Recovery 4/5

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Recovery
by T.L. Odell
Part 4/5
Disclaimers, etc. in Part 0

***

Methos finished cleaning up after dinner.  Their conversation
over the chess game had opened some of Duncan's old wounds, but
now maybe they could heal cleanly.  The Highlander was
definitely agitated, pacing back and forth across the living
room.  Methos worried that Duncan would be facing another
sleepless night, that without the overwhelming exhaustion of the
previous night, he'd revert to being consumed by anxiety once
again.

"Why don't we go downstairs and work out a little?"

"You hate working out."

"Doesn't mean I don't do it.  Nothing strenuous, just a few
katas, something simple."

Duncan's expression didn't change, but he took off his shoes and
started for the elevator.

"Let's try the stairs.  Be a good warm-up."

They walked down, and Methos was glad to see that Duncan showed
no unsteadiness.  After half an hour of exercise, Duncan was
bathed in sweat, but his color was good.  He was even smiling a
little.

"Well, I'm glad we did this.  I noticed that you walked down the
stairs with me, but I didn't see you get off the bench."

"Well, it doesn't take two people for most of those routines,
does it?  Let's call it a night.  You go get cleaned up, and
I'll fix some hot chocolate."

Methos got out the milk, sugar and cocoa.  He had been checking
the weather reports all day.  The storm was a bad one, and many
of the mountain roads were washed out.  Getting to the island in
these conditions would be impossible.  He'd have to work on a
Plan B.  Meanwhile, Duncan still needed to sleep.  He went to
his bag and removed the bottle of codeine he had brought.  He
dissolved a dose into one of the mugs, and added a bit of brandy
to both.  The alcohol and the sweet cocoa should disguise any
hint of the drug.  He brought them over to the sleeping area,
setting Duncan's down on the bedside table.

"You weren't kidding about the hot chocolate, were you?  Or is
there beer in your mug?" said Duncan as he came out of his
bathroom, wearing a blue velour robe and towel drying his hair.

"What the heck; it's a stormy night, lots of lightning and
thunder.  That just cries out for hot chocolate."  He set a mug
down on the nightstand for Duncan and began sipping from his
own.

"Drink up."

Duncan raised an eyebrow, but picked up the hot drink and sipped
it.  "You're right.  It is good."

"A touch of brandy makes all the difference.  How's the Clancy?"

"I wish I could tell you.  I haven't been able to concentrate
long enough to get into it.  I'll probably read it again one
day."

Methos watched Duncan drink his chocolate, waiting for his
surreptitious addition to take effect.  He hated to do it, but
uninterrupted sleep, even drug induced sleep, was what Duncan
needed more than anything.  He didn't really feel guilty about
his underhandedness; he knew he was doing the right thing.  He
just hoped Duncan would forgive him.

Duncan's speech was beginning to slur, and he looked at Methos
with glazing eyes.  "You bastard," he swore.  "What did you put
in this?"

"It's for your own good.  I'll be out on the couch."  He helped
the semi-conscious man settle under the comforter and waited
until he heard the slow rhythmic breathing that showed Duncan
was asleep.  "Sleep well, friend," he whispered.

***

By morning, the storm had played itself out, but in true
Seacouver fashion, there was still a constant drizzle filtering
down from a dull gray sky.  Methos heard stirrings from the bed
followed by the sound of water running in the bathroom.  He
didn't think there would be any adverse side effects from last
night's sleeping potion.  It had probably worn off after about
six hours, and Duncan would have been sleeping the rest of the
night on his own.  The question was, would the Highlander still
be angry?

Armed with a cup of coffee, Methos approached Duncan's bed.
"Truce?" he said, putting on his best sad puppy expression.

"Truce," repeated his friend.  "As long as that coffee's for me,
and there's nothing in it but coffee."

Methos nodded and set the steaming mug down.  "You look pretty
good.  Slept well, I take it.  How's the hand?"

"Much better.  Barely pink."

"See what happens when you listen to your elders.  We're always
right, you know.  What do you want for breakfast?"

"How about some oatmeal?"

"Ach, you Scots and your parritch!  I'll see what I can do."

"It's in the cabinet next to the stove."

"Why don't you come out and give me pointers, then.  I never
spent much time in the Highlands."

Duncan gave directions, Methos simmered and stirred, and the
oatmeal was pronounced 'passing fair.'

"I'm going to meditate for a while, if that's all right," said
Duncan after helping Methos clean up.

"Fine.  I'll hold down the fort out here."

***

Duncan had just finished his meditation when he heard the
doorbell.  He automatically reached for his sword, his heart
rate accelerating.

"Relax, Mac," he heard Methos call out.  "Nobody special."

"Hi Adam.  What do you mean, 'Nobody special?'"

"Just a little joke.  A bad little joke.  Come on in."

Hearing Anne's voice, Duncan got up, straightened his shirt and
ran a comb through his hair.  He walked out to the living area
and was delighted when he saw not only Anne, but Mary as well,
peering out from behind her mother.  Mary's hair had grown since
the last time he'd seen her; she had it pulled back into a
ponytail, with deep bangs in front that intensified her
sparkling big blue eyes.  "Uncle Duncle," she shrieked as she
raced over and hugged him around the knees.

"Whoa, Mary Berry!  How about we get that wet raincoat off you
first?"  He looked up at Anne, who came over to assist her
daughter.  She had already taken off her own coat and deposited
an oversized umbrella in the corner.  She was wearing blue
slacks and a cream colored sweater and looked, as always,
perfectly put together.  Her short brown hair tucked behind her
ears revealed the pearl stud earrings she wore; he was sure they
were the ones he had given her for her birthday years ago.  When
he turned back to look at Mary, he saw that the youngster was
wearing, of all things, a white *gi* belted in yellow.  She
released his knees and looked up at him.

"How are you feeling?  Mommy said you came to our house while I
was at Gram's, but you were sick.  I'll bet Mommy took good care
of you.  She's a real good doctor. I was sick once and went
urpity all over the floor.  Did you go urpity, too?"

Choking back a laugh, Duncan crouched down to Mary's eye level.
"Yes, I did," he said, tweaking her on the nose.  "And your mom
did take super good care of me.  I'm almost all better now."

Mary leaned over to whisper in Duncan's ear.  "Who's that man?
He has a big nose and he talks funny."

Duncan stood up, lifting Mary in his arms.  "Mary, I'd like you
to meet my very special friend Adam Pierson.  Adam, this is
Mary."

"How do you do, Mary," said Methos seriously.  "I am very
pleased to make your acquaintance."

Mary giggled and hid her head in Duncan's neck.

"Actually," Methos continued, "I met you once, but you weren't
even two years old, so you probably don't remember me."

"I'm six now.  That takes one whole hand plus one more finger,"
she said, holding up the requisite number of digits.

"That's a lot older than two," answered Methos.

"Can we give Uncle Duncan our presents now, Mommy?"

Duncan looked inquisitively at Anne.  She merely grinned and
shook her head.

"OK, kiddo."  Anne reached into a large tote and pulled out a
small gift bag.  "Here.  This one's from me."
Duncan set Mary down and took the shiny green bag.  Removing the
yellow tissue, he found a box about four inches square.  Inside
the box, under yet more tissue, was a pink ceramic "M" with a
magnet on the back.

"That's 'M'  for Mary," explained the girl.

"That it is."

"You put it on the fridge."

"Oh, that's right.  I guess I forgot."

"Now mine, Mommy."

Anne handed Mary a large envelope, brightly colored and covered
with glitter and stickers.  On the front it said, 'Uncle Duncan'
in Mary's careful printing, with only one of the c's backwards.
Mary took the envelope and presented it to Duncan, a solemn
expression on her face.

"This is for you.  I made them."

Duncan opened the proffered envelope, and removed two drawings.
The first was of a rather large white animal of some sort.
Seeing that it was covered in black spots, Duncan correctly
identified it as the large stuffed Dalmatian he had left for
Mary.  'Thank You' was written across the top.

"That's because you gave me Big Spot."

The second drawing showed two houses joined by a colorful
rainbow.  A tall man with dark hair was standing in front of one
house, and a man, woman, small girl and a large spotted dog in
front of the other.  "That's you," explained Mary, pointing to
the man standing alone.  "And that's Mommy, me, and Jared.  And
Big Spot.  We're going to a new house in Indian Apples, but we
won't forget you.  Every time it rains, the rainbow will connect
our houses."

Duncan felt his eyes misting, and quickly wiped them.  "Let's
put it on the refrigerator right now," he whispered as he took
Mary's hand and led her to the kitchen.  *Kids.  They'd get you
every time.*

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