Methos stood in the window, staring disgustedly out at the blowing
snow. "Sure," he said sarcastically to his friend who was building
a fire in the fireplace, "The one time I let you talk me into
roughing it, we get a blizzard." He gazed out at the swirling
flakes, lost in thought for a moment. It had been very lonely for
him since MacLeod had discovered his 'secret' past, but now he had
another chance to rebuild their friendship. He had been surprised
but pleased when MacLeod had approached him tentatively regarding a
trip to 'get away from it all'.
After all the efforts he'd made to pick up their friendship had met
with rebuff after rebuff, he'd almost given up. But MacLeod was
making the first gesture, and that was a good sign that there was
something salvageable in their relationship.
After five thousand years, he had been surprised at himself for
feeling so hurt that someone he'd known for such a short time had
turned away from him over something that had happened in the oh-so-
distant past. If he actually believed in luck, he would cross his
fingers. Hell, he'd cross his arms, legs, toes, eyes, whatever it
He snorted and shook his head, giving a wry laugh. He was too old
to be feeling so . . . giddy! "You can't see two feet past the
window, and you swore the weather would be fine."
"Roughing it?" MacLeod looked at him in amazement. "You've been
around 5,000 years, and you call this 'roughing it'?" He sat back
on his heels and laughed. "Now I've heard everything!" He turned
back with a grin to the fire. "Besides, the weathermen all said
the storm would hold back at least another week."
"Storm?!" Methos made a face at him, then looked back out the
window at a wall of white and shivered. "Now he tells me about the
storm! Well, MacLeod, it's been a few hundred years or so since
I've actually roughed it, but since you're the woodsy type, I'll just
let you handle the axe and shovel." He held up his hands. "Can't
ruin these writer's hands."
MacLeod snorted and gave him a we'll-see look.
"Nice place your friend has in this hunting lodge, MacLeod," Methos
said. "I hope your island cabin has a hot tub, or at least a water
heater?" He rubbed his arms with his hands, thinking of the cold
snow outside, swearing the temperature had dropped 20 degrees on the
inside. "How about a furnace?"
MacLeod shrugged. "I go there to get away from it all, Methos, not to
take it with me." He glared at his friend. "See how soft you've
gotten? You can't live without modern conveniences." He ducked
his head, trying hard not to grin.
Methos made a sputtering sound and had just turned from the window
when he froze, caught by some small sound barely heard between the
howling wind gusts. MacLeod looked at him in puzzlement before he,
too, heard the sound. They looked at each other as they both
realized it was a human cry. MacLeod was pulling his parka on when
Methos grabbed his shoulder.
"Don't go, MacLeod! It could be a trap!"
"A trap? In this weather!?" MacLeod was incredulous.
"Especially in this weather!" Methos was emphatic. "The renegade
Watchers wouldn't let something so small as a blizzard with 70 mph
winds stop them!"
MacLeod paused a moment, then shrugged off his friend's hand. "I
still have to go check it out." He quickly zipped his parka and
pulled on gloves as his friend glared at him.
"The Eternal Boyscout, aren't you, MacLeod?" Methos turned away to
drag a hurricane lantern from the closet. MacLeod looked at Methos,
hearing the concern and worry that lay under the sarcasm.
"Just be ready for me," he requested in a quiet voice.
Methos handed him the lit lantern in answer. They paused a moment,
not speaking, then MacLeod gave Methos a sharp nod and opened the
door. A snow-covered figure surprised them both by practically
falling into his arms and sobbing, "Thank God you're here!" MacLeod
tightened his arms about the figure as it suddenly went limp.
"Do all your vacations start off with this much fun?" Methos inquired
as he leaned against the wind to shut the door.
MacLeod didn't answer but headed straight for the couch in front of
the fire and unceremoniously unloaded his armful. He quickly shed
his parka and gloves, then left the room to get some blankets while
his friend took over.
When Methos started working on the stranger, he discovered a young
woman under the snow and ice crystals. He stripped the cold wet
clothing from her body, then wrapped her in some quilts that MacLeod
handed him. He gestured to the fire, and MacLeod built it into a
roaring blaze. Methos stood back a moment, considering the woman's
"Well, how is she?" MacLeod asked quietly.
"She should fine," Methos answered, wearing a frown. "We just need
to get her warmed up. She doesn't appear to have been exposed to the
blizzard for very long, but she certainly wasn't dressed for it!"
MacLeod nodded, remembering his own bitter experiences with the cold
in the past.
"I'll heat some water," MacLeod offered. Methos nodded.
"Make sure it's just lukewarm. We don't want to cause any damage if
there IS some frostbite." He sighed, then looked at MacLeod. "Well,
go finish your good deed for the day! Get the water heated!" He
smiled as MacLeod gave him a quick three-fingered salute with a
When MacLeod came out of the kitchen with a dishpan of warm water and
some cloths, Methos unwrapped the girl and they started warming her
arms and legs. They kept working on her until Methos was satisfied
with the look and feel of her now warm limbs. They carefully tucked
the quilts back around her, then stood up.
"She should stay here on the couch, since this is the room with the
heat," the old Immortal told his friend. He dragged a sleeping bag
from a pile of camp gear next to the door and shook it out in front
of the couch. "I'll stay here, just to make sure she is ok."
MacLeod dragged his own sleeping bag over in front of the fire and
shook it out. "So will I."
Methos shook his head. "MacLeod," he said, rolling his eyes.
"She'll be fine. Trust me."
MacLeod made a show of plumping a pillow from off the couch. "That's
just it. I don't trust you."
They each hid their smiles as they got into the sleeping bags and
turned their backs to each other. They both drew a breath, and then,
"Goodnight!" rang out in unison. Not another sound was heard until