Title: When You're Gone.

Author: Erika ... who also goes by the name of evil child, cute kid, wacky and BetaR.

Feedback: funhapjoy@yahoo.com

Pairing: Highlander/Angel

Disc: Please don't sue me. It's not my fault honest. But just in case: Angel and its characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and Fox Production. Highlander and its characters belong to TPTB at Panzer/Davis and their associated companies.

Rating: Slash m/m

Summary: I think I have created a monster. Part three, it follows As I awaken from a dream.'

Beta-reader: Pollyanna my virtual mom who taps her foot looks over top of glasses - or at least she would if she had glasses - to give me heck. She is one of my three stooges and for that I absolutely adore her.

Music: Title of this chapter comes from Bryan Adams CD "On A Day Like This."

He had been here for the past three days and there was still no sign of Methos. He took out his cell phone and called Joe. Maybe the watcher had some news.

"What!" At the sound of that angry tone his muscles tensed. "Joe, it's MacLeod."

"Sorry Mac." He heard Joe sigh and then continue. "Have you ....?"

"No. I was hoping you would have heard something."

"The Watchers can't find him. Maybe it's for the best. After all he did say Hunters ..."

"I know Joe." A part of MacLeod replayed Methos' message. //Joe, I bumped into some Hunters. Four of them. Warn MacLeod. Look I have to go.//

They had traced the call to a pay phone near the bar where Adam Pierson had last been seen. Four bodies had been found near the area.

MacLeod was desperate. He needed to find Methos. They hadn't even been able to locate where Methos had been staying for the past three weeks. He needed to know that Methos was okay. Joe's next words brought him back to the present.

"Mac, do you think ...?"

He knew what his friend was going to ask and he wished he had the answer.

"I don't know Joe."

"Look, MacLeod, a friend of mine who lives near the area recommended this private investigation firm. They have done some work for us before on cases dealing with the paranormal."

"Paranormal?"

"Sometimes immortality gets labelled as paranormal. Look, here is the number." MacLeod wrote down the address and tried to control the dread that was rising within him. He barely heard Joe's next message. "Give them a call. Mac?"

"Yeah. I'll talk to you later, Joe."

MacLeod made his way to his car. Damn you, Methos! Where are you? Earlier Joe had faxed him the police report, describing in detail the brutal way the four men had been killed. Their throats had been slashed, necks broken. One of them had a collapsed lung, another had his arms severed, and then there was all that blood. Blood everywhere.

But what worried MacLeod was that the police had detected two other blood stains near the crime scene. Neither stain had matched the blood types of the four victims.

Methos had mentioned only four Hunters. The waitress at the bar had said Methos had come in alone and left unaccompanied. If so, who was the fifth person?

He looked down at the address Joe had given him. He hoped they would have better luck finding Methos.

Three hours later and he began to doubt that this PI firm would be of any help. The girl, Cordelia, had been shamelessly flirting with him from the moment he entered the office. When he had asked to speak with the investigator, she had cheerfully informed him he had been on assignment for the past two days and he was due back anytime.

He had waited for two hours hoping to get a chance to meet the guy but it was turning out to be a fruitless endeavour.

Mac left the agency feeling even more frustrated.

Where are you? Don't disappear on me, old man. Please come back. MacLeod hoped his thoughts would somehow reach Methos. For the first time he was glad of the connection he shared with the old man and only wished it was stronger. But in the past, the connection had only seemed to help him in identifying Methos' signature.

Please, thought MacLeod, I can't lose you now. Not now, when I just discovered what I feel for you.

=30=