THE ELIZABETH SERIES
CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX
POSSESSIONS
by JoLayne
RATING: PG
CHARACTERS: M, DM, A, Amy, OC's Elizabeth, Claire, Joey, Dr. Bradford
SUMMARY: When they return to New York after the funeral, Elizabeth and Methos are faced with Methos' competition with Duncan, a sword, a panic attack, a surprising offer, and a woman with authority.
DISCLAIMER: All characters and concepts you recognize from Highlander: The Series are owned by Panzer/Davis, and maybe Greg Widen. Just using them for fun, no profit is expected or pursued.
~~~~~
WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 2013
The day began like a whirlwind since Methos and Elizabeth had overslept. They were rudely awakened, still in each other's arms, by a rough pounding on the door and the incessant ringing of the doorbell of their hotel suite. Methos grumbled as he lifted his head, but then smiled when he spotted Elizabeth peeking up at him as she yawned. He kissed her quickly and then got out of bed hollering, "Hold onto your shirt!" as he looked around for his boxers.
Not finding them and refusing to go willy nilly into his dress pants, he put on the robe Elizabeth had chucked earlier that morning and slouched to the door. "If you put your fist to that door one more time," Methos warned as he yanked open the door, only to come face to face with Duncan's fist.
"Oh, sorry. You're still asleep?" Duncan asked, looking Methos over as he held his nose while allowing Amanda to walk in before entering the suite himself.
"That's what one normally does in the morning, isn't it?"
"Not when their plane is going to leave in two hours." Amanda headed to the bedroom calling, "Liz? Get a move on."
Duncan quipped, "We were waiting for you in the lobby like we planned, but what do you know? No old man and no Liz."
"What time is it?" Methos flung the door shut and rubbed his face.
"7:46," Duncan said looking at his watch. "We were going to meet... how was it you put it? You're so modest and undemanding, I forget... Oh yeah, it was 'be in the lobby at 7:30 or we're leaving without you.' That's right. We checked to see if you had in fact checked out when Amanda and I were ready and at attention by 7:25. Earlier than you demanded, but what do you know? You hadn't checked out and left those of us, who need to be drawn pictures to grasp your infinite wisdom, behind."
"Sod off, it's too early." Methos yawned and started toward the bedroom to change.
Elizabeth yelled, "Call to see that Claire's packed and ready, all right? I'm going to hurry and get dressed. Where's my other hose?"
Methos turned to go to the phone as he heard Amanda ask, "Hose? You're still wearing hose?"
"Hey, Amanda," Elizabeth responded in the other room. "Will you help me look? My other black pump, too. I can't imagine what Methos did with them."
"You know," Methos heard Amanda say as he dialed the room Claire was staying in with Nick and Megan. "This is the 21st century and they've invented a little something called pantyhose. Amazing invention actually, you don't need garter belts. Plus it makes it easier with pantyhose. Find one leg, you automatically get the other."
Methos thought garter belts got a bad rap and enjoyed the fact that his wife hadn't made the leap to pantyhose. There wasn't anything sensual about removing pantyhose or watching it being done. He heard Elizabeth reply, "Tried them, didn't like them." He thought she'd follow up with the pros of keeping with pure silk hose and garter belts and how they could be used in foreplay, but instead she said, "They chafe my thighs."
Claire answered the phone. "Dad, where are you? I got up especially early and washed my hair like mom wanted and packed and I'm all ready and everything."
Methos wondered how she knew it was him calling, he hadn't said a word yet. He adopted a French accent to ask, "Est-ce que je peux parler à Phillipe Jondour?"
After a pause, Claire said, "Dad. Not funny. Are we leaving or what?"
Methos asked in his own voice, "How did you know it was me?"
"I expected you to call or come to the door."
"Meet downstairs in the lobby. Mom and I are running a bit late." He should have pulled a different name out of the air, Jondour was the maniac who lived above them in Paris who took up tap dancing and kept Claire awake some nights when he was drunk and would decide to work on his Paddle and Roll step. It was a good thing he was a small man or Methos would have had his hands full when he barged upstairs and pounded on his door for him to knock off the racket.
Because he heard Claire chuckle, he said, "Make it snappy," and hung up.
Elizabeth and Amanda came out of the bedroom with suitcases. She looked at Methos and grimaced, "Get a move on, you kept me up too late." Elizabeth lost her testiness and almost cooed to Duncan, "Hey, good morning."
When Duncan took the suitcases from Elizabeth, Methos said, "Hold on. My clothes are in there."
"I laid out what you can wear; use my toothbrush and put it in my purse when you're through."
Duncan pouted and looked at Amanda. "How come you never let me borrow your toothbrush?"
"Because it's gross," Amanda answered. "And I don't want to get into the whole argument again about how I'll let you kiss me and put your tongue down my throat but not-."
"Stimulating conversation," Methos cut her off. "But I have to get dressed."
Elizabeth looked at him and motioned to the bedroom door. "Well, go, or do you want an audience?"
He winked at her. "Wouldn't be a bad idea."
Elizabeth just rolled her eyes and started around the suite in what he knew was her last check for things they might have forgotten as she mumbled, "Men," and shook her head.
"Hey, I'm the best man you've ever had," Methos stated. He didn't know why he said it, but more than likely it was because the Highlander was in the room.
He immediately had all three of their attentions, whether he meant to or not. Well, it's true... he thought as they looked him over. Soon, Amanda snickered. "Is there a chill in the room?"
"Why?" Methos said hotly. There wasn't any reason for conversation to come to a standstill, or for him to be laughed at on top of it.
"Close your robe and get your ass in that bedroom and get dressed," Elizabeth told him as if she was talking to Claire when she was late for school.
Methos looked down and jerked his robe around him. "It must be the company," he grumbled as he stalked to the bedroom. Sure, he had shrinkage, but it wasn't anything to laugh at. He had been nice and réchauffé just a few minutes ago. His audience should have seen it perform three times the previous evening. Amanda for sure knew just how extensive it could get. He was about to mention that to Duncan, but felt it better he held his tongue. Besides, the phone rang at that moment, and Elizabeth grabbed it. Methos glared at Duncan and shut the door of the bedroom behind him.
In the middle of the process of putting on his socks a few minutes later, Elizabeth burst into the bedroom. "You're not done yet? Claire's downstairs with Joey, Megan, and Nick. We have to go."
Methos groused, pulling his leg into the pair of jeans that were laid out for him on the bed, "I just got in here. You saw me walk into the room. How fast do you think I can get dressed?"
"I know how fast you can undress," Elizabeth said with a smile that seemed to let all the anxiety over the rush of the morning out of her system.
"I do things faster when there's something in it for me." Zipping up, Methos pulled Elizabeth into his arms and snickered with her. The remembered ecstacy of the previous night and feeling her arms around him almost made him forget the terrifying dream he had. Almost.
As he felt himself cringe and tense up, Elizabeth tickled his spine and kissed him. "Okay. Now it's serious."
Methos wouldn't have minded making Claire wait and grabbing the next plane back to New York if he could get Liz into bed one more time, for the road so to speak. Nick was armed; nothing would happen to Claire while he spent a bit more alone time with his wife. Just as he was going to lead her over to the bed, Elizabeth rubbed his smooth chest and said, "It's really serious. Don't go there."
"I'm not doing anything," Methos said with innocence.
"Like hell. You look delectable, but we have to go."
"We'll catch the next plane," he said not letting her go.
"We have to get back. I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow and want to get Claire settled and Amy and Guy will be waiting for us and-"
"Ok, ok. Stop tempting me so I can finish dressing in peace, but we have a date for this evening, woman."
"You got that right!" Elizabeth smiled and gave him one last, long kiss. "I love you, don't forget that."
There was a pounding on the bedroom door, then Duncan yelled, "Are we leaving without you?"
"They could," Methos was still keeping the offer open to her.
With a slap on his butt, she said, "No, they can't." She yelled, "We're coming," and yanked open the door. She immediately started chatting with them while Methos shrugged into the dark blue shirt she had laid out on the bed. He had never liked this shirt Elizabeth bought him in New York, because the button up neck was too stiff.
~~~~~
Duncan and Amanda were huddled together in the two seats across the aisle from Methos and Elizabeth on the plane. Once in a while Elizabeth could hear Amanda giggling and wondered what sort of slap and tickle game they were playing. Methos was deep into a book, when Elizabeth yanked her headphones off and swore she would never again waste time watching a movie that starred a current or past member of Saturday Night Live. She laid her head on Methos' shoulder and only then saw that the old, ragged red leather bound book was in some foreign language, most likely French from the few words she could pick out. Considering some of the words she was able to decipher were sang, avancer, la mort, bataille, and chevaliers, chances were the book wasn't a fairy tale. She turned the book to the front, and Methos lost his concentration and looked at her. There was no title. She looked at the spine. It was so worn, she couldn't make out the name of it or the author.
"You could have just asked me what I'm reading," Methos offered, settling the book back to a reading position.
"Where's the fun in that?"
"Did you get the information you were seeking?"
"No."
"Would you like to know what I'm reading?"
"Not particularly," she replied with a smile. "Doesn't look very good."
"Want me to read you a passage?"
Shrugging, Elizabeth said, "Sure." Laying her head back on his shoulder, she listened to his deep, perfect French accent as he whispered the passage. From the way he was telling it, it could have been very sensual, but again some of the words she understood, and it was a sure bet he was reading a battle scene. She looked at Methos, so deep into it that he was even using different voices for what she noticed were dialogue.
He stopped reading to look at her. "What?"
"I love your voice, all of them in fact. What is that story, anyway?"
"Jean Froissart: On The Hundred Years War. This is the Battle of Crecy."
"Light reading, for sure."
"I don't know why I grabbed this book," Methos muttered as he slipped it back into his backpack at his feet. When his hands were free, he put one arm over Elizabeth's shoulder and took her hand in his other. "This is more interesting."
Elizabeth snuggled up to him and pulled her feet under her on the seat. There was a period of silence that was just long enough for her to almost fall asleep contented.
Methos broke the silence with, "This doctor you see. What's his name again?"
"Simon."
"You're on a first name basis with your shrink?"
"Simon Bradford. No, I'm just almost asleep."
"You're dreaming about him?"
Elizabeth lifted her head up. "After last night, you have to ask who I might be dreaming about? Goodness, where's my real husband who has the modesty of a peacock?" She looked around with humor and laughed.
Seemingly ignoring her taunt, Methos asked, "When's your appointment with him tomorrow?"
"One. Why?"
"Would he mind if I tag along?"
Elizabeth sat straight up and gawked at him. She had been asking him to join therapy but he had always simply said no and changed the subject. That was when he wasn't reiterating that she shouldn't tell Bradford anything about him or how old he was.
"Even if he does mind, I'm going with you."
"I...," she gave a little giggle of happiness. "I'd love for you to come with me."
"Okay. We'll ask Mac and Amanda to watch Claire."
"Why do you want to come now? Is it because of your dream last night? Still worried about it?"
Elizabeth knew him well and his reaction to her question blazoned the fact that she had hit the nail on the head. "I just want to make sure we're tight and you get well. I have questions for him. Besides, if you refer to a man by his first name, I need to check him out. I've known many psychiatrists in my day and only trusted one. Sean Burns. The rest of them were quacks and know-it-alls."
At the mention of this Sean Burns person, Duncan turned his head to them. He still wore a smile from his playfulness with Amanda, but it slowly faded. "What was that about Sean?"
The way Duncan asked Methos the question, implied quite a history with this Dr. Burns. Elizabeth asked, "Who's Sean Burns?"
Amanda poked her head past Duncan to look at them and put her hand comfortingly on Duncan's arm. From the expression on her face, Elizabeth had the feeling that this Sean Burns had quite a history with the fellas.
Methos said, "He's the only shrink I ever met that wasn't a quack. Don't get riled up, MacLeod. I mentioned him in passing."
"Who's Sean Burns?" Elizabeth asked again.
Duncan, surprising Elizabeth, almost barked when he said, "Don't tell her. If she's to know, it's my story to tell, and now's not the time."
"No problem," Methos said, stretching his legs out more after nudging his backpack farther under the seat in front of him with his foot. "It was just conversation, Mac. I wasn't talking about you. In fact, you never came up until you barged into the conversation I was having with my wife."
"You know," Elizabeth commented to stop Methos from saying anymore to rile Duncan, who was clearly hot under the collar. "You two might want to get some therapy too to settle a few things."
Both men gawked at her. She explained, "Since last winter, you two have been taking any chance you can get to needle each other. That's not right. Stop it."
"Gee," Duncan dramatically rubbed his chin. "Let me see what might have happened to make me not trust him like I did before. What an idiot I was not to see through him."
To make Duncan's demeanor worse, Methos chuckled and shook his head. It looked as if Duncan might have swung out at him if he wasn't at an awkward angle and in the seat across the aisle.
"Sorry I said anything. Just cool it," Elizabeth said, feeling awful for dredging up such a sore subject in the midst of mortal ears with Claire in the row right behind them.
Methos must have had the same thought as he twisted in his seat to see Claire's row. Elizabeth glanced between the seats and saw she was watching Joey play some game on his Game Boy. Amy and Guy were in coach with Joe and Benji because they wouldn't allow either Methos or Duncan to upgrade them to first class since the Watchers' expense account would be paying for their flights. They did let Joey get the upgrade so he and Claire could sit together and as Amy had explained it, she wouldn't have to listen to how bored he was.
Claire looked forward and must have seen her father looking at her. She got up and waved 'follow me' to Joey. "Now," she told him. Together they stood by Methos with very serious faces. "Dad, we need to talk."
"Oh?"
"Joey and I decided last night that we were going to wait until we got 'home' to say this, but..." she smiled at Joey, who raised an eyebrow and nodded.
"What's up?" Methos asked, having seemingly shrugged off the barbs from Duncan.
"I'm putting my foot down, Dad. Mom." Claire glanced over to include Elizabeth. It looked as if Claire had kept something important on her mind and had just worked up the courage to get it off her chest. "I want a home. I don't want to live in a hotel anymore. I want to live near Joey and Katie. He wants a home, too. I want to go to school like he does. He goes to a good school, and I want to do that, too."
"And when we get a house," Joey added, "We're not going to move again."
Claire nodded. "Yeah. I hate all this moving."
Elizabeth looked from the kids to Methos and said, "Sounds like a good idea."
"It does?" Claire looked almost shocked, and then let out a deep exhale, as if she had been holding her breath, and smiled.
"Yeah, we're working on it, Claire. But things have kept cropping up. Skedaddle," Methos told her, "I'm busy."
Claire grimaced at him. "What are you doing?"
"Holding my wife's hand, trying to peer lovingly into her eyes."
When Methos kissed Elizabeth, Claire rolled her eyes and muttered, "You'd think they were on their honeymoon or something."
Joey says, "Let's tell my mom and dad."
"Yeah." Claire followed Joey down the aisle toward coach, but Elizabeth heard her ask, "How come your mom and dad seem to follow wherever we go?"
Methos must have heard it too and twisted in his seat to look at them. From the tightness of his body, he must be nervous thinking about what the kids may have been talking about. They were getting older and more aware of things that happen around them. Elizabeth hoped they hadn't worked out the real reason why Amy and Guy had followed Methos and Elizabeth so closely for so long besides friendship.
Joey responded, "Mom thinks of your mom as a sister and says she wants to be close to her. Why do your parents move all the time?"
They disappeared behind the curtain that separated first class and coach. Elizabeth had been satisfied with Joey's response, and quite happy that Amy had told Joey that. She also hoped that Amy had told him that because it was true and not just as a cover story. It would be wonderful to have a home and a 'normal' life without the kids coming to any conclusions about their living arrangements and disruptions.
When Methos smiled at her and took her hand, then kissed it, Elizabeth put her head back on his shoulder and said, "It's going to get harder to keep things from her. We should get a home and stay there."
Methos nodded. "And make sure nothing imposes on our life."
"Put her in school and get jobs... live, the way we always planned, and did a couple of times."
"We're still living. Claire's going to look back on these years and thank us for what we've done for her."
"Have you thought about when she turns?"
"Not once."
Judging by the quickness of his answer and his tone that said "don't go there" she knew that he must have spent a lot of time thinking about it. She had many times over the years and just hoped it was when Clair was ready for it and able to take care of herself for the rest of her long life.
"Think we should sign her up for a fencing class? Get her used to swords without any indication that it will be her life?"
"Don't speak," Methos said, settling himself further into the seat and pulling her close to him. His back was turned from Duncan as he nuzzled her shoulder and Elizabeth caught a look from Duncan just before he also turned his back on them to pay attention to Amanda.
"Where do you want to live? New York?" Elizabeth asked him after they had snuggled down together as best they could in airline seats.
"Nah, too busy. I know my best girls' doctors are there, but I don't want to live in New York. If it's not Paris, I'd just as soon live among trees."
"Go back to California?"
Methos slowly shook his head and his eyes revealed the thought process of his mind. "A wise man once said, 'Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.' Been there, done that in California. England. France. Seacouver."
"So, in other words, we live on the South Pole or someplace barren?"
"No. Someplace new. To us. Going back to old stomping grounds is easy. I want someplace new."
Elizabeth giggled. Methos asked, "What?"
"A ground you haven't stomped? Where by chance would that be if not the North or South Pole?"
"I have been to the South Pole. There's a lot more tourists there than you would think."
"When the hell was that? How? Why?"
"Well, not the true point of South Pole, but I have been to Antarctica. Let's see... around 1955 or so."
"Why?"
"Because it was there?" he said with a chuckle. "Yeah, I was out of my mind, but I did it."
"Which brings me back to my question: Where in the world haven't you already stomped?"
"Lots of places. And just because I stomped on them alone doesn't mean it wouldn't be a new experience stomping somewhere with you and Claire."
"Well, as soon as Claire gets those pins out of her arm, we can take off. As long as we're within sight of an airport so I can get back to see Dr. Bradford for appointments, I don't have to be in New York. We can be anywhere as long as we all have a pull to the place and are comfortable there. And," she added pointedly, "we all agree on the place before any of us buy property."
Methos nodded in agreement, and the look on his face made Elizabeth think he was apologizing for not clearing it with her before buying Bethany Stone Manor. "If Claire buys a 600 year old house without our say-so, we'll just have to ground her."
"Just as long as her father doesn't."
"I learned my lesson. I like my head attached to my body."
Elizabeth felt like the wind went out of her body and sat up. Soon, Methos was rubbing her back and gently bringing her back down to him. "It was my mistake. I shouldn't have bought the house."
"Why bring that up again?"
"You did first."
"Are you still thinking about that stupid dream?"
"No, but it seems you are since you just reminded me of it."
"Daniel," she whispered in case anyone was listening. "I don't want your head, and I will kill anyone who tries to take it. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes. I do. I meant I... I was talking about the manor. We were talking about houses and buying them without both of us agreeing, right? Correct me if I'm wrong. I won't do that again, and you won't either, because, face the fact, Liz, you almost..." Methos stopped and looked around the first class cabin before whispering back, "Things got out of hand. That's all I meant. I'm not accusing you of anything."
"It's a good thing you want to see Dr. Bradford. You may want to seem nonchalant about what happened, but it still horrifies me, what I almost did."
"Nonchalant is the last thing I am, luv, but I know it's in the past. As long as we steer clear of anywhere he was, we'll be fine."
By he, he meant Pyrius. Elizabeth couldn't get rid of the feeling she had that was much like being kicked in the stomach, as much as Methos seemed to try and lift her mood. She was grateful for his trying, but it wasn't working. The casual looks Duncan cast in their direction every so often had Elizabeth confused. He was still sitting with his back to them, but awfully interested in what they were saying, or he was still seemingly offended by Methos bringing up this shrink by the name of Sean Burns. She wanted to ask again who he was, but decided that silence might be best for a while.
~~~~~
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 2013
NEW YORK CITY
It seemed just a little bit strange to be sitting in the Uptown Clinic's waiting room with Methos. Elizabeth had been there four times so far and never felt as nervous as she was at the moment sipping awful coffee from a styrofoam cup. Not even on her first visit to see Dr. Stone did she feel so worried about what was to come. That first time, it was the thought of telling the psychologist enough to get help but not let slip her immortality. Now Elizabeth was nervous for many reasons. One was the thought that Methos wouldn't like Dr. Bradford and maybe demand she not see that "quack" anymore. She trusted Dr. Bradford almost as much as she trusted anyone in her immediate fold. She couldn't, of course, trust him completely. He was, after all, an immortal. Elizabeth's first 170 years had been lived with the motto of steering clear of immortals, and it wasn't until she had met Joe's friends at Amy's wedding and the whole Logan mess that she started to believe that all immortals weren't like Joshua Logan or John Dieterle.
Another reason for her uneasiness was how much Dr. Bradford would make them face. Elizabeth had told him precisely what had happened in Kent, aside from mentioning exactly who Pyrius was, exactly how old he and Methos were, and exactly when the bad blood between the men had formed. Also, if Dr. Bradford prodded too much, Methos might get riled and nothing would be accomplished.
Even though Methos and Elizabeth had gotten back together and she was sure he loved her as much as he ever did; there was still the rarely-mentioned obstacle of her almost taking his head that seemed to her to always be lying just below the surface. She really didn't know if Methos fixated on it, but Elizabeth thought about it daily.
Since Dr. Bradford also knew about the spouse swapping that occurred during Elizabeth and Methos' separation, she was scared that he would bring that topic up for discussion. From the way Methos and Duncan resorted to immaturity on the plane, Elizabeth knew there were still things to work out there. Her real feelings about Methos having had a relationship with Amanda were still unclear to her and she preferred not to think about it. Her feelings for Duncan were strong, but it wasn't passionate love, it was deep, solid friendship. Elizabeth sincerely hoped that Methos felt the same for Amanda, in which case there was nothing to think about. Elizabeth trusted her life and Claire's to Duncan. As she looked at Methos sprawled comfortably on a chair with a two year old issue of Popular Mechanics magazine, she wondered if he trusted Amanda in the same way and just what happened the night that they fell into bed together.
Shaking off the vision in her head since she didn't want to do, say, or think anything that could once again drive a wedge between her and her husband, she stiffened with the approach of an immortal. Methos suddenly dropped the magazine on the table beside his chair and sat up straight.
"It's just Bradford," Elizabeth told him in a whisper.
"I know. Where is he?"
Dr. Simon Bradford was seen through a window in the door that lead to the hallway to the clinician's offices. His vivid blue eyes peered out from under sandy hair, that had gotten longer over his eyebrows, as he talked with a young man with files in his arms. The man was the same one that had called out her number on a previous visit.
A rush of anxiety over how the appointment would turn out made it almost impossible for Elizabeth to stand up alongside Methos when Dr. Bradford, having obviously given orders to the young man, entered the waiting room with a smile and offered his hand to Methos.
"Hello, Daniel. Elizabeth. I'm Dr. Bradford," he offered politely as Methos took his hand.
The men shook hands briefly and Methos said, "Pleased to meet you."
Elizabeth hoped that was true and all would go well. Dr. Bradford pointed to the coffee cup in Methos' hand and asked, "Are you enjoying the coffee?"
Methos looked at the cup and shrugged. "I've tasted better."
Bradford smiled at the receptionist and said, "Marilyn. Another glowing review for the brown water you pass off as coffee." He told Elizabeth and Methos, "Come back to my office and we'll have a chat."
As they followed the doctor to the hallway, Methos looked at Elizabeth with what she interpreted as momentary confusion. She whispered, "He does that all the time."
Bradford spoke over his shoulder. "How people react to that wretched slop in a cup tells me how honest you'll be in session." He smiled at Methos. "Daniel, I'm pleased to see you've come with an open mind."
He opened his office door and motioned for them to sit in the two chairs opposite his desk. Elizabeth took one immediately but Methos looked around the office for a bit, his eyes focused on the leather sofa under the wall of windows that looked out over the city. "Please, have a seat, Mr. Gordon," Bradford said as he sat behind his desk and opened what Elizabeth knew was her file.
Since Methos hung by the window looking out, Bradford glanced at him once then focused on Elizabeth to go over her medications; he wanted to know if she'd had any side effects from them. Elizabeth told him that she still felt shaky at times, but was sleeping well and hadn't had any sickness from them. Bradford nodded and made some notes in her chart. "The Paxil seems to be working fine, but would you like to bump the librium up a bit?"
"Up to you."
"No, it's up to you, Elizabeth," Bradford said as he sat back in his chair and looked at her. "Are you feeling a benefit from it?"
"I'm feeling more in control."
"Not all the way yet?"
"Not really. There are times that... you know."
"That will happen. Are you taking the Ambien?"
"No. I haven't since our last appointment."
"Good. Hang onto it if you need it on certain nights, but don't rely on it. So, you're still experiencing panic?"
"Sometimes. During the funeral, sitting in the waiting room," Elizabeth said with a chuckle.
"Nervous about meeting me?" Bradford's eyes drifted again to Methos and nodded to her then looked down at the chart, pen at ready. "Going up another 10 mg with the librium should help your anxiety a bit." He was writing out two new prescriptions for her when Methos finally took a seat on the end of the couch, folded one leg over the other and stared at the doctor.
Elizabeth took the scripts and put them in her purse, then took a seat next to Methos on the couch. She was pleased when he took her hand, but a bit taken aback when Methos continued to stare at the doctor and slowly tighten the hand hold. If she wasn't mistaken, she thought Methos was quite nervous.
Bradford closed her file and walked around his desk to the chair Elizabeth had vacated. He turned it to face them and sat down, settling his elbows on his knees. "So," he said, looking back and forth between Elizabeth and Methos. "How was the funeral?"
"Good," Elizabeth shrugged. "For a funeral. It was sad."
"You said it caused anxiety for you? Come to any conclusions as to why?"
"Probably the reason for being there."
"Yeah."
Methos asked, "You know all about it then ?"
"I know only what Elizabeth has told me, and warned me about."
Methos looked at her and asked, "What did you warn him about?"
"That there were Crusaders out there and he should watch his head."
"You knew who Watchers were before she told you?"
Elizabeth wondered if he was asking to see if she had blabbed not only about the secrecy of the Watchers but maybe personal information about him to the doctor. Bradford chuckled and said, "Yes, Daniel. In fact, I live with mine. Her name is Sarah, and know what? She's pre-immortal. That's how I realized I was being followed in the first place. She was good at hiding, but I felt her."
"Have you told her about the Crusaders?" Methos asked with a furrowed brow.
"Didn't have to. From how she tells it, it's all over the network."
"I didn't know you lived with your Watcher," Elizabeth said a bit miffed that he confided that fact only when Methos was there.
"You never asked."
"I didn't either, actually," Methos said. "Why did you tell me?"
"Because, I get the feeling you're not too comfortable with me yet. I thought I'd offer something so you'd know it's fine for you to do so as well. Whatever you say in this room stays in this room, Daniel."
"It's strange overtly talking about immortals and watchers here."
"With a stranger?"
"No," Methos said. "In an office that people might overhear things in."
"This is a psychiatry office. Privacy is most important. This office has been soundproofed. I oversaw the procedure personally. As I said before, what is said in this office stays in this office. I could run a jackhammer in here and all they'd hear next door is a slight hum."
"Okay," Methos offered and looked around the room. After a bit of silence, he looked at Bradford and said, "Well?"
"Why are you here?" Bradford asked with a pleasant smile. He had his notebook on his lap as he made himself more comfortable in the chair.
"I decided to come with my wife to see if you're a quack."
Bradford laughed pleasantly so his bright, white teeth flashed. "What conclusion have you arrived at?"
"I'm not sure yet."
"How old are you?" Bradford asked with a bit of forcefulness.
If Methos was taken aback by that question, he sure didn't show it to Elizabeth. He just slowly smiled and said, "You want to know how much I weigh as well?"
Bradford returned the smile and said, "I didn't think that would fly."
"Why do you want to know?"
"Break the ice."
In Elizabeth's estimation, that question to Methos could have saved the Titanic in terms of breaking ice. Because Methos had started to squint at her doctor and she needed to get better and didn't want Methos to walk out or anything, she said, "Daniel's been having a dream."
"Oh?"
Methos glared at her. "This is about you, not me."
"I'm not a dream interpreter, but if you want to talk about it, I'll see what I can do." Bradford started scribbling on the notebook.
"No need. Tell me," Methos quickly said, even though he was scanning Bradford's many diplomas on the wall. "Where did you get your education in this field?"
"You can read, I'm sure."
"Are they real?"
"Yes," Bradford declared proudly.
"So, this is a relatively new field for you. The date on your Harvard diploma is 1998."
"That was the last time I went through the curriculum." When Methos didn't hide his confusion, Bradford continued, "Every twenty years or so I fake some school records and employment background and go back to college. I like college. It also gives me a chance to bone up on the new ideas and techniques others in my field are learning. I do the same with my law degree. Actually, I switch off. When it's time to move on from being a shrink, I go back to college to switch my career to the law and become a shyster."
With a little smile, the men looked at each other. "That was a lot of information you gave out there, but nothing that means anything to me," Methos said.
"What would you like to know?"
"How long have you been doing this?"
"Since I was a college student in 1779 at William and Mary and experienced my first death. Actually, it was about five years after that when I finished college and started my law career. I had to train, of course. After growing tired of law, I became fascinated by how people's heads work. Immortals are my speciality."
"Come to any conclusions?" Methos asked as if he really wanted to know the answer.
Elizabeth was fascinated by the questions Methos was asking, but that was the biggest surprise. From her point of view, being the oldest immortal, there probably wasn't anything about the mind that Methos hadn't experienced, let alone come to conclusions about. Then she smiled. He was acting like a young immortal. It was so brilliant how he was able to adapt to situations and portray himself as someone he wasn't so convincingly. Once again, she decided to take notes on her husband as a study of how to survive. She had changed her appearance, living arrangements, careers, and ages over the course of her 182 years, but contrary to Methos, she hadn't even started to accomplish truly changing everything. He had seen civilizations rise and fall, mentalities and customs come into vogue and then become old fashioned, vibrant cities disappear and new ones spring up that were historical to her now.
She had lost track of their conversation and didn't come out of her abstraction until she noticed they were both looking at her and dead silence was in the air. "Hm?"
"I was just telling him that your opinion of my abilities is important and I asked how you felt about your treatment thus far," Bradford said, studying her just a little more than she was, at the moment, comfortable with.
"I think you're great. I'm much better than the slobbering idiot that came in here the first time. Both you and Dr. Stone have been wonderful."
When Methos took her hand, she said, "but, the major reason I'm functioning better is that we're back together."
"That is amazing," Bradford commented, looking at Methos. "I mean, from what she told me about what happened in England, I put myself in your shoes and don't think I could have ever forgiven her. What made you take her back?"
"I love her," Methos said simply as if it explained everything.
Elizabeth's heart swelled, but Bradford kept on, "Love is one thing, losing your head to the one person you love and trust more than any other is entirely different."
"You think I'm a wimp or can't think for myself or have rose colored glasses on?" The hold Methos had on Elizabeth's hand tightened with his obvious rising anger.
"Of course not. I respect you, Daniel. It's wonderful you two found your way back to each other. I'm sincerely asking how you were able to overcome almost losing your head to her."
Elizabeth wanted to walk out and take Methos with her. She didn't like that Bradford was pointedly asking these questions, or the way he was asking them, it was like he was ready for a fight or trying to make Methos mad for some unknown reason.
Instead of continuing to respond to Bradford's questions with animosity, Methos said, "You've obviously never been in love."
After the touchè tilt of Bradford's head, Methos continued, "The reasons why are for her and me, not you. I'll only say that recently I almost lost my head and she hers to those Crusaders, and after you've been strapped to a chair with a blade at your neck through no fault of your own, you start to look at the world differently and want those you love with you. I also realized that what happened in Kent was partly my fault. I'm big enough to accept that, and I'm also smart enough not to throw away happiness because of pride. So, that said, get onto Elizabeth's treatment, or I'll take a walk."
Bradford's face let go of a smile and he nodded briefly. "I like you."
"Goodie," Methos' voice dripped with irony.
~~~~~
Elizabeth had been so sure that Methos wouldn't have wanted to talk with Dr. Bradford much longer after briefly explaining why he took his wife back, but he surprised her and stayed in Bradford's office and had contributed to the discussion of getting their lives back on track and fortifying his desire to help in Elizabeth's treatment in whatever way was needed.
As Elizabeth walked down the bustling New York City street holding Methos' hand, she couldn't have been happier. She didn't even care that some of the commuters on their lunch breaks had shoulder-bumped her on their way to or from work. It was just another thing you had to get used to when living in the big city. As her hand tightened on Methos', she wondered about where they would end up living, she accepted that the city life wasn't for them. The way Claire told it, she wanted trees, a big back yard, and to go to school again like normal kids. They could certainly afford such a place in New York or even Connecticut, but Elizabeth's roots were in the farmlands of Pennsylvania and having loved California when they lived near Reading, made her want to find someplace away from a lot of people. She knew Methos might be more comfortable away from the crowds too. He had told her that he loved cities and had lived in almost all of the ones in the world at one time or another, but that was before he had a child. Running away from the potential threat of an immortal had been nothing for him alone or with one other person, but if you had to make sure your kid was safe, it added another dimension that didn't sit well with him.
Methos stopped and stared at a billboard near a subway station. Elizabeth looked to where his eyes were pointed, and saw that the billboard was for the Metropolitan Museum of Art's special exhibition of Notable Arms and Armor Acquisitions. It was a collage of a man in an ancient suit of armor that made him look pregnant, some narrow gently curving swords, and a close up of the fabulously jeweled hilt of a sword. She knew that Methos had been the top researcher for the museum when they met during the week of Amy's wedding to Kevin Randall thirteen years before, but the way he studied the collage was more than just professional curiosity about what they might have found since he left.
"I think that's mine," he whispered to Elizabeth as he pointed at the hilt. "I lost it in a poker game about three hundred years ago."
Elizabeth was shocked that Methos would have stated such a thing in public, but looking around could see no one with any interest in them or what they might be talking about. "What kind of sword is that?"
Methos still gazed, almost lovingly at the silver sword hilt, shaped almost like an open orchid, encrusted with coral and turquoise. "A yataghan. Turkish short sword. Double blade. Guardless hilt. The balance of it was magnificent."
Elizabeth smiled. Methos seemed like a regular guy describing some new car to his buddies. He said, "It was a couple of hundred years old then. I have to see if that's the same one."
As he tightened his grip on Elizabeth's hand, he hustled through a merging crowd from the underground and made his way to Fifth Avenue. "So what if it is the same sword? You lost it fair and square."
Methos looked back at her. "I lost it, but nothing about it was fair or square. Godwin cheated, but I walked away without it. Sometimes it's best to let things go than fight for them."
That thought was too true in Elizabeth's estimation, then she mentioned, "We have to get back. Claire's with Amy and Amy said she needed to pick up some things."
"We'll go to the museum instead of out for an early dinner like we planned. We can get takeout or eat at the hotel."
"What's so important about that sword?"
"It's mine," Methos answered simply.
Elizabeth was now running to keep up with Methos as he stalked determinedly to the museum, weaving around people in his way. She tried to close her coat around her to protect herself from the winter wind that would blast them when they reached an intersection, but Methos wasn't letting up on his pace. When he got this way, she knew not to try and stop him when he was on a mission. Also, she could relate. There were cherished possessions in her life, like her soul catcher, that if she lost for good, as she had thought on many occasions, she would be devastated. There were other possessions she wished she had back. Her first sword, a Cavalry sword she had found in the fields surrounding her hometown of Gettysburg just after she was turned immortal and the battle had moved down the road leaving only dead and wounded men, shell-shocked citizens, pools of blood, shot out buildings, and oodles of trinkets that Civil War buffs collected. Elizabeth had quite a collection. Even though she had left her home and business in Gettysburg after Logan had murdered her sister-in-law, Marcy, and turned Elizabeth, she had attended many Civil War conventions and lectures, visited antique shops, and collected things that might even have been found on her back door step, only years and miles later.
As Elizabeth kept up with Methos, just barely, she thought about the emerald necklace that her first husband, Teddy, had given her on their honeymoon that had been handed down from generation to generation in his family. Her Vishnu collection that had always bolstered her spirit during trying times when she would meditate before them. A pearl ring Paulie, her husband during the seventies, had given her that had belonged to his mother. Her soulcatcher. Elizabeth's mind always returned to her soulcatcher that had belonged to her teacher when she thought about prized possessions, and she was once again filled with love and gratitude to Methos for returning it to her. That he had kept it for her meant so much more than she could ever express.
After keeping up the break-neck speed in the cold, on the packed sidewalks of New York and remembering moments of her life for so long, rushing up the steps of the museum was like the last mile to Elizabeth. Holding Methos' hand, they had squeezed through lines of people and rushed across intersections before the lights even turned green, to the promise of what the museum held. She knew that Methos wanted that sword, but she was just looking forward to the warmth. She caught her breath still shivering from the cold wondering what Methos' was going to do once he saw that sword while Methos stepped to the desk to pay for two admittance tickets and ask which area of the museum held the Arms exhibit.
Methos had a glint in his eye when he took her hand again and pointed the way. That sword really had to mean something to him, he wouldn't seem this excited just to be back on his old stomping grounds. Now that they seemed to be alone and it was quiet, she whispered, "Okay. What's with the sword?"
"If it's the same one, it has my name on it."
"Your real name?"
"Yeah. Duygu forged it for me for saving his village."
There were times like this when Methos could just flip out a sentence that left Elizabeth enthralled, wanting to know the entire story. "And how did that happen?"
"I'll tell you about it sometime," he replied with a wink and a smile.
There were many things Methos still had to tell her. She wanted to know more than anything at the moment, but knew this wasn't the time or place. "How many villages have you saved, darling?"
He paused as if to think about it, and said, "Eighteen, but of course, I'm not counting."
Suddenly she thought about how many villages he might have destroyed, including the people in them, and looked at her surroundings. The gurgle of her stomach and accelerated pounding of her heart cautioned her that her anxiety level was rising for some reason. She stopped immediately after stepping into a smaller room at the end of a grand hallway with stone block walls, dropping Methos' hand. He didn't seem to notice her sudden reluctance to go farther as he made his way to a display at the far end of the room.
Even though the room was large and a bit chilly and she knew there had to be plenty of air, Elizabeth started to pant and felt sweat trickle down her nape. She sidestepped a young couple at the doorway to stand in the corner out of the way.
The room was filled with swords, daggers, knives, lances, bayonets, machetes, and every other article of cutlery ever devised by man for battle on the walls and in display cases. There were at least ten suits of armor against the walls between battlements, and one on display in a main case in the center of the room. It was the one on the billboard for the exhibit, and to Elizabeth's mind, it made the wearer look pregnant. She had never seen one with such a wide belly, and couldn't figure out what the purpose of the design was. She didn't like it esthetically, and didn't like it because it now blocked Elizabeth's view of Methos, going from one case to the next, probably in search of that sword he insisted was his.
On uneasy feet, Elizabeth started around the pregnant suit of armor because not seeing Methos made her feel more uneasy. She reached out a shaky hand to a display case to steady herself and saw Methos in front of the sword with the turquoise and coral accented hilt from the billboard. His hands were on his hips as he studied it, then his head looked right and left, as if he was going to take the sword or something and he wanted to see if there would be witnesses. Elizabeth tried to reach him, but didn't feel she could continue moving without falling. She couldn't even make a sound to get his attention, though she was drawing stares from the other people mingling around the room. She smiled tightly at them in order to show she was fine and moved her hand from the top of the display case so a boy could read the plaque that described an instrument that she thought looked like a three pronged pitchfork that could be held comfortably in ones hand.
In order to see if she could pull herself out of the frenzy her mind had created in her body, she laid her head back and saw the wooden ceiling of the tall room. Her heart clenched and she fell to the cold, stone floor with a gasp. She saw Methos turn to see the commotion as people looked at Elizabeth or knelt down to see if she was all right. To her amazement, Methos scanned the room and then squeezed between a suit of armor and the sword wall display. When he tilted the light concentrated on the sword, she didn't know what the hell he was doing. She needed him; what was he doing? It took her a minute to realize he was peering at the back of the sword with the light shining correctly. Elizabeth felt herself grow fainter and her body was shaking with fear for some reason she couldn't place. It wasn't until she had almost passed out that she heard a voice yell, "Get out!"
At first she thought it was one of the men surrounding her that had yelled, but then panicked when she realized that the voice belonged to Pyrius. Suddenly she realized why she had gotten rattled upon walking into this room in the museum; it was because it was built much the same way as Bethany Stone Manor, she plead aloud, "No, no. Not now. Why now?"
A woman who had knelt next to her fanning her museum pamphlet on Elizabeth grimaced and got up.
Elizabeth couldn't understand how and why she would remember Pyrius' voice so strongly and dreaded hearing it again. Just before she sunk to the floor in a crying fit, she felt someone's arms around her, pulling her up. She saw Methos pull her into his lap and call to the people surrounding her, "She's fine. No problem here. We're okay."
His voice and touch kept Elizabeth from losing consciousness, but she was too weak to get up when Methos tried to lift her. She held onto him as tight as she could while she cried and shook. He rubbed her back and kissed her forehead as a security guard came up to them. "What's the problem?" he asked in a forceful tone.
Elizabeth noticed that Methos was hiding his face in her hair as he told the guard, "She's just having a panic attack. She'll be over it soon."
"Oh, that's what's wrong with her," a well-dressed woman said. "Here," she said as she reached into her large leather purse. "Take one of these."
Methos shoved her hand away, but the woman was forceful. "It's a Klonopin. It'll take the edge off."
The guard shooed the woman away, as well as the rest of the stragglers and only when he looked the other way did Methos whisper, "Liz, I have to get out of here. He could recognize me. Are you okay?"
"I think so," Elizabeth responded in a pant, but didn't know if she was at all. At least Pyrius' voice hadn't come back. That was one good thing. She was being held by Methos. That was another good thing. Dr. Stone had told her to think of the bright side of the matter when panic overcame her and those were two good things right there. She also didn't want to be a burden to Methos and was going to tell him to go and she'd come along eventually when she could find her feet, but got a jolt of adrenaline and started to get up. Methos helped her and soon she was standing. The way Methos kept looking in the other direction from the guard, she knew he had to get out of there, and was pleased with herself that she could buck up the determination to leave in order to help Methos.
"Let's go," Methos said, still holding her as they walked to the door of the room. When another wave of remembrance of Bethany Stone Manor and the weeks of confusion, depression, and overwhelming hopelessness started to sweep over her, she closed her eyes to shut it out and let Methos direct her out of the museum.
It wasn't until the cold winter air slapped her face that she opened her eyes. Methos started them down the steps and said, "I'll grab a taxi."
Elizabeth nodded as her pants were growing weaker and sat down on the top step of the museum. "I'll wait here."
Methos ran down the steps, past other people sitting on the marble steps on pads, and Elizabeth wished she had one. Her butt was freezing, but she was feeling better in the fresh air and without stone walls, a wooden ceiling, and gawking strangers surrounding her. He flagged down a cab and waved up to her to come. She got to her feet and slowly took the steps down careful not to fall. By the time she got to the cab, she was breathing evenly and told him, "I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry. Why don't you go back inside and I'll go back to the hotel? I'm so sorry. I know it's important to you."
"I saw all I needed," Methos said with a shrug of his shoulders and got them into the cab.
"Was it yours?"
"Definitely."
"Well, now you know where it is. There's stuff of mine spread out over God only knows."
"I want it back."
"What?"
Methos stared ahead, and Elizabeth could see the cabbie looking back at them with suspicion. "Later," he told her, and she was grateful that he kept on holding her.
~~~~~
When they got back to the Intercontinental Hotel, Elizabeth was feeling better but also a bit whipped. She didn't understand why just the surroundings had made her react as if she was in Bethany Stone Manor and had absolutely no control over anything as simple as bodily functions. She hadn't wanted to talk about it, but since Claire wasn't in the room with Amy and the kids, Methos asked her, "Okay, what happened?"
"Amy must have taken the kids shopping or something. She said she needed to before we left."
Methos handed her a note that he had in his hand since she had been unaware of anything after arriving in the hotel. She read it to see that Amy had taken Claire and Joey to Duncan and Amanda's because she was taking Katie to see a doctor. "A doctor. What for?"
"Probably a cold or something kids get. I meant about you at the museum. What happened?"
"I don't know," Elizabeth responded almost reflectively, but knew that wasn't true. She knew exactly what happened but didn't know if Methos wanted to hear it.
"Sure you do. Liz, we have to be straight with each other, remember? If you don't know, tell me what went on, and we'll figure it out together," he told her as he brought her to the couch and sat her down.
Instead of talking, Elizabeth gathered Methos into her arms and laid back against the puffy leather cushion on the couch. Just holding him was the best medicine she could get and she felt better with each passing minute. Even though he relaxed in her arms and kissed her shoulder, he still peered at her with questioning eyes. She finally revealed, "It felt like being back at the manor."
"I had a feeling that was the case. It was that bad in Kent?"
As soon as he said it, she realized he knew that it was for her. He still didn't know the details, but for her to raise her sword and, in his mind, burn down his house, she had to have been in terrible condition. She only hoped that he also knew it was because of the house and Pyrius, but she didn't ever want to say his name aloud again. That would give him power, and she wasn't going to give Pyrius anymore of herself ever again.
"Dr. Bradford said this might happen. Dr. Stone too. She said that with the extent of my experience, although she didn't quite know what really happened because I couldn't tell her, she said I'd have flashbacks."
Methos' eyes drifted away from her, and her heart fell. She didn't want to sound like a kook, and didn't want to upset Methos, yet she was probably accomplishing both at the same time. After what seemed like an eternal pause, Methos asked, "What did they say you should do about it?"
"Focus on the present. Block out what is making me think about the past. I looked at you. I felt you. That was what helped. Thank you."
"But, according to you, I'm the reason you were in that state to-."
"Because of you I have my sanity," Elizabeth interrupted his train of thought. "You weren't the reason for what happened. It was me and..." she dreaded saying it aloud again because of how silly it sounded, but she knew it to be true and had to say it. "Ghosts. It was the property. Not you."
Methos sat up but still held Elizabeth's hand while he thought. He finally took a deep breath and said, "I like Bradford."
Almost ecstatically, Elizabeth asked, "You do? Really?"
Methos nodded, "I can read people. I think he really wants to help you."
"He does. I feel a lot better with him on my side."
"Yeah." Methos said as if he had made a decision of some sort, and then said more forcefully, "Yes." He got up and went to the table where the phone was and shuffled through Elizabeth's purse.
"What are you doing?"
"Calling that doctor. Where's the number to the clinic?"
Elizabeth knew it by heart and told him. While Methos dialed, she went to him to ask, "Why are you calling? He doesn't need to know every time this happens. I'm feeling better. He said this would happen and told me how to deal with it."
"I want to see him again. Alone."
"You do? Why?"
"To talk about you, of course." He spoke into the phone. "Hi, this is Daniel Gordon. I know Dr. Bradford's a busy man, but if he could talk for a bit on the phone or if he has any openings this afternoon, I'd like to see him."
What Methos wanted to see Bradford about was beyond her. If this was to help her or understand what was going on with her better that didn't seem like reasons to see him alone. Did Methos think she was faking, or covering up something, or using this illness, or conspiring behind his back, or what, she was at a loss.
"Great," Methos hung up the phone to tell Elizabeth. "He has an opening in an hour. I'm going to head over there. Why don't you get Claire? We can meet at that Chinese place on 7th," he said as he looked at his watch. "Say around five-ish? We'll have an early dinner and then rent some movies tonight."
"Why can't I go with you?"
"Because that would defeat the purpose of talking about you more than we did with you in the room."
"Why do you need to talk to him? You said you knew all about psychiatry and had been one once."
"It's always nice to get a second point of view."
"You're not going to do anything, are you?"
Methos almost looked offended. "Like what?"
"I don't know. Why are you going to see my doctor?"
"I told you. Look, I don't know why it's hard for you to understand that I want to do what's best for you. I want his opinion on things, and as much as I like to think, and you love to think, I don't have all the answers. I was a mess at the museum. I don't like seeing you like that and I didn't know what to do to make it better."
Tears formed in Elizabeth's eyes, making it hard for her to see clearly. To hear him say things like that made her immediately feel on top of, and in control of, the world. As she hugged him, she told him, "You did exactly what I needed. You were there. I need to know you're there for me."
"And I need to know the extent of your illness and get some pointers," he said softly as he brushed her hair back from her face. "I can denounce anything he has to offer, but I still want to know what he thinks and what the direction of your visits are taking."
"Can I go with you?"
"No."
"Will you tell me what happens?"
Methos shrugged and smiled. "Only if you need to know," he said with a wink and a peck on the cheek. "I gotta go. Get our child, and we'll meet for a feast at five. I'm famished."
"What about that sword?"
"It's not going anywhere. The exhibit's going to run for another two months. There's time."
"For what?" Suddenly, an outrageous thought came to mind and she said in a joking manner, "You're not going to steal it, are you?"
Methos smiled again. "One never knows."
"Methos!"
"Sh..."
"It's in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, not some hole in the wall, fly by night tourist trap where shoplifting's a cinch, or even Watcher Headquarters where you got your Ivanhoe back."
"I worked at that museum, remember? I know every inch of the place and all the security measures. In fact, I proposed a few to the board myself and noticed that some of my ideas have been implemented."
Even though the thought of it almost gave her another full-blown panic attack, she was at the same time eerily fascinated. "Dubya... What did you say the guy's name was that forged it?"
As he slipped on his coat again, he pronounced, "Duygu, my dear. Duygu."
"Can I help you steal it?" Ripples of excitement at going on a caper with Methos filled her soul, but she was shot down by a slight laugh from him.
"You?" He almost laughed, but what really irritated Elizabeth was that he violently shook his head. "Don't think so."
"Why not? I'm capable." She thought immediately of the Spanish coins that she and Amanda had stolen from James. How that had turned out made her rethink the whole situation about Methos taking that sword. When Methos didn't respond, she offered, "I suppose Amanda will be the one to do it with you."
"No."
"Why not? I'll bet she's stolen from there before."
"Because I need bulk for my plan."
"You have a plan already?"
At the door, Methos had his hand on the latch and turned to give her a dimpled, winning smile with a twinkle in his eye. "The seeds of one. All I know for now is that I need MacLeod. So be nice to him."
"How nice?"
"Not as nice as you were in Paris."
He must have seen how her heart fell at what she hoped was a joke. It wasn't like him to bring up her one night stand with Duncan for any reason but to needle Duncan as of late. Methos walked to her and kissed her. "It was just a humble attempt at humor, my love," he said holding her chin and smiling. "I have to remember the quirks of the employees and do some observation, so don't mention anything to him when you see him. Don't even tell them where we were. MacLeod's going to have to be treated properly for him to agree to this."
Duncan MacLeod wasn't exactly burglar material so she saw Methos' point. It still aggravated her that she wasn't even a possibility for a partner, but then she remembered that she had crumbled like a house of cards inside the museum. Methos certainly didn't need to deal with that while stealing an antique sword.
Methos was gone without a proper goodbye so she ended up saying, "See ya later," to no one after he just waved and went on his way. He definitely had a plan, and she was shaky just thinking about it. What if they were caught and Methos and Duncan lost their heads over that sword? It wasn't even as if the sword was attractive. One of the turquoise pieces was cracked, a piece of coral was missing, and it looked like it went through one too many battles for it to be useful. Why Methos would put his neck out for something that atrocious made her feel angry as well as upset.
Before she could dwell on it further, a metallic ring got her attention. It had taken her a second to realize what it was, her cell phone in her purse, she hadn't received any calls on it for what seemed like ages, even though she kept it charged and on in case Claire called her. Elizabeth ran to her purse and got it to her ear before the fourth ring. "Hello?"
"Is this Elizabeth Gordon?"
"Yes?" She was cautious about the stranger's voice and paused.
"This is Maurice Humphrey at Columbia University, Ms. Gordon. I have your resume in my hand and would like to meet with you about a sudden, very unexpected opening on our faculty."
"You're kidding!" she blurted out, but then caught herself. "I mean, it's been so long since I sent it out." For her, it felt like it was a hundred years ago since she and Duncan had gone to Hondo for her resumes. At one time, getting settled with a job was the most important thing on her mind in order to get Claire back into her life. Now that she was, everything else had taken second place behind Methos, Claire, and getting both Claire and herself well.
"You haven't been snatched up by another offer, have you? From what I see in your resume, you're perfect for the position here."
"Which is?"
"Our current Associate Professor of History is on an extended leave, and we're also interested in finding a suitable coordinator for our Graduate and American Studies programs. I see you specialize in the Civil War, and I must be frank with you, Ms. Gordon. We need someone to fill that position quickly, as well as someone whose knowledge base encompasses American Culture and the role of women in 20th century America. Does that interest you?"
"Of course!" she blurted out.
"May I ask why you haven't taken a position elsewhere? I'm assuming you sent out more than one resume and we've had yours on file for over a month. Someone with your experience would have no problem."
"I've been out of the country and haven't actually accepted any interviews, let alone offers." She hoped that she didn't give off an uppity attitude more than Columbia U would be comfortable with, but she also didn't want this man to know that she hadn't gotten any offers and spent most of the time since sending out resumes being a victim or cowering like she was still one.
"Oh, will you be available to start teaching right away?"
"Oh yes! This is just perfect timing." Elizabeth felt around for something to sit on as her legs felt like butter and her head swam with the prospect of a satisfying, well-paid position. She fell to the edge of the couch and almost rolled off, but caught herself and could barely breath trying not to blow this phone call.
"I have a morning business meeting, but I should be free after two o'clock. How about the Tavern on the Green, say around 2:30?"
Dumbfounded by the prospect of a dream job that came out of no where, Elizabeth swam in the pounding of her heart and knew that her eyes had grown almost too wide to keep inside her head. She found her voice, but didn't want to sound too eager. She cleared her throat and said as comfortably as she could muster, "Yes, Mr. Humphrey. I could arrange my schedule tomorrow."
"I look forward to meeting you, Ms. Gordon. You seem like a wonderful fit for our college."
When she had hung up the cell, she tossed the phone in the air and whooped. Columbia University was one of the places where she had sent feelers in the 1980's when she had moved to New York City to start a new life after the one she had in Australia went south when her husband, Paulie, had been killed by Logan. The familiar feelings of career planning and interviews from the time before she had met Amy as a student in one of her classes felt good, normal, comfortable. She hadn't thought about getting a job for so long she was surprised by how much she wanted this position. Wanting to get out a piece of paper and write down all the questions about it that filled her head, as well as finding all the forged documents Hondo made for her and memorizing them as if they were her actual life, became a top priority.
Elizabeth had found her portfolio at the bottom of her largest suitcase and spread it all out on the bed when she was surprised by the hotel phone ringing. Thinking that it might be Mr. Humphrey again, she decided that he had called to take back the offer and didn't want to answer it. It was only when she realized she was being stupid, because the man wouldn't have the first clue where she was, let alone the number, that Elizabeth answered it.
Claire asked, "Mom, can you bring my aloe cream with you? My pin punctures are itchy."
Hearing her daughter zapped her from her reverie of what her prospective job would be like and she said, "Of course, anything else?"
"Nope. When are you and Dad coming to pick me up? You don't have to come right away. We're playing a board game and it's so fun. But if you're coming by the hotel, maybe you could drop the cream off for me?"
"I'll be right over. Your dad has something he needs to do, but I'll come right away." Elizabeth was putting everything back in the portfolio as she asked Claire. "Does Amy need anything?"
"I don't know. Her and Katie went somewhere."
"You and Joey are alone?"
"No, we're at Maconi's."
Elizabeth chuckled at the nickname for Duncan and remembered the note that Amy had left for her and Methos when they returned to the Intercontinental. She had to focus. The idea of the job interview had made her forget the basics of parenting. That thought started her feeling shaky again so she said, "I'll be right over," and hung up.
~~~~~
Elizabeth walked into the St. Regis Hotel to get Claire, but got a surprise in the lobby. She had forgotten all about the older woman from Social Services who had almost taken Claire away from her and Methos, but there she was, easy to spot. She wore the same long winter coat, had a long black wool scarf looped around her neck three times, and still wore her fluffy woolen mittens and she was standing at the information desk. Elizabeth didn't know what to do, not knowing if she was there to see her and check up on Claire and how they were taking care of her or if May Nash had some other business there. Elizabeth was going to bolt to the elevator, but May noticed her and turned as if she wanted to talk. There was no getting out of it. Elizabeth put a smile on her face, trying not to give the impression she was at all nervous, and strode toward her with her hand raised to shake.
"Ms. Nash. So nice to see you."
"Ms. Gordon, same here," May said after shaking Elizabeth's hand and smiling just as wide. She took off her mittens as she said, "I was just talking with the clerk over there, and it seems that you and your husband had checked out of the hotel."
"We did."
"Then," May looked Elizabeth up and down as she unloosen the scarf from around her neck. "Why are you here? I wouldn't like it if you're trying to dodge me."
"Why would I do that? I'm here to pick up Claire. Some friends were watching her while I kept my doctor appointment."
"Oh, yes. Dr. Stone, that's right. Nice to hear you're still in therapy."
"Thank you," Elizabeth said guardedly. It looked to Elizabeth as May unbuttoned her coat that she had a certain glow. A tan. "That's right. You just came back from Miami. How was it? I'll bet the weather beat the stuff we've had here."
"It did, and I had a ball. Where is your husband so I can thank him for his offer, even though I just couldn't take him up on it. I stayed with my sister, but I have to admit, we did go to the resort and had a free drink on him. A Brandy Alexander. Hit the spot. It's a beautiful resort. Maybe I' ll accept his offer some other time after I close Claire's file?"
"You're going to close it?" Elizabeth tried not to sound too desperate, but it would be great if Social Services was off their butt, even though she had temporarily forgotten about them.
"After my surprise visit, which is what today is all about. I said I would arrive unannounced at some point. I figured now was as good a time as any. Where are Claire and Mr. Gordon?"
"Claire's upstairs with friends, as I said, while I was at the doctor's, and Mr. Gordon is..." She couldn't rightly say seeing Dr. Bradford because Elizabeth had a whopping panic attack and he was probably freaked out by it, or that he might also go back to the museum for a little surveillance work to steal an ancient sword that once belonged to him back in the day. "Um, Daniel said he was going to go get a surprise for us, and then we're going to meet him for dinner."
"Oh," May replied quite happily. "I'll join you. Now tell me, why did you check out of this hotel without letting Social Services know?"
"It was spur of the moment. We also have been out of town. We had a funeral in Phoenix that we just returned from yesterday."
"I'm sorry to hear that. But, why the change in hotels? If you can afford this place, they could certainly hold the room while you were on a jaunt to Phoenix."
"Change of scenery. We're at the Intercontinental. I'm sure Daniel was going to inform Social Services, but again, we just got back from Phoenix."
May must have seen her nervousness, because after Elizabeth had instinctively folded her arms together for security, May patted her hand. "That's all right, dear. I was just asking questions for my report. No harm, no foul. It's not like you were trying to ditch me or anything."
Elizabeth giggled with her. "No, not at all. If we were, we wouldn't be very good at it, with leaving Claire here, you know."
"Certainly. Shall we pick up the child? I'd like to talk with her."
"Of course."
Elizabeth followed May to the elevator and waited after May punched the up button. "So, how is Claire doing? She was quite the sick little girl last I saw her."
"She's doing great. She's amazing. One of her pins has come out already, and she thinks it's cool."
May shook her head with a smile. "Kids. They sure can bounce back when given a loving environment."
"Yes, they can." Elizabeth was happy May took Claire's environment as loving for granted and felt a little better about this whole situation of being checked up on to prove that she was a viable parent. She feared what Methos' reaction to this unannounced visit would be, but hoped that it would all turn out for the best.
Elizabeth felt immortals as soon as she got off on the eighth floor. Hoping that the buzzes belonged to Duncan and Amanda, she walked to their room and Amanda opened the door with a "Sh!" and finger to her lips as soon as Elizabeth and May arrived. Elizabeth walked into the suite after Amanda opened the door wider without making a sound and then May followed. They didn't get far into the suite, Elizabeth could only see what must be all the furniture from the living area all crammed onto one side and a short wall blocked the entire view of the room on the other side. "What's going on?"
"I'm enjoying my favorite thing in the world," Amanda whispered, and indicated that she and May should do the same. Even though Amanda probably had no idea who May Nash was, she didn't give any indication that she cared in the least about the stranger. Amanda was standing quietly, hands folded under each upper arm, watching something in the room with a smile.
Elizabeth moved forward so she could see what she was looking at so intently. Duncan was in the middle of a kata. Only wearing shorts and had obviously been working out for quite a while from the amount of sweat covering his body, Duncan looked almost like a Roman God and that almost took Elizabeth's breath away.
"Watching him do this is your absolute favorite thing in the world?" Elizabeth whispered to her, not wanting to interrupt Duncan's train of thought for fear he would stop.
"Well... second, or maybe third, favorite."
"What's the first two?"
"Sex and chocolate, of course."
After all the whispering and taking in the sight of Duncan flexing just about every muscle in his incredible body and holding positions one would think were impossible, a loud voice erupted behind them. "What's going on? I can't see? What are you looking at?"
Continued