SquidgeWorld Archive

Solitude Standing
by Lore
demonmother@hotmail.com

He's so annoying. I'm sure he's laughing now. Somewhere warm, with plenty of fun stuff to do. Joking about how he managed to lose me once again. Damn that man,that immortal. She wrestled herself out of her wet coat. Huge drops spilling on the tiles.

Here I am sitting in the  morning at the diner on the corner. His favorite diner or so I'd started to think. He's not her of course. What did I expect?  I was a fool to think that a rookie watcher like me could actually get to know him well enough to predict his routine. To think I could presume anything about that man. He's a walking mystery.

I am waiting at the counter for the man to pour me coffee. The bastard fills me only halfway and before I  even argue, I see him looking out the window at somebody coming in. Just what I need.

"It is always nice to see you." Says the man behind the counter. The woman takes her hat and coat, mud forming on the floor. She's shaking her umbrella.  I try and look the other way as they're kissing  their hello's, pretending I wasn't looking at them or their reflection on the mirror.  Instead I pour the milk, not to much, just enough to form a cloud in the darkness of the coffee.

I open up the paper that I'd brought to keep me busy during the day long stake out. There's a story of an actor. A young man barely 30 and he'd died while he was drinking. I presume he'd gotten careless as he stepped under the car, probably thought he was immortal. He wasn't though, it wasn't anyone I'd ever heard of at the least.

He still hasn't gotten here. I'm going crazy of impatience, thinking of all the things he could be doing while I'm turning to the horoscope and looking for the funnies. Maybe I should just shoot him, tie him to a chair somewhere. At least that way I'd know where he was at all time. I chuckle. Nah that would be too boring. Even worse than watching him do his laundry or sitting behind his computer. It must be hard to entertain yourself when you're his age. Or maybe it gets easier. I can't imagine that he takes all those classes because he really needs them. Most of them he lived through. Must be why he loves this game of him, skipping me whenever he feels like it. It must be at least partly amusing. Annoying people seems to be his favorite past time.

I'm feeling someone watching me, I hope it's him and so I raise my head. There's a woman on the outside looking in. Does she see me? No, she doesn't really see me, cause she sees her own reflection and I'm trying not to notice that she's hitching up her skirt. And while she's straightening her stockings, her hair is getting wet. I look at her, the black holes under her eyes. She's been drinking, I can see it. Her wet hair clinging to her face, ruined by the wind.

Oh this rain it will continue through the morning. He'll show up, he always does and I am thinking of his voice. The chipper British sound of it, as he'll come in. Any time now he should be here.
I finish up my coffee and he still hasn't arrived. I start ticking on the table, getting impatient. I keep looking at the clock. He's over an hour late from his usual routine.

I pick  up my coat, getting ready to leave when he comes in. I look him in the eye. "Damn it Methos." I want to say, but I can't. The non-interference clause in my oath coming into effect. No matter the fact that he knows who I am, that he knows the Watchers, what they do, our protocols,... He's still a subject, untouchable. He just chuckles and hands me a rose. I shrug away my complaints and watch him take his usual place. Yet another day in the life of Amy Thomas, Methos watcher extraordinaire.

                                                              *****

I look at my beer. The man behind the counter glanced at me weirdly when I asked for one. I didn't care. I look over at Amy. My Watcher. My loyal stalker. She has no idea about me. Not really. How many of my files are actually open, even to my watchers. The girl probably thinks I'm late to annoy her. She  couldn't be more wrong. But I could hardly take her along for this mess. Joe would have my head if I did.

Cassandra's in town. I could hardly believe it when I saw her. She looked so different. So confident. A huge difference from the vengeance crazed woman I'd seen before. Yet not the naive little girl that I killed so long ago either. She seemed more ... mature. More like a woman. A free woman. I take my beer and sip it carefully. I'm not even sure that she saw me. Did she know I'm in town? That I'm around. It's arrogance to think that she's here for me, or is
it?

For a while after Bordeaux I thought she'd come after me, make me pay for my crimes against her. She never came. I still don't know if that's good or bad.

There was a man with her. A large man with short blond hair.  Another younger man followed them, his eyes darting to the first one. A crush stopped obviously by the first mans feelings for her. For the witch. She always did get all eyes on her. Even back in the camp. Even from me.

I lean back in my chair. I have my own life, yet I'm filled with curiosity. Is she really that strong, can she really ignore me just like that. Or did she not see me. I did slip away fast enough. A smile fills my face as I think of the look on the big guys face. The same look that was on mine, when I didn't  think she'd see it. Happy to have her. Yet his is open, as an equal, and she shares the feeling. Her care for him obvious by her touch on his hand. The way she held on to him as if his presence made her feel better, safer. She never had that with me, not even when I'd crushed her resistance. Not even when she gave in. Not even ...

Ah I'm deluding myself. She never loved me. She thought she did, but it was fear, fear for my obsession with her. And then I just gave her up. What was one more slave to me? Only when Kronos took her away from me did I realize what she meant to me. What was happening to me. It was that realization that made me let her go, more than anything else.

Kronos was furious of course, but how was I to know she'd put a knife in his gut? I'd watched her leave the camp and even then she ignored me. Not even an idea of what the true meaning of the Buzz was.

I remember my shock of seeing her beauty ravaged by hate, back at Macs place. I barely recognized her. But it was her despite it all. Despite everything. It nearly broke me, seeing her like that. It was so unlike the girl I remembered. The girl I did my best to destroy. The woman I saw yesterday.

I pick up my bag, taking out a book from school, trying to get my mind of of her. How could she turn out so well after everything I did. Is it a trap? Lulling me into a false sense of security for when she planned her revenge on me? I don't know.

*******

I follow him as he returns to campus. He's taken up a position as a TA in the anthropology department. It's not like he needs any more degrees. I guess he just likes university life. First in France, now here in Cascade. He moves slow, but elegantly. If not for the experience I have had with him, I'd think he was no more than a slouch. But I've seen him. He's nothing if not muscled. Hey I'm a watcher, his Watcher. It's my job to watch him. Uhm when he's training that is.

I run my hand through my hair, ruffling it up a tad bit. He never looks at me twice. As is to be expected. He isn't even supposed to know about me, instead he pretends not to see me. He pulls into class. I jump in as one of the last ones. A fellow student is complaining that he preferred the last TA, Sandburg or something like that. A lot of students seem to miss him, but no-one is willing to explain why he's gone in the first place.

I recline further in my chair, trying to stay concentrated. He doesn't seem all that interested either. He's talking, preaching is more like it. It's almost as if he's reading from the textbook instead of teaching. Is it because he knows that what he's teaching isn't true? Because he was there?

*******

I watch her as she comes out of the apartment. Just far enough so my Buzz won't reach her. She's dressed in green. Much like she was the last time. Only this time it's ... I can't find the right word for it. A happy green. A green of hope and gladness. Her hair was cut shorter, it made her  look younger, softer. The man next to her had to have something to do with that as well. Detective Jim Ellison, previously known as Captain James  'Jim' Ellison. It suited her to take a cop as her lover. Not just a cop. A sentinel. A protector of the tribe. She'd always had something for the strong righteous ones. Like MacLeod. I shake it of. As if I even know her enough to say what kind of guys she falls for.

A short chuckle escapes my lips. There she went, stepped right into the cops truck. The Sentinel seemed to be bringing her to work. One last glance back, as if she guessed there was something wrong, but nothing more. Let's hope she hasn't seen me. I wouldn't want to face that cop..  I can't  keep my eyes of her place. It took me over a week to find out where she was living now. And with who. Amy is probably looking for me all over campus. Unaware that I'm nowhere around that place. I can't let her get involved. Not Joe's daughter, this is my business.

It was surprisingly easy to open the door. To easy. I try and find something, a soft tingle passes through my mind. Not strong enough to belong to an immortal. A pre-immortal then. Carefully I open the door, taking precautions not to make a sound. The flat is huge, spacious. Large enough for her tastes. But it isn't her place. I see that as I come in. Some of her stuff is lying around, but not like it would if she'd been living here. I hear some snoring and an occasional burst of coughing come from the room in the back.

It just gives me more cause to be cautious. Must be the pre-immortal. I look at the pictures, the files. A gun is lying on the table. Together with a badge. Sandburg. Detective. Rather new it seemed. Must be the boy that was with them. I look at the picture. He sure looked better in real life, even from a distance. Must be the terrible passport-picture-syndrome. Even at my age I've yet to find a person that looked good on their passport. Then again, those things had only been in use for the past century or so.

There isn't much to find without leaving traces or worse yet, proof of my presence. Hell the Sentinel will probably find out anyway. I do the effort of flaring some handy mirth, anything to hide my scent from his nose. I hope it'll do the trick but don't really count on it.

"Jim is that you?" The sound is coming from the bedroom. Damn the kid is waking up. I keep silent, hoping he doesn't come out. Still I duck behind the door. He looks gorgeous. Even with his face red from a vicious cold, dressed in little more than a pair of short pants and a long shirt.  It's hard to believe that anyone could say no to this guy, whether they be man or woman. But it's obvious the big guy is only interested in Cassandra, not in his partner and roommate.

He comes into the room. I can't let him see me. Luckily I came prepared. I press a cloth with chloroform in front of his mouth. He startles. I grab him before he falls and gently lay him down on the bench. No need to let him get hurt more than is absolutely necessary or to let him get hurt at all for that matter. I make sure to check him up before leaving. That cough didn't sound good and I can't let my drugging  hurt, or make him any more sick than he already is. His breathing seems normal but still. You never know with mortals, or with pre-immortals for that matter.

My hand brushes through his short cut curls before I even realize what I'm doing. I got to stop myself. This is wrong. His skin it's so soft. I turn around and head for the door.

******

Damn it. He managed to loose me again. What is it with that man? Can't he be a good little immortal and stay in my line of sight? Yeah right, as if he's there to make my life easier. I grin at the thought of the ancient immortal doing my dishes or cleaning up my house. Or god help it, staying with me all the time. He'd drive me crazy in a week As if he'd need that long.

I take my car and head up to his apartment. The only place I can think of that he might be going to. I park and place myself for a long wait. Part of me wants to go up to him as soon as he arrives. But I know I won't. It'd completely break the rules.

There he is, he seems completely hyper as if waiting for something to happen. Something bad. I notice him looking back every once and awhile, using every opportunity to check for pursuers. Well other than me of course, he knows exactly where I am, no matter how good I hide myself. I  take a look, checking out the entire are to be sure if he's being followed. He's not.

I follow the lights as he heads for his room and wait for his silhouette to appear in front of the computer before I dare take my pocket edition of the latest Harry Potter. I wonder what he's doing when he takes of like that.

******

The cop keeps turning back. He knows there's someone. I pray to any deity that might actually exist that I won't be noticed in the crowd. There must be dozens of people around me, could he possibly spot me? The kid comes out of the door. He seems angry about that. Acting as the young mans blessed protector. Neither she nor the kid seem to appreciate the gesture. She says something and they both laugh at the cops look. She hugs him and they kiss. I look at them, my heart goes a beat faster when she looks up and stares straight at me. In my direction at least. She scans the crowd, quickly, efficiently. I hide out of sight, hoping beyond hope that she doesn't find out I'm here. Yet she I hear her say something and can hear footsteps heading my way. I get the  hell away. The crowd blocks him long enough for me to escape.

It takes me hours before I regain my peace of mind and just when I think I'm over it, I see him. The kid, in my favorite diner. Well he's not really a kid. In his mid twenties I believe. He orders a herbal tea and some kind of vegetarian dish. The man behind the counter laughs and wonders why he doesn't just eat donuts with coffee like all other cops. The boy, I can see him as anything else, takes it as the joke it was. Some of the other cops start rubbing it in as well.

I sip my beer, thinking ... When  I look up he's sitting at the table next to me. He asks me for the Tabasco. I push it towards him absentmindedly. His hand touches mine and it's as if a jolt of electricity runs through me. His hand is soft, warm. He stares at me and moves up, ending up in front of me. I gaze at him, his eyes, big blue, and have absolutely no idea what to say, what to do. He gawks back and his hand somehow ends up mere inches away from mine. I pull his plate in front of him. As much an invitation to join me as if I'd said the words out loud. "Blair Sandburg." he finally introduces himself. I want to tell him that I already know, but can only answer by stating my own name.

We both smile weakly at our mutual discomfort.

*****

I can't believe it. I finally find him again and he's sitting in his usual diner, flirting with someone. Not just someone. With a man! I knew that he's old, I'd just never realized what that means. What he's seen , what he must have done, everything there is to see and do in the world. I'd never even considered what that could mean for his sexual preferences. The two of them are almost glittering in the brightness of the others eyes.

'Blair Sandburg' Would that be spouse nr 69 or 70? Do male lovers even count in that category? I hope it works out for him. He's been way to busy in the time I've watched him. He needs someone he can annoy. Dad'll be happy to hear it.

*******

I didn't mean to, I sure as hell didn't plan it. So how in hell did I end up here? Not that I regret it. He seems so innocent. His shortened curls are still long enough to form an aura around his angelic face. It's a deceptive innocence if last night was any indication. He's strangely still, a huge contrast with his vibrant nature when he's awake.

My fingers play with his thick locks as I support myself on my elbow. I still don't know how we ended up here though. He's not a good choice for a partner. Yes, he's beautiful and limber and oh so willing, but still  he's not a good choice. His partner, his cop-partner is with her, Cassandra. If I keep dating Blair, I'd have to face her. And I doubt I'd want that to happen anytime soon. At least I was smart enough, or conscious enough, choose your favorite option, not to take him up on his offer to head for his place. I wouldn't want to risk, running into her. She's living with them now.
Meeting her there would be a serious mistake. One I dread occurring if I keep seeing Blair. Is there any way at all that I can make this work?

I close my eyes, following the curve of his neck with the tips of my fingers. He's so perfect, so untouched, untainted. I snuggle my body against his. Cupping together. He sighs and leans up against me. His head resting on my shoulder. He's so wrong, yet so right. And I can't even bare the thought of losing him.

For an instant I consider killing him now, in his prime,  able to maintain his beauty for the rest of his life. But I relent.  It isn't my choice to make, not his either for that matter. I hold on to him, my breath on his ear; He shivers and I touch him, holding him close as if I dread to lose him.

******

I smile as I watch them. The boyish grin on Methos' face as he pulls the other mans hat over his eyes. Sandburg straightens it up while running after the old man. The immortal is an inch away from being pushed in a fountain. He's save at the last moment when the mortal(?) pulls him in a kiss.

Methos pretends to resist for a second before falling in the others embrace. Neither of them seem to care for the people staring at them, or away from them, whatever is the case. They loose their grips on eachother and Sandburg gives the old man a playful slap on his butt.

The 5000 year old man seems to enjoy every second of it. He seems so much more alive than before he met Sandburg. The clear open way he acted with the other man, it seems to be doing him good. I wonder if he was like this with Alexa? Let's pray that this one won't die on him anytime soon.

I lean back against a wall as they sit down at a small café, making myself comfortable. I check my phone. One message, my dad.

I check to make sure Methos isn't using the opportunity to skip and listen to my fathers words. He seems really agitated. "Amy, call me back as soon as you can. Warn Methos, tell him Cassandra's in town." Warn Methos? I wonder. How can he even ask me to do something that
much in violation of my oath? It's against every rule the Watchers abide by. Besides, who was this Cassandra woman anyway? I linger on the thought. Why would my father want me to interfere?  He never has before. What was so special about her? She can't be that much of a Headhunter. I
make a habit of checking all of them out on a regular basis and she isn't one of them.

*******

Blair is spread out in my arms. The television is on and we're watching the wheel of fortune. It's been three weeks now with few if any hitches. I bury my nose in his short curls, an impossible thing I know, keep your puns at bay. His body touches mine, his head rests up on my shoulder. His body heat is barely enough to warm me up the slightest bit and I pull the blanket from the couch and pull it over the both of us. Anything to keep us warm.

Neither of us talks, we just sit there and I'm happy. I can't say why, I just am. When the phone rings, I'm just about ready to kill whomever is on the other end. "Adam Pierson." I answer. It's Amy, as ever the dutiful daughter, ready to warn me in her dads name. Nice of him to think of my safety, but I don't plan on leaving. Not this time, not just yet.

I slouch back down and start channel hopping. Blair notices something is wrong and tries to distract me. I'm ashamed to say this but I ignore him. It's only when I hit Xena that I can smile for a second. Too bad women in that time period weren't half as open as the ones on that show. Not if you didn't pay for them at least. What I wouldn't have given for even one that dared stand up to me like that. If I remember correctly I did pay a big some for one. She ended up with most of my money and offered to build Thebes a new wall. I grin softly and look at my partner apologizing.

He just gives me that look of 'Oh please'. I finally hit the X-files. I can't help but wonder how much Nick Lea could be like Cory if I'd ever met him in real life. If there was one thing about Raines, that I like at least, it was that he was hot, real hot. To bad he has no sense of discretion.

******

I finally manage to open the file, after about four calls and five security checks later. Cassandra.
God I wish I could look like that at age 3.000, hell I wished I'd look like that now. A healer, a priestess, a witch, ... friends with people like Sean Burns and Rebecca. Why would dad want to warn Methos of someone like her? She doesn't sound like any kind of threat to anyone. Even to other immortals. Nothing I find indicates her as trouble, nothing till I find the records for the past decade.

Seems she's friends with the MacLeod, dads immortal. She even helped him defeat another immortal. Some guy called Roland Kantos. That Voice of hers sounds interesting, but I still don't see a reason why dad could possibly want me to warn Methos of her. I pray I did the right thing.  Breaking my oath, calling Methos. What if the old man goes hunting for her? It would be my fault if he kills her.

Then I find it, almost by accident. Yet another security code. One higher than mine. I can't be stopped now, or can I? But what's the code?

I finally press Methos' code, the one most people don't even know. What could happen? Worst thing that happens is I get rebuked. To my immense surprise the thing actually responds. I can't believe what I read. Four men, four immortals, calling themselves the Four Horsemen, killing across three continents. Methos, my ... uhm, Methos, one of them. How could he? No wonder she wants to kill him. Memories of Morgan Walker hit me as if it happened only a moment ago. That look in his eyes, that promise ... If Methos hadn't stopped him, hadn't saved my life...

To think one man could be so different. I check up her current location, nearly choking when I read it. Cascade Washington. Living with a detective James 'Jim' Ellison and his partner ... Blair Sandburg.

Joe is there when I get home. Waiting by my door. He seems dead worried about something. What's he doing here anyway? Aren't he and MacLeod supposed to be in France hiding out on Macs barge or something.

He starts rambling about Cassandra, about Blair. I let him go on. He's only doing it for my own good. Yet it annoys me. As if I wasn't aware of the problems involved and no  Blair is not working for her. With any luck she doesn't even know I'm in town.

I leave him in my apartment and offer him the couch, getting ready for my date with Blair. I look at myself in the mirror to check out the tux. It looks decent enough, though the collar feels uncomfortable as hell.

I check for the tickets, two background passes for an exclusive exhibition at downtown. To think of all the trouble I had to go through just to get me and Blair on the guest list. It's a pre-showing. Blairs going to love it, especially once he sees those Mayan vases.

The bell rings and I ask Joe to open while I tie my shoes. They seem to be talking a bit. Joe has no idea how much he sounds like a concerned father checking out his daughters date. The fact that I'm over a 100 times his age doesn't even seem to matter.

I enter the room and the first thing I do is fumble up Blair's newly ironed shirt. He looks stunning. The black nicely sets of the innocence of his eyes, combined with his light hair he looks like an angel. I smile at him, I even keep the door open for him as we leave. "Don't wait up." I yell to Joe as Blair and I head downstairs.

******

They're sleeping. Blair and Methos. Probably nicely snuggled up in that huge bed of his. Methos' long arms holding Blair's chest. Their legs intertwined. That beautiful nose touching that smooth skin, or those golden curls. What? You don't think I'd ... No! Off course I'm not looking in on them as they're in bed doing ... I'm not that sick. I'm a watcher, not a voyeur. And yes there is a difference.

I take my laptop and start a game of Doom. Anything to keep my mind of things till he wakes up. I don't dare risk getting here any bit later. Sure he's a long sleeper and yes there are several other watchers keeping an eye on him as well. But I don't trust him for a hair. I would no longer even consider acting on my thoughts about his intentions. He's to slippery for that. In other words, all he gives me are long days and hard work. With nothing but sarcastic remarks in return. The  tremendous honor of being a Methos watcher. The most wanted job in the Watchers, they can have it if they want.

It's about time now. Most likely Blair will get up first. He's got a job to go to. He's almost late matter of fact. But still there is no movement in the room. Half an hour later, still nothing. Should I call them and hang up, just to wake them up on time. It's not by the book but what the hell.

I can see a car drive up in front of the building. a large man comes out. Long controlled strides, disciplined in his every move. Yet fluid as a panther. He opens the door for someone. My eyes fall wide open as I see her. Cassandra. What are they doing here? Probably picking up Blair for work.
God, what do I do? I try and reach Methos, but his phone's off the hook.

"Nice to know we finally get to see that new girl Blair's been dating. It's about time." The man chuckled as he says those words. That must be Ellison. Cassandra's lover. They chat a bit more as they head up to the door. She stops, from one moment to the other, turns her head slightly as if hearing something. "Something's wrong." she says. He seems to trust her instinct and takes out his gun, keeping it at ready under his coat.

My heart is drumming as he opens the door, using a key. Where'd he get that one. Blair must have given it to him. Does Methos know that?

*******

I'm cuddling up to Blair, sweet lovely Blair. My head feels fuzzy because of the alcohol. I sense a  Buzz, it has to be some kind of aftereffect from that poison Blair made me drink. No matter how long I live I will never again touch that African stuff again. Whatever he promises me. The bed feels so warm and comfortable. Getting out of it means I have to face another day, another risk. I'd rather stay here with him. I let him rest in my arms and try to fall asleep again. Yet that sensation keeps continuing. As if there's an immortal coming closer. Uhm that's stupid right. I owe the entire building. What immortal could possibly try and sneak up on me here. I nestle up against Blair and let him rest on my arms as I try to find sleep again. I'm in Cascade, not Seacouver.

My question is answered as the door jumps open and I face up to her. Cassandra and the cop. 'Her pet Sentinel', I think unfriendly. Somehow Blair wakes up, looks at Jim and brushes his face past mine. His lips touching mine. I lose some of the haze at his touch and realize the situation I'm in. Naked, in a bed, with my lover and a woman who wants my death more than anything in the world at my side.

I try to get out and get caught up in the bed sheets. The anger in her eyes, it gets pushed away almost as soon as it shows up. "What are you doing here?" she demands of me. I have no answers, for I know she doesn't just mean my presence in this room. Where's her sword? She hasn't got it out yet, but it must be on her somewhere.

"We're sleeping." Blair says in complete innocence, thinking she was talking to him. His voice sounds muffled by the bed sheets in which he's hiding his head. "That's a guy. " the big man stutters. "My guy." Blair mutters. "My Adam guy." I hear his love for me in those words.

I look up at Ellison. Does he know? About me that is, what I did to her. He seems to calm for that. Now he's just flabbergasted at finding out his partner sleeping with a man. Probably the fact that it's another man than  himself is playing as well, even though he'd never admit it to himself. She glares at me and turns away, leaving the room just like that. She's probably looking for a better moment to tell the truth and ruin my life.

******

No lightening strikes, no breaking glass, no explosions. No anything that could indicate either a fight or a Quickening. Thank God they haven't killed eachother. Yet. She's the first to come out, looking for all the world like a lost child that doesn't know where to turn through shock. It couldn't have been easy on her. Seeing Methos like that. So unexpected. She rests her back against the car. Allowing it to support her as she's getting a grip on herself. It makes me want to go out and comfort her, but before I can even consider the option, the cop comes out. She cleans her face with the sleeve of her shirt before he can see them.  He noticed anyway and wants to know what's wrong, what's going on that hurt her. She doesn't tell.

I notice her Watcher in a car on the other side of the street. The woman sees me looking at her and we nod to eachother. We'll see if we have to meet up later.

Ellison takes her in his arms, keeping her tight as he presses his lips on hers. I sit back in my little corner, thinking of things, of Methos, Cassandra and the history between them. They're not all that different. Not really. Both of them children of the millennia.

They're survivors first and foremost. It's sad really, to see these two and know what could be, compared to what is. Anyway, it's not really my business. Speculation is all good and well, but what matters, especially where the Watchers are concerned, is cold hard facts.

Fact: Blair Sandburg comes out of the building, his clothes all wrinkled. They seem to have been randomly picked up from the floor. He yawns slightly as he gets to the car. He frets through his eyes, as if there's something stuck inside of them.

Fact: Sandburg leaves with Ellison and Cassandra, they say something about dropping her off at work. (she owns an occult bookstore)

Fact: Methos doesn't come out till half an hour later. (that's still early for him though.)

Fact: He looks ... sad, as if terrified that his world is going to crumble down on top of him, like a tower of cards, build on an unsteady foundation.

All right already, that last part was speculation again, but he does look vulnerable, his shoulders are hanging down, his feet seem to be dragging across the stone and his entire figure seems to be screaming desolation.

As far as I know Cassandra hasn't said a word, but how long will it take before the truth comes out?

********

She's going to tell. Sure she hasn't done so yet, but she will, I'm sure of it. I stare at Blair as he's cutting onions for some Pakistani dish he heard of and absolutely wants the two of us to try. He looks so happy, as if a weight he wasn't even aware of has fallen from his shoulders. He no longer  feels like he has to keep it a secret. Us, me and him. It's all out now. The great Jim Ellison knows and has given his seal of approval. Well, not necessarily of Blair's choice in a partner, but he didn't mind seeing the kid with a man. Even with me.

It's stupid actually, the way Blair hangs on the older mortals approval, but it matters to him. They had a long talk and Jim hasn't thrown him out of the apartment yet. A good thing really. If he'd hurt Blair I would have had to kill him. Now I for one don't relish the idea of either going up against a Sentinel or explaining to Blair why I killed his best friend, so all in all it was rather convenient that him and Blair managed to work things out.

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

It sounds like such an innocent question when he puts it like that. I shrug and tell him I got nothing. Big mistake! Before I know it, I'm trapped in a double date with him, his partner and Cassandra. How did they get her to agree to this?

*****

I watch them play their game of who can glare the hardest all evening. Methos and Blair on one side of the table, Cassandra and Ellison on the other. The tension between the two immortals is intense. Their words sound friendly and nice, but behind the words is a coldness more dangerous than the worst insult and every word they say becomes a way to attack the other. Both Blair and Ellison seem to be crumbling under it. Thank god looks can't kill, or cut of heads, or else we'd be having a double Quickening by now.

Methos is barely touching his food. He seems tight bound, almost forcing himself to bring a bite to his lips. Blair starts chattering about a basketball team that him and Ellison are friends with. It seems he's trying to put a crack in the tension. It isn't working.

Then both Methos and Cassandra's hands go to the same loaf of bread in between them. They both grab it at the exact same moment in time. The thing drops in the dark brown sauce. Drops of the stuff fall at the sides. They both get up out of their seats.

"Why don't you just tell them already." Methos finally breaks the silence. Cassandra doesn't answer, her lips are sealed. "Or are you planning to torture me with it some more. Letting me know you could talk any given time. Holding your silence over me like a threat." His voice seems filled with desperation, fear and a dash of anger, cracked by the stress. "Cathy?" Ellison gets up next to her, inches away from touching her. Blair is still sitting, looking up at his lover. "Why don't you just tell them Cassandra? About how I killed you and everyone you loved. That your people weren't the only ones I butchered. How I destroyed so many things, including everything you ever held dear. I'm sure you're just dying to tell them. How I raped you, abused you, ... What I did to thousands , hundreds of thousands before and after you. Why don't you Cassandra?"

*******

I choke at my own words. Why did I do that? I look at my hands, wondering about that, about everything, when Ellisons fist hits me hard. I'm spinning slightly, trying to catch a grip, on anything. He seems ready to come after me again. Both Cassandra and Blair are trying to stop him, to calm him down. He's fuming in a rage. "Jim no! This isn't your business." she's not even using the Voice to try and control him, just her love for him. I'm not really surprised. I've been reading her chronicles on and off since Bordeaux. She's not the type to send others after me, like she went after Kronos herself, no matter how little a chance she stood in that bout.

Ellison turns to her, takes her hands in his own. He seems to be relaxing slightly. I search for support with my left hand as I hold my chin with the right. The impact of his fist is still making my head ring.

"Just go Methos. If you have any decency left inside of you. Leave." I face her, knowing she's right. Nothing good can come out of this. I'm halfway out of the room before I notice Blair is following me. "Adam?" I ignore him and walk on. "Adam please, I need to know." My heart beats in my throat. "Why don't you just ask her?" I blurt out. "I will." he responds calmly. "But right now I'm asking you." His eyes search mine. "Was it true what you said?"

"Yes." I want to break out in tears, but I can't not now. I keep my face unfazed, he can't have any idea how hard this is for me. "Every bit of it and more." He grasps for air. "You killed people, innocent people."

"Yes."

"Why?" He seems to be hoping for an answer to reassure him, but I can't lie to him, not about this, not any more.

"Pleasure, power. You name it and I could give it as a reason. At first it was the thrill, riding out in the sun, knowing you were the baddest bad ass around. Then I just got used to it. It was my life for so long. But in the end, I was just bored and I killed, I raped, I did ... all those things for no  other reason than because I could and there was no one to stop me."

Blair stares at me in absolute horror.

"I'm sorry." I try, knowing I'm apologizing to the wrong person, for the wrong reasons.

His eyes open wide, he's shaking.

"Oh God."

"It was 3000 years ago Blair. Three fucking millennia."

"You killed innocent people."

"I changed."

"You're a massmurderer" he ignores my lame attempts at trying to justify myself.

"Not anymore." My voice is breaking up, he doesn't even notice. He hasn't even caught up with the true meaning of my words. "Please Blair."

"I can't." he doesn't end his sentence and turns back inside, back to Ellison and Cassandra. "I'm sorry Adam, Methos, whoever you are." His eyes are fighting a  losing struggle to keep from crying. "I can't deal with this." Then he leaves me and my heart shatters.

******

I see Cassandra hugging Ellison, joining Blair as they watch Methos departure. Blair is obviously broken by the discovery.

Cassandra just stands there as her lover comforts his best friend.

I turn to follow my immortal.

"Methos, wait up."

He doesn't listen.

I run after him, grab his hand.

We're out of the door.

"I'm sorry." I say.

He just breaks apart and I let him release his sorrow, his loss on my shoulder.

I'm his Watcher, his friend.

The hell with that oath.

end