Lost

Chapter 28

The ride back to Paris seemed to take forever. But he did get one piece of information from the guards. It was dark when Methos was dropped off near the barge. The icy wind cut through him as he turned to survey the darkened boat, but it was no colder than how he felt inside. His thumb again reached to rub against the unfamiliar metal around his finger. It should feel as cold as the wind cutting through him, but it didn’t. It was warm. As warm as the breath teasing his skin while Duncan was in his arms just after their wedding. Gods above, was this just another way to torture Duncan? To make him think he had something only to take it away? But that would almost imply that Duncan would want to be married to him or at least bound to him in some way. Methos no longer knew what Duncan would want. He’d probably want to get as far away as possible and forget this ever happened to him, never want to see him again because of the memories he would bring. No, the wind was warm compared to the way he now felt inside. Well, at least he’d be on his own and making his own choices as to how he lived his life. The term ‘cold comfort’ never rang truer than at that moment. He walked in to the barge and saw the message light flashing.

“Hey, I thought you were going to come and listen to the new band. They’re hitting some notes you’re gonna love...hope to see you.” Joe’s voice ringing off left the barge echoing in emptiness. Methos looked around him and wondered if his current mood could compete against Duncan’s famous broods. He’d bet it was in the running.

Some notes he would love...that meant that Joe had some news for him. Knowing he couldn’t stay in the barge tonight he decided to swing by the bar and then to his flat. There were still plans to make.

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Connor threw two more shirts into his duffle. He’d board his flight tonight. It was about time. His hand itched for the feel of his sword, although in reality they were fighting mortals so guns were more in keeping. Nevertheless, he was itching for a fight. He looked forward to going over the final part of their plan with Pierson. Connor had been thinking about Dr. Adam Pierson for quite some time. He had to admit the plan was coming along well, although the time it was taking chafed at him. He was a man of action although he didn’t rush into things as easily as Duncan did. Duncan. His poor kinsman will need so much help once they got him free of that bastard. Thinking of what that animal had done to his kinsman, and what he continued to do sent shards of hate lancing through his chest and head. He imagined having that thick neck in his hands as he squeezed the life out of him. It was only a fantasy, but it made him feel slightly better. Pierson had said that he “could have what’s left”. Hah! As though that skinny Englishman could do what desperately needed to be done to that damned mortal.

But thinking of Pierson, he again wondered at the contradictions in the big-nosed prick. At the time he’d believed the look he saw in those eyes. Since then he’d admired the planning and strategy behind everything they’d all done so far. He also liked how easily all of Duncan’s friends seemed to follow his lead. Taking control seemed to come naturally to him, but it was something he also seemed to avoid. It was obvious he didn’t care to be the one at the center of things, everyone looking to him for answers. Connor got the feeling that Pierson was used to pulling the strings from behind the throne...although it was obvious he was used to sitting on it as well. Just how old was that skinny bastard?

And he had to grudgingly admit that the strength he knew was in Pierson would be needed for his kinsman on his road to his recovery. Ah, Duncan, I don’t know how you ran afoul of Lacasse, but Pierson was a good choice for a friend, or whatever, even if the asshole does get on my nerves. Connor knew that everything Pierson had done was because he cared for Duncan...that much was obvious. Pierson said they had been lovers. But after this, would Duncan want that again? Was Pierson saving Duncan only to let him go? Connor shook his head. First things first...get Duncan, and then everything else will go as it will. He tightened the strap on his duffle and checked his sword. It was time to leave.

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Methos walked into the bar and paused, listening to the sounds coming from the stage. He truly didn’t know if this was a new band or not. It seemed that all of the past months had coalesced into this moment and he looked around as though the bar was new to him. In a way, it was. He wasn’t the same man any more, just as Duncan wasn’t, and that in itself was a very depressing thought. He shook himself and pushed away the melancholy. They only awaited the arrival of Connor for the final phase of the plan to go forward. He walked up to the bar and saw Mike gesture over his shoulder towards the office. Nodding in return, he walked slowly through the bar, as though savoring it for the last time.

Knocking quietly before opening the door and peeking in, he smiled as he saw Joe gesture him in. He was on the phone so Methos took the opportunity to lay his head back on the couch and close his eyes, his hands crossed in his lap.

Joe spoke quietly for a few more minutes knowing as he did that Methos was slipping into sleep. God, he hated having to wake him up...the guy obviously hadn’t slept in who knows how long. And where the hell had be been? He’d been trying to find him for almost two days, although he knew he’d been taken back to the estate. He’d never know until he asked. He eyed the sleeping figure for a moment after he hung up the phone. Miles to go... He got up and walked to the door. Calling Mike over he requested a pot of coffee and quietly closed the door. Should he wake the old man now or let him have a few more minutes? As tired as he obviously was, that might prove more disastrous. Joe was well acquainted with those moments where a few minutes of sleep actually felt worse than none at all. He decided to wait until Mike came back with the coffee before moving over to the chair next to the couch.

Methos was definitely slipping into a deep sleep judging from the soft snores he was making. Joe leaned over and touched his left arm. When that didn’t work he lifted the arm, pulling free the hand that was enfolded in the other and tugged slightly. He was looking at Methos’ eyes and didn’t notice the ring at first but lifting the limp hand brought it into view. Since when did Methos wear a ring?

“Hey, Adam...wake up!” He tugged on the arm again. Maybe a couple of minutes was a couple too long. “Adam! Come on, buddy, let me give you this stuff and you can go home and go to bed.” He pulled harder on the arm but again noticed the ring. He brought the hand up to look at it. Simple platinum with what looked like Celtic knots along the edges. Not bad, but it looked far too much like a wedding ring.

“If you’re done, can I have my hand back?” Joe looked up into intense hazel eyes. How long had he been awake? Joe would have sworn he’d been dead to the world, but now he looked as alert as ever. He dropped the hand with a disgusted snort.

“You need to go home and get some sleep. Obviously wherever you were wasn’t conducive to getting any rest, hmmm?” Concern was obvious in the Watcher’s eyes, but so were the questions. Looking directly at the ring and then turning to pour Methos a cup of coffee, he spoke over his shoulder almost casually. “Anything you want to tell me, buddy?”

Methos rubbed his eyes tiredly debating how much to tell Joe. Hell, it couldn’t hurt, and maybe Joe might have some insight as to why Lacasse had divorced Duncan and then married him off again. He took the cup and drank some of the strong brew before speaking.

“It is exactly what you think it is, Joe.” Methos again leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “Lacasse invited me back to the estate...” He paused at derisive sound Joe emitted. “It seems he decided that his marriage to Duncan was no longer meeting his needs. He divorced Duncan.” He turned to look at Joe. “Joe, I was at the estate for my own wedding. I’m now married to Duncan.”

“What?! Why the hell would Lacasse do that?” Joe was shocked. “Is Mac okay?”

“I don’t know, Joe. Maybe it has to do with his illness or perhaps it’s just another way to mess with Mac’s head. But whatever the reason, Mac is far from okay.” He didn’t even try to hide the worry he felt. “I think Mac is barely holding on to his sanity.” He closed his eyes. They needed to move. “Do you have the package?” Joe pulled it out of the file cabinet, silent as he tried to work out the reason behind Lacasse’s actions.

Methos broke open the package but continued speaking. “Get Amanda’s friend into the Hall of Records to see what’s been recorded. I also want church records. We were married by a priest, a Father Jean LeClerc, but if Sarah Lacasse was divorced there shouldn’t have been a priest present. I want to know just what information is out there.”

“How does that help anything?” Joe tried to follow Methos’ leaps in thinking.

“It might make a difference to Duncan’s recovery. You know the time period he grew up in, how he feels about the Church and its traditions. I want to be able to tell Duncan that this wasn’t binding in any way.”

“Granted it’s not real because Mac is, after all, A MAN. But what if it was all recorded as real...what’ll we do then?” Joe knew how rigid Duncan was in his thinking. There would have to be real reasons for him to believe he wasn’t bound in some way to Adam or Andre and they would have to cover all the bases. Knowing the Highlander as he did, he knew that Adam was right...it might make a difference to Duncan’s actual recovery.

“Then I suppose I’ll have to defrock a priest.” He laughed mirthlessly. “It’s not like I’ve never done it before...”

Joe wanted desperately to ask about that statement, but knew now was definitely not the time.

“Okay, so what about what you have there? Any show stoppers?” Joe looked at the documents Methos had spread across his lap.

“No, this is all good. And it looks like we can move as soon as Connor gets here.” Methos reviewed the confirmation from one of Connor’s men. Based on a vague document that Louisa had photographed he’d learned who all of Lacasse’s targets were. He sent word to Connor who had his men identify all of their marks. Along with Sean Burns who Methos had already warned, Lacasse had also targeted Grace Chandel and again he was grateful for Louisa’s assistance. Grace was not only Mac’s friend but she was once his lover and therefore held an even larger part of his heart. But now they were ready.

“According to my guy, Connor should be here in the morning. So I suggest you go home and get some shut eye, okay? I know you’ll want to be bright and bushy-tailed for the fireworks later.” Joe sat back and took another sip of his coffee.

Methos smiled slightly and nodded. With a last sip from his cup he stood and walked to the door. “Call me if you get any information but otherwise call me when Connor gets in. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” The grizzled Watcher just nodded. Methos looked back from the doorway. “Thanks, Joe.” The two men smiled at one another and then Methos walked away with maybe just a bit more energy than when he’d walked in.