Immortal History Lessons 15

Immortal History Lessons 15

Ayia Napa Square

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The Square was pounding with life, mostly British and some Russian. Thanos had come to meet some of the Russians, and had completed his business quickly. Quickly, he thought, was the only way to do business with Russians. Otherwise they might think you wanted them to hang around and the last thing he wanted was some Russian mob flunky at his heels on Cyprus.

Being here, so close to the Turkish side, was risky. Kenan was an understanding man in most ways but on some matters he was wholly Turkish and Cyprus was one of them Sadly he, Thanos, Greek Cypriot that he was, was totally Greek on the same subject.

He kept his seat at the table outside the Moulin Rouge, ignoring the Russian whores who'd been eying him since they'd seen him come in and grown positively avid when they saw the man who'd joined him. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes moving constantly over the square and signalled the waitress for another round. "So," he said to his companion, "You saw Carmine. And he evacuated Rhys and the children from the island?"

"Carmine sends his regards, Thanos. He helped to settle Rhys and his family there when Kalo offered it to them, so it is a matter of honor to him that they remain safe. He was most appreciative. The djinns however escaped."

"Unfortunate, that," Thanos said. "I must remember to write Carmine and thank him. And be sure that there is no way I might aid Rhys." He took his eyes off the square for a moment, letting them rest on Zak. "I appreciate you helping them."

Zak shrugged. "Djinns," he commented, the sort of comment he made a lot. A word offered, hiding a whole host of secrets behind it.

Thanos's lips quirked. "Unlike yourself?" he asked, returning his attention to the square.

"On the contrary. Just like me."

It was her ass that got his attention, diverting him from whatever reply he might have made to Zak. It was a very remarkable ass. It swayed under the short skirt of her sun dress in a way that had him holding his breath each time she took a step on long, sleek, tanned legs that went on forever. She moved with an innate grace as she crossed the square, holding herself tall and straight with the unself-conscious pride of a queen. He got hard just seeing the rhythm of her legs lifting and lowering the plump, rounded mounds of her ass.

He watched her, his view of her obscured for a second and then restored, again and again, as she moved through the crowds, thinking things she'd have probably slapped his face for if she'd known. It had been a long time since he'd been aroused just by watching a woman walk. But this woman wasn't just walking, she was making a promise that had him achingly hard.

She was slowing down and he tensed, waiting to see who she was with. She distracted him from that all important question for a minute when she slid sideways between a couple, the action pulling the dress tight across her breasts, molding them, defining the relaxed nipple and accentuating the flat line of her stomach, and the impossibly perfect semi-circle that went from rib to waist to hip. Then the skirt hiked up as she sat and his breath stopped until she smoothed it down, covering the tops of her thighs.

He closed his eyes for a moment, clearing his head and then opened them to see a man lean over and kiss her. His eyes narrowed. "It can't be," he swore under his breath, torn between amusement and annoyance.

"That she's with someone? Hardly," Zak replied, a smile in his voice.

"True. It's who she's with," Thanos replied, finishing his drink in a single swallow.

"He's not normal, but I'm not familiar with the type," Zak replied, thoughtfully.

"He's an Immortal," Thanos said.

"Ah. Swords and heads. Got it."

Thanos rattled the ice in his glass, a thin smile curving his mouth. "Yes and he takes both with him wherever he goes. Would you like to meet him?"

"Yes, I would," Zak agreed, finishing his own glass. "Not to mention her."

"Not to mention her." Thanos shoved some money in his glass and then stuck Zak's on top of it. "This way then," he said standing up.

Zak followed the Prince, amused by Thanos's reactions. To her and to her companion.

Thanos crossed the square without taking his eyes off the couple he was about to intrude upon, as indifferent to the way people moved out of his way, as he was to the women who watched him do it, probably thinking thoughts very similar to the ones he had watching the woman. His attention now was locked on her companion.

She was eye candy and then some, there was no doubt about it. But only a fool, if they knew her companion, would do more than look and even that had to be handled discreetly. He had no desire to cross swords with this man. On the other hand, he reflected, he was totally willing to take unconscionable advantage of his entirely timely presence on Cyprus.

Still, when he reached the table it wasn't the man he focused on but the woman, his smile everything it would have been if her companion hadn't been there...warm, promising, appreciative...as he swept her, just the once, with his eyes. "She's who I'd paint as Eve," he drawled and then shifted his eyes to the man. "But you're hardly my first choice for Adam."

They'd had a lovely day sailing on the clear cerulean waters, Methos relaxed and happy for a wonder, him teasing her to remove the bikini and brown up all over, and she determined not to, not because she wouldn't have liked to, but more because the interplay between them had been so enjoyable. It was about erasing the memories and pains of Paris, healing the wounds, papering the painful memories over with more pleasant ones.

They'd come back to their hotel, made love, had dinner and come out to join the fun on the square. And now this? Obviously he knew Methos. She itched to slap him; it had all been about gaining an advantage. Who the hell was he.

Methos looked up, eyebrow raised as his signature smart ass smile appeared, beer in hand. "Thanos, old buddy." His old eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?"

Thanos hooked a chair over with his foot and straddled it, resting his arms on the back. "I was born here, old buddy. What brings you here?"

Methos clucked his tongue, leaning back in his chair. "Oh come on, Thanos. I heard about the promotion, aren't you just a bit too close to the border for your own good?"

"Still on my side of the line," he said. And since it's my side of the line," he went on, his voice gaining just the slightest edge on the 'my', "what brings you here?"

"Vacation," Methos said plainly, his hand snaking across the table to take Sydney's. "And you're not invited. All our plans are booked for two, and most of them involve sun screen."

Now that Methos had acknowledged her, Thanos let his attention drift to her again for the briefest of moments. "Well that's fine since I've no interest in either a vacation or sunscreen," he said. "I do hope you enjoy your stay on Cyprus Ms...?"

Methos gave her hand a barely there squeeze.

"Smith. Sarah Jane Smith. Nice to meet you. Honey, can I have a drink?"

Methos, who's face had just constricted in an odd fashion in his attempt not to laugh, coughed and raised his hand for the waitress.

Thanos's grin appeared. "It's so fortunate there's no drinking age on Cyprus, Ms Smith. There won't be any need to produce your ID to get it."

"He's just the sweetest thing, honey," Sydney said to Methos. "So, you own the island?"

"Own it? Oh no, Ms Smith. That would be too much like work," Thanos said. "And may I introduce my friend, Zak. Zak, Ms er...Smith and this is...uhm...what name are you using these days, old buddy?"

Zak had been standing off a bit watching this, with a hand over his mouth, stepped forward and held out his hand to Sydney. "Delighted, Ms Smith. I'm Zak."

"Honey, delighted right back. Do pull up a chair, right here next to me. Adam, do you know Zak too?"

Methos gave her a look, wondering if she realized how thick she was laying it on before shaking Zak's hand. "I haven't had the pleasure yet, Adam Pierson." Then Methos caught sight of his eyes. "Out of personal curiosity, you haven't been to New York in the last three weeks, have you, Zak?"

Zak gave it some thought. "I don't believe I have, Mr Pierson. I'd remember I think."

Thanos took the drink the waiter brought him and sipped it, waiting for him to finish serving the others. "You know, old buddy, this is really a very interesting coincidence. "I was thinking of you just the other night, remembering all the good times we used to have together. And here you are, just like the old days."

Methos laughed. "I don't care what it is, I'm not doing it."

Thanos looked hurt. "You mean you're turning down my invitation to dinner tomorrow before I even tender it? Your manners used to be so much better than that, even with the Nazis."

Methos growled irritably, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're a sneaky little shit, you know that?" he grumbled, taking a drink of beer. "Bloody Nazis."

"Do you dance?" Sydney asked Zak.

"I do," Zak replied.

"Come on then," she said, grabbing Zak's hand and towing him into the crowd.

Zak winked at the other two and followed not at all reluctantly.

When they got to the dance floor Zak took Sydney in his arms.

"So who's your boss when he's at home?" she asked.

"You didn't want to dance with me because I'm incredibly handsome and have a sort of mystical attraction to women?" he asked disappointed.

She snorted.

"One more illusions shattered," he replied sadly.

"Okay, if you won't answer that one, what are you? And what did Adam know about you by noticing your eyes? They're very nice, actually, if I do say so myself."

"What am I? Just me," Zak replied. "My eyes... laser tattooing, the latest fad."

"Grrr," Sydney said and then had to concentrate on dancing.

Thanos watched them dancing, not saying anything for a while. Then he looked at Methos. "Seriously, come for dinner tomorrow."

Methos didn't even bother taking his eyes off the djinn dancing with his lover. "She's not part of this," he warned.

Thanos raised an eyebrow. "That's your call. But I'll be fascinated to watch you keeping her out of it if she doesn't want to be kept out. And if you succeed," he added, toasting him with his drink, "that will make you a far better man than I."

"Yeah, well, whatever this is, it's gotta be big if you're calling in 'that' favor. And I'd rather not have her in the middle of it."

1942
Crete

"Look, let's talk about this. Do I sound or even look remotely German?" Methos asked, staring down the barrel of the rifle pointed at him by a rather burly Greek.

"You're wearing one of their uniforms." the man growled.

Methos cursed himself silently, the plan to blow up the Gorgopotamos Bridge had seemed a good plan, slow things up a bit the way the war was turning out. Then some smart mouthed kid had suggested the Nazi uniforms and the old man should of known things would go south.

"Yes, because I wanted to make it out of Greece in one piece. I'm not your enemy, I'm not German." He repeated.

It only got the rifle jammed under his chin. "But you're not Greek either, you sound British. And all they've been to us lately is trouble. Blowing up bridges for instance," his voice wasn't exactly filled with praise, neither was the pointed pressure of the gun against Methos jugular. "You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that, would you?"

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, let the man breathe. It's only torture if they're still alive," came a drawling voice from the door, it's officer owner lounging against the jamb, arms folded across his chest looking bored.

Methos was able to look down the line of his nose at the angle his head was being held at, but he didn't have to see the man to know the voice. He smirked.

"Here to lap up the left overs, Thanos?" Methos asked as cheerfully as he could while thinking about how a gunshot to the throat would hurt.

"I left both lapping and leftovers behind a long time ago old friend. I see you have held on to foolishness, however." Thanos jerked a thumb at the the other men as he spoke, resulting in a minuscule withdrawal of the gun.

Thanos smiled at the soldier with the gun, a singularly pleasant smile that had the other man going ashen. The gun withdrew further.

"Thank you," Thanos said to him. And then, to Methos, "So Ben...that is right, it's Ben? What's the problem? They dislike your choice in tailor? Or is it the accent that's confusing them?" he asked.

Methos nodded, he'd been going by Benjamin Austin for the last decade, a name he'd have to drop soon it would seem.

"Well it seems they think I had a hand in a little guerrilla warfare recently, funny that they're judging me since they're hip deep in it themselves." Methos said, rubbing at his neck where the gun barrel had rested.

"Yes but they're Greek," Thanos reminded him. "You are not."

"Yes, which is why I'm on my way out," Methos bit out, trying to keep the bitterness of backs turned on him out of his voice. "I don't think humans will ever change, they only want others help until it doesn't suit them anymore."

Thanos shook his head. "Such cynicism, my friend. And at your age." He ignored the look on Methos's face and looked at his watch. "There is a boat leaving for Palestine in an hour. If you're willing to risk it, I can get you aboard. But," he concluded, "you'll have to change."

Methos grinned. "Not once but twice," he mused aloud. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you preferred me alive." Then the old immortal shook his head, looking a bit grimmer. "Make sure you win this one Thanos, Hitler's slipping up by sending his troops here, I hope you're smart enough to take advantage of it."

"So do I,' Thanos said soberly. "But we are Greek and since Thermopylae we have been doing our best to help our enemies, not defeat them by fighting amongst ourselves, a stupidity the Anglo-Saxon Normans and the Celts got over long ago...for the most part anyway."

Thanos crossed to the desk and pulled out a bottle while waving the other soldiers out of the room. 'They will return with clothes for which I apologize in advance. But it's either fleas and lice or the German lines. And the crossing will be dangerous as you know." He poured an thick cloudy liquid into a pair of glasses and passed one to Methos. "To other times," he said and raised his in toast. "And other lives."

Methos grinned before shooting his back.

Present Day
Cyprus

"It took me weeks to get rid of the lice." Methos grumbled into a new bottle of beer.

Thanos grinned. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

Methos, still watching Sydney, saw her turn and flash him a smile.

Then, suddenly ...

Thanos heard it before Methos saw it and knowing as he may not that only foot traffic was allowed in the square, reacted first to the two jeeps that pulled in, scattering tourists right and left. He didn't need to see the automatic weapons the passengers held or even the frenzied reaction at the Moulin Rouge. He kicked the table over and dove into the crowd, heading for Zak and Sydney. For Methos he spared neither thought nor effort.

But the old man was keeping time with Thanos as they forced their way through the sudden wave of people trying to get clear of vehicles plowing through the crowded square.

When Methos and Thanos, side by side, broke through the crowd though, they saw vehicles and weapon wielding not to mention angry Russians and Greeks. There was no sign of Sydney or Zak.

Thanos stopped short and grabbed Methos's arm. "Zak's got her safe," he shouted over the din.

"Where?" Methos shouted back, his eyes sharp as flint.

"My place," Thanos answered and started fighting his way through the crowd towards the nearest side of the square.

---

"Oomph," exploded from the djinn's mouth. She'd already delivered a one two, chin and eye, and now her foot had just connected with his groin. He went down.

She stood there, looking around, hoping to find an exit.

"Wait," Zak ground out. "Thanos knows where I brought you. He'll bring Adam."

The use of that name made her eyes narrow. "What the hell are you, that you could just, I don't know, wave a hand and suddenly we're here."

"Wait," Zak replied, still sucking in breath and struggling to see past stars and pain.

"Just a human, buster. So don't push me around."

Zak, desperate to make sure she wasn't going anywhere, threw a spell that locked the door she'd been heading for. "Will you just listen?" he pleaded.

Thanos stopped at the entrance to the living room, taking in the scene in a glance. "Jesus lady, I hope someday you learn there's a time to ask questions before assaulting someone," he said.

Methos, on the other hand, was amused by what he saw and more then a little relieved. "That's my girl." He commended, even a little proudly.

Sydney straightened up her sundress, then glared at Thanos. "How do I know who you two are. No one told me."

Zak's color was returning slowly and he could at least breathe again.

Thanos's eyes narrowed back at her. "Yeah we did. We even used our real names. And your boyfriend here didn't go for his sword when we showed up which ought to have made a number of things plain."

"Actually," Methos interrupted. "Zak here's lucky she didn't pull a gun on him."

Syd chewed on her lip looking uncertain and remorseful. "Are you all right?" she asked Zak, helping him up.

"No!" he replied.

"Now that you've taught her the on switch," Thanos told Methos as he walked to the bar, "you'd better teach her the off switch before she gets herself killed in her zeal to impress you." He pulled a bottle from under the shelf and then four glasses. "And maybe you'll be courteous enough to share with us her real name, now that we all know we're not enemies, even if we're not friends," he suggested while he poured, handing the first one to Zak.

"I don't know who you are, or what you want, but it's obvious to me you're trying to make Adam do something he's not happy about doing. So you can just... I am sorry," she added looking at Zak.

"There was trouble in the square," Zak told her.

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh?"

"He's being honest, Sydney." Methos said, using her real name as he handed her a drink. "Looks like the regulars were getting restless and decided to take care of it with automatics. He got you out before they started firing," the immortal said, gesturing to Zak while he gave the djinn a grateful smile.

"Oh. Well, you should have said something," Sydney replied faintly.

"I'm fine," Zak lied. "Don't worry about it."

"Maybe next time you'll give him a chance," Thanos said. Then he sighed, looking out over Cyprus.

"It's not something you can change in a year or more, Thanos." Methos said, following his gaze. "You know it takes time."

Sydney sighed. Speaking riddles again. She sipped her drink and sat in the nearest chair.

Thanos turned from the windows, having no need to see the police flashers lighting up the square below to know what was happening there. What he didn't know was how bad it had been. "Yeah," he said. "I know. And the problem down there is the same one as up here." He swallowed some scotch and set the glass down on the bar. "You better teach her or she'll end up dead. Not everyone's Zak."

"Excuse me if I didn't plan on turning our vacation into survival training 101." Methos quipped. "I appreciate the hand but it sounds like you're expecting more dangerous events in the near future. Funny, since I remember booking scuba diving for tomorrow, not base jumping."

"I meant," Thanos said, "how to tell your enemies from the rest of the world. Because regardless of what I do or don't want from you I'd have sworn we weren't enemies."

"We aren't." Methos said honestly. "And whatever you're not telling me can wait till later."

"I meant it," Thanos said. "I'd like it if you both would come to dinner tomorrow. And if, after you hear me out you say no, then you say no."

Methos grinned. "Nice of you to give me a way out."

"We aren't enemies," Thanos said with a shrug.

---

Sydney was pretty much silent on the way back to the hotel, letting Methos guide her along with no resistance. When they got to their room she sat down on the bed, looking down at the floor.

"You did nothing wrong." Methos chastised without asking what was the matter.

"No? Then why do I feel like such a fool."

"Because he's a man who's used to war and they can be intimidating," Methos said, then checked his tone and lightened it. "Even when they don't mean to be."

"We need a code. Rosebud. When we meet someone you know and you say Rosebud I promise not to sock 'em."

"Rosebud?" He asked, chuckling. "I think we'll need something a little more original then that. I'm actually surprised they translate Doctor Who into Greek. That's actually frightening if you think about it," Methos babbled as he shrugged off his coat.

"And I couldn't have signaled you, even if I wanted to. It's been a long time since I've seen Thanos, I didn't know what to expect when he walked up to the table with a djinn," he admitted.

"With a what?" she asked.

"The things you saw pretending to be bottle rockets in New York." Methos explained.

"That attacked Alanna? Oh. No wonder you weren't too sure about them."

Methos nodded. "That's why I didn't want them to know your real name in the square. Saving you doesn't prove as much as it should, but I can't see Thanos being a threat to us for no reason."

"So he's another immortal, Thanos?"

Methos' brow furrowed. "Not...exactly."

"I'm not supposed to know, I suppose," she said with a sigh.

"I never said that."

"Then what do you mean, not exactly?" she asked.

"Well, lets just say that," Methos shrugged. "Normally, someone like Thanos would look at you like a cherry flavored juice box."

"He did," she muttered darkly.

"And I'd be considered a refillable thermos." Methos added.

She finally looked up at him."Huh?"

"He's a vampire, Sydney. A vampire Prince to be exact, but the title is new. I've known him for almost a century now." Methos said.

"A vampire like, uhm. sucks blood out of people and makes them undead?" She shook her head. "Why do I find that unbelievable given djinns and immortals."

"Because your generation has been brainwashed by TV and movies that have exploited the undead as bad actors with capes and equally horrible accents?" he asked.

She giggled. "True. And you lot have been spared."

"Well they haven't managed to get it right just yet," He joked, raising an eyebrow. "You're not going to carry a stake, are you? It's a display of bad manners when you come to dinner with a weaponry meant for the host's untimely demise."

"No but I should wear a large cross."

"I think he'll notice."

"Good. So do you actually want to go to dinner with him, Methos?"

"It can't be a crime to hear him out. And if nothing else, free meal."

"Well, he obviously doesn't like me, so maybe I'll stay here."

Methos sighed and laid on the bed, pulling her down with him. "It's not that he doesn't like you, he just thinks you're going to get yourself killed one day. Big difference."

"No, he thinks I'm going to get you killed one day," she amended, snuggling up to him. "I worry about that too."

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