I never ceased to be amazed how much the Old Man is willing to let the Highlander see - it's a pity that MacLeod is usually unaware of the information that Adam's wordlessly offering. Things get messy when he's three steps behind the Old Man.
Take now, for example. Adam looks the picture of contentment. He's here in the bar. He's relaxed. He's chatting. He's got a beer - and he's worried about something. It's apparent to anyone with the eyes to see. There's nothing as mundane as picking at the label for the Old Man, oh no. You have to pay attention.
Ignore the thumb that absently rubs on the lip of the bottle as he talks to you about life and the weather - instead, concentrate on the finger that taps a nervous message on the neck of the bottle. Another warning sign: the bottle is sitting on a coaster and not on the table itself. Pay attention, MacLeod! Something is bothering him. He needs you.
The Watcher smiled. The Highlander had reached out with one finger to tap the side of Methos' bottle, his face questioning. MacLeod was learning. This was good. When these two Immortals were in sync, peace prevailed.