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Seacouver - July 10, 1997 - 5:09 p.m.

The jazz music being played across the room floated into Methos' ears like some kind of dream. It was quite slow and quite calming. He heard piano notes rise above the steady flow of the saxophone. Being immortal, sometimes it was hard to find a peaceful moment in time. He let the music lull him into a dreamlike state. He took a slow sip of his drink. It hit his stomach like a punch in the gut.

"GAH! Hey, Joe, what the hell is this?!?" Methos asked.

"It's House Special number Five" Joe replied.

Joe was the owner of the bar. He was also a Watcher, which meant that Joe had a "second job" and a nifty tattoo on his wrist. Not the prettiest tattoo in the world, mind you, but hey, when is getting ink shot into your skin ever pretty anyway?

Methos mumbled to himself about Joe and being a pain and being flogged by Roseanne when he was interrupted.

"Methos, listen to this, will ya?" Joe started. "Some shmuck named Tollinger just killed five people in Cleveland yesterday. Sliced four of them up real nice, and took the fifth's head. Betcha know what that guy is."

"Did you say Tollinger?"

"Well, I wasn't talking about the artist Tolliver. You know him or somethin'?"

"Of course I do. We go way back. He killed my friend."

A Ship off the coast of Italy - July 8, 1822

Methos walked out onto the deck. The rain was beginning to grow harder as the sky grew darker. The cold droplets hit his body as he walked out onto the deck. They had left Leghorn and were heading for Le Spezia. It had been fair sailing until this afternoon. The wind and rain had been steadily increasing as time grew on.

"Percy!" Methos called out.

"Over here, friend!" a small built man yelled from across the deck.

Methos walked towards the man and felt the familiar immortal buzz that happened whenever he was around another immortal. Percy Bysshe Shelley had been immortal since he was 18, before he was expelled from university studies in England. Discovering he was immortal gave Percy a new set of eyes to look at the world. He began to share his views and the headmasters did not approve. After his expulsion at age 19, he married his first wife, Harriet Westbrook. Percy met many new people, and one of them included his second wife, Mary Willstonecraft Shelley. In 1814 he separated from his wife and toured Europe with Mary.

They returned to England in 1816 and met two important people. One was the poet Lord Byron. The second was Methos. Together they had exciting times, from sharing poetry to sharing...other things. Let's just say Percy was extremely liberal for his day. Mary and Percy married in December 1816, 3 weeks after Harriet committed suicide. In 1818 the Shelleys invited Methos to tour Italy with them. So for the past 4 and a half years Methos had been traveling Italy, a place he had not seen in about 1,500 years.

"Hello, Percy. Lovely storm we have going on, eh?"

"Oh, absolutely fabulous. What a way to prepare for my 30th birthday."

"Trust me, Percy, by the time you reach 1,030 you'll hardly think this little incident at sea was anything major at all."

"Watch your voice. Not everyone knows I'm immortal. Speaking of which, where's Tollinger?"

Tollinger was the ships captain. The little band of poets had met Tollinger a few weeks back. Methos expected a confrontation but he ended up being hired as the captain for Percy's aquatic travels. Methos trusted him like he would trust a hungry python.

"I have no idea where he is. Maybe he's peeling the layers of filth off his greasy self."

Right then the buzz happened and Percy's question was answered.

"Tollinger, I was just wondering where --" Percy began but stopped as Tollinger pulled out his sword. "What are you doing?!?"

Methos began to turn and felt a sharp pain in his back. His vision exploded into white and then came back. He looked down and saw part of a blade sticking out of the lower left side of his chest. Blood and rain water mixed together and flowed down his shirt. Another sharp pain was felt as the blade was pulled out. His vision began to blur. The next thing he knew he was on his knees, gasping for air. His eyesight was gone but he could still hear, and what he heard was the clanging of swords. The last words he heard before he fell belonged to Tollinger. They were "all we are are broken blossoms...." The storm was at it's worst and a wave crashed into the boat. Methos rolled into the side of the boat and was thrown overboard. Then he crashed into the unforgiving sea.

He died twice more before finally washing up on shore. He heard that a few days later Percy's body washed up on land also. Percy's BODY washed up. His head was another story. The missing head was discussed for a while, until it was decided his head was dislodged from the body while in the water. Tollinger had vanished during the storm as well. Since then Methos had never seen or heard of Tollinger again.

Seacouver - July 14, 1997 - 5:20 p.m.

"Sounds like a swell guy. Didn't he use to unclog toilets in Los Angeles?"

"I don't know, but I can tell you one thing, Joe, I plan on using his head as a bowling ball."

"That's disgusting but amusing all the same. I hope you were joking, though. You can't bowl with a human head. If you need a ball that bad, you can borrow one of mine."

"I might. You DO have a nice balls."

"You know, that's what all the ladies say to me."

"Joe....do you know you sound a lot like Rodney Dangerfield right now?"

"What, are you trying to insult me? I tell you, I can't get no respect at all."

"Hmm. Anyway, I have to catch a plane to Cleveland."

"All joking aside, you should think twice about confronting this Tollinger person. He killed 5 people at the SAME TIME. One of them was even immortal. That's no small beef."

"That's nothing. I've done....better....back in the old days. In any case, he not only killed someone I knew, he killed someone I LIKED. Percy was what one would consider a friend. MY friend. That's unacceptable."

"Just be careful, all right?"

"Of course."

And with that, Methos walked out of the bar and into the dark streets.

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