As always, Methos and all the other mentioned characters belong to Rysher and a bunch of other people all who have more money and better lawyers than I do. "Time in a Bottle" was written by Jim Croce. Paloma belongs to me I just haven't figured out what I'm going to do with her yet. Comments/complaints/etc. to me at "vickiann.adams@snet.net" And now on with the show . . . ----------------------------------------------------------------- Time in a Bottle by Vickiann Adams (vickiann.adams@snet.net) (c) June 1997 He sat watching as she passed quietly from life into death. Methos had known from the instant they'd met she was dying. He'd even taken the time to remind Joe that *all* mortals were dying; but somehow, Alexa's young age made death seem a lifetime away. This wasn't the first time in five thousand years he'd been wrong. When the last specialist parroted each preceding doctor's diagnosis, it was Methos who began to cry. Alexa had long since come to terms with her death sentence. Methos wasn't quite as accepting. He'd fallen in love with Alexa and was beginning to hate the fact he'd out live her. He was beginning to hate his immortality. He detested burying loved ones only to go on for centuries without them. Who'd ever said losing a loved one became easier with time had to have been more than five thousand years old because it still felt like a dagger through the heart to Methos. Methos kissed Alexa for the last time as her doctor came in to confirm and record the obvious. As he backed out of the room, the charge nurse touched his sleeve. "Adam. All the nurses, we want you to know how sorry we are. We'll miss Alexa." Methos looked at the genuine care in the nurse's eyes and almost chuckled. He wondered how many time she'd extended the same heartfelt condolences to people only to laugh about it later in the call room. Nurses, doctors and immortals were unmoved by death, they had to grow accustomed to it. But this time he wasn't an immortal or a doctor, he was a newlywed who'd just lost his young wife to a horrible disease. He tried to smile, "thank you, your words mean a great deal." Turning for the elevator, another nurse stopped him. "Adam, Alexa gave me this envelope and made me promise to give it to you after she ... I mean, when she ... well, when you know." The nurse produced an average sized mailing envelope and a smile. "Thank you." Accepting the package, he stepped onto the elevator. He didn't have time to think about the envelope right now. There were plans to be made, people to call. It would be an intimate memorial, Alexa had only a few friends and there were only two people Methos would call. Hours later -- after plans were set, flights were booked and friends were told -- Methos sat alone in the apartment he'd shared with Alexa for only a few days. Alone with the envelope she'd left for him. God, how much he missed her now that she was gone. He'd done it again. He'd let another mortal get close. Loved another mortal and this time it ended the same way. It always ended the same way. Two hundred years ago, her name had been Paloma and her death had been enough to take him out of the Game. Methos stopped, this wasn't the time to mourn for Paloma, she was long since dust. This was the time to mourn for Alexa, to mourn privately without her friends, or Joe's platitudes, or even Macleod's feigned sadness. Taking a long drink of his beer, he finally found the courage to admit why he missed her so. He'd never found the time to let Alexa know who he really was. To her he'd always been Adam Pierson, wealthy eccentric who enjoyed good jazz and good beer. He couldn't find the right words to tell someone who wouldn't live to see her thirtieth birthday that he'd already lived more than fifty lifetimes. It just didn't seem fair. On the way to grab another beer, Methos noticed the envelope on the floor. He picked up the envelope and another beer and returned to the sofa. Upon opening the envelope, he found a letter, a key, and an audio cassette. The case for the cassette said only ^play me^. Intrigued, Methos put the cassette into the stereo and pushed the play button. After a rather long lead in, the music started..... If I could save time in a bottle the first thing that I'd like to do Is to save every day 'till eternity passes away just to spend them with you If I could make days last forever If words could make wishes come true I'd save every day like a treasure and then Again I would spend them with you ..... Methos pushed stop on the tape player. He could barely see through the stream of tears. Alexa. He picked up the letter she'd packaged with the tape. Methos set the letter on the couch next to him and dried his tears. She knew, she knew who he really was. Joe told her so he wouldn't have to. Oh gods, did he miss her. Love her. He pushed play on the stereo and listened to the rest of the song.... But there never seems to be enough time To do the things you want to do once you find them I've looked around long enough to know That you're the one I want to go through time with If I had a box just for wishes And dreams that had never come true The box would be empty except For the memory of how they were answered by you But there never seems to be enough time To do the things you want to do once you find them I've looked around long enough to know That you're the one I want to go through time with As long as he lived, Alexa would live. She would be a part of him -- in his heart, in his mind, in his SOUL. The key. Looking at it, it appeared to be an average skeleton key. Until he remembered Alexa's trunk. Half kidding, she'd called it her hope chest when they left Seacouver. Running to the bedroom he'd shared with her only once, he knelt in front of the trunk. Putting the key into the lock, Methos opened the lid and found his present. Alexa had turned her trunk into her 'box just for wishes' just like in the song. She'd filled it with the memories of the short time they'd shared. Pictures of the places they'd gone. The moments they'd shared. Everything was in there, through her eyes. Places he'd been thousands of times suddenly seemed brand new. Amongst the pictures were letters she'd written to him but never delivered. He could only imagine the work that had gone into the trunk. This time Methos didn't hold back the tears. He sat on the floor of his bedroom and cried for his wife. For the life they didn't have. He felt the presence at the same time he heard the apartment door open and close. "Methos, I know you're here. It's Amanda. I just wanted to see how you were doing. I promised Alexa I'd check up on you." Amanda stepped into the bedroom doorway to find the other immortal crying on the floor. "She knew?", Methos asked sobbing. Putting her arm around his shaking shoulders, "She made me promise not to tell you. Joe told her the night before she married you. Methos, she loved you. She loved you for who you were -- all of who you were. Between what I knew and what I could read of your journal she knew you quite well. And funny enough she loved you anyway. Don't cry for her. She is happier now. She's not in pain." "Amanda, do you believe that, really?" "Honestly, I don't know, but she did. Besides, you're crying on my silk blouse and I hate paying dry-cleaning prices in Paris." With that, both immortals began to laugh. "Come on, sailor. Let me buy you a drink." Methos looked horrified for just a moment, "how much did you tell her about *US*?" With a grin, Amanda answered, "*Almost* all of it." If I could make days last forever If words could make wishes come true I'd save every day like a treasure and then Again I would spend them with you ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~