wallflower, enlighten, wizard, Machiavellian, garden
 

*******

The sound of jazz wafted out of Joe's, a siren song to Mac as he approached.  As he sat down at the bar, he looked around, looking for both the owner, and the pain in the ass that had been living with him for over a week.

"Hey Joe."

"Mac.  Good to see you."

Duncan smiled at the honest tone of his friend's voice.  "Have you seen Adam today?"

Joey nodded to the other side of the bar.  "Been there for a couple of hours.  Doing a fine imitation of a wallflower."  Studying first one friend, then the other, "Is something up, MacLoed?  He's been acting funny the whole time."

Duncan snorted.  "Enlighten me with what is 'funny' for the old man."

"You know. . . not acting normal.  All quiet and such.  Barely acknowledged his beer being put before him."

Waving the idea away, "He's just irritated with me."

"What'd you do this time, Mac?"

"Me?  What do you mean me?  He's the one with a Machiavellian mind, not me."  This time Joe snorted.  "You know it's true, Joe."  The mortal simply shrugged.

Sighing, Mac leaned forward into the bar.  "Okay, so maybe I said something I shouldn't have.  But still, he's got thick skin.  I'm surprised it even bothered him."

"What did you say, Mac?"  The accusation clear in his voice.

"Maybe I said he was devious," looking to see what Joe did.  When the mortal simply nodded, his facial expression unchanging.  "And that maybe he was plotting something."  That got a raised brow, "That he was up to his old tricks."

"And I'm assuming he didn't think you meant tricks like a wizard or something?"

"Uh, no.  He took it to mean that he believes me to think of him as evil."

"Which is how you think of him, isn't it Mac?"

"No!"

"Then why do you always throw the Horsemen up into his face?"

"I wasn't."  Again, Joe snorted.  "Well, not really."   Snort.  "Damnit Joe.  You don't know what It's like living with the relic.  It's no walk in the garden."

"Park."

"What?"

"Walk in the *park*."

Mac waved him off.  "I'm just saying, it's not easy."

"Ever occur to you, Mac, that you're no gem either?"

"Yeah, I know.  I over stepped the bounds."

"Again."

Nodding, MacLoed looked over to where Methos was sitting.  The other immortal knew he was there, but showed no sign of recognition, lost in his thoughts.  "I'll talk to you later, Joe."

Making his way to the other side of the bar, he sat next to his friend.

"MacLoed."  Methos' voice was lacking in emotion or intonation.

"I'm sorry, Methos.  What I said this morning was un-called for, and you didn't deserve it."

"You're right Mac."

"That's it?"

"What do you want from me, MacLoed?"
 

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