Immortal History Lessons 24

Immortal History Lessons 24

Errors in Communication

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Methos walked with his head bowed, a ball cap pulled low over his brow, shoulders slumped. Every street was a chance, each flash of blond hair made him duck into an shop and wait until a complete stranger passed and he was sure it wasn't her. This new paranoia, the way it made his heart stop and jump was going to kill him. He needed to get out of New York fast. Make it to his storage unit, get his things from the loft before the Highlander got back and leave. The hardest part of that plan was talking to the Dean of NYU without running into Sydney.

The call from New York had come while Methos was planning a very long trip to Kathmandu. Supposedly the Dean didn't want to take his reconsideration of the Egyptology position over the phone, he'd requested a face to face appointment instead. Methos would normally have refused, and quiet colorfully to boot. But a rude refusal would of gotten back to Sydney, and he wanted her to have a clean break from him. Especially with the last night they'd spent together, and despite everything, he would never take that back.

Mac's place was his closest destination, and he was hoping that the boy scout and his girl were out, still it was going to be a quick stop.

The dojo was empty after hours so he didn't have to try and blend in with a trench coat and Dodger's cap with a bunch of cotton wearing martial artists. Picking the lock, that had been easy, it had been his welcome mat to Mac's place for years. What he wasn't expecting was Sugar standing in the doorway.

Sugar's low growl changed the moment he saw Methos, and became excited barks of welcome. The dog began dancing in ecstasy.

"Sugar,shh, shh." Methos said frantically, grabbing the Rottie's collar, scratching quickly behind his ear to appease the dog. "What are you still doing here?"

The Rottie was a bit confused about that too and did his best to communicate that by barking emphatically.

"He's here because Sydney can't have him at her apartment." Said a voice that stopped Methos from calming the dog and wince. "Something I'm sure you would of thought about and taken care of if you'd been with her."

"This is none of your business, Highlander. Leave it alone." Methos said slowly as he turned to see MacLeod standing in the living room.

"Since she's my friend it is, Methos. She's alone and hurting, and she doesn't know why." Duncan said.

"You lonely tonight too?" Methos asked snidely, looking around for a certain brunette.

Duncan's arms were folded across his chest. "Alanna's with her brothers. Just as well since you decided to drop by, we can talk."

"Nothing to talk about." Methos said simply. "I came to get my things before I left the country."

The Scot raised an eyebrow. "You came back to the states for hiking boots?"

"I happen to like those boots." Methos shot back.

Duncan pinched the bridge of his nose, not in the mood for the Old Man's sarcastic bite tonight.

"Why are you here, Methos, instead of with Sydney?" He finally asked.

"I don't make a habit of going places I'm not wanted, that's why." Methos spat, grabbing his things from where they'd been kicked into a corner during his absence.

Sugar thinking it was a game grabbed at one of Methos' hiking boots and ran with it to the other end of the loft.

"Come back with that you flea bitten Turkish hound!" Methos shouted after the animal uselessly. Sighing he let himself sink onto the couch and throw an arm over his eyes, he'd been running on fumes ever since he'd left Paris. Duncan was silent.

"How is she?" Methos finally asked in a hollow voice.

"She thinks what happened was her fault." Duncan said, moving to the liquor cabinet, he came back with two glasses of scotch. Methos took one gratefully and drained it in one go, Duncan handed him the other one almost immediately. "She broke down at the bar when Joe sang for her, after some pretty in depth questioning."

Methos stared up at him, flabbergasted. "You forced her to talk about Paris? And I thought I was the bastard of this piece."

"She came to the dojo looking like a zombie, I couldn't just let her walk out of here. I was trying to help." Duncan said in his own defense.

Methos stood quickly. "You still haven't learned, have you Highlander! Don't interfere with other people's love lives, especially mine. Sydney has to move on, have a life with six kids and a husband who's most dangerous attribute is his snoring problem."

"But that's not what she wants." Duncan said. "What the hell did you say to her?"

Methos shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "I said some bastard things as usual. I didn't want to, but they had to be said. She needs to hate me, it's better if she hates me. I can deal with that...can protect myself. I can protect her."

It was Sugar who interrupted the conversation, a good thing from Duncan's perspective - at least at first. Sugar had fallen asleep with his nose buried in Methos's hiking boot. But suddenly he'd come awake, possibly by waking himself up with his own snoring. At that point the Rottie leapt to his feet and ran all out toward the guys. But instead of diving onto the couch he barely rounded the corner of it, his claws trying to find traction, and instead slipping down onto his butt the dog slid into home, which was, so far as he was concerned anyway, right at Sydney's feet.

Sydney stood in the open doorway, pale and unmoving. How much or how little she'd heard wasn't clear. When she realized they'd seen her she turned on her heel and headed out and away.

Methos watched wide eyed, as still as a statue as she left. Duncan went after her.

"Sydney, wait!" Duncan called after her retreating back.

She didn't slow down. Sugar, looking from her to Methos and back again ran back to pick up his favorite Methos hiking boot and then wound his way carefully past Methos. The ancient woke up when the Rottie managed to brush against his leg.

"Sydney!" Duncan called, chasing the woman through the dojo. Why was he always chasing after women? "Sydney, let him explain."

She whirled around, eyes wide with fury. "I've head enough, thanks. He explained it quite nicely already." Her voice was icy.

Duncan stepped back. "Just come back upstairs. You two can talk about it, beat the hell out of each other, I don't care. But if you two don't talk sometime this decade I'm locking you both in a room together until you at least come out civil."

"Don't even think about it," she replied, still furious. "I've nothing to say to him." She turned and headed toward the door.

"He'll leave if you don't talk to him." He said, throwing it at her back. "If you don't stop him now, you'll never see him again."

She stopped walking and turned toward him. "It's what he wants," she replied.

"Do you really believe that, after what you heard?" Duncan asked patiently.

"He told me he wouldn't lie to me," she replied. "So yes I take him at his word for what he said to me. It's all I can do, Duncan."

"You can ask him why." Duncan said. "Or you can live the rest of your life wondering, your choice."

She stopped walking and her shoulders slumped in defeat. She was silent for several heartbeats then finally said, "You see, I don't even know what to ask him."

"Start with the truth." Duncan tried. "So far you're the one person who he's only lied to once."

When she didn't move, Duncan finally got fed up and grabbed hold of her elbow. "I'm not gonna live through another century with you two around." He grumbled as he pulled her up the stairs with him where the sound of pounding feet and nails across hard wood floors was skittering back and forth through the loft. When Sydney and Duncan crossed through the door they were privy to the sight of the oldest immortal leaping over Duncan's couch in an effort to catch Sugar who was running around the apartment with Methos boot still between his slobbering jaws.

"Come back here, Sugar! Or I swear you'll bark at a higher octave when I get my hands on you." Methos snarled skidding across a corner in the kitchen after the Rottie.

"Sugar, fetch," Sydney said quietly. The Rottie's head came around and he trotted over to her, dropping the now sodden boot at her feet.

"Was everything a lie?" she asked, looking straight at Methos, pinning him with her look.

Methos stopped dead, switching his terrified look from Sydney to Duncan as he tried to catch his breath.

"I'll just leave you two to talk." Duncan said as he walked out of the apartment and shut the door. Leaving Methos and Sydney alone.

Sydney didn't notice, her attention strictly on Methos. "Well, was it all a lie?"

Methos closed his eyes. "Not all of it."

"And what was true?'

"What do you want me to say? Everything but the bad things?" He asked miserably.

"Did you ever care about me, even a tiny bit?"

Methos looked taken aback by that. "God, yes, I never lied about that."

"Oh. Well. I didn't either."

Methos smiled, but it was faint as he walked over to were his half packed ruck sack was. The distance made it easier to not reach out and touch her. "I'm pretty good at lying, but not that good."

She let that go, instead leaning down and picking up his hiking boot. "Here," she said walking toward where he stood. "You'll need this."

Methos resisted the urge to step back, god knows what she'd do. Instead he took the boot from her, and jumped when her fingers touched his. "Thanks, I need two of these." He said lamely.

"So it seems," she replied. "Be careful, wherever it is you're going."

He smirked. "I couldn't think of anything original actually, already been everywhere at least once. Have any suggestions?"

"Istanbul. You haven't ridden the metro there."

"I remember being banned from there." Methos said, brow furrowed. "But it's a start."

She held out her hand. "Good bye, Methos."

Methos' smile faltered but only for a moment. "Good bye, Sydney Watson."

Taking her hand, he turned it over and kissed the palm. Closing his eyes just as he felt the reflexive spasm in her hand that made momentary contact with her fingers against his face.

"I hope one day you'll find whatever it is you're searching for," she said. She pulled her hand away from his and turned to leave.

Methos could of stayed quiet, let her leave, knowing just that he loved her. But Methos was a bastard.

"That's gonna be hard, since I found it two months ago."

She stopped her retreat and looked around at him. "But apparently it isn't enough to love and be loved in return."

He shrugged, hands in his pockets. "It's been a long time. I'm rusty."

"My first experience at it, so I can't give you any pointers, I'm afraid. And given the disaster I've made of it, you wouldn't want my advice anyway."

He smirked. "I don't know. Two wrongs can sometimes make a right."

"What did you mean, 'things had to be said'?"

The smirk was gone and Methos suddenly found his shoes extremely interesting. "In the cab, all the things I said to make you go. All the things I didn't say afterwards to stop you."

"Well, you were right. So I left. Only I couldn't get a flight out or a hotel room so I ended up back at the barge. I thought you'd be long gone."

Methos laughed. "Well that finally settles it then. My imagination isn't that creative and I wasn't out of my mind, and I wasn't drunk enough to not see you lying in that bed. Just drunk enough to climb in with you and expect to still see you there in the morning."

She flushed. "Yes, well, I'd hoped ... I don't know what I hoped. I guess to have a little bit of dignity left. You'd told me to leave and instead I'd come slinking back. I didn't want you to think..." her voice got a bit shaky and she dashed away a tear.

The silence hung between them.

She took a deep breath. "You know, all you had to do was tell me. I'd have left. I'm stupid, I know, but I do realize what a liability I am, believe it or not."

Methos watched, something heavy swirling in his green eyes as he moved across the room. He calculated in that distance, judged her reaction to his movement and stopped within arms reach of her. His eyes held hers and he remembered her laughing on the barge, her body wrapped around his, naked except for starlight, her arms around him as he cried.

His hand hesitated, but only for the breath of a heartbeat before he traced the track of a tear down her cheek with his fingers. "I didn't want you to." His thumb gently brushing her jaw. "I should of sent you home after Rafe, after Greece...but I couldn't. And then it just all fell away when Higgins had you, and you acted like it was a walk in the park, like the last two months had been your entire life. And it scared the hell out of me."

She leaned into his hand a bit. "I.. I didn't want Higgins to see how frightened I was. I thought if I pretended it was nothing you'd have more options. I'm sorry I don't understand it all."

Methos's smile was soft as he cradled her cheek. "It took me the entire Bronze Age to understand the Game, you expected to get it all in two months?"

"I'm usually pretty good at figuring stuff out," she replied. "Granted not this kind of stuff."

"Stop trying so hard."

"Well, given how often things have been dicey over the last two months, there seemed hardly enough time to breathe never mind think."

Methos snorted. "I seem to have a knack for turning a simple holiday into a marathon of terror and deception."

"And here I thought it was me," she replied.

Methos couldn't control the smile that nearly split his face, casting his eyes down in amusement. "Nope."

"Well, you have to admit Janie was my fault," she confessed.

"I'm fully prepared to accept that." He said. "But everything else?" He asked with raised eyebrows. "Maybe there's a particular season for trouble that I didn't know about. Something we should avoid in the future."

She raised an eyebrow. "We?"

Methos let his hand drop away. "I," he corrected, hands going back to his pockets. "Something I should avoid it in the future."

She turned away from him and said, "You should finish packing. Be careful."

Methos squeezed his eyes shut. "Sydney, I don't know how to not be afraid of losing you. But the last few days have been hell and I can't..." He took in a breath that he cursed himself for being a bit shaky. "I can't even look at the stars without it hurting."

"You're going to lose me, Methos. The only question is when. Whether it is this minute or sometime in the future."

"I'd prefer it be much later." Methos said, watching her back.

She froze where she was. Then turned. "I'm listening."

"As morbid as it may sound, if I could, I'd want to be the last thing you saw in this world. When your hair is gray and you finally stop dying it," He said with a little smirk. "And after I get you over the fact that even at eighty I still want to kiss you, because I still see the beautiful pain in the ass girl who can't go an hour without arguing with me underneath all the age and wrinkles. It might just sound like stupid, inane sentimentality, but it's the truth."

She took in a sudden breath. "Jeezus. One minute you're leaving me forever and now... Fickle much?"

Methos shrugged. "It just takes me a long time to make a decision."

"And are you sure? You aren't going to go trying to chase me off for my own good again?"

He held her face between his calloused hands. "Don't let me."

"I won't," she promised.

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