Simon sat smiling his Cheshire cat smile as Methos and Max started a fire and readied themselves for night. The Nephilim fairly buzzed with wild eyed eagerness. A sense of expectation, of raw energy and impending change boiled through his stony frame. His eyes glowed gently in the evening light.
"Hey Simon?"
"Yes Max?" He asked and his voice burbled with good cheer.
"You're giving me the fuckin creeps man." She said and cleared a place near the fire to sleep on.
"Ah is that bad?"
"For me yeah. Hey if we go to sleep you won't do anything weird will you?"
"Define weird?" He asked and laughed an infectious chuckling laugh. Max spared him a thin smile.
"Yeah right." The banter while light on the surface was calculated. Max wanted to ground Simon to remind him of their friendship remind him that at one point he had risked everything just to apologize to her. So she bantered and teased and tried to make him see her, not the immortal, not the commander of an army, not the desperate woman struggling to save lives, just her, Max Holloway his friend.
She slept uneasily tossing and turning wild images and glimpses of horror from the past rose up like scarecrows in the dark. She muttered and gasped and thrashed in her sleep. Her expression alternated between extreme pain and grief.
Simon crouched over her dreaming form examining her closely. His expression was intent but confused, it was as though all the years chained under Cheyenne mountain had destroyed his concept of human emotion or perhaps he simply no longer felt the need to hide his own alien ignorance of the condition any longer. Who was left to harm him?
As Max moaned again he reached down and brushed a finger along her jawline, she went still and limp, her breathing deepened and expression relaxed. Simon closed his eyes and sat back on his heels; he threw his head back and grimaced. Max's pain and twisted nightmares rocketed through him for a few seconds. He opened his eyes, cocked his head like a confused bird and frowned at Max. He shook his head and retreated back to his perch.
On the other side of the fire Methos closed his eyes. The Nephilim was probably crazy the ancient immortal decided but he would have to wait if he agreed to assist the Earthlings so much the better. After that? Well he had some thinking to do.
As dawn broke Max and Methos were dousing the coals of their fire. Simon seemed to be asleep but he was sitting bolt upright against a tree. He was utterly still more statue than living being. His skin had darkened further until it was a dusky high summer tan. His hair had become a gold blonde but his eyes were the same gun steel gray.
"Hey." Max said kneeling next to Simon he did not move. She reached out and put a hand on his right bicep. He was colder than stone and his flesh immovable she shoved against him and he rocked against the tree slightly.
"What the fuck?" She asked softly, rhetorically.
He blinked then slow and long and smiled up at her fully aware.
"Jesus Simon what the hell?" Max asked annoyed. He stood up abruptly and grinned his weird grin.
"Shall we?" He asked eyes alight with delight.
Methos wordlessly took point and led the strange little troop along. Two hours later they were jumped.
Max was chagrinned, perhaps she had been distracted by Simon or even Methos's familiar presence. She enjoyed having the ancient along it felt like the old days; she no longer felt the pressure of the world on her shoulders until they were surrounded by six armed Earthlings with seriously unfriendly expressions.
"Uh hi." She said hands up Methos mimicked her posture. Simon busied himself examining the strange rifles pointed at him.
"Who are you?" Max assumed it was the squad sergeant asking. She was an unfamiliar vampire.
"Max Holloway." Max said. The woman snorted.
"My men tell me you're immortal but Max Holloway is dead lady, she burned six months ago." The sergeant snarled. She gestured at her squad. They disarmed and tied the three.
"Welcome home." Max said wearily to Methos.
"Hey what are those?" Simon asked gesturing with his chin to the strange weapons.
"Pulse rifles I'll explain 'em later." Max said. One of the immortals behind her thumped her in the kidney with his rifle butt. Max grunted and dropped to one knee she glared and spat then stood and faced her abuser.
"I'll remember that." She said with a mad grin. The soldier shoved her in line behind the men and followed close behind them.
It took the nine of them another forty-five minutes to reach the local enclave. The region commander took their photos and prints and sent hardcopies via courier to the central command.
"How long before you get an answer?" Max asked. The aggressive soldier moved to strike her again. Instead of backpedaling Max glared and got in his face.
"No more than four hours." The vampire said glaring her man back to his place.
"Good you gonna uncuff us?" She demanded. The sergeant frowned.
"Look we aren't human okay?"
"Doesn't mean you're with us."
"If you keep frowning like that you'll get wrinkles." Methos chimed in. The vampire gave him a confused look.
'Heh." Simon said to round things off. The sergeant pulled her men away a few feet and then left the room.
The building was half assed at best. It was situated in the rear of a rotting barn the three companions were shoe horned into a battered stall. They sat in a semicircle facing the stall door.
"What now?" Methos asked.
"Wait I guess, hey at least we found them." Max said and yawned.
"Bad night?" Methos asked.
"Yeah bad dreams nothing new." She said and leaned forward testing the ropes she was bound with.
Three hours later the sergeant reappeared.
"The messenger got back that quickly huh?" Max said with a grin. Behind the sergeant stood the abusive little immortal he was scowling darkly and holding a bundle of cloth.
"My apologies commander the corporal has new uniforms for you and your companions we have transport available to take you to HQ."
"Why thanks sarge, give us a little privacy?" Max asked the sergeant accepting the clothing from the corporal, for his part the corporal managed to avoid eye contact.
Twenty minutes later she and Methos had changed - Simon preferred his own ragged clothes – and they were on their way to see Huard, Mac, and Cassandra. Max finally felt like maybe things could work out.
Simon watched the little barn fade into the greenery as the Jeep transporting them raced along. He liked the feel of the wind. He wondered what would happen to the man who had struck Max, knowing the feisty little female it would not be pleasant. Of course she had had quite a few years in his absence to mature and change. He bared his teeth into the wind as the Jeep revved up and shot through the woods.
Things were looking up.