Someday by: Mira Westing

"I came to say good-bye." Methos stood in the doorway. She hadn't asked him in and he knew he no longer had the right to presume an invitation.

"Don't make promises you can't keep." He had said this good-bye three times already, no wonder she'd come to question his sincerity. "You left a couple of books." The apartment behind Scarlett was bare. Mac had been right, she wasn't wasting any time packing. "I was going to give them to Duncan but you might as well get them while you're here."

He followed her back to the bedroom counting boxes as he moved through the rooms. Four in the study, one in the kitchen, three in the bedroom. He hadn't realized, until that moment, that the bulk of 'their' possessions had in fact been his. Those things had been gone for months, evacuating the apartment only days after Methos' own departure.

"You don't have to leave Paris, Lettie."

"Yes, I do." He was the only reason she'd come, the soul persuasion for moving away from what she'd considered the only life left to her for years. "I need to get home. I haven't been back for so long...God, how long has it been?"

"Five years." Had it really only been five years? Five years since her adopted father had discovered what she was and thrown her off the farm once and for all. Five years since Methos had brought her to Paris and married her. Five years was a lot shorter than the forever he'd promised her. "Five good years."

She laughed. "Four and a half good years. Six really awful months." But he was mostly right. Any man who could make her come so close to forgetting her family had to be close to amazing. Methos had never pretended to be any more...or less. "Here are those books." Byron and Plutarch. "Would you like the stereo system?"

"That's your's"

"I don't have room to carry it home and I won't get nearly its value in resale." She sat down on the bed - their bed. The linens and the bed itself were the only remnants of their life together that had not already been packed. "I'd like you to have it."

"Thank you." It was all so polite. From the very beginning, his leaving her had been terribly polite. One fight and then, calm. At least on the surface. In the end, Methos knew that peace would elude them both for a long time to come. He was graduating a student, losing a friend, and leaving a lover all in one fail swoop. He didn't even know why. Not really.

"When does your flight leave?"

"Two days. I'm flying into Chicago and driving the rest of the way from there." She could go back now. The man she had called father was dead and his wife need Scarlett to help run 800 acres of Illinois far land.

Methos sat down beside his wife and took her hand. Her wedding band slid along his. "I wish you'd be angry at me. Yell, scream, anything."

"I'm not mad, Methos."

"I know." He rubbed her fingers through his again. Neither one of them would articulate how they were actually feeling. It would only make it harder. He couldn't tell her what she hadn't heard before but..."I still love you."

"Good." Burying her face in his shoulder, she continued, "I love you, too, but you're right: we have to be apart. I missed the last part of my father's life, I won't miss my mother's."

"It wasn't your fault-"

"Oh - I know. He sent me away. But she's asked me to come back. She needs me." And Methos didn't. It was true. He would survive without her. He just wouldn't like it.

Gently, he kissed her forehead. "Maybe you need her, too. It's hard to let go of mortality, Lettie. I made you do it too fast."

"No..." She squeezed his hand. "Let's not play this game. There's no blame here."

"I don't want you to go." He crushed her lips with his own. He might have abandoned her but he didn't ever let her go. He wouldn't. Maybe he couldn't. "Stay here."

The kisses were forceful, less passion than desperation. They both felt it. Scarlett broke away, smoothing her skirt, her hair. She always fidgeted when she was unsure of herself. "You have to leave now."

Methos nodded. She was right. Neither of them were any good for one another right now. "We're immortal, Scarlett, and the world keeps getting smaller."

"Yes?"

"Go home. You need this." Eventually she would have done it on her own, his leaving had just pushed her in the right direction. "We'll met again." She would come to understand what her meant. Time changed people, situation. The next time they met might be their time. Or perhaps not. Eventually, though, they would find a time and place to be together. Immortality afforded them that luxury.

*Someday* he whispered silently *someday will be our day.*