"Interference," Ch. 2
Apr. 23rd, 2005 04:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rivendellroseFandom: Highlander
Title: "Interference," Chapter 2.
Rating, Summary, etc: General, with a bit of a warning for language. Takes up directly after the end of "Interference", and continues in Amy's POV as she learns more about her new 'assignment.' See the warnings and summary before "Interference" for more details - here, let it suffice to say that I'm tweaking post-series canon a bit, and that I don't own anybody who's named in here. Oh, right - and a bit of cursing.
“Call me Methos.”
Amy barely managed to keep the sip of coffee she’d just taken in her mouth, and when she finally swallowed, she felt choked, as though it had been a solid ball of metal that hd gone down her throat. “Methos. You’re joking.”
“No. You can ask Joe if you want, or MacLeod.”
“Joe knows? And he didn't tell me.” That last was less a surprise than Amy wanted to admit. So far in their very short attempt at a filial relationship, withholding information seemed to be an ongoing trend.
Adams – or Methos? Amy mentally shook off the mere thought – That Man, in any case, nodded, as though the question was one of merely academic interest to them both and not at all a case of personal concern and tantamount to treason within the Watchers. “Yes, he knows. He didn’t at first – we knew each other for quite a while before he found out. Ten years, in fact. That’s what I promised to tell you… I was a Watcher for some time. Adam Pierson, at your service,” he added ironically.
“You… but… that’s insane!” Amy pushed her coffee aside, feeling sick. “An immortal in the ranks of the Watchers, and Joe didn’t tell anyone? What was he thinking? What were you thinking? All our records, the chronicles, the files…”
He leaned forward intently. “Amy, listen to me. I never intended to damage the Watchers network – I needed a place to hide, where I could watch the others and not worry about being noticed.”
“And conveniently keep track of all their movements!”
“It wasn’t like that. I watched for my enemies, yes, and immortals who actively hunt, but look in the files – I haven't hunted in centuries. I never used the chronicles like that.”
“How am I supposed to believe you? You’ve lied about everything you’ve…” Amy trailed off. That wasn’t entirely true.
“I may not have told you the truth, Amy, but I didn’t lie,” Methos corrected gently. “I was very careful about that, because I hoped I would be able to tell you the truth, once I could trust you with it. As for Joe… don’t blame your father. He kept my secret because he knew as well as I did the potential consequences if I was discovered.” He offered a small smile. “He did what he does best – he watched, and got me talking as often as he could, and learned. And once I’d been outed, he provided all the information he’d gathered.”
It was all too much for Amy to handle at that moment. "I need to go."
"Understandable." Methos set down his coffee cup and opened the door for her. "Talk to Joe, and think about what I've said."
Watching him suspiciously, Amy left the apartment without looking back. Joe had a lot of explaining to do.
~*~
Mid-morning traffic, exacerbated by a three-car accident on the freeway, didn't help Amy's mood, and by the time she arrived at Joe's downtown bar she had reached a level of cold, concentrated anger that she couldn't remember finding for a single, otherwise-likeable person ever before. She pushed into the bar, ignoring the 'Closed' sign on the front door and stalking straight across the room to Joe, who sat at a table with a ledger and calculator in front of him. "What the hell were you thinking? I fuck up my first field assignment, so you get me reassigned to the oldest living immortal??"
Joe raised his hands in a gesture begging peace. "Hey, it wasn't just my idea. His most recent Watcher is getting too old for all the travel Methos does, he wants to retire from active field work, and Methos said something about wanting the kind of set-up Mac and I have, since he already knows about us..."
"So you decided it'd be easy for me, is that it?" Amy scowled.
"Hey, I'm either shoving you in too fast, or I'm keeping you out of the game - you can't have it both ways. It wasn't either, anyway - we thought you'd be a good choice. He wants someone he can trust, someone he already knows, and he asked if you'd gotten your next gig yet."
Amy snorted. This was unbelievable, and she was getting nowhere with him. "Incidentally, did it ever occur to you that the Tribunal ought to know we had an immortal in our ranks?"
"What so they could kill him like they tried to kill Mac? He's left, Amy, and the people who need to know, know. Why do you think he's alright with getting saddled with a Watcher, now? He left the Watchers a while ago, and then someone in research put two and two together after comparing some surveillance footage with old pictures of 'Adam Pierson.'"
"And you never said a damned thing."
Joe shook his head. "No. Amy, I didn't want to lose him. He's a slippery guy, if he found out I'd told, he'd have disappeared and it could've taken centuries to find him again, if we ever did."
"You falsified records, Joe!"
"I didn't falsify them. I just... left a few things out. Amy, this isn't the black and white job they tell you it is in the Academy. Sometimes you have to make the hard choices, and maybe they're wrong, but, it's all you can do."
Amy pinched the bridge of her nose. "I can't believe we're having this conversation."
"It's all done, anyway, now. They know. So let's just focus on the present. Methos needs a Watcher, and he asked if you'd been reassigned."
"So you told him about my little 'problem.'"
"I told him you'd been out of the game since the thing with Walker. Anybody'd have problems after going through that."
Amy's lip curled. "I know. I've been hearing it from the Tribunal-appointed psychologist for the last month." She pushed away the glass of Scotch that Joe set in front of her, her face screwing up into an expression of disgust, though whether for the drink or the thought of her therapist she wasn't sure. "How many Watchers do you know who've had to go through psychiatric care after their first assignment? Or at all?"
"Not as many as I should have." Joe shook his head. "It's a damn hard job, Amy, and we've had some good men and women crack under the pressure. The big shots have learned it's in their favor to make sure that doesn't happen again."
"I'm not on the way to becoming the next Horton!"
"I know that. Shit, all of us do, you're only with the shrink so this doesn't eat at you any longer than it has to. They're being careful - they always are with new Watchers. I don't wanna talk about all the evaluations I went through when I was in the Academy."
Amy's brows drew in. "They didn't do that with my year..."
"Yeah, well, your year didn't have a bunch of kids just back from a war. Look, Amy, the point is, Methos would lose a normal Watcher in a week, and he'd laugh all the way about how it served the Tribunal right for being pissed off at him slipping under their radar. He might be a bastard sometimes, but even they know it's worth sticking close to him - we're talking about a guy who's seen the majority of human history unfold. He's worth a bit of headache."
"I know." Amy laid her forehead on the cool surface of the bar. 'Headache' didn't begin to describe the pounding behind her eyes, and just looking at the preparations behind the bar for the late lunch crowd was making her stomach coil around itself. "I just don't want to mess this up, Joe."
Joe's expression softened, and he leaned his arms on the bar. "You won't. Just talk to him, listen to him. Travel with him when you want to, make sure he stays in touch when you don't - he's got a cell phone, now, Mac bought it for him as a late Christmas present. He loves the sound of his own voice, so you're not gonna have trouble getting him to talk to you. You might even like him, after a while," Joe smirked. "The bastard tends to grow on people."
"Yeah." Amy smiled. "He seems nice." /For an immortal.../
"He is, sometimes. I gotta admit he drives me nuts sometimes - he has to be right, even when nobody wants to hear it."
"He is a bit pedantic, isn't he?"
Joe laughed. "In the worst way," he agreed. "He'd say he's earned it, I'm sure." He pursed his lips and seemed to hesitate over his next words. "Just... one more thing, Amy. When you look over his files, go backward through time. And keep an open mind. He's been around a long time, and times were different back then. He's changed a lot. Just try not to judge him completely based on what happened back in the dark ages, okay?"
"Okay." Amy stood up and leaned over the bar to hug Joe. She couldn't quite think of him as her father, yet, but he was definitely winning her over as a mentor. "G'night, Joe. Take care."
"You, too, kid. G'night. Call me if you need anything."
"I will." Amy shrugged her raincoat on and paused at the door to wave before slipping out into the drizzly night and behind her, Joe glanced at the clock, mentally calculating how long it would take Amy to get home, turn on her computer, access the Watcher network, and work backwards to a particular entry describing a time three thousand years before the present.
~*~
An hour and a half later, just as the evening crowd was settling in to the bar and the staff were getting antsy for their 'lunch' breaks, the phone rang. Joe waved off the waitress who moved to answer it - nice girl, but she didn't need to deal with what he expected this call would bring. "Joe's," he answered.
"Joe Dawson, you set me up Watching a Horseman of the fucking Apocalypse??!"
Joe sighed. "Hi, Amy. Traffic must've been good if you got to that already. Alright... Lemme go pick this up in the back room, then we'll talk."
~*~
Amy waited on a park bench the next morning, grateful that despite the perennial Seacouver cloud-cover, she hadn't yet needed her umbrella. When the expected trenchcoat-clad figure approached and sat on the bench beside her, she took a deep breath and a sip of Earl Grey from her travel mug to steady herself. "I've looked over your file."
"That explains the request that we meet in public," Methos commented calmly. "I assume you have questions, particularly about some of the early entries."
"You could say that. Is it true, about the Horsemen?" The conversation with Joe last night had done little to assuage Amy's fears, although the tiny revolver in her purse did help somewhat. Joe had bought it for her the week after the whole Walker disaster. A purse-sized comfort, it certainly wouldn't kill an immortal, but it - and the lessons she'd taken in firing it properly - held the promise of stopping them long enough for her to escape or call for back-up. Joe had assured her it wouldn't be necessary with Methos, but after looking over Watcher files scattered over five thousand years, Amy felt a bit better with a weapon.
He squinted at the cloudy sky above them. "Considering it was Joe who entered all that information, yes, it's probably all true. You'll have to be more specific if you want details."
"You seem awfully calm about this."
A little chuckle. "Do I? I suppose three thousand years of getting used to something will do that."
"Do you regret it?" Amy challenged.
"What do you think?" He turned to meet her eyes, holding them with a defiant expression until she turned away to look at her notes. "Of course I do. I won't let it eat my life away, but I do regret what I did in those days, yes."
"The file states that when Kronos found you again, you left with him and helped him find the other two Horsemen, and assisted with plans for world domination." This sounds like the script for a bad James Bond movie, Amy thought.
"That's true."
"Why?"
"Because I don't have a death wish."
Amy was beginning to learn that the calm voice she'd so envied back when she'd thought of the man in front ofher as Benjamin Adams could be damned annoying, now that she knew his real past. "So you were willing to help this man kill possibly thousands of people, to protect your own neck." Amy snorted. "How noble of you."
"I survive. It's what I do."
"At no cost to you, and every cost to everyone else."
"No cost?" Methos laughed bitterly. "Little girl, you have no idea what you're talking about."
Amy gritted her teeth and refused to look up from her notes. "Then tell me, if you're so certain there's more to it than that."
They both fell silent for a moment to let a group of morning joggers pass the bench, and then Methos leaned in, speaking quietly and almost against her ear. "Would you be so willing to give up life, if you had five thousand years of memories, and no limit to the time you might have in the future if you didn't waste it? Would you be so quick to surrender if doing so meant giving more power to a crazed psychopath with an obsession with destruction? You know the power dynamics of immortals - do you want to lay odds on how long the world would have lasted if Kronos had the power of a five thousand year-old immortal in his veins? I think even you would see selfishness as a virtue in that situation."
"Convenient, for you." Amy massaged her temples, grateful for a moment for how cold her fingers had grown.
"Yes, but also pragmatic. Would you want Kronos to be The One?"
"Would I want you to be?"
Methos laughed. "I wouldn't worry about that. I have no desire to be an active player in the Game. You should trade with Joe, if you want to watch that."
"You're the oldest living immortal, how could you not be a contender?"
He shrugged. "I just want to live. If that means killing the others, perhaps I will be. I'm not going to risk my life actively trying to accomplish it, though - luck will never hold forever for those who seek out fights."
"MacLeod doesn't hunt. Sounds like you two have the same philosophy."
"MacLeod try to avoid other immortals, or run from fights. I do."
"So you're a pacifist, now?" Amy rolled her eyes and took another sip of tea. This guy really was too much.
"Hardly." Methos smirked. "I kill when necessary - you saw that. The reason Walker was so determined to get me was that I'd avoided him for about two hundred years since his initial challenge." A passing woman glanced their way, apparently having caught at least part of his last sentence. He offered her a bright, bland smile, and turned back to Amy. "Perhaps we should take this conversation back to my flat? Or yours, if you're afraid to be caught alone in my territory."
Just a hint of a tease hung on that last sentence, willing Amy to rise to the challenge. She weighed everything he'd told her. Joe trusted him - was that enough? He was right that they couldn't very well continue as they'd been doing, now that the lunch hour for many of the surrounding office buildings was bringing hordes of people outside. She felt confident enough to take the bait. "Your place is closer."
He stood and held out a hand to carry her satchel for her. "Thank you."
"For what?"
He smiled. "For trusting me."
"I wouldn't go that far," Amy grumbled, shifting her purse on her shoulder as they headed out of the park.
~ * ~
(To be continued.)
Title: "Interference," Chapter 2.
Rating, Summary, etc: General, with a bit of a warning for language. Takes up directly after the end of "Interference", and continues in Amy's POV as she learns more about her new 'assignment.' See the warnings and summary before "Interference" for more details - here, let it suffice to say that I'm tweaking post-series canon a bit, and that I don't own anybody who's named in here. Oh, right - and a bit of cursing.
“Call me Methos.”
Amy barely managed to keep the sip of coffee she’d just taken in her mouth, and when she finally swallowed, she felt choked, as though it had been a solid ball of metal that hd gone down her throat. “Methos. You’re joking.”
“No. You can ask Joe if you want, or MacLeod.”
“Joe knows? And he didn't tell me.” That last was less a surprise than Amy wanted to admit. So far in their very short attempt at a filial relationship, withholding information seemed to be an ongoing trend.
Adams – or Methos? Amy mentally shook off the mere thought – That Man, in any case, nodded, as though the question was one of merely academic interest to them both and not at all a case of personal concern and tantamount to treason within the Watchers. “Yes, he knows. He didn’t at first – we knew each other for quite a while before he found out. Ten years, in fact. That’s what I promised to tell you… I was a Watcher for some time. Adam Pierson, at your service,” he added ironically.
“You… but… that’s insane!” Amy pushed her coffee aside, feeling sick. “An immortal in the ranks of the Watchers, and Joe didn’t tell anyone? What was he thinking? What were you thinking? All our records, the chronicles, the files…”
He leaned forward intently. “Amy, listen to me. I never intended to damage the Watchers network – I needed a place to hide, where I could watch the others and not worry about being noticed.”
“And conveniently keep track of all their movements!”
“It wasn’t like that. I watched for my enemies, yes, and immortals who actively hunt, but look in the files – I haven't hunted in centuries. I never used the chronicles like that.”
“How am I supposed to believe you? You’ve lied about everything you’ve…” Amy trailed off. That wasn’t entirely true.
“I may not have told you the truth, Amy, but I didn’t lie,” Methos corrected gently. “I was very careful about that, because I hoped I would be able to tell you the truth, once I could trust you with it. As for Joe… don’t blame your father. He kept my secret because he knew as well as I did the potential consequences if I was discovered.” He offered a small smile. “He did what he does best – he watched, and got me talking as often as he could, and learned. And once I’d been outed, he provided all the information he’d gathered.”
It was all too much for Amy to handle at that moment. "I need to go."
"Understandable." Methos set down his coffee cup and opened the door for her. "Talk to Joe, and think about what I've said."
Watching him suspiciously, Amy left the apartment without looking back. Joe had a lot of explaining to do.
~*~
Mid-morning traffic, exacerbated by a three-car accident on the freeway, didn't help Amy's mood, and by the time she arrived at Joe's downtown bar she had reached a level of cold, concentrated anger that she couldn't remember finding for a single, otherwise-likeable person ever before. She pushed into the bar, ignoring the 'Closed' sign on the front door and stalking straight across the room to Joe, who sat at a table with a ledger and calculator in front of him. "What the hell were you thinking? I fuck up my first field assignment, so you get me reassigned to the oldest living immortal??"
Joe raised his hands in a gesture begging peace. "Hey, it wasn't just my idea. His most recent Watcher is getting too old for all the travel Methos does, he wants to retire from active field work, and Methos said something about wanting the kind of set-up Mac and I have, since he already knows about us..."
"So you decided it'd be easy for me, is that it?" Amy scowled.
"Hey, I'm either shoving you in too fast, or I'm keeping you out of the game - you can't have it both ways. It wasn't either, anyway - we thought you'd be a good choice. He wants someone he can trust, someone he already knows, and he asked if you'd gotten your next gig yet."
Amy snorted. This was unbelievable, and she was getting nowhere with him. "Incidentally, did it ever occur to you that the Tribunal ought to know we had an immortal in our ranks?"
"What so they could kill him like they tried to kill Mac? He's left, Amy, and the people who need to know, know. Why do you think he's alright with getting saddled with a Watcher, now? He left the Watchers a while ago, and then someone in research put two and two together after comparing some surveillance footage with old pictures of 'Adam Pierson.'"
"And you never said a damned thing."
Joe shook his head. "No. Amy, I didn't want to lose him. He's a slippery guy, if he found out I'd told, he'd have disappeared and it could've taken centuries to find him again, if we ever did."
"You falsified records, Joe!"
"I didn't falsify them. I just... left a few things out. Amy, this isn't the black and white job they tell you it is in the Academy. Sometimes you have to make the hard choices, and maybe they're wrong, but, it's all you can do."
Amy pinched the bridge of her nose. "I can't believe we're having this conversation."
"It's all done, anyway, now. They know. So let's just focus on the present. Methos needs a Watcher, and he asked if you'd been reassigned."
"So you told him about my little 'problem.'"
"I told him you'd been out of the game since the thing with Walker. Anybody'd have problems after going through that."
Amy's lip curled. "I know. I've been hearing it from the Tribunal-appointed psychologist for the last month." She pushed away the glass of Scotch that Joe set in front of her, her face screwing up into an expression of disgust, though whether for the drink or the thought of her therapist she wasn't sure. "How many Watchers do you know who've had to go through psychiatric care after their first assignment? Or at all?"
"Not as many as I should have." Joe shook his head. "It's a damn hard job, Amy, and we've had some good men and women crack under the pressure. The big shots have learned it's in their favor to make sure that doesn't happen again."
"I'm not on the way to becoming the next Horton!"
"I know that. Shit, all of us do, you're only with the shrink so this doesn't eat at you any longer than it has to. They're being careful - they always are with new Watchers. I don't wanna talk about all the evaluations I went through when I was in the Academy."
Amy's brows drew in. "They didn't do that with my year..."
"Yeah, well, your year didn't have a bunch of kids just back from a war. Look, Amy, the point is, Methos would lose a normal Watcher in a week, and he'd laugh all the way about how it served the Tribunal right for being pissed off at him slipping under their radar. He might be a bastard sometimes, but even they know it's worth sticking close to him - we're talking about a guy who's seen the majority of human history unfold. He's worth a bit of headache."
"I know." Amy laid her forehead on the cool surface of the bar. 'Headache' didn't begin to describe the pounding behind her eyes, and just looking at the preparations behind the bar for the late lunch crowd was making her stomach coil around itself. "I just don't want to mess this up, Joe."
Joe's expression softened, and he leaned his arms on the bar. "You won't. Just talk to him, listen to him. Travel with him when you want to, make sure he stays in touch when you don't - he's got a cell phone, now, Mac bought it for him as a late Christmas present. He loves the sound of his own voice, so you're not gonna have trouble getting him to talk to you. You might even like him, after a while," Joe smirked. "The bastard tends to grow on people."
"Yeah." Amy smiled. "He seems nice." /For an immortal.../
"He is, sometimes. I gotta admit he drives me nuts sometimes - he has to be right, even when nobody wants to hear it."
"He is a bit pedantic, isn't he?"
Joe laughed. "In the worst way," he agreed. "He'd say he's earned it, I'm sure." He pursed his lips and seemed to hesitate over his next words. "Just... one more thing, Amy. When you look over his files, go backward through time. And keep an open mind. He's been around a long time, and times were different back then. He's changed a lot. Just try not to judge him completely based on what happened back in the dark ages, okay?"
"Okay." Amy stood up and leaned over the bar to hug Joe. She couldn't quite think of him as her father, yet, but he was definitely winning her over as a mentor. "G'night, Joe. Take care."
"You, too, kid. G'night. Call me if you need anything."
"I will." Amy shrugged her raincoat on and paused at the door to wave before slipping out into the drizzly night and behind her, Joe glanced at the clock, mentally calculating how long it would take Amy to get home, turn on her computer, access the Watcher network, and work backwards to a particular entry describing a time three thousand years before the present.
~*~
An hour and a half later, just as the evening crowd was settling in to the bar and the staff were getting antsy for their 'lunch' breaks, the phone rang. Joe waved off the waitress who moved to answer it - nice girl, but she didn't need to deal with what he expected this call would bring. "Joe's," he answered.
"Joe Dawson, you set me up Watching a Horseman of the fucking Apocalypse??!"
Joe sighed. "Hi, Amy. Traffic must've been good if you got to that already. Alright... Lemme go pick this up in the back room, then we'll talk."
~*~
Amy waited on a park bench the next morning, grateful that despite the perennial Seacouver cloud-cover, she hadn't yet needed her umbrella. When the expected trenchcoat-clad figure approached and sat on the bench beside her, she took a deep breath and a sip of Earl Grey from her travel mug to steady herself. "I've looked over your file."
"That explains the request that we meet in public," Methos commented calmly. "I assume you have questions, particularly about some of the early entries."
"You could say that. Is it true, about the Horsemen?" The conversation with Joe last night had done little to assuage Amy's fears, although the tiny revolver in her purse did help somewhat. Joe had bought it for her the week after the whole Walker disaster. A purse-sized comfort, it certainly wouldn't kill an immortal, but it - and the lessons she'd taken in firing it properly - held the promise of stopping them long enough for her to escape or call for back-up. Joe had assured her it wouldn't be necessary with Methos, but after looking over Watcher files scattered over five thousand years, Amy felt a bit better with a weapon.
He squinted at the cloudy sky above them. "Considering it was Joe who entered all that information, yes, it's probably all true. You'll have to be more specific if you want details."
"You seem awfully calm about this."
A little chuckle. "Do I? I suppose three thousand years of getting used to something will do that."
"Do you regret it?" Amy challenged.
"What do you think?" He turned to meet her eyes, holding them with a defiant expression until she turned away to look at her notes. "Of course I do. I won't let it eat my life away, but I do regret what I did in those days, yes."
"The file states that when Kronos found you again, you left with him and helped him find the other two Horsemen, and assisted with plans for world domination." This sounds like the script for a bad James Bond movie, Amy thought.
"That's true."
"Why?"
"Because I don't have a death wish."
Amy was beginning to learn that the calm voice she'd so envied back when she'd thought of the man in front ofher as Benjamin Adams could be damned annoying, now that she knew his real past. "So you were willing to help this man kill possibly thousands of people, to protect your own neck." Amy snorted. "How noble of you."
"I survive. It's what I do."
"At no cost to you, and every cost to everyone else."
"No cost?" Methos laughed bitterly. "Little girl, you have no idea what you're talking about."
Amy gritted her teeth and refused to look up from her notes. "Then tell me, if you're so certain there's more to it than that."
They both fell silent for a moment to let a group of morning joggers pass the bench, and then Methos leaned in, speaking quietly and almost against her ear. "Would you be so willing to give up life, if you had five thousand years of memories, and no limit to the time you might have in the future if you didn't waste it? Would you be so quick to surrender if doing so meant giving more power to a crazed psychopath with an obsession with destruction? You know the power dynamics of immortals - do you want to lay odds on how long the world would have lasted if Kronos had the power of a five thousand year-old immortal in his veins? I think even you would see selfishness as a virtue in that situation."
"Convenient, for you." Amy massaged her temples, grateful for a moment for how cold her fingers had grown.
"Yes, but also pragmatic. Would you want Kronos to be The One?"
"Would I want you to be?"
Methos laughed. "I wouldn't worry about that. I have no desire to be an active player in the Game. You should trade with Joe, if you want to watch that."
"You're the oldest living immortal, how could you not be a contender?"
He shrugged. "I just want to live. If that means killing the others, perhaps I will be. I'm not going to risk my life actively trying to accomplish it, though - luck will never hold forever for those who seek out fights."
"MacLeod doesn't hunt. Sounds like you two have the same philosophy."
"MacLeod try to avoid other immortals, or run from fights. I do."
"So you're a pacifist, now?" Amy rolled her eyes and took another sip of tea. This guy really was too much.
"Hardly." Methos smirked. "I kill when necessary - you saw that. The reason Walker was so determined to get me was that I'd avoided him for about two hundred years since his initial challenge." A passing woman glanced their way, apparently having caught at least part of his last sentence. He offered her a bright, bland smile, and turned back to Amy. "Perhaps we should take this conversation back to my flat? Or yours, if you're afraid to be caught alone in my territory."
Just a hint of a tease hung on that last sentence, willing Amy to rise to the challenge. She weighed everything he'd told her. Joe trusted him - was that enough? He was right that they couldn't very well continue as they'd been doing, now that the lunch hour for many of the surrounding office buildings was bringing hordes of people outside. She felt confident enough to take the bait. "Your place is closer."
He stood and held out a hand to carry her satchel for her. "Thank you."
"For what?"
He smiled. "For trusting me."
"I wouldn't go that far," Amy grumbled, shifting her purse on her shoulder as they headed out of the park.
~ * ~
(To be continued.)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-04-24 01:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-24 02:25 am (UTC)Keeping canon and fan stuff straight in this fandom can definitely be interesting - I missed the first two seasons and most of the third, so I end up asking a lot of inane questions of people, trying to get details straight.
no subject
Date: 2005-04-24 04:14 am (UTC)How do you link to your journal entry like that? I haven't figured that one out yet. :/
no subject
Date: 2005-04-24 06:03 am (UTC)It's pretty easy - just copy the URL from your address bar, and then insert it into the tag like this, except using < and > instead of [ and ]:
[a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/rivendellrose/192142.html"]Whatever yout want the title to be[/a]
Sorry about the confusion with the pointy brackets and not pointy brackets - if I do the code with the pointy ones it won't show anything except the link!
no subject
Date: 2005-04-24 04:26 am (UTC)You must have been able to get quite a bit of your work done if you were able to do the chapter and get it posted. Yay!
no subject
Date: 2005-04-24 06:05 am (UTC)Heh... not really. I've been writing the chapter for last last few weeks, and today I just cut a part I decided should be the beginning of the next chapter, cleaned this up a bit, and posted. I've gotten a fair bit of work done... but not enough to really give myself time for fun writing, sadly.