The older man behind the bar looked up with a smile of curiosity as they came in. Kiernyn shifted nervously beside Methos. "This is my friend's place, Joe. He's as harmless as anyone can get."

At that remark, the older man had stepped out from behind the bar revealing his handicapped state. "That's your friend? Joe Dawson?"

Methos eyed her inquisitively. "Don't tell me you know him."

"I've met him once," she replied as they approached. "My brother plays the blues and had him over to hear the band."

"Small world," he mumbled but in relief. All her fear from earlier had finally vanished.

"Hey . . . " Joe's voice faded out, and he raised his eyebrows. "Adam?"

Methos nodded. "Hey Joe. This is Kiernyn whom I believe you already know."

Joe peered at her a moment. "You're Kevin Guinn's sister, right?"

Kiernyn laughed gloriously. Every nerve in Methos's body quivered at the sound. "I'm surprised you remembered. It's been over a year."

"My bones may be old, but this brain is in top condition." He extended his hand and she readily accepted his greeting. "So, you know Adam?"

"Well, actually we just met," Methos broke in, trying to clear his head of his wandering thoughts. "She ran into a bit a trouble, and I just happened to be around the block."

"He came to my rescue," she leaned forward and whispered to Joe. She glanced back at Methos as if to tell him his secret, most likely his sword, was safe with her. "I was on my way home, but do you mind if I use your phone? I'll call Kevin to come pick me up. It's starting to rain."

"Sure. Tell Marla at the bar," Joe waved in that direction.

Once she was off, Joe quizzed Methos. "Rescue?"

"It's not what you think," he assured his confidant. "I need you to do some checking for me, on an immortal named Garret. He was attacking her."

"Garret. Doesn't ring any bells, but I'll see what I can find. How did you come up on them?"

Methos gestured to a table and Joe followed. "I was on my way here. I'll tell you Joe, if I hadn't had felt him, I would have left it alone."

"Did she call for help?" Joe's face was distorted in concern.

"Of course she screamed, but how many muggings go on every day? No one can save ‘em all. I'm not MacLeod."

"Oh yeah. I forgot. No code, no honor. Fend for yourself."

"That's right. But I had to see. Somehow, I was drawn to him. Usually I turn the other cheek. He said he was looking for me."

"Did you recognize him?"

"No," Methos lied. "Of course, who's to say I've never come across him in the last couple of millennia."

"I couldn't help you there. So what is it with her? Don't try to cover up. I saw that look you gave her when she laughed." Joe set his elbow on the table and waited for an answer.

Methos frowned and glanced at Kiernyn over at the bar. "I need a beer."

Chuckling, Joe waved to one of the waitresses. "Just like you. Avoid revealing your true feelings. Sometimes I think that deep down inside, despite all the hard times you've faced and the terrible wrongs you've done, that there's a side to you that's almost knightly."

Methos snorted at that remark. The waitress arrived and he ordered his beer. "Make it two," Joe called to her. "I have a feeling I'll get it out of you tonight, one way or another."

"And what, I pray, might that be?"

"Come on, man. You know what I'm talking about. You, helping Kiernyn, bringing her here. It's not like you. What gives?"

"I told you what gives. He was immortal, and he was looking for me. What am I suppose to do with her when she sees me with my sword?" Methos questioned. "Leave her on the street? What if she called the cops? I don't need a mess on my hands right now. I just want to be alone."

Joe nodded. "I see what you're saying. You just don't want to admit you've got a soft side." Methos opened his mouth to protest, but Joe stood up before he could get a word out. "I'll go see what I can find on this Garret."

The waitress returned with the beers just as Kiernyn approached. Joe ushered her to his chair. "Have a beer, on the house."

"Thank you," she gushed.

Joe hobbled back to the bar and disappeared behind a door. Methos, finding himself at a loss for words, kept his eyes on the band. Kiernyn sensed his uneasiness. "Kevin's on his way."

Methos nodded but still said nothing. "Why did you say I looked familiar to you? Who do I remind you of? Was it someone close?"

Blue eyes met his with such boldness, he almost came out with it. "Just someone I knew a long time ago, but she's dead now."

"Was her name Guin?"

He nodded and took a swig on his drink. This was not a memory he wanted to relive. "Are you going to be all right?" he changed the subject.

Kiernyn knew he was doing just that. "Yeah, I'll be okay. I just won't walk home at night anymore."

"If I were you, I wouldn't walk home during the day either. Call a cab. It would be safer."

"What does he want?" she wondered out loud.

Methos gazed at her lovely features, recalling the many times he had gazed upon such similar ones and found himself wishing she really was who she resembled. "It's a long story, and I'm not even sure if I know I'm correct. I'm guessing I pissed him off one day, and he swore I would pay."

"I don't think you're telling me everything."

"Great, now I've got two of you on my case," he muttered and downed the last of his beer. He motioned to the waitress for another. "I assure you, he won't bother you again."

"What are you going to do? Call the police?" she asked.

"Don't worry your pretty little head over it. Something will be done."

Joe returned after getting a tip on the latest action. He witnessed the exchange between Methos and Kiernyn as he neared, and could almost see the sparks flying. "What's new?"

"Nothing," Methos grumbled, quickly returning to his foul mood he'd been in most of the day.

"He said he knew the guy that tried to kill me. I wanted to know what he was going to do? I don't want anything bad to happen to you, Adam, or anyone else for that matter. Call the police."

"They can't do anything about him. He'll probably just go away, so don't worry. He's still an immature child at heart, wanting nothing but to play."

She did not want to leave it at that, but she noticed her brother come through the door. Kiernyn stood. "Thank you again. If there's something I can do . . . "

"No," Methos interrupted her. "Go home, and be safe. That's all you can do."

With a nod, she said goodbye to Joe and left with her brother. Joe's eyes were wide with astonishment. "What happened here? And I thought you said you didn't know him."

"She started asking too many questions," he explained. "It's best to make her think I'm a grouch so maybe she'll leave me be."

"Think you're a grouch," Joe shot back. "Now, what do you really know about this guy."

"What'd you find out? And no 'I asked you first'."

Joe sighed. "Sometimes, you're a pain in the ass."

"Sometimes I have to be. Now, what'd you discover?"

"This guy, Garret, has been around for a long while. He dates back fifteen hundred years, but no one's sure if that's when he was born again. I'm surprised you never ran across his file when you were in the organization. He's had an active one for quite some time."

"Must have skipped over it," Methos stated and started on his new beer.

"So, now it's your turn. What do you know about him? Why's he after you?" Joe demanded.

"Oh, maybe because I killed him and then his body was burned," Methos offered with a sarcastic smile. "Maybe that did the trick."

"Jesus, man. When was this?"

"A time I don't care to remember, and no, there's no record of it so don't go researching. Only a few select know of it."

"Watchers. Which ones?"

"Immortals," Methos corrected.

"What do you mean?"

The band concluded their show and applause roared around them. Methos did his best to ignore the demands Joe was laying on him, but the old man would not give. "If I tell you, which I don't really want to do, you can't report it."

"Is the reason something I shouldn't ask?"

"You'll find reason enough once you find out," Methos assured his companion.

Joe nodded and took that to mean that at closing, he would hear the tale. The time was drawing near, since the customers were leaving after the show and trying to beat the storm. "Don't go anywhere."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Five beers and a half hour later, Methos was perched on a stool at the bar, waiting for Marla to clear out. Joe called goodbye to her, and settled down behind the bar. "Whenever you're ready."

With a sigh, Methos set his coat aside and leaned on the bar. "Don't remember the exact year, but it was over fifteen hundred years ago. I was wandering at that time. I was somewhere in England, I think. It's been so long, and I've tried my best to forget it."

"What happened that made you want to forget it? Not another Horsemen incident?"

"No, nothing horrible like that, yet nothing so grand," Methos continued. "I was searching for some place to settle, to be alone. I wanted to be where no one would bother me, where no one could find me. But before I found that place, I stumbled on someone who I now wish I would have never met."

He paused a moment to take a drink. It appeared he desperately needed it. Whatever the story was, it pained him to recall it. But he had offered to tell, and Joe was not going to allow the opportunity to pass.

"He was a warrior, in armor and sword. I guess he had fallen from his horse and down a cliff. I was in the stream below a great hill when I found him. Landed on some jagged rocks, and they'd penetrated the armor.

"It wasn't a pretty sight. I knew he was going to die. I wasn't even going to stop to try to help him, but he cried out. He said I bore the face of his successor, and that I must fulfil his dying wish. That caught my attention. It was a time that I believed in foreseeing the future, and I thought he might be one that could do just that.

"He begged me to bury him in an unmarked grave. He said he couldn't bear the thought of everyone knowing how he died an embarrassing death. And he asked the unthinkable of me."

Pausing once again to take a drink, Methos glanced at his watch as if to say he had somewhere else to be. "What did he ask?" Joe questioned impatiently, like a child too anxious to wait for the ending of the story.

"The warrior asked me to take his place, to assume his identity. He was on his way to a kingdom to serve the noble king. Those were his words. Of course, I didn't want to, but he insisted that I must. It was my destiny, he said. But I kept insisted that I could never be someone I wasn't. He said that inside my soul, I was everything he had represented and more.

"Joe, you know how corny that sounds, and I was thinking that exactly. How could anyone know what I'd been through? But he continued to insist that it was my destiny until he took his last breath."

He stopped again, and caught Joe's puzzled eyes. "Before he died, his last words were ‘Make the journey for me, live my life. 'Tis all I ask.' I asked him where his journey led, and he replied ‘Camelot' and died."

"Do you mean to tell me he was going to serve King Arthur?" Joe was amazed at the information.

When Methos nodded, he asked, "Who was he? I thought Arthur was a legend."

"The warrior never told me his name, but I searched through his belongings and discovered an inscription on the back of his shield."

His glass was now empty and he stared into it, trying to group his thoughts and push away the tide of emotions threatening to flood over him. "The inscription read ‘Seeker of virtue, defender of the weak. Lancelot du Lock.'"