An Old Soul

by Kaia Mariacle

See previous part for disclaimer's, ect.

Author's Notes: I'm so stunned at the wonderful reception this story has gotten! It's my baby, and I was very, very nervous when I posted the prologue. Combining these two fandoms has always been a goal of mine, and to see you guys enjoying it so far, brings a tear to my eye bg. I apologize in advance for the accent (you'll understand after you've read part one), I'm not very good at them, and I researched it as throughly as possible.

All individual questionscomments have been answered, at the end of this part.

But enough of that, here's the next part.

~Part One~

"She's....like nothing you've ever seen before." Joe sighed, and glanced at his watch. "She's also very punctual. I don't know what's keeping her."

Methos rolled his eyes, and sipped his beer. "Joe, I have a pressing appointment with Duncan's couch in a couple of hours. I can't wait forever for this girl."

Duncan snickered.

"What?"

"Richie's sleeping on my couch at the moment, Methos."

The ancient immortal frowned darkly, "What?! That's *my* couch, Macleod!"

"Well," the Highlander shrugged. "Take it up with him, then."

Methos sat back with a huff, "I just might." He pouted, taking a slow sip of his beer. "You know Macleod, I think you're hostly commitment has become sorely lacking in my absence."

"'Hostly'?" Duncan snorted. "Is that even a word?"

"Let me ask you this, Mac." The ancient immortal replied sardonically, "Who's the elder in our relationship? I think I know what proper vocabulary is."

"Whatever you say, old man."

"Yes, quite right." Methos smirked. He took a long pull off his beer, and stood.

"Running off already?" Duncan taunted.

Methos sighed in exasperation, "No, Highlander, I'm simply going to use the facilities." he grinned at Joe's snicker, and moved towards the back of the bar.

"Macleod, I'm getting worried, maybe you should -" Joe started, but his voice trailed off when Duncan's head jerked upwards, and his hand automatically reached for his sword.

The door flew open, and a wet, shivering Buffy Summers entered the bar, her gaze unconsciously swung towards Joe, and her mouth opened in a shriek of joy.

"Joseph!"

His mouth curled into a welcoming grin, and he opened his arms. The grin melted into a confused frown when she paused, and stared over at Duncan.

"Elizabeth?" Duncan whispered, eyes wide in shock. "My God, is it really you?"

Buffy sighed at he pulled her into a warm embrace.

"I thought you were dead." He whispered.

"No," She shook her head. "No, I was just...needed elsewhere."

1631, Italy

"Thrust, Duncan!" Connor shouted. "You must thrust, *then* parry."

"I dinnae ken why I've to do this, Connor!" The younger immortal shouted, throwing his sword to the side. "Do ye think I cannae take of myself?"

Connor frowned at the burst of temper. "I know you can take care of yourself, but you must learn all forms of swordplay. Not all immortals fight as fairly, or as honorably as we do."

"But-"

They both tensed.

"If I might interrupt, gentlemen?" A soft female voice echoed through the room, and the two Macleod's turned in unison.

Connor mouth curved, and Duncan's jaw dropped.

"Lizzie!" Connor shouted, moving across the floor and enveloping her in his arms. "It's been centuries!" She grinned as he dropped her to her feet, smiling madly. "What are you doing here?"

"Well," she answered, eyes glinting mischievously. "I heard there was a handsome, devilish Scotsman breaking all the ladies hearts, and I just had to come and see for myself." She eyed him, mouth twitching. "It seems the rumor mill is sorely lacking in it's accuracy." She peered over his shoulder, "Unless that handsome young man is the one they've all been talking about."

"Well, Lizzie, it seems you do need to find yourself a pair of spectacles." He rolled his eyes as Duncan lost his stunned look, and answered her silent hello with a confident grin. "And that *young man* is my student."

She let go of Connor's arm, and walked over to Duncan, holding her hand out in gretting. A laugh escaped as he eagerly took it, kissing the back gently.

"It's a pleasure to meet ye, lassie." He eyed his cousin. "It seems that Connor's been keeping secrets from me."

"An old friend is not a secret, Duncan."

"Well then, if she's not, perhaps ye'd like tae introduce us properly."

Connor rolled his eyes again, "Duncan Macleod, this is Elizabeth Sumner." He smiled at the latter.

"It's a pleasure tae meet ye, Elizabeth."

"Oh please, call me Liz."

"Liz, then." He said, attempting to stare deeply into her eyes.

She burst into laughter, and looked over at Connor. "I see that the rumor's are true, Connor."

He nodded, "Oh yes, the lad's very much a heart-breaker." He said sardonically. "But he's not much of a student."

"Oh, was that a sparring session I interrupted?" She said. "I thought you were rehearsing a scene, what with all the pouting."

"Huh?!" Duncan shouted, now staring crossly at Elizabeth. "Are ye talking about me?"

She nodded, and crossed her arms. "You seemed to be giving Connor quite a difficult time."

"Aye," Duncan answered. "He's making me learn something I'll never need."

She nodded, mocking him. "Ah, I see, so now you're the teacher and he's the student?"

Duncan's face grew red with embarrassment and anger. What did this *woman* know. He was an immortal, and he was a warrior, and he knew everything he needed to defend himself.

"What do ye ken?" He shouted, surprising himself. "I was a warrior, and I was a clansman once! I dinnae need tae learn anything else!"

"Duncan," her voice changed, grew soft and honest. "I've lived a long time, and there are many different ways of fighting. Most immortal s you battle will not oblige you, they will take your head and walk away."

Duncan stared at the floor, duly chastised in the face of her gentle reasoning. "Aye, I ken that. I...I...just...sometimes...I wish I were back in Scotland, with my family."

"Duncan," Connor broke in, coming to stand beside them. "You need to talk to me about such feelings, how am I going to teach you if I don't know what's going on inside?"

Duncan flushed bright red, "'S not right for a man tae be talking about such things."

Elizabeth growled softly under her breath, and picked up Duncan's fallen sword.

"They say it's not right for a woman to fight," she slid the rapier across his shoulder. "But I am a woman, and I know how to fight."

"Liz-"

"Society is often wrong, Duncan."

end flashback

"Wait a minute," Joe interrupted, limping over to them. "You guys know each other?" He shook his head, "If I'd known, Mac, I would've warned you beforehand."

Buffy smiled softly at him, "I don't think it was ever mentioned in the chronicles."

"Aye," Duncan agreed. "They wouldn't have. Liz, Connor and I were very much in seclusion at the time. She was told me that she didn't like people spying on her, although at the time, I had no idea what she was talking about." he stared at Joe. "Now I know she was meant watchers, but apparently, she's given up that rule."

"Not given up," Buffy corrected, smiling at Joe. "Just...modified. I mean, it's not every day you meet a watcher like Joe Dawson."

Joe blushed uncharacteristically, "Hell, darlin', it's not every day you meet an immortal like Buffy Summers."

"*Buffy*?" Duncan asked, eyebrows raised. "That's an...interesting name."

She hit his arm, "Well we can't all be a 'rolls off the tongue' Duncan Macleod of the Clan Ma-" her voice trailed off as a door slammed in the back of the bar. She stiffened as an immortal buzz ran down her spine.

"Well, now, is this the girl I've been hearing about all night?" A voice sounded behind her, and she closed her eyes momentarily. Trying to keep herself calm. Trying to tell herself that she didn't know that voice.

That it wasn't *his* voice.

"Buffy, this is Adam Pierson." Joe gestured behind her. "A friend."

"Nice to meet you," The voice replied. "Now if you'd turn around I can put a face to the name I've been hearing Joe gush about all night."

She turned slowly, as if in a daze.

Their eyes met, and the room stilled. His smile melted away, and his hands dropped to his sides as if he was unable to even hold them up.

For the first time in two thousand years, Buffy gazed upon the face of death.

He moved slowly, reaching out. Hand shaking, he cupped her cheek, shooting tremors down both their spines when she unconsciously leaned into the touch.

His voice was low, so low that the other occupants of the room had to strain to hear him.

"Amarante."

TBC...

Peggy: It seems that the muses have come out of hiding for the moment, let's cross our fingers that they stay out for the duration of the story ^_^

Kalystia: Thanks!

Catlimere: I owe you many thanks, as it was your e-mail that got my muses out and about! Thanks you for the insightful comments, I'm also a B/M fan, and writing the two of them is so very much fun. I'm happy you noticed my parallelism to her 'out of heaven' demeanor, I think you might have been the only one, it was a very subtle point, but I thought it fit quite well ; )

Teddy-Blair: Thank you. And remember, this is an AU, so anything's possible ^_^

manticore-gurl071134: Mucho gracias!

greeneyes: They do go well together, don't they?!

Vampyr Moon: Thanks. Amarante is Buffy.

Rood-Roosje: Found the inspiration! Found it, found it! *dances with evil, treacherous, but brilliant muses* Glad you're enjoying!