The midi you can hopefully be listening to right now is The Emperor Waltz, composed by Johann Strauss. Downloadable HERE.

The characters of Adam Pierson/Methos, Alexa Bond, Don Salzer, Joe Dawson, and Duncan MacLeod are the creation and property of Panzer/Davis of Highlander fame. No copyright infringement is intended or implied. This story takes place between the Highlander Television Series' Episodes of "Deliverance" and "Methuselah's Gift", otherwise known as mid-March 1996.

Thank you to all my beta readers: Kim, Mary, Jenny, Tansy, Harlene, Miss T., and my mother as always . . .

One More Dance
By Rain
June 30, 2000
Revised through August 17, 2000

Methos ran and ran, faster and faster through the narrow streets of Old Geneva, south of the river. Feet pounding to try and make his head hold still for even one tiny moment. But it only cleared his brain of all thoughts except the one fact he had to forget before he lost his mind and fell completely apart inside. Alexa was dying. She'd been dying when he met her just over four months ago in Seacouver, and she was dying now in their rented rooms here in Switzerland.

Methos had driven Alexa across the entire North American continent in a VW bus, sleeping under the stars in each other's arms. He held her through her nightmares and moments of silent weeping. Methos tried to shed no tears in front of Alexa. He was her rock and her guide through her whirlwind of living the most of what time they had left together.

They flew out of Boston to England in January. He took her to Big Ben and Stonehenge before stopping off in Paris to show her his apartment there. She spent a month marveling in Greece before traveling here to Geneva one week ago. So much he had been able to show Alexa, but so much more she would never see. She had less than a year.

Methos ran harder and harder still, pounding the damp curling ribbons of cobblestone. Miles and miles he'd covered this morning, the sky gray and threatening to let loose with its cold rain along the Rhône River, past the old University, and Cathédrale Saint-Pierre. But now he was back in the neighborhood of their rooming house. He tried to slow his gait and cool down a bit before returning.

Alexa had been asleep when he'd left for his run. Methos had dressed quickly and quietly in a tee shirt and sweatpants, then simply stared at his love for a few minutes. Her fast and shallow breathing made him nervous, but that was how it had always been. The sheets and pillows swallowed her. She seemed so delicate lying there with her little fingers curled near her cheek. Methos had bent to kiss her forehead and then snuck out the door.

Now he came inside again calling for her. "Alexa. Lex?"

He could hear her in the main room. He stepped farther in until he could see her as well. She was dressed in the short flowered dress he had bought for her on the Mediterranean-Santorini--with the incomparably beautiful sunsets. She was playing with some dials on the meager stereo. Methos saw a letter addressed to Joe Dawson on the table. Joe had tried to stop this, discouraging him from embarking on this adventure. Protecting him from the unavoidable pain as Alexa had also tried to do in the beginning. But all the pain in the world was worth it to see the smile in Alexa's eyes when he held her close.

Alexa turned to see him and met him halfway across the hardwood floor. "Adam, there you are," she said, reaching her arms out to him. To her, Methos was still Adam Pierson, his mortal alias. He hadn't told her who he really was. Why should he, and torture her more? She already knew he would probably live at least 50 years more, why bother her with the possibility of hundreds of years more without her? He can live forever but she can't. It wouldn't be fair. She didn't even know what he really did for his job. Sure, he'd taken her inside the Shakespeare And Company Bookstore while in Paris. That he worked there wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. The bookstore was closed now with his mentor, Don Salzer, dead and Adam Pierson off world traveling. Joe had known Alexa practically all her twenty-seven years, and he had not told her he was a "Watcher", part of a secret society of men and women who were sworn to observe and record the lives of Immortals, but never interfere. They knew the truth about Immortals. But Joe Dawson was the only Watcher who knew more closely the whole truth. Methos was both a Watcher and an Immortal. Why should "Adam" tell her now? Alexa had plenty enough to deal with already.

Methos wrapped his arms around her and tried very hard to resist pulling her into the shower with him. He managed to yank his sweaty shirt off while covering Alexa's face and neck with his salty lips. She let herself be lifted off the floor by him. She was petite and even lighter now than when he had first carried her to bed. Alexa turned her head and coughed, and then apologized. Methos set her back on her feet.

"Have you had breakfast?" he asked, smiling lightly. "Give me five minutes to get clean, and I'll cook you something."

"No, thank you. I'm not really very hungry." Alexa's features held barely any expression at all for a moment, but before Methos could express concern, her face once again beamed, and she scampered back to the stereo. Soft old-fashioned music filled the room. "Dance with me?" Alexa called to him. "Let's see if I can still remember."

Methos remembered the waltz. The ancient VW bus had come with a collection of cassettes, and one night after dinner he had put in The Best of Johann Strauss. On the side of the road he had taught Alexa the swift turns and twirls of the composer's "Emperor Waltz". She'd picked it up instantly.

Now, Methos kicked off his running shoes so that he would not hurt Alexa's bare toes by accident. He took her by the waist and palm and began to lead her in a sweeping dance. He closed his eyes, remembering the time he himself had been taught to dance like this, in 1816, here in Switzerland no less, so many lifetimes ago. So many lives he'd lived and people who had tried to touch him in his more than 5000 years. None had succeeded so far, and deep, and fast as darling Alexa Bond, except perhaps fellow Immortal, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. The two were both completely virtuous and honorable, noble and well meaning at every turn. Both so young compared to Methos. They gave him more and more reasons to go on, renewing his once lost delight, being involved in their lives. And, gods, was he alive around Alexa. She was his angel, and he never wanted her to leave him. He had loved before, but Alexa could prove the briefest yet the brightest star in all his nights of dark existence.

Although ten minutes long the waltz was almost over now, and Alexa whispered to him, "Thank you, Adam."

"You're welcome," he replied, still moving his feet to the faint buzz the stereo speakers emitted.

"But you don't know what I'm thankful for."

"Then tell me."

Alexa gripped him even closer to her. "Thank you for asking me out. Thank you for not letting me say no. And for bringing me to Europe. For dancing now. Thank you for loving me." She went on listing beautiful things with her beautiful voice, and Methos found himself wishing she would stop so he could just kiss her and kiss her. But he did not take her words or gratitude for granted. He was never impatient. Alexa only needed to make sure again that Adam knew how much he meant to her. And if she felt even a tenth of what he felt for HER, then he was the luckiest man in history. He didn't even WANT to take a shower anymore because Alexa wanted to dance, and what Alexa wanted, Alexa got. Everything but her life!

Alexa fell quiet, and she gasped. Methos clutched her when she suddenly slumped against him.

"Alexa, what's wrong? Alexa? No. No!" She had fainted. Methos lifted her up, so slender and frail against his bare chest. He ran outside carrying her, the street rough and frigid on the soles of his feet. Thick mist filled his nostrils. His eyes scanned left and right. Seeing no phone booths, he knocked loudly at the main door where he knew the landlord had a phone. No answer.

Methos took off running, Alexa in his arms. They were not far from the hospital. He had rented these particular rooms on purpose, only three blocks from the doctors' building. People were staring at him, hideously uninterested, but they moved to let him pass through the street. He must have looked a complete mess, but he did not care in the least as long as he got Alexa to the people who knew how to help. Medics took her from him as soon as he burst through the doors. A woman held him back when he tried to follow them. She kept asking him to fill out some papers, some forms. "Give us her name, Sir," she repeated in French, then English, and finally Italian.

Methos collapsed to the floor in a heap, ignoring the woman's voice. Finally, he did look up at her with tear-streaked face. But when he tried to answer, almost no sound escaped his throat.

"Not yet," he tried to cry. "She has to be okay this time. She has to see me again. She has to talk to me again. It's too soon. She can't leave me alone."

"Sir, sir. Please, I don't understand you," the woman was saying now, back to her native French. She acted as though Methos were an alien speaking Klingon. He started to wonder exactly what language he HAD been babbling in-Greek, Russian, Sumerian? The woman led him to a room filled with chairs. She put a robe across his shoulders as he started shaking uncontrollably. The woman gently attempted to reassure him. "Your wife is in good hands. She will be all right. Do not worry."

No, she won't, Methos knew, but he tried hard to believe nonetheless. He had to believe her if he was ever going to stop trembling, if he was going to help the doctors help Alexa. Methos drew in some deep breaths. He had to believe he would talk to Alexa again. He had to believe he would lead her in one more dance.

FIN

Notes: I referred to the timeline of dates and locations on the Watcher Chronicles CD-ROM rather than simply guessing from the order and timeframe the episodes were shown on TV. All I know about the city of Geneva I learned from the World Book Encyclopedia. I don't actually know how long Joe knew Alexa. The 1816 reference implies Methos learned to dance while he "partied" with Lord Byron, Percy Shelley and Mary (Shelley). And I know Alexa and Adam weren't married at this point but the nurse just assumed they were.

© 2000 Rain Pierson
first penned June 30, 2000
revised through August 2000


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