THE ELIZABETH SERIES
CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR

REQUIEM

by JoLayne

RATING: PG

CHARACTERS: Methos, Joe, Duncan, Amanda, Warren, Cassandra, Amy, OC's Elizabeth, Claire, Guy, Liam, Thomas (Thanks Erik), James, Nick, Megan, etc.

SUMMARY: Immortals and Watchers gather to say goodbye to fallen friends.

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.

~~~~~

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 2013

Joe Dawson was on top of the world, literally. He was flying in a private Watcher plane back to the states in order to take down the Big Kahuna, Alyce Cartwright, himself. Just as the plane started its descent to Lebanon, NH, Joe looked through his briefcase again to make sure his driver would know exactly where to go. The Norris Cotton Cancer Center looked like a grand place in the picture Guy had given him, along with a blueprint of the entire building. Gleaning all the information about the Center was easy. You could find out most anything in a matter of hours when you were a Watcher. Ah, new technology, the internet, databases, mass communications... Joe remembered when you had to actually do some leg work and put a few fifties into the hands of the people with the information you wanted in order to find out anything. Now a couple of clicks on a computer and you could print it out. Normally he thought it took all the fun out of information gathering, but in this case, Joe was glad to have it all at his disposal. In a few short hours, after a leisurely drive from the private airfield to the Center and finding Cartwright, it would all be over.

Well, not all over, but the death of Cartwright would signal to everyone he had turned to his side that their day was done. Over the weekend Denise Foley had started to talk, giving up the names of her associates. Joe couldn't tell from phone calls with Duncan if she had actually changed her mind about her mission or she was just trying to save her own neck. Actually, it didn't matter now. Duncan, Thomas, Liam, and Guy were locating more members of the Crusaders, and the Watchers had provided more men. Everyone rounded up was sent to a collection point in Connecticut. He could imagine the interrogations that Watchers were performing in Building GG of Sector 482, to extract more information about the activities of the members of the cult that had infiltrated their system. Joe hoped that the new, seemingly sanitized, Watcher system still included the old interrogation techniques such as water torture, bright lights, no sleep, no food, and guns at their heads. Joe hoped they were all sweating badly, were in pain, and were crying for their mamas. Most of all, he hoped they were squealing, like the pigs they were.

An hour later, Joe walked in the front door of the Norris Cotton Cancer Center, past the information desk clerk, who was a pleasant woman with a ready smile. He noticed people in the lobby. There were little girls playing with Legos in the corner, one of whom was wearing a scarf as she had no hair, with their mother hovering over them to make sure they were okay. An old man was in a chair with a glazed look in his eye, probably having just finished a chemotherapy treatment. The people he passed in the mauve walled and carpeted hallway on his walk to the elevator were either cancer patients, who smiled through what had to be pain, or the dedicated professionals who seemed to be a caring lot. As Joe entered the elevator, he knew a man like Alyce Cartwright didn't belong there. With what he had done, Cartwright should be wasting away in a back alley somewhere, not in a place of healing and caring such as this. He didn't deserve to be cared for by what looked to be trusting souls who were tirelessly searching for cures and new therapies to help more cancer patients survive.

It took no time to find Cartwright's room. Joe just opened the door and walked inside. Cartwright was alone, if you could call it that. As Joe slowly shut the hydraulic door behind him, he stared at his nemesis. Having expected him to be hooked up to a multitude of machines and hoses, Joe was surprised to see that there was only an oxygen tube at his nose. Then Joe remembered an uncle of his who had died of lung cancer. At the end, after signing a living will, all machinery was shut off and the nurses simply made him comfortable until he slipped away. Cartwright's eyes were closed, and he appeared not to have heard anyone come in as Joe slowly made his way to his bedside. It didn't feel right that Cartwright seemed so peaceful. He should be moaning in pain for what he had done.

It was only when Joe was standing right next to the man he had known for years, and who had seemingly shrunk, even since he had last seen him a week ago, that he could tell Cartwright was near the end. He heard one rasping breath. Then another. Cartwright's chest rose and fell hard with each little breath he took. It seemed that just the act of breathing was taking a lot of energy.

Then Cartwright opened his eyes. They weren't the vivid blue Joe remembered him having. They were pale, grey. His eyes were also bloodshot. It seemed to take a great deal of energy for him to keep his eyes open as well as breath. His chest rose and fell faster. Joe's presence had certainly affected him. Good, Joe thought as he smiled, glowing in this time of revenge.

"Scared Alyce?"

Cartwright just laid back breathing hard, as there wasn't much he could do. Joe saw him move his finger to the nurse button, so Joe knocked it to the floor. Cartwright's eyes widened, and closed as if he was collecting his thoughts, or maybe praying to God he wouldn't burn in hell for all eternity, which was what he deserved. He had to know what Joe had come to do and was a scared coward.

"Slipping away?"

Then, Cartwright opened his eyes, his breathing still an effort. His eyes fastened on Joe and they didn't waver. There was a new look on his face that Joe couldn't read. It wasn't clenched anymore.

"Lung cancer," Joe said, slowly shaking his head. "Man, that's gotta hurt. I heard it was one of the most painful ways to die."

Cartwright's stare didn't waver from Joe's face, and Joe could tell it took much strength for him to hold the stare. His breathing was still making his body work harder, and there was a rattle to his inhales.

Joe enjoyed that his presence was making Cartwright hurt more. "You know how folks with cancer die? They usually starve to death. Yep. The cancer takes over the body's digestive function. Food even makes them sicker. It's a long... slow... painful death."

Cartwright's eyes started to well up and there was a pleading quality to them as he took hold of Joe's hand. To have that man's cold, damp hand on his almost made Joe wretch. It was as if a snake had coiled around his hand.

Joe took Cartwright's hand off his, which wasn't a hard task, since Cartwright was weak. He grabbed one of the pillows from behind Cartwright's head and held it up. To Joe's surprise, Cartwright seemed to egg him on, telling him he was doing the right thing. He hadn't said a word, more than likely because his throat was raw, or it was just too much effort to talk. Joe remembered his uncle going through the same thing at the end. Only his uncle was like a father to Joe. Watching him die was painful, whereas watching Cartwright suffer pleased him.

"Would you like me to end your misery?" Joe asked as he held the pillow up, he could easily take the oxygen tube out of his mouth and put the pillow over Al's face. It certainly wouldn't take long to end his life.

Cartwright's eyes plead for Joe to do just that. Joe held the pillow where he could see it, and waited. He enjoyed watching the bastard begging for mercy. Alyce lifted his head from the two pillows still behind his head; his face was getting redder; his jagged breaths were louder, as if Cartwright was barking at him to just do it. End his misery. Now.

Joe smiled as he dropped the pillow on the floor. "Not a chance." A bullet to his head would only give Joe a moment's satisfaction. Cartwright would die painlessly, quickly, which was not at all what Joe wanted now that he saw the condition the Watcher was in.

Cartwright's eyes grew wide and his head fell back on the pillows. Joe leaned forward to whisper, " You're going to fight for every breath you have to take, for as long as you have to take them."

Cartwright closed his eyes, and if Joe could read him correctly, he was crying. Joe continued, "With each breath, think about Brynn Thayer Cochrane. Think about Terry Payson. Think about me, my daughter, my son, my friends, all strapped in that room that you created. Think about them... walking, talking, playing, laughing, loving, enjoying life, not once thinking about you. Your grunts are dead or will be in a matter of days. There are no secrets anymore. Nothing is classified. You've been found out. All you created is destroyed. When I leave here, I will not think of you again either. None of your life's work will last longer than a heartbeat and no one will even remember your name within a year. How's that for a legacy? "

Cartwright audibly cried out as Joe stepped back from his bed. The act of crying was taking a lot of out Cartwright, and his chest started to convulse. The rattle in his breath was loud. Suddenly, a nurse came in and looked worried. She ran past Joe to Cartwright's bedside as she tried to calm him down. Joe left without a word to her or Cartwright. As he made his way to the elevator, he knew Cartwright didn't have long for this world, and God would make sure each minute was unpleasant for him.

~~~~~

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 25, 2013
NEW YORK CITY

Methos and Elizabeth helped Claire out of the hospital to the cab after a visit with Dr. Freelow so he could check her progress. The most comforting thing he had said was that Claire seemed to be getting along great and he was pleased that she wasn't experiencing headaches. The most jarring thing he had said was that soon her pins would loosen and fall out. She would decide when she'd had the pins in long enough, and when it was time and the pins turned in her hands without her screaming with pain, Dr. Freelow told her to go ahead and take them out. Claire seemed at once grossed out and horrified, but also intrigued. She looked at her bare upper arm with awe that she would have some power over the situation. After the pins came out, she should, however, come straight in to see him in case she needed a cast, in the meantime she should certainly try to keep still and wear her sling if she was going to do any walking.

Methos had taken the opportunity to ask Dr. Freelow privately if it would be okay to take Claire on a short, out of town trip. Explaining that they had to fly to Phoenix, but not getting into the reason why. Dr. Freelow told him that if Claire was up to it and she didn't over exert, he saw no reason why not. "After all," he said as he smiled at Claire. "Claire is the best judge of how much she can do."

When they settled into the cab, Methos watched Elizabeth fuss with making sure Claire was comfortable and not too cold, even asking the cab driver to turn the heat up. Methos smiled when he realized the man either couldn't speak English, or wasn't in the mood to be accommodating. He leaned forward to see the driver's license on the dashboard. His name sounded Pakistani, so Methos asked him in his native language if he could turn up the heat as his daughter was ill and there would be a big tip for him if he did. Methos smiled as he leaned back and looked at his family.

Claire asked, "Dad? What did you tell that man?"

"I asked him to turn the heat up."

"What language was that?"

Methos realized that his cleverness may have been his undoing. He immediately said, "Dutch," for no reason whatsoever other than it was the first language that came to mind. It was a stupid cover, but to his relief, Claire changed the subject after rolling her eyes at him.

"Why are we going to Phoenix?"

"To say goodbye to some friends," Elizabeth said solemnly.

"Why do you have to do that?"

"They died, honey."

"How?"

Elizabeth looked to Methos, who said, "In an accident. Say, maybe you want to stay with Amy and the kids for a few days. Mom has to be back in New York for her doctor's appointment on Thursday. It would just be a couple of nights."

"Amy's going to Phoenix, too," Elizabeth said, shooting down his good plan. He never wanted Claire's ears anywhere around any talk about Crusaders or Watchers or Immortals or anything she didn't need to know about yet and had been trying to think of a way to prevent Claire from going.

"Who died? Do I know them?"

"I don't think so," Methos said, knowing that Claire had seen Terry once but certainly wouldn't remember her. Hell, he hardly remembered her. Brynn was someone who Claire was around a lot when she was a baby, but she wouldn't know her now. That thought made Methos sad, and more than mad. Claire should know people like Brynn. In some ways his nomad, hermit existence may be a detriment to his daughter and he again wondered if she was being raised right. In no other area of his life did he have such second thoughts about his actions. He kissed Claire on the head because she was so important to him. Her future rested on his and Elizabeth's shoulders. What kind of immortal she became might be determined by how she was raised and if she was prepared for it. Keeping everything about their immortal life from her had been hard at times, but Methos wondered if she should start to be trained, such as Elizabeth had suggested she take fencing lessons when her arm heals. This was something they would have to revisit when they were alone. It seemed that daily there were decisions to be made about how Claire was raised, and again, much to his dismay and confusion, he worried about how he had been doing it.

~~~~~

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 2013
PHOENIX

Because he and Brynn had carried on a nomad existence ever since Sofia and Antonio were killed, Warren didn't feel they had roots anywhere. The people who knew them in Australia would notice that he hadn't aged, so Warren hadn't returned to the place he had met Brynn to bury her. Those in Portugal were still stunned by Sofia and Antonio's deaths for him to feel that old stomping ground was their home. They had lived in London, Seacouver, and Los Angeles since then, but no place could be considered home. Warren was Scottish, but Brynn hadn't ever been privy to just how much he loved his homeland. After Duncan had shown Warren how misplaced his fanatic worship of Bonnie Prince Charlie was, and because of it he had killed his student by mistake, he had come to sour on the place. Brynn was from Ireland, but each time he had mentioned he would like to see her homeland, she never wanted to go. He didn't know why she left Ireland and didn't want to return, and for just an instant thought to ask if Methos knew why. The two of them had known each other before Warren met Brynn, and that had always been a sticky point. Warren loved Brynn more than anyone in his life and all men she knew before him were the focus of jealousy.

When Nick had talked to Megan about how James and Jan were doing, she had said that they were planning Terry's funeral. On the spur of the moment, Warren asked if Brynn could be a part of it, that he would be honored to have Brynn laid to rest with Terry. Nick and Megan were more than happy to help him make the plans. Warren had felt lucky that the Watchers had found her body. His distaste for where they found it would stay with him for the rest of his life. Brynn and Terry had been unceremoniously dumped into a sewage ditch about a mile from the warehouse near Shiloh. Their bodies had started to decompose. Not only was Brynn headless, but it was impossible to have an open coffin. Putting a high shirt or scarf around the neck was usual for immortal burials, but now he couldn't even show the world one last time how beautiful she was. James and Warren had decided to have their loved ones cremated and had already made plans to spread their ashes at the Grand Canyon. Of course, that was forbidden, but they wouldn't tell if no one else would. A favorite picture of Brynn that he kept in his wallet had been blown up and elegantly framed on an easel near her urn. Terry Payson's beaming face was next to Brynn's in her own portrait on another easel next to the urn that contained her ashes.

The church was quiet at the moment since it was three hours before the funeral was due to start. He wasn't expecting to see anyone he knew there. Duncan was in charge of finding Crusaders, and that's where Warren wanted him to stay. He wanted him to focus on getting those bitches and bastards who plotted and killed his wife and making them pay. Just being around Denise Foley, even after she started talking, was very hard. He had wanted to rip her limb from limb for what she had done to his beloved Brynn. All of them. Warren held the frame of Brynn's portrait to steady himself as tears rolled down his cheeks, being unable to fend them off any longer. The pain of wondering how he was going to live without her was too massive to ignore or control any longer.

~~~~~

James Payson walked into the Desert Sands Lutheran Church for the first time without his wife by his side. It was she who had belonged there, as James hadn't thought about God or religion since friendly cannon fire ended his mortal life in 1817. Now he was walking to his wife's funeral with his sister-in-law holding onto his elbow. He could feel her shake and step lightly over the threshold. At that moment, James decided to put his own grief on hold and make sure Jan got through this day with her sanity intact.

Since the moment when Jan had prepared to take a bath and the Crusaders had entered their house, his wife's kid sister had an awful time of it. James wished he had been there for her. She had been shot in the head, which thankfully was probably painless. For her to revive covered in blood, dazed in the bathroom, and himself and Terry missing, then to be told she was immortal by a stranger and given to another stranger, a Watcher no less, for protection, all the while wondering what had happened to her sister and James, had to have been terrible for her. All Jan's life she had been protected. She was the adopted daughter of Rose and Henry Lawson, because Rose had taken ill, and an infection made it impossible for them to conceive after having Terry two years before. Terry and their parents had made sure Jan knew that whether adopted or naturally born into their family, she was one of them and was loved just as much. Another child, a boy named Gregory, had also been adopted, but he died of pneumonia when he was eight. From hearing Terry and Jan tell it, the girls were raised in a loving home. Neither girl had wanted for anything, and didn't ask for much. Jan had just been growing into her own woman, going for her master's degree in English Literature with hopes of becoming a professor and maybe trying her hand at fiction when James had found out her older sister was his Watcher.

James had spotted Terry following him on an overcast, chilly, winter day in the Valley of the Sun, and he was instantly taken. Any woman who would wear an orange blouse over an electric blue satin skirt with canary yellow, spiked hair had to be following him because she was smitten, not because she was his Watcher, of course. The color scheme of her clothes and hair was exactly the pallet he had used for his last painting and he actually couldn't take his eyes off her.

After he had offered to buy her a coffee to cut the chill, they were together 24-7, though it was at least three weeks before she had confessed she was in fact his Watcher. She had seen him painting in his studio and really liked that painting of the desert and had specifically chosen those exact colors for her wardrobe that day. She had felt triumphant when he had said "You're quite the looker, you know," she had told him with the spark of life in her eyes that he hadn't seen in many during his lifetime. She had been following him for over six months, and he hadn't noticed her once. She had told him, "You weren't supposed to. I just couldn't take it anymore. You're just too cute and I had to at least talk to you."

Terry had brought so much love and life to his ordinary existence, and now he missed her terribly, and it had only been a little more than a week since he had last touched her. He didn't know how he would survive without her. Since making the off-the-cuff decision to get through the day by helping Jan through it, he looked at his sister-in-law with a new determination. He would help Jan once again feel the spark of life that Terry had and help her make a smooth transition from mortal to immortal if it was the last thing he ever did. James couldn't look at Terry's picture or Warren crying over Brynn's. Instead, he helped Jan to a pew to sit before she fell down and focused his attention on her. The best way he could honor his wife was to make sure her sister, who had now lost the last member of her family, got her life back to where it was before.

When he had returned to Arizona after being freed from the Crusaders and saw Jan for the first time, happy that she was still alive, but grieved to see the pain in her eyes, she had told him that she had lost everything. Not only her best friend and sister but her desire for anything that was important in her mortal life. She was not going to return to school. At that time, James agreed with her, that it would just be a waste as she wouldn't be able to concentrate on it anyway. Now, he was whistling a different tune. He wanted Jan to want to go back to school, to want to train and learn how to hold and use a sword, to know that there was still a life to lead, and to make it the best life she could. He had Terry to thank for that unexpected courage he found deeply embedded in his heart. Sitting here in God's house in such pain and grief, he knew that Terry had to have put that thought in his head.

James looked to his wife's portrait and smiled. She had a myriad of hairstyles and hair colors in the years he had been with her. Always surprising him with a new look was one of her favorite things, and boredom was never a trait. The picture he had chosen for her funeral was one where she had raspberry tresses that fell to her shoulders and wore a bright yellow dress. He left Jan only long enough to go and properly say goodbye to his wife, alone.

~~~~~

Ever since landing at Sky Harbor Airport, Elizabeth had felt uneasy. Now as she prepared to walk into the Desert Sands Lutheran Church holding Methos' hand, she came to a dead standstill as if an invisible force stopped her at the foyer. She didn't know if the source of her unease was because of their reason for being in Phoenix, or because she and Methos had left Claire, Joey, and Katie alone with a Watcher they didn't know but Megan and Nick trusted with their lives, perhaps it was the power of the Immortal buzzes inside, or maybe her meds picked today of all days not to work. Elizabeth reached out for Methos, who thankfully was standing right next to her. "I don't know if I can do this," she whispered, her heart starting to race and head starting to pound.

Methos wrapped his arm around her shoulder and whispered back, "It's not easy for any of us to be here, but we should-"

"Are you sure Claire is all right with that man?"

"Now don't start putting thoughts in my head. I want to have a perfectly enjoyable funeral. You were the one who said we should trust Megan in the first place."

"I do. Where's Amy?" Elizabeth craned her neck to look around for her.

"I imagine she'll be here soon."

After putting their money card into a basket by the door and picking up two memorial cards for Brynn and Terry, Methos obviously felt some sort of indication of how her insides were churning violently because he softened his voice and said, "It's all right, Lizzie. If you want to leave, we'll leave, but I think you'll regret it if we do. We need closure for what happened in Shiloh, and this is the best way to do it."

As usual Methos seemed to know what was bothering her better than she did. Of course, she thought, it had to have been the sudden memory of what happened in that room that had made her all shivery. "Put it all behind us, huh? This will work?"

"It will work better than if we just go back to the hotel. Besides, I was looking forward to seeing Joe so he can tell me what's going on inside the organization."

"Okay," she said just before kissing him and gathering up her courage to accomplish the simple task of walking into the church.

Maybe what hit her so powerfully were the beautiful flowers that they had sent-along with many others by the looks of the church, or seeing Warren and James sitting by the ashes of their wives, then not seeing Amy, Duncan, or Amanda anywhere. There would be comfort in numbers, she had thought, especially after she and Methos were told that there were more than likely going to be Watchers at the funeral. Maybe it was her reacquired passion to keep Methos safe from Watchers that had made her jumpy. Whatever the reason, she followed Methos as he made his way to the back row of pews of the church.

~~~~~

Joe clapped his cell phone closed and smiled as he walked into the Desert Sands Lutheran Church. He had placed Greg Moriarty near the hospital with instructions that every visitor Cartwright had was to be relayed to him before they could even leave the hospital. Joe hoped it would take longer, but Alyce Cartwright had just bought the farm and wasn't going to imprison or kill anyone again. If they could capture the rest of the Crusaders, Joe thought he could actually have a good night's sleep.

Just as he was making his way into the church, he heard Amanda's voice behind him. She was heading up the stairs with Duncan and some blond trailing behind her. "Joe, so wonderful to see you!" she sang as she put her arms around him.

"That's quite a welcome, Amanda. Great to see you too. Hey, Mac. Who's the blond?"

Duncan seemed to have his hands full escorting the blond up the stairs, she looked like she'd rather be anywhere than there. "Denise Foley, Crusader, this is Joe Dawson, Board member. She's been telling some pretty interesting tales since we found her."

"You found her, darling," Amanda corrected him, then scowled at the woman.

"I'm cooperating," she moaned. "I don't know why I had to come here."

"So you can see the pain you caused some pretty decent people," Duncan told her with an edge to his voice that indicated danger if she didn't toe the line.

Duncan got Denise to the top step and Amanda took her arm and shoved her into the church foyer. "Hey, Liz," she called out when she had obviously spotted Elizabeth inside. Joe was eager to go in as well. Because Elizabeth was there, chances were very good Methos was too, and he hadn't seen the oldest man since they were trapped on steel chairs with everything that had happened.

Before Joe could follow Amanda into the church, Duncan grabbed his arm. Carefully, presumably not to knock Joe off balance, Duncan hugged him. Joe laughed and patted his shoulder. "What's this about, Mac?"

"I've heard about all you've been doing. I appreciate it. I'm glad you're well."

"I'm more than well, Mac. Al's gone home to roost, or would that be roast, down there in hell?"

"This just happened?"

"Not ten minutes ago."

The smile that crept upon Duncan's face and widened more made Joe give him another congratulatory hug. This would be a killer of a day, but there was some good news. As the men were congratulating themselves for jobs well done, Joe spotted a black limo come to a halt at the curb.

"You'll have to tell the Board, and make sure they know just because Cartwright's dead this isn't over. They can't sweep it under the rug. We have to keep going. No one involved should get away. We have to get them all, Joe."

All the while Duncan had talked, Joe was nodding and watching the men and women exit the limo. "Tell them yourself," Joe told him, indicating the new arrivals.

Duncan looked back at the party moving up the stairs. "I've got nothing to say to them. You're the go-between. I'm going to get a seat. I'll save one for you." With that, Duncan ducked into the church and took Denise's arm.

"Collin," Joe said in welcome to the CEO of the Watchers, who was naturally the leader of the pack up the stairs. "Nice of you to come."

"We had to, Joe," Macalrathy said as he shook Joe's hand.

"Yeah, you did," Joe agreed without animosity. Macalrathy was trying to forge a new Watcher system that Joe was all for, and he didn't want to give any indication that he wasn't behind him one hundred percent. Joe nodded to a tall black man he knew to be Lucas Mondongo, the African Head Watcher, then a petite red head he knew was the Australian Head, Cynthia Willow. The rest of the pack wasn't familiar. Joe asked, "Where's the rest of the Board?"

"It was short notice, Joe. They couldn't have made it with the time frame. They did send their condolences," he said as he took some envelopes from the inside pocket of his Armani suit jacket.

Joe studied Macalrathy's face to see if there was any trace of betrayal in the words he had uttered. He couldn't help but stay on his toes with the Watchers, not knowing if the new regime was up front with him in all matters. For now, he was satisfied with the reason the rest of the board hadn't made the journey to pay their respects to the fallen dead of Shiloh, two women who shouldn't have died if Watchers were on their toes about what was being perpetrated in their name by a bunch of maniacs.

As the entered the church, Macalrathy's eyes caught sight of Duncan, and asked, "Who's the other one with MacLeod?"

"Amanda."

"No, the other one. She looks familiar."

"Denise Foley? She looks familiar to you?" Joe asked guardedly. If he knew or remembered her from the past, the new Watcher CEO could very well have had a hand in the Crusaders.

"Oh, that's right," Macalrathy said when he remembered something. "I received a report about an email MacLeod sent with her picture. It's funny. The Crusaders all look so normal. Attractive even. But so soiled in their minds. It's hard to believe there's such evil in their heads."

"Mac would like her to survive this if at all possible."

Macalrathy turned to Joe with surprise. "I thought that Immortal wanted to annihilate them all."

"Mac's not a murderer. He just wants justice, like me and everyone else in that church. She's been helping us and has come to her senses. She still needs some punishment, but not death."

Cynthia piped up, "How about Siberia as her next assignment for a decade or so?"

Mondongo scoffed. "She could always put on more clothes for warmth in Siberia. I could bring her back with me to Kenya. Let's see if she can survive the heat."

Cynthia fanned herself. "It's quite hot here today."

"Ah, but it's a dry heat, Cyn," Macalrathy told her as he led her inside the church.

~~~~~

Megan put her hands on Warren and James' backs as they were in deep thoughts near their wives' urns. She felt so bad. She had watched Terry watch her husband for long enough to know she liked her, but hadn't known the beautiful Brynn at all. What hurt Megan the most over this whole ordeal was that she couldn't express how sad she was for their loss. As soon as she had touched Warren, he jerked around to glare at her. "No Watcher touches me ever again," he warned.

Megan squeaked, "Sorry," and rushed back to the pew where Nick and Thomas were sitting deep in conversation. There were a lot more people than she had expected at the funeral and more were pouring in when she sat down next to Nick. She had spotted Elizabeth and Daniel in the back pew with Amanda and some blond in the pew in front of them. The woman she knew was Terry's sister, Jan, was sitting alone in the front pew watching James mutter to Warren and keep his hand on Terry's urn. Fellow Watchers from Phoenix were scattered here and there around the church, and not many were speaking to each other.

"I guess I do blame myself," Thomas sighed. "A bit. Not much. I guess it's just Warren and now you pointing out how I shouldn't have taken the head of a blatant, trading, murderer so fast."

"He would have had useful information," Nick said without animosity, just as a plain fact. Then he stared at Thomas to ask, "Did it bother you in the least? He was your student."

"I know that. Yes, it was hard and yes I'm bothered!" Thomas' voice rose with each word he said and soon he had the entire church's attention. "But look what he did."

"He learned from you."

"Oh, now you're going to start being afraid of me?"

Taking that as a challenge Nick probably hadn't wanted to pose, he lowered his head and stared at the memorial card. Megan didn't catch Thomas' eyes. She wouldn't have known what to say to him in the first place, and he didn't seem to be in a conversational mood.

Quietly, Megan heard Thomas' voice and stretched forward to look past Nick to see him. "I did the best I could. I did what I thought was right." Thomas' head was bent and he croaked his next words, "I spent so much time teaching him to survive, I guess I never fully explained to him that you have to live with the choices you make. Just like I do now. I hasten to say it but... I miss him already, and yeah, I could have been a better teacher, but what's that going to do. I'll do better in the future."

~~~~~

Methos was deep in remembrance of Brynn Thayer Cochrane when Amy and Guy Barstow slipped into the pew next to Elizabeth, who kept a tight hold on his hand even though she was leaning away to hug Amy in welcome. Only Joe walking in and simply giving him a wink took Methos from those memories. Why he wasn't going to sit with them was beyond Methos, but only for a second. Methos' big fear, the reason he and Elizabeth had chosen to sit in the back row was because there would be Watchers in the audience. He didn't like to take too many chances. Methos was dead to them, and Methos wanted to keep it that way. If some nameless, faceless Watcher spotted him in the rectory and remembered his face during his days as Adam Pierson, the jig was up. Because Joe winked and walked on, the old mortal man must have had the same thing in mind. Not having seen Joe for a very long time, Methos was reminded just how much he loved the old, grizzled man and knew that he was one of the best friends that Methos had ever been privileged to have.

Behind Joe were a group of well-dressed men and women, who Methos could only guess were Watchers. With their arrival, Methos turned his head away from them and focused on Elizabeth. Her hand was shaky and her face looked quite pale. "It's all right," he told her in a whisper. "Just hold on, or if you want to leave..."

Elizabeth smiled at him and laid her head on his shoulder. "I do love you, you know."

"Of course. You never stopped and always will."

She looked up at him and kissed his cheek. "Boy, you got that right."

Methos turned to her and said with all seriousness, "I know that's how you feel, because that's how I feel about you."

After Joe had lead the Watchers to a row of pews, Duncan came to sit by Amanda with Denise on his other side in the pew in front of them, and Warren and James exchanged one last word to each other and sat down, the minister walked to the pulpit between the two women's urns and spoke. It was the usual prattle of gathering together to remember our loved ones and reminders that we should cherish their memories, as if Brynn was ever a lady to forget. Methos stopped paying attention soon after the minister started talking, focusing on the back of Amanda's head. Her hair had red highlights in it and was quite attractive. He looked to Elizabeth's dark hair and wondered if now was the time to mention he'd like her to try that with her hair. From her dire look, he decided it probably wasn't the time and it could wait. In fact, he would forget it. If he were to mention he liked anything about Amanda, Elizabeth might go ballistic. It was still untrodden territory for them to talk about the reversal of the foursome and it wasn't for him to bring any of it out into the open.

Methos looked to Duncan's wide shoulders and ponytail. In the early years of the 21^st century, the Highlander had lopped his hair off as some sort of a cleansing gesture for having taken his student's head. A thought came to him. Not only did Duncan take his student's head, but three others in the room had as well. Warren had gone nutso after taking his. Thomas had just recently taken his. Of course, Methos had taken two of his, but neither of the acts made him lose any sleep for doing so. They deserved it, just as Thomas' student had. Now a case might be made for Warren's student losing a few inches but was probably no loss in the long run, but Duncan may still be feeling the effects of having taken Richie's head for no reason other than he was momentarily psychotic. Methos looked to Elizabeth. She had almost taken his own head in such a state. Yes, life was a crap shoot. When he finally did lose his head, one way or another, in the near or distant future, it may be because he was bested in a challenge or by shear accident or as a result of the rage of another. However he lost it, Methos had decided he would enjoy life and all it had to give him and his family for as long as he had it to cherish.

The approach of a new immortal felt like a tornado along Methos' back. Just as the minister lead the congregation into the starting words of Amazing Grace, the doors opened at the back of the church. Each head spun around in front of Methos, then he did as well. Cassandra walked in somewhat out of breath. Liam was at her heels, along with Claudia Jardine and then a large hulky brute of a man who had to bend his head to be able to enter and who looked familiar to Methos.

The organist had stopped playing, probably for lack of response from the congregation, and all looked to the new arrivals in surprise. "I'm so sorry," Cassandra said loudly. "Our plane was delayed New York, and we came straight from the airport," Claudia had spotted Duncan and sat down beside him.

"Keep on with what you were doing," Liam added. "Amazing Grace? Brilliant." He nodded to the organist and started singing the first few lines himself. Soon, the entire congregation joined in.

Methos sang along as he studied the giant. With sudden memory, Methos murmured, "No, it can't be. He's a recluse."

After singing "that saved a wretch like me," Elizabeth asked Methos, "Who? What?"

"I don't believe it," was all Methos could say, but a smile overtook his face along with a friendly chuckle. If there was one Immortal who was as mythological as "Methos," it was the 1,500 year old Wulfgar. The Great Dane was the star of folklore that had turned into the first epic poem ever written in English. His tales had been so twisted with each retelling from one generation to the next that by the time King Alfred decided to have it written down Wulfgar was dubbed Beowulf, who slew the great dragon, bringing upon his death. Methos had always supposed that a tale such as that needed a heroic death, and since Wulfgar had just faded into the night after finally losing his thirst for blood, storytellers came up with a better ending. Wulfgar had never fought a dragon; he had lead his Danes into battle against more human foes. His lust for blood, justice, and beer had titillated Methos enough that when he had the chance to meet him in the flesh, the giant had drank him under the table.

"What are you smiling at?" Elizabeth asked as everyone finished singing the song.

"I wonder why he's here." Methos indicated the giant who barely fit into the pew, his body turned and his knees sticking far out into the aisle.

"Don't tell me you know him," Elizabeth whispered cautiously, looking ominously at the huge man.

"In another life."

As the minister stood up again to speechify and probably pray some more, Methos was surprised to see Wulfgar unfold himself from the pew and stalk up to the pulpit. The minister looked scared and stepped back, then almost fled back to his seat near the organist. The church seemed to vibrate with each step he took until Wulfgar took his spot in front of the microphone. He was totally at odds with what you would imagine. Considering how old he was and his hulking body frame, Methos hadn't expected him to be wearing a Tommy Hilfiger red and black t-shirt with creases from being folded, blue jeans that looked fresh off the department store shelves, and timberland boots, which looked as pristine as the jeans. Methos looked to Liam and Cassandra wondering in what sort of a store they could even find clothes to fit him. His hair seemed to be naturally wild and curly, but was probably freshly cut and combed for the solemn occasion. Even though it had to have been 700 years since Methos had met Wulfgar, he certainly remembered him. When you've drunk with a giant, you're not likely to forget it.

The church was quiet as they were all probably trying to figure out what on earth that man was doing there, and if that man was even possible in the first place. "Two days ago," he began in a soft, engaging, Germanic voice that Methos remembered but one would never expect to come out of such a large package. "I received a visitor. My son, Liam."

Heads turned toward one another in confusion. All the Immortals knew he was one of them, and Watchers were probably guessing the man who seemed from another time and place was Immortal, so having a son was quite a paradox. "He told me my daughter was murdered in cold blood."

Cutting through the fog of all the centuries between the present and when he had last seen Wulfgar, Methos remembered that Wulfgar had many students and considered each of them his children. Methos got a chill. You didn't want to be on the bad side of Wulfgar. If he was going to declare some sort of war, after not partaking in one in too many centuries to count, Methos was going straight to collect Claire and they would be on the first plane to the other side of the planet.

As if he knew exactly who the Watchers were in the pews, he lifted a great fleshy finger to point to each one individually and said, "You are the new Grendel. You have to live in the exhausting aftermath of what your lot did. I have battled foes much more powerful than you in my time."

With those words, a female member of the Watchers who arrived with Joe gasped and whispered to her companion as if she suddenly realized who was before her. While Methos was in the Watchers as Adam Pierson, he of course looked up immortals he knew or feared. Wulfgar was definitely one that filled both requirements. Methos knew him, but if he crossed any sort of line with him, Wulfgar would just as soon eat him as look at him. Caspian would have wet his pants to be in such company.

Everyone in the church now seemed to understand who was standing in front of them as whispers were exchanged from one to another. Methos only hoped that the facts about who he was weren't lost in the translation, in much the same way as his original story was twisted into the poem Beowulf.

The giant seemed to speak only to those he had pointed out previously, "I have lived a life of peace for centuries. This is enough to bring out my past instincts. I was a clansman, a warrior, defender of the meek. You are now the Evil that I will fight, if that is the choice you make. Mark my words, if my friends tell me more innocents are killed, you will see retaliation. Neither the warriors in this house of God, nor God himself will show you mercy."

One of the Watchers stood up and cleared his throat nervously when the giant's eyes cast upon him. "Sir. I am Colin Macalrathy, the 'leader' who you have pointed out. Mark my words, the deaths of Ms. Cochrane and Ms. Payson are reprehensible. We will be doing the fighting."

The giant smiled a woeful smile in Macalrathy's direction, and shared it with the others as well. "Then I am your trusting and abiding friend." After Macalrathy and the other Watchers seemed to be able to breathe again, Wulfgar added, "Until I hear you have just lied to me."

A tear formed on the giant's huge, red face. His large hands covered Brynn's and Terry's urns as his voice swam with emotion, "May the Father Omnipotent hold you safe in kindness. Rest well, sweet Brynn. Be comforted to know we lament you, fair Terry."

Then, with a great sniff, the giant lumbered down the steps of the altar to the door. Just as elusive as he had been before, he was gone. The church was still after his departure. Methos looked to Liam and Cassandra. Liam was Wulfgar's student? Brynn had been? There was certainly more to the blond Irishman than met the eye. Of course Cassandra had to be involved. If she wasn't attached at the hip to Liam, Methos would liked to have talked to him about his teacher.

~~~~~

As the urns were being placed in the back of a hearse that would take them to Mountain View Memorial Gardens for internment, Methos and Elizabeth stepped out into the sunshine, following Duncan, Amanda, and Denise. Methos hadn't been in a hurry to exit, and had kept his head low when the Watchers were walking out in case he was recognized. Not making eye contact with Watchers was a habit that had served him well since leaving the organization.

James Payson and his sister-in-law, who Methos felt was a recent addition to the immortal family, walked out solemnly to the waiting limo. Jan entered it quickly as she wiped her face with a handkerchief but James waited for Warren to join them for the ride to the graveyard. Warren hugged Duncan and clapped him on the back, putting on a brave smile. "I'll see you back at headquarters. Just give me a few days, then I'll be back in top form."

"You take as long as you want or need, Warren. Don't worry about anything," Duncan told him. "We'll keep you posted."

Methos held Warren's arm to show he felt the same way and was damn sorry for Brynn's loss. He had thought a lot about the blond, robust Irishwoman the last few days since acquiring her quickening. With Warren's rebuff at his gesture, Methos knew that Warren was still sore that her quickening hadn't gone to him. "Like it was my fault," he grunted when Warren joined James at the car.

"Everything's your fault, Danny," Amanda joked. "Are we going to the burial?"

"They wanted it to be private," Duncan said, putting his arm protectively around Amanda, as though just the act of talking to Methos was the opening he needed to take her to his bedchamber or something.

Methos chuckled and shook his head. Joe was leaving with the other Watchers, and Methos was disheartened that he wouldn't have time to catch up on Joe's life since leaving Shiloh. After being that close to death, you wanted to make sure those you cared about were doing all right. In New York, his focus had been seeing to it that Claire and Elizabeth were taken care of. Since they were both just fine, he wanted to make sure the rest of the fold was.

Liam and Cassandra exited the church and Methos could feel a chill in the ninety degree air as Cassandra looked at him. "Nice of you to make it," Elizabeth said, and Cassandra softened to hug Methos' wife. "Good to see you again. Though we have to get together when we're not kidnaped or at a funeral."

"Come to London any time," Cassandra told her, and the women, along with Amanda huddled off in a corner of the entrance.

Methos told Liam, "I didn't know you were Wulfgar's student."

Liam raised his eyebrow. "I didn't know you knew Wulfgar. He's a myth, you know."

"That's what I hear. Sounds like he's become educated."

"When in the world did you meet him?"

There wasn't any way on earth he was going to have a truthful conversation with prying ears around, so he sniffed and just said, "Before your time, I'm sure. He was your teacher, hm? We should have a beer and reminisce."

"Come to London, and I'll take you up on that. For now, I'm taking my wife home, and we're not having any adventures for a very long time."

"Sounds somewhat boring doesn't it?" Methos joked, then added, "Actually, it sounds like heaven." He stuck out his hand for Liam, who took hold of it. "To... the next time I get to London."

"We'll be looking forward to it."

"I'm sure your wife will not hold her breath."

"Hm?" Liam seemed confused and unaware of the length of time or reasons Methos knew his wife. As he thought about it, he realized that all Liam probably knew was that David Sommers, who was now calling himself Daniel Gordon, and she knew each other long ago and David saved Cassandra's life by taking Ludmilla's head a few years ago. That was fine with Methos, and he looked to Cassandra with a new gaze. She never ceased to amaze him. That she hadn't told her husband what he had done to her, if only for a sympathy roll in the hay wasn't at all what Methos expected.

"And he leaves with the wind," Methos said, referring to Wulfgar.

"It was a wonder we got hold of him this long. When he heard about Brynn, he had to come and state his case and say his goodbyes. He said something about needing to get home right after the funeral to light a pyre for her."

No words were exchanged between Methos and Cassandra after Liam had indicated it was time for them to leave. Claudia said goodbyes and had one last hug for Duncan before walking down the stairs to the rental car in the parking lot with the happy couple.

They all watched the hearse and limo take off then the limo carrying the Watchers left in the opposite direction. Methos, Elizabeth, Amy, Guy, Duncan, and Amanda were left on the steps. They looked at each other. Methos was going to suggest going to get some lunch just as Megan, Nick, and Thomas exited the church. "That was quite a ceremony, huh?" Megan mentioned.

"One like I'd never seen," Amy said. "But it was nice. I hope they're all right." Her eyes were following the hearse and limo to the street.

Megan said, "We should get back. The last time Leon was in charge of a two year old, his brother was that age."

"You promised the kids were safe with him," Methos groused.

"Oh, they're safe," Megan assured him. "I trust him with my life."

"You mentioned that, but how about trusting him with my daughter."

"I wouldn't put Claire in danger."

Duncan interjected, "Didn't we already cover this at the hotel?"

"And it doesn't get old," Nick sighed.

Thomas nudged his arm. "You're saying we're getting boring?"

"Speak for yourself," Methos glowered.

"Take a break from your ego, huh? I wasn't talking to you," Thomas retorted.

Elizabeth pulled Methos back before there was an out-right fight. There would have been, too. Ever since Methos had gotten the feeling there was more than just a casual acquaintance between his wife and the blond, Methos had wanted to pound his face in. Why Duncan hadn't felt as uneasy about Thomas and Amanda, when there obviously was an ever bigger past between them than between Elizabeth and Thomas, was beyond Methos. For now, he was pleased to leave that maudlin scenario of a funeral and get some time with his wife alone. Since they had gotten back together, they hadn't really had one moment totally alone. He made gestures that a fight with an immortal wasn't on his plans so Elizabeth would lose the anxious look on her face and pulled Guy aside.

"Can I ask a favor?" Methos asked him conspiratorially.

"You're asking me for a favor?" Guy asked as if to make sure he heard him right.

"Yes. Something, as you know, I've never done before, but you're about the only one I can trust right about now."

"Trust?" Guy chuckled. "With MacLeod here? Amy? Liz?"

"I need a favor," Methos interrupted him to say. "Could you take Claire back to the hotel with you tonight? I'd like some alone time with Liz."

"And you don't even guess that I'd like some alone time with Amy? In case you haven't noticed, I haven't even seen her before this morning since Shiloh, and before that, it was about..."

"All right, all right. I learned my lesson. I'll not ask anything from you again."

"Hold on," Guy said in good humor. "Come here. I was going to say something to the rest of them."

When Guy walked back to the others, Methos stayed still, smoldering in disappointment that when he finally put some trust in Amy's husband he was rebuked. Guy quieted the others and said to Megan and Nick loud enough for even Methos to hear, "Look, you two aren't even going together yet, so you have time. They are a couple," he said as he pointed to Duncan and Amanda, "They are a couple," He said as he pointed to Elizabeth then Methos, "And I am married to this dish right here. It's been a long time, man," he seemed to implore Nick. "We'd like some time without the kiddies for a bit."

Amanda giggled and said, "We don't have kids."

"Do you want to babysit tonight?" Duncan asked her.

"Of course not."

"Then be quiet," he suggested with a kiss on her cheek.

"You want us to babysit your kids?" Megan asked dumbfounded at Amy and Guy.

Methos stepped forward. That wasn't a half bad idea the Watcher had. They both knew how to use guns, they'd proven they were trustworthy, and there were no 'gods, it's been a long time since I've gotten you alone" ideas that had to be dealt with. He punched Guy's arm. "Good idea, mate."

"Thank you. I do have my moments."

"What about me?" Thomas asked.

"You... let's see... you can take a long walk off a short pier," Methos suggested.

"Jealousy gets the best of you, my friend," Thomas cracked.

"Jealous of what?" Elizabeth moaned. "Excellent idea. Let's go get Claire, Joey, and Katie, take them out to dinner, and then you can babysit them at your place," she said to Megan, "and we can be alone," she said as she wrapped her arms around Methos' waist.

"You really have to explain that kid to me," Methos told her in a whisper, hiking his head toward Thomas.

"It won't take long. After you tell me about all about Brynn and that giant."

Methos looked up to the clear blue sky. "On second thought, maybe we should only talk about each other."

"Deal." Elizabeth pulled him close and kissed him softly. All the tenseness he had felt in her had drained away, and for that, he was mighty pleased.

"Let's get a move on, then," Amy said in a hurry to their rental car, yanking Guy behind her.

~~~~~

Dinner consisted of cheeseburgers and fries for Claire and Joey and macaroni and cheese for Katie at the Hard Rock Cafe, while the grownups had beer, wine, and in Elizabeth's case, Diet Coke. When Methos mentioned with a smile that Claire used to love macaroni and cheese after a woman in London made it for her, Claire declared for Mac's benefit, "Maconi!"

Methos noticed Elizabeth direct a look at him which was filled with interest and confusion. He shook his head that it didn't matter, but really didn't know what she was confused about, except that Claire had developed a love of macaroni and cheese while Elizabeth was believed dead. He was sure he had told her that at some point over the past ten years. Maybe she needed her meds or something to get her mind focused on remembering silly stuff like that.

Elizabeth's demeanor had been just as Methos had wanted it to be since leaving the church. She didn't seem at all nervous and was smiling and seemingly happy. She never missed an opportunity to hold Methos' hand or put her hand on his leg. Methos wanted dinner to be over, and when he declared that it was time to hit the video store to rent movies to keep the kids company, he was amazed that Megan said, "We'll do it. Just go and have fun."

Methos, and Duncan and Guy as well, didn't have to be told twice. The men were standing and helping their wives out of their chairs before Megan or Nick could argue. After kissing the kids goodbye and warning that they should be good, they went out to the parking lot. Dusk was a beautiful sight in the Valley of the Sun. The intense heat of that February day had started to ease and the lighting was fantastic on Elizabeth's face. The magic hour. There were just a few 'see yas' before each couple retreated to a different rental and they all sped to hotels. Methos, Elizabeth, Duncan, and Amanda were staying at the Arizona Biltmore, but Guy and Amy, on Watchers expense accounts, had taken a room at the Biltmore Phoenix Inn Suites. Both Methos and Duncan offered to pay the difference for an upgrade to stay at the Biltmore itself, but Guy and Amy wouldn't have it. For the Watcher's benefit they wanted things on the straight and narrow and everything above board, with the exception of telling them who Daniel Gordon truly was, also they didn't want to take advantage of the system, plus they liked to have their kids close to them. "Besides, I'm not going to even notice the room once Amy puts on a teddy," Guy had said, to Amy's blush.

Elizabeth was almost sitting on Methos' lap, licking his ear and fondling his chest as he drove like a maniac through the streets to the hotel. "I'm so glad I have you. I could have lost you so many times..." she whispered.

"I'm here, and soon you'll have all of me. Just hold on."

She giggled. "I'm holding on, it's you I'm worried about," she mentioned as her hand roamed down his stomach, past his gut, and cupped his growing erection. "Hold on, Methos. Just a little longer. Only a few more blocks..."

Impossible. His wife hadn't come onto him or been so in her glory for too long, so the last thing he could do was wait until they got to the hotel and got upstairs before taking her. The golf course was right there, and hey they had tee off advantages with the hotel room, so Methos decided he could tee off any way he chose. Methos drove into a seduced area away from the crowded clubhouse. He didn't even turn off the car before he kissed Elizabeth and laid her back as best he could in the front seat of the Lexus. Elizabeth started giggling again with glee, then pain. "My leg.... ow! My hair!"

"All right!" Methos exclaimed. He got back behind the wheel and drove like a maniac to the hotel. A quickie wasn't what he had in mind anyway. He just wanted to hold on until they got into a more romantic surrounding. There had been no grand plan to this turn of events where they'd be absolutely alone all night. Methos was sure they could come up with ways to spend their time together. Elizabeth situated herself in the passenger seat, after smoothing her hair she turned to him and asked, "Can you drive faster?"

CONTINUED