Chapter Text
VI.
An enraged Scot was an awesome sight. So was a furious Joe Dawson.
Unfortunately, the effect was spoiled for Amy by the cold anger that burned in
her own stomach. The Watcher in her barely took notice of the Spartan interior
of MacLeod's barge while the immortal paced up and down, throwing questions at
Joe and her like accusations.
"Why didn't you tell me that Cassandra was still here? Or that they met? You
know what could..."
"Because," Joe interrupted, seething, "as long as they didn't kill or torture
each other, I had the quaint notion I might keep my oath. It's not my business
to spy on other immortals for you, Mac. Did it ever occur to you they might want
to manage their lives without Duncan MacLeod?"
"The only things those two have ever managed between themselves are major
catastrophes. And it doesn't look as if this is any different!" Giving Amy a
dark look, he added: "Assuming this whole story isn't another ruse of Methos."
Hoodwinked into losing her job and feeling guilty of major gullibility, Amy was
more touchy than usual. She bristled.
"What are you implying?"
"This whole idea of Methos and Cassandra teaming up still seems preposterous.
Somehow, I find it easier to believe that he killed her, doesn't want to face me
about it and has gotten you to help him by telling me this story. I know how
persuasive he can be."
That was it. In the absence of the immortal she was really furious with,
MacLeod would do.
"You would. After all, he could see how wonderfully well it worked with you and
Joe, couldn't he?"
"Amy!" Joe said sharply while MacLeod looked puzzled and a bit hurt. He had a
very nice puppy dog look, as a matter of fact, but Amy wasn't about letting that
stop her now.
"Just because you get Joe to cover up for you and lie for you on a regular
basis doesn't mean I would do it for that manipulative son of a bitch who..."
Anger now directed at her, Joe interrupted: "Amy, that's none of your business.
And it certainly doesn't belong in this discussion. If this whole story is true,
we'll have to warn the Organisation, but first we have to find Methos and
Cassandra, which incidentally will save your job. So pull yourself together. The
same goes for you, Mac. Losing your temper doesn't help."
A part of Joe noticed the identically chastised expression on those two very
different faces, and was amused. Ironical, really, the need to play stern father
when Amy had just accepted him as a friend and Mac was centuries older, but
*someone* had to behave reasonably. Not that he didn't feel the urge to strangle
Methos himself. The way he had played Amy really was the pits, but the dressing
down for this would have to come later.
"Very well," Duncan said, with a visible effort to calm himself, "we should
start by trying to find this research facility through hacking, just as he did.
Or," his face brightened, "there could be some data in his computer about this."
Amy shook her head. "Not a chance. I checked. It isn't even in a workable
condition anymore."
Joe sighed and, feeling his prostheses a bit more painfully than usual,
carefully sat down and sighed again, which caused Amy to feel a pang of guilt.
It really wasn't his fault; it was hers, and she wouldn't have dragged him into
this at all if not for her sincere wish to make Methos suffer. And the best way
to do this, according to what she had learned in the last months, was to set
Duncan MacLeod on his trail. Which, unfortunately, couldn't be done without
involving Joe. He was right about the need to keep priorities. So she set aside
her grudge against immortals exploiting Watchers for a moment and proceeded to
enlighten Joe and MacLeod that Methos, after all, had left her a clue.
"Where?" asked MacLeod, fingering the letter Methos had written to her
dubiously. "In the part where he says you can keep his flat since he won't be
returning in the near future?"
"No. The Tolkien quote."
Now both Joe and MacLeod looked lost. Clearly, fantasy literature wasn't their
forte. After both their times, Amy suspected. She, however, had grown up with
both "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings," along with probably every second
child in England. Which Methos, of course, was aware of, affecting a British
nationality as a cover himself.
"Not all who wander are lost," Amy quoted. "That's in the verse Gandalf writes
to Frodo to tell him to trust Aragorn, who's in disguise as Strider."
They still looked forlorn. Well, now was not the time to get into explaining
Tolkien's convoluted plots. She tried to make it simple for the uninitiated.
"Gandalf is a wizard. Aragorn, son of Arathorn needs his pseudonym and disguise
to wander through the lands until it is time to save Middleearth. He couldn't
have been more blunt. I suppose he was feeling magnanimous."
Joe got it. "Don't tell me Cassandra and Methos got through Customs calling
themselves Gandalf and Aragorn son of Arathorn," he exclaimed disbelievingly.
"No. But an A. Strider and an M. Andir were on a flight from Paris to Los
Angeles," Amy returned, feeling a bit pleased with herself when Joe gave her a
decidedly proud glance. MacLeod, however, looked suspicious instead, and it
wasn't because he did not know Gandalf's other name in "The Lord of the Rings"
had been Mithrandir.
"If you knew that already," he said slowly, "why didn't you follow once you
found out, with your colleagues? Why did you come to me first?"
Ouch. He hadn't grown to be 400 by mere good looks and luck. Amy bit her lip,
but Joe started to look suspicious, too, so she decided she might as well
confess.
"We might find him on our own," she replied cagily, "but, keeping one's oath in
mind, there isn't much a Watcher can *do* to an immortal."
"Whereas I could?" MacLeod said, comprehending, with an undertone of amusement
which vanished quickly as he contemplated the dire situation once again. Damn
Methos and his games. If he had *wanted* them to follow him, he might as well
have spelled it out completely and given them an address. But no, they had to
chase after hints again. Of course, making it difficult could be the whole
point, ensuring they wouldn't arrive too soon.
He didn't want to think of how exactly Methos and Cassandra had planned to
destroy that research facility. Certainly they wouldn't kill innocent mortals...
or would they? With a threat like that? The unfortunate truth was that he had no
idea what they were capable of, not any more.