Immortal History Lessons 19
You're Definitely Not a Hobbit
@copyright 2009 Heather Amaral & Jean Hontz
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"I always preferred star gazing in Saqqara," he said quietly, fingers
curling in a strand of her hair. "Cold dunes, warm fire. And a sky so huge and
undivided that it made you feel completely insignificant, small even, in the
grand scheme of things." He closed his eyes, tilting his head back against the
grass. "It might just be nostalgia, but that was always 'my' sky."
"Saqqara... A name that evokes mystery and awe. The pyramids, the Nile. Agatha
Christie books I lapped up when I was a kid. The things you must have seen. The
temples and tombs when they were still fresh and beautiful. It makes me feel
very insignificant, to realize how little I know..."
Methos cracked one eye open to look at her with a lazy grin. "Then I'll make a
deal with you. First time machine we see, you and I can switch places. You can
build the pyramids and I'll be happy in my blessed ignorance."
She turned her head from the stars to look at him. "Thank you for this. Peace
and quiet and no one around but us. There isn't anyone around but us, is there?"
she added after a moment. "No New Zealand Vampire Prince? No debts owed here?"
"Not that I know of," he said. "But if there are, it will take them some time to
find us," Methos assured her. Due to the expanse of nothing but green hills and
mountain scapes for miles, he had a lot of credit to back up his words.
She sighed contentedly, accepting that willingly. "So our agenda is to loaf. I
can live with that. One heist a year is my motto."
"And mine," he agreed with a dramatic groan. "Next time I agree to something
that idiotic, you're allowed to bind and gag me for at least a week, or at least
until the ropes start chaffing."
"Hah. And during that time your mind would be working on some complex plan to
pull off the caper. I remember, you know. When we first met you were spouting
off about complex plans," she accused. "No wonder Duncan always has this look
of horror on his face every time you get that look you get when you think you
have a great idea."
"And I wouldn't put any plan into action unless it was a stroke of pure
genius..." He paused. "...Half of the time. The other half I just play off the
cuff and pray for rain."
She rolled onto her side so she could see him better.
His face was
outlined in the dim light. "So, I know you have a degree in classics from
the Sorbonne. What other degrees do you have? Do you have a profession? Duncan
has the dojo, do you have some poor neglected place somewhere where the
newspapers are gathering on the doorstep?" She paused. "I'm asking because,
well, I was wondering how long you'd stay in New York once we're back there."
Methos turned to look at her, wide-eyed in the moonlight. "You think I'm just
going to leave once this is over?"
"We all have responsibilities," she replied. "I've assumed you have some
somewhere."
"I've nearly left Adam Pierson behind me now, maybe a few more years. Then I'll
have to devise some different persona," Methos said thoughtfully, before smiling
at her. "Perhaps fill some needed teaching position at NYU, make myself a
complete nuisance."
"Oh," she said, her smile her real answer. "I hadn't thought.. I'm not sure what
I thought, really, since being around you seems to stop most of the rational
centers in my brain from working at all."
"Oookay, then not a job that hampers you're ability to think," he teased,
reaching to brush her hair from her face. "Antique dealer? No, the last thing I
need is MacLeod hanging around my shop like a bloody ghost. A writer? You know
what, bad idea actually, I think I made William cry last time I wrote something,
and it wasn't tears of joy." Methos' brow furrowed in thought then he shrugged.
"I'll think of something."
"Don't be silly. Teaching is fine. And the image of us getting into an argument
over some esoteric bit of history in front of a full classroom has it's appeal."
He chuckled. "Am I to be your teacher's aide then? Your deceptively young lackey
whom you've seduced into submission on everything but our conflicting points of
view on historical fact? Actually you know, I kind of like that idea."
"Hah. Teachers these days get into a good deal of trouble for seducing their
aids. No, far better for us to both be staff. You could teach Egyptology. I
suppose some university in New York offers a degree program in it."
He sighed. "And there go all my torrid fantasies about the teacher's lounge."
"You poor thing. I'll make it up to you somehow."
He watched her for a moment before scooting closer, his eyes locked on hers. "I
think being here with me is payment enough to get me through a few centuries."
"God, you're addictive," she sighed. "Worse than chocolate."
"And less fattening," he added. "But I'm not going anywhere, I haven't any other
obligations but you. Stuck me with forever, I'm afraid, or at least until you
get tired of me."
"You realize I'm a pretty boring person when I'm not fending off sword-wielding
maniacs or executing perfectly conceived plans to rob a Swiss Bank or the
Louvre. Whereas you and your friends .... well, I doubt you spend many evenings
home grading exam papers."
Methos raised an eyebrow. "You think that's boring? Try spending ten years
pretending to look for yourself, and passing the time by re-reading your own
journals and drinking beer."
She giggled. "All right, I give up. We'll grade exams and drink beer together,
and you can tell me all about your seedy past, and make me laugh. I love that
you make me laugh."
"I think that can easily be arranged," he drawled pleasantly. "And while I'm
talking about long drunken binges and debauchery, you can share all your dark
and menacing secrets. I promise for each one of yours, I have twenty, so you
have nothing to worry about."
"Ah. Well, I'd better hurry up and make up some dark menacing secrets then. I
know, I'll tell you how my aunt used to bring me dresses and Barbie dolls
because she was so afraid I was a lesbian. Although she used a far less polite
term for it."
"Well obviously your aunt had a guilty conscience about something," Methos
joked.
"If you'd known her husband..." she replied with a laugh.
"What was he like?" Methos asked casually, trying not to pry even as his
curiosity peeked.
"My Uncle? Well, he was a bit unconventional. The artistic sort. I loved him
dearly. He brought me wonderful presents - on nothing expensive, just things
that caught his imagination. He was particularly fond of kitsch souvenirs. You
know, blue hippos from the Natural History Museum, ugly and gaudy I Love New
York stuff, the silly glasses they have for New Year's on the Square, lots of
rhinestones and glitz."
Methos chuckled. "Sounds like he was a fun guy," he said.
"He was. He traveled a lot and was always good for some great stories from the
road. My aunt, on the other hand, was very proper. I've no idea how they ever
married in the first place. I, obviously, fell short of her expectations as to
what a young woman should be."
Methos snorted distastefully. "Thank god."
"I was a tomboy. Hated dresses. Ran around with the boys, refused to play with
dolls. Even got caught spray painting peace signs in the subway. I'm giving you
fair warning here."
"I'll remember to hide the aerosol cans," he teased, comfortable with an arm
draped over her waist as she spoke.
"Can you remember much of your childhood after so long? I'd wonder, I think,
what was memory and what was not real. I suppose it was hard that long ago."
He shook his head. "Bits and pieces, but they probably aren't real. I can't
remember anything clearly until after my first quickening, and that happened
after I'd been immortal for some time." He gave a little shrug afterward and
glanced up at the sky.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
"Why?" He sounded puzzled, looking at her.
She smiled ruefully. "Because I like seeing you happy. I'd rather not bring up
painful memories for you. And, you know, none of it matters to me. You, as you
are now, matters. But it's still hard to fathom that you are so old and have
seen so much of life and history and that I'm here with you looking up at the
stars."
There was suddenly a very old being staring at her behind the familiar eyes of
her lover, an amused smile gracing his ageless lips. Taking her hand, he raised
it up towards the sky, helping her to trace paths in the stars with their twined
fingers. "When I was younger, the stars were more then just pin pricks of
distant planets. They used to mean something, tell stories older then the world
itself."
He guided the swing of her hand along the Southern Cross and then Orion.
"Now--they're just something pretty to look at, like a ten cent postcard." Then
he flipped their hands, palm against palm so she could see the worlds, past and
present meet beneath the stars with them. "They don't mean a thing these days
unless you give them a purpose. So we'll give them one. This is 'our' sky,
Sydney, it always will be. Decades will pass, centuries, and you'll still sit
under this sky with me, forever."
Tears welled in her eyes. "Such a present you give to me."
He made sure she didn't see the pain, directing her hands over another
constellation. "Some days it won't be enough," he said honestly, a slightly
bitter tone creeping in that he couldn't quiet banish. "But I'll remember."
She shivered, then said, "I saw the stars so seldom, that when I did they always
seemed magical. Growing up in the city, my stars were the neon lights and the
lights of the planes flying overhead. We vacationed in the country sometimes,
though, and I'd do as we are now, sneaking out late at night to look up at the
sky. My grandmother's house had a very convenient tree near the window in my
bedroom." She paused, then added, "I suspect she knew full well what I was up
to."
Methos smiled. "Then she understood what they meant to you."
She grinned. "I think she just liked that I was a rebel."
He traced her jaw with his thumb, led by moonlight and the familiar curves of
her face. "Me too," he said and kissed her under the starlight.
------------------
Methos blamed his internal clock for the ungodly hour that he woke up and his
inability to fall back asleep, even with the pleasant warmth of Sydney's still
sleeping body in his arms. But even as he watched her sleep, played gentle
fingers over her skin, his body was restless so he carefully slipped from the
bed and got dressed. Maybe he'd wake MacLeod up, make the Highlander share in
his morning misery, he could use warning Duncan about 'Sugar' as an excuse if
the younger immortal got too irritable.
He passed through the lobby on his way outside, hoping the clear air outside
would make being up this early a bit more tolerable.
"Good morning, Mr Pierson," the lady behind the counter called out, a bit too
loudly. She looked around and then met his eyes. "Might I have a word?"
"Suuure." Methos said, walking up to the desk, made uncertain by the way she was
acting. "If it's about the noise last night, I apologize."
"Noise?" she asked. "No, no one's complained. It's that..." she was biting her
bottom lip looking a bit uncertain.
Methos put on a charming smile as a change of tack. "Unfortunately I don't mind
read, Miss..." Damn, he'd forgotten the woman's name.
"Dianna. Dianna Conelly. It's that.. Someone was asking about Miss Watson, and
it well, it seemed a bit odd, is all." She paused then added, "We value the
privacy of our guests and do our best to be discreet."
Methos tried not to panic, they'd only left Istanbul behind them less then a
week ago and covered a lot of ground to get away from it. But still. "And we
thank you for that discretion, Miss Conelly. But can you tell me what this
person looked like, or tell me what they were asking about specifically?"
"Well," she bit her lip again. "It was our local constable. He'd had a call from
out of the country and since it was an official inquiry I had to acknowledge
that she is here."
Okay, panicking was getting a bit easier now. "Do you know where the call came
from?"
"Charlie didn't say, but somewhere in Europe or near there, I think. He said
he'd be up in an hour or two to speak to her. It could be something is wrong at
home," Dianna suggested helpfully. "Turkey. I think he said Turkey."
"Oh, that's good," he said slowly, trying to sound relieved. "I've been waiting
for some news all week. Well I should head down to the see the constable then.
Could you do me a favor and check us out, Dianna? We'll be headed back to Turkey
as soon as I get the details."
"Oh," her smile faltered. "I hope everything will be fine for Miss Watson. She's
such a nice lady. Pretty too. I'll have everything ready for you to check out
when you get back. Tell Charlie hello for me."
"I will," Methos said with a pleasant smile."Thank you."
He somehow made it back upstairs without running, but he was moving a mile a
minute once he was inside the door. He shook Sydney quickly, clamping a hand
over her mouth so she wouldn't scream.
Her eyes went wide, and he released her when she was awake enough to be
reasonably sure she wasn't going to panic. "What?" she asked. "What's wrong."
"Get dressed and get your things, we have to go." Methos said as he got up and
started to grab clothes out of the drawers and shove them in suitcases.
"Right," she said, and grabbed some clothes and headed toward the bathroom,
hopping on one foot as she tried to pull her jeans on as she walked.
"Checkout?" she asked. "Do we have enough cash between us to leave for them?"
"It's too late for that, they know we're here." He said, taking his sword out
from under the bed. "The local constable just got a call from Turkey, they
confirmed you were here."
"Oh, shit. I'm so sorry," she muttered. "Passport I suppose. Bloody new security
measures."
"They're persistent bastards, I don't even think smuggling you into the country
would have worked any better." He handed her a shirt and held her face in his
hands. "I need you to be calm, okay? I'm going to go pay for the room. When you
come down to the car, don't panic. If we act normal now it buys us time."
"Ok, I'll only be a few minutes," she replied meeting his eyes. "Don't worry.
We'll be fine. No vampires here, right?"
He smirked. "Not this early at least."
Methos moved towards the door, then thought better of it and crossed the room in
two steps to kiss her quickly, roughly, before he finally broke away and left
the room.
He paid Dianna downstairs and put on a good play of calm and happy until he
walked out the door and his step quickened. He shoved the bags in the back of
their rental car, knowing full well they'd have to loose it soon if they wanted
to shake this tail.
As he turned around from the trunk of the rental car a fist met his chin and
before he could even react a weapon was in his face. "Where's Syd?" she
demanded, looking daggers at him.
A young constable, in uniform was standing behind them looking rather panicked.
"You aren't authorized..." he stuttered.
Methos ignored the young man, letting go of his jaw when he felt it settle back
into place. "I don't know any Syd, now would you mind getting your bloody hands
off me?"
He ended up on his ass in the road, the gun rammed into his chest. "I got no
problem shooting you here and now. We know she was here. Where is she?"
He couldn't pull his sword, especially not with the mortal present, but if he
allowed himself to get shot he couldn't protect Sydney.
"We split up," he spat out, not even daring to move. "She wanted to leave, so I
let her. Happy now?"
"No!" The woman swore. She was as tall as he, and strong. She grabbed a handful
of his shirt and put her face in his.
That was when Methos saw Sydney come running out of the lobby and skid to a
halt.
He quickly switched his eyes up to his attacker, using his hand to gently wave
Sydney back in out of sight.
"Leave her alone," Methos hissed under his breath at the woman so the constable
wouldn't overhear. "She's long gone by now and I'm sure Kenan wouldn't be too
upset that out of the two of us, you let the human get away."
"What are you talking about?" the woman asked, just as Sydney came running
toward them yelling, "Jane? Janie, what the hell are you doing to him?"
The woman whirled around, but kept the weapon on Methos. "Sydney," she said,
relief in her voice. "You're okay! Jeezus, you scared the shit out of me!"
Methos stared dumbly at them both for a moment, forgetting the weaponry still
pointed at him. "Janie?" he asked in shock when the name finally sunk in. "This
is Janie?! Since when did your best friend turn out to be Rambo, and when were
you going to tell me?"
The women ignored Methos and suddenly they were in each other's arms, "Oh, shit
I forgot the next letter," Sydney lamented.
"I thought the bastard had killed you or worse!" Janie replied.
"But I told you the mayday protocol was over!" Syd said.
"And how would I know if you weren't coerced into saying it?" Janie demanded.
Methos stood and straightened himself. "No, don't mind me. Just bleeding over
here," he said sarcastically, tasting the coppery tang on the inside of his
mouth, he turned and spat it out.
"Oh! Janey, you hit him!" Sydney yelped and let go of her friend to hurry over
to check on her lover. "Did she hurt you, Me..Adam?"
Methos gave Sydney a highly amused look, rubbing his jaw for Janie's benefit,
the pain was already subsiding. "Not a bad right hook there," he complimented.
"Yeah, well, I'm surprised your jaw isn't broken," Janie replied frowning.
"He's stronger than he looks," Sydney put in. "So, Adam this is Janie. Janie,
Adam."
Jane held out a slightly reluctant hand. "Hi. Sorry about that. Dangerous
world."
The constable, smart fellow that he was, snuck off inside to make time with
Dianna.
Methos shook her hand despite his misgivings. "I didn't think we'd be ambushed
by the friends until we got back to New York; obviously I underestimated other
people's paranoia being worse than my own."
Sydney snorted. "So, now we're checked out," Syd groused.
"And as you can see," Methos said grandly, wrapping an arm around Sydney. "Her
body is right here and not in my trunk."
"I can't believe you flew over here to check on me," Syd said.
"I went to Paris to try to figure out where you went. Then to Cyprus but you
were gone. Then Istanbul, and that scared the crap out of me. What was all that
about anyway?" Janie asked, squinting untrustingly at Methos. "You told me you
were going to Europe, not wandering the wide world," Janie added to Sydney.
Syd shrugged." What can I say."
"We got a case of wunderlust, that's not a crime," Methos said casually. "But we
do have a cellphone, you could of called if you were so worried."
"Oh," Sydney said. "I uhm, lost mine somewhere." She blushed. "And well, I just
never thought..."
Janie reached into her pocket and produced the phone. "In the square on Cyprus
to be precise."
"Adam, did I tell you Janie's a detective? We've known one another since first
grade."
"Kindergarten but I'd rather not be picky," Janie said.
"So, uhm, staying?" Sydney asked. "You might as well get a vacation out of this.
And, uhm, I'll reimburse your expenses."
Methos had both hands in is pockets now. "We were planning on spending a few
more days here and then heading to Egypt. Interested?"
"Jeezus, you guys!" Janie said.
"I take it that's a yes?" Sydney asked.
"I wish. I can stay a few days but I gotta get back to New York."
"Oh," Sydney replied, disappointed. "Still, a few days is good!"
"We can always cut the trip short so we can travel back together," Methos said,
paying close attention to Sydney's reaction. "Egypt's not going anywhere, and
the Christmas holidays are still coming up."
"Does my Dad know?" Sydney asked, going pale.
"God no, of course not," Janie replied.
Sydney sagged against Methos in relief. "Oh, good. How is he?"
Janie snorted. "So think I can get a room? I gather I'm not welcome on your
couch."
Methos brow furrowed. "I don't even think we have a couch."
"Come on, let's get you a room and get ours back," Sydney said, hooking an arm
into Janie's and Methos', happy between the both of them.
"What do you know about him?" Janie asked Syd.
"Enough. Let it go, Janie."
"I'm in the public records," Methos said helpfully. "But I'm guessing you
already checked those."
"Of course. Spotty though," Janie replied easily.
Sydney sighed, "Can my two best friends please try to get along?"
"She started it," Methos objected.
"So much for a vacation," Sydney sighed.