Title: You come with the dead who people my dreams

Fandom: Highlander/White Collar/Leverage

Disclaimer: not my characters

Warnings: spoilers for the Horsemen arc; fuure!fic for Leverage

Pairings: Methos/Neal; Kronos/Neal; Eliot/Hardison/Parker

Rating: PG13

Wordcount: 435

Point of view: third

Prompt: Highlander/White Collar/Leverage/The Losers. Methos, Neil, Elliot, and Jensen. Neil was student to War, Elliot to Pestilence, and Jensen to Famine.

Eliot is walking home from the gym, planning what he'll cook Hardison and Parker for dinner, when the buzz hits. He doesn't react, just keeps walking with only a quarter of his attention. He focuses his senses outward and can separate two separate buzzes: one he recognizes, one he doesn't.

Methos. No, recently Adam Pierson, but not anymore. Matthew Adamson, as of two weeks ago.

But what is he doing here? They haven't spoken in seven hundred years, not since Eliot (then Hector) helped him with security for Silas' haven. Eliot had considered hunting him down when he learned of Silas' death, since only Methos could've killed him, but after a few days' thought, he decided that while might may not make right, Silas was a big boy. Old, strong, and would've chosen Methos' hand to kill him, anyway. Plus, Eliot was busy with that goddamned monkey.

Matthew Adamson steps into Eliot's way, a shorter, prettier shadow behind him. "Eliot Spencer," Matthew says, "this is my younger brother, Neal."

Eliot looks the kid over, and Neal meets his eyes straight on.

Younger than Methos, certainly. But older than Eliot by at least a millennium.

"Matthew," Eliot replies, politely nodding at Neal. "Been awhile."

"Just wanted to let you know we're in town," Matthew tells him. "Be here about a week, most likely, then we'll move on."

"Thanks for the head's up," Eliot says. "We should meet for drinks, catch up."

"Sounds good." Matthew steps closer, lightly grips Eliot's shoulder. "Day after tomorrow, then? We'll meet you at that bar you frequent. Around six?"

"Fine," Eliot says shortly, ready to be done. Parker's probably already at his place. If Hardison gets there before Eliot's present to supervise? He shudders to think what'll happen to his apartment.

Matthew backs off, meeting Neal's eyes for a moment. Neal nods and turns, sauntering along the street. "He was Kronos' favorite," Matthew says in the language Eliot had first known, nearly two thousand years ago. "Had a bit of a mishap recently, found himself lost without a clue."

Methos peeks through, staring at Eliot with an ancient, dangerous gaze. "Someone has been hunting him, Yehudi, and we've yet to discover who or why."

"I'll keep an eye out, Old Man," Eliot promises.

Matthew smiles, says, "We'll see you soon," and follows Neal down the street.

Eliot walks back to his apartment, chases Parker out of the kitchen, fusses at Hardison for doing something to his laptop, and throws together the best meal they've had since the last time he cooked for them.

He'll worry about his uncle and cousin tomorrow.