A Learning Experience

By Cynthia A Shettle

Copyright 1997

This story is a work of Highlander fan-fiction, a non-profit, amateur piece done without the permission of Rysher Entertainment. It is in no way intended to infringe upon Rysher's rights to their world or characters. I would like to thank Arrellian O'Connell and Biffette for their editorial assistance in the creation of this story.

I can be contacted via email if you would like to comment on my writing or just discuss Highlander. You may make a hard copy of this story or send a copy to a few friends as long as the disclaimer and copyright information are included and the story is left intact. Please notify me before publishing it elsewhere, whether electronically or in print. Updates on my other work are available on my fiction page.

Methos was at a stall in the marketplace, haggling with one of the merchants when he sensed the approach of another Immortal. He stiffened slightly, but managed to suppress the instinctive desire to look around.

"Is something wrong?" the merchant inquired.

"No," Methos replied with a reassuring smile. "I was just considering your last offer. I'll take it for three shillings." The amount was significantly more than the item was worth, but Methos was presently more concerned with leaving the area unnoticed than in hanging onto his money.

"You won't regret this. My wares are the best in the city, well worth the price," the merchant assured him as they made the exchange.

As he turned to go, Methos allowed himself a casual glance about the crowded marketplace. He couldn't identify the other Immortal, but did spot two men wearing familiar-looking medallions before he was on his way.

One man was presumably following the Immortal that Methos had sensed, but the other had already been present. The abnormally high number of apparently unattached Watchers showing up in his vicinity lately worried Methos. The longer it continued, the more convinced he became that they had a lead on his whereabouts. No one inspired a large scale search like the oldest, most elusive Immortal.

While he had enjoyed seeing Gaynor again, Methos was starting to wonder if their reunion would turn out to be not worth its price. Oblivious to his mortal shadow, Gaynor had seemingly allowed his use of Methos' real name to be overheard.

Nearing the edge of the marketplace, Methos heard the sound of running footsteps just before a richly dressed young man turned the corner. The Immortal was not fast enough to entirely avoid the collision. While Methos was able to regain his balance, his inadvertent assailant landed in a mud puddle created by the prior night's rain.

A second wealthy young man turned the same corner. Giving a snicker, he offered his friend a hand up. Torn between the desire to leave and concern over whether the young man had injured more than his pride, Methos hesitated.

The young man whom the observing townsfolk knew as Terrell did not. As soon as he was on his feet, he drew his sword, pointing it at the Immortal. "You made me look a fool in front of my friend. I demand a duel to redeem my honor."

"I'm sorry you got wet," Methos soothed, taking a step back, a wary eye on the weapon. "But no one has been hurt so far and I'd prefer to keep it that way."

"You mock me with your cowardice. Draw and fight like a man," Terrell insisted, waving his sword uncomfortably close to Methos' throat.

Methos took another step back, but he was conscious of the crowd moving closer to watch. With the marketgoers cutting off his escape route, Methos had little choice but to accept the challenge. He drew his own sword as he quietly replied, "Don't confuse the desire for peaceful resolution with a fear of combat." The dangerous glint in Methos' eyes was lost on Terrell who responded by making his first swing.

The Immortal parried easily, but he kept his every movement under tight control as the battle began in earnest. He had little fear that the brash youth could cause him serious injury, but even the slightest scratch could expose his healing abilities. Also, he had to hold himself back. Exotic maneuvers learned in another country or another century might be dismissed by the townsfolk as merely the skill of a master swordsman, but the Immortal and Watchers among his audience would know better.

Terrell was angry and more than a little overconfident. His father had insisted on sword training from a young age and he was quite good - for a mortal. Terrell had not had a serious challenge in years and refused to admit that the stranger might be better than he was.

Even with the restrictions on his fighting ability, Methos was still able to put his millennia of experience to use in analyzing his opponent's fighting style. Methos didn't really want to hurt the young man, so when the opportunity to disarm him presented itself, he took it.

The crowd cheered as Terrell's sword went flying. Enraged even further, Terrell whirled to face them, but the marketgoers turned and pretended to be minding their own business.

Methos suppressed a smile, realizing that the townspeople had long awaited someone who could put the young man in his place. A glance revealed that the other young man was retrieving his friend's weapon from where it had fallen. Momentarily unobserved, the Immortal decided to make good his escape.

The townspeople might have enjoyed Methos' victory, but it had destroyed his chances of maintaining the low profile he wanted. Methos only hoped that if he left town now, the Immortal and Watchers wouldn't realize that he was the one they sought until it was too late to follow.

Just then, Methos sensed the other Immortal. He forced himself to maintain his pace, though he suspected it was a wasted effort. The traffic level on the street was low enough that it was unlikely to confuse anyone for very long. The sensation faded faster than was normal, then returned a moment later. Methos deduced that the other Immortal had paused long enough for them to get out of range of each other, then hurried to catch up.

Giving a sigh, Methos tried to prepare himself for the inevitable confrontation. It never came. After a few minutes had passed, Methos stopped walking and turned around. None of the handful of people displayed the least bit of interest in him. Mustering the concentration necessary to focus his senses, Methos realized that the other Immortal was no longer in range.

That puzzled Methos, but it also worried him. It didn't seem possible that the Immortal hadn't figured out that Methos was the one he was sensing. But what other explanation was there for the decision not to approach him. Also, the odds were high that the Watchers had realized he was an Immortal as well. And the two things they most looked for when on a Methos hunt were Immortals they had little or no information on and Immortals who displayed unusual, particularly anti-social, behavior. He had probably managed to put himself on the top of their list of suspects.

Methos couldn't see any signs of Watchers in the area, but if they realized who he was, they'd likely be more careful than usual. The ancient Immortal sighed. Probably the best course of action would be to follow his original plan and leave town. He was very near the inn where he was staying now, so he went inside to gather his belongings.

After paying his bill and retrieving his horse from the stables, Methos made his way to the edge of town. He decided that it would be best to head away from civilization for a while. That wouldn't guarantee that the Watchers couldn't find him, but it would increase his ability to discern when he was being followed. Once he lost his tail, all Methos would have to do was lay low until they gave up looking for him.

Speaking of being followed, Methos now spotted a young man who looked rather familiar, in spite of the fact that he had changed into a clean outfit.

Terrell drew his sword as he approached. "I demand a rematch."

Methos sighed. "Look kid, I don't want to hurt you. I'm leaving town and you'll never see me again. Just get out of my way."

"Don't call me a kid! I'll have you know that I'm a well-respected man in this town. And you're not leaving until I have the chance to beat you."

This outburst only served to reinforce Methos' impression that Terrell was nothing more than a spoiled brat throwing a temper tantrum. And while he'd believe that the townspeople feared the young man, Methos seriously doubted that anyone respected him.

The ancient Immortal drew his sword. He was fairly certain that he was not currently being followed and decided not to hold back. It only took two moves to disarm the irritating brat this time. Resting his blade against the young man's throat, Methos looked him in the eyes. "You cannot beat me. You're just not good enough. Either you accept that fact and leave me alone or I'm going to kill you. Which is it going to be?"

Terrell's face turned white. "I..."

"I can't hear you." Methos was about to increase the pressure slightly, just enough to draw blood, but he heard movement behind him. He started to turn, but wasn't fast enough to prevent whomever it was from plunging a blade into Methos' back.

The Immortal saw the young man in front of him escaping, but couldn't focus past the pain enough to do anything about it. Methos cursed mentally as he fell. A sword through the heart wasn't truly fatal for him, but any doubts about his Immortality would be instantly dispelled by a resurrection.

Methos woke again to the sensation of being lifted and instinctively broke their grasp to pull away.

"Good, you're awake," a female voice responded from behind him. "We need to move quickly. Terrell has been bragging all around town about how he killed you in a rematch and you'd better not be around to prove him wrong."

"But he didn't kill me," Methos protested, turning to face the beautiful woman with red-gold hair. If Terrell was the young man he had fought earlier, he had been unarmed and in front of Methos. Whomever killed him had struck from behind.

"Have you looked at your tunic lately?"

Puzzled, Methos did so. The sword had been pushed all the way through and he had to admit that it wasn't obvious which side it had started on, but he had been there and the woman hadn't.

"You did die, you just didn't stay that way," Radella explained. "I'll explain everything once we're safely away from here."

It suddenly occurred to Methos that the woman was treating him as if he were a new Immortal. Apparently, she had misinterpreted Methos' refusal to respond to his Immortal senses as an indication that he didn't have them. He opened his mouth to correct her, then thought better of it. The Watchers knew even less about the Immortals' ability to sense each other than the Immortals did. If he played along with her mistake, the Watchers should accept it, moving him from the top of their suspects list to the bottom.

Believing him to be gaping in shock, Radella moved closer and spoke in a reassuring tone. "I know this is a lot to take in all at once, but it is important that we leave now. There'll be plenty of time to adjust later."

"May I bring my horse?" Methos asked. Most of his possessions were either easily replaceable or safely in storage, but he did have the current volume of his journal with him. While keeping it where the other Immortal could assess it might be risky, the alternative was leaving it for the Watchers to find.

"Well..." Radella considered. She didn't like the idea that someone might recognize the horse outside her home. Then again, they wouldn't be there long and the animal would increase the amount they could bring with them. Also, it was the first sign that the new Immortal was willing to cooperate. "All right, but hurry."

Methos rose. His horse was only half a block away from where he had left it. The fight had been enough to make it nervous, but wasn't serious enough to really scare it. Catching the reins, he turned to the other Immortal. "My name is Adam, what's yours?" Adam was Methos' favorite alias and he tended to fall back on it when he didn't have anything else prepared. The Watchers didn't seem to have caught on yet.

"Oh, forgive me. I'm Radella." She turned down the street. "My house is this way."

The eldest Immortal followed her, leading his horse. He didn't recognize the name, but there were many Immortals he had never heard of. Radella had a fairly nice house, so Methos guessed that she had accumulated quite a bit of wealth somewhere along the centuries.

Radella opened her front door and turned to the young Immortal who called himself Adam. "Please come in."

Stopping only briefly to tie off his horse, Methos did as he was told. He looked around. "I like your house."

"Thank you. I inherited it from a wealthy friend." Radella's smile faded to sadness. "Unfortunately, I won't be able to keep it."

"Why not?"

She turned to face him. "I'm going with you and we can't bring it with us."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you abandon your life." Methos genuinely was sorry. He hadn't had time to think through how his masquerade would affect Radella.

"Don't be. I've been here twelve years already and have been trying to convince myself to leave for several months now. I may appear to know what I'm doing, but that doesn't mean that a century and a half of experience makes it any easier to leave everything you know behind and move on." Radella was moving about as she talked, trying to decide which of her possessions were essential and which had to be abandoned.

"I guess it wouldn't," Methos agreed. He still had trouble sometimes, even with four and half millennia of experience at it. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know," Radella replied. "Anywhere where no one knows either of us. Do you have any preferences?"

Methos considered. He'd prefer a place without other Immortals. Besides the dangers they'd pose themselves, Watchers tended to congregate where Immortals did. However, Radella hadn't explained about the Game yet, so he had to feign ignorance of any reason to avoid others of his kind. "How about some place quiet and out of the way, with no one like Terrell around."

Radella smiled. "Okay. I can't guarantee the last, but I think I can manage to find an obscure village somewhere. We're also going to need new aliases and a story about how we know each other. It would probably work best if we lived together, but that might seem odd to the villagers if we weren't man and wife."

"I can think of worse fates than being married to you," Methos teased gently.

Halting in her packing, Radella slowly turned around, revealing the blush that had crept across her face. She attempted to appear indignant as she replied, "Well, if it's going to give you ideas, we'll have to come up with something else. Perhaps brother and sister."

The ancient Immortal chuckled softly. "That could work too."

Looking at Methos reminded Radella, "You'll need a clean tunic, but I don't have any clothes in your size. If you have something in your saddle bags, I can get it for you."

"It would be faster if I did it," Methos answered quickly, removing the ruined tunic. He hoped that Radella would be relieved rather than suspicious about his too rapid adjustment to Immortality. He didn't think he could afford to let her search his saddle bags and find his journal.

Radella hesitated. She didn't want anyone to spot her supposedly deceased guest. On the other hand, he was right about it being faster that way and she did want to leave town as quickly as possible. "Be careful. I don't want anyone to see you."

"I'll just grab another tunic and come back in," Methos promised.

During the course of their travels, Radella explained Immortality to her student. She also covered some of her own history. Adam was the first new Immortal she had found. That explained to Methos why she knew little enough about those who were not Immortal quite yet to have made the mistake she had. Radella had been in a few serious duels, but no fatal ones, so far. That seemed reasonable for someone her age. A hundred and fifty was still fairly young for an Immortal.

They found a quiet village to settle in, claiming to be brother and sister. Radella began Adam's sword lessons. Methos was pleasantly surprised to discover that she actually was able to teach him a few maneuvers. He knew that he couldn't always keep perfectly up to date, but female Immortals usually didn't practice their swordplay openly among mortals and tended to be not as skilled as the men because of this. One complaint that Radella kept making was that Adam was too stiff and tense. Unfortunately, that was not something he could do much about. If Methos relaxed and followed his instincts, he was too likely to pull a move he wasn't supposed to know.

Methos noted that they had been assigned a new Watcher, not one of the two he had seen before. But the important part was that there was only one of them. That was standard operating procedure. Student Immortals rarely did anything of much importance and tended to spend most of their time with their mentor anyway. It was not worth the effort to track them separately unless the Watchers had agents with nothing better to do. As long as he could arrange to graduate unexpectedly early, Methos ought to be able to drop out of sight before they had someone officially assigned to him.

Even when not involved in training, the two Immortals spent most of their time together. As the days passed, they grew close, becoming quite good friends, but Radella always drew away from the slightest hint of physical intimacy.

After about a week of this, Methos asked, "What's wrong? Don't you like me?" He gave Radella his best hurt expression.

"It's not that." Radella looked frustrated. "I... You're my student. It wouldn't be... appropriate." She smiled gently at him. "Perhaps if you came back a couple of decades from now."

Methos had to resist laughing at the irony. Radella thought he was too young for her. It was fairly common among Immortals to regard those newly awakened as the children of the species and overlook the fact that as mortals, they would be considered adults. Methos tended to fare better than most at overcoming this tendency. At his age, nearly everyone he met was comparatively a child, so if he couldn't have relationships with children, he wouldn't have any at all.

A month later, Methos sensed another Immortal while he was out gathering firewood. "Radella?" he asked, turning around. He didn't think it was. It felt wrong, somehow. Unfortunately, if the other Immortal was hostile, he couldn't afford to waste the concentration necessary to fully utilize his Immortal senses.

"Hildebrand Breit," the other Immortal introduced himself, coming into view.

Methos froze at the name. This man he recognized. Breit was one of the increasing number of Immortals who spent far too much time hunting for heads. While Breit seemed to prefer his victims helpless, he was a skilled fighter. Methos didn't think he could beat him while holding back. He couldn't see Breit's Watcher at the moment, but there was plenty of cover and the Watchers were skilled at hiding. "What do you want with me?"

"Your head, of course." Breit drew and took a swing at Methos. The ancient Immortal ducked behind a tree, dropping the firewood in the process. Breit tried to follow, but stumbled on the discarded branches. Methos decided to take advantage of Breit's momentary distraction to make a run for it.

As he moved, Methos wondered if this was really the choice he wanted to make. Methos probably could beat Breit if he tried his best, but he wasn't certain. He usually preferred to avoid fights when he had the option. Currently the only person who needed protecting was Radella and he could just get her out of town. Methos knew these woods and Breit didn't. The ancient Immortal was certain that he could lose his pursuer and then double back with enough time to be long gone by the time Breit got there.

He sensed an Immortal as he approached the hut he and Radella shared. "You're late," Radella called out. "I was beginning to..." She had reached the door and taken in his panting and lack of firewood.

"Another Immortal," Methos told her between breaths. "Hildebrand Breit. Need to leave. Before he finds us."

Radella spoke in a reassuring tone. "I know that you're scared. It's perfectly understandable. You lost the last duel you fought, and that was with a mortal."

Methos shook his head as he entered the hut to find his journal and anything else of too much value to be left behind. "Didn't lose. Was tricked."

"It's the way of our kind to fight each other," Radella tried to explain.

"I don't care," Methos retorted. He was beginning to get his breath back now. "I don't want to fight him. I don't want you to either. Let's just leave before he gets back."

"Adam, please, this is my decision. You can't tell me what to do. You're my student, not my father. Just because you're a man and I'm a woman doesn't mean I need your protection."

That thought had never occurred to Methos. He wanted to protect Radella because she was younger and less skilled, not because she was a woman. Unfortunately, unless he wanted to tell her the truth, she could use the same line of reasoning to prove why she should protect him. "But I don't want to lose you."

Breit must have been a better woodsman than Methos thought because both felt his approach now. "You won't," Radella assured him as she went outside to face Breit with Methos trailing behind.

The eldest Immortal cursed himself mentally. He should have fought Breit in the woods, instead of running. Now Radella was going to die for his mistake.

"Radella, I presume. I see you have the backbone your student lacks," Breit commented to the Immortal woman as she approached.

Methos had never told Breit that he was Radella's student. Then again, he had run from a fight and was now, apparently, cowering behind her. He had to admit that from the point of view of someone who didn't know better, his actions were more characteristic of a child than an ancient.

The fight began, but Methos only half watched it. He glanced about for the two Watchers, but didn't see either of them. They weren't that important at the moment anyway. If Breit won, Methos would need to be prepared to face Breit himself. Unfortunately, beating him would require blowing his cover in front of two suddenly unattached Watchers. Of course, it was possible that the reason he couldn't see them was not because they were hiding, but because they weren't there.

There was always the option of taking Breit's head while he was still stunned from the Quickening. That was, however, considered to be cheating and Methos didn't like to cheat if he didn't have to. Maybe he should just run away once the Quickening started. Methos had a horse and Breit didn't seem to, so it was unlikely that the other Immortal could catch up. However, that wouldn't be fair to Radella who was... Who was holding her own against Breit, Methos suddenly realized as his attention focused on the fight in front of him.

Methos examined the woman fighting in front of him as it dawned on him that he had not been the only one holding back during their training sessions. But Radella had not been as obvious about it. It wasn't specific maneuvers that she was or wasn't using, but more the intensity with which she fought. With her life, and that of her student, on the line, Radella was now fighting with everything she had.

Radella's movements were now much more precise than he had seen in their training sessions and Methos realized, in retrospect, that many of the mistakes she had made in practice could easily have been feigned. He suspected that she was either testing his ability to take advantage of mistakes or trying to bolster his confidence by not appearing to be too much better than he was. Methos wished that it was possible to truly test his skill against the young woman. He was no longer certain that he would be the winner.

With the two combatants nearly evenly matched, the fight lasted a long time. Methos wondered why none of the villagers came to investigate, but they were probably too scared. He couldn't imagine the Watchers not coming if they were within hearing range, so he guessed that they were hidden rather than missing. Of course, it was possible that Breit's had gotten lost in the woods.

Breit and Radella continued to exchange blows. Radella was slightly faster and Breit slightly stronger. Methos noted that Breit almost exclusively tried to parry his opponent's attacks, while Radella seemed to prefer to dodge. Neither was able to penetrate the other's defenses. Then again, Methos didn't see any obvious openings that he would have been able to take either.

The way things were going it looked like it would be decided by who tired first. Unfortunately, Methos suspected that would be Radella. Both Immortals appeared physically fit, but Breit was much more powerful. When all other factors were equal, that usually made the difference. Methos wondered if he should break the rules and interfere in the fight. He debated briefly, weighing the risk of Radella losing against the cost of assisting her. Eventually Methos decided that Radella would not appreciate his help.

Methos' breath caught in his throat as Radella appeared to falter. Breit tried for the killing blow while his opponent was off guard. Radella ducked, jamming her weapon into the other Immortal's midsection. The watching ancient could see the pain etched in Breit's face as Radella withdrew her sword. Apparently unused to such agony, Breit just stood there, his sword dangling limply from his hand for the moment Radella needed to knock it away. Startled, Breit tried to back up, but Radella followed closely, her gaze unwavering.

When Radella started to swing, Breit dove for his sword, hoping her blade would pass over his head, but Radella surprised him and he felt the bite of steel in his left leg. Breit's fingers brushed against his hilt and he grasped desperately at the weapon, but he was facing away from Radella now and was not quite fast enough to parry her death blow.

Suddenly sickened at the sight, Radella backed away, her sword falling, forgotten, from numb fingers. She had never killed anyone before. It was the way of Immortals, but nothing ever seemed quite as real when it was happening to someone else. Radella turned away from the swirl of energy that rose from the body and opened her mouth, as if to speak to her waiting student. Whatever she wished to say was lost as the Quickening struck, knocking Radella to her knees, her body shaking with the force of its power.

Methos barely waited until the storm was over before he rushed to embrace Radella. "You won!" Somehow his hug led to a kiss, long and passionate.

Radella pulled back. Almost inaudible, she whispered, "We shouldn't," but the words lacked conviction and her eyes begged him to refute them.

A Quickening was both the most exhilarating and the most exhausting experience that an Immortal could have, and the first one even more so. Radella would never be more vulnerable than she was now and Methos was tempted to take advantage of her. Unfortunately, he was better than that now. He turned his head and softly replied, "We need to talk."


"Inside." Methos still wasn't certain where the Watchers were, but the Quickening would have drawn their attention if they weren't already present. This was one conversation that Methos could not afford to have overheard.

Radella nodded mutely and allowed Methos to help her to her feet and lead her to the hut. Once inside, she turned to him, "What's wrong?"

"I think I'm falling in love with you," was the soft reply.

The Immortal woman hesitated. "You don't want to be my student any longer."

Methos sighed. "I never should have been your student to begin with."

"Don't say that," Radella protested. "Everyone needs a mentor."

"You don't need to tell me that." Methos turned away. "I've seen what happens to Immortals that have to figure things out on their own."

"You've seen..." Radella was stunned, but managed to gasp out one more word. "How?"

"I'm older than you think, older than you are, older than anyone I know," the ancient Immortal answered wearily.

"But your first mentor..."

"Long dead if I ever had one." Methos turned back to Radella. "I don't really remember, but back then it didn't really matter because no one else knew what they were doing either."

"Why did you lie to me?" Radella sounded hurt.

"That wasn't my intention. It never occurred to me that anyone could mistake me for someone who wasn't quite Immortal yet."

"You could have corrected me."

"I was going to. But someone was looking for me and I suddenly realized that I had found the perfect hiding place." Methos looked down at his hands. "I didn't have time to think about how it would affect you."

"What did you do to this person?"

"Nothing. They..." Methos couldn't explain the Watchers to another Immortal without trying to justify their existence, an impossible task while he was also trying to hide from them. He shook his head. "It's not important any more."

Radella was certain that he was holding something back, but she let it go. "Adam isn't really your name, is it?"

"I have as much right to it as anybody and, in recent centuries, I've probably used it more than any other, but you're right. I do have another." He looked up with a faint smile on his lips. "You probably even know what it is."

Radella tried to remember everything she could about ancient Immortals and realized it was obvious. Only one claimed to be older than the others and he was the most mysterious of the lot. "Methos."

The ancient Immortal nodded at the sound of his name. "While you were fighting Breit, I kept thinking you were going to die protecting me and the lie I was perpetuating." Methos looked away. "When you won, I knew I couldn't risk that happening again. I don't need your protection. I'm as good as you are, possibly better."

"Then why didn't you fight Breit? Why did you run?"

"I don't like fighting or killing." Anymore. Methos had stopped himself from finishing the sentence out loud, but a chill passed through him as he realized how close it had come to slipping out. Radella couldn't have guessed at the true significance of the word, but he would know. There were instances, such as now, when Methos volunteered information about himself, but he didn't tell anyone about that aspect of his past. Ever. The sort of person he wanted to be friends with nowadays just wouldn't understand.

Radella nodded agreement. "I understand. Killing another Immortal isn't as glorious as everyone tries to make out with all this talk of the Game. When it's happening to you... When you're the one who has to kill someone..." Radella turned her head. "All the energy in the world isn't going to change the fact that a man's dead out there and I killed him."

Methos had to suppress a bitter laugh. Radella thought she could empathize with him because killing one person in self defense bothered her. "I have to leave," he said abruptly.

"Why?" Radella looked at him in surprise.

"I just do," Methos retorted as he retrieved his journal. It was unlikely that he would ever relax his guard around Radella enough that something would really slip out, but he couldn't take that risk. Besides, the tension caused by worrying about it would prevent him from enjoying her company. It was probably for the best anyway. Methos couldn't afford to tie himself to another Immortal.

"I don't understand." Radella watched Methos in bafflement. Now that they were finally free to pursue a relationship, he wanted to leave her? It just didn't make any sense. "I forgive you for lying to me."

Methos shook his head. "It's not that." At least not the particular lie she was referring to.

"Then what? Don't you like me?"

The eldest Immortal looked at Radella as she echoed his words of a month ago and tried to mimic the hurt expression. He sighed. "It's not you. It's me. I..." He turned away. "I can't stay. I'm sorry."

"I wish you'd reconsider."

Tightly clutching his journal, Methos took a step closer, kissing Radella lightly on the forehead. "I'll look you up in a few decades, okay?"

Radella nodded numbly and watched Methos walk away.

Read the sequel: Hide and Seek

Cindy's Home Page
Sky Elf's Fiction Page