Disclaimer: Methos and Joe are characters of Davis/Panzer and belong to them. I am not making any money off of this, nor do I intend to do so. Writing is purely for mine and other people's enjoyment.
Author's Note: This little fight has been trying to make its way into a larger work I am currently writing and could never quite find its way in. I decided it would be fun and silly to have it be a standalone. With that in mind, you can imagine the "I" as anyone you want to. It can even be you. Also, these two had been fighting about this for a long while before they ever made it to Joe's….
I wanted to scream as Methos opened the door to Joe's bar for me. "It's a cartoon Adam! It's not supposed to be realistic."
Methos fumed at me as we walked up to the bar. "There's unrealistic and then there's down right slaughter. That was slaughter."
"Oh, I'm sure you hate Snow White too," I spat back.
Joe set a beer in front of Methos and a whiskey in front of me. "What are you to arguing about?"
Methos ignored the question, "No, Snow White isn't that far off the mark. Even if it was, it was a fairy tale. This is Disney taking a real person and reducing her down to a Barbie doll."
"Right, you're going to tell me you were there in the 6th century and knew her personally," I replied. I folded my arms and glared at him.
Methos glared right back at me; then he sighed. "Fine, you want proof. I'll give you proof." He got up and called someone. "Davis, this is Andrew. Have my jet ready in an hour. The London house. Thank you Davis."
I stared at him, "How many active identities do you have?"
He smiled enigmatically, "As many as I need at the time. Are you coming? If you are, we are going to have to get you some better clothes."
"Says the man in an old t-shirt and jeans," I retorted darkly.
"I have nice clothes. I just don't wear them. I've seen your wardrobe. The best things you own come from Macy's." Methos said Macy's like it was a dirty word, and not an upscale mall store.
Joe tapped me on the shoulder, "What's going on?"
I rolled my eyes, "He hated Mulan."
Joe stared between the two of us. "Let me get this straight. You are flying out to London on your private plane, a plane I didn't even know you had, because of a Disney cartoon."
"No, I'm flying out to London to show her my copy of Old and New and Hua Mulan's portrait. Which I keep in my London home," Methos replied irritably.
"Adam, you're being crazy," Joe told him.
"Besides, you know I can't come with you. It's like a day and a half just to get there. I can't miss that much practice," I interjected.
Methos swore in a dead language… or at least one I didn't recognize. "Fine, but we are going to London sometime soon."
I laughed, "It's a deal, so long as you take me to see Big Ben."
Methos nodded dejectedly and called back his…whatever to cancel the flight. He settled back beside me at the bar. "At least tell me you believe me."
I stared into his eyes. They looked so sad and puppy dog like. "You haven't even told me if you actually knew her."
Methos sighed and took a long drink from his beer. "I actually knew her."
He looked melancholy at the table, and I patted his shoulder. "I believe you."
"Thank you," he said, brightening a bit.
"It's still not going to stop me from watching Mulan and sing the music from the cartoon," I told him, while trying to repress a smile.
Methos glared at me. "Sometimes I hate you."
I laughed again, "That's what you get for dating a child of the 90s."
Methos nodded, "You would have liked her.
"Sure, if we could have gotten past the language barrier," I joked.
Methos just rolled his eyes and took another drink.
I smiled at Joe and he smiled back. Methos could be one odd duck.
