Duncan was already hovering in the lobby when Remus and Sirius herded Ginny and Ron out to a taxi while Hermione coaxed Harry over to the Immortal when she caught sight of him. His smile was genuine, though he kept visibly checking himself from watching the bank of elevators for Methos. Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was quarter after six already, and heaved a quiet sigh of frustration.

Remus smiled softly as he and Sirius joined the others. "Where's Adam?"

"God only knows. Our limo's already here, and he's late. Again." Duncan grit his teeth as he saw the older man strolling over to them, completely unconcerned. "You're late." It was a veritable growl, but Methos waved his hand at the notion.

"I knew you'd wait for me." He grinned at the others. "Shall we go? We don't want to miss our reservations." With that, he swept off towards the limo waiting in the street.

Harry laughed, leaning down to whisper to Hermione. "They sound like Uncle Remus and Uncle Sirius. Like a show, almost. Dinner, two shows, and a limo. Good night."

"Hmm." Hermione smiled, but didn't respond. She was watching the four men climb into the back of the car, still bickering. Sirius was complaining about Remus' lack of faith in him, and as she joined them inside the opulent vehicle, she realized why. She turned wide eyes to Harry. "If you do anything tonight that embarrasses me or Remus, I will kill you."

"What could I possibly do?" Harry's grin, and the conspiratory way that he winked at Sirius, belied the innocence coating those words.

Methos snorted when he saw how the stark clean lines of the restaurant fit Duncan's personality perfectly, right down to the Euro-Asian fushion menu. As they were seated in the fantastically busy restaurant, he leaned across and asked how the other Immortal had managed to get a reservation on such short notice.

"It helps to know the right people." Smugly, he picked up the wine list and studied it, refusing to say more. Methos snorted again, turned to the others, and raised an eyebrow.

"That means that he slept with someone important." Without looking at MacLeod, he stared at the unique glassworks on the nearby wall. "So which is Amanda sleeping with, the owner of the hotel or the restaurant?"

"Hotel." Duncan grinned. "The restaurant owner isn't rich enough. Nor does he have any jewels worth stealing."

"Ah." Methos waited as the waitor dealt with their drink and appetizer orders. "As you'll discover, Sirius, there are many different types of people joining us in this quest for the prize. Some are more interesting than others. Amanda is interesting, but one should always keep a hand on their wallet around her."

After the silence where the wizards tried to decide if Methos were serious or not, talk turned to other things; Immortality and Quidditch, Wizarding politics, exactly who Harry was...Duncan was amazed at the entire hidden world that he'd never heard anything of. Which, as Methos was quick to point out, was how most people felt about Immortals and Watchers.

The appetizers came then, Remus shuddering quietly as he watched the delicate shrimp popovers begin to gain Harry's, and Sirius', attention. As soon as the waitor was gone, two exploded, splattering shrimp and herbs across the plate.

Methos sat back, watching with amazement as yet another popover...popped. "I didn't think pastry could do that."

"It's all in how much oomph you add to the shrimp..." Harry's exitement waned as he caught sight of the twin expressions of unhappiness on Hermione's and Remus' faces. "Uncle Sirius taught me. It's his fault."

"Don't bring me into this. I was behaving myself for once." The AniMagus raised his hands in mock innocence.

"Oh yes. You only popped one of those first two, right, Padfoot. Not at all responsible for any of the other six?" Remus' voice had a sarcastic twist to it, but his glare never moved from his honorary godson.

"I can't be blamed for past indiscretions, Moony."

"Finish your appetizer, Harry, our dinners are coming." Remus' sigh was long-suffering, and resignation filled his eyes. "No more explosions. That goes for you as well, Sirius."

Ducking his head, the boy muttered an apology as he finished what was still unexploded on his plate. He was the picture of contrition, but neither Remus or Hermione was fooled - Harry's eyes kept meeting Sirius', and the older man would grin.

Dinner finished with barely any other problems, though at one point Remus quietly muttered a spell to counteract the charm that Sirius had placed on Harry's dinner plate. "Enough, Sirius. I've signaled for the check, so you'll only need to behave a few minutes more."

Chuckling, Duncan slid his credit card into the bill, not even checking the total. Before either of the wizards could protest, he shook his head. "Four hundred years is a long time to leave money in a bank."

"Let him pay. I always do." Methos toasted MacLeod with his beer, washing down the last of the expensive meal.

"He's supposed to pay for you."

"You'd think that you'd be doing even better, since you're older." Harry and Sirius laughed as they talked over one another; Remus sighed again and finished his wine.

As Duncan signed the credit slip, Methos rose. "Why should I spend the money that I worked so hard for?"

"Pillaging and burning peasants takes a lot out of you, right, Methos?" Duncan's laughter had a slight bitter edge to it, and Methos sulked as they left the restaurant and piled back into the limo.

"You sack a couple of villages and no one wants to let you forget." He raised an eyebrow. "That's what I get for dating the Prophesied 'Chosen One', I suppose."

"You interfere in human affairs?" Remus' eyes lit up at this new information.

"We all pick sides, Remus. Some of us because we have to for survival, some of us because we cannot keep from meddling." Methos shrugged gracefully. "Sometimes we're in the right. Sometimes we're only right in the context of the times."

"And sometimes some of us get written up in religious texts as the harbinger of the Apocalypse." Duncan shook his head, grinning at the looks of disbelief on the wizards' faces. "Immortals are all over history. Roman generals, and famous poets, leaders of pagan armies..."

"Rock stars and antiques dealers and gourmet chefs." Methos stretched his legs out, winking at the two kids. "When I was your age, written language didn't exist in most of the world."

"And Uncle Sirius is one of you?"

"Yep." Methos hesitated, glancing at Duncan, who shrugged. "Actually...we think that you might be as well, Remus."

"What?" Shock crossed the werewolf's face, held him frozen.

"There's a...preliminary buzz to someone who hasn't had their first death yet. Most Immortals can't sense it - you have to be either very old and experienced, or very powerful, or both."

"You buzz, Remus, but we can't be sure. There's no way to tell short of killing you."

Sirius put a protective arm around his lover. "I don't like that plan."

"Not plan, theory." Methos stopped as he felt the limo pull to a stop. "We can talk more about it later. Let's just enjoy the play tonight." As everyone piled out onto the street and into the theatre, he muttered, "And be thankful it's not the seventy-millionth time I've had to sit through the 'Scottish Play' for MacLeod."

Everyone was quiet after the play, Hermione half-asleep as she leaned on Harry to the limo. "Are all Muggle plays like that?"

"What do you mean, 'Mione?" Harry rested his cheek on her hair as they snuggled on one of the benches.

"Well...Did anyone else notice that Hamlet and Horatio seemed to be...dating?"

"There's quite a bit of subtextual evidence to that in the play, but I'll admit that this particular drama troupe took it a few steps further."

Methos leaned back, his arm flung around MacLeod's shoulders. "What say you, o Scottish nobleman? You knew Billy Shakespeare, didn't you?"

"I...uh...may have met him a couple of times." A faint blush rose on Duncan's cheeks. "I was shanghied into acting a few times."

"The way I heard it, you made a particularly fetching Kate in Taming of the Shrew."

"Shut up." Duncan slid away from Methos' arm, and continued. "There's a lot of homosexual undercurrents in most of Shakespeare's works, but I've always felt that he had a particular bite to it with Hamlet."

"There was certainly an understanding between them in this version. Ophelia seemed to be more of an impediment to their relationship than Hamlet was in love with her." Remus tilted his head as he glanced at Sirius. "I wish you'd managed to read through more of this playwright's work."

"I managed MacBeth, didn't I? I thought my vision of that play was smashingly funny." Sirius shrugged, shifting so that his wand stopped jabbing him in the kidney.

"Don't talk about MacBeth, please." Methos groaned. "I've sat through that one waaaaay too many times. It is, after all, MacLeod's people."

"Remus' too. What is it about Scotsmen that draw them so much to insanity and murder?" Sirius ducked Remus' punch, grinning. "Aww, Hermione's asleep."

"She actually stayed awake for the whole play." Harry grinned sheepishly. "I might have fallen asleep for a little bit here and there."

"Do you need help getting her up to the rooms?"

"Nah. You go out and have fun, Uncle Sirius." He tugged her out of the limo, picking her up in his arms once they were out on the street, and nodded thanks to the doorman as he carried her into the hotel.

"Alcohol and talking? We can give you some idea of what to expect, Remus, Sirius." Methos threw an arm around Duncan's shoulders as they walked into the lobby.

Remus glanced at Sirius, nodding, and the AniMagus squeezed his hand. "That'd be smashing. We've got quite a few questions for you."

"Especially in regards to how this...this buzz...might be affected by my...lunar challenges." The prim set to Remus' mouth made Sirius break into laughter.

"He means he's a werewolf." The stage whisper carried to the Immortals, who glanced at one another and shrugged.

"We don't know. It's not like there are many Immortal wizards...or werewolves."

"I know some people we could call, though." Duncan grinned. "Let's take it one step at a time, gentlemen."