Highlander

Methos/Joe

Disclaimers: I don't own Highlander, any of its characters or anything else.

Methos was sat on a stool listening to Joe's singing. MacLeod was nattering on besides him, but Methos had long since tuned him out.

"Methos? Methos?" MacLeod said insistently.

"Shush Mac," Methos replied

"You're ruining Joe's song."

"Heaven forbid." Muttered MacLeod.

Both men straightened as the familiar presence of another immortal flooded their senses. On-stage Joe quickly wrapped up his set; he wasn't a watcher for nothing. Nobody friendly was expected.

A man entered the bar; Joe glanced at his companions in time to catch a look of shock from Methos that was quickly hidden. Looks like another of the old mans acquaintances, he thought sighing.

"Lance?" said Methos.

The man looked around and gasped at the sight of the old man.

"Sire?" he said, the blood draining from his face.

Joe and MacLeod stared.

"Close your mouth Joe." Methos smirked.

"Hello Lance. Meet my friends Joe and MacLeod." He added, absentmindedly waving in their direction.

"Sire?" Mouthed MacLeod to Joe, Joe just shrugged. Just when you thought you had a handle on the old man he'd pull something like this on you.

"Sire, they told me you were dead." Lance said.

Methos shrugged

"Apparently not." He replied.

"He'll have a beer Joe." Methos stated.

"And while you are at it..." he waved his empty glass in Joe's direction.

"Sire," stated a dazed Lance.

"Not anymore Lance." Methos shifted.

"Why would you let everyone think you were dead?" Lance said.

Methos sighed; he really didn't seem to know and Methos had no wish to revisit this part of his past. There was a reason he rarely visited England and this was it, he had no wish to be rejected again, he had Duncan for that these days.

Joe busied himself getting the drinks, mentally trying to place this Lance; he came up with nothing.

"So Mr Lance," he tried

Methos laughed and Lance smiled, though he still looked pale and his eyes didn't leave Methos.

"Robert Lance" he stated.

"He uses Lance a lot" smirked Methos.

"Right" answered Joe at what was obviously a private joke.

He glanced at MacLeod who looked equally puzzled.

"So how do you know Adam then?" MacLeod tried.

"We go back a way." Said Methos.

"Sire…"

"Leave it alone Lance," Interrupted Methos.

Lance subsided, in his wildest dreams he had not expected a meeting like this. He had heard about the Kings death whilst in India, by the time he had returned to England, there was nothing to be done but mourn. His wife Gwen had taken it very hard and she had disappeared not many years later, now it looked like the King had vanished for reasons of his own, had left all of them without a thought.

"Perhaps I could have an audience." He said carefully

"Alone." He added, looking at Joe who instantly pretended to be fascinated with the table leg.