THE HUNT Title: The Hunt
Author: Rimau
Email address: rimaufic@yahoo.co.uk
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Highlander
Pairing: Duncan/Methos
Date: October 1999
Sequel: Yep. Actually it's a prequel/companion piece/sequel. To ‘The Matchmaker’. Read that first.
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue!
Summary: Methos joins Connor MacLeod on a hunt. Who's the prey?
Author's webpage: http://www.rimau.aeglos.org/

Here it is, the companion piece to 'The Matchmaker'. Sorry it took so long. Please note that I really did add some new things to it. I didn't just copy all the dialogue from Methos' POV. The story is also a sequel. It doesn't end at the airport. Yes, all the whining, critique and death threats I received made me work twice as hard as I had originally planned.

READ THIS FIRST!! It's NC-17 for explicit sex and explicit violence. There are some parts that are extremely disturbing and if you're squeamish about reading graphic descriptions of killing and torturing people, go away. I kid you not. Some of the stuff I wrote made even me lose my appetite. Not the sex part, though. But if the idea of two men having sex nauseates you, you should stop reading right now and then maybe contact a good doctor. If his name is Ben Adams, say hi from me...

Don't worry about the beginning. There's no D in the rating. And never will be in my stories!

I use a quote from Tom Clancy's 'Debt of Honor'. Good quote, wonderful book.

Arleen, you saved what's left of my sanity. I can never thank you enough for that! I will try, though. Olympia, thanks for all the good advice. And Raonaid. You really are the best.

The Hunt
by: Rimau


This time even I'm amazed to still be alive. Once again I'm the sole Survivor after a battle, but this time it's not because of my skill. Luck really was a Lady tonight. Well, for me anyway.

I can still feel the hard steel on my neck, and I raise my hand to wipe off the last traces of blood. I think Kemppain's sword just barely missed my vocal cords. Thank Gods for small miracles. I don't want to end up like Kalas, even though I'm not much of a singer.

It's damn cold here. I'm lying on my back in snow, staring at the dark sky that's dotted with flying snowflakes. I hate snow. It's not just a mild dislike, I'm talking about pure hate here. It's cold, it's wet and when it's falling from the sky, it blurs your vision, which is definitely a bad thing when you're fighting for your life.

Fortunately snow also means ice. The slippery cobblestones got Connor killed, but they probably saved my life. If Kemppain hadn't slipped, there could be four dead bodies in this alley instead of three.

I feel a bit better now and decide to get up. My private parts are freezing. I manage to sit up, but my legs refuse to co-operate with me. I rub them to restore the circulation, cursing under my breath. When I'm finally standing up, I brush off the snow from my clothes. It doesn't help much. Most of it has already melted and my backside is disgustingly damp.

I look around, wondering why no one's come to check out what caused all the noise. I'm glad that the Swedes have enough common sense to stay inside at night, especially when it's snowing, but this really is ridiculous. Kemppain had a gun and he used it. Half the street lamps exploded with his Quickening, a big display window is all around us in shards and there are broken roof tiles all over Connor.

And of course there's blood everywhere. It's actually quite beautiful, Crimson spots coloring the otherwise white ground. I might even enjoy watching it if a big part of it weren't Duncan's.

I don't go to his body. It's too heavy for me to move anyway. I stay away from Connor too. I don't want to even look at them, and I go to lean against an old well that's in the middle of the alleyway. For some reason people always see old wells and water pumps as something romantic, their ancestors meeting there, young men flirting with girls who were carrying water home. Rubbish, I say. There's nothing romantic about cholera.

And there's certainly nothing romantic in this alley, especially right now.

From the moment I started this journey, I feared that it would end with me standing next to my Highlander's body, feeling cold all over. I was right. I should have thought more happy thoughts, but even though I'll never grow 'old', I'm no Peter Pan. I'm just an aged guy, who's seen too much blood, too much death. Quite frankly, I'm tired of it. I'm tired of seeing my lovers die right in front of me.

Damn, it's cold here. I can see my breathing, a puff of steam hanging in front of me, and I have to wipe my face on my mittens. Stockholm in wintertime is definitely not a good place for crying. Tears will freeze on your cheeks. I don't dare to pace, fearing that I'll fall again, and so I just stomp my feet on the ground. It makes a surprisingly loud noise, but it also keeps my toes from turning blue.

It seems like it's been hours since Kemppain got his head cut off, even Though it can't be more than five minutes, and I don't understand why nothing's happened. I can't leave my friend and my lover like this, but every minute I spend standing here increases the risk of getting caught. I don't want to see the inside of a Swedish jail. Once you've seen one, you've seen them all. I want to get back to the hotel, back to my warm bed and get really drunk. And I don't ever want to see snow again in my life!

How the hell did I get myself into this mess anyway?

At the time, I had no idea why I followed MacLeod and Joe back to the States after Byron died. Or if I did, I didn't acknowledge it to myself. I'd planned on disappearing again, maybe spending a few centuries sitting under a palm tree on some tropical island. Warm climate, cold beer and a good book. That's what I'd call paradise. And this time I wouldn't come back. I might write or call Joe from time to time, but that's it. After all, I'm used to being alone. I like being alone.

But instead of leaving, I followed my friends like a dog on a leash and found myself back in the chilly town near the Canadian border.

I got myself a small apartment, not wanting to annoy the Highlander by Taking over his couch again. He looked a little offended when I told him where I'd be staying, but didn't say anything.

Joe and MacLeod went back to their businesses, but I didn't have anything important to do. I thought about that long vacation about a week after we had returned to Seacouver, and decided to leave after all. It was far more pleasurable to spend my days doing nothing some place warmer.

So I packed my bag and ordered a one way ticket to Sumatra. I even drove to the airport, almost boarding the plane.

Then I remembered that I hadn't even left a note for my friends. Before even realizing what I was doing, I was heading back to my apartment. That was a huge mistake. It's fascinating how my heart sometimes overrides millennia of survival instincts.

Somehow I never got to write that note. When I stepped out of the taxi, I saw Duncan walking towards the place I'd lived in. Somehow I managed to explain my old duffel bag without mentioning leaving the country, and after changing my clothes, I ended up going to Joe's with MacLeod. We had a wonderful time, it was almost like the months that we'd spent in Paris had been just a bad dream. When Joe played some of my favorite tunes and the Highlander smiled at me over the rim of his glass before downing the scotch, I forgot all about my plans of going away.

After that I decided to take a teaching job at the U and began my life as Professor Pierson. And I never even tried to leave again.

Maybe I had finally lost my mind. Or what was left of it anyway.

It was actually fun to work for a living again. I don't have to work for money, but if I just lived on my savings in a place like Seacouver, doing nothing, I'd get bored in no time. Teaching wasn't new to me and since I didn't have a class every day, it was actually quite fun to re- enter the academic world. All my classes were rolling and I'd gotten used to waking up early in the morning. Well, as much as I could ever get used to that.

Things were looking good.

I'd just had an argument with one of the professors of the History Department and was seething with anger as I left the campus. It's really annoying to fight with a pompous ass about something and then lose just because I can't prove my point. When I felt the urge to yell to that arrogant 'humanist' that I'd been there, I decided it was time to back off. To get into a better mood, I decided to go to see how MacLeod was doing. We hadn't seen each other for a few days. I'd been too busy with the classes.

I knew something was wrong the minute I stepped inside the dojo. Usually the place was packed with sweaty musclemen that time of day, but now there was no one working out there. After pacing around the little gym for a few minutes I climbed the stairs to the loft. Halfway up I felt the Presence. At least MacLeod was home.

The door to the loft was open. I guess my friend had opened it as soon as he felt me coming. That was very good. It was always best to have a clear view of the approaching enemy.

I stepped inside and smiled at the young man. "MacLeod. Are you going to use that?"

"Come on in, Methos." He put his sword down and gestured towards the fridge. "Grab yourself a beer."

"Thanks." I tossed my coat onto the couch and walked into the kitchen area.

The fridge was the first clue that something wasn't right up there either. There were a couple of bottles of beer, a tomato and a bottle of salad dressing. Nothing else. Considering the fact that the Scot loved to cook, that was a bit alarming. I grabbed a beer, opened it, and looked around me after taking a swig. There was nothing wrong in the place, but I had a nagging feeling that something...

My gaze swept over Mac's bed and then focused on the packed bags that were right next to it. Damn. Where was he going this time?

I turned slowly to my friend. "Going somewhere?"

"Yes." MacLeod sounded a little defensive. "I've been invited to be a judge in a martial arts tournament."

"I thought you didn't do competitions anymore."

He laughed. "I usually don't. But I thought that... Well, it sounded like a good idea."

He was definitely hiding something. "So, how long will you be gone?"

"About a week, I guess."

"Mm hmm." Not very convincing. "That tournament, is it held in Paris?"

"What? No, it's held here in the States, in a small town called Stoede. Why?"

I couldn't tell him that I was afraid that he was sneaking out on me. "I was just wondering. Why haven't you told me about it earlier?" Well, now. That was smooth.

Duncan looked away from me. "I... I needed some time to think, Methos."

"About what?"

"Everything." He sat down on the couch. "I need to get away from here for a little while. Take a little vacation of sorts and be by myself. It has nothing to do with Joe or you, I just want to get some distance from everything familiar."

If he hadn't moved his gaze to his shoes right after saying that, I might have even believed it. However, he had no obligation to bear his soul to me, and I just nodded. "When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning. Don't worry, I'm still coming to Joe's tonight. You don't have to drink all alone."

"Great." I emptied the bottle. "Mind if I take another one?" I didn't even wait for his answer and turned back to the fridge, leaving the empty bottle on the counter.

Duncan scowled at me and went to put the bottle away. "At least I don't have to clean your mess for the next week."

I gave him a feeble smile. "I'm going to miss your hospitality."

"You'll get over it."

I wasn't all that sure about that.

I'd given my students a little project to work on, and myself a few days off, and decided I should spend some time with a friend. So there I was, sitting at Joe's, drinking beer. I was just there to chat with Joe. The fact that MacLeod had been out of town for over a week, and was supposed to be back in Seacouver by now, had nothing to do with me getting to the bar as soon as it opened. Maybe he wouldn't even come to see Joe that day. If we met, it would be purely coincidental. It wasn't like I missed him or anything.

After nursing a beer for over an hour I was getting a bit bored. Where was that annoying Scot anyway?

Joe sighed as he saw my expression. "You really should at least try to act like you're having fun. That frown is bad for business, you're scaring the other customers away."

"What other customers? You know as well as I do that the people who come here at this time of day don't care about anything else but the booze."

"You're probably right." He chuckled. "Do you fit that category too?"

"Who, me?" I faked an innocent look. "I'm here just to enjoy your wonderful company."

Joe raised an eyebrow. "Should I be flattered or offended?"

I opened my mouth to answer and then felt the familiar tingling at the base of my skull. Joe glanced at the door, smiling a little and I didn't bother to turn around. If it had been anyone else but MacLeod, my friend would have warned me immediately. I raised the bottle to my lips. I had a reputation to maintain and didn't want to seem too eager to see my friend. "I meant it as a compliment."

Joe ignored me and smiled at Mac. "What can I get for you?"

I almost laughed. As if Joe didn't know.

"You're Joe Dawson?"

The accent was Scottish, but the voice was unfamiliar. I scrambled off the barstool and turned around, my hand reaching for the hilt of my sword instinctively.

The other man was also taking a defensive position.

He looked familiar somehow and it didn't take me long to get his name into my mind. What on earth was Connor MacLeod doing in Seacouver? It probably had nothing to do with me or my appearance, even though one might have thought otherwise from the way he was staring at my nose. What was it with these Scots and noses anyway? Was this beak-fetish universal or was it just my nose that drew their attention? At least I didn't have to worry about getting paint on mine with this Highlander. More likely he'd just cut it right off.

I moved my hands slowly away from my sword and then climbed back to my seat. It was good to see that I hadn't spilled my beer. I took a swig and let my body relax, knowing that I was safe with the Scot.

Connor MacLeod raised a questioning eyebrow. "You really should be more careful. I could be a headhunter."

A headhunter? Right. Like the cousin of my dear moralist would stoop so low. "Not with that accent." I grinned and then shook my head. "I was waiting for a friend." Throwing a dark look at Joe, I added, "Thanks for not warning, Joe."

That little bastard just laughed. "How was I supposed to know which MacLeod you were talking about?" He poured Connor a glass of whiskey. "Here. I believe this is something you enjoy as much as your cousin does."

Connor took the glass and stared at the pale brown liquid. It seemed he wasn't going to say anything and I took another swig of beer, thinking what to do next. I knew my Scot and if Connor was anything like his cousin, it wouldn't be wise to give him time to brood in a situation like this.

I put the bottle down on the counter and held out my right hand. "I'm Adam Pierson. And yes, as you guessed, he's Dawson. It's a pleasure to meet another member of the Clan MacLeod." I knew Duncan had told his cousin about the Watchers, but I was certain that he hadn't mentioned me. Telling Connor about Adam Pierson would have been almost like lying and revealing my identity would have been a betrayal of trust. Two things the most honorable Duncan MacLeod would never do.

The Highlander nodded and took my hand. "It seems some things never change. Like my cousin's big mouth."

The resigned tone of his voice made me laugh. "Well, Duncan is such a sentimentalist sometimes and he is proud of his kinsman." He'd told me about his cousin and all the trouble they'd gotten into together a couple of times, and every time his eyes had gleamed like a child's when he's talking about his idol. I must say that I didn't wonder. Connor's reputation is almost as big as Duncan's.

"Sentimentalist, you say?" Connor tried to look annoyed, but couldn't keep the proud look off his face. "A stubborn fool would be more appropriate. Since he uses his real name all the time, it seems he's incapable of understanding that others might like to have a little anonymity. But then again, I don't believe discretion is part of his vocabulary."

I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing. He could say that again.

Joe looked at Connor. "The same can't be said of you, Mr. Nash."

The Scot looked impressed. He squinted his eyes and then laid his left hand on the counter, grabbing his glass with the right one. Not saying a word, he took a sip, smiling just a little as the whiskey burned its way down his throat. Apparently he had decided that it was safe to drink with us. What a nice gesture.

I looked at Joe and noticed that he was also trying very hard not to laugh. He saw me looking and winked.

Connor put down his glass. "I came here to see Duncan. He called me three days ago, telling me he had something urgent to discuss with me. He was supposed to be back yesterday from some tournament he was at, but when I went to his apartment an hour ago, there was no one home. He's never stood me up before and I thought he might be here."

Duncan being late didn't worry me. Maybe he'd found some woman at the tournament. No, I wasn't worried at all. Jealous, yes.

Joe frowned. "Haven't seen him since he left for that tournament in Stoede about a week ago." He glanced at me and I shook my head. I hadn't heard from him after that either. "I think I should call Timothy Kesti."

"Kesti? Why?"

"I assigned him to Watch Mac."

"What? You put a Watcher on him? Why?" I was glad I hadn't been drinking when he said that. A mouthful of beer would have been spat all over the counter and my friend's shirt. I couldn't believe Joe had done that.

He looked pained. "Adam. Kesti's new. Duncan's fairly easy to observe. Since we already knew where he was going, and why, I thought it would be a perfect assignment for Tim. You know he's into martial arts and he'll blend in perfectly at that kind of tournament."

"But still. If Mac finds out you did this to him..."

Connor coughed. "Excuse me, but is every Immortal here in Seacouver this familiar and friendly with the Watchers?"

Of course he had to ask. I looked at Joe, waiting for him to solve the situation. After all, he'd gotten us into this mess by playing his little spying games.

He nodded at me. "Adam used to be one of us. We knew each other long before..."

I knew he was going to say that we knew each other long before I ever became an Immortal, but I decided to act like I didn't want him to tell Connor about my 'age' and cut his sentence. "And we're still friends."

I saw the younger Immortal take the bait. There would be no more questions about my age. It was nice not to have to lie. Oh, I'm not squeamish about bending the truth a little every now and again, but if I'd given him some exact number, I'd have had to remember it later.

Joe went to call Kesti and I emptied my bottle. I began to peel off the label, waiting for Connor to start asking questions. I didn't have to wait for long.

"So you're Joe's old friend. What about my cousin? You obviously know him, but he's never mentioned you to me."

"I met Duncan in Paris three years ago. I guess you could call us friends." I wasn't sure if I could do the same. The mess with my former brothers, and then Byron, had changed our relationship. We still spent time together, but it wasn't the same anymore. Sometimes I saw this really strange look on Duncan's face when he thought I wasn't looking. It was almost like being with me was painful for him. I wondered if he wanted me to leave him alone.

Too bad. He'd have to live with my presence, or really work on driving me away. I didn't intend to go anywhere.

Well now. Wasn't that a revelation?

Connor seemed to have lost interest in me. That didn't exactly bother me. I didn't want to be the center of any Immortal's attention. A certain stubborn long-haired Scot excepted, of course.

We sat in silence, waiting for Joe to finish his call.

When he finally came back to us, he looked grave. I felt my heart rate double and prayed that he wouldn't now give us the name of the Immortal who had taken Duncan's head.

"I called Tim's cellular. He's in a hospital in Stoede." He grimaced and I felt like I'd faint. What the hell had happened? "He's been mugged. He told me he had seen some unknown people attack Mac outside his hotel and when the attackers noticed him, they manhandled him too and then left with Duncan."

Connor swore. "I think I'd better go find out what happened to him."

It was good he was going after Duncan. That way I didn't have to worry about my Highlander. I could just wait there and relax. The matter was taken care of.

I jumped to my feet. "Fine. Let's go."

"Look, lad. I can handle this by myself. He's my cousin."

Yes, but he was my... I decided to let Joe persuade him to let us go with him.

"You need us. You need to know exactly what happened with the muggers, and the only witness is Tim Kesti. And he won't talk to you. You might be less notorious than your cousin, but even if he doesn't know you by sight, your appearance is a dead giveaway that you're an Immortal."

Connor frowned. "What about my appearance?"

The fact that he didn't argue anymore made me feel relief. Apparently he'd realized that Joe was right.

Joe looked a little embarrassed. "Well, pardon me, but only an Immortal --or a flasher-- would use that kind of a coat."

I couldn't help laughing. It had been an inside joke with the Watchers for decades, but this was the first time I'd ever heard it used in the company of an Immortal. Another Immortal, that is.

"All right, Dawson. You can come with me." I could tell by the way he glared at me, that his 'you' wasn't a plural.

Joe went to call Dave, his newest employee, and ask him to take care of the bar now that he was taking a short vacation. After finishing the call, he didn't put the receiver down, but dialed again. Seeing that I was looking at him, he nodded towards Connor and then at me, obviously asking something.

I frowned, making him roll his eyes. After glancing at the Highlander, he pointed at him. Then he pointed at himself and raised two fingers. That hand made a gesture towards the door, and then moved to point at me. Even as his eyebrows raised, I nodded vigorously. Yes, I'd go with them.

After finally lowering the receiver, the Watcher walked back to us. "I got us tickets to the next plane heading near Stoede."

"Thanks." The Highlander grunted, and then seemed to sink back into his own somber thoughts. Typical.

Then we all just waited for the young bartender to appear, so we could get going. I didn't say anything to Connor. Talking about the trip would be useless. The Scot would only argue.

I'd just have to follow those two.

Joe exchanged a few words with Dave when the young man finally appeared. After handing him the keys, the Watcher took something from the safe behind the counter and then headed to the door. I followed right behind him.

Connor glared at me, and I could almost see the smoke coming from his ears. "Where do you think you're going, lad?"

"To find my friend."

"I think the last thing Duncan would want would be dragging you into this, too."

"I'm coming with you." Nothing could stop me from going.

"The hell you are!"

I climbed into the back seat of Joe's car, ignoring Connor's objections. The Highlander scowled at Joe, but threw his bag next to me, and then muttered some chosen profanities as he sat next to the driver's seat.

We stopped first at my friend's place, and after Joe returned to the car with a hastily packed duffel bag, we went to my apartment. Joe gave me the keys as I exited the car. That way the car would really be waiting when I got back down.

That show of mistrust definitely didn't make Connor feel any better about this trip. Even as I jogged up the stairs, I could hear him trying to convince Joe to make me stay behind.

I packed a few shirts and pants and grabbed my spare sword and a couple of other weapons I didn't bother to carry around when I was just going for a beer. I called the University, informing that there was a crisis in my family and I had to leave the town for a short period of time. The dean didn't sound too happy, but she wished everything would go well for me and my family. I promised I'd call her immediately when I returned.

Throwing one more look around the living room, I made a quick mental check that I hadn't forgotten anything essential. Then I jogged back down the stairs.

When I came back to the car, I noticed that whatever the two men had talked when I was gone hadn't improved Connor's mood. He glowered at me and then spent the rest of the trip to the airport trying to persuade me to stay in Seacouver.

His arguments didn't work. Yes, I was aware that there might be an Immortal behind all this. I knew that we'd be in danger. What did he think? That youth meant stupidity? I began to understand why young Ryan looked so pained sometimes around Duncan. The Highlander was damn irritating.

Deciding not to let him annoy me, I sat in the back seat, listening to his complaints and watched Joe's shoulders shake. Apparently he thought that Connor's tirade was hilarious.

I was relieved when the Scot finally rolled his eyes and said, "Fine. It's your head."

Yes, it was, and I had the right to risk it to save a friend if I wanted to. I turned my gaze to watch the scenery as we neared the airport, trying to keep the smug smile off my face.

I can't sleep on a plane and so I had to suffer Connor's questions while Joe snored next to me.

I told him a few things about Professor Pierson, acting like I was a bit shy. I couldn't really order him to back off. I was supposed to be in my mid-thirties and he was over ten times older than Adam Pierson was. I figured that the Scot would respect my privacy if I made it clear that I wasn't all that comfortable talking about myself with him.

He embraced the idea of me being a geeky scholar. He even called me Duncan's student a few times, forcing me to escape to the toilet in order to have some privacy while I laughed my ass off. I almost choked when he smiled at me patronizingly when I returned to my seat and saw that he'd gotten me a can of Coke as the stewardess had passed our seats with the drink cart.

It was good to see that Connor wasn't as protective as Duncan. I would have strangled the Highlander if he'd tried to treat me like a lost little child. His arrogance was far easier to deal with.

The older MacLeod was just like I'd always imagined him to be: Sarcastic, arrogant, intelligent. A bit more careful with unknown Immortals than his cousin, but basically the two Scots were so similar, I was certain I could handle this one, too.

There was strength in these Highlanders that I'd seldom met in other Immortals. They were both good men, honorable creatures who always defended the innocent even if it might cost them their heads.

We all have our flaws.

In the rental car it was my turn to take a little nap. Joe's a genius at organizing things and he'd managed to get us a car that had special equipment so he could drive. Even so, Connor was the one who climbed behind the wheel. It was fine by me. At least now I could have some peace and quiet.

The drive took hours. Apparently Stoede was a little backwoods town, right in the middle of nowhere. Wondering why on earth would someone bother to have a martial arts competition in a place like that, I opened my eyes slightly to see the place when we neared the town's outskirts.

It wasn't exactly a one horse town, but not far from it either. The sign that welcomed visitors to Stoede said that it was a place for a better tomorrow. I just hoped that there was a decent hotel there.

There was. Actually it was an astonishingly good place, and even though it was past midnight, the clerk at the front desk was very friendly. I noticed that there was also room service, which was available 24 hours a day. Not bad.

Joe got us a suite, paying for it with his 'official Watcher -credit card'. That's about the only thing I miss from the time I was a Watcher, having the organization covering all the expenses.

I threw my bag into the bedroom that had a door leading out into the corridor as well as one to the living room. The others went to their rooms and I took a little tour around the suite, checking the mini-bar and the main bathroom before going to my room. I didn't bother to unpack. What was the point anyway? The clothes I usually wore didn't get wrinkled. I lay on the bed with my clothes on and I stared at the ceiling. Waiting for the knock on the door.

"Adam? May I come in?"

"Sure, Joe."

The door opened and my friend stepped in. He smiled when he saw me. "So, how are you handling this?"

"Just fine. I wish the Highlander wouldn't call me 'lad' all the time, but that's about all." I could live with it. I'd been called worse.

"I know it can be pretty irritating to listen to a person who thinks he's wiser just because he's older call you 'kid' all the time, so I can relate." Joe smirked.

Round one to the Watcher.

"What are you going to do tomorrow?"

I sat up. "That depends on what Kesti'll tell us."

My friend shook his head. "You know what he'll tell us. He'll give us the descriptions of the people who attacked Mac. Then Connor will go after them. What will you do?"

"I'll go with him." If the Highlander tried to leave me behind, I'd go on my own.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? He might find out who you are."

I smiled a cold little smile. "Then he'll find out."

"You really do..." Joe blinked and cleared his throat. "Need to get some sleep now. See you in the morning."

He sounded like he'd intended to say something else. "Joe? Is there something..."

"Nah. Just go to sleep, old man."

I wished him sweet dreams and watched him leave the room. I waited for a few minutes and then quietly slipped out of the door to the corridor.

After checking at the front desk to see which room I should go to, I rode the elevator to the third floor and broke into Duncan's room. I'd deduced that since it was the only hotel in town, my Highlander had stayed there too. What can I say, I'm a genius.

His room was clean, but that didn't mean anything. Even if someone had rummaged through his stuff, I was sure that the housekeeper would have cleared the mess. All his clothes were hanging neatly in the closet and there was a pile of books on the nightstand. There was nothing in the room to give me any clues about what had happened to him.

I stepped to the bed and raised the quilt.

The familiar black pajama pants were right under the pillow.

I sat on the bed, trying to calm myself. The receptionist had said that 'Mr. MacLeod' hadn't been in his room for two days. That sounded bad. Duncan wouldn't have called his cousin if whatever he'd found wasn't important, and it wasn't like my Highlander to leave on a quest without waiting for the man he'd invited here all the way from Scotland, or at least leaving him a message.

So he was most likely still held captive somewhere. I had to believe that. He was alive. I couldn't even think about the alternative.

I spent most of the night in Duncan's room. Somehow it seemed appropriate. After setting his alarm clock to wake me at six, so I could sneak back to my own room and maybe even grab a shower before my companions got up, I stripped. Wanting to feel the sheets with every inch of my skin, I threw my boxers on top of the pile of clothes on the floor.

The sheets hadn't been changed since my friend had last slept there, and a faint hint of Duncan's aftershave lingered on the pillowcase. I burrowed myself in the soft blankets and fell asleep in a few minutes.

The breakfast in the hotel restaurant was surprisingly tasty. After eating, we headed to the hospital. I waited with Connor outside Kesti's room, while Joe went in to find out just how badly the young Watcher was hurt. My friend had been worried sick ever since we woke up. He really cared for the people who worked with him. I respected that and wanted to give him a chance to get over the emotional stuff in private.

After about five minutes I decided that they'd had enough privacy and pushed the door open.

I'd met Tim Kesti a couple of times and he knew me as a Watcher and as a close friend of Joe's. He didn't look seriously injured and grinned at me when I entered the room.

"Hi, Adam. It's nice to see..." His face paled and he swallowed a few times. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that Connor had followed in right behind me. The young mortal was now in shock at personally meeting an Immortal.

Joe calmed Kesti down and soon the young man was in shape to tell us what had happened to Duncan.

The Watcher's story made me nauseous. Apparently some maniacal cult had kidnapped Duncan and taken him somewhere in the vast forest due East of Stoede. As if that wasn't bad enough, the cultists apparently didn't just kill people that annoyed them. They also beheaded them. Kesti's hypothesis was that the cultists had taken Duncan to teach them martial arts and I prayed that he was right.

Better that than being the next human sacrifice.

For some strange reason I had a really bad feeling about all this. Why did these things always have to happen to my Highlander? The man's a trouble-magnet. How on earth had he ever managed to pass puberty?

Connor looked horrified when Kesti finished his story and he excused himself. I concentrated on the feeling of his Presence and was relieved to feel that he hadn't gone far. I really didn't want to rescue two Scots from the 'Sons of Odin'.

When the door closed behind the Scot, Kesti leaned back against the pillows and a big grin spread on his face. "So that's Connor MacLeod. This is really awesome! I never dreamed I'd actually meet him someday."

"Yes, it's quite a shock to meet a living legend." Joe didn't even glance at me. "We have to go now, but I'll come to see you either later today or early tomorrow."

The young man noticed immediately that Joe didn't say 'we'. Smart kid. He raised a questioning eyebrow. "What about you, Adam? Are you gonna go somewhere?"

Thanks, Joe. "I'm going after the Highlander. I'm Watching him." In a way I had been for a long time now. Depending on which Highlander we were talking about, of course.

"Oh, man. I wish I could go with you." The kid sounded wistful.

That's youth. As an older and... As an older guy I wished I was back in Seacouver with Duncan. I didn't need another adventure, I'd had more than my share of them centuries ago. Excitement usually lead to people getting killed. Compared to that, a little boredom wasn't all that bad.

Joe patted Kesti's hand . "You'll have your chances later. Just concentrate on getting better now."

"I will, Mr. Dawson." The boy waved his hand at me. "I want to hear all about it when you get back. Good luck."

When we got back to the hotel, we stopped at the front desk and Joe paid for both our room and Duncan's for another week. Then we took the elevator to the fourth floor to our suite.

I threw my coat onto the couch and went to get a glass of water. Connor just stood in the center of the room, looking like a thundercloud.

Joe looked from him to me and sighed. "Well, at least we know now that it's not about an Immortal. Even if the cult is lead by one, from the sound of Tim's story, the cultists really believe in something. That in a way makes their headquarters..."

"Holy ground!" Connor interrupted him. "You're right. And if they wanted to kill Duncan, why take him with them? Why not just kill him here?"

"That doesn't sound right. What Kesti said about the ritualistic murders, axes and beheadings, sounds familiar, like I've read about it somewhere." I hate it when I don't remember something that important.

I paced around the room, trying to remember why all this sounded so familiar and muttering dark things about people who use religion that way. 'Sons of Odin'? Please! Wouldn't a cult named after some local deity or spirit have been more original?

"I think you two should stay here. I'll go and get Duncan." The Scot suggested, his voice indicating that he was perfectly aware that the conversation wasn't over yet.

I didn't want to fight about it again. Instead of arguing with him, I just looked at him calmly. "Joe can stay. I'll come with you."

That damn child laughed in my face. "Look, lad. It's going to be a hard trip to the cultists' place. I don't need you to slow me down. Trust me, I can do this on my own."

"You can't stop me. If you try to go alone, I'll just follow you. Besides, you don't have the time to argue with me. Even if Kesti's right and the cultists took Duncan to use him as an instructor, we still don't have time to waste. If your cousin refuses to co-operate, they will kill him."

Connor just glared at me.

Joe headed towards the bathroom. "I think Adam's right. I'll stay here with Tim. You two go and find Duncan."

The Highlander looked like he could strangle us both. I think that if Joe weren't there, he would have killed me without hesitation. Then his eyes widened and he shivered. "Dawson! Is there someone Watching me now?"

I grinned. Hadn't he thought about that before? He looked so worried, I almost expected him to kneel and look under the bed. You never knew where a Watcher was hiding.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Oh, nothing." I was certain he wouldn't see it as funny as I did. "To answer your question, no, there's no one Watching you at the moment. Except for Joe, of course. You can be sure that there won't be anyone trailing us to the woods." I knew Joe had arranged it so that Connor's Watcher had remained in Seacouver, and hoped the Scot hadn't realized that in a way, I was still a member of the secret organization. That would make him start whining again.

Connor glared at me and then sighed. "How are you on a horse? Can you ride?"

Joe was just coming out of the bathroom and he froze as he heard Connor's words. I could hear him gasp.

I walked to him and touched his shoulder. "Relax, Joe. It's all right." What did he think? That I'd grab my sword and scream I was Death? I gave Joe my most Adam Pierson-ish smile and saw him answer it a bit hesitantly.

Connor was waiting for my answer with a really amusing glint of hope shining in his eyes. I nodded curtly. "I can ride."

"Then we should go now." He didn't sound all that enthusiastic.

I grabbed my sword and headed towards the door. The Highlander motioned me to go first, obviously not trusting me enough to turn his back on me. That didn't bode well for our little hunt.

Joe cleared his throat. "Gentlemen."

"What?"

He was chuckling. "Shouldn't you take some spare clothes with you?"

Damn. I felt heat rising to my face and was glad that I wasn't the only one who had acted before thinking. Connor and I grabbed our bags and then we all walked to the elevator.

Joe asked for advice from the hotel doorman and then we drove to the outskirts of Stoede to see a man about a horse. Well, horses actually.

Henderson, the man who ran the stable, looked happy to have paying customers. He scratched his beard when Joe explained him what we needed and for how long. Then the two men haggled over the price we'd pay for renting two horses and all the equipment needed. Henderson tucked the bills into his pocket and then escorted us to the long stable to see the mounts.

I looked around, breathing in the familiar scent of hay and manure. No perfume could ever match that.

The horses all looked fine. Not extraordinary, but fine. I was about to go to a brown mare, when I heard a snort coming from the far end of the stable. I looked at the creature who had made that arrogant sound and felt my eyes widen at the sight.

He was just perfect! It was quite obvious that he was by far the strongest one in the whole stable. His gray coat was in a magnificent shape and his mane was well trimmed. When he moved a little, I could see strong muscles flexing underneath his skin. Beautiful, just beautiful.

I walked closer to the horse and saw that his eyes were burning with contempt and intelligence. Oh, yes, that brought back memories. "I'll take this one!"

"That Ned is one mean bastard. He don't let people onto his back." Henderson's voice was doubtful.

That sounded interesting. "I can handle him."

Of course Connor tried to talk some sense to me. "Pierson. You should listen to the man."

I didn't pay any attention to him and turned to Henderson. "Could I have a saddle, please?" I didn't actually need one. In my time, we used only blankets, but I had to admit that a saddle and stirrups really made a difference.

The bearded man gestured towards a corner and I picked up a saddle.

Ned looked at me suspiciously as I laid the saddle on his back and fastened the saddle belt. I put the reins on him and then walked him out of the stable, keeping an eye on him all the time. I wasn't fooled for a moment by his suddenly calm mannerism. I knew that the horse was just conserving all his energy until I tried to mount him. He most definitely wasn't stupid.

The others followed us to the yard, but I ignored them. I stared into Ned's eyes for a moment and muttered softly, "Let's see what tricks you know, my friend." I smiled at the arrogant look in his eyes and walked to his side.

After thinking what would be the best way to mount him, I decided to use the element of surprise. Instead of giving him the chance to dance away from me as I tried to haul myself to the saddle, I just jumped to his back.

I took a good grip on the saddle horn and it didn't take long for me to slide my feet into the stirrups. Ned reacted as I expected and tried to get me off his back. I let him show off for a few minutes and then kicked him in the ribs. That stopped him from jumping. He tried another tactic, turning to look at me and baring his teeth. Then he tried to bite my leg.

Dear Gods, what a horse! I laughed and slapped Ned in the ears with the reins. Not hard, just to let him know that biting me would be a very bad idea.

So now he knew that I wouldn't be all that easy to get rid of and that I wouldn't tolerate any horseplay.

He went completely still. I lay a hand on his neck and could feel him trembling a little. This was it. Either he'd acknowledge me as a winner and start to behave, or I'd have to settle to that brown mare. I didn't have time to play with him.

He didn't disappoint me. I felt the trembling stop and nudged him with my feet. Ned began to walk towards the road. The wind blew the sound of Henderson's laughter towards me. I knew that if I glanced back, I'd see Connor MacLeod gaping at me with his mouth open. That thought brought a wide grin to my face.

I was exhilarated, and could sense something akin to it in Ned, too. With a reputation of a 'mean bastard', the horse didn't probably get the chance to really gallop through the forest all that often. I leaned forward a little and he added some speed immediately.

There were some wide paths in the forest near the stables and we followed them, going around Henderson's and then galloped back.

Ned seemed to enjoy the ride and so did I. It was wonderful to have a good horse for a mission like this. One less thing to worry about.

When we returned to the stable, I saw Connor step into the car and drive away. I jumped off Ned's back and glared at Joe. "Where's he going?"

"Relax. He'll be back." Joe gestured to the bag the Scot had left with him. "He went to buy you some supplies."

Good. There were some things I needed to talk with Joe about in private.

"I really meant it when I said that this whole thing sounds familiar. You might want to check the archives for cases where the ordinary people suddenly turned into head chopping savages." It had happened before and every time it had been the ploy of an Immortal who was either too much of a coward or too lazy to do his --or her-- own killing. Duncan wasn't the only person in Stoede who knew martial arts, but he was probably the only Immortal. It was too obvious to be a coincidence.

"You mean other than that thing with Larca?"

Larca who? I had a good memory, but even though I'd read my Highlander's chronicles more than once and I probably knew more about him than anyone, beside Joe of course, I wasn't exactly the walking Duncan MacLeod Encyclopedia. Just mentioning a name like that didn't really tell me anything. "Dazzle me with your memory, Joe. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"He convinced some people in Peru in the 1830's that he was their head taking God."

Oh, yes. That thing in Peru. But that was different. Those people had believed in their decapitating God for ages. "No. I'm talking about cases where people start taking heads without any good reason or cultural background."

My friend nodded. "Anything else?"

"Actually there is." I didn't know how to say it without sounding melodramatic, so I just blurted it out. "If I don't come back, I want you to finish the Methos-chronicles."

Joe's mouth fell open. "Are you sure?"

No, I wasn't. But the Watchers were right about one thing. Too much history had been lost. After all, that was the reason I kept my own journals, too. Maybe there was also a hint of selfishness in my gesture. If I died, I would be remembered anyway. Why not let them remember me the way I really was? And besides, if I was dead, it didn't really matter whether or not he wrote a chapter about me into Duncan's chronicle.

Or maybe he'd spend the rest of his life tracking down my journals. That was all right by me, too. It would give him a reason to go on. If I didn't come back, then Duncan probably wouldn't be alive anymore either. I'd seen too many Watchers lose interest in everything after their Immortals died. I didn't want that to happen to Joe.

"Yes."

"I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything. After all, this is just in case I don't come back."

Joe looked like he wanted to cry. "Methos..."

I grabbed his arm, a warriors' embrace. Then I stepped forward and really hugged him. "I didn't say it to worry you. I will come back." After patting his back, I let go of him.

"Thank you." He took a deep breath. "Thanks for trusting me."

This was getting too gloomy. I didn't want Connor to find the two of us bawling when he got back, and forced my usual cynical smile on my lips. "Let's go find out if Henderson could spare us a map. Riding around in circles for the next two months won't help Duncan."

The Highlander returned and we packed all the stuff he had bought into saddlebags. Then I showed Connor our map. Joe reached to his bag and then handed both me and the Scot a gun. I took it, even though I didn't really need another one.

Connor shook Henderson's hand and then grinned at Joe. "Wait for us at the hotel. If we're not back in two weeks, go back to Seacouver and finish our chronicles."

My friend paled. I guess that made him think about our earlier conversation. He grabbed my arm. "Take care of him, Adam. Don't lose your heads. And bring Duncan back with you."

"Survival is what I do best. Don't worry, Joe. We'll be back." I had no intention of getting killed by some idiot hillbillies.

Joe looked a little better and then he nodded. "See you in two weeks. I'll stay at the hotel." Then he turned away and walked to the car.

I waved at him and then turned to Connor. "Let's go."

I was glad Connor wasn't one of those people who need to talk all the time, especially when they have nothing to say, but some distraction would have made the journey much easier. I hadn't let myself dwell on the gravity of the situation before, but now that I had nothing else to focus on, I was beginning to really worry.

Duncan was a very good friend of mine, and I didn't want anything to happen to him.

I held that thought to keep the panic in check. Repeating that sentence dozens of times, making it something like a mantra. I was going to help a friend. There was no reason to feel cold inside. Duncan's just a friend.

We'd started the journey after noon, so we didn't get very far that day. Just before sunset Connor reined in and gestured towards a small clearing. It was a perfect place for a little camp. I took care of the horses, making sure they were all right, and then got us some firewood, letting the Highlander prepare us some food.

Soon we were sitting by a fire, eating a little overcooked --all right, burned-- dinner.

I laid my sleeping bag on the ground and sat on it with my sword in hand. Even though I hadn't used it the whole day, it needed polishing. It would have been a very bad idea to let the blade get rusty. If I'd known that we'd make a little riding trip into the forest, I would have brought a scabbard for it from Seacouver. Thank goodness I'd left my second sword at the hotel. Less cleaning.

I saw Connor looking at my Ivanhoe and offered it to him for closer scrutiny. He grabbed the hilt and then swung it a couple of times. He handed it back and then sighed. "Wonderful tool. You shouldn't trust another Immortal with it, though. I could have done something unpleasant with it."

Maybe it was time to teach him a little lesson. I was getting used to him calling me 'lad' and his occasional smugness just amused me, but I really didn't want him to think I was an idiot. That thought might cost him his life later on. He had to trust in my ability to take care of myself.

Besides, if he was anything like his cousin, he might start to lecture me, and I really hated that. "You mean, you could have tried to do something unpleasant."

Connor laughed. "Whatever. But you can't deny that you would've been quite helpless unarmed." He nodded at my saddlebag, where my gun was. Well, at least the one Joe had given me.

Grinning, I pulled a sharp little knife from under my coat. "Unarmed?"

He frowned. "You have any more of those?"

"You don't expect me to reveal all my secrets to you, do you?" I didn't think he'd like to see my whole armament. I didn't want him to start thinking I was a homicidal maniac. I wasn't. Not anymore.

He shook his head, not saying anything. I could see him looking troubled, though.

"You're worrying that I might do something stupid. Don't. You're Duncan's cousin, and that means that I couldn't take your head any more than I could take his." I looked him in the eye. "Unless you force me to." I hoped he would take it as a warning, not as a threat.

"I won't." I saw the solemn look on his face and knew he had understood.

After my sword was once again perfectly clean, I checked our position from the map. Henderson had marked an area where 'some foolish brats were makin' a damn mess', obviously the place we were looking for, and I estimated we'd reach the edge of that area by noon the next day. I shared that little information with the Scot, mumbling something about my Boy Scout days being useful when he wanted to know how I had gotten that timeframe.

He smiled a little patronizing smile and I almost expected him to pat my head. His arrogance was so amusing, I didn't even feel insulted. Some older Immortals were like that, acting like they were omniscient just because of their age.

I knew better than that.

I stretched out and lay down on my sleeping bag. Connor obviously wasn't the kind of man who was interested in small talk in a situation like this, so it was better just to go to sleep.

Or at least try to.

The next day it rained. I slouched in the saddle and was starting to feel miserable. The rain didn't seem to bother my companion very much, but that didn't surprise me. I knew what the weather was like in Scotland. Cold rain and mist. That's the main reason I don't spend that much time in the Highlands, even though it's breathtakingly beautiful up there.

We didn't talk very much and even when we did, Connor was just barely civil. I knew how he felt. Every mile we traveled brought us closer to Duncan and I was scared shitless of what we'd find.

I couldn't stop worrying. I tried not to think about Duncan and when I did think about him, I tried to think of him as a friend, just like the day before. That didn't work. Once I had let the terror surface in my consciousness, I had no chance of getting rid of it. I decided I liked that rain shower after all. Connor would probably think that I was just trying to squint my eyes in order to see better, when in reality I was grimacing in pain.

Him calling me 'lad' was also a relief. I could look as frightened as I felt, and he'd just think it was because of my 'youth'. To tell the truth, I didn't feel all that old at the moment.

The rain ended, making it easier to see what was ahead. I was still dribbling wet, feeling like a drowned rat, when I heard human voices coming from the direction we were going towards.

Connor had obviously heard them too. He reined in and I followed his example. We dismounted and I was glad that the ground was damp. Less chance to step on a dry twig and alert whoever was ahead. I tied Ned's reins to a tree, next to the Highlander's horse, and then we sneaked towards the sound.

Three men were standing in a small clearing. By the look of them, I knew they were members of that cult. These phony religious orders always have some kind of ridiculous uniform or color codes for their members. The black coats with really badly embroidered axes on the back didn't worry me, but the rifles they were holding did.

We couldn't just sneak around them and then continue on our journey. Even if we didn't need to get the exact location of the cult's headquarters, it would have been foolish to leave enemies behind us. They had to be eliminated quickly before they could make any noise to alert other cultists that might be near by.

I wasn't sure how Connor wanted to handle the situation and I didn't have time to ask. Slipping behind him, I circled to the left. I ran in the shadows of the trees until I reached my destination, a huge oak that was at the edge of the clearing. There were no bushes around it, so I could make my move when the time was right.

If the cultists were supposed to stand guard, they were doing an unbelievably bad job of it. I saw Connor's face peeking through the bush and couldn't believe that the cultists didn't notice him. The Highlander stared straight at me, looking furious. He began to move closer to the clearing and I raised my hand to my ear. I hoped he'd interpret it as a sign to listen. That would be the only thing he'd obey. We needed some information. And as soon as there was an opportunity, I'd get it.

Not by listening, though.

One of the men laid down his rifle and stretched. It was a perfect opportunity and I was moving before I could even think. In a few seconds I had killed two cultists and had neatly broken the remaining one's gun. The man pulled out a big knife and raised his eyebrows.

I heard Connor scrambling out of the bushes and warned him, "Stay right there, MacLeod. I'll handle this." I was amazed when he obeyed me.

The cultist sneered. "Yeah, Mac. You stay right there and maybe I won't kill you like I'll kill this little asshole."

He was really amusing! "Give me your best shot."

I stepped to the side as he lunged at me and then grabbed his hand. The one that was holding the knife. A swift yank, and his wrist snapped, the knife flying to the ground. I kicked his feet out from under him and made sure that he didn't catch the knife as he landed on his back. If every cultist was as 'good' a fighter as he was, we'd have no problem getting rid of them all.

The cultist froze as he felt his own blade at his throat.

Connor walked closer to us. "Now what?"

I answered the man lying beneath me. "Now, you will tell us just exactly where your camp is and how many people will be there."

He spat on me. I've always hated it when people do that. Disgusting! "I won't tell you nuthin'!"

"Oh, yes you will." Ignoring the spittle that was running down my cheek, I got a better hold on the knife. Then I remembered that we weren't alone. "MacLeod. Stay away from this."

I didn't turn to see if he watched or not. Probably not.

It was so easy to become the monster again. If I'd had the time to think about it, the transition would have scared the hell out of me. The veneer of Adam Pierson and those who had lived before him slid off me, and what was left knew no such thing as mercy.

Calmly calculating what would hurt the man most without killing him, I began to inflict on him as much pain as I could. The knife was very sharp and I didn't have to use much strength to cut him deep. I knew just the right places to slice, stab and carve. After all, I'd had centuries of practise. Even though I hadn't done it for a long, long time, I was still a master at it. Just like riding a bicycle.

Seeing all the blood didn't make me squeamish at all, but the cultist wasn't as unaffected. His eyes bulged as I held the knife up after every cut, letting the little crimson drops fall onto his face. Psychological terror was even more efficient than physical pain.

I made sure the man didn't make too much noise and when he finally decided to tell me what I wanted to hear, he had only the strength to whisper.

"Our house... it's a little over a day's ride from here. South-West."

"How many men?" My voice sounded odd in my ears.

He trembled. "Ten. About ten."

The knife sliced off his left ear. He took a deep breath and I squeezed his throat, preventing him from screaming. "You're lying. I know there are more."

"No! We all go there on the Sabbaths. Other times we stay at home." The cultist convulsed and wet himself.

By that I knew he was telling the truth. If his fear was greater than his control over his bodily functions, he wasn't in a condition to lie. "Any more guards between Stoede and your house?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Why? Why did you take my friend?"

"Me and a few others were sent to get us someone who knew karate and stuff. The guy refused to come with us, even when we offered him money. He had it coming."

He'd been one of the attackers? He had beaten an innocent young man into a condition to need a hospital stay, and then dared to touch my friend? He'd laid his filthy hands on Duncan? I squeezed the handle of the knife so hard my knuckles were white and growled something incomprehensible. I wanted to rip his head off with my bare hands, but was able to control my actions. Barely.

"Who gave you the orders? Who sent you to attack my friend?"

His eyes glazed over and I felt him shudder. "He got what he deserved! He and that brat who tried to intervene. No one messes with the Sons of Odin. After we're finished with that long haired muscleman, his head'll be on our altar."

The sweet scent of blood had already made me dizzy and the mental image of Duncan's severed head made me snap. I raised the knife and stabbed the cultist in the gut. My left hand crushed his windpipe, but I didn't even realize he was probably already dead. I just kept slashing at him, wallowing in blood and sending his entrails flying all around us. I stabbed and stabbed him and when I finally finished, I shivered.

I had just killed a man in cold blood. And I felt good!

Then I wasn't in the forest anymore. I was somewhere far away, both in miles and centuries, staring at a field full of bloody corpses in front of me. The screams of my victims still echoing in my head. Smelling blood, sweat, urine. The combination that meant only one thing. Death. I felt the warmth of the blood as I wiped my hand on my cheek, marking my face. It was the oldest victory sign in the world, telling everyone that I had won and that there were no enemies left alive.

Everything was quiet, there weren't even scavengers moving in the field. The air seemed to be still. No wind, no noises from the birds, nothing.

There was absolutely nothing.

Then the silence was broken by a voice. It was coming from the distance, but even if it had been yelled into my ear, I wouldn't have been concerned. Whoever was making that noise wasn't a threat. Just a person who had just been scared almost to death.

It was getting louder, and even though I tried to ignore it, my curiosity got the better of me and I concentrated on the voice.

Someone was calling a name, but it had no meaning to me. There was no Adam Pierson on that battlefield. And even if there had been, he was now dead. I was the only one alive there. But there was something familiar about that voice and it repeated that name over and over again until I finally remembered that it meant me.

"Adam?"

I shook my head, trying to focus on the present and looked at the body in front of me. "I'm fine." The need to run to the nearest bush and vomit came, and then passed as quickly as it had come. A few deep breaths later I was able to unclench my fist and let go of the knife. I didn't intend on taking it with me, but I still wiped it clean out of habit before climbing to my feet.

After recovering my weapons, I looked at my companion. His expression was a mix of horror and repulsion. Couldn't blame him.

Ned shied away when I approached him. I realized that my clothes were soaked in blood and pulled my coat off, folding it so that it didn't make a mess, and shoved it into the saddlebag. It helped a little and I was able to mount my horse. I glanced back over my shoulder to see that Connor was following me.

We rode off in silence.

It was chilly to ride without my coat, but I didn't really pay attention to the weather. I tried not to think about what had... No it hadn't just happened. What I had done. There was no point in worrying about it. It was already in the past.

Right before sunset, Connor noticed a small stream nearby and reined in. "I think we should set our camp here."

His words sounded a lot like a question and I nodded, feeling a little disappointed in myself. He wouldn't have asked my opinion on something like that before what had happened earlier today. Damn. It wasn't like me to let my fake identity slip off like that. There was no way in hell that he'd believe in the 'geeky little professor' -routine anymore.

I decided that I wouldn't offer any information to him. He'd have to ask. I waited for those questions while I washed my bloody clothes and then brushed the horses. When I finished those chores, I ate the beans he'd heated, not even tasting the food.

Connor was glancing at me from the corner of his eye, looking worried, but still he didn't open his mouth. By the time the first stars appeared in the sky I gave up. "Go ahead."

He looked confused. "What?"

What did he think? "Ask."

"Did he tell you anything?"

He asked that? I felt a little embarrassed that I hadn't already told him what the cultist had said, but mostly I felt relief. If the Scot had seen through my little disguise, his first words would have been a challenge. He was so like Duncan in that aspect. Brave, but impatient.

I laughed a little. "Oh, yes. He told me everything I wanted to know. The cultists have a house less than a day's ride from here, due South- West. There are about ten men there all the time. The others are there on and off. The only time they all gather there together is on their holy days."

"Anything else?" He sounded like a big burden had just been lift off his shoulders.

"He told me that the three of them were the only guards between Stoede and their house." That was really idiotic. "Sloppy work! He also said he was one of the men who took Mac and put Kesti to hospital." I thought we should have the argument about now. "He got what he deserved."

He didn't take the bait. "Did he say why they took Duncan?"

"Kesti was right. They needed someone to teach them martial arts. At least we know now this has nothing to do with his Immortality." I stretched, feeling exhausted. If I yawned like that again, I'd break my yaws.

Connor smiled at me. "It's been a rough day, I think we should get some sleep now. The next few days will be hard enough without one of us falling asleep in the saddle."

"What? No accusations? No judgmental attitude?" I couldn't believe it! Apparently the cousins weren't as similar as I'd always thought. "No brooding?"

"You've got the wrong MacLeod. As far as I'm concerned, you were right. They got exactly what they deserved." He sounded like he really meant it.

"So, being a Boy Scout doesn't run in the family? That's definitely good news." Even though 'family' was a relative concept with our kind, the two Highlanders had been raised in the same area around the same time. Both of them had been driven away from their homes and Connor had been Duncan's first teacher. Clansmen, a family.

He began to laugh. Then he patted my shoulder. "Go to sleep, lad. Tomorrow will be a rough day."

That night I had a little wrestling match with my old demons and almost managed to behead Connor MacLeod while I was fighting the ghosts of the past. Apparently he couldn't just stand by and listen to my screams and as a reward for waking me up, he got my sword on his neck. He looked at me in a strange way when he returned to his sleeping bag. I guess he was a little baffled by my actions. He wasn't the only one.

I waited for him to start breathing evenly and then sighed. I had some hard work to do. It had been months since my last nightmare, and I needed to sort out my thoughts. It wasn't very surprising to have a nightmare, but for something like this... I had thought I'd left those regrets behind.

A man without a conscience? Maybe. Maybe not.

I went through what I'd done in my mind, remembering every act, every thought. Yes. I had enjoyed killing that man. But for a very good reason, not just for the joy of killing. He'd hurt the most precious thing in my life and he had to pay for it. That made a difference. I didn't care what the philosophers said. Sometimes revenge was sweet. Wallowing in remorse was totally unnecessary. It wouldn't change what had happened or how I'd felt.

I slept the rest of the night peacefully.

Waking up at the break of dawn, the first thing I did was to check the horses. Ned and the other one --I never did get his name-- were vital to our mission. I inspected their hooves and then walked them to the stream to drink. After that I grabbed some breakfast. It didn't matter that the bread was a little stale. If I'd been able to eat Connor's cooking, I could eat anything.

Since I didn't want to shake the Highlander up, I made some extra noise while eating, fussing around and dropping a few logs on the ground next to the sleeping man. My strategy worked, and soon Connor got up, glaring at me. He looked nervous and paced around the camp while I finished eating. He shook his head when I offered him some of the bread.

I packed the food away and then got to my feet. "Let's get this over with."

He looked definitely annoyed.

We rode in silence for a while. I realized that we didn't even have a plan and asked Connor what he wanted us to do when we got to the cult's HQ. I didn't mind improvising, but it was always good to have some kind of a plan.

He looked a little embarrassed and then just shrugged. "We get in, find Duncan and get out."

I couldn't help laughing. There had been a time when I didn't go to the bathroom without a plan and now I was supposed to improvise on something as important as this? But then again, the best plan I could think of without knowing the area better was; 'secure the premises, locate our target and withdraw with it', which was exactly what Connor had said. "Well, the simple plans usually work best."

I didn't even notice that I'd added the 'now if only he's still alive' out loud before I saw the shocked look on his face. I'd tried very hard not to think of what would happen when we got to the cultists' place. I had to be calm in order to function and I'd just made sure that the fear of Duncan being already dead was now the only thing I could think about.

Berating myself silently, I continued following Connor.

The cultists' house was big and very expensive-looking. I wondered who really owned the place. By that time I was certain that all this cult- nonsense was organized by someone much older, but not necessarily wiser, than the cultists I'd killed. There were about half a dozen Immortals that were insane enough to make up something like this, but I wasn't exactly sure which one it was. That's why I didn't mention anything about it to Connor. He was nervous enough as things were.

I was also fairly certain that whoever was behind all this would not be at their HQ. Cowards like that never put themselves in the line of fire.

Unless of course the whole reason for the cult was to protect their leader. Well, we'd find that out soon.

After tying the horses securely to a tree, we sneaked closer to the house. I scanned the area, feeling calmer now that I could feel another Presence. It was the only one I could sense coming from the big house and because it was unnaturally faint, I guessed it was Duncan's. He was probably dying.

We had no time to waste.

My little knives came very handy again. There were two cultists leaning against a tree, talking to each other, and I didn't even have to put much energy in aiming at them. They were just holding the rifles loosely in their hands, so I didn't have to worry that the final muscle spasms would make the fingers squeeze the trigger. After pulling the knives off the 'guards', I ran towards the house.

Connor was already at the door, pulling it open. He stumbled back as four cultists charged towards him, but recovered quickly, gutting one of them just as my knife dropped another one. One of the remaining two ran towards me and I simply ran him through. A big clumsy ax isn't a good weapon when you're up against a swordsman who knows how to use his tool. The Highlander sent the last one's head flying and then we ran into the house.

I could only feel Connor's Presence now and prayed that Duncan's Quickening wouldn't hit one of us next.

It didn't. We got into a big living room just in time. The mortal in charge and three of his followers were staring at my Highlander's dead body, chanting something off-key.

All four of them looked shocked when we barged in.

I just glanced at Duncan. He was all bloody and his limbs were twisted into unnatural positions. The bastards had beaten him to death and had apparently continued beating and kicking him even when there was no life left in him. I moved my gaze off him quickly. I needed to focus on what I was doing.

The three of the cultists were trying to get up from the floor where they'd been kneeling, and I raised my gun. I wasn't as good with a gun as I was with the sword and those little knives, but definitely good enough to make each one of those little idiots crumple down with a round bullet-hole in the middle of his forehead.

Connor reached for his gun and then froze. I thought about shooting the cult leader too, but realized that it would also kill Duncan. The ax the man was holding would chop my Highlander's head off, if it slipped out of his fingers.

"Too late. You're too late, I'm too late, we're all too late..." The cultist drooled and began to cry. "We're all doomed. He'll come for us and we'll all go to hell."

I circled around the men, trying not to step on the bodies. Keeping an eye on the ax all the time.

For a second I thought that maybe I could talk us out of the situation. If the cult leader really was as insane as I thought, he could be persuaded to put the ax down. After all, I had been a 'God' before. Acting like a messenger of one wouldn't be a problem.

Then the idiot wearing the robe stopped crying. "No! Not too late! Not to me! Oh, Great One take..."

Blood was pounding in my ears. He didn't need to finish it. I had heard that sentence a thousand times in dozens of countries. Just a few seconds before the sacrificial knife drank blood. I didn't even have to look up. I knew that the ax was moving.

It was a moment of perfect clarity. In those few seconds I just stood there, staring at the ax, I realized exactly what would happen next.

Duncan was going to die. That was unavoidable. I knew Connor was too far away from him to change anything and I was in a wrong position to use any of my weapons safely. We'd have to see the man we had come all this way to rescue die right in front of us. We'd have to avenge his death and then ride back to Stoede to tell Joe that he'd have to be reassigned. The news would crush the man. He'd spent almost half of his life Watching my Highlander.

Then we'd go back... No, I would never go to Seacouver again. I'd never again contact any of the Watchers or the few Immortals Duncan had introduced me to. And I'd never befriend another Immortal again. It was too painful in the long run. I'd probably go to Sumatra or some other tropical island and go on living as I always had. Nothing else would matter but survival. There wouldn't be any more distractions, just the sand and the sea.

I'd have some peace and quiet and I'd spend the rest of my... miserable existence alone, hating Duncan for dying, hating Connor for being just as helpless as I had been, and most of all, hating myself for just standing there, watching my Highlander die.

My sword went flying to the floor as I jumped between Duncan and the ax. I felt the blade hit my left arm and screamed with pain. But it was also a scream of victory.

Even a severed arm would be a small price to pay for not losing what was left of my soul.

Something hit the floor next to me and then Connor was kneeling beside me. I looked up to see what had happened and was relieved to see that he'd managed to get rid of the cult leader.

"How's the hand?"

I couldn't move it, but as I shifted a little, I saw that it wasn't completely cut off. Thank Gods! I was amazed to still be conscious, though. The wound was bleeding hard and I was beginning to feel nauseous. "It's still with me." Thankfully the Scot didn't ask if it hurt. That question would have cost him his teeth.

Connor got up. I didn't bother to follow him with my gaze. It was hard enough to keep my breakfast down. He helped me to my feet and I bit through my lower lip as I jostled my left arm. The Scot ripped a piece of cloth from one of the ridiculous robes and then tied my arm to my side. I knew that keeping it immobile would diminish the pain and help the healing, but the actual bandaging hurt so damn much that I couldn't appreciate his gesture at the moment.

He moved around the room while I tried to stop sobbing. I wiped my face with my sleeve and then took the swords Connor was offering to me. I only realized that one of them was Duncan's katana when we were outside and I was clumsily tying them to my saddle with my good hand.

Connor carried his cousin outside. He staggered to his horse and lifted Duncan up, in front of the saddle. I looked at Ned and then lifted my leg to the stirrup. He seemed to realize that I was hurt and stood still, so I could mount him. I patted him when I reached for the reins and then winced. As the initial shock was wearing off, even breathing seemed to cause more pain.

My wound had just barely began to heal. Damn. It had to be more serious than I'd thought.

Even though I knew that something in the house might have given us more information about the cult and its leaders, I nudged Ned with my feet and we followed the Scots back into the forest. I didn't really care who was behind it all at the moment.

The only thing I could think of was that I had risked my head to save Duncan. I had voluntarily let that maniac hit me with a goddamn ax!

And I'd do it again. Even if the next time I wouldn't be able to raise my arm to protect my neck. But that was ridiculous! It went against everything I was.

I thought about it. If the situation had been less hectic, things might have happened quite differently. The shock of seeing the young man's life threatened had been a huge incentive to my actions. My act, that looked like the culmination of selflessness, was in reality one of the most selfish things I had ever done.

I could live without Duncan MacLeod. Of course I could. But I didn't want to. Didn't want to be the man I was without him.

Ned's gait changed and I realized that I had almost let go of the reins. I grabbed them more firmly and then shifted slightly in the saddle. It was a relief to be distracted from thinking about Duncan and my idiocy. Shoving all thoughts of my Highlander away from my mind, I concentrated on riding.

The main shock didn't hit me for a few hours. When it did, I was shivering in the saddle, biting my lip to hold the sobs inside. I couldn't stop thinking about how close I'd been to seeing Duncan die.

Worse yet, I would probably have gotten his Quickening since I'd been closer to him than his cousin had been. The idea of his whole being rushing through my mind in violent bursts of energy made me nauseous. That was definitely not the way I wanted him with me for the rest of my life.

I barely noticed it when Connor reined in and dismounted. It amazed me to see that we were back in our camp.

The Highlander laid his cousin down and looked around. "I'll gather some wood. You'd better sit here with Duncan, in case he wakes up."

I couldn't say anything. I couldn't even look at the young man, and turned to Ned instead. When I began to fumble the saddlebag open, I had no idea what I was looking for until my fingers touched a plastic bottle.

Connor left the camp just in time. My inner trembling changed into a full body shaking and I grabbed the water bottle and a handkerchief, hurrying to Duncan before my knees gave in.

I washed his face, thanking every single God I'd ever believed in, or even heard of, that he was alive. I felt tears starting to fall, but didn't care. All that mattered was that he was alive. I was alive. I leaned down to kiss his forehead, whispering something to him over and over again, without even recognizing the words. And the words didn't matter. The sentiment was the same, no matter the language.

When I had wiped the last trace of blood from Duncan's face, I sat there for a while, stroking his hair. I wasn't thinking about anything. I just enjoyed the rare chance of holding him close.

The faint feeling of his Presence made me move away from him and I walked to the edge of the clearing. I didn't know if I would be able to control myself while looking into those chocolate brown eyes.

I went to lean against a tree and tried to calm down. Now that everything was all right again, I could finally relax.

Connor walked into the clearing just as the younger Scot began to stir. I couldn't see the look on Duncan's face from where I was standing, but if it was anything like Connor's expression, I'd call it radiant.

My Highlander's voice was full of confusion and wonder as he sat up and saw his cousin. "Connor? What are you doing here? And where exactly is 'here'?"

"We got you away from the 'Sons of Odin'. They were just about to use a big ax on your neck when we arrived."

"Oh, yes. I remember. So you saved my life once again. Thank you, cousin."

"Don't thank just me." Connor nodded towards me and smiled. "I couldn't have done it without him."

Duncan followed his cousin's gaze and when he saw me he tensed. "What are you doing here?"

What did he think? 'I was in the neighborhood and decided to stop by and see how you're doing.' "Nice to see you too, Highlander."

He turned back to Connor. "You didn't have to bring him with you."

So he was taking all his anger and frustration out on me for some reason. Wonderful. Why on earth had I ever expected some gratitude?

Squeezing my hands into fists, I forced myself to just breathe calmly instead of grabbing his throat and throttling him. Gods, he could be so irritating!

After the shock I'd just experienced, I wasn't exactly in the mood for being Duncan MacLeod's personal whipping boy. In a way his behavior was understandable, though. He'd been badly hurt and was now trying to deal with a myriad of emotions. Maybe he realized on some subconscious level that I could handle his anger and pain, unlike his hot headed cousin.

I could, and I would. After all, I'd done it before.

Duncan rubbed his hands together and then looked down at them. The sticky feeling must have alarmed him. I saw his whole body shudder and then he glanced back at me. His expression was full of disgust as he surveyed the mess that had once been a grey sweater.

Apparently the fact that I was literally covered with blood --his and my own-- didn't make the situation any better. He was about to say something when Connor cleared his throat.

"There's a small brook there, in case you want to go and wash. I could also get us something to eat..."

"I'll go and wash the blood off me. I'm not used to smelling like a walking slaughterhouse." My Highlander's voice indicated clearly that maybe some of us were.

I didn't have to fake the flinch. What had happened just yesterday was still too clear a memory. "Duncan..."

He turned his back on me and walked away. Connor followed him a few seconds later.

I went to my saddlebag and changed into a clean sweater. Flexing my hand, I grinned as it worked just as it was supposed to. At least something did.

Duncan's words hadn't hurt me. Not really. I knew that he'd been through hell these last few days and was now angry at the whole universe. I wasn't certain if Connor understood that though, and decided to go to the stream to see how they were doing.

I rolled up my bloody shirt and then squinted my eyes as my gaze met the first aid kit that Henderson had insisted we take with us. If Duncan felt hurt and humiliated, he might react well to the fact that someone else had also been injured at the hands of the cultists. I decided that it wouldn't do any harm, and pulled out some bandages.

The Scots probably wouldn't ask any questions about my arm. Duncan was too upset to think straight and Connor would probably just think that I was so young that my Quickening hadn't kicked in to heal it yet. That happened to some youngsters, who hadn't taken many heads. It was extremely rare, but it happened.

I hadn't been a doctor for decades, but I could still make a pretty good sling. I tied the ends of the white cloth behind my neck and then headed towards the stream.

I sneaked around a bush and then hid behind a tree. I had a wonderful view of the men talking, and I groaned as I saw how their discussion was proceeding.

Duncan lay on the ground, panting and looking at his angry cousin who still was clenching his fists. I heard Connor telling him about our search and then describing some of the details of the rescue. From this angle I could see Duncan quite clearly and the look on his face made me act. Letting one's emotions out was very good and healthy, but those damn Scots were both so far gone with their little fight that all they'd manage to do was to hurt each other.

And the last thing I wanted to see was Duncan getting hurt again.

"I hate to interrupt you two, but it's getting chilly here and I need some help with the firewood." I stepped out of the forest and stood still, staring at the two of them.

Connor turned around and grimaced. Then he took a few steps towards me. "You should take it easy, Adam. Let that hand heal."

"I'm fine. I don't need to rest." I didn't. I needed to make things better. I glanced at Duncan. "He needs it more than I do."

Duncan's reaction was predictable. He got to his feet and approached me. "I don't need you worrying about me, Adam. I'm a grown man, I don't need a knight in shining armor to rescue me. And even if I did..."

I wasn't sure what he was about to say, but whatever it was, it didn't matter. I saw that the only way to solve this damn mess was to goad him into a fight. A fight I could control. "I wouldn't qualify." I made my voice freezing. "I don't even know why I bother. Fine. You can't stand my presence? You get your wish. As soon as we get back in town, I'm out of your life!"

With that I turned around and walked back to the camp.

I hadn't planned it, but I realized now that only a physical fight would clear the air and since it was Duncan I was going to fight, I knew that a little wrestling match wouldn't be enough. However enjoyable it might be.

Duncan's katana was still tied to my saddle and I untied it and laid it on the ground. I was sure that he'd just grab it without any questions. Then I waited.

After a few minutes, he came storming out of the forest. "You're out of my life? What the hell did you mean by that?"

"Just what I said. If you don't want me around, I'm out of here."

"Don't be an idiot, Methos," he scoffed. "I never said I wanted you to leave!"

I just turned my back at him.

A hand grabbed my right shoulder. "I'm not finished yet!"

"Yes you are." I shrugged the hand off. "You're the most ungrateful son of a bitch and I'm through with you!"

"No, you're not! We'll never be through, Methos! Never!"

I froze for a moment, stunned by the vehemence in his voice, and then continued towards Ned, not even looking at Duncan.

As I had thought, that really got his attention. "Just where do you think you're going?"

"Away from you."

"No, you're not." He moved in between me and Ned. "You'll stay right here and listen to my apology. I was wrong. Most of the blood was yours, wasn't it?"

He called that an apology? "You can say and think whatever you want. I don't care. Have a nice life, MacLeod." I stepped to the side and he followed my move. I stepped back to the other way, and he mirrored it. It was almost like dancing.

Duncan snarled. "If you take one more step closer to that horse, I'll..."

Right on cue. "What? Kill me? Take my head? I don't think so! Now get the hell out of my way!"

He stepped away from me and I grabbed the reins. Then I felt the cold blade of his sword on my neck. I turned slowly back to Duncan. His expression was calm as he guided me farther from Ned. "You're not leaving!"

It was time to stop talking. "You'll have to kill me to make me stay."

"And the only way you're going to leave me is over my headless body." Always a gentleman. He grabbed my sword and handed it to me, obviously expecting me to decline it and forgive him.

I took the Ivanhoe and then jumped back, taking a swing at his blade. "Over your headless body it is."

He looked less shocked than I'd thought he would. I guess it was because of all the times we'd made a point by holding our blades at each other's neck. He lunged towards me and I parried his blade. Then I swung my sword, aiming at his belly. He jumped back, his eyes widening a little when he realized that I meant business. This wasn't an ordinary spat or a sparring match. I was fighting to win, using every single dirty trick I'd learned in five millennia.

Duncan was fighting with his heart, not his head, and I was able to win quite easily. It was amazing what regular exercise could do. I made it look like I had to work hard to defeat him, though. I wasn't trying to rip away the last shreds of his dignity.

Steel hit steel and sparks flew around us. My blade hit his again, and I swirled around, trying to get my sword on his neck. It sliced a small wound to his shoulder, making his hand jerk, and I cursed as his blade nicked my fingers. I didn't stop for a second, though, and pressed on hard, so he had to make a few quick steps backwards. I followed him, forcing him to just defend himself, knowing that sooner or later Duncan would stop retreating and start to fight back.

His sword made a perfect arch towards mine, and I smiled. That kind of a wide movement left his chest unprotected. Just the kind of opening I'd been waiting for.

I stabbed at him and he stepped to the side, grabbing my arm. Our bodies were pressed together for a second when he tried to twist the sword out of my hand. I could feel his chest heave when he gasped for breath. Then I pushed him away, twisting his left hand, and when I saw him move his sword into a position where his grip would slip with one pat of my sword, I knew it was over.

The mistake he made was a relatively small one, but it was enough for me to hit the katana out of his hand. Now my blade was on his neck.

Duncan looked me straight in the eyes and then sank to his knees, raising his chin slightly, so I'd have a better reach on his throat. I looked back into the brown depths, wanting him to understand what I was going to do. His gaze met mine calmly and then flickered to the left.

"It was a fair fight, cousin. You can't intervene."

Damn. There was no way Connor would understand what I was doing. If he tried something, things could get really ugly.

"You take his head, Pierson, and I'll take yours next."

Connor had called me 'Adam' ever since he'd woken me from the nightmare and I had taken it as a good sign. Like maybe he was even beginning to... well, not actually like me, but at least not to resent me anymore. Now I was 'Pierson' again. I had no doubts that he would challenge me.

Duncan sighed. "No you won't!"

"What?" The shock in Connor's voice almost made me shake with laughter. I had to fight that. Letting my hands tremble as I was holding a sword on my Highlander's neck wouldn't have been a good idea.

"If Adam takes my head, you will leave him alone. Just as he will leave you." He was asking two favors with that. "Promise me, Connor."

The older Scot didn't answer.

"Promise me! Let him walk away, kinsman." I had never heard him beg like that. I wasn't sure if it was for me, though. Even though Connor wasn't as chivalrous as his cousin was, I was pretty sure he wouldn't just take my head. If he challenged me after I killed my best friend, he wouldn't have a chance, and Duncan knew that.

Connor sighed. "If you wish. I will let him go. I won't even follow him." He sounded like he even believed it. The Scot walked to my range of vision, holding out his empty hands. He looked at my face and asked, "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

Didn't want to. Had to. I looked straight into Duncan's eyes and the unwavering trust that shone there made me speechless. Finally I managed to whisper, "Yes. This must be done." What had started as a simple 'let's manipulate Duncan for his own good', had become something much bigger. There was no anger in either of us now, just dozens of questions that had never been asked and never would be. My next actions would answer everything.

I took a deep breath. "There can be only one."

My palms were sweaty and I shifted my hands on the hilt so that they wouldn't slip. I raised the sword, keeping my eyes on Duncan's. He didn't even flinch when I swung the sword.

As my Ivanhoe sank to the soft turf, I briefly wondered if my Highlander Would ever understand all that I meant with that act. That I forgave him for acting like a total idiot. That past was really past now. That I would never, ever hurt him. And if some day we were the only two Immortals left in the world, the prize would never be won. I couldn't kill him, and I knew he'd never take my head. There had never been a doubt about that.

Duncan closed his eyes for a moment and then took my right hand into his. "I meant what I said. I'm sorry I've been an arsehole. And the only way you're going to leave me, is still over my headless body."

His voice was gentle and caring. I had to swallow hard to keep from saying something that we'd both regret later. "Apology accepted."

My eyes were burning and I could see that I wasn't the only one trying to hold back the tears. Duncan squeezed my hand between his. "You mean you won't leave?"

"I do." The most frightening promise I'd ever made and I even intended to keep it. After just three years of friendship I was making a vow to stand by him forever. For the first time in five millennia there was a slight chance that I'd be with someone for the rest of my life, even though my Highlander collected trouble just like my books collected dust. He'd faced every challenge, both external and internal, and he'd survived them all. Mad Immortals, his own inner demons, that damn Scottish pride and unbelievable altruism.

I might go away for a couple of years from time to time, but I'd always come back to him. I had never committed myself to anyone like that before. He probably didn't even realize that.

Our sentimental moment was interrupted by hysterical giggling. I turned to see Connor sitting on the ground, holding his stomach with both hands as he howled with laughter.

We waited for him to stop laughing and when he did, he shook his head, still grinning like an idiot. "I'm sorry. It just looked like I was going to get a new relative."

With Duncan still kneeling in front of me, it wasn't all that hard to figure out what he meant with that. I smiled, thinking that they'd both fall on their 'arses' if I let the 'I wish' that was echoing in my mind be vocalized.

Duncan went to punch his cousin on the shoulder and I picked up my sword. It needed some cleaning. Again.

I didn't have the chance to take care of my favorite tool that day. I helped Duncan clean his clothes and remove all traces of his captivity from his body, including the stubble on his cheeks. He seemed to be relieved to shave it away, it probably reminded him of the last time I'd seen him with facial hair. Not a happy memory for him.

It was a bit hard to concentrate on scrubbing my own shirt clean while he was sliding my sharpest knife over his face, removing all the beard and some skin. I would much rather have helped him, but I wasn't sure how he'd react if I offered to shave him. Not very well, I thought.

My Highlander looked ridiculous in Connor's pants and my extra sweater, but since we hadn't brought him any spare clothing, it was either that or running around naked while his own clothes were drying. He chose looking ridiculous. Too bad.

After we'd gotten the last traces of blood off our clothes, we sat down by the fire.

Duncan held his hands closer to the flames. "So, Adam. Tell me what's happened while I've been away from home. How's Joe? What about Richie? Has he returned from Brazil yet?" He sounded a bit desperate.

"Actually, Joe's waiting for us in Stoede." I saw him tense and decided not to continue on that. I knew exactly what was going on inside that hairy head of his, and the last thing he needed was me reminding him of what had happened. "He's fine. The business is doing well. There was some problem in his bar one night when some drunk thought it was a karaoke bar, but that's about all. Oh, and he also decided to make Dave a full time worker."

He nodded. "I thought you were supposed to be teaching young people old languages, but apparently you've just been hanging around at Joe's all the time."

His attempt to make a joke probably sounded strained even in his own ears, but I laughed anyway. "You know that teaching isn't a full time job, Mac. Since it's not time for exams, I really don't have anything to do in the evenings but go to Joe's. Don't worry, I haven't drank all the whiskey, though."

"Great." The smile was faint but genuine. "How about Richie?"

"Joe heard from Richie's Watcher that the kid's on his way back North. Apparently he's driving across the country instead of flying."

"It'll be good to see him again." Duncan stretched. "How about the University? What happened to that grad student who was robbed?"

"Joanne? Her bag was found in the park near the mall. She was so glad to see that the only thing missing was her purse. Her notes were all intact." I went on rambling about our mutual acquaintances, filling the silence with friendly talk. My Highlander seemed to get more relaxed as our conversation got farther away from our reason for being in the forest.

Connor seemed to be comfortable doing all the work, fussing around the little campsite, and Duncan and I just sat there talking all afternoon. It was good to just be, not needing to worry about anything or anyone.

Of course there was a price to pay for doing nothing. Connor served us Dinner when the sun was setting, but Duncan's expression, when he stared at his plate, was almost worth having to actually eat the stuff the Highlander had made.

I pushed the food around the plate, continuing to tell Duncan about all the things that had happened back in Seacouver. There wasn't anything all that interesting going on in that cold town, but it didn't seem to matter. My friend just needed to hear about normal life. Connor seemed to understand that too, and didn't say a word about the cult. Actually the older Scot didn't say much about anything that evening. He was apparently just glad to see his cousin alive.

Duncan gathered all the dishes and headed towards the stream. I went to take care of the horses as soon as Connor began to rummage through the saddlebags, preparing us a place to sleep. We both knew that the young Scot really needed some time alone now.

Ned threw a baleful glare at me when I approached him. I grinned and apologized for making him wait for his dinner. He just snorted and looked the other way. Fortunately no horse can stay angry at the person who rubs him between the ears, and by the time he finished eating, we were friends again. When I'd made sure that the horses were both all right, I returned to the fire.

Connor had laid the sleeping bags on the ground. We discussed our sleeping arrangements --about guarding the camp actually, the older Scot had unfortunately bought three sleeping bags-- and then the younger men lay down. I stood guard. We'd left the cultists' house in a hurry, and it was possible that there were people looking for us.

I leaned my back against a tree, waiting for Connor to gather his wits. I'd noticed how he had looked at me and Duncan during dinner and knew that we had some things to talk about. He lay unnaturally still, obviously waiting for his cousin to fall asleep before confronting me.

I started when Duncan began to snore and then smiled as Connor got up and walked to me.

"Couldn't sleep?" I gestured with my hand and he sat down next to me.

"No, I wanted to talk to you in private." He looked a little uncomfortable and I let him straighten his thoughts in peace. Finally he sighed. "I lied today. To Duncan."

I grinned. "I know. When did you admit it to yourself?"

"When we were eating. I didn't know it was a lie, when I said it, but now I do. There's no way I would have let you go if you had taken his head." He scratched his neck. "When did you know it was a lie?"

"The moment you said it." Give or take a second.

He squinted his eyes. "That's not the reason you didn't kill him, is it?"

Very good! "No."

"Actually, you never really even intended to kill him. And the things you said by the brook, you weren't really mad at him, were you? You just wanted Duncan to fight with you. Why?"

I thought he deserved an explanation. He'd been a very good companion and I'd enjoyed him treating me almost like a friend. "He needed to let off some steam. And he had to... feel in control of his life again. Fighting me was his decision, not something someone else told him to do. He wasn't mad at me. He was mad at being a victim. Someone who needed rescuing."

"And you knew just which buttons to push. But that's not the whole truth, is it, Adam?" There was laughter in his voice.

So, how much had he figured out? "If you know enough to ask, surely you have already guessed the rest."

Connor sounded even more amused. "There's more to you than meets the eye."

"No, MacLeod. I'm exactly what you see. Just a guy." I had to laugh at that familiar phrase.

He looked down, obviously trying to figure out what to say next. Then he started and muttered, "Bloody hell!" When he looked up at me again, I knew he had finally done some elementary math. "You're not Duncan's student."

"No, I'm not."

"You're not all that young either, are you?" It wasn't really a question.

Childish or not, I loved this part. "No."

He thought that over. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

"Nope. I've enjoyed it far too much!"

"You sure as hell act like a kid. At least now." That familiar tone of voice made me wonder if the sixteenth and seventeenth century Scots had some kind of a tradition of teaching all the children to use petulance as a weapon. It usually worked, too.

I wanted him to understand that I hadn't fooled him just so I could now enjoy watching his jaw hit his knees. "Tell me something, Connor MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. If I hadn't recognized you at Joe's, would you have told me who you are? Or would I be talking to Russell Nash?"

He got my point. "Nash." He sighed. "Well, I don't care how old you are. What others call you, if Pierson's not your real name, doesn't matter either. I think I like you anyway."

For a moment I thought I'd heard him wrong. I had manipulated his cousin and lied to him, and he liked me? That was insane! The worst thing was that the feeling was mutual. "I think I like you too."

"What about you and Duncan?"

"I care for him very much. But so many things have happened these last few months, I'm not sure if we're still really friends." It was the first time I said that out loud. Even though we had spent a lot of time together in Seacouver, there was a new tension between us. And it wasn't just because of what I felt, I was very good at hiding my feelings.

"What things? Shit! You don't have to answer. I shouldn't have asked that." He sounded really embarrassed. He knew the importance of privacy just as well as I did.

"It's all right. If I didn't want to talk about it, I wouldn't have brought up the subject." I wasn't sure how much I should tell him. He wasn't ready to hear the whole truth and I wasn't ready to reveal it. "Let's just say that some... unfinished business from my past caught me unawares and Duncan was pulled into solving it. And then one of my students went mad and I resented Duncan killing him. I shouldn't have, he did the right thing, but..."

He nodded. Apparently he could imagine how that felt, considering the scare I'd given him earlier that day. He cocked his head and then asked quietly. "Does Duncan know? I mean, who you really are?"

Who was I? Even I didn't know the answer to that anymore. But Duncan knew more about me than anyone else in the whole world, more than I had ever wanted him to know. About the man, the myth, the monster. "Yes. He knows exactly who I am."

He nodded. "That's good enough for me. Wake me up in three hours. Duncan can take the last watch."

I watched him walk back to his sleeping bag and sighed. Now I had three hours to brood. At least I'd been taught by a master.

It had been a very rough week. Not just emotionally, but physically too. Even though I'd been practising more these last three years than the two centuries before them, a few hours a day swinging my sword didn't really prepare me to sit in a saddle all day. To be blunt, my behind was a bit sore. I really had gotten disgustingly soft.

But still I felt good. Duncan was safe, I'd made another friend and we were now heading back home.

Home? Since when did I call Seacouver home? It's a cold, gloomy town and the only reason I'd even think about going back there was... that my whole life was there. At least until it --he-- moved to Paris again. That was a really depressing thought and I spent the rest of my watch trying to banish it from my mind without much success.

I woke up with a start. I looked around and saw Duncan smiling a bit sheepishly at me. He was holding an armload of twigs, heading towards the remains of our little fire.

"Sorry. I stepped on a fallen branch. I didn't mean to wake you up."

I stretched. "I don't mind waking up early as long as Connor doesn't make breakfast." I'd rather eat boiled grass than his cooking. I can honestly say that in five thousand years, I've never met a worse cook.

Duncan chuckled as he squatted down. "I tried to teach him how to make edible food a few centuries ago and almost got my head cut off. He doesn't take constructive criticism very well."

"I've noticed. Damn, it's cold out here!" I shivered when I got up from my sleeping bag. "So, which one of us will have the honor of making breakfast?"

"You make the coffee, I'll do the rest." My Highlander grinned and began to build a fire. Apparently he didn't have much faith in my cooking skills either.

I rummaged through the contents of one of the saddlebags, trying to find where Connor kept the coffee, and sighed. "We have beans and ham." The last piece of bread there was looked so greenish, I didn't even consider it as food.

"I'd say Connor did the shopping." Duncan laughed when I nodded. "He has this odd sense of humor that no one else quite understands."

"You can say that again. At least we have enough coffee to last for a week." I grabbed the pot and then headed to the stream. I was glad to see my Highlander in such a good mood, but there was something bothering me in his demeanor. It was almost like he was too cheerful. I decided to watch him even more closely that day than usually. If that was physically possible, that is.

When I came back, Duncan was already frying thin slices of ham. As soon as the water boiled, I grabbed a tin mug and poured myself a cup of coffee. Even though Highlander had conveniently forgotten to buy any sugar, I sighed happily after taking a sip. The warmth of the dark liquid alone made me feel better.

It was nice to sit by the fire with my Highlander, not really talking, just enjoying the silence and edible food. Duncan didn't seem to be in mood for a talk and I didn't push him.

When we'd finished eating, Duncan stretched. "I think I'd better do some exercise. I'm too tense to spend the whole day in a saddle."

"Go ahead. I need to clean my sword and it seems like Connor's going to sleep for a bit longer."

He nodded and then put his utensils away.

I grabbed a piece of cloth and after checking my Ivanhoe for any dents I began to polish the blade. I was entertaining myself by watching Duncan.

He was going through some basic katas. His hands moved gracefully in perfectly controlled fluid movements. Sometimes looking like he was trying to fight someone, pushing the invisible opponent away. Sometimes his hands were almost flowing through the air, like he was doing some exotic dance. He wasn't wearing his shirt and I could clearly see all the muscles in his back rippling as he repeated the motions over and over again. It was almost hypnotic.

A rustling sound made me glance to the left and I saw Connor getting up. He disappeared into the forest for a moment and then walked close to the small fire to grab some breakfast. I turned back to enjoy the scenery.

Duncan was moving faster now, his skin glistening with sweat and I could see his chest heaving when he tried to control his breathing. His mouth was slightly open and after one particularly straining movement, the tip of his tongue flickered across his upper lip.

It was good I wasn't holding the blade at the moment. If I had, I would have cut my fingers off. I squeezed the hilt of my sword so hard that my hands hurt, but it didn't matter. I didn't care about anything but the gorgeous man in front of me.

He turned a little and began to stretch. I saw every single muscle of his chest twitching, and swallowed. I had a perfect view of all those places I had always wanted to explore with my hands and my mouth. I hadn't witnessed him doing his katas often, and I was now enthralled by it, but even if he had just stood there, doing nothing, I wouldn't have been able to take my eyes off him. That golden skin, slightly furred chest, tight, brown nipples... Gods, I'd even dreamt of those nipples!

I was almost drooling when I heard pathetic whimpers and coughing coming from Connor. Duncan rushed to pound his back, trying to prevent his cousin from choking on the moldy bread he'd been munching. Damn idiot.

I watched those two with a little smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. When Connor was all right again, he thanked his cousin. My Highlander grinned at him and then asked me to spar with him. I was only happy to oblige. Anything to keep him from putting a shirt on.

It was fun to fence in a forest. The roots of the trees, the small holes on the ground and the low branches made the little exercise more challenging than it was in the dojo. Duncan seemed to enjoy it, too, and it was nice to hear genuine laughter coming from him. He grumbled every time he fell on his ass, and when I finally won our little match, he muttered something about me being a devious bastard. I took that as a good sign too.

I put my sword away with a little sigh and then helped the Scots pack our gear.

Connor looked at the sky as he mounted his horse. "I think this'll be a great day. Let's go. I want to get away from here as soon as I can. There might be still some cultists around here somewhere."

That certainly took care of Duncan's good mood. He looked around timidly and climbed quickly behind his cousin. I patted Ned and then followed the Scots into the forest.

After about an hour's ride Connor seemed to notice that something was wrong with Duncan. The young man hadn't said a word since we left the camp. The older Scot obviously decided it was time to break the silence and asked why his cousin had wanted to see him.

The path we were following was a narrow one, so I wasn't able to ride beside them, but I could still hear their conversation. My Highlander's voice floated towards me. "I heard about an old acquaintance of ours. Dmitri Kemppain."

It was good that I was paying attention to them. Otherwise someone could have gotten hurt when Connor abruptly yanked the reins. I was able to rein Ned in just in time, so we didn't crash into the Highlanders.

"Kemppain? Are you sure? Where?" Connor sounded shocked.

"I heard his name mentioned while I was at the tournament. I think he lives in Stoede. At least he did a week ago."

Connor was looking at Duncan over his shoulder and I could clearly see the hatred in his eyes. "Thank you for telling me."

"You're going after him?"

"Yes."

The older Scot mumbled something about Alicante in 1713, connecting the events to the 'Sons of Odin'.

I looked at Connor, wanting to know how much he hated Kemppain. If his chronicler in the eighteenth century had been right, we were in trouble. In all his life the Highlander had truly hated only three men. Kemppain was one of them.

"What happened?" As if I didn't know. Some things I've read are too disgusting to forget.

Connor shivered and let Duncan do the talking. My Highlander told me a short version of the grim tale I'd read about years ago. I'm not easily shaken, but this story made me a bit queasy.

Many people had died in a witch hunt when all the people in a little village near Alicante had declared a war against 'demons'. That meant mainly the MacLeods, Amanda and a couple of their friends. Dozens of people had been burned at stake and then dismembered. One of the victims had been Amanda's protégé, Marina de Vilán. A young woman who'd apparently been a very close friend of the Scots.

Dmitri Kemppain had been one of the leading members in Alicante's council at the time. When all the commotion had died, Connor MacLeod had spent months chasing the other Immortal. It was quite obvious that he'd had something to do with the matter.

There were other occasions when the Watchers had speculated that Kemppain had been using mortals against us, but they hadn't been able to prove it. It seemed I'd been right. Kemppain had been first on my list of probable cult leaders. Now that I saw Connor's reaction to the man, I was glad I hadn't said anything about it earlier.

Duncan didn't seem to be any fonder of Kemppain than his cousin was. He called the man sociopath and was probably right. I had never met Kemppain, but I'd heard a lot about him. None of it was good.

As soon as Duncan had finished his story, his cousin urged his horse to move on, obviously anxious to get to Stoede as soon as he could.

Damn. It seemed that our little hunt wasn't nearly over yet.

We hadn't ridden for long when I felt Ned tense and then heard a loud shout coming from the forest. I grabbed the saddle horn at the same moment as a group of black-coated men ran towards us, shaking various weapons. Ned jumped a few times, but I was able to stay on his back. It was easy to pull out my sword, and then I went charging at the cultists.

Remembering Duncan's reaction to my bloody clothes the day before, I made sure that I just hurt the idiots, smacking them with the flat of my sword or riding straight at them. It was very hard not to kill them, though. A few of them were frothing at the mouth and minor flesh wounds didn't stop them.

I saw the other horse run down the path with no one on the saddle and looked around frantically. The Scots were fighting on foot and I was shocked to see that both of them were using lethal force.

Discarding my sword, I pulled out my gun. After that our fight didn't last for long.

Ned was shaking, but he wasn't panicking when I dismounted. His conduct was exemplary for a horse who hadn't been trained to be a war-horse. I hugged his neck, soothing him, and when he calmed down, I tied the reins to a tree. I looked around to see what my friends were doing.

Duncan was standing by his cousin who was lying on the ground, and I went closer to see what was wrong. I heard Connor demanding Duncan to take something off him.

"I don't know what to do..."

I didn't like the sound of my Highlander's voice. He'd been trying to act like he wasn't at all upset about what had happened while he'd been with the cult ever since we rescued him, even though living in constant fear must have been hell even for the brave Scot. Now it seemed like he was ready to snap. Fighting those cultists had been hard for him, but also very therapeutic in a way.

When I saw what had happened to Connor, I sighed. I'd been ran through by a spear more often than I wanted to remember, and knew exactly how much that hurt. I pulled Duncan gently away from the wounded man. "It's all right, Duncan. I'll do it. I'm a doctor, remember?" I knelt down and asked Connor if he wanted me to shoot him before I pulled out the spear.

"Just pull it out. I can take it."

I nodded, realizing that he'd probably faint as soon as I touched the spear, anyway. Blood was gushing from the wound in Connor's side, indicating that the removing of the spear might even kill him. I looked at Duncan. I wanted to tell him to go away, but unfortunately I couldn't do this alone. "Duncan, I need your help. Move behind your cousin and hold him tight."

He complied without a word. I grabbed the spear and Connor screamed, going totally limp. I could still feel his Presence, and began to remove the piece of wood out of the Scot before he woke up. It was stuck somewhere inside him, and it took all my strength to pull it out. The sounds and the sights my efforts made were disgusting, but I didn't stop for a moment. After finally getting the spear out, I threw it over a nearby bush. The Scot didn't need to see that when he woke up.

Duncan got up and staggered a few steps away from us. I thought he was going to either faint or throw up, but instead he was trembling and making small, whimpering noises, like a hurt animal. It was almost a relief to see him react that way. Keeping everything inside would have been destructive in the long run. It was best to acknowledge the pain, let it wash over you and then let go. I'm saying this from experience.

I knew that I should let him try to get a grip on his emotions on his own. He wasn't actually the kind of person who liked to show his vulnerabilities to others. But I couldn't just watch him suffer. Before I could even think, I was standing behind him, reaching out for him. It was the easiest thing in the world to turn him around and pull him into an embrace.

He didn't resist at all. He sagged against me and I had to brace myself in order to keep us both standing. I stroked his hair and felt his trembling intensify.

"It's all right, Duncan. Let it all out." I murmured softly and then winced as he began to cry. It was so hard not to kiss him and tell him that I loved him. That I'd be there for him if he wanted me to be. I couldn't do anything for him, but just hold him tight.

He laid his head on my shoulder, gasping for breath. "My God, Methos. I've been so..." His voice broke.

"I know." I ran my hands up and down his back. "It's over now." It would have been impossible to resist the urge to plant a soft kiss on the top of his head, so I didn't even try.

Duncan's arms circled my waist and he seemed to melt to my embrace. Even though I felt his tears on my neck, I could have held him like that for hours. It was breathtaking to know that he trusted me this much. Not just with his head, with his soul, too.

I saw Connor move a little and then blink a few times. As soon as he realized that I was watching him, he closed his eyes again. I wasn't sure if he was fully conscious or still a little disorientated, but I was glad he didn't intervene. Duncan didn't have the strength to handle a worried kinsman on top of it all.

Finally Duncan stopped shaking. He squeezed me really tight and then let go. "Thanks, old man."

"You needed it." I didn't care if Connor heard him. He already knew I wasn't exactly a teenager.

He wiped his face with the back of his hand and I handed him a handkerchief. "No, I mean it, Adam. Thank you. For everything." He blew his nose. "I never thanked you for what you did for me."

felt heat rise to my cheeks. "You don't need to thank me. I know you would have done the same for me,Highlander." He really would have. It was something I could count on. He always took care of his friends, but it was a lot harder for him to accept that he needed some help from time to time.

He sniffed. "I'm not acting very much like a Highland warrior right now."

Thank Gods I had studied psychology! Even though Dr. Benjamin Adams had 'died' long before Freud was even born, I'd kept up the interest in health studies. Of course the fact that my own mental health was questionable at the best of times gave me a keen insight on different kinds of psychosis. Duncan right now needed something he could go through in his head on the intellectual level.

"You've been under a lot of stress for the last few days. It's completely understandable for you to react this way. I know that whatever happened when you were being held prisoner must have been horrible, but you survived it. There's nothing to be ashamed of." I emphasized that by touching his shoulder.

He smiled a little.

I knew that the older Scot was fully awake by now. "Let's go see Connor. I think he's waking up."

We went to the other Highlander and soon the Scots were laughing and bickering with each other. This time the sound of Duncan laughing didn't make my skin crawl. He still had things to go through in his head, but at least now he was processing them, not hiding from them.

The MacLeods went to find their horse while I went to check Ned out. I patted his neck and talked to him soothingly. I was glad I hadn't wallowed in blood this time and he wasn't disturbed by my presence.

Soon after that, the older Scot walked his wayward mount to where I was standing and handed me the reins. "Take care of it while I go to find my gear." He glared at the poor frightened horse and went back to the forest, muttering to himself. I saw that the saddlebags were empty and grinned. He should have packed them better.

I tethered the horse next to Ned and patted him gently. Ned snorted and I slapped his rump. "Behave!"

After calming the other horse, I put my empty gun into the saddlebag, not even bothering to reload it. It was far easier to use the other gun if there was an emergency. I rummaged through my things and took a swig of lukewarm water from the bottle. Fortunately I'd finished drinking and had managed to put the bottle back into the saddlebag before Connor's scream made me swirl around, so I didn't waste any time on choking before running to where he was standing.

What I saw made me groan. One of the cultists was still alive.

Duncan was already there, standing by his cousin and he looked at me imploringly. He wasn't in a condition to handle the cultist. I didn't want to intervene, but one look at Connor's face told me that he was too shocked to do anything.

The injured man was young, probably not even eighteen years old, and he was crying for his mother. Not exactly the kind of person one could really hate. I knelt beside the mortal and then quickly examined him. I tried not to listen to his broken pleas. As soon as I realized that he couldn't feel my touch, I knew that there was nothing we could do to save him. The boy was paralyzed from neck down, and by the feel of his stomach, I knew that wasn't his only serious injury.

No matter what I did, he'd be dead in a couple of hours. Probably even sooner.

I got up and walked away from the cultist, motioning Duncan and Connor to follow me. The Scots looked at me expectantly and I sighed, "His back is broken."

Duncan closed his eyes.

"And I think he's bleeding internally." I didn't really need to add anything to that. We all knew already that the cultist wouldn't survive, didn't we?

"What can we do?"

Connor's words made me almost groan. I really didn't want to tell them this. "There's nothing to do. We can't move him and I don't think he can survive waiting for help. It'll take us over 24 hours to reach Stoede and by the time the medics reach him, he'll be dead."

"So he'll die." Duncan was white as a sheet.

"He'll die. I've seen this thing happen before." I could have bitten my tongue off. I meant that I had seen patients with broken backs before, but I was afraid that Duncan would misinterpret my words. I looked at his face and was surprised to see only sorrow there. No disgust.

"Isn't there anything you can do?" Connor's words were a desperate plea.

I focused my gaze on his and saw that he was on the brink of hysteria. Both of these Highlanders were fierce warriors, but they were completely helpless in a situation like this. Their code of honor made them protect the hurt and the innocent. The cultist was both, even though he'd tried to kill us. He was just stupid, not evil. I knew exactly what the Scot was asking. I would have to handle this, too.

And I knew there would be a price to pay for my actions. But Connor was right. The boy couldn't be left there dying. There was only one way to handle him, and even though the doctor in me screamed against it, I knew that it was the only humane thing to do.

We walked back to the cultist. He was praying silently. Once again I knelt down and then touched his cheek.

The youngster's eyes flew open. "Am I gonna die?"

I felt a twinge of pity and shook my head. The lie wouldn't cost me anything but it would mean a lot to the boy. "What's your name?" I needed some information from him too and I thought that the best way to get it was to act like a friendly doctor. I wasn't exactly proud of it.

"Paddy. It's short for Patrick."

I couldn't call him that. Knowing what I'd have to do to him, it was impossible to utter that affectionate nickname. "All right, Patrick. You're not going to die."

"Thank God! I was so afraid!" He swallowed. "But I can't feel my body. I can't move."

"That's because your spine has been dislocated." I was certain he wouldn't understand what I really meant with that. "Don't worry, I'm a doctor, I'll fix it in no time."

He smiled. I felt disgusted of myself, but I knew that there was something I needed to ask him before I could put him to rest. It was something vital to me and my friends. "One thing, before I start. Are there any more men here looking for us?"

Patrick whispered, "No."

"Good. Now we can do this in peace." I didn't want to look at the boy's face, but I had to.

He looked so grateful. "Thank you, mister. And I'm sorry I tried to kill you, I'll never do anything like that again. I just want to go home to my mom."

"All is forgiven." I smiled at the poor boy. I saw that he was about to say something, but I couldn't postpone what I had to do any longer. "Now, I have to move you a little to make this work. Are you ready?"

Patrick sighed. "Yes."

I didn't have to think what to do next. The move had been honed into perfection millennia ago. I knew just the correct amount of speed and pressure to use and snapped the young man's neck with one, well practised motion.

I laid Patrick's body back to the ground and then got up. I couldn't look at the MacLeods and just walked back to Ned, knowing that I had most probably lost every chance with Duncan. Maybe even as his friend.

It had been euthanasia. A good death, a merciful death. But it was still death and I wasn't sure if he'd see why I had killed the boy. I didn't think he was stupid, far from it, but most of the time he handled things purely on emotion. What had been revealed of my past, had hurt him enormously. All that had happened too recently to accept. Or to forget.

Ned whinnied as I walked to him and I patted his neck. I walked to his side, automatically checking the saddle. Thinking that the saddle belt wasn't tight enough, I began to tighten it. It was actually just an excuse to keep my eyes and hands on something.

Hearing someone approach, I tensed. I looked at the man standing next to me and sighed, "Duncan..."

The look in his brown eyes was warm as he touched my lips with his fingers. "Before you say anything, let me talk."

The touch of his fingers was light, but it still sent shivers down my spine. I wanted to say something to him, but his touch neatly prevented me from opening my mouth. I tried to stay calm, but my eyes felt like they'd swallow my whole face any time.

Duncan was still staring at me, waiting for something, and I nodded. Yes I'd let him talk.

"What you did was an act of mercy. The right thing to do. I realize you had to do it, and if you hadn't..." He was quiet for a moment and then took a deep breath. "I probably would have. It wasn't an easy thing to do and I'm proud of you!"

Dear Gods! How I managed to stand still, I'll never know. What he was basically saying, was that he didn't judge me by my past anymore. The relief I felt for his words was almost embarrassing.

I swallowed and then said with very calm voice, "Thanks. Shall we go now? We still have a long way to go." After seeing his nod, I turned back to Ned to hide the biggest grin I'd ever had on my face.

Something was obviously bothering Connor that evening. He squatted down as soon as Duncan had built a fire and then began to make us dinner. I didn't comment on that, even though his cooking skill left much to be desired. I knew he loved his homeland, but why on earth did he have to make all the dishes he prepared taste like overcooked haggis?

I let him brood in peace and we all ate in silence. I loved the way the flicker of the flames made Duncan's face shine and had to remind myself often not to stare at him. Not too openly anyway. He leaned against me when he reached for the water bottle and I shuddered. I was glad it was our last evening in the woods, for I couldn't have handled that kind of closeness much longer.

There wasn't a stream near by and we just wiped the plates clean. I packed the utensils and then stretched.

Connor was staring at the fire, sighing.

"Something wrong, cousin?" Duncan sounded a bit concerned.

The older Highlander shook his head, forcing a little smile to his lips. "Just watching the flames, thinking."

"Don't worry. We'll get to Stoede in time. There's a church where you can light your candle."

I had read about it, but I'd never been certain if Connor MacLeod really lit a candle every year for his first love, or if it was just some Watcher legend. Seeing his wistful little smile made me happy. As long as we could feel love, we had a reason to live.

Connor turned to me. "Have you ever been married, Adam?"

I hadn't expected the question and had to think for a moment what to answer. I decided to skip the details. "Yes."

"Mortals?"

"All mortals. That way I didn't have to fear for my head." Why the sudden interest in my love-life?

He nodded and then looked at Duncan. "What do you say, cousin? Could you ever love an Immortal?"

I held my breath. Why the hell did they have to talk about love? It wasn't exactly what I'd have expected from these brave Highland lads. I could just imagine Joe's expression when I told him about it. 'There we were, sitting by the fire after killing about a dozen mortals --you know, slicing them in pieces, wallowing knee deep in blood-- and we talked about love. No, not lust, not desire, not about 'liking' someone. Love.' What next? Connor pulls bagpipes out of his saddlebag and Duncan and I'll dance over our swords?

So I tried to laugh at the whole subject. It was better than bawling, anyway.

Duncan looked thoughtful. "I love Amanda."

It hurt like hell! I cursed to myself silently. Why hadn't I walked away the second I had realized that the conversation would be about that damn feeling that caused so much pain?

"But if you mean, if I could ever be in love with an Immortal... I don't know. It would be complicated."

I could breathe again.

Connor nodded. "You think it couldn't last?"

"Maybe not forever. But then again, nothing lasts forever. The only Immortal couple I know are de Valicourts and even their marriage was beginning to falter after three centuries."

De Valicourts? I understood why he didn't want to talk about Jacob and Irena Galati, but this was ridiculous! If he really thought that they were the only Immortal couples he had ever met, he was even more straight-laced than I'd thought. Why on earth did he think Lymon Kurlow and Peter Matlin had stayed together all those centuries? He had even taken both of their Quickenings! What about Clay and Wellan? Didn't it ever occur to him that those men had been lovers? Apparently not.

My disgust on his ignorance was swept away by wry amusement. I definitely felt like the Duncan MacLeod Encyclopedia at the moment.

"Adam, what about you?"

The look in Connor's eyes almost made me groan. So that was the reason for using the 'L-word'. He hadn't figured out my identity, or even my age. Why the hell did he have to figure out this?

He didn't look like he resented the fact that I had feelings for his cousin, quite the opposite. Sighing, I decided that I might as well tell the truth.

"I think loving another Immortal would be extremely stupid. You'd have to get to know her or him very well first and then let that person see the true you. Then there would have to be a decision between revealing your feelings -and possibly alienating your friend, or even losing your head-- and suffering in silence. Either way, you get hurt."

Connor looked sad. He glanced at his cousin and then fixed his gaze on his hands. I appreciated the gesture, I really did, but I wished he'd stop trying to play some kind of matchmaker. Nothing he'd do would change the fact that I was just Duncan's friend.

Friend. Thinking about our relationship in that term didn't raise any doubts this time.

"I think it's worth the risk. There's always the possibility that everything will turn out right. I think that the thing that would hurt most is the regret for missing the opportunity to have happiness. And we have a long, long time to regret." Duncan's words surprised me. It sounded like he had really thought about the matter.

Connor nodded. "And love does bring out the best in us."

"You're right. Adam, just look what you've done for me over these last few years. I'm your friend and you've risked your life for me on more than one occasion. That gives some clues of what you'd do for someone you really love."

He thought I would risk my life for someone I didn't love? Unbelievable! Who did he think I was? Darius? I saw Connor roll his eyes upwards. That made me feel a little better, but I decided that I didn't really want to continue this discussion and faked a yawn. "It's time for me to get some sleep."

Duncan grinned and I expected him to make a joke about how easily old people get tired. I was glad he just offered to take care of the horses.

Connor began to prepare himself a place to sleep. He was definitely not looking at me and I thought I should say something to him. I reached out and touched his hand. His eyes were surprised when he raised his gaze to meet mine.

"Thank you for trying. And for not pushing it."

He looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..."

"It's all right. At least now I know how he feels about me. I'm his friend, and that's enough. It has to be." If that was right, why did I feel so miserable? I patted his hand and then went to get my sleeping bag.

I lay down and closed my eyes, but I couldn't stop thinking about how I felt for Duncan.

I was a fool. I'd been for years. If I had even an ounce of rationality left, I would have walked out of Duncan MacLeod's life for good a long time ago. But I hadn't. Something in him intrigued me. Even though he knew my real identity, I kept in touch with Joe and every time something interesting happened, I headed to Paris or to Seacouver to see my friends.

Over months I began to like the damn Scot more and more and then came the cursed day when I noticed that I was looking at him, admiring his body, seriously thinking of him as something more than just a friend.

How stupid of me. I had read his chronicle a long time before we ever met. I knew all about his life and it didn't include male lovers.

So I refused to listen to my body. I really liked the man and didn't want to scare him off by making a pass at him. After losing Alexa, I decided to continue being just his friend. It wouldn't be all that hard. I'd met more desirable men and women over the millennia. But few as intriguing as Duncan MacLeod. I'd never met an Immortal like him before, someone who was altruistic and brave but not a complete idiot, and I wanted to get to know him better. That meant no groping or suggestions of how to spend a rainy afternoon more pleasurably than by playing chess and drinking beer.

What did I do? Did I just laugh at my folly and find some other lover? Somehow that didn't seem right. Not after Alexa. I didn't want a warm body for a few nights in my bed, I needed something more.

I fell in love with him.

It went a way beyond physical attraction. Not just raw animal lust anymore, even though that was always present, too. Not just wanting to grab him, throw him on the bed, or bend him over a table, and fuck him silly. All those urges I could ignore, but not this dull ache I felt inside. Not when I put my life at risk every time I met him.

When I realized that, I should have ran like all the demons of Hell were after me, but I didn't. Instead, I began to think about spending more time together. Maybe going to a movie. Or even a goddamn opera. I even thought we could take a few weeks off and go to his cabin, where I'd try to seduce him in front of the fireplace. Dinner, candles, the works. Not just to have his body, but his soul, too.

Ridiculous, wasn't it? Five millennia of wisdom? Try 'lunacy' instead. Or 'delusion'. I was so mad at myself for loving him. I didn't have a chance and even if I did, loving a man like Duncan MacLeod was not exactly wise for a man who was looking for some peace and quiet.

But I never claimed to be all that wise.

Of course I never acted on my feelings. I admit that I teased him and flirted with him, but it never went any further than that. Mostly because every time I was about to make my big move, I was interrupted by something. Then everything changed, and now it was too late. It had been ever since that visit from my long lost little family. I wasn't exactly someone that damn do-gooder could love. I was just glad to be able to spend time with him at Joe's or at the dojo. Strictly as a friend.

If that was all I'd get, that's what I'd take. Fragile as our friendship was, it meant more to me than anything. He meant more to me than anyone else in the world.

Besides myself, of course.

It had been a hard day, and even though I could usually spend hours thinking about Duncan, this time it didn't take long until I drifted off.

I woke up to the smell of coffee and stretched, feeling wonderful. I had slept like a baby, dreaming about Duncan, almost feeling his arms around me.

Connor handed me a cup and I took a sip, careful not to burn myself. For a bad cook he made excellent coffee. I looked around, noticing that someone was missing. "Where's Duncan?"

The Scot grinned, but there was a strange look in his eyes. "He... thought he needed some exercise. I guess he's out there running or something." He gestured with his hand towards the path we had followed. Now he had a vague look of distaste on his face.

"You two didn't fight, did you?"

He shook his head. "Of course not."

The sudden tingling of a Presence startled me and I turned around, reaching for my sword. Seeing that it was just Duncan, I let myself relax again. He didn't look at us, and went to pack his sleeping bag and other stuff away. Then he went to the horses, not saying a word to Connor or me.

He was behaving very strangely.

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. Had Connor told him about my feelings? I was going to kill the damn Scot if he had.

But Duncan didn't seem to avoid just me. It was almost as if he was afraid of his cousin. If my Highlander knew that I was pining over him, he'd be shocked, but he'd probably either yell or try to act like nothing had happened. He would definitely not act like someone had burned his barge. I decided that whatever had happened, it had nothing to do with me.

I glanced at Connor, and saw that he was just following Duncan's example and packed his gear. I decided not to interfere with their little battle of wills.

After my saddlebag was full, I grabbed Ned's reins. Duncan began to untie the other horse from the tree, when Connor walked to him and shoved his cousin aside.

"I think my horse needs some rest after carrying the both of us all the way here. You ride with Adam today." His voice was cold.

What? I stared at him, trying to find out if he was joking or not.

Apparently not. He looked furious again. "Now, let's get moving!"

I mounted Ned and then helped Duncan to climb behind me. I wondered what the hell had happened that morning. Connor looked like he could kill his cousin with his bare hands and Duncan was acting like he had just committed some despicable crime.

And I was going to have to spend all day on a horse with the Scot right Behind me. Thank Gods I was the one holding the reins.

It seemed that we'd have some very nasty weather ahead, and I urged Ned to move faster than the day before. It was almost like I was riding alone, since neither of the Highlanders said a word, and I didn't even feel Duncan. He was sitting far from me, on just the edge of the saddle.

That wasn't all that smart. If something startled Ned, my friend would fall if he didn't hold onto something. Like me. My thoughts were getting desperate. Even though I knew very well that it was out of the question, my body was sending my mind these signals about how good it would be to feel Duncan's arms around me.

At first I rejected the idea completely, but then I began to think that maybe it would be best if he took a good grip on something. Even the saddle. "For Gods' sake, MacLeod, hold on! I don't want you to fall and break your neck."

I felt him shift a little closer, but he still kept a few inches between our bodies. Then his hands circled my waist and I had to concentrate on staying on the horse. I was just glad his hands stayed a ways above my waistline.

We stopped to rest the horses at noon and as soon as we dismounted, Duncan walked away from us. I watched him hurry into the forest and decided it was time to ask Connor some questions.

I sat down and shook my head. "You're not very good at these mind games."

"Mind games?" The tone of his voice told me that he had no idea of what I was talking about.

If it wasn't a game, what was it? "First you look at Duncan like he is navel lint and then you refuse to ride with him. If you two didn't fight this morning, the only explanation is that you're playing some kind of a mind game. And you're not doing it very well."

He looked like he was either going to explode or burst into laughter. Then the annoyed look was back on his face. "You stay here. I'll go and talk to him." He went after Duncan, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

I thought for a moment of following him and then decided against it. I went to scratch Ned instead. We'd reach Henderson's place in a few hours and I'd probably never see him again. I'd been dependant on two things in my life. My sword and, until the beginning of this century, my horse. It created a strange bond between me and the mounts.

Ned seemed to enjoy the attention I gave him, and I grinned. It was good to see that there was at least one person in our little group that I could handle. Never mind that he was just a horse.

When the Scots returned, I sighed with relief. Duncan was looking a lot better and Connor was smiling openly. My Highlander walked to the horses and cocked his head. The older Scot gestured at Ned and then grinned at his cousin. I saw Duncan's glare and wondered what it was all about. I decided that as soon as we got back to the hotel, I'd get one of them drunk and then fish for some details. I hate it when people act irrationally and I don't know the reason for it!

It was getting chillier and Duncan was leaning closer to me now to share my body heat. It felt good. Too good. I had some trouble concentrating on where we were going.

Then my worst fears came true. It began to rain. I heard Connor curse and agreed with him wholeheartedly. The only thing worse than a rain would be if...

When will I learn that thinking like that makes shit happen? As soon as the word 'thunder' went through my mind, lightning flashed across the sky.

Ned was shaking a little, but I was certain I could handle him. Apparently Connor didn't feel as confident about his skill. He yelled, "I think we should stop until the worst of the storm passes. It's making the horses jumpy."

I nodded and followed him to a small clearing.

While I took care of the horses, the others built a tent of sorts from a Huge piece of oil-cloth and some rope. I crawled into the little shelter and smiled. It wasn't big, but it was comfortable.

Connor was squirming for some reason. My eyes widened as he pulled his sweater off and then began to remove his pants. "I don't know about you two, but I'm not going to sit here in wet clothes." He checked the saddlebag where our spare clothes were and sighed with disgust. "These are all damp too. Well, at least we have shelter here. We won't get too cold."

There was no way in hell I'd remove a single piece of clothing while Duncan was sitting so close to me! It had been hard enough to try to keep control feeling his arms around me while we were riding. Then I saw my friend begin to remove his shirt and knew that if I stayed dressed, I'd have to answer some embarrassing questions. So I began to undress.

Connor was still rummaging the saddlebags and then held up his hand. I didn't quite see what he was holding, and sighed. At least it was dark in here. A few seconds later the older Scot lit the lantern. Wasn't that just great?

He stretched. "Too bad we don't have a deck of cards. I'm afraid this might get a little boring after a while."

I ignored him and pulled off my T-shirt. As I laid it down, Connor whistled. I raised an eyebrow, wondering what was that all about, and then began to peel off my disgustingly damp pants.

"It seems Duncan isn't the only one in this tent who has muscles."

I couldn't believe my ears! What made him say that? I couldn't help glancing at Duncan and almost groaned. So, Connor had been comparing the two of us. My eyes lingered for a while on Duncan's half-naked body and then I tore them off him.

I felt Duncan moving and for a second I thought that he was moving closer. That thought went straight to my groin. No! Even when I realized that he was just getting into a better position, the 'interest' didn't go down. Damn. I was sitting in a small tent, wearing only boxers, with the man I wanted more than anything in the world just two feet from me. If I moved a little, I'd feel his bare skin against mine. He was probably as cold as I was, but we could get warm by rubbing...

No, no, no! I laid my hands on my lap, trying to conceal my hardening erection.

It was horrible. There was no way I'd get out of that tent without embarrassing myself, but I couldn't stay there either. I looked straight ahead and tried to think of a way to get out of that mess. After spending the whole day on a saddle with him, thinking about him, feeling his body so close to mine, I was rather desperate now. My self- discipline is good, but I'm not made of stone.

I wanted Duncan, it was as simple and as complicated as that. I'd wanted him for a long time, but this time it was different. This time I wasn't certain if I could control myself. He was almost naked, I was almost naked, and Gods, I wanted him.

Connor sighed. "Go ahead. Don't mind me. Just try to think I'm not even here."

What?

"What are you talking about?"

I was glad Duncan asked that, since I wasn't sure I could trust my voice.

"Come on, you two. You don't have to hide it from me anymore. I already figured it out." The Highlander was laughing

"Figured what out?"

"That you two are mad about each other."

Oh. My. Gods. I wished the ground would swallow me or that the lightning would hit the tent. "Connor..."

He shook his head, looking pleased with himself. "You don't have to explain. Actually I think it's sweet." He held out a hand. "Welcome to the Clan, Adam."

I couldn't move. If I did, I'd grab a hold of his throat and squeeze. He was ruining the best friendship I'd ever had with this thoughtless display of his 'cleverness'. Damn that child!

Connor just shrugged and then turned to Duncan. "What?"

The younger Scot's voice was full of pain. "You promised you wouldn't do this."

"I never said that."

What were they talking about? I finally found my voice. "Do what?" Oh, no! What if Duncan knew about my feelings and had decided to ignore it in order to maintain our friendship? That would explain the tension I'd sensed between us.

"I think Duncan means that I'm not supposed to mess with your relationship by interfering in any way."

"What relationship?" I asked. His voice indicated that he wasn't talking about our friendship.

"It's quite obvious that you two are in love with each other. And it's even more obvious at the moment that you want each other." He leered at me and I blushed. Then I realized what he was saying. It wasn't just about me and my feelings. "I just thought you should know that if you want to do something about it now, it doesn't bother me."

I turned to Duncan and saw him staring at me. "Me...Maybe we should... I mean..." He couldn't finish the sentence.

All I could think of was that he wouldn't be this upset if Connor wasn't right. He'd even almost called me Methos, and he never did that in front of a person who didn't know my identity. Not unless he was really shocked.

"Is he telling the truth? You're in love with me?" I couldn't help it, it sounded like an accusation. But I couldn't let myself believe Connor was right.

Duncan flinched and then straightened himself. "Yes." His voice was defiant.

It was too perfect. I had given up all hope of ever being able to tell him about my feelings and now he told me that he loved me! I would either burst into tears or grab him right there and then. It wasn't a hard decision.

"Get out!" I broke the eye contact with Duncan just so I could glare at his cousin.

"I'm not going anywhere, it's still raining out there." That young man had the gall to just sit there and shake his head like we were talking about who was going to take out the garbage.

"What are you doing, Adam?"

I didn't like the uncertainty in my Highlander's voice and inched closer to him. "I'm trying to arrange us some privacy." I smiled at him. "After I tell you I love you too, I'm going to jump your bones and I don't need an audience."

He swallowed. "Connor, get out. A little rain won't melt you."

"I'm not going out there!"

"Get out or I'll kill you."

Duncan's throaty voice made me almost moan. I wished those two would stop fighting and we could get down to business. It was all so surreal, I needed to feel Duncan's body moving against mine to believe it was really happening.

"I don't intend to watch you two. I'll go to the far end of the tent and watch the rain." Connor turned his back on us and moved away.

That was good enough. I looked at Duncan and shivered as I saw the hungry look on his face. "Put the light out."

"Adam..."

"Put the light out and come here. I don't care if he takes pictures. I want you. Now!"

He licked his lips nervously and then grabbed the lantern. When the light disappeared, I jumped at him. Thank goodness Duncan had managed to put the lamp down so we didn't get burned.

I latched my mouth on his. The first kiss had a hint of hesitance, but then all hesitation flew out of the tent as Duncan pulled me against his chest. I nibbled his mouth and felt his lips part immediately.

He touched my lips with his tongue and then slipped it inside my mouth. I welcomed it in, stroking it with my tongue and then sucking it gently. My hands were roaming all over his back, drawing him closer to me while he held my head in place with a strong grip of his fingers.

Finally we parted for air.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about this first?"

He wanted to talk? Now? When we were finally holding each other, half-naked. "Would talking change anything?"

"No, it wouldn't."

Good. I slid my hand down his chest. Oh yes, taking off our damp clothes had been an excellent idea. It saved time now.

"Wait, Adam. You don't understand... we... have... to..."

My fingers found a nipple. A wonderful, tight little nipple. It hardened instantly just like I'd always thought it would.

"Stop that! We have to talk about this sooner or later." He squealed.

I removed my mouth from the nipple to say, "You're right. Later." Then I returned to the little nub.

Gods, I loved touching him! All that wonderful skin I'd just watched before, never daring to touch. Now it was too dark to see what I was doing, but it didn't matter. The taste and texture of his sweaty skin and the small, throaty noises he made were more than enough. In a way I was glad we couldn't see each other. I thought that actually seeing what he was doing might make Duncan nervous.

Not wanting to give him too much time to think what we were doing, I moved my hands down his sides. His skin was as cold as mine, but together we generated so much body heat I was certain we steamed.

Things got a little fuzzy after that. Five millennia of experience, and I fumbled with his boxers like a teenager in a barn with his first lover. I got the annoying piece of cloth off and threw it over my shoulder, not caring where it landed. Then I squirmed to get my own underwear off, almost dislocating my shoulder while doing that.

I kissed him everywhere I could reach. Duncan's hands were all over my body, caressing my chest, squeezing my shoulders, gently pinching my nipples. I moaned his name and then continued kissing a path down his stomach.

Duncan groaned as my cheek nudged his erection. I kissed his thighs, moving my hands to his buttocks.

"Me... oh ... Adam... Please!" My Highlander panted. My hands strayed closer to his groin and I finally touched his erection. He thrust himself to my hand. "Yes, just like that!"

I squeezed him a little harder and blew at the sensitive head. My tongue flickered over the tip and then I blew again.

"God! How do you do that?"

It was definitely time to stop talking. "Do you really want me to answer that? My mouth is a little busy at the moment..." I grinned and then ran my tongue from the base of his cock to the tip. That worked. After that he didn't say a word. He did moan a lot, though. Soft grunts of pleasure that urged me on.

I teased him with my lips, nibbling and licking all over his erection. I was a little amazed to feel his hands on my head, guiding me, pulling me closer, for I had thought he'd have some qualms about having a man doing this to him. It was a pleasure to oblige him, to finally feel him in my mouth. I moved my head slowly, trying to keep a steady rhythm. My Highlander wasn't the least bit hesitant, raising his hips to push himself deeper into my mouth. To feel him move with abandon just fuelled my arousal.

His moans were getting more urgent, telling me that it wouldn't take much longer for him to explode. I didn't care. I wasn't going to slow down. Not now, when I finally had what I wanted.

Duncan groaned and then pushed me away from him. I didn't even have enough time to protest before he threw me on my back and covered my body with his. When he began to undulate against me, the angle and pressure of his every thrust bringing me closer to the edge, I lost all confidence in the Watchers and their chronicles. The man who was making me groan and squirm under him was most definitely not the straight- laced, solely skirt-chasing Scot his chronicles described.

I opened my mouth to tease him about keeping secrets, but the only words I managed to gasp, were, "Harder! Now, Duncan!"

He lowered his head and captured my lips with his as he began to move faster.

Our movements were getting frantic. Soon I could feel Duncan tense and then spasm in the grip of his climax. Oh, it was just perfect! I shuddered as I felt the warm moisture oozing over my stomach and then screamed his name when I came.

It was wonderful to hold him against me. Duncan rolled off me, but I followed his movements and squeezed him tight, not wanting to let him go. His breath tickled my neck and then I felt his tongue follow the lobe of my ear. I sighed contentedly. It was a perfect way to spend a rainy day.

"This was quite unexpected."

I kissed his shoulder. "Not really. I've wanted this for years." Three long years, when secrets and other lovers had kept us apart.

"Oh?"

"Oh, yes." I didn't even regret all the missed opportunities anymore. All that mattered was the present.

"Me... Adam. We have to get moving." The regret in Duncan's voice made me smile.

After a lingering kiss I sat up. "You're right. We'll continue this when we get to the hotel." I turned to glance at Connor and began to laugh when I realized that he wasn't in the tent anymore. I hadn't even noticed that he'd left.

"What's so funny?"

I gestured at the place the Highlander had sat. "It seems we were a bit too much for your cousin."

Duncan snorted and turned to grab his boxers.

The rest of the journey was wonderful. There was no danger of Duncan falling off Ned's back now that he was glued to me. We talked mostly about insignificant things, just enjoying each other’s company. It was good to be able to chat with him without having to worry about crossing the line.

Even Connor's constant grinning didn't annoy me. After all, he did have the right to be a little smug.

Duncan squeezed me a little and then leaned closer to my ear. "I must say that Connor's attitude towards this is quite shocking. I've never talked with him about these kinds of things, because I was always afraid that he'd react badly."

"Speaking of shocks, what do you think Joe will say when he hears about this?"

"Oh, God!"

I craned my neck and kissed him on the lips. "Oh, yes. Did you know that the Watchers have a very detailed chronicles about your sex-life and there's not one page about men?"

"What? How detailed?" My Highlander sounded worried. "And how do you know about my chronicles?"

"I read them of course. After all, you have quite a reputation, and I browsed through everything the Watchers had on you long before we ever met. I read them a bit more thoroughly about a week after Kalas was arrested. I must say that most of the entries are highly entertaining." I didn't even try to keep the amusement out of my voice.

"That's it! As soon as we get back to civilization, I want to read the Methos-chronicles!"

At least he had the sense to whisper the last words. I chuckled. "You can read the official chronicle whenever you want. Unfortunately there's nothing interesting in there. Too bad you can't read my private diaries. I'm currently writing in a Finno-Ugrian dialect that died about fifteen hundred years ago. It was never a written language, so I write it phonetically." That incident with Kalas had taught me a lesson. The journals were for me, not for some headhunter who accidentally stumbled across them.

Duncan scoffed and muttered a few chosen profanities in Gaelic. I answered him in the same language. He was quiet for a while. "What do you think he'll say?"

"Joe? I think he'll be happy to begin a new chapter on your chronicle. Not every Watcher finds a new aspect in an Immortal who's been Watched rather constantly for over three and a half centuries." I couldn't help adding, "Don't forget about Richie. I'm sure he'll be overjoyed when you tell him that you've had a roll in the hay with the old and wise..."

I had to squeeze the saddle horn when Duncan's shocked exclamations startled Ned. After prancing a little he settled down. So did we. No more teasing for the rest of the voyage. Not while we were riding, anyway.

When we rested the horses a few hours after the rain had stopped, we let Connor do all the work and just stood next to the horses acting like two teenagers.

The Highlander just grinned and shook his head. "You two are impossible!"

Yes, we were. A few more kisses and then we hurried to Stoede.

Even though it was already dark, Henderson was still working. He waved at us when we emerged from the forest and motioned us to get the horses inside. He didn't react to the fact that there were now three of us in any way.

Duncan slid off the horse and then I followed his example reluctantly. I walked Ned to the stable. He seemed to be more restless than usual and whinnied as a stable boy came towards us. I knew exactly how he felt. I hadn't met a horse like that for over three centuries and I hated to walk away from him.

I looked into his eyes and the words came out of my mouth before I could even think. "Thank you."

He laid his head on my shoulder and I swallowed. Getting all misty eyed over a horse? Stranger things have happened.

Someone behind me burst into laughter and then I heard Henderson's voice. "Goddammit, kid. You really know your way with that horse."

Connor chuckled and then left the stable with Henderson. I watched the stable boy walk Ned away.

I felt Duncan move to stand right behind me and gratefully leaned into his embrace. He kissed my neck and then whispered, "You really care for that horse."

I didn't know how to explain him what I felt for Ned. "Yes. He's a good companion." I wasn't sure he'd understand. Most people didn't. But then again most people hadn't lived in a time when a good horse was more valuable than a dozen foot soldiers or a small farm.

"I know the feeling." His hand squeezed mine. "I'll wait for you outside."

I stood there for a long time.

I didn't realize how long I'd spent staring at the distance, having mushy thoughts about horses, until I saw Joe standing in the yard next to Duncan. The Watcher grinned when he saw me. "I see being a nursemaid to two dour Scots hasn't been too much for you, my friend."

If he only knew. "Not at all. Where's Kesti?"

"He was released from the hospital two days ago." Joe frowned and then told us that he'd sent the young Watcher out of Stoede. My friend had found out about Kemppain and hadn't wanted the young man to witness his beheading. His worries had been unnecessary. The Immortal had disappeared a day after that.

Connor was disappointed to hear that his enemy had left town, too. It would have been too good to be true to catch the bastard this soon. Whatever had happened to Dmitri Kemppain didn't interest me all that much, though. I just wanted to be alone with Duncan.

After thanking Henderson once more, we all climbed into the rental car and then headed to the hotel.

I'd seen Duncan's room and knew that the bed in my room was much bigger. I steered him to the elevator and slapped his hand when he tried to push a button. "My place." I whispered it into his ear, not knowing how Joe would react if he found out about the change in our relationship and not really caring. We'd handle that later.

"Sounds good." My Highlander smiled. He accepted the key Joe handed to him, but didn't make a move to get out of the elevator on the third floor. The Watcher raised an eyebrow, while Connor shook with silent laughter.

As soon as we got into the suite, we walked straight into my room. Connor could handle Joe's questions. He was a bright lad.

Duncan sank on the bed and stretched. "Now what?"

"We'll order some food, take a long shower together and then have mind blowing sex." I grinned at the look on his face. "Then again, I don't feel all that hungry."

"What about that shower?"

I stretched out next to him. "Why bother cleaning up when we'll just get dirty a few minutes later?"

"After spending days on horseback, bathing isn't negotiable. Besides, you sound awfully sure of yourself." Duncan ran his hand down my side. "What if I don't want to get messy later?"

Tease. I thought for a moment and then jumped off the bed, dragging him with me towards the small toilet that was next to room. "We'll get messy and take a shower at the same time." That shower stall was much smaller than the one in the main bathroom, but we'd manage.

"A compromise. I like it." My Highlander smiled and began to pull off his clothes.

A few hours later we were sitting on my bed, finishing a very late dinner. We'd taken a short nap right after the shower, but had both been too hungry to really sleep. It was wonderful to just sit there and eat, being actually able to taste the food before washing it down with beer. No ham, no beans, no lukewarm water with dead bugs floating in it.

Duncan was wearing a soft terrycloth bathrobe, looking extremely cute with his hair down. He emptied his glass and then moved the platter back to the nightstand. "I think I should go and get some clean clothes." He glanced at my wristwatch that was on the table. "I don't think there's anyone out in the hallway at this time of night."

I followed his gaze. It was almost two am. No, I didn't think that there was anyone out there either. And even if there were, they probably wouldn't mind seeing a handsome Scot wearing only a bathrobe that reached just above his knees. I knew I wouldn't.

My Highlander knelt on the floor and fished the key to his room from under the bed. I wondered how it had gotten there, and how did Duncan remember where it was.

He got up, pulled the bathrobe down, spoiling a very nice view. "I'll just grab some things and come right back here. Mind if I take your key too? I'd hate to wake Connor or Joe up when I return."

Thinking still about the divine sight that had just been covered, and feeling a bit smug about the fact that he was anxious of getting back to me, I just nodded. Then I shook my head, not sure how he'd phrased the question. "What? Yes, do take the key."

Duncan smiled and headed to the door.

I walked him into the hallway and then kissed him. "I'll go see how our friends are doing." With some luck, they were already in bed and as soon as Duncan got back, we could get some sleep, too. Or at least get back to bed.

"I'll be right back."

I went to the door that led to the main suite and then remembered that I didn't have the key anymore. Groaning, I knocked the door, hoping that I wouldn't worry the men inside. Connor could think that I was Kemppain, for why would I knock?

I heard footsteps and turned around to see my Highlander walking back to me, holding out his hand.

"Miss me already?"

He laughed. "I thought you might need this." He handed me the key to the suite.

I didn't even try to resist the urge to slap his well shaped ass and then hissed, "Go get some clean clothes!" I opened the door and returned him the key. I was still laughing when the door closed behind me.

A very odd sight greeted me. Connor was sitting in a chair, a few feet from the couch where Joe was sprawled. I had never seen the Scot so relaxed. Of course I had never seen him so drunk either. "I see you're having a good time. How much have you been drinking?"

"Just..." Joe squinted his eyes. "Connor, is there one or two bottles on the table?"

I saw that Connor was in no condition to answer him. "Okay, I get the picture. Is there a reason for this little impromptu party?"

"Connor here wanted to get some information. About me. And about you too. Don't worry, I didn't tell him anything." Joe leered at me. "And we did have something to celebrate. How are you and Duncan?" The leer just got worse.

Connor looked embarrassed. "He guessed it all by himself. I didn't tell him anything."

"You two are impossible! It's not really your business, but... we're just fine." Oh, yes. More than fine. It was good to see that Joe wasn't freaked out by the change in our relationship. By the look on his face I guessed that he'd known about our feelings for a long time. It wasn't a big surprise. He was a Watcher after all. Observing us was what he got paid for.

"Here's to true love!" The Highlander emptied his glass.

Oh, so that's why he was so ready to accept our relationship. I'd never have thought that the great Highlander would be such a romantic, but I guess I should have. After all, I knew Duncan was.

Joe had passed out and we carried him to his bedroom. Connor staggered back to the living room while I helped the Watcher to get comfortable. Then I followed the Highlander. He was back on the chair, sipping whiskey. I went to the mini-bar to get a beer. We had some things to work through.

I asked him what Joe had told him, and laughed at his sullen expression when he confessed that he'd tried to fish some information about my identity.

I thought about what to do. Connor was Duncan's cousin, so maybe I could trust him with the information he yearned so much. After all, if he didn't react well to my revelation, I had a few options of dealing with him. I could blackmail him with the Watchers, or if things got really bad, I knew I could kill him. Of course that would make my lover seriously pissed. Maybe I'd just act like he'd dreamt about our conversation. I knew how easily one dreamt of strange things when drunk.

As the master of games and intrigue, I couldn't just blurt my name out loud and I lead the conversation to old Immortals. The Scot was so tipsy that I got him to talk about his oldest teachers honestly and I was touched by the way he described Ramirez and Nakano. I'd never met the sorcerer, but I'd bumped into the Egyptian a few times and it was nice to hear that his last student had really cared for him.

We'd just started to talk about Methos, when Duncan came back from his room.

It was so amusing to see Duncan startle when Connor continued our conversation from where it had been left when the younger man barged in. The Highlander asked me, "So, where were we? Methos?" And my lover sent whiskey flying all over the table and his clean clothes.

Duncan realized that I hadn't told his cousin about me being the 'great old Immortal' yet, and stood there with a glass in his hand, waiting to hear what I'd planned.

I asked Connor how he'd treat Methos if he met him.

The older Scot looked a little baffled, but he answered my question and even confessed that he might be a bit awed if he met the oldest Immortal. Right. Like he wouldn't patronize him, argue with him about every little thing and call him lad.

Connor's words made my Highlander choke on the whiskey he'd been sipping. When he stopped spluttering, he laughed again, making his cousin scowl at him. Then Connor glanced at me. "Honestly, Adam, I don't understand what you see in him. He's just a brat."

"Yes, but he's my brat."

Duncan stopped laughing and came to sit next to me. He was able to stay calm for the next sentence and a half and then continued laughing.

This time Connor didn't just make a sarcastic remark. "Do you think this is funny?"

"Yes! And so would you, if you knew..." He glanced at me and grimaced. "Sorry."

Well, technically it was my right to shock the Highlander, but since Duncan seemed to love astonishing his cousin, he could tell him. "Duncan. If you enjoy this that much, go ahead and tell him."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure of what? What are you talking about?" Connor sounded really annoyed.

I turned my gaze back to him. "About who I am. Yes, Duncan, I'm sure. He's your cousin and I think I can trust him to keep his mouth shut."

Connor got up, the slight swaying spoiling the offended look. He huffed, "How magnanimous of you. However, I don't care who you are. I think I'll go to bed now."

"See, now you hurt his feelings." Duncan rubbed my thigh with his palm, making my whole leg tingle. "You're not all that wise after all, Methos."

We both stared at Connor, waiting for his reaction. His mouth was open, and for a moment I was sure he'd faint. He closed his mouth and swallowed hard "You're kidding, right?"

Oh, yes. I was well known for my sense of humor. "No, we're not."

"You're Methos? A five thousand years old man? That's ridiculous!"

That was certainly flattering. At least he didn't make a comment about my wisdom.

Connor shook his head and then looked thoughtfully at me. His expression changed from shocked to curious and he staggered back to his chair. "Does Dawson know?"

"He found out after we'd known each other for over a decade."

That seemed to make him feel a bit better. Turning to Duncan, he asked, "What about you?"

My lover stuck his foot in his mouth by diplomatically announcing that he'd known who I was from the moment he'd seen me and Connor's expression darkened again. Duncan told his cousin about the first time we'd met and the older Scot mumbled to himself something about surprises and true love.

Then he smiled at me and reached out with his hand. "I think I have to do this properly. Welcome to the Clan MacLeod, Methos."

I was speechless. Then I grabbed his hand. I looked at Duncan and saw him smiling at me proudly. So I had the official approval to date him? I was touched. I really was, even though I realized that a big thanks for Connor's easy acceptance went to all the single malt he'd downed.

Anyway, it was a fairly sweet moment. When Connor let go of my hand, I hugged my Highlander tight. He lowered his head and captured my lips with his.

Duncan broke the kiss to gasp air and then whispered, "Do you think he'll be all right?" He gestured at Connor, who was now obviously asleep, resting his head against the backrest, his mouth slightly open.

"He'll be just fine!" For now. I was certain that in the morning, when he was sober, he wouldn't be. He might think now that he was all right with who I really was, but I knew better. I mean, the man just heard that one of the legends we have is real and sitting in the same room and he just welcomed me to his family? He would definitely get to the 'awe- phase' tomorrow.

Actually, I was looking forward to it.

Duncan was moving his left hand in small circles all over my chest, his fingers brushing against a nipple from time to time. That light touch made me want to rip off my shirt to give him better access. I really didn't want to talk about Connor anymore. As a matter of fact, I didn't want to talk at all, but I knew we should get away from the living room before we could start communicating non-verbally. Again. Who needed sleep anyway? "Now, why don't we go back to your room and continue our earlier conversation?"

My Highlander nibbled my lips. "I think that would be extremely wise, old man."

Old man? I'd show him exactly how old I was! "I'll get you for that, Highlander!"

"Oh, you will." Duncan squirmed off the couch and then knelt in front of me. He looked so adorable, I didn't have the willpower to push him away. Then I couldn't have moved even if my life depended on it. He ran his palms up my thighs, squeezing my rapidly hardening erection and then slowly slid the zipper of my jeans open.

I swallowed hard, finally managing to whisper, "Duncan! Your cousin..."

"Has passed out. He wouldn't wake up even if the roof fell on top of him." He grinned, yanked my boxers out of his way and then buried his face to my groin. I felt his tongue on my skin and grasped a handful of his hair, pulling him closer. At that moment I wouldn't have noticed if the roof fell on top of us.

"Is that so!"

Duncan froze as he heard his cousin's words. I looked across the room and saw the shocked look at Connor's face. When he realized that I was looking, he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Would you two please stop doing this to me? If you can't keep your hands off each other, at least go somewhere private!"

I got up and somehow managed to close the zipper, even though my pants were still definitely too tight for my condition. I saw Duncan nod at his cousin and then he pushed me towards the bedroom.

The fact that Connor had caught us --me, actually-- pants down, would have probably embarrassed me a lot more if my whole consciousness hadn't been filled with Duncan. After years of wanting him, I was now determined to spend as much time with him as possible. Preferably in bed. We could talk later.

As soon as the door was closed, I jumped him. Again. I knew that the bed would have been more comfortable than the floor, but the carpet was very soft and when Duncan was writhing against me. Any surface where we could be horizontal was just fine.

It was amazing how easily we were able to tear each other’s clothes off even though I was lying on top of him. We wrestled playfully, Duncan obviously intending to pin me to the floor. I was about to give in to him after a few minutes of rolling around and groping at each other, but then I thought how it would feel if he really nailed me to the carpet. And even with years of experience, it wouldn't go well without something slippery.

I gnawed at his collar bone. "Duncan. Do you have any..."

"Any what?" He groaned as I slid my thigh between his.

"Anything slippery."

"Oh. No, I don't have anything."

"You're not very well prepared for this. You might even lose your merit badge if this kind of a negligence continues."

Those dark brown eyes glinted with amusement. "This is your room, Methos. You should have brought all the necessary equipment."

"Moi?" I tried to act shocked and probably failed miserably when Duncan's hands began to roam all over my chest. Keeping my reputation as a calm and detached mythical creature was impossible when I was moaning and writhing with pleasure.

"Yes, you. It's one of those unwritten rules of a civilized society. 'The one who seduces, brings the lube.' "

I grabbed his hands and shook my head. "I thought it was; 'If you want to get inside your lover, bring the lube.' "

He burst into laughter. "Whatever."

"Ha!" I grinned. "I was right all along. It was your job to bring it!"

Duncan tensed. Then he scrambled up and hurried to the living room. I was so shocked by his sudden departure that I ran after him, not caring if Connor was still on the couch. I didn't see anyone in the living room, but I was certain that my Highlander hadn't left the suite without his clothes. I heard a sound coming from the main bathroom and stepped hesitantly to the doorway. "Duncan?"

He was rummaging through the cabinet, muttering to himself, "There has to be something slippery in here..."

Forcing myself to turn around, I return to my room. I wanted to do this in bed, not on the bathroom floor. I lay on my back, trying very hard to breathe calmly and keep my hands at my sides. It wouldn't have been polite to invite my lover in and then finish off without him.

I don't know what he found, but it didn't really matter as long as it worked. Duncan was back in the bedroom in a few minutes and then began to apply whatever it was he'd found on me. It was a good thing that the other men were probably snoring right then in a drunken haze, but even if they'd have been in the living room, listening, I couldn't have kept the little moans inside.

To hell with my reputation. Those nimble fingers that were so well used to holding a sword, were also very good in driving me insane.

When I thought we were both more than ready, I pushed him on his back and straddled him, grinning as I saw his stunned expression. "I said you'll get inside me. I never said anything about who gets to be on top."

"Methos..."

A lingering kiss stopped him from saying anything. I moved a little, positioning myself right where I wanted to be, and slowly lowered myself on his erection.

Duncan threw his head back, closing his eyes for a moment and then focused his gaze on mine. I loved the sight of him, those hungry brown pools of desire, the sweat glistening on his upper lip, his face twisted into a grimace of pleasure that was so intense it was almost painful.

I must have had the same expression on my face. Gods it felt good. I didn't rush things, it was far more pleasurable to feel him fill me an inch at the time. Sweet agony that didn't hurt a bit.

When he was completely sheathed inside me, I laid my hands on his chest and began to rock myself in a slow, but steady rhythm. I'd always loved doing this, controlling the angle and depth of the thrusts. Now I was loving it even more, seeing Duncan's eyes glaze over every time I moved down on his erection.

"Methos... Harder!"

Demanding, weren't we? No, this time I intended to set the pace to our lovemaking. I'd wanted this for a long time and I didn't want it to end too soon. "Patience, Highlander."

He answered with a groan and thrust his hips up. I stopped moving immediately and smiled when he made a desperate little whimper. When he lay still, I continued moving. Every single thrust filling me, making me gasp for breath.

Of course I couldn't tease him forever. Not when I wanted it to be hot and rough even more than he did. I didn't even try to stop his hands from grasping my hips and then I was incapable of doing anything, as he started to move me up and down like I didn't weigh anything. Gods, that strength was such a turn on. He controlled it, guided it. There was nothing for me to do but to enjoy the ride.

The reverse of our roles couldn't have happened at a better time. Even though we'd already had a roll in the hay, or two, that day, this was something different. There was no way I could have stayed in charge of this for long.

I didn't want to be in charge. I wanted to hold, and be held. To have him make love to me, not the other way around. When we were moving together, giving pleasure to each other, there was no need for me to detach myself from all those fierce emotions his mere presence brought to me. It was safe to feel them, it wasn't necessary to try to squash them. I didn't have to be the manipulator, either. All I had to do was to share myself with him completely.

It would have been unthinkable with anyone else.

There was nothing apologetic in the way he slammed me down on him. It was as if he knew just exactly what I wanted of him. All my defenses were shutting down one after another. It was damn fortunate that I was already head over heels for him, because the sight of him made me fall in love with him again, and again. Every single survival instinct I had left was drowned under the pure pleasure of this moment, and the hope of others to come. It would have been damn frightening, if my whole body hadn't been on fire. Body and mind both.

I touched his hands, not to pry them off, but to hold them in place, to make sure he wouldn't let go. It was just to confirm the fact I already knew. Duncan would hold onto me for as long as I wanted him to.

Every breath I was taking was a mixture of gasping and moaning his name. "Duncan!" It was so damn intense, but it wasn't intense enough. "More!"

His gaze moved from my face down my body. His pupils dilated when he focused on my groin. "Methos. Touch yourself. I want to see..."

His words were almost enough to make me come. To hear his voice ask, no, order me to do that was quite possibly the most erotic thing I'd heard for centuries. I obeyed him instantly, moving my hand to my erection. Duncan moaned as I began to stroke myself and then gasped my name over and over again, keeping his gaze on my swiftly moving hand all the time.

"My God, Methos, I…"

Oh yes. "Yes, Duncan. Yes!" Loved him, wanted him, needed him. Trusted him. Everything.

This was definitely it. I'd asked for it and now I was getting all the intensity, all the pleasure I'd ever wanted. It was almost unbelievable how good it was, his strength and my own measured strokes moving me closer and closer to ecstasy.

Then a soft gasp made me open my eyes. Wondering just when had I closed them, I looked up to meet Duncan's burning gaze.

And I let go of everything. There was nothing in the world but the two of us, our bodies moving together, our heavy breathing filling the room with sounds of passion. Passion and love.

I froze, wanting to remain in the knife's edge forever, enjoying the one perfect moment of pleasure. Then my climax hit me and I screamed, convulsing on top of Duncan. His fingers bruised my hip when he slammed me down on him hard for the last time, his grip the only thing that kept me on top of him when his whole body arched and then shook violently.

Sagging against him, I tried to catch my breath. I felt his heartbeat against my ear and knew that life didn't get any better than this.

After lifting me off him, Duncan sighed happily and squeezed me tight. "I never thought this would happen. I've always thought you'd want someone special. Not a stubborn Scot like me."

His words made me smile. "You're special." I yawned, feeling like I could just melt through the mattress. Great food, great sex, and now I was lying in a bed with the man I loved. I hadn't felt this relaxed in ages.

Duncan kissed the top of my head. "So are you, old man. So are you. Annoying as hell, but special. I've always known it. And I guess I've always wanted to be with you, tell you how much I care for you and hold you in my arms."

I could have listened to that for all eternity. It was hard to keep my eyes open and after I found the most comfortable spot on his chest to rest my head on I simply closed them. I didn't need to see him in order to enjoy his presence.

"What about tomorrow?"

My mind was shutting down. "Tomorrow we'll return to the real world." Rubbing my nose on his collar bone, I wrapped one leg over his hip. He was just the right size for me. A perfect living, breathing mattress.

"Methos, there's something I..." He cleared his throat. "I really do love you. Ever since we left Paris I've wanted to tell you that I want..."

Gods, I would have loved to hear the whole sentence, but I was so tired, I couldn't help drifting towards sleep. I mumbled that I loved him too and the next thing he heard was probably my light snoring.

I woke up alone. I felt well rested, but because we hadn't bothered to wash ourselves after our late night messiness, I was also itching all over. Grabbing a sheet, I wandered to the main suite and headed towards the big bathroom. The small shower in my private toilet wasn't really all that good place to get cleaned.

Fortunately there was a soap bar in the shower stall, since someone had used all the hotel's shower gel. After washing, I wrapped myself into a robe and went to get dressed.

When I came back to the living room, Joe was there, sitting on the couch, drinking a cup of black coffee. He gestured me to join him.

"Morning."

"Actually, it's more like afternoon. How are you feeling?"

He grimaced. "A lot better than a few hours ago. I don't know what possessed me last night. I should have known better than to start drinking whiskey with a MacLeod." His voice was hushed, like he was afraid his head would explode if he spoke with his normal tone.

I didn't even try to hide the smile. "Yes, you should have."

The glare I got made it obvious that he wasn't all that interested in that topic anymore.

"So, you decided to tell Connor the truth about yourself."

"He told you that?"

"Yes." Joe smiled wryly. "For a moment there I thought that I'd done something really stupid last night and told him about you myself. I almost had a coronary."

"Sorry. I thought that I should as well tell him the truth. He can be an even bigger pain in the ass than Duncan and I didn't want to listen to his questions anymore." Not to mention the fact that I loved to shock him.

Joe mumbled something and then sighed. "Just don't hang a sign on your neck that tells everyone your true identity."

Well, wasn't that a good advice? I was just about to do that. My friend winced as he rattled the spoon against the cup and I decided it was best to change the subject. A mortal who was suffering from a hangover wouldn't probably appreciate more sarcasm. "So, where's everyone?"

"Connor went to church to light his little candle for Heather. I haven't seen Duncan after..." My friend turned to the door as he saw me tense at the familiar buzz. "Oh, there he is."

"Joe. How are you this morning?"

"Just fine, I... Don't seem to be able to finish a sentence this morning. If you'll excuse me..." He got up and went to answer his cellular.

I chuckled a little and then poured myself a cup of coffee from the pot that was on the table. There was some breakfast left, but since I was never really all hungry in the morning, I just sipped the warm liquid.

Duncan followed my example and also buttered himself a piece of bread. He seemed to be ravenous, since he concentrated completely on his food. He didn't even glance at me in between the bites.

Joe came back to us, looking worried. "I just got a call from the HQ. Kemppain's been seen in Stockholm, Sweden."

What? Now I really knew he was insane. No rational person goes to Scandinavia in the wintertime. It's cold up there!

"I think I should make a few calls and reservations." My Watcher friend frowned. "I'm sure Connor will want to go after him as soon as he hears about this."

Duncan nodded at him. "You'd better make reservations for me too, because I'm going with him." He thought for a while. "I'd better go to the airport alone. Connor will just nag all the way there if he hears about me going, so I'll just stay out of his way. As soon as he gets here, send him to the airport. Then I'll follow him."

"Are you sure? Don't you think he can handle this on his own?" I really thought that it was a bad idea to go with Connor. Surely the Highlander was more than capable of taking care of himself.

I also realized that he'd said 'me'. Not 'us'.

My Highlander shook his head. "You don't understand, Methos. We started this together. I feel like we should see it through together." Then he continued with a small voice. "He came here for me. I owe him a debt of honor."

He had to say that, didn't he? I remembered something I had read once. 'Fundamentally, honor is itself a debt, a code of behavior, a promise, something inside yourself that you owed the others who saw it in you.' The Scots definitely saw it in each other. What could I say? Forbid him from going?

"Do you want me to come with you?" I had to phrase it that way. The 'don't you want me to go', that came to my mind first sounded too plaintive.

Duncan smiled a little. "Yes." Then he added hesitantly, "If you want to."

"Then we'll go together. Just remember that it's his quest. We'll just watch."

He glared at me. "Methos..."

"Next time someone challenges me, will you be my knight in shining armor and rescue me? Fight my fights?" I was being completely unfair -- even a bit hypocritical after all the things that had happened in Paris-- and I knew it.

My Highlander shook his head. "You don't need a guardian. I'm your friend, not your nursemaid."

What? I opened my mouth to ask him what the hell did he mean with that, but he was already heading to the door.

"I'll go and pack. Let me know when Connor leaves."

Joe was a very wise young man and didn't say anything. He busied himself with the phonebook and then started to make the reservations.

Duncan was sitting alone on the back seat of our rental car. Joe had looked curious when the Scot had gestured him to take the seat next to the driver, but he didn't say anything. Connor had left for the airport about ten minutes earlier and we were now following him.

I was baffled by my Highlander's behavior. He hadn't spoken to me after he'd left to go to his room, and now he wasn't even looking at me.

Glancing at the rear-view mirror, I noticed how pale Duncan was. I'd tried to start a conversation a few minutes earlier, but only Joe had seemed to be interested in talking.

After three hours of driving, I couldn't ignore the choking feeling in my chest anymore. Everything had been perfect the night before. What had changed? Had I done something wrong? I hoped that was the case, so I could at least try to fix things up. The only other explanation I could think of was that he hadn't really meant it when he said he loved me and was now regretting it. That would be too cruel. A twist of fate that would leave me alone once again.

For now there was no turning back. No way to return to the friendship we'd had.

I barely watched the road as I tried to think of what to do. I couldn't let him brood any longer. As soon as we got to the airport, we'd have to concentrate on the hunt. Hesitation and confusion could get us all killed.

Of course there was also the possibility that I wouldn't have to worry about the hunt. If Duncan didn't want to talk to me, it was more than likely that he didn't want me to go to Sweden with him and Connor either. But he'd looked happy when I said I was going with them. I had to at least try something.

Duncan didn't even seem to notice that I'd stopped the car. He just sat there, staring into the distance.

Joe looked at me questioningly. "Is something wrong?"

"Would you mind driving for a while? I need some rest."

He realized what I meant and nodded. "Sure. Get in the back seat and take a nap or something." He reached for the door handle without further comments.

I yanked the car door open and stepped out.

Duncan looked startled when I climbed in next to him. For a moment I thought he'd jump out to get away from me, but then he sighed and inched away, refusing to meet my gaze. I pretended to watch the scenery as we continued towards the airport, trying to figure out how to approach the subject.

I touched his leg and he flinched like he'd been burned. He stared at my hand like it was something disgusting and then turned to glance to Joe. So touching wasn't the right way to handle this. Fine, I'd think of something else.

"We need to buy some warm clothes as soon as we get to Stockholm. It's very cold there."

Duncan just grunted and continued staring at the back of Joe's head.

"It's been a while since I've been in Scandinavia. A couple of centuries to be exact. I spent a few decades traveling all around Europe, visiting the major Universities in almost every country, and I had some great time in Uppsala. When I got thrown out of there after a party a friend of mine had insisted on us going to, I went East and spent a few months in..." I babbled on, talking about the things I'd done, and realized that my lover wasn't listening to a word I said.

That was alarming. Usually he was at least mildly interested in the things I'd seen and done, if only to challenge everything I said. But now my Highlander was so lost in thought, that he didn't pay any attention to me.

So I couldn't do it the usual way. How could I try some enigmatic little mind game when he wasn't playing by the rules? Subtle probing or circling around the subject were obviously not options here either. They'd just make him withdraw even more from me. Damn. I wished I had more time to think it through. I hate it when I have to improvise.

My hand returned to Duncan's thigh. He turned to look at me with a melancholic expression in his eyes.

"Would you like to tell me what's going on here?" I tried to stay calm, even though my heart was racing.

He tried to evade my question. "Nothing. I'm just worried about Connor."

"I don't know why you even bother to lie to me." He's gorgeous and intelligent and quite possibly the worst liar I've ever met.

"I'm not lying," Duncan lied and then looked down at his hands. "I'm just not in the mood for talking right now."

We'd talk for hours if necessary. I wouldn't let go until I got an explanation. "Just tell me what's wrong."

He shook his head, looking miserable.

"Duncan..." To hell with the emotional shields. This couldn't hurt me any more even if I allowed the whole world to see how I felt. I let all my confusion and hurt pour into that one little word.

"Don't do this, Methos."

I took a deep breath. "Do what? I have no idea of what you're talking about. Did I do something wrong last night? Or was it something I said?"

"You didn't say anything! That's just the point!" Duncan yelled, probably startling even himself. "We spent all our time in bed. I'm wondering if you meant those things you said about love after all. If you just said it to..." He laughed bitterly. "That's a bit arrogant of me, isn't it? To think that you'd go through all that trouble to get me drop my pants."

I was shocked into silence.

"After you fell asleep last night, I began to think about what happens when we go back to Seacouver. You know what? I realized that I have no idea what happens when we get there. I don't even know if you're coming there with me or not. Real world, Methos. How can I be sure this isn't just... some kind of a diversion for you?" There was no more anger in Duncan's voice. He just sounded very tired.

Did he really believe I would walk away from him? That this was all just some little fling? That I wouldn't have acted like this in Seacouver if I'd learned about his feelings?

Or did he think that since I knew that my Highlander would never kill a person he'd held in his arms, I'd planned this to be my ultimate life insurance? I didn't need to do anything to keep him from killing me! Dear Gods, he hadn't even brought a sword with him when he'd confronted me about my past! Life didn't get much safer than that, no matter how much sex we had.

He was the only Immortal I could trust with my life, no matter what happened.

I had completely misread him. He didn't want me to go away, he was afraid I'd leave him. I wanted to kiss him until we both fainted, but he'd have probably just misunderstood that too.

"You could have asked me this morning what I had in mind. If you'd done that, I would have told you that I have no intention of leaving you."

"Ask you? I've never gotten a straight answer from..." He blinked and grabbed my hand. "Methos?"

"I insist that we do some redecorating, though. The loft really needs more bookshelves. It doesn't feel like home if I don't have my books with me." I kept my tone light, not wanting to get too emotional. After all, sarcasm had worked well before.

It didn't work this time. Duncan's voice was quiet when he said, "I thought you'd leave as soon as Kemppain's dead."

I didn't care that Joe was probably hanging onto our every word. "Duncan, if you want me to leave, you'll have to fight me. I'm not going anywhere. I can be a persistent little bugger and you're stuck with me. Even though I'm not planning on spending the rest of my life joined at the hip to you, I love you and I'll never let you go! Understand that!"

It wasn't supposed to come out just like that, but I was glad I'd said it. If my Highlander needed me to convince him about my feelings, I'd do or say anything. I hadn't been handling it very well and thought that if I continued screwing up our relationship, I might as well paint my nose red and buy floppy shoes, so I'd look like the clown I felt like.

Duncan's eyes widened and he swallowed a few times. "You mean that?"

This time I did kiss him. He answered my kiss for a moment and then pushed me away.

"Now what?"

He was blushing furiously. "We have company!"

He'd been ready to have sex with me in front of his cousin, but one little kiss was too much when Joe was present? Did he honestly think that the mortal didn't already know about us? Especially after that outburst of his? "Joe doesn't mind. Do you, Joe?"

The Watcher grinned at us from the rear-view mirror. "Of course not. Just try to keep it decent back there."

"You knew?" Duncan sounded shocked.

"Please! I've known about you two for ages."

It was really amusing to hear the squeal Duncan had obviously meant as a question. It kept me from dwelling in the fact that I'd been blind to something a man a hundred times my junior had seen so clearly.

Joe chuckled. "You know, this will be one hell of a chapter in your chronicle." He saw the Scot's shocked expression and laughed harder. "Relax. This will stay between us. It would be too complicated anyway. 'Duncan MacLeod started a romantic relationship with Methos the Old One, who currently impersonates a former Watcher'."

Watcher-humor. That was one of the reasons I decided to leave the organization. "Thanks, Joe."

"You're welcome. And Methos, it's good to see that things worked out between you two. I really am happy for you both."

My Highlander shook his head, muttering something under his breath, and then smiled. "So this won't bother you at all."

I for one wasn't at all disturbed by the lingering kiss.

We said goodbye to Joe at the airport. He was going back to Seacouver and he promised that he'd keep in touch if he heard something new about Kemppain. After all, this wasn't just a personal vendetta anymore. If Kemppain had been able to organize mortals to attack us, he could do the same to hunt the Watchers.

If the Tribunal had a problem with Joe helping the Scots, Timothy Kesti's medical file would put an end to any objections.

Duncan and I walked past the metal detector and then went to find Connor. It wasn't all that hard to spot him. A tall man, standing alone, wearing a long, beige trench coat. Come to think of it, he really did look like a flasher.

I nudged my Highlander. "You know him better than I do. How will he react when he sees us?"

"Let's just say that it's a blessing he doesn't have his sword with him."

Connor didn't look alarmed when we approached him. He was just trying to recognize the source of the Presences from the crowd. After temples, sacred groves and churches, the airports are the safest places in the world for us. Hundreds of people who all have to go through metal detectors.

I grinned as I saw his gaze focus on Duncan and me. He looked like he was ready to explode.

"What are you two doing here?"

Duncan hurried to answer him. "You didn't think we'd let you do this alone, did you?"

"I don't need a guardian, cousin! I've managed for all these years without your esteemed protection!" The Highlander seemed to think that the case was closed. He acted just like he had on Joe's bar when we'd discussed going after Duncan. This time I didn't think it would be wise to just follow him.

I touched Connor's shoulder. "We're just accompanying you, it's still your hunt." I tightened my grip a little. "Don't be stubborn, Connor, please. Letting us come with you would mean a lot to us, a lot to him."

He cocked his head and thought for a moment. As if he had a choice. Duncan was determined to follow his cousin and I wouldn't let him go without me.

"All right. You can tag along."

Duncan smiled beatifically.

Connor looked around and then nodded towards the little bar. "Let's go and have something to drink. You're buying."

"Sure." My Highlander looked a bit smug until he saw how much a glass of beer cost. He glowered at his cousin while paying for our drinks and told us that we'd pay for that.

We sat in a corner table and drank in silence. I felt a little naked without my sword and had to repeat the words 'airport' and 'metal detector' to myself a few times to ward off panic. After a while I was beginning to relax. It's hard to get into a panic while holding a glass of beer.

Our flight to Paris was announced and I stood up. "Ready?"

Connor nodded, "Ready as ever."

"Let's go then, lad."

The Highlander smiled. He opened his mouth to answer me and then flinched, his eyes widening. He stared at me with his mouth open. So it had finally gotten through his thick Scottish skull. I decided not to pay any attention to him, and turned my gaze back to Duncan.

Connor didn't say anything when we boarded the plane and found our seats. The plane took off and I opened the seatbelt. I don't like being confined or tied into anything. A stewardess was handing out headphones to the passengers who wanted to listen to the radio or the movie they were showing and Connor grabbed a pair with relief plain on his face. He didn't say a word to us.

Duncan leaned closer to me. "What's wrong with him?"

"He just realized that he's actually talking to me. To Methos. He's a little shocked now, but he'll get over it." I'd seen this happen before. People always acted strangely when they found out about my age. Some of them were in awe, others tried to take my head. The most idealistic ones were disappointed.

Only one man had ever offered to protect me.

I glanced at Connor and then whispered to my lover, "I wonder how he'd react if I got up right now and asked him to offer me his head?"

My Highlander looked baffled, but when he saw the wide eyed expression on his cousin's face, he snickered. "Or better yet, why don't I ask you if you wanted to join the mile high clu..."

I didn't want to even think about that and silenced him with a brief kiss, after checking that there was no one near to see that. "I'm shocked, Highlander. I though this relationship wasn't just about sex."

"It's certainly not based on your lousy sense of humor." Duncan grinned and then turned to look at his cousin. "How long will that last? We'll be in Paris in less than ten hours. The flight to Stockholm won't take all that long and he has to be focused on this and not on your age."

"I'll think of something."

"Sure you will. Too bad we're on a plane. If we were back at the loft, you could just sprawl on the couch, scratch your backside and leave empty beer bottles all over the place. That should work. He'd forget all about idolizing you in less than an hour."

That was the downside of this close relationship. My sarcasm was getting into him too. "Very funny."

"I thought so, too." Duncan yawned. "I think I'd better take a nap."

"Go ahead. I'll talk to Connor while you're sleeping."

My Highlander threw a dark look at me, but couldn't say anything before another yawn. He shook his head resignedly and took a better position on the seat. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep.

I thought about what would be the best way to confront Connor. He had looked shocked, but I was certain he wasn't one of those youngsters who thought I had the answer to everything and waited for 'Mythos, the Old Wise Man' to tell them the meaning of life. Blind idolization, not to mention the horrible way they both spelled and pronounced my name, made me nauseous. That kind of behavior was definitely not flattering.

Going through different scenarios in my mind, I wondered how he'd react to them. I shouldn't have bothered. About two hours after Duncan decided to take a nap, the movie ended and the Highlander turned to me.

He removed the headphones and cleared his throat. "I think we need to talk."

I nodded. "Fine. Talk."

"Did you really mean what you said about this? That it's my hunt."

So he was worried that I'd try to claim his prize. "Yes. I have no interest in Kemppain. I don't take heads if I don't have to. Actually I insist that you take his Quickening, "

"Why?" Connor squinted his eyes.

His question deserved the truthful answer. "Kemppain's a dangerous man. I don't want Duncan to risk his head if he doesn't have to. He didn't go after Kemppain in Stoede, he called you. You handle him." I didn't care who took Kemppain's Quickening. As long as he wasn't there to threaten me or my Highlander, everything was just fine.

"What you're saying is that you'd rather see me lose my head than Duncan."

"Yes."

"That's the way it should be. You really are a good guy, but you're also one ruthless old bastard." He sounded amused.

"Yes, I am. You'd better get used to it."

His expression was grave. "I think I will. Since I already like Adam Pierson, it shouldn't be all that hard to get to like you too. It may take some time, though."

I had time. "Don't worry about it. Just let me know when you're through all this gawking and idolizing. It's quite flattering actually, so take your time."

"Oh, shut up!"

The stewardess chose that particular moment to start pushing the drink cart towards us, interrupting our conversation.

Connor seemed to be glad to have a glass in his hand again. He was my kind of man. It was good to get along with the in-laws. We drank in silence and I watched my Highlander sleep. The pressure in the plane forced him to sleep with his mouth slightly open and he looked unbelievably adorable.

"It seems that my cousin knows how to keep a secret after all." There was no trace of annoyance in Connor's voice anymore. If anything, he sounded a little amused.

"Yes." It was amazing that I'd never realized his true feelings towards me. "He does."

"Don't worry. You'll never have to regret that you told me. I swear I will never tell a soul about who you really are."

Oh, that. "Thanks."

He chuckled. "You're welcome. And...Adam?"

"What?" I was amused of the way he emphasized the name.

"Keep Duncan out of my way when we finally find Kemppain. It's my time to have some fun, considering that he's got you."

I raised my eyebrow. Fun? Only a MacLeod would make such a comment. It was probably some inside joke I didn't get. Maybe it was best that way. "I will."

Connor nodded and then raised his glass to his lips.

By the time we got to Paris, Connor was treating me just the way he had before. Duncan seemed to be a little disappointed of that. Apparently he had enjoyed watching his cousin's discomfort.

Charles de Gaulle was packed as usual, people rushing through the big halls, trying to find the right gate. Since we had no idea when or where our connecting flight would be departing, we needed to get some information.

Connor went to the nearest desk and asked the French official about our flight to Stockholm. The woman raised her eyebrow, but didn't make any comments about the Scot's hideous accent. Then she answered him, talking so fast even I had trouble keeping up with her.

The Highlander blinked a couple of times and I could see his face turning red.

The official smiled sweetly.

Duncan pulled his cousin away from the desk and nodded at me. I stepped closer to the smug-looking young woman, ignoring Connor's baleful glare and stage-whispered comments about my English accent.

I smiled at the official and then asked her if she could possibly tell us when our flight was scheduled. If she was annoyed by my linguistic skills, she didn't show it. Had to admire her sangfroid. She guided us to the right gate and the Scots and I marched to the other side of the vast hall.

Connor didn't make any further comments about my accent.

We had hours to wait until we could board our plane and I decided to take a little nap on the hard bench. I was a bit amazed when my Highlander didn't object when I leaned against him.

"No more moral hangovers about public displays of affection?"

Duncan squinted his eyes. "If you really want to use me as a pillow when you're sleeping, you'd better shut up and get on with it."

I snuggled against his chest and did exactly as he'd suggested.

The plane we boarded next was smaller than the one we'd used for the Trans-Atlantic flight. The flight didn't even take four hours and we spent most of the time talking about nothing important. The Scots told each other stories about mutual friends and I enjoyed listening to them. I noticed that even though they talked about times they'd spent together during the centuries, they were very careful not to mention any of Duncan's old girlfriends.

Good.

During the flight, they showed some Swedish film, which we completely ignored. When it ended, the plane's captain made the usual announcement about the country we were heading to in French.

The captain's voice was unnaturally cheerful. "We'll be landing on Arlanda airport in twenty minutes. The weather is unusually warm for this time of year, almost -8 degrees Celsius, and it's snowing."

I shivered at the thought. Unusually warm? The same announcement was repeated in English and Swedish, but no matter the language, the idea of snow still chilled me to the bone.

The plane landed and because we're all gentlemen, we waited until the passengers who seemed to be in a hurry scurried out of the plane. I certainly wasn't in a hurry to leave the warmth yet. As soon as I stepped out, I felt the freezing breeze hit me and then my vision was blurred by flying snowflakes.

The thought of running inside the airport to order a one way ticket to somewhere warm crossed my mind, but I knew that if I did that, I'd have to go alone. This whole business with Kemppain was important to Duncan and he wouldn't leave until he'd seen the other Immortal lose his head. So I ground my teeth together and waded through the snow.

The things I did for love.

We went through customs. Something in Connor's demeanor seemed to raise suspicions in the officials and his luggage was searched. Duncan and I waited for him to gather his belongings, ignoring his complaints and muttered profanities. After doing some business with a very friendly blonde official at the money exchange desk, we hopped into a taxi.

Since I hadn't been in Sweden for centuries I didn't have any idea of where we should stay. Fortunately Connor had a list of good hotels written on a little piece of paper with a very familiar handwriting. I reminded myself to thank Joe once again when we got back to Seacouver.

The taxi driver seemed to be impressed when I translated Connor's request to drive us to the Sheraton. She was even more impressed of the generous tip Duncan gave her. It was her lucky day. If the older Highlander had paid for the ride, I'm sure he'd have haggled with her over the price.

The hotel was huge, the front desk about twenty meters longer than the one in the little hotel in Stoede, and there were over ten smiling clerks waiting to serve us.

Connor looked at us pointedly. "I didn't invite you here. Get your own room."

"Oh no, cousin." My Highlander shook his head. "We'll get a suite just like we did back in Stoede. I'll even pay for it, but I'm not taking the risk of letting you out of my sight."

I saw the older Scot smile slightly. Obviously I wasn't the only one who knew how to push Duncan's buttons.

My Highlander marched to the front desk and asked for a suite with two bedrooms. The receptionist was extremely discreet and didn't make any comments about the different number of beds and customers. He just handed us the keys and up we went. It was good to see that Swedish hospitality hadn't changed in the last few centuries.

Duncan grinned at me when my eyes went straight to the discreet little refrigerator that was positioned to one corner. "You're so predictable, Methos."

I didn't even bother to dignify that with an answer. I just went on to see what else was there in that place. After a small tour I came to the decision that our suite was very nice. The beds were soft, the mini-bar was full and I loved the big Jacuzzi in the bathroom.

We unpacked our bags and then gathered in the living room. Duncan was on the phone, obviously talking with Joe. He gave him the name of our hotel and the number of our room in case the Watcher found something more about Kemppain. That was very clever. Stockholm wasn't exactly a small village, and using the Watcher network was probably our best chance to find him.

Connor was browsing through the tourist guide he'd bought at the airport. "I think I'll go and look around. I haven't been here before and I hate to work on unknown terrain." He grabbed his coat and scurried to the door.

I turned to Duncan and saw that he'd finished the call and was now getting ready to go out too. So much for the honeymoon. "And where do you think you're going?"

"I thought I should go to check out the hotel. Downstairs, back door, things like that."

My lover went after his cousin. So the boys wanted to go out and play? It was fine by me. I knew our relationship wouldn't work if I trailed Duncan everywhere he went, even if that would be ideal on some occasions. I also knew that Connor was determined to be the one who got Kemppain's Quickening. He'd take care of his cousin.

I looked out of the window, watching snowflakes drift down. "I think I should go and buy myself a ski cap."

It wasn't all that hard to find warm clothing. I spent a few hours circling around the shops, both in the downtown and the oldest part of Stockholm, cleverly named 'Old Town', listening to people talk, getting familiar with the language again. It was the one thing that I could be sure of: As years went by, things changed.

After a very tasty lunch in a small restaurant, I returned to the hotel. The Scots hadn't came back yet, so I decided to take a little nap. The jetlag was taking its toll on me, even though I was used to traveling by now.

The young men hadn't returned yet when I woke up. After wandering around the suite for a few minutes, I sat on the couch with a notebook in my hands. It was about time to write down the details of everything that had happened after that day when I walked into Joe's, looking forward to meeting my Highlander again.

Funny, how writing can clear your thoughts. I wrote for over an hour and then read through all I'd written. It was quite astonishing how my life had changed in just a week or so. This time I didn't complain, though. I added a few things before putting the book away and then walked to the window to look out.

The city looked peaceful, everything muffled into a white blanket of snow.

It was oddly familiar to sit there, waiting for my Highlander. It wasn't the first time something like this was happening. Our little adventures usually involved Duncan rushing somewhere, trying to save the day, and me standing by, watching him handle the bad guys. It wasn't all that different now that he was being the back-up for his cousin.

Except that this time I wasn't worried sick about him. None of us was a match for both MacLeods. Not counting myself, of course.

The Highlanders were deadly opponents. More or less altruistic, but deadly anyway. We all were. No matter how you looked at it, we were all killers. Those were the rules of the Game. Some participated in it for the thrill. Others, like Duncan, did it because of their code of honor. Everyone struggling to stay alive until the time of the Gathering.

I didn't want any of it. I didn't want to be famous or feared. I'd left those illusions --delusions-- of grandeur behind a long time ago. Ruling the world didn't interest me either. And I most certainly didn't want to win the prize. Most Immortals viewed it as the ultimate reward for years of living in fear, fighting for their heads. All I saw was a burden. The ultimate responsibility. I didn't need that. I just wanted to go on with my life as always.

Smiling, I rephrased that last thought. I just wanted to go on with my life with Duncan.

The lunge towards my sword was instinctive when I felt the Presences. Maybe I was more edgy than I'd thought.

A few seconds later the door opened and my friends walked in. Both Highlanders were shivering, looking miserable. I put my sword down and returned to the couch.

"Did you find him?" I saw the answer at their faces and smiled a little. "Too bad. Did you at least have fun?"

Duncan glared at me. "Stop gloating and order us some dinner. I'm freezing."

" 'Honey, I'm home. Where's the dinner?' "

Connor's words made my lover blush. Our relationship was so new he didn't seem to know how to react to a joke like that. He hurried to save the situation, probably thinking I was somehow offended. "I didn't mean it like that, Methos. I just thought that since you didn't seem to be doing anything important, you might ... I mean, you..." He shook his head, realizing that he was just making it worse. "Dammit, Methos! Would you please order us some food before we starve to death?"

"Of course." After all, since he was paying for everything, I thought I should take all the advantages of the situation. I waited until the young men went to change into something dry and then called room service, ordering almost everything they had. Then I went to the bathroom to run a bath.

Knowing that the tub would fill on its own, I stepped into the bedroom. "The food should be here in twenty minutes or so. I think I'll take a bath before eating. Feel free to join me." Grabbing some toiletries and clean clothes, I slipped out of the bedroom before all the bare skin right in front of me made me forget all about the bath.

The tub was almost full when I returned to the bathroom. I stripped slowly and smiled as I heard the door open. Since there was no shocked exclamation, I knew it was the MacLeod I'd been waiting for.

"So, did you find any clues about your prey?" I sat down and sighed happily. It was wonderful to feel warm all over.

"No." My Highlander grimaced as he began to pull his pants off. "Connor wanted to see every single possible hiding place there is, and we spent the whole day at churches. I tried to tell him that Kemppain probably doesn't even know that we're looking for him, so there's no reason for him to hide, but Connor didn't listen."

"He's a stubborn Scot. Whatever made you think that he'd listen to reason in the first place?" I couldn't resist that.

My lover glared at me and then stepped into the Jacuzzi. "Very funny, Methos."

He made sure that all the water he splashed hit my face. When he thought I'd been properly chastened, he lowered himself right in front of me. I let him keep his little victory and we enjoyed the silence for some time.

"What will you do tomorrow?"

Duncan squirmed a little, turning to face away from me, and then leaned his head against my shoulder. "We'll go to the national museum. I think Kemppain's here to do some research."

I wasn't sure how he'd react to my question, but I had to ask him about it. After all, he was the only one who'd seen what the 'Sons of Odin' were really about. "Do you remember anything significant from the time you... spent with the cult?"

"Yes." He was quiet for a moment, obviously sorting it all out in his head. "I've stumbled into people who worship Odin before, and I must say that this cult had nothing to do with the Vikings. They had all the props, like pictures of crows, helmets with horns, you name it, but they didn't really know what to do with them. It was all a big game for them. Stupid savages who thought that whacking peoples' heads off was fun."

The slight tremor that ran through his body didn't escape me. I wrapped my arms tighter around him. Even though he was keeping his distance from the things that had happened to him, I knew it couldn't be easy for him to talk about it. Because of all the horrors he must have witnessed in the cult's house, but also because of the time he'd lost the man he'd called father.

"Their ideology was a mixture of Viking legend and hate towards everything. I was at their headquarters for just a couple of days, but I was able to see that if their leader didn't do something, the whole movement would fall into pieces. I guess Kemppain came here to get some new ideas for the cult."

That sounded logical. If anything with these idiots was logical, that is. "So you think he might be going through museums?"

"Museums, antique stores, old bookstores, anything that might help him with his work." Duncan reached for the soap. "Could you wash my back, please?"

It was clear that he didn't want to think about Kemppain anymore. I grabbed the bar of soap he was offering me. "Only if you wash mine later."

"Later?"

Well, it had been over twenty four hours. I moved the soap all over his chest and then moved my hands lower. "Yes. Later."

I decided to follow the Scots the next morning. There was nothing for me to do in the hotel anyway, and I found the idea of old bookstores very appealing indeed.

It was surprising how many places tried to make money with Viking mythology. We spent the whole day going from one place to another and all we found were poor imitations of ancient clothes and weaponry. I would have laughed at it, if it hadn't been so pathetic. It was kind of nice to go sightseeing with the Scots, though. The weather was warmer than the day before and it wasn't snowing.

Of course, if it had been, I'd had ended the entourage at the first bookstore.

None of the people we talked with had seen or heard about Kemppain. That didn't mean that he hadn't been there. Even if he didn't know that we were after him, it wasn't all that far fetched to believe that he was using an alias.

I didn't think that the day was a total disappointment, but the Scots seemed to disagree with me. So we didn't find Kemppain. That only meant that he had the chance to live one day longer. Sooner or later we'd find him and then Connor would take his head. I had no doubt about it.

We got back to the hotel at nine p.m. and after changing clothes, we rode the elevator down and had dinner in the hotel's restaurant. I was a bit alarmed when Connor paid for our meal without a word, but one look at his face explained it all.

It was really hard to suppress the groan. The thought of spending the next few days with a brooding Scot --a quick glance at Duncan made me rephrase that, two brooding Scots-- was really depressing.

Back upstairs, we went through everything we'd found out that day. I Listened to the Highlanders speculate about Kemppain's whereabouts and tried very hard not to show my amusement. All the planning was completely useless, since the man could be anywhere. Even so, I understood why my friends needed to do all the fussing about Kemppain. Better that than tearing the place apart.

I was just about to suggest to Duncan that we should go to bed, when the phone rang. Since I was the one closest to it, I reached out with my hand and answered.

"Pierson."

"Adam? It's Joe."

The Watcher knew quite well what time it was in Sweden, so he had to have something important to tell us. "What is it?"

"I have some good news for you."

"Kemppain?" My question made my friends get up.

Joe's voice sounded a bit muffled. "I think I've found him."

"Where is he?"

The Scots moved closer to me. I waved my hand to keep them quiet.

"There's no Dmitri Kemppain registered to any hotel in Stockholm, but when I checked all the local passenger lists, I stumbled into a very interesting name. There's a businessman going to Visby -- that's on an island...."

"Joe." I interrupted the man. "I know where it is. Just give me the name."

"Oh. Of course. Kemppainen. Teemu Kemppainen. You might want to check that out."

I closed my eyes. "Of course." It was good to choose an alias that reminded you of your real name, but this was really ridiculous. Actually it was so absurd, I was half convinced that the similarity between the names was purely coincidental.

"The ship he's taking will leave tomorrow morning at 6.00." There was a sound of papers being browsed through and then Joe gave me the name of the shipping company.

"Thanks, Joe."

"You're welcome. Happy hunting. Take care of the kids."

Connor was already pulling his coat on when I lowered the receiver. "Where is he?"

"Joe's found out someone whose name has a bearing resemblance to Kemppain's. The man has a reservation to a ship that..."

"A ship? So we'll go to the harbor. Which dock is the ship leaving from?"

I sighed. "Aren't you jumping to the conclusions here? We don't know if it's really him. And even if it is, we have time to..."

The hot-headed Scot ignored me and headed to the door. Duncan glanced at me and shrugged. I really hated that. Sighing once more, I grabbed my sword and coat, and then followed the Highlanders. Well, the sooner we found Kemppain, the sooner it would all be over and we could get back to Seacouver.

Connor spent the whole trip to the harbor reminding Duncan that it was his right to take Kemppain's head. There seemed to have been some confusion about beheading some other common enemies before. This time the Highlander was very frank about what he'd do to his cousin if he interfered. Duncan didn't argue with him, he only nodded, and kept saying, "Yes, Connor, whatever you want, kinsman." That seemed to annoy the older Scot enormously.

It was my turn to pay for the ride. We climbed out of the taxi and then went to see if there was anyone inside the small customs building all the passengers had to go through before boarding the ship. There was no one in there. Actually there was no one on the whole harbor.

Of course the fact that the ship wouldn't leave for hours might have had something to do with that.

I really hoped that if we really were at the right place, we'd catch Kemppain before he boarded the ship. The mere thought of crossing the sea during the winter made me sick.

It was cold on the harbor and I ground my hands into my pockets, trying to get some warmth into my freezing fingers. I should have bought those more expensive mittens. The ones I was wearing simply weren't doing their job.

The minutes crawled by, finally turning into an hour. My companions didn't seem to be interested in talking, even Connor had stopped the tirade about killing Kemppain. We just stood there, shivering with the cold. I missed the warm hotel room more and more every minute. Thinking about that just made the wait worse. If the Highlander was wrong about this, I would definitely do something very unpleasant to him.

Then it began to snow again.

Connor was pacing back and forth, looking annoyed. "Where the hell is he?"

"The ship is leaving in four and a half hours. Don't you think we're a bit early?" My question earned me an annoyed look.

"Kemppain will be here sooner than the others. Trust me."

Duncan stepped closer to me. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and I burrowed closer to him to enjoy the warmth. "Relax, Methos. Connor knows what he's doing."

I craned my neck and glared at him. His words weren't all that convincing. This was probably the most idiotic thing I'd done for years. Not counting the other idiotic things I'd done for my Highlander over the last three years, of course. Waiting for an Immortal in a harbor, in the middle of the night, when it was snowing, was definitely near the top of the list.

"He might know a lot about hunting down the bad guys, but I know a lot about..."

We all turned around when the Presence hit us.

A lone figure was heading towards us. I'd seen a few pictures of Kemppain and he looked exactly the same he'd looked two decades ago, his long hair still hanging limply over the collar of his well tailored suit. As soon as he felt us, he dropped the bag he'd been carrying and scurried back towards the relative safety of the Old Town.

The Scots didn't hesitate for a second, hurrying after the man.

I followed them, squinting my eyes as the wind threw snowflakes into my face. It was hard to keep up to the youngsters when half the time I couldn't see anything, and in a few minutes I had completely lost sight on the Scots. Soon I couldn't feel their Presences either. Wonderful.

If I couldn't see the younger men anymore, it was probable that they could be separated from each other, too. I added some speed, not wanting Duncan to meet Kemppain alone.

I ran across the street and headed into a narrow alley. At least it was easier to see there, for the walls gave me some shelter from the wind, but now there was another thing to worry about. The cobblestones in the Old Town were damn slippery and I was flat on my face every five minutes.

Apparently I should have bought better shoes, too.

The street lamps illuminated the alleys quite nicely, and the way the light reflected from the snow made it easier to see where I was going. That's about the only positive thing I can say about snow.

I entered a wider alleyway, once again slipping. My knuckles hit the icy ground hard and my sword flew a few feet away from me. I panted hard, trying to swallow the scream that was trying to claw its way up my throat. It was so cold, I couldn't even feel if my arm was broken, I just knew it hurt like hell.

Cradling my aching hand, I probed it gently with the other one. It wasn't broken. The pain seemed to diminish and I flexed my fingers. At least I could fight if I ran into Kemppain.

There had been a puddle on the ground before the temperature had dropped, and it was impossible for me to get up. Every time I was almost on my feet, I just slipped, and fell back down.

I scanned the area for my sword and then tensed when I felt a Presence. It was getting stronger very quickly and I crawled towards my Ivanhoe. It could be just one of the Scots, but with my luck it was Kemppain. 'Was beheaded while lying idly on the ground' was not the epitaph I wanted. Crawling on my hands and knees wasn't probably the most dignifying way to get to my sword, but it was definitely the most efficient at the moment. I felt a lot better when I was able to wrap my fingers around the hilt of the Ivanhoe.

Scrambling to my feet, my shoes still slipping, I heard a sound right behind me. I got up just in time to get a cold blade on my throat. I tried to breathe shallowly and had to fight against the urge to swallow. Even that little movement would have made the razor-sharp blade cut me deep. Any cuts between my head and shoulders would be too deep.

"Drop your sword!"

The blade nicked me a little and I had no choice but to obey the man.

"Turn around."

He didn't move his blade farther from my neck, so I had to move very slowly. I didn't let the terror show on my face, even though it was exactly the kind of situation I'd always feared. I had to stay calm in order to keep my head.

Kemppain squinted his eyes, obviously trying to figure out who I was and what to do to me. I knew that he wasn't even considering letting me go, but he had to know that the Highlanders were somewhere around. He most certainly didn't want to fight them when he was weak after absorbing my Quickening.

I guessed he'd decide just to kill me and then come back for my head after he had finished with the others.

After all, that's what I would have done if I were him.

"Where's the Highlander?"

No need to lie, after all it wasn't my battle. Besides, he didn't say which one. "He's around here somewhere."

"Don't use that smartass tone with me!" Kemppain snarled. "If you don't..." He looked up at the same moment I felt the other Presences.

I heard Duncan yell, "Adam!" when he came running into the alley with his cousin right behind him. I was glad he hadn't called me Methos. Kemppain wouldn't have been able to resist taking my head. Even now he jerked so that his sword cut my neck again. A warm trail of blood trickled down my neck.

It made me want to scream.

"Highlander!" Kemppain roared and stepped one step away from me. He reached for something from under his coat and then slipped on the icy cobblestones, falling on his ass. The sword cut deep this time and I slumped down, clutching my throat with both hands. I felt blood flowing between my fingers, gushing to the front of my shirt.

I rolled on the ground, fighting against the panic and trying to calm down. I saw Kemppain getting to his feet and recognized the thing he was holding in his left hand as a gun. Apparently his plan had been to shoot me and then handle the Scots.

At least his fall had cost him so much precious time, I didn't get a bullet in me.

I couldn't concentrate on him, though. My wound was still bleeding hard, and I grasped a handful of snow, pressing it against my throat. Ordinarily a little cut like this didn't worry me, but this was on my neck! I didn't want to lose my voice, not to mention my Quickening.

Since I was facing the other way now, I couldn't see who was shot. All I heard was a 'thump', when a body hit the ground after the idiot fired his gun. Then I felt only two other Immortals in the alley.

"Kemppain!" It was Connor's voice. The next thing I heard was steel clashing steel.

My throat hurt like hell and all I could do was to try to stay still, praying that the Highlander would be able to kill the bastard who had just shot my lover. I was glad that he was shot, though. This way the fight would truly be between Connor MacLeod and the man he hated.

I was so used to hearing the sound of the fight that the sudden silence startled me. I heard heavy panting and then an accented voice reminded the loser of how many there can be in the end, in case Kemppain had forgotten. I felt slightly better when I recognized the voice and turned my head a little to see Connor swing the blade. It was finally over!

The lightshow was spectacular, as usual. The alley was well lit and at least half of the streetlights exploded. There was a huge display window right behind me, and it shattered as a blue bolt of energy hit it, showering us with shards of glass. Connor shook violently as Kemppain's life energy went through him and then fell on his knees, screaming as the storm around him and inside of him raged on. He squirmed a few times when the last waves of the Quickening hit him. Then the only sound in the alley was his heavy breathing.

"Methos? Are you all right?" Connor's voice was tired.

Did he really expect me to answer that? Even though I felt a little better, I wasn't still ready to use my voice. I didn't want to risk it just to make him feel better.

The Highlander swayed on his knees and then tried to get up. Kemppain had been born a few centuries before him, and the Quickening had obviously overwhelmed the Scot. Apparently he thought that it was better to risk slipping than to crawl to see if I was all right and I heard him curse when he tried to get up.

He got to his feet and took a step towards me. He staggered forwards, and I was certain he'd fall. A few hesitant steps later he yelped and flailed with his arms, trying to hold his balance.

"I'm all right." Connor gasped, smiling at me. Then his feet slipped and he stumbled against a house, rattling the drainpipe as he fell. Unfortunately a few roof tiles of that building were loose and the shaking drainpipe made them come crashing down.

Of course one of them fell on Connor's head. I heard a strangled gasp, feeling the only other Presence on the alley dissipate.

I turned to lie on my back. I wasn't holding my throat anymore, the wound was almost completely healed. I was shaking badly, making small muffled sounds as tears fell down my cheeks.

I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in my life.

It's all over now. Kemppain's dead and me and the Scots are finally sitting on a plane, heading away from Sweden and the snow.

I would scream and shout with joy at the thought, but I don't want to wake Duncan up. Poor dear, I probably exhausted him last night. Even though Connor got the Quickening, I was high on adrenaline and spent most of the night showing my Highlander just how happy I was to see him alive.

We had a little conversation before we started to celebrate. Seeing me with a sword on my neck had shocked my Highlander almost as much as it had shocked me to feel it. I admitted that for a fleeting moment I felt the urge to run and hide, to just get the hell out of his complicated life, but leaving Duncan isn't an option anymore. I walked into this with my eyes open, knowing very well what kind of a trouble-magnet my Highlander is.

I think I can manage, though. After all, I've survived this long. I think I can handle one altruistic Scot.

And if this relationship gets me killed, at least I die happy. Exhausted, but happy.

Damn, I'm tired.

Well, at least Duncan has some time to rest now.

I doubt he'll be able to spend all that much time sleeping after we reach Scotland. Connor insisted that we go to see the farm, and apparently Alexandra MacLeod wants to see her cousin-in-law again. I don't mind going there. The University can wait a week longer, and it will be great to relax for a while.

At least I can relax. Connor did say something about working on the farm, but surely he didn't mean me! I'm not all that goood with physical labor, after all. I'm just a young man, a skinny, shy professor. I'd much rather spend my time enjoying watching Duncan in a kilt. Or trying to get him out of one. My Highlander even threatened to force me to wear one of those things. I refused to even think about it at first, but after he complimented my legs, I knew I'd lost that little fight.

So we'll probably spend the next week running around the Highlands, wearing skirts and trying to take a roll in the heather.

Actually, that doesn't sound all that bad.

Connor didn't like it very much when I forced him to promise me that he wouldn't mention my real name or my age to his little family. I know he trusts his wife and adopted son with his life, but I've never seen them. It's better to be careful. Too many people know about me already.

My insistence on that matter is probably just a way to keep some control over my own life. After all, Duncan's life is at best quite hectic, and I need to keep some strings in my hands. Oh, well. I guess I'll get used to this one day. I'll worry about that later. Now, I'm too tired to brood. Unlike some people, I have to actually concentrate on it.

I can't believe I'm starting to doze off. I never sleep on a plane. It's just too hard to relax in one of these things, knowing that we're all trusting our lives in the hands of a pilot I've never even seen. I really don't feel comfortable with the idea.

But then again, Duncan's shoulder looks very comfortable. It's almost drawing my head to rest on it. And so I do. Oh, yes. It's very comfortable. Even with the layers of cloth on it.

Maybe I should take a little nap. After all, we'll arrive in Edinburgh in less than three hours. I really like the scenery in the Highlands and don't want to spend the whole trip to Connor's house watching the insides of my eyelids. Forcing myself to stay awake is actually rather foolish. If the plane crashes, it crashes. There's nothing I can do to prevent that.

I don't even bother to cover my mouth with my hand when I yawn. There's no one awake here to see me act like an uncivilized dolt anyway. The lights are low, the hum of the engines is fading away and I think I'm slowly drifting towards sleep.

The End

October 1999