Methos' Journal: May 1995
by Lisa Hughes

 

following events in the episode "Finale"


I've seen him again... MacLeod. I'm afraid my excitement about that overshadows all the tension of the last few days. Even the anxiety I felt when our world was about to be turned upside down cannot compare with the enjoyment I took in the sight of him. The sight of his worry over Amanda, the sight of his anger over the disk, the sight of his relief when the crisis was ended. I knew I would find an excuse to see him again... and that's exactly what I did.

I wonder if Joe realized that my calling him about Christine Salzer's growing disaffection with the Watchers after Don's death was just a cover? Oh, I knew that his presence could be useful... but I really didn't take Christine all that seriously at the time (nothing like an old fool). And I knew that he would be on the next plane if I called, if only to chew me out in person for my little Adam Pierson deception.

Well, if he did realize, he gave no sign when I casually suggested that we drop in on MacLeod. During the trip to the barge I had to concentrate on my driving... good thing, too, otherwise I might have been jumping up and down in anticipation. I couldn't believe how excited I was to see this man. But he was the spark that rekindled my desire for life... Then we were at the barge and I saw him standing there with his sword in his hand. My mouth went dry and my heart gave a terrific thump. The memory of that moment sends a shiver up my spine even now. And then his surprise at seeing me.

Seeing him in his own space was a revelation. Surrounded by his things, one gets a real sense of the man. A man of taste, serenity, and passion (one look at that bed would have told me that, had I not known already). I wanted to spend days exploring his place, peering into every corner, reading every book, examining everything in detail... just soaking up everything about him.

Then MacLeod told Joe and I that Kalas had escaped. And that that brat Amanda had helped him. But amazingly enough, my first thought was that he would be coming for MacLeod... not me, MacLeod. When did my sympathies shift so alarmingly? This is a disturbing prospect to a man who has spent so many years putting his survival before all else. I should be running, as far away and as fast as possible, to get away from anyone who could subvert such finely honed instincts. But... I am too intrigued by him to run now.

I underestimated Don's resourcefulness, and the depths of Christine's anger. I've made mistakes over the years, but as such a long-term student of human nature, my instincts really should be better. Ah well, live and learn... story of my life.

MacLeod was already upset when we came to tell him about the disk. Kalas had taken Amanda. Not stupid, Kalas. Really knew how to play MacLeod. I could almost admire his tactics... but for that look on MacLeod's face. The pain and worry were evident, although he tried to hide them. Such an open face, for one of our kind. And he was so angry when we told him about the disk, for a moment I was tempted to let Joe take the heat alone. But only for a moment. Having all that intensity directed at me was invigorating, even if it was in anger.

MacLeod jumped in front of Christine Salzer and took the bullet meant for her. The man continues to surprise me. Anyone could have seen him, and his coming back to life in front of the Tribune offices would have been just as devastating as anything Christine might have told them. But he went and did it anyway, to save Joe. His altruism astonishes me. It's a good thing he's so good with a sword... otherwise I'm sure his boy scout nature would have gotten him killed by now.

When Kalas offered MacLeod the choice: his head or all of it went public... my heart, lodged firmly in my throat, was utterly certain that he would martyr himself for us. I was terrified that I would never get the chance to know him better. All the possibilities for a real friendship that I had only dared to dream of, gone forever before they even had a chance to come true. I tried to explain to him that Kalas was using his nobility against him, but I didn't think he'd listen. After all, he wouldn't take my head, even when it was in his best interest to do so. How could he possibly be expected to act in his own self-interest when to do so might damn us all? Then, wonder of wonders, he refused the martyrdom Kalas offered and fought his best fight. Will the man never cease to do exactly the opposite of what I expect?

Live, Highlander. Grow stronger. I must see you again.


End