THE ELIZABETH SERIES
CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE

DAWSON'S HUNTERS

by JoLayne

RATING: PG

CHARACTERS: Methos, Duncan, Amanda, Joe, Warren, OC's Elizabeth, Claire, Nick, Guy, Liam, Thomas, Watcher Board

SUMMARY: Joe lays down his personal, as well as the Immortals', demands for the Watchers to clean house, meanwhile Duncan comes across someone from Elizabeth's past that could be the key to collecting the living Crusaders for punishment.

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 22, 2013: 3 AM
PARIS

Joe looked at Cassandra's immortal husband, Liam Helm, and his son-in-law, Guy Barstow, who were sitting on either side of him facing the Watcher Board that had been convened for the emergency meeting to discuss the problem of the Crusaders. Joe had come to the meeting prepared to threaten an all out Immortal-Watcher war if the wheels weren't rolling to clean house, but to his immense satisfaction, nothing of the kind was needed. The Board members, who came from every part of the world on a moment's notice, were a wide range of characters, and Joe had always been quite surprised they could get anything done during meetings; nevertheless he loved the new regime the Watchers had set in place.

Joe had left the Watchers in the early 2000's, and one of the reasons he did so was because his philosophy as a Watcher was very different from what they had become, and being friends with Duncan MacLeod and Methos meant more to him than toeing the line before power hungry ass holes. He should have known that those snakes were still running amok in the Watcher system, which was so vast. Anyone wanting to be covert in their nefarious plots could easily hide their actions, especially once the Watchers had gone totally electronic. Hell, they didn't even Chronicle in books anymore. They were so technologically advanced that as soon as Joe, Liam, and Guy had mentioned the names of those they knew were involved in the Crusaders, their Watcher bio pictures were displayed on the large screen at the head of the room, which the large, round conference table faced. The round conference table was also a new addition with the 'changing of the guard' that Collin Macalrathy, new CEO of the Watchers, had dreamt up. Much like King Arthur's round table, everyone on the board had equal say, each part of the world was as important as another.

The meeting had been long, the Board had required detailed documentation to back up Joe's claims, but he didn't mind. He'd want complete and utter disclosure of such assertions as well if he was in their shoes, the thought that Horton's Hunters under a new name had infiltrated the system once more was staggering news. Joe, Liam, and Guy had provided answers to every question lobbed at them. The Board had listened to Joe's description of what had happened in Shiloh, reviewed Guy's collected data on what he could surmise after digging in Watcher database while on the plane over from the states. Each time Joe looked at Al Cartwright's smug face on the screen, he wanted nothing more than put a bullet in his head. That man had kidnaped eighteen people, had killed two of them, and had almost killed his own precious daughter. He was the enemy, not the Watchers.

Joe was delighted that the Board was as appalled as he was with the news of what had happened in Shiloh, NJ, but was also hesitant. Memories of how he had almost been popped because Jack lost his son was still a tough piece of meat to swallow for Joe, so there was always a part of him that stepped cautiously with the Watchers. After being Methos' watcher all those years, and then being called on it, Joe could have been executed for his breaking of the rules, but the new regime had allowed his personal journal of Methos-in which Joe still hadn't related the entire truth-to be considered the official Methos Chronicle. Now that Methos was dead to the Watchers, it was all in the past.

There was a part of Joe that wondered if he'd still be in the trouble if the Watchers ever found out that Methos was in fact still alive and well and living as one of the victims of Shiloh. As far a the Watchers were concerned, Daniel Gordon was Duncan MacLeod's friend, a man who had turned less than ten years ago, and married Elizabeth Sommers, widow of the elusive, legendary Methos. Methos' Daniel Gordon picture, which had flashed on the screen in the course of naming of all the victims of Shiloh, was one that Amy had chosen of him standing in the distance with a scarf high around his neck, it was blurry enough. Still, Joe felt an instant of panic when his face had appeared on screen. The Watcher head from Kenya, Lucas Mondongo, asked if that was the only picture of the man, as you couldn't really see his face. Guy had told him, "My wife only took over his Chronicle a short time ago, and he turned just a few years ago. She was going to get better pictures of him for his Chronicle, but you know, we have kids, and all."

That answer caused Joe to cringe, but Liam had the presence of mind to switch the subject and click to the next victim, his wife, Cassandra. Her beauty had captured Lucas' attention, as well as most of the other men's, for which Joe was pleased. They side-stepped the issue of Daniel's bio picture and continued with their litany of crimes committed by rogue members of the organization.

After the announcement that the Crusaders were working within the Watcher ranks, when Liam's picture appeared on screen one Board member, the Australian Head, Cynthia Willow, asked what his position was with the Watchers. Liam said, somewhat proudly, that he wasn't a part of their organization in any way. When asked why he was kidnapped, he truthfully admitted, "I am a friend of Duncan MacLeod's as well. I am immortal."

There was a sudden hush in the room as all eyes turned to Liam Helm, who stared back at them with equal admonishment. Macalrathy stood up and challenged Joe with a fierceness he hadn't yet brought to the table, "You brought an immortal into our inner sanctum?"

"Yes," Joe said defiantly, with equal venom. "I brought two people, who were strapped to metal chairs with a blade at their neck, along with me. I thought if you wanted to ask him, an immortal, just what it felt like to be that close to losing his head, not as a result of a challenge and fair fight where we do not interfere, but because of an Oath-breaking, power-hungry coward and his grunts, you could. Al Cartwright and his gang brought the Watchers out in the open. There were immortals in that room who didn't even know who the hell we were," Joe lied for effect to show that he, Guy, and most certainly Amy and Duncan MacLeod, had never once told an immortal about the Watchers.

"Now that Liam knows," Joe continued, more calm and clear headed, "He has every right to be here to tell the story of how he, his wife, his friends, and complete strangers, were all brought together for the single purpose of offing us! You got a problem with that?" Joe knew his voice had again echoed through the chamber and hoped they knew just how potent this situation could be.

"Let me tell you here and now," Joe stated with a pointed finger jabbing the table before him. "If you don't tighten the noose around the guilty parties, there will be an all out war between Watchers and Immortals. Never forget that." He paused, to let that news sink in for them as each of the six heads exchanged nervous glances.

After a deep deliberation, Macalrathy slowly stood up to face them. "Mr. Dawson, Mr. Helm, Mr. Barstow. Thank you for bringing this to our attention. We are very sorry about what happened, and for the deaths of Ms. Cochrane and Ms. Payson. Of course, we will see swift justice levied on those who were involved."

"Well, excuse me if I'm not all together convinced," Joe said lightly, with a smile that he hoped conveyed that regardless of what he had to say, he still wanted friendship between Watchers and Immortals, but only if the Watchers did what was right. "I do hope you're telling me the truth. You'll be damned sorry if you're not. You may have thought Horton's Hunters and Cartwright's Crusaders were something, but you haven't seen anything until you've seen my boys who will fight along with me if you don't do what you have to do."

The meeting had started at midnight. By the time Joe and Liam walked out of Watcher Headquarters in Paris, leaving Guy behind to continue feeding the information that he and Nick had acquired to the Board, it was well past noon. The Board had come to appreciate Liam's presence-or so they said-when they asked him to leave. Because Joe felt Guy could handle things, he had put his trust in his son-in-law in this very dire situation, Joe offered to escort Liam out. As a parting word with the Board, Liam told them, "I'm not a part of your organization. I can't wait until I can forget I ever met any of you. Do your part and I will just walk away and none of this will be spoken of again."

Joe smiled since he had told Liam on the plane ride over that it would be a good thing to let them know that he had never known and never will tell anyone about Watchers and their purpose. Liam continued, "But if you don't, I will not hesitate to take up arms for my new friend here," and clapped his hand on Joe's shoulder. "And you should know that Joe, Guy, and other Watchers are going to be straight with me about what you do about this, I bid you all a good day and good luck. The last thing I want to do is consider you all enemies."

~~~~~

NEW YORK CITY

Claire woke up when her head rolled down off the stack of pillows she was sleeping on. Her tummy was rumbling, and she had to go to the bathroom. She noticed that it was daytime and was happy she had slept through the night without her arm hurting too much or her rolling over on the pins again. She realized she was somewhat stiff in the neck probable form sleeping in two positions all night long, on her back or her right side. When she threw her legs out from the bed to gather momentum to help herself out of it, she felt a bit dizzy so she called out for her mom and dad, but they didn't answer. They had to still be asleep and she didn't want to wake them. The happy thought that they were back together reinforced her wish not to disturb them.

Claire worked the kink out of her neck as much as could and waited for her head to clear before using the night stand to help herself out of bed. Walking to the bathroom unaided wasn't as bad as she feared, last night when her dad helped her, her arm hurt with every move she made. It still hurt, but not the kicking her in the stomach hurt like before.

As she walked out into the living room, she wondered if she was alone it was so quiet. The grandfather clock showed it was past 9 am. The room was a mess. There was one of those silver carts only the best hotels had in the middle of the room with plates and bowls of half-eaten food. As Claire edged closer to it, she saw it wasn't food like meal stuff, but what her dad called junk food. If she didn't see her dad's clothes on the sofa, Claire would have thought she was in the wrong room all together. She took a handful of popcorn and a Dorito. "Yuck," she choked and spit them out; they were stale. She noticed that the TV was on from the red light, but the screen was black. She turned it off instead of flipping the channels, because if her parents were still sleeping, she didn't want to wake them. They both looked so tired yesterday and she wanted everyone to feel better. Claire edged closer to the master bedroom door and held her breath as she listened. She could hear her dad's soft snore. Claire smiled. They were there together. She was so happy she could have jumped to the ceiling, higher than it, but she didn't want to make a sound. She dared to open the door to the bedroom and peek inside. To her absolute joy, she saw that her parents were sleeping together, with her Mom's arm on her dad's stomach.

After the chore of going to the bathroom and pulling her nightgown back down, she decided it was time to take care of her empty stomach. She looked at the room service menu and then called down for some pancakes, orange juice, bacon, and cereal. Not knowing what to do until she got food, Claire went into the bedroom and not wanting to lie down again she took her Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban book into the living room.

Just then, the doorbell rang. "Wow, they're fast!" Claire whispered excitedly and opened the door. Instead of a man with a cart of breakfast, a blond man in jeans and short winter coat was standing in the hallway. She was going to close the door, but he said with a smile, "Good morning, you must be Claire."

"Who are you?"

"A friend of your mom and dad. I'm Nick. May I come in?"

"No," Claire declared. "I don't know you."

"But, I know you. Or of you. Duncan and Amanda aren't in their suite, or they're not answering the door, so I came here. I don't have anywhere else to go. Come on, please?"

"No." Claire shut the door and waited until she heard him leave. She was told at a very young age not to let anyone in she didn't know. She chuckled. He might have tried giving her candy next. She was too smart for that. Her arm did hurt, but not as much as her stomach. She sat down on the couch and opened the book on her lap.

~~~~~

Duncan woke up and had too much energy to try to go back to sleep, and since Amanda was sleeping peacefully, he browsed through some Watcher database stuff that Nick had set up in the suite. He thought about waking Amanda for another go, but she looked worn out, so he left her to have more of that 'beauty sleep' she insisted she needed when they finally had enough of each other the night before and she closed her big eyes, a lasting smile stayed on her lips.

He didn't know what he was looking for and didn't think he was really getting anywhere clicking through links that took him to new pages and dead ends on the Watcher system. He didn't want to know everything on there, and had already read what his Watcher had chronicled on him the last week, which wasn't much. Again, he wondered if his Watcher had just stood around while he was taken, fortunately by the good guys instead of the bad. "No interference" didn't seem the correct policy when the immortal was in a situation they shouldn't be in and could be killed through no fault of their own. What was the use of having Watchers if they weren't also some sort of protector. But then again, before Duncan's blood started to boil, he remembered that the Crusaders were covert and not a part of the normal Watcher system. How could his watcher, someone named Peter Boyer, know what was happening if he wasn't privy to classified Crusader plans? He had looked at Peter Boyer's photo on the database and would look out for a red haired, green eyed, man who had a birthmark on his right cheek. Nothing else about him stood out, and Duncan decided he was very good. Duncan had never once spotted him. Duncan had never asked for watcher information from anyone after the Galati mess. Choosing not to know and not in any way wanting to be tagged as someone who had made the Watcher system vulnerable, accepting Joe's assertion that the Watchers were a different organization now was enough for him. He had decided to keep himself out of it. Now, though, he was in it again and those who called themselves Crusaders would most definitely pay.

On the screen, after Duncan had mindlessly clicked through links, was the picture of a brown haired woman with soft eyes and a polite smile, who looked about Claire's age. Reading her bio, Duncan saw that she was in fact almost thirty and had been a Watcher for eight years. Duncan couldn't help but wonder if she was immortal and hiding out in the Watcher system because she turned so young. He pushed the back button a few times to see why he had ended up on her bio page in the first place. She had been on the list of people who had received an email from Al Cartwright's private email address, which was specifically designated, they now surmised, to be for Crusader business. She lived in the Village, so why not pay her a visit?

~~~~~

Methos kicked out his leg in his sleep, which woke Elizabeth. It took her a minute to realize where she was and all that was around her. When she realized that she was holding a still sleeping Methos, she was suddenly wide awake, her head swimming with the memory of their night together. Her wedding band was still on her finger. Yes. It hadn't been a dream. She laid her head back down on Methos' shoulder and slowly put her leg over his; she couldn't stop smiling as she sang to herself, "He's back in my arms again... right by my side." Elizabeth giggled and sang again as she rubbed his arm, "I got him back in my arms again..."

To her amazement, Methos' voice softly, sleepily, sang, "So satisfied." He kissed her on the top of her head and grumbled, "Let's just forget about the rest of that song by Miss Ross. Hm?"

"Absolutely. I've had plenty of sleepless nights and your love does make me strong, but no one's told me to get rid of you. They all know you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Methos raised an eyebrow. "Even MacLeod?"

"Now, why do you want to start with that again so soon? I told you last night that-"

"I know," he stretched to make the words strain. "But I'm sure he had a few choice words about you wanting me back."

"Sure, because I was in pain. But I don't think he ever said just leave him and all that behind. He never once said that. Even if he had, I wouldn't listen to it."

"He told me he loves you."

"When?"

Elizabeth remembered the morning after on his barge when Duncan had declared his love for her, and she had returned the sentiment, but she knew now, and probably had known even then, that it was just the afterglow talking. They had a wonderful evening, but they were better as friends, especially when they both loved other people more. She looked at Methos' glance as he rolled on top of her, and noticed the hint of a smile.

"You caught me."

"Are you going to be testing me from now on? You don't think I'm telling you the truth when I say I want nothing more than my man and my daughter back in my life and love you more than you probably deserve?" She slapped his buttock and murmured, "Creep..." but couldn't help laughing along with Methos, who seemed very much past his jealousy act and was kissing her neck and moving his hands to interesting areas of her body.

"He's very handsome, you know," he said in a mocking tone as he slid her legs apart.

"Oh? I hadn't noticed," Elizabeth purred as her mind was suddenly and definitely elsewhere than on Duncan MacLeod's looks.

"Bloody hell," Methos declared as he snapped out of bed and started to pull on his pants.

Elizabeth, a bit stunned, sat up and said, "All right, Duncan's down-right gorgeous. What's the matter?"

"I can't believe it's almost 10:30 already! Why did you let me sleep so late?"

"I let you?" She giggled, then stifled a yawn. "I took an Ambien after you fell asleep, what's your excuse?

"My lady, there is only one excuse: you wore me out." Methos smiled as he zipped his dress pants from the previous evening and knelt down to kiss her. Elizabeth wanted the kiss to go on forever and pull him back into bed, but he brought her back into reality quickly when he said, "I'm going to check on the little one."

With a few strides, he was gone. Elizabeth felt like the worst mother on earth for forgetting for a glorious moment that she had a daughter with a broken arm who probably still had quite the headache in the other room. She sulked to the bathroom to allow Methos to take over the responsibility that should be second nature to her and took her morning doses of medications just before turning on the shower.

~~~~~

Methos hadn't expected Claire to be up, let alone polishing off what looked to be a large breakfast. She was sitting on the couch with a book on her lap as she ate the last bit of a piece of bacon. "You didn't even turn on the TV? You usually do that before anything in the morning," he told her with a smile of pride as he sprawled next to her on her good side. "Morning, Little One."

Claire smiled at him and then asked, "Are you happy, Dad?"

He knew exactly what she meant and could see the joy on her face. She knew which bedroom he had just exited and he wanted her to know that her grand hope had come true. They were a family again in every sense of the word. "I really am. How about you?"

"My arm hurts, but I'm doing pretty good. Are we really going to live in a house, in one place, where you both work, and I go to school, and I have friends like everyone else?"

Methos also didn't expect to be cross-examined about the future before he even had a cup of coffee. Lately she was like a broken record. Yes, settling down was on the agenda, but Claire would have to be patient because they had to get it right. Methos wanted to make sure all three of them would be happy where they settled. He didn't want to just buy a property and have them plunk themselves down. Also, the vagabond existence was the one he liked best. If you grew too many roots, it was harder to leave, even when you absolutely had to. Looking at Claire's solemn, yet pleading face, he teased, "That sounds rather boring, doesn't it?"

"It's what I want, but as long as you and mom aren't mad at each other, I'll go where you do."

"That's the spirit," Methos beamed. "Let's keep all our options open. What do you want to go to school for? Besides, I'm the best teacher you'll ever have."

"And Mom. She was a teacher. She wants to teach again, and she probably didn't mean just me."

"Until your butt is in a school, she will be one of your teachers." He remembered that one day his little girl was going to turn and really need a teacher of life and survival. That had always been shoved to the back of his mind, but now after her 'accident,' he had to think the matter over thoroughly. Maybe they should start teaching her self-defense, fencing, street smarts. He'd have to have a talk with Elizabeth and soon about that. He turned to Claire and smiled. "Speaking of which..."

"I know. I have to be schooled, by you," she groused.

"Hey," he said affronted.

"Can we just wait a bit? I little bit? Please? Pretty please? I'm sick."

She was playing the sick card again, but this time, she was probably not crying wolf. "You have until Monday."

"Woo Hoo! Thanks dad." The book dropped to the floor when she put her good arm around his neck and hugged him. "What are we going to do this weekend?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I saw the paper," she said as her head motioned to it on the table. "There's a special exhibit of French romanticism at the museum. Can we see it?"

"You said you didn't like your art classes with Jacques."

"I didn't, really, but I still like art. I want to see the mummies too. Can we go?"

"Might be interesting." Methos strolled over to the paper that Claire had more than likely folded so it was seen right off and looked at the ad. The heading of the Metropolitan Museum of Art's ad stated, "5,000 years of art." Methos chuckled. Would be interesting to see my life span in one building. He scanned the ad, then said, "Oh, its' only on through Sunday. Sorry, kiddo, we can't."

"Why not?"

"You can't go anywhere with your arm like that."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" He mimicked her as he tossed the paper and sat down next to her again. He held his finger just over one of the three tack headed pins sticking out of her arm. "Do you really feel like going to the museum?"

As usual, Claire just shrugged. Methos grabbed the room service menu and said, "We'll see. Maybe tomorrow."

"Can we play games today, then? Like the old days?"

"We don't have any games here. I'll have to buy some." His eyes drifted to the window and saw that it was a dreary day, most definitely one to stay inside on. "Yeah," he said off-handedly. "We can do that."

~~~~~

Nick was almost to the point of shooting someone; he'd never been so bored, he rubbed his sore arm. There was work to do and he had to wait around with no where to be until the Sleeping Beauties woke up or got back to the hotel. He was sitting in the lobby, after having read the paper twice. He took out his wallet for his phone card to call Arizona again and hoped that Megan would answer this time. He couldn't have been more worried about her, but he couldn't do anything. He didn't even know if she and James Payson had made it back to Phoenix again. Nick had been able to get a hold of Leon, their fellow Watcher in Phoenix, last night and was told that James' Payson's newly turned immortal sister-in-law, Jan Pierpont, had been well taken care of. He was just waiting for word from him or Megan about what immortal to give her to. "It's not like she's merchandise," Nick had hollered, reacting roughly to Leon's choice of words.

Nick had just reached the bank of pay phones to call Megan again when he spotted two men walk in who were not at all strangers. Thomas Davidson and Warren Cochrane looked like they'd been through the ringer as they crept into the lobby of the St. Regis from the parking garage. As Nick walked to them, they didn't notice him, and Nick could hear Warren say as they walked to the check in desk, "You're such a bone head. I still cannot believe you did that."

Thomas dramatically lifted his arms and said, "Well, shoot me. It was a gut reaction to a turncoat! He deserved it, and I'm not apologizing. Will you, for the 859^th time, just shut up about it?"

"You two sound like an old married couple," Nick joked as he walked up to them.

Warren whirled around and looked at him surprised. He soon recovered, "Hey. Good to see a friendly face. I've been looking at his the last couple of days. What's new?"

"A couple of couples have gotten back together, and I can't get to the equipment. Say, does Claire Gordon know either of you?"

"Who?" Thomas asked.

"Liz and Dan's kid. She wouldn't let me into their suite."

"Liz and Dan are back together?" Thomas asked. "I thought she was with Duncan MacLeod."

"No, she's married to Daniel," Warren said, but the way he said it made Nick think that he knew a lot about the lives of the immortals who had Watcher equipment behind locked doors, and he could get him in. "She was on her way to Paris to see him, hoping they'd get back together. So, they got back together?"

"I guess."

"At least someone's happy," Warren grumbled.

Thomas asked, "Couples? You said couples got back together? Amanda and..."

"Duncan, yeah," Nick replied, from the look on Thomas' face, it looked like there was a lot of history he knew about, too. Nick felt bad for Warren, who suddenly looked like a lost puppy and was more than likely thinking about his wife's beheading. "If you guys know this kid, I can get back to work collecting more information to send to Guy Barstow in Paris. They're at, or had, that Board meeting. You guys hear what happened during it?"

"No, what?" Warren whirled around again and asked excitedly.

"I don't know. I've been at the Y and stuck here for the last hour or so. Let's go upstairs and find out. They might know, if they're home. I don't even know that. Good thing you showed up. I was ready to start kicking in some doors here."

"Claire wouldn't let you in?" Warren asked in a mocking tone. "Well, she is a little girl, you know. She was raised right."

"I hate that."

Thomas asked as they all strode to the elevator, "Little girls or girls who have power over you?"

"When they follow rules, it can really make your life miserable," Nick replied as he punched the up button.

~~~~~

Amanda was more than a bit worried. When she woke that morning, the last thing she expected was a missing Duncan. Why he would leave her after the night they had, Amanda couldn't understand at all. Not that she thought he 'left' her, it was more like missing out on a morning delight. Striding down the hall toward Elizabeth's suite she could feel immortals, and she hoped Duncan was there. Still in her robe, because when she finally tracked Duncan down, she didn't want too many clothes between them, Amanda rapped on the door of the suite and waited. Amanda had confidence in not only herself but Duncan's rekindled love her for, but she couldn't stop that needling tweak in the back of her mind that the first place Duncan went was to Elizabeth's door.

Elizabeth opened the door, still in her robe with a towel wrapped around her hair. Amanda only hoped she was so under dressed because she had climbed out of Methos' bed, not Duncan's. The smile on Elizabeth's face was tired when she said, "Good morning. Come on in."

"Is Mac here?" Amanda asked as she sauntered inside and was relieved to see Methos on the phone sitting on the couch.

He had to be on hold, because Methos drawled, "Did you have a fight?"

"No, we did not have a fight," Amanda snapped. "He was with me last night, right where he belongs.

Elizabeth and Methos exchanged a look that Amanda couldn't gauge, then Elizabeth pointed to Claire's bedroom. "I was just helping Claire get dressed. I'll be right back. Help yourself to some coffee."

"Damn it," Methos muttered as he looked at his cell phone and then shut it off. "Joe called, but his cell must have died."

Amanda had poured a cup of coffee and took a seat diagonally from him on the sectional. When she saw her robe slip open, she crossed her legs and covered them. "How did the meeting go?"

"The call was short, but at least Joe's still alive. That's something. That's amazing, in fact."

"Well, Joe is confident that the Watchers are a different sort of organization. Maybe he's right and we should believe him."

"Different, yeah," Methos rubbed his face and stretched back. "Still housing murderers, but different. Of course."

Three seconds before the doorbell rang, Amanda tightened at another immortal's approach. She hopped to her feet and almost ran to the door, fully expecting her husband. He had to have come here because she was gone from their suite, and maybe he even had a present for her, she thought with joy. To her immense disappointment, Warren stalked in with Nick and Thomas following. Amanda hid her disappointment and smiled at them, just before casing out the hall to see if Duncan was with them, then put her arms around Thomas in greeting. "How are you honey?"

"I'm peachy," he grumbled, obviously having gotten up on the wrong side of the bed. From the look of him, he hadn't been in a bed for a while. He planted a light kiss on her cheek then stalked straight to the couch and threw himself on it. Methos' eyes drifted to him and huffed when the sectional was jarred.

"He's insane," Warren rebuffed.

"So what else is new?" Amanda chuckled as sat alongside Thomas and platonically patted his knee. When Thomas grabbed her poured coffee, she slapped his hand. "That's mine, thank you very much."

"I did what I had to do. Nothing more, nothing less," Thomas countered.

"What did you do?" Amanda inquired.

Methos' eyes drift to the door of the room Claire and Elizabeth were in. "Only if you say it briefly and quietly."

Warren sat on the other side of the sectional and grumbled, "He killed a witness, probably the best witness we'd have had."

"He deserved it," Thomas muttered as he looked at his hands.

"Well," Amanda sighed. "That does happen. Mac and I, and Nick, found one of them, and his lover shot him right in front of us."

"You know what? This conversation would be better held elsewhere." Methos stood up and clapped his hands. "Get out. Come on, get out."

"What's with you?" Thomas looked up at him.

"My daughter is in the other room, and I would prefer it if this didn't reach her ears."

"Pre-immortal, it seems," Thomas grinned. "I didn't know Liz's kid was one of us. This gets more interesting all the time. In fact, I can't see Liz as a mother, but she must have a nice bedside manner."

Amanda knew that Thomas sometimes spoke before he thought, mostly when he wanted to needle people, but Thomas had never had a run in with Methos before. Amanda sat back so as not to get caught in the fray when Methos grabbed Thomas' lapels and shoved him to the door. Just then, Elizabeth walked out of the bedroom and immediately tightened her robe at her chest and gawked at the people in the room.

Elizabeth smiled at Thomas, seemingly a bit behind in the context of the events leading up to Thomas' slam against the door. "Chill out!" he barked at Methos.

Methos whispered harshly to Elizabeth, "What's Claire doing?"

"I convinced her to take a little nap and gave her a pain pill because her arm hurts again. I stayed with her until she fell asleep, sure didn't take long."

Amanda realized Methos was in his protective mode and it would be best if they all just left as soon as possible. He sneered at Thomas, "Shut... up..." Then he leaned close to Thomas and whispered so it was hard to hear him, but Amanda could imagine he was saying, "If I have to draw you pictures so you understand, this is not what Claire should hear. She's sick, she's more important than you or anything you've done today, yesterday, or the year before that. Leave... now..."

Amanda beamed to all, not wanting to make matters worse, and offered her suite for their little powwow. Since it looked like she wasn't going to get more intimate time with her husband, she might as well go get dressed and find out what happened and figure out what the next step was. "To my suite," she announced. "I'll order more coffee."

"And something eat?" Warren asked as he stood and yawned. "I'm starving."

"Sure." Amanda said brightly, watching Methos walk away from Thomas while Elizabeth stood staring at them all.

Thomas and Elizabeth smiled at each other, then she put her hand on his shoulder. "Nice to see you again, Tom."

He was a glutton for punishment, it was awfully chancy to hug Elizabeth in front of Methos, who looked like a rabid dog, but Thomas did excel at playing with people and probably did it to get Methos' goat for some reason. Why Methos had taken so badly to Thomas, one of Amanda's best friends in the immortal world, she couldn't understand. One could never understand men, no matter how hard one tried. Thomas' hug had jostled the towel on Elizabeth's head, and it slipped down, so she took it off and tossed it on the couch.

"How are you all?" She asked the room, keeping the smile on her face for Thomas.

"Been better," Warren commented, almost off-handedly, but Amanda knew that he must be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. If Duncan had been beheaded right in front of her, she certainly wouldn't be acting as 'normal' as Warren seemed to be.

Amanda was going to try and say something comforting to Warren about Brynn, but then didn't have to. The approach of an immortal had made the room tighten, save Nick, and they all looked to the door. Methos went to peer out the peephole just as the doorbell rang. "Bloody Grand Central Station this morning," he groused as he opened the door.

Duncan walked in, to Amanda's delight, and he looked especially yummy that morning, dressed in tight, black pants, silk shirt, and black leather jacket. He had even left his hair loose that morning; she loved his black waves. Who he had with him made her pause. He held a blond woman about thirty years old by the arm and swung her into the room. What was he doing leaving her bed to pick up other women?

"Meet another member," Duncan announced to all, and nodded to each one in greeting as he saw them.

"Crusader?" Warren inquired as he followed Duncan sitting the woman down on the end of the sectional.

"Doesn't look like she belongs in Mensa," Thomas commented as he too stalked to her and stared.

Amanda wanted to tear her apart limb from limb. The woman didn't look at all at home as she attempted to focus on anything in the room besides all the killing looks pointed at her in silence. Even Methos, so concerned about Claire overhearing anything, stood with his arms folded in front of him staring her down.

"Denise Foley," Duncan said, "Now that you're surrounded by interested people, tell us why you joined and who else is in your little clan."

"Go to hell," she spat and turned her head away.

Duncan grabbed her chin and made her look at him. "Nah, it will be too full by the time we're done with you... people," he snarled. "Although how you can consider yourself a member of the human race is beyond me."

"You bastards started it."

"Oh?" Thomas snipped. "Let's see, how many of us have kidnaped Watchers and strapped them to chairs with blades at their necks?" He looked around cockily as no one even moved, all staring at the blond. "Oh, yeah," he chuckled. "That was only you," he spat, looking as if he was going to hit her. Denise instinctively flinched back.

Warren asked evenly, "How do you know she's involved?" not revealing what had to be pent up rage in check until he was sure she was one of them. Amanda could tell he was about ready to bust loose from his careful demeanor and probably knock her across the room. This Denise Foley was lucky she was a woman. If she were a man, Amanda was sure Warren would have already called an ambulance for her knowing the pounding she was going to take. She could tell he was just itching to punch something, and who could blame him. Amanda was sure no one would hold him back if he decided there was no difference between the sexes.

Duncan cast him a look. "Found her on the database."

When Denise heard that, she stiffened. "Sneaky little rat bastards. How did you get into our database? You're not supposed to know about us."

"And you're supposed to watch and record, nothing more." Duncan's face was bright red and also looked filled with hatred when he regarded her.

"My point exactly."

"Care to explain that?" Amanda asked.

"I can't speak for my friends, but I had a damn good reason to be a Crusader, and I'm proud of it. If I die, I die a martyr, and I do it willingly."

To Amanda's surprise, Methos stepped forward and said, "Well then, let's not keep hell waiting any longer, if you believe in that sort of place."

Before Methos, a man who had said on many occasions that there was no difference between men and women when it came to their deeds, could take hold of her, Duncan stepped between them. Warren did as well saying, "No, this one is going to talk first," and cast a steely glance at Thomas.

"You look familiar," Elizabeth commented. She had been hanging back in the room, but stepped forward as she scrutinized Denise Foley.

"I should, you bitch," she exclaimed.

Without missing a beat, Methos backhanded Denise across the face. She fell to the floor, and Duncan immediately helped her back to the sofa, and roughly set her down as Warren and Thomas hooked their arms around Methos to stop him from going after her further.

"All right, all right," Nick said. "Enough of this Nazi interrogation routine. Let me handle her."

"I'd like to know where I know you from," Elizabeth said with a bee in her bonnet. Methos yanked his arms free and put them around Elizabeth from the back as if in a moment he could move Elizabeth out of the way and destroy Denise Foley if the situation dictated it.

"I've always been told I look just like my brother, who you killed."

"I did no such thing," she said right away, but then a look of horror came across Elizabeth's face and she suddenly knew that if Methos wasn't there, she would have fallen to the floor. Remembering how she mowed down a bunch of Crusaders in Shiloh overwhelmed her. She recovered enough to state, "Well, if I did, he shouldn't have been there."

"Where? Just following you? You don't like having a Watcher? My brother was just doing his job and had grand notions that recording you lot was an important job."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Thomas asked.

"Your sainted brother had more than that in mind if he was in Shiloh," Elizabeth challenged.

"Shiloh? He was in New York. He was my only family, and you had him killed!" Denise actually spat and started to rise from the sofa. Duncan made that impossible for her. "You all deserve to die."

"Who was your brother?" Methos asked, trying to put it all together.

"Darrell. He was a good, no, great, man." Tears welled in Denise's eyes.

"Darrell Foley?" Elizabeth repeated his name over and over as her gaze seemed to drift to the past. Then she must have realized where she knew the name. "That was a dozen years ago, or more!"

"It's like it was yesterday."

"I didn't kill him, Logan did."

"Because of you."

"No way, chick. I'm not taking on that guilt," Elizabeth said as if in warning. Amanda had no idea what she was talking about, and by the looks of it, no one else did either besides Denise. "Logan was after me, too. I had nothing to do with it. I'm sorry for his death, but I had nothing to do with it."

As if Methos had just made the connection, he asked in fury, "How dare you? Have you even read her Chronicle before your grief blinded you to reality?"

"Watch and record, that's all Darrell did, for you," Denise said as if she had just munched on a tart apple. "My brother was worth fifty of you."

Duncan held Methos back from charging Denise again and then said, "Darrell Foley, the Watcher!" as it had just come to him. Amanda wished someone would explain to her. She didn't like that Duncan knew more about it than she did.

"Yes, you dolt!" Denise screamed, getting half out of her seat, but then sitting back down again when all the men in the room leaned forward to help her back down if necessary. "Did you know what happened to him? Did you even care?"

Methos took a deep breath as he stared at her, his face somewhat softened. "We heard. It wasn't right, it was painful, but most importantly, it wasn't us. It was an immortal who had no more scruples than you, missy."

Then Amanda remembered. Darrell Foley was Elizabeth's watcher when they had first met her. He was a blond man who dressed in all denim the two times Amanda had seen him, one of the times was when Elizabeth had accosted him on the street for following her, not knowing the truth about Watchers until just before that. She'd been acting more than paranoid because Logan was after her. Darrell Foley had been cut into little pieces and dumped into the East River by Logan's men, and from what Amanda had heard, all because he wouldn't give Logan any information he had gathered on his assignment.

Duncan said, "Foley was killed by a madman!"

"Just like you!"

"Not... Like... Us!"

"Quiet down." Methos suddenly held up his hand and motioned to Elizabeth. As if there was a silent communication between them, Elizabeth went to Claire's door, but looked back at Denise. She was more than likely going to check up on Claire to see if any of this was reaching her ears.

Before she left, though, Elizabeth looked solemnly at Denise and said, "I truly am sorry for your brother, but I had nothing to do with it. None of us did. The one responsible is dead and has been for a long time." Logan was dead because Elizabeth took his head that night in Sintra when Amanda had actually called Methos by his real name. She hadn't made that mistake again, but Methos really should have told Elizabeth earlier. To keep something like that from your lover, well, it was nonsense. Nope. Amanda didn't think she'd understand men's motives, ever. With a look of sadness at Methos, Elizabeth slipped into Claire's bedroom and shut the door behind her.

"Take this somewhere else," Methos said to Duncan, and then looked at Denise, "You will either help us or die, but not here."

Duncan nodded, not tearing his eyes from Denise. "You're right. I only came here because Amanda wasn't in the suite. Let's go."

"Yes, go far away," Methos urged as he started to the door and held it open.

No one said a word as they filed out the door. Amanda tried to smile at Methos, but he wasn't in the mood for friendship, only their absence. "Tell Liz I'll be back for lunch later. We can pick up Amy."

"There's no lunch today. She'll call you."

Amanda didn't like his tone and knew he was thinking of taking off. Well, that was for him to decide, along with Elizabeth and Claire. Whatever they decided or wherever they went, she would be behind the decision. It might be better to take Claire away from all this. Amanda was somewhat scared herself about how far this Crusader organization spread and what she might have done, or not done, to make other Watchers want to join up with them. She followed Warren out the door. As soon as she was in the hallway, Methos had shut the door.

~~~~~

Elizabeth was brushing her hair on the window bench beside Claire's bed as Claire was thankfully asleep when Methos crept into the room after getting rid of everything he really didn't want any part of. Yes, he wanted the Crusaders to pay, he wanted his friends safe, but his focus at that moment was not only his head but Elizabeth's and Claire's as well. He looked Claire over to see if she was in any condition to take off for the four winds, knowing that Elizabeth would pack on a moment's notice if he mentioned it. He sat behind her and took the brush from her and continued what she had started. Her hair was silky, in much better condition than it had been after they left Shiloh.

"What did you give her? A tranquilizer?" Methos asked as he finished with Elizabeth's hair and looked to Claire, who really hadn't stirred a bit since he had walked in.

"Yeah, a whole bottle of Sominex," Elizabeth teased, then when catching his eyes, she added, "No, the pain killer that Freelow prescribed," as if he had actually believed her.

Methos pulled Elizabeth to him and they sat together watching Claire on her side facing them, with her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open. It was so peaceful, so different than things had been for a very long time. For Claire to have slept through the shouting in the other room, suddenly Methos was a bit worried. He leaned forward to move her arm. To his relief, Claire moved a bit, nestling her head further into the pillow. "How was she when you gave it to her?"

"Her arm was a bit sore after putting her shirt on. That's her only one with puffy sleeves, so I might have to go shopping to get her more. It's too cold to go sleeveless. I asked if she wanted it, the pill, and she said yes. Not like last night when I asked if she needed anything to help her sleep."

"You were going to give her a sleeping pill?"

"No. Didn't the sheet with her medicine say that it caused drowsiness? I meant that. I'm not a pill-popper, and certainly wouldn't do that to her," she said accusingly.

"I know, I just..." Methos sighed and pulled Elizabeth back to his chest. "I hate things being out of my control."

"Me too. But this is nice," she whispered as she snuggled into him with a smile.

"I think it's time to leave."

Elizabeth popped her head up and stared at him. "To... where?"

"I was thinking the other side of town. Her doctor is here in case anything happens, and yours too. We can't leave the city for a while, but we can leave the hotel to put some distance between us and what they're up to." He wanted Duncan and all to take care of things, but certainly didn't want himself or his family caught in the fray.

"Okay. Sounds great," Elizabeth said, making a move to get up. "I'll start packing."

Methos pulled her back where she was; he was so comfortable. "It can wait a little while." He laid his head against hers and held her hand as he watched Claire sleep. Of all the things that could have happened to Claire, he was thankful that she only had those pins and that break to deal with. She hadn't once complained of a headache, which only meant that it wasn't an issue or her arm hurt more. He knew Claire had pluck, but he was never as proud of her as he'd been the past couple of weeks. It was she that prodded him into coming to New York for Elizabeth's birthday. All the while, Methos had groused and grumbled, but now he realized he had wanted to come as well. It was so fantastic that Elizabeth had raised her sword against him that he probably had to get to the bottom of it. Because she had hurt him so much, at the time it happened he hadn't let her speak, or do anything more to him to make it worse and make him truly forget how much he loved her. Now, sitting there, he was filled with memories of their life together and the prospect of what was to come. Methos had always loved the feeling of a bright future, and had only experienced it fifteen times in his life. The feeling that anything was possible and more joy might be just around the corner certainly made life more interesting. Considering how despondent he had been since November, he relished the change in his outlook and the bond of his family.

Claire opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times before focusing in on her parents just sitting there watching her. "What's up?" she asked groggily.

"Just taking in your beauty," Elizabeth replied.

Claire rolled her eyes and yawned. "What do you want?" she asked, probably hoping this time to get a straight answer.

Methos decided to provide it for her. "How do you feel about an adventure?"

Claire's eyes widened, seemingly suddenly wide awake. "Like what?"

"Moving."

She sat up and asked, "You found a house? Where?"

"No, another hotel. In the city. Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know," Claire answered, somewhat let down.

"How about where Amy is?" Elizabeth asked Methos, who immediately shot down that idea.

He whispered, "Guy's profession," to Elizabeth as Claire tossed her legs over the side of the bed.

Elizabeth nodded in understanding and stood up to help Claire get to her feet. "Where are you going?"

"To the bathroom? Not a great adventure, but when you gotta go, you gotta go."

"Do you need help?" Elizabeth asked, still holding Claire's good arm, even though Claire was standing up next to her on her own.

"Mo-om," Claire grunted, and Elizabeth let go of her arm. Claire walked to the bathroom as she called, "How about somewhere near the park?"

Elizabeth stayed where she was standing, but she watched Claire as she walked. "Which park?"

"Which other one is there?" Claire asked.

"There's Central, George Washington, Lincoln, Battery-."

"Mo-om..." Claire moaned as she went into the bathroom and shut the door.

"Mo-om," Methos echoed as he chuckled and hugged her.

"God, I love that word spoken in reference to me," Elizabeth said holding Methos for all she was worth, which made Methos happy. "But, not the tone. I'm going to let her slide for a while, but no more whining mo-om to me. I thought I got rid of that habit of hers."

"You have time to do it again, my love."

Elizabeth smiled and kissed Methos affectionately. "God, I love the sound of that, too."

~~~~~

From Amanda's viewpoint, Duncan MacLeod was utterly amazing. If anyone begged to differ, she would draw her sword. From the moment they had arrived in her suite with Denise, Thomas, Warren, and Nick in tow, Duncan took control of the situation and did it magnificently. Warren, Thomas, and Nick took places around the living room while Duncan and Denise were seated at the table. Even though Warren would probably have preferred to string her up from the nearest tree, Duncan said they were just going to have a little talk. He let Denise know there was no way she was leaving, but they weren't going to hurt her. Thomas had interjected, "Not like your friends did his wife!" but Duncan calmed him down. Thomas finally sat quietly on the sofa listening to them.

When Amanda came back to the room after taking a shower, changing, and putting on makeup, anything to prolong having to listen to whatever stupid excuses Denise had for being a Crusader. She was also not really looking forward to witnessing a death, even a no good piece of trash like Denise, so Amanda had taken as much time as she could in the bathroom. After hurriedly packing all of her and Duncan's possessions in case they had to make tracks quick, there was no more stalling. She went out to see how things had progressed.

Denise was no longer struggling or looking for the nearest exit. Duncan wasn't wound up tight. Warren was sitting silently in the far corner chair looking at his boots with one foot crossed over the other, and Thomas seemed to be sleeping with his head back on the back of the couch. Amanda was stunned by the silence, and took a seat at the table to take Duncan's hand. Denise seemed to blanch at that. "What really is your problem?" Amanda asked in a not so polite tone. She didn't understand people loving each other? Maybe there wasn't any hope for her after all. Duncan should just garret her now and get it over with. "Has she answered any questions yet?"

"I was just getting to that," Duncan said.

Denise interjected, "I'm not saying another word. Kill me if you want, I know you want to, but I'm not talking."

"I don't know how you can think we're garbage." Duncan stood up and paced around the table. When Denise shifted her eyes to him, he said, "Yes, I haven't gotten over that phrase yet. I could be indignant and just toss you out the window, which seemed like a great idea a while ago, or I can try and figure out just how warped you have to be to think you're better than us."

He was now standing directly behind her, and Amanda could tell that Denise was trying to figure out his next move, nervously looking to her left and right for what might come at her. She about jumped through the roof when Duncan placed his hands on her shoulder. Amanda could tell that Duncan was pressing down hard to ensure she remained seated.

"Daniel had a valid point." Duncan spoke without moving from his spot. Denise's eyes closed finally, probably to avoid giving anything away. The darting motion of her eyes gave up the fact that she was scared. "You carried this hatred for Liz, and us, all these years, but have you ever read any of our Chronicles? Do you even know us besides the twisted fantasy you've made up in her head?"

When Denise didn't answer, Duncan pulled the right side of her chair back, causing Denise to grip the table. He sat in the chair to her right and leaned forward to look into her eyes. "Do you even know who Liz is? Me? Her?" he motioned to Amanda. "Them? Any immortal? Who we truly are? What we've done, who we've loved," he continued forcefully.

Denise grimaced at the word love, and Amanda wondered if she had ever loved before in her life, except for her murdered brother. It was so sad. To be mortal, have so few years, and waste the better part of them on revenge and hatred.

"Do you know what it's like to be immortal?"

"Why would I want to?"

"Ah," Duncan's eyebrows lifted, having gotten something out of her. "Well, let me educate you. I've been around for over 400 years. I've done things I'm not proud of, and you know what? I still carrying those deeds with me. I have no grace period to forget. Every twenty years or so, I have to completely change my life so no one figures out I haven't aged. If I fall in love with a place or a person, I know going in I have to leave it. If the person I fell in love with was mortal, I have to accept at the beginning that I'm going to see her die. I'm going to hurt. I'm going to hate it. But you know what? I go into it because I love her. I settle in a place because I love it, even though I know I will one day have to leave it. Mortals have a life span that dictates... what?... fifty years in one place when you've finally found it? When they're lucky enough to find their place, where they're happiest they know they'll not leave it until they're carried out feet first. Immortals, we may have to leave in a second's notice because of an accident, the death of a loved one and the place no longer holds meaning, or because we're a participant in the Game. Yeah, I may have lived 400 years so far, but I could lose it tomorrow to a man with a sword who was better than me at that moment in time, all the while, carrying everything I've done, good and bad, with me. Now, think of that, and then realize what you did. You were going to take us out for no reason, with no mercy, with no trial by jury."

"Kind of like Darrell."

Amanda was getting sick and tired of hearing about him. Yes, it was awful he was killed in that way, killed at all, but come on, woman! She wanted to scream. Duncan continued in his soft voice, "Now, let me tell you about Brynn Thayer Cochrane."

Amanda saw Warren's eyes leave his boots for the first time and stare at them at the table. Duncan continued, "She was a beautiful woman, inside and out. She loved that man," pointing to Warren behind him, "more than she ever loved anyone or anything in this world, after 700 years wandering, finding a place for herself, finding her soul mate. She was a-"

"Common thief," Denise spat.

"There was nothing common about her," Amanda retorted.

"So, you did read up on us," Duncan continued in a hard voice, stopping Amanda's torrent of thoughts with his raised fingers. "Brynn had been many things, but first and foremost, she wasn't a murderer. She wasn't garbage. She trained students. She was a detective righting wrongs. She was a fabulous, funny friend. Yes, she was a thief at one time. In her 700 years, you focused on three years of her life. Those are what you chose to remember." Duncan shook his head at the audacity of the Crusaders. "Even so, she never killed anyone. She never robbed from those who didn't deserve it or couldn't afford it."

"She was a regular Robin Hood."

Duncan's stare made Denise lose her bravado. He continued more forcefully, "She never turned her back on a friend. Or, we can talk about Terry Payson. I didn't know her, but I'm deeply saddened she was killed. By you. One of her own. Does that make her murder less than... say... Darrell's? Darrell's was the worst death ever? Because an immortal killed him, it made it worse? One of Terry's own killing her doesn't make you lose sleep at night?"

"She wasn't one of us. She married one of them," Denise pointed out with bitterness.

"Yeah. What a stupid bitch," Duncan said sarcastically, which made Amanda gawk at him in shock for choosing those particular words. "She found someone to love. She actually married him, can you imagine? She encouraged her husband's painting. She managed his career. What audacity she had. What a way to hurt people. Yeah, she didn't deserve to live," he said snidely.

Denise scrutinized her fingernails as Duncan continued, "Or Elizabeth. The person you seemed to have blamed all this on. She's been a professor or high school teacher for over a century, caring about her students, taking a ho-hum subject like history that kids just want to pass in and making it interesting. She wants to go back to that. Why? Because she loves it. She told me she loves seeing kids' eyes when things click and confusing, boring, historical dates, names, and places all suddenly come to life and make sense. She's a mother to a ten year old girl and just got her family back. She's wife to one of my best friends, who on many occasions has told me he's never been happier than when he's with her. She never looked for a challenge. She had nothing to do with Darrell's death."

"She should have taken out Logan long before he set his sights on my brother."

"Shoulda, coulda, woulda," Amanda humphed with a shrug.

Duncan continued, "So, you want her to kill. Just to save your brother, for one person, you want Elizabeth to be what she isn't? Logan was after her. Logan had killed her many painful times, playing with her by not taking her head. Logan took her teacher's head in front of her when she couldn't even defend herself from him. Logan turned her immortal. It is Logan who was your villain, it is not Liz, it is not me, or anyone else you had kidnaped. Darrell is dead. It happened. It's tragic. But it had nothing whatsoever to do with any of the seventeen people who were strapped in chairs, with blades at their necks, in that room in Shiloh a couple of days ago."

When Denise flinched, the thought of what happened to them hopefully finally sinking in, Duncan said, "You don't think I've ever sought revenge before? I have. I've gotten it. You know what? Attaining revenge is pretty hollow. The reason you wanted it in the first place already happened and nothing will change it, not even someone's blood on your hands. You have to live with it, Denise. You have to live with Brynn Thayer Cochrane's and Terry Payson's blood on your hands. I do hope Darrell is resting in peace and has not turned over in his grave, I hope you can live with yourself."

Amanda continued to watch her man talk slowly and seriously to Denise for the next half hour. He was at times hard and forceful, at others coaxing. Moment by moment pointing out how useless Denise's indignation was, how misplaced her want for revenge. By the time he had finished, Denise no longer came up with softball retorts to his points and begrudgingly said she would think about revealing information about her sect. By the time Nick took over to interview her about who she knew in the organization, Amanda took Duncan in her arms and told him, "I love you more than you will ever know. You're quite a catch."

"Actually, I'm starving," he whispered to her with a grin. "And I want to catch a salmon. Let's go."

He turned to Warren, Thomas, and Nick, who had taken places at the table with Denise. "We're going out for a while. Don't wait up."

~~~~~

Methos had done a bit of calling around to hotels in the city while Elizabeth and Claire packed up their things, and he had gotten pretty much the same response from all of the hotels: a chuckle and "no vacancies". Didn't hotels keep a block of rooms available for people who needed them and could certainly pay through the nose for them? After a couple of hours of calling, Methos told his family that instead of moving across town, they were moving three blocks away to the Intercontinental Central Park South Hotel. Claire was excited because it was near the park and she missed green. The green trees of their California and Kent homes had been what she missed the most in New York City.

They slipped out of the St. Regis and took a cab over to their new digs, careful not to allow Claire to carry anything or move her arm too much after strapping on her sling and zipping her coat over her without putting her broken arm through the sleeve. The shimmering gold, rich red, and marble of the lobby made Elizabeth swoon. It exuded a traditional European atmosphere that she did find attractive. Claire's only comment was that the Queen Anne table near the check in desk was dusty. Elizabeth glanced at Methos with a smile. "You know, she's getting pretty jaded about opulence at a very young age."

"Ah, I'll just move her into a two bedroom walk up in Paris again to remind her of how the little people live."

"Not without me you won't."

Methos kissed her warmly. "That wasn't ever a possibility."

"Did you let the Paris apartment go?" she asked, not liking that little place or anything that had happened there at all. If she never saw it again, it would be too soon.

"No. I'll have to go and empty it out one day. When Claire's better. We'll all go. You know," Methos said as if the thought just came to him. "I can show you Paris too, you know. It's my city." He whispered, "I was there when it was born," so no one but Elizabeth could hear.

Elizabeth had hated Paris with a passion after everything that happened to her and her comrades during World War II. It was the place where Daniel was turned and she thought she lost Methos forever when they were run over by that car driven by an angry immortal, and the place where she and Methos had their worst argument ever exchanging blatant lies as if they were truths. At first she wanted to forget there was such a city, but then again she had come to see the beauty in it that one day and night with Duncan. For Methos to show her his Paris would be an intriguing offer that she decided she couldn't pass up.

By happy chance, for their sake, the King of Spain had to leave the Presidential Suite to fly home for a funeral after a member of government was killed in an accident the previous night. Methos snapped it up. The suite was more than Elizabeth could take in. It was massive with high ceilings, large windows, a fireplace, three bedrooms, a study with internet access, four balconies that looked out over the park and northern skyline of the city, and even a small kitchen and dining table. There were TV's, VCR's, and stereos in every room, much to the delight of Claire and Methos. In the master bedroom was a four poster king sized bed, a walk-in closet shelled with aromatic cedar, and a marbled master bathroom with jacuzzi for two and a shower with five shower heads to be directed at every part of your body, or bodies, as the case may be. That did it for Elizabeth. She wanted to be a president and live like this all the time.

After turning on the TV and flipping through the channels, Claire joined Elizabeth on one of the terraces to look out over the park. From the 23^rd floor, it was a glorious day. The snow was still there, but the sky was a crisp blue and there was only a gentle breeze. Just being in a sweater was warm enough for Elizabeth, but she put her arm around Claire to test if she was chilled. She claimed she wasn't, but Elizabeth would keep an eye on her. From their vantage point, they could see people skating on the pond and going through the zoo in the park. The Dakota, Lincoln Center, and Carnegie Hall were to their left, while the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Fifth Avenue shops were on their right. Elizabeth thought she could see the Roosevelt-St. Luke's Hospital from there as well, and was happy that they were close in case anything happened to Claire. Her own clinic wasn't too far from there either, and she reminded herself she had an appointment that Monday to see Dr. Bradford again.

Claire tugged on Elizabeth's arm and said, "I want to go to the park. Can we?"

"Haven't you had enough excitement for one day?"

"No. I haven't had excitement for a long time. Let's go. It's a nice day."

If she was willing and had the energy, Elizabeth didn't see the harm in just walking out the back door of the hotel and around the park a little bit. "Go see what your dad thinks." Elizabeth stood on the balcony a moment longer after Claire went inside.

Elizabeth laughed when she heard Claire call out to Methos, "Dad! Mom wants to go to the park. Let's go!" She did love this city and since everything seemed fine in her world, she enjoyed being home.

~~~~~

Just as Methos, Elizabeth, and Claire had exited the back doors of the hotel that faced Central Park, a man walked up to them and asked, "Carriage ride around the park?"

"Yes!" Claire bounced with happiness as she bounded to the horse and tried to pet it. Methos held her back and tried to settle her down. It seemed that the girl was just busting free to be outside, she never was one to sit around the house.

Elizabeth helped Claire into the carriage as Methos paid the driver, then got in himself. Claire was safely tucked between them, a blanket covering all three of their legs, and Elizabeth was careful not to accidently hit the pins in Claire's arm under the coat as she was on her left side. Once again, Claire's coat was zipped close over her broken arm in a sling. During the carriage ride, they passed the pond, Belvedere Castle, The Dairy, The Carousel, where Claire wanted to get off and ride it. Methos had said no long walks for them. At least, not yet. "There's always tomorrow, Claire," he reminded her, and Claire seemed to take it in stride. When they passed the Swedish Cottage Marionette Theater, she looked to Methos, who just shook his head no. They weren't going to take in a marionette play. Shakespeare Garden did look inviting, even blanketed in snow, as was Bethesda Terrace. Claire again looked pleadingly at her parents when they reached the museum where she wanted to see the new exhibit, but again, both parents shook their head no. As the horse continued to lead them through the park, Elizabeth was telling her all that they were seeing, what was inside, and sometimes anecdotes of an experience at each place. She had, after all, had lived in New York for about fifty years all totaled. Claire had finally looked at her to ask, "How do you know so much?"

"I do know some things, and had a life before you," Elizabeth said with a smile. "It wasn't a great life, but it was a life."

"You lived here?"

"Sure. I loved it."

"Can we keep living here so you like it?"

Elizabeth looked to her daughter and smiled. Claire wanted everything to be so perfect and both parents happy, regardless of anything. Elizabeth carefully hugged her head without moving her body against her and kissed her temple. "I'll be happy wherever we are, but I think it would be best if we didn't live in a large city. What do you think?"

"I have to agree with that," Methos said. Elizabeth knew that he did love living in cities as there was more excitement, easy transit, and it was easy to blend in, but since they've been raising Claire, it was the smaller communities where there were good schools, big back yards, and easy living without the bustle and violence that city life could bring. "Be patient, Little One. We'll know it when we find it."

"Know what?" she asked as the carriage ride came full circle back to the hotel.

"Where we belong," he said as he got up to get out of the carriage.

"I don't want to go back inside yet, dad," Claire whined.

"Who said we had to?" Methos hopped down to the concrete. "This guy isn't going to drive us around all day."

"He will if you give him enough money." Claire looked eager to convince her dad she wanted to go around the park again, and probably to talk them into seeing some of the sights.

Methos and Elizabeth exchanged a look. "I think it's time she got an allowance and learned the value of money and not come to expect every whim to be paid for," Methos said evenly, to which Elizabeth nodded, but for now, Elizabeth wanted Claire to enjoy some more outside time. She wanted Claire to get good and tired so when they got back to their magnificent suite and ate, she'd go right to sleep until morning so Elizabeth could concentrate on taking care of all of Methos' whims.

The three of them walked into the park, Elizabeth holding Claire's right hand, Methos holding the swinging left arm sleeve of her jacket. Elizabeth hoped that the moving of it wouldn't nudge the pins, but that was for Claire to worry about as well. She'd let him know if it hurt. From the look of her, though, Claire was having the time of her life. Elizabeth thought it quite fun as well, being with Methos and Claire, on a crisp and clear afternoon, people watching as they walked the wide, asphalt trails, which were mercifully free of ice and snow. The snow still clung to the trees and grass areas, which made the park have a special texture after the blizzard of just nine days before. The weather had been abnormally cold for snow to last so long in the city. Elizabeth couldn't believe that less than two weeks ago, she was in Philadelphia with Duncan thinking Methos would never even talk to her again, let alone be with her.

Claire suddenly broke free from her parents and ran into a clearing of trees and stomped into the snow. "What are you doing?" Elizabeth called to her, while Methos followed her. Claire plopped down on the snow and then carefully laid down flat.

Elizabeth trudged through the two foot deep snow to them. She could see a look of discomfort on Claire's face, but it was fleeting. She called out to Methos, "Dad, make an angel with me. You too, Mom." Claire started swishing her right arm and legs on the snow after Methos shrugged and then dropped to the snow and did the same.

Elizabeth laughed at the sight of them, but not for too long. Methos grabbed her leg, and she fell on the other side of him. After he urged her to get with the program and make an angel, she did. The snow getting into the collar of her coat, but they were all three laughing so hard, it didn't bother her.

Claire sat up and the lifted her right arm to Methos. "Help me up so I can see it."

Methos got to his feet and pulled Claire off her angel. She turned to look and frowned. Elizabeth sat up to see what was wrong, and saw that Claire's angel only had one arm. Methos looked to Claire and said, "I'll fix that."

Elizabeth got to her feet as Methos got to his knees at Claire's snow angel. Elizabeth brushed chunks of snow from Claire's head, careful to not get it down her back inside the coat. Soon, Methos was done and got to his feet again. The only change to Claire's coat was where he had drawn a halo above the angel's head. He looked satisfied, smiling at his work. Claire grimaced. "Dad, my angel still has only one arm. I can't make it with this thing on." She had pulled her arm out as her unzipped coat billowed.

"Oh," Methos gasped overtly. "Yes. I believe I forget something." He once again stooped to his knees and started making changes to the angel, but Elizabeth and Claire couldn't see what he was doing. He got up, again satisfied. On the compacted body of Claire's angel, he had written CLAIRE 2013.

"You didn't give it an arm," Claire commented.

"You're an angel even with one arm, Little One," he said. "This is lasting memory that you hurt your arm in the winter of 2013."

"Lasting? Snow melts, Dad."

"Thanks for the lesson." Methos shook his head. "Kids these days," he told Elizabeth. "They have no concept of loving gestures. I don't know why I bother."

"Can we go to the museum? I want to see that exhibit," Claire asked, pointing at the Metropolitan in the distance.

Methos brushed more snow from Claire's back and legs and felt her start to shiver. "Time to get back. We can play those games you wanted to play," Methos continued.

"All right, but we have to go buy some. Let's get some good ones. Scrabble? Trivial Pursuit?"

"No," Methos said, directing Claire to the hotel. "We're going to make up games if we're going to play games. We have minds, we can come up with something."

~~~~~

Joe and Liam seemed to have waited an eternity for Guy to exit Headquarters. They had grabbed a bite to eat, and Liam had suggested they get some sleep and check into a hotel. Joe didn't want any part of that. As long as his son-in-law wasn't sleeping, he wouldn't either. They had been outside Headquarters for almost an hour, which made Joe nervous wondering if Guy'd gotten shot or what. He had to believe that the Board and 'new guard' of the Watchers had been truthful with them, but years of experience had taught Joe that you should assume nothing of anyone you didn't know well.

Just when he had decided to go in and see what Guy was doing, Liam saw Guy coming out a side door. Because it was a bit chilly, Guy immediately put his hands in his coat pockets and turned his face from the wind. He spotted them and came running. "Joe," he called with a grin.

Guy was younger and sprier than he, so Joe stayed put and waited for Guy to reach them, though Liam had met him across the street. Joe could tell that the immortal didn't like just waiting around and had done a good job of being a good boy letting the Watchers do what needed to be done. If there was going to be a war, Liam would have plenty to do then.

Guy reached Joe with that same grin that seemed to spread and actually become infectious. "Never let it be said I didn't give you anything."

"Well, I did notice you missed sending me a card on my last birthday."

"I was a bit busy keeping tabs on half of a broken up married couple." Guy reached into his pocket, produced a computer printout as if it were the Holy Grail itself, unfolded it across his chest, and presented it to Joe.

"What's this?"

"Al Cartwright's current location."

Joe looked at the paper, and then smiled at Guy. He clapped Guy's shoulder and said, "My boy, this is worth the next ten Christmases."

"Should we go now to take him out?" Liam asked.

"No."

"No?" Guy asked confused.

"Not we," Joe stated with all seriousness. "Me. Alone. You guys go to your wives. I'll take care of Alyce."

Continued