Disclaimer: I don't own either Highlander or Magnificent 7. I'm not making any profit whatsoever.
As always – heartfelt thanks to Moon for beta'ing and for prodding me to expand certain scenes and ideas. Without you this fic probably wouldn't exist, and Vin and Chris certainly wouldn't be doing naughty things in the shower.
AN: For the benefit of the FanFiction(dot)net site I've deleted the afore mentioned shower scene, since the story would likely be taken down otherwise. But the full fic will be available on my LiveJournal. The link is in my bio.
NB: I don't think there's anything vitally important in the deleted scene, other than the fact that Vin calls Chris 'Circinn'.
Reckoning:
Vin sat down at his desk with a steaming cup of coffee. He had been one of the first in at the office, not an altogether unusual situation, but the coffee had not yet been made. Chris had been waylaid in the lobby by the leader of Team 5 and so Vin had, with a self-satisfied smirk, proceeded in making his own brand of coffee, confident in the fact that he'd probably have the whole pot to himself. His coffee was notoriously strong and only the bravest, or those with the constitution of an ox, could stomach it.
He turned his computer on, waiting for it start. He was still uncomfortable with technology, despite the many decades he had had to get used to it. While he had adjusted enough to function in the modern world, that was as far as he could go. There was always a part of him that longed for open land stretching from horizon to horizon. Where all that existed was the land, the sky and the steady drum of his horse's hooves beneath him.
His computer chimed and Vin glared at it suspiciously until he noticed a small message box saying that he had mail. Opening the email Vin could only stare at it blankly for a moment. The email had only one line of writing: Kol'tec is dead.
Vin stared blankly at the screen for several minutes before shaking himself out of his shock when Chris walked into the office with an annoyed expression. He couldn't do anything about it until Ezra arrived, and that was likely to be in a few hours at least.
"What did Anderson want?" Vin asked.
"Admin meeting."
Vin snorted.
"Your fault for being in charge."
"More trouble than it's worth most days," Chris remarked dryly.
"You live for it," Vin said perceptively and Chris merely shook his head as he turned to head into his office. He frowned at the pensive look which crossed Vin's face as he turned back to his computer.
"Vin," he began with concern. Vin looked up, all expression wiped from his face. Chris frowned, sure that something was wrong. He knew better than to push Vin, who was reserved at best. Instead he added, "I see you made that poison again."
"That's perfectly good coffee," Vin said looking mildly offended before his self-satisfied smirk returned. Chris snorted. They both turned when Josiah entered, nodding a greeting to them. He was immediately followed by Nathan. Chris cast one last concerned glance at Vin, before he went to his office.
Vin focussed once again on his computer and several reports that still needed going over before he submitted them. Over the next hour Vin got through two reports and Buck and JD arrived. Ezra arrived almost an hour after that. Vin caught his eye with a grim expression to which Ezra subtly nodded. It was another two hours before they were able to find time to speak privately.
"Ez," Vin said, closing the door to the break room. "I need a favour."
The tone and Vin's grave expression told Ezra that this wasn't going to be a typical favour. In all likelihood it would require the bending, if not breaking, of his Oath because Vin didn't ask favours lightly.
"And what can I expect as recompense?" Ezra asked, because if he was going to break his Oath then he was going to have a damn good reason for it.
"Next time I take a trip it won't be to the middle of nowhere," Vin told him, with a half-hearted attempt at an amused grin. While he enjoyed dragging his urbane Watcher through camping trip after camping trip, there were more important things at stake.
Vin had become aware of the Watchers' presence almost 500 years into his Immortality. Over the years he had noticed several people following him. Once or twice he was willing to discount, though still remain cautious. The fact that he had been consistently followed whenever he spent any great length of time near cities or towns was far too suspicious to ignore. So he had waited until he could corner one of the men who had been following him. It had taken some persuasion, but eventually the story of the Watchers had spilled freely from the man, despite the split lip and several missing teeth.
Vin had taken to avoiding the Watchers whenever possible. He was not there to entertain curious mortals. However he was willing to compromise, when necessary, with some of the Watchers assigned to him, but only for an exchange of information. He let them observe his life and they informed him of any Immortals that were in town. Not necessarily specifics, but enough that he would be more cautious than usual. If anything else was asked, from either side, then there was always a fair exchange. Vin wasn't willing to give anything for free and he knew better than to expect it in return.
His reputation among Watchers as an especially difficult case was such that he only received those Watchers who had fallen out of favour or disgraced themselves in some way. That was how he had ended up with Ezra. He managed to lose almost all of his Watchers, and preferred it that way. When he settled in one place for a few years he would more often than not leave as soon as the Watchers caught wind of his location. There were a few times when he didn't, and those were when he had found someone to settle down with, as he had now.
"I agree to those terms. What favour do you require?"
"I need to find out what happened to Kol'tec."
"Give me an hour and I'll have your information for you." With that the two men parted ways, each going to their own desks.
Ezra logged onto the Watchers' Database, taking time to cover his tracks, until even JD would have at least a little trouble tracing him. It took him only twenty minutes to find the information and he had to admit even he was shocked. Duncan MacLeod, the Watchers' icon of Immortality, had killed Kol'tec, who was known for his lack of interest in the Game and for helping other Immortals. He spent the next ten minutes trying to find out anything more of the situation. All he could find was that during that time MacLeod had threatened his student and killed two relatively peaceful Immortals; Sean Burnes and James Koltec.
Ezra wrote down only the name of the man responsible, knowing that Vin would not have the patience for anything more. He knew that while Vin didn't have trouble picking up new languages, he did have trouble learning new alphabets and writing systems. When he was stressed or angry he tended to slip back into his native language and have trouble focussing on his current language. Though he had heard the occasional snippet, Ezra still could not identify Vin's first language. It frustrated him to no end, because he spoke several languages himself and could recognise a great deal more, but this one still eluded him. Even the accent, subtle though it usually was, seemed unidentifiable.
Ezra handed the piece of paper to Vin who stared at it for a moment before crumpling it in his fist. Vin gave Ezra a short nod before standing and disappearing into Chris' office.
Vin closed the door quietly behind him, focussing on keeping a tight leash on his emotions. Chris seemed to pick up on his tension immediately.
"Vin?" he asked, going over to the other man, placing one hand on Vin's arm, the other cupping his cheek. He could feel just how tightly Vin's jaw was clenched and could see his focus in the small lines around his eyes.
"I'm taking leave, as much of it as I have coming to me." Vin avoided looking at him. Chris would ask questions, he'd have to, and Vin wasn't prepared to deal with that just yet. Not without losing what control he had. He could not afford to face MacLeod with any vulnerabilities showing. The man had his reputation among Immortals for a reason.
"Vin, what's going on?" he questioned again, absently brushing his thumb across Vin's cheek. He knew Vin, knew him better than he perhaps knew himself. Pushing Vin when he was in this state was a delicate thing. Too much and he would snap, too little and he would bottle everything up.
"Kol'tec is dead."
"Kol'tec?" Chris asked, because Vin was always tight-lipped about his past. Not secretive exactly, but he seldom volunteered information.
"He is… he was a friend."
Vin did not need to explain any further. Chris knew that Vin's code of ethics would not allow him to leave his friend un-avenged. While Chris did not know the specifics, and would never push Vin just to satisfy his own curiosity, he knew that Vin came from a society that followed a warrior code of sorts. No, that wasn't quite right; it was definitely more utilitarian than that. A hunter's code perhaps, and it permeated every aspect of his life. Vin's reaction had very little to do with honour and everything to do with the fact that one of his own had been hurt, had been killed, and Vin wanted to hurt the person responsible right back.
"I'll speak to Travis and we'll book a flight immediately."
"Chris-"
"I won't interfere," Chris said. Not unless it's necessary. But even if it isn't, you're going to need someone to keep your ass in gear, because you're going to be running on empty by the time this is done.
Vin nodded finally and turned to leave. Chris let Vin go, but not before lightly squeezing his arm, offering as much comfort as he could, knowing that Vin wouldn't be too receptive. Chris stared after Vin for a long time wishing that he could fight this battle for Vin, but knowing that that was not possible. Even if it was, Vin wouldn't let him.
He picked up the phone and dialled Travis' number. Impatiently he waited for the other man to pick up.
"Travis, something came up and Tanner, Standish and I will be taking some time off," Chris said before Orrin could say anything.
"What happened?" was Orrin's immediate response.
"There's been an emergency and we need some time off to take care of it."
"What sort of emergency?"
"I can't say," Chris said after a slight pause. "I'm going to ask you to trust me on this one."
"How long?"
"I don't know."
"I expect you both back at work in two weeks."
Chris knew that Travis couldn't play favourites and that that was the closest his superior could come to saying that he was worried, but he appreciated it none-the-less. He hung up the phone before dialling the number of the airport. He'd need three seats, two together and one apart, simply for the benefit of the Watchers.
Ezra dialled Travis's number from the taxi on the way to the airport. The fact that Chris had included him in their plans without a second thought gave him an ambivalent, strangely warm feeling but it did complicate matters.
When Ezra had unexpectedly ended up on one of Travis' teams with Vin, a notoriously difficult Immortal to keep track of, Travis had deemed it an acceptable risk to assign him to Vin. Of course, neither had counted on the fact that they'd become close to Vin, perhaps too close, considering the Watchers' rule of non-interference.
It had fallen to both men to come up with some rather creative thinking to explain some of their actions and the origins of some of their information. It wouldn't do to say that they had come by their information via the Immortal himself. A situation like that could get them killed.
Ezra had also kept the true extent of his co-operation with Vin hidden from Travis. While the man might appreciate that sometimes interaction could be an advantage, he wouldn't understand Ezra using the Watchers Chronicles to supply information to an Immortal. Ezra was also reasonably sure that Vin was unaware of Travis role as a Watcher, never mind being in charge of the Colorado region. Ezra knew that if Vin ever learned of the true extent of the Watchers involvement in his life he would bolt, and likely take Chris with him. Then Ezra would be out of a job and without the people he had reluctantly come to consider as family.
Travis was an honest man, and while Ezra could appreciate that, even admire it at times, it didn't mean that he could do the same or believe in the same values.
"Travis."
"Sir, our destination is Seacouver."
"Seacouver? The only Immortal in Seacouver is Duncan MacLeod. What would Tanner want there?"
"I am unaware of the details. I will inform you of any further developments."
"Standish," Travis said gravely, "bring them home."
"I will," Ezra said, because anything else was not an option.
Vin gripped the arms of his chair tightly. The plane rocked slightly and he gritted his teeth. Chris surreptitiously rested his hand over Vin's and gave it a squeeze. Vin's expression didn't lose its intense concentration.
"You're the one who should be least worried about what would happen if we crashed," Chris said, his eyes sparkling with laughter.
"It isn't natural."
"About as natural as driving in a car."
"That's what the horses are for."
"And I'm pretty sure basic amenities aren't exactly natural either."
"That's different."
Chris did his best to hide an amused grin and Vin glared at him.
"You're having far too much fun at my expense," Vin told him, though he gripped Chris' hand tightly as the plane was jostled again.
"Better than the in flight movie at least." Vin gave Chris' hand a vindictive squeeze and Chris' smile turned into a grimace. "If that's the thanks I get – "
"Can I get you anything to drink?" a flight attendant asked with a warm smile as she looked at Vin, who clearly didn't like flying.
"Just water," Chris said curtly as he glared at the woman. Vin gave her a brief nod as well.
"Of course, sir," she said, her smile changing from warm to polite. Vin snorted as she continued down the aisle.
"Possessive bastard."
"Don't you know it," Chris replied with a smirk. Vin leant his head back into the chair and took a deep breath as the plane rocked again. If nothing else he appreciated Chris' ability to distract him during flights. Even his anger was put aside when it came to his claustrophobia and anxiety about flying. Chris squeezed his hand lightly.
"Not too much longer," Chris told him.
"You always say that."
"Well maybe if you listened to me more often."
"Makes things interesting."
"I don't think your Watcher appreciates that fact much."
Vin's expression immediately turned serious as he was again reminded of the situation. He glanced up the aisle to where Ezra was sitting several rows in front dozing lightly.
The next few days for Ezra would be filled with dodging Duncan MacLeod, reporting to Joe Dawson, and trying to keep track of Vin while he went gallivanting around the city. After several years as Vin's Watcher Ezra knew that he would need to get all the rest he could while he could because Vin could go for several days without sleeping. Which he frequently did when he was hunting.
"Ez knows the stakes." This time when Chris squeezed Vin's hand it was supportive as well as comforting.
Vin crouched on a rooftop, binoculars clasped in his hands. His coat was buttoned against the rain and wind, but he hardly noticed it as he peered into the loft across the street. His mark was currently on the ground floor going through several katas. Vin had studied the pattern to MacLeod's fighting and the way in which he moved.
Vin had been following the other Immortal for several days in order to learn his routines as well as his strengths and weaknesses. He had also taken special note to memorise MacLeod's alarm code. So far MacLeod hadn't changed it, but Vin took careful note each time he punched the numbers in, just to double check.
Typically MacLeod would spend his days at the dojo and loft, and his nights at Joe's bar. However, Vin's first priority had been to make sure that he wasn't walking straight into a trap of some sort. After all they still didn't know who had sent the email or what the intention behind it had been.
Chris had wanted JD to trace the email, but Vin was unwilling to go that route unless it was absolutely necessary. It would ultimately require telling JD at least a little about what was going on and JD would likely dig even further in an effort to help his friend. Once JD knew about his Immortality it would only be a matter of time before the rest of the team knew. Not because JD would deliberately tell the others, but rather because four was an awfully big number to keep a secret. All it took was one indiscreet word and Vin would be forced to move on again.
Regardless, it had not taken Vin long to determine that it wasn't a trap, at least not in the traditional sense. MacLeod was simply too oblivious. While he didn't know who had sent the email he was willing to put it aside for the moment.
He had also been very careful about staying out of the Highlander's range. While letting MacLeod sense him would have been a good way to put him on edge, it also would have given away the element of surprise.
Vin watched as MacLeod grabbed a towel and wiped his face before slinging the towel over his shoulder. A minute later MacLeod was upstairs taking a shower. It didn't seem like he would be going anywhere tonight. Vin took his cell out of his pocket and flipped it open, quickly dialling Chris' number.
"I'll be back in a few minutes," Vin said
"I'll order some food and get some coffee going."
"You know me too well," Vin said as he shivered, just now realising how cold he was.
"Yeah well, don't expect your usual calibre of coffee. I'm having some of it too."
"I'll wean you off of that weak stuff eventually." Vin smirked at the doubtful snort he heard.
"We don't all have your constitution."
The lights in MacLeod's loft switched off and Vin put the binoculars into the bag at his feet.
"I'm on my way."
Ezra kept to the shadows in a corner of the bar while he waited for the last of the patrons to leave. Finally he approached Dawson as he was cleaning up.
"Mr Dawson."
"Mr Standish, I understand Kay-oh-im-hin is in town."
"Caoimhín," Ezra corrected, pronouncing it as one would Kevin, "current alias Kevin Tanner has recently arrived."
"His purpose?"
"I have determined that he is searching for something, beyond that I am unaware," Ezra replied. It was true that Vin was looking for something if one counted revenge, but that was something Ezra was going to keep from Dawson because the man was his superior in the organisation but more importantly because he was MacLeod's Watcher.
"Does it have anything to do with MacLeod?" Joe asked, because Immortals seldom came through Seacouver without involving MacLeod.
"It seems entirely unlikely," Ezra said, and it certainly did seem that way. "Caoimhín has yet to confront MacLeod and has by all account made a concerted effort to stay out of his way."
"Report back if you discover any new information."
"I shall endeavour to do so, Mr Dawson." With that Ezra turned and left.
On the fifth day of his hunt while Vin followed MacLeod as he went on several errands he was surprised by MacLeod meeting with a man he hadn't yet seen. They had spent almost half an hour talking and from what Vin could tell they seemed to be friends.
Unfortunately because they were out in the open Vin was forced to stay quite a distance away so that he wouldn't be seen or sensed. The result was that he couldn't properly see who MacLeod had met with, and hauling out his binoculars in a crowded street would only draw attention.
Vin gave brief thought to postponing his fight with MacLeod because the unknown man was an uncertainty he was not willing to accept. Especially when he didn't know if the man was an Immortal or not. Unfortunately, he couldn't plan for everything, much as he wished he could, and the longer he took to challenge MacLeod the more likely it was that MacLeod would notice his presence.
It certainly seemed like MacLeod had noticed something. He was definitely more alert than usual. Luckily he wasn't suspicious just yet, and Vin was close to confronting him.
Almost as if he sensed something MacLeod's companion turned to discreetly scan the crowd. Vin ducked into the nearest doorway because even if they couldn't see him clearly from a distance they would still have evidence that someone was following them.
Vin counted slowly to 50 before he casually stepped out of the doorway and glanced at where MacLeod and his companion had been. The friend was gone, but MacLeod was still there. Vin looked around, trying to spot anyone who might be watching him. It seemed that he had not been caught, but he would still have to take measures to ensure that it didn't happen again. He would also have to be overly cautious just in case he had been noticed.
Two days later Vin was snapping on a pair of latex gloves as he pulled out a lock-picking kit. It wasn't a skill he used all too often, but he'd made sure to keep practised at it, if simply for the fact that it was so useful. After several moments the door to MacLeod's dojo swung open and Vin moved swiftly to the alarm where he punched in the code. The red light switched to green and Vin didn't waste time breathing a sigh of relief, he was already moving towards the stairs. Taking the lift would have been too risky. He flicked on a small penlight torch which provided enough light to see by, especially with the moon bright as it was tonight, without drawing undue suspicion to the loft.
Vin's purpose in breaking in was to get a better feel for who MacLeod was and the first thing he noticed about the loft was that it simply oozed masculine sophistication. It wasn't so much that Vin got the impression MacLeod was trying to show off his wealth, but rather that he liked good quality, expensive things. Vin figured that MacLeod was still young enough that material possessions meant something to him.
The next thing Vin noticed was the fact that everything was spotless and obviously had its specific place in the loft, which meant that he would have to be especially careful not to disturb anything.
Vin wandered over to the CD rack and browsed the titles which consisted mostly of opera and classical pieces, though there were a few bagpipe pieces which amused him. He took another glance around the apartment but saw nothing else that might prove enlightening. Overall, he got the distinct impression that MacLeod was trying too hard to forget the fact that he'd grown up in a hut, likely sleeping in the same bed as six others, and bathing infrequently at best. For a man so proud of his heritage he'd managed to forget the truth of it quite quickly.
Vin's phone vibrated and he quickly answered it.
"He's on his way back," Chris told him. In the background Vin could hear blues music and lots of people talking and laughing. For that night Chris had served as a lookout, but he usually followed MacLeod when he went to Joe's simply because Vin wasn't able to. Not only would MacLeod sense him but the owner was also a Watcher.
"I'll see you at the hotel."
Methos spotted Caoimhín just where he had expected to – leaning nonchalantly against a wall glancing absently in the direction of MacLeod, who was seated in a café just a block away. Methos hadn't been able to find where he was staying on such short notice but according to the Watcher's database Caoimhín was the only Immortal in town. Of course Methos had first known him as Cailtram when he was mortal, and had bumped into him only a few times since Cailtram had become Immortal and taken up the name of Caoimhín.
Still, he knew Cailtram's nature and knew that the man was a hunter more than anything else. That was not something that could be educated or civilised out of someone. And Cailtram had resisted civilisation to the last. As a result Methos wasn't all together happy with the conclusions he was reaching, but the only way to find out the truth was to confront Cailtram himself.
He stepped forward and let the buzz of another Immortal's presence wash over him. The slightest shift in Cailtram's stance was all that alerted Methos to the fact that the other Immortal was aware of him. Methos had always respected Cailtram's firm self-control, he just wished that MacLeod could learn the same.
Methos walked forward until he was facing Cailtram. Close enough that they would have at least some privacy, but far enough away that he'd have some warning if Cailtram made a threatening move.
"You're hunting MacLeod."
Cailtram did not reply, but Methos knew that he had the man's full attention. From the moment Cailtram had sensed the presence of an Immortal he had turned his attention away from MacLeod.
"He's a good man," Methos said.
"Your good man killed a friend of mine."
With that Cailtram turned back to watch MacLeod, though Methos could tell from the man's tense stance that Cailtram was still very much aware of him.
"I know," Methos told him.
"Don't try to change my mind," Cailtram warned, turning back to look at Methos. "I'd rather not lose another friend over this."
Cailtram brushed passed him before he could reply, but Methos knew that he wouldn't have listened anyway, not yet. He pulled out his cell and dialled MacLeod's number.
"MacLeod," he answered.
"Have you ever thought about visiting the Bahamas?" Methos asked as he glanced down the street to where MacLeod was seated at the café. "I hear it's nice this time of year."
MacLeod stepped into Joe's with a distracted expression. For several days now he had been feeling vaguely on edge. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, since everything was quiet and he hadn't sensed an Immortal, but he couldn't quite shake the feeling that something wasn't right. Then came Methos' phone call. Methos hadn't said anything specific but he'd certainly been trying to get MacLeod to leave Seacouver. Finally he'd decided to see if Joe knew anything.
Joe was sitting at the stage playing his guitar. MacLeod waited just inside the doorway for a pause in Joe's playing so that he could interrupt. Finally Joe looked up from his guitar and beckoned MacLeod over.
"Something you need?"
"I need to know who's in town."
"Has someone been bothering you?" Joe asked, concern clearly in his features as he gripped his cane and made his way toward the bar.
"Not exactly," MacLeod replied with a frown. "Just a feeling I have."
"MacLeod, I can't violate my oath because of a feeling."
"Joe, you know I wouldn't bother you if I thought it was trivial. I just can't shake the feeling that someone's following me, and it's not the Watchers."
"There is a new Immortal in town, but from what I hear he's generally peaceful," Joe began reluctantly.
"I'm not planning on challenging anyone, Joe. I just need to how careful I should be for the next while."
"Caoimhín, currently known as Kevin Tanner," Joe said as he entered the back room. MacLeod trailed after him. "His file is pretty sparse, that much I do know."
Joe logged onto the Database and quickly located the right file.
"Exact date of birth unknown, estimated to be somewhere between AD 400 and 600. Due to his name it's assumed that he's from Ireland, but that can't be verified. Despite this he was first spotted in Russia in the late 600s. He was a prolific head-hunter until some time in the 700s when he abruptly stopped and dropped off the Watcher's radar."
"He was a head-hunter?"
"Very much in the past, it would seem. From what his file says he's taken fewer heads in the last 500 years than you have in the last five years."
"But you can't say for certain? I mean, his file is incomplete."
Joe shrugged. "That's the most I can tell you."
MacLeod looked up as he sensed a Quickening, and then they both heard someone fiddling around in the bar area. Joe quickly logged out of the database and shut the computer down. Moments later Methos wandered into the room, beer in hand.
"I suppose you're not paying for that," Joe said with a long-suffering sigh.
"Add it to my tab," Methos replied nonchalantly as he drank deeply from the bottle.
MacLeod looked at Methos speculatively and Methos narrowed his eyes in response.
"What do you want MacLeod?"
"You ever met an Immortal named Caoimhín?"
Methos paused for only the briefest moment as he wondered whether or not he should tell MacLeod what was going on. Of course MacLeod would then seek Cailtram out and Cailtram was set on killing him. No, for now it would be best to keep them apart, at least until he could convince Cailtram that MacLeod deserved to live. Methos wondered if Cassandra would find that amusing.
"Any last name?" he asked.
MacLeod looked at Joe who shook his head.
"Doesn't ring a bell," Methos said finally as he drank from his beer.
"He goes by the name Kevin Tanner now," Joe added. Methos thought for a moment before shaking his head once more.
"I can't say I've ever met an Immortal by that name."
MacLeod frowned doubtfully at Methos but didn't make any further comment. Methos simply looked at MacLeod with a raised eyebrow, as though daring the Highlander to call him a liar.
Vin closed his eyes and breathed in deeply for several moments to centre himself. His hair, still damp from the shower he had taken, was tied in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He preferred it loose, but for a fight it was more practical to have it tied up.
Vin opened his eyes when he heard footsteps approaching him. Silently Chris knelt down in front of him, a bowl filled with a blue paste, a similar copper mixture to the one originally used by Vin's people. Vin grasped his knife in his right hand and began to carve designs on his left arm. His clenched jaw was the only sign that he was feeling any pain. Quickly, before the cuts could close Chris rubbed the copper paste into the wound. Vin's closed eyes and low moan that was cut off before it even really began were the only indication that Vin was in pain. Chris pressed his hand to the wound, hating the fact that he had been the one to cause Vin pain. He leant forward, pressing his lips to Vin's. After a moment Vin parted his lips and met Chris in a slow, intimate kiss that superimposed any other sensation.
Finally Vin pulled back and gave Chris a short nod. He once again picked up the knife and moved to do the next tattoo. So they continued, with Vin carving the markings and designs of his people while Chris rubbed the blue copper paste into the wounds. Chris was left to do Vin's back and much of his chest because Vin was unable to reach. Chris slowly washed the blood and remaining paste off with a damp cloth.
Vin stretched, shifting the muscles under his skin and breathed a contented sigh. For the first time in many years he felt comfortable in his skin. The tattoos had had the purpose of intimidating enemies in battle, but they had also had religious and symbolic significance. Vin's tattoos were a personal representation of who he was, his status and his accomplishments. He knew that because of his healing they would fade within a few weeks but he was happy to just have them back for now. It was a luxury he only allowed himself when he was preparing for battle, something which had been rare in the last centuries.
Vin then turned to the array of weapons he had laid out and began to meticulously clean each one, testing the sharpness as he did so. He always took considerable care of his blades. They were his livelihood, after all. However, he always paid special attention to them before and after a battle.
Vin took extra care with the jian. A sword he had picked up in China 300 years after his first death. His Celtic sword, while having served him well, could not compare to the lighter, more graceful jian. He had used a jian ever since, but for the period from the 14th to the 16th century when long swords had been popular, and the weapon of choice if he wanted to blend in.
He took his time concealing his various weapons. A dagger strapped to his calf, a knife strapped to his wrist, a gun in his shoulder holster. From there he secured the jian in his coat.
"Ready?" Chris asked. Vin gave him a decisive nod as he pulled on a T-shirt and then his coat.
Fifteen minutes later they stood in the mouth of an alley opposite Joe's bar. It was secluded enough that they would not easily be seen, but also allowed them a view of the front of the bar. Chris stood with his arms folded, reluctant to leave Vin's side. He had promised not to interfere, but Vin believed that about as much as he believed any of the words that came out of Standish's mouth. Vin rested his forehead against Chris' and looked into the other man's eyes, conveying everything they had never needed words to say.
"You lose this one Tanner, and I'll kick your ass," Chris murmured finally, not quite managing to mask his concern. Vin quirked a half-smile.
"With encouragement like that, how could I possibly lose?"
Chris glared at him, but Vin didn't believe for a second that he meant it.
"Smart ass."
"Don't you know it."
Chris pushed Vin against the wall and pressed his body flush against Vin's before he claimed Vin's mouth in a heated kiss full of frustration, concern, and love; because even if he was a stubborn, wisecracking miscreant, he was still everything to Chris.
Finally he stepped back, leaving Vin a little more tousled than usual. With a smirk he crossed the street and disappeared into another alley, this one more concealed from the street.
Vin shook his head as he saw Chris check his gun in his holster before he glanced briefly towards Joe's bar, but saw that nothing had happened yet. Vin moved to lean against the wall opposite Joe's bar as he waited for MacLeod. It was long after everyone had gone home, but over the last week Vin had established that MacLeod would often stay late to close up with Dawson.
Vin didn't have to wait long for the thrum of an Immortal to indicate MacLeod was leaving. He was accompanied by Dawson, who leaned heavily on his cane. Vin stepped forward, into the glare of a streetlight, and waited for MacLeod to approach him. After his surveillance he knew the man's features almost as well as his own, but he addressed him out of formality.
"Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod."
"Yes," the man said, eyeing him warily. "Who are you?"
"Caoimhín."
"We have no quarrel."
"Kol'tec," was all Vin said. With that one word MacLeod's face shifted from surprised to shocked to remorseful. Even with his olive skin his pallor was noticeable.
"I didn't have a choice."
"Choice is what defines us, MacLeod," Vin replied, his expression unreadable.
"I don't want to fight you," MacLeod insisted.
"Every choice has a consequence," Vin warned. His darkly inscrutable gaze shifted to the mortal and MacLeod's posture changed to defensive. Vin gave MacLeod one last glance, loaded with meaning before turning and walking down the alley Chris had gone down. He had scouted this location beforehand and could navigate it with his eyes closed. The trick to fighting, to winning, was to leave as little to chance as possible.
MacLeod watched the other Immortal as he walked into the alley.
"Mac, you don't have to do this," Joe told him urgently.
"Yes, I do," MacLeod replied, his expression distant as he remembered the fight with Kol'tec, and his long friendship with the man.
"What happened with Kol'tec, that wasn't your fault."
MacLeod shook his head.
"I have to do this Joe. I have to end this."
"It already ended at the spring."
"Clearly not," MacLeod said, his expression mournful. "Even if I decided not to do this, what are the chances he'd lay off?" Joe's grim expression told him all he needed to know.
MacLeod followed after the other Immortal. Joe trailed after him at a slower pace, but stopped at the mouth of the alley, where he would be out of the way of the fight.
Caoimhín stood almost casually near the middle of the alley. Simultaneously they both drew their swords. When MacLeod inclined his head, a gesture of acknowledgement demanded in formal duelling, he found the other man to already be circling. With a flash of anger, partly at himself and partly at his opponent, he quickly moved to mirror him.
They circled each other several times before MacLeod, seeing the slightest stumbling from Caoimhín, lunged forward. It only took seeing a darkly satisfied smirk to realise that it had been a feint, but by then it was too late. His momentum made stopping his swing impossible.
Vin dodged the lunge with ease, moving to strike with lightning quick speed. MacLeod only just managed to parry. Vin continued on his offensive advance for several moments until MacLeod managed to twist away, sliding his katana along Vin's jian with a metallic screech. Both men paused, blades and gazes locked together, and took several deep breaths.
In a flurry of movement they turned as one before meeting again in a clash of blades, MacLeod bringing his superior strength to bear for the first time. Vin was forced back a step and then another as he struggled under a barrage of MacLeod's blows. MacLeod managed to score a number of small wounds that Vin hadn't quite been fast enough to avoid.
Vin waited, eyes sharp, for the opportunity he knew was coming. He had been watching MacLeod for a week, watching his training, watching how he moved. Because of his height MacLeod had a tendency to overestimate his reach, if only slightly, but it was enough for Vin to duck into his reach and twist around him, scoring a cut along MacLeod's side. Not as deep as he had hoped, but MacLeod had managed to dodge out of the way at the last moment.
They separated once more, to circle warily. MacLeod was more cautious this time, having realised that he had underestimated his opponent. Vin decided that they were far too evenly matched and was coming up with and discarding a number of plans to put the odds in his favour.
Vin attacked first this time, moving the jian to his left hand just in time to engage MacLeod. He was better with his right hand, but that didn't mean his couldn't fight with his left. While MacLeod was focussed on their sword work Vin curled his right hand into a fist and punched him.
MacLeod staggered a step, surprised by the move. Instead of waiting to regain his balance he lashed out instinctively, catching Caoimhín on the inside of his forearm.
The jian dropped from nerveless fingers and Vin staggered back a few steps, cradling his arm to him, while trying to stem the blood flow. The wound would heal, but he couldn't afford to lose too much blood. Vin decided that at that moment fainting could quite possibly be the worst thing he could do.
MacLeod was surprised when a mortal stepped from the shadows with a raised gun. The look in the man's eyes was chilling.
"The rules – " MacLeod began.
"Chris," Caoimhín said, and something passed between the two men that MacLeod couldn't hope to understand. None-the-less the mortal, Chris, lowered his weapon, though he still glared coldly at MacLeod.
MacLeod placed his sword to the other man's neck, his expression filled with regret.
"I'm sorry," he said as Caoimhín sank to his knees.
Vin shifted the knife subtly from its sheath on his wrist to his hand and knelt, waiting. When MacLeod raised his sword to deal the final stroke Vin rolled in the direction of his sword, and at the same time lashed out with the knife. MacLeod fell heavily to one knee with a strangled shout, his Achilles tendon cut.
Vin discarded the knife and grasped his sword in his right hand, his left arm still healing, and rose to his feet. Not quite what he had planned, but it had worked well enough. He placed the jian to MacLeod's neck.
"I'm not," Vin said, expression cold and mouth set in a grim line. Keeping a sharp eye out for any similar tricks Vin raised his sword.
Methos knocked on the door for a second time as he glanced around impatiently. It had taken him some time to track 'Kevin Tanner' to a hotel room only two blocks from MacLeod's dojo, specifically because the room hadn't been under that name but had been listed under the name of Christopher Larabee. Methos didn't sense any Immortal presence and could hear no one moving within. Methos felt dread settle in the pit of his stomach and he turned and sprinted back to his car.
If Cailtram wasn't in the hotel room then he was out still hunting MacLeod or had already challenged him. Methos quickly pulled out his phone and dialled Joe's number. The phone had hardly begun its first ring when Joe answered.
"Joe, where's-" Methos began, before he was cut off by Joe.
"Mac's been challenged. We're at the bar."
Methos hung up without saying goodbye and drove as quickly as he could without being pulled over until he reached the near empty parking lot of Joe's bar. Only two cars remained. He pulled the car to an abrupt stop in the street and took a quick look around. It looked deserted, but Methos only had to hear the sound of swords clashing once to know where they were. He raced across the parking lot, keeping to the shadows and maintaining his vigilance for any Watchers.
Joe stood at the mouth of the alley, anxiously watching the fight play out, though he made no move to interfere. Methos doubted that he would continue like that if it appeared that MacLeod would lose. In the shadows opposite Joe, a grim-faced blond man stood watching the scene intently with hand ready on his holster. If the man standing further back in the shadows was any indication, the blond man was not a Watcher.
Methos watched in horror as Cailtram fell to his knees. He drew his gun and flicked the safety off hoping he would be in time, but was momentarily surprised when the blond man stepped forward. A short exchange and a flash of movement later, and the Immortals' positions had changed, Methos knew that where MacLeod had hesitated Cailtram wouldn't.
Methos shot first Cailtram and then MacLeod. Both men crumpled to the ground, their swords clattering noisily where they fell. The blond man raised his own gun and aimed it at Methos. Methos slowly put his gun away and stepped forward cautiously.
"I suggest that you take your friend over there back to your hotel room and I'll deal with MacLeod."
The blonde man simply continued to glare suspiciously at him, without lowering his weapon.
"It's alright," Methos said calmly, though he remained wary, "I'm trying to prevent a feud between Immortals."
A feud would be imminent if either of the men died by the other's hand. Connor would be out for blood if Duncan died, not to mention all of Duncan's other friends. Cailtram, despite being untrusting of other Immortals, had managed to gather quite a few people who would call themselves his friend and who would put their own lives on the line in a heartbeat for him. If something were to start its ending would be very messy and very unhappy for everyone involved.
The blond man paused for only a moment before complying. Methos absently took note of the gentle way in which he handled Cailtram's body and took a closer look at the man. There was something familiar about him, Methos decided, but that would have to wait. He turned to MacLeod and heaved a sigh. The Highlander would not be light and Joe would be no help at all.
"I don't know why I put up with this," he moaned. Joe chuckled as he stepped forward.
"Because we offer entertainment in an otherwise dull existence."
Methos rolled his eyes as he went to grab MacLeod's legs. He'd probably just saved the man's life one way or another, there was no reason he had to make him comfortable in the process.
"I really wish MacLeod would stop trying to kill my friends," Methos lamented and he began to drag the Highlander. "I have few enough as it is."
"I thought you didn't know him," Joe objected.
"Can someone ever really know another person?" Methos asked with a smirk. Joe looked like he was about to argue before he heaved a sigh and shook his head in resignation.
In the meantime the blond man had scooped Cailtram into his arms and given the man in the shadows a curt nod. Methos noted that for later as well. This man who was not a Watcher knew about both Immortals and the Watchers. He would have to keep a close eye on him. Methos began to drag MacLeod back to his car. He would have to entrust Joe with calming the Highlander down when he woke up, Methos had another friend he had to placate in the meantime. And this one didn't have MacLeod's code of ethics.
Vin took a painful gasp as he shot up. Immediately there was a soothing hand at his back helping him to lay down and a glass of water pressed to his lips. Vin sank back down to the bed, prying his eyes open to see familiar green ones.
"What the hell happened?" he asked, raising a hand to his head. His hair was damp but he could find no sign of blood. He was sure he had been shot. Head shots always hurt the worst.
"Someone decided to scramble your brains, though I can't say I'm ungrateful."
Vin growled in remembrance. "MacLeod?" he asked as he automatically looked around for his weapons. They were neatly lined up on the chest of drawers and Vin could see that they had been wiped clean. He made a note to himself to clean and polish them again before his next fight with MacLeod.
"He was shot too."
"Who interfered?"
"An Immortal by the name of Adam Pierson. He's only been Immortal for a few years. MacLeod's student, by all accounts," Ezra told him.
Vin tried to push himself up, but Chris placed a firm hand on his chest and pushed him back down. Vin glared at him.
"You will not deny me this."
Chris gave him an exasperated glare.
"No one's denying you anything, but you've just been shot and you lost a lot of blood. For now you need liquids and a shower."
"Who died and made you Nathan?" Vin asked grumpily.
"You," was Chris' curt reply. Vin folded his arms moodily and settled for glaring at him.
"I must report this incident to the Watchers," Ezra told them. "They are suspicious enough as it is, with everything I've neglected to tell them." Chris rose to let him out of the hotel room. Vin watched until Chris had his back turned before he stood with a wince. He pressed a hand to his head as he made his way to the bathroom.
"And where do you think you're going?" Chris asked from the doorway. His arms were folded and he was glaring sternly at Vin. Vin gave him an annoyed look before trying his best wide-eyed, ingenuous look. Chris remained unaffected.
"I don't care if you're Immortal, you were just shot."
"So was MacLeod. We're on equal footing."
"Vin," Chris said, coming forward to grasp Vin's face lightly in his hands. "I accept that you have to fight these battles, but I won't accept you doing so at anything less than your best."
Vin nodded, his body tight with the tension of a fight interrupted. He had all this focus and readiness and nowhere for it to go. Chris knew just how much Vin needed to finish it, but not before he was back to full capacity. Chris herded him into the bathroom and started the shower. He looked Vin over critically.
"I'm not sure I managed to get all the blood out," Chris said as he dug his fingers into Vin's hair. He stripped Vin of his clothes, taking his time to make sure that Vin was whole and alive and there. Fingers lingered over tattoos that he had helped to create, that made Vin look like an untameable creature of the wild, and traced scars that still hadn't faded despite the many years Vin had been Immortal. Sometimes Chris wondered just which one was the wound that had killed Vin, but most of the time he avoided that thought entirely.
"Taking advantage of the recovering wounded?" Vin asked with a smirk, and a hungry look in his eyes that made Chris' heart beat faster.
"Was thinking about it."
"If that's the case, you have too many clothes on Larabee," Vin said as he unbuttoned Chris jeans, while Chris pulled his t-shirt over his head. He then obliged Vin by stepping out of his jeans and boxers. Vin wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him under the warm spray of the shower with him.
Vin was working his way through several warm up exercises in preparation for his next fight with MacLeod. Along with this he envisioned various possibilities of how the fight could proceed and strategies he could use to combat MacLeod. Having actually faced the man he had a great deal more information at his disposal than he had previously. His movement stopped short as he sensed the presence of an Immortal.
There was a sharp knock on the door and Vin nodded briefly to Chris who went to open it. In the doorway stood a tall man with a lean build, sharp hazel eyes and an overly large nose.
"Cei," Vin greeted, his expression indifferent, though his eyes did spark with warm familiarity. Despite this he did not lower his sword. One could never be too careful when it came to Immortals.
"He's the one who shot you," Chris told him, one hand holding a gun discreetly behind his back, eyes never wavering from the man at the door.
"Cailtram, I need to speak with you."
"The Watchers think you're MacLeod's student."
Methos shrugged carelessly. The Watchers thought a lot of things.
"You're his friend," Vin stated
"Yes."
"He is a murderer."
"Aren't we all?"
Vin inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement. He knew Cei was older than him, even if he didn't know by how much. When Immortals reached a certain age they began to see the world differently, to see people differently, and Vin knew that Cei had always understood human nature better than most.
"He murdered Kol'tec."
"Since when is anything ever that simple?"
"What more could there be? Kol'tec was a peaceful man who defended himself but seldom sought out fights, and MacLeod killed him."
"There was a Dark Quickening."
Vin lowered his sword, though he did not put it away, and gestured for Cei to enter.
"Explain."
Methos walked nonchalantly into the room, not commenting on the fact that Cailtram had yet to sheath his sword or that the blond man still held his gun behind his back. He would have done the same in their position. Besides, he had a small arsenal at his disposal as well.
"Do you happen to have any beer around?" Methos asked as he sprawled on the couch without invitation.
"Cei," Vin said, his tone warning.
"Have you heard of a Dark Quickening?" Methos asked Cailtram as he leant forward. Cailtram frowned suspiciously.
"I have heard tales of Quickenings which change the basic nature of a person."
"They're more than just tales. MacLeod has his faults, I'll be the first to admit that, but he is above all a good man."
"You claim his actions were the result of a Dark Quickening?"
"I know they were."
"Your proof?"
"I was right there with him. I cured him, for lack of a better word. Even the most reclusive of Immortals has heard about the MacLeods. They are known for their honour and heroism if nothing else."
While Vin knew that Cei was not averse to lying to get his way, he also knew that he wouldn't have gotten involved if he didn't have some investment in both him and MacLeod. He was willing to give Cei the benefit of the doubt because he considered the man as much of a friend as he considered any Immortal.
"I will back off for now," Vin finally said.
"A deferred sentence?" Methos asked sardonically.
"Something like that."
Methos nodded, willing to take what he could get. He doubted that Cailtram and MacLeod would ever get along, not necessarily because MacLeod had killed Kol'tec but because they lived by different codes. They both considered the well-being of their family and friends above all else, but where MacLeod was protector and defender, Cailtram was hunter and tracker. Where MacLeod fought openly and brazenly, Cailtram used stealth. Where MacLeod was a warrior, Cailtram was a survivor. Methos knew that they wouldn't be friends, but he hoped that he could get Cailtram to at least tolerate MacLeod's existence.
"Will you consent to meet with him?"
There was a long pause in which Vin considered denying Cei's request. Finally he nodded because while he had consented to back off he would always feel at least some doubt about his decision until he met with MacLeod and judged the man's story for himself.
"There's a church, two blocks from here. Will you be there tonight?"
"We'll be there," Vin told him as Chris came to stand by his side.
Methos nodded, preparing to leave now that he had accomplished what he had set out to do. He took a moment to look the blond man over, trying to figure just what seemed so familiar about him. Suddenly his eyes widened and he looked to Cailtram for clarification. Cailtram gave him a short nod.
"How is that possible?" Methos asked. Cailtram shrugged.
"The simple fact that it is, is enough for me."
Methos looked from one man to the other for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. Even at 5000 years he could come across something he hadn't encountered before. He made a note to question Cailtram about it later, when they had more time. Methos bid them farewell. For the moment he had to get MacLeod to agree to the meeting as well. MacLeod would be easy though. A little guilt-trip, a little playing the friendship card and he would be willing.
Once the other Immortal was gone Chris rounded on Vin.
"He called you Cailtram."
"Yes," Vin replied, looking away. "It was my name Before."
There was an intensity and emphasis there and it took Chris a moment to realise what he meant.
"Before your first death," Chris said, to which Vin nodded. "You've never told me where you came from."
"I am Cruithne. My people inhabited Caledonia." At Chris' blank look Vin elaborated, "the Romans called us Picts."
Chris' eyes widened in surprise. He may not know much about the Picts, but as a boy he'd been interested in Roman military history. Certainly the Picts were to be admired for holding off the Roman army for centuries.
"Who's Circinn?" he asked, because he knew that somehow that name tied in with all of this and was somehow fundamentally tied to him. Vin smiled, his expression full of emotions Chris couldn't readily identify.
"You are," Vin replied before carding his fingers through Chris hair and pulling the other man to him. He silenced any further questions Chris may have had with a kiss.
Chris let Vin get away with it with the intention of bringing the topic up at a later date, when he wasn't quite so distracted by the intoxicating feeling of Vin in his arms.
MacLeod, Methos and Joe were seated in a pew near the front of the church when the door opened and two men entered. All of them tensed and Vin and MacLeod eyed each other warily.
"MacLeod," Vin greeted carefully, still standing just inside the doorway. MacLeod rose to his feet.
"Caoimhín."
"Adam," Vin said with only the slightest hesitation, "has asked me to hear your side of the story."
"Kol'tec was my friend too. If there had been another option I would have taken it."
"Did you even look for another solution? You were helped. Did you even try to help him?" Vin snarled. Chris placed a hand on his shoulder, not to restrain him but to remind him. Vin visibly had to reign in his anger. He knew that sometimes in the heat of battle other solutions were hard to see. It just grated that his friend had lost his life because of this man's ignorance.
Vin's expression was distasteful, but he nodded his acquiescence none-the-less. He was grateful for the support that Chris provided. He knew that whatever happened Chris would have his back.
"I am sorry," MacLeod told him sincerely. Vin merely glared at him.
"Until next time," Vin said. MacLeod visibly bristled.
"I'm not the one who was a head-hunter," MacLeod responded angrily. Behind him Methos winced. The comment did not garner the reaction MacLeod had thought it would though. Instead of being offended or defensive Vin smiled coolly.
"We're Immortals, MacLeod. We're a little of everything eventually."
Somehow MacLeod was sure that was a threat.
"How about we all go to a bar and drink to burying hatchets?" Methos suggested. He didn't think he'd be taken up on it, but the comment had the desired effect. The two Immortals' attention was now focussed on him and the tension had dissipated, if only a little.
"We need to head back to Denver," Chris stated. His voice, despite being soft, carried authority.
"Cei," Vin acknowledged with a short nod as he turned and followed Chris out.
Methos nodded in return, but couldn't help but feel relieved. It would probably be an exceptionally good idea to keep the two men apart for a few centuries at least. Of course, that was easier said than done. While he could keep tabs on MacLeod, Cailtram was another matter entirely. He wished he could give Cailtram the benefit of the doubt, but he knew that the man would just be waiting for an excuse to finish what he had started.
"What's this about Cei?" Joe asked as they made their own way out of the church. Methos rolled his eyes and wondered how long he'd be fending off questions about that for.
Travis answered his phone on the first ring. He was sure that the last week alone had knocked a few months off his life. Worry for Team 7 must have amounted to at least a decade of his life by now.
"Assistant Director Travis," the voice on the other end began and he recognised it immediately.
"Standish," he said, not sure whether to be even more worried, or relieved.
"We're coming home."
Travis glanced skyward and thanked whatever deity watched over reckless, lunatic heroes. They were safe and for the moment that was all that mattered. He knew that within a week at most they would be back to endangering their lives in the line of duty.
"So it's done?"
"For now."
Travis hung up the phone with a feeling of foreboding. Despite how good Team 7 was, and they were the best, when things went down someone always got hurt, and one of these days it wouldn't be the bad guys.
fin
Let me know what you like, what you don't like, what works or what doesn't. I can't improve if I don't know where I'm going wrong.