[MacLeod and Fitzcairn walk along the Paris sidewalk, MacLeod looking preoccupied as Fitzcairn chatters.]

FITZCAIRN - She is a paragon of womanhood, MacLeod. Beautiful, sensuous, intelligent -- a goddess. [sighs] You always were the lucky one where the fairer sex was concerned. [beat] Except for that redhead in London.

[MacLeod is not really listening to him.]
 

 
FITZCAIRN - [shrugs] One can only live on cold soup and dreams for so long. [beat] Speaking of which... what do you say we stop in for a little nip?
 

 
FITZCAIRN - [conspiratorially] The beauty of the afterlife, lad, is there's no one to say "last call, gentlemen" and the taps never run dry.
 

[A well-appointed room, beautifully decorated, but rather formal. Pictures of the children and the loving family adorn the mantel and end tables. Andres scans a document and speaks into the phone as Tessa, wearing a slip, sits in front of the makeup mirror. She looks tired, sad.]

ANDRES - We have less than a week to close Lyon.

TESSA - I was thinking, maybe we could go away for the weekend.

ANDRES - [on phone] Our option expires on Monday. Just do it.

[He clicks off the phone.]

TESSA - We could spend some time together.

[Andres' mind is definitely not on Tessa.]

ANDRES - [looking up] Did you say something?
 

 
ANDRES - [beat] Our guest will be here any moment. I should open the wine.

[He leaves Tessa, who contemplates her image for a moment. Her fingers trace the first signs of crow's feet at her temple, smoothing the skin beneath her eye. Then she shakes it off and with a renewed will determinedly begins to do her make up.]
 

 
TESSA - I grew up. [as if confirming it to herself] Andres and I have made a good life together.

MACLEOD - I'm sure you have.

TESSA - We have Marc and Suzanne. We have the chateau, the gallery... a summer place in Cap Ferrat... [beat] I'm very... comfortable.

[The very word a denial of happiness. MacLeod looks at her, feels her sadness.]

MACLEOD - I'm happy for you.
 

 
FITZCAIRN - As I was saying... [beat] Destiny, is like a river that flows with the hopes and dreams of humanity. And when an outsider, like you, comes along and tries to dam it up, the river'll do whatever it needs to do, to get around you and back on course.

MACLEOD - Like I never existed.

FITZCAIRN - Bingo. [beat]
 

 
[There's a voice from a table behind them. The rough-hewn REGULARS of the bar prevent us -- and MacLeod -- from seeing the speaker at first.]

METHOS - (O.S.) [angrily] Where's my beer?

FITZCAIRN - Bugger off, mate. Can't you see she's busy?

[The Regulars know better than this, and scatter like cowboys sensing a gunfight in the saloon, revealing METHOS at his table, empty glass in front of him. He seems driven by a nervous, almost manic, energy, bordering on paranoia. He reaches across the table and grabs the Barmaid by the wrist.]

METHOS - I said, where's my beer?

[MACLEOD alone at his table across the room, reacts.]

MACLEOD - [quietly] Methos...

[METHOS' grip on the Barmaid's wrist tightens. He seems to be enjoying her discomfort. Fitzcairn gallantly comes to the damsel's rescue, knocking Methos' hand away. The Barmaid scurries out of harm's way.]

FITZCAIRN - Unhand her, you bully!

[In a flash, Methos is on his feet, a wicked looking knife at Fitzcairn's throat.]

METHOS - You must think this is a good day to die, little man.

[Across the room, MacLeod is on his feet, ready to intervene. Fitzcairn tries to defuse the situation with a little humor.]

FITZCAIRN - [most charming grin] Been there, done that. [wry shrug] Never fun.

[Methos pulls the knife away from Fitzcairn's throat as the Barmaid hurries up to Methos with a fresh beer.]

FITZCAIRN - There you are, on the house. [beat] No hard feelings?

[Methos takes the beer, upends the full glass on the table angrily, stalks toward the door.]
 

[SUPER: PARIS, 1995]

[The decor of the one-room apartment is decidedly feminine. French doors open onto a balcony. Methos is dressing and in the middle of a conversation with JILLIAN O'HARA, 28, pretty in a studious way, already dressed in casual office clothes. (Note: Both of them wear Watcher Tattoos.)]

METHOS - We've been through this before. The answer is no.

JILLIAN - The answer can't be no.
 

[Methos and Jillian are continuing to go at it.]

METHOS - You swore you'd never tell anyone that I was Immortal.

JILLIAN - You know what's going on. Horton has already convinced half the Watchers the Immortals are evil, and now he's going after Dawson.

METHOS - It's not my problem.

JILLIAN - He's hunting Immortals. Darius is dead, and so are a dozen others.

METHOS - [firm] He's not hunting me.
 

[Jillian leads Horton down a hallway toward her apartment. Her face is expectant, even happy, imagining herself the instrument of peace, the arbiter of a new era.]

FITZCAIRN - (V.O.) She was one brave girl, that Jillian. She was determined to make Horton see that Immortals weren't all "abominations."

[Jillian stops in front of her door. With a reassuring nod from Horton, she takes a deep breath, puts her hand on the doorknob.]

[The table is set for a special night. A bottle of something fancy is chilling on ice. Methos sets a small RING BOX in the middle of Jillian's place. He HEARS the door open.]

METHOS - Jillie?

[He turns to see -- JILLIAN enter.]

METHOS - [re: table] Surprise.
 

 
[Methos rushes to her side, cradles her head in his lap.]

METHOS - [to Jillian] No... please...

HORTON - [to Methos] I had to. You corrupted her. And she would have corrupted the others.

[But Methos is barely listening as...]

JILLIAN - Forgive me...

[She dies. Methos stands, his face filled with pain and rage, his eyes drilling into Horton.]

METHOS - You're dead. [He draws his sword.]

HORTON - Wrong again.

[Suddenly THREE WATCHERS burst through the door behind Horton. In a flash HORTON draws a sword. THE WATCHERS open fire. METHOS dives behind the sofa, but it provides little protection. He scrambles toward the balcony to escape, but can't dodge the gunmen. He takes a bullet in the shoulder, one in the leg. He goes down in a heap near the closed French doors. The gunfire stops. HORTON raises his sword, comes toward him. The gunmen close in.]

HORTON - You pathetic coward. Hiding among us all these years. Subverting us, corrupting us. [He hauls Methos to his knees by the scruff of the neck.] It ends here.

[Methos, barely conscious, realizes his 5,000 years are about to end. Then, suddenly, as the sword begins to fall, he gets the BUZZ. Hope, in the form of KRONOS comes crashing through the French doors, barreling into Horton, knocking him away from Methos. (Note: Kronos is in modern-day costume.) Kronos' automatic is blazing before he even rolls to his feet. WATCHER #1 goes down under the hail of bullets. KRONOS turns his gun toward Horton, but WATCHER #2 dives in front of his leader, taking the bullets and saving Horton's life by giving his own. HORTON AND WATCHER #3 make it out the front door and away.]

[In the stunning quiet that follows, KRONOS crosses to Methos and offers him a hand up.]

KRONOS - [a smile] Greetings, brother.
 

 
RICHIE - He got his brat and we got his cash.

KRONOS - [to Methos] It seems our little brother is learning well.
 

 
[Richie catches on. He gulps.]

RICHIE - You want me to kill him?

KRONOS - [to Methos] I'm not sure if he's really ready.

RICHIE - [jumping in] I've got it covered. No problem. [justifying it to himself] He hunts us, we hunt him.

[It's obviously false bravado, but the Horsemen milk it for all it's worth.]

METHOS - We wouldn't want to force you into anything you're not comfortable with.

[Kronos looks Richie over, then turns to Methos.]

KRONOS - I don't think he can handle it.

[Richie breaks in.]

RICHIE - Hey! I said, no problem. You want him dead? He's dead. [beat] Just tell me where the sonuvabitch is.

[OFF Methos and Kronos, beaming at their newest creation--]
 

 
[Dawson picks up a bottle, pours himself a shot.]

DAWSON - But you're not so bad. Just got a weakness for the easy way out. [re: shot] Believe me, I can relate.

[He downs the shot.]

RICHIE - So you know a few things. Places I've been. So what? You don't know me.
 

 
METHOS - Why?

RICHIE - I'll whack him this time. I promise!

KRONOS - I don't think so.
 

 
FITZCAIRN - He's paying a visit to an old friend.
 

[A large, abandoned library/storage facility. The SHELVES are empty, dust covers sparse furniture -- it's clearly been deserted for some time. Methos stands beside Dawson's chair while Kronos stalks the room.]

KRONOS - Disappointed... very disappointed.

[He KICKS a shelf, shatters it into splinters.]

DAWSON - This is the place. He was here.
 

 
DAWSON - Damn. Guess my rolodex needs updating.

[He can't hide a small look of satisfaction.]
 

[Tom herds MacLeod ahead of him at gun point along the tunnel to where O'Rourke holds Dawson and Amanda. As they walk along, MacLeod, hands raised, makes conversation.]

MACLEOD - You know, I'd be careful out here alone at night, if I were you.

TOM - Shut up.

MACLEOD - A dark tunnel at night can be a very dangerous place.

TOM - [exasperated] Shut up!

[MacLeod gets the BUZZ and smiles.]

MACLEOD - Werewolves and vampires... men who come back from the dead...
 

 
MACLEOD - [beat] How's your Irish accent?

METHOS - Depends. Dublin, Cork, Belfast, Limerick...?

MACLEOD - That'll do. [beat] Pull up your collar.

[As they hurry up the tunnel--]
 

 
[They KISS. As MacLeod rises -- Dawson steps in, looks warmly at MacLeod, overwhelmed that he's alive. All he can say is--]

DAWSON - Son-of-a-bitch... Son-of-a-bitch.

[They embrace.]

[Methos, Dawson and Amanda are hanging around the barge as MacLeod enters, coat on, with a magnum of champagne. Methos looks up and moves to him.]

METHOS - [re: the champagne] I'll take that. [takes the champagne]

MACLEOD - Methos...

METHOS - [holds up his hand.] Please. No thanks are necessary.

MACLEOD - [a smile] I was going to say that was the worst Irish accent I ever heard.

METHOS - [beat] Next time your butt needs saving, get Lawrence Olivier.

MACLEOD - I don't have a clue about who or what you are, Methos. But you taught me that life is about change. That what you were isn't necessarily who you are.

METHOS - [deeply felt] Thank you.

[MacLeod moves to Dawson as Methos opens the champagne bottle. Amanda approaches with a glass. Methos pours.]

DAWSON - [re: Methos] Was he really going to kill me?

METHOS - [overhearing, reacts] It was a dream, okay?

DAWSON - I can't see my life without you, Mac. And the truth is, I don't want to.

MACLEOD - You're my friend, Joe. No matter what. Thanks for believing in me. Even when I haven't believed in myself. And for reminding me that I'm human.

[MacLeod takes a glass of champagne from Methos. He lifts it.]

MACLEOD - To you guys... [beat] And to Tessa... and to Richie. And Fitz... whatever world you're in...

[They all raise their glasses--]

AMANDA - To Duncan MacLeod.

DAWSON - Of the Clan MacLeod.

METHOS - Long may he live.

[They drink... MacLeod is looking at Amanda. He turns and speaks gently to her.]

MACLEOD - I love you.

AMANDA - [innocently, delighted] Really?

MACLEOD - You make my heart glad. You always have.

[She kisses him. Methos approaches to pour more champagne. Amanda turns away, just for a moment. As Macleod looks at: MACLEOD'S POV -- METHOS, AMANDA AND JOE, the people he loves.]

[RESUME SCENE: He turns away, and as he exits the barge, Joe begins to follow. Methos touches his arm to stop him, sensing that MacLeod needs to be alone.]

METHOS - [lightening the moment] It's good to have a moral center to the universe -- even if he can be a pain in the ass.

AMANDA - [smiling] You know, Methos, you're not nearly the arrogant, self-absorbed jerk you were when I met you.

METHOS - Well, thank you... I think.

[MacLeod steps out on the barge, alone. He looks to the lights. In his mind's eye, he sees a DISSOLVE INTO:]

[MONTAGE of Highlander's Greatest Hits, spanning the six years of the series. A retrospective of Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod and the people and events his life affected.]

[On MacLeod as he walks off into the fog. He seems to vanish into it, and into history.]