PART 2: "It always comes too quickly."

Chapter 6

In the office, Methos leaned over the desk to get close to Duncan. "Listen, MacLeod, I need you to do this. You know that if you just watch, you won't be able to let me know how good, or bad, he really is."

"But he's mortal, Methos. I don't fight mortals, you know that."

"He's not an ordinary mortal, MacLeod. He's already been challenged by an immortal."

"What! That goes against the rules of the Game!"

"I know that! I wasn't the immortal."

"So what happened? How did he survive?"

"The guy was after me and was just playing around with Michael, having some fun before he killed him. Michael was able to get through his defenses and kill him, but he didn't know about immortals then and didn't take his head."

"But he knows about immortals now."

"Yes. He found out when the guy came back and I took his head."

"Wait a minute. I think I heard about this. That was Allan Klepper."

"Yeah, but I don't think you're the only one that heard about it."

Duncan paused, his eyes growing dark and brooding as his eyebrows lowered. "I know. Everybody heard that Klepper broke the rules. He challenged a mortal and was beaten. He deserved what he got. So why take that mortal with you? He's a target."

Methos took a deep breath. "There's more to it. He's my lover and he wants to come with me."

Startled, Duncan sat back in his chair, staring up at Methos. "You're in love with him?"

Methos straightened up, his face growing still. "I said we were lovers, I never said we were in love with each other."

Duncan frowned, not really seeing the difference. "And he wants to go with you, travel with you? Why?"

"Who knows?" Methos shrugged, turning away, glancing briefly through the glass window. "Maybe he's nuts, but I've got to know if he will be able to handle it, or at least is teachable."

"Okay, Methos," Duncan agreed with a sigh. "If it's that important to you. When do you want to do it?"

Methos took a deep breath through his nose, his mouth tightening. "Right now, if you don't mind."

Nodding, Duncan got up from the desk.

Out in the gym, Amanda came out of the shower, her short, wet hair plastered against her head. Michael marveled at how she could manage to look beautiful no matter what.

"So, what's going on?" she asked Michael.

"Jesse asked Duncan to spar with me. Duncan said no, so now they're negotiating."

"Get ready," Amanda said, after glancing into the office, "you'll be sparring with Duncan any minute now."

"How do you know?"

She smiled enigmatically. "I know your friend," she answered with a shrug. "He usually gets what he goes after."

Just then, Duncan came out of his office and walked over to him. "So what do you think, Michael?" he asked. "How would you feel about going one on one with me?"

Michael glanced over at Amanda who only lifted an eyebrow. "Sure," Michael stammered, "if it's okay with you. I've heard quite a bit about you and your abilities. I'm probably just a poor novice compared to you, but it would be an honor to face you."

Duncan smiled briefly, "Now okay?"

"Sure, I'll just get my sword." Michael answered. He tried to hide his nervousness by going over to the elevator where they had left their bags and his sword case.

Duncan pretended not to notice Michael's nervousness and went for his own sword. Amanda locked the entry door then found a spot to watch the bout on the edge of floor with her back to the front door. Jesse came over to stand near her, his coat still on, his eyes narrowed with thought.

This was the first time Michael was knowingly facing an immortal, someone that lived and died by the sword, and he felt very unprepared.

The world receded from Michael's awareness as he faced off with the stranger, Duncan MacLeod, in the center of the room. He knew that both Amanda and Jesse were behind him. The direction he was facing showed him Duncan's now-empty office. He was waiting when suddenly, he felt a movement next to him. Glancing over he saw Jesse walking across the floor. He passed Michael and went over to Duncan.

Puzzled, Duncan waited for him. Jesse went right up to Duncan and spoke to him in a whisper. Michael could not begin to imagine what Jesse had said, but it must have been infuriating.

Jesse's words brought an instant change to the Scot. Duncan's body went suddenly rigid and his face transformed itself into to a raging mask of fury as he spun to face the young DJ. Sudden fear bursting in his gut, Michael heard a gasp from Amanda. Jesse quickly moved away from Duncan and backed up to the office.

With a snarl, Duncan lifted his sword and began to slowly approach Michael. The only thing Michael wanted to do was to drop his sword and run like hell, but he was afraid of getting run through the back. He fought down the impulse to flee and got ready to fight.

He didn't have to wait long. With a roar, Duncan was on him and Michael almost couldn't move fast enough to counter the blow, but he did. He parried Duncan's swing and pushed the mad Scot away, backing up to gain some maneuvering room. Duncan came on again with a thrust trying to find an opening in Michael's defenses. Michael blocked and followed through with a thrust of his own, which Duncan blocked, easily and powerfully.

Fueled by fear and adrenaline, Michael was able to hold his own, but just barely. The man he was facing had gone berserk. His face was red, his eyes, murderous. He was offering no quarter and asking for none. No one had to tell Michael that this was no longer a sparring match. This was a fight to the death.

Duncan was on the attack again and Michael just able to parry or block and forced to counter with moves that, of necessity, became more and more offensive. The gym receded even further and Michael's world consisted solely of Duncan and his flickering blade.

Michael made a lucky counter swing that unbalanced Duncan and brought him tumbling to the floor. Michael went after him, but Duncan rolled away, getting distance between them to allow him time to get to his feet. In the momentary lull, Michael happened to be facing the spot where Jesse was watching. The slender immortal was standing with his back against Duncan's office, his arms wrapped around himself, his face like stone. Jesse was the one who had turned Duncan into a berserker, but Michael had no time to wonder why. Duncan was back in the fray.

The battle seemed to go on forever, but it actually lasted less than three minutes. Everyone knew that it was inevitable that Duncan was going to win.

Duncan blocked a quick swing of Michael's then stepped forward, locking their two blades. Duncan used his considerable strength to push the blades toward Michael. Michael strained and pushed, his jaw clenched, sweat popping out on his brow, but nothing helped. The locked blades were coming closer and closer to his neck.

Suddenly, Duncan reached out and grabbed the front of Michael's shirt, pulling him closer to the swords. In a desperate attempt to free himself, Michael punched Duncan in the face as hard as he could. Grunting with pain, Duncan pushed Michael away and pulled the katana free. Stepping quickly back and to the side, Duncan thrust.

The blade licked toward Michael's chest, but Michael was quick enough to move to block it. Too late, Michael realized that it was a feint and the blade moved instead in an arch that swung over Michael's head and headed for his neck. It was over. There was nothing that he could do to stop the inevitable. He closed his eyes and waited for the bite of the sword.

It never came.

Opening his eyes, Michael saw the blade of the katana leveled against his neck and Duncan MacLeod in front of him, tense and sweating. It was truly over. Duncan was no longer crazy and Michael was still alive. Michael could feel the anger radiating off Duncan, but knew that it was not directed at him.

Duncan moved the sword away from Michael's neck and stepped back." Are you all right?"

Michael, still panting and terrified, could only nod.

"I'm very sorry for what I did," Duncan continued, his words very formal. "I should not fight when so angry. I could have hurt you." Glancing over at Jesse, he finished, "I could very well have killed you."

Both Duncan and Michael watched as Jesse thrust his hands into his pockets and looked away, lifting a cynical eyebrow.

Looking back at Michael, Duncan said: "Again I apologize. Be assured that will never happen again."

Turing away from him, Duncan stalked toward the elevator. As he passed Jesse, their eyes met. His face set with fury and his eyes on fire, Duncan stopped and lifted his blade so that the tip was just under Jesse's chin. Jesse, his hands still in his pockets, let his head fall back, doing nothing to defend himself. When Duncan spoke, his voice was harsh, guttural, the brogue raised by rage.

"If you ever do that to me again, Methos, I will kill you. I promise you that. I will kill you."

Turning, he disappeared into the elevator. Jesse looked at Michael, who was still sweating and breathing hard, full of anger and questions. Jesse's face settled into stone and, before Michael could say a word, Jesse walked out of the dojo.

A few uncomfortable hours later, Michael and Duncan had cleaned up and were still upstairs in Duncan's large, one-room loft. Michael was trying to relax on Duncan's couch in the living area with a glass of wine, wondering what was going to happen now and wondering where he stood with Jesse and with these other strangers who were brought into his life by Jesse. Actually, it would be more accurate to say that Jesse had pushed him into their lives. The way these people lived was very different from anything in Michael's experience, and he had the feeling that they don't easily enter "regular" people's lives. It was more likely that mortals broke into their lives like a sort of outcropping in the ongoing stream of their immortality.

Duncan was doing something in the kitchen area, maybe making something to eat, and Amanda was at the piano at the other side of the living area, picking out an odd tune she must have been hearing in her head.

Jesse had come in about twenty minutes before. The elevator had sounded and both Duncan and Amanda had reacted as if someone dangerous was heading up, facing the elevator with their swords at the ready.

When the elevator revealed Jesse, Michael expected a fight, at least from Duncan, but both immortals lowered their swords and turned away without a word.

Jesse entered the loft, also without a word to anyone. He passed through the living room area and settled against a wall as far from the kitchen as he could get without actually entering the sleeping area.

No one had said a word to him the entire time since he had arrived but he seemed unaffected by the tension in the room. His body language exuded ease and well being as he lounged against the wall, but he still had not taken his coat off and his stony face belied his relaxed posture. He had to know that Duncan and Michael were still angry with him. Everyone was ignoring him, although Amanda didn't seem to care either way.

Michael was lost in anger and confusion. He felt betrayed by what Jesse had forced Duncan to do. Michael had no idea what Jesse could have said to Duncan that would have so easily made him go berserk.

Actually, as crazy and bloodthirsty as Duncan had become, Michael didn't believe that Duncan had actually lost control. Michael knew that because he was still alive. If Duncan had gone completely berserk, Michael would be dead. He shivered as he felt once again the light touch of the sword blade against his neck.

Michael did not blame Duncan at all for the incident. He felt that the fault lay entirely with Jesse and his incomprehensible motives. One never knew Jesse's motives. It was just like that time when Jesse insisted that he stay at Robert's house while Robert moved in with Michael until Jesse left town again. It was completely incomprehensible at the time and it was months before Michael understood that what Jesse had done allowed Michael and Robert to get together.

Incomprehensible actions driven by incomprehensible motives. One had to have all the facts to understand many of Jesse's actions, and Michael had damn few facts as to why Jesse had turned Duncan into a raging killing machine.

So it was very quiet in the loft with nobody speaking and everyone listening as Amanda picked out one odd tune after another.

Suddenly, Michael found himself humming to the tune that Amanda was playing. He knew it! Getting off the couch, he went over to the piano.

"What's that, Amanda?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but it's a ballad of some kind. I don't know all the words. Do you?"

"I only know some of it."

"Well, let's sing it. We've got to wake up this funeral."

So together, Michael and Amanda sang:

From the kitchen, Duncan said, "I think I know that one. Hold on, I might have the music for it."

He went to a closet and pulling out a large box from the back of it, crouched down and started going through it. Curious, Amanda and Michael joined him. Jesse, his face as expressionless as it was when he arrived, didn't move.

"It's full of music!" Michael exclaimed.

"Yeah," Amanda said scornfully, her lip curling. "Old music. Very old and very square."

"Hey, there's some very nice stuff in here," Duncan protested, "and that piece you two were singing might be in here. I think it's called It Was A Very Good Year."

"Ya think?"

Duncan ignored Amanda's sarcasm and kept looking. She went through it with him, pulling sheaves of music out and discarding what she didn't like on the floor, which was most of it. Suddenly, a sheet caught her eye.

"Hey, I know this one! It's almost as square as the rest of this stuff, but it's singable. Come on, songbird," she said, tugging at Michael's sleeve. "Let's see what we can do with this one."

"But that name doesn't ring a bell with me," Michael protested.

"How would you know unless you heard it?" Amanda asked, sitting back down at the piano.

As she started picking out the notes, Michael hummed along with it.

"Hey, I think I have heard this one!" He hummed a bit louder.

Out of the corner of his eye, Michael saw Jesse move slightly. He had only turned his head and narrowed his eyes, but it made Michael wonder why the song made Jesse move. He forgot all about it when Amanda started to play the song. Bending close to follow the notes and words, he started singing.

"Can't," she replied. "I've never played this. Some of the bridges are complicated. You go ahead. I like your voice." She started the music at the beginning and Michael's untrained tenor filled the loft.

"Key change!" Amanda cried gaily as the song started over in a higher key. She played the intro again to give Michael a chance to come in. He looked at her stupidly for a moment, but Amanda nodded at him.

"Come on," she whispered, her eyes dancing. "Jump in."

"Amanda--" He looked back at the words, his head cocked to one side as the implications washed over him.

"Jump in!" she ordered.

Michael jumped.

The spell broke when she glanced up and gasped. With horror, Michael realized that he was crying. He face was wet with the tears that still filled his eyes and flowed down his cheeks.

Looking around him, Michael tried in vain to speak. His mouth moved but nothing came out. He started shaking. Finally, one mumbled word came out: "Sorry," and he fled the loft, leaving by the door that led to the roof. Behind him was silence and bewilderment.

"What do we do?" Amanda whispered

"The question is: what does Methos do?" Duncan asked. "Did you know about this?"

Methos's mouth tightened as he shook his head. "I suspected it, but I wasn't sure. Robert told me," he mused, "but I didn't believe him." He met Duncan's eyes defiantly. "But it makes sense. Why else come with me? Why else risk his life?"

"So what are you going to do about it?" Duncan asked harshly. "He thinks you don't love him. After today, he must think you hate him."

Methos smiled. It was so hollow and self-deprecating, Duncan could almost, almost, feel his own heart break. Without a word, Methos grabbed Michael's coat and followed him onto the roof.

Michael was standing by the wall at the edge of the roof staring off into the distance, the cold wind whipping his hair back from his face. Jesse came up to him, coat in hand.

"Here," Jesse said quietly, "put this on."

Michael took the coat and put it on. "Thanks."

"Do you want to talk?"

Michael shook his head.

Jesse stayed quiet for a moment then said, "Michael, we have to talk about this."

"Why? What difference would it make? It doesn't matter, Jesse, really. Let's just leave it alone."

"But this is big."

"It doesn't matter, Jesse. I just didn't realize that I was in love with you, that's all. But it doesn't change anything. We can just go on as we have before."

Jesse buried his hands deep in the pockets of his coat and smiled, shaking his head. "This changes everything, Michael, you should know that."

Michael looked at Jesse, who was staring at the ground. With his head hanging and hands thrust in his pockets, Jesse looked young and lost, not at all like the fierce swordsman who had fought and brutally killed Allan Klepper.

"What do you mean it changes everything?" Michael asked.

"Because now I can tell you that I'm in love with you, too. I couldn't before."

"What do you mean you're in love with me? Wait, don't answer that question. Why couldn't you tell me before?"

"I didn't know what to say. I thought you were in love with me. Why else go with me, live this kind of life? But you were always so casual, as if we'd never even been lovers. So--." He shrugged.

Michael rubbed a hand over his face. "I've always loved you, Jesse, in some way, since the first time I saw you. But I couldn't let myself realize that I was in love with you. I think I've always been in love with you, but I didn't want to be." He glanced at Jesse who said nothing. He was simply looking down and away, waiting.

"Don't you want to know why I didn't want to be in love with you?"

Jesse closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. "Maybe I already know," he replied softly.

Michael sighed. "I was afraid. You were so--so, I don't know, so hard to grasp, so hard to understand. Your odd job, the traveling, then finding out about this." He waved a hand vaguely at the door into Duncan's loft, obviously referring to Jesse's immortality. "It seemed dangerous to get to close to you, even from the beginning. Then I found out that it was dangerous to get close to you. But I thought, well, I may be physically close, but there's no emotional investment, so it doesn't matter."

Jesse said nothing.

"So, you're right," Michael finished. "This does change everything."

Jesse came closer, finally looking at Michael. "Now you say it changes everything," he said carefully. "How?"

Michael shrugged. "You were right when you said that I shouldn't go with you, that we should stay as far from each other as possible."

"Too late," Jesse responded evenly. "Everyone knows about us now. You're a target."

"What do they know? And there is no 'us.'"

"Really?"

Michael opened his mouth to answer but was stopped as Jesse took another step. They were eye to eye and Jesse's eyes had gone dark with intensity. Staring into those eyes, Michael felt his heart pick up its pace. He closed his mouth and swallowed convulsively.

Jesse smiled a tiny smile that did nothing to lighten the intensity. A second later, they were kissing.

It seemed that neither had moved, but without conscious thought, they were wrapped up in each other's arms on the cold, windy roof, kissing as if it were the first time.

Michael was devastated, lost in passion and fear. He belonged to this man, completely, irrevocably, and there was nothing he could do about it except to return the kisses as they were offered.

When they stepped back from each other, Jesse's eyes were still dark and Michael felt languid with desire, until a thought occurred to him. He pushed at Jesse's chest, his feelings of anger and betrayal returning.

"What was that all about this morning?" he demanded.

"You mean the bout with Duncan?"

"Yes!"

Jesse's mouth tightened. "Had to be done," he said shortly.

"Why?"

"You had to know what kind of life this was, and I had to know if you were up to it."

Michael turned away angrily. "I could have been killed."

Jesse shook his head. "No."

Michael whirled on him. "Are you sure? Would you bet your life on it?"

Jesse stepped back and looked up, staring off into the distance without answering.

"I thought not," Michael said bitterly. He started to go in when another question stopped him. "What did you say to Duncan anyway?"

Jesse shook his head.

"You're not going to tell me?"

"No."

Michael frowned. "Why not?"

Jesse turned back, his face cold and still. "Duncan will never forgive me for what I did today. I'd rather not repeat it."

Michael was quiet, wondering what emotions were hidden behind that bleak face. "So then why did you do it?"

Jesse smiled the saddest smile Michael had ever seen. "Had to be done," he repeated softly.

Michael's sigh came from the depth of his being. He was in love with this man, but he doubted if he would ever understand him. Almost against his will, he went to Jesse, enfolding him in his arms. Jesse clung tightly to him, understanding everything behind the gesture. After a moment, they broke the embrace and, arms around each other, walked across the roof.

"Say," Michael said, "why did Duncan call you 'Methos'? What does that mean?"

Jesse's mouth opened, but he closed it with a snap and shook his head. "I'll tell you all about it another time. Come on, let's go in. It's freezing out here."