Anyway, I had been more or less in "on the lam" mode for a few months before returning. I had had some truly freaky dreams, and some very unusual waking moments as well, but nothing I couldn't deal with alone. It was easier being by myself and trying to make sense of it, than putting up with the tension that had developed between Methos and me. It took him forever to tell me just what had happened when I took Akkasur's head. I had been out for over an hour--that was one thing. And it had changed everything--that was another.
We argued. He patronized me--which was worse than when we argued. I acted like a total b**** at times. And he acted, you know, typical. I needed some time away.
So, you know how it is with me. I was back in Seacouver for two days before Duncan showed up at my door, concerned. Asking questions. Giving my those eyes--he has this expression, all right? Like, a combo of tender, and concerned, and terribly sweet? Oh, and thoughtful? And, uh...you know. It bothered the hell out of me. The only thing I ever really need is an offer of a nice, broad shoulder...
Of a completely unattainable man. Heavy sigh.
*****
"I hope you realize you had everyone worried."
"Uh, well, I didn't. But it is nice to know," I told him, trying hard not to let my eyes meet his. This was a failure from the outset. He put his hands on my shoulders.
"You even had him worried."
"I left him a note."
"He wants to know who you think you are."
That got me a little hot. "Well, just who does he think he is?" I demanded. "He doesn't tell me where to go or when! I needed time to think, and I told him that in the letter. It wasn't, like, this sudden, unexpected thing."
Duncan looked at me strangely. "Uh, no. He wanted to know who you thought you were. Apparently..."
Oh. Yeah. Like I said, I was having an identity crisis. The dreams. The little odd moments I was having. The strange coincidences, the accidents, the whole experience. I was losing my grip on being Genevieve. But I wasn't all that keen on letting that bit of information get around.
"Duncan, we're friends...right?" I grinned, silently adding to myself, *despite having shot at you, threatened to kill you, and smacked you around a little*. "I'd rather we not go there. I know who I am."
Yep. Quite possibly an incarnation of a woman who had been dead four thousand years. But really, no biggie.
Posted on Apr 13, 2000, 8:15 PM from IP address 152.172.188.180