THE ELIZABETH SERIES
CHAPTER NINETY-ONE
THE GARAGE
by JoLayne
RATING: PG
CHARACTERS: M, DM, A, OC's Elizabeth, Claire, Celeste
SUMMARY: Things get back to normal, as Methos hatches a couple of other plans, and Duncan, Amanda, and Claire visit a weird old woman in New Orleans.
DISCLAIMER: All characters and concepts you recognize from Highlander: The Series are owned by Panzer/Davis, and maybe Greg Widen. Just using them for fun, no profit is expected or pursued.
~~~~~
FRIDAY, MARCH 22, 2013
KENT
The drive from the remains of Bethany Stone Manor was quiet, but at least Elizabeth was sitting in the front seat with Methos, of which he had been surprised. She had lapsed into silence since leaving the remains of the manor. They were both filthy from sliding down the pile of the house's charred remains, and the smell of it was now making Methos sick to his stomach. At least, that's what he decided was the cause of the upset. He didn't like how selfish he had been and not for one minute taking into consideration what going back there might have done to Elizabeth. In order to make himself feel a bit better, he had to convince himself that it was definitely the smell of his clothes that was making his stomach wring.
The rented car had been going in the direction of London, as Methos was just driving north, thinking they could get a flight back to Paris. They had to get back to the romantic, carefree, and idyllic existence they were enjoying instead of the traumatic surroundings into which he had brought them. Since Elizabeth hadn't bitten on any of his tries at small talk, he turned on the radio to break through the silence in the car. Elizabeth only looked out the passenger window, pursing her lips. There was nothing interesting on the radio, so he shut it off. After opening his window, he tried once again to get her to talk about something, anything that didn't have to do with where they were driving away from. "Chilly outside."
She asked, "What surprise is in store for me now?"
"Where do you want to go?"
"Somewhere to take a shower, wash clothes, wash all of today off of me."
Methos drove by a small Tudor style hotel and Elizabeth asked him, "You're being choosy? I don't think they have a Ritz out here."
"You want to stay at that one? Fine by me." He slowed the car and turned around.
"Interesting. You're willing to take my advice now. Quite interesting."
"Knock it off," he tossed out as he pulled into the Knight's Inn parking lot. Elizabeth stayed in the car while he checked in and when he exited it with a room key, she got out, took her bag from the back seat, and followed him to the room in the same stony silence he had become accustomed to, but didn't enjoy in the slightest.
It was quite a change to stay in a so called 'mom and pop' inn instead of a suite in a five star hotel. Methos thought he'd make the best of it. He left his bag on one of the two full-sized beds as Elizabeth disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. He thought he heard the lock click. Obviously she didn't want company. He could use a shower and it was always more pleasing and relaxing when they showered together. He could really use her sponging his back about now. He could really use sponging her back, or anything she'd allow him to do.
He heard the water run in the bathroom. As he sat on the end of the bed and picked up the TV remote, he had to keep telling himself that this was what he wanted. This was the best outcome of the trip that he could have asked for. Elizabeth didn't have Pyrius in her head; she was only angry. He could deal with that. She'd come around. At least he hoped she would. After kicking off his shoes while watching a commercial, he peeled off his reeking trenchcoat, then his clothes down to his boxers. His pants, shirt, and socks were so caked with grime that he could just chuck them all and start over, but Miriam at the front desk had assured him that if they brought their clothes to her before 5 pm she would take them home with her and launder them.
Methos pulled his Ivanhoe out of his trenchcoat and his wallet out of his pants back pocket, and then folded his clothes as best he could. They were so caked that they actually crunched. He had to itch himself all over, so he knocked on the bathroom door to ask Elizabeth to let him join her. Soon, the door opened and she came out wrapped in a towel with another towel wrapped around her hair, carrying her filthy clothes. "Sorry I took so long," she said as she walked past him.
"I thought you were going to take a bath."
"Nah, just wanted to get clean, didn't need to enjoy it."
She looked at his clothes on the bed. He told her, "Put yours with mine, and they'll wash them for us, if they get there by 5 o'clock."
She looked at the alarm clock on the stand between the beds. "Take a shower and I'll take care of it."
"Thanks," he said, smiling and going into the bathroom. It was a gesture at least. He was hoping that by the time he got clean, his wife would be in much better spirits.
Methos had lost the sensation of Elizabeth's immortal buzz while he was in the shower and when he was finished and was watching TV again, he wondered what was keeping her. He would check on her as soon as he finished seeing the sports news. They were talking about a soccer match that took place last Saturday between Liverpool and Leeds United. It must be important because that was almost a week ago and they were still talking about it. Damn, Methos thought and caught his breath as if in pain while watching the reason for the continued conversation of the match. During the game Marcus Brimley, his favorite player while living in Kent, twisted his knee and it could be a career-ender. Hearing the news was bad enough. Seeing the replay of the injury was worse. Having to see it repeated in slow motion three times, Methos was about to see where Elizabeth had gone or he'd wretch. Why did keep showing it? The man wasn't going to just heal on his own... or maybe Marcus was an immortal. One never knew. Just as a commercial came on, he felt an immortal approach and then the heard a key going into the lock. Methos opened the door for Elizabeth, with a full tray teetering on her outstretched arm.
"I think we're their only guests tonight," Elizabeth said as Methos took the tray and she pulled two cans of beer out of her sweater pockets. "When I brought the clothes down, Miriam insisted we have some of their pot roast she made for dinner."
Methos set the tray down on the table. Two plates were arranged with pot roast, mashed potatoes, gravy, buttered squash, and a buttered bun. Elizabeth ate like there was no tomorrow, and Methos had to admit the home cooked food was more than welcome after the months of restaurants and take out. After supper, however, Elizabeth wasn't very talkative. Methos was fine with this. He had offered her control of the remote, but instead she went into the bathroom. Soon, he heard the water run. Chuckling, Methos knew she wouldn't be able to make through the night without a bath after getting so grimy.
While he watched a History Channel International segment on World War II planes, he remembered that there was an air show going on in Paris that weekend. Maybe he could get Elizabeth back to Paris and they'd take it in. Just getting her out of England was good enough for him. In fact, it would be his top priority. If she was far away from where he had brought her, she might just lighten up and things could go back to normal.
Methos tried Claire's cell phone with his own, but there was no answer. He then saw he had a missed message. He called for it and soon knew the reason why she didn't answer the phone. Duncan had left a voicemail telling him that they were taking Claire to New Orleans to visit an old friend. The Highlander, probably knowing that Methos' first reaction would be to worry and wonder which old friend this was, he had quickly said, "Not like us, so don't get bent out of shape. Cells will be off, so we'll call in the morning, Big Easy time. Hope you're having fun."
Fun. It wasn't really at all what Methos was having the past day or so, but he was satisfied. There wasn't a trace of that Greek bastard in his wife's head, but there was still the matter of what the dream meant. Methos crawled into one of the two full-sized beds and flipped through the channels to see if there was something worth watching. He had the thought of joining Elizabeth for a soak and back rub, but thought the door was probably locked and if it wasn't, a back rub might be asking for too much.
It was almost an hour later that he heard the bathtub drain, and he still hadn't found anything to watch on the twenty stations and reception was lousy. He certainly wasn't used to a hotel without at least a hundred channels and movies on demand. When Elizabeth exited the bathroom in her nightgown, which wasn't the silky sexy one she had brought with but the plain flannel one she wore when she wasn't in the mood, Methos moved over in bed anyway to allow her access. He shouldn't have been surprised when she combed through her long, wet hair and then crawled into the other bed. It didn't disconcert him when she turned away from him and only muttered, "Good night."
Since there was nothing interesting on and he might as well call it a day himself, Methos turned off the TV and the light attached to the wall between their two beds and tried to find a comfortable position. Tomorrow was another day, and things could only get better between them. Optimism aside, Methos couldn't sleep and seemed to do nothing but toss and turn. The pillow was like a lump of straw. The bed, on the other hand, felt like a hard wood door with a sheet on top. He peeked up to see if Elizabeth wasn't letting the crummy bed get in her way of sleep. He hadn't heard her consistent deep breathing as she usually did while sleeping. She was still turned on her side away from him. He wondered if he would turn on the TV just for something to do other than think about what he did and how she was digesting it all.
Finally, he thought this was really ridiculous; it had to have been hours since he tried to sleep. "Liz?" he called out.
He got silence in return. Screw it, he was getting a headache just laying there. He reached for the remote on the table that bridged the chasm between the two beds. He stopped when he heard a sniff. He tried to discern in the darkness if she was crying. He didn't have to wait long to find out. Elizabeth got out of her bed and crossed the distance between them. He laid back as she lifted the bedding and slipped underneath. To his great surprise, she folded herself against him and laid her head on his shoulder.
"Don't for one minute think I've forgotten what you pulled today. I'm just cold," she said hoarsely.
"Don't for one minute think I don't love you." Methos kissed her forehead and pulled her against him, then started rubbing her arm, which was chilly. "I love you very much, today's actions notwithstanding."
"I wouldn't be here if I didn't love you." Elizabeth suddenly hiked herself up and looked at him seriously. "Do you really think I'm going to try to take your head again?"
"No. Definitely no possibility."
"Because even in the Gathering, I'll just give my head to you. I'll never take yours. When I almost did, I wasn't myself and-"
"I know that. It was just my dream, Lizzie. It scared me, and," Methos grunted and as if he had pulled great courage, stated, "I've lived so long by watching my head and I had to investigate it. You know me, I can't leave things alone if it will bother me."
She sighed and closed her eyes. Methos pulled her down to him. It felt so good that she voluntarily snuggled against him again. He continued to rub the chill away from her arms, side, and hip.
"After all the times I asked you what I could do to make up for all you've given me during this trip, are you satisfied now? Are we square?"
"Maybe I owe you. I don't know. I'm not taking score."
"Was it the same dream as before?"
"With more detail."
"I know you get these dreams, and there's a grain of truth in them but like Professor Trelawny, you always get them wrong."
"Good thing I never had to be a psychic for a profession."
Elizabeth chuckled. "You'd have starved to death, and I wouldn't have gotten that eleven million dollars when you left me. So sweet, a mill a year for each year with you. Do you want it back?"
"No. It's all yours. It's ours. Everything."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and he thought he saw a faint smile. She laid against him again and asked, "So, what was in the dream again, and I point out again that if you had told me you had this dream last night and we talked about it and you mention you'd like to go back to see what happens, I might not be so angry right now."
Ignoring the dig, he said, "I couldn't move. You were all there. I was really scared."
"Not the overall." Elizabeth hiked herself up again and said steadfastly, "I really want to know. What happened? From start to finish, tell me everything your mind made up. If we don't talk this through you'll never get peace until what you're guessing will happen happens, and then it might be too late to do anything about it."
Elizabeth got herself comfortable on her stomach and steadied her head with her hand and waited. He had her full attention, and she was talking to him, so he wanted to remember as much as possible. The antiseptic smell, which he had always hated, was the first thing he remembered. He told her that there was a bright light spotlighted on him. Now that he was remembering the dream more clearly, he could feel that the hard bed he was laying on was the cold metal table from his dream. He told her that there were people talking, but couldn't make out who it was, but they were probably behind all the darkened glass surrounding the light room.
Elizabeth interrupted to ask what kind of room it was. To Methos' best guess, it was a police station's interrogation room and told her so.
"Why would you be on a table in a police interrogation room? Why would you be interrogated anyway?"
"Should I tell you about the dream or are you going to critique every little instance?"
"Go on," she said, settling herself back to her starting position again.
"I mean, I know it sounds stupid and far-fetched, but it was real to me. We can figure out the details later."
"Go on," she repeated.
"I couldn't move from the table and then I saw Pyrius. He told me I was getting what I deserve." When he had said that, Elizabeth's shifted but stayed silent. "I called out for you to get rid of the bastard, but I couldn't find you."
"You went looking for me?"
"I tried to look around the room, but as I said, I couldn't move," Methos said testily. If she was going to keep interrupting her, he might lose the flow of how it all happened.
"Sorry. Go on."
"Well, you weren't there, but Joe walked to me. I begged him to get rid of Pyrius, but he only... I remember this very clearly. He said, 'Just lay back and take it like a man. It's important.' But he also said, while Pyrius was standing over there with an awl in his hand, that Pyrius wouldn't try to take my head."
"Yeah, I will," Elizabeth groused.
"Will you let me tell it? Or let's just forget it. That's not what I thought."
"Sure it was, or we wouldn't be right here right now."
"Stifle."
"All right. I'm sorry. I won't say another word."
"If you do, I want a million back."
Elizabeth snorted. "Like that will happen. It was a hollow gesture when I offered it back. You snooze, you lose. It's mine."
They laughed lightly for a moment as Methos was almost ecstatic that she was lightening up and really wanted to know. He gathered his memory of the dream again. "Then Joe told me I had to do something. Then MacLeod came out of nowhere and said I had to do this thing, whatever it was. Then I saw you. You looked like an angel. So beautiful. An angel with short, blond hair."
He looked to Elizabeth, who didn't say anything. Then he remembered that he demanded that she didn't. He laughed about that, and also for making some sort of sense out of a completely senseless dream. If he hadn't dreamt it three times now, he would never have remembered any of it.
"You were wearing a pink dress, probably because that night of James' party you wore pink as Angel Bancroft. You were so beautiful. Skinny and blond, but I never had been so happy to see you. Then Mac... he called me a coward for not taking James' head myself. I wanted to. I was so angry, I could have. Then there was blame talk..." Methos thought more about what happened, but his memory was getting hazy. He finally told her, "You took the blame, of whatever it was, probably of my being on that table and not being able to move, and that nothing would happen and you love me. Then Joe said that if I do this thing, you'd live. Then Pyrius said he's waiting to come back and that he was quite real... oh man..."
"What?" Elizabeth asked when Methos lapsed into silence.
Methos admitted darkly, "He told me that he'll be in my head because he can't be in yours anymore. I didn't remember that before."
Elizabeth was looking at him with a 'told you so' kind of grin. Methos felt awful. For all the rest that Pyrius had told him, he hadn't remembered that. He had to have known from the get-go that Elizabeth had integrated Pyrius, but couldn't think what the rest of the Greek's words meant. Methos ignored Elizabeth's smirk and told her, "He said that if you didn't love me so much it would have been much harder to get at me. He used you. Boy, did he."
Methos' mind flew through all the Pyrius-related messes that had happened since that dreadful day they walked into the dojo to take Duncan and Amanda to a movie. He remembered Pyrius' final words in his dream. He said aloud, "What stuck with me, as I woke up, I guess, was Pyrius wanting me to use you to 'get at' him. That I'd never rest until I find out if he's still in there." Methos tapped his finger to Elizabeth's head. "I should have woke you up right there and then, but I didn't. I just watched you sleep, and I'll admit it, my mind raced about whether or not Pyrius was still inside of you and if you love me or not. 'You'll always wonder,' he said. 'I'm just waiting to come back.' I admit it, it scared the shit out of me."
Methos shivered but was instantly warmed when Elizabeth had to have noticed it and put her arm over him and snuggled against him again. He wondered again how stupid he could have been thinking that she would cause him harm. As she positioned her head in the crook of his shoulder, he took in the jasmine scent of her hair. The aroma was enough to wash away the fear that had almost gripped him before he could let his mind come to incorrect conclusions and make idiotic plans to cause a fracture in their relationship.
Elizabeth broke the silence with, "Let's see. Pyrius. You're still thinking he's going to come up and strike you. You know, I had a thought of him not too long ago. When we went to the dojo to drop Claire off. It was exactly twelve years to the day since Pyrius shot me and took you. Did you remember that?"
Methos had to admit he hadn't given it a thought.
"Maybe you did, just didn't know it and it was in your subconscious and it went into your dream. Had you dreamt about Pyrius in that dream before?"
"No."
Elizabeth slapped him lightly on the chest. "See, you poop? If we had talked... you jerk. You might have remembered that Pyrius told you that little nugget of information that I don't have him in my head."
"Regardless," Methos huffed. "I was on a table and couldn't move."
"You just remembered when Pyrius had you."
"I didn't get a bed when he had me."
Elizabeth flinched, and said, "You know, I really don't want to talk about him anymore. I don't want to think about what he did to you, to me, to us. Any of it. He's dead. Are we agreed on that?" Methos couldn't have been more in agreement with her. "I mean," she continued. "Do you think his being in that dream meant anything more than that? If you do, we'll hash it out, but-"
"No. I don't think it does. It was probably the anniversary and I just didn't consciously know it. Maybe it was a nightmare to show me how great my life is now. Even better than it was when he took me. I've never been happier or more in love with you, Lizzie."
Elizabeth smiled and kissed him. "That's what I like to hear."
It made his heart soar that she was seemingly getting over the trauma of the day and things were shifting back into place. She asked, "What else was in that dream?" but then answered herself, "Joe and Duncan telling you that you have to do something? What could that mean?"
"I assumed it was take you to Kent."
Elizabeth replied, "That can't be it. Joe and Duncan are smarter than that." She nudged him, making them both chuckle and then held each other again.
He was going to tell her that he was sorry he had taken her here again, but she said, "On a table with me looking like Angel Bancroft with dark windows and voices and you couldn't move and Joe and Duncan say you have to do something. Anything else?"
"That's about it."
"Oh, and I was taking the blame for something. Any idea what that's about?"
"You know what I thought it was, but we're not going to talk about what happened at Bethany Stone Manor anymore, right?"
"You jerk," she said without animosity, just as a reminder that his thought of her trying to take his head was going to happen again. He couldn't have agreed more. He hoped, though, that she wouldn't keep dogging him about it.
She asked wondrously, "What did James have to do with anything?"
"No idea."
"God, you have stupid dreams."
"I agree." Methos shrugged and then asked her, "So, you've forgiven me?"
Elizabeth lifted up and looked down at him. She ran her finger against his cheek and said lovingly, "I have to. I have no choice."
"Oh?" Methos' pride started creeping across his face, which made Elizabeth giggle. She was putty in his hands and she knew it.
"I've lived with you and I've lived without you. I can't live without you again. You're stuck with me. But," she said as an lofty smile grew on Methos' face. "Today notwithstanding, I've never been happier either. I've loved you more than I did today, but you know what? I'm kind of glad today happened."
"You are? Great," Methos then frowned, as if not having the faintest idea. "Why?"
"Because with no medication I had the biggest trauma of my life, second only to not knowing where you were when I woke up in that dojo and then later thinking you had died along with everyone else when you wanted to make Methos dead to the Watchers or you leaving me in Kent..." Methos was grateful she had paused so he could let all of those instances sink in. "I didn't lose it. I was upset, but anyone would have been. I really think I've made a leap. Having you back in my life has given me strength, and I know I can handle anything as long as we're together and you love me."
Methos kissed her and wrapped his arms around her. "That will always be the case, my love."
~~~~~~
SATURDAY, MARCH 22, 2013
NEW ORLEANS
Claire was tired, but interested in where they were going. She, Amanda, and Duncan had left on an airplane with the only word about where they were going was New Orleans, and during the flight, Amanda told her all about the 'batty old lovable witch' they were going to visit on her birthday. Even though the woman's birthday was almost a month ago, Amanda had claimed that 'better late than never' was a good motto to live by. Amanda had told Claire and Duncan that Celeste lived in a huge old house that might be haunted, but with what Celeste claimed was 'good spirits,' so don't get worried about it. Claire had been mortified to hear this, having been in one house that was haunted and it tore her family apart. Amanda had patted her hand and said, "I'll never let anything happen to you, honey. I've stayed in that house at least fifty times and never saw or heard anything paranormal. Celeste is going to scare you. It's her thing. Just go with it and know that everything is perfectly safe. I would never again bring you knowingly into danger."
It was after midnight when Duncan drove the rented silver Lexus up to a gate attached to a very old stone wall. Amanda told him to ring the bell, and Claire stretched from the back seat to see Duncan push a round button attached to a speaker. A distant bell was heard emanating from the direction of where the house would be. Claire couldn't see anything through the gate, as it was dark and no lights were on, but she had the definite feeling it was creepy in there.
Duncan rang again. Soon, a gruff, tired sounding voice was heard, "What in the Sam hell do you want? Don't you know I need my beauty sleep?"
Amanda laughed and stretched over Duncan to yell at the speaker. "It's me, Mandy. Open the gate."
"What the..." Claire heard, then the gate opened by itself.
It was spooky in the back seat as Duncan drove the Lexus through the ivy entwined gates and up a long, circular driveway that cut through a throng of trees to a huge four story house covered with more ivy from foundation to roof. Claire could see more smaller houses inside the gates, but they were all dark. Lights went on inside the main house on the third floor, and slowly more lights turned on as Claire assumed this Celeste woman was making her way downstairs. As Duncan parked on the horseshoe of the driveway, the light by the front door came on and the door opened. Amanda smiled and told Claire and Duncan, "Oh! She looks great! Come on," then jumped from the car and ran to the old woman inside the house.
Duncan told Claire to leave her backpack and held the back door open for her, so Claire got out and walked with Duncan to Amanda and Celeste just as they were breaking out of their hug.
"Oh, now I'm awake," the woman said joyously as she took in Amanda. Amanda was a good six inches taller than the gray haired, wrinkled woman, and was still in a stoop as they looked each other over. "It's a wonder what a hug from an old friend will do."
"I'm not that old," Amanda said in more than a teasing way to the woman.
Celeste looked to Duncan and Claire, coming up the stone steps and into the light. Celeste put her hand to her heart and declared, "You get better lookin' every time I see you, you Highland hunk, you. Come here. Sprinkle Celeste some sugar."
Duncan chuckled as he carefully hugged Celeste, almost having to bend in half to do so, and said, "Happy belated birthday, you old dame."
Amanda put her hands on Claire's shoulders and guided her into the house. A stairway was wrapped around the huge circular foyer, and Claire's shoes tapped with each step on the marble floor. "Wow," was all Claire could utter. Claire had lived in a large house before, but Bethany Stone Manor was old and never lost its empty feeling. This house was just as large, but certainly lived in, with a beautiful flower arrangement you'd only see at funerals on a round wood table in the middle of the foyer. There was a lot of gold everywhere that Claire could see as she looked into rooms that lead off the foyer.
Amanda said, "This is our friend's daughter, Claire, who's staying with us while her parents are on kind of a second honeymoon."
"Nice to meet you, Claire," Celeste said, holding out her hands.
Claire was going to shake them, but Celeste took them in her hand and turned her hand palm up and studied it for a silent moment. "You're good and strong," Celeste declared.
When she got her hand back, Claire said, "Thanks," not knowing how to take the woman or her greeting.
"Want something to drink?"Celeste offered with the smile of a hostess.
"I'd like some cappuccino," Amanda said, as she helped Claire with getting her coat off, as she had to be careful with the pins in her shoulder.
"Starbucks is down the block, sweetie. How about some good old fashioned coffee? I'll rouse Johns to get his ass in gear."
"Oh, don't bother him if he's retired for the evening," Amanda said.
"No. We're fine," Duncan added with a smile, "Although I do know you have some brandy that needs some sipping. Still in the study?"
"Of course. Be a dear and pour me one, too." Celeste lost her smile and gasped, almost in horror, as she took in Claire sans coat and wearing her sleeveless blouse. "Hell fire, girl, who turned you into a voodoo doll?"
Duncan said, "She broke her arm, and those pins are in place of a cast."
Claire itched around one of them and said, "I hate 'em. Wish they'd come out."
Celeste waddled to her in her pink fuzzy slippers and took hold of her arm. She closed her eyes as Claire looked to Amanda and saw that Duncan had gone into the next room, probably that study where the brandy was. She felt weird with Celeste holding her arm, and running her hand up from the elbow almost to the pins. She said, "There's no pain, is there?"
Claire replied, "No. Feels fine. Just itchy."
"Good strong bones," Celeste intoned, caressing Claire's shoulder. As Claire looked to Amanda for some sort of help, she realized that Celeste had pulled out one of her pins from her arm.
Amanda gasped and pulled Claire's arm from Celeste. "Don't do that."
"There was no need for it," Celeste said, giving the pin to Claire.
Claire said, "Wow, thanks. It was getting loose on the plane."
"Does it hurt?" Amanda asked, rubbing Claire's shoulder.
"No." Claire asked Celeste, "Can you take out the other one?"
Celeste shook her head. "Feels like it's not ready yet, child. Soon, but not quite yet. Come. Let us drink brandy, and you," she lightly took Claire's arm and started to the study. "How about some Kool-Aid?"
"Grape?"
"That can certainly be conjured," Celeste said with a wink.
That remark, plus Amanda having called Celeste a witch, made Claire watch Celeste hang onto Amanda for support as they made their way into a room to the left of the foyer. Claire rubbed her arm where the pin had been taken out so cleanly as she followed them.
~~~~~
MONDAY, MARCH 24, 2013
PARIS
Being back in Paris, and neither of them bringing up Methos' excursion, made Methos and Elizabeth get back to enjoying life, the city, and each other. They spent the weekend and most of Monday in the suite, and Elizabeth wanted yet another bath where Methos would wash her back, hair, and anything else he cared to, but he told her there was always later. He wanted to bring her to the storage garage to show her what he had kept after cleaning out his life and making sure the Watchers believed Methos was headless.
She had to ask about the bag. Methos had a somewhat large black bag that seemed only a fourth full that he slung over his shoulder when they left the room together. She didn't know where it came from and hadn't ever seen it before, and Methos didn't clue her into its contents or its purpose. Because he had done so much to make the last few days almost the happiest of her life, Elizabeth sighed and let it rest, figuring she'd find out eventually. "Am I going to like what I see in the garage?" she asked as they made their way down to the lobby.
Methos asked the doorman for a taxi, then winked at her. "I really think you will."
When Elizabeth scooted across the taxi's back seat to allow Methos entrance, she asked, "As much as the necklace at the catacombs?"
"More," Methos was confident.
"More?! That necklace is probably priceless. What the hell do you have locked in a storage garage in Paris? Half the gold in Fort Knox?"
Methos shushed her, and motioned to the taxi driver's eyes looking at them in the rear view mirror. He whispered, "The things I've collected and saved are more important to me than all the gold in the world."
Needless to say, Elizabeth had high expectations when they arrived at the garage and was pleasantly satisfied that Methos hadn't told her anything more about the collection, not even a hint. She wanted to be surprised, and was certain it would be a better surprise than the destination that Thomas had brought them. When the taxi pulled up to a gate and high brick walls, the glimmer of adrenaline flushed Elizabeth, who couldn't wait to see what Methos had stashed. Because there wasn't anyone at the gate and it was getting late in the day, Elizabeth was disappointed momentarily to think they'd have to turn around and come back in the morning.
Once again, underestimated her husband. Methos took her hand after seeing off the taxi and walked away from the gate, along the high old brick wall, turned the corner, to a small walkway undercover of trees. Methos stopped and dropped the black bag on the ground and took a small flashlight out of his pocket.
Elizabeth only saw a vacant lot on the other side of the trees, and from the darkness of the night sky, she couldn't think there was anyone within five miles of this place. He handed her a small silver box, about the size of a cigarette case, as he pulled a switchblade and ring of keys from the bag, then zipped it up and slung it back over his shoulder.
Before she could ask, or even try to open, the silver case, he told her, "The reason I chose this garage was its meticulous security. Also, knowing the security of the place, I know how to get around it."
"We're breaking in?" Elizabeth asked incredulously. "Why?" She almost laughed. "You have a garage here, right? We're not stealing anything, are we?"
Methos shrugged. "Never know." He stooped over with his hands together, as if he wanted to give her a leg up.
"Methos!" Elizabeth breathed utterly shocked. "We're going to do what exactly?"
Methos sighed and stood up. "I'll fill you in later, all right?"
"That would be nice."
"We're going to my garage, our garage. Of course, everything I have is yours."
Methos had the habit of late to make sure he included her in all of his life. Elizabeth appreciated it, but by now it was running a little thick.
"And after I show you the mother lode of our life together, we might accidently come to another garage and..." He flipped the switchblade in his hand. "The door might accidently come open."
"Whose garage?"
"You really need to know that?"
"It would be nice." Suddenly, panic overtook her heart. After having solitude and relaxation, the last thing she wanted was inviting trouble of any kind. She found her voice to ask, "Not another Pyrius or James or..."
"No." Methos chuckled. "Even on his darkest day, he couldn't live up to that evil."
"Who's garage unit, my love?"
"MacLeod's."
"What?!"
"He has something I'm interested in," Methos admitted, but Elizabeth didn't think he was being very honest.
"Like what?"
Methos grunted. "Let's just play it by ear, okay?"
He hunched over to give her a leg up again and said, "When you climb to the top, just stay there until I get up there."
Looking up the at least eight foot brick wall, she sputtered, "On your best day, you wouldn't be able to get me high enough to climb up there."
"You don't want to use the bricks as foot holds?"
"Like that coked-out kid when we first arrived? Um. No. I don't. Immortal or not, I don't like pain when I fall."
Methos stood up and smirked at her. "You really are a kill joy this evening."
"I'm sorry, sweetie, but I didn't think robbery and scaling walls were part of your plan. Sue me."
"Good thing I come prepared."
Methos reached into his bag again and took out a long piece of coiled up rope, with a grappling hook tied to it. He moved Elizabeth back and swung it up expertly, and the hook grabbed onto the thick stones lining to top of the wall. "Where on earth did you get that? All of that? What all is in there?"
"I really wore you out last night, huh?" he said cockily.
He had, and Elizabeth felt herself blush. It was glorious that he could still make her blush.
Methos said, "I got up early this morning and went to my flat. You didn't even miss me..." He seemed to pout and shook his head. "I was wondering why you didn't give me the third degree about where I was, but you were still sleeping when I got back."
"Must have been the three bottles of wine. I'd love to have your alcohol tolerance."
"In time, you will. I'm sure it's gotten stronger over the years."
"Well, I'm sure I'll never get to live all the years you have."
"Live. Grow stronger. Fight another day."
"Hm?"
Methos chuckled. "It was something I told MacLeod many years ago. No idea why I just thought of it.
"Maybe because you're going to steal from Duncan."
"Not steal. Just... well, we'll see if we have time to infiltrate MacLeod's fortress." Methos pulled on the rope and decided it sturdy, handing it to her.
The climb up was easy the first few feet as Methos had lifted her up and gave her his shoulder as a ledge, but the last few feet took all the strength she had. Not wanting to get vertigo, she didn't look down as she flopped her leg over the wall and got settled, straddling the top.
Even with the backpack on his shoulder, it took Methos seconds to scale the wall and sit facing her. He disengaged the hook and repositioned it so that it the rope would drape the inner side of the wall, then adeptly climbed back down. "Stay up there a moment," he said at the bottom as he stooped to get some contraption out of the black bag. He turned it on and a red light, wider than a laser, emitted from it with a slight hum. As he pointed the light over the ground, green perpendicular lights were revealed. Elizabeth saw that there was a grid of green, like a patchwork quilt laying over the entire facility, starting three feet in from the wall.
Methos turned off the red beam and then motioned for her to climb down as he again fumbled through the bag. Elizabeth had rope burns on her hands as she slid down the rope. From having seen where the green lights started, she kept close to the wall and waited for Methos to put things in his trenchcoat pockets, stand, and sling the bag back over his shoulder. He smiled as he pointed the red beam across the ground in front of them again. "Kind of fun, isn't it?"
"It's not like we'll get in trouble if we're found in here. You just have to show them your key and the cops will go away."
"Predictable danger. My favorite kind." Methos nudged her. "Admit it. The blood's pumping a bit faster, isn't it?"
Elizabeth snickered to be on a "heist" with Methos, after having been disappointed that he had chosen Amanda to get his sword back. It was fine with her that there wasn't any danger, and she decided to get into the performance with him, but teased, "There are better ways to get my blood pumping."
"I'll take care of that later at the hotel."
Elizabeth's heart was pounding a bit faster and was getting an adrenaline kick, but figured it wasn't due to being caught but what was in store for her at the hotel and in that garage Methos thought was more valuable than gold.
Methos said, "Step as high as your knees and stay within the grid," as he pointed at the green light grid that she now saw hovered about a foot off the ground when flashed with his red light.
"Maybe if I do well here, you'll take me on your next real caper."
"You expect me to have a caper?" He snorted. "You're the one with the capers. Remember some Spanish coins?"
"All I remember was your Ivanhoe, and you chose Amanda as your partner in crime."
"Sorry, love, but it was very important and I didn't know how you'd fair. When something's as important as that, you go with the master. Or mistress. Or 'Queen of the Take,' as Amanda loves to think of herself, and she's quite on the mark with that claim," Methos had to admit.
"Think she's really going to change? Duncan's certainly hoping she'll put her "royal" ways to rest."
"MacLeod's a boy scout. If he needs to get something, he'll not have to look farther than his wife to get it, and that time will come. I assure you."
"Because of what we're going to take tonight?"
"It's bound to." Methos laughed and then pointed the way. "We're heading for that line of garages."
"Is that ours or Duncan's?"
"Both. Go."
Elizabeth lifted her leg and carefully stepped over the first line of the grid. "You think Duncan hadn't been in your garage?"
"It takes more than a simple key to get into my garage."
Elizabeth laughed with him as they stepped over each grid line toward the third line of garages that Methos had pointed out. She was careful to let the red light shine before taking a step and also making sure that she stepped as high as her knees, as the grid was perfectly horizontal, but that ground wasn't. "What the hell do they have stored here with this protection?"
"This is only one part of the protection."
"What else is there?"
"Hold up when you get to the end of the garages. I have to take care of the security camera."
When she reached where he wanted her to halt, she obeyed and let him pass her in the grid and held the bag as he shuffled through it and brought out a can of spray paint.
Chuckling, she asked, "No high tech zapping apparatus to take out the frequency thingamabobs that make the camera run?"
"Why? This is much easier." He looked around the corner and said, "Stay here."
He left her holding the bag. Methos walked close to the back of the second row of garages as he seemed to be careful not to let the security camera even see the red light he shone just at his feet before taking another high step over a green one. Elizabeth held back and couldn't see Methos after a ways, but heard the pffst of the spray can blow and then saw the red light shine toward her. "All clear," Methos spoke softly, but loud enough for her to hear him.
With each garage there was a large garage door you could drive a pickup through, as well as a walk in door. At the fifth garage door from the end, Methos stopped and motioned for her to come to him with the bag. She held the bag as he fumbled through it again and took a small metal box with a couple of wires sticking out one end with little clamps on the tips of them out and put it in his pocket. He reached into another pocket to get a keycard out and swiped it on the scanner on the door. A green light shone. Thinking it would be enough to get inside, she moved toward the handle of the walk in door. Methos held back her hand. "Just a minute. I said, if you remember, that it takes more than a key to get into my garage, didn't I?"
"Yes."
"This is why I didn't bring you with to get my Ivanhoe."
"I understand that now."
Elizabeth was a bit embarrassed for her lapse, but took a bit of pride knowing that even if she was a bit different from mortals, she still was at a loss and out of her element stealing. Methos opened a very small opening that Elizabeth hadn't noticed. Inside it was a small oval button. Methos put his thumb on it and waited. Another green light shone.
Methos opened the door with a smile. "Voila." Then he reached inside the darkness of the garage and found the light switch, which he flipped on and Elizabeth saw lots of cardboard boxes and wooden crates.
After they stepped inside, he closed the door. Elizabeth saw the hood of a car behind a stack of boxes, and saw that it was red and low. "The Bizzarrini!" she declared.
"Couldn't let my favorite car go." Methos sighed and shook his head. "Love that car."
"How long has it been since you drove it?"
"Last November. I should get the oil changed."
They looked at the mound of boxes and crates, none of them marked, and Elizabeth felt overwhelmed. "Where should we start?"
"Anywhere you want," Methos said shrugging. "I have a feeling that every box holds something you'll find interesting."
Elizabeth decided to start where was most convenient, and couldn't wait to get into the stuff. She got down on her knees to open the cardboard TV box that was stacked at waist high in front of her. Inside was ribbons of many different colors, which she could almost smell Claire on. She shifted them aside and saw a stack of drawing pads. Taking one out, Elizabeth flipped the cover to see a watercolor rendition of a city street. Methos asked, "Recognize it?"
"Um. No..." Elizabeth tried to make out something distinctive in the painting to figure out what sort of buildings they were.
Methos said, "Must be because you weren't in the best of moods when you were there, but that was Claire's view from her window of the flat uptown."
Then Elizabeth picked out a long black splotch that ran the length of the right side of the street. "Oh, yeah. That's the wrought iron fence across the street."
"She got a lot better after a while. Keep looking."
Elizabeth took pleasure in looking at the various pencil sketches, fingerpaint, charcoal, and crayon drawings in the book and sat on another box as she flipped through it. Methos told her, "I'll be right back."
Claire definitely got better as she went along. About half way through the third book was a spotted dog sketched with pencil. Claire had taken time to put short hair on it. She flipped through some more pages, and felt her heart constrict when she saw a charcoal of a mother with long dark hair and a daughter who looked much the same holding hands with hearts in the air around them. She must have drawn that after she and Methos broke up, and Claire had still kept her mom in her heart. Wanting to see more, Elizabeth quickly rushed through the rest of the box, thinking she would definitely take those books with her so she could got through them properly later. She set that box on the ground and moved to the one that was just underneath it.
What was in that box amazed her. There were some small framed photographs that were old, of people she didn't recognize at first. It was only when she had taken the bulk of them out of the box to squint at, trying to place them, that she realized they were a collection she had of Civil War era pictures she had bought at various auctions over the years a long, long time ago. There were more Civil War memorabilia in the box, with the silver chess set she had bought that had likenesses of Lee and Grant as opposing kings. She suddenly remembered the coffee table in her living room in Atlanta that it sat on for back in the 1980's. In another box, still in plastic, was the Civil War Union uniform she had purchased only because Victor had liked it and it actually fit him. After he had only tried it on once, it had remained in plastic in her various closets ever since.
It came to Elizabeth that these were things she had in her apartment in New York City when she left with Methos to Sintra. Amy was supposed to have sold all of this stuff and taken the money to reimburse her for paying rent on a garage after selling the apartment for her when Elizabeth was getting strapped for cash. Because she had assumed Amy had actually sold her things, she never asked her for them when she returned to New York City after finding out Methos' real name and leaving him in Sintra. In another box were things she had displayed in her apartment when she had met Methos, namely her Indian mystic phase of her life after kicking Eliot out. The statue of Vishnu, the preserver god of the Trinity, with its four hands of a conch shell, discus, lotus, and mace almost made Elizabeth cry. She had lived thirteen years, "died," and lived in two continents and one ocean since then. The thought that she had lived more since meeting and falling in love with Methos than she had in her previous 169 years was overwhelming. She sat down and cried as she lifted the pink taffeta of her ruined maid of honor dress from Amy's wedding to Kevin from the box. Elizabeth couldn't believe that Amy had kept it for her, as Methos had trashed the many buttons on their first night together, but it might have had sentimental value for Amy.
Jumping when she heard the garage door lift again, she saw Methos come back in and shut the door behind him. He smiled and put his hands in his pockets. "What do you think so far?"
"I have the best friend in the world. I can't believe she kept these things."
Methos sat down next to her and said, "Amy wanted to pay back the money I lent her after Kevin died, but I told her to keep it. She told me after I thought you were dead that she'd kept up the rental of that garage in the city and using that money for it. She only told me where the garage was, and I didn't really think about what was all here."
"And you kept it all when you sold everything?"
"Sure. It's yours."
"Why didn't you ever tell me? When I wasn't dead, when we were together, at any time since then. Why not?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't think. It wasn't mine, so... you know. I just knew I had it." Methos tapped his finger to his head. "It was in the vault," he said with a sturdy smile. "I actually looked at the stuff after we..." Methos paused but then charged on. "Had that argument and you left with MacLeod. There's some pretty good stuff here."
"Yeah."
"You've only seen like a fourth of it. There were about ten boxes that's all your things."
"I can't wait until we get a house and I get this stuff unpacked." She saw the maid of honor dress and chuckled. "Well, maybe not all of it."
"Yeah, I've always wanted pictures of people I never met and uniforms of long ago wars in my living room. There's some cavalry swords in that wood box over there." Methos pointed to a long, narrow box leaning against a far corner she had to move and look between stacks to see.
"Well, you know what I mean."
"Have you looked over there yet?" Methos pointed at the stack of boxes behind where she had started, which were in front of the car.
"Not yet. What's over there?"
"What I think is the best part of the collection."
Methos got up and pulled down the top box from a stack and put it on the floor. "Maybe we can take this one with us and go through at the hotel. I had a lot of time on my hands, so got a guy to put a bunch of photos on DVD for me."
He opened the box and reached in and pulled out a portable DVD player and handed it to her. "I'll bet the battery's as dead as Confucius, but look at these."
Elizabeth walked over to him and peeked into the box to see it full of labeled DVD's. They had titles like Claire's first birthday, First Honeymoon, Venice, Claire Elizabeth, Norton Place. He must have taken each and every picture they had ever taken in their life together and were all cataloged in that box. As she was shifting through that box, Methos pulled down another one. There were VHS videotapes in there, which Methos said, "These are home movies I took of Claire while you were with James. Care to see them again?"
Elizabeth had seen them once, but had lost track of them. She remembered that Claire seemed to change almost every day in those videos, discovering or being able to do something new every day. When tears slipped down her cheeks just by holding them, Methos said, "For an immortal, you sure know how to lose track of things."
"How could I keep a good inventory when we're moving all the time?"
"You sound like a certain ten year old."
"And that's a bad thing?"
"Not at all." Methos smiled and put his arm around her.
Inside the box of tapes, she saw some little black plastic undeveloped film canisters. "What are these?"
"I don't know. I think they're what you shot in Sintra, or when you went on that trip in the Mustang, or some dinner party a camera was used but they were never developed."
"This is like "This Is Your Life"."
"It's a part of it."
"I can't believe it. Amy didn't need to call attention to what she did out of friendship, or sisterhood. I'd do anything for her. Anything. I love her so much. We have to live close to her," Elizabeth pleaded to Methos. "We have to have our kids grow up together."
"We will. And Joe will be nearby. I'll make sure of it."
Elizabeth kissed Methos and caressed his cheek. "What do you have in here that's yours?" She gasped through tears after seeing so much of what had been hers.
"The other hundred or so boxes in here."
"Considering the years you've lived... like fifty times longer than I have, and only a hundred boxes? Or are there more storage garages around the world?"
"This is it. Remember when I cleaned out my life? I cleaned. I only kept the important stuff."
"You'll show them to me and tell me stories about what they are, right?"
Methos put his arm around her again and held her close. "When we have our own place and these things can get unpacked, I'll take great pleasure in boring you with all the gory details of where everything came from."
"I can't wait. It will be utopia. You think we'll feel as safe and settled as we did at Norton Place and Reading?"
"More so. I'm going to get us settled firmly on Holy Ground and make sure no one but Amy and Joe know where we are."
"How about Claire? You think we should let her in on it?" Elizabeth chuckled.
Methos shrugged. "Maybe. As much as I get a kick out of that kid, I've enjoyed not being anything but a lover the past week. I could get used to it." Methos picked up Elizabeth as she giggled and set her down on the dusty top of a bureau and leaned over her as she reclined.
"Methos! This is filthy."
"Making love doesn't have to be, but if you insist." Methos gave her a sly raise of his eyebrow while getting his hand roamed under her sweater.
As his hand had a firm grip on the matter, Elizabeth wrapped her arms and legs around him and moaned, "The dirtier the better, big guy."
~~~~~
TUESDAY, MARCH 25, 2013
NEW ORLEANS
Claire watched Amanda and Celeste through the high and wide doorway to the parlor inspecting a tapestry on the wall. The mansion was huge and filled with all sorts of interesting trinkets, paintings, tapestries, antique furniture, and even a room filled with dolls and houses for them to be played in from a lot of time periods. Even the house itself was a surprise around almost every corner held built-in shelving, nooks, or furniture. The biggest surprise to Claire was that it had once been a church. Granted, she hadn't been in many, but this building didn't look anything at all from the churches she had seen. For one, this building looked lived in, not a place to just visit. As she glanced around the room she had already frequented, her attention was grabbed by a statuette of two girls and a bird that she just realized was a clock and wondered what would happen on the hour.
Claire curled up on the end of the cranberry velvet divan in the "telephone room," which looked just as grand as the foyer, parlor, and just about every other room of the house. Using the old antique phone with a dial instead of buttons, Claire told her father, "She's a bit creepy, but nice."
"Creepy?" Methos chuckled over the phone. "She's got stories. You'd better listen to them."
"I do like her, Dad. I listen to her. How do you know her, Dad? Aunt Amanda and Celeste won't say."
"I've been around and met people before. I did have a life before you, you know."
Claire laughed. "Couldn't have been much of one."
"You'll never know the half of it, Half Pint."
Claire heard the front door open and craned her neck to expect Duncan to enter. Duncan walked in and set a bag of groceries on the round table in the foyer that held a humongous bouquet that Celeste insisted was fresh daily. When she said hi to him, Duncan noted the cell phone at her ear and asked, "Are you talking to your mom and dad?"
"Yeah."
"Great," Duncan said with a smile and sat next to Claire, where they shared the receiver between them.
"Yeah, what?" Claire heard her father ask.
"Talking to Mac, Dad."
"It's Mac now? You're not calling him Maconi anymore?"
Claire giggled, as Duncan gave Claire an evil look. "It cost me a ruddy fortune for her to stop."
"MacLeod?" Her dad asked, kind of confused.
"We're sharing the phone, Dad. He bought me a new computer game."
"I hope it was at least educational."
Duncan asked, "Are you and Liz still in Paris?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Are you still going to be there on the Thursday?"
"Probably. Why?"
"I'm coming to Paris to clean out the barge. You can pick me up at the airport." Digging a plane ticket and itinerary out of his coat pocket, he told Methos, "I'll be on Flight 656 that lands around six your time."
"Morning or night?"
"Bye, Dad," Claire said. "Kiss Mom for me."
"Going somewhere?" Methos asked when she was already across the room inspecting the clock.
Duncan said, "PM, Daniel. I wouldn't dream of waking you up."
"How thoughtful. I'd love to be your chauffeur, Highlander. Could think of nothing better to do."
"Don't be snippy. I'm not going to horn in on your fun. I just need a lift."
"Oh, not snippy at all. I mean it. I've missed you. Can't wait to see you. Will be there with bells on."
Duncan frowned. "What's up?" he asked guardedly.
"What do you mean?"
"You're being nice."
"I've had a marvelous time with my wife. Got something against that?"
Duncan chuckled. "Not at all. Continue, but don't forget to be at Orly at six on Thursday."
"Your wish is my command, Mr. MacLeod, in fact-"
"Catch ya later, Danny Boy," Duncan needled and then hung up. He told Claire when she turned to him, "He's planning something, I just know it."
"A party?"
"I doubt it."
"He's back!" an old voice boomed from the parlor. Claire turned to see short and shriveled Celeste make her way into the room with her arms wide. "It got awfully dull without your beautiful face to gawk at, Mister." Even though she was a good foot shorter than Duncan, she pulled him into a good, strong hug.
Amanda pecked him in the cheek and said, "You're still going?"
"Yeah."
"Without me? You know I promised Celeste I'd stay with her for a bit."
"It's boring ol' cleaning out. Only a few days. I'll be back before you miss me."
"I doubt that." Claire wondered how her mom could tell her that she had the perfected pout when she saw Amanda's. Amanda had to be the queen of the pout.
"Why do you have to go, anyway?" Celeste asked. "Weakens the chances for something to happen around here. You know this old broad's missed company."
"I got into a cleaning out mood and want to take care of things before it passes. Besides, I feel like an unwelcome male with you three."
Claire went to Celeste and asked, "Can we go up into the attic today?"
Amanda sniffed. "What on earth do you want to go up there for?"
"All my treasures are up there, my dear," Celeste said. "Any others coming along? You know I could use the help up the steps." She laughed and tapped Claire's cheek. "There's a lot of them."
Claire offered her arm and couldn't wait to see what the old witch could have tucked away. Maybe some old funky clothes or something she could play with would be nice. Most of all, she hoped to find out more about the old woman who was beginning to growing on her, as Claire had never met anyone like her. First of all, she was old as dirt. She seemed to not have an unuttered thought, which could be quite humorous. Just that morning, Celeste talked at length about Amanda's skirt length, or lack of length, when they were just going for lunch. Just a couple of minutes in Celeste's presence and she took one of those annoying pins from her arm. Celeste had a great sense of food, and Claire had eaten more rich and peculiar food than she had in her life. Her father would feed her something that was foreign to her, but usually it was bland or tasted weird. Celeste's exotic concoctions were usually so good Claire hadn't had a hunger pang since their arrival, starting with baguettes and crab dip that was served along with the grape Kool-Aid at 1 am. What Claire had become attached to, and actually looked forward to, was all the hugs the strange woman provided in absence of her mother. Even though Claire never had a lot of friends in her life, she couldn't believe that an old woman was someone Claire connected with quickly. Because Celeste didn't seem to be quite grown up, Claire thought of her as a peer. She knew it didn't make sense, but most of all, she enjoyed being in her company.
~~~~~
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 26, 2013
PARIS
Elizabeth was sprawled on the couch of their suite, wearing a hotel white terry bathrobe, going though all of Claire's drawings she had taken from the garage to really go through. Every once in a while she had to pause and just smell the paper, as it had Claire's smell. Elizabeth couldn't really place what it was, other than it was the aroma of her daughter. Missing her, she picked up the phone from the table over the back of the couch and placed a call to Claire's cell phone. She got the surprise of her life when a feeble, throaty female voice inquired, "Hello?" Elizabeth sat up and tried to figure out if Claire had a cold or this wasn't Claire.
Because she hadn't said anything, the voice called, "Damn, how does this confounded contraption work? It's so small. Impossible... HELLO?!"
"Claire?" Elizabeth asked.
"Claire? This is Claire's phone? What the devil is a child doing with a portable phone anyway?"
"Who is this," Elizabeth demanded, quite unnerved.
"Oh! Are you Mom that Claire goes on about? What the hell was your name again?" she asked as if talking to herself. "Elizabeth! That's it! Is this Elizabeth Gordon?"
"Yes. I'm Claire's mother. This has to be Celeste Baudreau," Elizabeth said a bit relieved that Claire's phone hadn't fallen into enemy hands. "Claire told me and her father a lot about you and your house. She's totally enamored with your house."
"Well, I'll let you into something," Celeste said conspiratorially. "I'm leaving the whole kit and caboodle to Claire. She's such a sweet child. A total delight. So much passion and life in her, I swear she's ten years older than her natural age. Spunk! I love that child."
"I'm happy to hear she hasn't been a burden."
"Burden?! She's made my decade. You're not planning on taking her back anytime soon, are you? Not that you don't have the right. You're her mother, of course. But my heart would just sink if after getting to know her I'll never see her again."
Taking this as a very strange and somewhat needy conversation where Elizabeth didn't know what to say, she said, "Well, thank you for taking such good care of her. Is Claire there? Or Amanda?"
"They're asleep, honey. Well, I'm not sure Amanda is, you know her man is leaving for Paris, so I'm sure they're spending quality time together, but Claire is snug as a bug in a rug. Read her a bedtime story myself, I did."
The approach of an immortal made Elizabeth hope it was Methos. Keeping an ear to what Celeste was saying, she leaned back to see if the door would open or there'd be a knock. "Oh? Which one?"
Methos opened the door, wearing a tuxedo and smile, his hair freshly trimmed, and carrying a dozen roses, which he presented to Elizabeth with fanfare and took the phone from her hand. "Go to bed," Methos demanded into the phone in a forced commanding tone to who he had to assume was their daughter. Suddenly, his face flushed and he stammered, "Oh, Ms. Baudreau. I didn't realize... ah... oh, really... well..."
Elizabeth chuckled and smelled the roses as she replaced the orchids he had brought her yesterday with the roses in the crystal vase on the coffee table. As Methos was biding goodnight to Celeste, Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him and kissed his ear, cheek, and neck. When he snapped the phone closed, he said, "You're under dressed. A state I love to see you in, but we're going out."
"Where to?" The thrill of a night on the town with her husband too handsome for his own good decked out in finery rushed through her.
"You'll see. First, where's that necklace?"
Elizabeth paused. "The ring from the Catacombs?"
"Of course. What other necklace would I be inquiring about at a time like this?"
"What time is it?"
"Time you got dressed." He took in a great big sniff of her and with a last squeeze, told her, "You smell terrific, but I'll take advantage of you later. Wear that black sheath, the necklace, and one other thing."
"Just one? How about underwear, hose, shoes..."
"If you wish," he said chuckling as he walked into the bedroom.
Elizabeth followed to find him going through the bureau. By which drawer he was fumbling through, she knew he was looking for the ring. "You won't find it there."
Methos swung around and looked shocked. "What did you do with it?"
Elizabeth went to another drawer and took out the wooden box the necklace had been ensconced in for a very long time and opened it to show him. "I put it in there for safe keeping. Don't want it to get scratched or anything."
Methos let out a breath and smiled. He looked at the emerald and diamond ring he and Claire gave her when they married the second time surrounded by the priceless diamond necklace, both on deep blue velvet. "Is there any chance you'll wear that? Not forever if you don't want to, but for this evening?"
"I would love to wear this ring for always if you'll put it on me."
As if by agreement, all messiness that happened between them since their second marriage melted away when Methos took the ring in his fingers, got down to one knee, and said, "Lizzie, you're my life. I plan to live a very long time, and you're going to be right there next to me. This ring is a symbol, not only that we can overcome anything, like this ring did in that fire, but that our life is going to fill with riches and love and beauty," as he slipped the ring onto her finger.
Elizabeth fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around Methos. Holding him close and not at all stopping the tears of happiness that began to fall, she asked, "We don't have to be some place at a certain time, do we?"
"Not at all," Methos said, as he lowered them both to the floor.
CONTINUED