A/N: So I'm watching Highlander yesterday and I see that the same actor who plays James Watson also Methos, the oldest Immortal who is over 5000 years old. And so the fanfic possibilities began. I can't believe no one else has done a cross over for this. Anyway I'm tempted to turn this into a series but I can also leave it as a one shot. Let me know what you think.

James Watson gasped and sat up. "Bloody hell," he muttered, "I really hate all that." He hated that he had just ended another life. He despised dying more than anything, except perhaps lying to people. And he had really liked these people. Even that brat Tesla. The man was brilliant and very intriguing.

As was that John Druitt fellow while he was at it. Truth be told, he never truly blamed Druitt for the Ripper murders. He knew what it was like to have done things like that simply because you enjoyed it. He hoped that pretty Helen Magnus would find it in her heart to forgive Druitt. In all his years he had never seen a couple so perfect for each other.

Considering he was over 5000 years old that was really quite a compliment. Watson struggled to his feet and looked around the complex. "Well this could have gone better," he sighed. He quickly rid himself of the unnecessary metal suit. "God I hate that thing," he muttered to no one. He would have to wait until he was outside to remove this bloody makeup.

"What I wouldn't give for Druitt's teleporting powers," he sighed. He began to shift the boulders out of his way. He was eventually able to climb out but not with out plenty of scrapes and bruises. "It is a damn good thing these will heal quickly," he said to himself. The terrain was certainly awful around here but he fished out his cell phone anyway. He was slightly amazed he actually had service in this remote area. "God bless satellites," he said.

Hitting 3 on the speed dial he prayed his old friend would pick up. "MacLeod," a sleep roughened voice answered.

"Thank god you're there," he said brightly. "I need a lift."

"Methos?" MacLeod asked, "Is that you?"

"Oh come on now Highlander who else would it be?"

"You are far too awake for 3 in the morning," Duncan told him.

"I just faked my own death again, you're damn right I'm awake," Methos told him. "I need some help. I'm in a pretty remote area and you happen to be the only one that knows I'm here."

"Why do I get the feeling it's not somewhere close?"

"I'm in India if I remember correctly."

"India?" Duncan repeated, "What in the world are you doing in India?"

"Searching for Source Blood," Methos told him.

"Source blood? Methos you're making less sense than normal."

"I'll explain everything to you later but right now I need transportation to the closest civilized place and I can't do it myself."

"Because you're contacts think your dead," Duncan surmised.

"If they don't currently, they will soon," Methos agreed. "Helen is nothing if not through. God damn this stuff itches." He scratched vigorously at his neck. The makeup flaked off under his nails.

"You're itchy?" MacLeod asked, "Do I even want to know what you're up to?"

"I've got makeup on to make me look old and it's annoying the hell out of me," Methos explained. "Now I'm going to give you a few numbers call these people and arrange for my transport. Tell them you are a friend of Helen Magnus and you're arranging this for an Abnormal."

"Abnormal? Methos I've never known you to be so honest." Methos could hear the Highlander's smile through the phone.

"Just do as I tell you Highlander," he growled.

"Alright, alright," Duncan agreed in a placating tone. "Just let me get a pencil and paper. Methos listened to the rustling and movements with growing irritation. Just as he was about to snap at MacLeod again he heard, "Alright, I'm ready."

Methos rattled off his location and the number for the nearest Sanctuary. He even gave Duncan explicit instructions on what to say once he got through. He hadn't come this far just to have MacLeod screw it up now. "Say exactly that," he insisted again, "It's very–"

"Important that I get the wording right I know," Duncan said. "Now is there anything else you need?"

"A hot bath and a razor," Methos sighed.

"I'm serious Methos."

"Nothing you can do at the moment," he replied. "I'll call you back when I get to the Sanctuary. You and I have a lot to talk about."

"Oh I've no doubt about that," Duncan agreed. "I'll talk to you soon."

"I do hope so," Methos sighed as he shut off the phone. "Let's see," he mumbled as he looked around him, "A forest usually means either stream or lake." Picking the direction with the easiest access he climbed out of the valley and went in search of water. He found a cool stream not too far way and drank his fill before scrubbing off his awful make up. He could never remember feeling so happy to see his youthful face and vibrant black hair before. "Well old chap," he said to his reflection, "You're looking pretty damn good for a man who just died."

With a grin at himself he got back to his feet. His next thought was to get out of the confining suit and shave off the annoying facial hair but he couldn't do either of those until he was back at a Sanctuary. He sighed and started back down to valley to wait for transport.

He settled himself on the rocks and stared at the sky. He had no idea if the rest of The Five had completed their mission or if they had even gotten out. Since they weren't around Methos assumed that John teleported them out. "I wonder what they'll think when they see me," he murmured. He began to make a mental checklist of the things he needed to do when he was back in civilization. It kept him from worrying if his friends would forever hate him for his necessary deception. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the air, "But there was no other choice."