Highlander 1. Chapter 1

The Heiress

Methos lazily awoke to the feeling of a cool breeze coming into the bedroom. By now the sun was up, and MacLeod was still gone he noted. Methos looked over at the clock, 9 in the morning, and he felt like he'd woken up fresh from a hundred year sleep. He heard the lift and felt the presence of an Immortal come up. MacLeod no doubt, Methos figured, but he was wrong.

"Mac?"

Methos looked and saw Richie push the lift's door up and enter the loft.

"He's not here, Richie, what do you want?" Methos asked.

"Hey Methos, I didn't know you'd gotten back to town," Richie said.

"Funny, that seems to be the story of the week, now what do you want?"

"Ah forget it, I'll come back later."

Methos saw Richie turn back to the elevator and realized he'd come off sounding bitter when he wasn't, and he said, "Oh come back here. You didn't deserve that, you're a good kid."

"Hey," Richie warned, he didn't like anybody calling him that.

"Sorry."

Now Methos was trying to figure out why he was being nice to Richie. He tried to think, all he could come up with was a vague memory from his dream that somehow had involved Richie, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was.

"You look pretty bad, Methos," Richie noted, "Are you allright?"

"I'm feeling much better now, but I had a rough night."

"Where's Mac?"

Methos shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine, I last saw him when he went out on his run."

"Well, I think I'll wait for him, I gotta talk to him about something."

"What is it?" Methos asked as he got himself out of the bed and started pulling the covers into place.

Richie started to answer but decided against it, "So when'd you get back to town?"

"About a month ago."

"Where've you been all this time?"

"In mourning…I trust MacLeod told you all about what happened."

"Part of it, not much."

Methos straightened out the pillows and put them back in place, "What did he tell you about Kronos?"

"I don't know, he didn't talk much about the whole thing at all."

"And I suppose you want all the dreary details from me."

"You don't have to."

"No, I don't…and I'm sick of it. I've had to keep that part of my life secret from everybody I've known since I left them 2,000 years ago."

"_Do_ you want to talk about it?" Richie asked.

"No," Methos responded, then said, "Yes…I don't know, I'd like to try to explain it for what it was before we became what history remembers us as. I don't know that it's a matter of want anymore, I _need_ to talk to somebody about it or I think I'll go crazy…and you," he turned to Richie, "You're not like MacLeod."

"I try not to be too much."

"He's trying but he can't understand it no matter what he might say," Methos said, "You, you're still young enough that you haven't become judgmental and holier than thou…I admire that."

"I knew somebody else who did too," Richie said.

"Who?"

"Somebody I knew before I moved in with Mac and Tessa, he was a lot like you now that I think of it."

Methos looked at Richie. Those words seem to strike a bell somewhere in him but he couldn't make the connection.

"So do you?" Methos asked.

"Do I what?"

"Want to hear about Kronos?"

"If you want to…"

"You better start growing a backbone Richie or you won't last long," Methos said, "Have you eaten already?"

"Yeah."

"Well I'm going to the kitchen, I feel like I haven't eaten in a month."

"You look the part too."

"I said grow a backbone, not sarcasm."

Richie followed Methos to the kitchen where Methos decided to finally tell the sordid story of his past, at least so much as he was willing to tell.

"I'm so old I can't remember how long I've walked this earth, I certainly can't tell where to begin this, other than where Kronos first came about…I don't trust you know much about ancient history, Richie…truth be told they can't tell it right anymore anyway. Well, when Kronos found me, I was a slave who was treated worse than a dog, tied up in the middle of the ground, frozen by winter, burnt by summer and starved all through the years."

"If you were tied up all that time, what'd he keep you for?" Richie asked.

Methos turned to stare Richie in the eyes, "I don't really have to answer that one, do I?"

A realization came over Richie, "I guess not, so what happened?"

"Kronos and Silas came one day, I thought they were just a couple more customers, but instead, they gave me my freedom, in so I went with them and lived again, I became stronger through time, and I lived to fight another day. I've tried to explain it to MacLeod, I've tried to explain it to Joe…I can't explain it to them though, they can't understand."

"Understand what?" Richie asked.

Methos looked at Richie and had to laugh, youth was always amusing, especially with their naïveness and curiosity. "Understand that we were not always the demons and monsters that Cassandra made us out to be. In the beginning things were different. After being a slave for as long as I had been, I was a mess, and Kronos was the only one who could put up with me long enough to bring me out of it. That part of him I never forgot…the self proclaimed end of time that I saw at the submarine base could never have put up with me as long as he did and as patiently as he did without killing me to end both our misery."

He groaned and seated himself at the table across from Richie, "I don't know what changed him, Richie. I don't even know what changed myself…but two thousand years come and go and I changed again, I changed, I hope, for the better. I couldn't stand what we were anymore, so I left…Kronos came after me, he would've killed me, but I got away. I hoped I'd never see him again because I doubted he could change or he would even want to. He didn't, and when he showed up a few months ago, the nightmare continued, only this time when I saw him, he was even worse than before and I never thought that possible. I don't know what was the final turning point in him. I've spent a better part of my life trying to figure it out. I've never been able to determine if it was because of something I did or something I didn't do or if it was because I left him…and this morning I decided it doesn't matter anymore because it's over. I finally decided that I've wanted my own life for two thousand years, and now that I've buried my brothers, I can really get around to it, without having to worry about Kronos finding me again."

Richie listened to every word Methos said and didn't so much as breathe loudly until Methos had finished talking. "Oh man, Methos, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, it's over…finally it's over. Now it's time to move on in life and that's just what I intend to do. I'm just glad I'm still welcome here after what's gone on."

"Well we're sure glad to see you again," Richie said, "We were worried about you for the longest time."

"So I've heard, and I have to say, after everything I've been through, it's good to be back."

* * *

It was near noon and Methos was starting to wonder if he ought to worry about MacLeod being gone so long. He thought back to early this morning, it was sometime after 5 o' clock when he had left, and this was nearly seven hours later…of course he had to remind himself he'd been gone three months, during which time it was possible for anything to happen in MacLeod's life that was different from before. 

He'd gotten up himself about three hours ago, after which he ate, and after his stomach finished cramping, he took an hour long bath and let all the dirt and grime soak off of his skin and it gave him a heightened feeling of being alive again. Really alive, not like the zombie he had been for the last few months.

Now while Methos tried to decide what to do while he waited for MacLeod to return, he looked over at Richie, who sometime during the day had also gotten tired of waiting for MacLeod to return, and had fallen asleep on the couch. Methos had to laugh, Richie was curled into a ball on the couch and looked almost cute. That made him start to wonder what Richie looked like as a child, and then he wondered where the hell that thought came from. Oddly enough though, he thought he could picture what Richie looked like when he was little, and the image that came into his mind was a funny one, a little boy with big blue eyes and a mop of frizzy red curls. Now he was _really_ wondering where the hell that idea was coming from.

Suddenly he became aware of the two blue eyes looking up at him, "What is it?" Richie asked.

Methos smiled and took a step back, "Nothing."

Richie looked over at the clock, "Mac's been gone a long time hasn't he?"

"Yes he has."

"You think he's okay?"

"Yes."

A moment later they heard the lift start and they felt another Immortal coming. A minute later, Duncan MacLeod emerged into the loft, looking surprised to see the two of them there. "Methos, Richie…"

"And just where have you been?" Methos asked.

"I stopped to talk to Joe and tell him what happened," Duncan explained.

"What _did_ happen?" Methos asked.

"You came back," Duncan answered, "And you're allright now."

"As well as I can be anyway."

"Mac," Richie said as he got up from the couch, "I gotta talk to you about something."

"What is it?"

"It's…kind of private, Methos, do you mind?"

With a coy look, Methos moved to get his coat, "Not at all, I should be going anyway."

"What about your sword?" Richie asked.

"That's part of why I must be going, I left it at my apartment if my memory serves."

"What?"

"Don't sound so surprised, the way I was feeling last night I'm surprised I managed to get out of the apartment at all," Methos said.

"But Methos…" Richie started.

"Don't worry about me, I'll leave you two to whatever it is you need to discuss."

"Take care of yourself," Duncan said.

"I always do," Methos replied as he headed out the door and down the stairs.

"I'm worried about him, Mac," Richie said.

"So am I," Duncan admitted, "Joe told me that Cassandra's Watcher has spotted her back in town."

"Yeah, that's what I need to talk to you about," Richie told him, "Joe told me about that too, and earlier today I went over to Methos' apartment to see if he was there to warn him, but somebody was already there. It was an Immortal, a woman…I don't know if she'd be Cassandra but I didn't know…Methos wasn't there and his apartment was locked so I came here."

"You saw this woman?"

"Yes."

"What'd she look like?" Duncan asked.

"I…I didn't get too good a look at her, she was…I don't know I guess regular height, she had long dark hair…"

Now Duncan was really worried. "Do you think she'd still be there?"

"I don't think so, when she found out he wasn't there, she left…I followed her for a bit but I lost her when she went into a crowd."

"Do you think she was looking for a challenge?"

"I don't know…she's obviously not a headhunter, I mean she saw me and didn't try anything."

"She didn't say anything to you?"

"No, nothing," Richie replied, "I was going to tell Methos but I thought with him here with us, and with him just getting back to normal, we wouldn't have to tell him right away. I didn't think he'd leave like that, Mac, and when he did I just froze, I couldn't think."

"He can't have gotten too far already," Duncan said.

"You want me to follow Methos?" Richie asked.

"That might be a good idea," Duncan said, "He's not in the best position right now if somebody _is_ after him."

"I'm on it," Richie grabbed his jacket and ran to the lift, "Later, Mac."

"Watch yourself," Duncan told him.

"Always."

After Richie left, Duncan felt a pins and needles sensation in the back of his neck and head. For the time being there wasn't anything he could do, and the suspense would kill him before he found out anything.

* * *

Half an hour later, he jumped when the phone rang. He answered, "Hello?" 

"Really, MacLeod," Methos said in a tone most not amused, "I appreciate your concern for me but if there's one thing I don't need, it's the kid following me home like a lost puppy."

"Are you okay?"

"I'd be better if a certain Scottish baby would take a hint when to leave me alone."

"Okay, I'm sorry, but..."

"Well you should be, I'm over 5000 years old, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I'll talk to you later, goodbye."

He was alive, he was still a royal pain in the ass, but he was allright, thank God, he was allright. By now Richie had to have told him what was going on, so now he knew. Duncan hung up the phone and tried to breathe.

* * *

A couple hours later, Duncan headed downstairs and fate seemed to have it in for him today because he felt another Immortal nearby. He turned and saw somebody enter, it was a woman. At first glance he thought it was Cassandra, but as she stepped further into the building he saw she was not Cassandra at all, but a woman he had never seen before. She stood at an irregular height, not tall but not short either; her hair was long and dark but tended more towards the reddish-brown shade of color. She was dressed irregularly as well, in a light gray jacket, a white T-shirt and a long and wide pink skirt and white sneakers. 

"Are you Adam Pierson?" she asked.

So this was the woman Richie had seen earlier, and what was to happen now?

"No I'm not," he replied, "May I help you?"

"I'm looking for Adam Pierson," she said, "Do you know where I might find him?"

"What do you want with him?" Duncan asked.

"He's the attorney handling my late husband's estate," she reached into a small brown bag she had with her and took out some papers, "I have the legal papers right here, and Adam Pierson's name is on them as the attorney appointed."

Duncan took the papers and looked them over, they looked authentic and they did have Adam's name on them, but something was the matter. An attorney was supposed to have these papers originally, not the heir, so where did they come from that she got them and didn't know who the lawyer was? What did it all mean?

"Do you know him, Mister…"

"Duncan MacLeod," he answered, "Yes I do know him. How did you get these papers?"

"They were mailed to me by an anonymous source, so I looked up where an Adam Pierson was living in this town. I went to his apartment earlier but his landlord told me he was out. Then he told me of a blues bar that he often frequented, so I went there and couldn't find him again. The bartender told me that he sometimes comes here, do you know where I could find him?"

Duncan didn't know what to say, he looked over the papers again and was at a loss. "I'll see if I can get him, you might take a seat," he said.

He went over to the phone and dialed Methos' number, it rang once, twice, three times…

"Pierson."

With a sigh of relief, MacLeod answered low enough so the woman wouldn't hear, "There's a woman here for you."

"What?"

"She just walked in asking for Adam Pierson…she's one of us."

"Not Cassandra, I trust."

"I've never seen her before," Duncan replied, "But she says you're the attorney handling the estate of her late husband, she has legal papers including the will saying they were mailed to her, your name's on them as the attorney."

There was a momentary silence, "I haven't been an attorney for…never mind, do you think you can keep her there for a while?"

"She's been going all over town today looking for you," Duncan answered, "I don't think she's going anywhere soon."

"Allright, keep her occupied and I'll come over when I can and find out what this is all about."

"Okay, goodbye."

Duncan hung up and went back to his guest, "Adam says he'll be over in a little while. Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime, Miss?"

"My name is Jewell Zamora."

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise I'm sure, has this Adam Pierson been a friend of yours for long?"

"A few years."

"I never knew him."

"Oh, were you and your husband separated?" Duncan asked.

"You could say that."

"How long ago did he…pass?"

"About…three months ago I believe it was," she replied, "To be honest, I didn't know he was dead until I got this in the mail."

"I'm terribly sorry."

"Don't be…I find it hard myself to be in mourning since I hadn't seen him for a long time."

"How long were you two married?" he asked.

"Oh…" she giggled, "Longer than you've been alive I'm willing to bet."

Well this was amusing but Duncan hoped Methos got there soon to settle whatever was going on.

* * *

One hour passed into two, and two into three, so on until it was after 6 o' clock in the evening and Methos still hadn't shown. Duncan looked out the window to see if he was anywhere in sight. His guest had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for him, and he hoped she didn't wake up until Methos got there. During the four hours they waited, they had very little to talk about, through it all Duncan hadn't even been able to figure out how old she was. 

Finally, the answer to a prayer, the buzz of an oncoming Immortal, that was enough to wake his guest.

"Is that Adam Pierson?" she asked as she got up.

Duncan watched Methos come up the stairs to the loft, "Yes it is."

"Sorry I'm late, MacLeod, I was held up for a while, so what's going on here?" Methos asked as he entered the room.

The woman turned around and looked as Duncan tried to explain the best he could, "Adam, this is…"

"Methos!" the woman exclaimed, "Oh my God, Methos, is that really you?"

The woman jumped off the couch and ran over to Methos, she jumped into his arms and grabbed him around the neck.

"Jezebel, I don't believe it," Methos replied.

"You cut your hair," she observed.

"You grew yours back," he replied.

"It's great to see you again, Methos," she said.

"I haven't seen you for the longest time," he said. Then a sudden realization hit him, "Oh no, you're…"

"What just happened here?" Duncan asked.

Awkwardly, Methos put Jezebel back on the ground and tried to figure out how to explain this mess. "Duncan MacLeod, this is a very old and good friend of mine, Jezebel…" he turned to her, "I trust you've met Duncan MacLeod already."

"Does he know?" Jezebel asked.

"Some."

"Enough?"

"Not quite," Methos replied.

He turned back to Duncan and tried to explain what was happening here, but Jezebel did it for him.

She took a step forward from Methos, looked MacLeod straight in the eyes and explained, "Kronos was my husband, Mister MacLeod…and, it would seem he appointed Methos as his attorney."

"Oh well that makes a lot of…what!?"

And with that, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, 400 year old warrior from Scotland, fainted.

"Does he do that often?" Jezebel asked Methos.

"Oh Jezebel," Methos said, "This one is going to take a lot of explaining on both our parts, you realize that don't you?"

"Yes, but Methos…"

"Hmm?" he turned to face her.

"I am glad to see you again, it's been so long."

"Yes," he agreed as he wrapped his arm around her, "So long, so unbelievably long."

"Well I'm glad that you are the attorney appointed for this whole mess, saves me the trouble of tracking you down to tell you what you already know," Jezebel said, "How long have you known Kronos was dead?"

Methos looked her in the eyes and answered with every ounce of honesty in him, "I was with Kronos the night he died."

"How horrible it must've been for you…I miss him, Methos."

"So do I," he replied. He just didn't have the heart to tell Jezebel the rest of the truth which was that he was responsible for her husband's murder.


	2. Chapter 2

Methos pulled MacLeod's unconscious body onto the couch and tried to wake him up, when he finally did come around, he was blubbering like an idiot.

"W-w-what happened?" he asked. Then he looked to Jezebel and it all came back to him. "Kronos'…wife?"

"Widow now," Jezebel replied, "Methos…"

Methos shook his head, "Jezebel, I swear, I have no idea what all this is about, I was never a lawyer to any of this."

"Then why is your name listed as the appointed attorney?" she asked.

"The only thing I can think of is Kronos must have arranged it all somehow."

"But how could he do that without you there?" she asked.

"Who knows? Who knows how Kronos ever did anything that he did?"

"Well," Jezebel said as she looked over the legal papers again, "I guess I shouldn't put anything past him…he always did have a way for doing what everybody considered impossible."

"Yes, but this takes a new turn, even for him," Methos said as he took the papers. "I can only figure one of two things…either he wrote up everything himself and made it look like authentic signing on the parts of the four witnesses and the attorney, or he had somebody act as the attorney and the witnesses."

"Well is it a valid will?" Jezebel asked.

"No but I think the courts will accept it for one."

"Then you'll be the lawyer?"

"What choice have I? Look at this, Kronos signed my alias to an exact duplicate of my own writing…how could he have done this?"

"The will was written little over a year ago," Jezebel said.

"A year? He knew for over a year that I was still alive? I think I need to sit down."

"Are you allright?" Duncan asked.

"I don't know…I think so…"

"Whatever he'd been doing this last century it must really have been something," Jezebel said and pointed to the will, "Look at that, Methos, 50 acres of land in the Oregon Territory."

"Jezebel, nobody's called it that for over a hundred years."

"Well you stick with what you know," she replied, "He also put in there an amount of $5,000,000, said it's buried out in Arizona and had exact directions on how to find it drawn up as well."

Methos dug through the papers and found the map mentioned, "Kronos always was a brilliant planner, he always underestimated himself there."

"Maybe so, but there's just one thing to this whole matter that bothers me, Methos, I mean _really_ bothers me."

"What's that?" Methos asked.

"Can't you see? It's all right in front of our faces…Kronos _knew_ he was going to die. Otherwise he never would have drawn up a will; he never made one in the 40 years we were together after Agua Dulce."

MacLeod cleared his throat, "Maybe I should give you two some privacy."

"You're welcome to stay if you want," Methos said, "Everything's certainly coming out in the open now…Jezebel, where are you staying currently?"

"Oh, I don't live here…I just came here after I got these in the mail…I'm going to see if I can get a room at a hotel for the time being."

"You'll do no such thing," Methos told her, "You can stay with me."

"Really?"

"It's the least I can do for an old friend."

"And former sister-in-law, don't forget that…"

"I guess I kept you waiting quite a while, huh?" he asked.

"I spent four hours trying to find you, then another four waiting here for you."

"Sorry…have you eaten yet?"

"No, have you?"

"No, you hungry?"

"Starved, shall we head to your place?"

"Well since this is a special occasion, why don't we go out?"

"Can we go over the will if we do?" Jezebel asked.

"We'll go over everything you have if you want, let's just go," Methos said.

"Okay," Jezebel picked up her discarded jacket, "See you later, Mister MacLeod, it was nice meeting you."

"It was…nice meeting you too, Jezebel," Duncan replied.

Methos picked up his coat and quickly said that he would explain what he could when he got back later, and with that, the two left, and after they were gone, Duncan realized he needed to sit down. His head felt ready to burst, Kronos' wife…widow, she'd corrected him. That woman had been married to Kronos for over 40 years? But she didn't know who killed him, she didn't know that _he_ had been responsible for Kronos' death. Would Methos tell her? He didn't know, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know, she seemed nice enough as it was but there wasn't any telling what she might do once she found out.

* * *

Methos took Jezebel out to a fancy restaurant for the night where anybody who wasn't seated at a table was dancing in a ballroom, they took a table near the back and while they ate, Methos went over the will.

"So you think we have a case?" Jezebel asked.

"Could very well be," Methos dug through the paperwork, the will, affidavits, and even a birth certificate Kronos had printed up, and he laughed, "I still can't believe this one."

"What is it?"

"The birth certificate, Jack Zamora, born August 13th, 1966."

"What's so funny about that?"

"Think about it, Kronos was passing himself off as a 30 year old man."

She thought about it for a minute and laughed, "Somehow I never took Kronos for being the vain sort."

Methos became quite serious as he looked over the paperwork again, "I just never thought any of this could ever happen."

"Any of what?" Jezebel asked.

"Kronos dying, what more him making me the attorney in his estate…I never saw anything like this coming."

"Do you miss him?"

Methos had to think a minute before he answered, "Very much, Jezebel."

"He sure missed you, you know."

"Really?"

"Don't tell me you're surprised," she replied, "You two were brothers for thousands of years."

"Did he happen to tell you how we went our separate ways?" Methos asked.

"He did."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Don't you hate me as well for what I did?"

"Why should I? What's done is done, and by what he told me, you had good reason to leave him," Jezebel said.

"I suppose so," Methos replied.

"Don't tell me, the 5,000 year old man is finally starting to feel regret?"

Methos awkwardly half grinned and said, "I think we're going to need another bottle to get through this evening."

Jezebel giggled and snapped for the waiter, "Garcon, bring us another bottle of wine and make sure it's nice and cold. There's nothing worse than a vintage wine too hot to breathe."

"You certainly are taking all this rather well," Methos said once the waiter left.

"You could stand to take it a little better yourself," she told him, "We're not exactly at his funeral right now."

It took every ounce of resistance in Methos to not tell her that he had put together and performed the funeral himself. It killed him not to be able to say it, but he just couldn't.

"It's okay, Methos, I know you miss him…I know you loved him too…his death will take a while to get used to."

"You have no idea."

"So," she said, "Tell me, what have you been up to all these years?"

"Many things," he replied.

"Well I'm still a little woozy from today, so how bout you tell me about some of your more recent escapades?"

He told her a brief history about his becoming Adam Pierson, leaving out the Watchers and everything connected with them. When he finished telling her, she had an awkward grin on her face and she giggled, "Adam Pierson, mild mannered college graduate…hell must be freezing over."

Their waiter returned with a new bottle of wine, which Jezebel gladly accepted.

"When we leave," Methos said, "I don't think you'll be in any condition to drive."

"That's allright," she replied, "According to the men who give out driver's licenses, I never have been."

"So tell me, Jezebel…what _have_ you done since you and Kronos separated?"

"Not too much, life without him was always rather dull…so tell me about that friend of yours, MacLeod…who is he?"

"A friend."

"Old one?"

"No."

"I didn't think so. There's something about him I don't trust…can't put my finger on it though."

"What do you mean?" Methos asked.

"I'm not really sure…he just, he doesn't strike me as the kind of person I'd trust with a rock garden, let alone my secrets," Jezebel replied.

"Well we're none of us perfect," he said.

Jezebel giggled as she poured another drink, "Do you hear that?"

"What?"

"The music."

Methos listened to the music emerging from the ballroom, it was a bit of a slow piece but suitable for dancing.

"Do you dance?" she asked.

"Not for a while," Methos replied.

Jezebel giggled again, "Kronos _hated_ to dance…though part of that might be because whenever we did, I wound up putting the poor bastard through a window and he usually wound up in the horse trough outside."

Methos laughed when he heard that, "You what?"

"I never meant to, I guess I just got caught up in the music…of course when they played, it was livelier stuff than this."

"Exactly when did you two meet up again?" Methos asked.

"1867 I reckon it was in Agua Dulce…Texas Rangers shot him down and I saw him when they buried him…after they gone, I dug him up and took him back to my hotel room…he was a mess by that time," she explained.

Methos looked at Jezebel and tried to remember. He could almost swear that he had heard those words, more or less as they were, somewhere before, but he couldn't think of where. Before he could clear his mind, Jezebel had gotten up from her chair and was pulling on his arm. "Come on, Methos," she said.

"Come on what?" he asked.

"Let's dance," she said as she gave his wrist another tug.

Methos got up and found himself being dragged into the ballroom in the middle of a dozen other drunken couples.

_Just like old times,_ he thought as she pulled him along,_ So bossy, just like Kronos._

One part of him felt awkward dancing with his brother's wife, another part of him let the wine go to his head and he wasn't really conscious enough to care. He had to admit, it felt nice, after all the hell he'd gone through the past few months it felt nice to be this close to someone who he didn't have to worry about taking his head.

After a while, the room started spinning faster than they were and Methos felt himself beginning to fall away.

* * *

He didn't know how much they'd had to drink that night but it must've been a lot because the next thing he knew, he woke up and it was the middle of the night. He was in bed and looking out the window it was pitch dark except for the stars in the sky. Turned over in bed he saw Jezebel laid out on the other side, dressed in a flimsy blue nightgown. Throwing back the covers on his side Methos saw he was more or less still in his own clothes, for which he was grateful.

Methos got out of bed and padded over to the kitchen, he reached along the wall for the light switch and was blinded a second later. Now he felt cold, no, he was far past cold, he felt chilled to the bone.

"You okay?" he heard.

He about jumped out of his skin when he heard that, turning around he saw Jezebel standing in the doorway. Seeing her clad in a thin night gown was enough to give _him_ gooseflesh.

"I'm fine," he replied.

"So what're you doing up?" she asked as she waltzed into the kitchen.

"Couldn't sleep," he said, "Want a drink?"

"What're you having?" she asked.

"Coffee…I think I'm going to need it."

"We certainly had fun tonight wouldn't you say?" Jezebel asked as she sat at the table.

"To be honest," Methos said, "I don't remember much…what _did_ happen tonight?"

"Oh we went through a couple more bottles of wine and danced until they told us to leave because it was getting late…and you said we'd take all these legal papers up with the probate court over in the Oregon Territory to make a case."

"Jezebel, it's not…never mind, never mind, what happened after that?" Methos asked as he sat down beside her.

"Well then we came back here and you showed me around your poor excuse for a home. I really can't believe you're living here."

"Why's that?" Methos asked.

"If you stored 18 people playing Sardine, into a broom closet with a space of three by five feet, that would be roomier than this dump you're staying in. Methos, why don't you come with me to Oregon?"

"Oh no, I couldn't," he replied as he shook his head.

"Why not?" Jezebel asked.

"It's not as easy as that, my life's here, my friends are here. The world as of now knows me as Adam Pierson, the people that know me, most of them don't expect too much and I give them that to keep from blowing my cover."

"Of all the things in the world you could've picked, Methos, why did you pick this?" she asked.

"It's difficult to explain," he said.

That was the truth, and it was even more difficult to explain without bringing the Watchers into it, but that was something he had to do.

Jezebel shook her head, "Look Methos, it's late, you're tired, I'm tired, we've both had an exhausting day, why don't we just go back to sleep?"

"I can't," Methos replied, "I can't sleep."

"What's the matter?" she asked, "Aren't you feeling well?"

His head was starting to pound again, how was he going to tell her the truth?

"Methos," she said, "Do you know who killed Kronos?"

She knew, she had to know. He nodded.

"Who was it, Methos?" she asked, "Who killed him?"

He felt his stomach tying in knots, his heart was in his throat, how was he going to tell her? How could he tell her?

"Take it easy, Methos, you don't have to tell me, not tonight anyway, you're already pretty worked up," Jezebel said.

Methos nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt her hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, Methos, let's go to bed, you'll feel better in the morning," she said.

Methos nodded and got to his feet and went back to the bedroom with her. He was starting to feel sick again, he felt delirious, as if this weren't happening at all, as if it were all a nightmare, but he knew it was real. He felt Jezebel reach under the covers and take his hand.

"You're cold," she said, "What's the matter with you? You can't be getting sick."

"I guess it's just overwhelming is all," he replied.

"You think I was dead too?" she asked.

Methos shook his head, "No…no…for the longest time I didn't even think about it…but somehow…somehow I knew you were still alive."

"Kronos thought I was dead, in Agua Dulce, he cried about as much in six hours then, as he did those first three days after he made me Immortal…you remember how big a mess he was at the time, right?" Jezebel asked.

He remembered, he remembered. He nodded.

"Kronos told me about the Horsemen," Jezebel said, "Wasn't too proud of it at the time, he thought I hated him for it because they took out a lot of people I knew, but I always got away before they ever came…it's a shame though, a damn shame…for thousands of years we never saw each other, but had I been a day and a half slower in traveling, I might've met up with you guys again. It's…it's kind of funny, Kronos and I were married for almost four thousand years, but we only spent about 60 years of it together." She laughed sadly, "Have you ever heard of such a thing?"

"No," Methos replied.

"I never married anybody else…never even looked," Jezebel said, "Oh don't think the men weren't interested, they were but I wasn't. I always figured I'd find Kronos again someday, and even after I found out he died…well it just doesn't seem right, to marry again."

"I was married…about sixty eight times," Methos said.

"Well, to each their own," Jezebel replied, "Mind you, I don't think there's anything wrong with marrying again…it's just not for me. You remember Ruth used to talk about God and heaven and all that stuff?"

Methos remembered…he remembered very well.

"I got to thinking about it all, I think it would be pretty confusing because if you die, and you go to heaven, and you're reunited with your husband, or wife, and you married several times in your life…exactly _which_ one are you reunited with in heaven? Going by the Christian theology, there wouldn't be any harems there."

Methos laughed when she said that. Between Kronos' wife and his, Ruth was always the more blunt one, the one who could say whatever she wanted and feel no remorse about it. Now it seemed Jezebel was taking over there.

"Anyway, I decided when my time comes I want one husband and one husband only to answer to when I meet him again," Jezebel said, "He might disagree with it, I don't know, but I don't want another husband."

"I'm just glad you're allright, for the longest time, Kronos and I were worried about you," Methos said.

"About me? Why on earth would you be worried about me?" she asked.

"Did Kronos tell you what happened the last night that we were all together, when you got away?" Methos asked.

"No he didn't, what did happen?" Jezebel asked.

"We were taken prisoner, we were beaten, and raped, several times…I don't know, to this day I don't know what those men were, but they couldn't have been human…it was the breaking point in Kronos, that's where the Horsemen started…the world was afraid of us and so they tried to kill us or imprison us, and again we would live as they pleased. Kronos wouldn't have it, we would rule over them instead, from there it just expanded until we were, what we were."

"My God," she said, "But why were you worried about me?"

"Jezebel, when we were together, you were the best off of us all…you hadn't been raped in your whole life, you didn't know what it was like, the fear, the shame, the guilt…"

"Victim's guilt?" she said, "You mean…"

"Not so much _has_ changed in four thousand years, that guilt is still alive in people to this day…but you, Jezebel, you were spared that fate, how I don't know but I'm thankful for you…we were worried if you were raped after you got away…"

"That I'd go crazy?" Jezebel asked, "Well I wasn't…I was never raped…I got killed plenty of times for it, but I swore the only man who would ever touch me was Kronos, and he even after being the leader of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, and wiping out a better part of the population in two continents, he was still the only man I was around that I didn't have to worry about him hurting me…I guess that's why I don't look for a new husband now, grace and finesse was a rarity in our times but he maintained it, and there are men now who know more about the process of sex but don't know a thing about that in how to do it right. They have a good number of words for it now, but whenever Kronos and I did it, you believe me it wasn't anything like that…this generation…" she tried to think of the word, "this generation seems to get its kicks from screwing one another…Kronos and I made love, and nothing less. Isn't it odd though?"

"What is?" Methos asked.

"Civilization…we're supposed to be so much more civilized now than we were in the past, yet we seem to be returning to the beasts that mankind is accused of evolving from, isn't it odd?"

"Indeed it is," Methos replied.

"Think about it, Methos, I mean really think about it, for over 50 years we've been capable of destroying the whole planet. These days you have firearms that can take down dozens of people in a matter of seconds, you have bombs that could probably blow up whole continents and need only a few buttons pushed to do it."

"I know."

"In addition…the laws to how a rape is avenged have been tamed down, but the process is just as horrible and what more, one's word isn't enough anymore…now you about need a video of the bastard doing it to get any sort of conviction…and even if he is convicted, he only gets about three weeks of probation, enabling him to go out and do it again. Some days I swear I wish we'd left it at stoning the bastards to death at the first word. That to me is more civil than what they do now, drag the whole ordeal on for months, and years, and drag the victim through the mud while the attacker is made out to be a hero or an innocent bystander. Just how civil is that?"

"You might be right," Methos said, "For the most of it though, I have to say I like the way the world's changed…"

"Changed for what though?" Jezebel asked, "We're more progressed now, more enlightened, more aware, more evolved? All for what? So now we can bomb the daylights out of anybody we disagree with? Pride and intelligence are two things that always remain, regardless of what and who dies in war, and nothing in the world has ever caused mankind so much pain and loss and agony and heartbreak as pride and intelligence."

"You should've been a philosopher," Methos told her.

"Bah, they're all like politicians, all full of hot air…they talk, they say things that come just off the top of their head, and the world eats it up like it was garlic soup. They never benefited me any. You know, Methos, I'm about as old as Kronos was, give or take a century, and never have I known anybody that so few people could ever benefit…the world does me no good, only you and Kronos ever did."

"It can't be as bad as all that," Methos said.

"No, but it sure comes close…I've spent a better part of the last three thousand years keeping to myself…and now…now you're the only one left."

"Don't talk like that, Jezebel."

"You're right, at this rate we'll never get any sleep," she replied, "Goodnight, Methos."

"Goodnight, Jezebel," he said.

Methos closed his eyes and tried to sleep, for a minute he felt that he was _exactly _where he belonged. In a strange sense it almost felt like he was truly home again, it almost felt like he was back with Kronos again, then he felt someone squeeze his shoulder. He looked over at Jezebel, who was already asleep, but she had both of her arms folded on her pillow, she couldn't possibly have reached over to him. Methos tried to figure it out, for a minute, then exhaust won him over as well and he drifted off to sleep.

Jezebel felt somebody grab her as well, she opened her eyes and turned over and looked at Methos, who was turned the other way and about to fall out of the bed himself. He couldn't possibly have grabbed her, but she could swear she felt a hand touch her.

Shaking her head, she figured all she had to drink that night was starting to catch up with her, so she turned back over and went to sleep. All the same she felt simultaneously relieved, and confused. It was nice for the first time in about a hundred years to not have to go to bed alone and miserable, but then again it felt weird because it felt like Kronos was with her again. She told herself that it was because he and Methos had been together for thousands of years and being around Methos again would feel familiar to how it used to be. All the same, there was something else to the whole thing nagging at her mind, but she couldn't figure out what it was, so she gave up and drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Methos felt the presence, he felt the smaller body laying in his arms and it felt as if time had fallen back thousands of years. Feeling the sunlight beating down on his closed eyes, he slowly opened them and found out it was not his first wife, Ruth, that he was holding, but his brother's wife, Jezebel, who was also slowly coming around.

"Methos!" realization kicked in and she scrambled out of his arms and out of bed, "I'm sorry, Methos, I guess I had more to drink last night than I thought."

Slowly, everything came back to Methos. He remembered last night, he remembered yesterday, and he remembered this throbbing headache which was returning. He had to tell Jezebel that he was responsible for Kronos' death, but how could he tell her? For that matter, _how_ had he gotten out of telling her last night?

Jezebel gathered up her clothes from yesterday, "Methos, do you think we could hold off heading out to Oregon for one more day?"

"Sure, why?"

"Well, I got to thinking last night, and I guess I didn't really give that friend of yours, MacLeod, much of a chance…maybe I should try and get better acquainted with him before we leave. After all, any friend of yours ought to be a friend of mine as well," Jezebel explained.

Methos nodded, "If you want, that would be allright."

Methos got up from the bed and slowly approached Jezebel, dear God, how was he going to tell her?

As Jezebel finished dressing, she noticed that Methos was trying to say something. "Whatever it is that's got your tongue, just spit it out," she said.

He _couldn't_ do it, it was as easy as that. He could admit to being a coward, he could admit to being a bastard, he could even admit to being a heartless killer, but what he could _not_ admit to was making her a widow.

"After Kronos died…I buried him…a few miles from here, if you want, when we leave I'll stop through on the way so you can see it…him."

"Buried him? Buried him where?"

"It's sort of a family plot, nice private place, nobody else knows about it," Methos explained.

She nodded. "I would like that, Methos…when we separated he never gave me much of a chance to tell him goodbye…but before we go to his grave, I'd like to stop somewhere else first."

"Where?" Methos asked.

"A florist…I kill everything I plant, I want to take some good flowers to the grave with me," she replied.

Methos couldn't help but laugh. Jezebel always did have a way with words. He knew he shouldn't be laughing given that he was responsible for this mess, but he couldn't help himself.

"Come on, Methos, let's get out of here," she said, "I want to meet your friends…you do have more than just MacLeod, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"Good, I was starting to worry about you," she told him.

* * *

Meanwhile at the dojo, Richie had come over wondering what had happened yesterday, and Duncan saw it only fit to fill him in on what was going on. At least as far as he was able to tell him from what he knew.

"A wife?" Richie asked in disbelief, "Kronos had a wife?"

"Apparently," Duncan replied, "She doesn't know how he died."

"She knows _how_ he died, Mac, she just doesn't know who did it," Richie corrected him, "Do you think she'll kill Methos when she finds out?"

"I don't know," Duncan said.

Richie sat down and tried to think, "Mac?"

"I don't know what to make of it, Richie, don't ask me," he replied.

"I hope Methos is allright," Richie said.

The elevator started up.

"We'll probably find out in a minute," Duncan said.

Both men were surprised to see both Methos and Jezebel emerge from the lift.

"Surprise," Methos said.

"There's another one," Jezebel said.

"Oh yes, Jezebel, this is another friend of mine, Richie Ryan."

Jezebel took two steps over to Richie and stopped. "Oh my God."

"Is something the matter?" Duncan asked.

"Methos, have you looked at him?" Jezebel turned to him.

"What do you mean?"

Jezebel turned back to Richie, "I mean…if his hair was darker, and his nose kind of curved down like a vulture's beak, he'd almost look like Kronos."

Nobody knew what to say after that, but six eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when she said that.

"Of course, Kronos also had that long scar going straight down his right eye," she added, "And you don't have that, thank God."

Methos knew he still owed MacLeod an explanation for things yesterday, however Jezebel seemed to have other plans. She strongly suggested Methos that he and Richie go somewhere for a while so she could get better acquainted with MacLeod for a while. Methos was reluctant but he knew that like Kronos, there was no winning an argument with Jezebel.

"Come on, Richie, let's go," Methos said.

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Richie asked.

"Shhhhhh."

Jezebel laughed as she watched the two leave. "I think I'm starting to see why Methos would rather stay here." She turned to Duncan. "Mister MacLeod, I'd like to know just how well you know Methos."

"What do you mean?" Duncan asked.

"Well if you know his name, then you also know that he's considered the oldest of us still alive."

"I do."

"And?"

Jezebel headed over to the couch and sat down, Duncan followed and sat in a chair next to the couch.

"And what?"

"We're both adults here…everybody who hears about Methos the 5,000 year old man has some expectation for him to be something great, somebody wise, some kind of all seeing all knowing sorcerer or something. What about you?" Jezebel asked.

"I used to, then I met him."

"How long ago was this?" Jezebel asked.

"A couple years ago."

"I see…and I'm guessing you knew Kronos as well."

Now it was hard for Duncan to breathe. "Not so much," he replied, "Just around the end."

"I could've guessed," she said, "You didn't like Kronos then."

"No," Duncan replied, "Not at all."

"He had that effect on people," Jezebel said, "Mister MacLeod, how old are you?"

"407, why?"

"I'm a bit older than 4,000 years old myself…do you remember your first death?"

"Yes," Duncan replied less than willingly.

"I remember my first death too, and Kronos was responsible for it."

She found the look on MacLeod's face when he heard that, to be quite humorous. "I'm guessing Methos hasn't told you much about his past."

"Not very much," Duncan answered.

"Well, turn time back a few thousand years to when we all first really met, it was a different world, an entirely different existence. We weren't civilized though we liked to think we were…not too much different from people today I suppose. Methos was about a thousand years old the first time he married, and I was there when he married. A woman named Ruth, she had been a prisoner, she'd been beaten and raped, found as a witch, and she was going to be killed. She was mortal, not like us…and Kronos, he was the one who came riding in and saved her. He took her back to Methos…and they fell in love, almost instantly, they married a short while after that, and then not long after, Kronos and I married as well."

"So you were already Immortal at the time?" Duncan asked.

"Oh no, no," Jezebel giggled, "Oh Lord, no…not yet, I knew what they were though, Ruth didn't…she and I resided in the same tribe, one ran by fear, and hypocrisy, we were both found as witches and to be killed…the day of my execution was when the four of them came in, took out everybody else, except for me. Kronos and I knew each other before that though, when I was a child, he and my father were friends for a while. Then he disappeared and I didn't see him again for seventeen years about. When he came back he brought with him Methos and two other monkeys, Silas and Caspian."

She watched the look on MacLeod's face change, "You met them too I presume?"

"Yes."

"For the most of it I'd say they were easy to get along with…except Caspian, he was relentless but he was also stupid, which made it very easy to beat the hell out of him. But anyway, Ruth and Methos married, and she was his first wife, Kronos and I married shortly after, he was my first and only husband, I wasn't his first wife or his last, but that didn't matter at the time. Skip ahead 20 years, Ruth died…she wasn't killed, she wasn't sick…I guess natural causes can just strike any damn time they please. Well, Methos was inconsolable after that, Kronos and I kept him with us every day and he slept between us every night because we were afraid what he might do if he got away.

"Methos had a history of running away when he was scared, or when something happened that he couldn't help…and it usually took us half the day to find him again. Well, whatever killed Ruth was killing me too, Kronos knew this, and _only_ he knew it. So he and Methos worked up a plan to kill me and make me Immortal, that was a first for Kronos, having a wife he wouldn't outlive. Kronos, the conniving bastard, I was still in bed, he told me to close my eyes, I did and he drove a knife into my chest, no explanation. While I was dead, they tied me up so I couldn't run, and when I came back to life, I was well aware of what I was. I was fine with it, Kronos was a mess."

"Really?"'

She saw the unbelieving look in MacLeod's eyes. "I'll beg you to remember that while Kronos was a bastard, he was still human, MacLeod…no matter what he did, he was still human, he still loved and he still hurt. And boy, after he killed me, I didn't think he'd ever get over it…three days we had to watch over him at all times. He never told me what it was, I guess it was just the overwhelming knowing that for once, he wouldn't lose his wife to illness or old age. Once he was able to pull himself together he started training me…taught me everything he knew…which wound up killing him several times.

"I have to say it was rather nice while it lasted, but it didn't last for too long. One day we were attacked, we were outnumbered and defeated easily…they weren't Immortals, just a bunch of dumb, superstitious mortals who figured we were something to be feared, and once again ruled over. Well, Kronos made me promise before that, if it were to ever happen, I'd leave…I hated doing it, but back then when we vowed to honor our husbands, we _meant_ it. In fact, it was only last night that I found out how fortunate I was that I _did_ listen to him."

"What do you mean?" Duncan asked.

"The 1600s might have had their share of fear and superstition and poor souls being condemned by the words of the ignorant, but they can't compare to what went on in our times. We might not have been pressed to death and hanging might not have been too popular an execution method back then, but those fools weren't anymore civilized than the people you've had to deal with in your time. In your days you mainly had to worry about being killed, or imprisoned…Kronos and Methos and the rest of us we had to worry about people overpowering us, enslaving us, beating us to death, burning everything we owned, cutting open the people we loved just to make us suffer, raping us till we bled, relentless humiliation in being disfigured and maimed and paraded around in front of the laughing idiots, only for it to continue all day every day for years.

"And if it weren't bad enough being ruled over by some sadistic 'master', in cases like Methos', he was chained to the ground for years, froze to death in winter, burnt to death in summer, starved and thirsted every week of every passing year. For all I know, Methos was treated worse than that for longer than you've been alive. It makes me sick when I think of what they had to endure, that is the life they put up with almost a thousand years before they got their revenge."

She seemed to collect herself. "Maybe I've said too much…maybe Methos would've been happier with you not knowing all of this…but you know Methos and you knew Kronos, and you knew Silas and Caspian as well, I don't see the point in hiding it all anymore…I've never been able to talk to anybody about what we went through…now Methos is the only one left, and I don't _dare_ talk to him about it all because I know how easily the past upsets him. And when Methos gets upset…well, it takes the patience of a saint to console him and I _really_ don't know that I can do that by myself. Kronos was always better at that, probably because he had the most experience."

"Kronos?"

"Yes…Kronos and Methos were brothers; you can't begin to guess how deep that bond went with them. If it weren't for Kronos, I'm positive that Methos would've been dead long before now. Just because he's the oldest doesn't mean a damn thing, Mister MacLeod. He's not the strongest, or the toughest, he's just a survivor, like Kronos, you have to remember that he's still human. He's not perfect, he hates fighting, doesn't do it anymore than he usually has to, he can get hurt very easily, especially when he lets his heart do the thinking for him instead of his brains, something he, to my understanding, is notorious for. Truth be know, Kronos could be the same way. I don't know, maybe it was something common in men back then, not men today…no sir, today they let all the blood go to their groins instead of their brains."

She caught herself late on that one, she giggled, "Sorry…I guess I never know when to quit."

"It's allright."

"Look, I don't really know what I'm trying to say but here's my point, Methos is my friend, Kronos was my husband, they were brothers for over four thousand years, now Kronos is dead and Methos is getting used to that fact. If you are his friend, you won't make this any harder on him than it already is."

Now Duncan really felt like a heel, this all being said months after the damage was done.

Out of nowhere, Duncan felt something hit him on the back of the head. He turned around to see what had happened, but he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Maybe he was imagining things, he didn't think so, but if he drew more attention to this than he already had, Jezebel would think he was crazy. So he returned to his previous position and acted like nothing happened.

"But enough about that," Jezebel said, "Tell me about yourself."

* * *

Meanwhile, Methos and Richie were heading to Joe's, and the entire way over, Richie bombarded Methos with questions about Jezebel.

"Does she know who killed Kronos?" Richie asked.

"No she doesn't, Richie."

"Is she going to know?"

Methos stopped in his tracks and didn't answer, that in itself was answer enough for Richie.

"Methos!"

"She's not going to come after MacLeod, Richie, don't worry."

"What about you?" Richie asked, "What's going to happen to you?"

"Don't worry about it," Methos said.

They entered the bar and spotted Joe immediately.

"Are you going to tell him?" Richie asked.

"What's to tell him about?"

"Methos..."

"Shush."

"Adam," Richie corrected himself as they approached the bar, "Don't you think you should tell him?"

"Tell me what?" Joe asked.

Both men looked at him and with a smirk on his face, Joe responded, "I'm guessing. So what's going on?"

"Do we really have to go into the dreary little details of my past so early in the day?" Methos asked.

"Adam, tell him," Richie said.

"Allright I will, but not here. Joe, can we step into your office for some privacy?"

"Yeah, sure," Joe called over to one of the bartenders and told him to fill in while the three of them were gone.

* * *

Once in a room where they could speak freely without having to worry about being overheard, Joe wanted to know what was going on.

"I have to say, Methos, I'm glad you're allright," Joe said.

"You don't know the half of it," Richie told him.

"Joe, do you remember a woman from yesterday?" Methos asked.

"Asking for Adam Pierson? I remember, did you find her?"

"Yep," Methos answered.

"Who is she?" Joe asked.

"She's…she _was_, Kronos' wife."

"What?!" Joe asked, "He had a wife?"

"He had several, she was just the one he had at the time that we were together," Methos said.

"I still don't get it," Richie said.

"Neither do I," Joe said, "What's she doing here?"

"Kronos had a will drawn up before he died, had me listed as the attorney, somehow the papers got sent to her instead, so she came to find me and she did," Methos explained.

"I don't get it, I mean…I mean how…"

"What did she ever see in him?" Methos asked.

"Yeah, something like that," Joe said.

"Long story…over 4,000 years ago, Kronos and Silas and Caspian and I, we rode in and took out a village…not for our own personal gain, for revenge."

"Revenge for who?" Richie asked.

"My wife, Ruth…she was mortal, and she lived in a tribe of people that were going to put her to death for being a witch."

"Why'd they think she was a witch?" Richie asked.

"Well she…" Methos looked at Richie and decided otherwise, "No, no, never mind, you're not old enough to know."

"So what happened?" Joe asked.

"Kronos saved her…we went back to kill the bastards that tried to kill her, and we found Jezebel, who at that time they were trying to kill her for being a witch…for different reasons than Ruth. She wasn't Immortal yet, but we knew it wouldn't be long. She came back with us and shortly afterwards, she and Kronos married."

"You mean he fell in love with her just like that?" Richie asked.

"That was a long time ago, all of us much younger back then, Kronos was an absolute sap back then…I honestly believe he could've fallen in love with a catfish if it had a pretty enough smile…yes, he fell in love with her, just like that…"

"So what happened?" Joe asked.

"Ruth died, Kronos made Jezebel Immortal, he trained her…then we were under attack, outnumbered and easily defeated…Jezebel got away, and I never saw her again until yesterday…however she found Kronos in 1867 after the Texas Rangers got to him, and they stayed together for 40 years after that," Methos explained.

"So what happens now?" Richie asked, "She's going to want to find out who killed him, isn't she?"

"She wants very much to know, and I think she has a right to know," Methos said, "But don't worry, she's not going to come after MacLeod. He played only a minor role in what happened."

"Methos, you can't be serious," Joe said, "You can't tell her that."

"I can, I will, and I have to, Joe, I have to if I'm going to keep from losing my mind," Methos said, "I've already decided. I'm going to tell her tonight, but before I do, Joe, I must ask you a favor."

"What is it?" Joe asked.

Methos stood up next to Joe and whispered in his ear while Richie watched the ordeal, tensely and anxiously.

"Methos!" Joe sounded shocked, and almost disgusted.

"Joe, please!"

Richie could feel his stomach tying in knots, it sounded like Methos was desperate to have Joe do this for him.

"Allright, allright, Methos, I'll do it," Joe answered.

"Thank you," Methos was relieved.

"_If_ I have to," Joe added.

"Thank you, Joe," Methos put his arms around Joe and held close to him for a minute, "I don't know what I did right to get you as a friend."

"Just try to come out of this is one piece, okay?" Joe asked.

Methos kissed Joe on the cheek, "I'll do what I can, but it's nice to know I can depend on you if things go as I expect they will."

"Methos," Richie started.

"I better get back and make sure MacLeod's allright," Methos said.

"Methos wait," Richie said, "What's going to happen?"

"I wish I knew, Richie, I can only guess."

"But Methos!"

Before Methos left, he went back towards Richie and looked him dead in the eyes. "I appreciate your concern, Richie, you've been a great friend even if I never acted like it. Thank you."

That said, Methos was out the door before Richie could catch him. Richie turned back to Joe and asked, "Just _what_ did he ask you to do?"

"He said if anything happens to him, he wants me to have his body sent to a private cemetery a few miles from here…he said the directions are with his will and a bunch of other papers, and he told me where to find them as well."

"Oh my God!" Richie exclaimed, "He's serious, he really thinks she'll kill him."

"You think she won't?" Joe asked.

"What now?" Richie asked.

"Don't ask me," Joe said.

Richie tried to say something but he choked on it. He tried again, "I don't know what's going on here, but I can't just stand by and let her kill him, Joe."

"I know."

"It's not his fault that Kronos had to be killed," Richie said.

"I know."

"So what don't you know?" Richie asked.

"How to stop this from happening," Joe replied.

Richie thought about it for a minute and came to a decision, "Well I do."

"Richie, where're you going?" Joe asked.

"I'm going to make sure that that woman Jezebel doesn't get in any lucky swings at Methos' head," Richie explained.

"Richie!"

"I'm going, Joe, I'm going."

"I know…" Joe replied, "Good luck, this is a woman almost as old as Methos you'll be dealing with, I think you'll need it."

* * *

Methos pushed up the door to the lift and walked into the loft, surprised, and relieved to find both Jezebel and MacLeod allright.

"Welcome back, Methos," Duncan said.

"Thanks, MacLeod…I hope Jezebel hasn't been boring you with a bunch of old stories."

"Not at all," Duncan replied, "You have no idea."

"Jezebel," Methos said, "I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad _you're_ here," Jezebel replied, "Now we can leave. I just remembered neither of us has eaten since dinner last night. Do you happen to know a nice place we can go to for lunch?"

"Sure."

"Great," Jezebel leaned in close to Methos' ear, "Between you and me, this 400 year old infant is enough to bore me to tears, I couldn't wait for you to get back here."

Jezebel then turned back to Duncan, "Well Mister MacLeod, it's been quite an experience, not one in particular I hope to repeat anytime soon, but it's been interesting. We'll see you later."

"Okay," Duncan replied.

"Mac, I'd like to explain," Methos said.

"There's no need, Methos, I think Jezebel pretty much covered everything," Duncan told him.

"Oh…right, well I guess we should be going then, goodbye," Methos said as they headed to the lift.

"Goodbye."

After they had gone, Duncan was still trying to piece together everything Jezebel had told him, when all of a sudden he got hit on the back of the head again. This time when he turned around, he found what had hit him. Lying on the floor beside his foot was a metal ashtray that had been kept on the table. Now he knew he wasn't imagining things, but he also couldn't explain what the hell just happened.


	4. Chapter 4

Methos and Jezebel left the dojo and by some run of luck, they ran into Richie again, who wasn't looking too excited.

"Richie, fancy running into you again," Jezebel said, "I certainly hope Methos wasn't boring you earlier."

"Oh not at all," Richie replied in a less than enthusiastic tone.

"Have you eaten yet?" Jezebel asked.

"No."

"Terrific, we're going to lunch, you can come with us."

Richie looked at Methos, whose only explanation was, "She's very much like Kronos, _so_ bossy."

"I've had a lot of experience," she replied, "So Richie, how long have you known my brother in law?"

"Not too long," Richie answered.

"So it'd be safe to guess that he didn't diaper you," Jezebel said.

"Honestly," Methos said, a hint of flush rising in his own face, "The things you say."

"So what? I'm old, I'm supposed to be a colorful person. So tell me Richie, just what have you found out about Methos so far?" Jezebel asked.

"Oh…I'd guess not too much."

"No," Jezebel looked over at Methos and giggled, "No I wouldn't think so…tell me Richie, did you ever meet Kronos?"

Something familiar hit Methos again. He could almost swear he'd heard this before, but he knew he hadn't.

"No, no I didn't," Richie replied.

"Ah too bad, I have a feeling he would've liked you," she said.

"You think so?" Richie asked.

"Very much," Jezebel responded, "In fact, it's too bad he died before you two could meet, I'd bet he would've loved you."

"A few thousand years ago maybe," Richie said as he looked towards Methos, remembering what he'd said earlier about Kronos being a sap back then.

"Could very well be," Methos said, "Thousands of years ago, Kronos loved youth about more than anything."

* * *

After lunch, Methos and Jezebel started back for his apartment.

"Well Richie, this has certainly been an interesting afternoon so far," Jezebel said, "We'll have to do it again sometime, maybe when we come back."

"Come back?" Richie asked, "Come back from where?"

"Methos and I are going to the Oregon Territory tomorrow morning to speak with the probate court about the will."

"Well…how long…I mean when will you be back?"

"I don't know, how long do you think it'll take, Methos?" Jezebel asked.

"Well wills are always a tricky matter, however Kronos never got sloppy in anything his did, so that could be a very large advantage on our part. So it's hard to say."

"Oh, well…what time are you leaving tomorrow?" Richie asked.

"Probably early," Jezebel said, "If you want to come over later, feel free to, insofar as I can tell we've nothing else planned for today."

"Okay, I will," Richie said.

They reached Methos' apartment and Jezebel started in, "You coming, Methos?"

"I'll be there in a minute, go on ahead."

Jezebel nodded and went inside.

"So do I need to ask why you followed me again?" Methos asked.

"Methos, you can't tell her what happened to Kronos," Richie said.

"I have to, Richie, she was his wife for over 4,000 years, she has a right to know," Methos replied.

"But Methos, what's going to happen after you tell her?" Richie asked.

"I really don't know," Methos said.

The panic that Richie had held in all afternoon was starting to break through, and Methos couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the tear that rolled down his cheek.

"Methos, you can't!"

"Look Richie, you're a sweet kid, I know you don't like hearing that but you are, and you don't really know a lot yet…but this is something I have to do."

"But Methos…"

Methos grabbed Richie quickly and kissed him on the cheek as he had Joe. "Listen to me, Richie, I meant what I said earlier, you've been a great friend, I love you, and I love Joe and MacLeod, you've all been great friends, I'll always remember that."

"Methos, don't do this," Richie said.

"I have to, Richie…maybe in a few hundred years you'll understand. Now go on, it isn't going to be pretty around here."

Richie didn't want to go but he knew he had to. He wrapped his arms around Methos' back and held tight for a second, "Goodbye Methos."

"Goodbye, Richie…don't be upset for me, I've brought about my own misfortune."

Richie turned and left, Methos knew that Richie didn't want to leave, but he hoped the boy understood.

He returned to the apartment and found Jezebel in the kitchen at the table.

"Is everything allright?" she asked.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Methos replied.

"That Richie sure is a nice one…of course he's young and I guess that might have something to do with it," Jezebel said.

"Not necessarily," Methos said.

"True…maybe I shouldn't have said what I did about him, eh?"

"Well we're all entitled to our opinions," Methos said.

"I just couldn't help it, it just knocked me back, he _really_ does look like Kronos if you think about it."

"I didn't," Methos replied.

"Uh Methos, I'd like to apologize for this morning," Jezebel said.

"Apologize for what?"

"Well…it was nice being back with you again after so long, and I guess it just felt so familiar…almost like I was back with Kronos, and this morning when I woke up…for a minute it just felt like I was back with him again."

"There's no need to apologize, Jezebel…when I woke up I thought I was back with Ruth."

"I guess it's going to take both of us a while to get used to this…especially since we'll be heading out to Oregon together."

"I've been wondering about that," Methos said, "What're you going to do with that property? It sounds like it could get lonely after a while, 50 acres of land and only you there."

"I've been thinking about that too, but you know Methos, I've been by myself for so long I think I'm getting used to it. What I want to know is what did Kronos do with that land? He must've done something with it in order for it to be in any condition to inherit now."

"I guess we'll find out when we get to Oregon," Methos said.

Jezebel giggled and then caught herself, "I was just thinking, last night I told you about Agua Dulce when I found Kronos."

"Yes," Methos answered.

"Well…after I dug him up, and took him back to my hotel room…" she laughed again, "He had this full beard, if I had to kiss him then I'd almost swear it was comparable to kissing a monkey. So I took a straight razor and shaved the whole thing off while he was dead…of course, by the time he saw me, he was so out of it that he didn't even notice until the next day in the afternoon."

"It must've been wonderful to see him again after all those years," Methos said.

"It was, for a while," she replied, "But after about 40 years…I don't know, whatever there was between us was basically gone…we got on each other's nerves constantly. Then one night, neither of us could sleep, I think we'd truly fallen out of love then. It tore me up knowing that we had to go our separate ways the next day, but I also knew I couldn't stand living with Kronos anymore…"

Methos watched her. It was only one tear that slid down her face but it was enough to break whatever heart he had.

Jezebel managed to pull herself together after that, only now it was Methos who was crying.

"Methos, what's the matter?" she asked.

"Jezebel," he wept, "I'm sorry, I'm truly sorry."

"Sorry for what?" she asked, "What're you talking about?"

Jezebel tried to put her arms around him but he stepped back. He didn't deserve comfort, or sympathy, he knew that.

"Jezebel…Kronos died because of me…I killed him," he tearfully confessed.

"You?" she asked.

Methos nodded, not daring to meet her eyes again. Instead, his eyes focused on her sword over by the couch, the long sharp blade was just too inviting. For thousands of years he'd done whatever it took as long as it meant surviving, well he didn't care anymore. He had to tell Jezebel the truth, and now that he had, he was going to die anyway, so what did it matter? Jezebel turned around and she saw what Methos saw, and she saw what he was heading to, and she stopped him. She had to fight with him to keep him away from the blade, but she managed. Slipping her foot behind his, she managed to trip him up and send him falling backwards.

"My God, Methos, that's it," she said, "That's what you were trying to tell me last night, that's why you were so upset."

He couldn't answer, he couldn't even try to explain, he could only cry, cry and scream. Jezebel helped him up and took him back to the bed, and Methos found his voice and was able to explain. He explained about everything the best he could, Kronos and the Horsemen, the virus, the bomb, the Horsemen rule or the world dies, everything. He told her all that he could remember, and he was certain that once he finished talking, she would take his head, but he didn't care anymore.

Instead, Jezebel sat down beside him on the bed, she took his hand in hers, and with her other hand she gently stroked his head, and waited for him to calm down. After half an hour, he was able to, and he asked her why she didn't kill him.

"Because," she answered, "From what you told me, Kronos left you with really no choice. Methos, you can't blame yourself for what he became."

"I know," he nodded, "I know, I can't, but I do…Jezebel, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to make you a widow."

"I know," she replied.

"I'm sorry."

"Quiet, Methos, quiet, it's allright, just calm down, it's over," she told him.

"Jezebel, you don't understand…I did want to kill him, but it wasn't at your expense, it was never at your expense…I never meant to hurt you in the process."

"Methos, listen to me," Jezebel firmly gripped his jaw to get his attention, "Kronos was my husband and I loved him, but he was also your brother and you loved him…he didn't give you any choice, Methos, you _had_ to do it. Now it's done, it's over, stop worrying about it. I don't hate you and I'm not going to try and take your head over it."

"I did love him," Methos admitted, "I could never understand _what_ changed him, _what_ made him into the beast that he became? I wonder if I'd stayed with him if maybe things would be different, maybe he'd still be alive."

"And maybe you would be dead and six billion other people as well," Jezebel told him, "Methos, he put you in a corner and you had no choice. You can't blame yourself for what he did. You were both adults, the idea of an adult is they no longer require somebody to watch over them all the time, they can do for themselves, they take care of themselves…Kronos was your brother, your friend, not your responsibility, not your life."

"But he was, that's just it, Jezebel…for thousands of years, we relied on only each other, we needed only each other."

"Yes, Methos, I know," Jezebel told him, "Yes, you did need each other, yes you only relied on each other, but that was thousands of years ago…times change, people change."

"No, only the details change."

"And it was the details of your life that changed too…you can't hate yourself simply for being human, for needing a life of something other than coddling and catering to Kronos' every demand, every second of every day. Methos, do you really think that if the Kronos I met up with again, were the same man you killed, that I would let him go?"

Methos shook his head.

"No I wouldn't…and if it had been me that killed him, would you want my head?"

Again Methos shook his head.

"There, you see? There's no sense in beating yourself up over the inevitable."

"I still feel terrible about what I had to do," Methos told her.

"I know, Methos, I know, but that's just the sort of bastard Kronos was," she said, "I loved Kronos, but I'll be the first to admit that he _was_ a bastard. But dear, he's dead now, we're alive, and I think we're entitled to enjoy it, don't you think?"

Methos tiredly nodded.

"Don't move," she told him, "I'll be right back."

Methos couldn't move, he hadn't the strength, but at the same time he felt like an immense weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and his chest.

Jezebel returned from the bathroom with a cold washcloth, first she gently pressed it over his eyes, then down his face.

"No wonder you were upset last night," she said, "You poor dear, you really thought I'd take your head?"

"I couldn't blame you if you did, you would've been within your rights," Methos said.

Jezebel smiled and she kissed him. "Kronos was right, you can be adorable when you're miserable. Methos, I loved Kronos very much."

"I know."

"And I love you too, you spatula head. I learned a long time ago that the only person who's going to stay with me my whole life is myself…now, I miss Kronos very much, especially because he didn't let me tell him goodbye. But I don't hold you responsible for what's happened, it was fate."

"I loved him very much…I never thought I'd get over it when he died," Methos said.

"Tomorrow I'll tell him goodbye, after that Methos, I want you to stay with me for a while."

"I will, until we can get the will settled."

"Screw the will, Methos, it doesn't matter…I don't care about the inheritance…you need to get away for a while and relax, I need somebody to visit with, tomorrow we'll head out and we'll just stay away for a while, it'll do you some good," Jezebel told him.

"Maybe you're right," he tiredly replied.

"Look Methos, since neither of us has anything planned for the rest of the day, why don't you just lay here for a while and rest? I'll take care of everything."

"Jezebel, there's something I'd like to ask you," Methos said.

"What's that?"

"How can you be taking all of this so well?"

"Life's too short to spend it all in mourning, Methos, I learned that a long time ago also," she explained, "Now go to sleep, I'll still be here when you wake up."

Methos felt Jezebel grab his hand and stroke over it a bit as he slowly drifted into sleep.

* * *

An hour later, Jezebel heard the roar of a motorcycle's engine down below. She looked out the window and saw Richie pulling up. Methos hadn't been asleep for too long and she had an idea he needed it, so she slipped out of the apartment and down out the front doors to see what was going on.

"Hi Richie, what's going on?" she asked.

"Is Methos here?" Richie asked.

"Yes, he's upstairs asleep."

"Can I see him?"

"Richie, you may be a charmer with the ladies but you'll have to try and be more subtle than that. Just what do you think it is that I've done with Methos?"

He didn't answer, and that in itself was answer enough for her.

"Oh my God, he told you about Kronos, about how he died, didn't he?" she laughed, "And you thought that I was going to kill him?"

Jezebel laughed until she was almost sick, but she could tell Richie was not amused.

"Come on, Richie, I'll show you he's allright…you two I swear, you both think so much alike it's scary."

They headed up the stairs and back into the apartment. Jezebel figured that Methos must've been exhausted because their presence wasn't enough to wake him.

"Is he okay?" Richie asked.

"Yes, he's just tired," Jezebel said, "He's been worrying himself for a while about something that didn't matter."

Richie carefully made his way over to the bed and sat down beside Methos and being very cautious about it, reached out and touched him.

"Methos, are you okay?"

One eye opened, and then the other, both heavy with fatigue they only opened about halfway, but since that was usually how Methos looked at people, it could almost be considered normal.

"Richie?" he said in a quiet, tired voice.

"Are you okay, Methos?" Richie asked.

Methos slowly nodded, "I'm fine, Richie."

"Are you sure?"

Methos nodded again, "It's allright, Richie."

"I'm trying to explain to Richie that I'm not going to kill you," Jezebel said, "But he doesn't seem to want to believe me. Can you tell him?"

"Don't worry, Richie, it's over," Methos said, "Everything's allright."

"That's a relief," Richie told him, "I was worried."

"Methos, does anybody else know about this?" Jezebel asked.

"One," Methos said.

"MacLeod?"

"No," Methos shook his head and laughed, "I didn't tell MacLeod."

"Good," she replied.

"Richie," Methos said, "Go tell Joe not to worry, tell him to forget about the will and the papers."

"And the cemetery?" Richie asked.

"Yes, and the cemetery, tell him to forget it all, he won't need it now," Methos told him.

"That's great to know," Richie said, "Are you going to be okay?"

"Oh yes, I'll be fine," he replied, "Just go on now…get going before Joe has a heart attack."

"I'm going, see you later."

"Goodbye."

The door closed behind Richie and then he was gone.

"He sure is a nice kid, isn't he?" Jezebel asked.

"Don't let _him_ hear you say that," Methos said, "He hates it."

"Well he sure is sweet, and he really seems to love you, Methos."

"Well I suppose you might say we just grew on each other, like a set of warts," Methos said.

Jezebel smiled, "Well it's good to know one of us didn't prove to be a loner after all these years. Methos, are you feeling better now?"

"Oh yes, much better."

"That's good…uh Methos, do you think I could get a shower? It's been a while."

"Oh sure, sure, go ahead."

"And you'll still be here when I come back, right?" Jezebel asked.

"Where am I going?" he asked, "Go on, I'll still be here."

"Okay," she replied, "I won't be long."

"Take your time," he told her.

* * *

He heard the bathroom door close and he thought now he'd be able to get some sleep. Only he couldn't get comfortable, so he rolled over onto his side, then he slipped his arm under the pillow…and he felt something.

Grabbing hold of whatever was under the pillow, he pulled it out and found it was a white envelope, still with the seal intact. Turning it over, he saw there was no writing on it except for two words right in the middle:

Dearest Brother

"Oh my God," Methos said.

His heart in his throat, he broke the seal and took out a folded letter. He unfolded it and he couldn't believe his eyes as he read it over.

Dearest Brother,

Sorry about the abrupt departure. I know you would have enjoyed to stay longer, but it wasn't in the cards. I know these last few months have been rough on you, and I hope now that it's all finally over, you can rest and get your life back to normal. I know you're entitled to it after everything I've put you through. I love you very much, even though I know it hasn't been obvious for the last two thousand years. I'm proud of you to have survived this long and to still be living by your own free will. I'm also relieved that insanity hasn't caught you as it has so many Immortals that I've come across, both in that life, and here. I know MacLeod's your friend, and if he knows what's good for him, he'll start acting the part. I'd like to say it's quieter here without you, but that's a lie if I ever told one. It keeps rather noisy here, but don't worry, Silas and Caspian aren't at each other's throats anymore. Death seems to have done wonders for their tempers. Who knew? I see that Jezebel is on her way to you, ordinarily I wouldn't say somebody like her needs watching over, but all the same I think it would be best if you would keep your eye on her for a while. She's very much like we both are, or were, she puts on to be much stronger than she really is. Also, for a while I'd appreciate you keeping an eye on Richie, he reminds me a lot like you if for nothing else, the simple face that he hurts often and easily in this life. He, like a lot of people I've known, including you, is one of the sort of people who needs a reminder that he's not alone, and that he's loved. I did the best I could when he was with me, but now I need somebody else to step in my place with him. I love you all very much, and I know you're going to be allright now. We may be separated by the realms of the living and the dead, but I'll always be close by if you ever need me. I leave you now on this note and wish you all the happiness in the world.

Your loving brother,

Kronos

Methos was crying before he even finished reading the letter. Looking in the upper right corner, he saw that the letter was dated yesterday. That would be right after that awful dream he had. Only now, he realized, it wasn't a dream, it was all real.

"How could this be happening?" Methos asked himself.

"You'd be surprised what happens once you're dead," he heard.

"Oh my God," Methos said, "It can't be."

And then once again before him stood Kronos, and then everything came back to Methos. He remembered everything from the night before last, every last detail.

"What're you doing here?" Methos asked.

"You look like this is a first for you," Kronos said.

"You'll have to excuse me, but I'm not used to having my dead brother pop up in my bedroom," Methos replied as he got up from the bed.

"Well, I figured it might be kinder on you if I came to see you this time, instead of taking you back to see me," Kronos explained.

"I've got crazy, haven't I?"

"Oh no, no my Dearest Brother, no, you're perfectly allright."

"Allright?" he repeated, "Kronos, do you have _any_ idea what I've gone through for the last two days? Just when I thought my life was getting back to normal, Jezebel comes…Jezebel come and she has a will that you had fixed up with my name on it, not just my name, an exact duplicate of my own handwriting. I find out that you knew a year in advance that I was alive, what more I'm trying to figure out _how_ you could ever know you would die, and know it to such a point that you actually had a will drawn up. And I had to tell Jezebel how you died, and I've nearly gone crazy and taken everybody down with me on it!"

With every word Methos said, he got one step closer to Kronos until he was almost on top of him, and with the last word, he collapsed into Kronos' arms, crying. Kronos crooned and laughed as he held his brother and led him back to the bed to set him down.

"Kronos, just tell me, how," Methos said, "How did you know you were going to die?"

"Well as you've said before, we're none of us perfect, I had an idea that somewhere along the way, I'd slip."

"But you knew Jezebel was alive?" Methos asked.

"Yes," Kronos said, "I suspect she'll outlive us all."

"But what about the will? How'd it get sent to her?" Methos asked.

Kronos chuckled, "Well you might call that a little posthumous doing."

"But why send it to her?" Methos asked.

"Because she didn't know I was dead, and I knew she'd take it easier if you didn't have to tell her."

"So what happens now?"

"Now, now tomorrow the two of you head out to speak with those addlebrained lawyers in bad suits about the estate. Methos."

"What?"

"Jezebel's right, it would do you some good to get away from everything here for a while."

"You really think so."

"No, I know so, and if you're smart you'll listen to her."

"Kronos…when you left Jezebel…"

"Now don't start."

"Kronos, she's upset, she hates the fact that you left without letting her tell you goodbye, why didn't you let her?"

"Well, we didn't get a chance to 4,000 years ago and that went over allright in the long run, I thought it might again."

"Well why don't you let her tell you now? I can see you, can't she too?"

"She could, if I wanted her to," Kronos explained.

"So why don't you?"

"Remember what that doctor said, Methos, 'patience is a virtue'."

"So is revenge, what's your point, Kronos?" Methos asked.

"I'll tend to that soon enough, but in the meantime you two go on just as planned. I'll see her again when the time's right. Now, are you feeling better now?"

Methos weakly nodded.

"Good," Kronos grabbed the covers and brought them up over him, "Now you go to sleep now and relax, and I'll see you soon, allright?"

"Okay," he tiredly responded.

Kronos leaned close to Methos and kissed him, then he took Methos' hand and held it carefully in his own, "I love you, Brother."

"I love you too, Kronos."

"You'll be allright now, the nightmare's over," Kronos told him.

* * *

A short while later Jezebel emerged from the bathroom showered, dressed, and with half of her hair sticking up like a rooster's comb. She saw Methos was still in bed, sprawled out on one side like a murder victim, if he were any closer to the edge, he'd fall off. Jezebel laughed as she walked over to him. When it was three of them in one bed, Methos was the only one who didn't stand much chance of turning over in his sleep because he was stuck between she and Kronos always.

She had to admit, Methos looked much younger when he was asleep, he always had. Here he looked like a tired child who couldn't be woken if it was the 4th of a July at a nitroglycerin plant.

"My dear brother-in-law," she crooned as she stroked his hair.

It was then that Jezebel realized that Methos was holding something, gently removing it from his hand she found it was just a blank piece of paper. A blank envelope with a torn seal lay on the floor beside the bed. Jezebel didn't know what to make of it, but it was in her better judgment not to throw them away. Maybe it all meant something to Methos that he'd be able to explain later. And even if he couldn't explain it, she knew, it didn't matter, if it all made sense to Methos, then that was all that mattered. So she carefully placed the paper, and the envelope, on the stand by Methos' bed. She felt something, and her heart missed a beat.

Turning around she saw that there was nobody else in the room except for she and Methos, who was still dead to the world. But she could swear that she felt somebody kiss her. Last night in bed she felt somebody touch her, the same way Kronos used to when they went to sleep. She remembered how he reached over and gently gripped her arm right under her shoulder, in a sort of reassuring manner. When it happened last night she chalked it up to just having too much to drink and going on too little sleep. Now she was wide awake and sober and she felt somebody kiss her. She brushed it off to the wishful thinking of a grieving widow and left Methos to rest while she started on dinner for the two of them. What she wasn't aware of was that when she turned her back to the paper she put on the stand, its contents returned in exact details to the letter that Methos had read.


	5. Chapter 5

Methos woke up a while later and saw that the sun was starting to set.

"How long have I been asleep?" he asked.

"Not too long I don't think," Jezebel replied from the kitchen, "Did you sleep well?"

He had to think a minute. Had he slept well? Yes, yes he had. He remembered, before he went to sleep, he remembered the letter, and Kronos…

"Yes," he answered.

"Methos, I've been thinking about something," Jezebel said.

"What's that?"

She came into the bedroom and sat down at the foot of the bed. "I've been trying to figure out why Kronos made out that will, why would he do that when he lived over 4,000 years never once entertaining the notion that he might die? Then I got to thinking, he loved me and he sure as hell loved you, this I know because he talked my ear off every day for 40 years about you…do you think he knew something was going to happen?"

"Who's to say?" Methos asked, "There was never any out-guessing Kronos."

"Not usually anyway," she replied, "But something had to have happened that made him decide to make out a will."

Methos nodded.

"But, I guess none of that matters now, after all, Kronos is dead, I'm the heiress, and you're the attorney, and that's about all there is to it now," Jezebel said.

Methos closed his eyes for a minute and felt Jezebel's hand trace across his face.

"You're looking a lot better now," she said, "Are you feeling allright?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Good, do you feel up to dinner?" Jezebel asked.

"Dinner?" Methos asked.

"I guess you have been asleep for a while," she said, "Well, come on."

Jezebel started pulling him out of bed.

"Quit pulling, I can walk," Methos insisted, "Jezebel?"

"What is it?"

"Are you sure you don't hate me?" Methos asked.

"Why would I hate you?" she asked.

"I mean…I can understand if you do."

"Don't start again," Jezebel said, "Life is not guaranteed, Methos, not even to Immortals, we just take the days given us and we make the most of them that we can. Any one of us might be gone tomorrow, it's nobody's fault, it's just fate…what's going to happen will happen, which is why it's important to tell people you love them while you have time, you might not have a chance later. That said, I love you very much, you were always a great friend, and you still are. Now, are you going to eat your dinner or am I going to have to feed it to you?"

Methos smiled a bit and sat down at the table, "What're we having?"

* * *

After dinner, Methos told Jezebel that if they were going to go before a probate court, he had better look presentable, so he went to take a bath. About half an hour into it he started falling asleep when he heard the door open and Jezebel came in.

"You allright?" she asked.

He was a bit embarrassed but other than that he was allright. "Fine, why?"

"I knocked a couple times but you didn't answer," she told him.

"Is there something you need?" he asked.

"No, I just needed to talk to you."

And it couldn't have waited until he was out of the tub and dressed again, he thought. "What about?"

"I was just wondering, Methos…you said you were married 68 times?"

"That sounds about right," he answered.

"Are you with anybody now?"

"No," he shook his head.

"Are you sure?"

He hesitated answering, "About a year ago, I was with this woman Alexa…but, she died not long after."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that…is she at the family plot too?"

"No…to be honest, I think it's starting to get crowded there," Methos said.

"But you're not seeing anybody now?"

"No."

"Why not? Don't they have any decent women in this town?" she asked, "You're not much to look at, I'll give you that, but nowhere was it ever written that men had to be pleasant looking, only their wives. But on another side of it, you're smart, you're nice, you're pleasant company, and what more you have an unexplainable capacity to love. I mean it, Methos, no matter what was going on while we were together, no matter what Kronos or I or anybody did, you always loved us…now, what woman in her right mind wouldn't want that?"

"It's not all as simple as just that," Methos said, "There are other things."

"Like what?"

How was he going to make her understand? "I just don't feel like looking for somebody else so soon after Alexa…it's hard to explain."

"No it isn't, it's like why I don't remarry after Kronos…just that the sensation doesn't last as long with you, you long for somebody to be with more than I do."

"Dammit," Methos smiled, "How did you get to know all this?"

"Because I used to live with two of the greatest men that ever lived, and I picked up a lot from them," she explained, "Now come on, Methos, either get out of the tub or turn on the hot water again, you'll get cold in there before long."

Methos grabbed one of the towels and stepped out of the tub, "Jezebel?"

"What?"

"Nothing…I'm just glad that we met again…you have no idea how nice it's been."

"I can imagine," Jezebel replied, "I bet that if I tried, I could tell what you're thinking. I know what it's like, there are days when things seem to be going allright, then there are days when the whole world's out to get you and you've got nobody to back you up. It's human nature really…we're all afraid of being alone, no matter what we might think…we may like being alone but we never feel secure until we're with somebody who can understand us, and we spend more time fearing that the people we love won't understand us, because we fear confrontation and rejection. The human race is certainly a fearful lot, but what can you expect from a race in which people can end up dead, or lives can be ruined just by what somebody says? We don't fear so much actually being pushed away, just hearing that we're not welcome and they don't want us around."

"I swear," Methos said, "The way you can tell all these things when I haven't said a thing is so frightening, it just gags me."

"But you don't need to be afraid of me, Methos, you know that."

Methos walked into her embrace and buried his face in the back of her shoulder, "Yes, I know that, but tell me something. Tell me why I always feel safe around you? Tell me, why do I get the feeling that no matter what's happened, or what I've done, I can tell you about it and I already know it's going to be allright?"

"Because I'm your friend and I would never do anything to hurt you," she replied, "I don't judge people like that."

Ouch, if MacLeod heard that one, Methos thought, and he almost laughed.

"But you were always like that," Methos said, "Why?"

"Because when I first met you, I knew I could trust you…and I figured if I could trust you…if you ever needed my help for anything, you'd be able to trust me as well."

"But I don't understand…how could you have known? We were murderers when you knew us and we were bloodier murderers after you knew us."

"Yes, but Kronos saved my life before he even recognized me…before he could even remember who I was…and I saw you that day, you were so lifeless you looked dead already, and I remember Kronos holding you, it looked like he was trying to console you, and during the fight when you were both down, anybody could tell he was more worried for your sake than his own. I'd known Kronos before that, Methos, and I just couldn't see him caring for somebody like he did for you, who might turn around and attack somebody for no reason."

"Well it's a good thing you knew us when you did because had you stuck around when we were the Four Horsemen, you would not have the same opinion that you do now," Methos said.

"That wasn't your own doing, Methos, I know you…something made you what you were, you can try and tell me different until your lips fall off, but I know that something, or maybe just a whole history's worth of something, made you what you became."

Methos pushed away from her embrace, "There you go again, Jezebel, just gagging me with everything you know. How did you ever get to be so smart?"

"I have been on this earth for more years than I can probably remember anymore, I've seen a lot of people come and go, I've learned to watch them for what's important, and see them for what they are, not what they do…some of the most despicable people in existence have turned their leaves and started again, and from what I've seen, they really know what they're doing the second time around."

She cupped one side of Methos' face in her hand and kissed him on the other side.

"I still say you should've been a philosopher," Methos told her.

Jezebel laughed and kissed him again.

* * *

Methos shot up in bed in a cold sweat and a short, wild scream escaped from his throat.

"Methos?"

Jezebel came barreling back into the bedroom from the kitchen to see what had happened, "What's the matter?"

Methos looked around the room for a minute, wildly and cautiously, then he laid back against the pillows, "Nothing, just a nightmare."

Jezebel crossed over to the bed and put her hand on his chest. "Good Lord, your heart's beating like a snare drum, what got you so worked up?"

"Jezebel, since yesterday I'd forgotten something," he started to explain.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Jezebel, before we found out that you were here," Methos said, "MacLeod and Richie were worried that you were somebody else."

"Who?"

"A woman named Cassandra, I knew her a long time ago…during the Bronze Age."

"I'll take it she's nobody you're anxious to meet up with again."

"When we were the Four Horsemen, we took out a tribe of Nomads, and she was among them, she became Immortal that day and afterwards…she lived to serve us, rather she lived to serve me, until Kronos got jealous."

"How long did that last?" Jezebel asked.

"A few months at the most."

"And this was _how_ many thousands of years back? You don't mean she's still carrying that chip on her shoulder like a relentless wart?"

"She is, in fact a while back she had a perfect aim for my neck, but MacLeod stopped her, she left after that and I really didn't think she'd come back here. But apparently I was wrong. She's in town, and I'm worried, I know I shouldn't be, but I am, I'm worried that she's going to come here before we can leave in the morning."

For a minute, Jezebel didn't say anything, she only looked at him. Methos knew what was going to happen, he knew what Jezebel was going to say, but he was still surprised when he actually heard her say, "And you loved her."

Methos wondered for a minute if Kronos was working more of his posthumous humor and somehow giving Jezebel all this information without her knowing. "How did you know?"

"Because, that's the only way she's still alive, if you wanted her dead, she'd be dead, but if she's alive and you can't kill her, even though she's coming for you, then that must mean you love her. Like why you couldn't kill Kronos when you left him."

"But I did kill him, I loved him but I still killed him."

"Because he left you no choice, now what about this Cassandra woman? She's not going to give you any choice either is she? What're you going to do if you _do_ run into her again?"

"I'm afraid of what the answer is," Methos said, "I don't _want_ to kill her, but I want to stay alive too."

"Don't worry, Methos, even if she _does_ come here, she'll have to get through me to get to you, and I _can_ be a real hard one to kill."

"But you don't know what Cassandra can do, she…"

"She what?"

"You probably won't believe me," Methos said.

"What does she do, turn people into toads?" Jezebel asked.

"Not exactly…she…she has a way of making people do what she commands. I can't really explain it, it just…"

"Like hypnotism?"

"Something like that."

"Who do you know that she tried it on?" she asked.

"Well…she tried with Kronos but that didn't work."

"Uh-huh."

"And from what I gather, she's managed to succeed with MacLeod."

"On infants it might work, or addlebrained people certainly," Jezebel said, "But I've experienced most tricks that Immortals tend to use on other Immortals, and she'll have to come up with something bloody spectacular to work on me."

"Maybe you're right," Methos said, "Maybe I'm just getting worked up over nothing."

"I'm sure of it," Jezebel said as she got in beside Methos, "What's this woman look like anyhow? I mean incase we run into her…what'd she look like last time you saw her?"

"Oh…I don't really know how to explain her…"

"Well you said they thought I was her, does she look like me?"

"Not at all," Methos said, "Her hair's much darker, she wears this really heavy makeup…"

"You mean like the French whores?"

"Something like that…and, one of the last times I saw her she had on a bunch of this very tacky jewelry."

"Somehow I can't see you with a woman like that," Jezebel said.

"You should've met my 51st wife."

She took his hand in hers and kissed it, "Think you can go back to sleep now?"

Methos nodded tiredly.

"Good, now goodnight Methos."

"Goodnight, Jezebel."

"Oh one more thing," she said, "When do we leave tomorrow?"

"When do you want to?"

"Early, remember we have to stop by the cemetery first."

"Of course, Jezebel."

"Better make it dawn," Jezebel said.

"Of course, Jezebel."

"Good, now goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Jezebel curled on her side and Methos sprawled out on his side of the bed and within a short while both were asleep.

The night was dark but the sky was filled with a million stars that shone their light in through the windows. On the table, two goblets half filled with champagne remained from dinner hours before. The clock on the wall struck the midnight hour, but both people in the bed were so deep in their sleep that they were oblivious to it, as they were oblivious to the low laughter that seemed to center in the apartment and became louder with every passing second, until a form figured in the middle of the room, revealing himself to be Kronos, back again from the other side for a little fun.

"Lovers, to bed," he laughed as he took in the sight before him.

He walked over to the bed, along the side Jezebel was curled on. Kronos pulled down the covers, grabbed Jezebel's left arm and slipped his other arm under her back and started to move her.

"Come now my dear," he said, "You should remember how to do this, you had no problem doing it to me for forty years."

Kronos slowly and gently rolled Jezebel over to the other side so she now lay in Methos' arms. Satisfied with the sight before him, Kronos pulled the covers back up and looked at them. Seeing the two of them together so easily, and so happily, made him feel once again like the absolute sap Methos referred to him as when he was younger. He laughed in delight of the way everything had turned out so far. Reaching over to Jezebel, Kronos stroked through her hair for a moment.

"My darling wife," he kissed her, then moved over to Methos, "And my dearest brother," and with that, he kissed Methos too.

He went over to the table and picked up one of the glasses and took a drink. Then he looked back over at his wife and his brother and he laughed again.

"Sleep well tonight you two," he said, though he knew they wouldn't hear him, "Tonight is a night of celebration…but tomorrow night," at those words an oh so familiar and oh so sinister grin formed on his face, "Is one of revenge."

* * *

The next morning as the sun came up, Methos and Jezebel were loading up his truck so they could clear out of there soon. They had expected to leave town without running into anybody, however that wasn't in the cards either. Both Richie and MacLeod had come to see them off.

"Where's Joe?" Methos asked.

"Well he wasn't really up to coming," Richie said, "He said he'd see you when you get back."

"I'll hold him to it," Methos told him.

Then Methos turned to Duncan and said, "Well MacLeod, I suspect things are going to be boring around here for a while."

"Well it'll certainly be a lot quieter while you're gone," Duncan said.

"We'll be staying in a hotel until we can get the estate settled," Jezebel told them, "As soon as we arrive, we'll write and let you know how it's going."

"You might want to rethink that," Duncan said, "Living in a hotel that somebody like Adam Pierson can afford."

"Very funny," Methos replied.

"Well, I suppose we'll be off now," Jezebel said, "It was certainly nice meeting you, goodbye."

"Have a good time," Duncan said.

"Actually," Jezebel murmured into Methos' ear, "I was talking to Richie. I can't wait to get away from that monkey, MacLeod."

* * *

An hour later they stopped at the cemetery. Jezebel was awestruck at all the tombstones that covered the land.

"How long have you been burying people here?" she asked.

"About since the state was discovered," Methos answered.

They got out and Jezebel, clutching a large bunch of dark red roses against her chest, followed Methos to where he had buried Kronos.

"Do you remember the way?" she asked.

"I should, I left only a few months ago."

Methos had only to look at Jezebel and he knew her heart was up in her throat as she looked over the place.

"Are you allright?" he asked.

She nodded, "Yeah, are you allright?"

"Yeah."

They continued down one row and passed over a dozen tombstones. Jezebel glanced over the dates, 1889, 1891, 1894, 1899, 1900, 1901, 1910, 1914, 1918, the dates went further and further.

"Here we are," Methos said.

Jezebel stopped behind him and looked. Up ahead there were four tombstones side by side, with a large space between them and the rest of the graves. Three of the stones had been carved into with epitaphs, the fourth stone was still blank, she could figure who was going to be buried there.

Methos stayed back and let Jezebel go on. Kronos' grave was the 3rd in the row, slowly she knelt down and laid the roses on the dirt next to the stone.

"Well Kronos, here I am," she said, "I guess you were wondering if I'd ever come around to it…I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to say. I guess I should start by saying that I love you, and I miss you. I…I'm doing allright…I guess Methos is too, he seems to be taking all this fairly well, but he could still stand to loosen up a bit. I'm really sorry that when we went our separate ways, we didn't really end it on good terms. Of course, we always figured we'd have another day to make up for it. That's the problem with being Immortal I guess…you get used to the idea of always having another day and you tend to forget that you can still die, and you might not have another chance. That being said, Kronos…I'm mad at you…I'm mad at you because you wouldn't let me tell you goodbye and I needed to. 90 years I've waited, I guess up till now, I was still holding onto the illusion that I'd get to talk to you one last time and…then I could really tell you. Well…I'm saying it now because, Kronos, I'm a very old woman, older than any other left in this world…I spent a long time waiting to find you, and then I spent a long time waiting for you to come back. Now…" her voice was breaking, "Now I'm letting you go, because I have to live my life…"

Methos saw Jezebel slip her hand into a pocket on her jacket and she took out an old ring. She pressed the ring down into the dirt and stood up, "Goodbye, Kronos…I'll always love you, but I have to go now." She turned her back to the grave and said, "Let's go, Methos."

He joined her as they headed back the way they came.

"You know, it's really nice out here," Jezebel said, "Not like some cemeteries I've been to."

"I like it," Methos said, "I have an idea _they_ do too."

They left the cemetery and started off again.

Jezebel kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on the dashboard, and she asked Methos, "How long do you think it'll take us to reach Oregon?"

"Just to enter it? Probably another hour," Methos said.

"Is there anything I should know when we go to court?" Jezebel asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I've spent so much time in courtrooms in the last 80 years or so, for homicide, manslaughter, murder in the first degree, murder in the second degree…I'm worried that when we go to court, I'll say something I shouldn't," Jezebel explained.

"Everything's going to be allright, leave it to me," he said.

"That's the thing that scares me," Jezebel said.

"Where're you staying?"

"What?"

"We'll be staying at a hotel for a while, shouldn't we stop by your place first?" Methos asked.

She shook her head, "There's nothing for me to get."

"How's that?"

"When I got the will, I had just gotten out of jail, three months for aggravated assault and battery…well I was kind of like you, laying low, staying in a small apartment, not drawing attention that I was too well off…only when I was in jail, somebody set the place on fire and everything burnt down. I got out and all I had with me was what I had when I went in, the clothes I have on, and a few thousand dollars. I was staying in a motel at the time, trying to figure out what I was going to do then, and the will somehow got mailed there. It's been one of the better ways for me to start over again."

"Exactly what have you been up to all this time?" Methos asked.

"Not much…not too many times in my life was I ever really able to just settle down somewhere and make a living because something always came up that I was either in jail, on trial or in a grave. I hate to admit it but I've spent a better part of my life running, and being afraid."

"Well then we have something in common," Methos said.

She smiled a bit, "But you know, Methos, I was never the courageous one, that was Ruth…she was always up for anything and everything."

"And you'll note," Methos replied, "In the end it didn't seem to matter too much either way, she still died."

"You miss her, don't you?" Jezebel asked.

"Every day."

"But she was right, you did love again, and you did marry."

Methos nodded, "Life is nothing more than a long, lonely path down an unknown road, and the only thing worse than having to travel down it is doing it alone."

He felt Jezebel take his right hand and squeeze it assuredly, "But you're not alone now."

"And you have no idea how grateful I am for that," he said.

* * *

Once they crossed state lines, both kept their eyes peeled for a decent looking hotel.

"Exactly how are we going to do this?" Methos asked, "Are we going to register as man and wife? Brother and sister? We _can't_ tell them what we really are."

"What's that?" Jezebel asked.

"Attorney and client."

"Well…we're in-laws, but I guess you couldn't really tell them that either."

"No we cannot."

"Allright then," Jezebel said, "Tell the clerk we're brother and sister, we practically are as it is."

Methos nodded, "If that doesn't work, I don't know what will."

A short while later they came to a place, it didn't look anything fancy, but it was definitely better than some places they'd been in. They went in and Methos spoke to the clerk while Jezebel gawked around at all the customers.

They headed up to the next floor and were shown a room that by the looks of it, they could comfortably stay there until the will was settled.

"This is nice," Jezebel said.

"You haven't spent much time in hotels, have you?" Methos asked.

"I mean it'll be nice until we get the house," she said, "I…I never did like the idea of _living_ in a hotel, what about you?"

"You remember what MacLeod said, not in any hotel Adam Pierson could afford."

Methos started to unpack and Jezebel sauntered over to the balcony.

"This certainly is a nice place," she said, "I hope it's nice at the house."

"Seeing as how Kronos was the previous owner, I wonder," Methos replied.

"Well, it would have to be in somewhat a presentable condition wouldn't it, if he left it to me?"

"I hope so," Methos said, "But all the same I shudder to think just _what_ we're going to find there."

* * *

"What time are we going to the court tomorrow?" Jezebel asked.

Methos opened one eye and looked over her way. He was just about to fall asleep when she had to bring it up again.

"10 o' clock in the morning, that'll give us plenty of time to get ready," he told her, "Now go to bed."

"I know, I know, I'm worrying over nothing but I can't help it," Jezebel said, "I'm not used to going to court and I'm not on trial for something. When it came down to a choice between staying alive and _keeping_ my life, I always went with whatever would give me a life to return to, and one that wasn't ruined. Remember I told you before that I'd been killed plenty of times because I never let any man rape me…a lot of those times that I was killed for it, it was in the electric chair, or the gas chamber."

"Jezebel, everything's going to be fine…I've gone over everything, I've been a lawyer for more years than I care to remember, and what more this is a very simple matter that we could have taken care of before the end of the month. Now relax and go on to sleep."

"You're right, you're right," Jezebel said, she turned back onto her side, "Goodnight, Methos."

"Goodnight."

A few minutes passed and then again she spoke. "Methos?"

Methos looked over at the clock. "Jezebel, it's almost 1 o' clock in the morning, at this rate we won't be going to bed until it's time to get up, what is it?"

"I can't sleep," she replied, "It must be the bed, I simply can't get comfortable."

"I don't think it's the bed, Jezebel," Methos said, "The last two nights you wound up on top of me and we were back in _my_ bed."

"You're right, now there's an idea," Jezebel said.

The next thing Methos knew, Jezebel rolled over onto him and knocked the wind out of him.

"Very funny," he said, "Better now?"

"Yes."

"Fine, now goodnight."

"Goodnight, Methos, I love you," Jezebel told him.

"Yeah yeah, I love you too, goodnight."

* * *

Several hundred miles back north, in a less than desirable part of town, Richie lay sprawled out in his bed like a murder victim, and come morning he would probably feel the part too. He'd spent a better part of the night putting back too many drinks and now he was in a dead sleep. So much a dead sleep that he was completely oblivious to the figure that stood at the foot of the bed.

"My son…my dear son."

Kronos looked Richie over and tried to figure out what to make of it. Clearly, letting Richie go hadn't been one of the better ideas he'd had in his life. He already knew what had happened to Richie over the years, Kronos had known about since he died several months ago. As he watched Richie sleep, he stroked through the boy's short hair and for a minute just recalled the last time he saw Richie.

"I know you can't hear me, I also know you don't remember me, I guess it's all just as well," he said.

He reached over and kissed Richie, except for a quiet grunt, the boy showed no sign of feeling anything.

"It probably wouldn't do me any good to try and explain it now," Kronos said, "But regardless of what's happened, I did love you, and I still do."

Kronos heard the clock strike the hour and he got up to leave. He turned back to Richie and said, "Sleep well tonight, my boy, for tonight, the nightmares are going to someone else."

That said, he disappeared from the room and headed off to another destination.

* * *

Duncan meanwhile, sat up unable to sleep, his mind wracked with guilt, as it was wont to do. For the entire day he hadn't been able to get out of his mind the very ideas that were the facts of what had happened. He had killed Kronos, which in turn made Jezebel a widow, and even though things seemed to be allright between she and Methos, both were several hundred miles away somewhere. He shuddered to think of what might have happened by now. Duncan knew if anything happened to Methos, it would be his fault. He also knew that if Methos had to stop Jezebel and that meant killing her, that would also be his fault. He wondered how it was that he always got caught in the middle of these sorts of messes when he felt another presence nearby.

He got up but before he could reach his sword, he went down. He felt somebody kick him in the groin and he went down immediately. Rolling onto his back he looked up and saw Kronos standing before him.

"Oh my God."

"Well," Kronos said, "It's not exactly true what they say, but since I've sent the mice away, now the cat is going to tear into the large rat responsible for this."

Before Duncan could do anything in response, he felt two hands grab him and then Kronos jerked him up, and then everything went dark. Duncan had no idea where they were now, all he knew was that the surrounding area was as black as midnight, impossible to see ahead or back however they might have come.

"You bastard!" Duncan said, "Why are you doing this?"

"Why?" Kronos repeated, "Because, Highlander, I happen to find it long overdue."

He grabbed Duncan by the throat and further explained, "I've waited a long time for this, MacLeod, and you're not going to get away this time."


	6. Chapter 6

Duncan looked on in horror as he realized that one of his greatest enemies, who had been dead for months, now had him by the throat and showed no sign of letting go.

"You're supposed to be dead," Duncan said, "How in the hell can this be happening?"

"Well after 400 years you're supposed to be smart, but I guess they can't all turn out as planned," Kronos laughed.

"What do you want?"

"Never mind about that, you're coming with me, Highlander."

Before Duncan could say anything, they apparently were wherever Kronos had planned for them to go. Duncan could at least now see where he was, but it wasn't any place he had seen before.

It was night wherever they were, a dark and moonless night, the land was covered with sand, and in the sand he noticed bloodstains. The night was quiet but he suspected that the day had seen its fair share of death.

"Where are we?" Duncan asked.

"More appropriately, _when_ are we," Kronos replied, "This is a good some 4,000 years in the past, there's not much to see now but things take on a completely different life in the daytime."

"Why are we here?"

Kronos grabbed the back of Duncan's head and roughly jerked it over to the side, "See him?"

Duncan looked and had a hard time seeing much of anything. Then something, or rather someone came into focus. Curled up in a ball, his back marked and bleeding, his hair long and ratted with dry blood, the young man slept, not easily, not peacefully, he slept in hopes of escaping, for just a short while anyway, the hell that was his life. Duncan noticed something else about this man, he was Immortal.

"Methos?"

"Correct," Kronos said, "You knew him as he hit the 5,000 year mark, here he is not having even reached the first 1,000 yet. Already life's been a genuine hell for him as you can plainly see. Take a good look at him, Highlander."

Kronos gave Duncan a shove and he went over to get a better look at Methos. Duncan went up to him and reached to move him out of the ball he was rolled up into, but Kronos stopped him.

"_Don't _touch him," Kronos warned him.

"Why?"

"I know you're not smart but at least try to act like you are," Kronos said, "Take a good look at him, Highlander…the last thing he needs right now is somebody else touching him. Maybe it's not obvious to you but he doesn't like anyone touching him…however that's the only way he keeps his head, if he doesn't fight them."

"My God," Duncan said.

"And you'll note," Kronos said as he hit Duncan on the back of the head, "He didn't make the rules for this, he's only following them because he doesn't want to die. Something you know a lot of, as your history shows."

"Why are you doing this?" Duncan demanded to know.

"You seemed to enjoy seeing my brother for what that floozy Cassandra made him out to be, not what he is or what he was…you thought you could figure it out so easily but now you're going to find out just _what_ my brother went through. You have no idea what he's gone through, but you're about to find out for yourself," Kronos told him.

Duncan turned back to face Kronos but he was gone. He turned back the other way but Methos was gone as well. Everything started to disappear, and then Duncan felt himself falling. He hit the ground and for a moment didn't know where he was. Then he got up and was surprised to find that his own clothes were gone and he was wearing an old long tunic that had been torn in a couple places. He also came to the realization that he was laying on a bunch of sand and he got up, then he heard some people approaching.

He couldn't understand what they were saying, but two of them grabbed him and turned him over. He tried to resist, but one of the men grabbed him and beat him across the face. Duncan tried to fight them off but he then came to a horrifying realization that he was not as strong as he used to be, in fact whatever strength he had in him was quickly lost while struggling with the three men who continuously beat him mercilessly through the night. When they finally stopped, Duncan wasn't dead but very close, the night was beginning to turn to the break of dawn and he was trying to figure out how in the hell this happened.

* * *

Meanwhile, some four thousand years back to the present and several hundred miles away, Methos was entangled in a less threatening but equally confusing dream.

Methos, the world's oldest man, formerly Death on a horse, and a dozen other murderous bastards through history, was now having the hardest experience in his life, trying to get his son to go to sleep. As he held the fragile bundle of joy in his arms and attempted vainly to rock him to sleep, he was overruled by the insistent wailing of the boy. Whose looks the boy inherited, Methos didn't know, nor did he know just whose set of lungs he'd gotten either.

"Are you still having no luck?" his wife called.

"None whatsoever," Methos replied.

"Here," she said as she came down the stairs, "Give him to me, I'll put him to sleep."

He turned to the stairs and saw Jezebel descend down the stairwell in a long white flowing nightgown. She looked like she had been born royalty, and after all these centuries, who was he to argue?

"I sincerely hope you have better luck than I am, otherwise we're never getting to sleep," Methos said.

"Here, give him to me," Jezebel reached for him.

"I swear, this boy must hate me," Methos said as he handed the child over.

"Oh no he doesn't," Jezebel said as she sat down beside him on the couch.

"Oh yes he does, he only cooperates when you're holding him and not me, why is that?"

"Did you try warming your hands over the fire before picking him up?" Jezebel asked.

"Very funny."

She ignored his last comment and focused on the baby. "What's the matter, Richie? Why are you giving your daddy such a hard time tonight?"

Almost immediately, the boy was quiet and drifted off to sleep.

"I rest my case," Methos said, "As soon as you pick him up, he's as quiet as the dead."

"Be quiet or he'll wake up again," Jezebel told him, "He's a beautiful baby, isn't he?"

"Yes, I just wish we knew whose side of the family he got his looks from," Methos said.

"Does it matter?" she asked.

"No…not at all."

"Come on," she whispered as she stood up carefully, "Let's see if we can put him to bed before he wakes up again."

Methos got up and quietly followed her up the stairs and down the hall to the baby's nursery. The room was dark but the moon outside provided enough light through the windows for them to see where they were going. Jezebel laid the baby down in his bassinet and covered him up.

"I hope he doesn't get cold in the night," she said.

"If he does, we'll know, we always know," Methos said, "Preferably around the time the clock in the hall strikes three in the morning."

Jezebel smiled as she stroked her hand through the boy's short red hair. "I'm worried though," she said.

"Worried about what?"

"He's so small, even for his age," she told him.

"Don't worry, he'll grow."

"I sincerely hope so, I hate to imagine him when he's grown being thin and tall and absolutely scrawny."

"If that happens," Methos said, "We'll know he definitely got his looks from me."

Jezebel giggled, "Come on, let's go to bed."

"Right behind you."

They tiptoed down two doors to their own room and headed in. Methos removed his shirt and put on a long nightgown that went down to his knees and removed his pants and climbed into bed beside Jezebel. She reached over and grabbed his hand, "You're cold."

"So I am," he said.

"Know what they say," she smiled, "Cold hands, warm heart."

"What heart?"

She laughed, "One of these days I'm going to prove you have one if I have to crack open your chest, pull it out and show it to you."

Jezebel kissed his hand and said, "Goodnight, Methos."

"Goodnight, dear," he replied.

* * *

Methos woke up and saw by the clock on the nightstand that it was only 3 o' clock in the morning. Looking down he saw Jezebel wrapped in his arms again. He knew she was nervous about going to court tomorrow so it was best to let her sleep, but he also knew that after that dream he wasn't sure it was a good idea to be this close to her.

Knowing Jezebel, and he liked to think he did, if he moved to the other side of the bed, she most likely would wake up and then neither of them would get back to sleep. So he laid back against the pillows and tried to relax and soon he fell asleep again, still wondering just where in hell that dream came from.

* * *

Duncan however at this same time was in another level of hell. He had no way of knowing how much time had passed but it felt like years. The sun rose and it set and in between, men and women, mortal and Immortal, people Duncan had never seen before, entertained themselves by beating the hell out of him. Every day with everything in him he fought them but it did him no good, he was chained up and brought no food or water. His strength left him more and more with every passing day, he hadn't died yet at least as far as he could remember, but he knew it wouldn't be long. Even Immortals could only last so long without food or water and no chance to heal.

Just about anything and everything that could be done to him was done, he was beaten, whipped, stabbed, cut open, burnt, had poisons shoved down his throat, one particular son of a bitch got his entertainment by tying a braided cord around Duncan's neck and tightening it just to the point that it almost killed him, then yanking it off to start again. It wasn't so much the torture in itself that Duncan hated, he'd been tortured before, mercilessly, brutally, but this was like nothing he'd experienced before. He couldn't remember ever coming across a group of people so brutal, so cunning, so relentless, and so easy to overpower him. They had just come out of nowhere and they never seemed to tire of beating the hell out of him.

He was starting to wonder if this could possibly get any worse, and he soon found out it could. This he found out when one of the men came stumbling over to him, drunk enough to kill a horse and he reeked of sour wine before he even breathed. If he said anything, he was too drunk for Duncan to understand any of it, but it didn't matter. The man grabbed at the tunic Duncan wore and started to rip it off, and with great horror, he realized what was coming next, and he was aware that he was unable to fight the drunk off.

"No…no…NO!"

* * *

Some time later, he didn't know, maybe it was an hour, maybe it was a century, he still lay against the bloody sand, still chained up, still unable to move, and now that the assault finally seemed to be at a momentary end, he cried harder than he ever remembered doing in his life. He was only slightly aware of somebody approaching him until the figure stood hovering over him.

"Well now, MacLeod," Kronos said, "Tell me again how the world of our time was how _we_ chose to make it. Did you choose this?"

Duncan couldn't answer, he was lost inside himself. The shock and the anger and the pain and the fear and the exhaust all worked together that he was almost catatonic.

"Come on, MacLeod," Kronos said, the same tone he used with those words at the submarine base when he offered a choice over MacLeod's life for Cassandra's. "Get up, you're not hurt, not _really_."

And then, as if for the first time, Duncan heard him and he looked up at him, not knowing what to make of what Kronos just said.

"What?"

Kronos grabbed Duncan and pulled him to his feet again. Suddenly it was like nothing had happened, they were back where they originally were in a dark surrounding where nothing could be determined. Duncan realized he again wore the clothes he'd had on that night and not the animal fur tunic, he wore no bruises or cuts or welts, nor was he tied down with chains.

"What the hell is going on here?" Duncan asked.

"Well now MacLeod, you told my brother that the world of our time was how _we_ chose to make it. Did you choose what happened to you?"

"No! I didn't! I hated what those bastards did to me, I could've just…"

Duncan stopped himself before he finished that thought because he knew that he had lost grounds for his previous argument with Methos. "I could've just killed them all," he realized.

"There you go…and what you went through tonight wasn't even close to everything my brother was put through before I found him. How he managed to remain sane the entire time, I've spent my life trying to figure out. Now," Kronos grabbed Duncan by the collar of his jacket and jerked him forth, "You listen to me you judgmental bastard, and you listen well, because I'm not going to repeat myself. For four thousand years, Methos was _my_ brother, I fought for him, I killed for him, I bled for him and I _died_ for him. I love him very much, I always have, I always will. Right now what matters to me is that he's happy and for some foolish reason I can't figure, he seems to have taken a liking to you as a friend." He spat, "Some friend, one who twists the dagger as he jams it into the heart, to watch my brother crumble…well now you've got a chance to not repeat that mistake. Learn this lesson well, Highlander, if you _ever_ do anything to hurt him again, I'll give you a fate worse than death."

That said, Kronos gave the Highlander a hard shove and sent him falling down what seemed like an endless pit.

* * *

Duncan shot up in bed wringing with sweat and his heart about to beat out of his chest, and it was a moment before he realized the phone was ringing. As he grabbed the receiver, he looked at the numbers on the clock and saw it was only six in the morning.

"Hello?"

"Good morning, MacLeod," Methos cheerily responded, "I didn't wake you did I?"

"Adam…no, no you didn't…what's going on? Is everything allright?"

"Everything's fine, how are things going back home?"

"Allright."

"How's Joe?"

"He's fine…but we were wondering, Adam…does Jezebel know about Joe and the others?"

"No she doesn't, she has no idea about them."

"And it would seem they have no idea about her either. Where is she right now, anyway?"

"Still asleep, the trip really exhausted her."

"Uh…Adam…I'm sorry about what I said before."

"What did you say before?" Methos asked.

"When I said we were through…I'm sorry."

He would swear he could hear Methos laugh. "You're still going on about that? Come on, MacLeod, that's old news, we're past that. It's allright."

"No it isn't…I hurt you, and I had no right to."

"You said what you said in the heat of the moment, I should've known better than to take you seriously…in any case, much older friends have said far worse to me and still I bounced back," Methos told him.

"I'm just so sorry," Duncan said, "After you left…and we couldn't find you, I was just terrified that something might've happened and you left thinking I hated you. I thought I did at the time, but it was a stupid idea, you've been a great friend even when I didn't deserve it. You saved my life and I never thanked you, you saved Richie's life, I never thanked you for that either…"

"Don't start, MacLeod, _don't_ start crying again, you'll flood us over the lines."

Duncan tried to think of something to change the subject, "So how are things going so far?"

"We meet with the court in four hours…I've gone over this stuff so long I'm seeing it in my sleep…whatever Kronos did to get all this set up, he knew what he was doing."

"So you suspect it'll pass with little trouble?"

"As long as nobody recognizes Jezebel from a previous court experience, it should be smooth sailing. I should probably hang up now before she wakes up, I'll let you know how it goes."

"Okay, goodbye, Adam."

"Goodbye, MacLeod, give my regards to Joe and Richie."

"I will…Adam?"

"What?"

"I'm glad you're allright."

"That makes two of us, goodbye."

When he heard the click, MacLeod hung up. For a moment he just sat in the darkness, wondering what the hell had happened? When had he fallen asleep? When had reality collided with a dream? Off in a distance Duncan could swear he heard somebody laughing, and his heart missed a beat as he thought of who it was.

* * *

A few days later with no word back from Methos, Duncan went to Joe's to see if his friend had been able to find anything on Jezebel through the Watchers.

"You're sure she doesn't know about us?" Joe asked.

"That's what Methos said," Duncan said.

"Well if that's true," Joe replied, "Then she's been even more of a recluse than he is. Nobody I spoke with ever heard of her, there's no Watcher on her, you said when she first came here, she told you her name was Jewell Zamora?"

"That's right."

"They never heard of that either," Joe told him, "I have to wonder how she could not know about the Watchers and still not be found out by them."

"Kronos managed to escape them as well," Duncan said, "And she was his wife."

"Yeah, as far as we know he didn't know about us…but if those other two baboons had Watchers on them, why not Kronos if he didn't know?" Joe asked, "I've been wondering about that…and the only thing I can think of is he _must_ have known about the Watchers and from there simply found a way to elude them."

"Well," Duncan said, "As far as we know, she's harmless. Apparently she knows that Methos was involved in Kronos' death and she hasn't tried for his head."

"You're forgetting, Mac," Joe said, "Their history goes back four thousand years, she knows Methos, she probably trusts him…she doesn't know that it was actually _you_ who killed Kronos, and she doesn't know you, and from what I understand she doesn't care much for you either. If she were to find that out she _could_ very well come after you, what would happen then?"

"You think I haven't considered that?" Duncan asked.

"I just don't know what to do about it," Joe said, "You're my friend and I'd like to see you stay alive."

"That makes two of us."

"But on another hand, Methos is my friend too, and he was my friend before you ever were, I want to see him live too. If Jezebel comes after you…I don't know what's going to happen…to Methos she's clearly more than just a past acquaintance, I don't know what he would do if something happened to her. Now…I can shoot her if I have to, but what would happen after that?"

"I don't know," Duncan said.

"Then again," Joe added, "Maybe nothing will happen. Methos seems to have made himself the scapegoat to save your neck. He's risked his own life to guarantee yours, that is one _hell_ of a friend you have, Mac. I'd be careful if I were you."

"I know."

A minute later, Richie arrived and he had something with him, seeing that the bar was empty he figured it was safe to talk.

"I stopped by the dojo and this postcard was delivered," he said.

Duncan took the postcard to see what it was. On one side was a funny picture, on the back it read:

Dear Everybody,

So far so good, we're not in the clear yet but the will has proven to be one of the cleanest messes this court's ever seen. Won't be home anytime soon, but looking forward to returning.

Adam

Underneath that was written:

P.S. Having a wonderful time at the waterfront, glad you're _not_ here.

Jezebel

"Funny," Joe said.

"Kronos sure married a weird one, didn't he?" Richie asked.

"He married something," Joe said, "But I tell you, considering everything, she still seems pretty normal, at least from what I saw of her."

"I know, it doesn't make any sense," Duncan said, "To remember Kronos and how he was, and then see her and how she is…it just makes no sense."

"Methos said that Kronos used to be normal," Richie said, "Sort of."

"I know, Jezebel told me, but I still can't see it," Duncan said, "I can't see the man that I killed, as once being normal."

"John Garrick was once normal," Richie reminded him, "So was Michael Moore, and so was Jim Coltec, Mac, if they could once be normal, why couldn't Kronos be?"

As the Highlander was taking all of this into consideration, out of nowhere he felt somebody hit him in the back of the head again.

"I'm never going to hear the end of this, am I?" Duncan asked, "I'm always going to be the bad guy for killing Kronos."

"No, you did what you had to do," Joe said, "However Kronos was not the first guy who went crazy that you wound up killing. Think about it, Mac, if Methos stayed with him for two thousand years, he must have had a reason. Kronos couldn't possibly have originated as you remember him."

"He didn't," Richie said.

Richie turned his head to see if anybody was standing near him because he could've sworn...though it sounded ridiculous, he could've sworn he felt somebody squeeze his shoulder and kiss him, but he didn't see anybody.

"Maybe Methos will be able to explain it when he comes back," Duncan said.

"_Is_ he coming back?" Richie asked.

"Of course he is," Duncan said, "Especially if what the postcard says is true. Methos hates the water."

"I hope so," Richie said, "I miss him."

"Me too," Joe replied, "He may be a pain in the ass, but he's still our friend."

Duncan turned to Richie and said, "I have to be going now, I'll see you later."

"Okay, Mac."

Richie waited until Duncan was gone to ask Joe what was the matter with him.

"What're you talking about?" Joe asked.

"For almost a week now, Mac's been acting strange," Richie explained, "It started the day after Methos and Jezebel left. I went over the next day to see him and he looked terrible, he looked like death."

"Good thing Methos isn't here to hear that," Joe said.

"Joe, I don't know what's the matter with him but he's acting strange, like every time he turns around he's expecting somebody to pounce or something. I don't know what to do."

"Doesn't sound like MacLeod," Joe agreed, "However this whole ordeal with Kronos' widow has got him a bit worried, he's probably still on edge about that. She may be hundreds of miles away, however Methos can't keep watch on her 24/7 and we all know that. If she were to find out Mac killed Kronos instead of Methos, who's to say what she'd a mind to do then?"

"Yeah," Richie grimly replied, "I don't know what it is, but I'm worried."

Just then, icy chills went up Richie's back as he felt something again. He turned around and again saw nothing, but he felt as if somebody had grabbed his shoulder again.

"What is it?" Joe asked.

"Nothing," Richie said, "I better get going too, I'll see you later, Joe."

"Later."

"Well I'd say that went rather well," Kronos said.

He stood at the bar, not as much as three feet away from Joe, but the Watcher was completely unaware of Kronos' unwanted presence.

"You can't hear me either," Kronos said as he picked up a shot glass of bourbon, "Maybe I'll decide later I don't like that. Maybe I'll have a mind to tell you something that I _really_ think about you and my brother. But for now I'm just going to be the invisible fly on the wall…and I'm also going to be the dreaded bo-gey man that goes bump in the day and night." He downed the shot and added, "And I'm also going to find out how to put a permanent bump in the back of that swollen head of MacLeod's. I may be dead and buried in some God forsaken boneyard but damn if I'm going to act like it and go peacefully."


	7. Chapter 7

Time seemed to pass rather slowly after that. The days came and they went and again it was with no word from Methos. For a while, his friends began to worry about his wellbeing, then after a couple more weeks had passed, another postcard arrived. The difference between this one and the last was that this one had been custom made. On the front was a picture of the house that Jezebel had inherited, a large house on an even larger piece of property, a bit unconventional for one person to live in but by no means a white elephant. On the back of the card, Methos explained that things had gone just fine and their case with the probate court was finally over, however he still wouldn't be home anytime soon.

The reason he gave was not so much the whole truth as a simple way to pacify matters. He said that Jezebel needed some company and assistance in breaking in a 'lived in' feeling to the house. In truth, it would be hard to do that with a house that was three stories tall with nearly fifty rooms, and about a hundred storage rooms that held God only knew what. What more, Kronos had drawn out directions for Jezebel to find the money buried somewhere on the property, but Methos wasn't sure that was all that they would find buried there.

"It almost looks like I've inherited the Amazon," Jezebel told him, "There's so many trees around here, and they're so big, a person could get lost around here."

"Fifty acres you could _very well_ get lost in," Methos said, "It's just too bad Kronos didn't draw up a map of the property and just to find the money."

"Which reminds me, when are we going to look for that?" she asked.

"Tomorrow, today we've got to figure out about the house," he told her.

"You don't suppose he left any bodies in there do you?" she asked.

"No, I wouldn't think so."

"Still, this is Kronos we're talking about, you never know."

"Good point," Methos replied.

All of a sudden Methos got a very dreaded feeling about what they'd find when they came to the basement.

They walked up the steps to the front door, no keys had ever been found for the house, but clearly that wouldn't be a problem, as the hole in the door's window seemed to prove. Jezebel reached in and unbolted the door from the inside and pushed it open, they walked into a very large and very dark hallway. Every step they took boomingly echoed along the corridor, the staircase leading up to the second floor was made in ridiculously large steps, much too large to simply run up or down. If a person weren't careful going either way, they could slip and break their neck.

"This is probably one of the safest houses in the world from burglars," Jezebel said, "Make one wrong move in here and the house will do you in before the owner can."

"That seemed to be the way Kronos liked it, that no outsider stood a chance."

"You think _he_ built this place?" she asked.

Well, I'm only throwing knives in the dark but I'd say when this house was originally built, was well over a hundred years ago, he might have…for all we know he's had this place standing here since the beginning of the Oregon Territory."

"Could be, some of the oldest houses still standing, you wouldn't know them from their original build…I wouldn't put it past Kronos."

"I learned to never put anything past Kronos," Methos said, "He was always on top of things."

"Not always," Jezebel replied, "Not since last February."

Neither said anything for a moment after that. Methos wasn't sure what to say. He knew Jezebel was not a woman easily injured by words, however he was walking a tightrope right now and he didn't feel like saying anything that would get his head bitten off.

"I'm sorry, Jezebel."

"Don't be, life is too short for apologies so I just take everything as it is and move on, no hard feelings."

Methos laughed, he tried to catch himself before it came out but he failed. "Jezebel, just how in the _hell_ do you manage to stay positive all the time?"

"If there's one thing people need to learn it's to not take everything so personally. The whole world isn't going to enjoy your company, in fact a good majority of the population would be only too happy to see you pushing up daisies, no matter who or what you are, if you're as common as a paperclip or if you stick out like a sore thumb. Enemies are an example of character, what more, there's more character in a person who is honest and hurtful, than someone who lies to be admired. Words aren't ever just that, they shouldn't mean so much to us but they do, they hurt us, sometimes they kill us, and other times they give us a reason for living again. To some people, words are just that, words, and little else…I am not either sort of person but I take half of everything said to me as worthy of remembering, and I consider only half of what I say to be worth listening to. You just have to learn when not to pay too much attention to them. Now come here."

"What?" Methos asked.

"I said come here."

He didn't know why she wanted him to, but in two steps he was next to her.

"Now what?" he asked.

She grabbed him by the shoulders and said, "Now kiss me, you fool."

They both laughed for a moment but then Jezebel took a step back and almost bashed into the table.

"Are you allright?" Methos asked.

"Yeah, let's find the kitchen and see if we'll be able to fix anything today," she said.

"We should, the power and water were turned on this morning," Methos told her.

They crossed through the dining room, with Jezebel taking a detour over to the windows to bring up the shades and let the sun in, over to the kitchen, again she pulled up every shade she came across.

"I wonder just what Kronos had anticipated with this house," Methos said, "This is not the sort of place one man lives in for years."

"Who's to say? He was married after I was, maybe it was for one of his wives, and if she was one with children, that would make sense, wouldn't it?" Jezebel asked.

"I suppose so."

Jezebel went over to the stove and turned one of the knobs for the front burner, it clicked a couple of times and then a large blue flame shot out.

"That's a good thing to remember," she said, "Never stand next to this thing when turning it on…Methos?"

"What?"

"When do you suppose the last time was that Kronos was here?" Jezebel asked.

"Hard to say, by the looks of the place, I'd guess a few years," Methos said.

"Or maybe a few months?"

"It's possible."

Jezebel went over to the cupboards and opened them, oddly enough they were clean for the house being empty so long.

"How far away did you say we were from town?" she asked.

"About a mile."

"Fine, let's go get something for lunch. After that we can get to work cleaning the house and finding out what's underneath all those sheets in the living room."

"Right behind you," Methos called.

* * *

So far the day seemed to be going well for them, however when they reached town, no sooner had they gotten out of the car, they felt another Immortal nearby. Methos didn't have to say a word for Jezebel to know he was worried.

"There's a church across the road, go there and wait for me," she said.

"What?"

"Just do it," she said, "I'll be along soon."

He knew it wouldn't do any good to disagree, so he took off. Jezebel got out her sword and awaited the arrival of the unwanted company. She turned a corner and came face to face with…

"Richie!"

She dropped her sword and threw her arms around the boy. "Oh my God, Richie, what're you doing here? You shouldn't be here," she told him.

"I had to come, where's Methos?" he asked.

Jezebel could tell that something was the matter, Richie was in a near panic.

"He's at the church, what's the matter?"

"There's somebody coming down this way who I don't think you want to meet, she…"

"Cassandra?"

"You met her?"

"Not yet."

How did you know then?" Richie asked.

"Methos can be a real songbird when he wants to be," she replied.

"Well we found out that she's on her way here," Richie explained, "We couldn't reach you so I came down to try and beat her here."

No sooner had those words left his mouth, they felt another Immortal presence nearby.

"Oh my God," Richie said.

Jezebel knew it wasn't Methos. She started pushing Richie, "Go to the church and keep Methos company, but don't tell him anything. If he asks why you're here, tell him you wanted to see the house, I'll be along soon."

"I don't get it, but allright."

As he ran up to the church, Jezebel picked up her sword and cautiously made her way along. She turned another corner and her blade met with that of another woman's.

This was the sort of scenario that only happened in movies, Jezebel knew without having met before, just who she was looking at. The woman matched near her own height, her hair long and dark, her face painted ghastly with metallic blue over her eyes and a dark purple along her mouth. She overall looked the part of a frigid bitch and Jezebel knew that this was Cassandra.

"Something I can do for you?" Jezebel asked.

Cassandra lowered her blade when she saw it wasn't Methos. "I'm looking for a man."

"Aren't we all?" Jezebel asked.

"His name is Methos," Cassandra bitterly replied, as if the name left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Well he ain't here," Jezebel told her, "What's he to you?"

"Everything, my sanity."

Jezebel smiled grimly and shook her head, "Sister, you lost that a long time ago."

"Who are you?" Jezebel asked.

"Me? I'm nobody, just Death's estranged sister-in-law."

That was not an answer Cassandra was expecting.

"What!?"

Cassandra was so absorbed into the shock of those words that she didn't have time to react as Jezebel bunted her in the forehead with the hilt of her sword and knocked her out. Then she picked up both their swords and tossed them away, and she dragged Cassandra's body off to a graveyard two blocks down the road. She tossed Cassandra on the ground and waited for her to wake up. If she tried anything funny she would be in for a rude surprise because Jezebel had, without Methos' knowledge, stolen his gun from his pocket earlier that day, and she knew how to use it.

* * *

A few minutes later, Cassandra came to, her face a mask of shock and anger and confusion. Oh, Jezebel thought, this was going to be fun.

"What do you want with my brother-in-law? His head? The only way you're going to get to that, is going to be to kill me first," Jezebel told her.

"If you had any idea what that bastard did to me," Cassandra said.

"Oh I bet I can imagine," Jezebel replied smugly, "The world was different back then, the rules were different, you did what you had to in order to survive, even the mightiest people in the world of our time lived by that rule. That's why the kings and pharaohs had so many people killed, so the peasants couldn't get to them first. We lived by those rules, all of us."

Cassandra shook her head, "Not me."

"So why are you doing it now?" Jezebel asked, "You want to kill Methos for something done to you during the age when the world feared the dark of the night, and thought the sun wouldn't rise to see another day. Why do you want to kill him? Because you're mad. Mad at him, mad at the world, even mad at yourself. You're mad at yourself for ever loving him."

"I never loved him," Cassandra sneered, "I could never love that pathetic excuse for a man."

"Stop while you're behind, deary, you're starting to look like a woodpecker, no, a pelican. You loved Methos, don't pretend you didn't…that's why you're so angry at him, because he didn't protect you from his brother, and you thought he would. _Why_ would you ever believe a man who killed you in the first place?"

"I did what I had to because he forced me."

"At first, yes, but not by the end of it," Jezebel said, "And it really wasn't that long either…you probably weren't in that camp any longer than as long as Kronos has been dead."

That was the word Cassandra had never wanted to hear again.

"You see, it's not solely Methos that you're angry at, but my husband too, Lord rest his soul…if it weren't for Kronos, you wouldn't want Methos dead…well deary I'd say you've got a lot to learn about the ties that bind a family, they're a lot stronger than any lover. Now…I was married to Kronos for over 4,000 years, I'd like to think that by some reasoning, that qualifies me as family…we never divorced, I was as good to Methos as any sister that fate could have dealt him. Now he's my responsibility."

Cassandra laughed once. "So now he's hiding behind you for protection? That bastard, he's a coward, he'll hide behind anybody."

"He's not hiding behind anybody," Jezebel firmly replied, "He admits to his mistakes and he's paid for them already with his life because he can never fully enjoy his life because though he may claim to not have felt any guilt since the 11th century, I see it everyday in his eyes that he hates himself for what he's done. What was done to you was done so 3,000 years ago…3,000 years ago I might add, you killed my husband, I could take your head here and now for that. _You're_ the reason Kronos died, not Methos, so why shouldn't I kill you for that?"

"Go ahead and try," Cassandra spat.

Jezebel grabbed Cassandra and pulled her to her feet, keeping one hand locked around Cassandra's throat, with the other hand, Jezebel beat her across the face and threw her back to the ground.

"I think not," Jezebel said, "You clearly want to die so this will end…well I'm not going to do anything to make you happy."

Cassandra got back to her feet and she looked ready to kill. "If you think I'm going to let that bastard live after what he did to me!"

"That's enough, Cassandra!" Jezebel seemed to snap, her voice was as sharp as a thousand razors and her voice boomed like thunder, "You sit down and SHUT UP! You've done enough talking to last till the turn of the century, now if you don't have the common sense to move on with your life, then you shut up while I have my say, and if you don't like it you can just drop dead for all I care, but I sure as hell am not going to be the one that does it. You're not on common ground anymore, and what more _you_ don't have some fool like that infantile anal retentive Highland bastard to hide behind to do your dirty work. You hid behind him so he would kill _your_ student because you didn't have the guts to do it, even though it was _your_ responsibility, why do you think teachers always kill the students? It's that or the student kills the teacher, it's gotta be one or the other. You hid behind MacLeod so he would kill Roland and you hid behind him again so he would kill Kronos and Methos. Well he's not here for you to hide behind anymore.

"No matter _what_ Methos has done in his life, he's still a human being, he loves, he hurts, he dies, just like any one of us. He may have _killed_ 10,000 but if there's one thing I know how to do in this world it's how to make somebody _suffer_. That's exactly what I'm going to do with you, you frigid bitch, you're not a person or a creature I have any sympathy for. So he killed your people, my own people would've killed me, so you were raped, so was Methos, more times than you ever were, so was Kronos, so were they all. So you were a slave, we _all_ did 4,000 years ago what we _needed_ to in order to survive. If you hated what he did to you so much, why didn't you just kill yourself? Or force him to kill you? You may be happy that Kronos is dead, no matter what he did either, he was still my husband and I loved him and I loved him for longer than you've been alive. And I found out that Methos, my brother-in-law, the man I always trusted, I find out _he_ killed Kronos, his brother for over 4,000 years…do you think that makes me happy? I don't like being a widow, and I don't like that Kronos died before I could tell him goodbye, but if there's one thing I'm _not_ going to do it's make Methos suffer for what's been done. He's been hurt enough already. You loved him once upon a time ago, well that was mutual, he loved you but he couldn't stop Kronos from taking you because Kronos would've killed you then and there if Methos tried to stop him…oh no he wouldn't have bothered throwing you to Caspian, but your head would've been in his collection before the sun went under that day."

Jezebel stopped and covered her mouth as she realized what she had just said. All those things she'd said, MacLeod, Roland, the 10,000 people, Kronos, Caspian…she felt she'd become a woman possessed. A horrible sense of terror ran through her as she realized she had said all this without ever having any knowledge to these events. They had just come out of nowhere, it was as if somebody else had been in control of what she said…or maybe rather, in control of what she _knew_.

She could tell that her words had terrified Cassandra also, maybe as much as the shock of having said them scared herself. But she didn't care, right now Jezebel was feeling too angry for the fear to win through. She just hoped that whatever she said next, it was what _she_ intended to say.

"You sorry bitch," she said, "You're not the reason my husband was killed, but you are the reason Methos was the one to do it."

"Is that what he told you?" Cassandra asked smugly as she got up, "Well he didn't kill Kronos, MacLeod did! Oh Methos is good at that, tricking other people to do what he wants, so he didn't have to do the job himself."

Jezebel hit Cassandra with the muzzle of the gun and caused her to fall down again, Jezebel kept the gun pointed at her.

"I don't believe you," she said, "And even if it is true, Methos was still the one behind it all, _not_ MacLeod, a self righteous son of a bitch like that would _never_ have the brains to pull that off by himself."

More or less how she felt about the situation but still it was as if someone else was deciding the words she said. Jezebel almost laughed…if it weren't for her fear she was going crazy, she'd be having fun with this.

"I know what they did, and anything Kronos and Methos did or didn't do, that'll be on _my_ conscience, not theirs…if you _ever_ come for Methos again, I'll kill you and I can promise you you'll wish you had died back in the Bronze Age. I'm not going to say that Methos was a good man all his life, nobody ever is. Mankind if prone to evil, it's the only species that is, we rape, we murder, we take what we want and if we can't have it nobody else can either. When such happens, there's only three things for man to do, repent of what they did, forgive those that did unto them, and move on with life. You should try it sometime, spending your entire life waiting to either kill or be killed, is no way to go through life, not even ours."

The entire time she spoke, her finger never left the trigger of the gun. "Now, I love Methos very much, and if I have to I can very well see him through the grieving process of losing you. But if it comes to my way, you'll be dead and buried and he'll never know. But death is too easy for you…you're not a smart woman, that much is obvious, but if you know what's good for you, you'll leave town, you'll stay away from here _and_ Seacouver and never return. Because if I get word that you're anywhere near my brother-in-law again, I'll hunt you down and kill you myself. Now get up."

Cassandra got to her feet, Jezebel wasn't sure just what she would try. She remembered what Methos said about her making people do as she said, but Jezebel honestly didn't think Cassandra would be stupid enough to try that now.

"Now get the hell out of here and don't come back, you witch," Jezebel demanded.

Still she counted on Cassandra to attempt something in retaliation, so Jezebel was careful in watching Cassandra's every move as they left the cemetery.

* * *

After getting rid of Cassandra, Jezebel headed back to the church and found, much to her amusement, Methos and Richie in one of the back pews, Richie asleep and using Methos' lap as a pillow.

"Is he allright?" Jezebel asked.

"Just tired," Methos said, "What's happened?"

"Everything's fine, don't worry, nobody died," Jezebel told him, "Now wake the kid up and let's get out of here."

"Well who was it?" Methos asked.

"Nobody, it wasn't anything to worry about," Jezebel said as she shook Richie's shoulder, "Come on, Richie, wake up."

Richie woke up and seemed to be in a daze. "W-what happened? What's going on?"

"Nothing, it's over, now let's go."

Richie picked up his helmet as he got up and they followed Jezebel out of the church.

"Richie," she said, "Methos and I were just picking up some groceries for lunch, when we're through would you like to come back with us to see the house?"

"Well…"

Jezebel kicked him.

"Ow! Uh yeah…sure…why not?"

"Oh good, I was hoping you'd see it our way."

Methos went on ahead and Richie grabbed Jezebel by her jacket collar and muttered, "What happened?"

She muttered in response, "Cassandra's taking a little trip down to Scotland for a while."

"But what if she comes back?" Richie asked.

She looked him dead in the eyes and replied, "She won't come back."

It was then that Jezebel noticed the rings under his eyes that said he hadn't slept lately. "You poor thing, you exhausted yourself trying to get here on time…come stay with us for a while and rest…we haven't uncovered the furniture yet but I'm sure we can find a place to make you at home."

Richie didn't answer, he just followed them.

* * *

When they returned to the house, the first thing they did was clear the sheets off the kitchen table and the chairs. Jezebel had Richie sit down and rest while they started on lunch.

"Big place you got here," Richie noted, "Isn't it going to get kinda lonely when Methos leaves?"

"Hard to say," she replied, "Over the centuries, I guess I've gotten used to being by myself…oh well, if it ever does get lonely I'll just go back and visit Methos at his claustrophobic-inducing rat hole he calls an apartment."

"Well I and the rats will be happy to have you," Methos cynically replied.

Jezebel found a large pot in one of the bottom cupboards and filled it with water and put it on the stove. While she waited for the water to boil she took a bag of Brussels sprouts and started chopping off the bottoms and peeling off the outer leaves.

"I don't mind telling you," Methos told her, "As large as this house is I don't think we'll even get through the entirety of _it_ before the end of today."

Jezebel looked back to the table and nudged Methos, "Shh, the baby's asleep."

Methos looked back as well and saw that Richie had fallen asleep at the table.

"Jezebel," he whispered, "What _really_ happened earlier?"

"Nothing you need to worry your 'purty little head over," she replied, "Let it go."

"You know I would if I thought you _weren't_ up to something again," he told her.

Jezebel picked up a bag of potatoes and passed them to Methos, "Be quiet and start peeling these."

* * *

After lunch the three of them set to work uncovering the furniture to see what there was and if the termites had gotten to the bulk of it yet. Jezebel opened the windows so that when the sheets were lifted and the dust went flying, it would go somewhere else than down their throats. In the living room they uncovered one very old couch, two century old chairs, a half century old solid steel table, one very large and poorly varnished trunk with three locks rusted, and in Jezebel's opinion, one very ugly tapestry with a design that looked like a royalty insignia from several hundred years ago.

Jezebel looked over to the fireplace and said, "If we can't get any wood for the fire tonight we can very easily torch this oversized map."

Methos, curiosity getting to the better of him, started prying at the top of the trunk to try and open it. The rusted locks cut into his hands but he pursued and succeeded in breaking them apart and lifting the top.

"What's in it?" Richie asked.

Methos picked up an old military jacket that was plastered with badges, and a large stab hole in the breast pocket. Clearly it was a war trophy from a less than worthy opponent. He tossed that aside and picked up two old wine bottles. The names and vintages had long ago worn off, but there was still something inside them. He opened one of the bottles and took a drink and came to an immediate conclusion, "Elderberry wine."

"Great minds," Jezebel said, "That's what that is, I made that stuff all the time during Prohibition."

Methos reached into the trunk again and took out a couple of old revolvers that time seemed to have gotten the better of. Then he took out a large knife, twelve inches of Korean surgical steel and relatively new, no blood marks. Putting that aside he reached in and pulled out something else, a very old, very large tintype portrait, without a word, he passed it to Richie, who saw it once and passed it to Jezebel.

The frame was brittle, the picture was yellowed, but the picture stayed as new to Jezebel as the day it was made. In the picture, she and Kronos stood side by side, the day she remembered was July 21st, 1881, the time was roughly around 3 o' clock in the afternoon. She set the tintype on the table and asked what else was in the trunk.

"There's not much else in here except for a couple boxes of bullets and a few more bottles of wine," Methos replied.

"Well it's a start," she said, "There's still the rest of the house to cover." She turned to Richie and said, "If you'd like to stay I'm sure we can get a room fixed up."

"Thanks but I better get back on the road if I'm going to get back before dark," Richie replied, "Thanks for having me."

"Any time my good man," she assured him, "Any time."

Jezebel showed Richie out and after she closed the door, she returned to the living room with, "That kid sure looks like a wreck. What do you think's gotten into him?"

"Who's to say?" Methos asked as he closed the trunk and got up, "Now that the baby's gone, do you mind telling me just _what_ happened today?"

"You're not going to let it go, are you?" Jezebel asked.

"Nope."

"Okay, I'll tell you," Jezebel said, "I ran into Richie and as he was explaining why he was here, I saw a man, it looked like the prosecuting attorney from the last time I was on trial for murder."

"How long ago was that?" Methos asked.

"About five years ago…I couldn't tell if it really was him or not but I hid until he was gone, and the bastard just wouldn't leave, I don't know what he was doing just standing around there but it took forever for him to leave. I didn't want to tell you because I know I've worked your last nerve with my paranoia, and things have been going so well these last couple of weeks, I just didn't want to ruin it."

"Oh Jezebel…"

"I'm sorry…but now you know why I didn't want to tell you."

Jezebel put on her best act of walking on eggshells, just waiting for the breaking point. It was a time old trick that jerked the heartstrings of any sucker born a male. Cassandra had her tricks for getting a gullible man, Jezebel had her own. Methos took her in his arms and assured her that everything was allright and she had nothing to worry about. Jezebel smiled though she wouldn't let him see. Psychological warfare was something that both she and Kronos were experts at in their day, before there was a name for it. She led Methos to believe that he was and must play the strong, protective, reassuring role, when it was actually the other way around. She let him believe a simple lie, it upset him a bit however he was happy to be the strong, reliable friend, when in fact she was protecting him from an even worse upsetting experience. If there was one thing that her husband had been able to teach her while they were together, it was how to put on an act, and damn she was good.

Pulling herself out of Methos' arms, she said, "Come on, let's see what else my dear boob of a husband left for me in this mausoleum."


	8. Chapter 8

Methos and Jezebel collapsed on the opposite sides of the bed in the master bedroom, both exhausted and completely filthy. They'd spent the rest of the afternoon uncovering the furniture on the first floor and finding an unbelievable collection of things that Kronos had hoarded away over the years. Then they had started on the second floor and only covered half of it.

"What time is it?" Jezebel asked.

"I don't know, I don't have my watch," Methos replied.

They both heard a loud chime and they about shot out of the bed. The grandfather clock down the hall struck the hour, five o' clock.

"We'll have to start on dinner soon," he said.

"Fine, you fix dinner, I'll wash the sheets," Jezebel replied, "However before either of us touches either thing, I think we're a bit overdue for a bath."

Methos looked at Jezebel's face covered in soot and smudges and he knew he didn't look any better, and he laughed. "I think you're right."

They both got up from the bed, Jezebel headed over to the closet and opened it up to see what was in it, and she was surprised.

"Who do you think these belonged to?" she asked.

Methos got up beside her and saw what she saw, nearly two dozen old dresses, all from a different point in time.

"Looks like he'd been planning this for a while," Methos said.

Jezebel took one down and looked at it. Time hadn't gotten the better of it and clearly neither had the moths. It wasn't particularly old, only about 50 years and very well preserved.

"Pretty fancy ain't it?" Jezebel asked, "These had to have been for one of his later wives."

"Well they're yours now," Methos said.

"A relief, I've been wearing the same clothes for so long, pretty soon they'll be able to stand up on their own," she replied, "Well, now to see if the plumbing in the bathroom is any good, otherwise those rain barrels out back are going to get quite a thrill."

* * *

After they had gotten cleaned up, the bed sheets had been hung out to dry, and after dinner, then they started onto one part of the house that Methos was least anxious to investigate, the basement.

Turning on an overhead light, they slowly headed down a very narrow staircase down to the first room of the basement. Right off the bat Methos was relieved to find no bodies put down there, of course that didn't mean there weren't any around. Jezebel sauntered over to the wine rack and got a look at the bottles, nothing younger than 70 years, and it spread from wine to whiskey to scotch to vodka.

Methos' attention however went straight to all the old trunks and crates that cluttered up the opposite end of the room.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Methos nodded, "Let's just find out what's down here."

They went over to one of the first trunks in sight and opened it up and both were surprised at what they found.

"Chain mail armor," Methos said as he pulled it out.

Jezebel reached in and pulled out a spiked mace and an old set of cast iron shackles, "My he was quite a pack rat, wasn't he? Do you think they were his?"

"No," Methos replied, "He took them as a winning. That's how Kronos got most everything he had, what he couldn't have, he took, and that was quite often."

"So where do you think the money came from that's buried on the property?" she asked.

"We'll probably never know that."

"Does it even matter?" Jezebel asked.

Methos thought about it a minute, "Not anymore."

There was a moment of silence between them, finally Jezebel was the one to break the silence.

"I'm glad you're here, Methos, I don't know what I'd do without you," she said.

"We can guess," he replied.

"Methos?"

"What?"

There was another moment of silence, before Jezebel threw her arms around Methos' neck and said, "I love you."

"I love you too, I'm also glad you're taking all of this so well," he said.

They closed that trunk and started to work on another one. The first thing Jezebel took out took them both by surprise.

"A Bible?" she asked, "I'll be."

She started to open the Bible but found it to be unusually heavy, it fell open in the middle and out fell a pistol.

"Now it makes sense," Jezebel said.

Methos took the Bible and looked it over, half of it had been hollowed out to hide the gun.

"Strange," he said.

"Well you know, some people put whiskey in the backs of their Bibles," Jezebel said.

"That's just it," Methos said, "Kronos hollowed out the front half."

"Why'd he do that?" she asked.

Methos flipped it to the last section and smirked in spite of himself, "To leave Revelations intact would be my guess."

Jezebel picked up the gun and looked it over. "You don't suppose he left it loaded, do you?"

"After all these years?" Methos asked, "I highly doubt it."

Jezebel cocked back the hammer and pressed the trigger and a shot rang out, and both felt their hearts go to their throats.

"Shit!" Jezebel nervously laughed, "I guess he left behind more surprises than we thought."

"Are you okay?" Methos asked.

"I'm fine but we better step back, that wall might cave in at a moment's notice," Jezebel laughed.

They both took a step back and looked at each other and laughed harder than they had in a long while, in fact both slowly sank to the floor with their arms around one another and laughed until they were crying.

"Methos," Jezebel said over her laughing, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he replied, "and you?"

Jezebel hit her head against the floor as she laughed, "Never better."

After a few more minutes, both seemed to finally calm down and they got back up.

"Give me that thing," Methos said.

Jezebel picked up the gun and handed it to him. He opened the chamber and dumped out the rest of the bullets.

"You ready to check out the rest of the stuff?" Jezebel asked.

"Sure."

Looking into the trunk again, they found another ugly tapestry, this one with a coat of arms on it, tossing that away they also found a set of steel gauntlets, an old ship's bell, a very large hourglass, an old brass compass, a gold pocket watch on its chain but missing the top piece, and then reaching down to the bottom...

"What's this?" Methos asked as he took out a couple of old pieces of metal.

Jezebel took one of them and was able to identify them. "Old roller skates!" she laughed, "But the wheels have been worn off."

"Go figure," Methos said.

Methos reached in again and took out a set of dice and a deck of cards, but they were all the ace of spades.

"The death card," Jezebel said, "Ironic."

"That's Kronos, he just dripped with irony," Methos replied.

"It's funny, even considering all the stuff he took in the raids, I never took Kronos for being much of a hoarder," she told him.

"I think that was our mistake," Methos said, "We underestimated him."

"Just as well, he underestimated us, and now he's dead, and we're here sorting through all the things he's collected probably since the Middle Ages."

As the night progressed, they went through a good amount of everything in the basement, they came across a bunch of things, some fancy, some ridiculous, some worth more than they appeared, and some that weren't worth a thing. At the end of their little search and seizure they were both scratching their heads at why in the hell Kronos would ever keep any of what he did.

* * *

When the clock struck 11 they decided to give it up for the night and start again in the morning. Jezebel opened one of the wine bottles and poured them each a glass.

"Are we drinking to anything in particular?" Methos asked, "Or is this just a mood?"

"Finality and closure, I understand, are always things worth drinking to."

"But do you think it's at that point yet, of finality?" Methos asked.

For a brief moment, the sparkle in Jezebel's eyes seemed to fade. "No," she replied, "Not yet, but soon."

They clinked their goblets and drank and then Jezebel seemed to get another idea. "That old player piano in the dining room, do you think it still works?"

"I would imagine so," Methos said.

"Well then," she said, "Let's have a song, something we can dance to."

They picked up their glasses, and the bottle and went into the dining room, Methos put a roll of music paper into the piano and started it up. The song wasn't identifiable to either of them, but it was a lively tune, perfectly suitable for dancing they decided. When it occurred to Jezebel that they were going around in a circle, she said, "Spend much time in the ballrooms?"

"No, not much," Methos replied.

"You'd never know," she said.

"Jezebel?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you sorry at all that we did this?" Methos asked.

She thought about it for a minute, then she answered, "No, I'm not sorry we came out here. This has been the best time of my life for a hundred years," she told him, "I'm glad you came, though, that's what makes it all worth it, having you here."

Time passed, the room spun around, the drinks became more frequent, and then after what seemed like eternity, the music stopped, the bottle was empty and both were as woozy as a seasick Coast Guard on a runaway cutter.

The grandfather clock upstairs struck midnight, which seemed to break the trance.

"I guess it's time we turned in," Jezebel giddily said.

"Suppose so," Methos replied, "I know you'll be dragging me out of bed at the crack of dawn to go exploring the grounds."

Each with an arm draped over the other they headed up the stairs to the master bedroom.

* * *

The first thing Jezebel noticed was that the room was as black as it could get. The next thing she noticed was that her breathing was normal. The third thing she noticed was that she was wide awake and completely sober. She heard the calm breathing on the other side of the bed and she knew without turning over that it was Methos. Turning instead on her other side she looked over at the clock and saw that it was going on 1 in the morning. She tried to think, what was the matter? The day and the night had gone very well, so why did she have a horrible feeling in her stomach that something was the matter?

Laying back down, she tried to go to sleep, but it was futile. She lay where she was and closed her eyes and waited for something to happen. She hoped she could fall asleep, but it didn't happen, instead her memory started back 90 years and she remembered in full details, the events of one particular night.

* * *

Jezebel cursed the man who ever came up with the idea of corsets, and she knew it was a man because only a man would be dumb enough to make women's clothing that needed two people to take it off. When she finished cursing that man, she cursed anything and everything that came to mind. She'd had yet another fight with her husband and was in no mood to be pleasant company to anybody.

She felt his presence before she ever heard him coming, she knew he was behind her, and he came closer and closer until he grabbed her by the back of her corset.

"Here, let me help you with that," he said.

"I don't know why they have to make these things that you need four hands for them," Jezebel said.

"Are you allright?" he asked.

"I'll be fine when I get out of this harness," she told him, "It's too tight and it's cutting into my back, and I didn't even know that was possible."

She felt the lace straps move off her back and suddenly she could breathe again.

"There you are," he told her.

She stepped out of the damned thing and left it on the floor while she headed to the bath. He followed her, never saying a word, but she knew that there was something on his mind, and she knew she had best get it over with.

"Are you still mad at me?" she asked.

"I was never mad at you," Kronos insisted, "Are you mad at me?"

"A little," Jezebel replied as she stepped into the tub. She hissed as she sank in, the red indentions in her back hadn't healed yet and the hot water made them sting like acid. "Though," she added, "I suppose it's easier for me to be mad at you than mad at myself."

For a few minutes, neither said a word, Jezebel wouldn't look at Kronos, it was the only way that she could keep up her act of being brave about this. Finally she broke when she said, "Kronos…it's over, isn't it?"

She felt his hand on her shoulder, and before he even said anything, she knew it was the truth.

"I'm afraid so, dear…we just can't seem to go through a day together without getting at each other's throats."

"I was afraid of that," Jezebel said, "I'm sorry, Kronos."

"What've you got to be sorry for?" he asked, "You're not to blame for this. It's nothing you did, it's nothing I did, it just…it just happened somehow."

"Age old story for divorce," Jezebel said.

"Divorce?" Kronos repeated.

"Don't misunderstand," she said, "I still love you."

"That's good, I still love you too, it just seems that we can't live together anymore," Kronos said.

"Maybe that's why so many Immortal couples kill each other," she thought, "Mortals get tired of living with each other after 10 or 20 years, we've spent 40 years together this time, completely undisturbed."

"Yes, however I don't think divorce is in order," Kronos said.

"You have another idea?" she asked.

"I do…if my memory serves, it's what they call separation."

"I get it," Jezebel said, "That's like divorce except it's never final."

"And in some cases, they come back together," Kronos further explained.

"You think that could happen with us?" she asked.

"Could be," he said, "We still love each other, we just can't stand being around each other anymore. So I suggest we take a little time off from one another, a hundred years or so, then we meet again."

She slowly nodded, "I guess so."

It was agreed that Kronos would leave in the morning. Jezebel got out of the tub, into her nightgown and they went to sleep. Jezebel went to sleep three hours after Kronos had, she spent that last night together in his arms, and somehow she knew it would never be again. She wanted to be angry with him for leaving her, but she knew that there was nothing else that could be done, they simply couldn't put up with each other anymore.

She woke up alone the next morning. The sun was just starting to rise and she knew he hadn't left yet, but she had better hurry before he did. She ran to the front door and found him loading up his horse.

"If you're going to walk out on me, Kronos," she said, "You can at least have the common decency to do it when I'm awake."

"Jezebel," he said, "Before I leave, will you do something for me? One last favor, tell me you love me, and nothing more."

"But Kronos," she said as she walked up to him, "What if I don't see you again?"

"You will," he replied, "I'll come back, Jezebel, you know that. We agreed last night that we'd spend 100 years apart and meet up again. So all I need to hear from you is that you love me, and then anything else can be said when we meet again."

"But Kronos," she tried to explain. She wanted to ask him, 'What if one of us _isn't_ still here in 100 years?' There was always that possibility, and though she knew they were both very well in fighting, there would always be somebody better.

Kronos took her in his arms and picked her up and kissed her. "My dear, you are the most important thing in the world to me, and nothing's going to stop me from returning to you, you understand?"

She didn't answer.

"Oh come now," Kronos said, "Let's not get all torn up over this. This isn't goodbye, Jezebel, you know that," he kissed her again, "Now just tell me what I need to hear you say, and I'll gladly be on my way out of town before the sun sets."

Right now Jezebel hated Kronos more than anything, she wanted to curse him, but she didn't dare, should it turn out to be the last thing she ever said to him.

"I love you, Kronos," she finally said.

He set her down and kissed her once more, "And I love you…which is why I should be leaving now, but don't you worry your pretty little head. No matter where you go in this world, I'll find you again when the time's right."

That had been their farewell, and that was the last time either saw the other alive again.

* * *

Jezebel's head throbbed as she poured a drink of water from the bathroom faucet. The lights were practically bright enough to blind her, and it was times like this she was very thankful she hadn't been born a cat.

Instead of sleep, the knot in her stomach had tightened and her head felt like it was about to burst. Methos was still asleep, thankfully, she wouldn't know how she would explain this to him if he found out. She drank half the glass of water and set it on the counter and waited for the feeling of everything spinning to stop before she opened her eyes again. She looked into the mirror and saw herself, she looked like hell. For some reason though, she managed to remain calm as she saw the second figure in the mirror looking back at her.

"This is it," she said, "I've lost my mind, haven't I?"

Kronos grinned, "If you had any idea how many times I've heard that since I died…"

He took a step towards her, she didn't move. He took another step towards her, she turned around.

"Well, it hasn't been a hundred years," Kronos said, "But I figured it was soon enough."

Jezebel said nothing, she just stared at him, as if she were expecting him to vanish.

"Hello, dear," he said.

"Hi," she weakly replied, "How'd you get here?"

"That's a long trip and a long story," he said, "I came to see you."

"You sure have some queer timing, you son of a bitch," Jezebel told him.

Kronos laughed, "And you still have that wonderful sense of humor."

"Not really," she replied, "Given the circumstances I'm just in a funny sort of mood tonight."

Jezebel sat down on the edge of the bathtub and Kronos sat down beside her.

"Look Jezebel, Methos isn't here right now, so tell me how you've been, and tell me the truth," he said.

"I've been better," she dully replied.

"I know this hasn't been easy for you," Kronos said.

"You got that right…Kronos, there's just one thing I want to know."

"What's that?"

"Is it true that Methos killed you?"

"From a point of view, yes you could say that," he replied, "Now, I don't want you being upset with him over it…if you'd been there at the time it happened you would've wanted me dead as well."

"…What's it like being dead?" she asked.

"Quiet, not _too_ bad for the time being," Kronos replied.

"I'm just sorry that this had to happen before we could see each other again," Jezebel said, "I had hoped I'd be able to tell you goodbye before it was too late."

Kronos laughed, "Sometimes people that think like you do, they just kill me." After a moment he managed to calm down and he started to explain, "Everybody figures once you're dead, it's too late to say anything, too late to make amends, too late to tell them you love them, too late to do anything…not necessarily. We still hear you, you just can't always hear us answer."

"Well that's good," Jezebel said, "I didn't want you to die thinking I hated you."

Kronos laughed again. "Why would I think that?"

He looked at Jezebel and she had a look on her face that could depress anybody.

"Oh come on now," he crooned, "Smile for me."

"This is my smile," she said, "Take it or leave it."

"What's the matter?"

Jezebel got up and moved away from him, "It all just feels surreal to me. I keep thinking that this isn't real, that it's a dream, and I'm going to wake up and you'll still be alive and you'll come back." She lowered her head, "But this isn't a dream, and you aren't coming back, you're dead…I don't want you thinking I hate you but I don't want you hating me either, Kronos."

"Jezebel, there's nothing in the world that you could do that would make me hate you."

"Oh no?" Jezebel asked, "I've tried to act like everything's allright, because I know Methos is still upset about you dying…I've also tried to act like a grieving widow because that's what I should be doing…but I can't do it, Kronos…it's not grief that I'm filled to the brim with, I'm angry, I'm angry at you, in fact I'd even go as far to say that I hate you…I _want_ to hate you, I want so much to stay angry at you for everything you did, what you did to me, to Methos, to everybody…but I can't stay angry at you, and it's the only thing I feel towards you anymore. I just don't know what I'm going to do anymore."

Kronos knew this was the breaking point. Though Jezebel was doing well to maintain her strong, coherent voice, while she wouldn't look at him, he could see the tears running down her face.

"Jezebel," he said, "Come here."

"No, I don't want to," she replied.

Kronos got up and went over to her, she made some small noise of surprise when he grabbed her, but she didn't try to fight him.

"Settle down, Jezebel…...that's another thing, everybody in this whole bloody world figures that when someone dies, you should be covered in black wearing a veil…and in some instances, barefoot…mourning for weeks and keeping away from every other living person. Now, it's not to say they're wrong, that's how some people see best to do it. However there is no _right_ way to mourn somebody. Some people cry, others celebrate the life, some people go on rampages and break everything in sight, others get drunk until the feeling passes."

"I tried that when I got the will," Jezebel said, "It didn't work."

"Jezebel, you can't expect to be feeling anything other than what you are right now, and I wouldn't want you to, it's not healthy. Grief is a slow acting poison, you die a little every day that it stays in you, and it's the worst when you try to ignore it. You have to get it out, any way you can, any way you know how that will work, if you're ever going to fully live again. So do whatever you want, scream, cry, damn me, bust open the walls, do whatever it is that you have to so you can heal from this. Now listen, I know you're angry at me, I gave you every right to be, you and Methos and plenty of others, I don't expect you to not hate me for what I put you through. But Jezebel, no matter what you do, or what you say, or how you feel towards me, I am _never_ going to stop loving you, understand?"

She nodded once, "Yes, Kronos."

"Good, now listen, Jezebel, I came here tonight because I owe you something, I have for a long time…you were right, the last time we were together…as you said before, I underestimated you…well, now I came to say goodbye."

"Oh Kronos…"

"Jezebel, when I was alive you made me a very happy man, I'm still happy because I have you to remember…and now, to watch over…but you were right, this is one part of your life that it's time to come to an end."

Kronos kissed Jezebel and then pulled away from her.

"However before I leave," he said as he reached into his pocket, "I believe you lost this."

* * *

Methos wasn't sure what it was that woke him. The clock hadn't struck the hour, and it was too dark outside to be morning, but something was the matter, he knew it, he just didn't know what.

Then he looked over to the other side of the bed and saw that Jezebel was gone, he tried to figure out where she was, and then he heard it. He wasn't exactly sure _what_ he heard but he knew it was coming from the bathroom, and it sounded like Jezebel was in trouble. He sprang out of bed and dashed over to the bathroom and went in and found Jezebel on the floor in the middle of the room. She had her hand clamped over her mouth to try and quiet herself, but now that she saw he was awake, she knew there was no point. Her sobs became howls and Methos went over to her and tried to pick her up and find out what was the matter, but she resisted.

As he tried to ask her what had happened, he saw something that made his heart stop for a second. On Jezebel's hand, her left hand, on her ring finger, was the same old band that she had pushed into the dirt of Kronos' gave.

Dear God, Methos thought. He knew what had happened, Kronos had said when the time was right, and he clearly decided this was the time.

Jezebel found her voice long enough to tearfully explain, "My husband's gone, he's _really_ gone…" before she started wailing again.

It broke the heart Methos didn't know he had, to see her like this. He grabbed Jezebel again and picked her up and took her back to the bedroom. She kicked and clawed and hollered in protest, but he wouldn't let go of her. By the time they reached the bedroom he was about ready to drop her, but he managed to keep enough intact with his senses to carefully lay her down back on her side of the bed. She was completely inconsolable and Methos could tell as much.

He didn't know what to do so he did the only thing he could think of doing. He held Jezebel in his arms and just let her wear herself out. This was the moment of truth when a lot of people made the mistake of thinking they could in some way be of help to the mourner. But there was basically nothing that could be done, no specific ritual, no right words, nothing could be done, except to let the mourner know that they were not alone, and could confide in their company if they ever felt the need to. Methos remembered all too well how he felt after he buried Kronos, all the pain, the grief, the mourning, it almost killed him…there was nothing that anybody could do, however had someone been with him when it happened, he felt it wouldn't have been so horrible.

She didn't try to fight him now, he doubted she had the strength anymore. Kronos had been right, she had put on to be much stronger than she really was. Oh, he would be the first to admit, she was always a strong person, but _nobody_ experienced the loss of a loved one with absolutely no grief. It wasn't unusual, a lot of people he had known, during times of loss, acted invincible but behind a very thin mask was everything they felt and wanted to say, but they didn't dare for some reason or other. As he held her through the night, as he counted the hours it took for her to finally calm down, one thought stayed persistent in his mind, no matter how she turned out after this, she would still be taking it better than he ever did. He remembered after Kronos died, all the time he spent out in the cemetery, wanting to die, then he remembered all the days that he swallowed enough pills to kill a horse. How long had that been? Three months spent in mourning? That sounded about right. And it was only about a month ago that he finally came out of it.

As the clock struck 4, Methos looked down at the figure who lay sleeping in his arms. The storm had passed, she had finally come to full terms with Kronos' death, and now that she had accepted the absolute facts, he knew she would be allright now. That was one thing she had over a lot of women he'd known, to Jezebel, pain and pleasure were equilibrium, no matter how many more days of one there were, the other as few and far between could weigh just as much when they chose to, and it was all part of life. You enjoyed the good parts, you fought like hell through the rough parts, you moved on and chalked it up to another part of life. Why, Methos wondered, hadn't Cassandra ever been able to figure that out?

_Because she was a fool. _

Methos opened his eyes and looked around to see who had said that. He saw nobody, and he knew Jezebel hadn't said it. He looked up, and he knew where that comment had come from. Before Methos went to sleep, he carefully lifted up Jezebel's left hand and tried to get another look at that ring. It was impossible to see in the dark but he felt over it and came to a few conclusions, one, it was far past an antique, two, it was bronze, three, it was smashed into something no more the shape of a ring band, and four, it was still razor sharp despite its age and wear. Why Kronos had brought that back he didn't know, but he had a feeling he would find out in the morning. With that last thought on his mind, he too slowly drifted off to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Methos awoke the next morning to the rays of sunlight coming in through the window. He woke up and found that Jezebel wasn't in bed, and he couldn't feel her nearby. But for some reason, he wasn't worried, even with a strong memory of how upset she was last night, he wasn't worried that something had happened. Then he heard something coming from directly below him on the first floor. She was down in the kitchen, so he decided to go down and join her and make sure that she was allright. He headed down the back stairs which led straight to the kitchen and there she was, standing over by the stove, still wearing her nightgown.

"Good morning, Methos, how're you feeling?" she asked.

"Fine, although I should be the one asking you that," he said.

"I'm allright…I got up early and thought I'd make breakfast, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all."

"Good...Methos, I want to apologize for last night, I…I feel like such a fool."

"There's no need to apologize, Jezebel," Methos told her, "I understand."

"No, I don't think you do," she replied, "When I got the will and found out Kronos had died, I was angry at him…and myself I think. I went from being angry, to being upset…and a few minutes later, I went from upset, to being numb. I downed two bottles of vodka and went to bed until the next Tuesday. When I woke up, I thought it was over, I felt allright, so then I went looking for you. But last night when I…" she laughed nervously, "You won't believe me."

"Oh try me, you might be surprised by what all I'd believe after 5,000 years," Methos said.

"I saw Kronos last night…I talked to him."

"And he gave you back your ring."

Jezebel stopped when she realized that he didn't think she was crazy. "…Yes, last night was just the undoing of me…I thought I was past grieving for him, but I guess I wasn't…I hope I am now…I don't want you to think this is something I do normally…I haven't mourned for anybody since Ruth died."

"Don't worry about it, after Kronos died I was far worse than you were last night."

"Somehow I find that hard to believe," Jezebel said.

"Oh no? After I buried him, I spent two months out in that cemetery, not more than three feet away from his tomb, then I spent another month in my apartment in bed for the whole month. I was so desperate for the pain to end I took all these bottles of pills that I'd been hoarding away and I must've taken over 5,000 of them over the month."

"5,000 pills?"

"Yep…first night I downed 30 of them with a bottle of bourbon, hoping that the pain would stop."

"Did it work?" Jezebel asked.

"Naa, I spent the rest of that night throwing up."

Jezebel laughed, "Then what happened?"

"Then I quit taking them with alcohol…whatever name they have for a person like that, comatose, catatonic, whatever the term is, I was it for three months, until one day I realized I was starved, tired, stir crazy and would go absolutely _insane_ if I didn't get out of there. And then…" he said with great realization, "And the very next day, you came in."

"Good Lord…so are you allright now?"

Methos had to think about it for a minute before he answered, "Yes, yes I think I am."

"Well good…there's not too many old ones like you left, it's nice to know after it all, you're still sane."

"And you?"

Now Jezebel paused for a minute before answering, "Yeah, I think I'm allright now. It's funny isn't it, what you have to go through to get back your peace of mind?"

"It is," Methos said, "I only wish Cassandra could've learned that."

"Yes," Jezebel replied, "It's a shame that some people just never learn to live again. If we were all to be held accountable for our actions from 3,000 years ago, there wouldn't be any of us left alive. Besides, I'd like to know just _what_ she's done over the centuries that makes her so high and mighty…"

Quieting down for a moment as she remembered the words she had with Cassandra yesterday, she briefly added, "I have a feeling it's not much."

There was a momentary and awkward silence between them after that. Finally Methos broke the silence by saying, "So…what do you want to do today?"

"I want to find out where that money is, and I want to dig it up before it rains," Jezebel said, "Then I can find out if this supposed fortune he left me is even worth the paper it's printed on."

"Fair enough," Methos responded, "When do you want to look?"

"After breakfast, no sense in burning anymore daylight than we have to. Besides, given how much land we have to look for the money, we might be doing well to come back to the house by dark."

"Sounds good to me, but first there's something I'd like to ask you," Methos said.

"What is it?"

"That ring you're wearing…I saw you put it in Kronos' grave when we were at the cemetery. Exactly what was it?"

Jezebel looked down at the band on her finger, "I'd say it's about 110 years old, I got it when Kronos and I were first starting to fight all the time. We made the date that I found him in Agua Dulce, the date of our wedding anniversary…and the day came and Kronos acted about like I was invisible the whole day. Didn't say anything, didn't want to do much of anything, all he wanted to do was go to the saloon and play poker with a couple of the well off locals. I got bored and went on home without him, he didn't come back until late in the night. I had gone to bed but I couldn't sleep, I was absolutely miserable, and furious with him…then about 1 o' clock in the morning, he came in, and he had this ring with him.

"Apparently he had paid $60 to the guy he played poker with that night, for the ring, the day before, but the guy didn't hand it over. Kronos knew if he killed him, or even beat the hell out of him for it, it'd make trouble for him and people might make a connection to Melvin Koren, because we really _weren't_ too far off from there at the time. So he got the ring the only civil way he could, he won it, along with his money, and the other man's money, in a poker game that lasted three hours. I asked him exactly what the ring was for. He said, 'As long as you wear this ring, every other man with a brain will know he doesn't stand a chance in hell with you…and also, you'll always have something to remember me by, something pleasant anyway.'

"Well, I didn't have the heart to tell him what an ugly ring it was, and why it was so important to him to get it for me I'll never know…"

"So why did he bring it back?" Methos asked.

"Well…I guess it's just his way of warding off any man with a brain. He knew I didn't want to marry again…of course, rings don't mean as much today in marriage as they used to, but there are still some men with the brains to put two and two together. It's old and broken and even uglier than the day I got it…but I guess he wants me to keep it."

"Kronos always was very…very…"

"The word you're looking for is bossy," Jezebel replied, "He was very bossy…but, it is a nice gesture, it'll keep all other men at bay, and…I suppose in a way it'll keep Kronos close to me."

"Oh I have an idea he's closer than you think," Methos said.

"Maybe so," Jezebel said.

* * *

Two hours later, Jezebel and Methos were certain they'd gotten lost somewhere on the property.

"You know what I'm beginning to think?" Methos asked.

"That Kronos just drew up this map as a joke so to piss us off while we spend hours out here getting lost trying to find it," Jezebel said.

"That's what I was thinking," Methos said.

"The map says the money's buried two miles due west from the house, this is west, right?" Jezebel asked.

"Yep."

"Well about how much distance would you reckon we put between ourselves and the house?" Jezebel asked.

"I have no idea, what I'd like to know is why Kronos buried it so far out on the property."

"Far? Looking at all these acres he probably saw it as a shortcut or something," Jezebel said, "What I'd like to know is how are we going to know where to start digging?"

"Do you have the map?" Methos asked.

She passed it to him and he looked it over, "I still can't figure this out. When we were back in Seacouver, you said that the money was buried in Arizona."

"That's what it said, but then I found the second piece of the map which outlines the property here…I guess he must have first planned it in Arizona, then decided against it and just forgot to tear up the first map," Jezebel said, "So what does it say about the land here? Where are we supposed to find the money?"

"According to this, the money is supposed to be buried under one large oak in particular."

"How will we know it when we find it though?" Jezebel asked, "What more, do you think it's even still there?"

"I sincerely hope so otherwise I'm going to be doing one hell of a gopher impersonation," Methos said.

"I think I'd like to see that," Jezebel said.

"You would."

"Methos."

"What?"

"We're not getting anywhere, let's stop and rest for a minute."

"Sounds good to me," Methos said.

They dropped their shovels and collapsed against the base of an old tree.

"This sure is some beautiful land, ain't it?" Jezebel asked.

"Paradise," Methos replied.

"Like the place we were looking to find in the Old West, this looks like the sort of ground everybody wanted to have back then to start new lives and raise a family and plow the fields…everybody was looking for a good life back then, and you know something?"

"What?" Methos asked.

"Everybody is _still_ looking for a good life now…they all want a good place to call home, and a good place to start a family…where they can live off the land, and not have to worry about much…you'd think today we'd have more opportunities than we did a hundred years ago, but…today only a few small handful of people will ever be able to say that they've had the kind of life they always hoped they would," she replied, "What happened? Why is it today you have even lesser opportunities to do that?"

"Oh Jezebel, I'm over 5,000 years old, I'm supposed to be the wisest of us all and I can't tell you that," Methos said as he laid down and rested his head on her thigh, "I've spent a good part of my life trying to figure out why when we're promised a better life than before, it turns out to be just as bad, if not worse."

Jezebel raked her fingers through his hair for a moment. "I guess I kept you up pretty late last night."

"Let's just say the roosters and I would've been in good company," Methos replied.

"I'm sorry, Methos."

"It's allright…"

"It's been _hell_, these last few months, they've been an absolute hell," Jezebel said, "For both of us."

Methos agreed, "Let's just hope by now it's over."

They stayed as they were for a moment, neither one saying a thing, resting peacefully, when Jezebel looked on ahead and noticed something.

"Oh my God."

"What?" Methos got up, "What is it?"

"Methos, do you see that?"

Methos looked to where Jezebel pointed, up ahead he saw a large oak tree with a fat trunk and there seemed to be something carved in the base. They both got up and headed over to get a better look. The carving that seemed to go all the way around the tree had been made a long time ago and by now was difficult to make anything out.

"What is it?" Methos asked.

"Egyptian I think…but to be honest I don't know that they write like _this_ in Egypt anymore," Jezebel said. She felt along each carving as if trying to figure out what they were, "That bastard."

"What?" Methos asked.

"Kronos, he must've buried the money at this tree, see? J-E-Z-E-B-E-L."

Methos looked at the odd carvings and couldn't for the life of him make out what they read. His mind had not been at its best these last few months, he knew that for sure, however a while back when Kronos had popped up in his bedroom, Methos questioned if he was losing his mind, and now he wasn't so sure of what the answer was.

"I should've guessed," Jezebel said, "Just like Kronos, preferring the old ways, so he marks the right tree using my name in Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs."

"At least I _hope_ it's the right tree," Methos replied.

"Well," she said, "There's only one way to find out."

And the two started digging, and they had no idea exactly how deep they were supposed to dig before they struck something. One hour passed and they had dug up a lot of the ground but found no money. Part of why it took so long to get much progress done was because apparently when Kronos buried the money, he didn't want to risk anybody else digging it up. Under six inches of dirt rested eight inches of bricks and rocks. They threw them out, dug another six inches and found more bricks underneath.

"I'm beginning to realize how lucky Kronos is that he's dead," Methos said.

"You can say that again," Jezebel replied as she stomped her shovel into the ground, only for the shovel to sort of ricochet under her foot. "I've hit something else."

"I hope it's not more rocks, we already have enough to stone to death everybody in the next town," Methos said.

Jezebel grabbed hold of something deep in the earth and she pulled it up. "Well how about that? It's a…imagine finding a…okay, I'll bite, what the hell is it?"

"It's a safe deposit box," Methos said.

"Oh, like the sort they keep in bank vaults?"

"Exactly the same," Methos replied, "I guess Kronos found it to be too much a hassle to put it all in a coffin."

"Well, now we find out if it turns out he left me any money at all, or if this has all been some joke that he's having a good otherworld laugh about," Jezebel said.

She set the heavy box on the ground and opened the lid, and then she just looked in the box and didn't do anything in response.

"Well what is it?" Methos asked.

He stepped over beside her to see what was in the box. There were assorted bills strapped together in packs, some new, some old, and some that by now were no longer in public circulation. It was all in American bills, divided up in 50s, 100s and 500s. Jezebel noticed a letter stuck in the top of the box. She took it out and read it over.

"What's it say?" Methos asked.

"It says:" Jezebel read,

"Dear Jezebel,

If you are reading this, then you know I'm dead. Don't despair, I don't imagine the sort of person I've turned into by this time is anybody you'd find worth mourning over. Regardless of what's happened and what I've done, I still love you, even if by now the feeling isn't mutual. I have a good idea that you'll be allright from here on out, I suppose I've always known that. You are exactly what a person needs to be in order to survive, you can be passive but you can also fight when necessary and win. You don't make enemies out of everybody but you're not overly trusting either. You've hurt and you've bled but you also healed and moved on and you've survived. I leave you now, a well-off widow, here you'll find enough money to keep you well taken care of for I gather the next millennium. I want you to take good care of Methos if you find him, I trust he'll be the last of us alive, you know surviving was what he did best. He can put up a pretty good disguise of being allright, but I've always been able to see through him, I've always known when he hurt…he may be the oldest among us but he's still human and he still needs somebody he can trust, and right now if that's anybody in this world, it's you. I leave you now but remember that I'll be watching you, and I love you.

Your dear husband,  
Kronos."

Jezebel lowered the letter and looked to Methos, "Tell me again who should've been a philosopher?"

"Is there anything else to the letter?" Methos asked.

Jezebel looked at it again and read, "P.S…." as she read the letter she laughed and a blush rose to her face.

"Well what does he say, Jezebel?" Methos asked.

"You're not old enough to know," Jezebel smugly replied as she folded up the letter, "Can you help me move this thing to the house?"

"Just call me the pack mule," Methos said.

* * *

Methos took the box as Jezebel refilled the dirt into the hole. They took everything back to the house and once there, Jezebel sat down at the living room table with the box and counted the money while Methos cooked lunch. An hour later Jezebel finished the count at little over five million dollars, and at the bottom of the box was another letter, with directions to access a vault box in a bank in Zurich.

"Zurich of all places," Methos said, "I thought Kronos was more original than that."

"Well it doesn't matter," Jezebel said as she locked up the box, "What's here in this box is going to last me probably longer than the house will. I just wonder where he got it all."

"Probably built up from lifetimes of stealing," Methos said.

"Maybe so…damn I miss him."

"I know."

"He wasn't the best husband a woman could ask for," Jezebel said.

"No he wasn't."

"He wasn't too bright."

"Nope."

"Damn near impossible to reason with."

"I know," Methos replied.

"But he was all I had……"

After a moment, Jezebel seemed to recollect herself. "I'm sorry…I guess this is going to take more time than I thought…getting through the mourning period I mean."

"It's allright."

"Times like this I really hate Kronos," Jezebel said, "And I don't know why…I always swore that if he ever died, I'd never cry over him and look at me now."

"I know," Methos said, "All too well I know."

"I swear…" Jezebel said as she got up from the table, "Who was it that said 'any other time, any other place, and things could be different between us'?"

"I don't know," Methos said.

"I thought Napoleon said it…oh well, whoever said it, they sure knew what they were talking about, you know? You and I, we're so much alike, we understand each other so well, if we weren't already related, we might stand a chance of eternity together…married, I mean."

Methos laughed, "I don't know about that, you know I've never been married to an Immortal before."

"Why not?" she asked, "It's so much easier, nothing to hide, not as much anyway."

"Quite a responsibility though," he replied.

"Who're you telling?" she asked, "Besides, it could be nice…two Immortals, spending eternity together, no in-laws butting in, no diseases that can interfere, not having to worry about outliving the other…"

"Would be nice but you forget something," Methos said.

"What's that?" she asked.

"The Game."

"It only counts if you play it…I chose a long time ago not to."

"But if you were married to another Immortal," Methos said, "How could you be sure that they wouldn't try to take your head one day?"

Jezebel looked him dead in the eyes and asked him, "Do you want my head, Methos?"

"No!" he replied without missing a beat, and then he paused before adding, "Do you want my head?"

"You offered it up on the chopping block before and I turned you down, why do you think I wouldn't again?" she asked, "You see, Methos, that's just it, we're probably the only two Immortals in the world who could trust each other to live together for eternity…and we can't do it."

"No we cannot," Methos agreed, "Not the way we'd probably like to anyway."

Jezebel nodded, "I rather like it out here away from everybody, but you, you have your friends back in Seacouver, you need to be with them…"

Methos nodded, "I spent a long time not able to trust much of anyone, it's nice now to have a few friends I can go back to…hopefully."

Jezebel detected a hint of dread in his tone. "Why do you say that?" she asked.

"It's a bit of a long story," Methos said.

"Well," she replied, "If ever something happens and they don't take you back, you know you can always stay out here with me."

Methos nodded, "I know, and I appreciate it."

Neither said anything for a moment after that. Jezebel looked to the floor and asked, "So, what's going to happen when you go back?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is this going to be it for us for the next 4,000 years, or will I see you again?"

Now that hurt. She knew just what to say to hurt him, she knew just what to say to hurt anybody. He smiled, she would've made a good mother.

"Well, now that I know where you are," he said, "I don't think it'll be that long."

"Good," she replied with a wink, "I get lonely too, you know."

"So I've noticed…so now what do we do?" Methos asked.

"Well…this is certainly getting depressing," Jezebel said, "Let's get something to eat, and then let's uncover the rest of the things in the house, and then once that's done, we can figure out what to do for the rest of your stay."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Methos said.

* * *

By the time they had finished uncovering everything on the second and third floors of the house, it was the late afternoon, the sky had turned dark, and both Methos and Jezebel were exhausted, and as big a mess as they were the day before.

"Just great," Methos huffed as he looked himself over in the mirror, "I need to bathe _again_."

"Give it some time," Jezebel said from where she lay on the bed, "You won't have to bathe, you can just go on the roof and wash off when the rain starts."

Methos tried to change the subject. Over the day, they had come across a lot of things that had belonged to Kronos, and she had been wondering what to do with it all. "So…have you decided what to do yet?"

"Not really…how can I get rid of anything that's here?" Jezebel asked, "I wouldn't even know where to begin, old bronze armor, iron shackles, a trunk full of skulls…what do you suppose those were for?"

"Probably more trophies," Methos replied.

"Now that Kronos is gone, I'm probably just going to keep it all where it is…maybe it'll make it easier to hang on to the memories of him." She laughed, "I sound pretty ridiculous right about now, don't I?"

"No, it's perfectly natural to want to remember all that you can about him…and hold on to what you wouldn't remember."

"Maybe," Jezebel replied, "I'm new to it all…" she laughed again, "That's a queer thing to say isn't it? I'm over 4,000 years old and there's something in this world I'm new to."

"Well there's nothing wrong with that," Methos replied as he slipped on the bed beside her, "Live as long as we do, you wouldn't want things to sudden turn boring."

"With you?" Jezebel said, "Impossible."

Methos looked over at Jezebel, she had her arms stretched out on her sides and her eyes were closed. She was nearly asleep as it was.

"Are you allright?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm just tired," she replied, "Go on and bathe, I'll be along later."

Before he got up, Methos tried to find a place on Jezebel's face that hadn't been caked in dirt, dust, or soot from their day's activities. He finally found one near her ear and kissed her before heading off to the bathroom to clean up.

* * *

Jezebel heard two bells ring and she woke up and saw by the antique clock on the dresser that it was going on 5:30 in the afternoon. Getting up from the bed, she went out onto the balcony and saw the sky was becoming a near black, and a cold and heavy wind was moving in. She went back into the bedroom and shut the doors and went back to the bed. Over on the dresser next to the clock was a framed picture of Kronos. That was the only other possession of hers that remained other than her clothes, her money and her sword. She picked up the frame and smiled.

"You son of a bitch," she said, "You fix me up to have everything I could never dream of, and when I get it all, you're not here to celebrate with."

As she put the picture back on the dresser, she looked at the ring on her finger again, then she remembered last night.

"Son of a bitch," she whispered to herself as she closed her eyes and sent her fist slamming down on the dresser. Then she heard glass break. Opening her eyes she saw that she had smashed a glass ashtray into several tiny pieces. She pulled her hand back and paid no attention to the pain as tiny shards cut open her flesh, it all healed quickly afterwards. Shoving the broken pieces of glass into a garbage can, Jezebel got to her feet again and removed her dress. She caught her reflection in the mirror on the wall, in her white full body slip, she looked very much the way she did back in the Old West. She had to laugh, as long as she lived, _those_ would be the days she would remember probably most of all.

As she stood alone in the room, she thought back to those days, she thought back to 1867 when she went looking for Kronos. She'd heard stories of the man known as El Gato, the man who had been shot, stabbed and even lynched. It was too much a coincidence, she had to see it for herself, it _had_ to be somebody she knew. When she arrived at Agua Dulce she found out it was Kronos allright, a tintype had been made of him and put on wanted posters.

Word came in from the locals that the Texas Rangers were coming in later in the day and they were going to take Melvin Koren out, one way or another. It was all just a matter of time.

"El Gato, eh?" she laughed as she got on her horse to ride off and search again, "Well if Kronos is going to be El Gato, I'm going to be El Diablo."

Somehow or other, thinking back now she couldn't figure it out, but she had been in the right place at the right time. She was too late to join in the battle, the guns were already going off and when she arrived she heard people cry in victory that Melvin Koren had been shot dead by the Texas Rangers. She watched them haul his body out, he'd changed a bit since she last saw him, but it was him allright.

Among the Texas Rangers, there was another man, one that when she took one step too close, she found out he was Immortal. She hadn't found out at the time who he was, and they were surrounded by so many people, he probably never knew who she was either, but she had a good idea that he was responsible for Kronos' death.

She went to the cemetery with the others, watched them drop his body into the cold ground and then cover him up. The funeral was for him, but she felt several eyes watching her as well. In addition to being a stranger in town, she was disrespectful by the others' standards. Nobody wore black and nobody had a veil on their face, but all the women were dressed as prim and proper as could be, and she stood like a mule on his hind legs in men's clothes that were too large for her and she kept her guns at her sides.

As the preacher spoke from the book he held, her mind couldn't focus on anything he said, she could only pay attention to Kronos being buried deeper, and the irritating feeling that people were watching her. She began to wonder if they knew. _Could _they know that she was the wife of this man they had feared and hated? What if they suspected? What if they knew? A strange woman in their town at the same time of this horrible man, they just _might_ put it all together. But what if they did? She hadn't any part of his recent doings, and she'd kill anybody who tried to make it out to be otherwise. A prayer was said and the others left, but she stayed, she stayed and once everyone had gone, she went to work in digging him back up.

Now as she looked back on her life from over a hundred years ago, Jezebel felt the room spinning and she took two steps back and fell on the bed, as brief memories from their last years together came back to her.

She remembered Kronos waking up in her hotel room and seeing her again for the first time in thousands of years. She remembered his reaction when she took him to her home, the days they spent together, watching the stars at night, making love in the rain, the hot summer nights spent in saloons drinking beer, playing cards and dancing, and swimming in the river trying to cool off. She also remembered when things started to take a turn for the worse and the fights started. They yelled at each other, she threw things at him, plenty of which broke over his head. She also remembered him staying away at night and then returning home after she had gone to bed.

"Who is it?" she tiredly asked one night, her head swimming from the heat so much that she could barely see.

"It's me," he answered as he crawled on top of her.

He, being the last person she wanted to see that night, was met with an abrupt foot to the crotch followed by the scream, "Get the _hell_ out of my bed!" as he fell to the floor.

She also remembered the night he came home late and put that ring on her finger. Then she remembered last night when he put it on again, and she remembered his final words to her right before he left. He kissed her and said, "I love you, goodbye," and disappeared before her eyes.

She rolled on her side and felt the burning of tears building up in her eyes. If this was what it was like to be a widow, she _definitely_ didn't ever want to marry again. After a while, Jezebel tired and fell asleep, and when she did, somebody else joined her on the bed. Kronos sat beside her and stroked through her hair, and then he ran his hand down the length of her body from her cheek to her thigh and back again. Then he kissed her and took her hand in his and sat with her for a while.

* * *

A short while later, Methos came out of the bathroom bathed and dressed and he saw Jezebel had fallen asleep. At first he thought of waking her up but he decided against it. They'd both been through a lot lately and she could probably use what rest she could get, especially after last night.

Looking at her, he almost had to laugh. She had taken off her dress and was still in her long slip, which somehow throughout the day had remained as white as snow. She might've looked like an angel if it weren't for the filth that covered her face. He went back into the bathroom, took a washcloth out of the cupboard, ran it under the faucet, wrung it out, then returned to the bedroom and tried to wash the dirt off her face. Through it all she never woke up and when Methos finished, _then_ she looked more like an angel.

Methos felt a cold breeze at the back of his neck, and then he heard something that almost made his heart stop. He looked up and tried to figure out _where_ he had heard, he thought for certain that he'd heard Kronos laughing. After everything he'd been through, maybe he should've been used to it by now, and yet he thought, maybe after what had happened with Kronos, he wouldn't be used to much of anything anymore.

Just as that thought entered his mind, an icy chill jumped up his back when he felt somebody put a hand on his neck. He closed his eyes and tried to prepare himself for what he knew he was going to see when he turned to the side, but really, he knew there was nothing in the world that could ever prepare him to face his dead brother.

Opening his eyes again, he slowly turned to his right and saw him, smiling, looking like he was finally at peace, something for which Methos would always be grateful, even though Kronos' peace had come at the cost of his life.

"Hello, Brother."

"Hello."

Kronos laughed again, "Don't look so nervous, one would think you were about to become a sacrifice."

"So what're you doing here?" Methos asked.

"Not much, I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"And?"

"And _still_ I've seen you look better," Kronos said.

"What about Jeze…"

Whatever Methos had to say, was cut off when Kronos took him by surprise and kissed him.

"If you keep doing that," Methos said, "I'm going to…"

"Don't get yourself so excited," Kronos told him, "I just wanted to tell you…I'm happy for both of you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I can think of plenty of worse ways for you two to end up than here and now, together…at least after all these years, you two were able to meet up again."

Methos nodded in agreement, "It has been nice to have someone I can be honest with."

"Unlike that Scottish infant you call 'friend'," Kronos said, and he pointed to Jezebel, "Take care of her, Methos…she'll be allright in time, but she's still not as strong as she was."

"I'll do what I can," Methos replied, knowing that Jezebel would deny needing any help, even his.

Kronos smiled and he put his arms around Methos as he kissed him again.

"I _do_ love you, both of you," he said, "And I know you're both going to be allright now."

And then, right before Methos' eyes, just as he appeared, Kronos disappeared. Methos went over to Jezebel to make sure she was allright, and he was surprised to find that she was still asleep. As he looked down at her, a bright light came into the room and then he heard a loud BOOM of thunder. He went to the balcony doors and saw the rain pouring down. The storm had come, but now all was calm inside, for which Methos was thankful. He turned back to Jezebel and carefully slipped his hand under her head and slipped a pillow under her. Then he drew up one of the sheets on her and was about to head downstairs when he decided against leaving her alone, at least until she woke up. Instead, he seated himself in the chair next to the bed, and relaxed a bit himself.

Somehow, he thought, as fatigue from the day's events caught up with him as well, he knew that Kronos had been correct when he said they were going to be allright now. Somehow, he just knew. It seemed, he thought as he nodded off to sleep, that Kronos always knew.


	10. Chapter 10

When Jezebel awoke later, she made a direct move for the bathroom where she buried herself up to her neck in hot water in the bathtub. She had scrubbed every inch of grime off her body and for the next hour was laid back in the tub and thinking. The only trouble with thinking in a hot bathtub was that you had a tendency to doze off in it. As she started to fall asleep, and her body slipped a few inches lower into the water, there was a knock at the door. She woke up immediately and pulled herself back up. "Yes?"

"Jezebel, are you allright?" Methos asked.

She was now that she was awake. "Yes, come on in," she said.

The door opened and Methos walked in and then saw she was still in the tub.

"Excuse me," he said as he went back to the door and out of the room.

"Of all the…Methos get back in here!" she bellowed.

When he returned with more color in his face than she could remember seeing before, she asked him, "What's the matter with you? You'd think you'd never seen a woman before."

"Call it what you will…"

"I call it foolishness," Jezebel said, "I'll bet anything I've got that Kronos wasn't the _only_ one watching me bathe all those years ago when it was the six of us together in the desert. Besides, you get to be 5,000 years old I would think you'd know about the female body rather well…I've seen those paintings in your apartment, pale goddesses naked as the day they were born, or created, or whatever they were."

"Yes but they're not my sister-in-law."

"Oh where do you get off being such a prude? How about the other week when I came in here while you were bathing? Are you going to tell me that's different?"

"Well I prefer my privacy when I'm bathing."

"Hell, what did you do throughout the 1800s? I don't know about you but I spent plenty of summer days in public bath houses, and I saw _everybody_ else who was there…and they saw me…it was no big deal," she said. "I think I get it…you're playing the brother's keeper, only the brother isn't around to keep anymore, it's his wife, and you wouldn't dare do anything to her that your brother wouldn't approve of. Is that it?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe," she repeated in a mock of his tone, "Methos, there's something I've been wondering today."

"What is it?"

"What's going to happen to Adam Pierson? I mean, when he's supposed to die so nobody can make a comparison, what are you going to do then?"

Methos shook his head, "I don't know, I hadn't thought much of it…Adam Pierson is relatively new."

"How new?"

"Twelve years."

Jezebel laughed, "I hope he's Italian otherwise you might have some trouble soon. But I'm serious, Methos, what are you going to do then for the next lifetime?"

"I don't know."

"Well…when that time comes, would it really be so bad if you stayed out here with me for a decade or two?"

"Well it might," Methos replied as he knelt down by the tub so he matched her current height.

"Why?"

"You remember my friend, Joe Dawson from the bar?"

"Oh sure…I see what you mean…well, maybe after Adam…then you could be his nursemaid, you said you've studied medicine?"

"Several times."

"Maybe after that…" she paused as she saw the look that came into Methos' eyes, "I'm not saying that I think it'll be soon…but it's going to happen sooner or later."

He nodded, "I know, I just try not to think about it…I don't have too many good friends anymore."

"I know," she replied, "But Richie and MacLeod, they'll still be around in fifty years won't they?"

"God willing."

Jezebel nodded, "Maybe then."

"Well this is certainly a depressing conversation," Methos said.

"Indeed, let's talk about something else before we both start wailing," she said.

"Well, have you decided what to do with your inheritance now that we've found it?" Methos asked.

"I have," she answered.

"Well what are you going to do with it?" Methos asked.

"Not a thing!" Jezebel cheerfully replied.

"What?"

"Methos, there's over five million dollars in that safe deposit box, that's more than could last any mortal his whole bloody life…that's enough to last me for over five hundred years…I'm not a fool, I've never desired the foolish things people spend their lives hunting after, gold, diamonds, more money than I could ever need…what was it that Kaufman said once? 'You can't take it with you, so what good is it?' In the meantime, from what I've seen of people, a lot of people, the more money they have, the more miserable they are, and do you know why?"

Methos had his own opinions but he decided to hear what Jezebel had to say.

"Money is many things, but the two most common are a disease, and a curse…once you've managed to pull together a good deal of it, instead of enjoying it and seeing how far it lasts you, people focus on making more of it, so much more that they never have time to enjoy anything else, nothing to enjoy except their money and what does it bring them? Where does it get them? Fat, drunk and miserable for a good deal. And those who don't live in misery, blow their brains out when it seems they've got everything. They make or they get an extravagant amount of money, and therefore use it to live extravagant lives. Well, I'm a simple person overall. Oh this house, this house is a museum to me, a mausoleum, a king's tomb…I can't possibly think about what I'm going to do with it all."

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Methos said.

"And the property…oh the land, I've never lived on a piece of land of this amount…I've no idea what I'm going to do with it all either…although…"

"Although what?"

"Well," she said, "A couple times in my life, I earned my living on a farm, oh it was nice, living off the land…but I never got around to trying it for myself, I was always a farmhand. I think I'd like to get a well dug somewhere out there, then get my hands on a plow and about five hundred thousand seeds and shrubs, and just see what comes of it all. The world, I've seen enough of it for my time, I've been over it nearly 500 times now. Now I just want to stop somewhere and put down some roots for a while, a couple years at least to produce a harvest. People often underestimate the simple life, they take it all for granted…I can't figure it out."

"How do you mean?" Methos asked.

"People are never satisfied. You take someone who lives in a house, not very big but plenty comfortable, with some good people to live with, a good piece of land to toil and live off, and they ain't happy. Oh they say, if they had a bigger house, on a bigger piece of land, and this that and the other, then they would be happy, and they get that and still it's not enough. They spend their whole lives chasing after something they can never have even if they get it. Some of them want to see the world, there's nothing wrong with that, like to travel, meet new people, try new things, it's allright…but you simply cannot spend your whole life hopping from one airport or train station, to another. Eventually you have to stop and settle down and make a life for yourself."

"I agree," Methos said, "That's why I became Adam Pierson in the first place. You would think it would've made things simpler."

"You know," Jezebel said, "If I gave a damn about being world renowned, I could probably take everything I've learned over the last century or so and put it to some use and make quite a lady of myself. But I've no desire to…I don't want to be classy, or civilized, or important, half the time I don't rightly even care if I'm clean…I'll be very happy remaining a simple little nobody who falls out of the picture, and stays right here toiling the soil and shucking corn."

"It's a dream in itself anymore," Methos agreed.

"Yes…it's funny isn't it? The people who want so much in this life, either don't get it, or are miserable from it when they do get it…and here I've never wanted more than a simple roof over my head and a little money to live on, and my husband leaves me with the 5th branch of the federal reserve."

"He always was a strange one like that," Methos said.

"Yes he was…"

For a minute, Jezebel seemed to be outside of herself, it seemed she was staring at nothing. Then she came back to herself and said, "I was just thinking…Kronos always was a strange one…"

Methos nodded in agreement.

"I remember close to the end…we'd be at each other's throats every day it seemed…you'd never guess that we used to be in love…and yet…once I asked him, a few years before the fighting started…I asked him 'If I never told you again that I loved you, would you think I still did?', and he said 'yes'. And then I asked him, 'if you never told me again that you loved me, would you still?', and again he said 'yes'. Then I went in for the kill…I asked him 'Do you think Methos still loves you?' The first thing he said was, 'I don't even know if he's still alive', so I said 'Assuming that he is, do you think he still loves you?', and he responded, 'I don't know.' He'd been talking about you a lot at that time, and he kept coming back to when you left him…every time he brought it up, he was completely beside himself," Jezebel said, "It was a very unusual time."

"He hated me," Methos said.

"He thought he did…but I didn't believe him, not entirely anyway…I told him if he did hate you, then he wouldn't even bother to think of you at all, considering that you could very well have been dead. People will talk to the end of time about Hitler, Mussolini, Jack the Ripper, Cain who butchered his brother, Jezebel who was fed to the dogs in her comeuppance, and Joseph's brothers who sold him as a slave…but nobody, will talk for eternity about a person they hate, as Kronos talked about you. Oh somebody you truly hated you might bring it up for…twenty years, fifty, maybe a hundred, but not for 2,000 years. And ooh he got upset when I said that, Kronos would fight with anybody who contradicted him, but I'm happy to say that I rarely lost."

Methos laughed when she said that. He tried to wonder just _how_ she ever won an argument with Kronos.

"I always wondered, _what_ happened, to make him the way he was…but I don't think we'll ever know. We'll guess, we'll know bits and pieces, but I don't think we'll ever know the entire reason," Jezebel said.

Methos hated to say it but he agreed. He'd spent a good part of his life trying to figure it out and he still wound up not being any closer to the truth than he was when it started. Oh, he knew more about it than Jezebel did, but he still didn't know the entire piece of it. They never would, he supposed, just grasp at straws for all eternity.

Jezebel pulled the plug to the tub, stepped up and picked up a towel. "Actually though," she said, "Getting back to the matter of the money, I do have an idea."

"What's that?"

"Well…what is it that the Bible says about doing good work?" Jezebel asked.

"Depending on which side it's in, I can't say at the moment," Methos said, remembering the Bible in the basement with the front half taken out of it.

"Something about they should be done in secret…well, I reckon there's some poor bastard out in the world who can use some of the money I've got. And when I find that poor bastard, with no one the wiser, I'm going to see that it gets to where it needs to go," she explained.

She left the bathroom and Methos followed her back to the master bedroom where she got dressed in a white nightgown she found in the closet.

"That sky looks pretty bad," she said, "How long's it been raining?"

"A while now, why?"

"Well, now I'm really relieved that we got the money when we did," Jezebel said, "I can't imagine digging up those bricks through 15 inches of tightly packed mud. At least now we can relax."

"I'll go start dinner, I didn't think you ought to be left alone until you woke up," Methos said.

Jezebel looked at the clock, "Oh we're really becoming eccentrics now, dinner at 11 o' clock at night. What are we having?"

"That's where it's not so eccentric, chicken and potatoes."

"And put a bottle of wine in the freezer," Jezebel told him, "And let's have it up here. I'm getting tired of eating at that kitchen table every day."

* * *

After dinner, Jezebel climbed into bed and lay down on her side. Methos slipped in beside her, "Are you allright?"

"It's just been a tiring day is all," she told him, "Right now all I want to do is sleep."

Methos reached over and turned off the light and pulled the covers up on them, "Better?"

"A little, but something's still missing."

"What?" Methos asked.

Jezebel rolled over onto Methos and into his arms, simultaneously knocking the wind out of him. "Now I can sleep."

Methos had to laugh. He knew that when he returned to Seacouver, Jezebel would have to get used to sleeping alone again, but he wasn't going to mention it now.

"Goodnight, Methos," Jezebel said.

"Goodnight, Jezebel," he replied. Then he turned to the side and added, "Goodnight, Kronos."

Jezebel shot up, "Where?"

"I don't know," Methos said as he pulled her back down, "But I imagine he's somewhere close by."

"You're probably right," she replied.

As the next few minutes passed, the two fell asleep in each other's arms. Outside the storm picked up again, the rain pounded down, the thunder crashed as loud as explosions, and the lightning was nearly bright enough to blind. But they were oblivious to the storm, and to everything else around them at the time. Everything, including the uninvited guest who entered the room.

Kronos crossed to the window and took a brief look out at the storm, then drew the curtains, and he walked over to the bed. He sat down at the edge, his own weight added nothing to the mattress now. It had been decided that he would leave them alone for a while, right after he finished here. He leaned over so he could reach them, first he kissed Jezebel, and then Methos. For a moment, he didn't get up, he just stared at them as if he wanted to remember every detail to them, for eternity. Reaching around the large lump in the bed which was the two of them together, he pulled Jezebel's hand out from underneath Methos, then lifted Methos' hand off Jezebel's back, and pressed the two hands together into one grasp. Then he got up and crossed over towards the window, but he looked back to them before he disappeared as mysteriously as he had come.

The clock struck midnight, and its chimes woke Jezebel up. She looked around the room, and that woke Methos up.

"What is it?" he asked.

She looked around the room once more as if to make certain of something, and she finally said, "Nothing, everything's fine. Do you hear that, Methos?"

"I don't hear anything."

"Exactly," she said, "And it's the sweetest sound I've heard in months."

Methos looked at her. "What?"

"Well, I didn't tell you before," Jezebel said, "But right around the time Kronos died, I started hearing things…voices, people, it sounded like they were talking to me. After a while, all the voices started to sound like one, and after a while longer, it started sounded like Kronos. I could never understand what it was he was saying though. He never really shut up, until now."

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I didn't want you to think I was crazy. You know how it is, you get to be our age, people expect you go lose your mind, see and hear things that aren't there. How would it have sounded if I said to you that I was hearing my dead husband?"

"Probably no stranger than if I told you I was seeing my dead brother," Methos replied.

"Maybe you're right, but you'd been through a lot and I didn't want to worry you," Jezebel told him, "I know you tend to take a lot on your shoulders, of other people's problems, even though you pretend nothing bothers you."

"I've gotten that easy to read have I?" Methos asked.

"Better than a telephone book," she said.

They both laughed for a short while before the fatigue got to them again.

"Goodnight, Methos," Jezebel said.

"Goodnight, Jezebel," he replied.

"Goodnight, Kronos," Jezebel added, "Wherever you are."

It was then that another thought came to Methos, "Jezebel?"

"What is it?" she asked.

"There's something that I'm wondering if you ought to know," Methos said.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Well, you remember Richie."

"Sure I do, what about him?" Jezebel asked.

Methos started to explain but thought better of it. It was too late in the night and he was too tired to explain how Kronos found Richie all those years ago.

"I'll tell you tomorrow," he said.

"Okay," Jezebel pushed herself up and kissed Methos on the cheek, "Goodnight."

* * *

That night for Methos was one of the most pleasant he'd had since Kronos died. All through the night as he slept, he felt relaxed, completely and entirely relaxed. Gone were the nightmares that had plagued him for months, he felt half awake the entire time he slept. It also felt to him that somebody was holding him for all that time, cradling him in their arms, as if trying to protect him from something.

Somewhere deep in his memory, he remembered not having been coddled in bed like this for thousands of years. He remembered that Kronos used to hold him close like this, in the desert, when their enemies were few and close by, but impossible for the Horsemen to find. Their days were spent in battle and the nights in exhaust and fear, at least that's how it was for Methos several times. He suspected Kronos must have felt the same way, or at least have known what Methos felt. Kronos said he kept as tight a hold on Methos as he did, so if they should be attacked in the night, nobody could take Methos away from him. However Methos often felt that the real reason was because Kronos was just as afraid of being alone as he was. For a long time, he kept as close to Kronos as he did because he feared otherwise, Kronos might disappear, and then the world as he knew it would fall away, he suspected Kronos felt the exact same way about his brother, but would never admit to it.

It was especially after Jezebel had disappeared and the Horsemen had begun their reign of terror. Kronos had never, and would never have admitted it to anybody, he at that time hurt still from losing Jezebel, and it could have been, as Methos suspected often, that Kronos was afraid of losing his brother as well. Perhaps that's why, a part of Methos thought to himself, that Kronos held as tightly to his brother as he did, he wasn't the easiest one to live with, but perhaps he had over time become the easiest to love and Kronos feared losing him. Whatever his reasons were, Methos was glad of them because he didn't anymore want to be alone than Kronos did. Even for a cold blooded killer, being alone could be the worst fate to suffer. Of course, Methos also knew, if something were to ever happen to him, Kronos would still have Caspian and Silas, his loyal brothers…but if anything ever happened to Kronos, Methos felt he couldn't live. For a long time he _couldn't_ live without Kronos, as he had explained to Jezebel, but somehow, sometime, that changed, as she had explained to Methos.

As Methos subconsciously took all this into consideration, he felt somebody kiss him, but he was too tired to try and find out who it was. He tried to wake up and find out, but no amount of his curiosity could overwhelm the power held over him to keep him as he were, held tightly and kept unconscious, almost as if he were outside of himself. And yet, it was one of the greatest feelings Methos had ever known, completely secure, kept safe, and loved.

* * *

The next thing he knew, it was 8:30 in the morning, he was on one side of the bed, and Jezebel was on the other side, slowly coming around herself. The storm had ended sometime during the night but a light rain continued outside. There was no sun to shine in today but neither felt that it mattered.

"Did you sleep well?" Jezebel asked.

"Like the dead," Methos replied, "And you?"

"For the first time in a while…like the living," Jezebel answered.

Methos tried to grab her but she already got out of bed and over to the window, she opened the curtains and lifted the window up wide.

"It's always so pleasant after a storm, did you notice that? No matter how terrible the storms ever get, the aftermath is always worth it."

"Providing you don't live on flood territory," Methos replied, "But I agree."

He stepped behind her and looked out at the property. The trees were green and glistening with the raindrops still covering them. The ground was dark and mostly turned to mud except for that which was covered (thankfully) in grass. The wild flowers that had grown off to one side of the property, wild being they weren't the sort that could be planted and always brought themselves up out of nowhere, also glistened in their sharp and beautiful colors. It truly seemed like paradise to both of them, the peace and quiet mixed with the nature's beauty that both had desired for most of their lives, for a while it just seemed unreal.

"So," Jezebel turned back to him, "What was it you wanted to tell me?"

* * *

Jezebel's eyes about jumped out of her head when Methos finished explaining. Methos had suggested they go down to the kitchen first since it might take more than a couple drinks of coffee for what he had to say to ring believable.

"Kronos was Richie's father?"

"I know it sounds hard to believe," Methos said.

"No, no it doesn't sound hard to believe at all, I _knew_ there was something about him."

"But there's something else," Methos told her, "Richie doesn't know."

That really seemed to surprise her. "He doesn't?"

"No."

"Does MacLeod?"

"No."

"That would explain it," Jezebel said, "When we were still in Seacouver, I talked to him about Kronos, I gathered that they didn't get along at ALL…I wondered how MacLeod could take so well knowing that Kronos raised Richie."

"He doesn't know," Methos said again.

"Are they going to know?" she asked.

"I don't know," Methos replied, "I think Richie has a right to know, but I'm just not sure."

"MacLeod would definitely not be happy with it," Jezebel said.

Methos laughed once, loud and without humor, "That would be the understatement of the century."

"Do you want me to go with you when you tell them?"

"That's sweet, Jezebel, but if I do tell them, I think I'd better do it by myself. But to be honest, I don't know that I will."

"It's perfectly understandable," Jezebel told him, "MacLeod thinks he can take more than he really can, I don't think he'd be able to sustain a shock like that."

"He thought before he could also take more than he really could," Methos explained, "It's not something I want to go through again."

"But what about Richie?"

"Richie…he's still young and more himself than a miniature MacLeod. I don't think he'd hold it against me as much, if I told him."

Jezebel nodded in agreement, and there was an awkward pause between the two for a while. Finally, Jezebel got up from the kitchen table and went over to the wine rack on the wall. "You know, Methos, this is rather nice what we have."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that we can still be as close as we are even after the fact…that we're not enemies."

Methos nodded, "For which you have no idea how grateful I am."

Jezebel picked up a wine bottle and took it back to the table and removed the cork, "Remember what we were talking about before? If this were any other time and any other place, and maybe if we were any other people…that we might stand a chance at marriage?"

"I do."

"I got to thinking last night, maybe it's a good thing we are what we are and this is the time and place it is. I _do_ love you, Methos, very much…but I don't think I could ever be married to you…I think if that happened, it might become like my marriage to Kronos, worth it for a while but by the end of it, a mess."

Methos nodded, "I know, I thought about the same thing…and it's really the oddest thing."

"How's that?"

"Well I never told you this, but a while back when we first came out here, I had a dream one night that you and I were married and we had a child," Methos laughed nervously as he explained.

Jezebel wasn't laughing but her composure was still serene, "I know."

Methos stopped laughing, "You do?"

She nodded, "Or I had a guess anyway. I had one like that as well…and I've been having it again, and again, and again…is that what yours has been doing?"

Methos nodded.

"I don't think it's coincidence, do you?" Jezebel asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I think Kronos had something to do with it all…maybe I'm becoming the sap that he once was, but I think he's been doing _something_ trying to push us closer together."

"Why would he do that?" Methos asked.

"Because he has a dark sense of humor," Jezebel said, "Maybe also because he loves us both and doesn't want either of us to be alone. I can commend him on his intentions but I think…I think if we remain as we are now, we'll both be fine as long as we live, and we'll never either of us be lonely because we can always come to the other's aid in a moment's notice. When things get boring in Seacouver, you can come out here for a few weeks' rest, it might be even more boring here, but at least you'd have somebody to be with."

Methos nodded, "And if this life gets lonely for you, you can come stay with me, the offer still stands, the rats and I will be very happy to have you."

Jezebel nodded as she poured them two glasses of wine, "I think a drink is in order."

Methos picked up his glass and observed the amount of wine in it. "Wine at 9 in the morning and this isn't Paris, we really are becoming eccentric. Is this drink to anything in particular or are you just in a gay mood this morning?"

Both laughed momentarily at the joke between them, they acted the part of eccentrics allright, but more suitable for a time period closer to the 1930s when nothing had the same meaning it did these days.

"A drink," she declared, "To my late husband, of whose his heart was _not_ bigger than his brain, but the strongest of the two, he brought us together while he was alive, and he brought us together again in his death, and we'll continue to be brought together as time passes, because of him."

"I'll drink that," Methos said.


	11. Chapter 11

The next few weeks from that point on, passed rather easily. Every day Methos and Jezebel would go out and explore the land to see what all it contained. When they came back to the house, they'd drink and dance and go through Kronos' things. At night they would lay side by side in bed and talk. It was a relief they both found, to have somebody to be completely honest with. Methos found it largely therapeutic because it had been a long time since he could be completely honest with anybody, even with Alexa there had been so much he couldn't tell her. Even more soothing he found, was the fact that Jezebel understood. Whatever he had to say, she wouldn't think he was crazy, in fact she might even know what he was talking about.

For Methos it was such a relief, for the first time in a long time he truly felt at peace. The strange thing was he had come out here for Jezebel's benefit but his visit seemed to be doing him more good than it did her. Of course he remembered she didn't show as easily when things bothered her, so it could very well be that it was doing her as much good as it was him.

One night when they were lying in bed, out of nowhere Jezebel asked him "What do you suppose it would've been like if we'd known each other as kids?"

"I don't know," Methos said, "What were you like as a kid?"

"Good for nothing," Jezebel said.

"Oh well in that case we would've gotten along perfectly," he told her.

"Methos."

"What?"

There was a brief pause before she asked, "What do you think Kronos was like as a child?"

"He never told you?"

"I never asked him, he didn't like talking about his past too much, I found that the further he went back, the more it seemed to hurt him."

"Well…I think for a while, he was happy, passive…"

"Normal?" Jezebel added.

"As normal as he could ever be. I think there had to be something early in his life that was good, otherwise 800 years later when he found me, I don't think he would've been as he was."

"How do you mean?" Jezebel asked.

"He loved me, Jezebel, he was the first person in my whole life who loved me, and it wasn't for some ulterior gain, it wasn't to be dominant, he really loved me…somebody he didn't know, somebody who was more a burden than anything, only he wouldn't admit it."

"Maybe he didn't see it as being a burden," she said.

"That's about how he saw it, rather what he told me…I could never figure it out…he cared more about me than anybody else I'd known in my life up to that point, and they had to endure far less than he did in doing it…I just don't get it, Jezebel, what do you think it is?"

"Honestly? I don't know…you know it used to be said by some, that noblemen, soldiers and the such, they used to take fondly to nursing the village babies and all that sort…I think early in his life, Kronos was a nobleman of some sort. Maybe that had something to do with it…I mean in past times, the soldiers would have something about them, a…almost a maternal instinct if you will…"

"But Kronos had already had children when he met me; he said he wanted a brother."

"And you were…but don't you see, Methos, in a sense, you were the younger brother because he was the more experienced soldier, he had to protect you, he had to do what he did, there could be no other way for him…I think…I think he spent all his life wanting somebody who he could love and he knew they wouldn't hurt him. He found that in you, in the beginning you were too weak to possibly hurt him, and he gave you no reason to think he would do you any harm. He made you trust him, and with that trust came love."

"And what about me?" Methos asked, "Just how do you explain my part of it?"

"I think first it was several things…I think you loved him from the beginning, but I also think you were scared to admit it because he was stronger than you, more experienced than you and you knew if he wanted to he _could_ hurt you, might even kill you if he had a mind to…so you tried to convince yourself you were just relieved to be free, to be protected…and you would do whatever you had to do, if necessary, to keep him happy. All you had to do for that to happen was let him take care of you. You worried that it wouldn't last, that one day you would do something wrong and he would turn you away, but in time, as you grew closer and more intimate as brothers, you let go of that thought, because you finally realized you would stay with him," Jezebel explained, "I've had a long time to think about it all, and that's what I've come up with. Maybe I'm right and maybe I'm wrong, and maybe I'm both or neither, but I think I'm onto something with it."

Methos didn't respond and she looked over to his side and saw he was crying.

"What's wrong?" she asked, not sounding too surprised at all, rather as if she had been anticipating this.

"I was just thinking about those days…and Kronos," he laughed, "I don't know how Kronos ever put up with me for as long as he did. I must have drove him out of his mind plenty of times…for the longest time, I was completely dependent on him."

"I know, he told me," Jezebel said.

"Oh he did, did he? He never told me about that."

Jezebel rolled onto her side and looked at him, "Do you want to know what else he told me?"

"I don't know," Methos replied.

"He said that he loved you very much and…he enjoyed being able to take care of you for as long as he had…he had his reasons for it of course, he _did_ want a brother, an equal, but he also wanted someone he could care for…but every family he had up till you left him one way or another. With you, he knew you would last, you would survive, he could look forward to the passing years because he knew he wouldn't have to go through it alone…he liked to act like nothing in the world bothered him, but he hated being alone. Ironically enough that's why he had as little to do with people as he did, he feared getting attached and then losing them…he basically told me that when he told me about Mary."

Methos' gaze went up to the ceiling. Mary, now there was another part of his life he hadn't thought about for a while.

He felt Jezebel's hand move up his forehead. "What is it?" she asked.

"I just have to wonder, of all the people in the world that Kronos came across then, why did he have to find me? Why? And of all the things he could've done, he could've taken me to a priest, a temple, something, but he kept me. Why did he keep me?"

Jezebel reached over and snaked her arm around Methos' side and his back so he looked at her as she answered, "Because it was your destiny, Methos. It's as simple as that."

"Is it?"

"Yours and his…and looking back now, wasn't it worth it?"

Methos nodded, "For my part I think so, but I can't help but wonder if Kronos would've been better off if he hadn't taken me with them."

She looked at him coyly, what was commonly referred to as a knowing look. "Better off?"

"He'd still be alive."

Jezebel smiled in such a way that to Methos she resembled a small child with a large secret she was about to blurt out. She grabbed his hand and said, "Maybe you've just lived too long to remember, Methos, but being alive is not just anything that isn't laying stone dead. You were the only thing Kronos had to look forward to really, you were what kept him alive as long as he was."

Methos shook his head, "He thought I was dead."

"He thought you were, but he had no proof, and he wouldn't let himself accept that idea until he had it."

"But he thought you were dead too," Methos said, "And when he found out you were alive, he…"

"He cried like a baby…but Methos you forget, you weren't _there_ when Kronos found out you were still alive, you don't know _how_ he reacted, and you tell me, who does one feel closer to, his brother or his wife?"

Methos took his time to answer that question.

"You pick your wife," Jezebel told him, "You come into this life stuck with your brother…such isn't your case however, Kronos picked you too, only he didn't…not really…fate threw the two of you together and you stayed that way until you both realized what you were."

"That is?" Methos asked.

"Family."

"And what does that make us?" Methos asked.

"In-laws are family too, Methos."

"Yes, the side that's never talked about."

"I don't think we make too bad a family, or what's left of it."

"No we don't," Methos agreed.

"Remember what I said," Jezebel told him, "If you ever need to get away from MacLeod, you can come back here and stay with me."

"I appreciate the offer."

There was silence between them after that, and a cold sensation, since both knew, but neither would admit it, that Methos would be returning to Seacouver soon.

Finally Jezebel broke the silence, "It has been a nice time, hasn't it?"

Methos nodded, "It certainly has."

* * *

The next day, Jezebel didn't seem to want to stay in the house for anything. She went all around the property looking at the trees and flowers and asking Methos questions about each and every one of them. When she came upon some moonflowers that neared their opening, she decided they would sit out there that night and watch them blossom. What Methos was finding out more in every day was that Jezebel was becoming bossier and bossier the longer he was around her, so for the time being he knew that whatever she wanted, she would get.

That afternoon when Jezebel cooked a dinner for them to take out to the woods, Methos pulled a mattress off one of the beds in the guest room and dragged it out to where they would be. With Jezebel's current attitude he had an idea they'd be out there all night and he for one this century was in no mood to be resting on the rocks and thistles on the ground. And as the afternoon turned to evening, Jezebel packed a cooler with fried chicken, finger sandwiches, slices of watermelon and two bottles of wine, and the two headed out.

Time passed, soon the food was eaten and the sky was turning colors. Jezebel had had a bit too much wine and was about two steps away from passed out. She had fallen back on the mattress and even though her eyes were open she didn't seem to be looking at anything.

"Are they opening yet?" she asked.

"Not quite," Methos replied.

"But they will soon, right?" she asked.

"I think so," he said.

"Good," she slurred, "That's good. Methos?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you really have to go back?"

The question he knew she wouldn't ask if she were sober. "Yes. Unfortunately, I do."

"I don't want you to leave," she said.

"I know, I don't want to either, but I have to."

She nodded, "I know you do…that's the thing about you, Methos…you _always_ did what you had to do."

"No matter who it hurt," Methos added.

"Now," Jezebel pushed herself up to look at him, "Kronos for example, when you left him he was angry, _but_ you had to leave and you knew it. And then when you killed Kronos, that was also something you had to do and you knew it…people just need to stop getting angry at other people when they do something…when it's something they need to do. It may hurt the other people but in the long run they need to realize when the benefit outweighs the cost."

Methos smiled, Jezebel it seemed could be more charming when she wasn't all there. "How are you feeling, Jezebel?"

"A little tired," she fell back against the mattress, "I'm going to lay down for a while, wake me up when the flowers start to open."

"I will."

Methos ran a hand through her hair as she closed her eyes. He could almost swear with every passing day he saw more and more of just _why_ Kronos married her. She was a lot of things that Kronos was but also a lot of things he wasn't. She drank a bit too much, he couldn't deny that, but then again he'd never met an Immortal who _didn't_ after all the time they spent wondering why they were still alive. Also he noted with every passing day she became a bit more pushy, bossier than the day before…but he guessed he could understand it, they hadn't seen each other for thousands of years prior to this…during which time she was undoubtedly pushed around a lot so she started pushing back on the only people she knew she could.

As he thought about it, a disturbing idea came to his mind. That's what Kronos did too…maybe he wasn't even aware of it at the time but he pushed at Methos, and he pushed him and he pushed him until one day he just pushed Methos away entirely…only at the time neither were aware of it. But there was something in Kronos at the end of the Horsemen's reign that Methos just couldn't stand being around him anymore. Kronos wasn't even aware that it had happened, somehow it just did. Perhaps it was true, he thought, about what was said regarding people hurting the most the people they loved. That had certainly been the case with them all those thousands of years ago.

He _didn't_ like the fact that he'd have to return to Seacouver soon, but he also knew he couldn't stay out here forever. So for the time being, he decided, he was just going to relax, and enjoy these last few days with Jezebel.

More time passed, the sun set towards the west and it got darker out, he became aware that Jezebel was looking up at him.

"What is it?" she asked soberly.

He smiled and replied, "Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Oh," she said, "What are the flowers doing?"

He grabbed her hand and pulled her up so she could see the flowers as they began to open. It took less than two minutes, but to Jezebel it was worth the two-hour waiting period to watch the little white and blue blooms open.

"It's been a long time since I've seen moonflowers," she told Methos, "They open by night and the morning glories open at dawn and then look wilted the rest of the day, until the next daybreak. Aren't flowers funny?"

"They're not the only things," Methos replied.

"True, people are funny too," Jezebel added, "People are probably the most complex of all God's creatures in this world. We need more than bugs and wind and hail to hurt us necessarily…and yet we allow ourselves to hurt over so much less. Do you think people will ever be able to figure it out?"

"Figure what out?" Methos asked.

"The secret behind man…what makes people do the things they do."

"Maybe, sometime, somewhere…another thousand years maybe," Methos said.

"I'll be here," she said.

Methos kissed her and responded, "Me too."

* * *

Methos woke up when he felt something damp. He looked up and saw the moon was still out, and oh was it bright. A lot of the stars were out as well. He guessed it was sometime after midnight, and here they both were, still on the mattress under the trees. Looking over his shoulder he saw Jezebel was curled on her side, sound asleep. He laid back and was about to go back to sleep himself when he felt something wet fall on him again.

"Jezebel, wake up."

"What is it?" she tiredly asked as she sat up.

"Do you feel that?"

"Feel what?"

"It's raining."

"Where?" she looked around.

"That's just the thing, the stars are out and it's raining on me."

"Probably just a little cloud let loose," Jezebel said as she turned back on her side, "You don't always see them at night. Give it a minute and it'll run dry."

"You know something," Methos said, "You look kind of cute right about now."

"I know," she replied, "Once I tried getting my picture put on a brand of postcards, but they said I didn't have the sort of face people wanted to associate with a trusted company."

Methos laughed and lay down beside her again. "You know, this is pretty nice out here."

"I'll say it is," Jezebel agreed, "It's the air…I can always sleep out in the open when I take in the air…but I guess that happens after all the years I've spent in the open."

"Well let's face it," Methos said, "_Any_ time you can take in fresh air it's relaxing."

"Almost intoxicating really," Jezebel added, "Works better than a sedative, that's for damn sure."

All her words were slurred by now so he knew she was right. With the moonlight shining on them, he kissed her and bid her goodnight.

"Goodnight," Jezebel responded.

* * *

A couple weeks later, Richie was at the bar talking to Joe about Mac. Over the last few weeks, not much had seemed to be right with the man. He seemed to be himself but he hadn't been sleeping well and he kept acting like somebody was talking to him when nobody was.

"I don't know what to make of it, Joe," Richie said, "I'm afraid Mac might be finally losing his mind."

"We'll see," Joe replied, "He's supposed to come in here soon."

"Joe, what if he is?" Richie asked, "What if he has gone crazy? What do we do then? I know what I said to him before but I don't think I could kill him."

"I know, Richie…now tell me again just what's been going on when you went to see him?"

"I don't know how to explain it," Richie said, "I go over, and things are broken, ashtrays, vases, I ask him what happened, he said he doesn't know. I look around the place and he starts saying "What?" when I haven't said a word. I go over early in the morning, late at night, he's never in bed, that bed hasn't been slept in, as far as I know, for a week. I'm worried, Joe, I mean I'm _really_ worried about him."

It was then that Richie felt the all too familiar sensation in the back of his head.

"Well here he comes now," Joe said.

Richie turned around and saw Duncan come in. At first glance he looked rather normal, but as he came up close to the two other men, it was obvious he had not been resting well.

"Hey, Mac," Richie said.

"What's new?" Joe asked.

"Nothing," Duncan replied, "Have you heard from Methos yet?"

"Not a word," Joe answered, "It's like he's dropped off the face of the earth."

"How are you feeling, Mac?" Richie asked.

"I'm fine," he answered as he sat down next to Richie.

"Liar," Kronos said, "Keep telling yourself that and maybe you'll start to believe it."

"No offense," Joe said, "But you look like death ran you over."

"That's right," Kronos said though nobody heard him, "And tonight I'm going to back over him and run him over again."

"I've had a little trouble sleeping lately," Duncan explained.

"And you're going to have a hell of a lot more trouble tonight," Kronos said, "You can't get away from me, MacLeod, I know where you live and my residence is your subconscious. I'm going to stay and drive you crazy until the day you rot. I'm going to…"

His idea was cut off by what he saw out the door. He left the bar and went out to meet Methos though by now even his own brother couldn't see him.

"Oh Methos, my dearest brother, so good to have you back, you look like hell," he said.

Methos never stopped or made any indication that he knew Kronos was beside him, but of course Kronos knew he wouldn't. So he walked alongside Methos and continued to talk to him while Methos was completely oblivious to it.

"I'm just saying, Mac," Richie said, "I think…"

He stopped in mid-sentence as both he and Duncan felt another Immortal coming. Richie turned to the door and saw him.

"It's Methos!"

"Oh Dear God," Duncan said.

Methos opened the door and took a step inside. "Candygram."

Almost immediately he was nearly pummeled by Richie and Joe who dragged him up to the bar to get a better look at him.

"How've you been?" Joe asked.

"Did you have a good time?" Richie asked.

"I tell you," Methos said as he peeled off his trenchcoat, "Kronos surprises me, even now he surprises me. It blows my mind that he could've prepared that house and that land for Jezebel the way he did."

"Well we're just glad to have you back," Joe said.

"And how are things going with you?" Methos asked.

"Rather dull since you left."

"I missed you too, old friend," Methos said as he wrapped his arms around Joe and knocked the wind out of him.

"Relax, relax!" Joe said, "You were just down one state, it wasn't the space shuttle."

"No…it was nice but it did get lonely after a while, Jezebel's more of a recluse than I am if you can believe it," Methos told them.

"I can believe it," Joe replied, "How else does somebody live 4,000 years and we have no records?"

"Well we're glad to have you back," Richie said as he stepped next to Methos and locked his arms around Methos' back.

For a moment Methos wasn't sure what was going on until Richie whispered in his ear, "Maybe you can help Mac, I think he's going crazy."

Methos could hear the sincerity in Richie's voice, and looking over at MacLeod who was the only one of the three who hadn't even attempted to welcome him back, not that it surprised him much, he could tell that the Scot had seen better days. Richie walked past them with some excuse of needing to be somewhere to meet somebody and he was gone. Joe headed for his office, leaving the two Immortals alone to speak to each other.

Now more than before, Methos felt his heart in his throat. Why, he didn't know…he was certain the last time he had talked to MacLeod that everything was on the level but now he wasn't so sure.

"Mind if I sit down?" he asked.

"Go ahead," MacLeod grumbled.

Methos sat down at the bar stool next to MacLeod. Getting a better look at the younger man, Methos could tell he did look terrible.

"How've you been?" Methos asked.

"I'm…I'm okay, and you?" he replied.

"I'm fine."

"You look terrible," Methos said, "Did something happen while I was gone?"

MacLeod looked down at the counter, almost as if he were ashamed to face Methos.

"No," he quietly replied, "Nothing happened."

"Is Richie okay?"

"Yes."

"Amanda?"

"Yes."

"What about Joe?"

"Yes, Methos, they're all fine."

"So why do you look like me?" Methos asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Like death."

MacLeod wouldn't answer, he wouldn't even raise his eyes to look at Methos.

"MacLeod."

"What?"

"I have a question..."

For the first time, MacLeod lifted his head and turned his gaze to Methos.

"Am I still welcome in your loft?" Methos asked, "After all that time I spent with Jezebel, I don't know that I'm ready to go back to my empty apartment just yet."

Whether or not Methos had asked it simply to make MacLeod laugh, it did the trick.

"Sure," Duncan said as he got up, "Sure, come on."

"Thank you," Methos replied.


	12. Chapter 12

Author's note: Well folks, here we are finally, the end of the story. This one hasn't dragged on as long as "Dearest Brother" but it's been as much a joy to write, and I hope for those who have read it, it's been as much a pleasure to read. Once again, much thanks to Shadow3418, who was a very strong reason in why I finished this story.

Neither said a word to the other on the way back to the dojo, and Methos wasn't sure whether to take that as a good sign or a bad one. On the way over, Methos got a better look at MacLeod. He looked terrible, it was obvious he hadn't slept in a while, he looked like he belonged on enough tranquilizers to kill a horse, along with in a straitjacket and a padded cell. When they reached the dojo, Methos decided to try and get MacLeod to talk, of course he knew that could be as easy as talking to a brick wall.

"Looks like not much has changed since I left," Methos said.

"It hasn't," MacLeod replied as they headed up to the loft.

"No new enemies?" Methos commented.

"No."

"Just the same old ones?"

MacLeod opened the door and they walked in.

"I see you're still up to your old sarcasm," MacLeod replied.

Methos removed his coat and sat down. "MacLeod, why don't you just cut to the chase and tell me what's the matter with you? Don't say nothing, I can tell, MacLeod, everybody can."

Duncan sat down across from Methos and said, "I don't know, Methos, I honestly don't know what's wrong…all I do know is that I'm scared. Everybody thinks I'm going crazy, maybe I am. Ever since you left I've had these horrible nightmares, I see things, hear things…"

"What sort of nightmares?" Methos asked.

"I don't know how to explain it…sometimes I see you, thousands of years ago…and then other times, I'm in your place and I'm…" MacLeod shook his head as he remembered the horror, "It always feels so real that I don't know what's going on anymore…and then I wake up and feel like I've never slept, and I dread going to sleep the next night for fear the nightmares will come again, and they do."

Methos felt a dreaded and familiar sensation inside of himself. He had a very good guess as to what was causing these nightmares, and without saying a word, he cursed his brother.

"I hate to tell you this, MacLeod," Methos said, "But that happened because you took Kronos' Quickening." MacLeod looked at him and started to speak but Methos cut him off, "You couldn't have known it would happen…I probably should have seen it coming, but I had no way of knowing anything for certain. Kronos was over 4,000 years old and he kept a lot of it to himself, I guess the only way it could come out was in his death."

"Methos, there's something I have to know," Duncan said.

"What is it?"

"In the beginning…what was Kronos? What was he to you?"

"Oh boy, serious questions, eh? Well let's see…when I first met him, he…he rescued me…he gave me back my life, he _gave_ me life. He protected me when I couldn't fight and he saw to it that I would again fight. I think in the beginning…I was sort of his pet, I know that doesn't sound good on either of our parts but…it's not really something you can understand if you weren't there. He…he loved me, more than anybody up to that point in my life ever had…I think he was the first. That doesn't sound good either, that the first person to ever love you would become the leader of the Four Horsemen, but that's how it was. I needed somebody to take care of me, and he needed somebody to care for, we both got in each other what we spent hundreds of years suffering without. I think he loved me as much as…well as much as you do Connor, maybe more, _definitely_ more than you do Richie."

"What happened to him?" Duncan asked, "What made him the way he was?"

Methos shook his head grimly, "I wish I knew. Honest to God, MacLeod, I wish I knew, I spent 2,000 years wondering the exact same thing, I don't know…he was always a murderous bastard as long as I knew him, but he didn't start to become horrible until after…I don't want to talk about it."

Methos about jumped out of his skin and fell on the floor at the horrible sound that followed that, a second later he realized what it was. MacLeod was crying, Lord, it seemed he was doing more and more of this. On his knees, Methos moved over to MacLeod and asked him what was the matter.

"I just feel terrible about what I put you through," Duncan said, "I've been a complete ass through this whole thing."

Methos patted MacLeod's hand and looked the other way. If Duncan wanted an argument he was going to have to change the subject.

"I'm sorry, Methos…really I am…I know I hurt you, I knew it at the time but I didn't think that…"

That was the Scot's problem, where Cassandra was involved he _didn't_ think, he let her do the thinking for him. Methos pulled MacLeod into his arms and held him tightly for a moment.

"It's okay, MacLeod, it's over."

"I'm worried, Methos…I'm worried that it's not over, not for me anyway…what if these nightmares don't go away?"

"Oh they will, MacLeod, they will," Methos assured him.

He pulled the younger man into an even tighter embrace so he wouldn't see Methos as he, without a word, threatened his deceased brother.

Methos saw Kronos standing near the wall, he looked at the two of them but didn't say anything. With a slight smile curving on his face, Kronos disappeared and at that moment, Methos knew things would soon be in the clear.

"It's allright, MacLeod, it's over."

"You really think so?"

Methos smiled in spite of himself, "I'm positive."

* * *

Eventually MacLeod calmed down, and after dinner he excused himself and said he needed to get a shower. When he was alone he was finally able to think, and the relief that washed over him now was so immense, it felt like a boulder had been lifted off his chest. Something weird had been happening to him ever since Methos had left town, and now that Methos was back and they seemed to have everything resolved, it felt like his life was finally getting back to normal. Maybe now, everything would end, the nightmares, hearing Kronos' voice late at night taunting him, to say nothing of everything that had been hitting him in the head.

Maybe now, he also thought, he'd finally be able to face Richie and Joe again without feeling that they thought he was going crazy. Maybe now _he'd_ stop thinking he was going crazy. The more Duncan was able to think about it all, the more he came to the conclusion that he hated himself. He had pushed Methos away the first time, when Kronos came around, and then he pushed Methos away again after Kronos and the other Horsemen were dead. He pushed and pushed and pushed and yet somehow, for some reason at the end of it all, Methos came back. Why did he come back? Why did anybody he pushed away come back?

The others he could guess, Richie came back because they had been friends and he had also been the boy's teacher, almost his father. And Joe, he came back partly because it was his job and also because the two had been through a lot together and despite their differences _could_ understand each other. Connor came back because they were family and family was the hardest thing to stay away from. But why did Methos come back? He didn't know, and he didn't figure he should ask either. He was glad that Methos did come back, he didn't want to risk ruining whatever there was between them by asking why.

After he dried off and got dressed, he left the bathroom and saw something that stopped him in his tracks. Methos lay asleep in one side of his bed. MacLeod almost laughed at the sight of it. He entered the room and Methos woke up and tiredly looked at MacLeod through one eye.

"Do you mind?" Methos asked.

At first MacLeod didn't know what to say. Finally he managed to get out, "No, I don't mind."

However Methos could tell he was hesitant about it. "Don't worry, MacLeod," he replied smugly, "I don't think the neighbors will talk."

"It's not that…are you feeling allright?"

"I'm just tired, it's been a long day," Methos said.

"It has for me too…why didn't you tell us you were coming back today?"

"Well, MacLeod," Methos answered, "To be honest I hadn't really planned it…when you go out there, you don't _plan_ coming back even if you intend to. I left on a spur of the moment, otherwise I'd probably never come home."

"It's that nice?" Duncan asked as he slipped into the other side of the bed.

"Oh it's very nice, someday you'll have to come with me and see it for yourself," Methos told him.

"I might…do you think Jezebel would mind?"

"I don't think she would as much as having to stay at my apartment for a visit," he said, "Though if you want to sweeten the deal with her, you better bring Richie when you go, she likes him."

"She doesn't like me, does she?" MacLeod asked.

"Not in the least," Methos answered.

"I didn't think so."

"She doesn't know, though."

"Know what?" Duncan asked.

"That it was you who killed Kronos and not me."

Both men were silent after that comment. MacLeod broke the silence after a minute saying, "Do you think she'd come for my head if she knew?"

"I don't know, I wouldn't think so, but I don't know…she seemed to be very understanding when I told her _why_ Kronos was killed…but if she knew it wasn't done within the 'family', I don't know how she'd take it. That's why I told her I did it, if she chose to take my head, fine."

Duncan bolted up in bed when he heard that. "You offered her your head?"

"Not in so many words," Methos replied, "When she heard what I'd done, she didn't do anything, I moved for her sword, but she stopped me."

"Good Lord, Methos."

"I figured she'd kill me anyway so what did it matter? Boy was I wrong. You mean Richie didn't tell you?"

"No, tell me what?"

"Well he was worried that she _would_ kill me, because this was all before we left town, and I told Joe where to find all my papers, including some instructions of where to put my body if I died…but when I realized she didn't want my head, I told them to forget about it all, but I thought he might tell you."

Duncan was in shock when he heard that. "Why do you put yourself through so much?"

"Somebody has to," Methos replied.

"Sometimes you scare me," Duncan said.

"That's allright, sometimes I scare myself," Methos told him.

Duncan quieted down after that and turned away. Methos lay on his back and looked up to the ceiling. "Duncan?"

"What?"

"I love you…you've been a good friend."

There was silence from MacLeod's side of the bed and Methos wondered if he should've have kept what he said to himself. And then, MacLeod responded.

"No I'm not, I've been horrible."

"Yes you have been but in spite of it all you've still been a good friend. It is possible to be one and still have your own share of faults. It's just that you don't consider that possibility, which is why you said we were through. All the while you've your own dirty little secrets and I don't judge you about them."

MacLeod seemed to be interested, "Like what?"

Grinning, Methos leaned over and whispered in MacLeod's ear a secret Kronos had told him a long time ago from one of MacLeod's memories. Duncan turned to face him and even in the dark Methos could see his face go white.

"How did you know that? I haven't…I haven't thought about that for over 300 years."

"Oh I have my ways," Methos replied, "So you see I could just as easily condemn you for what you did a long time ago…but I choose not to. When I was off in Oregon with Jezebel, she said something that made a lot of sense."

"What's that?"

"Mankind is the most intelligent and simultaneously the dumbest breed of creatures to ever walk this earth. We take a lot more to hurt than all the other beasts, but we allow ourselves to be hurt by much less, a mere matter of words and facts that can't be undone, and we become enemies for life. We have a great potential to _prove_ we're smarter than the animals and we don't seem to take it too often."

Methos could almost hear the corners of MacLeod's mouth turn up as he laughed. "Jezebel sounds like a pretty smart woman."

"Well why not? She was married to Kronos after all, and if there was anything he needed, it was a smart woman by his side, and for a while, he had that. For a while, he had everything, but nothing lasts forever, not even Immortals…we just get used to the idea that we will," Methos said, "I tried to explain that to him once, but by that time he was so far gone, I don't think he could believe me even if he wanted to."

Methos turned away from MacLeod and laid on his side. Duncan reached over and ran his hand over Methos' back, "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine. I just miss him, hard as it is to believe, I miss him. Of course, I think that's something even _you_ can understand."

Duncan nodded but didn't say anything, he remembered the hurt of being turned away by his own father after becoming Immortal, being shunned by the whole clan. And he knew that no matter what happened in his pre-immortal life, it couldn't measure up to what Methos felt to two thousand years with Kronos as a brother. In all the time Methos had been gone, Duncan had thought plenty about that dream he'd had the night before they left. He remembered feeling exactly what Methos must have felt in his years as a slave, he remembered the horror of seeing the gaunt and broken body that was his friend, thousands of years younger and suffering a living hell every moment he was alive. For Kronos to take him away from that and as Methos had put it, give him life…it blew his mind to think, even though he knew it just had to be, that Kronos was once…normal.

Then he remembered what Kronos said to him that night, in the dream.

"_For four thousand years, Methos was __my__ brother, I fought for him, I killed for him, I bled for him and I __died__ for him. I love him very much, I always have, I always will. Right now what matters to me is that he's happy and for some foolish reason I can't figure, he seems to have taken a liking to you as a friend. Some friend, one who twists the dagger as he jams it into the heart, to watch my brother crumble…well now you've got a chance to not repeat that mistake. Learn this lesson well, Highlander, if you __ever__ do anything to hurt him again, I'll give you a fate worse than death."_

Duncan could've sworn Methos was asleep, and maybe he was wrong for it but he did something he couldn't get himself up to doing while Methos was awake. He leaned over and kissed Methos on the side of his head and whispered, "I love you too, Methos."

He turned on his side and went to sleep. A few minutes later, Methos opened his eyes and sat up and stroked through MacLeod's hair and whispered, though the thought of what he was about to say made it hard for him not to laugh, "Goodnight, little brother."

Methos looked to the window and felt the cool night breeze come in and it reminded him of Oregon, and before he went to sleep he added, "Goodnight, Jezebel."

What he didn't know was at that same time, several hundred miles away, Jezebel lay in bed with the night breeze blowing in her windows and she listened to the song of an old chime blowing in the wind and it reminded her of her brother in law, and right before she went to sleep she said though nobody was there to hear it, "Goodnight, Methos." Then she turned to her side and said to the empty side of the bed, "Goodnight, Kronos."

* * *

Methos woke up alone at 6:20 the next morning. He got up and made the bed and was getting ready to leave when he felt another Immortal nearby.

"It's just me," Duncan said as he came in the door, "I…what are you doing?"

"I'm getting ready to go home," Methos replied.

"Do you _have_ to go back right now?"

"If I don't go back to my apartment now, I have an idea I'll stay here until I wear out my welcome," he replied.

"It's still early."

"I know…but I've been gone for quite a while, I have some things at home I have to take care of…I'll be back later," Methos told him.

"But Methos…"

"I'll be fine, MacLeod…now the question is are _you_ going to be allright once I'm gone?"

Already Methos could see a vast improvement in MacLeod now as opposed to how he looked yesterday when they came back. In fact Methos would guess that last night was the first night in a long time where he'd actually been able to lie down and rest.

"I'll be fine," MacLeod answered.

"Good, then I'll be going," Methos said, "See you later."

And just like that, he was gone. That was nothing new, he was always leaving. And yet, MacLeod wondered sometimes if once Methos left, if he ever had any intention of coming back, or if it just happened by fate.

* * *

At 7 o' clock, Methos had no sooner set foot in his apartment when the phone rang. Surely it couldn't be MacLeod already, but then Methos knew better, _yes_ it could. What did he want now?

"Hello?"

"Did I wake you up?"

It was Jezebel.

"Oh no, I'm just getting in."

"Just getting in? Where were you last night? On a date?"

"No, I spent the night with MacLeod."

"Damn…maybe you'll have better luck finding someone tonight."

"How are things going?" Methos asked.

"Oh they're fine, fine…it's very quiet now that you're not here, but I like it…gives me some time to actually sit down and think. I trust there wasn't a firing squad waiting for you when you got back."

"Oh no, everybody seemed rather pleased to have me home again," Methos explained.

"That's good…I want you to know that something's going to be coming for you soon in the mail," Jezebel told him.

"What is it?"

"Well now if I told you that it wouldn't be any fun, would it?" Jezebel asked.

Methos laughed, "Are you having a good time?"

"Terrific, it's stopped raining for a while so I'm going to go ahead with my plans of growing some crops and seeing what happens."

"Good luck with that."

"I'll need it, I told you before I kill everything I plant, I'm hoping now that I've got some good property go grow it on, I'll have better luck," she said, "So how is everybody there?"

"Everybody's fine."

"That's good. Maybe I ought to hang up now and let you get around for the day. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay," Methos replied, "Goodbye."

"Bye."

* * *

That phone call was the last Methos heard from Jezebel for a few days. In the meantime everything seemed to return to normal. MacLeod was certainly in a better bill of health than he was before. His nightmares seemed to finally be at an end and as far as everybody knew, things had quit breaking in the loft after hitting him. Every day they all met at Joe's bar while Methos explained more of what all was found in Kronos' possessions. One day when Duncan, Methos and Joe were waiting for Richie to show up, he arrived carrying a box.

"I went over to your apartment but you weren't there and this was outside the door so I thought I should bring it here," he explained.

Methos took the box and saw it was addressed to Adam Pierson from Jewell Zamora.

"This must be the something she was talking about," he said as he opened the box.

Everything was carefully packed so nothing shook and nothing broke. He took out two bottles of wine, a sealed envelope with his name on it, a small box in which he found two opened moonflowers, one very familiar old gun, and Richie took out of the box an old misshapen piece of metal.

"What's this?" he asked.

Methos snatched it away from him and said, "Don't ask."

Joe picked up the envelope and looked it over. "Aren't you going to open this?"

"Might as well, no point in delaying the bad news," Methos said as he took it.

Opening it up he took out a folded letter, and something slipped out of the letter and onto the counter. Picking it up, Methos couldn't believe what he saw.

"What is it?" Richie asked.

Methos laughed, "My guess would be a check for my attorney services."

He handed it over to Richie who whistled at the amount, "Fifteen thousand dollars, sounds pretty good to me."

Methos grunted and replied, "The gag's going to be on her, first thing tomorrow I'm sending it back."

"Why?" Richie asked, "She can certainly afford wasting it on you, she's a rich woman now."

"I may not look the part," Methos told him, "But I'm no vagabond myself."

"Well…" Duncan started.

"Shut up, MacLeod."

"Well what's the letter say?" Joe asked.

Methos unfolded the letter and as he read it over, his humor disappeared while his good disposition did not. It read:

Dear Methos,

Am having a wonderful time out here in the Oregon Territory. I've enclosed a check for your unmentioned attorney's fees. Don't try sending it back. I've also sent a few of Kronos' belongings thinking perhaps you'll get more of a kick out of them than I do. I've also sent some of the moonflowers that have been coming up like weeds for the last week. I've also sent along an old wind chime I found hanging from one of the bedroom windows. When the wind blows at night it makes for a very relaxing sound, maybe it'll help you when you can't sleep. Anyway, I wanted to say thank you for helping me get what and where I got right now. You helped me become one very happy old lady by ensuring this new start in my life with this inheritance and I'll never forget it.

Yours truly,

The Heiress

Suddenly Methos felt as if every bone in his body had melted into some kind of goo, and he felt like the original sap.

"Well what's it say?" Richie asked.

Smiling in spite of himself, Methos folded the letter back up, and suddenly he felt he knew what was at the bottom of the letter Jezebel found from Kronos. And that made him feel like the cat who had swallowed the canary, and he answered in such a way that they would think the same of him.

"Nobody here's old enough to know," he told them.

He ignored their protests and tucked the letter away. This was one secret he liked the idea of keeping from MacLeod and the others.

"Well, Joe," he said as he picked up one of the wine bottles, "What do you think?

"Who made it?" Joe asked.

"Kronos."

"…Have you had it?"

"Yes."

"And you survived?"

"More than tolerably."

"Allright, what do you say, Mac?" Joe asked as he took the bottle.

"I…sure, why not?"

"If you survived," Richie said to Methos, "What's the worst that can happen?"

Joe poured them four glasses and while he'd told them it was allright, Methos knew the others still suspected there being something wrong with it. One last shock from the End of Time, but the joke would be on them.

"Are we drinking to anything?" Richie asked.

"I think it's in order," Methos said and he raised his glass, "To finality and closure…to being able to come home again…to good friends who are the only things that can stand the test of time…and finally, all the luck in the world to my good friend, the Heiress, who finally after 4,000 years has a place in this world where she belongs. I hope all goes well for her, and I hope that I may see her again in this life, and…I hope it's soon, so that the mistakes made with my dear brother will not have to be repeated with her, and the same opportunities lost on her." With nothing but the utmost somberness in his voice he finished, "To everything that makes life worth living, I drink."

The End


End file.

Highlander