OK, my first (and probably pretty miserable) attempt at a Dark Angel/Highlander crossover.
Considering I have never seen Highlander, I ask you to be nice! There's like a whole page of
me explaining things, so sorry about that. It's pretty much AU.
Dark Angel pplz:
Max escaped in '13 because she wasn't with the others when they got out, someone else,
maybe Jondy, started shaking and so Zack had to get them out. Max left in BBWW, and she's
a bit more obedient to Zack than before, plus I'm thinking that she uses guns, but only when
desperate. Tell me if you think I should change that. She's not in much contact with Logan;
they might get together, I really don't know. But Zack and Max definitely won't be together,
sorry. Max was sent on a mission at, I don't know, 12 or so, to find out the Watchers. She
covered them up, made them out to be wackos, and she won't recognise anyone or be
recognised but knows about Immortals.
For those who haven't seen Highlander:
Highlander is a show about Duncan Macleod, Adam Pierson (aka Methos), and some others
but I'm not using them here. They are immortal; they can't die short of losing their head, and
then their life and power go into their killer (that's a 'Quickening'). All wounds heal with
blue sparks, within seconds usually, longer depending on how bad. Some immortals are
peaceful, some 'headhunters' go around 'challenging' others to a fight to the death, so they
can gain their power. These duels are fought with swords, and have rules like, never fight on
holy ground, no interference, only swords etc, serious consequences if disobeyed. 'Methos' is
a legendary immortal 5000 years old. Whenever word gets out he's still alive, he's
headhunted. 'Watchers' are an organisation that formed to keep an eye on Immortals, record
their lives but are not supposed to interfere, or even speak to them. Immortals aren't really
supposed to know about Watchers, but Methos is posing as the head Watcher researcher of
the Methos project LOL.
For those who haven't seen Dark Angel:
It's 2020. Max is a 19yo genetically engineered soldier created by the US government. She's
known to them as an X5 - her designation, X5-452. There are different groups of the soldiers,
X1, X2 etc but because of the bad engineering, some groups are all dead or mutated. Max's
group mostly aren't, she has a series of 'brothers and sisters' as they call each other. Zack is
one, he's the overprotective big brother that's pretty military. OK, this training place where
they were made is called Manticore, it's totally top-secret and the kind of training they got
was like torture - eg breaking bones to see how fast they heal, and other evil stuff. Making
them hunt and kill people. The free brothers and sisters escaped in 2009; she did in 2013.
Max moved to Seattle about 2 years ago, and made some friends, got a job. She also met
Logan Cale, known as Eyes Only to the rest of the world - a hacker who does TV broadcasts
with evidence against criminals, sometimes killing them and sometimes getting them jailed.
Max used to help him often, now it's less frequent.
OK!! Now that I've bored you to tears, on with the story already...
***** Washington DC, 2020 *****
Max glanced around a little as she rode her baby down the street. She was looking for work -
arrived in Washington yesterday and already relishing the slightly better conditions. Seattle
had been a bit of a hole before the Pulse - and it was harder hit by the Pulse than most cities
anyway. Suddenly she did a bit of a double take. There was work available in a shop across
the street. She swerved the bike around to park, giving the finger to the various drivers pissed
off at her sudden move, and checked out the shop. Antiques...well, that was okay, she
thought. She had done a fair bit of study on them for a mission when she was eleven, so at
least she knew her stuff - that was probably pretty rare.
Walking into the shop, she took in the surroundings, and noticed a man behind the counter at
the back.
"Hey." She called, and he looked up. "Yes?"
"I'm here about the job available. Taken yet?"
"Had a few applicants, but I want someone who knows something about antiques." He added
the last bit pointedly. Perfect, Max thought.
"I do." He looked mildly surprised and sceptical.
"Okay, tell me what this is then?" He gestured to a statue, and Max gave him the lowdown.
He quizzed her on two more before nodding, seeming satisfied. "It's eight to six-thirty
weekdays, nine to six-thirty Saturdays, and ten to five Sundays. Pay's on the notice; doubt
you'd miss that. Normal clothes, nick the stuff, make a habit of coming in drunk or fairly late
and you're fired - the usual. When can you start?"
"Tomorrow?"
"Good. I'll want a name, phone number, address?" Time to start obeying Zackie, she thought
morosely. Goodbye, Max Guevara from Seattle, who "doesn't have a fucking phone number,
this is post-Pulse idiot!"
"Anna Paulsen, beeper's 34916829, I'm staying with a friend for a few days so no addy as
yet."
"Right. Got a criminal record?" He grinned.
"Yeah, I'm a genetically engineered escapee from a government military facility on the run.
Also a murderer and thief, last job working for Eyes Only." She said deadpan, then grinned
back at the man whose grin had momentarily frozen. "Couple of parking tickets."
"Tomorrow, then."
"Tomorrow."
She walked out and got back on her baby, now cruising for a flat - or somewhere to live. She
had a bag with a few changes of clothes, money, tryptophan and some...tools. *wink wink
nudge nudge*. She found a likely-looking building and walked in. A guy was just coming
out, and she asked him "Hey, you live here?"
"Yeah, what?"
"What's it take to move in? Anywhere free?"
"Second floor's clear for squatters, two flats. You gotta pitch for this month's payoff
though."
"How much?"
"20 bucks per place. Need it tonight." Max winced. Couldn't spare that much.
"Can't do that. How many in this place?"
"'Bout fifteen, twenty full flats."
"Got electricity? Gas?"
"Whaddaya think we are, Buckingham Palace?"
"I can hook it up, no charge if everyone'll pitch in for me this month."
He looked thoughtful. "Well, we all need it. I'll pass word round. Come with me."
"Thanks." She followed him as they went knocking for it.
"Oi. Jackie." He yelled. A black woman opened the door, looking pissed. "Oh, you. What is
it?" He jerked his head towards Max. "She can hook up the gas if everyone pitches in a buck
for her payoff this month."
"She good for it?"
"She's putting it through before she gets a dollar." Max cut in. "He's taking the money and
paying the bribe for me. If it fucks up too much, I'm out."
"Deal." The woman stuffed a dollar note into the man's hand. They went round to the other
flats, and it was the same. Hook it up first; then the guy would give her the money.
"It's a pretty good lot round here, ya know." He said to Max as they walked.
"Not too much stealing, a few gangs give us a hit but we got some big guys - and not much to
pay them - so we're all right. Good people, too, ya know what I mean?"
"Yeah."
"Gotta warn ya, you'll be out if you're getting us down."
"I'll be a good girl." She replied sarcastically. He just laughed. "Sure sure."
After collecting from everyone, he led her to the old power board.
"Where's your flat?" She asked him, and he indicated it.
"I'll knock when I'm done. Knowing these things it'll take awhile.
"You hooked power up in somewhere like this before?"
"Mate, it's how I get my first payoff." He nodded and went back to his flat. Max pulled out
her tools and went to work. It was old and everything was pretty much rotting, was the main
problem, but she had some spare stuff - she knew from experience you could get a flat if you
could fix the power. Two hours later, lights buzzed on in the building, and the guy came out
of his room to pay her, looking pleased.
"Beaut. Didn't think you could do it, straight up, damn thing looked beat, but it's working.."
He handed over the cash, as a few squatters wandered out of their rooms to yell a thanks
down the stairs. A buck was damn good for getting someone to hook up power - and getting
it at all probably made them among the only squatters in the city with power.
"Welcome!" She yelled. It was almost as rare to find a block where you could get everyone
to pitch in for your payoff. She settled in all you could with as little stuff as she had, and
spent the night checking out the city, then catching a couple of hours sleep, gulping down
some milk for a substitute breakfast. Seizures tended to come more if she was low on food
for a few months. She headed straight for work, arriving ten minutes early.
Mac was just unlocking the door as she arrived. Good, he thought with surprise. She's early.
Seeming to read his thoughts, she grinned at him. "Don't get used to it." He laughed.
"Wasn't planning to."
The day was uneventful. As Max had expected, she wasn't trusted with anything valuable as
yet, but was charged with cleaning and organising the shop. Two weeks later, Max was
actually beginning to get bored. Wasn't this some kind of record? Two weeks without
someone stuffing up her life totally? Duncan Macleod - or Mac, as she'd come to call him,
was a decent boss, and she'd made some friends within her block. She hadn't called Logan -
they had agreed not to contact each other except in emergencies. She'd also gotten to know a
few frequent visitors to the shop, friends of Mac - some guy called Adam Pierson, and a
Richie Ryan. Richie was all right; about Logan's age - that stung - and easygoing.
But that Adam guy...she liked him, sure, but something was weird about him. For one thing,
he was pretty good at either eluding you or tailing you when he felt like it - not as good as
her, of course, but still, very good for a norm. And he joked about things that had happened
thousands of years ago like he'd been there. That was normal enough, but Max had watched
him carefully one time when he'd said something like that, and his eyes were so serious...she
was a very good judge of liars, or jokers, and she knew when someone was joking about
something fabulous that they alone knew was true. Looking exactly how she and her siblings
did, when they went to throw someone off about their pasts by telling the truth. But
thousands of years old? She wouldn't have put it past Manticore to manage to make someone
like that, but Manticore wasn't there thousands of years ago. All she could think of was a
mission she hadn't dared even think about since it happened. One on some people called
Immortals. She kept a close watch on him - hopefully without his notice. He knew much
more than he was letting on, at least to her.
Methos...
Bloody Hannah Ruscen. She was badgering him day and night about whatever seemed to
come into her head - it was as if she suspected him of something. But why me? He thought
ironically. I'm only a legendary immortal that's not even supposed to exist, posing as a
Watcher and breaking Watcher laws right and left. Why would you suspect me? Maybe he'd
pull out of the Watchers for awhile. Have Adam Pierson die dramatically and go get
reacquainted with Nebraska. Or, better yet, have Adam Pierson die dramatically and come
back to life...now that was an idea. Have the Watchers get their very own reluctant Immortal,
young, inexperienced. They'd love it, he was sure. Mac could "train" him - he half-winced,
half-laughed. Those sessions were bound to be...interesting... - if he could get Mac away
from that shop. He worked most days...but hadn't he just gotten some new kid? Yeah...Anna
or something. She was quite pretty, but had a funny look in her eyes that he recognised at
once. She had seen a lot, for someone as young as her, and none of it good. She also seemed
fairly smart - she knew about as much of history as you could without ...well, without being
Immortal, and he had to respect that. And he'd gotten the shock of this particular life when
he'd switched to a half-died out, little known Indian dialect to talk to Mac, and she'd said
coolly, without even an accent that he would have to find another language if he wanted to
talk without her understanding. Mac hadn't even looked surprised, but commented when they
found a language that she didn't know - an ancient strain of Greek - that she was a bit of an
enigma. Finding out she spoke one of the obscurest Indian dialects in existence was only
worth a raising of the eyebrows, after the last two weeks. Something about her picking out
six excellent fakes in his collection, amongst other things. He sighed. An enigma, Mac had
said. So he wouldn't mind seeing her in a bikini. She was still Mac's fucking enigma, and
she would stay his, as far as he was concerned.
****
A/N: OK, snigger now everybody. Definitely Methos' fucking enigma by the time I'm
through with him.
****
Max rolled out of the mattress she'd bought the other day. Four am, and she'd only gotten
home at two. Ah well, she'd take a run and find somewhere to get breakfast before going to
work. Swinging past the shop without even noticing, she saw a figure crawling through a
window - concealed to any other passer-by, but not one with Max's eyes. She ran lightly
towards him, and managed to yank the surprised intruder out by his jacket. She gasped in
surprise as she saw his face.
"Zack?!"
"Max!"
"What the hell are you doing here, robbing my shop?"
"Your shop?"
"OK, I work here. So? Why're you here, big brother?"
"Got paid to find a certain old statue and buy it." He jerked his head towards the shop. "This
guy's got it, so I figured I'd keep the cash and nick the statue." Max shook her head sadly.
"Really, Zack, is this what you're coming to? I'm so disappointed in you." She said, mock-
unhappy. He gave her a rare grin.
"How're you settling in?"
"It's cool. I got a place, job here pays ok, some friends in my block. Not even seeing any of
my 'old friends' till today." She added sarcastically.
"Good. Now can I go steal that statue?" She glared.
"No. You're buying it, mate, and that's the price you're paying for telling me off about
stealing after I got out." He rolled his eyes and checked his watch. "When's this place open?"
Max checked hers too. "Half an hour. You'll live - sometimes the owner's here early
anyway."
As it happened, the owner was around the other side of the shop, listening to every word that
he could manage to hear. Duncan had come early to fix a broken light, and heard' Anna'
finding the intruder as he was about to unlock the back door. Anna had become somewhat of
a mystery to him; one he would be just as happy to never unfold, but he was still curious. So,
Anna had a brother, his name was Zack...and he called her Max. They'd both been thieves
for at least awhile; Anna had had to 'get out' of somewhere. He shook his head. He had more
questions now than he had started with. He walked up the stairs, since the exchange between
Anna and 'Zack' seemed over, and unlocked the back door. Out the front, Max turned to
Zack and said
"See? He'll open the front in a minute so I can come in. He isn't going to mind an early
purchase. By the way, I'm Anna Paulsen." Zack rolled his eyes and followed her in after
Duncan unlocked the door, still wondering about Anna.
"Good morning." He said, sounding a little surprised to see her so early. "Who's this?" After
all, Anna hadn't brought anyone to the shop before.
"Oh, this is Sam, a friend. He's after an old statue he heard was here." Max said innocently.
She's an excellent liar, Mac had to concede. I couldn't have picked it. It took less than ten
minutes to find the desired statue, and Zack paid up grumpily, then left. The day went by
with no more excitement, but that night at Joe's bar, Mac told Joe and Methos about what
he'd heard. Joe was puzzled; Methos wanted to make it very clear that it wasn't his problem
and he'd like it to stay that way...
"Just leave me out of this, okay?"
"Methos, deal, okay? You get me one more big thing about Anna Paulsen or tail her around
for a week, and I'll leave you out of it completely." Methos' face turned dark.
"When I say leave me out, I mean I want nothing to do with it!" Mac tried to calm him.
"Nothing but this, Adam." He asked, looking at Methos levelly.
"Nothing?"
"Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Nil." Unless you happen to wish to investigate yourself...and if she
hasn't got you interested after a week, I'll personally go after the person who stole the
Methos I know and get you back.
"Good. Shout me a round three nights a week for a month and I might even do it." Should've
known that was coming, Mac thought ruefully.
"Deal."
"Deal, then." They shook hands, Methos still looking sour. Should've known he'd get me
involved somehow. I'll bet I'm interested after two days, too. Annoying bugger he is. Can't
leave the poor girl and her secrets alone. She's dealt with them for what, 19 years? She can
manage them for a few more. Well, I'll start on her tomorrow.
"Got her address?"
"Yeah; she's squatting in about the only block in the city that has power." He grinned.
"Apparently someone in there's a whiz with a switchboard, nicked the power from one of the
big buildings, fixed it so they wouldn't -" Methos cut him off. "Yeah, yeah, I know where
that is. Week starts tomorrow."
*~*~*~*
The next day, 5am, Max's apartment.
*~*~*~*
Methos peered in carefully. Max's bike was gone; apparently, so was Max. Mildly surprised,
Methos raised his eyebrows. Well, he could get just as much from an empty apartment as a
full one. After carefully checking that he wouldn't be surprised by a sudden return, he
jumped through the window and began to go through her things. Let's see...plenty of food in
the fridge... but that's not hard if you know where to go. Not much furnishing...a few photos,
couple of people I haven't seen before; probably from wherever she left. Hmm. Tryptophan;
amino acid, diet supplement. That's more like something you'd find with someone rich; that
could afford to waste money like that. He considered. People with drug problems can get
deficiencies this stuff could help. Maybe that's it. (A/N: That's a rough guess. I only know
ecstasy users have problems with low serotonin levels. The pictures 'from wherever she left'
are fakes to lead off anyone watching her. She only has a tiny photo of Cindy, Kendra and
Logan in her wallet.) If she was a junkie, it'd explain any weird behaviour or hints of a rough
history. But something doesn't add up. She looks very fit; healthy - two weeks isn't much, but
Mac hasn't so much as seen her sneeze. Doesn't match to a former junkie - and that wouldn't
be so long ago, she can't be over twenty. Not much recovery time.
What'd Mac hear this morning? That she'd stolen for awhile, once, and her brother was
called Zack...and he called her Max? Maybe it was just a nickname. But if she was a
thief...old habits die hard. Something might be here.
He rummaged through her bag, careful not to disturb much, and after much looking,
discovered a compartment in the bottom. He nearly got stabbed with many small, poisoned
blades trying to get through its lock, but Immortality did have its benefits there. Jackpot! He
thought triumphantly. A nice gun, some ammo. Several knives. Shit, but this looked like a
Mafia's arsenal. A nice set of picks, rope, small black bag, and several other tools he
recognised, as well as some he did not, that were all obviously well-used and taken care
for...and unless she was a government agent (he snorted at that idea), all pretty suspicious.
Well, hopefully this will do for Mac's 'big thing' on Anna. He quickly sealed up the
compartment and re-attached the locks, exiting via the window. He couldn't risk shutting it,
he realised, checking his watch. He could hear a motorbike getting closer, and Anna was due
back soon. She probably wouldn't even notice it, though he disliked sloppy work. He left
quickly, intending to tell Mac all about this before he got too intrigued.
Max walked her baby into her apartment slowly. Something felt wrong. She thought some
things had been moved around - little things, like a note on the table being around the wrong
way - like someone had been through her apartment, but was smart enough to put everything
back. Might work on a norm memory, she thought. Not mine. Then she noticed the window
was slightly open. Now, even a norm might notice that. She thought, disgusted. At least she
knew her watcher wasn't Manticore; anyone from there would be barely noticeable. Maybe
unnoticeable. So, who? She wondered. She ticked off the people she knew here. A Manticore
would be insulted if you suggested he so much as left her jumper the other way around.
Jacqui, Tim, Karrie, all live here. No reason to bother - Karrie has already seen all my stuff,
Jacqui only talks to me when she wants help with something, Tim's so blunt that if he wanted
to know something, he'd just ask. Mac, Zack. Wonderful; they rhyme, she thought
sarcastically. Zack wouldn't be so stupid as to leave the window open. He mightn't bother
replacing my stuff exactly because I'd know he was here anyway, but leaving the window
would probably offend him. That left only Mac. Hell, what would he want? She knew he was
curious about her; he wasn't bad at hiding it, but he was no X5. Max frowned. It must be him
- no one else left. Well, mate, time to turn the tables. How's about I tail you 'round for a bit?
Most people, she had found, only went after other people's secrets when they had some of
their own. Anyone else had enough sense to see that if someone didn't tell you something,
they didn't tell you cause you shouldn't know. Secrets were only trouble.
She ate a quick dinner and headed around to Mac's house. She had his address and number in
case of a break in or something while he wasn't there. She carefully made her way towards a
lit window, keeping herself well hidden, and listened..
"Heading round to Joe's now?" A voice asked...that was some Adam Pierson guy, she
remembered. He'd come round to the shop a few times.
"Yeah. Oh, did you get anything on Anna?" Max's stomach dropped about a foot. What the
hell?
"Checked out her apartment; she wasn't there. This'd better suffice for a big thing, anyway."
Mac leaned forward eagerly - Max didn't have to see that to know it.
"What?"
"She's got a nice little automatic with some ammo, bunch of picks, knives...kind of stuff
you'd see with quite an elite thief, to be honest. Or someone with a few people after her that
she can't be caught by."
"What's with the picks, then?"
"Where do you think my emergency funds come from, Mac?"
"Oh, right. I figured you'd just have huge accounts building up interest."
"Of course I do. And how am I supposed to withdraw it when it's an emergency?"
"Okay then...going to Joe's now?"
"Yeah, let's get out of here. Is that enough for you?!"
"Yeah, yeah yeah. How much to find out some more?"
Max had frozen when the other man started cataloguing her 'equipment'. He'd missed her
best set of picks which stayed with her, and three guns with ammo - two were stored in the
wall, one on her. A bit of wall plaster wasn't really any barrier to her when she was panicky.
And now the man wanted him to find out some more! Sweet Jesus Christ, she was not
moving again, if she had to kill them both. Fuck, she wasn't moving if she had to kill half the
bloody city.
"Nothing, because I'm not." Hope returned.
"Come on, man, can't tell me you aren't interested."
"Mac, the girl hasn't got half a dozen well-cared for knives, a set of good picks, gun and all
the rest because she can't use them. I've learned my lesson with prying into other people's
secrets."
"Oh really?"
"Yes. She isn't plastering her life story all over the city for a reason Mac, and I'm thinking
it's the same as why I'm not plastering mine and my true name across the city."
"What, because it'd mean hauling out all of your damned diaries?"
"All five hundred of them, and the fact that I don't like the idea of dying particularly."
Five hundred? thought Max incredulously. Must be just exaggerating. But people don't
usually say five hundred ...more like a million or something. A small voice niggled. OK,
what is he, Immortal, then? Her breath caught as she considered it. It was possible. The
damned things were everywhere, from what she'd heard, and it'd make the whole curiosity
and 500 diaries plausible. Well, track 'em tonight and see what happens. Maybe I'll hear a
familiar name, or catch a watcher.
The two men were leaving, and she left as soon as they were gone, heading to the bar. She
knew a few shortcuts - with some luck, she could beat them, making it appear she wasn't
following them. Basic tactics.
She allowed herself full speed; not so dangerous when dodging through deserted back streets
and alleys. Not nearly as dangerous as a couple of norms determined to figure out what she
was up to, anyway.
She managed the bar without Mac's car in sight, thank God, and went up to order a beer.
****
Mac
****
Macloud's head was spinning. Okay, he knew there was something off about Anna, but this
was a bit much. How could Methos pretend he wasn't interested? And he was pretending. No
one couldn't be interested; Methos least of all. What the hell could she be doing...? He was
jolted out of his thoughts by Methos talking.
"Watch your back for a few days, Mac. She's obviously a fair hand with a knife or a gun, and
she'll know how to get around without being seen. If she notices things out of place - which
is possible, although I doubt it," Methos decided prudently to leave the bit about the open
window out. "She'll probably be on your tail soon enough." He advised, unaware of how true
his words were.
"Right. You should, too."
They had arrived at Joe's, and got out, Methos leading in. He suddenly coughed, and Mac
wondered at the cause. Something must've surprised the old man.
"Me-" Mac began, but the sight of Anna talking comfortably to Joe, over a half-downed glass
of beer, silenced him.
"Well, seems your prime suspect now knows Joe." Methos commented blandly.
"Shut up." Mac told him, as they walked over to the pair.
"Hey," Methos said. "Anna, right?" he asked. Max smiled. "Yeah, that's me. You're Adam,
right?"
"The first man," Mac interjected. Joe laughed, and Adam hit him lightly, shaking his head at
Max. "Inside joke. I'm not that old!" He glared at Mac.
"Right, sure." Max said blandly. "I believe you." She was actually trying to mask surprise.
Joe had lifted his hand to wave to the two men, and she caught a glimpse of a Watcher tattoo.
Seems one off guess was a little more accurate than I thought. Now, all I have to do is watch
for that stiffening they get every so often, when they sense another of theirs. Easy as pie.
Dealing with it if her hunch was right would be trickier. She groaned inwardly as she thought
about it. Much trickier.
Adam was grumbling about stupid people and tired jokes, all the while sculling a beer. How
you wrangled that she wasn't sure, but he seemed to be managing.
"Easy, Adam," Joe said laughingly. "You aren't drinking me out of my bar again." He
pointed at the man, mock-angry. "Beer is water to the man!" Max just raised her eyebrows. If
he had that Immortal healing factor, he'd be a challenge for her she hadn't had since she last
saw Zack.
"Joe, I think there may be several bars empty after we're done." She gestured to herself and
Adam. "Bet I can take more than you can." He grinned. "You're on. I should warn you, I
haven't found anyone a challenge for a year now." She grinned back, mischievously.
"Neither have I."
Joe just groaned. "Well, you're both going to pay." Max smiled innocently. "Wouldn't have
it any other way. Dutch treat." Adam nodded, if a little reluctantly.
"No pouring it on the ground. If you can't hold it steady, get Mac to."
"No passing out and reviving. Out for more than ten seconds, and you're gone." They
nodded, for all the world as if they were commanders on different sides of a war, Joe
thought, and began to scull their first beers. He had to pity the woman. She'd have the kind
of hangover you got...well, the kind of hangover you got after drinking with Methos.
Fifteen beers later, they were both still mostly sober, and Joe and Mac both were startled.
Anna might be a little ...different, but that wouldn't affect the amount she could drink much.
But she was keeping up with Methos, after fifteen beers, and now they were both demanding
spirits.
An hour later, and they had a full audience. The regulars knew how much Methos could
drink, and they always watched when someone tried to beat him. To their surprise, this
particular someone seemed to have a chance - and a woman, too! Methos was feeling mildly
surprised - although, if he'd been sober, he would've been in mild shock. The girl was
keeping up...he downed another vodka, and felt things begin to go a little blurry.
Max downed her vodka without a cough or sway. Things had gone blurry a few glasses ago,
but damn it, no one was beating X5-452. She was the best drinker out of all the X5's, and no
mere norm, immortal norm or not, was going to be better than them. She hung onto focus for
grim death.
Forty minutes later, and they were almost had it. Both were lurching; neither could remember
if they'd thrown up yet, but it seemed likely. A thought wandered towards Max; she tried to
figure out what it was again...yeah, if a policemen breath-tested them right now, both of them
would be rightfully dead eleven times over...she felt herself vaguely slipping into somewhere
nice, and dark, and renewed her grip on the bar. No kidding, this guy had to be Immortal. No
one held his drink with her.
Methos blinked unsteadily. The nice dark place was right nearby...hell, what was wrong with
this woman? Methos could drink more than any other person he'd met and it was staying that
way.
They struggled heroically to remain conscious for all of five minutes, when Adam slumped
down in mindless defeat. One minute later, Max smiled woozily - the fact that Adam was out
had finally penetrated.
************
Methos woke up with a groan. Immortal healing was all well and good for bullets, but
enough alcohol to kill you several times over buggered it a bit. In short, his hangover wasn't
receding very fast. He pulled himself up with another groan and lurched over to the medicine
cabinet, checking the time. 8:40am. He gulped every Panadeine Forte he could find, and
stumbled back to bed, grabbing the phone on the way. If that little bitch that beat him in a
drinking competition - which hadn't happened in three and a half thousand years! - and had
made it to work on time, he was going to cut off his own head. Maybe then it would stop
aching.
Naah.
************
Max rolled out of bed, trying to see through the mind-shaking headache and nausea that were
threatening to overwhelm her. 8:00, I have time, but what did I do?! She asked herself. I'm
never this...oh, yeah. Bloody friend of Mac's, drinking more than any normal human has a
right to...suddenly, she choked, and it was only thirty percent because of the bile rising in her
throat. Any normal human... she realised. I think I've got my Immortal. Or one of them,
anyway. Mac could be, easy.
She staggered over to her suitcase, and managed to shower and dress. The shower helped
clear her head, but she wished she had some painkillers. Getting soft, Maxie? Zack's silent
voice teased her. I'm not actually taking them, damn it! She yelled back at it, the stray
thought that the first sign of madness was talking to yourself springing to mind. She brushed
her hair and teeth, thanking the Manticore scientists for at least doing whatever they did to
keep her eyes from being too bloodshot, or herself from dying of hangover, walked out the
door and rode her baby to Mac's shop.
She was leaning against the door when he arrived, five minutes late. She shook an aching
finger at his astonished look. Undoubtably surprised I'm not dead of hangover.
"You're late. Can I sack you?"
"No. But for making it to work on time after beating M-Adam in a drinking competition, it
might just be possible." He said, still sounding surprised. She noted the slip on Adam's
name. Freudian slip?
"Thank you so much. Now, can I have his phone number so I can kill him for getting me into
this?"
"I'd say feel free, but I'm sure he'll call the shop soon to groan. He doesn't get beaten too
often."
"I'll bet." She muttered. "Groan to me and he's getting an earful of Original Cindy." She
added under her breath. Sure enough, a few minutes after they got into the shop, the phone
rang. Mac put it on speaker, grinning at Max.
"Mac, tell me that girl isn't at work this morning." A voice rasped.
"Good morning sunshine! It's Anna here. You don't sound so good. Are you feeling sick?"
Max asked, managing a sugar-sweet voice despite her terminally numbed brain. Her only
response of fluent swearing in several languages; some that even she didn't recognise, a
groan and the words "Mac, I think I may just cut off my head. To stop the aching. So if you
don't see me for a few weeks, you'll know what happened." Then there was silence. Mac lost
his battle with trying to hold in his laughter. "Shut up!" Methos groaned, and Max shoved
him into the ground reasonably hard, muttering into the phone "OK, fine, I feel just as shitty
as you do. You'll be happy to know that Mac is now struggling up from the floor, hopefully
with a broken nose."
Methos rolled over and closed his eyes. Well. Maybe she was at work, maybe she wasn't, his
head ached too much to remember. But one thing was certain in his foggy brain - she'd
broken Mac's nose when he wanted to, but couldn't. For that, he could forgive a lot.
Max jabbed the end call button grumpily as Mac got up, unsuccessfully trying to cover his
bleeding nose. Good, she thought. I got him. Suddenly, she focussed on his nose. Blue
sparks...and now no broken nose. She caught Mac's look of panic as she stared at him. Great
covert work, Max. She covered quickly,
"A nosebleed?! You aren't getting off that lightly!" she cried in mock-anger, backhanding
him lightly, and saw him relax. The rest of the day was quite normal, although Duncan
glanced at her a little uneasily when he thought she wasn't looking.
Considering I have never seen Highlander, I ask you to be nice! There's like a whole page of
me explaining things, so sorry about that. It's pretty much AU.
Dark Angel pplz:
Max escaped in '13 because she wasn't with the others when they got out, someone else,
maybe Jondy, started shaking and so Zack had to get them out. Max left in BBWW, and she's
a bit more obedient to Zack than before, plus I'm thinking that she uses guns, but only when
desperate. Tell me if you think I should change that. She's not in much contact with Logan;
they might get together, I really don't know. But Zack and Max definitely won't be together,
sorry. Max was sent on a mission at, I don't know, 12 or so, to find out the Watchers. She
covered them up, made them out to be wackos, and she won't recognise anyone or be
recognised but knows about Immortals.
For those who haven't seen Highlander:
Highlander is a show about Duncan Macleod, Adam Pierson (aka Methos), and some others
but I'm not using them here. They are immortal; they can't die short of losing their head, and
then their life and power go into their killer (that's a 'Quickening'). All wounds heal with
blue sparks, within seconds usually, longer depending on how bad. Some immortals are
peaceful, some 'headhunters' go around 'challenging' others to a fight to the death, so they
can gain their power. These duels are fought with swords, and have rules like, never fight on
holy ground, no interference, only swords etc, serious consequences if disobeyed. 'Methos' is
a legendary immortal 5000 years old. Whenever word gets out he's still alive, he's
headhunted. 'Watchers' are an organisation that formed to keep an eye on Immortals, record
their lives but are not supposed to interfere, or even speak to them. Immortals aren't really
supposed to know about Watchers, but Methos is posing as the head Watcher researcher of
the Methos project LOL.
For those who haven't seen Dark Angel:
It's 2020. Max is a 19yo genetically engineered soldier created by the US government. She's
known to them as an X5 - her designation, X5-452. There are different groups of the soldiers,
X1, X2 etc but because of the bad engineering, some groups are all dead or mutated. Max's
group mostly aren't, she has a series of 'brothers and sisters' as they call each other. Zack is
one, he's the overprotective big brother that's pretty military. OK, this training place where
they were made is called Manticore, it's totally top-secret and the kind of training they got
was like torture - eg breaking bones to see how fast they heal, and other evil stuff. Making
them hunt and kill people. The free brothers and sisters escaped in 2009; she did in 2013.
Max moved to Seattle about 2 years ago, and made some friends, got a job. She also met
Logan Cale, known as Eyes Only to the rest of the world - a hacker who does TV broadcasts
with evidence against criminals, sometimes killing them and sometimes getting them jailed.
Max used to help him often, now it's less frequent.
OK!! Now that I've bored you to tears, on with the story already...
***** Washington DC, 2020 *****
Max glanced around a little as she rode her baby down the street. She was looking for work -
arrived in Washington yesterday and already relishing the slightly better conditions. Seattle
had been a bit of a hole before the Pulse - and it was harder hit by the Pulse than most cities
anyway. Suddenly she did a bit of a double take. There was work available in a shop across
the street. She swerved the bike around to park, giving the finger to the various drivers pissed
off at her sudden move, and checked out the shop. Antiques...well, that was okay, she
thought. She had done a fair bit of study on them for a mission when she was eleven, so at
least she knew her stuff - that was probably pretty rare.
Walking into the shop, she took in the surroundings, and noticed a man behind the counter at
the back.
"Hey." She called, and he looked up. "Yes?"
"I'm here about the job available. Taken yet?"
"Had a few applicants, but I want someone who knows something about antiques." He added
the last bit pointedly. Perfect, Max thought.
"I do." He looked mildly surprised and sceptical.
"Okay, tell me what this is then?" He gestured to a statue, and Max gave him the lowdown.
He quizzed her on two more before nodding, seeming satisfied. "It's eight to six-thirty
weekdays, nine to six-thirty Saturdays, and ten to five Sundays. Pay's on the notice; doubt
you'd miss that. Normal clothes, nick the stuff, make a habit of coming in drunk or fairly late
and you're fired - the usual. When can you start?"
"Tomorrow?"
"Good. I'll want a name, phone number, address?" Time to start obeying Zackie, she thought
morosely. Goodbye, Max Guevara from Seattle, who "doesn't have a fucking phone number,
this is post-Pulse idiot!"
"Anna Paulsen, beeper's 34916829, I'm staying with a friend for a few days so no addy as
yet."
"Right. Got a criminal record?" He grinned.
"Yeah, I'm a genetically engineered escapee from a government military facility on the run.
Also a murderer and thief, last job working for Eyes Only." She said deadpan, then grinned
back at the man whose grin had momentarily frozen. "Couple of parking tickets."
"Tomorrow, then."
"Tomorrow."
She walked out and got back on her baby, now cruising for a flat - or somewhere to live. She
had a bag with a few changes of clothes, money, tryptophan and some...tools. *wink wink
nudge nudge*. She found a likely-looking building and walked in. A guy was just coming
out, and she asked him "Hey, you live here?"
"Yeah, what?"
"What's it take to move in? Anywhere free?"
"Second floor's clear for squatters, two flats. You gotta pitch for this month's payoff
though."
"How much?"
"20 bucks per place. Need it tonight." Max winced. Couldn't spare that much.
"Can't do that. How many in this place?"
"'Bout fifteen, twenty full flats."
"Got electricity? Gas?"
"Whaddaya think we are, Buckingham Palace?"
"I can hook it up, no charge if everyone'll pitch in for me this month."
He looked thoughtful. "Well, we all need it. I'll pass word round. Come with me."
"Thanks." She followed him as they went knocking for it.
"Oi. Jackie." He yelled. A black woman opened the door, looking pissed. "Oh, you. What is
it?" He jerked his head towards Max. "She can hook up the gas if everyone pitches in a buck
for her payoff this month."
"She good for it?"
"She's putting it through before she gets a dollar." Max cut in. "He's taking the money and
paying the bribe for me. If it fucks up too much, I'm out."
"Deal." The woman stuffed a dollar note into the man's hand. They went round to the other
flats, and it was the same. Hook it up first; then the guy would give her the money.
"It's a pretty good lot round here, ya know." He said to Max as they walked.
"Not too much stealing, a few gangs give us a hit but we got some big guys - and not much to
pay them - so we're all right. Good people, too, ya know what I mean?"
"Yeah."
"Gotta warn ya, you'll be out if you're getting us down."
"I'll be a good girl." She replied sarcastically. He just laughed. "Sure sure."
After collecting from everyone, he led her to the old power board.
"Where's your flat?" She asked him, and he indicated it.
"I'll knock when I'm done. Knowing these things it'll take awhile.
"You hooked power up in somewhere like this before?"
"Mate, it's how I get my first payoff." He nodded and went back to his flat. Max pulled out
her tools and went to work. It was old and everything was pretty much rotting, was the main
problem, but she had some spare stuff - she knew from experience you could get a flat if you
could fix the power. Two hours later, lights buzzed on in the building, and the guy came out
of his room to pay her, looking pleased.
"Beaut. Didn't think you could do it, straight up, damn thing looked beat, but it's working.."
He handed over the cash, as a few squatters wandered out of their rooms to yell a thanks
down the stairs. A buck was damn good for getting someone to hook up power - and getting
it at all probably made them among the only squatters in the city with power.
"Welcome!" She yelled. It was almost as rare to find a block where you could get everyone
to pitch in for your payoff. She settled in all you could with as little stuff as she had, and
spent the night checking out the city, then catching a couple of hours sleep, gulping down
some milk for a substitute breakfast. Seizures tended to come more if she was low on food
for a few months. She headed straight for work, arriving ten minutes early.
Mac was just unlocking the door as she arrived. Good, he thought with surprise. She's early.
Seeming to read his thoughts, she grinned at him. "Don't get used to it." He laughed.
"Wasn't planning to."
The day was uneventful. As Max had expected, she wasn't trusted with anything valuable as
yet, but was charged with cleaning and organising the shop. Two weeks later, Max was
actually beginning to get bored. Wasn't this some kind of record? Two weeks without
someone stuffing up her life totally? Duncan Macleod - or Mac, as she'd come to call him,
was a decent boss, and she'd made some friends within her block. She hadn't called Logan -
they had agreed not to contact each other except in emergencies. She'd also gotten to know a
few frequent visitors to the shop, friends of Mac - some guy called Adam Pierson, and a
Richie Ryan. Richie was all right; about Logan's age - that stung - and easygoing.
But that Adam guy...she liked him, sure, but something was weird about him. For one thing,
he was pretty good at either eluding you or tailing you when he felt like it - not as good as
her, of course, but still, very good for a norm. And he joked about things that had happened
thousands of years ago like he'd been there. That was normal enough, but Max had watched
him carefully one time when he'd said something like that, and his eyes were so serious...she
was a very good judge of liars, or jokers, and she knew when someone was joking about
something fabulous that they alone knew was true. Looking exactly how she and her siblings
did, when they went to throw someone off about their pasts by telling the truth. But
thousands of years old? She wouldn't have put it past Manticore to manage to make someone
like that, but Manticore wasn't there thousands of years ago. All she could think of was a
mission she hadn't dared even think about since it happened. One on some people called
Immortals. She kept a close watch on him - hopefully without his notice. He knew much
more than he was letting on, at least to her.
Methos...
Bloody Hannah Ruscen. She was badgering him day and night about whatever seemed to
come into her head - it was as if she suspected him of something. But why me? He thought
ironically. I'm only a legendary immortal that's not even supposed to exist, posing as a
Watcher and breaking Watcher laws right and left. Why would you suspect me? Maybe he'd
pull out of the Watchers for awhile. Have Adam Pierson die dramatically and go get
reacquainted with Nebraska. Or, better yet, have Adam Pierson die dramatically and come
back to life...now that was an idea. Have the Watchers get their very own reluctant Immortal,
young, inexperienced. They'd love it, he was sure. Mac could "train" him - he half-winced,
half-laughed. Those sessions were bound to be...interesting... - if he could get Mac away
from that shop. He worked most days...but hadn't he just gotten some new kid? Yeah...Anna
or something. She was quite pretty, but had a funny look in her eyes that he recognised at
once. She had seen a lot, for someone as young as her, and none of it good. She also seemed
fairly smart - she knew about as much of history as you could without ...well, without being
Immortal, and he had to respect that. And he'd gotten the shock of this particular life when
he'd switched to a half-died out, little known Indian dialect to talk to Mac, and she'd said
coolly, without even an accent that he would have to find another language if he wanted to
talk without her understanding. Mac hadn't even looked surprised, but commented when they
found a language that she didn't know - an ancient strain of Greek - that she was a bit of an
enigma. Finding out she spoke one of the obscurest Indian dialects in existence was only
worth a raising of the eyebrows, after the last two weeks. Something about her picking out
six excellent fakes in his collection, amongst other things. He sighed. An enigma, Mac had
said. So he wouldn't mind seeing her in a bikini. She was still Mac's fucking enigma, and
she would stay his, as far as he was concerned.
****
A/N: OK, snigger now everybody. Definitely Methos' fucking enigma by the time I'm
through with him.
****
Max rolled out of the mattress she'd bought the other day. Four am, and she'd only gotten
home at two. Ah well, she'd take a run and find somewhere to get breakfast before going to
work. Swinging past the shop without even noticing, she saw a figure crawling through a
window - concealed to any other passer-by, but not one with Max's eyes. She ran lightly
towards him, and managed to yank the surprised intruder out by his jacket. She gasped in
surprise as she saw his face.
"Zack?!"
"Max!"
"What the hell are you doing here, robbing my shop?"
"Your shop?"
"OK, I work here. So? Why're you here, big brother?"
"Got paid to find a certain old statue and buy it." He jerked his head towards the shop. "This
guy's got it, so I figured I'd keep the cash and nick the statue." Max shook her head sadly.
"Really, Zack, is this what you're coming to? I'm so disappointed in you." She said, mock-
unhappy. He gave her a rare grin.
"How're you settling in?"
"It's cool. I got a place, job here pays ok, some friends in my block. Not even seeing any of
my 'old friends' till today." She added sarcastically.
"Good. Now can I go steal that statue?" She glared.
"No. You're buying it, mate, and that's the price you're paying for telling me off about
stealing after I got out." He rolled his eyes and checked his watch. "When's this place open?"
Max checked hers too. "Half an hour. You'll live - sometimes the owner's here early
anyway."
As it happened, the owner was around the other side of the shop, listening to every word that
he could manage to hear. Duncan had come early to fix a broken light, and heard' Anna'
finding the intruder as he was about to unlock the back door. Anna had become somewhat of
a mystery to him; one he would be just as happy to never unfold, but he was still curious. So,
Anna had a brother, his name was Zack...and he called her Max. They'd both been thieves
for at least awhile; Anna had had to 'get out' of somewhere. He shook his head. He had more
questions now than he had started with. He walked up the stairs, since the exchange between
Anna and 'Zack' seemed over, and unlocked the back door. Out the front, Max turned to
Zack and said
"See? He'll open the front in a minute so I can come in. He isn't going to mind an early
purchase. By the way, I'm Anna Paulsen." Zack rolled his eyes and followed her in after
Duncan unlocked the door, still wondering about Anna.
"Good morning." He said, sounding a little surprised to see her so early. "Who's this?" After
all, Anna hadn't brought anyone to the shop before.
"Oh, this is Sam, a friend. He's after an old statue he heard was here." Max said innocently.
She's an excellent liar, Mac had to concede. I couldn't have picked it. It took less than ten
minutes to find the desired statue, and Zack paid up grumpily, then left. The day went by
with no more excitement, but that night at Joe's bar, Mac told Joe and Methos about what
he'd heard. Joe was puzzled; Methos wanted to make it very clear that it wasn't his problem
and he'd like it to stay that way...
"Just leave me out of this, okay?"
"Methos, deal, okay? You get me one more big thing about Anna Paulsen or tail her around
for a week, and I'll leave you out of it completely." Methos' face turned dark.
"When I say leave me out, I mean I want nothing to do with it!" Mac tried to calm him.
"Nothing but this, Adam." He asked, looking at Methos levelly.
"Nothing?"
"Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Nil." Unless you happen to wish to investigate yourself...and if she
hasn't got you interested after a week, I'll personally go after the person who stole the
Methos I know and get you back.
"Good. Shout me a round three nights a week for a month and I might even do it." Should've
known that was coming, Mac thought ruefully.
"Deal."
"Deal, then." They shook hands, Methos still looking sour. Should've known he'd get me
involved somehow. I'll bet I'm interested after two days, too. Annoying bugger he is. Can't
leave the poor girl and her secrets alone. She's dealt with them for what, 19 years? She can
manage them for a few more. Well, I'll start on her tomorrow.
"Got her address?"
"Yeah; she's squatting in about the only block in the city that has power." He grinned.
"Apparently someone in there's a whiz with a switchboard, nicked the power from one of the
big buildings, fixed it so they wouldn't -" Methos cut him off. "Yeah, yeah, I know where
that is. Week starts tomorrow."
*~*~*~*
The next day, 5am, Max's apartment.
*~*~*~*
Methos peered in carefully. Max's bike was gone; apparently, so was Max. Mildly surprised,
Methos raised his eyebrows. Well, he could get just as much from an empty apartment as a
full one. After carefully checking that he wouldn't be surprised by a sudden return, he
jumped through the window and began to go through her things. Let's see...plenty of food in
the fridge... but that's not hard if you know where to go. Not much furnishing...a few photos,
couple of people I haven't seen before; probably from wherever she left. Hmm. Tryptophan;
amino acid, diet supplement. That's more like something you'd find with someone rich; that
could afford to waste money like that. He considered. People with drug problems can get
deficiencies this stuff could help. Maybe that's it. (A/N: That's a rough guess. I only know
ecstasy users have problems with low serotonin levels. The pictures 'from wherever she left'
are fakes to lead off anyone watching her. She only has a tiny photo of Cindy, Kendra and
Logan in her wallet.) If she was a junkie, it'd explain any weird behaviour or hints of a rough
history. But something doesn't add up. She looks very fit; healthy - two weeks isn't much, but
Mac hasn't so much as seen her sneeze. Doesn't match to a former junkie - and that wouldn't
be so long ago, she can't be over twenty. Not much recovery time.
What'd Mac hear this morning? That she'd stolen for awhile, once, and her brother was
called Zack...and he called her Max? Maybe it was just a nickname. But if she was a
thief...old habits die hard. Something might be here.
He rummaged through her bag, careful not to disturb much, and after much looking,
discovered a compartment in the bottom. He nearly got stabbed with many small, poisoned
blades trying to get through its lock, but Immortality did have its benefits there. Jackpot! He
thought triumphantly. A nice gun, some ammo. Several knives. Shit, but this looked like a
Mafia's arsenal. A nice set of picks, rope, small black bag, and several other tools he
recognised, as well as some he did not, that were all obviously well-used and taken care
for...and unless she was a government agent (he snorted at that idea), all pretty suspicious.
Well, hopefully this will do for Mac's 'big thing' on Anna. He quickly sealed up the
compartment and re-attached the locks, exiting via the window. He couldn't risk shutting it,
he realised, checking his watch. He could hear a motorbike getting closer, and Anna was due
back soon. She probably wouldn't even notice it, though he disliked sloppy work. He left
quickly, intending to tell Mac all about this before he got too intrigued.
Max walked her baby into her apartment slowly. Something felt wrong. She thought some
things had been moved around - little things, like a note on the table being around the wrong
way - like someone had been through her apartment, but was smart enough to put everything
back. Might work on a norm memory, she thought. Not mine. Then she noticed the window
was slightly open. Now, even a norm might notice that. She thought, disgusted. At least she
knew her watcher wasn't Manticore; anyone from there would be barely noticeable. Maybe
unnoticeable. So, who? She wondered. She ticked off the people she knew here. A Manticore
would be insulted if you suggested he so much as left her jumper the other way around.
Jacqui, Tim, Karrie, all live here. No reason to bother - Karrie has already seen all my stuff,
Jacqui only talks to me when she wants help with something, Tim's so blunt that if he wanted
to know something, he'd just ask. Mac, Zack. Wonderful; they rhyme, she thought
sarcastically. Zack wouldn't be so stupid as to leave the window open. He mightn't bother
replacing my stuff exactly because I'd know he was here anyway, but leaving the window
would probably offend him. That left only Mac. Hell, what would he want? She knew he was
curious about her; he wasn't bad at hiding it, but he was no X5. Max frowned. It must be him
- no one else left. Well, mate, time to turn the tables. How's about I tail you 'round for a bit?
Most people, she had found, only went after other people's secrets when they had some of
their own. Anyone else had enough sense to see that if someone didn't tell you something,
they didn't tell you cause you shouldn't know. Secrets were only trouble.
She ate a quick dinner and headed around to Mac's house. She had his address and number in
case of a break in or something while he wasn't there. She carefully made her way towards a
lit window, keeping herself well hidden, and listened..
"Heading round to Joe's now?" A voice asked...that was some Adam Pierson guy, she
remembered. He'd come round to the shop a few times.
"Yeah. Oh, did you get anything on Anna?" Max's stomach dropped about a foot. What the
hell?
"Checked out her apartment; she wasn't there. This'd better suffice for a big thing, anyway."
Mac leaned forward eagerly - Max didn't have to see that to know it.
"What?"
"She's got a nice little automatic with some ammo, bunch of picks, knives...kind of stuff
you'd see with quite an elite thief, to be honest. Or someone with a few people after her that
she can't be caught by."
"What's with the picks, then?"
"Where do you think my emergency funds come from, Mac?"
"Oh, right. I figured you'd just have huge accounts building up interest."
"Of course I do. And how am I supposed to withdraw it when it's an emergency?"
"Okay then...going to Joe's now?"
"Yeah, let's get out of here. Is that enough for you?!"
"Yeah, yeah yeah. How much to find out some more?"
Max had frozen when the other man started cataloguing her 'equipment'. He'd missed her
best set of picks which stayed with her, and three guns with ammo - two were stored in the
wall, one on her. A bit of wall plaster wasn't really any barrier to her when she was panicky.
And now the man wanted him to find out some more! Sweet Jesus Christ, she was not
moving again, if she had to kill them both. Fuck, she wasn't moving if she had to kill half the
bloody city.
"Nothing, because I'm not." Hope returned.
"Come on, man, can't tell me you aren't interested."
"Mac, the girl hasn't got half a dozen well-cared for knives, a set of good picks, gun and all
the rest because she can't use them. I've learned my lesson with prying into other people's
secrets."
"Oh really?"
"Yes. She isn't plastering her life story all over the city for a reason Mac, and I'm thinking
it's the same as why I'm not plastering mine and my true name across the city."
"What, because it'd mean hauling out all of your damned diaries?"
"All five hundred of them, and the fact that I don't like the idea of dying particularly."
Five hundred? thought Max incredulously. Must be just exaggerating. But people don't
usually say five hundred ...more like a million or something. A small voice niggled. OK,
what is he, Immortal, then? Her breath caught as she considered it. It was possible. The
damned things were everywhere, from what she'd heard, and it'd make the whole curiosity
and 500 diaries plausible. Well, track 'em tonight and see what happens. Maybe I'll hear a
familiar name, or catch a watcher.
The two men were leaving, and she left as soon as they were gone, heading to the bar. She
knew a few shortcuts - with some luck, she could beat them, making it appear she wasn't
following them. Basic tactics.
She allowed herself full speed; not so dangerous when dodging through deserted back streets
and alleys. Not nearly as dangerous as a couple of norms determined to figure out what she
was up to, anyway.
She managed the bar without Mac's car in sight, thank God, and went up to order a beer.
****
Mac
****
Macloud's head was spinning. Okay, he knew there was something off about Anna, but this
was a bit much. How could Methos pretend he wasn't interested? And he was pretending. No
one couldn't be interested; Methos least of all. What the hell could she be doing...? He was
jolted out of his thoughts by Methos talking.
"Watch your back for a few days, Mac. She's obviously a fair hand with a knife or a gun, and
she'll know how to get around without being seen. If she notices things out of place - which
is possible, although I doubt it," Methos decided prudently to leave the bit about the open
window out. "She'll probably be on your tail soon enough." He advised, unaware of how true
his words were.
"Right. You should, too."
They had arrived at Joe's, and got out, Methos leading in. He suddenly coughed, and Mac
wondered at the cause. Something must've surprised the old man.
"Me-" Mac began, but the sight of Anna talking comfortably to Joe, over a half-downed glass
of beer, silenced him.
"Well, seems your prime suspect now knows Joe." Methos commented blandly.
"Shut up." Mac told him, as they walked over to the pair.
"Hey," Methos said. "Anna, right?" he asked. Max smiled. "Yeah, that's me. You're Adam,
right?"
"The first man," Mac interjected. Joe laughed, and Adam hit him lightly, shaking his head at
Max. "Inside joke. I'm not that old!" He glared at Mac.
"Right, sure." Max said blandly. "I believe you." She was actually trying to mask surprise.
Joe had lifted his hand to wave to the two men, and she caught a glimpse of a Watcher tattoo.
Seems one off guess was a little more accurate than I thought. Now, all I have to do is watch
for that stiffening they get every so often, when they sense another of theirs. Easy as pie.
Dealing with it if her hunch was right would be trickier. She groaned inwardly as she thought
about it. Much trickier.
Adam was grumbling about stupid people and tired jokes, all the while sculling a beer. How
you wrangled that she wasn't sure, but he seemed to be managing.
"Easy, Adam," Joe said laughingly. "You aren't drinking me out of my bar again." He
pointed at the man, mock-angry. "Beer is water to the man!" Max just raised her eyebrows. If
he had that Immortal healing factor, he'd be a challenge for her she hadn't had since she last
saw Zack.
"Joe, I think there may be several bars empty after we're done." She gestured to herself and
Adam. "Bet I can take more than you can." He grinned. "You're on. I should warn you, I
haven't found anyone a challenge for a year now." She grinned back, mischievously.
"Neither have I."
Joe just groaned. "Well, you're both going to pay." Max smiled innocently. "Wouldn't have
it any other way. Dutch treat." Adam nodded, if a little reluctantly.
"No pouring it on the ground. If you can't hold it steady, get Mac to."
"No passing out and reviving. Out for more than ten seconds, and you're gone." They
nodded, for all the world as if they were commanders on different sides of a war, Joe
thought, and began to scull their first beers. He had to pity the woman. She'd have the kind
of hangover you got...well, the kind of hangover you got after drinking with Methos.
Fifteen beers later, they were both still mostly sober, and Joe and Mac both were startled.
Anna might be a little ...different, but that wouldn't affect the amount she could drink much.
But she was keeping up with Methos, after fifteen beers, and now they were both demanding
spirits.
An hour later, and they had a full audience. The regulars knew how much Methos could
drink, and they always watched when someone tried to beat him. To their surprise, this
particular someone seemed to have a chance - and a woman, too! Methos was feeling mildly
surprised - although, if he'd been sober, he would've been in mild shock. The girl was
keeping up...he downed another vodka, and felt things begin to go a little blurry.
Max downed her vodka without a cough or sway. Things had gone blurry a few glasses ago,
but damn it, no one was beating X5-452. She was the best drinker out of all the X5's, and no
mere norm, immortal norm or not, was going to be better than them. She hung onto focus for
grim death.
Forty minutes later, and they were almost had it. Both were lurching; neither could remember
if they'd thrown up yet, but it seemed likely. A thought wandered towards Max; she tried to
figure out what it was again...yeah, if a policemen breath-tested them right now, both of them
would be rightfully dead eleven times over...she felt herself vaguely slipping into somewhere
nice, and dark, and renewed her grip on the bar. No kidding, this guy had to be Immortal. No
one held his drink with her.
Methos blinked unsteadily. The nice dark place was right nearby...hell, what was wrong with
this woman? Methos could drink more than any other person he'd met and it was staying that
way.
They struggled heroically to remain conscious for all of five minutes, when Adam slumped
down in mindless defeat. One minute later, Max smiled woozily - the fact that Adam was out
had finally penetrated.
************
Methos woke up with a groan. Immortal healing was all well and good for bullets, but
enough alcohol to kill you several times over buggered it a bit. In short, his hangover wasn't
receding very fast. He pulled himself up with another groan and lurched over to the medicine
cabinet, checking the time. 8:40am. He gulped every Panadeine Forte he could find, and
stumbled back to bed, grabbing the phone on the way. If that little bitch that beat him in a
drinking competition - which hadn't happened in three and a half thousand years! - and had
made it to work on time, he was going to cut off his own head. Maybe then it would stop
aching.
Naah.
************
Max rolled out of bed, trying to see through the mind-shaking headache and nausea that were
threatening to overwhelm her. 8:00, I have time, but what did I do?! She asked herself. I'm
never this...oh, yeah. Bloody friend of Mac's, drinking more than any normal human has a
right to...suddenly, she choked, and it was only thirty percent because of the bile rising in her
throat. Any normal human... she realised. I think I've got my Immortal. Or one of them,
anyway. Mac could be, easy.
She staggered over to her suitcase, and managed to shower and dress. The shower helped
clear her head, but she wished she had some painkillers. Getting soft, Maxie? Zack's silent
voice teased her. I'm not actually taking them, damn it! She yelled back at it, the stray
thought that the first sign of madness was talking to yourself springing to mind. She brushed
her hair and teeth, thanking the Manticore scientists for at least doing whatever they did to
keep her eyes from being too bloodshot, or herself from dying of hangover, walked out the
door and rode her baby to Mac's shop.
She was leaning against the door when he arrived, five minutes late. She shook an aching
finger at his astonished look. Undoubtably surprised I'm not dead of hangover.
"You're late. Can I sack you?"
"No. But for making it to work on time after beating M-Adam in a drinking competition, it
might just be possible." He said, still sounding surprised. She noted the slip on Adam's
name. Freudian slip?
"Thank you so much. Now, can I have his phone number so I can kill him for getting me into
this?"
"I'd say feel free, but I'm sure he'll call the shop soon to groan. He doesn't get beaten too
often."
"I'll bet." She muttered. "Groan to me and he's getting an earful of Original Cindy." She
added under her breath. Sure enough, a few minutes after they got into the shop, the phone
rang. Mac put it on speaker, grinning at Max.
"Mac, tell me that girl isn't at work this morning." A voice rasped.
"Good morning sunshine! It's Anna here. You don't sound so good. Are you feeling sick?"
Max asked, managing a sugar-sweet voice despite her terminally numbed brain. Her only
response of fluent swearing in several languages; some that even she didn't recognise, a
groan and the words "Mac, I think I may just cut off my head. To stop the aching. So if you
don't see me for a few weeks, you'll know what happened." Then there was silence. Mac lost
his battle with trying to hold in his laughter. "Shut up!" Methos groaned, and Max shoved
him into the ground reasonably hard, muttering into the phone "OK, fine, I feel just as shitty
as you do. You'll be happy to know that Mac is now struggling up from the floor, hopefully
with a broken nose."
Methos rolled over and closed his eyes. Well. Maybe she was at work, maybe she wasn't, his
head ached too much to remember. But one thing was certain in his foggy brain - she'd
broken Mac's nose when he wanted to, but couldn't. For that, he could forgive a lot.
Max jabbed the end call button grumpily as Mac got up, unsuccessfully trying to cover his
bleeding nose. Good, she thought. I got him. Suddenly, she focussed on his nose. Blue
sparks...and now no broken nose. She caught Mac's look of panic as she stared at him. Great
covert work, Max. She covered quickly,
"A nosebleed?! You aren't getting off that lightly!" she cried in mock-anger, backhanding
him lightly, and saw him relax. The rest of the day was quite normal, although Duncan
glanced at her a little uneasily when he thought she wasn't looking.