WHERE DO YOU GO?
(or You Want Me To What!?)
© Sin (Jan 11 2000)
DISCLAIMER: These guys don't belong to me in any way, I wouldn't wish that kind of fate upon myself! The title comes from a Hunters and Collectors song.
WARNING: This is pretty much PG-13 for some sacreliege if you think of it that way. I have absolutely NO idea where this came from. I was mildly sitting there collating some grant documentation at work today when Methos started whispering in my ear. So blame him! =) Not beta'd, actually it was typed straight into an email, so all the mistakes are my own -grin-
FEEDBACK: I cringe in advance, but if you want to send it – sure! =)
Turning his key in the lock, Richie relaxed as he felt the familiar buzz wash across him. After a long day, there was something incredibly soothing about coming home and feeling that warning murmur hum at the base of his brain. Walking through and locking the door behind him, he dropped his helmet and jacket on one of the couch. "Meth?"
"Oh good - you're back." The mellow tones sounded slightly muffled as the old Immortal called his greeting. The reason for the blurring of that voice was evident as said Immortal came out of the bedroom, pulling one of his ubiquitous baggy sweaters over his head with one hand, the other carrying his boots. "We're going on a field trip."
"But ..." Richie protested, feeling the weight of all his day drag at him. From the looks of it, his intentions of having a beer, a shower and a warm body beside him to lull him to sleep were not to be. At least, not yet.
"No buts. You're coming with me." The Old Man dropped down into one of the armchairs and proceeded to gird himself for the coming adventure by getting his feet snugly encased in worn and comfortable leather. Sparing a glance at his unimpressed partner in crime, he sighed inwardly and hastened to explain. "It's a full moon, if you hadn't noticed."
"Oh." Richie replied, bemused by the turn of events. Methos disappearing for a couple of hours on the nights of the full moon was something he had come to accept. His questions about where his lover went had been answered with ambiguous replies of 'nowhere important' - until now, it seemed. "But ... we're both going?"
"Yup." Methos responded with a grin, almost bouncing to his feet after he tightened and tied the last set of laces.
"You really want me to come?" The youth felt slightly apprehensive about finding out the truth of these monthly disappearances. His imaginings had run the gamut from the idea that the Old Man was a werewolf to it being that it was just an excuse to get away from him for a while. Now that the answer was at hand, a strange sense of trepidation gripped him. What you don't know can't hurt you - right? >>
"Yes, Brat." Methos picked up Richie's discarded jacket and tossed it towards him. "I really want you to come. Don't take this the wrong way, but - get out the door now! We're running late."
"Alright, already. You could've at least let me grab a beer." Richie complained half-heartedly with a plaintive look towards the refrigerator.
"No, we're outta here." Pushing his reluctant love towards the door, Methos grabbed his coat and followed the reluctant redhead out the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Are we there yet?" Richie whined in a grating tone, laughter dancing in his eyes. "I'm huuuuunnngrrryyy!"
"If you don't stop doing that, I'm going to open that door and kick you out of the bloody car." Methos replied in a mock threat.
"Well you were the one who forced me back out of the apartment without letting me get something to eat. Where the hell are we going anyway?" Losing interest in trying to determine their destination from the moon-shrouded landscape bypassing them outside the windows, Richie glanced at his lover in the hopes of an answer. Seeing the other's slight smile, he complained, "You're not going to tell me are you?"
"No. You can wait and see." While no flicker of the expression crossed his face, the self-satisfied smirk in the Old Man's voice was evident.
"Can't you just tell me?" Richie wheedled, hoping that he could get at least some hint of their objective.
"Nope."
Richie huffed loudly and slumped further into his seat, shooting an icy glare at the other man, before turning his gaze back to the window.
"You know sometimes I really hate you." Richie muttered with a petulant pout. "You know how much I hate not knowing."
"And sometimes I really hate you, too." Methos replied with a grin, as he pulled the car off to the side of the road and stopped. "We're here. Now, give me a kiss."
"No." Richie replied mutinously and folded his arms across his chest, his lips twitching as he tried to hold onto his non-existent huff.
"Well, if you're going to be like that ..." Methos smirked, leaning across the intervening space to catch the other's lips with a quick kiss. "C'mon, let's go."
"You don't think I'm going to let you get off that easily are you?" That trademark grin came out in full force, brightening the interior of the car as a teasing twinkle entered the beautiful blue eyes.
"Yes. You. Are." Methos stated in between tickling grabs that had the young Immortal squirming in his seat.
"Ow. No. Get away." Richie tried to twist away from those tickling touches. "No fair."
"Whoever said life was fair?"
Richie finally managed to open the door, almost tumbling out in his rush to get away from the other's tormenting hands. "You're a pain."
"But you love me still."
"Yeah, wonder what a shrink would say about that?"
"That you have incredibly good taste in men?"
Shaking his head in bemused disbelief, Richie finally took the time to look around them. Resting his arms on the roof of the car, he looked at the countryside around them seeing only gently rolling ground and the scattered shadows of trees. "We're here? There's nothing here but some grass and a few trees."
"Au contraire, Brat." The reply was accompanied by a sly smirk."There's more here than that. Follow me."
"Whatever you say, Oh Brave, Fearless Leader." Richie strolled around the car and hastened to join the other man as they headed across on of the fields.
"I knew it was a bad idea introducing you to Siobhan." Methos muttered with a rueful shake of his head.
"Serves you right." Richie retorted, unsympathetically. "How far do we have to walk? I'm not really dressed for a cross-country outing, you know."
"Not far, just on the other side of those trees."
The rest of the climb up the gentle incline was accomplished in companionable silence. Moving swiftly through the trees at the crest of the hill, Methos smiled to himself as he heard the muttered complaints coming from behind him as Richie tripped over another fallen tree limb.
"Shit. Why the hell didn't you bring a torch?"
"Don't need one. The moon provides more than enough light."
"Bloody cat."
"What was that?"
"I said, you're a bloody cat."
Any further complaints were forestalled by their emergence from the trees into a small sheltered clearing in their centre. Richie couldn't help but notice that under the naked light of the moon, Methos took on an otherworldly glow - for the first time really looking like the myth he was. It was that sight that blinded him at first to the three marker stones that graced the grassy space in the middle of the hollow copse.
Tentatively walking forward, he watched his lover drop to one knee and brush his fingers against the carved stone farthest to the left. "Are they ..?"
"Graves." Methos looked back over his shoulder, his eyes no more than pools of hollowed darkness his starkly shadowed face. "Yes ... they're graves." Touching the marker again, he continued. "This is Silas." He nodded to the middle stone, "that's Kronos, and Caspian is on the end."
"But I thought ..?
"That their bodies were consumed in the fire? No. I moved them so they wouldn't be." Rising to his feet, he brushed at the clinging bits of grass and dirt that had clung to the knee of his jeans. "MacLeod doesn't know that I did, he thinks the fire disposed of the evidence." A bitter twist entered the last words.
"So every full moon ..."
"Having trouble finishing your sentences, Brat?" The quip was more a formality than a true attempt at humour. "Every full moon, I come here to say goodbye to my brothers in my own way."
"You miss them, don't you?"
"*Miss* them?" Methos laughed bitterly, before taking a deep breath to calm his splintering nerves. Unable to bear any more platitudes from the young Immortal, he walked over and roughly shoved him forward. "Stand there!"
"Meth?" Richie looked askance at his lover as he stumbled forward, his eyes widening at the feral look that was starting to form in the chameleon eyes.
"Just do it!" The Old Man snapped as he moved until he was standing only a few feet to the right of the young Immortal.
"Alright." Raising a placating hand, he took his position but continued to shift nervously from one foot to the other. "What now?"
"Dance."
"What!?" Blue eyes snapped up to amused hazel in surprise. "You want me to do what!?"
"You heard me. Dance!"
"You're a vindictive son of a bitch, aren't you?"
"If there's an afterlife for Immortals, I want those two to know how glad I am they're gone."
Richie looked down at Caspian's grave beneath his feet and shrugged. "You're warped, but I love you. Any requests?"
~~~~
Okay - I told you it was weird. I was listening to the Hunters and Collectors song Where Do You Go, and these lines sparked the Methos Muse:
" ... I wish I was grateful, my conscience was clear
So then I can dance on your grave ..."Let's just say the rest was history - it's a little ... make that a lot twisted ... but I hoped you liked.