Well, Amy has coaxed me out once more, she does seem to have a talent to doing that. Better than anyone else I've known. She also coaxed my concerns out of me which... I must say, still lie with me. I'll have to see this man for myself, but if he truly is my old Mentor, then there will be trouble. As for my rather recent hiding away, I'll leave it to Amy to explain it to Methos. I'm sure she'll find a way to articulate it better. After all, he's learning quickly not to argue with her.
The sound of small fists banging on the wooden door was sharp and loud followed by hissing. "Marcus Constantine if you don't open this door in the next thirty seconds we will be testing immortal regenerative powers."
There was a quick rustling at the desk and the bolt on the door was lifted. Not that he had any belief that she'd truly kill him, but he always opted to not destroy the furniture or the walls. "Did you need me?" he asked after opening the door.
She smacked the side of his head gently, the pressed up against him and kissed him quickly. "I always do not that you'd know since you've been hiding in here. I'm sick of this, Marcus. You need to talk to me now."
"Ow!" Marcus quickly recoiled, "When you put it that way..." He stepped away from the door and headed to his desk and the journals he had been reading, "I've been doing a lot of thinking, that's all."
"About what?" Amy followed him, wrapping her arms around him, needing to touch him.
Marcus took a heavy breath, turned to hold her, "Something I've kept to myself. I didn't mean to hide away for so long. I barely noticed, to be honest."
"I noticed." She said softly against his shirt. "I missed you. So tell me what's so damnably important."
Marcus held her, "The man who's going to come to kill Methos, I know him. I know him like my own family."
"Who was he?" Amy asked softly.
Marcus just gave a small smile, "You've spoken to Methos recently, haven't you? If he asks, and he probably will, you may want to look up a man named Flava Sulla. That and whatever name he gave him should be enough. Sullivan something."
"Francis Sullivan." Amy nodded. She stroked Marcus's cheek. "I’m sorry, love."
He took her hand, "No, I am. It's more than that I know him. It's that he's right on some level. He told Methos the sword belonged to him. It's known that an immortal who takes the head of another most of the times also takes the sword as proof. He ... defeated me once. He told me as he left that the sword was his by right and he'd come back for it. It's why I hid it originally I now realize."
Amy froze. "He defeated you?"
Marcus nodded, "He was my teacher at the time. And.. fighting one's student in such a manner is no easy thing."
"It's nearly impossible to kill one's student..."
Marcus smiled slightly, "I sometimes forget how well versed you are at this. Yes. In fact, I think that's why I was allowed to live. But suffice it to say, it won't happen twice."
"You fighting him or him letting you go?" Amy said soberly. "Because you aren't dying, Marcus."
"The former, if I have any say of it. If I don't, that only leaves one alternative. Don't mistake me, I don't want to die. Not at all. But some things are inevitable. His return is evidence to that," Marcus sighed.
"You're such a fatalist."
"Nothing's inevitable, Marcus."
"I never would have pegged you for an optimist."
"Don't get carried away. You're just not dying. I refuse to let it happen."
Marcus gave her a curious glance, "I should have advised you first then, but pardon me when I think it's simply not that easy."
Amy smiled sweetly. "Darling, I don't play by the rules of the Game. You simply don't understand. You will not die. Phillip will not die. Bother anyone else."
Marcus let out a heavy rescinding sigh and nodded. He smiled, "Far be it for me to argue. But allow me to keep my small amount of pessimism."
"I love you." She said simply. "Pessimism included."
"And I love you, even if you dictate rather explicitly when I am to live and die," Marcus nodded in answer.
"I'm determined." Amy smiled. "Are you coming out of your cave now?"
Marcus nodded, "I might as well. I'm not particularly helpful in here and I've nothing else to read."
She laughed and kissed his cheek. "Poor Marcus."
"Indeed, Poor Marcus!" Marcus chuckled, holding her again, "And my office chair has put the worst knot in my back."
She stroked his back. "If you promise to not hide yourself away again, I'll give you a massage."
A playful grin showed on his face, "...a massage?"
"Yes, if you promise." Amy grinned, leaning up to kiss him.
"I promise," Marcus answered quickly as he bent down to kiss her.
"Love you." Amy smiled, kissing him quickly. "Go shower and I'll get everything ready."
"Yes ma'am," Marcus nodded again, walking with her out of his office.
"One day I'm just going to get leather boots and a whip if you keep doing that." She teased.
Marcus just chuckled, even as he slightly blushed, "Of course. I'll hold my tongue."
"Do." She kissed him softly, then patted his bum, directing him toward the bathroom.
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