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 Jack's Immortal 4

Enhancements

by Admiral Q O 

 

1. Unexpected Visitor

He was moving as quickly as his short legs would allow, longing for the days when his species' bodies had been more like those of the humans. Many generations ago, he'd had long legs, strong and sturdy, which had provided him with the ability to move far faster than he did now. However, after successive transfers from one cloned body to the next, his beautiful limbs had gone, and he was left with these pathetic scrawny ones that would buckle underneath him if he stepped too rapidly. Damn genetics.

He'd woken a brief time ago as he'd been told of a human among them who'd traveled through the Stargate from his galaxy to theirs seeking assistance. They'd all been taken completely by surprise. Such a visit had never occurred before; the species was too young and primitive for them to think it even possible. Nonetheless, the human, O'Neill he was called, had managed to come to them.

O'Neill had been cured of his ailment and examined before anyone had bothered to alert him to his presence, and he was furious. Didn't they know that they should have interrupted his sleep cycle immediately for something like this? After all the years that he had devoted to the study of humans, going on mission after mission to Earth, you would think that he would have been the first one they notified, but no. He was going to have to hustle to get up to speed with the others.

He gleaned what additional information he could as he passed through the corridors, ripe with chatter concerning their visitor. O'Neill had been in possession of an Ancient repository, downloaded into his cerebrum, and it had nearly killed him. Human physiology simply wasn't advanced enough to handle the Ancient technology. One of his fellows had removed the knowledge and attempted to store it, but it had proved elusive, slipping through their hands yet again. The only consolation was that they had O'Neill, alive and well - fully recovered. Perhaps his evolved brain would furnish insights toward the solution of their genetics problems. It was the most promising prospect he'd heard of in years.

As he turned the corner of the sleek, black corridor, he heard the Stargate activating in the distance and a chill ran down his spine. No...they couldn't...he hadn't seen him yet. He attempted to run, to stop them from sending O'Neill through, but one wrong step and he was face down on the floor, his tiny chin banging into it hard as he instinctively angled his head to keep from harming his large eyes. He got to his feet and continued on at a more reasonable yet hurried pace, but as he reached the gate, it disengaged. O'Neill was gone.

"Bragi!" he shouted, his voice filled with anger. The Asgard generally presented themselves as highly-evolved, benevolent beings, ones above such raw emotion, but he was livid and he was going to make sure his fellow scientist knew exactly how he felt.

"Are you awake so soon? I thought there was another hour remaining in your sleep cycle."

"How dare you send him back! He was able to process the knowledge from an Ancient repository, to use it to get here. I should have been allowed..."

"You would do well to calm yourself. We have all the data we collected safely stored. You may examine it at your leisure."

"And what if I wish to conduct further tests?"

"The Council has discussed that. No additional testing will be performed on O'Neill. He is not the answer you wish for him to be."

"How do you know that? He wasn't here that long."

Bragi raised one of his hands, stretching out his thin index finger, indicating he wanted silence. He was not going to be pushed into a shouting match. After a long moment, and several slow blinks, he had the proper words formed in his mind and resumed the dialogue in a calm manner.

"His brain's ability to process the Ancient knowledge was not the result of a natural evolutionary development."

"What do you mean? The Goa'uld? Have they manipulated his DNA? We know that some have been working on such projects."

"His DNA showed no signs of manipulation."

"What did the scans reveal?" he asked anxiously, knowing there had to be something that Bragi and the others had noticed.

"O'Neill has been exposed to the power of the Ancients; it appears to have occurred at some time prior to his interaction with repository. He has retained faint traces of it, deeply embedded in certain portions of his brain, causing it to function more efficiently as a whole."

"How was he exposed? Did you question him?" He was getting more and more frustrated with each passing second.

"We do not know how it happened, and we did not raise the matter with him. It is beyond the humans' technology to have even detected the exposure; he is most probably not aware of it. The Council has ordered Commander Thor to review all the mission files from the S.G.C. once again to see if they shed any light on things. In the meantime, we have the data from his visitation. Given time, we may be able to glean something useful from it."

"And if we still had him here..." he snapped.

"Loki, that is enough!" Bragi shouted and flared his tiny nostrils at his fellow, more upset over being pushed into an outburst than he was angry at Loki's annoying persistence. "O'Neill will not be subjected to any further study. Our monitoring of the humans will remain covert and from afar. Is that understood?"

"Yes," Loki grudgingly accepted the pronouncement. He was on the outer edge of the scientific community as it was. The last thing he needed was to act irrationally and get himself thrown out entirely.

"Good," Bragi said and walked off, leaving Loki standing alone, staring at the gate.

"One day, I will study you, O'Neill," Loki quietly vowed then he made his way toward his lab, eager to see what data they'd collected. In time, he would prove to the others that O'Neill was necessary to their cause then he would personally lead the expedition to Earth to examine him more comprehensively.

~ ~ ~

Jack sat in Janet's office and let out a tiny sigh. He felt fine, a little tired maybe, but, hell, he'd just been off to the Ida Galaxy, wherever that was, and back then he'd been put through an extensive barrage of tests by their Chief Medical Officer, who was determined to not let him leave until she was certain that he was out of danger. Apparently, he'd been headed for a pine box, six feet under at Arlington prior to his trip, but he couldn't recall a thing about the past few days. He'd been on P3R-272 where he'd peered into the Ancient repository and had his head sucked in then the next thing he clearly remembered was being on an Asgard world with the little gray guys hovering over him. Everything in between was either patchy at best or a complete blank.

Once the Asgard had emptied his head of the Ancient knowledge that had been dumped into it, he'd had a pleasant chat with them then they'd sent him back through the gate to the S.G.C. After being examined by the medical staff, he'd been accompanied by Janet and had debriefed with her, his fellow members of SG-1, and Hammond then he'd been fussed over by Carter and Daniel until he was sick and tired of having so many eyes on him. Being so closely scrutinized was terrific in the bedroom, or anywhere else, when Methos was the one giving him a thorough exam, but with others all the extra attention was most unwelcome.

At this point, Jack had endured enough and had the desperate urge to bolt out the door before someone else had just one more question, but he couldn't do it. He had to wait for the final medical clearance to come from Janet before he could leave and so he sat, passing the time by recalling in exquisite detail his last night spent with Methos. All that special-ops training to improve his memory came in handy for more than just work.

"I got the last of the lab results, Colonel," Janet said as she finally entered the room, Hammond at her side. "Good news. You're in perfect health."

"Glad to hear it," Jack said and glanced at his watch as he rose to his feet. "Looks like I can swing by the store and make it home in plenty of time to watch The Simpsons in real time instead of on tape for a change. Squeeze in a weekend while I'm at it, General?"

"That will be fine, Colonel," Hammond chuckled, his face beaming. He'd nearly lost his 2IC, and having him back in one piece, his sense of humor intact, gave him a warm feeling deep down inside. He knew he shouldn't play favorites with those under his command, but he and Jack had history between them that made his relationship with him different than most. "In fact, Doctor Fraiser has recommended that I give you next week off, and I've agreed to do just that."

"What?" Jack wasn't sure if this was good or bad. If Methos were in Denver where he could easily pop up for a visit, he'd be ecstatic, but his lover was in New York at the moment settling some affairs in preparation for his move out west. Maybe they could meet up at the cabin again?

"Captain Carter is going to be giving a series of lectures at The Academy all next week, and in light of recent events...well...I want to be sure that you're well-rested before SG-1 gets put back on the active list."

"Yes, sir," Jack said with a nod and gave a tiny wave as Hammond left the room. Once he was gone, Jack looked at Janet with his eyebrows raised. He had one last piece of business to tend to before heading off to change into his civvies. "So, Doc, in the briefing room, when you told them that my brain activity is slightly above normal...you implied that the repository may have caused it. Why?" She and Jack both knew that his brain had been functioning at a fraction of a percentage higher than normal prior to that mission; that it had been for months.

"Well, sir," she whispered and scanned to be sure no one was near her door then she closed it. "It's even higher now than before, and the repository did elevate your brain activity substantially over the past few days. I believe it may have left your brain with a kind of enhancement, as it were. Either that or perhaps the Asgard did when they healed you, and maybe even before that..."

Jack gave her a wary look as he caught on to her line of reasoning.

"Are you suggesting that the higher readings from before my head got sucked in by that doohickey were the result of some alien screwing with my brain without me realizing it? Is that what you're saying?" Oy, wouldn't that be sweet?

"Not quite, sir. I'm thinking of Cimmeria, the Asgard-protected world you visited a while back...where you encountered their technology. Possibly it took some time for the effects to manifest."

"Thor's Hammer." Jack forced himself to maintain a calm façade, while within he felt a sense of excitement as he recalled the mission. It had occurred long before he'd met Methos and experienced the Aftershocks. If it was the cause of his increased brain activity, maybe it was somehow connected to them as well? It was something he hadn't considered until now, but it made sense. He'd have to do something nice for Janet to thank her for bringing it to his attention, without specifying what he was thanking her for, of course.

"Yes, sir. According to the mission reports, The Hammer only transported you and Teal'c into the labyrinth. Daniel and Sam reached it on foot, and Teal'c's physiology is different...you would have been the only member of SG-1 to experience this effect. On your subsequent visit to the planet, Daniel was transported by Asgard technology, but not via The Hammer, and he's shown no unusual readings whatsoever. I think that The Hammer may be the key."

"Right," Jack sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "And since we destroyed it; we can't study it," he grumbled. If they hadn't, Teal'c would still be trapped inside the labyrinth because of the larval Goa'uld he carried within. They'd had no other choice; they didn't leave their people behind.

"I'm afraid not, sir."

"What about Carter? She was transported at the same time as Daniel."

"She's had no unusual readings either, but she has naquadah in her bloodstream, so the comparison wouldn't necessarily be valid."

"Apples and oranges."

"Yes, sir. As I indicated earlier, I'll continue to monitor you for any more changes, and going forward I'll discretely monitor Daniel as well. For the moment, though, I see no reason for either of you to be concerned. Maybe in time, Daniel or Sam can figure out how to establish regular communications with the Asgard and we can find out more," she said with a hopeful tone in her voice. She hated not having a definitive answer for him.

"Yeah, maybe," Jack sighed and opened her door. "Have a good weekend, Doc. Tell Cassie I said hi."

"Will do," Janet replied and watched him walk away before she went about shutting down her office so that she could go home as well.

~ ~ ~

Methos stood behind the counter at Joe's tavern, watching in amusement as two of the female patrons vied for Duncan's attention. The brunette seemed to be winning as evidenced by Duncan's gaze falling on her more often as they spoke with him. He had a weakness for brunettes, always had so far as Methos was aware; or for just about any woman in a tight skirt. Between that and his deeply rooted sense of chivalry, Methos was amazed at times that the young immortal still had his head.

"Adam," Joe called out from his office and waited patiently while Methos dried his hands then walked over.

"Yes, Joe?"

"I just got a phone call. Your other half wants you to get online," he whispered.

"Is something wrong?"

"He said to tell you he just wants to chat, not to worry your 'sweet little butt' over it."

"That sounds like him," Methos chuckled. "I don't have my laptop with me, mind if I..."

"I've got the PC powering up; just be sure to use your usual precautions. I don't need any heat coming down on the bar." Joe had agreed to be intermediary for the two men so that Jack's phone records wouldn't show him calling Methos directly. Apparently, Jack's records were periodically subject to scrutiny, so he avoided making any questionable calls that might be used against him. He wanted to have his military career and Methos, too, and Joe didn't blame him one bit. He just hoped that aiding the two lovebirds didn't end up biting him in the ass some day.

"Of course," Methos said with a smile and wandered into the office, closing the door behind him while Joe took over out front.

The change of bartender caught Duncan's eye and he graciously excused himself from the two lady tourists, providing them with one last bit of advice about where to visit while in town. As he approached the bar, Joe stepped toward the one end, stopping in front of an empty stool away from the other patrons, so Duncan took that as his cue that he should sit there and did.

"What's up, Joe?"

"Lover boy called; he wants to chat."

"Is something wrong?"

"No." Joe shook his head and let out a tiny sigh of frustration. "Why is it you two always think there's something wrong when one of our kind contacts you? Can't we just call to say hi now and then?"

"Occupational hazard," Duncan said with tiny snort and waved farewell to the two ladies he'd been visiting with as they made for the front door.

"Right. If you're finished flirting, you can set up the stage. I've got a local guy coming in about an hour from now to do a set; get a little free exposure."

"Slave driver," Duncan teased.

"I'll give you a beer on the house for your time."

"Oh, well, since you put it that way," Duncan said, giving Joe a goofy grin as he rose to his feet. "Just the one stool and microphone?"

"Yes."

"Comin' right up, boss," Duncan said then he headed toward the back room where the equipment was stored.

Meanwhile, in Joe's office, Methos went through his new precautions, having adopted the procedure that Jack had shown him. He'd taught an old dog a few new tricks, cutting his logon time nearly in half then he'd made him leave the room, so he wouldn't see how to hack into The Pentagon email system. Damn shame, too, Methos would have gladly shared with Jack how to hack into Interpol in exchange, but his young lover had refused the offer. Oh well, Jack could probably figure out how to access the agency on his own if he wanted to; hell, maybe he already had.

Jack was exceptionally talented when it came to covertly accessing computer networks, far more skilled than he led people to believe. He was almost as talented at it as he was in the fine art of making love. Methos had learned something new from him in that department, too, during their last visit, and shuddered slightly as he thought of the intimate lesson he'd been given.

Once things were in place, indicating to any prying busybodies that his computer was located on a remote island in Greece, Methos went to the usual secure site and signed in, finding Jack waiting with a chat window already opened.

Scarecrow: Good evening, Gorgeous. What took you so long?

Oz: Good evening, Handsome. Glad to see you finally made it back.

Scarecrow: Me, too. How are things?

Oz: Good, you?

Scarecrow: Fine. I've got next week off to rest. You want to meet up at the cabin?

Oz: What happened? New scar?

Methos knew that for Jack to suddenly have a week off meant that he'd most likely been injured somehow.

Scarecrow: No...just the one on my right arm, still.

Since the last time Methos had seen him, a trinium arrow had pierced straight through Jack's upper right arm, and he'd let him know about the injury during their next morning chat without revealing any classified details. Jack reasoned that he should let Methos know about such things given that he was going to notice any new scars as soon as he saw him anyway, and pausing their intimate activities while he explained how he'd been hurt was something Jack wanted to avoid in the future if at all possible. Besides, it was easier to withhold the sensitive information online where Methos wasn't staring into his eyes. Unless and until Methos had the proper security clearance, there were things Jack simply couldn't divulge no matter how badly he may have wanted to.

Oz: Then how did you get the time off?

Scarecrow: Carter's doing her lecture thing at The Academy next week and Hammond wants me to get some rest. This last mission involved traveling a long distance.

(That was an understatement.)

Oz: Ah...no wonder you haven't been online for days.

Scarecrow: Yeah...so you want to meet up at the cabin? Do some fishing?

Oz: Can't. Duncan arrived yesterday to visit. Why don't you come here and meet him?

Jack felt butterflies flutter in his stomach as he read the words on the screen. Aside from Jack and Joe, Duncan was one of only four people alive, who knew Methos' true identity, which made him one of his lover's nearest confidants. Jack had met Joe at the same time as Methos and had struck up a friendship with him since then. The process had been easy and natural given that Hammond was their other mutual friend, giving them common ground on which to build. Duncan, however, was a different story. Being invited to meet him had Jack suddenly every bit as excited and nervous as when he'd met his ex-wife's parents.

Scarecrow: Sounds good.

Oz: Let me know if you have trouble getting a flight. I can pull a few strings.

Scarecrow: I'm in the Air Force; remember? I'll fly myself back there if I have to.

Methos was so thrilled by the prospect of having Jack at his side that he'd been typing without thinking. Of course, Jack could take care of the arrangements for getting there without his assistance. He was a strong, resourceful man, one who Methos had no problem submitting to for a refreshing change of pace. He would leave things in his more than capable hands.

Oz: Of course, just let me know when you have an ETA and where to meet you.

Scarecrow: How about Joe's bar? Noon tomorrow?

Oz: Splendid; I'll have Duncan here with me.

Scarecrow: You're at the bar now? I thought Joe would contact you at home.

Oz: I'm in Joe's office. Duncan and I were helping him out.

Scarecrow: Ah. Well, I'd better go. Gotta make a couple of calls to arrange my flight then get some sleep.

Oz: Tomorrow, my love.

Scarecrow: Tomorrow.

Methos watched the screen until Jack had logged off then he leaned back in the chair and let out a tiny sigh as the smile on his face grew brighter and brighter. He was going to get to see his love, spend time with, hold him, make love to him...damn. He had Duncan sleeping on his sofa. He quickly logged out and shut down Joe's PC then he peered out the door and waved Duncan inside the office to let him know about Jack's pending arrival. They were going to have to get Duncan moved into a hotel room.

~ ~ ~

Duncan returned from the restroom, finding Methos still busily buzzing around behind the bar and stifled the urge to laugh. He'd never seen the old man so nervous. At the rate he was going, he was liable to die from a heart attack if he didn't lighten up. It wouldn't be permanent; he'd come back after a bit, but why go through the hassle if it could be avoided?

"Calm down," Duncan said as he reclaimed his seat at the center of the bar.

"I am calm, MacLeod," Methos replied as he moved to just in front of him then he turned on the water for the sink and began to clean the few cups and glasses left by the morning regulars.

"Sure, you are. That's why you haven't stayed still for more than two minutes since we got here."

"I'm simply helping Joe tidy up a bit."

"Right...sweeping the floor, the stage, the office..."

"They were all dirty."

"Yeah," Duncan sighed and stared at Methos in silence for a long moment before he could no longer contain his laughter. "Don't you think it's clean yet?" he chuckled.

"What?"

"The glass. You've washed the same one four times now. I think it's clean already."

"Oh," Methos sighed then he heard the front door open and his gaze instantly shot towards it. A young couple walked through and took seats at one of the booths.

"False alarm," Duncan teased. "Relax, he'll be here soon, and if you faint when you go into your swoon; I'm not catching you."

Methos stared at Duncan and let out a deep breath of frustration. Duncan had been hovering round about him at the loft as he'd tidied it up earlier, his mouth going nonstop with wry remarks, and then again since they'd gotten to the bar. He'd been badgering him all bloody morning and Methos had tolerated all he was going to.

"If anyone is going to be falling down around here, it'll be you at the end of my fist," Methos threatened.

"That's better," Duncan said with an air of triumph. Methos was finally sounding like his usual self rather than passively taking whatever Duncan threw his way. It was about damn time.

"Damn you and your insufferable Freud," Methos grumbled, understanding that Duncan had used psychology on him yet again, and slammed his towel down onto the counter under the bar before heading toward the open end. "Watch things while I go to the lavatory."

"Yes, master," Duncan teased with a mocking bow and laughed as Methos harrumphed his way toward the bathroom.

A couple moments later, the front door swung open and Duncan automatically glanced in that direction. The man walking in was a real looker and as he took off his sunglasses, Duncan barely held back a tiny sigh. He rarely went for men, but damn he could go for this one. He was about 6'2" with honey brown hair, a lean, muscular build, and a definite air of authority in his stance. As he casually strolled to the bar with his large navy blue duffle bag in hand, Duncan had to force himself to remain calm. The man was positively breathtaking in his black jeans, black leather jacket, and loose-fitting green shirt; and headed directly for him, making eye contact as he closed the last few steps between them.

"Howdy," Jack said, setting his bag down by one of the stools. "Is Joe around?"

"Who wants to know?" Duncan asked, his natural caution asserting itself.

"A friend. He's expecting me," Jack replied and sat on the stool while placing his sunglasses down on the bar.

Duncan stared at him for a long moment, recalling Methos' description of Jack and concluded that this must be him and took a deep swallow. He'd thought the old man had been exaggerating about Jack's presence, but he hadn't been. Jack was definitely the kind of man to turn more than just a few heads. He considered introducing himself, but opted to wait so that Methos could make the formal introductions, not wanting to step on his toes, so to speak.

"Too early to get a beer in here?" Jack asked, snapping Duncan out of his trance.

"No. One beer coming right up," Duncan said and served Jack one of his favorites based on what Methos had told him.

Jack looked curiously at the icy cold beverage, wondering how this stranger had known which beer to serve him when he hadn't yet specified a brand. As he pondered, he gave him a thorough going over with his eyes. The man was 6' tall with long, dark hair tied back in a ponytail, and a wealth of stories in the back of his deep brown eyes, which had a tiny gleam to them as well; all that and a Scottish accent. So, this was the infamous Duncan MacLeod, who Methos had told him about. If he was here then Methos must be nearby. Jack would just have to amuse himself while he waited for his lover to appear.

"Good choice," Jack said, lifting the bottle and pouring some into his glass. The least he could have done was pour some of it for him. Obviously, bartending wasn't one of Duncan's strong suits.

"Thanks."

"So, is Joe around?" Jack asked once again and turned on his charm, giving Duncan one of his patented O'Neill grins.

"Yes, he's busy in back; he'll be out in a bit."

"Ah," Jack said with a nod. "You been workin' here long?"

"Not really, just help out now and then when I'm in town."

"Lucky for me that you're in town when I am, huh?"

"Why do you say that?" Duncan asked, giving Jack a wary look and picked up one of the glasses and a towel to dry it. What the hell was Jack doing? He couldn't be flirting with him, could he?

"Do you always answer a question with another question?" Jack asked and slowly traced his tongue along the rim of his bottle before drinking its remaining contents. As he did so, he saw the tips of Duncan's ears turning pink. Getting him flustered was far too easy; interesting, perhaps a bit of denial going on here?

"Not always."

"So, do you know the city pretty well?"

"You could say that."

"Well enough to be able to show me around?"

"I could give you a few suggestions."

Jack noticed Duncan's eyes move toward the back and glanced out the side of his to see what had caught his attention. Methos was just coming out of the bathroom. The fun was nearly over, or was it? Jack slid his left hand down to his side and waved at Methos as he approached, keeping his focus solely on Duncan, making eye contact with him.

"So, what time do you take lunch, Handsome?" Jack asked loudly enough for Methos to hear as he neared them, and kept his eyes locked with Duncan's as Methos walked around the open end of the bar rather than to his side. Thankfully, his lover understood his sense of humor and had read the situation perfectly - sweet.

"Excuse me?" Duncan asked. Maybe he'd been wrong about Jack's identity?

"Sounds like someone has a date," Methos teased as he moved past Duncan, coming to stand on his left side. "I've got it. Go have lunch; enjoy yourself," he said with a nudge and took the towel and glass out of Duncan's hand.

"What?" Duncan was dumbfounded. He glanced at Methos then at Jack and watched as he downed the last of his beer. Damn, but he had a positively delicious looking neck. "He's here to see Joe...."

"I can see him later," Jack said with a wink as he put down his empty glass.

"I'll let him know you came by," Methos said and pushed Duncan once again. "Off with you now."

"But...uh...we don't even know each other's name," Duncan protested as he tried to figure out a way to graciously talk himself out of lunch with this stranger.

"Is that the only thing holding you back?" Methos asked, sporting his best poker face. "Duncan MacLeod, meet Jack O'Neill," he introduced them with a wave of his hand at each, in turn. "There, now you know his name; let him take you to lunch and save me the money."

Duncan gaped at Methos then he looked over to Jack as he realized that they'd duped him. His expression was such that neither Jack nor Methos could hold back their laughter any longer, so they beamed at each other as they started to chuckle.

"That look on his face," Jack pointed at Duncan, "priceless. Does he always blush that easily?"

"Yes. It stems from his inferiority complex...so uncertain of his manhood; not very well endowed, poor lad," Methos said, lowering his voice slightly on the last part. He wasn't completely cold and heartless.

Duncan understood they were joking, but chose to feign being indignant, flaring his nostrils at them. He then lifted his fist to punch Methos in the upper arm, but to his surprise, found his wrist being grabbed and pinned to the bar by Jack. Damn, but he moved fast, and his grip was like a vise.

"Easy, big guy; just havin' a little fun with ya," Jack said then he saw Joe coming out from the office and waved in his direction as he let Duncan go. "Hey, Joe!"

"Jack, good to see you," Joe said as he slowly walked over with cane in hand, scanning the scene behind the bar with a leery eye. Duncan was rubbing his right wrist and Methos was barely holding back another laugh. "What did he do this time, Mac?" he asked while shaking Jack's hand.

"Duncan was just making me feel welcome," Jack said, flashing a tiny grin at Methos.

"Yes. Welcome and right at home," Methos agreed, regaining his composure.

"Uh...huh," Joe sighed and glanced at Duncan, who rolled his eyes and shook his head. Poor guy, they must have tag-teamed him somehow. Too bad he'd missed it. "So, are you guys going to hang out around here, or take off right away?"

"We're going to take Jack to lunch," Methos said, announcing their previously agreed to plans.

"Yes, to a nice little bistro and Adam's paying," Duncan stated. Originally, he'd been planning to offer to pay, but after this little stunt, they'd have to wait until dinner before he picked up any checks.

"Sounds good," Joe said with a nod.

"After that, we'll take him around a bit then we'll head back to the loft so we can have our afternoon tea out on the patio," Duncan added.

"Afternoon tea?" Jack asked. Methos had never done that with him before.

"Yes...one of the few civilized things the Americans held on to...at least some did," Duncan said.

"Oh," Jack said and raised his eyebrows at Methos. "So, you do tea?"

"Yes, when time and circumstances allow," Methos answered. "Not if I'm otherwise occupied," he added, suddenly realizing that he'd never so much as suggested that he and Jack have afternoon tea. When they were alone and in private at that time of the day, they were usually in bed and tea was the furthest from Methos' mind.

"I understand," Jack said with a wink, and he truly did. In the future, he'd make a point of squeezing in a little tea now and then for his lover. It wouldn't hurt Jack to sit and relax in the afternoon once in a while, and he could always spike the tea to liven things up a little if he wanted to.

"And he makes his own teacakes," Duncan jumped in. "He just made some yesterday. They'll still be fresh enough for this afternoon."

"Teacakes," Jack echoed. "You bake, too?" He knew that Methos was an excellent cook, but baking wasn't something that had come up before. How much more was he going to learn about his lover during this trip?

"Sometimes...the things that pass for cakes here in the States are positively horrible," Methos said, scrunching his nose.

"Ah, maybe you and Carter can trade recipes. She makes a mean chocolate chip cookie...damn impressive chocolate soufflé, too, so I hear," Jack said, stifling a tiny sigh. Methos was so incredibly adorable when he did that thing with his nose.

"Carter?" Duncan queried.

"A co-worker," Jack explained.

"A hot, little captain," Joe chuckled. "Especially in her dress blues...her little skirt hugging her hips just so..."

"You've met her?" Duncan asked, giving Joe his full attention. This Captain Carter sounded very intriguing.

"Oh, yeah. George introduced us when I was out that way. I'm telling you, if I were younger..."

"Yeah, you and half of Colorado," Jack quipped. "Wouldn't do you any good though...with her brain you wouldn't stand a chance anyway. Only Nobel Prize nominees get her attention, and even then I doubt they would understand half of what comes out of her mouth. Hell, I'm her C.O. and I need a translator to get through to her to attend a briefing. Fortunately for me, I have one," he smirked.

They all shared a laugh then Duncan pressed for more information about Carter. Within minutes, he'd heard plenty to peak his interest and began to list off all his best attributes for Jack to relay to her on his behalf. A few moments later, the front door opened and several people filed in, signaling the lunch rush was about to get underway and Joe rose from his stool next to Jack, moving to behind the bar as the waitress tended to seating their patrons.

"Alright you guys. Either throw on aprons and help or get out of here so we can work," Joe said, squeezing in between Duncan and Methos.

"Later, Joe," Methos said and stepped over to the coat rack and retrieved his trench coat before joining Jack.

As Jack picked up his duffle, he noticed Duncan grabbing a coat similar to Methos' off the rack and smiled as he saw him carrying it in like fashion. Did immortals have a school they attended to learn how to carry their swords? At least Jack thought it was a strong possibility that Duncan was an immortal. Methos hadn't bothered to tell him one way or the other; he'd only referred to him as an old friend. Jack wondered just how old as he stood upright and fell into step at Methos' side. Once on the sidewalk, Methos indicated that they should wait while he got the car and took off around the corner, leaving them alone.

"So, you got a sword in there?" Jack asked being sure no one would hear him. He might as well be forward about it. He hated surprises and if Duncan was an immortal, who could possibly be challenged at any time, just as Methos could be, well, Jack wanted to know so that he would be properly prepared.

"Yes. I take it he didn't tell you about me...that he and I are alike." In the short time they'd spoken, Duncan had already been taken with the younger man and had classified him as trustworthy. He could see in Jack's eyes that he had secrets beyond those that Methos had shared with him, and his instincts told him that Jack was the type who would never betray a confidence given to him.

"No."

"Ah."

"How old are you?" Jack whispered. Maybe it was rude to ask, but his curiosity simply needed to be satisfied.

"A shade over 400," Duncan whispered back.

"So, is that kind of young for, you know...or about middle-aged?"

"Relatively speaking, young, I suppose," Duncan said with a grin. "This doesn't make you uncomfortable, does it?" he asked as a courtesy.

"Oddly enough, no," Jack said, patting Duncan on the shoulder, as was his habit with friends, and noticed his eyes scanning the surrounding area. "He's close?" he asked, remembering how immortals could sense one another's presence.

"Yes," Duncan slowly replied and caught sight of Methos' car turning the corner.

He scanned a bit more then he gave Jack a tiny smile and ushered him to the car, taking the back seat so that the two lovers could share the front. Methos glanced back at Duncan and the two exchanged a questioning look then they both shrugged off the feeling as being each other and Methos pulled away from the curb, starting them down the road.

Meanwhile, the immortal that Duncan and Methos had sensed continued to retreat into the shadows. The tall man accompanying them was an unexpected and unknown variable; approaching Methos would have to wait.

2. Dueling Desires

Methos sat next to Jack, feeling his lover's hand on his lap under the table and let out a tiny sigh. Jack wasn't one for public displays of affection, but a touch or kiss on the sly wasn't unheard of with him. He was always spontaneous with such actions and each time he surprised Methos with one, he caused him to shiver deep down inside. The booth they were in was perfect for such contact, allowing for Jack to angle them so that no one would see. Added to that the lighting was dimmed in the room, so even Duncan, who was seated on the far side of the table, seemed none the wiser that Jack's fingers were keeping rhythm on Methos' inner thigh as they sat and listened to Joe play the blues.

Joe was rather good at playing them, not great, but certainly he had the soul for it. One that had been through adversity and heartbreak and had grasped hold of it, squeezing every last bit out of it, and coming through on the other side stronger for the journey. He had a way of taking you back to those days with him, making you share in the lows of the journey until you nearly cried. It didn't matter if he sang a few words or simply played his guitar as he was tonight; the effect was still the same.

It was excellent therapy in Methos' humble opinion, far better than listening to arias ad nauseam as Duncan or Jack did on occasion. Opera had its place - in the theatre where one could watch the cleavage heave on the women and the tight pants hugging the men's endowments. Otherwise, Methos wasn't particularly interested, unless, of course, he had Jack snuggled with him while he listened, but in that case it wasn't the opera that had his attention, so that didn't really count.

"He's pretty good," Jack said and applauded with the others as Joe finished his set.

"Yes, quite," Methos said giving a small harrumph. He missed the warmth of Jack's hand and wanted it back. He gazed upon his young lover, taking in his strong features, his rugged chin, delectable cheekbones then he slid his gaze downward and began to undress him with his eyes. That was it; time to head for home so he could ravage him.

"Should we call it a night?" Jack asked. He knew the look in Methos' eyes all too well and his excitement mounted slightly in anticipation of what it promised for later.

"Splendid idea," Methos readily agreed. "I'll call for a taxi."

"It's a nice night; let's walk," Duncan said, rising to his feet. "I need to stretch. I'll see you two back to the loft then call for a taxi to the hotel."

"Sounds good," Jack said, standing next to him. Methos had pampered him all day, not letting them walk anywhere, but the loft wasn't that far and given the time they'd have to wait for a taxi, they could probably get there nearly as fast on foot. "I could do with a little stretch, too," he said with a gentle smile to Methos then he waited for him to stand before making his way to get his jacket while Duncan and Methos got their coats.

"Leaving so early?" Joe called out. He was still on the stage, having been approached by a couple of people who wanted to compliment him on his performance.

"Yeah, jetlag," Jack said, feigning a yawn. He didn't want to be rude, but he definitely didn't want to give Joe the chance to talk them into staying. He and Methos hadn't been alone for even one moment since his arrival, and hadn't indulged beyond a few chaste kisses given Duncan was constantly in the same room with them. They could visit with Joe more tomorrow. Right now, all Jack wanted was to be alone with Methos, preferably in bed.

"Time to get you tucked in," Methos said, winking at Jack and let out a tiny laugh as Duncan rolled his eyes.

"Come on you two," Duncan chuckled then all three gave one last wave to Joe as they headed out the front door.

They strolled along at a determined yet leisurely pace, discussing what they might do the following day once Methos decided to allow Jack out of bed then they heard a blood-curdling scream and froze in their tracks. Duncan and Methos instantly sensed the presence of another immortal and looked at each other while Jack focused his attention in the direction that the noise had come from.

"Help! Somebody please help me!" a woman's voice ripped through the still night air and Duncan and Methos immediately recognized it. What had she done this time?

Duncan shook his head and Methos let out a heavy sigh then he realized that Jack was no longer at his side. He glanced down the block just in time to see his lover turning the corner, apparently headed to offer his assistance.

"You're dating a real gentleman there," Duncan observed as they began to casually step toward the corner.

"Yes. Damn, chivalry...always willing to help a damsel in distress," Methos quietly complained.

"I wouldn't call her a damsel, but she does sound like she's in distress. Should we help him?"

"Let's check the odds first."

Methos took up position at the edge of the end building and peered around the corner. Down the small side street were three thugs, each around six feet, 225 pounds, give or take, who had trapped their prey at the far end, backing her up against a brick wall. After a long look, he saw Jack cautiously approaching them, concealing himself behind one of the dumpsters along the narrow sidewalk.

"He can handle it," Methos said confidently.

"Are you sure?" Duncan asked. He was glancing over Methos' shoulder taking in the scene as well and watched approvingly as Jack inched closer to his targets. Whatever he did with the Air Force; he was obviously more than just a pilot.

Jack shifted to the next dumpster, taking up a better position to view the scene going down and wondered what the hell he'd thought he was doing when he'd taken off down the street. He hadn't been thinking at all; he'd been acting on instinct, which was many times a good thing, but there were times like this when he debated whether or not he was being foolhardy.

He had no weapon with him, having left his sword at home and his dagger and 9mm at Methos' loft. He'd nearly brought the gun with him this evening, but Methos had told him to relax since it was a quiet neighborhood and he and Duncan had their swords and could easily defend him if the unforeseen happened. This classified in that category as far as Jack was concerned, but a brief glance behind him revealed that the other two men weren't getting involved - at least not yet. Jack was certain that they were watching, and knew that Methos would help him if he needed it, but for now, he was clearly on his own.

"Swell," Jack muttered under his breath and squinted into the darkness, giving the three men one last going over. The one in the middle, wearing a dark suit and blue shirt, seemed to be the leader, as he was the only one talking. He didn't have any bulges to indicate he was carrying, but the two denim and leather clad goon brothers behind him had knives on their belts with their hands poised to draw them out. Crap.

"Mr. Montrose is a reasonable man, but you try his patience," the man in the suit said, raising his voice.

"I'm telling you...I don't know what you're talking about...I don't even know a Mr. Montrose, how could I possibly have anything that belongs to him?" the woman replied and scanned the block. She was positive that someone else was there; she'd sensed it.

When she saw the tall man from earlier, his black leather jacket, green shirt, black jeans and boots, she figured that Methos had to be nearby as well. The bastard wasn't going to help her though, was he? He'd sent his stooge instead - wasn't that simply peachy? Fine, she'd have to tip her hand and get out of this on her own. She was just about to reach into her jacket when Jack's eye caught hers for a long second, as he hid in the shadow of the dumpster across from her. Within him she saw the soul of a warrior, who was no stranger to battle, and decided against drawing her weapon; perhaps he would be able to help after all.

Jack caught the dark-haired woman's eye for a moment as she did a quick scan of the street. She acknowledged him with her gaze, but was sharp enough to not tip off the others to his presence while doing so - good. Whoever she was; she clearly wasn't as innocent as she was pretending to be, but women who wore black leather from head to toe usually weren't, his 2IC being a prime example. Okay, he'd create a little diversion; she should have the sense to run for safety. Maybe it wasn't a great plan, but it was one that Jack could live with.

He glanced down to the ground and carefully lifted a sizeable piece of wood, not too wide for holding, about two inches. He examined it briefly noting the bent nails, judging its weight and balance. It had probably been a fine two-by-four at one time. He decided it would do just fine for him now and balanced it against the side of the dumpster before he stepped out to be seen, making sure that the three men were across from him. He would need to draw them nearer to him, not only to allow room for the woman to run, but also so he could remain in close proximity to the board. It wouldn't do him a bit of good if he couldn't reach it, now would it?

"You will tell us..."

"Hey, guys," Jack interrupted with a half smile. "Beautiful evening, don't ya think?" he asked in his typical blasé manner and casually lined himself up within striking distance of the closer of the two goon brothers, 'Mr. Suit' between them, with the dumpster to his right and the board within reach.

Just as he'd hoped for, Mr. Suit obliged him by stepping in his direction, giving him a disingenuous, slimy smile, not unlike what one would expect from a sleazy politician, causing Jack to instantly think of Senator Kinsey. He was another smarmy bastard; same painted on smile...the two must have been cut out of the same cloth. If Mr. Suit was the coward that Kinsey was then he would turn tail and run, or at the very least stand back while his hired hands did the dirty work. One look into his nervous eyes, and Jack decided to keep his primary focus on the goons; after all they were the ones who were armed.

"We're having a private conversation here, friend," he sneered, trying far too hard to sound intimidating. "Company's not welcome, so you can turn around and leave."

"Is that right, Miss?" Jack asked, making eye contact with her. As she shook her head 'no' in response, Jack let out a deep breath and pursed his lips. "Didn't think so," he sighed and pivoted away, grabbing the board and whirling back around, hitting the one goon brother hard and solid in the right side of his rib cage before he knew what had hit him, knocking the breath right out of him and causing him to stumble backwards into Mr. Suit. Fortunately for the goon, Jack was gentleman enough to not score him with the side the nails were on. If the guy would back down, Jack was willing to take the woman and walk away without inflicting any serious damage.

"Run!" Jack yelled, seeing the woman was clear to do so, as Mr. Suit and the one goon went past her and lifted the board to his shoulders, taking a high guard as the second goon circled round his two associates, heading straight for Jack, switchblade in hand.

"Impressive," Duncan said as he saw Jack and the one goon begin their dance, moving cautiously as they assessed each other.

"I've been working with him," Methos replied with pride in his tone.

"Oh, he seems to be doing well anyway," Duncan said and cringed as Jack landed a blow with the board to the goon's hand, sending his knife flying through the air. "That had to smart."

"Yes, quite," Methos grumbled, not pleased with Duncan's previous commentary. He then fixed his eyes on Jack and positioned himself better just in case he needed to spring out to help him and took a deep breath as the first goon came back to his feet.

Jack centered his stance between the two men, placing himself between them and the woman then he made his attack, swinging the board and connecting with the one man's chin, sending him to the ground, and the other man's side, driving him back. They were good hits, but the force of the vibration traveling along the wood caused Jack to lose his grip as the recoil was simply too much for him. He quickly looked to check Mr. Suit and to his surprise saw the woman hauling off with a two-fisted blow from behind, hitting him on his shoulders and sending him crashing to the ground.

"Get outta here!" Jack shouted at her, but she wasn't showing any signs of leaving as she began kicking the man she'd just floored. The next thing Jack knew, goon number one was charging at him, knife in hand, and careening them both into the closest dumpster and down onto the pile of empty cardboard boxes sitting beside it. As they landed, Jack could smell the guy's atrocious garlic breath as he panted over top of his head, causing him a brief moment of nausea. Just great...getting knocked out by bad breath - how would he explain that one back at the base?

"Ouch," Methos commented and winced as Jack was punched squarely across the jaw. "Get up, Sweetheart," he whispered and moved a step closer, feeling Duncan's breath on his neck as he remained closely at his side. Neither of them wanted to get involved for a host of reasons, but if Methos determined that Jack required assistance, he would move without hesitation and he knew that Duncan would be right with him. Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that.

Jack wrestled with the man over top of him, holding onto his right wrist, keeping the knife from doing any damage as he endured punches coming from the guy's left. If only he could get hold...wait...legs free? Jack wiggled a bit and brought his knees up, sudden and unexpectedly, jamming the goon in the stomach and lifting him up and over his head, flipping him and sending him smashing into the wall. He'd be out for a while. One down, two to go.

Jack then grabbed the woman away from Mr. Suit, who was still on the ground, albeit now on one knee and shoved her to the other side of him, back toward Methos and Duncan. He was sure they were still there. They wouldn't leave him.

"Go!" he ordered and placed himself between her and the two men as Mr. Suit finally rose to his feet and the other goon brother came at him, seething with anger and firing off a right jab, which Jack barely side stepped. Taking up his boxing stance, Jack returned fire with a left jab to the goon's chin, forcing him into Mr. Suit, once more sending the pathetic excuse for a man to the ground. Maybe he'd wise up and stay there.

Needing a bit of room and a good, deep breath, Jack stepped back a few more paces, staying in the center of the street while the goon came at him once again, leveling a series of flying jabs and punches with Jack blocking a good two out of every three. Then it happened. The goon got lucky with a right cross that nailed Jack and cut his lip. Damn, but he had to keep his left up better. He shook it off and successfully blocked a few more blows then decided he'd had enough.

"Screw this shit," Jack grumbled under his breath as he dodged a right jab then he dropped down to a squat and did a sweeping kick, knocking the man off his feet. "Nighty, night, Asshole," he smirked and landed one final punch square to the face, putting him down for the count.

Jack let out a deep breath and wiped at his swollen lip then caught sight of Mr. Suit from the corner of his eye. The jerk had found he had some balls after all and was coming directly at him. His head still turned down, he saw one of the knives just a long step away and lunged for it. He'd just gotten hold of it when suddenly the woman appeared behind the smarmy bastard and hit him firmly in the back of the head with the butt end of a sword, sending him to join his associates in dreamland.

"Thanks for your help," she said and held her left hand out to aid Jack to his feet.

"You're welcome," Jack said, taking her hand. "Why didn't you bring that out sooner?" he asked as he folded and pocketed the knife. At first glance, it had a seemingly superior blade, and as they say, 'to the victor go the spoils', so now it was his. Besides, he'd touched it and he didn't want his fingerprints found on any weapon left lying around.

"I didn't want them to see it," she explained. "Amanda," she introduced herself as she pulled out a red kerchief then she began wiping the dirt and blood from Jack's face.

"Uh...Jack," he replied and eyed her cautiously. She was about 5'7", slim yet muscular build, with short dark hair, silky like a raven's wing, and deep green eyes that held stories of pain as well as mischief. Could she be another immortal? Damn, was the city crawling with them, or what?

"We should get out of here before they come to," Methos said as he approached them. "I'll do that, Amanda," he said and grabbed the cloth from her hand as he pushed in between her and Jack. There was no way he was letting her even try to get her seductive paws on his man.

"You know each other? Guess that explains the sword," Jack chuckled then he winced as Methos wiped a bit too hard. "Tender."

"Sorry, my love," Methos whispered.

"Love?" Amanda asked and smiled as she put her sword away. "Guess I know what you've been up to since the last time we hooked up, Me...uh...old man."

"Hooked up?" Jack asked. What was she, an old girlfriend?

"Figure of speech," Methos said and handed the cloth to Jack so he could wipe the blood from his hands then he turned to Amanda with a look of disgust on his face. Whenever she showed up unannounced, she brought trouble with her. It was the last thing he either wanted or needed with Jack in town.

One of the goons then started to move and Duncan let out a sigh of frustration as he quickly kicked him in the side of the head, knocking him back out before he could fully focus on them. He and Methos hadn't been seen, and he wanted to keep it that way.

"We're leaving," Duncan stated as he took hold of Amanda's upper arm. "We'll sort this out at the loft," he said and escorted her toward the main street.

Jack and Methos exchanged expressions of utter annoyance then Methos ran his hand gently along Jack's shoulder.

"You did well. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks," Jack whispered and gave Methos a brief kiss on the lips, feeling a sting from his own and not caring. "She's one of you, isn't she?"

"Yes."

"The fourth person?" Jack guessed as he pocketed the kerchief.

"Yes...it's a long story," Methos said then silenced as Jack ran his fingers across his lips.

"You can tell me later. If she can be trusted to not tell about you then she won't say anything about us."

Methos gave Jack a startled look as he realized what he'd done. He'd acted purely on instinct, tending to his lover, openly showing his emotion. Damn, he was usually far more controlled when it came to his actions. If he wasn't more careful, he just might do something stupid and end up losing his head as a result. Being in love with Jack had spun him into a whirlwind, disrupting his life, his routines. He wasn't going to complain, he was ecstatically happy, but the reality was that he was going to have to get more focused. He'd start by taking up his meditation regimen again...tomorrow once he'd finished with ravaging Jack.

"Once she knows you're military; she'll keep her mouth shut, but she can't be completely trusted," Methos cautioned.

"I figured that," Jack smirked. "I know a few people like that, too," he chuckled. "Just promise me one thing."

"Yes?"

"You'll send them away as soon as possible. All this adrenaline has me wanting you even more than before," he said in a seductive tone of voice.

"Right," Methos sighed and fell into step at Jack's side as they took off, walking at a hurried pace to catch up with Duncan and Amanda.

~ ~ ~

Methos unlocked his front door and waved for Duncan and Amanda to enter first then he guided Jack to just inside the entry and held him still while he secured the door behind him. Once the other two were at the top of the flight of stairs, Methos pinned Jack to the wall for a deep, passionate kiss, gently running his tongue along the cut on Jack's lip as he pulled away.

"I'll have them out of here within thirty minutes."

"That long?" Jack asked and ran his fingers across the exposed portion of Methos' chest.

"Sooner if the taxi gets here first."

"Deal," Jack said and pressed Methos to the opposite wall for a short, exploring kiss, leaving him a bit winded as they finally started up the stairs.

"I'll make coffee?" Duncan offered as Methos stepped onto the landing.

"No. Call a taxi," Methos said and watched while Duncan moved to do so then he hung his coat while Jack hung his jacket.

"You don't need to be rude," Amanda said, turning on her charm. "So, where'd you learn to fight, Jack?"

"He's Air Force," Methos stated in a most serious tone of voice.

"U.S., not R.A.F., I take it?" she teased with a wink toward Jack. If only he weren't already taken...oh well, she could always count on Duncan for a brief interlude.

"Yes," Jack answered with a slight grin and moved toward the sitting area. Amanda amused him. She reminded him a lot of an old girlfriend he'd dated while at The Academy - playful, strong-headed, and definitely dangerous. He'd keep a guarded eye on her, as he was sure that Methos did the same.

"What sort of trouble are you in this time?" Methos asked and sat on the sofa with Jack taking his seat at his side.

"Can I at least sit down?" she asked sarcastically as she ran her hand along the arm of one of the black leather chairs. Damn, what a grump he could be.

"Yes, but don't get too comfortable," Methos said and glanced at Duncan, who was joining them. "How long?"

"Twenty max," Duncan calmly responded as he took the empty chair. He knew to keep his mouth shut and do as he was told. No matter how often Methos might show up unannounced at someone else's place, he detested unexpected company at his own with very few exceptions, and Amanda wasn't one of them.

"That's how long you've got," Methos said, looking to Amanda.

"Fine," she said with a tiny harrumph. "Those guys back there work for Victor Montrose. They think that I'm Sandra Ruscha, who, apparently, stole some sensitive files from his computer."

"Why should I care?" Methos asked.

"I came to ask for your help in finding her. I'm not familiar with her name...from what I've pieced together she's been shadowing me for at least the past month and knows my M.O....unfortunately."

"M.O.?" Jack asked cautiously.

"I used to make a living by acquiring rare items for people," Amanda carefully explained.

"She's a thief," Methos translated. "What did you steal from Montrose?"

"A Monet, but I swear I never went near his computer," she said and looked at Duncan. "It's the one that you gave me decades ago...that got lost when I had to rush out of town, remember? Anyway, I finally found it and wanted it back. Technically, it's still mine..." she trailed off, batting her eyelashes.

"Terrific," Duncan sighed. "So, this Ruscha woman followed you in or what?"

"Maybe, or she may have come along soon after...I don't know. I put up a fake...they didn't seem to notice the painting was gone...or they don't care..." she said with a shrug.

"I still don't see why I should care," Methos stated firmly. Her sweet and innocent routine wasn't going to work on him.

"I reason that she's either an immortal, who keeps a safe distance, or that possibly she's one of your former associates. Either way, you're my best chance to find out," she said giving Methos her best puppy-dog eyes. "I'd owe you one...anything you want."

"What did you have in mind?" Methos reluctantly asked. Certain of Amanda's exceptional talents might be useful someday, and having her in his debt...hell, that alone made it worth his time to at least listen to her proposition.

"You can still access their files, right?"

"Whose files?" Jack chimed in. What was she trying to drag his man into?

The three immortals looked at each other for a long moment then Methos broke the silence.

"There are mortals called Watchers, who monitor immortals, keeping records on us for posterity. I posed as one for a while, doing research."

"On yourself or others?" Jack quipped.

"Both, actually. Their existence is safely guarded and has to stay that way. Too many problems are created whenever one of us finds out about them," Methos said with a heavy sigh as he recalled the last time it had happened. The result had been one gigantic mess with both immortals and mortals among the dead before it was over.

"Not all immortals have a moral compass keeping them in check," Duncan added. "Many go through a phase when they're out for nothing more than blood and the most heads they can take...some never get past it. If one of them finds out he's being monitored, his Watcher won't live long enough to report it."

"And you still have access to these Watchers' records?" Jack asked, making sure he understood.

"Yes, they're not as readily accessible as they used to be, but I can still get to them," Methos said and fielded a knowing glare from Duncan.

Although Methos was no longer involved with the Watchers, Joe still was, so all he had to do was visit Joe's copy of The Watchers' database; it was certainly easy enough to hack into. Unfortunately, Joe had caught him once with his hands literally on the keyboard and hadn't been pleased, so now Methos was forced to be more covert in his accessing of it, working remotely with his laptop. It was a longer, more tedious process than before, but getting the information was still child's play.

"You don't still...not since he caught you that time," Duncan began.

"He doesn't know and he doesn't need to know," Methos said returning Duncan's glare.

"I can't believe this. What about trust?"

"I do what I need to survive; he knows that as well as you do. They wouldn't even have the damn database if I hadn't been there to help create the bloody thing. I use it to avoid confrontation, not to hunt..."

"Often," Duncan interrupted.

"Damn you," Methos shouted. "Who are you to pass judgment on me? You've turned to him for information and nearly gotten him killed. At least with my method, his life isn't put in danger."

"Yeah, well, at least I was up front about it. He knew what he was doing...and it was never for bloodlust," Duncan countered, raising his voice to match Methos'.

"Never?" Methos pressed, knowing better and locked eyes with Duncan as they ceased using words to convey their thoughts. The incident that Methos referred to was one that only the two of them knew anything about. Duncan had lost someone dear to him and had wanted revenge; Methos hadn't blamed him and had accommodated his request. They had both acted in a cold, calculated manner throughout the entire incident, doing nothing more than satisfying Duncan's rage. No matter how close Amanda and Jack were to them; neither wanted the specifics aired in front of them; the whole thing was best buried.

Jack looked back and forth at the two men, watching their unspoken argument, glad that he was in the dark for once. He had a most uncomfortable feeling that he didn't really want to know the details behind the tension flowing between them. That was one thing he'd learned early in command school - don't ask a question unless you're certain you want to know the answer. It ranked right up there with never leave a man behind; don't volunteer information; and never sleep with your 2IC. As the silence continued, Jack finally cleared his throat, wanting to move them forward.

"So, that's how you knew to get out of town when those two young immortals were fighting each other?" Jack asked.

"Yes," Methos sighed and squeezed Jack's right hand as he drew it to his lap. "I'll check, Amanda, but not with you here to watch how it's done."

Duncan leaned back in his chair, letting out a tiny sigh. Methos was offering a compromise, but the situation still didn't set well with him - not well at all.

"Duncan, you won't..." Amanda began, but he raised his hand to silence her.

"I won't say a word to him," Duncan said quietly. As much as he disliked going behind Joe's back for the information, he could understand why they were doing it. He would keep his mouth shut and file this away with all the other secrets that he wished like hell he didn't have to keep.

"Alright, come here for tea tomorrow and I'll let you know what I've found out," Methos said, looking to Amanda.

"Tea? Why not in the morning?" she protested.

"Teatime or not at all," Methos countered with a 'don't mess with me' glare. Why couldn't she simply accept his terms without question for once in her life?

The horn of the taxi then sounded as if on cue, causing Duncan to move to the window to signal that they'd be right down.

"Come on, Amanda. I'll drop you off at your hotel," Duncan said, ever the gentleman.

"I don't have one," she said and glanced coyly at Methos. "I had planned to talk my way into staying here."

"Three's a crowd," Methos said curtly.

"You can stay with me," Duncan sighed and took hold of Amanda's arm, guiding her to the stairs.

"Good night," Jack called out after them and ran his hand along Methos' rear, fondling it. Just a few more moments...he could practically taste Methos already. They could discuss Amanda later; after he'd gotten the desire to fuck his lover senseless out of his system.

"Call before you come over and not before mid-afternoon," Methos said and slipped away from Jack and down the stairs to see them off. Once Duncan and Amanda were safely on their way, he locked up and made his way back to the sitting area, but Jack wasn't there. He scanned the large room, checking the raised sleeping area and the open kitchen, but his lover was nowhere to be seen.

"Jack?" he called out then he heard the shower running and saw Jack's boots behind the sofa, first one then the other, followed by his socks, then his shirt and then his pants, marking a trail for him to follow. "Lovely," he growled and picked up the garments as he moved along toward the bathroom.

Methos paused briefly at the door, stacking Jack's clothes neatly on the floor outside it then he slipped out of his own before turning the knob. Instantly, soothing steam caressed Methos' face and the scent of vanilla tickled his nose; Jack must have found his massage oil and planned this earlier - lucky him. He scanned the sink and saw the tiny bottle sitting next to the soap dish where Jack had poured some out, allowing its aroma to infuse the air as it mixed with the steam. He breathed in deeply, savoring it and licked his lips, watching the silhouette of the man he loved behind the shower doors as he soaped down.

"Save some of that for me," Methos purred as he quickly joined him.

"Just getting the first layer off for you," Jack said with a smile and put down the soap as Methos drew him in for a kiss.

The kiss started out slow and lingering then turned hungry with their tongues dueling for supremacy as their hands zeroed in on one another's rapidly growing cocks. They stroked in synchronicity, so familiar with each other, as if they'd been lovers for years, not merely months; each pass filled with electricity as they quickly reeled toward the edge.

"Easy," Methos said, breaking away then he slowed his strokes, guiding Jack to do the same as they began feasting on necks and shoulders, whatever their lips could reach.

"Damn, but I missed you," Jack whispered, "I didn't realize how much."

"Me, too," Methos whispered back and teased Jack's throat with his tongue, eliciting a moan from him, feeling the vibration travel straight to the back of his mouth.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," Methos sighed and moved down Jack's upper right arm, searching for the scar Jack had told him about, finding it still pink, so new. He suckled it gently, wondering what his lover had been doing at the time of the injury, whether he'd been on Earth or up in orbit. Methos' gut told him that the rumors surrounding Cheyenne Mountain were in part true - that certain personnel assigned there had in fact been sent into space. Jack had neither confirmed nor denied his suspicion, but now wasn't the time to discuss it. For now, his desire to hear Jack crying out his passion was stronger than his desire to know the truth.

Jack noticed where Methos was lingering and intensified his attentions to his lover's cock to take his focus away from the spot. It worked like a charm, as Methos slithered his tongue back up to Jack's right ear and began to nibble on it, matching his rhythm once again to that of his lover. They then started to feed off each other, stroking harder and faster like dueling banjos until Jack went weak in the knees.

"Methos...I'm..." Jack managed to get out, and then let out a deep groan as he began his release. A split second later, the Aftershock hit them - hard and fast before either could brace for it. Methos immediately lost his control, spilling his seed over Jack's hand as the two of them fell into the wall beside them, panting to catch their breath.

"Damn, it's never been so sudden," Methos whispered and rinsed his hand before pulling Jack into a warm embrace. "That one was stronger than any before...are you okay?"

"Just fine," Jack sighed and nibbled on Methos' right ear. "Little dizzy, but it'll pass," he whispered and began working his way down his lover's neck.

"Something's happened to you, hasn't it?" Methos' curiosity was taking over, mixed with concern for his lover.

Jack gazed into Methos' eyes, seeing them touched with concern while still darkened with passion and gently caressed his cheek. At times his mind just wouldn't shut down, but Jack knew how to fix that.

"My brain activity level is up again, but the doc said it's nothing to worry about," Jack said, throwing him a bone then he kissed the tip of Methos' nose, drawing away slowly, sucking the tip slightly before letting go. "We can talk about it later..." he trailed off and zoomed in on one of Methos' most sensitive spots, focusing his tongue on it like a laser.

"You're cheating again," Methos whispered as his brain turned to mush. Never before had a lover been able to dominate him so effortlessly.

"You know you love it," Jack purred and reached back to shut off the water. "Time for you to tuck me in," he smirked then he guided Methos out of the shower, kissing him all the way out to the sleeping area until they tumbled onto the bed.

~ ~ ~

Jack woke as his internal alarm clock held true to form, waking him early for a Sunday morning. He peered at the clock and, sure enough, it was just after 06:00, oh well. He shifted slightly, spooning in even tighter behind Methos, taking in his scent then caught a whiff of the stagnant, lingering odor from their making love and let out a tiny sigh. They probably should have changed the sheets prior to going to sleep, but the third Aftershock had left both of them so dizzy that they'd barely managed to arrange the covers before passing out. At least they'd both had the chance to bottom.

"Good morning, my love," Methos purred, pressing his rear into Jack's groin, feeling the delicious friction. Usually, Methos wore boxers to bed, but he never did when Jack was with him. He relished the feel of flesh against flesh far too much to not indulge while he had the chance.

"Good morning. Sorry to wake you," Jack said and slid back, allowing Methos to turn onto his back.

"I've been awake for a while...not long. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine. You all right?"

"I'm always all right...you know that," Methos whispered and caressed Jack's cheek. "We'll have to pace ourselves better from now on."

"Why? My recovery time is faster than it used to be."

"Yes, and that's wonderful, my love, but with the Aftershocks being stronger...more than just our cocks have to recover. I've never been exhausted so quickly...we need to give our bodies more time in between. The increase in your levels must be causing it and reacting with our nervous systems..." he trailed off, pondering the sensations that he'd experienced, comparing them to the ones prior.

"Yeah, I guess so," Jack sighed and rolled his eyes. How he'd ever fallen so hard and so fast for a scientist was positively mind-boggling at times.

"We can talk about it later," Methos offered, seeing the look of frustration on Jack's face then he drew him in for a tender kiss.

"Sure," Jack sighed as they broke apart. "Right after we talk about Amanda and the Watchers."

"Fair enough," Methos agreed and sat up, nudging Jack to do the same. "Shower?"

"Good idea. You start the coffee; I'll strip the bed and meet you in there."

"Deal," Methos said with a smile and gave Jack one more kiss before sliding off toward the kitchen.

As Jack removed the sheets, he heard an all too familiar sound and figuratively kicked himself. It was his cell phone. Why hadn't he turned the damn thing off?

"Is that your phone?" Methos called out.

"Yeah, ignore it."

"Are you sure? It might be important."

"I'll check my messages after breakfast. I promised to make you one of my classic omelets, remember?" Jack asked as the phone stopped ringing, the call rolling into voice mail.

"Right," Methos sighed and licked his lips. Jack had an exceptional talent for making incredibly delicious omelets. He quickly finished setting up the coffee maker and padded off, joining Jack just as he turned on the shower.

Meanwhile, in his apartment in Colorado Springs, Daniel hung up the phone, opting to not leave a message. He'd known it was a long shot that Jack would actually answer while on leave, but he'd wanted to run his idea past him before he spoke with General Hammond in the morning. Oh well, that wasn't going to happen - at least he could say that he'd tried.

He took a sip of coffee and returned to his PC then he settled in and began to proofread his proposal for an outside consultant. Doctor Adam Pierson was a prime candidate in his opinion, holding a Doctorate in Ancient History, specializing in Egypt and Greece, a Masters in Linguistics, and a Masters in Biochemistry. It was an odd combination, but Daniel hadn't thought it was a reason for concern, so he'd checked into his background, thinking that he might be a prospective recruit for the S.G.C. someday in the future. Adam had checked out clean - not squeaky clean, but there was nothing to indicate that he would be a security risk.

The only thing that had struck Daniel as truly strange was how it could be that Adam and Jack had ever hit it off and become friends. If they hadn't been introduced to one another by one of Hammond's oldest and dearest friends, Daniel doubted that Jack would have ever given the guy the time of day. Yet, there they'd been a few weeks prior, the three of them sitting in Jack's living room, sharing beer and pizza. He'd never figure out Jack O'Neill; he should stop trying.

Daniel stared at the phone and let out a tiny sigh. He'd really wanted to run this by Jack first, but current events no longer afforded him the luxury. Daniel had come across a variation of Ancient Greek inscribed on an artifact brought through the Stargate by one of the archaeological teams, and he'd hit a brick wall attempting to translate it. He'd even run it by Teal'c to see if he recognized it, but the Jaffa had been unable to equate it with any dialect of Goa'uld that he was aware of, leaving Daniel in a bind.

The pencil-pushing geeks at Area 51 were impatiently pressing for the item in question to be transferred to their facility for study. That meant that Daniel needed to finish his translation this week before SG-1 was put back on active rotation, or it would be shipped out as soon as he was through the Stargate and he'd most likely never see it again. He hated when that happened, and was resolute that it wouldn't this time. If all went well, he'd get Hammond's permission in the morning and be free to contact Adam concerning the text. Hopefully, he'd be available to meet with him.

3. A Golden Opportunity

Jack sat out on Methos' patio, staring off into the early evening sky, dreaming of later when they would once more be alone. He liked Duncan, and Amanda wasn't exactly unpleasant to be around, but he was used to spending his downtime with less of a crowd. He rarely took vacations with more than one person, most times preferring to be off solo; it was just his way. A team night out, or having people over to his house, yes, he could go for that and did on a semi-regular basis, but going on a trip out of town with a group felt too much like leading a unit out into the field and that defeated the whole purpose.

Tea had gone well, starting out with Amanda providing a small fashion show of sorts, modeling a few outfits that she'd conned Duncan into buying for her. As Jack had observed her flirtatious display, he'd wondered just how old she was. She looked about ten years older than Carter, but Jack knew the age gap between them was far more substantial. Over breakfast, the best Jack had been able to get out of Methos was that she was 'somewhere in the neighborhood of a thousand give or take a few centuries'. That was close enough. The bottom line was that she was too young to have been alive at the time the Goa'uld were on Earth, and so Jack could dismiss her as a possible source of information, which was good since he really didn't feel like working this week.

Now that the pleasantries had ended, their discussion was shifting from boutiques and bistros to the topic of Sandra Ruscha and Jack was purposely staying out of it, watching the other three move inside as the conversation proceeded.

"There's no trace of her in the database," Methos announced as they moved past the kitchen toward the central seating area.

"There has to be; you must have missed it," Amanda instantly replied.

At Amanda's words, Jack casually rose to his feet with cup in hand and slipped into the kitchen where he could lean on the counter and look out at the living room. As expected, he could see in Methos' eyes, even from the distance that her comment had gone over about as well as a nun at a bachelor party. Methos had spent hours after breakfast ignoring Jack and combing the damn database for the woman. If he said she wasn't in there then she wasn't in there.

"I did not miss anything, Amanda. You were wrong; she's not in there," Methos said, deliberately maintaining a calm manner then he sat back casually in his usual corner of the sofa and flashed a tiny grin at Jack. Damn, but he loved the look of his tall, handsome man in the kitchen. There was something about Jack in such a domestic setting that really turned him on; and the little imp new it, too. Whenever Jack and Methos spent time together in the kitchen, they ended up kissing and sometimes more. It was enough to make Methos consider eating out far less often than he was accustomed to.

Amanda glanced at Jack then at Duncan, who was taking a seat in the leather chair diagonal from Methos, and pursed her lips. She obviously didn't take well to being told that she was wrong. After a brief moment and a tiny unintelligible mumble under her breath, she sat in the chair next to Duncan's and leaned forward, facing Methos across the coffee table.

"Are you sure you didn't miss anything?" she asked with a tense voice, trying to sound calm, but failing.

"Positive," Methos said, his posture remaining relaxed, but his eyes gave a warning that pressing the matter would not be wise. Amanda did so anyway.

"You tried Sandy Ruscha?" she asked.

"Yes."

"S. Ruscha?"

"Yes."

"Any Ruscha?"

"Yes."

"How about Rusha with a 'sh' and no 'c'?"

"Amanda, I am hardly an amateur at these matters," Methos said with frustration in his voice. "Believe me, I tried every possible combination; every angle; she's not in there," he said and stared at her in his full alpha-male mode, making it crystal clear that she should shut up now or she'd be sorry.

"There must be an angle that you overlooked," she stated emphatically.

As Methos' nostrils began to flare, Duncan sat forward in his seat, giving them a gentle smile.

"Amanda, I'm sure that he was thorough," Duncan offered.

"Not thorough enough if he didn't find her. Pull it up; I'll look for myself," she said.

That was it. Jack then stood and watched, sometimes stifling a chuckle, sometimes letting out a sigh as Amanda continued to insist that the database be rechecked and Methos adamantly refused to do any such thing. All the while, Duncan sat poised to jump between them as if he expected them to pull their swords on each other. Jack seriously doubted it would come to that, but, still, Amanda was carrying on way too long in his opinion, and after a while began to get on his nerves. He drank down the last of his bourbon-laced tea and rinsed the cup, leaving it in the sink, and let out a tiny sigh. Perhaps he'd have to get involved after all.

"I've told you, Amanda. She's not a Watcher and she's not an immortal," Methos repeated for the umpteenth time. If she didn't drop it soon, he was going to reach over and smack some sense into her. Damn, but it was a tempting option at the moment.

"She has to be," Amanda insisted yet again.

"Why do you keep saying that?" Jack asked and had all three sets of eyes fall on him. Throughout the entire conversation, neither Duncan nor Methos had bothered to make the inquiry, but Jack thought it was a prudent question. Amanda was in the process of royally pissing off Methos, who was a good friend and asset to her. She didn't seem the type to toss aside such a valuable relationship for the sake of finding a thief. She must have had a good reason, or at least one that seemed good to her.

"Well," Amanda said, calming down a bit as Jack's deep brown eyes started working their magic on her. He could talk his way out of anything or into anywhere with that gaze of his, at least in her opinion. "Who else would know my whereabouts and my M.O. well enough to take advantage of it?"

"How 'bout Interpol?" Jack asked without missing a beat.

"What?" Why was he bringing them up?

"Well, most of your illicit acquisitions were made in Europe, right?" Jack kept his tone casual and his words as delicate as he could, but Amanda didn't take the question well and was now beginning to glare at him. Damn, this was exactly why he'd planned to stay out of this. Women, no matter what age, were unpredictable, emotional creatures. He should have kept his mouth shut.

Amanda took a deep breath and turned her focus to Methos, a scowl crossing her face.

"What have you told him about me?" she demanded.

"Nothing but the truth," Methos readily answered, meeting her gaze with a slight smile on his face. He could stare her down any day of the week, and would if need be, but this whole discussion was giving him a headache. Why did she have to be so damn insufferable all the bloody time?

"Good thing he's not a cop," Duncan chuckled, lightening the mood in the room and was rewarded with a swift punch in the arm from Amanda, who was by then the only one not quietly laughing.

"Don't worry, Amanda," Jack said as he moved to stand behind her left shoulder. "I'm not gonna tell anyone. Besides, if you're half as superior with that blade of yours as Methos says that you are; I'd be a fool to cross you," he added with a wink to his lover.

"He really said I was superior?" Amanda turned to gaze once more into Jack's soothing eyes and shifted her expression from one of anger and frustration to that happy look a puppy gets when she's been told that she's a 'good girl'. Maybe this mortal was attempting to manipulate her, but having those tender eyes focusing on her, and hearing his flattering words were worth it.

"Yeah, from what I've heard, you'd do well in special ops...not that women are officially allowed..." he drifted off. Methos was right. There was something about Amanda that made a guy want to be nice to her despite his better judgment. Luckily, Jack was already spoken for or it might have been he who'd ended up with the bill for her day's shopping spree rather than Duncan.

"You're in special ops?" Duncan asked, jumping back in. Methos hadn't mentioned that part of Jack's credentials to him.

"Don't ask him about that," Methos spoke up. "He'll be forced to take all our heads if we hear the wrong thing," he said with a coy smile to his lover, knowing that his words weren't far from the truth.

"And the blood would ruin the leather," Jack quipped with a sly grin.

"Well, we wouldn't want that," Duncan said, joining in the laughter. Jack was definitely more than just a pilot. How much more, Duncan was dying to know, but he wasn't going to press. It was most likely a case of 'ignorance is bliss' so he'd let it go - for now. "So, Amanda, have you checked out the police? Could there be any officers or agents out there following you and your career?"

"Once upon a time, sure, but they're all dead by now," Amanda sighed, resting back in the chair. "I was just so certain that she's a Watcher."

"Well she's not," Methos said conclusively. He was not going to be deprived of having the last word in the matter. After all, they were in his home.

Jack walked over to the small desk Methos kept between the kitchen and the sitting area and sat down in front of his lover's laptop, watching curiously as the three immortals fell into a somber silence as they pondered the situation. Methos' eyes were deep and darkened slightly, a tiny curl forming on his lips; Amanda's face almost resembled a cat stalking its prey, eyes narrowed, nose twitching every so often; and Duncan seemed to stare into oblivion, his lips positioned in such a way to show a hint of a dimple. All three were so focused that none of them noticed Jack logging onto the computer.

"Amanda, you came in on Air France?" Jack asked once he'd put his security protocols into place.

"Yes," she said, staring into the distance beyond Methos.

"Three weeks ago, give or take?"

"Yes," she answered and shifted her gaze off to her left, giving Jack a curious look. What was he up to?

Jack figured that since this Ruscha woman was copying Amanda's moves, there was a good chance that she'd used the same airline, so he ran a quick search for Sandra Ruscha and got an instant hit, causing him to take on a smug grin. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

"What are you doing?" Methos called out, now very curious given the expression on Jack's face.

"Just poking around," Jack said and nodded as he read the text before him. "Ruscha took Air France, too."

"I know that," Amanda said in frustration. Maybe Jack meant well, but he was going over territory that she'd already covered.

"You do?" Duncan asked, snapping out of his daze.

"Yes, she came in a couple of days after me, but I've already checked the airline records. The ticket was paid for in cash at the last minute and the address given was for a private postal box that ended up being a dead end."

"Was the box owned by someone named Shea?" Jack asked and smiled when Amanda gave him an incredulous look.

"Yes, George Shea. How did you know?" Amanda glanced at Duncan then the two watched Methos as he walked over to Jack's side.

"You didn't check all the records," Jack said and the smugness returned to his smile as Amanda and Duncan rose to their feet and converged on him as well. He then sat back casually in the chair, savoring the moment, while allowing Methos to see the screen. The three immortals standing before him had the combined experience of well over 5,000 years on this Earth, yet he, a mere 40-something mortal, within a few minutes, had found the information that they'd been looking for; or at least a good lead. It was enough to have Jack feeling rather superior himself.

"I'll be damned," Methos chuckled then he placed a tender kiss on Jack's forehead. "Well done, my love. It was so simple...I should have thought of it," he said, genuinely impressed.

"Thanks. Carter always says I have a unique was of seeing things where others don't," Jack replied and slipped his arm around Methos, resting his left hand on his lover's hip. He was getting used to showing affection in front of Duncan, and now Amanda as well. In a way, this was exactly what he needed at the moment, to be able to openly show his love for Methos. Hell, less than a week ago he'd nearly died; it was only natural for him to want to be with the man that he loved; to feel alive.

"What is it?" Amanda asked about to burst if she didn't get an answer.

"Customs' records," Jack stated. "Ruscha's declaration lists items that she brought into the country on behalf of Shea Industries. She must be on their payroll."

"No wonder you missed it. Why would you think to check Customs' records when you never declare anything you bring into the country?" Duncan jibbed then he blocked the punch before Amanda's fist could reach its target. "Not this time," he teased as he let her go.

"Let me see," Amanda said and turned her focus to Jack, reaching out to the laptop as she rounded the end of the desk. Before she could get her hands on it, though, Methos leaned over from Jack's other side and took hold of the computer, pulling it away from her.

"Keep your hands off; it's mine."

"I just want to check out this Shea place," Amanda cooed, batting her eyelashes at Jack as she turned on her charm. She doubted she could convince Methos, but maybe she could get Jack to help her to persuade him.

"Not with my computer," Methos stated adamantly. "You'll have the police knocking down my door."

"You let Jack use it," she countered.

"I trust him to know what the hell he's doing so that he won't get caught. You'll have to do your research elsewhere."

Amanda gave a tiny pout toward Jack, hoping he would say a word in her defense, but he remained silent. He had a stronger will than she'd thought. Jack was definitely the type who could give Methos a run for his money; keep the old man from getting out of line, and that was a good thing - for Methos. Unfortunately, it did Amanda no good whatsoever; it was time to settle for what she could get.

"Can I at least get the information off the Customs' records?" she asked with a tiny sigh.

"Fine, Jack, be a dear and give her what she needs, please?" Methos requested and kept his eye on Amanda while returning the computer to its original position in front of his lover.

"Sure," Jack said and retrieved a pad of paper and a pen from the desk then he jotted down the pertinent information before shutting down the laptop. Once done, he gave Methos a tiny smile as he rose to his feet and held out the paper. "You owe me a drink," he smirked.

"If this leads me to the Ruscha bitch, I'll give you much more than just a drink," she flirted; she couldn't help herself.

"A drink will do," Jack said with a tiny laugh.

"Suit yourself," Amanda chirped and scanned the page. "I'll be off to check this out then...Duncan, care to join me?" she asked with a coy smile in his direction.

"I'd better...someone has to keep you from getting into any further trouble," Duncan answered and helped Amanda with her jacket before donning his coat. "Meet up at Joe's in the morning?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at Methos.

"See you there," Methos agreed and let Jack see them off this time, putting the laptop away while his lover made the brief trip downstairs and back. "So, do you have a preference of activity for this evening?"

"Yeah, I'm in the mood for something sweet. How 'bout you bake a cake for me?" Jack proposed and slinked up to Methos, taking hold of him as he turned around.

"Bake a cake?" he asked and looked into Jack's eyes to determine if he were joking.

"Yeah, while wearing nothing but your boxers," Jack smirked.

"Oh," Methos sighed, easing into Jack's arms as he pulled him in even closer. "And you'll be dressed likewise?"

"To start," Jack whispered. "Figure later on we can find out if the kitchen counter here is as cold as the one in the cabin."

"Splendid idea, but we'll test this one with *your* bare ass," Methos whispered back.

"Deal," Jack purred and drew Methos in for a deep kiss as they began to strip each other of their outer clothes.

~ ~ ~

Jack and Methos shared a joint grumble as Methos' phone rang, jarring them awake. Methos rarely received phone calls, and those who had his number knew better than to call before noon. So help him, if it was Amanda, Methos was going to punch her lights out the next time he saw her. He rolled off of Jack's shoulder, getting a moan from him and reached over to the nightstand, hitting the speaker button on the phone as he checked the caller id. Whoever it was, the call was rolling over from his Denver apartment.

"Hello?" Methos answered and pressed back into Jack as his lover wrapped around him from behind.

"Hi...uh...Doctor Pierson? It's Daniel...uh...Daniel Jackson. I didn't wake you, did I?"

Jack froze for a brief second at the sound of Daniel's voice then he burrowed his nose into the side of Methos' neck, gently nuzzling it. He had no clue why Daniel was phoning, whether good or bad, but he was sure he was about to find out. Hopefully, he wasn't looking for him.

"Yes, you did. It's alright though. Is something wrong?" Methos replied.

"Not exactly. I'm in a bit of a bind here. I was hoping you could help me out with a translation."

"He can't have you...you're mine," Jack whispered into Methos' ear.

"Help how?" Methos asked and slapped Jack's hand as he felt it coming around to the front of his hip. Did he want Daniel to know someone else was there?

"It's in an unusual form of Ancient Greek and I have a deadline for completing it. I was hoping you might be available to assist me this week."

"This week," Methos echoed and glanced over his shoulder at Jack.

"Workaholic," Jack muttered and buried his head into Methos' shoulder. Even on leave he couldn't get away from Daniel. He was about to tell Methos to get rid of him, but as he considered the request, a smile crept over his face. "Put him on hold," he quickly whispered.

"Hold on a moment, Daniel," Methos said and put the call on hold then was pulled onto his back by Jack and given a brief exploring kiss.

"Good morning," Jack said with a grin on his face and pressed in for another kiss, but Methos turned his lips away, so Jack settled for nibbling on his neck.

"Good morning," Methos whispered and let out a tiny sigh as Jack zeroed in on a particularly wonderful spot then he pushed him back slightly so he could talk. "Uh...Jack, sweetheart...what should I tell Daniel?"

"Tell him you'll do it, but he has to come to you."

"Are you sure? What about your downtime?"

"It's okay. This is a golden opportunity for you," Jack said with a gentle smile and started to move away, but Methos took hold of his wrist to stop him.

"What do you mean?"

Jack caressed Methos' cheek and kissed him on the forehead.

"His translation will be related to our work together. It's a chance for you to see part of what I do."

"Oh," Methos said and his eyes widened with excitement. "Do you come across Ancient Greek very often?"

"We have in the past," Jack said, thinking of one particular mission. In that instance, Daniel and Teal'c had translated the text as it had ended up being similar to an archaic dialect of Goa'uld. Whatever Daniel had this time was probably along the same lines, and if he was calling Methos then Hammond must have approved it. This could very well be the opening that Jack had been looking for...the one that would allow him to share about his work with his lover, as he so badly wanted to.

"Should I tell him you're in town?"

"Only if he asks, and then tell him I'm visiting Joe," Jack said and placed one more tiny kiss on Methos' cheek before heading off to the bathroom while Methos picked up the receiver, apologizing to Daniel for keeping him waiting.

~ ~ ~

Jack stood behind the bar at Joe's place, feeling damn good about his current situation. Daniel was on his way to New York, probably somewhere high above 'fly-over country' by now, bringing the latest text he had to puzzle over for Methos to see. In a few hours, Jack and Methos would be off to meet Daniel at the airport and that meant that the task of aiding Amanda in her quest for the Ruscha woman, who was impersonating her, was going to fall solely on Duncan, and that suited Jack just fine. Jack liked Amanda, but assisting Daniel with his translation was going to be a hell of a lot safer than getting drawn into another fistfight.

He washed the last of the glasses in the small sink at the center of the bar then he reached for a towel so he could begin to dry them and found Joe's hand grabbing his wrist.

"Enough, Jack, you're on leave," Joe said with a smile and took over, picking up one of the glasses to dry it.

"I don't mind."

"I know, but I do. Bad enough you've got that cut to take back as a souvenir. If you go back with dishpan hands, too, George is going to be on my case because you didn't get the rest you're supposed to this week. I'm not going to let that happen."

"He won't trace them back to you," Jack said with a smile.

"Yes, he will. Doctor Jackson just called here. He said to tell you he's not making the connection in Dallas...some sort of mechanical problem. He'll be at least an hour late and coming into LaGuardia instead of JFK. He's going to call back once he has a definite flight number and ETA."

"Daniel called here?" Jack asked, obviously surprised. "I didn't give him this number."

"Adam told him you were visiting me, so after he tried both Adam's phone and your cell phone, both with no answer; he got my number from George so he could call and get the message to you."

"Oh," Jack said with a nod. He should have known Daniel would be persistent in getting through to an actual person rather than talking to a machine. Oh well, too late now; his cell phone was off and it was going to stay that way until it was time to go home.

"Did I miss something?" Methos asked as he took the stool across from Jack and saw the look on his face.

"Nothing you need to worry your sweet little butt over," Jack smirked then he laughed as Methos gave him a tiny pout. He was positively adorable when he did that; Jack could see it all day. "Daniel's plane had problems; he'll be late."

"Is he all right?" Methos automatically asked and Jack and Joe rolled their eyes at one another. "What?"

"He's fine. You worry too much," Jack said, reaching over and gently rubbing Methos' shoulder. "He'll be phoning back in a bit."

"I thought you turned off your cell phone."

"He did," Joe chimed in and heard the phone ring. "That might be him, now," he said and walked over the wall phone.

"How'd he get this number?" Methos asked out loud, but answered his own question before Jack could utter a sound. "Hammond...good...he'll believe you're here to visit Joe for sure this way."

"Yeah, I'll be officially bunking in Joe's guest room," Jack agreed and gazed into Methos' eyes, "just so long as I'm in your bed at night."

"Or else," Methos said with a wink.

"Jack, it's for you," Joe called out. Jack could make goo-goo eyes with Methos later.

"Right, mind if I take it in the office?" Jack asked with a wave of his hand.

"Go on," Joe said, shaking his head as yet another guy was taking over his place as if it were his own. To tell the truth, Joe didn't mind at all. He welcomed one more member being added to his extended family, and the fact that Jack was good for Methos was icing on the cake.

Jack closed himself off in the office and picked up the phone then waited for Joe to say good-bye and hang up before he started to talk.

"Daniel."

"Jack. How's your vacation?"

"Not bad...thought you might take a few days, too."

"No...not a good time for me..."

"So I hear...you have a translation?"

"Yes. One of our associates found it during a recent trip."

"I suspected as much. Do you think it's wise to show it to Adam?" Jack knew that Methos could be trusted, but he wanted to hear Daniel's reasoning for bringing him in on this and, true to form, Daniel launched into his explanation.

"I spoke with General Hammond. He says it's fine. I won't be telling Adam where the artifact was found...I mean...he passed a basic background check, so I guess maybe we could tell him later, but for now it's not authorized...uh... I'm only bringing pictures of it...not the actual thing...Doctor Lee couldn't guarantee 100% that it would be safe."

"Background check? Who ordered that?"

"Uhm...well, I kind of requested it."

"You did?" This was news to Jack. As far as he knew, Daniel had never done such a thing before. What had possessed him to do so with Methos?

"Yes. After Adam and I had that lengthy discussion over at your place...about archaeological anomalies...remember?"

"I seem to recall that I left the room."

"Well, yes, you did...uh, Jack, the man has a brilliant mind. He'd be a great asset to the program."

"I see," Jack said calmly while inside he felt extremely flattered; his lover being said to have a brilliant mind by his best friend, who was in his own right a genius. If only he could share with Daniel how proud he was of his man. "So, how many other friends of mine have you been checking into without bothering to tell me?"

"None," Daniel said and adjusted his glasses as he took a deep breath. "I wanted to speak with you before General Hammond, but the timing didn't allow for it. The Nevada facility is about to snatch this out from under me...just like they did last time. Honest, I tried to phone you Sunday morning, but you didn't answer your phone."

"And you didn't leave a message."

"Point taken."

"Good. So, give me your flight info," Jack prompted and wrote the information down on a nearby pad of paper using the pencil lying beside it. Joe had probably left it there on purpose. "Got it. So, the base is buying us a late dinner then...I'll change the reservations."

"Reservations?"

"Yeah, we're taking our new consultant to one of his favorite restaurants to officially welcome him into the fold, as it were."

"He hasn't been given full clearance," Daniel cautioned.

"I understand that, Daniel. Doesn't mean we can't take the man out to dinner, now does it?"

"Uh...no...I guess not."

"Good then we'll put it on your expense report," Jack said then he heard a tiny knock as Methos opened the door. "Hold on," he said and covered the receiver while raising his eyebrows to Methos.

"They're here."

"Right," Jack said then he went back to the phone, quickly confirmed the time and gate where they would meet Daniel; and then hung up and followed Methos out toward the booth where Amanda and Duncan were waiting for them.

"About time you got here...I thought you said morning," Jack teased as he and Methos slid into the booth opposite the others.

"It's still morning," Duncan checked his watch, "for another eighteen minutes."

"Besides, given the time, I can buy you lunch to go with your drink," Amanda cooed with a beaming smile directed solely at Jack.

"The lead paid off?" Jack asked, playing coy in return. Too bad flirting wasn't an Olympic sport; he and Amanda would make a good team at it.

"Yes," Amanda said then silenced as the waitress came to a halt at their table. Once everyone had placed their order and they were once again alone, she continued, "Ruscha is an Appropriations Manager for Shea. According to her file, she specializes in 'rare items of import'."

"File?" Jack asked curiously and felt Methos' hand landing on his knee under the table.

"Don't ask her...that way you won't have to lie to the police later," Methos cautioned.

"He's got a valid point," Duncan said, confirming Methos' implication then he smiled at the waitress as she appeared again to serve their drinks before bouncing away to her other tables.

"She's acquired many items for Shea over the past three years, including an impressive art collection," Amanda continued.

"With at least one Monet that we know of for certain," Duncan added.

"How?" Jack asked. Maybe it was better that he didn't know, but the mischievous look in both Amanda's and Duncan's eyes demanded that he be told if his suspicion was correct.

"We saw it in his office," Duncan quietly stated.

"After hours, I'm sure," Jack said. Yep, the gleam in Amanda's eye confirmed what he'd thought - once a thief always a thief. "Never mind...I didn't ask," he chuckled. "So, you're thinking this Monet isn't a coincidence?"

"Not likely. Montrose acquired his Monet the same week as Ruscha got the one for Shea, and from the same broker. He's local, so I'm going to check him out. I have an appointment first thing in the morning," Duncan said.

"I still say we don't need to wait for the appointment," Amanda grumbled.

"We've already settled this," Duncan said through a tense smile. "We're not pushing our luck two nights in a row."

Jack and Methos shared a tiny glance, silently agreeing to keep out of the potential debate brewing in front of them. Fortunately, Duncan must have handily won it earlier, because Amanda quickly acquiesced with a tiny pout and not another word.

"So, are we going to be back here tonight to listen to Joe play again?" Duncan asked, wanting to map out his schedule if possible.

"Can't," Methos stated. "One of our friends from Colorado is arriving this evening; we'll be meeting him at the airport...going to dinner..." he trailed off as their food arrived. Knowing the owner got them excellent and speedy service; that was for sure.

"Where?" Duncan asked, making small talk.

"Antonio's," Jack said and smiled at Methos. It had been his lover's choice and from the restaurant's website, Jack was definitely looking forward to it. Damn, but his man had superior taste, in more ways than one.

"Is he as charming as you, Jack?" Amanda asked.

"Uh..." Jack stalled. That was all Daniel needed; Amanda would eat him alive.

"Is he available?" she pressed forward.

"He's coming here on business," Jack stated.

"Too bad," she said with a tiny pout.

"What sort of business?" Duncan queried, ever curious.

"He's a linguist," Methos stated. "Purely academic, boring sort," he said with a tiny shudder, hoping to diffuse Amanda's interest. He liked Daniel too much to see him getting lined up in her sights; poor lad wouldn't stand a chance.

"Ah," Duncan sighed with a nod then he changed the subject to sports, sensing the need to move to safer territory. Within moments, Jack was leading the way as they discussed hockey and the likely contenders for The Stanley Cup.

~ ~ ~

Jack sat relaxing at the table, watching Daniel and Methos engaging in animated conversation about Ancient Greece, and was honestly surprised that he was enjoying himself rather than being bored out of his mind. Maybe it was because his two favorite men were talking about Greece instead of Egypt as they'd done the last time they'd been together for dinner. Nowadays, whenever Jack heard even the slightest peep concerning that desert land, whether Ancient or Modern, he instantly thought of pyramids, and then of mother ships, and then of all the Goa'uld out in the cosmos, and the threat they posed to Earth. The entire situation had ruined his enthusiasm for that region of the world; he'd even cancelled his subscription to National Geographic.

"Fascinating, you have impressive insights," Methos said and took a sip of his coffee, allowing Daniel a chance to sip his as well. They'd been talking nonstop for quite a while and Methos was astounded at the wealth of information Daniel had on the topic. And that was saying a lot considering that Methos had lived in the time and place they were discussing.

"Impressive? You think so?" Daniel asked, feeling himself blush slightly at the compliment, after all it was coming from someone whose credentials on the subject outshined his own. If only he knew just how much more...

"Absolutely," Methos said with a grin.

"Thanks," Daniel said, grinning in return and felt a tiny bit awkward as Methos' charm hit him right between the eyes like a cannonball. "Uh...so...Jack," he said, turning his focus to his friend seated directly across the table, "how'd you cut your lip?"

Jack gave Daniel a curious look and raised two fingers to his lips, running them along until he connected with the remnants of the cut; acting as if he'd just discovered it was there. Actually, he was surprised that it had taken him so long to ask.

"Oh...this? Sparring practice got a little out of hand," Jack quipped and reached to finish his coffee.

"Sparring practice? While on leave?" Daniel asked. That seemed rather odd.

"Not for him; for me," Methos stated. "I like to keep in shape."

"Oh," Daniel said with a nod.

"Well, we should call it a night...at least I should...don't want to keep Joe waiting for me," Jack stated as he slid his chair back from the table, prompting Daniel and Methos to do likewise.

"Right, so I'll drop Daniel at the hotel first?" Methos asked since they were riding in his car.

Daniel and Jack both nodded their agreement with a tiny mumble from each then Jack waited for first Methos then Daniel to file off toward the front door before falling into step behind them. Daniel paused briefly at the hostess' counter to grab a book of matches and an extra business card for the establishment then they exited, being greeted by cool, crisp air as they headed for the valet. Within a couple of minutes, the car had been brought around and Jack automatically sat in the rear, allowing Daniel to ride shotgun then they rode along making small talk until they approached Daniel's hotel. As he sawing them closing in on it, Daniel cleared his throat and got back to business.

"So, do you have an office here in town that we could use tomorrow?" Daniel inquired.

"Not really. We can meet at my loft," Methos proposed.

"Uh," Daniel stalled as he considered the option.

"I'll sweep the place," Jack offered from the back seat and got an odd look from Methos in the rearview mirror. "I carry a small detector with me whenever I travel. Hotels nowadays can't be trusted."

"Will that really be necessary?" Methos asked. His curiosity was mounting again.

"Well, I only received permission to share this material with you," Daniel stated.

"Oh," Methos sighed and took the next turn then pulled them over to the passenger unloading area to let Daniel out. "I'll swing by and pick you up around 9:00?"

"Sure," Daniel said and gave him a tiny smile before exiting the car, Jack emerging from the rear and joining him at the trunk as Methos popped it open.

"So, you have everything secure in here?" Jack asked as he handed over Daniel's briefcase.

"Yes, it's locked, if that's what you're asking," he said, sounding a bit flustered.

"Good. I'll get over to the loft first thing in the morning and make sure everything is secure there," Jack said as he brought out Daniel's suitcase then he pursed his lips and gazed into Daniel's eyes. "Maybe next time we can bring him on the base...be less hassle that way, don't ya think?"

"Good idea...I'll recommend it to General Hammond when I get back," Daniel said and motioned for the porter to take his suitcase, while keeping his briefcase in hand. "So, it's alright with you? Me working with Adam like this?" he asked as a courtesy.

"Yeah, sure...you kids get together all you want," Jack said with a smile. The more they did, the more Methos would find out about the Stargate Program and Jack wouldn't have to make the request, drawing unwanted attention to himself. Daniel was a godsend.

"Okay, well, good night," Daniel said and waved one last time to Methos as Jack took shotgun then the car pulled away from the curb and headed into the night.

Daniel stared after the car for a long moment, dedicating the license plate to memory. If he was going to suggest that Adam be allowed onto the base then he'd have to request a more thorough security check and having the plate number would come in handy. He then entered the hotel and crossed the lobby to check in and took up a pen and an advertisement from the counter and wrote down the series of letters and numbers then he shoved the note into his pants' pocket.

Within minutes, he had his key in hand and headed toward the elevator, opting to take his suitcase from there forward rather than keeping the porter. As he pressed the button to call for the elevator, a pair of black leather pants hugging a set of gorgeous hips caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and he glanced off to his left to get a look at their owner. He was greeted by a warm, welcoming smile, which he returned in kind.

"Nice night," the woman said, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Yes, quite," Daniel said and adjusted his glasses as he took in the sight of her. She was dressed in all black leather, right down to her boots; had a muscular yet feminine physique; and was seemingly interested in him. As the doors opened, she took a small step forward and Daniel caught his breath as he realized that they'd be sharing the elevator - alone. He suppressed his excitement at the prospect then he motioned with his hand, prompting the beautiful brunette to enter ahead of him.

4. Surprises

Jack woke, surprised to not find Methos pressed against him in some manner. Whether spooning or resting on his shoulder, they were always physically connected both when they went to sleep and when they woke up, but not this morning. He could clearly remember snuggling in behind Methos as they'd settled in the night before, so where could he be? Jack then heard water running through the pipes and quickly understood what had happened. It had been inevitable that Mother Nature would steal his lover away one morning, but he wouldn't be gone long, so Jack would patiently wait.

As Methos made his way back to the bed, Jack rolled onto his stomach, exposing his bare bottom as he reached over for his watch to check the time, providing Methos with a target he simply couldn't resist. Two quick steps and Methos sprang onto Jack with the finesse of a cheetah, straddling his buttocks and grabbing his shoulders.

"Good morning," Methos purred and began to rub Jack's shoulders as he leaned down to kiss his cheek.

"Good morning," Jack sighed and relaxed into the pillow as Methos' fingers worked their magic on him. Damn, but his touch was truly magnificent...far better than any other before. At times, it almost seemed that Methos could intuitively feel what Jack felt and was therefore able to adjust the pressure of his massage accordingly to provide the greatest possible degree of pleasure. Either that, or Jack was just utterly, hopelessly in love with the man, and he could do no wrong. Most likely the truth of the matter lie somewhere in between, although the hopelessly in love part was certainly not in dispute.

"Do you want to go with me to get Daniel?"

"Send a cab."

"I said I would pick him up, remember?"

"Yeah...okay...just leave your hands here," Jack sighed then he glanced over his shoulder with a tiny pout as Methos moved away. "What's your hurry? You don't have to leave so early."

"I want to scrub you down first," Methos said and held out his right hand while giving Jack a sexy, devious grin.

"Sweet," Jack purred and took Methos' hand, allowing him to guide him toward the shower.

"Do me a favor while I'm gone?" Methos cooed.

"Anything...if you scrub me well enough," Jack smirked.

"Hmmm..." Methos sighed and pulled Jack closer so that their bodies were pressed together as they crossed the threshold into the bathroom.

~ ~ ~

As Daniel exited Methos' car, he took in the modest Victorian before him with a sense of awe. It wasn't the most palatial of buildings he'd ever seen, but it was impressive for an historian to be living here all alone, even if it was a rental. Perhaps academics were simply making more money these days than they had been when he'd last been working among them. Some time had passed since then, and Daniel had been on the Air Force payroll now for well over a year; things could have changed, but still, the place seemed to be on a higher level than what he would have expected.

"So, you have the entire place to yourself? Seems big..." Daniel drifted off.

"Yes. The owner uses the downstairs for storage," Methos said as he opened the front door. "After you."

Daniel entered and began his ascent up the staircase, breathing in deeply as the smell of apples and cinnamon tickled his nose. When he reached the landing and turned toward the inviting aroma, his jaw fell open before he could stop it. There, standing in the kitchen, was Jack, of all people, pouring out three mugs of coffee.

"Hey," Jack said with a smile. "Sleep well?"

"Um...yeah...uh, how about you?" Daniel replied, still not believing his eyes. He knew that Jack going to be by early to sweep the place for surveillance equipment, but staying around and making breakfast? He sure was acting oddly as of late.

"Just fine," Jack said with a smile. "Sugar today or straight up?"

"Black's fine," Daniel said and set his briefcase down on the coffee table. "So, you're baking?" he asked, eyeing Jack curiously, his nose scrunching just so, making him positively adorable.

Methos moved to the kitchen and exchanged a knowing smile with Jack as they saw Daniel's face. They'd had a little chat about Daniel and had agreed that he was one of the sexiest men that they both knew, especially when he made certain facial expressions as he was at this moment. The tiny facial quirks that Daniel habitually traded with Jack had given Methos pause a few weeks prior, so he'd waited until he and Jack were alone then he'd asked him to elaborate on just how close he was to Daniel. Methos trusted Jack, but, still, being with Daniel day after day, out in the field; after a while that could tempt the most faithful of men.

By the end of their talk, Methos' concern was history. First of all, Daniel was Jack's subordinate at work; and civilian or not, that made him off limits. Jack didn't mind bending the regulations now and then, obviously, but there were certain personal rules that he wouldn't break; and sleeping with a subordinate was one of them. Second, being on the same team, he and Daniel had faced death together, thus bonding them to each other, and that, along with some other things, had led them to the point that Jack considered Daniel to be his best friend, almost family. Consequently, the mere thought of sex with Daniel was nearly incest to Jack's mind. And third, and most important, Daniel was straight, so even if the first two reasons weren't in play; Jack would have a better chance of getting Uma Thurman or some other hot actress into his bed than he would Daniel. It simply wasn't going to happen.

"Before I left, I put some turnovers in to heat up," Methos explained as he slid on an oven mitt. "He was just watching them for me."

"Oh," Daniel said with a nod and took a very deep breath, savoring the heavenly aroma as it washed over him even more strongly as the turnovers were taken out of the oven.

"I made the coffee," Jack spoke up, wanting some credit for their breakfast.

"You did?" Daniel asked with a cautious look.

"Yep," Jack replied, sounding a tad prideful.

"Oh...well...I'll take some anyway," Daniel teased then he let out a tiny laugh as Jack pouted.

"Don't worry," Methos said, stifling his own laughter, "he used my coffee beans."

"It should be safe then," Daniel smirked then he took a seat in one of the armchairs and pulled two folders from his briefcase before setting it on the floor beside him.

Methos placed the turnovers on a platter then took it and three small plates over to the sitting area while Jack juggled his way over carrying the three mugs of coffee and some napkins. Once there with everything set out, Jack automatically fell into a quasi-professional mode, taking the other armchair and leaving Methos to sit alone on the sofa. Despite the sociable surroundings, they were about to discuss business and Jack, being a good military man, was acting accordingly.

"Only two folders?" Jack asked as Daniel handed one across the table.

"You're on leave," Daniel said and slid his chair closer to Jack's, causing Methos to cringe slightly as he heard the legs dragging across the wood floor. "You can share mine."

"Sure," Jack said with a shrug and took his coffee in one hand and his turnover in the other so that he wouldn't have to hold anything else. After all, it wasn't his folder, now was it?

Daniel balanced his folder carefully on his lap, angling it so that Jack would be able to see then he managed to get his turnover and coffee and began to eat as well while Methos looked upon his own folder with his eyes scanning the text on the front cover. There was a section blacked out with the phrase 'Department of the Air Force, United States of America' beneath it and the words 'TOP SECRET' standing out below that followed by standard bureaucratic jargon advising that the contents of the folder required a security clearance before viewing and that disclosure of said contents could result in 'exceptionally grave danger to the United States of America'.

"Security clearance? Do I have one?" Methos asked curiously as he flipped open the file, wondering what the blacked-out portion was all about. It seemed a bit much for a mere translation.

"There's a nondisclosure agreement on top. Once you sign it, and Jack and I witness it then you'll have a limited security clearance," Daniel explained.

"I'm on leave," Jack said. "Why do I have to witness it?"

"Well, you're here..."

"And what if I weren't?"

"Then I'd witness it alone."

"Then why do I need to witness it, too?"

"Because you're here," Daniel said, getting flustered. "Why are you being so difficult?" he asked in a hushed whisper.

"Children, please," Methos interrupted and wondered if they behaved this way at work. If they did, it was a miracle that General Hammond hadn't shot them both by now. "So, I sign, and you'll tell me what's under the blacked-out portion on front?"

"Yes," Daniel automatically responded, causing Jack to arch an eyebrow as he sat back in the chair. The folder was a typical one for the S.G.C., and those three letters were the only things to have been blocked from view. From his conversation with Daniel the day before, Jack wasn't expecting for Methos to be told about the Stargate Program. How Daniel was going to handle this was something that Jack definitely wanted to see.

Methos went to his desk and retrieved a pen then he returned and signed the agreement before passing it and the pen over to Jack, who signed then passed it on to Daniel. By the time Daniel had his signature in place; Methos was halfway through the summary description of the artifact. He found it interesting for sure, despite the few tiny, blacked-out pieces, but as he saw Daniel placing the agreement into his briefcase, Methos pried his eyes away from the folder and cleared his throat.

"All set?" Methos asked, just to be sure.

"Yes."

"And the blacked-out portion on the cover?"

"Is the acronym for the base where we work."

"Cheyenne Mountain? Why black it out?"

"Uh...I'm sorry, Adam," Daniel said. "You're not cleared for that...yet."

Jack smiled slightly as Daniel dealt perfectly with Methos. He hadn't lied, hadn't revealed anything he wasn't allowed to, and had baited Methos with a promise of more to come. That was his Daniel, his teammate; he'd learned well how to handle people and sensitive situations. At their original meeting Daniel had been a somewhat awkward, bumbling professor-type, but now, he was a more confident adventurer-type, and Jack couldn't help but feel a tiny swell of pride for the part he'd played in educating him.

"Yet?" Methos pressed, latching onto the word, his curiosity raging within.

"I'm certain that you'll be able to help me with this and Jack has agreed that it would be beneficial for me to work with you again. Hopefully, the General and The President will agree to give you a higher clearance next time."

Methos sat back in a stunned silence, pondering the seeming absurdity of the situation. He'd been keeping his true identity and his true nature a secret for millennia; he could keep a secret, probably better than The President could himself. Hell, he could educate the whole government concerning many things, but here he was being told in essence that said government had determined that he could only be trusted to a certain degree. How insane was that? Oh well, it wasn't like he hadn't been in this position before. He knew how to play along.

"We'll both put in a good word for you," Jack offered. "And I'm sure Hammond will as well." Jack would make sure of that.

"Yes," Methos said and gave Daniel and Jack a friendly smile. Given time, he'd find out more; he always did. "I'm sure you will. So, shall we get started?"

"Sure," Daniel said with a nod and pulled out a photo of the artifact from the rear of the folder, directing Methos to do likewise.

"Stunning craftsmanship," Methos commented.

"Yes," Daniel agreed. "It was recovered by associates of ours at a dig site...the local inhabitants referred to it as being a 'statue of the ancestors', but they didn't know its significance...if any."

"Where was the site?"

"Classified."

"I suppose you'll be saying that a lot?"

"Hope not, but possibly," Daniel said with a shrug and a tiny smile.

"Don't worry, Adam, he pulls the same crap on me all the time. Hell, I'm 2IC and he won't let me read his reports until they're finalized. He's rather anal that way."

"Jack!" Daniel protested.

"What did I say that wasn't true?" Jack countered and watched as Daniel went into vapor lock. He waited two beats then he flashed a patented O'Neill grin at his friend, receiving a cautious smile in return.

"Something's sure put you in a mood this morning," Daniel observed, letting out a tiny chuckle.

"Yeah, a few days away from the mountain, some good sleep...perks me right up," Jack smirked. "Makes me feisty," he said and avoided eye contact with Methos, who knew better than anyone just how feisty he could be.

"Are you two done playing around yet, or should I go out and come back in an hour?" Methos asked, his voice sounding frustrated.

"Sorry, Adam, I couldn't resist," Jack said and held up his turnover. "These are delicious, by the way. Did you make them?" he asked to smooth things over.

"Thanks, and no, they're from a local bakery. I'll have some put on order for you to take back if you want. They keep well in the freezer," Methos said and returned his gaze to the photo. The artifact seemed familiar somehow, yet not, at the same time.

"Sounds good," Daniel said and took one more sip of coffee before getting to the photo. "The inscription is on the base below the sphinx...kind of hard to see on the picture...we have a copy of the text on the other pages."

"Sphinx?" Jack chimed in and looked at the picture more closely. The small statue had a woman's head, a lion's body, and the wings of a large bird raised up behind the shoulders. "I thought this was supposed to be Greek.

"It's a Greek version of a sphinx...they were common," Daniel clarified.

"This isn't Greek," Methos stated. "At least not in the purest sense...it has Hellenistic attributes, yes, but this didn't come from some dig site in the Greek Isles."

"No, it didn't," Daniel confirmed. "But the lettering is Greek...in part...and the writing does seem to flow from right to left...and it has certain geometric features similar to the pottery from Dipylon."

"Dippy who?" Jack asked. This conversation was rapidly going over his head.

"Dipylon...the oldest example of Greek writing was found there on a jug...dated around 750BC," Daniel explained.

"Oh, right, of course," Jack said with an overly exaggerated wave of his hand while rolling his eyes. Why he'd wanted to be here for this was suddenly beyond his ability to fathom. He was on leave, damn it. Why had he put himself in a position where he could develop a 'Daniel headache'?

"Hieroglyphs," Methos said, looking at the top page of text.

Daniel and Jack traded a curious glance then Daniel put the picture aside and studied the first page of text with an odd expression on his face. After a long moment, he got that look in his eye that told Jack it was time for him to leave. Daniel was about to become absorbed in his translation...Jack could see it coming.

"Yes...how could I have missed...?" Daniel mumbled and set down the folder so he could retrieve his notebook and pen from his briefcase.

Methos caught sight of Daniel's movement and paused his review of the text for a moment, giving Jack a tiny smile. His poor lover appeared completely at a loss as to what was happening, and there really wasn't much sense in trying to explain it to him. Although, having him scrunch his nose in frustration was a very tempting option. He was so damn cute when he did it.

"It appears to be a transitional form of the language...a combination of the original hieroglyphs and the earliest Greek alphabet as we know it," Methos said and stifled a chuckle as Jack's eyes began to narrow.

"Yes," Daniel agreed excitedly. "Jack, this is great...we've never encountered this sort of thing on any of our digs before...not that I can remember..."

"Hieroglyphs...we've seen hieroglyphs," Jack said.

"Yes, but not coupled with a known alphabet like this...now to figure out which hieroglyphs..." Daniel thought out loud and became totally focused on the page before him.

Methos smiled at Daniel's excitement then he glanced once more toward Jack and watched him finish off his turnover. As Jack washed it down with the last of his coffee, Methos cleared his throat to get his attention. It was time to be merciful and cut him loose for the day.

"Perhaps Daniel and I should work alone," Methos suggested, giving Jack a gentle smile and a tiny wink.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Jack replied nonchalantly. It was about time Methos said something. Jack was about to make up some excuse to get out of there, but now he wouldn't have to. "I'll be at Joe's a good part of the day. Give a call if you guys want to get together later."

"Sure. Maybe we can have dinner again," Daniel said, not taking his eyes off the paper.

"That sounds delightful," Methos said, rising to his feet. "Let me see you out, Jack. Thanks again for your help."

"No problem...later, Daniel," Jack said with a wave as he grabbed his jacket.

"Later," Daniel said, returning Jack's wave and picked up the remainder of his turnover as Jack and Methos made their way down the stairs.

"Until later, my love," Methos whispered as they reached the front door. "I'll try to wrap..." he began to add, but Jack motioned for him to be quiet.

"Take your time; all you need. It's only Tuesday...there's plenty of week left...and you're still all mine at night," Jack whispered with a tiny wink then the two shared a brief and tender kiss before Jack went on his way and Methos returned upstairs.

~ ~ ~

Jack sat back in the chair behind Joe's desk, stretching his arms above his head with a grin of satisfaction crossing his face. After helping Joe out with the lunch crowd, he'd been nice enough to let Jack use his office and, more importantly, his computer to do a little research so he could set up a surprise for Methos. If all went according to plan, Daniel would be flying out Thursday night, or Friday midday at the latest, then Methos would be Jack's to do with as he pleased, so he'd found a nice, secluded cabin upstate and made reservations for a late Friday arrival. Now, he just needed to do some quick shopping for a few romantic essentials - champagne, candles, massage oil, etc. - and he'd be all set. He was sure Joe wouldn't mind storing his purchases until they were ready to leave...this was going to be sweet.

"Knock, knock," Joe said as he opened the door and entered.

"Hey."

"Uh...Mac just came in...I thought you might want to join him."

Jack took a careful look at Joe's face and narrowed his eyes, mirroring the older man's expression. Something was bothering him; that much was obvious.

"What's up, Joe?" Jack asked sounding casual.

"I'm not sure," Joe sighed. "Mac walked in...all by himself...poured a double Scotch without saying a word, and went to sit in the rear booth. He barely acknowledged me at all."

"Maybe he needs some time alone," Jack offered. Granted, 14:00 was a bit early for a double, but it wasn't Jack's place to pass judgment, and he certainly didn't want to stick his nose in where it didn't belong.

"Maybe," Joe sighed, clearly not convinced. "Listen, if he doesn't want you to sit with him, don't sweat it, but I know Mac...he could use a sounding board...he's just too stubborn to ask for one and I'm too busy right now to force the issue."

"Ah," Jack said with a nod. No prying, just listening; he could do that. "Let me shut down here...give him a couple more minutes..."

"Thanks, Jack," Joe said with a smile then he headed back to the bar.

Jack took his time tidying up the desk, putting away the pen and paper, making sure the computer turned off completely then he stretched one more time before going out into the bar. Upon emerging from the office, he glanced casually in Duncan's direction and did a quick assessment. The guy was rattled over something; possibly volatile. It was hard for Jack to read him exactly, so he decided to make his approach with a degree of caution. He made his way behind the bar, helped himself to a tall, cold beer then he took an open bottle of Scotch in hand and moved toward Duncan.

As he approached the booth, Duncan made no effort to acknowledge him, none whatsoever, so Jack invited himself to sit down with his beer, while setting the Scotch down in front of Duncan. Still, Jack received no response, not even an annoyed glance from him, so he settled back and began to nurse his beer, not bothering to say a word, and purposely watching the room rather than letting his gaze fall upon Duncan directly. He'd give him five minutes. If he wanted to talk, fine; if not, Jack would down his beer and leave him be.

Duncan took a measured sip of his Scotch and eyed the bottle, debating if he wanted more while wondering what to do with Jack. He didn't seem the type to push himself on someone, and Methos wasn't around to put him up to this, he would have sensed him, so Joe must have sent him over. Jack really was making himself at home, wasn't he? Just squeezing right into their lives via Methos' heart, as if he'd always belonged there. A brief glance at Jack's eyes, told Duncan that he was concerned for him, at least a little, but he was remaining silent, allowing Duncan to make the first move if there was one to be made. He showed a great deal of wisdom for someone so young.

"The bastard set the whole thing up," Duncan said quietly, breaking the silence then he drank down the rest of his Scotch before refilling his glass. "The Monet...he stole it from Amanda all those years ago then he kept it stored away until it suited his purposes for it to resurface," he said disgustedly and took a good swig from his glass.

"The broker told you this?" Jack asked and took a healthy swallow of beer, waiting for Duncan to continue. Sure enough, he did.

"Yes...the broker, it turns out, is an old acquaintance of Amanda's...very familiar with her work way back when. He's going by a new name now, but I recognized him the moment I entered the office. He's the one who set things in motion...made sure that Amanda found out that Montrose had the Monet. He's probably fucking this Ruscha woman, promising her the moon...using her like all the others..."

"Others? I take it you've met before?"

"Yes, but he was a constable then...made a practice of getting free service from the local whores in exchange for protecting them. Back then at least he could claim to be trading one service for another, but he changed...started to use the women to acquire things for him...he tried to use Amanda, but she got wise to him and left before it was too late..." he took another sip of Scotch, "...now he's nothing more than a money-hungry opportunist."

"I didn't think money was a problem for you guys," Jack said, letting Duncan know that he'd read between the lines. The broker was another immortal. New York City really was a magnet for them, wasn't it?

"Money and power can be very intoxicating...even for us," Duncan snorted.

"I can understand that...after all, you're only human."

"Yeah."

"Have you told Amanda yet?"

"No. I went to the hotel...she wasn't there...then I walked around for a while, considering options and ended up here," Duncan said with a tiny chuckle, "seems I do that a lot."

"Yeah, Joe's is a regular home away from home," Jack said, flashing a boyish grin. Even he was beginning to feel the pull of the place. It was like it had a tractor beam that sucked you in when you were drifting aimlessly; luring you in like a safe harbor in the midst of a storm. You always felt welcome when you entered, and the cares of the world seemed to fade away - at least for a while.

"Yeah, and the food's better," Duncan chuckled. It was a lame joke, but it meant that his spirits were lifting, so it wasn't all that bad. He returned Jack's grin briefly then he finished off his Scotch and slid the glass away. He had an extremely high tolerance for alcohol, but it really was too early to drink anymore. "Has she been by here, do you know?"

"Amanda? Not that I know of."

"How long have you been here?"

"Since late morning," Jack sighed. "So, what are you gonna do? Go to the police?"

"Can't...Montrose hasn't reported anything stolen. I checked."

"Ah...it would be a bit awkward to report the criminal for a crime that hasn't been committed."

"Yes...well, it ends up that Montrose has a rather shady reputation. Whatever was taken off his computer, I'm willing to bet wasn't his to begin with."

"What's the world coming to...thieves stealing from each other?" Jack quipped, feigning shock then he gave Duncan a tiny grin and pursed his lips slightly, reconsidering his words before pressing forward. "I was about to go do some shopping. You want to come along?"

"Shopping," Duncan echoed. "Sure," he said with a smile, "so long as you don't expect me to pay the bill."

"No," Jack said with a tiny laugh, remembering how Amanda had gone shopping with Duncan's wallet. "I've got a healthy credit limit," he said with a wink.

"Good. You can buy me lunch then," Duncan smirked and rose to his feet, prompting Jack to do likewise.

"I've already eaten."

"I know where they make the best chilidogs in town," Duncan countered, trying to tempt him.

"Do they serve beer to go with them?" Jack asked, a gleam coming to his eye. He enjoyed a good chilidog chased down by an icy, cold beer.

"Absolutely."

"Alright...I'll just eat a light dinner," Jack said with a smile and a tiny rub to his belly then Duncan walked over to visit Joe while Jack retrieved his jacket from the office. A few moments later they were headed out the front door in search of a taxi.

~ ~ ~

Methos pulled over to the curb and bid adieu to Daniel as he climbed out of the car then waited patiently while Jack spoke with the younger man briefly before taking the passenger seat. Once he was buckled in, Jack reached over and ran his hand along Methos' thigh, sending a pleasant shiver coursing straight to his groin. Damn, but he had the touch.

"So, back to the loft?" Jack asked with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"Horny again?" Methos teased.

"You seem to have an effect on me that way," Jack whispered as his hand began to knead his lover's thigh through his pants.

"Yes, well, we'd best get you home and taken care of," Methos said and reached over, gently brushing his fingers along Jack's groin, feeling the bulge that was forming. Somehow, the area felt odd to Methos with not as much give as usual, but before he could ask about it, a car pulled up behind them and honked to get them to move out of the way.

"We'd better go," Jack said and took hold of Methos' hand then he held it until they were parked outside the loft. That was the beauty of having an automatic as opposed to a clutch.

Methos secured the car for the night while Jack got out and made for the door, positioning himself off to one side. As Methos put his key into the lock, Jack pivoted so that he was directly behind him, blocking his action from the view of others then he proceeded to fondle his lover's ass and continued to do so until they were up the stairs.

"Let's get you out of these," Jack whispered once they reached the top stair then he quickly and efficiently stripped Methos of his clothing, leaving it piled to one side as he nibbled on his lover's neck and shoulders. "I've got a surprise for you."

"Really?" Methos sighed and allowed Jack complete control as he turned him around and placed a tender kiss on his lips.

"Go sit on the bed."

"Yes, sir," Methos said with a wink and did as he was told, fixing the pillows against the headboard so that he could lean back on them. He loved it when Jack went into command mode.

Jack slowly took off his left boot, leaving it next to Methos' clothes then he went two steps forward before slowly taking off the right one. He then left it there and moved closer to the bed, lining up with Methos' line of vision before he began the tortuously slow removal of the remainder of his clothing.

"You're so incredibly hot," Jack growled as he started with his socks. "I'm gonna take you; hard and fast," he peeled off his outer shirt, "gonna ram my hot cock up your sweet little ass," he removed his t-shirt, baring his torso, watching Methos' excitement building then he stepped closer to him, leaving those items behind. "Then I'm gonna suck you dry," he said and licked his lips as he removed his belt and undid the button on his pants. "But first, your surprise," he said with a tease in his voice.

"What is it?"

"Pull down the zipper and find out."

Methos wetted his lips and leaned forward then he slid Jack's zipper down slowly, drawing out the suspense as he felt his lover's cock twitching, straining against the fabric to be released. He then let loose of the zipper and gently pulled Jack's pants down, revealing his underwear and a devious grin crossed his face. Where the hell had he found these?

"You like?" Jack asked with a coy grin while he stepped out of his pants.

"Yes. When did you get them?"

"This afternoon...made Duncan blush when I bought them."

"You had Duncan with you?"

"Yeah...tell you about it later," Jack said, running his fingers through Methos' hair, drawing him closer.

"Right...you wore these to dinner?"

"Yep."

"No wonder you were so horny when we dropped Daniel off."

"Yeah...maybe," Jack said then he let out a gentle sigh as Methos caressed his hips, pressing the soft black leather firmly against Jack's skin. Methos had mentioned in passing the day before that he enjoyed the feel of leather against his bare skin, and Jack had made a mental note to pick up something to wear for him sometime. When he'd gone into the store to purchase massage oil and had seen these shorts; Jack had instantly made the purchase.

"Hmmm..." Methos purred and undid the button-fly front, releasing Jack's rock hard erection then he leaned forward and ran his tongue along his length, savoring the smell and feel of the leather hugging his face. "Let's leave them on...for the first round..." he said and swirled his tongue across Jack's tip before gently suckling it.

"Yeah...sure..." Jack drifted off as Methos guided him to join him on the bed, keeping his tongue on some part of Jack's cock the entire time. "On your stomach," Jack said, retaking command and got the lube from the nightstand.

Methos readjusted the pillows and got into position then he let out a tiny moan as Jack began to rub his arousal against Methos' hip while pressing two fingers inside to prepare him. The triple sensation of the leather, Jack's cock, and Jack's hand all stroking him in harmony made Methos' head start to spin. He let out a deep moan as Jack found his sweet spot then he melted into the pillow, so relaxed that he was ready for Jack to enter him in record time. He then rose to his knees as he was lifted, utterly at his lover's command, and Jack lined up with his entrance and slowly pushed in, taking it easy to start, pressing the leather firmly against Methos' ass while he penetrated, deeper and deeper, until fully sheathed.

"Methos," Jack growled, his voice hungry with desire; then he began to move, pounding hard and fast into him, angling to be sure to hit his sweet spot on nearly every pass.

Methos squeezed his eyes tightly shut, relishing the ride. Damn, but Jack knew how to pleasure him; his rhythm was exquisite, and his hands caressed him as if they were everywhere on Methos' body all at once. Now, with the leather added to the action, it was even more pleasurable. Jack was going to spoil him rotten.

After a while, Jack shifted his angle a bit, causing Methos to arch back as his thrusts grew even faster. Then Methos could hear in Jack's breathing that he wasn't going to last for long, and a few moments later, he felt Jack begin to pulse inside him. He then purposely squeezed his muscles, clamping down on Jack's erection and causing him to lose his control.

"That's it, fill me, come on, Jack," Methos said and let out another moan as he felt Jack's cock twitching, pumping him full. Then the Aftershock hit and Methos nearly collapsed from its intensity, but Jack held him, pulling him up and closer until Methos was upright and pressed back into Jack, still connected while they rode the wave together, Jack resting his chin on Methos' left shoulder.

"Damn," Jack whispered and nuzzled Methos' neck. "You always feel so wonderful. I could fuck you all night. Would you like that?"

"Superb idea," Methos cooed then he let out another moan as Jack hit a very sensitive spot with his tongue. "Just so long as you leave before Daniel arrives."

"Yeah..." Jack sighed, sounding a bit deflated. One of the last things he wanted to hear during sex was Daniel's name, but Methos made a valid point. Once they got going, they could easily lose track of time, and having Daniel find out about their relationship wasn't something that Jack wanted - not right now.

"Set the alarm then lay down on your back," Jack ordered and caressed Methos' hips as they disconnected, being sure that he didn't move too quickly and hurt himself. Then while Methos was tending to the clock, Jack cleaned himself a little, ditching the shorts to the floor, and pushed the bedding the rest of the way to join them. As Methos returned and laid down on his back, Jack zeroed in, laying over top of him and pressing in for a deep passionate kiss, feeling Methos' arousal underneath him, full and hard and just waiting for him.

"I believe you said something about sucking me dry?" Methos hinted as his lips were finally released and gave Jack's shoulders a gentle nudge to indicate he should move downward.

"I believe I did," Jack said with a coy grin then he began to move toward his target, tracing a trail down the center of Methos' torso with his tongue.

Meanwhile, Daniel woke, startled and with a pounding headache. He squinted into the darkness; just enough light to see what looked like a boot? A quick assessment and he realized that his hands were tied behind his back, his ankles tied similarly, and he was dressed in nothing more than his briefs. What the hell? He'd been in his hotel room...just gone to sleep...then he'd heard a noise, sat up in bed, then he was here. Crap.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut then opened them again, adjusting to the darkness then he felt a bump in the road. Okay, he was in the back of a truck...the boot must belong to a guard?

"We'll be there in twenty minutes, sir," a man's voice stated.

Daniel then heard a beep tone like a cell phone being turned off and glanced in that direction. There was a second person besides the one with the boot in there with him - a man in a dark suit and loafers. Daniel focused in on the man and began to scan upwards, but the truck hit a pothole, jostling him hard and causing him to let out a tiny groan as his head bounced on the floor. The next moment, the boot was connecting with Daniel's head; knocking him out - stoned cold.

5. Connections

The sun burst through the small gap in the top of the curtains, landing directly on Daniel's swollen right eye, causing him to begin to wake. He listened first, keeping his eyes closed and heard gentle breathing coming near to him then he felt pressure against his face and his eyes flew open quickly as his hand raised in reflex, grabbing the wrist of the person now hovering over him.

"Calm down, Doctor Jackson," he heard a woman's soothing voice. "I merely wish to treat the cut...fortunately, you do not require stitches."

Daniel focused on the woman's face, gazing into her dazzling green eyes; he had no idea who she was, although she, apparently, knew his identity well enough. He let go of her wrist and allowed her to sit down next to him on the bed then she wiped his wound with an astringent cloth while he examined her more closely. She was a brunette, somewhere between his and Jack's age, well built like Sam, with a gentle touch, and a charming smile. If he hadn't been kidnapped, he would have welcomed being left alone in her care, but this wasn't the infirmary, and she wasn't one of Janet's nurses. He would have to keep a close watch on her.

"How do you know my name?" Daniel asked as she moved off, placing the cloth on a small side table.

"I checked your driver's license," she said and leaned back slightly, letting Daniel sit up. "Your wallet is over there," she informed him, waving toward a round table on the opposite side of the room.

"Who are you? Where am I?" he asked and rubbed the side of his head, feeling the small bump above his right ear and remembered the truck and being kicked.

"I must apologize for the men who brought you here. They were rougher than was necessary, but you do not seem to have a concussion...just the one cut and some swelling. Do you think you can eat?"

"What? How long was I out?" He took a quick peek under the covers and saw he was completely naked then he took a deep breath and detected the faint scent of soap. He pulled the sheet more tightly to his torso and scanned the room. When he saw a towel and washcloth laid out to dry on the windowsill, he stared at them for a long moment while his mind registered what must have happened.

"Several hours," she said and followed Daniel's eyes to the object of his focus then she gave him a tender smile. "I bathed you earlier...um...you must be thirsty by now," she said to change the subject, and picked up a glass, sipping from it before handing it to him. "Water."

"Thanks," Daniel said and drank it down quickly. He was parched and nodded when she offered to pour more from the pitcher then he drank that down more slowly, once again making eye contact with her. For a brief moment, he regretted not having been awake when this gorgeous woman had bathed him then he reminded himself that he'd been brought here against his will, and pushed his straying thoughts aside.

"If you're up for it, I can have a simple lunch prepared for you...and coffee if you want," she said as she sat the pitcher down.

"Coffee...sure," Daniel replied without thinking, it sounded so good. Possibly, part of his headache was from lack of caffeine.

"Good," she said with a smile and took his glass and rose to her feet.

"Wait...where am I? Why was I brought here?"

"In due time, Doctor Jackson," she said and motioned toward a chair in the far corner where some of his clothes had been laid out, including a clean pair of underwear. It looked from the distance as if his abductors had grabbed the outfit he'd laid out before getting into bed the night before, but it was hard to tell for sure since he wasn't wearing his glasses. "If you wish to dress before lunch..."

"How about if I get dressed and leave and skip lunch?" It couldn't hurt to ask, right?

"There are guards covering the grounds, as well as one stationed just outside this room. You will not be allowed to leave."

"Figures," Daniel muttered under his breath then he saw the woman stepping away to leave and cleared his throat to get her attention. "Tell me your name?" he called out.

The woman stopped in her tracks and looked back at him over her shoulder, seeing his pleading blue eyes, and let out a tiny sigh. She'd always had a weakness for blue eyes.

"Amanda," she said and quickly left the room before he could ask anything more.

~ ~ ~

Methos disembarked the ferry and double-checked with one of the attendants for directions then he headed off toward the most isolated fishing area along the point. This area in general was a fisherman's heaven, at least for the immediate New York City vicinity, and he wasn't one bit surprised that Jack had discovered it. Knowing Jack, he reasoned that he'd be as far away from others as possible, so that's where he'd begin his search then make his way back. If he was wrong, maybe he'd see Jack along the way, but Methos doubted that would be the case.

Jack sat leaning back against a wooden post, his feet dangling over the side of the dock, his eyes closed, and his mind completely blank. This was good...not as comfortable as the dock at his cabin, but damn good anyway. He jiggled his line slightly, purely out of habit, as he couldn't remember if the hook even had bait on it at this point; then he took a deep breath and let it out very, very slowly. That's when he heard the footsteps.

"Great," Jack quietly complained while silently hoping that the person approaching would pass him by. He really wanted to fish alone today, and he'd had two close calls already. First, an old man had nearly joined him until Jack had launched into a mock coughing fit, thus scaring the man off before he could even speak to him. The second had been sometime later when a man and his son had come by, but thankfully, the boy had wanted a place with a bench to sit on. As these new footsteps came to a halt, Jack kept his eyes closed and tried his best to ignore the person; maybe he'd go away. If not, he'd start snoring, and, hopefully, get his would-be companion to reconsider.

"Any luck?" Methos asked and gave Jack a gentle smile as his lover's eyes flew open and gazed up at him.

"Depends on your definition of luck," Jack quipped as he adjusted his ball cap up and away from his eyes, allowing him a better view of his gorgeous man. "How'd you find me?"

"Joe...he said you'd mentioned fishing and that you had used his computer. I checked the browser history and saw you'd checked this place, so I went down to the ferry, and let's just say that you left quite an impression with the ticket agent," Methos answered with a tiny wink.

"Ah," Jack said with a nod as he recalled the young blonde woman. He could have had her phone number and a date if he'd wanted them. "Done with Daniel for the day?" he asked while pulling his line out of the water, yep, no bait. "It's kinda early..."

"Daniel never showed up...that's why I came to find you."

"What?"

"When he didn't arrive on time, I waited for a bit...thinking maybe he'd hit traffic," Methos began and took a step back as Jack rose to his feet. "Then I tried calling him on his cell, but no answer. I phoned his hotel room, no answer there either."

"Did you go check the hotel?"

"Yes. He wasn't there. I saw housekeeping, and spoke with the maid for his room; she said that it had looked like it had been slept in, but she hadn't seen him. She let me into the room and I found his jacket draped over a chair and these lying on the table," Methos said, pulling Daniel's glasses from his pocket. "It's hoping too much that he would have taken off without them, isn't it?"

"Maybe he wore his contacts," Jack offered, suddenly feeling ill at ease, the hair standing on the back of his neck. Methos' instinct must have told him that Daniel was in trouble. There was no other reason for him to have tracked Jack down and interrupted his fishing.

"Only if he has two sets...there was one sitting on the bathroom sink."

"Shit," Jack grumbled as his instinct fell fully in line with Methos'. Daniel had a knack for getting into trouble at every turn; why should this little venture be any different?

"That's what I thought. Who else knew he was coming to town?"

"I'm not sure," Jack said, a contemplative expression crossing his face as he pondered the situation, "Sounds like it's a good thing he left his briefcase in your safe yesterday."

"What?" Methos asked. He hadn't even thought about the translation, but, of course, Jack would; it was, after all, classified material from his base. "Oh, yes, I suppose so."

"Let's go check with hotel security...maybe they picked up something with one of their cameras," Jack said, beginning to walk off. "He's a resourceful guy. He can manage for a while...we just need to find him."

"Right," Methos sighed and fell into step at Jack's side. He was certain that Daniel was more resourceful than his academic credentials led one to believe; he was a member of Jack's field unit. Still, Daniel was very young and naïve about a great many things; and Methos couldn't help but be more than just a little concerned for him.

~ ~ ~

Daniel was seated on the edge of the bed, slipping into his shoes when he heard a tiny knock at the door. A moment later, he saw it crack open and quickly finished tying his shoes as his beautiful caretaker returned, walking in with a serving tray in hand.

"You want me to join you?" a man's voice came from the hall. His tone sounded playful; almost...he was flirting with her.

"I already have company," she said, flashing a coy grin out the door at her unseen admirer.

"I'll be right here," the man said then the door closed and the woman stepped over to the table where Daniel's wallet had been.

"Was your wallet as you left it, Doctor Jackson?"

"No," Daniel said as he joined her, taking one of the seats next to the table. "I left it in my room."

"Of course," she said, giving him a tender smile and poured out some coffee for both of them. "But, nothing's missing, right?"

"What do you care?" Daniel snapped and saw the woman jump slightly in response. She was nervous, scared maybe...of him, or someone else? "Everything was there...moved around a little, but I put things back in place," he said with a half smile, making eye contact, her shiny green orbs oh so inviting.

"Good," she replied and sat back with her coffee.

"You're not eating?" Daniel asked with a wary look on his face.

"No...I promise it's not drugged. I'll taste it for you if you want," she said, letting out a heavy sigh. She didn't blame him for not trusting her, but if she'd wanted to drug him there were far more efficient ways to do it for Pete's sake.

Daniel took a deep breath and decided to take her word on the matter and set about prepping his coffee, adding a fair amount of sugar before stirring it. He may as well face whatever awaited him on a full stomach.

"Do you know where they put my glasses?"

"Glasses?"

"For my face," he said and took a bite of his food, letting out a tiny sigh of approval. It was a damn good sandwich she'd brought him...toasted ham and cheese on rye. It was calorie-laden and packed with cholesterol and sodium, completely unhealthy, and quite possibly the best ham sandwich he'd eaten in years. The fruit salad in the bowl next to it looked very appetizing, too.

"I'm sorry. There were no glasses brought in with you, but I will inquire about them when I get the opportunity."

"Swell," Daniel sighed then he washed down his bite of food with some coffee. "So, why was I brought here?" He'd given up trying to determine where he was. He'd figure that out when he made his escape; or so he hoped.

"Someone wants to speak with you."

"This someone couldn't just drop by my hotel?"

"No," she said and buried her nose into her coffee mug, not wanting to answer any more questions.

"Right," Daniel sighed, picking up on her body language, and proceeded to finish his meal. The sooner he was off to see this someone, the sooner he might just get some answers.

~ ~ ~

Of all the stupid, incompetent, bumbling idiots in the world, he must have gotten the cream of the crop on his payroll. Not only had they had their asses kicked by some lanky stranger a few nights prior; they had yet to recover the stolen disc; and they'd lost Ruscha for the second time within a single week. What the hell were they getting paid for?

Now, to make his headache even larger than it was already, Victor Montrose was stuck with a guest, who he'd rather not see. His instructions had been simple: find Ruscha and recover the disc. Instead, they'd found Ruscha then they'd lost her before they could move in, so they'd decided to kidnap her buyer and had brought him to the estate - beaten nonetheless. What the hell had they been thinking? That Montrose would want a consolation prize?

When Montrose had received word of his guest, he'd been annoyed then when he'd searched Daniel's wallet and seen his work identification, he'd lost it - screaming for the three buffoons responsible to get the hell out of his sight. He already had his buyers breathing down his neck for their merchandise, which Ruscha had so aptly snatched from him. Now, he had to be careful or he would have the United States Air Force bearing in on him as well. Wouldn't that make for a charming picture?

He paced back and forth yet again between his desk and the veranda then he heard a knock at his door and moved to his chair, sitting down as he responded to the knocking.

"Enter," Montrose bellowed.

Daniel tuned into the loud voice, identifying it as male, but utterly unfamiliar to him. Okay, so a man wanted to speak with him, no surprise. He entered through the door with his lovely brunette escort on his heels, and stopped about four steps inside the room as he heard the door closing behind him, taking a moment to scan his surroundings. It was a typical office with a large elegant desk (rosewood?) situated in the center with one side wall lined from top to bottom with large custom bookcases and a computer work center located on the opposite one. Behind the desk was a veranda, its doors open. Maybe he could manage to get through them and jump.

"Please, sit. How are you feeling, Doctor Jackson?" Montrose asked with a disingenuous smile on his face. "I hope your needs have been seen to adequately?"

"I've been better," Daniel said and waited until his escort was seated before taking the seat next to her, opposite his 'host', and gave him a closer look. He was in his early fifties, gray hair, slight double chin; he reminded him of General Hammond only with more hair and weight, and much darker eyes.

"Yes," Montrose sighed. "Well, let's get to it, shall we? Where is Ruscha?"

"Who's he?" Daniel honestly had no clue.

"Very funny, Doctor Jackson," Montrose said with a patronizing smile that quickly faded. "Sandra Ruscha...where is she?"

"I don't know any Sandra Ruscha."

"Don't lie to me. You were seen with her."

"I was?" Daniel asked, squinting across the desk as he strained to remember. Still, he was clueless as to whom the man was referring to. He glanced at his appointed caregiver, hoping she might provide a clue, flashing a hint of puppy-dog eyes. As she cleared her throat to speak, Daniel tuned in to listen carefully for some clue as to what might be going on.

"Excuse me, sir, but perhaps she did not give him her name. After all, he's only acting as a courier," she suggested and gave Daniel a tiny smile. "Isn't that right, Doctor Jackson?" she asked with a nudge to her voice. Damn his eyes. She needed to stop looking into them before they got her into more serious trouble than she already was.

"Yeah...I suppose you could say that," Daniel replied. A courier? What was he supposed to have been carrying?

"Perhaps she didn't," Montrose grumbled, as he considered the possibility. If he wasn't in the loop as to his contact's name, then, maybe, handling this Jackson fellow wouldn't be so dangerous after all. "For the record, Doctor Jackson, I don't care who gets the package...just so long as I get paid."

"The package," Daniel echoed, still trying to put together the pieces to the puzzle he'd been sucked into.

"If the Air Force is interested in bidding, I'll gladly listen. Hell, if they had wanted to wait and steal it from the competition after my deal with them had gone though, it wouldn't have mattered to me...I would have had my money; I would have been happy," Montrose ranted then he leaned forward and stared Daniel straight in the eye. "They made a grave error when they had it stolen prior to sale. Mark my words, Doctor Jackson. I will recover the package and then if the Air Force wants it so damn badly, they're going to pay a hell of a lot more to me than they were going to pay Ruscha."

"Competition?" Daniel asked.

"I'm not stupid, Doctor Jackson. I know all about the rivalry between your two organizations...how you screw each other at every opportunity," Montrose said with a smug grin.

"Oh," Daniel said with a nod. A rivalry with the Air Force...what group could he be referring to...the Marines...the Navy? "Well, in that case, I guess I'll just deal with you. It's not like Ruscha gave me the package yet..." he said, purposely trailing off. If he played along, maybe the picture would become clearer.

"That would explain why the disc wasn't found in his room, sir."

"Yes," Montrose muttered, watching Daniel, assessing him. He doubted that Daniel had enough clout to negotiate on behalf of the Air Force in this matter, but he most likely had a handler, who could. "Tell you what...you lead me to Ruscha, and I'll consider your proposal."

"Lead you? How?" Daniel asked then his eyes widened as he saw his cell phone being pulled out of the top desk drawer. "Her number's not in there."

"We'll see," Montrose said with his smug grin returning. "I'm willing to bet that if we don't get her...that we'll find someone who can give her a message."

"What message?" Daniel asked.

"The one I tell you to leave and not a word more," Montrose said and pressed a button on the underside of his desk, calling in one of the arm guards from the hallway. "Keep your gun trained on the good doctor here to remind him to watch his tongue."

"Yes, sir," the large man replied and readied his semi-automatic pistol, turning off the safety and placing his arm in a comfortable position where he could get off a shot at Daniel within a mere fraction of a second, should the signal be given.

"Wait a minute," Daniel said. With a gun on him, he didn't have a prayer of making it to the veranda - crap. "I already agreed to deal with you instead of her...I won't pay her a cent. You have my word..."

"Your word does me no good if I don't recover the merchandise," Montrose interrupted.

"If you shoot me you'll have the Air Force after you," Daniel said, trying a different approach to get the gun removed from the equation.

"I doubt that...you're a low-level civilian, an errand boy. I don't care what degree you have; that's what it comes down to. If I don't get the disc back then I'll be forced to hand you over to my buyers instead...tell them that you worked with Ruscha to steal their merchandise, so they'll be off my back. They won't look kindly on that; and I guarantee that they will not extend to you the same level of courtesy that I have. Once you're in their hands, the Air Force won't risk an outright confrontation to get you back. They don't have the balls."

"But I didn't help her...I'll tell them that," Daniel countered.

"I'm sure," Montrose chuckled, "but who are they going to believe - a stranger from Colorado, whom they've never laid eyes on, or someone who's been supplying them with quality intelligence for the last two years?"

"I see your point," Daniel said, feeling defeated. He glanced to his left and saw fear in the brunette's green eyes. They were practically pleading for him to cooperate. He wasn't sure if it was an act or not on her part, but it hardly mattered. He tried again to think of a way out of his predicament, but his mind was drawing a complete blank. If only Jack or Sam were there, or Teal'c; any of them would be able to devise a plan. They were the strategists with years of field experience to draw upon, but Daniel only knew a fraction of what they did based on what he'd learned from working with them over the past year and a half or so. "Okay, what's the message?"

Montrose gave another smile as he sat Daniel's cell phone down on the desk then he took a notepad and wrote out a simple set of talking points. He handed the pad over and while Daniel read it, Montrose picked up the younger man's cell phone and pressed a few buttons.

"Do you understand what you're to do?"

"Yes," Daniel grumbled. He was to set trap for this Ruscha woman, whoever she was, terrific.

"Good; then let's get started here. I love the call history feature on these things, don't you?" Montrose taunted, seeing the uneasiness in Daniel's eyes. He put the phone into speaker mode and set it on the table then he dialed the last number that Daniel had phoned. As the ring tone sounded, Daniel watched, his mind racing to list whose numbers would be called and in what order.

~ ~ ~

Jack and Methos entered Joe's, both silently pondering what their next course of action might be, and wandered over to the nearest end of the bar as if on autopilot. For Methos, it was a very old habit, but he was surprised to catch a glimpse of Jack at his right side, reaching over the bar to grab two glasses from the counter underneath as if he'd been coming to the place for years. He'd really melded in nicely to Methos' life, as crazy and chaotic as it could be at times, and that was a wonderfully pleasing thing to see. If Methos weren't so concerned for Daniel he would have taken longer than a short moment to ponder his lover's action and the meaning behind it, but instead he tucked it away to reflect on and cherish at a later time - once they knew that Daniel was safe.

"Let me go!" Amanda shouted at Duncan as the two emerged from the office with Joe on their heels. "Roberto is NOT going to get away with this!" she added and struggled to break free as Duncan grabbed hold of her left arm.

"Roberto?" Methos whispered, giving Jack a curious look.

"The broker with the Monet...old acquaintance of hers...set her up," Jack said, hitting the highlights of what Duncan had told him then he leaned far over the bar and got the closest bottle within reach, bringing it back with him as he reclaimed his stool. "Irish whiskey work for you?"

"Sure...anything," Methos answered and watched Duncan and Amanda approach them while Jack poured out some whiskey into the two glasses before them.

"You can't go running off after him like this," ..." Duncan said as he guided Amanda to the stool just around the corner from Methos' and took the one to her left for himself. "He was stronger the last time you met, and you got lucky; this time..."

"He's the one who got lucky," Amanda interrupted. "I would have taken him if those monks hadn't shown up when they did."

"Very old acquaintance," Methos whispered to Jack and joined his lover in taking a sip of whiskey.

"Smooth," Jack choked out sarcastically, as the liquor burned its way down his throat. He knew there was a reason he usually put ice in the glass first.

Joe walked the length of the bar, giving a nod to the bartender, who was on shift, then he took up a position across from the group of four, centering himself between Amanda and Methos, and let out a tiny sigh. A quick scan of the group, and he went about tending to them without needing to be asked. He traded the hard whiskey for a milder Scotch then he put a set of five glasses on the bar, placing ice in each then filling them with a generous portion of the liquor. He might as well join them for this drink. He already knew the situation with Duncan and Amanda since he'd been present when Duncan had told her about Roberto's bragging. Now, with the expressions on Jack's and Methos' faces, he had a feeling he was about to hear more unpleasant news.

"What happened to you two? Did you find Daniel?" Joe asked, having found out from Methos that morning that he'd missed their appointment.

"Daniel?" Duncan automatically asked, his curiosity taking over his tongue yet again.

"Our friend from Colorado," Methos explained. "He didn't make it to the loft this morning as planned."

"And he's not at the hotel; doesn't answer his cell phone..." Jack grumbled and took a sip of the Scotch. Much better than the straight up whiskey.

"Did you call George?" Joe asked. After all, Daniel had come to town on business.

"No...not yet...not much to tell him," Jack said. He didn't like contacting his C.O. until there was more substance to report than what they had at the moment. Daniel's room had checked out clean - no blood, no signs of a struggle. Jack's gut told him that it had been carefully searched, but all the classified material that Daniel had brought with him was still safe and secure at the loft, so there was no absolute need to notify Hammond at this point.

"How about the police?" Duncan asked.

"They said to wait and see if he comes back on his own," Jack said, sounding frustrated.

"You know how they are...it's too soon for them to be forced into taking a missing persons report, so they gave us the old line about the young man in The Big Apple, and how he probably met up with some hot babe, or some such nonsense," Methos added and took another drink of his Scotch, mirroring Jack's movement as he did the same.

"Maybe they're right...maybe your little archaeologist decided he wanted to go out and play for a while. I wouldn't worry about him," Amanda said.

"Who said he was an archaeologist?" Jack asked, instantly jumping on her comment.

"Uh...he did," Amanda replied, pointing to Methos, "when we had lunch together."

"No, I referred to him as a linguist," Methos corrected her and took hold of her upper arm. "What have you done, Amanda?"

"Done?" she asked, batting her eyelashes, then she caught sight of Jack's glare from over Methos' shoulder while feeling Duncan closing in behind her. She was so screwed. "I may have bumped into him at his hotel."

"Not by accident, I'm sure," Duncan said, breathing down her neck.

"Better tell them everything," Joe advised across the bar. "If we end up with blood on the floor...you're cleaning it up," he said and took up his drink to sip on while watching Amanda squirm.

"I just wanted to meet him," she said after a long moment of silence, "maybe find out more about Jack. I was curious. You can't blame me...I mean, if Daniel were half the catch Jack is..."

"Save the patronage, Amanda," Methos interrupted her.

"I waited outside Antonio's while you had dinner the other night then I followed you to his hotel and met up with him at the elevator...we spent some time together talking."

"Talking? That was all?" Jack asked, feeling his protective streak kicking in full strength.

"Yes, I swear," Amanda answered, looking him in the eye. "We had a cappuccino downstairs in the lounge...he told me about a dig he went on in Egypt a while back. He seemed like a very nice guy...maybe a bit naïve..."

"Did anyone see you two together?" Methos asked, his mind pondering a possible connection.

"A lot of people did...we were in the lounge," Amanda said with a shrug. "Did you check with hotel security? If he met with foul play, they may have something on tape."

"We can't get access," Jack grumbled. He'd attempted to talk security into letting him view the tapes, but they'd refused since the police weren't involved. He could have thrown more muscle into the request, made a quick phone call, but he hadn't wanted to go there. "Figure we'll go back tonight and see if we have better luck with the night shift...ask them some questions. Maybe they saw something unusual, but it didn't register at the time as being trouble."

"I'll get you access to the video," Amanda stated. "It's the least I can do to help. He's a really sweet guy...such a gentleman...he does this adorable thing with his nose when he speaks French..." she sighed, her gaze wandering off as she recalled her time with Daniel. She'd seriously considered seducing him that night, but he'd been so damn nice that she hadn't had the heart to bed him then leave before he woke. She was getting soft in her older age.

Jack downed the last of his Scotch and let out a heavy sigh as he pushed the glass across the bar toward Joe.

"Let's take this into the office. Amanda, you can explain what you have in mind for gaining access," Jack said and headed off, not waiting for a response, trusting that the others would follow. Daniel was his responsibility, whether on duty or not; the fact that this situation seemed to be unrelated to work for a change was irrelevant. He was going to get him back; he was confident of that. The problem was how to do it without exposing Daniel, or anyone else, to the secrets that were threatening to rear up in the process, especially if this Roberto character was the one behind Daniel's disappearance. The S.G.C. had enough to deal with as it was; they didn't need to know about the existence of immortals.

As a whole, immortals weren't a threat to either national or planetary security, so Jack felt comfortable not reporting about them. Besides, he could well imagine what the N.I.D. would do if they ever found out about them. There'd be a witch-hunt, so they could conduct their precious experiments, and there would be bloodshed, mainly on the side of the mortals. He wasn't going to be the one to set that nightmare into motion - no way in hell.

"Jack?" Methos addressed him as he came to his lover's side by Joe's desk. "Are you all right?"

"I will be," Jack said and gently caressed Methos' cheek, not caring who might peer through the partially opened door. No one was going to conduct experiments on the man he loved. He'd take him through the Stargate before he'd let that happen; hide him on some nice quiet planet somewhere. "I love you," he whispered and placed a tiny kiss on his forehead.

"I love you, too," Methos whispered back, wondering what had brought on this sudden display of affection. "What is it?"

"Later," Jack said and took a step back as Amanda and Duncan came to join them, closing the door as they entered the room.

~ ~ ~

Montrose hung up Daniel's phone for the sixth time, still no closer to finding Ruscha. Each call thus far had been to either a library or a museum. Apparently, the guy was squeezing in some academic work along with his courier detail. As he thought about it, Montrose wasn't too surprised though. Daniel struck him as being more of a paper-pusher than a field operative. He checked the list and dialed the next number down, and felt a sense of anticipation as the call was answered more casually than the previous ones.

"Joe's, how can I help you?" a man's voice came over the line.

"Sandra Ruscha, please," Montrose said.

"Hold on."

"What is this Joe's?" Montrose asked Daniel while they waited.

"A bar," Daniel answered simply, not wanting to elaborate.

"So, you do have a social life," Montrose said with a coy grin, picturing Daniel in a bar, getting himself taken advantage of by some pretty face.

"Hello...can I help you?" Joe asked, taking over the call.

"I'm trying to reach Sandra Ruscha," Montrose said. "Is she there?"

"May I ask who's calling?"

"Doctor Daniel Jackson."

"Just a minute...uh...I think she might be in the other room. Would you mind holding again?"

"Not at all," Montrose said and leaned back as the static of being on hold came back over the line. "When she picks up, you know what to say, correct?"

"Yes," Daniel said and gave the man holding the gun a wary look while taking a deep breath.

In the meantime, Joe made straight for the office and entered quickly, closing the door behind him, getting the attention of all four inside.

"Someone claiming to be Daniel is on the phone asking for Sandra Ruscha," Joe announced and Methos instantly centered the phone on the desk, prepared to activate the speaker.

"Find out what he wants," Jack said, looking at Amanda, who nodded her head then she waited until Methos pressed the button, causing the light to turn green as the line came alive.

"Hello? Doctor Jackson?"

"Miss Ruscha? Is that you?" Daniel asked. The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.

"Yes," Amanda said. "It's good to hear your voice. I was worried I might not be hearing from you. You missed your appointment this morning and your two friends came by asking if I knew where you were."

"Oh...right...something came up," Daniel stalled as he processed the bit of information. Whoever this woman was, she seemingly knew either Adam or Jack, or possibly both? This was getting weirder by the second. He then saw Montrose wave his hand slightly, prompting him to continue and cleared his throat before speaking again. "Listen, I need to meet with you tonight...get the disc from you."

"Disc?"

"Yes, my superiors are willing to pay an added bonus if they have it in hand by tomorrow morning. Can we meet? Say six o'clock at Central Park?"

"How much of a bonus are we talking about?" She couldn't look too cooperative, now could she?

"Uh..." Daniel glanced at Montrose and saw him scribble the number '10' on a piece of paper. "Ten percent."

Amanda paused, pretending to consider the proposal and watched while Jack jotted a quick note and slid it in front of her. She nodded her understanding and let out a tiny sigh as she supposedly made her decision.

"Alright, but I need more time than that to retrieve it. How about 22:00? Would that work for you?"

"Sure," Daniel said as he saw Montrose nodding his agreement. "22:00 is fine. Meet me at the Model Boat House," he instructed as per Montrose's talking points. From the sound of the connection, Daniel was almost positive that Ruscha was on a speakerphone just as he was, and hopefully, her use of military time meant that Jack was listening to the call. "See you then," he said quickly as he saw Montrose's finger moving toward the power button and the next moment the phone was turned off.

"Well done, Doctor Jackson. Amanda will see that you are made comfortable until Ms. Ruscha is able to join us," Montrose said and motioned for them to leave him.

"Right," Daniel muttered under his breath and stood alongside his escort then he allowed her to lead the way back to his room. He was still largely clueless as to what exactly was happening, but maybe he'd figure it out once he got to see this Ruscha woman in person. Maybe Jack was on an assignment, and he'd only pretended to be going on leave. If that were the case, it sure would have been nice for Jack to have told him about it.

"At least we know he's still alive," Methos said as he turned off Joe's phone. "He didn't sound like he'd been hurt...not badly, anyway," he offered, gently rubbing Jack's shoulder.

"Yeah," Jack sighed. "Sounds like Montrose has him...who else would be after a disc?"

"Most likely," Amanda agreed. "They're trying to set a trap."

"Yes, and they're going to succeed," Jack said.

"Excuse me?" Amanda asked while raising her eyebrows.

"Don't worry, I'll have your six," Jack said.

"Me, too," Duncan jumped in.

"No," Jack said. "And not you either," he added, looking at Methos. "Daniel is my responsibility."

"I'm not letting you go this alone," Methos protested.

"I won't," Jack said with a coy grin. "New York isn't my turf, but that doesn't mean I don't have connections here," he said with a wink and pulled out his cell phone. "Looks like I'll need to turn this damn thing back on after all."

6. Fate

Daniel sat at the small table across from his lovely caretaker and finished off his delicious chicken cordon bleu as he contemplated his situation. The better part of his day had been spent in this room with its rather bland furnishings, but during his brief trip to his host's office, he'd taken in all that he could of the place and had determined that it was a good-sized property; most probably what one would deem a small to medium estate. Between that, the food he'd been given, and his host's arrogant body language during their less than charming visit, Daniel concluded that his host, presumably the owner of this estate, was full of himself, had a degree of wealth, and was in desperate need of an interior designer.

As they'd traveled the main corridor, lined with various tables and statuettes, Daniel had counted six rooms, other than this one and the office, with a staircase at the front of the building indicating at least one additional floor above them. Of the other rooms, he'd only been able to see into one and had been impressed with the workout equipment inside. It was no wonder that the guards were all buff and burly. They most likely spent a portion of their personal time using the room to stay in shape - just great. Daniel would never be able to take on any of them and escape without a weapon in his possession - unless he had some help.

He laid down his fork and wiped his mouth, purposely making eye contact once again with his gorgeous companion. He took in her sparkling green eyes as she smiled and returned her gesture in kind; hoping that his eyes were working their magic on her at least half as well as hers were affecting him. Why was it that he never met such charming women under better circumstances?

"Was dinner to your liking?"

"Yes," Daniel said nearly sighing. "It was quite good...considering..."

"Right...uh...coffee?"

"Please." Daniel watched as she cleared their dishes to the tray she'd used to carry them in then he eased back in his chair as she took up the thermal pot and poured out two cups of coffee. It wasn't as fresh as he would have preferred, but the aroma held promise of an enjoyable cup nonetheless. He waited until she was settled then he took his cup in hand for a tasting sip, thinking one last time of what he would say to her, however, she decided to speak up first.

"Mr. Montrose is a reasonable man. If you cooperate and stay close to me, I am certain that you will get through this without further harm."

"Montrose," Daniel repeated, rolling the name around in his mind. It meant absolutely nothing to him. Had she just erred or purposely given him new information? He looked into her eyes to try to determine her sincerity, but all he saw was fear - just as he had earlier. Who or what scared her so terribly?

"His name is known to the Air Force...at least I think it is...it most certainly will be by tomorrow..."

"What's really going on here?" Daniel asked, having opted for the more direct approach.

"Mr. Montrose is recovering his property."

"I don't care about him...I'm asking about you. You're in some sort of trouble, aren't you?"

"Don't worry about me...I'll be fine."

Daniel slid his chair closer to her and reached out and gently took hold of her right hand. As she gazed at him, he saw the threat of tears welling up in her eyes, so he doubled his efforts, running his other hand tenderly along her cheek.

"Tell me. We can help each other."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can," Daniel insisted and caressed her cheek once again before resting his hand on her left shoulder. "Trust me. If you help me escape, I'll return the favor...get you to somewhere safe...."

"You don't understand," she said, her voice beginning to tremble. "He's too powerful. There's nowhere that's out of his reach. He'll find me."

"Who?"

"No," she whispered and pulled her hand away only to have Daniel take it back with a degree of force that startled her. He then drew her even closer to him until they were eye to eye, feeling one another's breath on their faces.

"I have friends who are more powerful than you could possibly imagine. Help me get out of here and I promise that you will be safe," Daniel said, staring into her eyes. After a long moment, she nodded slightly and he eased his hold, backing off a bit, but staying close enough to feel her warmth. "What happened?"

"I was placed here to steal certain files from Montrose."

"The disc that he's looking for?"

"Yes. We made sure that Montrose was in possession of an item that we knew would draw the attention of a particular thief then when she breached his security and disabled his alarm, I made my move on his computer."

"Ruscha."

"Yes...and no," she said with hesitation in her voice. She liked Daniel and wanted to trust him, but she was beginning to wish she'd never opened her mouth. Maybe he could protect her; maybe he couldn't. Could she really take the chance?

"It's okay," Daniel gently whispered. She obviously wasn't ready to tell him everything. He could understand that; they were still very much strangers to each other. "So, this thief...she doesn't have the disc?" he asked, pressing forward, attempting to clarify her last answer.

"No. She's denied any knowledge of it until today. She must either care for you very much, or someone is forcing her to negotiate for your release. Either way...it doesn't matter..." she drifted off.

"What do you mean?" Daniel asked, but was met with silence as she broke away from him and rose to her feet.

"I'm sorry...I can't tell you anymore," she said, regaining her composure as she took up the tray. "Please, Doctor Jackson, do as you're told and don't say anything of what I've told you. Mr. Montrose believes you to be no threat. As long as he considers you to be a worthless pawn, you are safe. Once he has Ruscha; I am certain that I can convince him to let you go. He detests unnecessary bloodshed."

"Wait," Daniel began as he rose to his feet. "What about you?"

"I have sealed my fate," she said and knocked on the door, prompting the guard from outside to open it. She gave him a nod and flashed a tiny, forced smile at Daniel then she slipped into the corridor and Daniel was once more left alone.

~ ~ ~

Duncan and Methos sat on the couch in Joe's office and watched patiently, as Jack laid out his plan for rescuing Daniel to the team he'd assembled to carry it out. All throughout the briefing, Methos had been torn between feeling anxious for Daniel's well being, and his mounting desire for Jack. His young lover had entered full command mode and was sexier than hell. Even Duncan seemed to have finally taken notice of the fact as evidenced by the Highlander's tiny sigh when Jack leaned over to point out something on the diagram they'd made earlier that evening.

Once Jack had made contact with his 'connections', a group of U.S. Marshalls, he'd ordered a pizza then he'd gotten the layout of Montrose's estate from Amanda. She'd provided him with great detail, including the security measures, which she had already successfully countered when taking the Monet. Methos had been glad to see her so cooperative for a change; not that she'd had a choice. Daniel being taken was her fault, after all. Jack had been satisfied with her information, as well, and had used it to quickly map out his course of action with Amanda, Duncan and Methos giving their input, although not much had been needed. They'd finished just as the pizza had been delivered.

By the time the Marshalls had arrived, the pizza was history and Jack had greeted them professionally, fully prepared to get things underway. With Amanda at his side, he'd taken the spot behind Joe's desk, and had the Marshalls surround the diagram while he issued his orders. Instinctively, Methos had at first been wary concerning these strangers, but his apprehension had all but disappeared now as the briefing was nearing its conclusion. The men were accepting Jack's orders with very few questions, and absolutely no challenges. Things were going along very well.

"So, does everyone understand what to do?" Jack asked and received staggered nods in response. "Good. We move out in five," he said, effectively dismissing the group and watched as they filed out of the room.

"I could use one for the road," Amanda said once the Marshalls had gone. "Duncan?"

"Good idea," Duncan agreed as he stood to join her. "Should I ask Joe to send something in?" he offered, looking to Methos.

"No...thanks," Methos said and waited until he was alone with Jack before he moved in behind him and gently rubbed his shoulders. "You do your job well," he whispered, both proud of his man and wishing at the same time that Jack wasn't the military leader that he was. Why couldn't he have fallen in love with someone who wasn't in harm's reach so often? Simple answer - he would have never been attracted to such a man.

"Thanks. I just hope he's holding Daniel at his estate or Plan A will be out the window."

"Well...your reasoning is sound. From what Amanda told us, Montrose is a control freak and a bully. It only makes sense that he would keep things on his terms in a place where he feels secure."

"Yeah...I just hope he doesn't have more than one and chose one of the others," Jack sighed and pivoted away from Methos so he could place his 9mm along his lower back. He double-checked that it was secure and that his dagger was set on his belt then he donned his black leather jacket and the black stocking hat he'd borrowed from one of the Marshalls.

"You'll get him back," Methos said and locked eyes with Jack as he turned to face him. "Duncan and I could still go with you..."

"No," Jack replied and gently caressed Methos' cheek then kissed his forehead. "It's too great a risk."

"Risk," Methos echoed, wondering what Jack meant. He and Duncan were more than capable of participating in Daniel's rescue.

"I don't want Daniel to find out about your kind...what you are. If he does, he might report your existence to Hammond then others would find out and want to round you up for experiments..."

"What are you talking about?" Methos asked, not believing his ears. "Why would Daniel want to tell anyone about us? What others? What experiments?"

Jack looked tenderly into Methos' eyes and searched for a way to explain his fear without disclosing any classified information. He should have kept his big mouth shut. He should have maintained his professional demeanor, but he hadn't been able to help himself. The words had flowed freely without thought of the consequences. Or had they? Perhaps his subconscious had forced them out, knowing that Jack desperately needed to voice his fears before he went out to rescue Daniel. He always did his best to clear his mind of all distractions prior to any operation. Maybe that's what he was doing now.

"Jack, don't close me out," Methos said, seeing the angst in his lover's eyes.

"We have a very powerful enemy...one that most people will hopefully never have to find out about. Anything or anyone that will give us a tactical advantage..." Jack whispered, caressing Methos' cheek, "I'll never tell them about your kind...I won't let them use you...."

"I know, my love," Methos whispered and drew Jack in for a tender kiss then he spoke the words Jack needed to hear. "You don't have to worry about us. We've faced exposure before and we've managed to get past it. We'll be fine. Keep your focus on getting Daniel back safe and sound."

"Right," Jack said and took a deep breath as he resumed his air of command. "Stay here with Duncan and Joe. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"I'll be here," Methos said and leaned in for one more kiss before Jack turned and walked out of the room. He stared after him for a long moment, wondering who this very powerful enemy might be then things began to make sense to Methos in a way they hadn't before. No wonder Jack and the others were analyzing deep space radar telemetry (among other things, he was sure). Many technological advances were a product of the space program. Jack and his team were seemingly, in some way, another branch of the research.

Of course, Methos realized that he still didn't have the whole story, only rumors and what little Jack could tell him about his injuries incurred while out in the field, but as he put the pieces together, a smile crossed his face and his heart welled up with pride. His lover was on the frontlines of a secret battle being waged to protect his country. Methos had seen such operations before. Throughout the centuries the names had changed, but the game was still played very much the same.

Methos knew for a fact that most people lived their entire lives blissfully unaware of the dangers that men like Jack protected them from. Based on his own observations of human nature, Methos had to agree that life was better that way. There was enough panic and chaos in the world as it was without adding to it by letting the populace know about every threat that came their way. It was best to leave them wondering; let the conspiracy theories abound with half-truths and outright misinformation. In the end, whatever wasn't fully explained would be written off as an anomaly, or fate, or some other such thing, but men like his Jack would know the truth and record it for posterity, much like the Watchers did for the immortals.

Methos' mind drifted to Joe briefly and how much his dear friend had sacrificed by being a Watcher then it focused back on his Jack. Just as with Joe, Fate had brought Jack into his life, and Methos strongly suspected that there was more to her plans for them than merely hot sex and an enduring passionate love for one another.

"He's in your hands. Keep him safe," Methos whispered, calling on Fate as he did from time to time. Perhaps it was a futile gesture, a bit on the superstitious side, but after all the instances where Methos had barely escaped near misses in his life, he knew that the plea certainly couldn't hurt. Neither could a nice double Scotch. He waited until he was sure that Jack and the others had left then he proceeded to join Duncan and Joe, who had a bottle and glass ready and waiting for him.

~ ~ ~

Amanda felt the blow to the back of her head and was able to maintain just enough control of her body that she landed on the ground somewhat gently. Hopefully, she wouldn't bruise anywhere noticeable. She hated having to deal with questions about why her injuries healed so quickly if she could possibly avoid it. She then saw a foot appear directly in front of her nose...a shiny black dress shoe...just before she passed out.

"Good. These are the guys I expected," Jack said as he monitored the scene through his night vision glasses. "They should be a piece of cake...even for you, Stan," he teased.

"Thanks. Your confidence is overwhelming. Remind me again why I have my team helping you on such short notice...no questions asked?"

"Because I'm The President's favorite Colonel," Jack smirked.

"Former President, you mean."

"Him, too...and we won't mention the other thing," Jack said then he read the license plate of the black Lincoln Town Car into his radio as the three goons he'd fought a few nights prior pulled away with Amanda in the back seat.

"Right," Stan quietly sighed and recalled how Jack had pulled him out of the path of a bullet during their first and only time working together prior to this night. He wouldn't have lived to see his firstborn son if not for Jack's razor-sharp reflexes. For that, he owed him a debt he could never fully repay. "Just remember our help the next time we need some extra support," he said once the information had been relayed and acknowledged.

"Naturally," Jack replied and let out a tiny laugh as they saw the mike Amanda had worn being tossed out the car window. "The morons found it sooner than I thought they would. Maybe there's hope there. How's the tracker doing?"

"Coming through crystal clear," Stan answered and turned the small monitor so that Jack could see the blip for himself. "So, who are they?"

"Flunkies for some wanna-be big shot," Jack answered and rose from his crouched position, stretching his knees as he stood. Damn, but they stiffened up in the cold night air. "Let's move out," he said and let Stan give the order for his men to join them as they made their own way to the waiting van.

They followed the Town Car at a more than discrete distance, while Jack relaxed on a bench in the back of the van, leaning casually against the wall. It was amazing the toys that Stan and his boys had at their disposal. He was going to have to drop a suggestion toward The Oval Office letting them know that the S.G.C. could make good use of some of the gadgets as well.

"What the...?" Stan said and did a double take at his monitor, cross-referencing the location with his map and G.P.S.

"What? They stopped?" Jack asked, wondering what the theatrics were for.

"Yeah...this is Victor Montrose's place. I thought it seemed familiar when you showed us the layout."

"You know him?"

"Don't you?"

"No. I'm kinda tied to the Mountain most of the time. And when I'm out...well, a guy can only slum around just so much, you know," Jack joked. "What's the scoop?"

"He's an information broker. C.I.A., N.I.D., Russian Mafia...he's done business with all of them among others."

"Ah," Jack said with a nod then he motioned for everyone's attention as the driver parked the van. After one last brief check, they piled out the back door and headed for their assigned positions to wait for Amanda's signal.

~ ~ ~

Daniel was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling when he heard voices in the hall cutting through the absolute silence he'd been faced with for well over an hour. By the time he was seated with his legs tossed over the side, the door was open and the guard was shoving a woman inside, sending her to the floor and causing her to let out a deep moan.

"Knock when you're ready to tell us how to decrypt the disc," the guard said in a snotty tone.

Daniel was stunned at the man's behavior. Men shouldn't treat women that way...no matter what the circumstances. He was about to give the man a piece of his mind, but his caretaker entered from the hallway and beat him to it.

"You don't have to be so rough with her," she admonished the big brute. Why was it that the guys around here all felt it was absolutely necessary to inflict pain on people to gain their cooperation? Did they even have the slightest clue about how to elicit information through non-violent means? The very idea seemed to be an utterly foreign concept to the lot of them, leaving her with their victims to tend to. Damn, but she was sick of this crap.

"Sorry, Amanda," the guard said as he felt the weight of her angry glare then he turned and left, closing the door as quickly as possible.

Daniel rose to his feet and looked upon the new arrival, instantly recognizing her as the woman whom he'd met at his hotel earlier in the week. So this was Sandra Ruscha? That's not the name she'd given to him.

"Bianca?" Daniel asked as the woman sat up, rubbing the side of her head. "Or is it Sandra?"

"Amanda, actually," she said and gazed up at Daniel, giving him a tender smile as she assessed his condition. She was relieved that he was seemingly none the worse for wear, but she hadn't exactly been looking forward to this moment. It was just as awkward as she'd feared it would be. She hated that feeling.

"Two Amandas?" Daniel asked in confusion, glancing between them.

"No, she's Sandra," Amanda said as she prepared to stand. "I'm sorry you got drawn into this, Daniel," she said as she took his hand, allowing him to help her to her feet. "All I'd wanted was some pleasant conversation and a nice cappuccino," she said with a girlish smile.

"Yeah, me, too..." Daniel said, drifting off as he noticed the two women before him were the same height with the same hair color and many other pleasant features in common as well.

"So, Sandra, are you going to tell him what you've been up to, or shall I?" Amanda asked, staring Ruscha in the eye.

"He already knows," Ruscha answered. "In part anyway."

"Yes," Daniel confirmed, feeling some unexplainable need to protect the woman who'd been tending to him. "Uhm...she stole files from Montrose when you disabled his security system. She's been using your name and assigning her name to you in return," he said, half guessing. When neither woman bothered to correct him, he took it to mean that he'd pieced things together accurately.

"Please...understand that I had no choice," Ruscha said, backing up as Amanda moved toward her. "I know that you're angry, and you have every reason to be."

One more step from Amanda had Ruscha against the wall with nowhere to go. Amanda then raised her hand, fully intending to slap her silly, but she couldn't do it. She saw the fear in Ruscha's eyes; just as Daniel had; a fear that she understood all too well.

"I know about Roberto," Amanda said, calming herself and bringing her hand to rest on Ruscha's left shoulder.

"How?" Ruscha asked.

"Roberto? Is he the one who has you so frightened?" Daniel jumped in as he moved to beside them.

Amanda cleared her throat and glanced briefly at Daniel then she turned her focus back to Ruscha, who was still nodding her head in response to Daniel's question.

"Roberto's been bragging...he wanted to be sure that I found out about your thievery."

"Oh..." Ruscha said and took a deep breath.

"I know what he's like, Sandra...he used you and the Monet to get to me...it's the way he works..."

"To get his opponent off balance..." Ruscha added, as she understood what he'd done. The bastard had used her to set up another immortal. Shit. Now she had two of them to worry about. "He didn't care about the files...he's been after you the whole time. You're one of them, too, aren't you?"

"Wait a minute...I'm getting lost," Daniel said. "Them, who?"

Ruscha opened her mouth to answer, but Amanda immediately covered the young woman's lips with her hand to silence her and shook her head slightly as she stared most seriously into Ruscha's eyes.

"I'll explain everything later, Daniel," Amanda promised while receiving a nervous nod of understanding from Ruscha then she moved her hand away, releasing her. "We don't have time right now. Jack and the others are waiting outside."

"Jack?" Ruscha asked. It was her turn to be confused.

"He's a friend of ours," Amanda told her.

"Yes. He's one of my friends that I told you could help," Daniel said, giving a slight nod. Okay, so Amanda knew Jack...but how exactly? Not the time to ask. He'd probably be better off waiting to ask Jack. Somehow, he felt he'd get a more straightforward answer from him.

"Right," Amanda said and pursed her lips as she walked over to the window to give the signal for the others to move in. Of course, they had to have her in a room on the darkest side of the building. What else should she have expected? She couldn't see a blessed thing outside, and she couldn't get the window to budge even an inch. "Damn, it's sealed shut," she harrumphed. If it were only locked she could have opened it easily enough, but this...she couldn't risk drawing attention by breaking the glass. She'd have to improvise. "Sandra, we'll need your help then we can all get the hell out of here," she said as she came back to stand next to them.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Take this," Amanda instructed and handed Ruscha a red kerchief from her pocket, the same one she'd used to wipe Jack's face after their fight with Montrose's goons. "Drop it outside...right underneath the window of this room...without being seen. Okay?"

"Just drop it...on the ground," Ruscha said as she took it from her. "It'll take a few minutes...I'll need to wait for an opening..."

"The guard passes by once every ten minutes. Go to Montrose's office and wait on the veranda until the guard's gone by then make your move," Amanda directed.

"Right...just jump over the railing while he's on the far side," Ruscha said, nodding her understanding. "Then what?"

"Go to the rear door off the kitchen and wait for us."

"Okay, I'll see you there," she said and tucked the kerchief into her pocket before she knocked on the door for the guard to let her out.

Once Ruscha was gone, Amanda traded an uneasy glance with Daniel then she snapped her fingers and bent down to unzip her boot.

"I almost forgot...hope they made it alright," Amanda said as she opened the flap then she pulled out a small case and quickly checked it. "Looks good to me."

"My contacts, thank you," Daniel said with a smile as he took the case in hand. "It's been a real headache not having these or my glasses."

"I imagine so," Amanda said, beginning to giggle. "Jack told me to be sure that you're wearing them before we leave so that you don't shoot him by mistake."

"Sounds about right," Daniel said, sharing in the laughter and swiftly and efficiently placed the lenses in their proper place. "So, how is it you know Jack?"

"Mutual friend," Amanda replied and went into her other boot to retrieve another tiny case.

"What's that?"

"Something to blow the lock."

"Ah," Daniel said with a slight grin. If explosives were involved, this was definitely a plan that Jack had come up with.

"Stay back," Amanda ordered then she took up position at the door and tuned in to the sounds coming from the corridor while she prepared the lock.

~ ~ ~

Jack surveyed his assigned portion of the building's perimeter and let out a sigh of frustration as he ended his umpteenth sweep. What the hell was taking Amanda so long? All she had to do was find Daniel and send the signal; they could use the tracker to pinpoint his location after that. She'd regained consciousness by the time the goons had dragged her into the building. Either he or one of Stan's men should have heard her signal by now.

He rose slightly, kicking his right leg out to the side so he could stretch his stiffening knee and blinked a couple of times before he began his next methodical sweep. About one-third the way through, he caught a glimpse of a pair of shapely hips that definitely didn't belong to any of Montrose's goons. He went with his instincts and steadied his gaze on the shoulders above those hips, following the woman as she slinked along the side of the building. Two windows down from where Jack had initially seen her, the woman halted, quickly dropped a red kerchief, then continued on. Jack didn't bother to watch her after that. Instead, he gazed up to the two windows above the kerchief. The one on the second floor was dark, but the one on the first had light coming from it. After a long moment, he saw someone and sharpened his focus. The silhouette through the curtain was faint, but too familiar for Jack to be mistaken. It was Daniel.

"Package in sight. East side...first floor," Jack called into his radio then he moved surreptitiously to retrieve the kerchief before heading toward the rear of the building.

As Stan heard Jack's message, he took up his gear and made for the outer door that was closest to their target. At the same time, two other members of his team converged on the door, efficiently taking out the guards they encountered, rendering them unconscious then concealing them in the shrubbery before moving onward. When the three men came together, they exchanged nods then Stan slipped through the door and inched his way to the edge of the main corridor and knelt to the floor. He scanned it quickly, and seeing only one guard, he smiled and proceeded to open his bag.

"Go do your thing, sweetie," Stan said and released a young female skunk into the hall then he stealthily made his way outside to rejoin the others and led them back to the van. If Jack needed backup, they'd give it; otherwise, they were going to stay where they wouldn't be discovered.

Inside the building, the skunk rambled her way down the hall, sniffing, inspecting the new territory she'd been placed in. She made it about halfway to the guard's position before he noticed her.

"What the fuck!" the guard yelled and drew his gun, aiming it at the creature, hardly believing his eyes. He stared at it, still moving toward him, albeit slowly, and blinked a few times as if that would change the animal into something less threatening like a cat.

He placed his finger on the trigger, preparing to fire then he stopped himself as the skunk reached the leg of a side table sitting along the wall. Shit. If he missed and hit the table, Montrose would have his head for damaging one of his antiques. He kept his eye on the small intruder, maintaining his aim for a long moment then he heard a noise from the room behind him. As his nose detected a whiff of smoke, he completely forgot about the skunk, and spun around.

"Surprise," Amanda whispered and leveled him with a punch to the face before he'd had a chance to fully comprehend what was happening. "That ought to teach him not to bully ladies," she said and squatted at his side to search him.

"Amanda?" Daniel whispered as he came to stand at her side.

"He'll be all right; just a headache," she said and pocketed the cash from his wallet then took his gun and rose to her feet. She checked the clip and barrel then she readied it and handed it toward Daniel. "Fully loaded. You know how to use one of these?" she asked, but received no response as he continued to stare at the floor behind her. "Daniel?"

"Don't move," he quietly ordered, trying his best to remain absolutely still.

"Why?" Amanda asked and pivoted so she could see what had his attention. "Oh...sorry," she said with a hint of laughter in her tone. "Come here, Beatrice," she said, bending over and took the skunk up, balancing her on her left hip.

"It's a skunk," Daniel said warily.

"Yes. You pass the zoological exam," Amanda winked. "Don't worry; she's with us," she said and held the gun out to Daniel once again. "I've got her; you take this."

"Right," Daniel said with a nod. He'd seen some strange things in his time working with Jack, but using a skunk in a rescue operation? Somehow, it made dealing with aliens seem almost normal.

"This way," Amanda said then she moved down the hall with Beatrice firmly pressed to her left side and Daniel staying close on her heels.

They made it to the kitchen and found it empty, the cooking staff having gone home hours ago. Amanda then guided Daniel to the small porch just outside the room and had him wait while she checked the situation outside. As expected, Ruscha was waiting for them, apparently alone. Good. It was always better when things went as planned.

"Sandra, let's go," Amanda said, gaining her attention then she took off toward the shrubbery.

"Doctor Jackson," Ruscha called out as he approached.

"Follow Amanda," Daniel said and nudged her to go ahead of him. The property was larger than Daniel had realized, and in the dark, he had no clue of how far they would have to hike to get off it, or if there was a wall or gate they'd have to climb over. Fortunately, Amanda seemed to know exactly what she was doing and after they passed a second row of hedges, Daniel was able to make out a familiar figure moving toward them.

"Jack," Daniel greeted him. "Interesting rescue plan."

"Why, thank you, Daniel. Glad you approve. Beatrice wasn't too over the top? I was a little concerned I was going too far with that part," Jack replied in his typical blasé manner then he caught sight of Amanda and felt a knot in his stomach. She was scanning the area with an odd look in her eye. The same look that Duncan and Methos got when they sensed each other approaching. "Amanda?"

Amanda held her right hand up then the sensation was gone, leaving her a bit puzzled. There was another immortal out there, but who and where? Whoever it was had backed away and most likely wasn't looking to challenge her. She glanced curiously at Jack and stepped over to him as she pondered things and concluded that Methos must have come to keep an eye on his man; or maybe he'd sent Duncan to do it. Either way, this gave her an opportunity for a little fun, and her inner imp simply couldn't resist.

"Beatrice did a fine job," Amanda said and held the creature off to the side as she placed her right hand on the back of Jack's neck. "Go with me," she whispered and drew Jack in for a hug. "Damn, but you're sexy all dressed in black like this. Maybe you can keep the hat on later," she said with a wink as she released him from her embrace.

"Only if you're nice," Jack said with a coy grin. He wasn't quite sure what Amanda was up to, but the stunned look on Daniel's face made going along with her more than worth it.

"You two are close?" Daniel asked. That didn't make any sense. If she was seeing Jack then why had she been hitting on him at the hotel? And why had Jack...never mind...now wasn't the time to speculate.

"You could say that," Amanda smirked and ran her hand across Jack's groin.

"Easy," Jack said in warning, resisting the urge to slap her hand. She was pushing things a little too far. If she wasn't careful, she was going to be eating the ground at any moment. "Uh...who's your friend, Daniel?" he asked, waving to Ruscha.

"Just call her Sandra," Amanda said, making goo-goo eyes at Jack. He really was incredibly sexy in his outfit and with the pheromones he was giving off...the tiny glistening of sweat on his brow. Maybe Methos wouldn't mind sharing him...just one night...

"Jack, uh...shouldn't we be moving," Daniel urged with his eyebrows raised.

"Right," Jack said and scanned the area before he called Stan on the radio. "Brown Fox to Black Bear, over."

"Black Bear here, go ahead, Brown Fox."

"Package recovered. Headed your way, over."

"Understood, over and out."

Jack took the lead, heading them determinedly across the grounds to the waiting van. The guards that Stan and his men had taken out could be waking at any moment, and Jack fully intended to have his team gone before any alarms sounded. As they rounded the corner, Jack used a hand signal to alert the others to the sloping ground off to their left side then he continued on. After a half dozen steps, he heard a tiny yelp and turned back to see Daniel squatting at the side of the embankment.

"What?" Jack asked, closing the distance to Daniel's side.

"I'm sorry," Ruscha called up. She'd slipped and was now lying about two-thirds the way down the hill.

"Crap," Jack grumbled under his breath. "Can you climb up?"

"I think I twisted my ankle," Ruscha said.

"Amanda, take Daniel to the van. We'll catch up," Jack ordered.

"I'll help you," Daniel said and received 'the look' from Jack. One day maybe he'd learn to follow orders and be spared the daggers shooting from those deep brown eyes.

"Not this time. Go," Jack said and stared him down until Daniel nodded and stepped away to follow Amanda. Once they were underway, Jack bit his lip and determined the best path to take then started down toward Ruscha.

Amanda got Daniel back to the van and returned Beatrice to Stan's waiting arms with a gentle smile and kind words concerning the man's pet. She'd never heard of a U.S. Marshall unit with a mascot before. It made her start to wonder if maybe the character that Tommy Lee Jones played in those two movies was closer to real life than she'd thought. She'd have to watch them again once the dust settled.

"Uh...I'm Doctor..." Daniel began with his hand outstretched to Stan.

"No names, Doctor," Stan said, cutting him off. "Where's Brown Fox?"

"On his way," Amanda said and gazed at the rear door as if Jack would be opening it at any moment. "He had to stop for someone."

"What?" Stan didn't need this aggravation. They had the package. It was time to go. "Black Bear to Brown Fox, over," he said, calling Jack on the radio.

"Brown Fox, over," Jack replied.

"Package received. What's your status? Over."

"Just about to call you. I ran into an old acquaintance. Have other transportation. You can move out, over."

"Understood, over and out," Stan said and signaled his driver to get them the hell out of there.

"Wait," Daniel said, getting in Stan's face. "Jack's still back there."

"He'll meet us," Amanda gently said, pulling Daniel away from Stan and allowing the Marshall to take his spot at the front of the bench. She turned Daniel to face her and smiled at him, doing her best to soothe him with her eyes. "You heard him...he has another ride. He'll probably beat us back to Joe's."

"You know Joe, too? Is he your mutual friend?"

"Yes," Amanda said and guided Daniel to join her at the rear of the van where they would be out of the way.

Meanwhile, Jack knelt with his back to the embankment, trying desperately to think of a way out of his predicament, but couldn't come up with one. Ruscha took his radio out of his hand and backed away, slowly limping, utter terror in her eyes as she locked her gaze with him. Then Jack felt the cold steel pressed against side of his neck being drawn forward until the point of the blade was teasing his Adam's apple.

"Do it already," Jack snapped and glared up the length of the sword at the man holding it. An instant later he felt the blow to the side of his head and fell unconscious on the cold hard ground.

7. Rage

Jack sat with his eyes closed, just starting to wake, and took a moment to mentally examine his body for injury, tuning in on any pains he felt and where they were located. His knees, surprisingly, didn't bother him at all, despite his having knelt out in the cold as he'd been forced to do. His legs, as a whole, seemed fine, as did his ribs - again somewhat a surprise. He'd expected to find he'd been kicked around a bit, but, apparently, Roberto hadn't been in the mood. Maybe the bastard had satisfied that urge when he'd slammed Jack's gun from his hand with his steel-toed boot. The move had been so sudden and unexpected that it had left Jack more than a little disoriented. The next thing he'd known, Roberto's sword had been pressed against the side of his neck.

Jack took a deep swallow, recalling the moment, and focused in on his neck to assess it. He didn't remember it being cut, and it seemed to still be unharmed with no lingering stings of pain, however, he found that he couldn't move his head. When he realized that his arms were restrained as well, he opened his eyes and did his best to figure out what sort of contraption he'd been strapped into. He couldn't see it, but he could feel a hard seat under his buttocks, and his wrists bound to armrests, his elbows at a roughly ninety-degree angle. Okay, he was in a chair. Moving on, he wiggled his fingers and judged the surface; it was some sort of wood. There was a strap tightened across his forehead, from the feel probably leather...a metal collar lined up with his neck, resting just in front of his chin, held in place somehow...a machine? Damn...it couldn't be....

"Jack...are you all right?" Ruscha whispered.

"Sandra...that you?"

"Yes."

"Where are you?" Jack asked. Try as he might to look in her direction, he couldn't catch sight of her with his peripheral vision.

"I'm here," she said, moving to stand in front of him. She was still limping, and now her face was a mess with cuts on both cheeks and a gash on the bridge of her nose. "I'm sorry," she whispered, starting to cry.

"Geesh," Jack muttered under his breath. Obviously, Roberto must have worked her over for some reason, and Jack felt for her; he really did. However, right now, he needed her to help him, not breakdown with the water works. "This device...it's a garrote?"

"I see Amanda's taste in pets has improved over the decades," Roberto said in a snide tone of voice as he moved out from behind Jack and took up position next to Ruscha. "She's taken to having one with a brain as well as a dick."

"Jealous that you don't have either?" Jack taunted.

"Hardly," Roberto said and pulled Ruscha by the hair, forcing her to her knees on the floor between them. "To answer your question, you are seated in my own version of the garrote, built with my own two hands. There is none other like it in the entire world."

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" Jack snorted. It was bad enough that he had to put up with this shit from the Goa'uld during the course of his duties. Was it asking too much for him to go one entire week without hearing some asshole dishing out his braggadocio? Apparently it was.

"You should be. In ancient times, the garrote was nothing more than a pole shoved into the ground with rope slung around the subject's neck. It was a horribly painful way to die...strangulation. Of course, the Spanish improved the design considerably, giving it a sturdy seat and the metal collar...made it possible to hold the head steady so they could pierce the cervical vertebrae in their ghastly executions. They claimed it was a rapid and certain death, but the margin for error in applying the fatal blow always left me wondering about that," Roberto said then a smarmy smile crossed his face. "Mine is far more efficient...you'll note the metal collar is thinner...with the proper pressure it allows for a gradual slicing of the throat prior to death."

"Creative...but, I've got an aversion to being sliced open...you'll have to find someone else to practice on," Jack said condescendingly.

"Enough," Roberto snapped and brought Ruscha's head back and held Jack's dagger to her throat, pressing the flat of the blade against her skin.

"Let her go," Jack demanded, his sense of chivalry kicking in.

"You care for your own kind...so noble of you," Roberto said and stared admiringly at the weapon in his hand. "Such excellent craftsmanship...Bulgarian...."

"German," Jack corrected him, seething with anger.

"Strange for Amanda to choose such a blade," Roberto continued, ignoring Jack's outburst. "She has changed...I suppose for the better...too bad it won't save her head," he said flippantly and turned the dagger so that the blade was threatening to cut into Ruscha's flesh. "Tell me the location of the bar called Joe's."

"Never heard of it."

"Amanda was there earlier today," Roberto said and yanked Ruscha's hair once again, causing her to scream. "Is that not so my pet?"

"Yes," Ruscha cried and managed to look over to Jack as she felt the blade grazing her skin. "Please...tell him...."

Jack shifted his eyes from Ruscha to Roberto and glared at him. If only looks could kill, the creep would have been toast in a fraction of a second.

"Fine...I'll tell you...but let her go," Jack said adamantly.

"Of course," Roberto said with a sly grin and pressed in harder with the blade, causing a small trickle of blood to form.

Jack pursed his lips and reasoned that Roberto would figure out where the place was anyway, so he took another deep swallow then gave him the address. True to his word, Roberto instantly released Ruscha, allowing her to crawl away as she grasped at her neck, applying pressure to the cut. The bastard had some sense of honor after all.

"This will be so much more pleasurable than I had planned...to see the look of rage in her eyes when she gets here," Roberto said as he wiped the blade clean. "I know Amanda was angry about the trouble I gave her with Montrose, but now not even MacLeod will be able to talk her into staying away from my challenge. She'll be absolutely livid when she gets the message that I have her pet."

"Stop calling me that," Jack insisted.

"Or what?" Roberto asked incredulously and moved to just in front of Jack. He then leaned over him, so close that his breath and spit landed on Jack's cheek as he spoke again, "PET...that is all your pathetic kind is good for," he snarled.

"Screw you," Jack spat back and raised his right knee, ramming it into Roberto's groin and sending him stumbling backwards, clutching at his manhood. "Guess you do have one," he snorted. The stupid asshole should have tied Jack's legs. Apparently, he wasn't as smart as he thought he was, but then again, few megalomaniacs were.

"You will pay for that...with a slow and agonizing death...PET!" Roberto vowed then he turned away and advanced on Ruscha; lifted her to her feet; and took her out of the room.

"Yeah, right," Jack scoffed, rolling his eyes. He'd heard that promise more times than he could possibly begin to remember. Who the hell did this Roberto think he was? He was as obnoxious as a First Prime and as arrogant as a full-blown Goa'uld. An immortal such as this slime was too great a threat for Jack to simply ignore. Maybe Amanda would take him up on his challenge and take his head and he'd be history. If she didn't, then Jack would be sure to take him out of circulation himself.

The disc that the smarmy bastard had taken from Montrose...if it held any classified material, which Jack's gut told him it did...would give him enough to put Roberto in prison for a very long time. If need be, Jack could add assault, kidnapping, and attempted murder to the charges, just for Roberto's actions tonight. One way or another, the son-of-a-bitch was going down.

For now, though, there wasn't much Jack could do. He would have to wait for Methos to get wind of Roberto's message and devise a plan and rescue him. Methos was liable to kill Amanda himself once he found out what had happened. In a way, Jack almost felt sorry for her - but not quite.

~ ~ ~

Amanda walked through the front door of Joe's tavern with Daniel just behind her and a crowd of people before her. There were a lot of young, handsome guys in the place tonight - a virtual plethora for her to choose from, but her attention was drawn to other matters first. She scanned the room, searching for either Duncan or Methos, sensing that at least one of them was somewhere nearby. By the time she'd crossed over to the bar, her survey was complete. Neither was anywhere in sight. They were probably off in Joe's office with Jack, asking Ruscha some questions. She'd get Daniel settled in first then go join them.

"Daniel, good to see you," Joe called out from behind the bar. "Beer...coffee?"

"Hi, Joe...uh...coffee sounds good, thanks," Daniel said with a tiny smile and sat on the first available stool at the near end of the bar. "A band?" he asked curiously as Joe served up a steaming cup of Moka Java.

"Yeah, local talent...came in for a late set," Joe answered then he made eye contact with Amanda. "You have a delivery in the office," he informed her.

"Right...thanks, Joe," she replied in her most casual manner. "Be right back, Daniel."

"Take your time. Joe, have you seen Jack yet?" Daniel asked as Amanda walked away.

"No. Excuse me."

Daniel nodded and watched curiously as Joe handed his apron to another man, leaving him to take over bartending duties, then hurriedly moved to catch up with Amanda. As she reached the office, Joe had closed the distance between them and opened the door for her then followed her inside. Daniel's gut told him something was going on, but now didn't seem an opportune time to start asking questions. The next moment, the room filled with the sound of saxophone as the band commenced their opening song and Daniel relaxed, leaning back on the bar to listen while he waited for Jack to show up.

Meanwhile, Joe no sooner had the door closed than he saw Amanda duck as his desk lamp came flying across the room, barely missing her head, smashing into the wall instead.

"What the hell?" Joe asked and took a deep breath as he saw the look of utter rage in Methos' eyes. He'd seen the old man angry, but never this furious. It was a good thing that Duncan was there to grab hold of him, or who knew what other things he might have started throwing. "That was my lamp," he said, giving Methos his best fatherly look, hoping a touch of guilt might surface and calm him down. The look only half worked.

"I'll buy you a new one," Methos said and glared daggers at Amanda while he struggled to break free of Duncan's hold. "Let me go, MacLeod."

"No. You're not thinking rationally," Duncan replied then he let out a deep groan as Methos nailed him in the ribs with a swift thrust of his elbow, knocking the wind out of him.

"Come here, Bitch!" Methos growled, breaking loose from Duncan. He then made a lunging grab for Amanda and caught her by the arms and yanked her closer, making sure to dig in with his fingertips to increase the pain inflicted by his grip.

"Ow! What did I do?" Amanda cried out as Methos forcefully pulled her left arm up behind her back. "You're breaking my arm!"

"I should be breaking your neck," Methos snarled and slammed Amanda's head down onto Joe's desk, sending the pencil holder and a few other items flying off in various directions. "Recognize this?"

Amanda blinked a few times to clear her vision and saw a dagger lying in front of her nose. She focused in on the handle and felt a chill run down her spine as she realized it was Jack's.

"Shit...please...Methos...I swear..."

"Spare me," Methos said and lifted her upright, pulling once more on her arm with a tortuous twist. "A courier dropped it off...he was paid cash to make the delivery with no questions asked."

"Methos, calm down," Joe pleaded, not wanting people out in the bar to overhear them.

"There was a note with it...from Roberto...he thinks Jack is your lover...says he'll kill him if you don't show up for the challenge. Tell me where to find him," Methos demanded, his voice quieter, but no less intense.

"Don't tell him, Amanda," Duncan jumped in and placed his hand on Methos' left shoulder. "You're not taking the challenge, Methos. You need to calm down."

"Shut up, MacLeod," Methos lashed out - enough from 'Mr. Voice of Reason' already. He'd been hearing Duncan's 'words of wisdom' ever since Roberto's courier had left. His incessant prattling had made thinking nearly impossible for Methos, but he'd managed to do so, and to stem his anger, for the most part anyway. He'd promised Duncan that he wouldn't draw his sword on Amanda. What more did Duncan want from him? To be honest, Methos didn't give a damn. All he cared about was getting his Jack back - alive. "Where will he be, Amanda?" he asked once again, his anger only semi-controlled. If she didn't tell him...he was going to blow.

"Methos, please, calm down," Amanda said.

"Stop telling me to calm down!" Methos snapped and belted Amanda right across the face, cutting her lip and sending her to the floor. Damn, but that felt good. He then spun around, knocking Duncan backwards and took up Jack's dagger in his right hand as he squared off against him. "You're not my keeper, MacLeod. This isn't your affair...now, back off."

"Stubborn," Duncan grumbled. He hadn't wanted things to escalate like this. "Put it down," he said and moved his hand toward Methos' right wrist.

"Pain in the ass," Methos said as he avoided Duncan's grasp. "The young always think they know best," he complained and leveled a few choice phrases at Duncan, but the rest of his words were lost in the commotion that rapidly ensued.

Joe stood and watched helplessly as Duncan and Methos traded blows, blocking each other at first then connecting on every second or third swing, while Amanda wisely stayed down, inching herself back to the wall and staying out of their way. With each passing moment, Joe grew more nervous, keeping an eye on the door, grateful that the band was still playing then, suddenly, both Duncan and Methos were on the floor. The next moment, the fight was over.

"You can't fight worth shit, when you're this pissed off," Duncan sighed as he rose to his feet, leaving Methos on the floor with Jack's dagger sticking out of his chest.

"Damn you," Methos panted and managed to yank the dagger out, but at a bad angle, causing serious damage to his left lung at the same time. He gasped as he felt his strength being drawn from him then fell unconscious. Without emergency medical attention, he was as good as dead.

"He'll take a while to recover from that one," Amanda said as she rose to her feet. "Uh...thanks."

"Don't thank me," Duncan snapped and took hold of Amanda's throat, pushing her back until she was pinned to the wall. In his own way, Duncan loved Amanda, but there were times like this when he could literally wring her neck. Because of her, he'd just 'killed' Methos, and would have to face his wrath later for doing so - all because Amanda had pursued Daniel. Damn her and her infernal curiosity. "I didn't do it for you," he said and shifted his grip lower, allowing Amanda to breathe as he began to quell his anger. "Roberto cannot be allowed to take his head. You know that, as well as I do."

"You're right," Amanda said with a nod. Roberto was borderline psychotic on his best of days. If he took Methos' head, thereby gaining his strength and millennia of experience, he would become a seriously dangerous threat to both immortals and mortals alike. "So, what's the plan?"

"You and I are going to bring Jack back here alive before Methos can figure out where Roberto is."

"And plan B?" Amanda asked, turning on her charm.

"I bring you back and hold you still while Methos takes your head," Duncan stated with a look that would bring a bull elephant to his knees.

"I vote for plan A."

"Thought you would," Duncan sighed and picked up the dagger then handed it over to Joe, who was still guardedly watching the door. "Clean this up and keep an eye on him for me?"

"Sure thing, Mac," Joe said, taking the bloodied weapon in hand. "Put him on the couch before you go."

"Thanks, Joe," Duncan said and lifted Methos, being careful to avoid the blood splatter on his shirt.

"Watch after Daniel, too?" Amanda added with a girlish pout while Duncan positioned Methos as comfortably as possible on the couch.

"Yeah...why not?" Joe sighed and stepped away from the door, letting them pass. Once they were gone, he gazed over to Methos and shook his head, debating which to do first - clean the blade or change his friend's shirt. He decided on the latter and wrapped the dagger in a rag and hid it in his desk for the time being. He'd grab another rag and some water on his way back from the storeroom. One of these days he was going to stop getting tangled up in messes like this; probably the same day they fitted him for a pine box.

~ ~ ~

Joe dealt with the band as they packed up for the night, arranging for them to come back the following week to do both an early and a late set. They'd been well received, much to his and their delight, and he could see they definitely had promise. Maybe Duncan could refer them to someone in the recording industry. He was just finished with that part of the conversation, the lead guitar player turning away, when he heard Daniel's voice coming over his shoulder.

"Joe?"

"Yes, Daniel?" Joe replied, purposely keeping his gaze on the band members as they moved about.

"I tried Jack's cell. He doesn't answer."

"He doesn't have it with him. He left it in my office," Joe said, turning to face Daniel. "I need to see these guys off. Listen...make yourself at home behind the bar...put on another pot of coffee if you want."

"Sure...thanks," Daniel sighed and slowly stepped away as Joe went back to speaking with the band's leader. Joe had a business to run. He had things to do; Daniel understood that. The place would be closing soon...he'd wait and press Joe more once they were alone.

Joe completed his business with the band and saw off the last of his patrons then he went to the bar and settled the register and tips with the bartender, giving him his leave for the night. Once he was gone, Joe locked the front door and took a deep breath before he turned back and moved toward Daniel.

"I need to go in the office for a bit...take care of some paperwork," Joe said as he took the cash drawer in hand.

"Okay," Daniel said and poured out a fresh cup of coffee. Thankfully, Joe had a good brand on hand - not a superior blend, but it was better than most bars had to offer.

Joe smiled at Daniel then he went across the room, unlocked his office door, and stepped inside. He didn't need to do anything other than put the cash in the safe, but Daniel didn't know that. He figured he could stay in here for a good fifteen to twenty minutes before Daniel came knocking, and he was going to use the time to sit down and rest. It had been a long day, and there was still no end in sight.

He moved a chair over next to the couch and let out a tiny sigh as he sat down. There was Methos, still lying dead. He looked almost angelic. It was hard to believe that at one time he'd been a terror and a scourge upon the face of the Earth...murdering, plundering...thank God he'd outgrown that phase of his life.

Methos had remained unconscious the entire time since he'd been placed on the couch. He'd clung to life for a while, and Joe had waited until he'd finally slipped away before he'd tended to him. It had taken some doing, but he'd gotten the old man's shirt changed, replacing it with one of the Polos he'd had done up with the bar's logo on it. Methos disliked the shirts, he'd said as much when he'd first seen Joe wearing one, but it was all Joe had on hand on such short notice.

"At least the green goes well with your eyes," Joe chuckled then he jumped, almost off his seat, as Methos revived, waking with a start and shooting straight up on the couch, his breathing highly erratic.

"Jack?" he called out.

"Take it easy," Joe said and reached over to rub Methos' shoulder. "Mac's taking care of things."

"Mac's taking care of things," Methos echoed with a harrumph as he swung his legs over the front of the couch. "Who the hell made him God? What gives him the right; that pompous..."

"Ease up," Joe interrupted. Methos had clearly revived on the wrong side of the couch. When was Joe going to learn to say no and save himself these headaches? "He only wants to save your head, you know?"

"Save my head," Methos snorted. "How? By losing his? Damn reckless..." he trailed off, stifling the thoughts running through his head before they poured forth from his mouth.

"I suppose you would have done better," Joe said, a distinct tone of disapproval in his voice.

"Yes. I had a plan in mind...if MacLeod would have shut up long enough to listen."

"Listen to what? You were acting completely irrational...beating up on Amanda...then you squared off against Mac with Jack's dagger. Don't you remember?"

"Amanda deserved far worse than she got," Methos fumed.

"Yeah...got to agree with you there," Joe sighed. "So, what was your plan?"

"I was going to determine Roberto's location then make a call to our buddy, Montrose, and tell him where he could find his precious disc. Once his thugs moved in...Roberto would have been occupied with them long enough for me to get in undetected and rescue Jack."

"That could have worked," Joe said with a nod.

"Yes, and without risking my head or anyone else's," Methos sighed. "You don't happen to know where they went, do you?"

"No. Mac's too smart to tell me."

"Yes. Well, there's hope there," Methos sighed then he gave Joe a quizzical look as his words replayed in his mind. "Damn."

"What?"

"I'm starting to sound like Jack...using his phraseology...next thing you know, I'll be doing his lousy puns," Methos chuckled. "I've really got it bad this time."

"The worst," Joe laughed. He'd noticed how Jack and Methos had begun to adopt each other's mannerisms and speech patterns, and had wondered how long it would take for Methos to realize what was happening. All in all, Joe would have to say the old man had caught on pretty damn quickly. "Listen, if you're feeling up to it, I could use your help with a little problem out in the bar."

"What kind of problem?"

"Daniel."

"Ah," Methos said with a nod and rose to his feet, prompting Joe to do likewise. He could well imagine what Daniel's inquisitive mind was coming up with, and could appreciate how delicate the situation was for Joe. "What have you told him?"

"Nothing...but he's getting anxious. So far I've kept busy enough to avoid his questions, but I can see them coming."

"I'll handle him," Methos said, patting Joe on the shoulder. He took a deep breath and stretched his arms over his head then he saw the shirt he was wearing and cringed. "Was this bloody thing your idea?"

"It's all I had. Would you rather have your other shirt back? The blood on it should be nice and dry by now," Joe said indignantly.

"No," Methos sighed and shook his head. "Never mind me...it's been a hell of a night. You're a good friend, Joe."

"You, too," Joe replied. "I have the dagger cleaned and stored in my desk, by the way," he said as they moved toward the door.

"Good. We'll leave it there for now...less tempting for me that way," Methos said and opened the door, stepping off to one side and allowing Joe to exit the room first.

"Adam," Daniel called out as he saw the two men approaching. "What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you, too, Daniel," Methos replied sarcastically as he arrived at the young man's side. "When you didn't show up this morning, I contacted Jack. To make a long story short, he told me to wait here with Joe...to stay out of the way while the professionals dealt with the matter at hand," he said, taking the seat next to Daniel's. "I took in a little nap in the office...just woke up."

"Oh," Daniel said, nodding his head. That made sense...sounded like Jack...

"You guys want to help me clean up?" Joe asked.

"We can't put poor Daniel to work, Joe," Methos protested, wrapping his arm around Daniel's shoulder. "What would George think of us if we treated one of his people so rudely?"

"Good point," Joe slowly responded, wondering what Methos was up to. Joe had thought that keeping Daniel occupied with manual labor would be a prudent course of action, but, obviously, Methos had something else in mind.

"Yes," Methos said as a Cheshire cat grin crossed his face. "Do you play poker, Daniel?"

"A little now and then..."

"Perfect...me, too," Methos jumped in, not allowing Daniel to say another word. "We'll use one of the booths. I'll go get the cards and chips and be right back," he said, rising to his feet. "Want to join us, Joe?"

"Sure, why not?" Joe shrugged and let out a tiny laugh. Hopefully, with Daniel in the game, Methos wouldn't fleece Joe of as much cash as he usually did. Maybe Joe would even stand a chance of winning a healthy pot for a change.

"Splendid...meet you over there...bring some more of that coffee along," Methos ordered and strolled off for the cabinet where the house games were held. Poker was the best solution at the moment for both him and Daniel. It would give Methos a way to occupy his mind, allow him to conceal his worry behind his poker face. And with any luck, Daniel would be too focused on the game to ask too many pesky questions.

~ ~ ~

Jack finished surveying the room he was in yet again and let out a deep sigh. From what he could actually see, he was in the office of a warehouse or hangar or some similar building...if only he could turn his head to see more. There was a wall directly across from him, filled for the most part with two rows of windows; to the far right, an open door; and to his left, what looked to be a table or desk. Maybe this had been a foreman's office at some point in the past?

He let out another deep sigh and blinked a few times, wondering what he might possibly try to free himself when he heard a sound that caused his stomach to turn. It was ahead of him, coming through the door and echoing faintly off the walls: two voices, both male, immediately followed by clashing swords. With the distortion, Jack hadn't been able to make out who was fighting...but he knew for sure that it wasn't Amanda.

"Don't let it be," Jack whispered, hoping that Roberto was sparring, or warming up with someone, or anything other than fighting Methos. The clanging continued to ripple upward for what felt like a near eternity then Jack saw Amanda entering the room supporting Ruscha on her shoulder and glanced at her with a pleading look. "Who's fighting?"

"Duncan and Roberto," Amanda said as she eased Ruscha to sit, resting her against the far wall, underneath the windows. "The plan was for him to draw Roberto away while I came for you. He was going to stay out of sight. It was working for a while...then I found Sandra, and she said she could take me to you...save me the time searching..." she drifted off and cringed as they heard the echo of a sword hitting the floor. After a pregnant pause they heard a loud groan of pain then the clanging of swords resumed and Amanda let out the breath she'd been holding. "Since when does Plan A ever work?" she asked, trying to lighten the air in the room as she made for Jack.

"Right," Jack sighed and stretched his neck as Amanda freed his head from the restraints. "Water?" He was parched.

"In the small room over there," Sandra said with a wave of her hand.

"Got it," Amanda said and gave Jack a gentle smile as she untied his right wrist. "Can you get the other?"

"Yes," Jack said with a nod and freed himself then sat forward, leaning over to stretch his back. As he saw Amanda's feet approaching he sat upright and gave her a half-smile.

"Here," Amanda said, handing over the cup of water.

"Thanks," Jack replied and drank the cup down with one large swallow. He then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stared over at the windows. Ruscha had lifted herself to her feet and was leaning heavily against one of the lower windows, gazing down below with an anxious expression on her face.

"Sandra," Amanda said as she walked to the younger woman's side. "It's best to not watch."

"Right...let's get down there and help Duncan," Jack said. He started for the door, but Amanda grabbed hold of him and drew him to stand beside her and Ruscha.

"We can't interfere...it's one of the rules," Amanda stated.

"Since when do the rules matter to you?" Jack scoffed and raised his eyebrows at her as she opened her mouth to speak. "And don't try to give me any bullshit about how you never break them."

Amanda bit her lip and gave Jack a flustered look that nearly made him laugh. She was at a complete loss for what to say. Score one for Jack.

"It's too late," Ruscha said, causing Amanda and Jack to join her in glancing down at the scene unfolding below them.

They saw Roberto's sword hit the ground and Roberto falling to his knees as Duncan sliced the backs of his legs. Then with a swift and smooth backhanded stroke, Duncan took Roberto's head, sending it in one direction while Roberto's body fell in the other. Panting for breath, Duncan went down to his knees, holding his sword with both hands, grounding himself as best he could to prepare for the inevitable.

"Let's..." Jack began.

"No...not yet," Amanda said and watched as The Quickening swirled from Roberto's body and engulfed Duncan's. "Get down," she ordered and shoved Ruscha to the floor, lying over top of her to shield her.

Jack, however, didn't move. He stood mesmerized, watching as what looked like an electrical charge flowed out of Duncan's right arm, sending it shooting straight up into the air. The energy then began to ricochet, taking out at least a half dozen lights on the far side of the warehouse floor, sending sparks raining down. Then Jack saw another charge coming from Duncan and heading directly for them. He ducked down with Amanda and Ruscha just as the upper row of windows started to shatter, sending glass showering all over them. After another long moment filled with crashing noise, everything suddenly silenced, and Amanda rose to her knees, brushing the glass off her shoulders.

"Now, you can go help him if you want," Amanda said and set about assisting Ruscha to her feet while Jack got up and headed once more for the door.

As Jack reached the bottom of the stairs, he heard Duncan moaning slightly and moved quickly to his side.

"You gonna be all right?" Jack asked.

"Yes," Duncan said with a nod and took another deep breath as he continued to regain his strength.

"Let me help you," Jack said and reached out to take hold of Duncan's arm. As soon as he touched him, a surge of energy shot out and sent Jack backwards, landing him flat on his ass.

"Jack," Amanda cried out as she saw what happened. She leaned Ruscha against the nearest support beam and hurried to Jack's side. "Are you hurt?"

"I don't think so," Jack said and shook his head. "I feel kinda tingly all over. What happened?"

"I'm not sure," Amanda said and looked up at Duncan, who had managed to stand and was now at their side.

"We can figure it out later. Right now, we need to get out of here," Duncan said.

"Not yet," Jack said and allowed Amanda to help him to his feet. "The disc," he began and looked over at Ruscha, "where is it, Sandra?"

"In his laptop," she said and lifted her hand to point at the far side of the room. "Looks like it got hit."

Jack glanced to the spot she was indicating, and sure enough, the laptop was still there, but it was charred, apparently hit by one of the ricochets. Jack went over anyway and examined it to be certain and found that the disc drive had melted, as had half the screen. If Montrose's files had been in there, they were lost to everyone now.

"You're certain the disc was in here?" Jack asked. There was no way he was going to walk off and knowingly leave quite possibly classified material behind. To do so would go against his years of training.

"Yes," Ruscha said. "And there were no copies...I hadn't finished with the encryption yet...Roberto was waiting..." she drifted off and gazed over at her former nightmare, lying dead, no longer a threat to her. On the one hand she was relieved, but on the other, she was wondering if she'd traded the one immortal for two others, who would make her life a double living hell. "What are you going to do with me?" she asked, shifting her focus to Duncan.

"First, take you to the hospital," Duncan said and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "Later, well, that's up to you."

"You're not going to claim me as a spoil of victory?" Ruscha asked, clearly confused. Roberto had forced her to watch on numerous occasions while he'd literally taken his spoils from his defeated opponents.

"No," Amanda said, shaking her head and moved to Ruscha's side, gently rubbing her shoulder. "We're not all psychotic like Roberto was. Remember when we were at Montrose's? I told you that I knew Roberto...how he worked?"

"Yes."

"I was telling you the truth. I know firsthand what you've been through, and I can help you get past it...if you'll trust me."

Ruscha looked into Amanda's eyes and could sense that she was being sincere. She couldn't completely trust Amanda; the woman was a thief, but, then again, so was she. For now, Ruscha decided that giving her the benefit of the doubt would be okay.

"The hospital sounds like a good start," Ruscha said and leaned in for a hug as Amanda cradled her to her shoulder.

"Good," Duncan said. He moved to get his coat and put his sword away then he pulled out his car keys and tossed them to Jack. "You drive."

"I can drive," Amanda spoke up.

"I'm not letting you drive my car," Duncan said incredulously.

"Why not?" Amanda protested.

"Children...please," Jack shouted and glared at both of them, wondering whom to slap first.

"Fine," Amanda harrumphed. "But you two aren't going to the hospital. You show up with Sandra looking like this and they're liable to arrest you on suspicion of domestic abuse."

"She's got a point," Jack said, glancing at Duncan.

"Fine. We'll drop you off then," Duncan said and took lead, making for the rear door of the building before anyone could say another word. The shock that had coursed through him when Jack touched him was something he'd never experienced before - not ever and it had him a bit nervous. What if something had been off about The Quickening? What if he was in danger of doing the same to someone else who touched him? He was going to have to speak with Methos about it once they got back to Joe's.

Damn...Methos was going to be pissed about being killed. With all that had happened, Duncan had nearly forgotten. Oh well, it was time to face the music. Maybe he'd get lucky and Methos would be in a better mood by now. Maybe he'd be so elated about having his Jack brought back alive, that he'd forgo any retribution he had in mind for Duncan. Deep down, Duncan doubted that he would escape Methos' wrath entirely, but he could hope.

8. Secrets

What a sweet ride...no wonder Duncan wouldn't let Amanda drive his car. If it were Jack's, he wouldn't either. Who knows where she might 'lose' it, or something? As they watched Amanda taking Ruscha into the hospital, Jack listened to the purr of the motor and let out a tiny sigh. Carter had her thing for motorcycles, and that was all well and good, but Jack would take a hummin' V-8 over any Harley, Indian, or any other bike Carter wanted to restore. To his mind, there was simply no comparison.

"You're sure you don't want to stop in?" Jack asked Duncan once the women were out of sight. "You still look a little green to me."

"I'll be fine," Duncan said with a grin. It was always odd to have a mortal concerned for his well being especially one who knew about his being an immortal. It was one of the things that Duncan somehow felt he would never get used to.

"Alright...next stop Joe's."

"Right...just pull around back."

"Sure," Jack said with a nod and got them back on their way. He really wished that Duncan or Amanda had brought a cell phone along. He wanted to call and let Methos know that he was all right. He'd thought about stopping to use a pay phone, but with the amount of time he would waste finding one, he could be that much closer to actually being at his lover's side, so he'd decided to wait. Normally, a little incident such as tonight's, wouldn't have left Jack nearly so rattled inside, but with it coming on the heels of nearly dying the week before...

"You're sure you're all right?" Duncan asked, noticing how Jack was blankly staring at the road ahead.

"I will be," Jack said and traded a tiny smile with Duncan then he focused back on his driving and increased their speed as much as he dared. They rode the remaining distance in silence then Jack parked behind Joe's and handed over Duncan's key ring. As they approached the rear door, Jack was a bit surprised to see Duncan instantly producing the proper key.

"Does Joe know you have that?" Jack asked curiously.

"Yes. He gave it to me," Duncan answered and swung the door open, waving Jack to go in first.

"Thanks," Jack said and waited for Duncan to turn on a light then he made his way toward the main room. As he entered it, he heard Daniel groaning and quickened his step in that direction to see what was the matter. Once Jack had him in view and saw that he was unharmed, he calmed considerably and started to laugh. Daniel was sitting in a booth with Joe and Methos, who was in the process of raking in a sizeable pot of chips. "So, how much has he taken you for?"

"Jack," Daniel called out and rose to his feet, stepping over to meet him. Once he was close enough, Daniel stilled, crossing his arms over, and stared Jack in the eye. "Why didn't you tell me you were working with Interpol?"

"Interpol?" Jack asked, a bit dumbfounded.

"Uh...sorry, Jack," Joe spoke up. "When you were taking so long...Daniel got worried...and I kind of told him about Amanda's investigation...how you were helping her out."

"Yes," Methos joined in. "But he didn't give us any details; the tease," he said with a tiny wink.

"She didn't give me any," Joe said, once more feigning his defense.

"Sure, she didn't," Methos teased him, keeping up the act they'd been playing for Daniel throughout their poker game.

"Oh...yeah...well, I'm not going to either," Jack said, taking on an air of authority. He'd have to find out more from Methos later about what Daniel had been told.

"I don't need the details," Daniel sighed. "But next time you're on loan, don't let me think you're on leave. I can keep a secret, you know," he pressed.

"Yes, you can," Jack said and patted Daniel on the shoulder. "Sorry, but professional courtesy...in fact...you'll need to forget all about Amanda. Officially, none of it's ever happened."

"None of it?" Daniel asked.

"That's right...uh...not even General Hammond was briefed on this one," Jack said, giving Daniel his most serious 'no-nonsense' look. "You should have never been involved."

Daniel locked eyes with Jack and pondered the situation. After a long moment, he nodded his head in understanding. Maybe one day he'd be able to read Amanda's report and find out the truth of what had happened, but he could tell that to pursue the matter at this point would be utterly futile.

"So, where's Amanda now?" Daniel asked.

"Gone. On her way out of the country," Jack stated.

"Oh," Daniel said with a nod and pulled Jack away from the others for a bit of privacy. "I've just got one question," he whispered.

"Only one?"

"When she was hugging you at the estate...uh...that was just an act, right?"

"Yes."

"Good," Daniel said with relief in his voice.

"What?" Jack could tell there was something on Daniel's mind.

"Well...not that it's my business, but I think you're much better off with Janet than you would be with Amanda."

"Janet?" Jack asked with a curious look on his face. "You think I've got a thing going with Doctor Fraiser?"

"Hey, I know you can't admit it...the regulations being as they are...but, well, all the extra time you two have been spending together lately...your lone visits to her office after hours. Don't try to tell me it's because you've suddenly decided that you like the infirmary," Daniel said with a grin.

Jack took on one of his patented O'Neill grins and joined Daniel for a tiny laugh then he switched to his most serious 'colonel' look and placed his hand on Daniel's shoulder.

"You haven't mentioned this to anyone else, have you?"

"Oh...no," Daniel said, shaking his head. "You know your secrets are safe with me...after all we've been through..." he trailed off.

"Good," Jack said and gave Daniel another tiny grin then he caught movement with the corner of his eye and glanced over and saw Duncan and Methos heading for Joe's office, so much for luring Methos into the bathroom for a private moment.

"So, Jack, guess it's time to pack it in for the night?" Joe asked, more than ready to do just that.

"Yeah...sounds good," Jack replied then he heard a loud thud followed by a shout coming from Joe's office and instantly moved in that direction. "I'll check it out. Daniel, help Joe clean up," he ordered and shuffled into the office as quickly as possible. Once inside, he saw Duncan doubled over, holding his groin, tears running down his cheeks. "What happened?" Jack asked.

"He tripped and collided with the corner of the desk," Methos said and stared at Duncan, daring him to contradict him.

Duncan simply nodded in agreement and took a deep breath, regaining his composure enough that he would be able to hold a lucid conversation. As much as he was hurting, he knew that Methos could have done far worse damage to him if he'd wanted to, and in a strange way, considered himself lucky.

"Listen, Methos, something odd happened," Duncan began, but hesitated as he saw Jack slinking up behind Methos and sliding his right hand along Methos' right hip.

"Odd how?" Methos asked. He wanted very much to be alone with Jack at the moment, but Duncan's tone of voice seemed off and he wanted to know why.

"Nothin'...he just shocked me, that's all," Jack said and nuzzled the right side of Methos' neck. Damn, but he smelled delicious.

"Shocked you? How?"

"He was helping me to my feet just after The Quickening and a surge of energy flowed through me...sent him flying backwards," Duncan explained and turned his eyes to the wall as Jack rested his chin on Methos' right shoulder. "I've never experienced anything like it...what if I shock someone else?"

"I don't think you will," Jack said and eased back from Methos, catching himself as his fingers were getting dangerously close to his lover's groin. His hands had been drifting forward of their own accord; and now was so not the time for that. "I mean, like you said, it was right after..."

"Or so it seemed," Methos jumped in, seeing where Jack was headed. "Maybe it wasn't completely over. Roberto was considerably older than you."

"Yes," Duncan said with a nod. "But I've taken older immortals' heads before without something like this."

"Yes, but in those cases, I'm willing to bet that you didn't have an audience. By the time you came into contact with someone else...it had finally dissipated," Methos said and took a deep breath as he felt the warmth of Jack's breath returning to his neck. "Tell you what, Mac, I'll make a note to look into as part of my doctoral research."

"Okay...what was that again?" Duncan knew that Methos was moving to Denver to pursue a doctorate as well as Jack, but frankly, he'd tuned the old man out when he'd started describing the details of his planned academic adventure. Duncan had seen his fill of academia - thank you very much.

"Biophysics," Methos said and let out a tiny sigh as he felt Jack's lips briefly grazing his neck. That was it. Duncan had to go. "You should go get cleaned up, Mac. Joe will be kicking the lot of us out any time now."

"Right," Duncan agreed and moved toward the door.

Methos saw Duncan out and locked the door behind him then he turned to Jack, took two broad steps forward and drew him in for a deep, passionate kiss that left both their heads reeling as they broke off for air.

"Wow," Jack sighed.

"Yes...quite," Methos purred and gently caressed Jack's cheek. "So, you're sure Duncan didn't hurt you?"

"Positive," Jack said and drew Methos in for another kiss.

"Good," Methos whispered and reached into his pocket. "Here," he said and placed a key in Jack's hand while he gave him yet another kiss. Damn but he wished they had more time to spend alone together just then. "Let yourself into the loft and wait for me. I'll take care of Daniel then meet you there."

"Should I put on the leather?" Jack asked with a devious grin crossing his face.

"No...tonight all I want to feel is you."

"I can go for that," Jack whispered and drew Methos in for one more kiss before they headed off to join the others.

~ ~ ~

Methos got Daniel situated in his new hotel, making sure that this time he was given a suite, then he double-checked the area to satisfy himself that they hadn't been followed. He highly doubted that Montrose or his goons would come after Daniel again; he wouldn't be worth the trouble, but it never hurt to be cautious. By this time, Methos suspected that Montrose had confirmed that the disc he had was a fake, and he most likely had his men combing the airports for Amanda and, possibly, Ruscha, too. It could make getting back to France difficult for them, however, that was their concern, not his.

On the other hand, Daniel had become very much Methos' concern. He was a member of Jack's team, and Methos counted him as one of his friends as well. Mind you, he wasn't about to tell Daniel any of his well-guarded secrets, they weren't anywhere near being that close, but he did feel a paternal urge to care for the young man. He really was so naïve about a great many things. After a judicious survey of the hotel and its surroundings, Methos finally felt comfortable leaving Daniel alone and made his way to his car to head for home.

Home. That word had greater meaning for Methos these days, especially with Jack there to greet him on his arrival. If only he could be there every night...oh well, such was life. With any luck, the military rules would change and Methos and Jack could be open about their relationship. Most likely, though, Methos would have to wait until Jack retired before they were able to share the same roof. Either way, Methos would welcome the day with open arms.

Traffic was virtually non-existent, so Methos was parking in front of the loft before he knew it. He secured the car and saw the outside light on with a soft light showing from the front window above. Jack was so thoughtful to have left them on. Of course Methos didn't need the lights on, many had been the night that he had stumbled his way home in the dark and managed just fine, but Jack's gesture warmed his heart and that's what really mattered.

As he went through the front door, Methos' nose was instantly tickled with the fragrance of vanilla. Jack had the candles lit again - scrumptious; maybe he'd stripped already, too? Methos went up the stairs and found Jack's clothes laying on the sofa, his boots sitting next to it - so far, so good. A quick scan of the place revealed that Jack was nowhere to be seen, but Eric Clapton's 'Lela' was playing softly, coming from the bathroom along with the aroma of the candles. 'Romantic Jack' was no doubt waiting in the bathtub for him, and the very thought sent a shiver down Methos' spine as he moved to turn off the lights. He disrobed in quick order, leaving his clothes with Jack's and strolled over to the kitchen.

"Jack?" he called out. "You want something to drink?"

"I'm good, thanks," Jack called back.

"Okay. Be right there," Methos said and grabbed a bottle of beer, which he sipped on while sauntering in his lover's direction.

"Hey, sexy man," Jack purred and let out a low whistle as he saw Methos walking in naked.

"Likewise," Methos said and leaned over to give Jack a tender kiss on the lips. "Mind if I join you?"

"It's your tub."

"True," Methos sighed and took another sip of beer while motioning for Jack to move forward. "I'm going to miss this...we can't both fit in yours," he said as he slid into the water, nestling in behind Jack.

"Maybe the owner will let you move it with you," Jack whispered and let out a tiny sigh as he leaned back into Methos, relishing the feel of his lover's cock against his backside, his legs wrapping around his hips.

"Not likely...besides, it won't fit in my apartment," Methos chuckled and drank down the last of his beer before tossing the bottle toward the wastebasket. "How are you doing?"

"Good...soaking my back helped...neck's still a little sore."

"Let me help," Methos whispered and began to nibble his way along the left side of Jack's neck while gently massaging the right. "You put on one of my CDs."

"Yeah," Jack sighed as he melted under Methos' touch.

"It's rock." He'd never heard Jack play anything other than opera or jazz.

"It's acoustic."

"Ah," Methos said and finished trailing his way along the one side of Jack's neck then shifted to trade lips and fingers, moving to nibble on the right and massage on the left. "Is this helping?"

"Oh...yeah..."

"Good," Methos whispered and continued his attentions, drinking in Jack's scent, feeling his own cock getting harder and harder as he pressed against Jack from behind. From the sound of Jack's breathing, Methos could tell he was getting similarly aroused - just as he should be.

"What time will Daniel be here?"

"Around noon for lunch...he expects you to be here...we should set the alarm."

"Okay," Jack said and let out a sizeable yawn. "Excuse me."

"Tired?"

"It's been a long day. Aren't you tired?"

"I got some sleep while you were gone," Methos said and wrapped his hands around Jack's waist, bringing him back with him so that they were both reclining.

"You slept?" Jack asked, obviously surprised. He wouldn't have been sleeping if he'd been the one waiting for Methos to be rescued.

"Mac left me no choice," Methos said and traced his tongue along Jack's right shoulder as his hands slid downward. "He didn't want me fighting Roberto...one thing led to another...I ended up dead for a while."

"What?"

"I paid him back; it's settled," Methos whispered and took hold of Jack's cock, gently teasing the tip with his thumb as he began stroking him. "We don't need to talk about it."

Jack was torn between wanting to hear more details of what had happened with Duncan, and wanting to give in completely to Methos' magnificent touch. It took only a fraction of a second for his mind to shut down and his curiosity to vanish. Damn, but Methos could work him just right...hit all the sensitive spots...keep his pace so that the pleasure lasted without losing its intensity. It was a good thing that Methos wasn't in a position to ever interrogate Jack, because at a moment like this he could pump any information out of him that he wanted.

"How's that?" Methos asked and smiled when Jack let out a low moan in response. Jack was gone; completely his to do with as he pleased and Methos loved having the control. "My love," he softly growled and began nipping at Jack's ear as he quickened his strokes.

They both shut their eyes, feeling only each other as they fell into sync...their breathing, their arousals, their gentle sighs and moans...it was like a symphony meshing in time with the soft guitar that continued to play in the background. One song melded into another until their ears no longer registered the sound. They were both lost then rose up together as one as Jack reached his peak.

"Methos," he cried out and lost his control, releasing his cum all over his lover's hand.

"That's it, my love," Methos whispered and worked Jack until he was turning flaccid then held them still as he felt The Aftershock beginning to hit. It was wonderful, invigorating, and seemed totally unaffected by the shock that Jack had received from Duncan. Testing it hadn't been Methos' main motivation for bringing Jack to climax first, but in the back of his mind, the scientist in Methos couldn't have devised a better experiment. Perhaps his subconscious had tricked him again?

"Hmmm..." Jack purred and went limp into Methos' arms. The Aftershock always made him feel so damn good - and horny. He noticed that Methos was still very much aroused, his cock so hard that it was throbbing behind him, and licked his lips in sweet anticipation. They would have to wait before Jack came again so they could have ample recovery time, otherwise they could get overloaded and dizzy like that one night...but that didn't mean that Methos' cock was off-limits.

"That was wonderful," Methos sighed and roamed his hands up Jack's torso, fingering his chest hairs as he nuzzled his neck.

"Yeah," Jack said and freed himself from Methos' hold and got out of the tub. "My turn to help you," he said with a mischievous grin and held out his hand.

"Splendid idea," Methos agreed, returning Jack's grin and took hold of his hand and rose to join him.

As soon as Methos' feet were firmly on the floor, Jack dove in for a deep, passionate kiss and lifted Methos into his arms. Methos wrapped his legs around Jack in response and Jack shifted him upwards, securing his legs around his waist then he moved his lips to Methos' neck as he carried him off to the bed, nibbling and licking, feasting on the tender flesh as if it were a choice steak.

They tumbled down onto the bed together, Jack shoving the bedding out of the way, then he stilled Methos, laying one arm over his abs while zooming in on his cock with his mouth, engulfing him with one fluid motion. This was going to be a fast one...Jack could tell...so could Methos. They were both far too worked up to be gentle or leisurely this time and neither was complaining.

Jack slid his lips and teeth up and down, sucking on Methos' tip with each pass. As he heard Methos' breathing increase to near crescendo, he reached down between his lover's legs and brushed his entrance with his fingertips then pushed in with two fingers. That did it. Methos came with a fury, shouting out Jack's name as he sat up, clutching Jack's shoulders. Jack let out a low, guttural moan of his own, as he sucked Methos dry, savoring the feel and taste in his mouth then he lifted his head and turned in for another deep kiss, sharing Methos' cum with him until they needed to break off for air.

"So, did I help?" Jack smirked. His inner imp was still very much awake despite the fatigue that was rapidly gaining ground within him. It had been an incredibly long day.

"Absolutely," Methos said and cradled Jack to his shoulder. Personally, Methos could have gone on for at least another round, but he could see the sleepiness mounting in Jack's eyes, and with Daniel coming over in a few hours... "Let's set the alarm and you can snuggle me to sleep."

"Yeahsureyoubetcha," Jack said, barely stifling a yawn. A moment later, he felt another yawn coming upon him and let it loose as he moved to his spot on the bed, flopping his head down onto the pillow waiting there for him. He was exhausted, spent, and thoroughly content to fall asleep with Methos at his side.

"Be right back," Methos said and set about tending to the alarm and other necessary matters. A few minutes later, he returned and crawled into bed, bringing the bedding with him as he snuggled into Jack's shoulder. "Good night, my love," he whispered, but heard only Jack's slow breathing in reply. He was already sound asleep. Methos let out a tiny sigh and fingered Jack's dreamy chest hairs one more time then he wrapped around his young lover and closed his eyes. Within mere moments, they were breathing in unison, and unknown to them, sharing similar dreams of one day living together - Jack's dream set in his cabin in Minnesota and Methos' set on an estate he owned in the south of France.

~ ~ ~

Daniel arrived at the S.G.C. bright and early Monday morning and found Jack waiting for him outside Hammond's office as they'd arranged. He studied Jack's face, noting that the cut on his lip now resembled nothing more than a tiny nick from shaving. Lucky him. Daniel's eye, on the other hand, still had lingering bruising that made it obvious to anyone looking that he'd taken a punch. He'd already had at least five people staring at him oddly since he'd arrived on the base. Thankfully, no one had asked him about it - yet.

"Good morning, Daniel," Jack greeted him.

"Good morning, Jack."

"Ready?"

"Yes."

"Good. Let's do this so we can grab some breakfast before we gate out," Jack said and knocked on Hammond's door.

"Enter," Hammond bellowed.

"Good morning, sir," Jack said, stepping inside. "Have a moment?"

"Certainly. Sit down...both of you," Hammond said with a nod and eyed Daniel curiously. "Doctor Jackson, what happened to your eye?"

"Sparring practice."

"Sparring practice?"

"If I may explain, sir," Jack said. "Doctor Pierson uses sparring as a means of working out. Daniel needs to learn to keep his right up."

"I see," Hammond said thoughtfully, eying both men. "So, how did things go with the Doctor? I see you both witnessed his nondisclosure," he said, opening the appropriate file on his desk.

"Very well, sir. His assistance proved to be invaluable," Daniel said. "Using his reference materials, we determined that the woman's image on the artifact brought back from P4X-565 is that of Inanna, the Sumerian goddess of love, fertility, and war, who was also the daughter of Ani, the Ancient Etruscan sky god. I'm somewhat familiar with both of them, but Doctor Pierson's insight concerning them...Ancient Sumer and pre-Roman Italy...well, sir, my knowledge pales in comparison."

"Is that so?" Hammond asked. Coming from Daniel, those were words of high praise that gave him cause to wonder why the Program hadn't sought out Doctor Pierson before now.

"Yes. In fact, he has many rare texts that aren't available within the regular circles of academia," Daniel stated.

"Yeah...he has an extensive collection," Jack added. He knew why, too. The rare text that Methos had shown Daniel was, in fact, one of Methos' own journals that he'd kept during his days in Ancient Sumer. Jack had thought him insane, showing it to Daniel as he had, but Methos had claimed it was something he'd picked up at an auction from an anonymous seller, and Daniel had bought the story, so it had all worked out.

"I haven't had time to read your entire report, Doctor Jackson, but I see that you've petitioned that the artifact be kept here at the S.G.C. indefinitely?" Hammond said, prompting him to continue.

"Yes, sir," Daniel said and adjusted his glasses. "Ani is known as a two-faced god, similar to the later Roman god Janus, but Doctor Pierson pointed out that the description of him on the artifact was properly translated as two-masked."

"Meaning?"

"Only one face was ever seen at any given time, as with a symbiote and host...and he was said to reside in 'the highest heaven', possibly that was some sort of spacecraft."

"So, you think this Ani is a Goa'uld?"

"No, sir," Jack said, bringing himself back into the conversation. "According to SG-8, the locals referred to Ani as a kind and just god; definitely not a Goa'uld. I suggest we check with Jacob the next time he comes around to see if maybe this Ani was a Tok'ra."

"I don't think he was," Daniel took over, excitedly. "General, the text spoke of Ani sending his daughter to gather those who would join him in their new home in order to preserve the bloodline, and how she did so with help from 'beings of light'. Apparently, they were good guys, but nowhere in the story was anything resembling ring transport mentioned. I think we're talking a different group of aliens."

"Possible allies?" Hammond asked.

"Perhaps, sir," Jack said. "Tell him the kicker, Daniel."

"Right. Uh...in the reference that Doctor Pierson showed us, there were diagrams of buildings with architecture very similar to that of P4X-565 and to the repository SG-1 recently visited."

"The one that nearly killed Colonel O'Neill?" Hammond pressed for clarification.

"Yes, sir," Daniel said and leaned forward in his seat. "It's my theory that the same people who built that repository, who built the Stargates, were on Earth in Ancient Sumer and relocated people from there to P4X-565, and maybe to other worlds as well."

"The bottom line, sir, is that Daniel believes that this 'highest heaven' may be a real place where we might find some advanced technology to help us in kicking the Goa'ulds' collective butts," Jack said, getting to the part that he knew Hammond was waiting for.

"Understood," Hammond said with a nod. "I'll squeeze a follow-up visit to -565 into your rotation schedule. Until then, do what you can with what you have," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," Jack said and rose to his feet as he could tell from his tone of voice that Hammond was effectively dismissing them. Just in time, too. Jack had a date with a bowl of Fruit Loops and a large mug of coffee.

"One more thing, sir, if I may," Daniel said as he stood next to Jack.

"Yes, Doctor?" Hammond asked, looking up from his desk while he shuffled the next file he needed to review over in front of him.

"I'd like to request a full background check on Doctor Pierson...get things started for bringing him in with full disclosure."

Hammond pursed his lips and stared at Daniel for a few seconds then he nodded his consent, exactly as Jack had anticipated. That's why he'd had a special little talk with Methos before he'd left New York. Methos had his 'Adam Pierson' persona well established already, of course, but by the time Daniel got the paperwork typed up, Methos would have certain adjustments in place to insure that his alter ego, as it were, would hold up under the scrutiny of the United States Government without raising any unwanted suspicions. Once the checks were done, he would adjust it back, so that he would once again be more difficult to track down.

"List Joe Dawson as a character reference; I'll phone him and give him the heads up."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Daniel said and walked past Jack, out into the hall.

"Colonel O'Neill, just a moment," Hammond said, stopping Jack in his tracks.

"Yes, sir?" Jack replied, standing at attention, putting on his best poker face.

"Looks like you need to learn to keep your guard up, too," Hammond said, running his index finger along his own lip, mirroring where Jack's had been cut open. "I don't want it to be said that my 2IC was bested by an academic during sparring practice."

"It was a sucker punch, sir. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," Hammond said then his expression changed to a beaming smile. "Meet you in the gate room at 09:00, Colonel."

"Yes, sir," Jack said and made his way down the hall and to the elevator for the ride up to the commissary. With all things being normal, and no unexpected surprises rearing their ugly head, sometime in the next few months, Daniel would be giving Methos the basic Stargate 101 introductory speech. The mere thought gave Jack butterflies in his stomach. Finally, he'd be able to share with his lover about his work and not have to guard his words so damn carefully. That was going to be a night for celebration, and he could hardly wait.

FIN