Fanfiction by Emby Quinn
Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander or any of the characters therein, nor do I own any characters based on actual historical personages. All original characters are my own creation.--eq
They stayed on for another week. Lucinda had wanted to go directly home, but Methos had no intention of letting the fight with Kiriyama be her final impression of Las Vegas. After all, they might come back someday.
The evening of May first, Methos took Lucinda to dinner at the restaurant in the Montecito. Word spread quickly that the wife of Ed's old friend was having a birthday, and they were both made much of.
Methos could have done without the attention, but Lucinda basked in it, as he'd known she would.
And the sex that night was truly spectacular.
He had to do this alone. He knew she understood, but he felt a guilty twinge as he left her at the scenic overlook.
It wasn't hard to find the place again; its features were etched on his memory, likely to remain for some time yet. The rocky outcropping, the sheltering overhang, the breathtaking view of the Grand Canyon--none of it had changed since his last visit.
The only thing missing was Alexa.
Methos left the figurine secreted away in a small alcove where it would not be disturbed. Then he climbed back up to where Lucinda was waiting.
She knew why he wanted to do this. Needed to do this. And of course he had to go alone.
This was where his journey with Alexa had truly begun, the first place he showed her in their travels, the place where they'd pledged themselves to one another. The exquisite little figure had been a gift to celebrate their union.
Leaving it here, of all places, meant that Methos was ready at last to say goodbye.
When he came back, Lucinda greeted him silently, with open and waiting arms. He let her hold him, neither speaking, for a long time.
It was amusing to "try on" different personas--a dress rehearsal of sorts for the inevitable. Sooner or later they would have to abandon "Adam Pierson" and "Lucinda Drake" and take on new identities. Interaction with people they met while traveling gave them a chance to test different roles, seeking the best fit.
When visiting Meteor Crater, they were an English aristocrat and her working-class husband. The Carlsbad Caverns tour group saw them as two college kids fresh from a Vegas wedding. At the ranch resort outside of Lubbock, Texas, they were a Welsh veterinarian and his French bride.
Methos and Lucinda shared a surprising number of interests in common, even considering their long association, given the disparity of their backgrounds. One commonality was a love of horses.
"She reminds me of Eponia," Lucinda observed, patting the neck of her white mare. "She could be of her line."
Methos chuckled. It was a common fancy of Lucinda's that any mortal creature she took a liking to--human or otherwise--was either a reincarnation or a descendant of one she'd known in the past.
He didn't point out that most Southwestern horses were descended from the mounts of Spanish Conquistadors.
"What do you think of Linda?"
"Was she the bartender? I thought she was kind of cute--ow!"
"I was talking about the name, Methos. For when we have to--you know--"
"Abandon our current identities?"
"What name was it?"
"Hm. I'm not too sure about it."
"What's wrong with it? It's a perfectly serviceable name, Spanish for 'pretty'--unless you don't think it's appropriate--"
"I never said that."
"Well, then, what's your objection?"
"I didn't say I had any objections. It's just that..."
"Do I look like a 'Linda'?"
"Edward? --No, forget I said that one. Edgar?"
"As in 'E.T. phone home'? No, I don't think so."
"Methos, why are you being so difficult?"
"I'm not being difficult. I'm the one who's going to have to live with this name for the next couple of decades, Lucinda. I have a right to be particular about it."
"Well, then, why don't you look through the baby name book?"
"Because I'm driving. Keep going."
"Hm. Eric. What's it mean?"
"'Really old guy with a big nose who's making his wife crazy'."
It wasn't the first time Methos had crossed a desert, and it probably wouldn't be the last. But it was a lot more fun in a rented convertible than on horseback.
He'd bought the Eagles' Greatest Hits CD back in Winslow, and was currently crooning "Take It Easy" along with Glenn Frey.
He glanced over at Lucinda, who had her head back and her eyes closed, letting the wind play with her hair.
He switched to another song and sang with complete sincerity:
"And I want to sleep with you in the desert tonight
With a million stars all around..."
Methos stiffened and gasped as his senses returned with the usual deafening rush. His reawakened heart pounded furiously in his chest, his sharp inhalation burning his lungs.
"Welcome back," Lucinda said mildly. She was driving down the highway, handling the convertible with casual ease. Methos realized he was strapped into the passenger seat, a rolled-up towel behind his head.
"Sidewinder bit you in the eye. You woke up screaming and staggered off the edge of the mesa with the snake still attached to your face. You landed head-first."
"Ouch." Methos was glad he didn't remember anything.
"So where do you want to live? After New Orleans, I mean."
"Anywhere's fine, so long as it's with you."
"Don't say that. You might end up sharing a pallet with me at a Tibetan monastery."
"After some of the places I've slept, do you really think I'd mind?"
"Seriously, though. Any preferences, yea or nay?"
"New York? London? Paris? Munich?"
"Too much crime. Lousy weather. Too many Parisians. Sauerkraut gives me gas."
"All right, let's hear your preferences."
"Anywhere's fine, darling, so long as I'm with you."
"What? You know me, Lucinda dearest, I'm always easy to please."