THE ELIZABETH SERIES

CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

BABY STEPS

by JoLayne

RATING: PG

CHARACTERS: Methos, Duncan, OC's Elizabeth, Claire, Dr. Julia Stone, Megan, Nick, Mike, Jan

SUMMARY: Elizabeth takes a big step on the road to her recovery.

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.

~~~~~

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 2013
NEW YORK CITY

Elizabeth jumped in her seat when a male called out, "Twelve!" She had been almost in a trance watching a child play in the corner with those same blocks she saw in the commercial, the Muzak was soft, and there weren't more than two other adults in the waiting room, neither of whom had made a peep since entering and sitting down without checking in with the receptionist. Elizabeth looked at the ticket she had been given by the receptionist to see that she was in fact number 12. She smiled at the man with the deep, bellowing voice, and followed him to a hallway, where he shut the door behind them. He told her, "You can wait in here,"as he motioned to an open door to the left. "Dr. Stone will be with you in a few minutes."

"Oh. Good. You're not the doctor."

"Ah, nope. I'm an intern. Jonathan. If you need anything, just let me know."

"Okay. Great. I was told I'd see a female therapist, which I'd be more comfortable with."

"Dr. Stone is great," he said as he disappeared into a conference room.

Sure she was great, he had to say that. Elizabeth walked into her tasteful, non-threatening office, no overly bold colors, and everything had soft fabrics. She had no idea what she could possibly tell the woman in order to get help, but knew she needed to talk to someone to see if she was crazy. Her could not list was extensive, she couldn't talk about how old she was, how many times she was married, when she went to school, how she came into being, why her marriage broke up, or why she doesn't need to work but could fly around the world. As she sank down into the comfortable couch, Elizabeth pondered the possibilities of what was left to be talked about. She didn't know how to ensure her daughter knew she was important to her and she wanted to live with her, but couldn't because Claire belonged to her father. How could she get a good night's sleep; just one night. That would be paradise. How not to hear something and start shaking like a leaf. How to talk to her husband, who at one time she could talk to about anything anytime, get back with him, and come to terms with what she did to him.

Elizabeth chuckled. "I can't tell her I almost took his head, how can Stone help me if she doesn't even know what or who I am?"

The door opened and the petite woman with the welcoming smile from the commercial walked in, looking much different that she had in the commercial. In the ad, her hair was in a fresh, sophisticated flip, and she wore a baby blue skirt suit, pantyhose, and black high heel shoes. She looked professional, as if you could tell her your troubles and she'd wave her hand and life would be fine. Now, her blonde hair looked like she needed her roots done and was pulled back by a clip; it had grown longer. She was wearing a black, over-sized sweatshirt and black jeans and was barefoot. She looked like she on her way out to garden or something.

"I'm so sorry I kept you waiting." She held out her hand to shake. "I'm Dr. Stone, Ms. Gordon. Would you like some coffee or water?"

"No, thanks. Hi," Elizabeth said, shaking her hand.

"Forgive me for my appearance, but I was all set to do paperwork all day. I dress a little differently when I don't expect clients."

"Oh, well, if you're busy, I can come some other time."

Dr. Stone sat on the edge of her desk just as she had in the ad, but had a confused look on her face, not the welcoming smile. "I was under the impression that when you called yesterday you needed to get in soon, that you were in crisis."

"Well..." Elizabeth did want and need help as soon as possible because Claire needed motherly attention as soon as Elizabeth was able to provide it with confidence, but... "It could wait until tomorrow, I suppose."

"I'm booked, so now is the perfect time if you don't mind my attire. You also indicated when calling that you wanted to see a female therapist, and I'm the only female psychotherapist who's not on vacation."

"I don't want to be in the way."

"Oh, no! I'm sorry if you got that impression, Ms. Gordon. I just wanted to explain why I'm dressed like this. I'm ready to work with you if you are. I just didn't realize when I came in this morning that I'd have a client, and I wanted to get that out of the way so we can move onto more important things. You understand?"

"Yeah... I guess. That's okay. Doesn't matter what you look like." Elizabeth hoped. In a way, it might be better. It would be more like talking to a friend than someone who would pass judgement on her. "Thank you for fitting me in."

"That's what we're here for." Now she flashed the welcoming smile that had first drawn Elizabeth to her place of business. The doctor sat in the wingback chair across from where Elizabeth sat against the left arm of the long sofa that took up the entire wall of the office. Dr. Stone indicated the legal pad and pen she grabbed from the side table. "You don't mind if I take notes, do you? It's customary, and it's also for my memory."

"Hey, I'm all for making lists."

She set the pad on her lap and then opened a manilla folder. "You're living in a hotel in the city?"

"Yes."

"Is this your permanent residence?"

"For the time being. I told the receptionist that there's no need to go through insurance. I wrote her out a check for our session."

"Oh, don't worry about that. Why do you feel you need treatment?"

Such a short question in such a rushed manner. Elizabeth had to gather her thoughts in order to avoid appearing to be an idiot. "Things have happened in my life lately, and I'm not sure how to deal with it all."

"Okay. That seems like a place to start." She shut the file and situated herself with the legal pad and wrote something on it.

She's taking notes already? Suddenly, it didn't seem like a good idea to Elizabeth. "Um," she paused. "Those notes... um..."

"Let me explain the confidentiality that you and I will have. The notes will never end up in any report. No one will ever see them. In fact, as soon as your Diagnostic Assessment and Progress Notes are dictated, I shred the notes I take during session."

"Diagnostic Assessment and notes?"

"Yes. For your file. Unless you sign a release of information, these reports will never leave this office and no one except the people in this office will ever have access to them. Due to state and federal regulations, these records are considered sealed unless we receive written permission from you. Even with your authorization, not all reports would be released. I assure you, whatever you say in this room, stays in this room."

"There's no chance anyone could break in and steal them?" Elizabeth asked with a nervous chuckle.

"That never happens."

Ten to one, Dr. Stone had never had an Immortal with a Watcher on her ass before either. Before Elizabeth could formulate another question about it, Dr. Stone said, "All patient records are kept behind four locks and, of course we have security systems."

"Okay." Elizabeth still couldn't tell her everything, so it probably didn't matter. "I appreciate that you want to help me."

"You said you didn't know how to deal with things that have happened in your life. What's happened?"

"I'm separated. I have a daughter that I saw yesterday for the first time in a couple of weeks."

"So, your husband has primary custody of her?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"How old is she?"

"Ten. She'll be eleven next week."

"Why did your husband obtain primary custody of her?"

"Well, it was just decided."

"By a judge?"

"No. Us. Him, mostly, but I agreed to it because I don't think I'm strong enough to take care of her right now."

"Why did you and your husband separate?"

"A series of misunderstandings," Elizabeth began, wondering how much to tell her. "I usually sabotage relationships, and other things happened. I... made a terrible mistake."

There was silence as the doctor waited, probably for her to elaborate, but how in the world could she? She couldn't say she had tried to take her husband's head. With a sword. While he slept. While an immortal whose head Elizabeth had taken to save her husband screamed at her to kill him. Elizabeth started to feel the onset of another spell, a tightness in her chest, racing heartbeat, flop sweat, and shakiness.

The doctor was still waiting, so Elizabeth cleared her throat. "I betrayed his trust in me."

"You had an affair?"

"No. Well," Elizabeth paused, and then realized that her day and night with Duncan did fulfill the classic definition of an affair, but it was only after her husband had one... not because of it, but after it... Elizabeth chuckled; she didn't want the doctor to think her troubles were so... simple. "No. It wasn't that. I did something that made my husband no longer trust... me... his safety with me."

She felt a little better to have said it that way, but there was a confused look on the doctor's face as she was processing her answer. "Did you try to kill him, or did you attack him?"

"I attacked him, yes, but I never wanted him dead."

"Did he file a police report?"

"No."

"Hm," Dr. Stone said as she wrote furiously on her legal pad. "Has domestic violence been prevalent during your marriage?"

"No. Not at all." Well, no more than immortal violence, but how could she help that?

Elizabeth took a tissue from the box on the table near her and wiped her brow. "I think I'll have that glass of water now," she said with a completely dry throat. More than needing water, she needed the opportunity to look at what she had written while Stone was getting her that water.

"Of course." Dr. Stone stood up and Elizabeth was bummed when she only walked to the desk to push the intercom button. "Nancy, will you please bring a bottle of water into my office?"

She sat back down on her chair and positioned the pad on her crossed leg once again. "When you attacked your husband, that was the first instance of domestic violence between you?"

It wasn't. She and Methos both had tempers and felt so much, in the early days of their relationship, Methos had hit her, she had slapped him, she had tried to kill him just after receiving Pyrius' quickening, he had cut her throat with a sword, he had abandoned her when she needed him the most, twice. "No, there wasn't. We've lived a strange life, the both of us. We're not... we haven't lived a normal life."

"What do you mean?"

There was a knock on the door and then it opened after a pause of about a half a minute. Someone Elizabeth assumed was Nancy came in with a bottle of water. She handed it to Elizabeth and asked if she'd like a glass.

"No, thank you."

"Thank you, Nancy," Dr. Stone said smiling politely to Nancy, who left without a word, closing the door softly behind her.

"What do you mean?" Dr. Stone repeated to her.

"I can't really get into a lot of it. I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Your records are secure, what you tell me goes no further than this-"

"I know, I understand that. I still can't tell you everything." Elizabeth opened the water bottle and drank half of it down in almost one gulp. It must have been fresh from a fridge and made her feel a bit better, at least not so hot from nervousness.

"Okay." She looked down at her notes. "Let me get this straight: You are married, there was no domestic violence in your marriage, yet you attacked your husband, whom has never abused you, and I'm assuming that he left with your child at that point. Is that correct?"

"That's about it."

"What are your goals for this situation, and what help do you need from me?"

"Okay, that I can tell you."

"Ms. Gordon, if you're not completely open with me, I'm not sure how successful your therapy will be."

"I can tell you my goals." Of course she could, she had rehearsed them since making the appointment.

"All right."

"I would like to reestablish contact and the mother-daughter bond with Claire. I'd like to at least have a conversation with my husband. If you can figure out a way to help me explain to him how terribly sorry I am and how much I love him, and want him back... that would be great. I've lost everything, including all my clothes and possessions. They're just things, but I lost it all when the house burned down." Elizabeth saw Stone's eyebrow raise, so hurriedly said, so she wouldn't have to get into what she couldn't possibly talk about that happened in Kent, "Most of all, though, I'd like to get through situations without thinking I'm going to explode,"

"With anger?"

"No. Fright."

"Is that why you're a bit flushed now? Are you scared?"

"A little. Yeah."

"You have nothing to be scared of, Ms. Gordon."

"Elizabeth."

"Thank you," Dr. Stone smiled. "You're completely safe here, Elizabeth. No one is going to judge you, no one is going to make you feel inadequate. You're here for help, and that's what we will provide you. It would be most helpful if you tell me as much as you possibly can. If I'm working in the dark, I can't very well get the total picture of all that's happened to you."

"I understand. You have most of it so far. I promise. I screwed things up and need to figure out a way to make it right again. If that's possible."

"What frightens you?"

"That's a loaded question," Elizabeth said with a light laugh.

"Why?"

"A year ago, I would have just said snakes. Now..."

"What's happened in the last year to add to snakes on a list of what you're frightened of?"

"I lost my life. My whole life. I used to be a confident woman, but now I have trouble managing to remember to keep my cell phone charged. I love my husband, I love my daughter, I loved our life together, but then... we moved into a house in Kent, England, and I started to..." She almost confessed, "Hear voices," but held her tongue. She rubbed her face and pushed her hair back as she started to shake.

Dr. Stone softly said, "It's all right, Elizabeth. Just relax. Take your time."

"I started to act differently, see things differently, and..and.... I made a horrible mistake."

Elizabeth started to cry and took another tissue after setting the almost empty water bottle down. She saw Dr. Stone watching her, with concern on her face, which made Elizabeth feel worse. She wished she could tell the doctor everything, but that would entail her getting sucked into the Watcher system, and Elizabeth, in all good conscience, would never do that to anyone.

"Why don't we do this instead? I'll just ask you some general questions so I can get a handle on your background, and you just answer them. They're not difficult questions," Stone said with a smile. "And if you think of anything more to say than the simple answers, go ahead and digress."

"Okay."

"Where were you born and raised?"

"Gettysburg, PA."

"Did you come from an intact family?"

"Hm?"

"Were your biological parents married to each other at the time of your birth, and ever get divorced?"

"I'm adopted, but yes, they were married."

"Did you know your biological parents?"

"No."

"Did you ever want to find your biological parents?"

"No."

"Why not?"

So much for simple answers... Elizabeth grew up in a time when such a thing was unheard of, and when she figured out what she was after meeting her Immortal teacher, she knew it wasn't a possibility. Since Stone was still waiting for an answer, Elizabeth told her, "Because I was happy."

"Your adoptive parents were good to you?"

"Yes. Very good. I had a great childhood. I can't blame any of this on them."

"Do you still see them?"

"No," Elizabeth instinctively reacted as if it was a stupid question.

"Why?"

"They died."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Long ago?"

"Thanks, and yeah."

"You're a young person, where they young when they died as well?"

"Um." Elizabeth fidgeted again; mortals didn't live as long back then. "They adopted me when they were older," Elizabeth lied.

"So, they died of natural causes?"

"Heart attacks." Elizabeth had a flashback of all the bacon grease and lard her mother baked and cooked everything in, and wished that maybe she hadn't so she could have had her parents longer than she did. At least her mother lived to see her marry Teddy, who Sarah adored.

"Did you graduate from high school? Go to college?"

"Yes. In Gettysburg, and then the University of Pennsylvania."

Elizabeth settled more confidently into the sofa as the simple, truthful answer had worked. Of course Stone wouldn't care what year she graduated, just that she graduated. Hell, if she asked for transcripts for some strange reason, Hondo had made that possible for Elizabeth.

"Had you been married before your current marriage?"

"A couple," Elizabeth said.

"This is your second marriage?"

"Sure."

Dr. Stone seemed properly confused by that answer, but pushed on, "Did you divorce your former husband or husbands, or were you widowed?"

"Both," Elizabeth said, once again without thinking. Five of her husbands had died, and she had only one divorce, Eliot, whom she hoped would be her only divorce.

"How many times have you been married?"

Considering the stupid, simple answers she had tossed out, she took a moment to figure out what to say in order to make that 'both,' comment fit. "Three times."

"When did you meet and marry your current husband?"

The doctor wasn't going to fish for more? Elizabeth was relieved by that. "At a friend's house." Elizabeth had a thought that maybe her prior marriages had something to do with how she had treated this one. You never know, so she was again relieved that she had given a bit more information than maybe she should have, and Dr. Stone would now have more of an inkling of what she had to deal with. Elizabeth smiled as she said, "We got married for the first time in Portugal, and remarried in Las Vegas eight years ago."

As soon as Elizabeth said it, and saw Stone's eyebrow raise again, she wondered what kind of hole she had just dug for herself. She knew she would have to cover herself fast when Stone's next simple questions that only required simple answers were, "Your third marriage, actually fourth, if you remarried your current husband, was eight years ago? How old are you?"

~~~~~

Before Nick, Mike, and Megan left for New York to interrogate Ms. Barstow about the encrypted email and her part in it and, more than likely, Nick's shooting, they had some time to kill before they had to get to the airport. So Megan left the men in the van when she decided to stop to tell Terry Payson that she was now the sole Watcher for her Immortal husband. Also, because James Payson's name was in the email, Megan thought maybe she could ask some questions to find out what the hell was going on.

Every time Megan surveyed the Paysons' house, she always wondered why they lived in such a modest neighborhood. Immortals usually didn't know what to do with all the money they had. There were those who liked to live modestly, but there was usually something of luxury hidden from immediate onlookers to make their lives more enjoyable. Considering you could lose your head at any given moment, material things seemed to help them get more out of their long lives. Hell, with the eight million Megan and her mother received anonymously, but she now believed to have come from Angel Bancroft, who Megan had found out from Amy Barstow after joining the Watchers was actually named Elizabeth Bennett Gordon, Megan had some perks. Not a nice car or expensive clothes, save her leather jacket most would have to take out a loan for, but she outfitted her condo with the top of the line accessories and electronics.

As soon as Megan walked down the street closer to James Payson's house, she knew something was wrong. She had been told as she zipped through the Watcher system of education and training that she had a gift for feeling her environment, a definite asset in their line of work. She felt something was off, but she couldn't place it. It wasn't just the fact that her almost-maybe boyfriend and coworker had been shot because of a search string she started either. She sat on the bus stop bench to tie her shoe and look around in order to come to some conclusion as to what felt different.

A cherry red sedan slowed as it moved past her on the street, and then took a turn into the driveway next door to the Paysons'. She looked at her watch to see that Dave Mahoney, electrician, was home for his scheduled lunch break. You really could set your watch by that guy. If he were immortal, he'd be more unbearably boring to be assigned to than James Payson. Payson did nothing but stay at home to enjoy his vivacious wife, sit out on his back patio with a cigar or grill dinner, go shopping for clay, or go to the round of galleries that were showing his pieces. Once in a blue moon, James and Terry would go out of town, only because his sculptures were being shown. One really wondered what the young, vibrant, puckish Terry saw in what seemed to be a mundane lifestyle, but to each his own.

Then, Megan finally realized what was off. When Mahoney walked from his car, across his graveled front yard to his front door, to be greeted, as usual, by his young wife, she noticed their bushes. They must have recently had them trimmed. When she looked to the Payson house, she saw that one of the rose bushes by the front door was lying flat. All the times she had been watching that house and the Immortal inside it, that rose bush had been watered frequently, had gotten fertilized, and a bloom would be clipped off to bring into the house. Why that pampered bush was lying flat like someone had trampled it was a puzzle, and was probably the unconscious root of Megan's weariness of the situation.

Also, she didn't hear music. Terry could usually be seen dancing around the house and Payson would have the stereo on loud since he usually worked around this time of day. There were no lights on inside, another puzzle. Payson's studio always had plenty of light, and a lot of windows. It looked dark in that end of the house, the whole house, actually. No windows were open during the breezy 70 degree day. She knew they weren't out of town, but there could have been some reason for them to have left without notice. It was usual, since everything seemed to be planned down to the minute when the Paysons traveled, but they could have left for a jaunt somewhere. It was a bit far-fetched, but it could have happened. After all, Megan hadn't watched them for almost a week.

Megan had enough sitting around. She would rather find out what Mike was discovering with his Internet searches on everything she had written out on Amy Barstow, and also find out how Nick was doing. It seemed he would rather die than admit he was still in pain from the gunshot, but she knew he was, and she was worried about him. Megan looked around the neighborhood one last time before getting up and walking across the street to the Paysons' front door.

She looked through the window of the front door, but didn't see anything unusual. She used her hands to block out the sun and saw an overturned wall table that held their phone. Megan looked down at the rose bush, and saw a glint on the ground under a bush branch and a heel print in the dirt. Just a heel print. The pebbles of the yard where the rest of the fresh footprint should have been hadn't been disturbed, or didn't seem to be. In fact, looking at it now, the whole front yard looked to have been freshly raked, but only around the front door to the driveway. She now noticed the rake tine traces in those areas. Not once since she had started to watch the Paysons had she known them to rake their yard. She looked around to see if anyone saw her, and then got down on her knees to pick up the metal. It was part of a broken bronze statue. Looked to be the legs of a woman. The ragged edges where it was broken in half were quite sharp and were smudged with blood.

Megan had gone to the house thinking she might just ring the doorbell to talk to Terry and give her the good news, or maybe not; Megan always thought best on her feet without a plan, and she thought she'd figure out what to do once she got there. Now, she needed to get inside to find out what the hell happened.

Megan pushed the doorbell, then rapped on the door. The door swung open. She hadn't realized it wasn't closed all the way when she was peering inside. What a Watcher I am... "Terry?" Megan announced as she walked inside. She shut the door behind her and walked farther into the entry. She righted the side table and put the phone back. She saw there was a caller ID box, and scanned through the newly received calls. The dates ranged from three days ago until that morning. None of the phone numbers or names that flashed were recognized by Megan.

"Terry?" Megan called again, you could have heard a pin drop in that house.

After walking through the living room, to the kitchen and dining room, to peer out the back French doors to the empty back yard. She looked at the kitchen again and saw the microwave door open and a bag of popped popcorn inside. She felt it, and it was cold. Nothing else was out of place that she could tell. She moved to the hall that she knew would lead to James' studio and their bedroom. There was a high-pitched, yet soft, moaning coming from the closed bathroom door, then silence again. "Ew, they're not having..." Megan whispered to herself. Then she decided, no, if they were home, there would be some trace of them.

She took out her handgun and cocked it in case when she opened the door she was faced with danger. Her heart had begun racing as she had gotten further and further into the house, and she only now realized it. She took hold of the doorknob, not knowing what she would find, hesitant about all the possibilities, then took a deep breath to prep herself for whatever she would face.

Megan flung open the door and trained her gun into the bathroom and heard wild screams of fright. In the bathtub was a young woman with short black hair, wearing a nightgown that depicted sheep jumping over a white fence, screaming her head off. Her head was what drew Megan's immediate attention. There was the remnant of a bullet hole right smack dab in the middle of her forehead.

"Please, don't hurt me!" she screamed.

Megan immediately lowered her gun and flipped the hammer back to the safety position and rested it on the toilet as she moved slowly closer to the tub with her hands out so the woman could see them. "It's all right. I'm not going to hurt you."

The woman, who looked to be just out of her teens, cowered in the corner of the tub in a fetal position. "Please don't hurt me again."

Megan immediately knew what had happened to her: shot in the head, died, and revived; the only question she had to ask was, "Who are you?"

"Jan..." she whimpered as she calmed down a bit.

"My name is Megan, Jan. I'm not here to hurt you. I'll help you."

"How? I'm dead."

"No, you're not. You are something different than what you were, but you're not dead." Megan held out her hand to her. "Here. Take my hand. I'll help you. I promise you're safe."

After seemingly going back and forth about whether or not to trust Megan, Jan finally took her hand and was helped from the tub. Blood had dripped onto her nightgown and there were traces of blood in the tub.

"That's good. Just stand up, get out of there, and come with me to sit down and talk," Megan encouraged her in the most maternal manner she could muster. Actually, Megan was shaking like a leaf. Not only had she come across a victim of the violence that must have taken place in the house, but this was the first newbie Immortal she had ever come across. During training, the Watchers had told her and her fellow students that if this were to ever happen, the first thing you do was call Headquarters and stay with the newbie until another, more experienced Watcher could take over the case. What they did with them, Megan never knew, but she supposed that they would make sure the newbie was safe until found by a 'reputable' Immortal who would train him/her.

Jan walked slowly as Megan guided her by the hand to the hallway. When it seemed she wasn't going to walk anymore, Megan asked her, "What happened here? When? Where are Terry and James?"

"I don't know where they are. There were men. So many men," she cried. Then she started talking faster as if she was relieved to finally get it off her chest. "It was last night, I was staying over, I was going to take a shower. There was a bang and a rumble, I didn't know what was happening. I heard Terry yell, a man wearing all black, from head to toe black, a stocking cap or maybe pantyhose with one leg cut off, you know, gloves... he busted in here and I was so scared. He lifted his arm and then I didn't know anything until I woke up in the bathtub. I couldn't move, I was so scared!"

"It's all right." Megan touched her arm, but Jan jerked back. "It's all right. Take it easy. I'll help you."

"How?! I'm dead! When I got up, I saw myself in the mirror," she said with great force as she pointed to the bullet hole on her forehead. "How can you help me when I'm dead?"

"Because you're not, Jan. You're Immortal."

"What?" she cried out.

"How do you know Terry and James?"

"Terry's my sister."

"You were adopted."

"Yeah, so. I'm still her sister," she seemed to take offense.

"Of course. Look, you need to... Um, I'm not the one who should tell you... um, just come and sit down and relax, and... I'm going to make a phone call, all right?"

"Jamie went to bed, and Terry was going to make popcorn and we were going to watch a movie when I was done with my shower. We rented a bunch of Luke Owens movies. We really like him. Where are they?"

"I don't know, they're not here."

"Are you sure? Did they get out? They left me behind? They're not dead?"

"Sit down, and I'll look through the rest of the house. Okay? Just go sit down."

Jan took off down the hall in the direction of the kitchen. "Terry?!"

Megan yelled out, "Don't leave, just sit down."

"Where the hell would I go?" Jan asked as she spun around to look at Megan. "Please don't tell me Jamie's dead in there."

"I'll check it out, just stay there. Okay?"

"Okay."

Megan went back into the bathroom to pick up her gun and walked down the hall. She peeked into James' studio to see the pedestal and bust he had been working on, some bald man with a round face, was smashed on the floor. A stool was overturned. A supply cabinet door had been pulled off its hinges. There were footprints in some clay on the floor. The potter's wheel had a bloody hand print on it. There had definitely been a scuffle in the room, and the closed bedroom door spooked Megan. The whole house did, it was so quiet after so much violence must have happened just a few hours ago.

Megan tensed as she walked to the closed bedroom door, not knowing, or wanting to know, what she'd see inside. The last thing she wanted was for Terry to be dead, and James, having revived, either be an emotional wreck with her, or missing. Thoughts that this could have been robbery floated into her mind for a second; she really didn't know if anything of value was missing from the house. She had only ever looked in the windows, never having been inside it. It was larger from inside. Funny how you get a new perspective on things after you've seen it from both sides.

"Bah, it wasn't robbery. It's that damn email." The conclusion that Amy Barstow was going to take out Watchers and Immortals didn't seem likely, but there was really no other explanation Megan could come up with. Steeling herself for what she would find, she opened the bedroom door to see blood all over the tussled bed.

"Oh, God," she moaned as she leaned back against the wall. To her relief, there wasn't a body amidst the blood on the bed. In fact, upon closer inspection, there wasn't anyone in there at all. Besides the blood stain, there didn't seem to be any sign of struggle at all. That is, until she saw the top half of the bronze statue on the floor by the bed. It was a statue of an angel, and one of its wings was broken off. Megan bent down to look for the wing, and found it just under the bed skirt. It had blood on the tip. Maybe James was in bed and used it as a weapon; after it broke in half, he still held the legs as they carried him outside, but dropped it when he died. Or maybe it was left as a clue for whoever would come across everything. Her. Megan felt a sense of responsibility to find out just what happened to the Paysons. Megan dropped the wing and said, "Well, at least he drew blood. But he sure did lose a lot too." The blood on the bed wasn't a large puddle, but it was enough blood loss to kill a human, she supposed. She didn't know who was in the kitchen with the popcorn and who was in the bed, but they were both missing. And there was a newbie in the other room. Megan went in search for her since she wasn't at the end of the hall where she said she'd stay.

Jan was found huddled on the floor of the living room with the phone to her ear. "GOD! You didn't call the cops, did you?"

Jan started to wail in fright as Megan rushed to her and grabbed the cordless from her hand. She fumbled for the cut off button and could hear some woman say, "Patrol is on their way. Just stay on the line until I know they have arrived."

"Goddamnit!" Megan yelled as she cut off the call and threw the phone against the wall. "You never call the cops!"

Jan shrank even more into her fetal position and cried. "Don't hurt me!"

"I'm not going to hurt you, I'm going to help you, but you have to listen to me, damn it!" Megan took a big breath, she felt like slapping the idiot upside the head for making it a certainty that whatever other clues were left in the house were lost. They had to get out of there before the cops arrived. Megan knelt down to Jan and smoothed her bangs down. Jan reacted by slapping her hands away.

"Get it together! I'm not going to hurt you!" Megan quickly took off her jacket and put it on Jan's shoulders, then pulled her to her feet. She could hear sirens outside, and Jan was crying much too loudly. "I'm sorry for scaring you, but please, for your own sake, shut the fuck up and follow me!"

She grabbed Jan's hand and pulled her to the French doors that lead to the back yard. She could tell as soon as they'd run half way through the yard, that cop cars had pulled to a stop at the curb and driveway. In fact, they probably drove on the graveled front yard; Megan heard crunching.

"Come on," Megan demanded as she pushed Jan through the gate of the high wooden fence that surrounded the Payson yard and then went through herself, making sure to latch it behind her.

~~~~~

Amanda spoke into the phone in Methos' suite, "I'd love to come for a visit, Livy. Balmy Miami sounds great right about now with the snow and cold here in the city."

Claire, still wearing the top and sweat pants that she slept in, walked over to lean on the table Amanda was sitting at. "Where's Mom and Dad?"

"Just a sec, Liv," Amanda told her then held her hand over the mouthpiece. "I told you, your dad went to get some things, and your mom had an appointment."

"Get what things?"

"I don't know, honey. He just asked me to stay with you while he went to get 'some things.' Being the good friend and the wonderful aunt that I am, I did, and let you sleep in. Aren't I the best?"

Claire just rolled her eyes. "I'll bet he's getting Mom a birthday present. Me, too. Wouldn't he? They didn't fight last night."

Amanda said into the phone, "I'll call you later, Liv. I've got a ten year old on my hands."

She laughed as Liv told her, "I can't believe you're doing the Mother Teresa thing, Mandy."

"Well, I'm good, but I'm not that good. I'll take you up on that invite, and maybe I'll be bringing my husband with me."

"Oh! That's great news, sweetie!" Livy announced, and then said, "Sawyer would love to have company on the links. Mac can play golf, can't he?"

"Sure he can, but he might not have played for a couple of centuries." The last time she had seen or even heard of Duncan playing golf was that lovely afternoon spent with Fitz as she sat demurely on the Stone of Scone, and underscored them both. Amanda gulped when she noticed Claire in the room, but the girl was too engrossed in an MTV video to hear her. She'd have to be more careful. Talking to another Immortal sometimes made Amanda lose track of the mortals and premmies in her midst. Amanda told Liv over the phone, "Call you later, luv. Be good."

"What's the fun in that?"

Amanda hung up with a laugh. After talking with Elizabeth in the bathroom, Amanda had spent most of the night wondering what was up with old friends. There wasn't much else to do while falling asleep as she was totally alone. Something she would change in no time. She remembered how her friend, Moira Darnel, had been taken by Cameron James, and it had been so long since she had seen her before hearing of her death. Amanda didn't want to lose anymore friends out of the blue like that. She had collected many friends and acquaintances over her years, and she would keep tabs on them. It felt good to talk to Livy again now that she was back from the Sudan. She liked to work as a missionary every decade in order to make her feel she was helping the world in some way. Amanda thought that admirable, but not enough to make her copy the behavior.

"What do you think Dad's buying Mom for her birthday?" Claire asked as soon as she hung up, again focused on her not the television.

"Don't get your hopes up, Claire. I have no idea what he's buying. He could be buying socks."

"Why does everyone do that?"

"What?"

"Shoot me down."

"Where did you get that expression?"

Claire shrugged and pouted. Amanda sat by her on the couch and rubbed her head, pulling her close to nestle in with her. "Shoot down what?"

"What I want."

"Everyone knows you want your mom and dad to get back together. No one more than I, or you, I suppose. But things happen as they happen, you can't make people do things, well, if they know you're doing something to make them do what you want. You have to be crafty, Claire. You shouldn't wear your emotions on your sleeve. Just find an opportunity to..." Amanda thought for a moment of how to phrase it, then breezily said, "Make a slight suggestion. Nothing overt, just a little nugget for them to think about."

"What's overt mean?"

"Obvious, plain, in the open. You have to be co-vert, which means make it happen but not let them know you're making it happen. Get it?"

"I like that. I bet that works," Claire said happily, eagerly.

"Honey," Amanda purred. "It always works."

~~~~~

Megan pulled Jan into the back of Mike's parked van as Nick hollered, "Cops? You called the cops?" and Mike asked, "Who's that?"

"Just drive!" Megan ordered as she settled Jan in the corner of the van because she wasn't going any farther. "Get us out of here."

Mike was fixated on the blood stain on her forehead, Megan knew they couldn't stick around the neighborhood with pesky cops patrolling. "Just drive, we'll talk about it in... New Mexico."

Mike rushed up to the driver's seat and started the van. In seconds, they were off. Nick, probably knowing they couldn't talk too openly with the strange female and Mike within hearing range, just touched Megan on the arm and asked, "Are you okay?"

"I've had better days, but I'm fine."

"Newbie?" he whispered.

"Yeah. We have to get to Headquarters. I'm not capable of taking care of her."

"Where did you get her?"

"Why are you talking about me as if I'm not here," Jan asked as she felt Megan's leather jacket.

Megan bristled as she asked for her jacket back. "I hope there's no blood on it."

"Well, sorry if there is," Jan replied angrily as she yanked it off and threw it at her. She fidgeted as she was now only attired in that ugly sheep jumping over the fence nightgown, which Megan noticed Nick chuckled at when he saw it. "It was a gag gift, all right? But it's comfortable. Well not anymore."

"She was there when it happened."

"What happened?"

"James and Terry Payson are missing. There's blood and signs of struggle, but they were taken, alive or dead, I don't know, but they were definitely taken."

Jan pulled her legs up to her chin and started crying again. Megan told Nick, "This is Terry's little sister. Adopted sister."

"Wonder if James ever let Terry know."

"He knew, if he told her, that's anyone's guess."

"Know what?" Jan asked.

"That you're Im..." Megan said, but then didn't know what Jan would do or say when she brought it up again and Mike was a witness, so she just hollered to Mike, "Go back to Headquarters!"

"Why?" Mike asked as he looked at them through the rear view mirror. "So I can get shot now?"

"We need to drop off a package."

"Headquarters for what? Are you a cop? What package?" Jan asked.

"You."

~~~~~

Methos trudged down the hall with his arms full of newly purchased textbooks. He liked the options NYU had in comparison to the bookstores in Paris, even England. He had decided that he could take the next step and teach Claire out of more advanced texts than her age group used because he was pleased to acknowledge she was wise beyond her years. After carrying the heavy bundle on the subway and through the slippery sidewalks of New York back to the hotel, the last stretch of the hallway seemed to grow longer in depth. Methos wondered if he should start working out again. He certainly didn't want to be complacent when he had not only his head to protect but Claire's as well. Alone. He was up to the task, though. Preferred it that way.

He kicked at the suite door because he couldn't shuffle the load in his arms to even get the key card out of his pocket. Soon, thank the gods, Claire opened the door quickly. "What did you get me?" she asked before scrutinizing his load. "Books? More books?"

"Yes, education should never wait, Little One." He rushed to the table, past Amanda, who of course didn't help him, and let the books tumble onto it.

Claire stomped her foot as she declared, "I'm on vacation."

"There's no such thing when a mind is young."

"Mom wouldn't make me have school like you do."

Methos bristled. He figured Claire would start using that ploy, using one parent against the other. He just didn't think it would be so soon. She had been almost overly affectionate and wanting to please her mother since they first saw each other, and he only hoped Elizabeth would be able to uphold her end; which included siding with him when it came to important matters.

"Hey, we're staying here instead of going home. I did that for you. You do this for me."

Claire grumbled as she sulked to the couch.

"Fine. I can teach you just as well on the couch as at the table, but it would be easier over here."

"Aunt Mandy, tell him I should be able to get some time off."

"I think I'm going to let you two work this out yourself." Amanda smiled sweetly and left quickly.

There were two attributes that he appreciated in Amanda: her smile and her knowing when she couldn't help the situation she should take off to leave it to the experts. At least she wasn't fighting him. He cringed when he thought of what Elizabeth's reaction to her whiny, lazy daughter would be. He had even half expected Claire to call down to her room to ask her if she could get out of studying. Now that he thought about it, he wondered where Elizabeth was. He had imagined that once she and Claire reunited she would be spending all her time with her, even asking him for custody of her. What the hell was wrong with her anyway? Not that she'd get it, and he'd have to kick her out of the suite if being around her became too much, but at least that would be the reactions he expected from her.

He shook his head, his wife, the woman who he had placed so much love and trust in, had taken a 180 back in England and would probably never again be the same woman with whom he had fallen in love.

Methos went through the books he had purchased, deciding which one he would spring on Claire first as she moped in front of the telly. While he prepared their lesson plan, she could have her little vacation. Enjoy it, Little One, you've had enough time off in the last couple of days. There were things she needed to know in order to make it in this world. As soon as her mind was prepared and she was old enough, he would start working on her balance, grace, and speed in movement. He had appreciated Elizabeth introducing Claire to dance, and she did seem to move with a lot more grace than other kids her age. Maybe he should get her back into it, but that was for another time. He could only make Claire focus on one thing at a time, she was usually overwhelmed when there were too many things going on. That was her natural tendency anyway, to focus on one thing. Such as repeat questions that he would hedge. A great teacher was one who knew his students, and Methos knew Claire better than the back of his hand.

Just when he was wondering how well Elizabeth knew her, he tightened at the approach of an Immortal. Because he wanted to get into the swing of education with Claire, he hoped it was Amanda or even Duncan. Please, not now, he grumbled as he walked to the door to spy out the peephole. His fear was confirmed when he saw Elizabeth in the hallway, looking a bit apprehensive. I'm the Immortal, idiot, he thought as she scanned the hallway. What are you thinking anyway?

When she rang the bell, Methos opened the door. "Good morning," he told her matter-of-fact, and realized that he had caught her unawares.

"Good afternoon is more like it," she said, recovering easily. "Is Claire in?"

"Yes."

"Mom!" Claire ran to the door and wrapped her arms around the one who would more than likely try to save her from an afternoon of classes.

"Hey, sweetie," Elizabeth said, kissing Claire's head.

"Let's do something," Claire immediately asked her.

Methos just walked back into the suite to take in what his wife would say and how he would be made the bad guy. He was prepared for it. He could take on anything she could deliver.

"I'm game. What do you want to do? It's actually quite nice weather outside."

Claire had taken her mother's hand and brought her inside as Methos leaned against the window sill, hiking one foot over the other, crossing his arms, so he could pay close attention to not only Elizabeth's words, but body language.

"The park? The zoo? Shopping?" Claire asked.

"Sounds fun." Elizabeth was smiling brightly, and looked to him. "What sounds good to you?"

Methos chuckled. "I thought you would have learned to survey the area before entering my territory."

"Huh?" Elizabeth frowned.

He pointed to the table, which was set up for Claire to start her geometry class. He had even prepared two notebooks for her to take notes, and for him to make sure she got the correct notes from which to study.

"Oh," Elizabeth said, losing the smile, her gaze leaving the table to drift to Claire.

"Dad's no fun. I'm in New York and he wants to have classes."

"Learning can be fun."

Claire's eyebrows curled up in confusion. Elizabeth nudged her. "Come on, admit it. You've always liked school."

"Not the way he teaches it lately."

"Why?"

Methos just knew Elizabeth was about to play into Claire's hand by making him the worse parent, and she would definitely find a way to make herself appear to be the one who should take over Claire's care.

"He just tells me things. He doesn't explain it all."

"What have you been studying?"

"Math."

"Well, Math is pretty matter of fact. I can't imagine you father teaches, say, History the same way he teaches Math."

Methos wondered what Elizabeth's angle was. So far he hadn't heard any daggers aimed in his direction.

"Right?"

"Well..." Claire shrugged.

"I see you're going to start her schooling here," Elizabeth said directly to him. When he nodded that was an affirmative, she said, "Great. Claire's life shouldn't be disrupted too much. How many hours a day do you teach her?"

"A couple."

"Claire, that's not long. Have you had lunch yet?"

"Yeah, Mandy and I had room service."

"Ok, at least you accomplished something this morning," Elizabeth commented, taking hold of the shoulder of Claire's top she usually slept in. "Have you brushed your teeth, brushed your hair?"

"Yes..." Claire groused.

Methos was wondering how this was going to turn out. So far, Elizabeth hadn't done anything that would make him angry. In fact, if he didn't know better, she was backing up one of his decisions.

"Good. Why don't you and your dad have a few hours of studying while I go get something to eat. I'll be back at two, then I'll take you out on the town for the afternoon." Elizabeth looked at Methos to ask, "Will that be all right? You can come with if you want."

Methos was appreciative of whatever angle Elizabeth was playing. If she was playing him, it was all right with him for the time being. He was getting his way. He shrugged and said, "Depends on what you do. I'm not holding your purse while you try on clothes."

"Ah, those were the days," Elizabeth wistfully responded. "Why don't I leave you two to it and we can discuss plans later? I'm just happy we'll spend some quality time together."

He didn't know if she meant with Claire or with both of them. Regardless, she seemed to be leaving soon. All this time he was dreading her presence, yet the encounters they'd had lately weren't too bad. She was obviously walking on pins and needles and was overly compliant with his wishes, and that was all right with him. "Sure," he said as Claire grumbled.

Before he could respond to his daughter, Elizabeth said, "You'll thank your father for these couple of hours a day once you're older. In fact, I'd like to help out on your education if I could."

"Mom, can't we-"

Elizabeth cut her off, "We can do many things, later. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Thank you, Daniel."

He didn't know what she was thanking him for, but he nodded as she left quietly. Methos rubbed his hands together to get some excitement into the room. Claire wasn't happy. "She was no help," she said dejectedly.

"Your mom was a lot of help actually." She hadn't fought his preparations and didn't take the easy road of bending to Claire's will in order to score brownie points with her. What Elizabeth may not know is that she scored some with him, he grudgingly admitted. When he felt the wall he had built up around himself after she went after him with a sword begin to crumble, he shook it off. "Well, let's get a move on. After you've finally conquered cosigns you can get ready to have fun with your mother."

~~~~~

Megan held the note she had just written quickly and looked around the clutter and mess in the back of Mike's van. She was shaking from all the things that had happened since she left for California right up to bringing the newly turned immortal sitting next to her to Headquarters. Nick was a bit in the dark about what her plan was, and Megan didn't know if it was the best decision, but it was all she could think of. She knew that Nick was nervous at being back here, and Megan couldn't empathize more. Jan needed to be taken care of, or at least pointed in the right direction, instead of wailing in the bathtub or talking to cops about what happened to her.

"You got an envelop?" she asked Mike, who had parked the van in the parking lot of Headquarters and was still at the wheel.

"Should be a couple in the drawer."

Megan opened the drawer nearest to her in the desk Mike had outfitted. She found a stamped, addressed, and slit open envelop, and kept looking through the pile of junk. On the bottom, she found one against the side of the drawer. She stuffed the note she had written into it and sealed it, then handed it to Jan.

"Go inside and tell the woman at the desk that you need to see Leon. Give him this."

"Who's Leon?"

"How can she just walk in and see Leon?" Nick asked.

"You think Carol's going to see her forehead and not know what's going on? She'll send her up to Leon," Megan said, with a bit of annoyance, at Nick, then softened when she looked back to Jan. The poor kid, still seemingly lost with all that had happened to her, and her sister and brother-in-law. "Give Leon this note, and he'll help you. I promise. Things are going to be all right."

"I want Terry and Jamie."

"That's what we're going to do," Nick told her. "We're going to find them and bring them back to you. You just talk to Leon, and he'll take care of you."

Megan was glad that Nick got with the program. They couldn't very well take her with them, she would only get in the way, and there would be no way they could explain not only what she was but what they were as well. Even inside Headquarters, if you didn't know that it was a major workplace for Watchers whose soul function was watching and tracking Immortals, no one from the outside would guess. They had to do it that way. Many times Immortals had found there way to a bureau, either by accident or on purpose, so it was mandatory to never reveal what was truly going on and what the establishment was meant to be. It looked like any other office space of any company anywhere on earth. It was only when you got into private offices, research labs, or the libraries that their true purpose could be seen. Megan hoped that Leon could arrange for Jan's care, getting her out of Headquarters quickly and on the track to whatever Watchers did with Immortals. Hell, he might even take over watching her; it would beat Dandy Don, the Unpainted Used Car King of the Valley of the Sun.

Jan looked at the sealed envelop and didn't seem to know what to do. Megan opened the back door and urged her out. "Just go in that door and talk to the woman at the desk. Ask for Leon, then show him that note."

"Okay..." Jan just stood there looking like a lost puppy. Megan felt awful for her, but what more could she do? Her name might have been flagged with what she had done that morning and she wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Unless I'm actually a premmie myself... Megan mused, then chuckled at the absurdity. If she was, Jan would have freaked out from feeling her presence. It's a bummer I'm going to die like every other mortal, but at least I'm not going to get shot in the head... like her.

"Just go!" Megan said now feeling more edgy as she wanted to get out of there.

She slammed the door shut and told Mike, "Go. Drive. Come on."

Mike, instead of driving as told, crept to the back of the van with them. "Who the hell is Leon?"

Megan looked out the little back window of the van which had a black film over it so no one could see inside, and to protect inside from the sun, to watch Jan slowly turn on her barefooted heel and walk to the door. God speed, Jan. You're going to need it.

Nick had answered Mike, "Coworker."

"And what is it you two do again?"

No answer came from either of the Watchers.

"Why did that broad get shot between the eyes, and live?"

No answer.

"Well, tell you what. I was minding my own business, I took care of a friend who got shot, I made him a fake ID, I drive you two all over town, I'm using my equipment to search for some broad, I'm going to leave my newspaper to fly to New York with you, I'm not doing one more Goddam thing until I know what the fuck you got me into!"

He sat determinedly with his arms crossed over his beer belly as Megan and Nick look to each other wondering what the hell to do. She knew they did need him if they were to get anywhere with flimsy clues and flying bullets.

Megan just shrugged to Nick. It was his decision whether they let Mike in on it or not. Totally up to him. Megan got out of the back of the van and saw Jan walk through the door of Headquarters. She walked to the driver door and got inside. She drove to her place in order to pack a bag, all the while silence reigned in the back.

~~~~~

Over lunch Duncan told Elizabeth what had happened with Amanda the day before. She was very pleased that they talked about the crack in their marriage, but more so that Duncan admitted that he couldn't help holding her. They had been more than pleasant with each other over dinner as Valentine's Night progressed. It was nice to see Duncan looking like he wasn't carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders anymore, but Elizabeth had to ask why he didn't go back to Amanda's room with her. "It's not time," was all he had said. "I will though."

She grabbed his hand to squeeze and smiled at him. Since just a few days ago he was adamant about never giving Amanda a chance, this was great progress. "Good going, I'm so happy to hear this."

"What's your plan this afternoon?"

"Wait around until I can take Claire out on the town."

"Your husband, too?"

"If he wants to come, he's welcome."

"Are you going to invite him?"

"I'll let him know that the option's open. If he bites, great. If not, that's fine. For now, anyway. What are you going to do?"

"I'm going shopping."

"Oh?"

"I feel bad Amanda gave me that scarf and I had nothing in exchange."

"Think jewelry."

"That might send her the wrong signal," Duncan had said as he shook his head no.

"What signal do you want to send?"

"That I'm happy we talked, that I appreciate the scarf, that you mean a lot to me, still, her, I mean, not 'you,' well, you mean a lot to me, but, you know what I mean."

Elizabeth laughed and put her hand on his shoulder. "Careful, there big guy. You're starting to sound like me now. But, I'm going to change that. Hopefully, I'll be more myself in no time. I know it's not a miracle cure to see a therapist, but it's the first step, right?"

"A what?" Duncan reacted with surprise.

She was wondering how to broach the subject with Duncan, wanting to know his opinion of the matter, and decided to just segue into it. "That's what I did this morning. I went to see a psychologist."

"You had an appointment with a shrink and didn't tell me?" Duncan asked wondrously, but it didn't seem as if he was mad at her, which was her first impulse, she realized she was once again overreacting. Dr. Stone had told her that she should 'monitor how she reacted to things, and knowing how situations, words, and events affect you, you'll have more power over how you behave.'

"Yeah, in case you haven't noticed," Elizabeth said, then laughed as it had to be painfully obvious to him that she was a mental mess, "I need to get an impartial observer's take on things."

Duncan leaned to her and kissed her cheek. "That's wonderful, Liz. Good for you for taking that first step."

"Thanks. I am proud of myself for doing that. I feel a bit better today. Still scared, but a little more confident."

"Scared of what?"

"Saying something-doing something-that doesn't fit what he wants."

"What about what you want?"

"I want what he wants, but hope what he wants isn't for me to take a flying leap off a high cliff. After he brought Claire to New York-which he in no way had to do-I started to look at everything that happened since selling the ship through his eyes. I don't like what I've seen."

"You got that right. He's been a bastard."

"No, Duncan. It's me."

When Duncan lost all levity, she tried to put into words for him all that she had thought about since first seeing Claire in their suite. "When Daniel..." She realized she didn't know how to put it all into words, but since he was waiting, she tried. "I know you've known him longer than I have, but I know him better. He doesn't get to know people easily. He doesn't fall in love at the drop of a hat. Usually. I know about a couple of women he did love, but that's not the pattern that's been his life. He admitted that he loved me more than he's perhaps ever loved in his life. He fell for me. He fell hard. He trusted me. He trusted me as a man trusts his wife, and as," she started to whisper, "an Immortal trusts another to protect his head."

She took a drink of water; her insides felt like jelly verbalizing her thoughts, and how she had betrayed Methos' trust. Yes, she had gone through a lot of trauma silently at Bethany Stone Manor, but she hadn't once thought about what he was going through while she went through it. "Then the one person he had put all that trust in, which wasn't easy for him, almost took his head. I can see why he doesn't want anything to do with me. If not for Claire, he'd be long gone, and I'd never have a hope in hell of finding him. I understand that now."

"Okay, so he felt betrayed," Duncan said, going with her and her explanation of Methos' behavior that initially had ticked her off, but she could now understand. "So that made him sleep with my wife."

"Well, that's for another session," Elizabeth said and prodded Duncan to at least smile. With all the problems she had at the moment, all the things she wanted to fix, coming to terms with Methos and Amanda in bed together was at the end of her long to-do list.

"This therapist sounds good for you to have you come up with that in one session. Makes sense."

"I came up with that on my own, so thanks, if it makes sense, I'm proud of myself." Elizabeth smiled at him, and was happy he returned it. "Dr. Stone's going to be great for me, though. We had a good rapport after the initial nervousness and when she was asking questions I couldn't come out with the truly correct answers to. But, when we started talking, just talking, it went well and I felt relieved when I left."

"What are you talking about?" Duncan asked hesitantly.

"Nothing about immortality. I haven't had to tell her anything about anything that would result in her getting sucked into the Watcher system, just enough to let me get things off my chest."

"That's great. You sound like you found someone who can help."

"She costs $350 an hour, I hope so, and I spent two and a half hours with her today. I'm going again next Wednesday. Maybe I'll tell her what I am and see what she says. Maybe she can have a huge sideline in Immortal Therapy. You never know. All of us need help in the head."

When Duncan sat stonily, Elizabeth said, "Kidding. I'm just kidding. Wow, I've been so out of it that you don't know when I'm making a joke? It's a bad joke, I know, but I'm making the effort for pity's sake."

Duncan said, "It was a bad joke," but he laughed with her and then kissed her cheek again. He could make her feel better faster than anyone or anything else, and she hoped that he could take the needed baby steps to get back with Amanda soon so he wouldn't be in limbo as she was.

~~~~~

Greg walked past MacLeod and Gordon's table as they were talking hushed to each other. Probably mushy love stuff. He didn't need to see anymore. When he got out to the sidewalk, he pulled out his cell phone and punched the 1 button, which immediately speed dialed his boss' number. "They're at the St. Regis, ma'am."

"They're still a couple?"

"They held hands, kissed, laughed. Yeah, I'd say they're still tight."

"Not for too much longer. Keep your eye on them. The merchandise is being rounded up. It's just a matter of time before you get the call, so stay sharp. Good work checking in regularly."

"Yes, ma'am," he told her and hung up. He'd rather talk to Mr. Cartwright himself, but something had happened to make Tina Fallon his mouthpiece. Greg had always hated that bitch, and it was hard to give her the respect he would give to Cartwright, especially since she had so callously turned him down when they both went through the Watcher system together. That bitch. But, he was getting well paid, and he believed in Mr. Cartwright's Crusade.

It almost made him sick to watch Immortals living, laughing, loving, thinking they belong with mortals. Greg couldn't wait for the time to come when he got the call and was able to shoot MacLeod between the eyes and carry him away. Just the thought of fifteen quickenings happening at once was enough to make Greg's day. The sight of it will be awesome, but not as thrilling as the power. Hell, they should try to bottle it and they could provide energy for the whole east coast for a year. "That would finally make 'em useful," Greg smirked as he walked down the sidewalk.

~~~~~

Elizabeth looked at her watch as she waited in the lobby, she had been waiting for over an hour. People watching was only so enjoyable, and she had her fill. Lunch with Duncan had gone quickly, but the last hour and a half had crawled by, Elizabeth had started to fill in the time by going through all the shops in the hotel. "So what if I'm a little early." Elizabeth pushed the up button of the elevator. She'd just wait quietly, watching and listening to how Methos was teaching Claire, and maybe if they're covering history, modern history at least, she could perhaps join in. The Civil War was a subject that Elizabeth would demand not be taught by Methos. Maybe she really could help tutor Claire in all sorts of things. Methos hadn't answered when she had suggested it earlier, but she'd bring up the subject again when she felt that Methos was ready to hear suggestions from her.

As she walked into the elevator, she practiced the calming techniques that Dr. Stone had quickly shown her toward the end of their session. She wanted Elizabeth to see another doc at the clinic to get some pills. When she had first suggested that, thoughts of being brainwashed by James came to mind, and Elizabeth had cut her off. Thinking about it later, it might help to have a little pill to calm her the way a shot of whiskey would. What she'd give for a shot right now...

On the eighth floor, Elizabeth teased herself when she actually got off the elevator on the right floor, still embarrassed at how she freaked and went up to the twelfth and had to walk back down. At least no one seemed to hold it against her. Methos didn't audibly anyway. What he must think of her... she felt an overwhelming sense of regret as she walked to their door. She would be thoughtful when dealing with Methos from now on. She would show him love, even though he would probably not want it, or worse be offended by it.

Whatever happened, she was ready. She flipped her hair back, took a deep breath as Methos' buzz swirled within her, and pushed the bell. Immediately, Methos opened the door and said, "Come in."

She took that as a great sign. Gotta take the gestures when they were given. Methos walked to the table that still held the textbooks that were stacked up, and indicated the pot. "Want some coffee?"

"Ah," Elizabeth didn't know how to handle him being nice. She had hoped for it, but she didn't expect it. "Sure. Where's Claire?"

"Brooding, and getting dressed. She'll be out in the minute."

"How did class go?"

"Her mind was on other things, like what you have planned for her today."

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"She should be focusing on her studies."

"What's her wandering mind got to do with you?"

"Nothing, I guess, if you say so. I guess I'm sorry that you have to be the one to make her do work things while I can come in here and do the fun things. It must be hard."

"Well, it's not so bad because you realize the positions we're in."

Elizabeth fingered the text books and saw American History. "Hey, you think I can help out with this?"

Methos displayed a breath-taking smile. She wondered if he knew how powerful some of his movements were, and if he used them on purpose. Did he want to put her on edge? Be nice to her, make her remember how sexy he was, then come in for the kill?

"I bought that book so you could."

"You're kidding," she said guardedly.

"Why would I kid about Claire's education?"

"You mean it? You actually bought that book so I can teach Claire too?"

"Yes. Liz, I'm not a monster. I know you're her mother, and you should take up some of the slack now that we're staying here."

Elizabeth's insides turned to mush from happiness. "Thanks. No, you're not a monster. I'm sorry if I ever gave you the impression that you were." She was so happy, all sorts of things wanted to flood out of her mouth, but she just bite her lip, smiled, and drank in the feeling of being wanted. For now, that was all she wanted. In time, hopefully, things would progress.

He poured her a cup of coffee from the pot and handed it to her. "Thank you," she said, then sipped. "My God! Chocolate Macadamia Nut. That's my favorite."

"I couldn't resist when I saw it on the menu. It's actually pretty good. Rich, but good."

He sat down on the couch, and must be comfortable, as he did his trademark sprawl.

"All right, what are you doing?"

"Hm?" His eyes were wide with interest as he sipped from his cup.

"No berating me, putting me in my place, making me feel-"

"I can if you want, but isn't it nicer to just know our boundaries and make life as pleasant as possible?"

Boundaries? Dr. Stone had mentioned boundaries and knowing where to draw lines or open communication and what's expected versus hoped for in the session. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "Do you know what I did this morning?"

"No. What did you do this morning? Sleep in? Go shopping with Amanda?"

"No, I didn't. I was up early actually." Not that she slept well anyway and it was better to get up than get a headache by continuing to lay down.

"Busy little bee," he replied in a somewhat snippy manner that made Elizabeth realize that his pleasantries were not going to be the norm. "What did you do?"

"Forget it. I'll get Claire."

"Why are you ruining the moment?"

Elizabeth spun around. "What moment is that? Making fun of me? I'm not going to be your punching bag."

She stalked to Claire's room when Methos said, "I wasn't making fun of you. I was just talking. I'm sorry."

"Well, it was a peculiar expression to use. Do you think I'm plotting and planning behind your back?"

"No." Methos raised an eyebrow and turned away as if he had entered territory he didn't want to get into. He sipped his coffee in peace and Elizabeth felt bad for snapping at him.

She wasn't going to tell him about her morning, but then realized that she was busting to let him know. If she did tell him, she had no idea how he would react. He could either be encouraging as Duncan or he could belittle her because she was sick and needed help. Why was pain in the head more taboo than a bloody wound or broken arm?

"Liz, I'm sorry." Those words brought her back the present situation, wondering if she had dreamt it or he had actually said them. She turned back to him to see that he did appear sorry. "It was just an expression. What did you do this morning?"

"You'll just laugh, think you're better than me, which you're not." Damn it, she had spent a lot of time over the years dealing with his messes, and the latest was still making her feel like a spinning top, a pile of scum, or a bowl of Jello, depending on which words he chose to fling at her.

"I don't think you're better or worse than me. I'm bloody pissed at you. Disappointed," he said tightly, but paused and asked again, "What did you do?"

"All right, I went to see someone."

"A friend?"

Elizabeth knew that Methos was probably starting to get bored by the conversation, looking toward the TV and probably wondering where the remote was. "A psychologist."

He looked straight at her with surprise. She prepared herself for what he had to say about that. Methos was quiet for a moment while he repositioned himself on the couch to get a straight on look at her. His eyes were soft, his mouth wasn't the least bit clenched. "That's wonderful."

"It is? I mean, yes, it is. I should have seen someone like her a long time ago."

"Maybe you will come to some obvious conclusions finally. Do you like her?"

"What conclusions?"

Methos shrugged. "If you don't know, how can I possibly tell you?"

"That I betrayed you? That you loved me and trusted me and trusted me with your head, and I almost took it?"

Now that she uttered the Cliff Notes version of the discovery that had occupied her mind for what seemed like an eternity and filled her with grief it didn't sound so dire. In fact it sounded matter of fact.

"Yeah, that, and it's good you realize that, but there's more."

"What?"

"If I have to tell you, it doesn't mean anything."

"Just tell me, and we'll see what happens."

"That's not going to happen."

"What?"

"We're not ever getting back together, Liz. I was worried you'd get that impression. It's not true, so get it out of your head. I came to New York only to bring Claire here because she misses you, and I'm not one to break the familial bonds. It's fine that you have a relationship with her. Spend time with her, be her mother, as long as you know one thing: she will always be in my care." He added as an afterthought, "Two things. You'll not fight my decisions."

"Let me just say that for the moment I agree wholeheartedly with you, and I appreciate you did come here, but that was awfully condescending, and that, I don't appreciate."

"Touché. Just so we know what page we're both on. I'll allow you to be around, but from now on, you're always in front of me. You're never behind me where I can't see what you're doing."

She reacted as if slapped, but then with her newly-found conclusion of what he was going through, she realized he said it as tactfully as he could. "Fine, walking in front of you is fine with me. That is, if you don't want my head. Do you?"

"No."

"Good. Can I trust you?"

"Can I trust you?"

"Yes, you can, Methos. There are no quickenings talking anymore."

When he scoffed, she told him, "We're on the same page if you don't degrade me anymore. You have no idea what happened back there. You have no idea what I was going through. Until you open yourself up to seeing things from my side as I have about your side, we're-"

"I have to say, when I woke up to your sword above my head, all worries about how you think went right out the window. I'll allow you to see Claire, but if you ever hurt her, you-"

"What?!"

She could tell that she had taken him by surprise cutting off his litany, but he continued, "If the situation was reversed, if I almost took your head, you wouldn't be big enough to let me see her. You'd get the Highlander to make sure that didn't happen. As if it would, but you see the difference? You almost killed me! You think I don't worry that you might hurt Claire, even accidently? What if 'the voices'," he said with a low tone. "Came to you."

"They won't!" She took a deep breath to pause, and mercifully, Methos did the same. "Let's not talk, all right?"

"Fine."

"I can't believe you think I'd hurt Claire."

"I thought we weren't going to talk."

"Why do you think I'd hurt her?"

"Why would I have thought you'd want to hurt me?"

"I didn't." She knew that he may never understand that she never wanted to hurt him. In fact, she lived two months fighting off the voices to avoid just that. "I almost cut off my own hand because I didn't want to be physically able to take you in the stables."

"What?"

"I'm not repeating it." She moved to the door, but Methos stopped her, grabbing her hand as she passed the back of the couch.

"I didn't hear you. What did you say?"

"Remember when I almost cut off my hand? Why did you think I did that?"

"I have no idea."

"Think about it. Try, anyway. Please? For the years we had together. Please at least wonder about it?" When he sat like a statue, she said, "All right. Let me draw you a picture. It was my hand or your head. I made a choice. Do you even remember what I said afterwards when we were laying together in bed? Hm?" He just looked long and hard at her. "It was around the time I said I was glad Claire wasn't there. Did you remember anything else?"

Claire walked in the room. "I'm ready," she said stonily.

"Claire, get back in your room," Methos ordered.

"No. That's all right. You think it over."

Claire took Elizabeth's hand and said, "Let's go, Mom. I want to enjoy myself until the next time Hitler makes me-"

"Hitler?" Elizabeth reacted. "Obviously you need more tutelage if you equate a concerned father teaching his daughter Math to a madman who tried to wipe out an entire nationality, and almost succeeded, young lady."

Claire's eyes grew wide with surprise and she stood rooted by the door. "Apologize, now."

"Sorry, Dad."

"I'm not sure you deserve to do anything today." Elizabeth had moods she couldn't deal with, she couldn't let her daughter sink into that kind of behavior. Those boundaries Dr. Stone, and Methos, mentioned... well, she was setting them right now. She wasn't going to go around in circles with Methos anymore, and she wasn't going to let Claire do anything she wanted just to get back into her daughter's good graces.

"I'm sorry, Mom. Dad, I'm sorry," Claire quickly expressed. "It just came out. I don't want to study, I'm on vacation, and I'm with you. I haven't seen you for so long. Please, don't be mad at me again. I don't want you to be mad anymore. Don't leave."

Elizabeth looked to Methos on the couch, who seemed to have been listening with intensity. She cleared her throat, gathered her strength, and said, "Come over here." She pointed Claire to the couch by Methos, and took a seat on the coffee table. Claire trudged to the couch, let her backpack fall off her shoulder, and sat down.

"Things are different now, Claire, and it doesn't make you, me, or your dad happy. But, we have to work together as a family in order to make things work. Things aren't going to be the way they were before. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is. You're going to live with your father, I'm going to be close at hand, and if there's anything you need to talk to me or your dad about, we're listening. But, we're not going to take lip from you. Drop the attitude. We know what's best for you." As she was talking, her stern determination to instruct her daughter on the proper way to behave started to crumble. She had been speaking for the both of them, and she didn't know how Methos was taking it. She had been too anxious to look at him to find out. Not that he wore his emotions on his sleeve, but she knew him well enough that she could tell.

"As your father said this morning, education is important. I'm not going to raise an ignorant child who's not prepared for the world. I'm not going to raise a brat, either. You have to give your dad and I a little more time to figure out what we're going to do, where we're going to settle, if I can find a job, and how life is going to be for you because it's been a bit busy lately."

She knew she was losing it, using the wrong words as her thoughts and what she wanted to relate to her became a jumble in her head. She had Claire's attention, but it wasn't coming out as she hoped. Thankfully, Methos picked up the slack.

"We're not perfect, Claire. We may make mistakes. One thing you can count on is that even though your mom and I don't feel the same way about each other, we know what's best for you, and we're not going to let your life suffer. That means, wherever we are, you're having two hours of classes a day. Tough life, kid. Most kids go to school for six, and some poor souls have incompetent teachers."

"I want to go to a regular school."

"It's good you want something. That makes you work harder for it. Pay attention while being schooled and respect both of us, and only then will we talk about it," Elizabeth told her confidently.

Claire looked to her father for some sort of back up, Elizabeth may have been too forceful. She started to feel weak again, thinking she may have gone too far. She had promised Methos she wouldn't stomp on his decisions, and that probably also meant discipline. When Elizabeth looked to Methos, he grabbed his cup and stood up. "Listen to your mother."

"Okay. I'm sorry. I know you're not Hitler, Dad."

"Gee, thanks."

"Do you think she deserves to go skating at Rockefeller Center and have cheesecake at Murray's, then take in a movie?" Elizabeth asked Methos.

"Well, I don't know. Maybe we should call a babysitter, and you and I'll go."

Elizabeth smiled wide at that, and because of Methos' grin. She could tell that he had appreciated her words, even though she was still rattled from having said them. She looked back at the pleading look on Claire. "Maybe Duncan is back from shopping. Should I call him?"

"No. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Let me go," Claire begged. "I'll be good."

"You are always good, Claire. Just don't act mean."

"I won't. Ever."

Elizabeth and Methos looked at each other, and then to Claire. Elizabeth shrugged. "Oh, all right."

When Claire hugged her, she looked to Methos, who didn't look unhappy. He already had his coat from the closet and telling them to get a move on.

Continued