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Hungry Ghosts

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Something had been tugging at him all day. The need for a drink and bit of fun had gotten him out of the hotel he was staying at. The front desk had told sent him on to this place.
Comfortable lighting in the pub had made his foray into the Irish Channel pleasant. A good stout that made him think of coffee and chocolate, good music and damn good food had made this the best choice.
Methos leaned back after finishing his meal. The music was instrumental and hypnotic. He closed his eyes for a few breaths. He was enjoying this visit. He heard a clink of a glass and a plate. Opening his eyes he saw someone that he thought he might would never see in the new world. Diffidently not in New Orleans. She was everything you would point at and say a middle aged woman. Slightly heavy, yet clear eyed and skinned. Red haired and amber eyed.

"Well keeper."
"Elder"

There was a faint smile about her lips as she addressed him. She slid over a large slice of what looked like peach pie and a glass of what could only be a sweet dessert wine. She waved over the waitress to remove the remains of his supper.

"Is there a reason for this?
"No."
"No words of warning from the Well Keeper of Sorrows?"
"Would you like me to wash your cloak white?"
"no."
"Then accept a gift of food and song and drink. You will be off as you will. And when you want to, bring the music man back with you."
"Not Duncan?"
"No father. I don't think he would like it. Joe on the other hand would."
"Not angry with me?"
"Should I be?"
"Some would think so. After all, I left your lover in a well."
"You left him with his head. I don't think about him anymore but, I don't think about him any less either. We were no longer together by then."

Badb smiled fully as she stood up from the table. Methos stood as well, hugging his daughter tight and kissing her cheek. He would eat his dessert, drink a few more drinks and leave on his way back to Paris. He heart lighter.