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| "To Be" |
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Joe: Now, wait a minute. You're telling me that this chronicle is wrong? That it was Marcus Aedilies who took the head of Titus Marconus and not Peter Gaicus.
Methos: Seventy-four BC. I had a tidy little sum wagered on Marconus too. Had my eyes on a little summer place outside Herculanium.
Joe: Yeah, but why would his Watcher lie?
Methos: Oh, come on, Joe. You know how it is. You don't want to admit to your Watcher buddies that your guy's been whacked by some sniveling little weasel like Aedilies so you make up a story that he's been, he's been aced by the greatest swordsman in Rome.
Joe: I don't know, man. I don't know.
Methos: Hey, you ask, I tell you. And incidentally, it wasn't outside the Forum either it was, um, it was in the vomitorium.
Joe: In the vomitorium?
Methos: The place you went to vomit.
Joe: You mean they actually did do that?
Methos: You eat a seventeen coarse meal where the main garnish is honey coated ants and peacock brains... We ate; we drank; we vomited.
Joe: But see, it doesn't say anything in this chronicle about him dying in a vomitorium.
Methos: Well, is that how you'd want to go down in history? (Methos feels an Immortal's presence.) We're having company.
Joe: Hey, Mac. What's up?
Methos: Or should we say who's up?
Joe: Liam O'Rourke. |
| * * * |
Duncan: They were arrested, convicted, and given life.
Joe: So why pick on Amanda? I mean, his beef is with you.
Duncan: It's an eye for an eye, Joe. Tara spent the rest of her days in jail. O'Rourke could have escaped, but he stayed there 'til she died.
Methos: How romantic but very impractical.
Duncan: I gotta get Amanda out. It's my fight, not hers. Where're you going?
Methos: Well, I'm, uh, kind of fond of the little vixen myself. Okay?
Duncan: Yeah.
Joe: Keep in touch.
Methos: Catch you later. |
| * * * |
Methos: I know you don't want to hear this, but she may already be dead.
Duncan: If he wanted her dead he would have done it outside the barge. (Duncan finds a note.)
Methos: Oh, please tell me that's not written in blood.
Duncan: It's Amanda's lipstick.
Methos: That's a nice touch. Okay, I'm gonna phone Joe. See if he's come up with anything.
Duncan: He won't be there.
Methos: Why not?
Duncan: It's from Joe's bar.
Methos: First Amanda, now Joe. I see a very worrying pattern developing here.
Duncan: This is where it stops.
Methos: Don't go, MacLeod!
Duncan: I have no choice.
Methos: That is existentially inaccurate! All right! I will come with you.
Duncan: It's his rules, the note says alone.
Methos: Rules? What rules? You think O'Rourke is taking Amanda and Dawson to play by some set of rules?
Duncan: He'll kill them.
Methos: Yes, and he will kill you too.
Duncan: Not if I can help it! This is where this conversation ends. |
Methos: *Don't go, MacLeod. It's a trap MacLeod. MacLeod, your pants are on fire.* (tb1.aif - 189K) Doesn't matter what I say, does it? Well, I've only been alive for five thousand years; what would I know about it?
Duncan: I'm getting them out.
Methos: Are you playing the hero here, or are you being the martyr? |
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Duncan: Whatever it takes, whatever I have to do I'm keeping them alive.
Methos: People die, MacLeod! Immortals die.
Duncan: Yeah, but not because of me. Not anymore.
Methos: Goodbye.
Duncan: I think you mean "good luck," don't you?
Methos: Of course, uh, that's what I meant. |
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