Four stories about Methos

Methos realized that he'd dosed off only when the TV remote control fallen out of his limp hand landed on the pile of the empty beer bottles beside his armchair. At the same moment the telephone rang making the sleepy immortal jump with a sophisticated curse, which was in use in the days of the siege of Troy. A bad habit. Wondering who would want him in this unholy hour if the Boy Scout has just left for Paris, the immortal dragged himself to the kitchen where the piercing ringing was coming from. It could be Joe who wanted to remind him about the promise to fix his computer or his landlady who was going to demand payment for lodging. Again. Trying to invent more or less convincing excuses he picked up the receiver. The voice turned out to be female fortunately not that of the evil harpy, and vaguely familiar. Nevertheless it took him several minutes to remember who this Claudia actually was. The pianist, MacLeod's protégé? Methos opened his mouth to ask who'd given her his number and immediately closed it, dumbfounded by the invitation to meet her in the park in two hours. A challenge? Thanks, but no, he's already eaten today. Need help? Ask MacLeod, it's his job to help damsels in distress. But after a couple of hours he found himself pacing up and down the deserted alley in a coastal park, and desperately cursing himself for stupidity, Claudia for importunity, MacLeod…for his incredible talent to make him (Methos) help not only himself but his friends as well, even those whom he (Methos) barely knew. His hand fingered a pistol in his pocket, the dagger in the leather sheath nicely warmed his waste – sure, he trusted MacLeod's friends but he would not have lasted for five thousand years, being careless. Actually his first impulse was to stay at home and let her get out of the troubles on her own, but there was something in the girl's voice that spoke of the unpleasant prospect to make excuses to MacLeod should he refuse to help. Claudia Jardin appeared exactly at the appointed time. Watching the miniature woman coming to him from the distant Methos suddenly remembered the circumstances of their meeting. That day he talked to Alexa for the first time. Claudia also experienced a dramatic moment in her life, she has gained immortality and has nearly lost her gift. Not that it terribly bothered Methos. After all MacLeod's protégé was MacLeod's problem, not his. However when the girl came closer it became evident that something was really wrong – she looked awful, a pale shadow of her former self. Besides she obviously had no sword. And her eyes... Methos has seen such lackluster eyes way too often… in the mirror. But she was young and young ones weren't supposed to wither like this, they rarely lacked fire. " Hello, Adam. I, I ... excuse me for disturbing you. But there is nobody else I can turn for help. Joe Dawson gave me your telephone number, she smiled faintly, I fear he thought that I intended to make a pass on you. " She blushed. Methos of course knew better than to believe in Joe's naïvety, but he didn't want to disappoint Claudia " And he was wrong? I hoped, you know…" But the gallant remark was lost upon her… The smile disappeared from the girl's face. " Not exactly, Adam. I came to ask you ... I came to ask you to kill me" gasped Claudia looking into his eyes. Methos' jaw dropped. He's expected that she may have had problems with her immortality but to solve them so radically and ask a stranger for such things … " Excuse me, but I fear I can't help you. It's not in my power. I haven't taken heads for a very long time (he concealed the fact that last time was less than a year ago. And it was a head of a woman) and I am not going to start, you know? What exactly make you think I am capable of it? Wielding a sword doesn't make us murderers. I can't just take your head it's not fair. I'm sorry, Claudia, but you have to ask somebody else. If you can't do it doesn't mean that I…" Methos stopped abruptly, surprised by his own violent reaction to her request. Death usually satisfied such requests when asked without going deeply into causes. " Turns out that I can! " shouted Claudia "That's the problem" she added softly and looked down. Ah, so trivial. It seems that the girl has managed to kill someone in a fight and now feels the pangs of conscience. Just what he needs. Damn. "You'd better explain everything to me. I want to be sure that your life is really so unbearable, that there is no other alternative but to take it. " Methos sighed. " Then I may change my mind. " Like hell he will. He knew that if something happened to the pianist, MacLeod would hardly be willing to listen to his explanations. But if Claudia talks to him now the problem has a good chance to resolve itself. The evening promised to be a long one. Claudia nodded and they headed to the nearest bench. " It's not a murder." she managed after a long silence " It's a mercy. Music is my life, Adam. Always has been, since childhood. People breathe the air, I breathe the music. Breathed. Until recently. Perhaps Duncan told you what had happened to me. Strange as it seems but the fear of death brought me back to life. " Claudia fell silent. She quietly sat on the bench looking at her hands folded on her laps as if they were some peculiar creatures. "So, what's happened? " asked Methos after the long pause. " I killed…" " Yes, I guessed that. But Claudia, it was inevitable. You were challenged, you fought and won. You've chosen life. It's natural. You'll learn to live with it. We all have. " Shit. No, he is not Freud. " No, you don't understand. I wasn't challenged. I killed the mortal, Adam. " For the second time this evening her words left Methos speechless. " A mortal? But how did you..? " "Police considered it self-defense. He attacked me when I came out of the nightclub. I used to go there all alone, incognito. No paparazzi, no fans, you know. He jumped at me from behind and put a knife to my throat. I began to fight back. Walter once persuaded me to learn a self-defense technique, to win a couple of seconds for escape, when, if… challenged. I don't exactly know what had happened, but the robber ended up with his own knife in his chest. " " Well, you are not the first to be robbed, and of course not the last, and it doesn't mean that…" " Don't you see? " she cried desperately "When the terror had passed, I liked it! Not the killing, no! But I managed to defend myself. I was stronger. Me, who has never even slapped a man in the face! I was stronger than a bandit with a knife! I laid down my sword because I needed a fear to play, to feel. The fear of death. It's still there. But I thought that when my time came, I'd just kneel before him and it would be over. But I can't now. I realized suddenly that I could fight, that with the same hands that pulled sounds from the dead pieces of wood I would spill blood. Because ... because I can't surrender. Not anymore. Not without a fight. But I can't play now. How can someone who is ready to kill be a creator? I cancelled four concerts. I'm already dead, Adam. After that accident my immortality has deprived me of life forever. I'm suffocating. And I don't want this half existence. Duncan would rather cut off his own head than agree to do me any harm from his point of view, of course… Walter… He invested too much in the project 'Claudia Jardin'. But you, you don't know me and I don't want my essence to be lost even if I had no time to earn much. I've already written letters to my friends, they won't condemn you, I promise." She fell silent again but continued to stare at Methos' face with an imploring look. " Please, Adam, do me a favor, end it. " It was he, who had to drop the gaze this time. He knew all too well what was happening now in her soul. And the words of Russian poet came to his mind involuntarily: Genius and villainy are two things incompatible. How else would you call the Game if not the villainy on a cosmic scale? Poor geniuses who were forced to choose. Although he knew the man who'd tuned up his lyre so that the music of death was no longer so frightening. With the force of his talent he managed to melt the violence and cruelty of immortality into something beautiful. Into poetry. And perhaps he still does it. Methos raised his head and looked at the darkening sky. Titan! to thee the strife was given Between the suffering and the will, Which torture where they cannot kill; And the inexorable Heaven, And the deaf tyranny of Fate, The ruling principle of Hate, Which for its pleasure doth create The things it may annihilate, Refus'd thee even the boon to die: The wretched gift Eternity Was thine − and thou hast borne it well. " ... Yes, it's a wretched gift" whispered Claudia, "and maybe I don't have the courage to bear it well. Adam, will you do as I asked? " " Do you think, Claudia, that the author of these words has never known pain? Do you think that a man, who'd believed that the true immortality was in his poems, took his own for granted? You think it was easy, to write after the bloody fight: In moments to delight devoted "My life" with tenderest tone you cry; Dear words! on which my heart had doted, If Youth could neither fade or die. To Death even hours like these must roll, Ah! then repeat those accents never; Or change "my Life" into "my Soul" Which, like my Love, exists for ever.! For the first time this evening, Claudia looked at him, without desperation in her eyes. " Adam, are you telling me that Lord Byron ...? " Methos shrugged. " But ... " " He's never separated his immortality from his art, why should you? Because the clashing of blades drowns out the music? Listen again, they are merged together. It's the music of the swords, Claudia. What kind of a musician are you, if you fail to hear it? " Methos rose from the bench. " You are the one who hide your talent in a napkin when it can flourish  with a new vigour. You will have a unique experience, just thinkabout it..How many musicians can hear the Buzz, feel the wild joy of a battle, or the unspeakable happiness when the death has once again passed by? And have a true talent to express it. Try it at least. And then if you are still sure that immortality is not for you, come to me again, but next time, please, don't forget your sword. Show some respect to your opponent. " The motionless hands on Claudia's lap clenched and unclenched. She raised them to her face, carefully examined each finger, as if appraising the value of a rare musical instrument. " I will have to take lives and to make people happy with the same hands", she said. " Yes, you will. " " And if I can't…" " The choice is yours, Claudia. But before making it, please remember that unlike death life can be changed. By the way, as far as I know Byron in some way is your colleague now, although I doubt that you would appreciate his music. Good luck to you, Claudia Jardin. " With these words Methos turned and walked away rejoicing in his heart that he'd avoided mentioning the role of opium in Byron's attitude towards immortality.