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REUNION
Written by Cait MacChat and Gypsy MacNut
It had taken a number of trips around the block before he'd finally gathered enough courage to walk in the door. Each time he'd strolled underneath the neon sign, passed by the entrance, his mind had reached out to detect the presence of others of his kind. While his well-honed instincts assured him he was alone he couldn't shake the feeling he was being followed, that others were nearby. He mentally braced himself and entered the bar where he'd spent so many hours.
Keeping his eyes focused forward, he deliberately strode past places he'd sat in the past. His ancient eyes refused to glance at the table where he'd flirted with, and ultimately won, his last great love. Other memories pushed him past the bar. Making his way to a dark and unoccupied corner table, he folded his deceptively slender form into a chair, his back to the wall."The more things change, the more they remain the same," he silently observed as he allowed the familiar smells and sounds to surround him. His eyes roamed over the late night crowd as they listened to the house band play its signature rhythm and blues. For a moment he envied them - concerned only with the music and the company at their tables. Slowly he allowed himself to relax.
It was somehow comforting to know he was surrounded by nothing more threatening than the music and his own memories. Noticing an unfamiliar face behind the bar he couldn't help feeling relieved that the owner wasn't in his accustomed place. Facing the bar's namesake was not something he was looking forward to but knew would happen sooner rather than later. "Courage, old man, courage!" his inner voice taunted as his thoughts returned the friends he'd loved and lost. "So many dead, a thousand regrets."His attention was diverted as a dark haired, dark eyed, well-endowed waitress approached his table.
"What can I do for you?" she asked in a sultry, come-hither voice.
"What's on draft?" he replied knowing the answer but wanting time to inspect the waitress. As she rattled off the choices, one brand caught his attention. "Bring me a Pete's Wicked Ale," he commanded.
"You got it," she acknowledged, turned away and made her way towards the bar. He couldn't help but appreciate the enticing movement of her hips as she walked away from him and made her way towards the bar. The off-the-shoulder peasant blouse, tightly cinched belt and colorful, flowing skirt gave the waitress a 'gypsy-ish' air.
No matter how hard he tried to divert the course of his reminiscences, his mind kept returning to the many nights he'd spent in this bar, a place he'd come to regard as a refuge of sorts.
"Where the hell is my beer?" he muttered to himself.
"Yada, yada, yada, Methos. What's the problem?" replied a familiar voice. "Not fast enough? Not a thick enough head on your brew? What brings you here?"Startled out of his reverie, Methos looked up into Joe's eyes and exclaimed, "Bloody hell, you're not supposed to be here!"
"Oh really? Last time I checked I owned the place," Joe replied with the slightly condescending smile and gravelly voice Methos remembered from better times.
"Never thought I'd see you here again. I repeat, what brings you here?"
"Memories," Methos replied. The timbre and tone of his voice conveying everything he felt in that one word.
"Heard from Duncan?" Joe asked, knowing the impact that one question would have on his customer.
"No," Methos replied curtly.
"Really? He's been here a time or two asking about you," Joe said with no small amount of self-satisfaction.
"Asking about me? No doubt wondering who finally got around to taking my ancient head!" Methos said in a voice that clearly expressed his disgust.
"Naw, just wondering if you'd finally come home. Home - as in here at the Bar", Joe said with a sardonic grin. "It never fails to amaze me how they fight against themselves, against their friendship", Joe thought to himself as he read the myriad of emotions that played across Methos' face.
"Joe, we both know..." Methos began then stopped in mid-sentence-his focus riveted on the entrance of the bar.
Joe recognized the intuitive stance shared by all immortals and turned his head to follow Methos' intensive gaze.
The door to the bar slowly opened to reveal the silhouette of a tall man standing in the half-light reflected from the stage. The other patrons remained engrossed in the music flowing from the band. Only two were aware that something new had been added to the otherwise mellow atmosphere. "I'll be damned," Joe whispered to himself...or so he thought."He's baaacckk," Methos mimicked in his best Poltergeist voice, "Wonder if he brought his ghosts with him as I brought mine?"
Joe and Methos sat very still as they observed the tall man scanning the confines of the bar; waiting patiently until their presence and location registered. They watched the slow and deliberate movements of the man as he made his way to their table, not speaking, not consciously breathing until he reached them.
"There's no place like home, huh Methos?" he asked, his voice oozing sarcasm. " I'm surprised at you, Joe. You used to be more selective in your clientele," Duncan said with one eyebrow raised in question.
"Hey, MacLeod had better luck at the Track, lately? Last time the three of us were together you lost big," Joe blurted and was immediately ashamed of himself. "Damn, "thought Joe to himself, "Where did that come from?"
Methos and Duncan shared a shocked and shamed look while Joe's face went white as he realized the cruelty of his remark.
"The more things change the more they stay the stay the same", Duncan replied.
"I was just thinking the same before you strolled in, MacLeod," said Methos with a sad twist to his smile. "The least you could do is warn Joe so we wouldn't run into each other here and ruin his day. Um...night."
"MacLeod, I'm sorry. I don't know why..." Joe stuttered in attempt to rectify his monumental error. "Guys, it's been such a long time since we've been together, I don't know where that came from!" Yet, he knew exactly where his ill-timed comment came from. He'd waited so long, wanted this reunion so badly, he couldn't let MacLeod get away with a bruising remark at the beginning of what he'd secretly termed the "Peace Talks".
"Forget it Joe. I know. I'm the one who should apologize", Duncan said in a voice that expressed no forgiveness or contrition.
"What brings you here?" Methos asked.
"I heard you were in town", Duncan replied.
"Yes, I'm in town. Now what?" Methos asked with more than a hint of defensiveness.
"Now what? What's that supposed to mean, Methos?" Duncan asked angrily, the use of his old friends name sounding like a curse. "What do I want from you? Narrow it down ..." Duncan continued in a voice both demanding and hurt. "You left me at the track. You knew I needed you to end it for me. You failed me, Methos! And you 're asking me 'now what?' "
"Stop it, MacLeod!' Joe commanded. "If he failed you, so did I and so did Amanda! Amanda went underground when she heard about Richie. Did you ever wonder why she didn't stick around?" Joe questioned in a harsh tone.
Pausing for a moment to control himself, Joe continued in a softer tone, "I didn't tell her, Duncan. I don't know how or when she found out. All I do know is she left. Her watcher lost her trail in London. If you want to place blame, there's plenty to go around"
"Joe, give us a minute. You have customers and we need a round – now," Methos commanded flatly.
"Yeah, right," Joe said, "I'll be here if you need me. My insurance company doesn't cover 'quickenings' so take it outside if you can't play nice."Both men sat staring at one another across the table, not really noticing that Joe had left them alone. Minutes passed. Their postures reflected their inner feelings - former friends now adversaries; former brothers now divorced from the feeling of family they once shared - neither knowing how to begin again, or if they could begin again.
"Ok, I'll blink first," Methos said with only a hint of his usual cockiness.
" Damn you, Methos...you were my friend. I thought you were my friend," Duncan said with defiance and sorrow battling for prominence. "How could you doubt me? How could you walk away and not look back?"
"As easily as you doubted me when Kronos, Silas and Kaspian invaded your orderly, black and white, moralistic world", Methos replied in his best sarcastic voice.
"I doubted you because of the evidence" Methos continued "...the ev-i-dence was there, MacLeod. Richie's head was separated from his body. You offered your head to me in remorse. Joe cried in my arms. What more do you want? I wanted to kill you. I couldn't kill you. End of story."
"I won't accept 'end of story', Methos. We were friends. You were the only one who could've saved me by ending it then and there", Duncan said, his voice heavy with pain.
"It was 'end of story' for you when I told you about my time as a Horseman. You served as judge, jury and condemned me out of hand. Then, when the tables are turned and you had to face something more powerful than you and your self-righteousness and you lost, well..." Methos trailed off then began again. "Retrospect is a wonderful thing. If I'd exercised better judgment, I would've put more faith in Glenda the Good Witch as opposed to the Great and Powerful Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. You failed me; you failed our friendship then.
How dare you question me now?" Methos demanded in his best Horseman voice. "You disgust me Dun-can...."
Methos said with more than a hint of hatefulness in his voice.
Duncan looked as if he'd been slapped! The brown eyes, which had moments before been the eyes of a supplicant, took on the shocked expression of a child who'd been brutally reprimanded without warning. "Stop it, Duncan," Methos ordered, "those baby browns don't move me."
Suddenly, their conversation ceased. The sensation of an approaching immortal stilled their confrontation. Both men turned to face the door. Joe, ever vigilant, caught their movement, and looked with quiet anticipation from his vantage point at the bar. As with Duncan's entrance, the approaching immortal was framed with the lighting only a bar can provide. Only this time, the silhouette was smaller, slimmer and distinctly female."Amanda", breathed Duncan her name with a sigh.
"Bloody hell", whispered Methos. "Her timing is as always - excruciatingly bad."
"You, 'Amanda," Joe said as he left the confines of the bar and approached her with a warm, welcoming smile.
Her attention momentarily distracted from the two men at the table, Amanda returned the salute by throwing her arms around her favorite male mortal saying, "Joe! Good to see you again!"
"What do I owe the honor of your presence, Amanda? The band is good, but not your style. What brings you here tonight of all nights?" Joe asked in an attempt to delay her arrival at the table where her two friends sat waiting tensely.
"Not now, Joe. I have business to take care of with those two boys over there," she said as she tossed her head in their direction. Breaking free of the embrace she covered the few remaining steps towards Methos and Duncan with Joe following closely on her heels.
Approaching Duncan, Amanda took his face in her hands and brought him close for a lingering, more-than-old-friend kiss. In spite of the undercurrents flowing around them, Duncan returned her kiss with a fervor reserved for old lovers who have known the longings an extended parting brings with reunion.
The kiss was broken as they realized they were the center of attention. The band had left the stage for a break.
The patrons of Joe's Bar noticed Joe's warm welcome of the newcomer and had turned to observe their table.
"We'll continue this later, Duncan. Seems we're being observed. Don't want to make a spectacle of ourselves now do we?" Amanda asked as she noted the blush covering Dunce's face.
"Since when has exhibitionism been a problem for you?", Methos asked with a totally straight face.
"Buzz off, old man" Amanda snorted. "Never could stand the jealousy of those that have vs. those who don't", she continued with a subtle lifting of perfectly plucked eyebrows.
"You had your chance, Amanda. Second thoughts?" queried Methos with his trademark smirk.
"What can I get you, Amanda", Joe broke in.
"I hate to break it to you, but Methos and Duncan were busy getting reacquainted." Joe said. "You sure you want to barge in on this mano-y-mano thing?" he continued knowing it would not set easily with his favorite female immortal.
"Whatever they're having will be fine," she responded.
"Pete's Wicked Ale all around", Joe asked.
"Thought so, " Joe continued as he noted with amusement the various responses to the facial expressions of his friends: Methos smiled contentedly; Amanda's lips formed a 'moue' while her eyes betrayed her by gleaming wickedly; Duncan covered tried to cover a laugh by coughing.
"Good", thought Joe as he left them, "That diffused *that*. Think I'll pour four. This outta get interesting real quick."
As he pulled four "Wicked Ale's", Joe had a quiet word with his new bartender, Rhen. "Keep an eye on my table. Watch me. When I nod, bring four more. Keep 'em comin' ."
The muted ringing of the telephone by the cash register distracted Joe as he passed by. Force of habit made him check which number was ringing on the multi-line phone – it was his private line, the one connecting him to The Watchers.
"Dawson," he announced, his voice clipped. Doing his best to keep his face impassive, the voice on the other end of the phone imparted news Joe would've rather not heard. With a sigh, he hung up the phone, pick up the tray again and made his way back to the table.
"Joe," Rhen stopped his boss with a question, " do I put these on the 'house tab'?"
"No," Joe replied, "See the guy with the 'nose', the one with his back to the wall? Make up a new tab and label it 'Adam'. This time he'll pick up the tab" Rhen heard him say, followed by a muttered, "for a change" as Joe walked towards the table with a full tray of Pete's most wicked ale.
Joe approached the table just in time to hear Amanda unleash her anger on Methos.
"Listen up, Methos. You and I have shared a love hate relationship for as long as I can remember and right now the hate part is way ahead of the love part. Don't ask me how I found out - a girl's entitled her secrets. But make no mistake, I know what happened after we lost Richie," she spat. "Duncan's not the only one who's missing him."
Taking a deep breath Amanda visibly fought to tone down her temper.
"Thank you" she continued in a softer tone, "for denying Duncan's request to end it for him - I may, just possibly, owe you one for that."
"Amanda, don't...", Duncan interrupted.
"I'll get to you in a moment, Duncan. Don't interrupt me again." Amanda snapped.
"Everything you did afterwards makes me want to take your head myself and do the world a favor. Methos, sometimes I wonder how you've survived all these years. After 5000 years one would think you would've learned something of friendship and loyalty. Evidently not." Amanda raved at the totally unrepentant Methos.
"So good of you to honor us with your presence, Amanda. I came in hoping for a quiet drink, what's your excuse?" Methos said pointedly, spearing her with his eyes. "How charming it is to see you again," Methos said as he lifted Amanda's hand to his lips for a kiss. "Especially with the light of battle in your eyes," Methos drawled only to gasp as the hand he was about to kiss made a sharp impact on his cheek. "Being slapped by a beautiful woman reminds me of Cassandra. Remember, Amanda, I ' bite' back!" Methos added as he rubbed his now tingling cheek.
Ignoring the sounds of quickly in-drawn breaths around the table, Methos continued his train of thought by saying, " Now that I think about it, what brings you and Duncan here?" as his eyes lit on the other two occupants of 'his' table. "Joe, you own the place. Duncan, you knew someone was here. Taking risks again? Or just wondering who was in the neighborhood?"
"Methos," Duncan began only to be cut off.
"Methos," Joe interjected only to be interrupted by Amanda.
"Joe!" Amanda exclaimed, with eyes blazing."Excuse me," an unfamiliar voice interrupted. The new bartender stood at Joe's side looking at the immortals. "I noticed your glasses were empty. Care for a re-fill?" Rhen asked and was rewarded by a grateful smile on the part of his employer. "Unless your preferences have changed, here's a fresh round for everyone." Rhen said as he removed the empties and replaced them with perfectly drawn re-fills. Not waiting for comments, Rhen quietly walked away and took up his bar-tending duties without a backward glance.
"Returning to our conversation, before we were so rudely interrupted, "Amanda began.
"Shut up and drink, Amanda," Joe ordered curtly. "Let's toast to our reunion, a gathering if you will", he continued with more than a hint of his Watcher persona in his voice.
Like children caught being naughty, the three immortals looked at one another sheepishly, reluctantly raised their glasses, brought them together and said in unison, "To absent companions."
"Thank you for that," Joe said. "I've missed being with all of you. It's been a long, difficult and lonely year. That's why I arranged for you, Duncan and you, "Joe continued pointedly, "Amanda, to be here tonight. Methos, your coming was a bonus!"
"What? You did what?"
"You arranged...?"
"Bloody hell."
Ignoring the outraged, questioning faces of his best friends, Joe continued, "Yes, I arranged it - at least for those two," Joe nodded in Duncan and Amanda's direction, "to be here in a place they feel safe, feel at home. This estrangement has gone on long enough."
"How dare you interfere"
"Meddlesome mortal"
"This is nae your fight"
"I did interfere. Yes, I'm meddlesome. It is my fight," Joe responded placidly. "I've had twelve months to think about everything that happened the night we lost Richie. What kept coming back to me, time after time, was my memory. My memory of all the years we've been together." "It was dumb luck that you chose this particular night to come in, Methos," Joe said. "I've been in regular contact with Amanda for some time now and I asked that she meet me here tonight. For some reason you couldn't stay away from here once you came back to Seacover, MacLeod. You were the easy one!"
"Of all the manipulating..." Amanda began with a smile. "You sneaky man! I was surprised to see Methos and Duncan. I'm only now understanding your effusiveness when I arrived. So that's what was with the "what brings me here" bullshit!"
"You may be slow, Amanda, but you eventually catch on!" Joe smilingly complimented his favorite female.
"Wait just one minute, Joe", Duncan demanded "You've been keeping tabs on me? Amanda, you, too?" Duncan demanded disbelief clearly evident in his voice and on his face.
"Hate to interrupt" Methos interjected drolly, "but where did you say I entered this equation, Joe?"
"You were my wild card, Methos," Joe responded. "It was only a matter of time until you came 'home' to the bar.
Lucky for us you came tonight," Joe continued only to have his audience abruptly shift their attention from him and focus on the door to the bar.
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