Note for this scene: In the very first episode, Blair cites Sir Richard Burton as discovering tribesmen with enhanced senses and coining the term "Sentinel".

The lecture was to be given by a Dr. Adam Pierson. The subject was "Culture and Day-to-Day Life in Ancient Egypt."

It would be amusing, at least, to see how close this lecturer came. The last one to give a similar presentation had missed the mark by a mile.

Blair Sandburg grinned to himself as he made his way across campus to the auditorium. This was the sort of thing that kept him coming back to academia, even after three thousand years. Watching humanity and its perception of itself change was the most fascinating work he had ever known, and he got an enjoyment out of it that kept him from becoming world-weary.

Blair picked his way across the rows of chairs, finding his favorite spot right in the center of the lecture hall. He pulled out his notebook, ready for observation.

The buzz hit him just as he pulled out his pen. He looked up sharply, blue eyes searching for the source.

There. Just entering the stage was the man he assumed was the lecturer.

Dr. Pierson is immortal? This might be more interesting than I thought.

Then, obviously sensing his own presence, the good Doctor turned and scanned the crowd. Blue eyes met brown and both grew wide.

After the lecture, Blair approached the stage, the air of a eager student masking his nervousness.

"Dr. Pierson? My name is Blair Sandburg. The research I'm doing calls on some of the sources you cited and I was wondering if you had time to discuss a few things with me?"

Pierson spared a quick glance for the people milling around the room.

"Sure. I was just about to go get some lunch – would you care to join me?"

Blair grinned wide and nodded. "Just let me get my coat. I'll meet you outside?"

Pierson nodded, returning the smile as he turned to pack up his presentation.

Outside the auditorium, they kept up the farce for a few yards – just until they turned the corner. Then Pierson pulled Blair into a swift, hard hug.

"Imhotep," he whispered. He pulled away and held his former student at arms length, looking him over. "You haven't changed a bit. What in God's name are you doing studying at a backwater university like Ranier?"

"Watching to see how badly they mess up the histories. Man, Methos, it is good to see you alive and snarky. It's been, what, a century? You dropped off the face of the planet!"

Methos laughed as they turned towards a little outdoor student café on the edge of the campus.

"I come out of hibernation once or twice a decade, if only to restock my beer. Tell me, kid, what are you up to these days? Other than making life hell for your professors."

Imhotep grinned, bouncing a little as he walked. "You'll never believe this."

Methos gave him a look. "After 5000 years? Try me."

"Alright. Remember the research I was doing when we last met, in the late 1800's?"

"Vaguely. You were calling yourself Burton then, as I recall. Researching myths about some sort of tribal watchman?"

"Yeah. At the time I was in Africa – knighted by Queen Victoria, no less – studying tribal structure. I noticed many tribes had a watchman with enhanced senses. Sight, hearing, or smell, usually. Well, I'd been trying to figure out what could cause such a thing. When the human genome was discovered, I decided it must be genetic. It took years of research but I've finally tracked down a full-fledged Sentinel."

"And now that you've found him, you've latched on with both hands and your teeth. That explains why you're out here instead of in a city with a higher life expectancy."

"Yeah, well. I think I'm going to have to tell him the truth about me at some point. He's family, now – soon he's gonna wonder why I never grow old. Or I might get myself killed in front of him again – "

"Now how did you manage that?"

"Got myself drowned. New one, for me, and not something I'd care to experience again – give me a bullet any day. Fortunately Jim went all hero on me and performed CPR; officially that's what brought me back." He sighed as they sat down at their table. "Unofficially, he managed some sort of mystical Sentinel thing that revived me a lot faster than normal. If he hadn't, I'd have been dead for a couple hours at least. And then I would have woken up in a morgue, and would have had to pick up and leave everything behind, again, and lose my life's work."

"Sounds pretty crazy. What are you getting into that would lead you to be drowned?"

They stopped for a moment as the waitress approached, and gave her their drink orders. She turned and left and they resumed their conversation, albeit in a quieter tone.

"Jim works with the Cascade PD. Major Crimes, not Homicide, thank god – I could just imagine having to investigate my own won challenges – but as his Guide he needs me to be able to control his senses so I'm out in the field a lot. It's…different. It sort of feels nice to be out doing something physical, besides fighting for my life every once in a while."

"Yeah – I know what you mean."

The conversation continued through soup and sandwiches, and it was nearly an hour before Methos looked at his watch and sighed.

"Imhotep, I'd better go. Plane's leaving in an hour."

The younger man pouted a little, something which he knew got his teacher every time. Methos rolled his eyes and quickly scribbled an address on a napkin.

"Here. My friend owns this bar – if you want to get a hold of me in the next few years, he'll probably know where I am. Use this alias, or my true name – he knows both – and tell him you're an old student of mine."

He laid out a couple of bills to cover his half of the tab and clasped Imhotep's hand warmly.

"Watch your head, kid. I wanna run into you again next century."

The response to this little series was much greater than I anticipated – thank you so much, you guys!

Despite my one flamer/spammer (yes, one, I was informed that Malefica and Samael were in fact the same person) I have no intention of stopping or changing this series in any way. To be frank, I didn't think anyone would read this – the fact that so many of you have and are showing your support makes me really happy. And I'm not going to bother blocking said flamer – if s/he was really serious in their complaints s/he would not be so obnoxious about it. My guess is that s/he's doing this for their own amusement, and not out of actually being offended. Therefore, I will continue to be amused by the flames, should they continue to be hurled.

A couple of people have asked if I'm going to make these into full-blown stories. The answer is probably not – if only because I have four other works-in-progress going right now (two here and two on Fictionpress), plus college, work, and, yanno, my social life. But if someone else wants to take one of these scenes – or hell, all of them – and run with it, that'd be fine with me. Just make sure you send me a link!