Hey, Adam! Duncan's head turned at the shout, wondering if the new century had killed a few of his IQ points. What he was doing there was beyond him. Methos just said that he wanted to meet a friend and had insisted that Duncan come with him. Duncan never suspected that this friend would be in the navy, or worse yet, a member of the seaQuest.
Duncan sighed to himself. Nothing wrong with that on the surface, but MacLeod was the sort of person that believed in keeping a low profile, and there was simply no way to keep one of those while serving on the flagship. He sighed again. This UEO was a good idea, but he'd seen many good ideas come and go over the last four hundred years and decided that waiting to see what would come from the new life humanity was making for itself under the sea would be the prudent thing.
Of course, Methos never was a prudent man. Ben! Over here! the older immortal waved madly, sticking his hand above the crowd of families. Then Duncan paused as a familiar, low throb started at the base of his skull. Out of the corner of his eye, Duncan saw Methos subtly straighten up and take a closer look at every one around; a natural reaction for any immortal feeling the buzz that signalled another was close.
The two men fought their way through the crush of people and up to the head of the docks, where the huge ship was berthed on the surface and Duncan gave a low whistle. It was nothing if not impressive.
Another man was fighting his way through the people to get to the two immortals. He was a little over average height, with dark hair and blue eyes, but filled out the uniform nicely, showing a love of the gym equipment. MacLeod also noted that neither arm was larger than the other, which told him that this immortal had no preference for a sword arm.
Methos appeared to not care for that as he rushed to embrace the other man, shaking his hand madly and grinning like a fool. You salty, annoying, irritating...
You just listed all my best features, Adam.
If those are your best, remind me to stay away from your worst, Methos grinned, then turned to Duncan. Duncan Macleod of the Clan MacLeod. Meet Ben Krieg, of... well... insanity. Duncan nodded his head in greeting, which Kreig returned.
Connor's clansman, right? He spoke of you in the some of his letters.
You knew Connor?
A friend for a number of years. I was sorry to hear that he died. I hadn't spoken to him in a long while, but it's never easy to lose a friend.
MacLeod said, already feeling at ease around Krieg. Then something occured to him. What's your job on your ship?
Supply and Moral officer, Krieg grinned at him. Ah, that explained a few things. Any moral officer would have to be convincing and personable to be good at the job. And given how easily Krieg was able to drop Duncan's guard, this guy was good at his job.
Why am I not surprised? Methos shook his head. Tell me, do any of the mortals you work with still have their sanity?
For the most part, Kreig agreed. But they're mortals; it's not like they have much to begin with. Relax, I'm just kidding, he hastily added at the annoyed look that crossed Duncan's face.
Yep, you're still the same Ben I knew. Better get used to this, MacLeod. He's like this sometimes, Methos interrupted with an over-exaggerated eye-roll.
Duncan just rolled his own eyes in agreement and turned back to the ship. That's a nice ship you've got there. What's it like to serve on?
Not bad, actually. It's big, but with a small crew so there's plenty of room. I'm told that it's an experiment in long-duration voyages, to see what are the best conditions for keeping any crews emotionally healthy without taking a break from work.
And they get to deal with you. They're all dead, Methos deadpanned. Think you could give us a tour?
Sure, that was planned for anyway. The flagship and all that stuff. You gonna come? Krieg asked Duncan.
Only for a while, I have things to take care of involving Connor's estate here in New York.
I understand, Krieg nodded, Shall we get goi- oh, hello, Lieutenant Commander, he said as a shorter woman came up beside him.
Lieutenant Krieg, I do hope that you're not shirking you duties during our disembarking, she said in an official voice, though her eyes were glinting with humour.
Moi? Would I ever dare do such a thing?
she replied without even pausing. Duncan shared another worried glance with Methos. What sort of person was Krieg if he had that sort of reputation? Just make sure that you do have everything done before you take off on your shore leave.
Yes ma'am, he saluted, though there was no mistaking it for an official one. The woman seemed amused by it and smiled before walking off. Krieg watched her walk off, his eyes never leaving her body. Duncan paused for a moment, looking after the woman. There was something about her...
Methos laughed and clapped Krieg on the shoulder. I see you're still the ladies man, Ben. You really haven't changed at all.
Why change what's perfect? Krieg answered and led the two men off to the boat for their tour.
Normally the galley was a nice place to go and socialise with the crew, to get a good grip on the current mood and gossip. Not this day. Almost the entire crew had disembarked already, leaving less than a skeleton group behind, and even they would be leaving soon enough.
Though he had insisted otherwise, Jonathan decided that staying and helping the Captain with his work would be the best thing, and had enlisted the rest of the bridge crew to help out. So Ford, O'Neil, and Ortiz were in the galley, trying to make heads or tails of the mass of paperwork with little luck.
Then Ben sauntered in, two civilians travelling in his wake. Both men wore long trench coats and occasionally had to move out of the way as Ben swept his arm around the galley, extolling the virtues of the eatery while speaking fast enough to make understanding him difficult at times. The taller of the two civilians looked on with a pained expression on his face, like he wanted to be anywhere but with Krieg. The other was just smiling and talking just as quickly, joining in with the grand gestures.
Let me guess, Ben. You make sure this galley has the best food, right? Of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that you have to eat it yourself, now does it?
No, nothing at all, Ben said with a straight face, and the other men laughed. Allow me to introduce you to the bridge crew of this boat. Commander Ford, Lieutenant O'Neill, and Petty Officer Ortiz, Ben continuted, nodding at each man in turn, who murmered their own greetings to the two visitors. This is Duncan MacLeod and Adam Pierson. Two friends I've been meaning to meet for some time now.
So, Ben. Are you gonna ask us to sit and offer a drink, or are you going to make us stand here all night?
I thought I might make you stand, yeah, but I've got something else in mind. And as for that drink... Ben trailed off, rummaged around in the big fridge attached to the galley, and came out with a large crate, filled to the brim with alochol. Peirson's eyes lit up.
You are a good, good friend, he said and tore into the crate, avidly searched through bottle after bottle. MacLeod just cast a pained look over at the others seated at the table, and Jonathan just shook his head. There went any idea that Ben was meeting up with any immortals. No immortal would ever be so... immature, no matter how old. So Jonathan answered MacLeod's questions about the boat and UEO while Ben and Peirson poured over the bottles and glasses collected.
And the Captain would pick that exact time to walk into the galley, looking for his own snack break, no doubt. Jonathan sighed. All that effort and guessing, only to find that Ben was meeting some people that were no older than himself was rather anti-climactic.
Then MacLeod suddenly announced that he'd run out of time and had to be leaving. Ben stood up himself and walked the other man back to the mooring and show him off of the boat. As soon as the galley hatch closed behind them, Captain Bridger turned to Pierson and asked directly, How long have you known Ben?
Ben? God, it feels like centuries. You know how Ben can be. Adam groaned, and Jonathan stopped dead in his tracks. The tone of voice, the way the other man said it... as little as a week before, Jon would have been nodding and commiserating, all the while regretting the fact that he was stuck with such an annoying, incompetent officer. With a rush of shame, Jon realised just how easily he'd been sucked in by Krieg's idiot routine.
But the Captain only examined Pierson closer and asked frankly, How many centuries? Pierson started to say something, but finally looked up from the bottles and caught the expression on Bridger's face.
Something must've clicked for the other man because he didn't finish saying what he'd started. Instead he shut his own mouth and gazed back at the captain. Ben came back in, saw the look being exchanged, and called aloud, They know, Adam.
Pierson's head whipped around to stare at Ben fast enough that Ford thought he might have hurt something. Ben just shrugged underneath the glare. Pierson's gaze softened and he turned back to the Captain.
A few centuries here, a few there... a while, in other words, and Ford felt as if he'd been kicked in the gut. Not only had he fallen for Krill's lies, but he completely mis-judged this other fellow.
Ah. Well, carry on, then, Bridger said calmly and walked off as if nothing more serious than a stain on the floor had been the topic of conversation. The two immortals just looked after him before moving to the opposite hatch to continue the tour.
How old is your captain? Pierson asked softly.
Bridger? Late forties, I'd guess.
Late forties? Pierson whistled low as Ben held the door open. Isn't he a little young to be so smart?
You're telling me, Ben snorted. But hey, if you think he's bad, just wait until you meet Lucas.
Who's Lucas? Pierson asked as they walked through.
Ford just sat back in mild shock at the silence. He glanced over at the other two and got slightly stunned looks in reply. When Ben meant old friends he really did mean old friends.
Then Jon just shook his head and went back to his paperwork, hoping to ignore that nagging voice in the back of his head that said something was up with those two immortals.