass wordlessly and then set it down on the table. He was such a puzzlement. Elizabeth had no idea what he was thinking, even after she had first spoken to him on the phone in Philly. He was so mad at her, which she knew he had every right to be, but now she could accept the idea that he was, as Amanda said in the bathroom, hurt and confused. He looked relaxed and in charge, but there was also a little boy lost quality about him, which was so adorable.

Claire said, "Mom, I talked to Dad today."

"You did?" Elizabeth's eyes never left Methos. He was still hard to read. "How did it go?"

"That depends." Methos took another sip of champagne and he seemed to be deliberating how the conversation would go.

Claire said, "He told me that we don't have to move around a lot anymore. I want us to live near you, and he said okay."

"He did?" Even though she had asked the question more to Methos than Claire, he still didn't react. It had to have been a giant step for him to promise Claire that, and he was probably as nervous about it all as she was. Not that he was hoping and praying they could get back together as a family, but Elizabeth assumed he was counting the ways she could take his head living in close proximity. "That's wonderful. Thank you, Daniel."

"Where will that be?"

When he finally spoke to her directly, Elizabeth got nervous again. Her hand shook, so she made fists and looked only at her daughter in order to calm the on-coming panic at being asked a direct, pointed question. "I have no idea. I sent out some resumes."

Duncan reacted to that, so she told him, "That was another reason why I was late for dinner. I wanted to get them filled out and in the mail. The sooner the better."

"That's great," he told her.

"Where did you send resumes, Liz?" Amanda asked, not sounding as if she wanted an actual list, but to join the conversation.

"Colleges, museums, actually, all my dream employers that Hondo could find a contact for."

"I hope you get something, Mom."

Elizabeth held Claire's hand. "I do, too. So, I have no idea where I'll be."

"Well, we can rough it here at the hotel until something happens," Methos stated matter of fact.

"Really? You'll stay here? You're not taking her back to Paris?"

"I'll have to eventually in order to pack up. Little One doesn't like my apartment."

"It's not the apartment, Dad. I want to be someplace Mom likes too and make friends, and not move again."

Elizabeth swept her hand lovingly over Claire's head, which made Claire lean in to be held by her mother. Claire was acting on such faith. Elizabeth hadn't had a chance to truly tell her everything she wanted: how sorry she was for making life in Kent end abruptly, breaking up the family, not staying in Paris to explain to Claire about how everything had happened, how much she wanted to be her mother full time again, how much she loves her and needs her. Claire might know that by instinct, and for that, Elizabeth was ecstatic and full of love. The nine years she raised her daughter full time was enough for Claire to know that the last dreadful month wasn't the way things would be indefinitely. As long as Claire understood that Elizabeth needed time to get herself straightened out, so things might be a little shaky for a while longer, that's all Elizabeth needed to know, and she would make sure to tell her that after dinner.

Methos had drunk the toast to romance, and he talked to Claire as Elizabeth had asked; would there ever be a possibility for them to work through their problems and save their marriage? It was all Elizabeth could hope for, but could not push. She would just let things happen on their own accord. And please, God, don't let me say or do anything stupid.

She almost blurted out with the news that she was going to see a therapist in the morning, that she was going to work on repairing what she had done to sever her matrimonial ties to the man she loved more than life itself... but kept it to herself. She couldn't make plans or expect things to go a certain way. She couldn't force anyone at the table to do anything for her. For now, Elizabeth had to help herself, and she had to enjoy being one of the crowd and savor every moment of being able to spend time with her daughter. Even for that, she would always be grateful to Methos.

CONTINUED