Old Men should Look and Act Old

By PaBurke

Summary: Abby's really bad date has led to mind-blowing discoveries. The learning process has just begun.

Distribution: The Nook

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine, no infringement intended. Just play and more play.

Spoilers: HL and NCIS season three.

Rating: for language

AN: I considered this done at the last chapter, but my beta post it on as incomplete on purpose. Finally the reviewers asking for the next chapter jump started my muse.

Methos had tried to 'bump into' the new Immortal, but she had been holed up at her governmental laboratory for a while. He did do a bit of internet searching. He found out that the newbie's name was Abigail Sciuto. He wanted to just leave, since the girl was being difficult without trying, but he couldn't. It wasn't fair to leave the girl without at least a warning of the life eternal and that wasn't only the Highlander's voice in his head. He had always been attracted to those in the limelight. He liked being an observer to history. Abigail was going to be remembered by history. She was flamboyant and fun. It would be like accompanying Byron without the insanity and drugs.

Since Methos couldn't get to the newbie, he started following the man that Abigail trusted with her secret. Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs was good, with instincts of a man three times his age. Gibbs knew that he had been tailed but never laid eyes on Methos. So the Immortal thought it would be safe to approach the man. Gibbs rarely deviated from his schedule. He would work until the current case was finished. He would stop for groceries (and some very fine alcohol) and come home to work on his boat.

So the obvious plan would be to buy a nice malt and wait for Gibbs on his back steps. Methos never did the obvious. He did buy the malt, but he was waiting down in Gibbs basement.

Gibbs came down the steps with his gun drawn and ready. He would kill with very little provocation. Like Methos had previously observed –Gibbs had the instincts of an Immortal three times his age.

Methos held up a shot glass he had picked up from upstairs. Gibbs might have good taste in alcohol, but he had didn't mind diluting it with dirt. "A single or a double?" he asked.

"Who are you?"

"See that's not an easy question. When you don't age, you have to change your name every decade or two so people don't get suspicious. And if you die in front of someone, you can't have activity under your name when everybody knows you're dead." He met Gibbs' eyes. "Has Abigail stopped experimenting on herself yet?"

Gibbs was shook up but was trying not to show it. "You were there the night I brought her home."

Methos was impressed with the investigator's memory. "Yes, I was."

"How did you know?"

Methos grinned at took a sip of the drink he had poured for himself. "You learn the signs. Plus we all can identify each other if we get close enough. A built-in radar of sorts. From what I overheard, Abigail's is an intense headache."

Gibbs picked up on that real fast. "An early detection system?"

"Something like that," Methos agreed. "Have you seen the electrical impulses when Abigail heals?"

Gibbs nodded once, shortly.

"When we die, a larger amount of those electrical impulses seek out the nearest immortal to join with them. We call it a quickening. Some Immortals become quickening junkies."

"You're not one of those."

Methos didn't have to say anything out loud since Gibbs had already made his judgment.

"Why are you here," Gibbs finally asked.

"There's a little more to being an Immortal and often older ones apprentice younger ones. It's in all of our interests if no one finds out that we exist."

"You want me to arrange a meeting. How do I contact you?"

"I'm staying at the Motel 6 just up the road under the name Adam Pierson. I've been using the name for twenty some years now." Methos shrugged. "If she wishes to forego my offer, I will leave."

"How long would she survive without teaching?"

Again Methos shrugged. "It depends on her luck. Keeping to governmental property will help her for obvious reasons. The next Immortal she meets would probably challenge her to the death and he –or she- would win."

"I notice that you haven't told me yet how to kill you."

Methos smiled without any humor. "Forgive me for not sharing with a mortal. If you stay with Abigail, a friend will contact you about the mortals who record the history of the immortals. When I know that you have an authority that will punish you for interfering, then you will learn the truth."

Gibbs grunted. "We'll be in contact. Show yourself out."

Methos left and he took his malt with him.

Methos had been eating ice cream when Abigail and Gibbs pounded on his motel room door. The buzz had forewarned him. Gibbs pounded again. Methos rolled his eyes at the impatience and opened the door with his sword hidden behind the door. Gibbs was standing in front of the new Immortal.

"You can die," Methos told him. "She takes more work."

Gibbs glared; impressive but it didn't even faze the former Death. Abigail poked Gibbs in the back, now that her headache had lessened. "Go. I wanna find out everything now."

Methos blanched at that. It had been a while since he had needed to deal with an intensely curious apprentice. Gibbs shouldered his way in and Abigail bounced along behind.

"Your ice cream's melting," she told him as she closed the motel door.

Methos dumped the treat into the garbage can but kept the weapon close.

Abigail twirled slowly. Her eyes took in everything, from Methos' books and computer to his sword and comfortable, bland clothes.

Abigail's emotions dampened. "You're, like, undercover for forever." She sounded sad.

Methos blinked. He had never heard a better understanding of an Immortal's life from a newbie. Curious and smart, the two often went hand-in hand. The Immortal shrugged. "We get to see everything happen."

"Watch everyone die?"

"Constantly meeting new people." he countered.

She tilted her head. "Is it worth it? Trying to stay alive?"

"I don't know any other way," Methos told her honestly.

"You'll stay alive," Gibbs told her. To Methos, it sounded like an order. "You'll do it well."

She nodded and then sat on the bed looking up at him. "What do I need to know, Teach? Besides how to cut of someone's head?"

Methos glanced at Gibbs. He hadn't forgotten the silent mortal. Gibbs sipped his coffee and raised an eyebrow. "Joe Dawson signed me up."

"Where's your tattoo?" Methos challenged.

"I talked him out of it. Wasn't too hard. Something about certain people making it worth less than it used to be."

That was a jab at Methos' time as a Watcher. "Watchers don't hang around for this part."

Gibbs didn't move. "Dawson said that he wanted a detailed report on your teaching methods."

Methos grimaced. Watchers were nothing more than busy-bodies, he swore. He addressed Abigail instead. "I'll get a dojo near your apartment. You're taking the next month off work so that I can get you in shape."

"Month," she gasped. "But I…."

"Agreed," Gibbs answered for her. "The Marines take thirteen weeks. I doubt he can do it in four."

"After that, you'll spend two hours a day with me until I say otherwise."

"How long will that be?" Abigail asked warily.

"Years," Gibbs and Methos chorused. At least this Watcher would actively keep his Immortal alive.

Abigail pouted at Gibbs.

Gibbs shook his head at her. "The first few years will be the most dangerous. I want you to survive them."

"Okay, I guess. But…"

"I'll clear it with Vance."

"When do I get my sword," Abigail asked.

"After I see what fighting style will best work for you. Today's your last free day. Enjoy it. Be here at 5am tomorrow morning and if you get a headache between now and then, run like hell to hallow ground."

Abigail looked to Gibbs again. "What are we going to tell the team?"

"PTSD from your bad date."

Abigail nodded. "I guess I'm all yours, Teach."

"Call me Adam."

"Sure thing, Teach," she responded with a cheeky grin.