Wiser?
No lie. I had to return, because my innate sense of responsibility and guilt won't let me just leave things like that. I got as far as sitting in my car, and then the guilties crept up on me.
Honesty.
Trust.
The things you're supposed to have with someone, and the very things I was completely screwing up.
How the hell can you have a relationship with someone when you're a complete, total, reckless, untrustworthy idiot? I started haranguing myself. You just handcuffed a man to your bed when he was being nice to you. It's no way to behave. I relented.
The sensible thing became very clear. Head back up there-apologize. Deeply and convincingly. Make arrangements to disappear. No one was facing anybody. I didn't have to fight.
For once, I was making a rational decision. Really. I'm just as shocked as you are.
I bounced out of the car, slammed the door, raced up the stairs, threw open the door…and paused while I saw him laying there, arms crossed, very much out of the cuffs.
"I knew you'd come back."
"I changed my mind."
"You also forgot your sword."
"Oh."
I'm not that great first thing in the morning. I stood there, feeling a bit like a smacked ass, trying to figure out what I had actually been planning. Nothing, actually. I didn't plan. I pretty much just acted.
"Well, I was going to…you know, blow his head off…" I started. "Shoot him up a little. Blast his head into a fine pink mist. It's a…standard operating procedure."
"Uh-huh. You know what the problem with you is?"
"I'm sure you'll tell me."
"You don't think. And the worst part is…you're not stupid. Other than everything you do and most of what you say being absolutely wrong."
He had me there. I fumed internally at myself, considering what he said. "Hmm. Yeah, uh, sounds like me all over. You know…I never did finish making dinner. Want to…I don't know, go out and get breakfast or something?"
He stared at me. I shrugged.
"I never think straight when I'm hungry. But…I should really shower first and…"
He nodded.
Okay. Point one-I did need a teacher. Point two-breakfast is the most important meal of the day. And point three-well I forget what point three is. I just realized that I might well be the world's biggest jerk. I took my shower ice cold. I figured I could use the eye-opener.
*****
"I know they don't have the strictest speeding policy…"
"Hmm?"
"Could you slow down?"
"I'm sorry…Doppler effect…can't hear you," I teased. It was fun, watching him cling to the seat when I rounded corners.
"Where did you learn to drive?"
"All kinds of places. Look, my car, I drive. Simple, easy."
"You drive like…an…idiot."
Pause. Heavy pause. I slowed down to a sensible person's speed. I turned. He was deep in thought.
"I'm sorry. I…speed. It's reckless, just like everything else I do."
"I've noticed."
"No…really."
I was starting to feel very strange about everything. I'm used to things moving quickly-I mean, it's the story of my life. If I have any real hang-ups, it's that I can't stand not moving. Slowing down to think things out, or try to just enjoy myself?
Heck, I don't know how. I move. Therefore, I am.
I stopped in front of his place. "Go on, get changed. I'll just…wait here in the car."
"You're not coming in?"
I shrugged. We had definitely broken the cardinal rule about things-it had gotten physical, and weird. It would not be any less weird if I went in there. He looked at me as if I were completely insane-but this wasn't the first time that day that I got that look, so I felt pretty good about it, and then he went in.
I waited. I fiddled with the car radio. I put in a tape. I thought. Okay, I dozed off behind the wheel. I had a busy evening. I was a little bushed.
I awoke to tap on the window. Methos had a sword to someone's throat. I took that as my cue to open the door for him. The man was slender, dark-haired, black-eyed, with tan skin. He needed a shave.
"So, let me guess. This is Akkasur?"
"Very good."
"And I still haven't had my coffee yet. Hi, I'm Genevieve."
The "scary psycho old dude" simply stared at me. I offered my hand. He didn't take it. Methos threw him into the backseat, and announced, "I'm driving."
"Do I really drive that badly?"
"Yes."
I took the gun out of my waistband, and held it on the guy. "Shotgun?"
"Okay, but keep an eye on him." I slid over, and let Methos get around to the driver's side. He fiddled just about forever with the seat.
"You're shorter than you look," he commented.
"I stand tall."
The guy in the backseat was reserving his right to remain silent and very creepy. I looked at him. It bothered me that he wasn't saying anything, so I decided to make some small talk.
"So, you know about the virus?"
Silence.
"You were behind killing Richardson, right?"
Dead silence.
"And those two people that came after me-friends of yours?"
Creepy dead silence.
"So…you have a lovely phone persona. I mean, 'Start any outbreaks, lately.' Great material. Kept me in stitches."
His whole attitude of not even trying to threaten me was kind of anti-climactic. It bothered me, because if there's one thing I really like, it's a good bit of climax. Pardon the evil pun. I cocked the gun, because I've found that sometimes gets people's attention. He didn't even flinch.
"Methos, is he always like this?"
"What, quiet?"
"Yeah. It's a drag."
"I think he having some kind of psychotic episode."
"That's comforting." I eyed the man, a bit more cautiously. "You know, I'm not this Anath-Sin person. She's dead. I'm just, you know…similar." The man looked a bit interested, so I went on. "You went to a lot of trouble over a weird accident."
"I don't think that's helping, Genevieve," Methos pointed out. "Crazy people don't like to have their delusions challenged."
"I know. I'm not really fond of it when it happens to me." I looked over. Methos was pretending to be busy driving. No one could be that involved in watching the road. "Where are we going?"
"To breakfast."
"Oh. Because, for a minute there, I thought it was going to be, I don't know-killing him and throwing his ass in a river or something."
"He came after me…if you didn't notice. The world doesn't revolve around you."
"Of course it doesn't. I lack the gravitational pull," I responded. I paused, letting that one hit him. I know being egotistical is one of my truly aggravating faults. "You, on the other hand. Now, if I was the…what, second oldest?" I asked the crazy in the backseat. He nodded. "And I knew who the oldest was? I'd be all over his ass. But first…I'd fuck with him."
Methos was truly looking at the road, at that point.
"By pushing his buttons." I looked at the guy. "Would I push someone's buttons?"
"Oh, definitely. You're one of a kind," the man admitted. His voice was lightly accented and sounded very young. "Well, not quite." And with that comment, he looked very pleased with himself.
"He doesn't think I'm Anath-Sin," I sighed. "He was fucking with you."
I could practically feel the ripple of emotion just before hearing the tires squeal. The gun went off in my hand, completely screwing up my upholstery in the back. Akkasur blinked, but I righted the gun before he got any stupid ideas.
"Why would he want to, as you put it so delicately, fuck with me?" Methos then asked, his voice strained. Oh, was he pissed.
"I don't know, he's a nutjob. Nutjobs fuck with people," I said, calmly.
"Okay…true."
Akkasur was now grinning, obviously quite pleased. "Nutjob? Ah, now, Kronos-there was a nutjob. He was the one who found the girl, after all. He may have even saw something there-who's to say?"
"Keep talking," I said, starting to feel a bit pissed, myself.
"How did you know about it?" Methos asked. He started the car again, and guided it into a parking spot.
"How do you think-Pierson?" He held up his arm, flashing his wrist.
"Mother of God," I said, softly. "You were a Watcher?"
He laughed. "Sure. How else did I meet up with Richardson? Or get the sample of the virus? I kept close tabs on all four of you. I couldn't kill you all myself-or at least, I thought I couldn't. But once you," and with that, he nodded in Methos' direction, "and MacLeod took out the other ones…well, how could I resist?"
"But…I was in research…"
"Yeah…hard to do field work when you trip off the early warning system, yes? But I learned to keep my distance. And keeping away from you was fairly easy. You didn't exactly keep a low profile, being part of the Methos Project."
"Pierson" turned a few nice colors with that. I placed a hand on his shoulder.
"He's got you there," I commented. "But where does Richardson and the virus come into all of this?"
"Lucky accidents. I was surprised when Kronos left you alive…after all, what you did hadn't been very nice."
I shrugged.
"But once you created the virus? Ah, then I knew you were kept alive for a reason. I waited a very long time for something like that. A weapon nasty enough to destroy anyone who wanted to use it as well as the people it was used against."
"Do tell," I weakly stammered.
"Too bad you never went along with him. With that face, you'd have really upset the apple cart, as they say. But really, it's much better this way-you were every bit as easy to manipulate as Methos."
"This is where Richardson comes in?" Methos asked. Akkasur nodded, but it was me he looked at.
"Your discovering him was no accident. He was intentionally sloppy, just so the message would get to you that Kronos was dead. I knew that would send you in search of Methos. Of course, at that point, Richardson was useless. Using the virus to kill Richardson was a nice touch, don't you think? It certainly got you involved. Not that the death of your man wasn't enough."
"Her man?"
"Yes, Methos. You don't know Genevieve like I do-she is a little whore. He saved her life by killing her. He showed her in minutes what she was and what she could do. And, the poor crazy fuck…you felt bad about him, didn't you? Oh, the hooker with a heart of gold syndrome. The barren bitch that you are, you have quite the mothering instinct."
"You motherfucker…" I was about to climb into the backseat and rip his tongue out of his head with my bare hands, but was stopped.
"Genevieve…he's doing that on purpose," Methos warned me. I settled down.
"Such rage, such passion. So predictable…the both of you. You wouldn't have quit until you tracked down Methos, not after what Kronos meant to you. And even if I was wrong about that, the virus would have been incentive enough to send you out-after all, you're very responsible, aren't you?"
I couldn't look him in the eye-it was too true.
"And you, Methos. When you laid eyes on her and knew who she was, didn't you immediately feel something? That face, that story, and oh, how priceless! She had every reason to hate you! Made her more appealing, didn't it?"
Methos wasn't looking at him either, but at me. Our eyes met. It was horrible.
"That's why you went after her…and helped save her from those two assistants of mine. They were nobodies-I told them I was after you, Genevieve, because of your, shall we say, underground connections? Heh heh!" he laughed. "They were so green, it was a shame. But too bad for them, huh?
"And of course, the two of you found reasons to stay close to each other-you, because she knew who you were, and you couldn't stand it. And she, because she knew she was still in trouble, and might need help. Ha, Methos…never too old to fall for the damsel in distress act!"
"I was in distress, though," I groused.
"And then…" he went on, ignoring me, "the best…she falls for you. She must have. She goes all the way to Paris to be near you-for me, this is too good to be true!"
"You fucking pig," I said, with heat. "That's not how it was…"
"But not so much in love that you can't be manipulated with a memory. This one, courtesy of your mutual friend, Joe Dawson."
"Wait a minute, Joe?" Methos asked, his voice rising. "What does he have to do with any of this?"
"He was the one who gave me the idea of using the same trick on Genevieve that I'd been using on you. You see, not long ago, your friend made a side trip to warn Amanda of a threat she was going to face…from a man named Andre Korda."
Methos' face went blank. "Never heard of him."
"He bore a striking resemblance to Kronos. All it took…"
"The guy I killed last week showed me a picture of Korda, and something…snapped," I admitted suddenly, not wanting Methos to get this weirdo's version of it. "I don't know what. I thought it was just an eerie coincidence. But…just the memory…"
"The same. You weren't supposed to kill Markov, though. Too bad about him. He was supposed to kill you."
"And I was supposed to be distraught with grief over her death?" Methos asked.
"Well, yes," I said, emphatically. "I should think so."
"Well, I'm not saying that I wouldn't be…but…"
"Enough! God, the both of you, really! So, I had to do the job myself, by going after Methos and starting this ridiculous Anath-Sin story. I knew that, by delivering him to your doorstep like that…you wouldn't be able to resist him. And if I directly threatened the girl?" And at this, he let out an evil chuckle. "So much easier if you thought you were going to lose her, huh? And like the total idiots…you do what comes naturally."
"For everyone but you, Akkasur," Methos commented, darkly. A cloud crossed Akkasur's face, but was gone just as quickly.
"Wait a minute, though. Are you saying that all of this weird shit was done to get us into bed together? I mean…throw me a fricking bone, but that's just, like, totally sick! Number one, I'd have figured out a way for my damn self, thank you very much…and for another…"
"Genevieve, please?" Methos asked. I shut up. After all, he asked nicely. "That is sick! What kind of vicarious…pleasure…were you getting out of that?"
Akkasur rolled his eyes. "Idiots, both of you. I'm not getting any pleasure out of it-I don't get any pleasure out of that sort of thing. But you…Methos, if you were dim-witted enough to sleep with her…I mean, she's-hmmm, four thousand, nine hundred and how much younger than you? And obviously insane? What would prevent you from falling for the little whore, and coming out to face me on your own?"
I shot the bastard at that point. He completely had it coming.
"Genevieve, what the hell did you do that for?"
I looked at the bloody mess in the backseat. I put a good-sized hole in Akkasur's chest, and I knew it would take a while for him to come around. "I'm young and obviously insane? Methos…we screwed up."
He gave me a look of disbelief, mixed with something else. I wasn't sure what. But I had something important to say.
"We would never have…done what we did last night…without heavy-duty tampering. I mean, let's be honest-age difference? Style difference? I'm hopeless. And you've been wonderful, really. But after we off this guy, I don't know…"
Methos had started the car back up, and we were motoring at a fairly good clip, which was sensible, given that gunfire does attract a bit of attention. "Can we talk about this, later?"
"Methos?"
"Later."
"No, I mean…we aren't going to breakfast, are we?"
He rolled his eyes at me. "No…we're going to the underpass by the river where you dumped Markov…and then we're killing him."
"Oh, I was hoping you'd say that. Although…I really could stand to eat."
*****
When Akkasur came to, he was smiling. I really hated that, and told him so. Methos simply looked thoughtful. It puzzled me. There is a lot that goes on in his mind that I don't need to know about, but I was feeling a touch of suspense.
"Akkasur…" Methos said, after a period of time. "Why were you sitting in my apartment if you were so certain that I would go out to meet you?"
The sound of the man's heart pounding was apparent. He looked at me, briefly, but not so briefly that I didn't catch it. "No particular reason," the man said, but I could hear the faint note of a lie buried in that statement.
"You figured all of this down to a hair…and yet you were waiting in my apartment-for me? Why?"
"Methos…I think I've got it," I said, suddenly. It was ludicrous…and yet, it made perfect sense.
"Yeah, I'll bet you do. He's not as bright as he thinks he is."
"I don't know what you're talking about. The both of you…are not just idiots, but insane."
"Does this mean I can…"
"Genevieve…you're awful. Reckless, and…that sword of yours is positively Freudian. I mean, why do you carry such a big thing?" He smiled. In fact, we were both pretty cheerful. Not that killing a person in cold blood would make either of us cheerful. Heavens, no.
"It feels good," I bitched. I turned to Akkasur. "Aren't big swords okay? I mean, what is the problem with a big sword?"
"He wouldn't know," Methos commented. This struck Akkasur so profoundly I wondered what the hell the joke was.
"But I want to." I looked back at Akkasur. "So, how long after you saw me get into the car before you went to Methos'?"
The look I got was priceless. Fear and apprehension.
I giggled. "Now, I really do want to do it."
Methos suddenly stopped smiling. He looked all business, and I noticed, not for the first time, that you can sense it under there, just below the surface. The threat. He may be able to seem like a nice, laid-back intellectual-type-just a guy-but he is one hell of a lot more than that. I may have mentioned that he didn't get to this age by being a pushover.
"No, Genevieve, allow me."
We were there. Methos got out of the car, and walked around to let Akkasur out. He looked quite resigned to the notion of dying, and he seemed okay with the idea that Methos would be the one to do it. All the same, I also got out of the car because I knew that if Akkasur could do the number on Methos that I saw from the day before, I wanted the odds to be more even. I'm not saying I would interfere.
Not…you know…per se.
"Okay…your sword…give it up," Methos said, suddenly. I barely recognized what I heard in his voice.
"Don't make him go for it…" I started…but that was all it took.
Of course, Akkasur was heeled. This is the 21st Century, after all. He drew a gun, and held it on Methos. My gun was still trained on him.
"Drop it, Akkasur," I said. "Don't think you can take on the both of us."
"If I'm going to die anyway, I should get to choose who," he said, evilly. "Which one? Who wants to face me-get my Quickening? Be powerless for the moment-and have the other standing by? Do you really trust each other?"
That was wretched. We looked at each other. The Game is not about trust. Friendship is about nothing but. Not seven hours ago, Methos was in my arms, and we were talking about trust. Cassandra told me, Kronos told me, hell, I even told myself I couldn't trust him. But our eyes were locked. Just because we slept together did not mean we could trust each other. Akkasur made sure we were well aware it meant nothing.
The crazy fuck had made one hell of a miscalculation when it came to me, though. I laughed. I laughed like I was going to bust a gut. I never thought I'd laugh so hard.
"Oh, god. Methos-you have him nailed. There was a reason he went to the apartment-he wants it to be you," I sputtered. "He wants to face you!" I gasped, trembling with the insanity of it. I shook my head though, composing myself.
"Genevieve?" he asked, staring at me, wildly.
"I do love you," I said, because it seemed like a good time to mention it. "Even if it was all a horrible mistake." And then, I took aim for Akkasur, and shot him. Pop. Right in the kneecap. He went down, but not before sending a round into Methos.
I stood over him, getting out my sword. Freudian? I wasn't sure what to make of that. But the comment did make me take a look at it. Nah. It just feels good.
"He'll recover. And you know…he is the most dangerous man."
"You know better why I'm doing this, Akkasur, don't you?" I smiled. The man was on his knees, and he looked up at me. "I know why. I know why you went after Methos. Why you never personally went after me. You do know don't you?"
"It isn't a coincidence, is it?" he asked, softly. "Why you look like her? She said…she would come back…younger, but wiser. And if I ever touched any of hers, I would die."
"You laid a hand on Methos," I shrugged. "You die." I readied the sword.
"But…he…might?"
"So? I never valued my life. Never. I'm a walking suicide, Akkasur. If he takes my head-please. If he wanted it, I'd have no reason to live, anyway. Kiss the world goodbye."
*****
Of course, Methos didn't take my head, or you would never be reading this. I took Akkasur, and the Quickening was-horrifying. People my age shouldn't be taking heads like his. It's too intense. I felt like I was being sucked into a whirlpool of blackness from which I would never escape. Blackness Anath-Sin had somehow caused. When it was over, I collapsed, completely drained. I could barely lift my head. I couldn't lift my sword arm. I was toast.
I could feel Methos approaching me-but my god! Tequila is nothing compared to a Quickening hangover like the one I was having. I was nearly blind. He got on his knees beside me, and cradled my head.
"Genevieve," he whispered, softly.
"Damn, you know what my problem is?"
"You mean, if I had to pick one?"
I laughed. It hurt, but I did. No one can pick me apart as well as he does, or make it sound as good.
"I haven't had breakfast yet. Not even a lousy cup of coffee."
I tried to get up. I wasn't doing the best job of it, so he helped me out. I was unsteady, but I was managing. I got to my feet, and then, just stared at the body.
"What the hell did she do to him?" I asked, finally.
"Something…we can talk about it later. I had wanted to take him."
"Tough," I said. "We do have a lot to talk about, though, don't we?" My heart was pounding, the way it usually does after a Quickening, or when I'm facing unpleasant things, or when I'm scared out of my mind.
My heart pounds a lot. If I wasn't Immortal, I'd be very worried about that.
He looked at me, very seriously. "Later."
I gave him an equally serious look. "Later?"
"Later." And he kissed me. "There's always later."
That's one of those things I'm still trying to learn. But I am learning.