Chapter 10

The flight had been long and even in First Class accommodations; Emily's muscles ached in unmentionable places. Emily managed to avoid blending into the English crowd. She had never been to England before and she took in the sights of the airport, the empty city streets at 2:00 a.m., and any part of the rolling estates brightly lit in the extended drive to Methos' home. She eventually tilted her head back and rested her eyes.

"Is it true, what you said before, about that man being over 5,000 years old? I can't imagine seeing all the different changes throughout time. It's terrifying to me."

"Yes, it's true. No one knows where he is or if he's even if he's still alive." He shifted his eyes away from her and continued driving. In a sense he was not telling a lie, for no one knew Adam Pierson's true identity except Joe Dawson and Duncan MacLeod.

Emily lowered the back of her seat into a resting position and turned so that she could watch him as he consciously drove along the dark, narrow winding road.

"How do you know so much about him? What makes you so sure he even existed?"

Methos kept his eyes straight ahead, "Lucky for us, informational purposes only mind you, he kept many journals. Writing was invented roughly around 3300 BCE, the earliest dates we have in Methos' journals are 3000 BCE." A wistful expression settled on Methos' face as if in reflection, "It's amazing the things we tend to forget over time. Memories become misty gray and then disappear completely."

Emily yawned, trying to keep her eyes open. Her voice became sleep induced, "How old are you, Adam?"

Pretending not to have heard her, Methos continued, "Did I mention that his writings are full of encounters with famous people in history? I'm sure at the time he had no idea how famous they would be. At one time he had even been an Egyptian Pharaoh…" He chanced a quick glance at Emily and was relieved to see that she had fallen to sleep.

With a sigh, he reached out and switched the car's radio to an easy listening station.

"Kate, how about this one?" The deep masculine voice floated through a haze, which Emily fought to recognize.

Emily saw through the eyes of Kate as she had been looking at many photos for an upcoming magazine layout. She looked up and saw Duncan at his laptop. His back was to her as she approached him, placing her hands on each of his shoulders. Peering over his left shoulder she saw what put the laughter in his voice and the twinkle in his eye. He was searching the Internet for chandeliers and had pulled up a picture of a large fixture made with 34 Whitetail dear and American Elk antlers. Candle flame shaped bulbs ringed the two tiers.

"Oh, you can't be serious. Duncan, that is hideous…"

Duncan's smiling face looked up as he reached around and pulled her onto his lap. He nuzzled her neck and playfully tickled her ribs.

"I think it'd bring the cabin to life. It shows character," came his muffled reply.

Emily heard herself laugh with Kate's smooth as silk voice, "I don't think so."

Images faded in and out and back into her unconscious. Everything felt like a dream once more.

Emily walked along the busy New York sidewalk as she normally did at the end of her workday. She recognized the sights and sounds of the Christmas holiday. A sense of joy spread through her heart, almost seeming to overwhelm her. It had the feel of a heavy burden being lifted and she could relax.

She ambled along as if there was nowhere in particular she needed to go. Her feet traveled in no set direction and curiosity set in as she found herself in front of an old building that had been remodeled. She decided that there was no need to panic for she felt no danger or anxiety.

Turning into the large brick building, Emily made her way to a servicing elevator. The lift was noisy and the thick vibrations caused a tickling sensation in her feet and shins.

Before her mind could play the images in real account, everything appeared to be in fast forward. She didn't actually see her hands unlock the lift door or walk into the large foyer, but she knew in the back of her mind that she had done it.

The large stylish apartment was something out of a popular decorating magazine. There were large windows that flooded the rooms with natural light during the daylight hours.

A fully decorated Blue Spruce tree stood near the living room's gas burning fireplace. Two red and green colored stockings hung under the mantle, each one had a name embroidered across the top, "Duncan" and "Kate."

Moving her eyes around the room, she spotted a note lying next to a brass bowl, full of mixed holiday nuts, on the Oak coffee table. She read the loving words on the pale piece of paper and immediately forgot what they said. She felt a presence and the prickly vibration given off as another Immortal made his way up the elevator lift. Emily placed the note down with a smile and started for the foyer.

She faltered as a singsong voice floated through the apartment, "Duunnncan."

Emily stood frozen in her spot as her eyes focused on a tall, very attractively curvaceous woman with short black hair. The stranger wore a black low cut gossamer blouse and a very high cut black leather miniskirt. Her claves were covered to the knees with shiny black boots with a medium heel.

Emily cleared her throat before asking in a cool tone, "Who are you and what are you doing in my home?"

The woman in black turned with a start and examined Emily with genuine surprised curiosity. "Oh…I'm looking for Duncan MacLeod. I was under the assumption that this was his residence," came her overly sweet challenge.

Emily felt slightly irritated and replied with gloating satisfaction, "Yes, this is our house. I'm Kate MacLeod, Duncan's wife."

The raven-haired beauty's eyes widened, her mouth moved in silent protest. She recovered quickly, tilted her head slightly and asked with composure, "How did you manage that in such a short time? I was with him just last year."

Emily squared her shoulders, crossed her arms and smirked, "We were married in 1712."

The woman's right eyebrow arched as she narrowed her eyes, "He never once mentioned you. A topic, such as a wife, would normally come up in pillow talk." The corners of her mouth twitched with pleasure as she silently confirmed that she had also been intimate with the man of the house.

Emily's eyes burned as they traveled over the unwanted guest. Her eyes froze on an object in the woman's left hand, a lock pick. It answered the question of how she was able to enter the building.

"Well, Duncan has mentioned you. You must be the thief…Amelia?"

An unpleasant smile settled on the other woman's lips, "Amanda," she retorted.

Emily wasn't sure where the information came from, but she seemed to know about the sexy woman who tried to insinuate that she was Duncan's lover.

"Yes, well… you must not be a very good thief if you're always getting caught and needing Duncan to save your ass."

"You must not be a very good wife since you were absent from his life for so long," came Amanda's biting reply.

Across the room, the elevator lift clanked and clattered as it opened and the tall, dark, and muscular Duncan MacLeod stepped forth.

"Sweetheart, I'm home…" He stopped short and shifted his startled gaze from one angry woman to the other, in open-mouthed astonishment.

The sky began to change from a pitch-black hue to a soft midnight blue. The sun would begin to rise within the next few hours. Exhaustion had slowly begun to ease across Methos' shoulders. He had stopped along North bound 'A 140' and purchased a strong cup of coffee. The caffeine helped slightly. Emily had slept through every turn made, every bump in the road, and the loud music that Methos played. The closer they got to their destination, the more his anxiety rose and his backside tingled from numbness.

Methos turned the car off A 140 onto a narrow road and headed East. There were very few vehicles that traveled along this particular dead end road. Methos owned the road and 45 acres that it ran through. It was secluded and heavily populated with hundred-year-old trees. Situated in the center of land was a cleared grove that made way to an old cottage built in 1585. The neighboring village was full of homes dated from the 1500's and 1600's.

Methos slowed the car around a bend, watching as the cottage's clay shingled roofs came out of hiding. Each time the tall trees relent the view of his home, a warm feeling flows through his heart and he almost felt young once more.

Parking just outside the garden wall and faded white Rose trellis archway, Methos turned the ignition key to "Off." He waited for a moment and sensed nothing out of the ordinary. He glanced over at the still form of his new student. "You sure sleep a lot," he murmured while reaching for her shoulder to gently shake her awake.

Emily stiffened and woke with a start, "You Bitch!"

Methos stared at Emily in surprise, "Uh, I don't have the correct package to associate with your colorful and most ladylike greeting."

Emily blinked and smiled slightly, feeling embarrassed. "Sorry, I was dreaming again. She was very charming," Emily concluded with sarcasm.

Methos smiled and opened the car door after pressing the trunk release button. Emily rolled over in her seat to exit her side of the car.

A chill from the early hours of morning caused goose bumps to rise on her arms. She quickly made her way around the car to pull her sweater from the small trunk. She glanced at the horizon curiously, "Oh my God! What time is it? You must have driven for over three hours. Aren't you tired? Wow, where are we?"

Methos held one of her suitcases out for her to carry as he gathered the remaining two bags. He started for the walkway and heard her following close behind. "We are outside a small village near Norwich. Welcome to my humble abode. And yes, I am tired. So, as soon as I show you to your room, I am going to disappear for about a week." He stifled a yawn and laughed at his own joke.

Emily tried not to stumble as she made her way down the darkened path of cobblestones that led to the house's side entrance. It was still much too early in the morning for adequate lighting and there didn't seem to be any electric poles close by to chase away the large gloomy shadows of the yard.