THE ELIZABETH SERIES
CHAPTER 72
ONE STEP AT A TIME
by JoLayne
RATING: PG
CHARACTERS: Methos, Duncan, Amanda, Amy, OC's Elizabeth, Claire, Dr. Stone, Jonathan, Megan, Nick, Mike
SUMMARY: Elizabeth feels even worse when, what she thought was a 'quick fix', seeing a therapist wasn't. Amy is brought into the matter of the Crusaders.
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.
~~~~~
FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 2013
NEW YORK CITY
It never ceased to amaze Elizabeth how New York City always managed to function smoothly. Just two days after the massive blizzard, there was really not much of a trace of snow left on the streets and sidewalks. She didn't know where they hauled it all, and it must have been pricey to clear it, but the city couldn't function with two feet of snow on the sidewalks.
Walking with Claire and Methos to Rockefeller Center on the crisp yet sunny afternoon was the best feeling she had experienced in months. She really did feel at home in the city, and her wish was that one of the five resumes she had mailed to prospective employers in the city would produce results. Having a great job, finding a great place to live, continuing her sessions with Dr. Stone, and Methos not fighting her visitation with Claire, would be heaven right there on earth.
One step at a time, Liz, she told herself although the thought of her and Methos getting back together was always on her mind. She shouldn't rush it. Since she had first taken a gander at him in the suite, not wearing anything unusually nice or new, but seeming to have lost the instant look of disdain as soon as he spotted her, made her more confident. Enough at least to hope their getting back together would no longer need a miracle, but could actually happen. One day. She just knew it could. Hopefully. If she played her cards right.
The things she had asked Dr. Stone about after the initial digging into her background was over were all about reaching Methos. What she could do to let him know how guilty she felt. How to explain about what happen in the house, how she foster his belief that he could still trust her, and how could she make him realize that he still had love for her. Even a quarter of the love he had shown her during their decade together would be fabulous.
In terms of Claire, Dr. Stone had advised that the best way for her to feel more in control of herself and to calm her anxiety was to nurture. If Claire needed anything at all, Elizabeth should try to give it to her, within reason. She shouldn't forget that Claire might be playing one parent against the other and reach for the moon; she shouldn't forget that she was also the child's mother, not her best friend. Nurturing was something that Elizabeth had no trouble with, and cherished each moment they spent together, and Claire was a good kid.
On the other hand, Dr. Stone had advised her not to do anything rash with her husband. She shouldn't push anything, just see how he took things. So far, it seemed he was taking things nicely. Hell, we're going ice skating. Something we've never done together. He might want to spend the rest of the day with Claire and I; maybe there's a chance we can really talk tonight alone.
She didn't want to plan, hope for how things would turn out, she would just take things as they came. However, there was a definite spring in her step as they walked to the skate rental booth.
~~~~~
As Methos helped Claire get her skates on, he suggested that it had been a while since she skated, "So take it easy out there. Don't think you're Peggy Fleming."
"Who?" Claire asked as Elizabeth snickered.
His mind was a blank for a name of any other nameless, faceless, wunderkind of the skating world. "Sonja Henie?"
"Sarah Hughes, Mia Blankenship," Elizabeth listed.
"Oh," Claire remarked with a smirk at Methos. "Don't worry about that." She got to her feet, uneasily with the skates, and said, "I'm ready. Let's go."
"As soon as I lace up." Elizabeth was in the midst of tying the second skate.
Methos had rented three pairs, but it had been decades since he had slid upon the ice. The last time being when he landed flat on his arse so he decided to save his dignity. He had his flat, all purpose, slick resistant boots on the two times he had taught Claire to skate when she was younger. With the day having turned out better than he had expected, he didn't want to embarrass himself with another ungraceful fall.
"Why don't you two go while I sit here and watch," he offered breezily.
"Come on, Dad." Claire took his hand.
"No, my back's kind of out of whack today. I might join in later. Go on ahead."
He saw Elizabeth's expression, she knew he was just making excuses, and he expected her to toss out some barb. All she did to call him on it was grin. "Don't be long, this should be fun. Come on, Claire."
She clamped her hand in Claire's, and together they shakily padded to the gate of the rink. Methos watched them hesitantly take the ice, then steadily grow stronger on their feet after a while. Elizabeth had even started skating backwards. He half expected her to do a spin of some sort. He wondered if she was performing for him. She did look elegant on the ice, looked to be having fun. Not like she had since almost slicing his head off.
Sudden heat flushed through his body just recalling her ultimate act of betrayal. She was tenderly doting on Claire, who was making progress remembering how to keep her balance and becoming more self-assured on her skates. Before he could help himself after Claire went down on her knees, Methos walked out on the ice to pick his daughter up and ask her if she was all right.
Claire was in the midst of a giggling fit as he got her to her feet. "Are you okay?" he repeated, brushing the wetness from her snow pants.
"I'm fine, Dad. I just slipped."
"That's what you're supposed to do on ice, slip. You just have to do it with finesse."
"Like Mom." Claire pointed to Elizabeth skating back across the ice to them quickly.
"Are you all right, Claire? I'm sorry I took off. I didn't mean to leave you. Did you hurt your leg?"
"I'm fine. I just fell." Claire barked, probably because she wanted all of her foibles to be glossed over as of late. She had totally become a young person who could take care of herself and wanted to stop being treated like a baby.
Methos joked, "Good thing you didn't have far to fall down."
"I'm really sorry, Daniel. I know I should have been watching her."
"Just forget it." Claire took Elizabeth's hand, and Methos' in the other, and said, "Let's just skate. I won't fall again."
Yes, Claire wanted things her way and didn't want to be smothered, but why was she so hell bent on making sure that Elizabeth was in on everything? She had wanted to come to see her, had mostly had to push and prod her mother into returning to New York, and seemingly had forced their reunion. She had been so pleading with her mother when Elizabeth had gotten angry at her Hitler remark, as if the world would end if her mother was mad at her. He'd certainly have to have another talk with Claire once they got back to the hotel and Elizabeth wasn't around. The girl seemed to be a different person in the presence of her mother. Had Elizabeth told her more about what happened in the house than she should have? She couldn't have been so stupid as to tell her about immortality or that Claire was a premmie, could she?!
He let Claire's hand slip from his as they both skated forward quite slowly. Judging by how Elizabeth had reacted when Claire fell, she couldn't have told her. Claire couldn't keep such a secret, either. Methos slid to the rail and held on as he watched his child skate around the circle holding her mother's hand. She was finding her feet again. Once on skates, you never forget how. Elizabeth was actually acting quite motherly to Claire, he could tell she wanted to go faster and take more risk, but Claire held her back. But not for long. Soon, they were skating around people as they took the circle, passing him three times, each time a little faster than the last. When they neared him again, Claire called, "Come on, Dad!" but they were past him before he could choose to go along with them.
Eventually, not wanting them to have all the fun, and hearing Claire's gleeful squeals as they skated faster and faster, he joined them on the next round, keeping up as best he could in his boots.
"I want to go myself," Claire declared and dropped both of her parents' hands.
"Just be careful," Elizabeth called as she kept up behind her. "Remember, bend your knees, and keep your head up."
"She's inherited your grace," she told him.
"That's an odd statement to make considering she isn't from my loins."
"Of course not, but you've raised her almost since birth, and she has many of your attributes."
He didn't know whether to be proud or hesitant from that statement. Was that a barb about her falling down? What was so odd about dealing with Elizabeth since she almost separated his head from his shoulders; was that he never knew if there was an ironic flavor to everything that came out of her mouth.
Deciding to ignore thinking through everything that was said and done, he just watched Claire getting more and more confident in her skating. He knew it would just be a matter of time before she would be crying. Or giggling. He wondered if Claire was an unusual child or not. To fall on your knees and come up giggling? Sometimes she amazed him. She didn't do what was expected of her. It certainly made life interesting.
Elizabeth smiled at him and started out skating slowly. She acted as if she wanted him to follow. Maybe she wanted to talk to him. Maybe try to talk him into taking her back. When Claire passed them, Methos walked along as Elizabeth skated. He could at least have a good laugh at what she'd try to do and how she would go about it. His curiosity made him catch up with Elizabeth and wait for her to speak.
All she did was call out support to Claire and smile. He hadn't seen her smile for so long, and she seemed to be doing it so light and easily. Methos had to admit that he had missed that smile. It was a smile that had previously lift his spirits. After a long day with the horses when they lived in California, she would give him a massage. After a day of swimming while on the yacht, she would come to him with a cold beer. After a day of writing a textbook while they lived in Seacouver, she would have a meal waiting for him. It was during those days that she didn't cook herself, but she knew exactly which restaurant would prepare exactly what he was hungry for, without even asking him.
When she faltered on her own skates after putting such attention to her daughter's, she slipped. Methos caught her before she fell, and then felt himself waver. He knew his boots were going to come out from under him, and it happened so fast that the next thing he knew he was flat on his back with Elizabeth sprawled on top of him.
"You make a good cushion," she said between chuckles. She stared right into his eyes so deeply that he felt she was looking into his soul.
He couldn't turn away from her gaze. Her face was pink from the cold, or because of their close proximity. Methos scrutinized her and lifted her long hair back behind her shoulder to really see all of her. She took his hand and held it to her face. "You're so cold, you should have bought some gloves for yourself, too."
As she sat up beside him and warmed his hand, he once again felt taken care of by her. He could just let it happen. He wanted to, for the moment. But he couldn't. He snatched his hand away and got back to his feet. He couldn't think of Elizabeth in any way he had in the past. It wasn't fair to him, and probably wasn't fair to her either. She had almost ended his long life. He had to remember that. There wasn't any way he could trust her with his head, love, or life again. Never.
He called for Claire. "Come on back. I'm starving. Time for dinner."
~~~~~
As Elizabeth lay in a fetal position on her bed in that small, claustrophobic rented room, she was disappointed she hadn't got to spend more time with Methos and Claire. Methos had pulled away from her so quickly at the rink, almost as if he was pissed, that she had planned falling, hoping he would catch her, then fall together to the ice. First he did all these things to make her happy: bringing Claire to New York, allowing her to help with Claire's teaching, going skating that afternoon... then he pulled away from her as if she was a parasite. They never did go to dinner and a movie. He had basically ignored her as they made their way back to the hotel, so she had offered to leave them alone, never thinking they'd take her up on it. Methos had said that he would like Claire to get to bed early and get schooling in before noon. Then she "could do something with her." With her. Only her. He hadn't said he had plans for the three of them, and didn't seem to want in on what she and Claire might plan.
The day had gone so well that she had just naturally assumed she would be invited to dinner, and maybe even spend the night with them. She didn't mean to spend it "with" Methos. Of course not. Sleeping on that big couch in the big living area would be heaven. No offer was made. Not even from Claire. They were probably having a good laugh at her expense right now, about how they had pulled one over on her. Imagine her thinking she was special enough to have dinner with us and rent a movie, she imagined them saying.
Elizabeth began to think she shouldn't have snapped at Claire about her "Hitler" comment. Maybe that was why she didn't want to have her stay with them longer. Dr. Stone had told her that she needed to nurture her daughter, not be strict. A wobbly feeling of uncertainty about everything she had done the last day made her want to reach for a bottle of whiskey to calm herself. If she could just drink the night away, maybe she'd do better in the morning...
The phone rang and brought her out of her thoughts, and she rolled over immediately to answer it. It was probably Methos telling her he couldn't sleep and wanted some company! "Hello?!" she forcefully answered.
"Ms. Gordon, I'm so sorry for bothering you so late, but we're wondering if you're going to check out in the morning or not. There's a note on your file that you'd let us know by 6:00."
"No, I guess I won't be."
"How many days will you be staying with us?"
"I have no idea."
"Should I put the next week on your credit card?"
Elizabeth started crying, as she said yes. "And can you send a bottle of whiskey up?"
"Yes, ma'am. Which brand?"
"Whatever. Just make it quick."
Elizabeth hung up and let the tears flow. She looked around the small room, which only made her feel worse. She had only rented the room for two days because she thought once she reunited with them, she wouldn't have to stay there alone.
"Damn it," she moaned as she punched the pillow and laid her head down roughly upon it. "What did I do?"
~~~~~
It was after ten when Amy finally trudged to the door of the hotel where she and her family were staying, loaded down with shopping bags. After she had 'put Methos to bed,' knowing that he was probably not going anywhere else for the night, she had gone shopping. She had been able to spend most of the day with Guy, for a change, a really nice change, as they were once again watching a couple together. How long it would last was anyone's guess, but she would enjoy it while it lasted. She hoped Methos and Elizabeth would find their way back to each other. Not only because they were friends and she wanted the best for them, but also selfishly so that she could see her husband more often. They had dinner at the St. Regis just after Methos, Elizabeth, and Claire had returned, and then Guy told her to go shopping, probably because she had complained too loudly that she had things to pick up.
Amy wondered how Katie was feeling and how bored Joey was to gauge what kind of mood Guy would be in when she got upstairs. She hadn't just bought gifts. She had bought a new neglige and a bottle of vintage, and hoped he wasn't too tired. Then she laughed. "Guy too tired for sex? That'd be the day."
As the doorman opened the door for her, she smiled her thanks. Just as she was going to walk through the door, the man put a handkerchief over her mouth and pulled her away from the entrance. She fought with all her might after dropping the bags, but soon she lost control of herself. Her limbs felt as if they were cooked spaghetti. Darkness was starting to close in. She felt herself being lifted when she lost consciousness.
~~~~~
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 2013
Elizabeth woke up to sunlight on her face with the still-unopened bottle of whiskey near her hand on the bed. She yawned, stretched, then sat up and took the bottle in her hands trying to decide whether to open it or not. She thought it would make her feel better; but then again, she had fallen asleep without having any. That was a good step, she encouraged herself.
The large red neon numbers of the alarm clock formed 6:38, and she honestly didn't know if it was morning or night. Not being able to judge how much sleep she had gotten, it could have been night; she wouldn't put it past Methos and Claire not to have called on her at all. Or, it could be morning and then she wondered what time Methos would start schooling Claire. She'd better get ready if it was morning. She tried to get herself up off the bed, but had no ambition. First things first. She had to figure out whether it was dawn or dusk. In order to make sure what time it was, she found the remote at the end of the bed to see if Matt Lauer or Brian Williams was on.
Jeopardy was on one channel, some home improvement show on another. If only she had a home to improve. The last one... well, she had a part in its improvement..... burning it to the ground. For the first time since leaving Amy's house in Kent, Elizabeth realized that she hadn't heard Pyrius talk to her while she was awake. Sure, he still fluttered through her dreams, but less and less over time. She was awake, wasn't she?
When she felt an immortal sensation sweep over her, she knew she had to be. A gnawing sense of dread rose within her when there was a knock on her door. The hope that it was Methos played with her teetering emotions. If she answered it and it was him, would he be mad or wanting a favor? Want her head or take her to dinner? Something might have happened to Claire!
She ran to the door and yanked it open without even checking to see who it was. As soon as she saw Duncan she was relieved then berated herself for not looking first. It could have been some asshole immortal staying at the hotel who had the balls to challenge as soon as she was felt.
"Good morning," he greeted her with a smile.
"Oh, thanks." Now she knew for certain what time frame she was in. At least one person in her life wanted to see her. She could always count on Duncan. But then again, she didn't want to. She didn't want to use him as a crutch, only as a friend, and be able to have good old fashioned give and take relationship with him. It seemed to her that she had been doing a lot of taking lately.
"For what?"
"Oh, nothing. How are you?"
"I have to admit, I'm a little upset."
"Oh? Something I did?"
"No, why? What did you do?"
"I don't know. Never mind. What's the problem?" Then she felt a glow. "Hey, you came to me with a problem, that I didn't cause. Cool."
"You know women better than I do."
Elizabeth gasped. "You're admitting you don't know women? Maybe I am still dreaming."
"Huh?"
"It was a joke. Sorry."
"It's Amanda."
"Okay. Sit down, on the bed I guess. I don't have any chairs in here."
Duncan sat on the edge of the bed, and looked around the tiny room. "It is quite tight in here, isn't it? There aren't any other spare rooms in the entire hotel?"
She hadn't thought of that, and the hotel hadn't offered one. Not knowing whether to be embarrassed or pissed off, she just shrugged. It would be first on her to-do list for the day. Get out of this crummy room.
She sat next to him on the bed, hoping she didn't smell from sweating during the night. Long past were the days when she would sweat at night for any reason other than experiencing a bad dream. "What about Amanda? Oh hey! It's morning. Did you spend the night together?" she asked eagerly.
"No."
"Oh."
"You think I'd just fall into bed with her?"
"She is your wife."
"Methos is your husband, but I don't see that happening."
"Thank you," she said abruptly.
"For a while, anyway."
"What about Amanda?"
"I got up this morning and went to the gym. When I got back, there was a note on the floor of my room. She obviously passed it under the door while I was working out."
"What did she say? She didn't take off, did she?"
"No. It was to tell me that she'd be in Methos' suite, so when I... WHEN I, not IF I, but WHEN I call her, I'd know where she'll be."
Elizabeth didn't know how to react to that. It did sound like her. Of course Amanda took things for granted. She liked to have things in order. Elizabeth asked, "You were going to call her, though, right?"
"That's beside the point."
"Ok." Elizabeth grinned, then chuckled. "So your wife knows you'll call and wanted you to know where to reach her."
"At his place. Why is she always with him if she wants back with me?"
"Well, I can only hope it's because I asked her to continue being there for Claire, so maybe she wanted to get up there and wake her up, make sure she brushes her teeth, gets dressed, and is not sassy at school."
"Isn't that your job?"
It was, but she wasn't welcome to do it. Duncan stood up, and even though the poor man looked like he wanted to pace a hole in the carpet, there wasn't much room for him to accomplish it. "Or his job! Why does she insist on being with him all the time if she loves me as much, as she claims?"
"To show you that she's maternal?"
"Why are you sticking up for her?"
"I'm not. I'm looking at both sides."
"You know they're together, still."
"No, they're not. I know she wasn't lying to me when she said it was just that one night."
"Why did they do it that night?"
"Why did we?"
"Because..." His face fell and he leaned back against the TV armoire. "I didn't make love to you because they did. I hope you don't think that."
"I don't. But, you have to know that our being together has affected Amanda."
"But I'm not with you... well, I guess I am."
"You're not 'with' me, you're just talking to me. Which is great, by the way. Maybe she's just talking to Methos."
"I don't get women."
Elizabeth knew that Duncan was feeling awful and his mind was reeling, but he was so cute when he pouted. "I just don't know how she could claim she loves me one minute and then sleep with him the next."
"They'd done it before. Many times, I'm afraid." She wished he would drop that angle of the conversation as it was starting to make her hot under the collar. She had chosen not to dwell on it, but he was making it impossible.
"I can't look at Amanda and Methos together without picturing them together. Valentine's night was awful. I just kept picturing them in various positions."
"Wow, well, you kept up a good front."
"I have my pride."
"Yet, you bought her a present the next day."
"Because she got me one."
He sat back down on the bed, his shoulders slumped. Elizabeth massaged them. It wouldn't only make him feel better, but herself too.
"That's not the only reason. Come on, admit it."
"It wasn't. I love her. I always will. It's just that..." He turned around to look at her, then he admitted a horrible truth. "I just don't think I can forgive her for sleeping with him."
"Well, I might as well dig a hole and climb into it if you can't forgive her for that. Methos will never forgive me for almost taking his head."
"He might not. Have you thought about that?"
"I have, of course I have. We've talked about it. I know that. It's impossible... but, then I see signs of him like he was... You know, I know he might never forgive me. But in order to live, I have to hope."
"Don't be disappointed if it doesn't happen." When he saw her start to tear up, he told her, "Well, maybe if he hears it from Amanda and I, he'll come to understand what you were and are going through."
"I don't want you to talk to him about anything but the weather."
"Why not?"
"Because when you two talk about anything important, fists fly. I don't want either of your gorgeous noses broken, even for a second. There's been enough violence, hate, betrayal. It's nice to just be together, isn't it?"
"True. I don't want to talk about the future with Amanda, but I do like being around her."
~~~~~
Amanda was sitting cross legged in a yoga position on the floor reading the latest Vogue as Claire and Methos were having class. "Are you done yet?" she asked, yawning, as she turned the page.
"Yeah, are we?" Claire asked her father.
Methos looked at his watch. "Hm. An hour and a half before you got fussy. Not bad." He shut the book and smiled at Claire. "Thank you for getting up early and working seriously on this."
"I don't want to be ignorant, Dad. I just wanted a break. And Mom would be proud of me."
"She is."
"Can I call her now?"
"Sure."
"What can I tell her we're doing today?"
"I'm thinking of MOMA. There's an exhibit I want to see."
"What's that?"
"Modern art."
Claire chuckled. "That'll be a change."
Claire kissed Methos' cheek and ran to the phone. Amanda didn't know when she had seen Claire so happy. After talking with Methos last night, he said he wanted to get studies out of the way early so Claire could have the fun she craved. So, Amanda made sure she got the girl out of bed and ready.
Claire slammed the phone down hard enough for Amanda to jump in her stance. "What is it?"
"Mom's phone is busy."
"So that's a reason to slam the phone?" Methos declared. "What's gotten into you?"
"Just call again in a few minutes," Amanda offered sweetly.
Claire moaned as she rushed to her room, "Who's she talking to?"
Amanda looked to Methos, who looked to the heavens. "She's picking up more of her mother's habits every day. Maybe we should just go back to Paris."
~~~~~
Amy was very angry when the vehicle she was riding in stopped. Her hands had been tied behind her back, and she was blindfolded, for what seemed like an eternity. She yelled, "Let me go, you bastards! I have children! My little girl needs me!"
The blindfold was pulled off, and Amy saw that she was in the back of a van. The people who had taken her were a blond man, a fat man, and... "Megan Willis? What's the meaning of this?"
"Ms. Barstow, we're asking the questions," the Blond Man stated flatly.
The Fat Man added forcefully, "And you're answering them."
"Megan, I have to get home." She sat up, painfully because of how she was tied up, and was able to see outside. It was daylight, she could be anywhere by now. She was relived to see that they were still in New York City, or some city. "Untie me, now!"
The Blond demanded of her, "What are you up to?"
"What?"
"How do you know James Payson, and what did you do to him?"
"I have no earthly idea what you're blabbering about." Amy looked past the Blond in her face. "Megan! Let me go!"
"I can't, Ms. Barstow," Megan answered quietly. "This is very serious, and you have to answer our questions."
"Duncan MacLeod," the Blond Man stated grimly. "What are you planning with him? I know you're not going to confess what happened to the Paysons. You're only hope of living is to tell us what's planned for Duncan MacLeod."
"Only hope of living!?" When there was silence in the van and she could see that the Fat Man was holding a gun, she said, "I have no plans for Mac."
"Mac?" The Blond Man looked surprised. "So, you admit that you know him."
"Of course I know him. He's a friend of my father's."
"You're kidnaping friends?" the Fat Man asked. "Was James Payson a friend, too?"
"I've never heard of him. What is this all about? Megan! Untie me!"
"Ms. Barstow," Megan asked wondrously. "You're friends with Immortals? How can you keep your career?"
"You don't have all the answers, Megan." Amy jerked at the rope holding her hands behind her back as she straightened her body. There was a terrible cramp in her leg that she wished she could work out. Looking at these three, she could tell that even though she had been friendly with Megan, something was up and they thought she had a part in it. "It's a new organization. I'd like to know who I'm talking to. Please, introduce us."
"Immortals?" the Fat Man asked. "What the fuck you talking about?"
The Blond Man shook his head. "I knew we wouldn't be able to keep this under wraps."
"I'm not saying one word until you tell me what's going on!" Amy yelled, then defiantly waited silently.
The men were looking at each other, the Fat Man looked like his eyes were going to bulge out in no time.
Megan asked, "You didn't send an encrypted email with James Payson and Duncan MacLeod named in it?"
"What?"
"Immortals?!" the Fat Man declared with a triumphant laugh. "That's what this is all about! You guys are Immortals!"
"No, idiot," the Blond Man yelled.
"I think you should explain Immortals to Beevus later, first," she said looking at the Blond Man. "Butthead, what the hell is going on?"
~~~~~
Elizabeth bade farewell to Duncan, on his way to take a shower, then she called down to the desk to demand that she get another room. One more fitting for someone who had money to burn, dammit! It wasn't like she hadn't frequented the hotel before. Not that they knew that, as she had used different names in the past, but just the same! They told her that Monday morning she could have a suite, for which she was thankful, and then realized that it would be right down the hall from Methos and Claire.
Things were looking up. She had to take charge of things. Sometimes, they'll turn out. She took a shower, then dressed casually for what she hoped would be a happy day. As she was putting on her makeup, the phone rang.
Claire asked, "Who were you talking to?" right away. No hello, good morning...
"Duncan stopped by earlier, is that what you mean?"
"I tried to call, but your line was busy."
"I was talking to the front desk. Why?"
There was a pause, so Elizabeth took a chance and said, "I'll be moving closer to you on Monday. I'll be right down the hall then."
"I wish you could stay here."
"I do too, honey, but one step at a time. Have you had breakfast yet?"
"Yeah, Aunt Mandy called down for pancakes."
"You love pancakes. Great."
"Do you want to go to the museum with us today?"
"I'd love to," she replied immediately. "I'll just finish up getting ready and come up to your suite."
"Okay. We'll be waiting."
"Uh, Claire? Did your dad say I could come?"
"Yeah. He's the one that wants to go to the museum. Might be boring, but at least we're all together."
"That's the spirit," Elizabeth said, smiling.
~~~~~
SUNDAY FEBRUARY 17, 2013
After a full day with Methos, Claire, Duncan, and Amanda, Elizabeth felt on top of the world as she rose after having slept soundly all night. It was amazing how different things looked from the other side. She had energy like she hadn't for months as she got out of bed. Remembering how Methos wasn't snippy and Claire looked to be enjoying herself during their day together made her flush with excitement. The thought of how guarded Duncan was with Amanda was something she would have to try to talk to Amanda about. If she couldn't get her own love life straightened out, if ever, at least she could focus on someone else's.
She looked at the time, and realized that they were all going to meet for brunch at the Cajun, so she'd better hurry. The thought of it made her almost emotional. A great meal with live jazz, her family, her friends, her birthday. Elizabeth wondered if anyone remembered it was her 182nd birthday. She shrugged. Don't get your hopes up. We're together. That's all the present I need, she instructed herself in the mirror. No present could top that. None.
~~~~~
When Elizabeth, Methos, and Claire arrived at the Cajun, Duncan and Amanda were already at a table. Good thing too, because the place was packed. The club that normally had nightly jazz was still, in the light of a Sunday late morning, dark. The feast would be amazing, if the menu by the door was any indication.
There were already two glasses of champagne and a glass of what looked like mimosa waiting for them at the table. Seeing Duncan and Amanda sitting together seemed right, and because they were in the midst of conversation, Elizabeth wondered if they should hold back to allow them the time alone. Neither looked uncomfortable. Claire ran to the table to take a seat next to Duncan and announced, "We're here, Maconi," then immediately hid her face from him.
His smile, along with, "Why you...." made Elizabeth laugh. This was going to be such a pleasant meal, company, and ambiance.
She looked to Methos, who was still speaking with the maitre de, but then he walked past her to the table when he saw her watching him. She followed him and then sat down after he had already taken his seat.
She sat down just as Methos pointed at the glass in front of him. "What's that?"
"Non-alcoholic Mimosa," Amanda replied.
He traded his glass of mimosa for Claire's glass of champagne. "Ah, Dad...," Claire whined. "Can't I at least try it?"
"No," was his curt reply.
When Claire looked pleadingly to Elizabeth, she said, "Like I'm going to let you drink alcohol?"
Elizabeth would like to have had a glass of the nonalcoholic stuff herself. She knew what champagne usually did to her, made her feel loopy, and she wanted her wits about her. She also didn't want an appetizer, so to speak, after wanting that whiskey she tossed in the trash earlier. She was glad there was a glass of ice water in front of her also, as well as a filled pitcher in the middle of the table.
Later as the small talk flowed easily, Amanda asked her if she was going to drink her champagne. Elizabeth replied easily, "Nah, I don't want to fill up on it. Would you like it?"
"Don't mind if I do." Amanda peered at Duncan as she sipped from the glass.
Just then, their first courses for the meal arrived, a cup of Creole Gumbo. It was a nice start going well with the smells that were drifting through the place. A band had started up in the corner, and people started to drift to the buffet tables.
Amanda told Methos, Elizabeth, and Claire, "Why don't you guys go first? We'll stay with the purses."
Claire bounced off her chair. "Great, I'm starving!"
Elizabeth followed Claire to the buffet table and was amazed at the selection. Little cards indicated each dish: Stuffed Glazed Canadian Bacon with scrambled eggs and grits; New Orleans Pain Perdu; Eggs Benedict; Eggs Elizabeth (which she just had to put a bit of on her plate), which was poached eggs with crisp fried eggplant, covered with Sauce Choron; Eggs Hussarde, which was like Eggs Benedict but came with Sauce Marchand de Vin and crisp fried tomatoes; Louisiana Catfish; Roast Beef; Chopped Beef Bourguignonne; and assorted rices, grits, and fruit.
Methos commented that he needed side boards for his plate, which all of them filled right away. Elizabeth noticed that Claire screwed her face up looking at most of the dishes, and ended up filling her plate with roast beef and fruit.
They were all having such a good time, that when they went back for seconds, they would dance to the music. It was delightful to see Methos so loose and seemingly having fun. They hadn't really done more than small talk, but it was enough for her.
After going back to the buffet twice, Elizabeth was quite glad she hadn't drank before eating as much as she had. She sat back and was thinking of unbuttoning her pants, and wondered if someone could carry her back to the hotel.
Duncan lifted his glass of champagne and said, "A toast."
Everyone held up a glass in front of them, Elizabeth's was ice water. Duncan continued, "To Elizabeth on her birthday."
"Hear, hear," Amanda injected and drank down the rest of her glass.
"Thank you, thank you." Elizabeth noticed that Methos had tipped his glass in her general direction, but hadn't said anything. That was fine. He was there, he had allowed Claire to be, and he wasn't making a fuss.
Claire asked, "How old are you, Mom?"
"Thirty-three," Elizabeth responded quickly.
"Jeez, you're old."
All four immortals coughed, and Elizabeth just laughed. "Hey, I'm the youngest one at the table, not counting you."
"How old are you, Dad?"
All eyes went to him, then he stated, "Thirty-four."
Duncan grunted with a smile.
"How about you, Aunt Mandy?"
"A lady never tells her age, sweetie."
"Mom did."
They all laughed and then there was silence, they were all probably trying to digest their food as Elizabeth was. She told them, "Thank you for this. The food was great, the music is great, and I got to spend it with all of you."
"It's not over yet." Duncan leaned down between him and Amanda, and pulled out a present. Amanda did the same, and pulled out three more.
After an impromptu "Happy Birthday," Duncan rapped, "They say it's your birthday. It's my birthday too, yeah."
"It is, Mac?" Claire asked.
"No. It's the Beatles. You don't know the Beatles?"
"Yeah."
"She may not know the White Album, MacLeod," Methos said.
"Tragic," Duncan replied.
"A situation that will soon be remedied," Methos promised.
"Open them, Mom! Mine first!"
Claire reached to the gifts and gave Elizabeth the smallest one, which was wrapped in yellow paper with purple flowers and yellow ribbon. That they had remembered her birthday made her flush with gratitude, and that Claire had something for her was even better. She slowly unwrapped it, not wanting to rush it, to see a white box. Inside was a gold locket with delicate etching on it. "Oh, honey, it's beautiful."
"Open it."
Elizabeth pulled the locket out and clicked it open. Inside was a picture of Elizabeth on the left and a picture of Claire on the right. Elizabeth almost started to cry when she pulled her daughter into a hug. "It's perfect, honey. Thank you."
"Do you recognize the picture?"
"Of course, it was taken on the ship. You cut Joey out of the picture."
"No, not of me, of you."
Elizabeth looked at it, and couldn't place it. Claire said, "Dad gave that to me when you were gone when I was little. He said it was so I'd remember you. When was the picture taken, Dad?"
Elizabeth looked at Methos, who was staring at his glass, rubbing his finger over the rim. "When we lived in Seacouver. I gave that to her so she'd have something to remember you."
"Now that you're here, I don't need it to and thought you'd like it."
"Why have I never seen this?" Elizabeth was almost overcome. She hadn't known Methos had done such a thing. It had to have been while she was Angel Bancroft, so horribly ripped from her family.
"I have secrets, Mom," Claire stated matter-of-fact.
"Oh?"
She shrugged and smiled. "Do you like it? That's why I wanted to come here to see you mostly, so I could give that to you for your birthday and make sure you don't go away again."
"I love you so much. I'm not going anywhere. Thank you," Elizabeth cried to her daughter as Claire nestled her head in the crook of Liz's neck. She looked up to see how Methos was taking it, and he must have been looking mostly at Claire's back. He didn't seem mad. This had to be a great step forward.
"All right, all right. Next," Duncan said, putting the next present in front of her.
"You all didn't have to get me anything."
"Yeah, right. This is from me."
She took the present from Duncan as she wiped the tears from her eye. She opened it excitedly. When she looked at it, all she could tell was that it might be a vase or urn. It was pretty, but she had no idea. It was shaped like a vase, but there was only a slot at the top. It didn't open, so it wasn't a ginger jar. "Thank you, Duncan. What is it?"
"A hope jar."
"A what?"
"You write out your wishes and slip them into the jar."
"Then they come true?"
"No, the concept is, you know you wrote down your wish, you performed the ceremony of putting it into the jar, you know it's there, so you make it come true yourself."
"Just don't wish for anything stupid like winning the lottery, which you have no control over, right?" Methos asked.
"That's good advice." Duncan seemed a bit put out by Methos' snarky response, but kept his chin up. "It's a gift of strength."
"That's a lovely thought. I will certainly do that." She hugged Duncan, whispering, "Thanks, I need all the wish jars I can manage."
Amanda slipped her an envelop. "This is from me. It's not as high concept as Mac's, but I hope you like it. I know it will make you feel better."
"As if the locket and wish jar hasn't?" Elizabeth opened the envelop to read the lovely card's front about friendship. When she opened it, her eyes almost popped out. There was certificate for a weekend retreat at the spa she and Amanda were supposed to have been at when they went on their caper stealing Cameron James' Spanish coin collection.
"We didn't make it there the first time, we should go now."
"Bet your ass, this is great!" For Amanda to want to spend a weekend with her anywhere was another great sign.
"Mom swore," Claire said, looking to Methos.
"I'll spank her later."
Claire giggled and Elizabeth was taken aback. The slight shake of his head indicated to her that he didn't want her to take that as anything more than a joke.
"When do you want to go, Liz?" Amanda asked.
"We can go anytime. I'm totally game."
"Can I go?" Claire asked.
"Of course." Elizabeth brushed her hand through Claire's hair.
"Well, no she can't," Amanda said hesitantly. "This is an all women, all adult health spa. Sorry, kiddo. Definitely when you're older."
"Adults have all the fun," Claire groused, but only for a moment. She pulled the last present from the middle of the table, and said, "This is from Dad. I have no idea what it is."
"He kept a secret from you too?" Elizabeth almost said, 'more secrets,' and was happy she had edited herself.
"I know what it is, I just don't know what it is, you know?"
"I guess I'll find out."
Elizabeth felt the present which couldn't have been in a box. She could fold it. She wanted to take the time to guess what it was, but opened it instead. She was speechless when she saw that her teacher's soulcatcher was once again in her hands. Tears started to flow. She hadn't known where it was since she was taken by James. She had missed it on so many occasions while she was going through the aftermath of Bethany Stone Manor.
Duncan asked, "What is it?" as he leaned closer to see.
Elizabeth's voice caught when she tried to speak. She tore her eyes from the soul-catcher to look at Methos, who was smiling at her.
"I got it from my teacher," she was finally able to say.
"Your teacher? What kind of teacher? Were you home-schooled too?"
Elizabeth pulled Claire to her as she giggled. "He was a great man. Spiritual. Very wise. He also taught me about strength. I miss him very much."
Elizabeth couldn't help herself, she stood up and walked to Methos and kissed his cheek. "Thank you so much. You don't know what this means to me."
"I could guess. You're welcome. It is, after all, yours."
Methos held his hand on hers for a moment, then asked, "You're paying Mac? We should free up the table for the next party."
Elizabeth held the soulcatcher and locket to her chest as she smiled and followed behind Methos and Claire. Amanda tapped her on the shoulder. "You forgot your purse."
"Oh, and the jar."
"We have it. Don't worry," Duncan said, showing them to her.
He must have known that the littlest thing could make her fall apart. It was such a great feeling to be surrounded by friends and a daughter who loved her and took care of her. If only one certain man didn't feel the need to jerk away when things got too close.
~~~~~
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 2013
Dr. Julia Stone could hear the intern, Jonathan, whistling in the hall of the Uptown Resource Center since she had forgotten to close her door before reading some new journal and eating a Big Salad from Tom's Deli down the street. He walked into her office, his arms full of files. "Here's some more, Julia."
"Oh, transcriptions from my dictation? Great."
When she saw what was in the pile, half-finished Parental Capacity Evaluations, a final version of a Psychological Evaluation that had taken months to complete because the idiot kept canceling his testing appointments, and three DA's. "Thank you, Jon. That was fast."
"I aim to please."
Julia signed the Psychological, happy to get it off her desk and sent out after getting a string of calls from Linda at Voc Rehab about when it would be ready. If the subject's lack of perseverance in completing the Evaluation-which would determine if he was employable-was any indication, the man would be fired within a week.
She buzzed her assistant, Mary, to come and get the Eval out of her sight, with a smile, and then sat back on her chair and grabbed the first Diagnostic on the pile that needed editing.
DIAGNOSTIC ASSESSMENT
NAME: Elizabeth Gordon
DOB: 2-17-1980
DATE: 2-15-2013
REFERRAL INFORMATION
Elizabeth Gordon is a 32 year old, separated, Caucasian female who was self-referred for therapy after a separation from her husband and child.
PRESENTING PROBLEM
Ms. Gordon stated that after a traumatic experience three months ago which resulted in separation from her family, she has experienced night sweats, fatigue, irritability, sporadic anxiety, sleeplessness, and periods of unworthiness and hopelessness. She stated that her thinking is "okay," but during our initial session, I noticed a pessimistic bent to most of her responses.
SOCIAL/FAMILY HISTORY
Ms. Gordon stated that she never knew her birth parents and was adopted by a childless, married couple, Charles and Sarah. She has no siblings. She denied physical or sexual abuse during her childhood. She described her parents as "loving, funny, and dead." She was raised in Gettysburg, PA, where Ms. Gordon stated she had a happy childhood with many friends and received fair grades in school.
Ms. Gordon has been married three times and has an adopted daughter, Claire (DOB 5-24-2002). She was married for the first time when she was eighteen years old to Theodore Tennison. After her husband died (how Mr. Tennison died was unclear during the interview process), she moved to New York City. Her second husband was Eliot Abernathy of New York City, and that marriage ended in divorce after two years. Ms. Gordon and her third husband, Daniel, have been separated for three months, and their daughter is in his custody.
The separation has been difficult for Ms. Gordon, she described her husband as her "soul mate." When asked the reason for the separation, Ms. Gordon replied, "A series of misunderstandings, I usually sabotage relationships, and other things happened." Later in the session, she admitted she had attacked her husband but would not get more specific. The reason for the attack will be examined more thoroughly in future sessions after Ms. Gordon has grown to trust me and does not get upset as easily as during the initial session.
EDUCATIONAL/VOCATIONAL HISTORY
Ms. Gordon graduated from high school and attended college at the University of Pennsylvania. No academic or behavioral problems were noted, and she did not receive special education classes.
Ms. Gordon has worked as a professor for Civil War Studies and Modern History at various universities and high schools, most recently at New York University. She has been a stay-at-home mother since her third marriage and adoption of their daughter, Claire.
PREVIOUS MENTAL HEALTH HISTORY
Ms Gordon stated that her only prior exposure to the mental health system was marital counseling while married her second husband. They attended three sessions "to see if Eliot would stop f---ing around." Ms. Gordon stated, "It didn't work. He kept on, so I left him." Ms. Gordon could not remember the therapist's name or clinic, only that the therapist was in New York City so I cannot obtain any records. When asked why she wanted to see a therapist now, she replied, "I hope you can help me at least put things into perspective for me to cope better, be a viable parent for my child, and stop the nightmares."
Ms. Gordon has never been on psychotropic medications. When asked if she was open to taking them now to help her with her mood swings and sleeplessness, she was unsure if they would work. She denied ever having been hospitalized psychiatrically.
During the initial interview, she described a history of instability in relationships, an unstable self-image, impulsive behavior, chronic feelings of emptiness, and difficulty controlling her anger in certain situations.
MEDICAL HISTORY
Birth history is unknown as Ms. Gordon described herself as "a foundling." Apparently, Ms. Gordon was abandoned by her birth mother and taken in by her parents, whom loved her as "their child."
Developmentally, Ms. Gordon stated that she was "normal." When asked about illnesses or accidents, she stated she had been in quite a few accidents, but "nothing serious," and "I've never been sick. Except, of course, for colds and other things that people usually get." She has no regular primary care physician, so again, records cannot be obtained.
LEGAL HISTORY
There is no reported legal history.
ALCOHOL & DRUG HISTORY
Ms. Gordon admitted to needing alcohol more in the last three months "than I have in my entire, long life." She stated, "I used to drink socially, a whiskey/coke or a glass of wine. It's nothing I needed before, but now I'd like to stop, or at least cut down, but it's the only thing that calms me down enough so I stop thinking about how I f--ed everything up." When asked if she thought chemical dependency treatment would be in order, she stated, "It's not that big a problem now. I just don't want it to be a problem, and I'd like to find comfort in my daughter instead of a bottle of booze. I want my daughter back and to make things right with my husband." She denied using any illicit drugs, having any history of drug abuse problems, or having gone through chemical dependency treatment.
MENTAL STATUS EXAM
Ms. Gordon presented as a tall, slim, dark-haired female with green eyes who was neatly dressed and groomed. Her hair was clipped back with a barrette, and she wore daytime makeup. Speech was normal in rhythm, rate, and quality. Eye contact was good, though she turned away at certain points as if to think of the proper answer. She was alert and oriented times four. Thinking was logical and coherent, though a bit self-critical, but her chronology of events do not quite fit considering her age. She displayed a full range of affect with bouts of tearfulness while talking about the end of her marriage, the loss of custody of her daughter, and the trauma she experienced. She did seem to experience a panic situation in the office. She was quite closed off when asked about the trauma she had experienced, which set off the chain of events that ended with her husband leaving with their daughter. She was generally cooperative, although reluctant to discuss certain aspects of her history and experiences leading to this referral. Mood was dysphoric. Psychomotor behavior was within normal limits, save an almost constant shaking of her foot, which she attributed to nervousness. There was no evidence of delusions or hallucinations. Attention and concentration were adequate, and memory appeared jumbled. Insight and judgment were fair. Intelligence was judged to be average to high-average, though were not formally tested. She denied suicidal or homicidal ideation.
DIAGNOSTIC IMPRESSION
AXIS I 309.81 Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, acute
307.42 Insomnia
Rule out Anxiety Disorder, NOS
Rule out Major Depressive Disorder, single episode
Rule out Adjustment Disorder with Depressed mood with symptoms in the high-moderate range
AXIS II Diagnosis deferred
AXIS III Great health
AXIS IV Traumatic experience, separation from spouse and daughter, recent relocation, unemployment
AXIS V Current GAF: 58 GAF during the past year: 70-75
SUMMARY & RECOMMENDATIONS
Elizabeth Gordon is a 32 year old, separated mother with a history of unstable relationships and described symptoms of anxiety and depression. She appeared depressed and had noticed marked changes in her mood during the months after having experienced a traumatic event and being separated from her family. She experienced a panic attack in office.
Ms. Gordon would benefit from a course of therapy in order to help her discern fact from flashback, stabilize her mood, learn coping skills and relaxation techniques, bolster self-esteem in order to interact with people and find employment, come to terms with the current state of her marriage and decide if divorce is the inevitable course of action, and reunite with her daughter. Her symptoms of depression, feelings of worthlessness and incompetence, as well as bouts of anxiety, should be addressed as they could impact how she raises her daughter if she were to receive joint or sole custody of her in the future. It does appear as though Ms. Gordon has a history of significant difficulty functioning in relationships, including a pattern of short periods of abandonment by either herself or her current husband that must be addressed.
Ms. Gordon agreed to undergo therapy with the undersigned, and our first challenge will be strengthening trust in her care providers, as it appears that Ms. Gordon's pattern is to be "on guard" until she is comfortable with people. We will also evaluate her cognitive and behavioral traits through testing-if she is amenable-in order to get a clearer picture of her functioning and suggest remedies for enhancing her mood, minimizing her anxieties, reinforcing her self-esteem, and fortifying her bond with her daughter.
Ms. Gordon was also referred to Dr. Simon Bradford, psychiatrist at this clinic. Antidepressant and sleep-enabling
medications, as well as a mood stabilizing medication for times of stress, may be in order. Ms. Gordon was hesitant about
seeing an additional doctor. Since the undersigned cannot prescribe the medications she would find useful, time was spent
processing why attending the scheduled appointment with Dr. Bradford would be beneficial.
Dr. Julia Stone
Julia Stone, Ph.D.
Licensed Clinical Psychologist
~~~~~
Elizabeth had just gone down to the desk with her bags to get a keycard for her new suite when she heard her name called across the lobby. To her surprise, she spotted Guy, holding Katie Rose, and pulling Joey by the arm. It wasn't everyday her Watcher made his presence known, and as of late, she had assumed that maybe someone else was watching her.
In a good mood after she spent two hours with Claire and Methos in her studies, then packing up her things and getting ready to move into larger accommodations, and the promise of a matinee movie, Elizabeth smiled at the Barstows. "Hey, long time no see."
"No see is right," Guy said, then pointed his finger at Joey. "Don't you dare move."
"What's going on?"
"Have you seen Amy?"
"God, no. Not since Paris. Why?"
"I haven't seen her since we had dinner on Saturday. I've called the Watchers to see if she was reassigned or some such nonsense, and want to call the cops to file a missing person report, but you know I can't do that. I'm really worried."
He couldn't hide it well, and was talking so openly in front of the kids. Joey's mind seemed to be on the gift shop and Katie seemed to be sleeping, but just the same.
Elizabeth immediately felt awful that she hadn't kept things up with her friend, who now could be in serious trouble. She could have been mugged, shot, raped, left for dead somewhere. Or, being a Watcher, could have been plugged in the head. "What can I do to find her? You have any ideas?"
"Not a one. I was just thinking she was mad or needed a break, but she'd at least call. She wouldn't just leave. You haven't heard anything from her?"
"No. Come on upstairs. Let's talk about this. Maybe Daniel, Duncan, or Amanda have a clue."
Katie's head popped up from her father's shoulder and she smiled at Elizabeth. Elizabeth asked her, "Do you remember me?"
Katie nodded and sucked on her finger. She was so adorable, and looked just like her mother with a round face, big eyes, pert nose. The only difference was that Amy's hair was usually short while Katie had long hair that probably had never been cut in her life. Elizabeth held her hands out, and Katie slid easily into them. "Hey, Joe. How you doing?"
"I want to do something. I'm sick of sitting around the hotel."
Elizabeth was surprised by his voice. It had changed. She wondered why the kids had to just sit around the hotel, but he could be exaggerating. Wouldn't put it past a preteen. "Claire's upstairs, and I'm sure she'd love to see you. Come on."
As they moved to the bank of elevators, Guy asked, "You getting along with the family again?"
"Haven't you been watching?"
"Not in your room."
"It's going. Slowly but surely."
"Great. If you get back together, it would make our lives easier."
"No one told you that you had to have the jobs you have."
As they entered an elevator car, Guy sighed deeply. He looked like he was ready to start tearing something apart. He had to be out of his mind with worry, and she wondered why it took him so long to tell her about it. Since Amy was almost family, he might not have wanted to upset them.
"Have you talked to Joe?"
"Yeah. He's doing worse than I am. He's on his way here."
"My God, this is really serious."
"Hello!"
"I'm sorry, I just can't believe it. Where could she be?"
"Your guess is as good as mine."
Elizabeth didn't know what to do to make him feel better, she was starting to feel closed in again with the thought that her long-lost friend could be in major trouble. Her eyes flitted toward the bar, and she asked, "What to have a drink?"
Guy indicated his two year old in his arms. She right away said, "Okay. Bad idea. I see that now," but it was hard for her to turn away knowing that in a few minutes she could be sitting in a booth with a whiskey coke.
~~~~~
Lyle Giavini sat in his home office staring at the obituary for Nick Hartford that he had clipped from the Arizona Gazette last week. He had done all he had been asked to do under the orders of Al Cartwright, but with Tina Fallon doing the talking. He wondered why Cartwright wasn't doing the talking himself. It had actually been strange that he hadn't popped in to check on progress as he had earlier in the Crusade to rid the world of the 'pest' known as Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod and all his 'pig' immortal buddies and lovers.
While under the spell of the seemingly magnanimous Al Cartwright, who had slowly but surely over the past year bent a troop of Watchers to his way of thinking, Lyle had done things only because he was ordered. He hadn't taken the time to think about what he was doing and all that the Crusade entailed. At the end of it, a dozen (give or take) immortals and four fellow Watchers would be dead. It seemed like every day there was another name added to the list. It was getting totally out of hand.
It was his friend, Paul, from Arizona that he had pulled into the fold that had convinced him this was basic, cold-blooded murder. If you were to line up ten sewer rats and shot them all in the head for no reason, you'd have to explain to your maker. "These are people," Paul had simply stated. The fact that Paul had also seen Hartford's obituary was another reason why each and every conversation had turned into 'why.'
Why, indeed. Lyle had just hung up the phone after receiving another order from Tina Fallon. Cartwright was obviously still concerned about the encrypted email that had been hacked. Even though Lyle knew that Hartford had access to the email, and might have been able to decode it with enough time, Hartford was dead. If he had told anyone about what he had found, there wouldn't be much to go on. All signs pointed to the safety of the Crusade in Lyle's mind. But, Fallon insisted that he find out if anyone else had any sort of access to the email, or any others that had been sent since. He had assured her that he had destroyed all emails coming from and going to Cartwright's address at each five hour interval, as was ordered, but she needed him to go through the motions of making sure. He knew they didn't know much about computers, and told her he would to pacify her.
He looked at the obituary once more, and then started a search for anyone who had recently searched for the criteria that would be needed to find that email, if it still existed. It didn't take long for a Watcher's name to pop up as having tried to access the deleted email: Megan Willis.
Since Lyle had no idea who that was, he did a basic search of Watchers to find out that she was new, had an assignment to double watch James Payson, lived in Phoenix, where Nick Hartford was assigned. Tickles of fear started to affect his neck as he sat up straight in his chair to read more. There was a picture of her. Long, red hair; freckled, round face; and a nice smile. Lyle wondered if she was a friend, or maybe even lover, of Nick Hartford. She had to have at least known him. She might have been affected by his death. Hartford may have told her what he had found before he died. She may be trying to find out why he died.
Lyle didn't know if she was still doing Watcher work. Her assignment watching the Paysons had come to an end last week, and she hadn't been reassigned yet. She hadn't made any entries or put herself out of commission for one reason or another either. The thought that Willis could be working to find out what happened to Hartford could put her on a trail that would lead to the Crusade. That made him pause. He wondered if he cared. He'd have loved to find a comrade to try to stop the Crusade, but he was only one man. One man who had spent his life in front of a computer, not in the field, not in any kind of danger.
There was her cell phone number, clear as day. Before he could talk himself out of it, he took out his personal cell phone. He used it only for his own personal calls to family and friends, as well as customers of his sideline business in computer repair. The Watchers didn't need to know who he contacted for pleasure or business that wasn't their own, and knew that it wasn't traced like Watcher phones are. When the first ring was heard, he knew that he would have to make the call quick since her phone did have a trace on it. The Watchers had told them all in school that they were traced for a reason: to be able to find them if there was trouble. Lyle also knew that there was an added bonus: they could follow a rogue Watcher's progress as they used their phone by either making calls, or in some cases, by a GPS beacon.
~~~~~
Megan was sitting with Amy in the back of the van while Mike and Nick were in the front. Nick had decided that the inevitable had to happen: Mike had to know about Immortals and Watchers and their part in this mess of the email. Amy looked at her with total disappointment, which just about broke Megan's heart. It was Amy that they had suspected of being a turncoat, not her. Not Nick. It was plain that either Amy deserved an Academy Award, or she was innocent. She had no idea about the email, and all their tries to trap her had failed.
Megan was just going to untie Amy so they could talk and hope she wouldn't run and announce to all that Nick was still alive when her cell phone rang. She looked immediately to Nick, whose head spun around with the noise. He nodded that she had to answer it, and she did just after the third ring. "Willis."
"Meet at the Circle K on Saguaro Boulevard in Fountain Hills in one half hour. I'll call the pay phone."
"Who is this?"
"One half hour."
"I'm not in Phoenix."
After a pause, the call ended. She hung up and looked to Nick.
"Who was that?"
"No idea, but I'm supposed to answer a pay phone in Fountain Hills in a half hour. He hung up."
~~~~~
"Damn it," Lyle cursed as he started the process of finding out where Willis was. He should have assumed that she might be mobile. He clicked the GPS system on her frequency and waited for only a second before he found out she was in New York City. He didn't know where exactly, but he knew it was Harlem. He got on the internet and found a Stop and Go on the corner of 110th and 9th and called to find out the number to the pay phone. He sighed to calm himself, and plunged right into calling her back, hoping that the call to her phone from the same number wouldn't be flagged, and he made a note to get himself a new cell phone number just in case.
As he made the second call, he thought of the work involved in giving everyone his new number, after he got it, it would be a major pain in the rump.
Willis answered, "Willis, who is this, damn it."
"Answer the phone at 100th and 9th in one hour. I'll explain then."
After hanging up, grabbing some things he'd probably need for the trip to New York, and getting into his car, he took the battery out of his Watcher cell phone and then threw them both out the window at mile intervals. The Watchers couldn't trace him now, but also, he had no help from Watchers if he got into peril. He also couldn't get calls from Fallon, but she could still email or leave a message on his home machine. He wondered if going through this process of starting to distance himself from the Crusade would backfire, or how soon they would find out he was turning his back on them. He hoped that Willis and company could notify Duncan MacLeod, Joe Dawson, or any of the others on the list with enough power to warn the rest to go on a long vacation on the other side of the world until the bad guys could be weeded out.
When he was on the interstate heading south from Boston, he opened the window so he could breathe easier. "Yes, I'm doing the right thing. This is the right thing," he repeated as a mantra. It was a big step to leave the comfort of his cubicle and go up against a group with guns and a mission. Lyle crossed himself as he dialed Willis' number an hour after his last phone call, hoping that she had made it to the phone.
Continued