Lost

Chapter 23

Methos watched as the men approached him, followed by a slow-moving car. “Seems we’ve done this before...” His sarcastic comment was stilled by the flush of Presence. He looked around and saw Connor sauntering up. Bloody hell...!

Connor looked around him again. He finally spotted the two men following him. Well, no time like the present. He moved towards Pierson and saw two more men approach him. Well, well, what timing. Looks like he was going to crash the party...

Methos saw the two men following Connor, no longer bothering to hide themselves. “What are you doing here, Connor?” The last thing Methos wanted was to see Duncan’s face when he knew Connor saw him.

“I’ve been waiting for an invitation, but it seems you’ve forgotten me. I decided to crash your little party...” Connor smirked at the four men standing near them.

One of the men finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Mr. MacLeod, but our orders are to bring Dr. Pierson only. I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask you to take a nap while you await his return.” Slight smile...who knew they had a sense of humor, even if it wasn’t much.

“Doctor? What are you a doctor of? English history?” Connor smirked again.

“Ha, ha...it’s linguistics, if you must know.”

“Gentlemen, please. Dr. Pierson, please come with us. Mr. MacLeod, you must remain here.” said with a gesture to two of the men to take MacLeod.

Connor seeing the men move swung around, a gun magically appearing in his hand. What better tool to use with a mortal? All four men raised their hands. “I would truly like to see my kinsman...” Looking at Pierson, “linguistics, huh? So you’ll understand what I’m saying...” Looking back at the men who had yet to move, “let’s hope you also understand...I’m going with you. Okay?”

Just then a sharp retort had Methos dropping to his knees. Connor, on the other hand, let the gun drop from his fingers as he pitched forward into the arms of one of the men. It wasn’t much of a surprise to Methos to find that his long-distance friends were still with him. But now he had to make sure it didn’t occur to them to eliminate Connor. Why couldn’t this have stayed simple?

“Look, we all know where we’re going, so you needn’t drug me, okay? You can take him with us...in fact, maybe you could call Lacasse and ask to bring him along...” The man looked at him and then at Connor’s body now laying on the ground and nodded. They were quickly relieved of their weapons and pushed into the waiting car.

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Duncan glanced up from the page he was reading as Andre moved his hand further up his skirt, his fingers idly stroking the soft skin of his inner thigh. Right now they both relaxed in the library, Andre reading business documents while Duncan read an historical novel, one of the new books Louisa had brought for him. He was surprised that she would buy him books since Andre’s library was huge but he had nevertheless been deeply touched. Andre had also seemed interested and had looked them over quite thoroughly. Duncan thought about that for a moment. It was as though Andre had been looking for something specific in the books but just what, he wasn’t sure. Seemingly satisfied he’d handed them back but said nothing more.

Ever since Andre had reaffirmed his ownership after the ride with Stefan he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off Duncan. He was constantly touching him in some way. Duncan had never felt like more of a possession than at those moments. And after the aborted swim...it was almost as though Andre was also treating him with some tenderness. The thought sickened him...he’d rather have Andre’s brutality than his love...but then, it wasn’t as though he had a choice in anything in his life. Pushing those thoughts away, he returned to his book and steadfastly ignored the hand that stroked and petted him. The hand moved away as Madame Broussard came to the door to announce a phone call.

Andre stood and moved to the desk. After a few hushed words he returned to the couch but only to put his reading aside. “Sarah, we are about to have some visitors. I’ve asked Dr. Pierson to come by so that I may speak with him...”

Duncan’s eyes widened at Andre’s announcement, he leapt from the couch, a hand going to his mouth as the other wrapped itself around his stomach. Oh, God...not again! He looked up at Andre in horror. “Asking him to come by, God Andre, call it what it is...you’ve kidnapped him again! Why, Andre? What have I done?”

“Calm down, princess, you’ve done nothing! I merely want to talk to him about a little gathering they had at the barge...”

Duncan shook his head, his confusion clear. Gathering? Who...? The question was stopped at his lips by Andre’s finger.

“We’ll find out, my sweet, but I wanted you to know that Dr. Pierson is not alone.” Andre watched in fascination for Sarah’s reaction. “It seems your kinsman has a strong desire to see you and has invited himself.” Andre watched as the color drained from Sarah’s face, intense distress suffusing her entire countenance. And again, Andre wondered why he took no particular enjoyment from the display. He brought Sarah into his arms and kissed her forehead, steadfastly ignoring the stiffness in her body. After a few minutes he again led her to the couch to await their visitors.

Andre looked up as he saw Sarah sit up straight. Her hands twisted together in her lap as Andre watched the telltale signs warning of an approaching immortal. He stood and brought Sarah up with him, his arm around Sarah’s waist. After a quiet knock, the door opened to reveal the two immortals.

Methos walked in and despite knowing what he’d see, still felt a mild shock at Duncan’s appearance. His surprise, however, was nothing compared to that of his companion based on the hiss and muttered Gaelic curse. Duncan was dressed in a slim black skirt, wide belt and deep magenta blouse. His hair was pinned in a French roll with curled wisps around his face. He was lovely. But the possessive arm Lacasse had around his waist made his blood boil.

“Welcome, gentlemen. Dr. Pierson, what a pleasure to see you again.” Andre noted the imperious nod of Pierson’s head as he acknowledged the greeting but his attention was on the furious countenance of Pierson’s companion and vowed to watch him closely. “And this, I assume, is Mr. Connor MacLeod. Welcome.”

Connor couldn’t take his eyes off Duncan, noting that he had yet to look up from the floor. Despite the bowed head he could see the shame on his kinsman’s face. Duncan! It was as Pierson had said...Duncan was a woman in this house. But not for long. “Donnchadh,” Connor spoke quietly in Gaelic, “you need have no shame in my presence. I know your honor and love for your family hold you here and nothing that is done through force can be held against you, my kinsman...”

Andre felt more than heard the sob that tore through Sarah as Connor gently spoke in the odd-sounding language. Without questioning his motivation, Andre pushed Sarah towards her kinsman and watched as she fell into Connor’s arms.

Methos closed his eyes in relief at Connor’s words...Duncan needed to hear that from the man he held in such high esteem. And although he wondered why Lacasse let Duncan have this, he was grateful. He reached out to hold Duncan’s hand as he was cradled in Connor’s arms.

“As much as I hate to break up this family reunion, Sarah, gentlemen, I ask that you please have a seat.” Andre gestured towards two chairs that had been brought closer.

Connor pushed Duncan upright though he was still murmuring quiet words of encouragement. Duncan nodded and finally looked up, though he still didn’t quite look Connor in the eye. He felt Andre’s hand on his arm as he was led to the couch to sit. However, despite Connor’s words he couldn’t help but feel shame at this situation, at being seen like this. He sat with his knees pressed tightly together as he wrapped his arms around himself. His pained self-containment was the complete opposite of Andre who gracefully sat on the couch next to him, completely relaxed as he eyed his two guests now seated in chairs across from him. Laughing slightly, Andre reached out and placed his hand on Duncan’s knee, sliding his fingers in between the stiff limbs.

Methos expected the show of possessiveness which was undoubtedly more for Connor’s sake than his own. He schooled his features not to react but heard the angry hiss from the man next to him, watched as Duncan cringed at the touch and seemed to shrink even more into a little ball of shame as Lacasse idly caressed him. Whatever generous mood Lacasse had found himself in earlier had apparently vanished. He hoped it had nothing to do with Louisa’s visit to his bookstore. He’d given her some books to cover her surprising visit but he was still unsure just what Lacasse knew. It was time to shift everyone’s attention.

“So,” he began, “To what do we owe this honor?” Methos gave his best innocent look.

Andre smirked at Pierson’s expression. “I merely wanted to know what your little get-together the other evening was about...you can’t expect me to believe that it was all for Ryan’s birthday...?”

Methos smiled innocently. “But that is exactly what it was...we were all together for the reading of Duncan’s will which happened to coincide with the young man’s birthday. It seemed appropriate...”

My will... Duncan closed his eyes. He could never have envisioned this situation when he had revised it a year ago. So be it...he would no longer need possessions after his release from this hell.

Andre, too, considered the reading of Sarah’s will...but more in terms of himself. He needed to make some of his own changes. Looking over at Sarah, he noted her frown and her tightly held arms. Pierson and MacLeod, too, were watching their friend, concern evident in their intense gazes. An idea started to formulate in his head, not one he particularly liked at the moment, but something to consider...and it could have its uses... He stood and walked over to Connor.

“So what fine gifts did young Ryan receive from you, Mr. MacLeod?” Andre still didn’t trust that the birthday was all that was discussed. He was sure all of Sarah’s family was aware of her status.

“A pocketknife...what is that to you, Lacasse?” Connor eyed the huge man and wondered why he’d chosen Duncan for his twisted manipulations. It was obvious he thought they were planning a rescue attempt and that the party was a cover. Although he was quite right, there was no need to confirm it.

“I merely want to ensure you know the ramifications of any heroic attempts on your part. You obviously knew your kinswoman was alive otherwise you wouldn’t have insisted on joining Dr. Pierson on this visit. Do all of Sarah’s associates know her status?”

“No, only Connor knows of Duncan’s status,” Methos answered for him, emphasizing the name. They had already decided that Connor would be the only one to “officially” know about Duncan. “As Duncan’s kinsman and the only other immortal I trust with Duncan’s welfare, I wanted him to know what help Duncan would need once you release him.” Most of it the truth...Connor was the only one he could trust to keep Duncan safe should Methos fail. His gut twisted knowing what his words might do to Duncan. But there was no help for it. He had to make Lacasse believe that they were resigned to the wait.

Duncan couldn’t believe his ears...they were planning on who would take care of him once this was over. Even they didn’t believe he could take care of himself anymore. He wanted to protest, to stand up for himself. But he couldn’t. He had known it about himself and now they knew it, too. He was like a child who needed someone strong to hide behind, someone strong enough to protect him. His eyes slid away from two of the men he cared for most in this world, misery evident in every line of his body.

Andre eyed the two immortals...how much could he believe? How much were they willing to risk? He had to let it go for now...but a closer eye would be kept on these two. They were the only ones who posed any type of danger to him. The thief was too unreliable and flighty...it’s amazing she had survived this long. The red-headed child was too young, too inexperienced to prove much of a threat. The de Valincourts remained out of touch on their island. The only other one was the mortal Watcher...and he would not interfere. Very well.

“I’m sure Dr. Pierson has apprised you of the facts surrounding Sarah’s situation here. Do not try my patience in any way, Mr. MacLeod. There are more people than even Dr. Pierson is aware of in the balance.”

Connor nodded. “I’d like to say goodbye to Duncan. I’ll be leaving for Scotland tomorrow.”

Andre gestured for the guards to release Connor and watched as he walked over to Sarah who’d remained quietly huddling into the corner of the couch.

“Donnchadh,” he whispered, “be strong. The day will come when you are again free. I swear it.” He watched as a heavy tear fell quickly down the sad face. He pried Duncan’s right arm from around his waist and placed it on his own in a warrior’s clasp but Duncan pulled it away with a cry that tore at his heart. Duncan jumped up and ran to a corner away from Connor, tears leaking from his sorrowful eyes.

“I’m no longer a warrior, Connor, don’t pretend that I am. You granted me honor and I thank you for that, but we both know what I am...siursach!”

“Duncan!” the name was torn from Connor’s throat when Duncan called himself a whore but Duncan had turned away.

Andre stepped forward. “Good day, gentlemen.” Their visit was over. The guards came forward to escort them from the room.

Connor felt a hand on his arm only to see it was Pierson gently tugging him away, shaking his head and whispering “Let him be.” He turned back briefly to see Duncan crouched in the corner with his arms wrapped around himself as he sobbed.

Both men were silent on the trip back to Paris.