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Asher watched the world fly by outside the windows. Her history professor was prattling on about the causes of World War I. She sighed remembering her own involvement as a nurse in France. Her desk partner elbowed her in the arm and she jumped, straightening up. Mrs. Berkley was looking expectantly in her direction. "Ma'am?"
"Well, Asa, now that we have your attention, would you be so kind as to answer the question?" The professor looked irate.
"What was the question?"
"What was the real cause of World War I?"
Wouldn't you really like to know? She thought. Out loud, she said "The assassination of the Archduke Ferdinand."
Mrs. Berkley nodded curtly and turned back to the class. Asher suddenly felt nauseous and took a deep breath. She looked out of the window in search of the Immortal that was causing the headache. Three floors below the people rushed by on the sidewalk. A dark figure stood by unmoving among them, looking up at her window.
The bell rang, shaking her out of her reverie. She quickly shoved her stuff in her backpack and left the room. Asher flowed down the hall with the crowd of students, eventually stopping at her locker. She threw her books in the locker and headed up to The Studio.
The Studio was one of the main reasons Asher had enrolled in The New York School for Gifted Students to study art. It had been a long time since she had been a student and NYSGS had an excellent fine and applied arts department. The Studio was a large round pavilion built on the roof of the school. Skylights and windows covered much of the walls and ceiling, giving light to the art students.
Inside was everything the art student could want. Painting, sculpture and ceramics, glasswork, drawing and other mediums each had its own area. Already there were several students working and they waved to her as she set up her own work. Each department at NYSGS was small, accepting approximately only 20 students, so the students didn't have to compete for space and attention.
Ms. Kitterage looked over Asher's shoulder. "Wonderful work as always, Asa. You don't ever seem to need my tutoring."
"I've been painting for a long time, Ms. Kitterage." Asher told her, smiling to herself at the joke. She'd studied painting with some of the masters during the Italian Renaissance.
Alex Adams watched the teenagers file out of the school. He had felt the buzz earlier and felt drawn back to the school. A large group of students rushed past him and it got stronger. Whoever was the source of it was old but he couldn't pinpoint it on any one person. Sighing, he quietly disappeared into the crowd and slipped away.
Asher felt the buzz again as she left the school. Looking around she didn't see anyone watching her and took the opportunity to head away from the buzz and go home. She waved to her friends and started the twelve-block walk to her flat.
She occupied the top floor of an old warehouse she had turned into apartments a couple decades before. She had designed most of the apartments as studios but she had hired a contractor to build walls for two bedrooms each with its own bathroom, a studio, and a large kitchen/dining room/living area. She slid the heavy metal door open and dropped her things on the kitchen counter. She wandered to the window and stood watching the mortal lives pass below.
A few days passed without any signs of the other Immortal. Asher went to classes as usual but she was distracted. At lunch, Asher left school and went to a nearby park. She sat on a bench, nibbling on her lunch. A strong, familiar buzz hit her and she looked up looking for the nearby Immortal. She scanned the area, her eyes coming to rest on the dark figure standing by a tree across the clearing. She stood up and walked toward him. As she got closer she could see his dark hair was still short, his face classically angular as she remembered. Now there were several silver hoops glittering in both ears. The tight black leather pants showed off muscular legs and an indigo silk shirt showed under the long black leather trench coat. Familiar green-gold eyes echoed the sardonic smile that graced his lips as he watched her come closer.
Her blue-black hair, once curly, was streaked with bright purple and perfectly straight. Her left eyebrow was pierced and she also had a line of sliver in her ear. Her hair hung down to mid-calf with sidepieces braided and pulled back with an ornate silver clip. Her face was dusted with glitter and the tiny sparkles hit the light as she moved. She wore a black leather bikini top under a black transparent long sleeved shirt and shiny black vinyl pants. Black combat boots rose to her knee and a black leather trench coat flapped about her legs as she walked.
"Did you hear about MacLeod?" He asked as she approached.
She nodded. "We're the only one's left, aren't we?"
He took her hand and smiled. Both of them had their nails painted black. "Yeah. I took Marcus' head for MacLeod."
She suddenly seemed much smaller and younger, more like the girl he had found all those years ago. "Are you here to kill me?" She pulled her hand from his.
"I don't know." He told her honestly and pulled her to him. His lips captured hers, awakening old feelings between them.
Asher broke the kiss and buried her head in his chest. "After Mac, Joe said he knew you'd be the one." She whispered.
"Don't." He raised her head and met her eyes. "I love you, Asher du Lac. Nothing will change that." He hugged her tightly for a moment before letting her go. Putting an arm around her shoulders, he led her away from the park.
The couple ended up at a little caf� on Bleeker Street, drinking coffee and reminiscing.
"What are you going by now?" Methos asked.
"Asa du Lac. You?" She tilted her head to the side.
"Alex Adams."
She nodded. "Do you remember that fiasco when Mac tried to get the de Valicourts back together?" Asher sipped at the strong coffee and smiled.
Methos nodded. "How could I forget? I nearly lost my head. Hell hath no fury and all that."
After a long silence, Asher sighed. "So did you come looking for me or is this all some grand coincidence?"
"I honestly didn't know you'd be in New York." He said watching her as she watched the people rush by outside.
"How have we stayed hidden from them all these years?" She asked thoughtfully.
"Sometimes I wonder the same thing."
"And?"
He shrugged. "I don't know." Abruptly he changed the subject. "Are you busy tonight?"
"No, why?"
"Let's go out."
Methos rang the bell at Asher's front door. He could hear her moving around inside before the door slid open. She was wearing a dark blue silk robe belted tightly around her waist and showed evidence of being pulled from the shower. She looked at him in surprise.
"Did we say seven?" She asked. She grinned sheepishly. "I thought it was eight."
"That's alright. I'll just hang around until you're ready." He handed her the bouquet of white roses.
She smiled, inhaling the sweet scent of the flowers and stepped back to let him into the flat. "You look nice." She said indicating the elegantly cut tuxedo under his leather trench coat. "I won't be much longer."
"Don't worry about it pixie." He kissed the tip of her nose. Then he tossed his coat on a chair and sprawled onto the couch despite his evening clothes.
She went to the kitchen and put the roses in a vase before heading back to the bathroom to finish her shower.
A half-hour later, Asher immerged from the bedroom. Methos looked up as she came in and felt his heart go still.
Her gown was royal purple velvet. Shawl-like sleeves sat off her shoulders and the dress accented her slender figure. As she walked toward him, a side slit showed off glimpses of her leg. Her hair was braided in a complex plait that was twisted around her head like a crown. She looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her. He rose and went to her.
"You look, amazing. Beautiful." He told her.
She blushed and looked down. "Thanks."
He cupped her face and leaned down to her, their mouths almost touching. "You do." He said and kissed her.
They went out to dinner at one of the old dinner clubs and spent the evening dancing. When they returned to her flat it was late into the early morning.
Methos stood in the doorway, watching as she slipped off her high heels. She pulled some pins from her hair and the braid tumbled down her back. He smiled and stepped into the flat, letting the door close behind him.
"Do you want anything?" She called from inside the fridge.
"Beer, if you have it." He took off his tux jacket and tie.
"Of course." She stood up, closing the door with her hip. She handed him one of the bottles and sat down on the couch next to him.
"I really have missed you these past years." He told her, laying his arm around her shoulders.
"Will you stay?" she asked quietly.
He nodded. "For tonight." Setting his beer down, he leaned over and kissed her.
Asher drifted slowly awake, aware of the warm, solid body next to her. She opened her eyes and in the soft early morning light she could see Methos was still sleeping. One arm was thrown over her stomach possessively. She turned onto her back and his arm tightened around her.
"I'm not going anywhere." She whispered to him.
He muttered something incoherent and tucked his head into her shoulder. She giggled softly and scratched lightly at the nape of his neck. He said something against her neck.
"What was that?" She asked voice laughing.
He lifted his head and glared at her. "Are you trying to wake me?" He growled.
"Maybe." She giggled.
"I wouldn't if I were you." He threatened.
She scooted away from him. "What are you going to do about it?"
He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him. His hands danced up her sides, resting just under her ribs. She squealed and tried to pull away.
"No! Don't tickle me! Don't!" She exclaimed as he tickled her unmercilessly. "Stop, stop! Okay, I give. I'm sorry."
He stopped, his hands splayed over her ribs. "Are you?"
She nodded, catching her breath. Smiling, he kissed the curve of her shoulder and buried his hand in her hair.
"I love your hair." He whispered in her ear. She giggled. "Remember when you and Amanda were singing in that cabaret in Germany before the war?"
"Yeah?"
"You cut your hair."
"I know. Amanda's hair was short so we thought the act would look better if I cut my hair too. Plus Berlin wasn't a very nice place. It was easier to keep short hair clean."
"When I saw you, I was going to kill you." He told her simply.
Her eyes widened in surprise. "You were?"
He nodded. "I couldn't believe you would ever cut your hair. It was the first time I'd ever seen you with short hair."
"It was kinda nice not having the weight on my head when I was fighting but I couldn't do anything with it."
"I like you better with long hair. And curls." He added. "What did you do to it?"
"It fits my image right now."
"It does." He trailed a line of kisses down her collarbone. "Do you have school today?"
She nodded. "I should go. I skipped yesterday." She murmured absently. His mouth was moving it be way up her neck.
"Are you going?" His breath was warm against her ear.
"No."
"Good."
They spent the afternoon simply wandering about the city. They ended up at the park where they started. Asher stopped in a secluded grove and looked up at the sky. After a minute, she turned to him, her eyes wet with tears.
"Methos, will you bury me in Paris, so you don't forget me?" She removed the eternal life bracelet her father had given her on her seventeenth birthday, before her life had changed forever, and pressed it onto his wrist.
"Ash, pixie," He began but she stopped him, pressing her fingers to his mouth.
"I won't fight you." She pulled her sword out of her coat and let it drop to the ground.
"I know, love." Quicker than human, he grabbed her wrist, pulled out a gun and shot her all in one motion. Asher's eyes went wide in shock. He dropped the weapon and gathered her in his arms. Eyes wet with unshed tears, he apologized "I'm so sorry, Ash." He leaned down and kissed her softly.
Asher reached up and touched his face. "Be good. Remember us. All of us." He captured her hand and held it to his cheek.
"I'll miss you, Asher." He told her, tears escaping.
"Don't, cry." She said haltingly. "Love you, Methos." She breathed out his name and went still in his arms.
He set her body on the ground and knelt beside her with his sword. For a moment he considered forgetting about the Game. He could let her revive; they could spend eternity together. A voice deep inside him reminded him of the first rule of the Game and he nodded to himself. "There can be only one." He whispered as an apology and brought his sword down, severing her head. He stayed that way, leaning over her body, as the first bolts of her Quickening hit him and after, mourning a lover and friend late into the night.
1 Month Later
Methos knelt by the cold marble grave. "I did what you asked, pixie. Alexa's nearby. Richie and Amanda are close too." He placed a bouquet of white roses at the base of the stone. "I was thinking about buying a place for myself here. I guess I'm going to need one eventually." He barked a short harsh laugh. "Wish the Prize came with an owner's manual. I don't know what to expect." He changed subjects abruptly. "I don't heal anymore. I cut myself on some glass the other day and it wouldn't stop bleeding." He rubbed the bandage on his hand absently. "I'm going to Santorini for a while, to see the sunsets. Remember Alexa. Then I'm coming back here. Maybe Paris isn't so bad after all." He sighed and touched a kiss to the stone. "I'm being good, Ash. I love you." He got to his feet, gave one last look at the stone and walked away.
Last Night of the World
Music by Claude-Michel Schonberg, Lyrics by Alain Boublil and Richard Maltby, Jr.
On the other side of the Earth,
There's a place where life still has worth
I will take you
I'll go with you
You won't belive all the things you'll see
I know 'cause you'll see them all with me
If we're together that's when
We'll hear it again
A song played on a solo saxophone
A crazy sound, a loney sound
A cry that tells us love goes on and on
Played on a solo saxophone
It's telling me to hold you tight
And dance
Like it's the last night of the world
Dream were all I ever knew
Dreams you won't need when I'm through
Anywhere we may be
I will sing with you
Our song
So stay with me
And hold me tight
And dance
Like its the last night of the world