The 5000 Year Old Man
It was a time past midnight that witnessed the gathering of the three Immortals Duncan MacLeod, Amanda, and Adam Pierson, known to a select few to be Methos, the Oldest Immortal.
They were sequestered around an out-of-the-way table at Joe's Bar, nursing some alcoholic drinks and were lost in their own thoughts.
Staring unseeingly at his own glass, Duncan MacLeod finally gave voice to his own, "To think that such beings live among the stars... I c'n hardly believe it."
"Get used to it Mac, they've been there your whole life." Methos inserted, snorting at the young (in this circle) Immortal's remaining incredulity. "You've seen them, after all – and killed it, never forget that."
Amanda glanced nervously from one to the other, worried about the possibility of another fight between the two; Duncan hadn't exactly reacted to the news of Methos' knowledge – and the denial of such for an extended period of time – and was likely still feeling somewhat betrayed by his friend.
The silence was charged with tension for at least a minute, the two male Immortals gazes locked in a battle of wills and conflicting thought processes – one the Champion, the other the Survivor. Duncan MacLeod's four hundred years of experience, of tenacity and force of will in the most dire of situations against the 5000 year old man, who conceded the victory likely through his own (comparatively recent) hatred of conflict.
"There is one thing that I need clearin' up though." Duncan muttered, having also lowered his eyes, partly out of shame of seeking conflict with his friend. He should know Methos' nature by now.
Amanda sat back on her seat with a sigh, fairly content in the knowledge that the two male egos were at least putting another clash on hold for the night – after all, they had gathered to lick their wounds and process all that had happened in Colorado Springs.
Methos, sprawled languidly over the straight-backed wooden chair, tilted his head and raised a questioning eyebrow.
Duncan elaborated, "The goa'uld were first kicked off Earth 10 000 years ago, yes?" MacLeod's dark eyes were pensive, his dark features drawn into a furrow as he stared at the long-nosed man across from him.
Methos' features were carefully expressionless as he observed MacLeod, "Yes, that's right."
"And yet you were there when it happened?" Duncan stared at his friend challengingly, trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on under the surface of his blank face.
"I am 5000 years old, MacLeod." Methos answered, and his voice brooked no argument.
"But-"
"I am 5000 years old, MacLeod – 'Methos, the 5000 year old Immortal' ring any bells?" His voice whipped across the table, carefully modulated so as to not carry to any of the mortals obliviously going about their evenings around them.
"Methos-"
"Stop, Duncan MacLeod." Methos demanded, his voice deepening into that dangerous tone that evoked things such as Death of the Four Horsemen. Now-golden eyes glared at the man across the table for a second, bearing the promise and memory of his vicious and bloody past before they slid closed, the man visibly reigning back his more cruel tendencies. Without saying a word, he vacated his chair and removed the trench coat from the back of it, slipping into it and walking to the door and out without uttering another word.
Duncan stared at the closed door in shock, the fact that the man's glass remained half-full not escaping him. Eventually, he turned back to Amanda, who remained shockingly unsurprised at the other Immortal's abrupt exit.
"Amanda, what's...?"
The woman's eyes locked on Duncan's, seeming to be thinking and more understanding than he had ever seen of the flighty, often manipulative although lovable Amanda.
She was silent for a long moment, and Duncan was much too concerned with still reeling from the oldest Immortal's exit to be demanding prompt answers.
"You know, Rebecca introduced me to Methos." She started, now staring at the mentioned Immortal's glass of whiskey, an unusual choice for the old man.
"What?" Duncan demanded, shocked. "Didn't I introduce...?"
Amanda shot him a reproving look, and he quieted. "Yes, Rebecca was the first to introduce me to Methos, the oldest immortal. Do you know how she introduced him to me?"
Duncan furrowed his brows, remaining silent but looking questioningly at his companion and sometimes bed partner.
Amanda looked into his eyes and quoted, her voice mimicking that of her past teacher's; "'This is Methos, the 5000 year old man.'"
Duncan's jaw dropped as he considered the implications.
Amanda slipped off the chair and gathered up her coat, staring into Duncan's eyes. As she turned to leave, she softly said; "Sometime, you'll learn that a title isn't something that is announced so freely, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod."
And with that, she gracefully exited the bar, leaving the last gaping Immortal with a heavy mind, and the tab.