Of Biblical Proportions (8/11) II Amy couldn't believe her good luck. Pierson--uh--Methos was going to let her look through some of his personal stuff. Stuff over two thousand years old. She carefully reined in her exuberance and showed only her stoic self. Together they made two trips from the room to the car and back again. Many of the delicate calfskins had already began decaying, although the glyphs and lettering still remained clear. They made piles on the bed. When they were finished, Methos picked through some of the scrolls and put them on the floor on the other side of the bed. He pointed to it. "Those are my personal journals, don't touch." "Wouldn't dream of it," she responded sarcastically, but still looked over at them with longing. "The rest of this stuff is what I copied from the original writings housed in the Alexandrian library at the Museion. Most are medical garbage." She started to protest, but he wouldn't let her. "I know I have some epic poetry and historical documents, but there is one scroll I am eager to find." He paused. "The one on the Methuselah Stone," she added eagerly, feeling the excitement churning inside. He smiled. "Not exactly. Back when I worked at the Museion, I found a series of scrolls that were written several centuries before Cleopatra was born. Mostly they're about biblical characters. Each in some way mention a group of crystals that give mortals long life." Her eyes widened at the revelation. "There was more than one?" "It appears so. I read them all and either took notes on a separate scroll or copied them. That's what we need to find. Obviously, time is of the essence. We wouldn't want MacLeod to wander around any longer than he has to, believing he's invincible." "You don't think he is?" "Of course not," he answered, but there was a shred of unease trickling down his spine. He *really* needed to find the whole set. "Well, then let's get to it," she said, pulling a chair over to the bed. "What languages are these in?" "Mostly Greek, some Aramaic. I don't know. If you can't read it, put it back in the jumble and I'll get to it." She picked up one of the scrolls and unrolled it. Methos did the same. She skimmed it reverently and found it to be an Egyptian god's epic. Not what she was looking for but fascinating all the same. "Don't dally on worthless stories." She felt like sticking her tongue out at him. He unceremoniously tossed one onto the floor. Her body flinched at his casual attitude toward this treasure. "Put the ones we've discarded over here," he said, pointing to his beginning pile. She nodded and picked up another scroll. For the next hour they worked in silence, with only the scratching of parchment and skins making any noise. Methos got up and went to the fridge for some beer. "Want any?" he asked, holding a second bottle up for her. She looked at it dubiously. "Is there any soda or fruit juice in there?" "Orange juice, tomato juice, little bottles of liquor and beer. Those are your choices." "Orange juice, then." He handed the little can to her and returned to his seat. She would have liked a glass, but figured that little courtesy was beyond him. His mind was once more focused totally on the text before him. She took the opportunity to stare at him. This man was over five thousand years old. He had done unspeakable evil and yet he didn't seem capable of it now. Julia thought she was afraid of him, and Amy was, but not physically. It was an emotional fear. He was on a plane so far above her that she got a crick in her neck looking up. What must it be like for him to socialize with people so much more innocent, unworldly, than he? "Pierson?" she asked, setting down the juice. "Does this really irk you, you know, working with me?" "No," he responded, curtly. She could tell he wasn't really paying attention. "Why did you lock us in that room at the submarine base?" Methos looked up from the scroll he had just read. His inscrutable eyes bored into her. "Kronos made it a habit to patrol through the base, as a way of thinking. He had told me that it cleared his mind, being in a place so dedicated to war. I scoffed and sat in my chair reading a book. Then I thought about you silly Watchers and what lengths you would go to spy. So I told him that on second thought I liked the idea and copied him, but headed in the direction I thought would be the most probably entry point. I was right and I found you." "Why didn't you give us to Kronos?" "What for? That would have opened up a whole other can of worms. Trying to deal with a pissed off Highlander, a murderous witch and an insane megalomaniac was enough, thank you very much." That shut her up. He reached for another scroll. She blinked and reached for another scroll herself. This one seemed different. It was written in Aramaic and as she read, it came clear that it was about Constantine. "Marcus," she whispered softly. The words were acerbic, detailing the Roman general's obsession with a woman who despised him. "Did you find something?" Damn, he had noticed that she had been engrossed in this particular writing. "I'm a historian. Everything interests me." Carefully she put the scroll down next to her feet instead of the growing discard pile. The next one she selected was written in a language she didn't understand. "What's this one?" she asked handing it to Methos. He looked at it, closed his eyes for a minute and looked at it again. "It's Manetho's dissertation on the beginning of time. The original was kept at Heliopolis, but someone must have smuggled in a copy." "Wasn't he the man commissioned by the first Ptolemy to write a history of Egypt and compile a list of all the pharaohs?" "Yes. But it looks like he did more. This particular piece was extremely scandalous in its day." "It gave substance to the idea of one God, not the pantheon of gods the Greeks and Romans believed in." "Egyptians, too. They had many gods and never truly understood Judaism." She nodded and took a sip of her juice. Her watch binged again, telling her that it was getting late. The sun was almost gone. Suddenly Methos stiffened in his seat. "Did you find something?" His eyes moved along the page, but he didn't seem to hear her. She pulled another roll off the bed and perused it with only half of her concentration. Epic poetry. Methos did say there was a lot of it in here. "Dr. Zoll. I think it's time we called it a night. I've decided to let you and Julia handle all this mess." "Mess?" "Preservation of these priceless artifacts. You need to contact whoever is in charge of that in Cairo." "And you?" "I need to think and I can't do that with you interrupting me every two minutes." "You found what you were looking for," she stated. He didn't need her anymore and now it was time to get rid of the bothersome Watcher. "But what does it say about the crystal? How's it going to help MacLeod?" she asked, her eyes burning with curiosity. "I don't know. That's why I have to think. Come back tomorrow morning." He practically shooed her out. She was surprised that he didn't pick her up and throw her body out the door. In a motion of defiance, she slipped the scroll on Constantine in her coat, picked up her purse and left. She didn't even consider it stealing since he had said he would let her have it all tomorrow.