| An Ordinary Life Part Seven: New Year, New Beginnings ~~~~~ Joe’s Bar was one of the most popular blues bars in Seacouver, but New Year’s Eve was always the busiest night of the year. People were jammed in enjoying the music and atmosphere. The waitresses hurried around filling drink orders with military precision. Joe stood at the bar like a general surveying his troops. The barkeep would hear the cash register ringing in his sleep. Business was definitely good! Maybe I’ll take the loot and sail to Bora Bora! Joe smiled; Methos had rubbed off on him. Joe looked up from another customer and saw his friends approach. Waving, he set to pouring their favorite drinks. “I see we already started to celebrate,” Joe nodded at Methos and Richie’s slightly glazed eyes. Methos lifted the mug of beer, “Wine, women, and song, my friend! Err or should I say beer?” Richie observed, “Wine is so overrated. Give me good, cold beer any day.” Methos clapped a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, “Ryan, I knew I liked you for a reason.” Joe rolled his eyes at the oldest and youngest shenanigans. Turning away from the two immature immortals, he focused his attention on the others. “Ladies, may I say you both look absolutely gorgeous. What say you dump the old guys and give me a shot?” Joe teased, laughter crinkling his eyes. Stevie and Amanda leaned over the bar and simultaneously kissed the Watcher’s cheek. “Don’t tempt us, Joe!” they both chorused. “Doesn’t Stevie look especially lovely tonight, Joe?” Amanda questioned. Stevie smiled holding the wine glass in her left hand in a very obvious way. Joe knew Amanda was hinting at something. Of course Stevie looked lovely! She couldn’t look anything else but beautiful. Taking another longer look, he spied the sparkling band encircling her ring finger. Joe shook his head, “So he finally did it? I was wondering what was taking him so long.” Stevie grinned at the older man, “Yup, he twisted my arm. What else could I say?” Methos had heard the conversation and joined in, “I take it you approve?” Joe nodded his head, “No one deserves this more than you, old friend.” Methos smiled, “That means a lot, Joseph.” Joe leaned over and pulled out a bottle of his very best champagne, “Let’s do this up right!” Pouring each one a flute of the bubbly, Joe toasted as they raised their glasses, “Methos and Stevie may your love grow strong and true! Stevie, may you have the patience of a saint! You’re gonna need it!” The celebrants clinked the glasses together and drank to Joe’s toast. Before long the clock approached the witching hour and the countdown to the New Year began. “10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1.... Happy New Year!” The occupants of the bar shouted in unison. Lovers shared kisses and friends exchanged hugs and handshakes. Methos lifted his bottle of beer, “May this be the best year ever!!” ~~~~~ An hour later and a little drunker, Methos decided it was time to make their departure. “It’s been real. It’s been fun, but now it’s time to go, my darling. I feel like doin’ a lil private celebratin’,” Methos leered suggestively at his companion. “Where’s me bloody keys, MacLeod?” Methos muttered as he searched his pockets in vain for the missing item. “You, my friend, are too drunk to drive,” admonished Mac. “I’ll call you guys a cab and bring your car home tomorrow when we come. Deal?” Methos mumbled something under his breath about boy scouts, but assented to Mac’s request. Mac helped Stevie load the tipsy immortal into the cab and sent them on their way. Methos dozed lightly with his head on Stevie’s shoulder. Rousing when the cab pulled to a stop in front of their destination, the two walked hand in hand into the house. Stevie led him up the stairs to their bedroom. Methos sank to the bed and a wide grin on his face. “What’s so funny?” Stevie asked, as she got ready for bed. “Nothing,” his grin even wider. Quirking an eyebrow, Stevie went into the bathroom to wash off the last vestiges of makeup from her face. Returning to the bedroom in her nightgown, she saw that the man of her dreams had passed out cold. Shaking her head she went over and began to undress him. First came the shoes and socks. Why hadn’t she ever noticed what cute toes he had? Then she sat next to him and unbuttoned his shirt, enjoying the feel of his warm skin. Finally she reached for his belt to undo the leather strap, when a strong pair of arms came around and rolled her over onto her back. Looking up she saw a lusty smile on his lips, “You rotten scoundrel! You weren’t asleep!” Methos lowered his lips to her collarbone, “Guilty.” next to her neck, “As.” then to her lips, “Charged.” Her hands pushed the shirt off of him and pulled him as close as was physically possible. “What a naughty boy you are,” she purred into his ear. Hazel eyes clouded over with desire. Reaching over and turning off the bedside lamp, the world’s oldest man showed her just what a naughty boy he could be. ~~~~~ THE NEXT AFTERNOON Stevie opened the oven door and slid the heavy pan of lasagna on the rack. Closing the oven door, she adjusted the temperature and wiped her hands on a dishtowel. Hearing a knock at the door, she hurried to greet her guests. Peering out through the lace curtains, she swung open the door for the four cold friends waiting on her doorstep. “Come on in, guys. Let me take your coats.” They were ushered into the warm living room and relieved of their outerwear. “Make yourselves at home.” Each person noted that this house was most definitely a home. “Can I get you all something to drink?” Amanda took the cue and followed Stevie into the kitchen. Returning to the living room, drinks were passed around to the guys already at home on the comfy furniture. “Don’t tell me the old man’s still lying in bed,” Duncan teased. Stevie shook her head, “Nope, believe it or not. I think he was feeling a little restless so he went for a ride. Then I think he was going to get the horses all settled in for the night. He should be back anytime now.” Waiting for him to return, the rest of them passed the time discussing the upcoming wedding. As darkness began to creep across the evening sky, the sounds of heavy footsteps trudging across the porch and approaching buzz alerted them that Methos had finally arrived. The door came open followed by a burst of frigid air and a flurry of snowflakes. “It’s bloody freaking cold out there,” He observed as he and a black and white ball of fur came through the door. Methos looked very much like a cowboy with his long duster, boots, and hat. Pulling the handkerchief away from neck, he smiled to everyone in greeting. Seeing the huge feline, Amanda couldn’t resist. “Well, well. Look at what the cat drug in!” Sneering good naturedly, Methos turned to Stevie. “I am going upstairs and take a shower. Then I’ll be right down.” Hanging up his coat, he stopped long enough to pull off his boots and padded up the stairs followed by Scout. “That cat follows him around like a dog,” Richie said in amazement. “I think Scout thinks he’s another cat,” explained Stevie, “and I’m not sure he isn’t.” “I always had a hard time imagining the old man riding with Butch and Sundance, but after what I just saw,” the Watcher noted with a grin. “He does make a rather sexy cowboy, doesn’t he?” Stevie enthused. Joe spluttered, “That’s not quite what I meant!” Taking up the line of conversation, Amanda added, “Sure, Joe. We believe you, really we do.” Joe looked to Duncan and Richie for help, but it was not forthcoming. Joe threw a glare their way. “Joe, should I be jealous?” Stevie questioned. The Watcher did his best to defend himself against the ruthless women. Each statement of protest he made only dug the hole deeper. He had worked himself into quite a tizzy by the time Methos returned to the living room. “Joe, calm down. You look like you’re going to explode.” Joe turned on the newly arrived immortal, “Easy for you to say, old man.” Methos smiled at his friend and decided to come to the rescue. “Now, ladies, I am shocked and appalled at your behavior. You must remember Joe is very sensitive soul. I don’t want you upsetting his delicate constitution,” he admonished the giggling women. Joe raised his middle digit in salute to the room at large. Amanda and Stevie settled the matter by kissing and cajoling the pissed off Watcher. Shaking his head at the easily swayed Joe, Methos disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, he returned with a beer and a bag of Oreos. He plopped into his oversized recliner, sank into a full-fledged sprawl, and began munching. Bite of cookie, swallow of beer. Bite of cookie, swallow of beer. “That is gross,” Amanda stated, curling up her nose in disgust . Methos looked up in surprise, his friends’ faces showing what they thought of his snack choices. “I’ve heard of beer and pretzels or beer and nuts, but beer and Oreos? Really, Methos, that’s just sick,” Duncan noted. Barely stopping his snacking, Methos said in between bites, “I have two words for you, MacLeod. Bite me.” Before the conversation could continue on its downward spiral, the timer in the kitchen signaled dinner was ready. “Let’s eat!” Richie shouted as he rubbed his stomach in anticipation, leading the others into the kitchen. Amanda and Stevie began sitting out plates and silverware, while Methos pulled the pan of lasagna out of the oven. Duncan gave the salad a final toss and set it on the table. Soon everyone was settled around the table enjoying the food and friendship. Richie closed his eyes in pleasure as he took a bite, “Mmmm! This is awesome.” Methos smiled with pride, “I told you she was a great cook.” Mac sat in wonder as Richie and Methos decimated the huge pan of lasagna almost by themselves. To look at the two lanky Immortals, a person would think they were starved to death on a daily basis, while he had work constantly to maintain his fine form. The only thing he could attribute it to was Richie’s perpetual adolescence and God only knows what hardships in the ancient one’s past. Where they put it he would never understand. When the group had finished eating, Stevie went to the refrigerator and pulled out dessert, a white chocolate cheesecake with raspberry sauce. “Does she cook for you like this every night?” Amanda questioned in amazement. “Of course,” Methos answered. Richie gave Methos a solemn look, “Man, you are so lucky.” “He’s lying through his teeth,” Stevie corrected her fiancé’s answer. “Between going to school and working part time at the bank, I don’t have the time or the energy. Now, Methos, on the other hand is a good cook. He really looks cute with an apron on.” The table erupted into laughter. “You ladies, go on into the living room and rest while we clean up this mess,” Methos admonished the two women. Smiling widely, Amanda returned, “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, I always say.” Joe started loading the dishwasher with Duncan’s help. Richie snatched a dishcloth and wiped down the table. Methos rummaged through the cabinets looking for containers for the leftovers. In short order the kitchen was pristine and the guys joined the gals in the living room. Joe semi-sprawled into a nearby recliner as Duncan snuggled next to Amanda on the couch. “Good grief, the snow’s really coming down now,” Methos pushed the curtains aside to look out the picture window, “There’s probably 3 or 4 inches already. It doesn’t look like you guys are leaving tonight.” Stevie tossed another log into the fireplace, “That’s fine. It’s not like we don’t have the room. Besides, it’ll be like a slumber party.” Richie grinned mischievously, “Oh, I always wanted to go a slumber party.” Stevie playfully punched him on the arm as she passed him on the way to Methos, who had settled once again in his favorite chair. “Pick out a movie, young Ryan, before you get into any more trouble,” the oldest wisest Immortal counseled as Stevie planted herself into his lap. Richie perused the video rack. “So what will it be? Action, romance, blood, comedy?” His eyes spied one of his favorite movies of all time. “Wow! I can’t believe you have this movie. It’s a classic!” Richie waved the video in delight. “Hey, Richie, what movie is it?” Joe asked curiously. “The Princess Bride,” he informed them. Stevie joined his enthusiasm, “It’s my favorite movie of all time!” Both chorused, “Mahwegge!” at the same time. Gales of laughter met the perplexed looks of the other five people in the room. “You guys have got to see this movie. You’ll love it!” Stevie promised. Richie chuckled at the inside joke. “Anybody for popcorn?” Methos questioned, while everyone but Richie groaned in astonishment. “I could eat some popcorn,” he added. The movie was a smashing success. Methos appreciated its dry humor. Amanda agreed that young Wesley was a doll. Duncan and Joe heehawed though most of the movie. “Did anyone else but me see the resemblance between MacLeod and Inigo? The both of them going around introducing themselves to all the world,” Methos snickered. Duncan rolled his eyes, “Inconceivable!” Then Joe couldn’t resist adding, “Humperdink. Humperdink. Humperdink!” The room exploded into laughter again. Soon everyone was yawning. Stevie directed Mac and Amanda into one of the guest bedrooms and Richie settled into the other spare room. Methos helped Joe fold out the sofa so he wouldn’t have to climb the stairs. Goodnights were shouted across the house. Methos couldn’t resist adding, “Goodnight, John Boy!” ~~~~~ A couple of hours later the only noises to be heard were the howling of the wind and the pacing of a restless Immortal. Stevie wasn’t sure which woke her first, but sound of Methos’ frantic pacing alarmed her the most. Back and forth he paced, his tension evident even the darkened room. Leaning on one elbow, Stevie whispered, “Nightmares, again?” He nodded his head in affirmation, but didn’t halt his pacing. Taking a deep breath, she rose and walked over to him. Without saying a word she opened her arms to him. Immediately he was in her embrace, his face buried in her shoulder. Gently, her hands stroked the tension from his body. Feeling him relax, she led him back to the bed and covered him up. His tense features eased into sleep. This was not the first time this had happened. Any fears or sorrows were easily hidden in the daytime hours, but nighttime could bring the monsters to the forefront. On the occasions they had stayed at his loft, she had never noticed he always left a light of some kind burning after they went to bed. The first night they spent at her house, she had turned the bathroom light off and joined him in the bed. The next morning she noticed the bathroom door ajar and the light was on. Her curiosity was aroused after noticing this happened several more times. One night the mystery was solved. Methos accidentally woke her on his trip to the bathroom. She watched in quiet fascination as he crept silently across the floor, and turned on the light and pulled the door almost shut. Just as quietly he slipped back in beside her and pulled her close. “Methos?” she whispered, “Are you alright?” His response was barely audible, “I don’t like the dark.” It was a simple statement of fact, one that she didn’t press. He would tell her on his own when he was ready. The next time he had spent the night at her house, he noticed as she turned out the light a small night-light burning cheerfully from the far corner of the bedroom. She had never questioned him or tried to pry the reason for his fear. She had accepted his admission and did her best to comfort him. The simple act of a night-light had brought down one of his walls. In the stillness of the night, he had shared a story of being buried alive. Dying and reviving over and over. The darkness so oppressive and the silence threatening his sanity. At times she felt she was living with a war stricken veteran and it was an apt description. He was a veteran of five thousand years of unspeakable horrors and joys. She learned quickly never to rouse him suddenly from slumber. He was beside himself with terror when he had pulled his Ivanhoe on her after she had woken him from a dead sleep. The two of them had cried in each other’s arms after that incident. Stevie had known from the moment she found out about his Immortality that she would need to adapt. Slowly but surely she was growing accustomed to the trials and tribulations that accompanied loving the world’s oldest man. Pulling herself from the dark thoughts that haunted her mind; she tucked the covers snugly around the sleeping man. She ran a restless hand through her unruly hair. Sleep was now out of her reach. Plucking her robe from the end of the bed, she belted it around her waist and went to check on her sleeping guests. Passing the guest rooms, she heard the quiet snoring of Duncan, Amanda, and Richie. Heading down the stairs she silently crept into kitchen careful not to wake the sound asleep Joe. She poured herself a small amount of brandy to calm her nerves. The fading glow of the fireplace comforted her as she sank into the nearest chair. “Can’t sleep?” Joe asked, stating the obvious. “I’m sorry, Joe. I didn’t mean to wake you,” she apologized. The older man pulled himself into a sitting position. “You didn’t. I assume I have Methos to thank for that. He was the one doing the pacing, wasn’t he?” Without intention, a weary sigh escaped from Stevie. “Nightmares again. Pacing helps him push them back into his subconscious or so he tells me.” Joe nodded, “Seems to be the party line with him. He was at my place one night and I caught him doing the same thing. It liked to have scared me to death. After almost two hours and a couple shots of Scotch, I was finally able to go back to sleep.” Stevie shuddered visibly. “How does he keep it together, Joe? I mean, he hasn’t told me what the nightmares are about, but you don’t wake up screaming or pace for hours on end dreaming about butterflies and kittens.” Joe had no easy answers, “The old man is pretty tight lipped about his past. He claims he can’t remember anything before taking his first head.” Stevie grimaced. “Can’t or won’t?” Joe shrugged his shoulders in answer. “Has he been having a lot of nightmares lately?” Shaking her head in affirmation. “Not at first, but in the last few weeks they’ve been getting worse.” Joe grimaced. “I don’t guess the old man has told you what they’re about, has he?” Rubbing her forehead to relieve the stress that settled there, she didn’t have the answer Joe had hoped for, “No. Afterwards, he’s deathly quiet and I refuse to prod or pester him for details. The way I see it, he will tell me when he’s ready. When he shares things about his past with me, I want it to be because he wants to not because I’ve tried to force him into it. I respect him to much to do that to him.” The two sat in silence, each lost in their own wondering. Joe broke the stillness. “You’re good for him, you know.” Stevie smiled, but didn’t say anything. Joe continued on, “He needs love more desperately than anyone I know.” The younger woman twisted the diamond band that encircled her finger. “Did he tell you about Alexa?” Joe probed carefully. Stevie nodded her head, “Yes, he did. Not long after we met.” Joe cleared his throat, “He fell for her hard and when he found out she was dying,” Joe struggled with the memory, “his heart started breaking. He knew that they had just a brief time to be together, but he showed her love and happiness despite how it tore him up.” Stevie remembered her grief of losing Ross. “Losing someone can tear you apart and make you feel like the end of the world.” Joe closed his eyes in silent agreement. “When he brought Alexa’s body back to Paris to be buried, he looked like a haunted animal. He buried the first person he had loved in a long time. He doesn’t let people into his heart very often, but when he does, he loves completely.” Stevie’s face held a mixture of joy and sadness, “Joe, I love him so much. You know, after Ross died I was totally prepared never feel this way again. I mean I was lucky once, why would I be so lucky again? I realize that I’m not the first person he’s loved nor will I be the last, for that matter.” She paused for a moment then continued, “I don’t envy his Immortality. Honestly, I wonder how he keeps going on. I couldn’t do it.” Joe reached over and squeezed her hand, “Neither could I. I’ve been a Watcher for years and it still amazes me how they keep it all together. Just know that you’ve made the going on easier for him.” While Stevie and Joe were downstairs, the object of discussion was in the throes of another nightmare. His body twisted against an unseen enemy, the sheet and comforter lay discarded in a heap beside the bed. Rivulets of sweat formed and trailed down his tense body. Somewhere in his subconscious he tried to fight the downward spiral into his darkest fears and nightmares, but he plunged like a knife into the heart of the darkness that engulfed him. Once again he stood in the confines of the Horsemen’s camp. The smoky smells of the campfire and sounds of the horses assaulted his senses. His feet were firmly planted on the sandy ground. Spinning around he quickly assessed the situation; his breathing was rapid and heavy. Hearing a sardonic laugh behind, he turned to face the man who had been his brother and friend for a millennium. “Kronos!” The word came unbidden from his lips. Icy blue eyes showed no inkling of emotion, only cold harshness. “Well, well, Brother, to what do I owe this great pleasure?” Kronos queried, sarcasm dripping with each word. Methos met his stare and refused to answer the man in front of him. Kronos bit back a curse, “Caspian, our brother doesn’t want to talk? I think you might be able to persuade him.” At the sound of Kronos’ voice, the other Immortal came stalking out of a nearby tent, pulling someone behind him. Methos stiffened in reaction when he saw the bruised and battered woman in the insane Immortal’s possession. “Stevie!” he yelled in shock. The woman raised her head in response to his cry. Her eyes met his for a few brief moments and turned away from him. Where her eyes had once looked on him with love and tenderness, they now held only disgust and revulsion. “What have you done to her, Kronos? You bastard, I swear I’ll kill you,” Methos’ angry voice warned. Kronos and Caspian shared a laugh at his threat. Kronos words were laced with bitterness, “You forget, Methos, we are dead, no thanks to you and MacLeod.” Caspian couldn’t remain silent any longer, “She knows what you are, Methos. See? She cannot even look you in eye. How do they say...One good turn deserves another?” Methos stood in front of Stevie and tried to explain, but Kronos’ hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Caspian is right. Now draw your sword or she dies.” From out of nowhere the Ivanhoe was in his hand, and Kronos’ heavy sword clanged against his with deadly accuracy. The battle raged on, Methos met each thrust and parry that Kronos delivered. Panic rose like bile in his throat when he saw the dagger Caspian had pressed to Stevie’s neck. Kronos jeered, “You have gone soft, dear brother.” He barked out a command, “Kill her, Caspian.” Methos turned in time to see Caspian plunge the dagger into her heart. The life slowly drained out of her as Methos watched in horror. “How could you?” she questioned as her eyes shut forever. Something snapped inside him. He swung his sword like a madman as he screamed her name again and again. The sound of crashing glass and a falling body brought the entire house to full alert. “What the hell?” Joe exclaimed. “Methos!” Stevie shouted as bolted from the chair and up the stairs. By the time she reached the top of the stairs, Duncan, Amanda, and Richie had came out of their rooms. “What’s going on?” Duncan asked, sleepily as he ran his fingers through his hair. Before she could answer, Methos screaming her name and the sound of furniture crashing diverted their attention. The group raced down the hall to the master bedroom. Pushing to the front, Duncan threw the door open. The door crashed against the wall revealing Methos’ frenzied struggle against an unseen foe. “Shit!” Richie exclamation echoed down the hall. The Ivanhoe glittered in the dim light as Methos hefted it in wildly arcing strokes. Tears streamed unheeded down his face, grief and anger played a bitter war in his eyes. Stevie tried to shove past Richie and Duncan, but Amanda pulled her back. “I can’t let you go in there, Stevie. If he were to hurt you, it would kill him.” Joe had hurried to strap on his prosthesis and made it up the stairs. Seeing the Watcher, Amanda thrust Stevie into his embrace, “Take care of her, Joe.” She rushed down the hall to the bedroom she and Duncan had been sharing and retrieved the katana from its resting place. Seeing Amanda carrying the sword sent Stevie into full-blown panic, “What are you doing with that? He’s having a nightmare; he doesn’t know what he’s doing, Amanda.” Amanda stopped long enough to answer, “Duncan will need this til he can calm Methos down.” Inside the bedroom, Methos continued his rampage. Reluctantly Duncan took the sword Amanda offered to him. “Methos!” he yelled in an unsuccessful attempt to rouse the other Immortal from his nightmarish battle. Instead Methos whirled to engage Duncan with his sword, “You bastard. MacLeod may have killed you once, but Death will finish the job.” Duncan staggered under the force of Methos’ words and blows. Rage brought out latent skills Methos tried to keep buried under his ‘Adam Pierson’ facade. Duncan remained on the defensive, “Methos, It’s me... MacLeod. You’re having a nightmare. Please, Methos, wake up.” His pleas fell on deaf ears. If the ancient Immortal didn’t wake up soon, Duncan feared he would have to take a more aggressive stance with his friend. No longer able to stand on the sidelines, Stevie wrenched free of Joe’s hold and burst into the bedroom. Common sense left her as she placed herself between the two sword wielding men, just as Methos was about to deliver a head-severing blow. Grasping his arm, Stevie held his gaze and shouted, “Stop, Methos! I’m here!” The room became eerily still as they waited for the next blow to come raining down. Instead a look of cognizance filtered into Methos’ face. A collective sigh of relief was earsplitting in contrast to silence that preceded it. With awareness came the shock of what had happened. Methos slid to his knees and began keening softly as his body rocked back and forth. Stevie and Duncan went to their knees and wrapped their arms around the huddled figure of her lover and his friend. Unsure of what their next move should be, they continued to comfort Methos. The anguished man had gone completely silent, which troubled his assembled friends. He refused to meet their eyes; shamed by his display just moments before. What must they think? Have I lost my freaking mind? Stevie lifted his chin, forcing him to face her, “I love you, Methos.” “Why? How?” The words sounded suspiciously like a sob. His eyes searched hers, hoping to find the answers. “How can you even wonder?” She wiped a stray tear from his cheek. “You’re giving me and Maggie another chance at family. You have opened my heart to love. You have asked me to share your life. That’s how. That‘s why.” Her lips kissed away the tears from his face. Hesitantly his arms encircled her and tightened as she nuzzled against his chest. “God, I love you,” his ragged whisper filled her ear. Duncan eased away from the couple and leaned exhausted against the bed. His heart pounded in his chest, exertion evidence of his battle with Methos. It was apparent the old man had been holding back in their sparring sessions. The power held so easily in check was enough to deepen the Scot’s respect for his friend. Enigmatic Methos. Did anyone truly know the ancient one? How many masks and walls did he hide behind? His focus returned to the couple kneeling on the floor. Stevie, fiercely protective of the man holding her firmly in his arms, had gently tamed the restless, lonely man. She had learned more about him in the four short months they had been together than the whole four years they’d been friends. In the past, he and Joe had tried to pester and cajole information and wisdom from the elusive Methos, awed by the five thousand years of history contained in the body of a lanky grad student. They had built a pedestal high into the clouds and placed a reluctant Methos upon it. As past transgressions came to light, they had seen the pedestal waiver and then come crashing down around their tarnished hero. He had told them he was just a guy only they had refused to believe it. Were they guilty of loving the legend and not the man? Did Methos sense this and hold back fearing their judgment and disapproval? A heavy sigh escaped as Duncan prayed that wasn’t the case. Stevie rose and held out a hand to help Methos gain his feet. Unsteadily, he unfolded his frame. Looking around, Methos spotted the worried faces in the doorway. Gods, did everyone witness the madness? Giving them what he hoped was an apologetic face, he headed to the master bath. Maybe a nice, hot shower would cleanse the dirty feelings left by his nightmares. Stevie gathered up some fresh, clean garments to replace the sweat soaked ones he wore. Knowing he needed time to himself, she closed the bathroom door on her way out. Hearing the shower running, Stevie sank heavily onto the bed. The others crowded around her offering silent comfort. “You guys go on back to bed. We’ll be alright, I promise,” her voice braver than she felt. “If you need us...” Duncan offered as Amanda pushed him out the door. Joe and Richie hugged her quickly before they went in search of their bed. Waiting for Methos to finish, she began righting the mess left from Methos’ rampage. ~~~~~ Reread Part Six Return To Chapter Index Continued in Part Eight-- The Old Man In the Modern Day Marketplace Coming Soon! Really I promise!! |