Joe was waiting for them with his van, anxioius to see how the two had fared and hoping against hope that Methos' depression had lifted. Whilst he might not admit it to many people, he had grown immensly fond of the grouchy old immortal. He had been shocked by the revelation that Methos was one of the Four Horsemen and it had caused him a few moments of doubt - but frankly it had not been as great a shock as finding out that Adam Pierson, graduate student of the Sorbonne - and watcher, was in reality Methos - oldest known living immortal.
He had wondered often, exactly what motivated Methos to hide out amongst the secret society which recorded immortal's lives - he had even accused him once of using watcher resources for his own nefarious plots, but when Methos had sacrificed his time and energy to help rescue Joe's daughter from the clutches of Morgan Walker - even knowingly walking into a trap which Joe himself had helped to arrange, he had been forced once again to reassess his views. Joe still felt a deep sense of guilt over the incident, though he had been in an awkward corner with few options, and the fact that Methos had taken his betrayal with apparent nonchalence - seemingly expecting that he would be set up - and yet still risking his own life for Amy - that had made Joe feel as though he had swallowed a stone that weighed heavily in his gut and left him with a sick sensation in his stomach. Methos could so easliy have killed Joe in revenge for setting him up, or he could have just left Paris as he'd originally intended and left Joe to be killed by Walker's thugs. Instead he had thrown himself in front of a bullet meant for Joe, died, and on awakening thrown everything into protecting him, and his daughter.
The Methos that Cassandra had described would certainly never have involved himself in aiding Joe, and that realisation had led him to become very protective of Methos, even prompting him to defend him to Duncan on more than one occasion.
He had no doubt that the Methos Cassandra had known and the Methos he knew were one and the same, just as he had no doubt that Methos could still be ruthless and single minded - what he did doubt though was Methos' oft professed attitude of caring for no-one but himself. If it had ever really been true - and it may well have been - it was demonstrably untrue of the man he knew now. He found himself wondering how Methos remembered his time with the Horsemen. What had motivated him to join with them and what had made him the raider and rapist and all round object of fear Cassandra had described? Of course if Catriona was right, then she was the one person apart from Methos who actually knew the answer to those questions, and she had promised not to tell.
He sighed. He may never learn the truth of Methos' past but he knew the truth of the present, at least he thought he did. He had resolved, after the Walker incident, to allow Methos' actions to speak for him, but his recent actions - his morose behaviour and the worrying suicidal bout - greatly worried him and he fervently hoped that some time away from everything had helped heal the old immortal, emotionally as well as physically.
He brightened as he saw the boat drawing up to the shore and, opening the door of the van, he headed down to meet the returning group and guage the success, or otherwise, of the retreat chez Duncan's Cabin.
"Hi Joe," Methos said, grinning widely, "come to give us a hand?"
"Nah." Joe replied. "Just missed your ugly mug so I thought I'd come and take a gander at it - make sure it hadn't got any uglier whilst you've been away."
Methos snickered and clapped Joe on the shoulder as he got out of the boat.
"That's nice Joe," he said, still chuckling, "very reassuring to know my features are just as repulsive as ever."
His voice would have made any blues singer proud, Joe thought. The husky, gravelly quality it had suggested smoky bars and hard drinking - things he was sure the oldest immortal had been intimately familiar with in the past. At least his vocalisaations would cause less comment now than they would have done ten days earlier. He seemed to have lost the gaunt and haunted look as well as having, apparently, gained a little weight and caught up on his sleep. Feeling more relaxed, and also more hopeful that his friend had managed to reach a state of equilibrium, Joe helped in packing the van for the return to the city.
The friendly banter bewteen Joe and Methos had eased the general air of tension and Catriona and Duncan began adding friendly insults to the mix. Soon the van was loaded. The four of them clambered in and headed back for Seacouver almost in a party mood.
Joe dropped Duncan and Catriona back at the Dojo, arranging for them to return to the bar at eight for a meal and chat. Catriona tried to cry off, but the insistence of both Methos and Duncan eventually made her promise that she would be there.
"I'd like you to come," Methos had said, "Come and wish me luck for my Doctoral Viva."
"As if you need it, I'm sure you've got the thing sown up." She replied, laughing a little. And it's not as if it's the first time he's sat for a Phd, she thought.
Finally she agreed and it was all arranged. Joe and Methos headed back to the bar and Duncan brought his car round to run Catriona back to the University.
The mood of all four was as different from what it had been fifteen days earlier as it was possible to imagine and whilst they all still recognised that Cassandra still represented a threat they were able to put that threat to the back of their minds - and for a while to look forward, with fresh hope, to the future.
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sharonmarais@sam27.demon.co.uk