A/N: Sorry, another Duncan PoV chapter... But it involves plot! So that's OK, right? :) I really do want to get Quatre & Trowa more involved, but the plot doesn't allow me atm, and I refuse to give all of the pilots a big role in the fic purely because they're there! It's a Duncan/Methos/Duo-centric fic after all... I will have a scene for Q's birthday though in the future... This is a whole chapter with 'Fei... (And he's actually my least favourite to write out of the 5... Too formal... o.O I hope I've got his characterisation right...)

I'm hoping my beta for this chapter will send it back with all the problems with 'Fei's 'voice' sorted, but I thought I'd get it up... I'll replace if it ML thinks it needs changes!

Hope that I'm not doing too many subplots - they WILL come together in the end. I hope!

Chapter 17

The plane had barely hit the landing strip before Duncan's phone had beeped with a message, Duo's mirroring it seconds later. Strangely enough, Keturi hadn't been at either the University or his apartment, and the Commander was requesting that they both report to the office as soon as they touched down.

That had lead to several hours of meetings with both himself and his partner dodging the truth with the equivalent skill of avoiding flying bullets. It hadn't helped that Une was well aware that the Deathscythe pilot didn't lie and had directed some very blunt questions towards him. Eventually however they'd been released, both feeling like they'd been run through Duo's first mission again, with the woman's searching look following them out the room.

Reaching the barge without incident that evening felt almost like an achievement, and Duncan let himself in from the rain storm that had started to brew about mid-afternoon with a sigh of relief, unsheathing his sword from his coat and placing it on the rest by the door before hanging his coat up to drip onto the floor and releasing his hair from its ponytail. He was digging in his drawers for a towel and something to replace his sopping shirt when a calm voice came from the sofa and all his senses jumped to high alert, his hand reaching for the katana even as he knew it wasn't an Immortal he faced.

"Cloud."

Duncan blinked as onyx eyes beneath a wet slicked back ponytail rose from the couch, and he brought his muscles under control, running his eyes around the room to check for any disturbances. "Chang. How did you... Wait, no, I can guess." He sighed, making a mental note to upgrade the alarm system and lock. "What did you need?"

"Firstly, I need apologise for letting myself in. It was rude of me, and entirely unprofessional, to presume that I'd be welcome, but the weather..." he tailed off at the crack of thunder.

"If it's important enough that you come out in the middle of a storm to talk to me then I suppose I'll not press charges," the Scot replied, hoping that the light tone as he towelled his hair dry would alleviate Dragon's worry.

The younger man nodded sharply. "Thank you, Cloud. I am in your debt. And what I am about to ask will put me there further. What I need is your help. I have a mission to carry out, and while Sally is an excellent partner, she does not have the skills required for this assignment."

"And those skills would be?"

The Chinese pilot stood then, moving over to where he'd placed the katana on its stand. He winced inwardly, hoping that his sparring partner didn't ask why he was carrying around a sharp metal sword. If Preventer were looking into the decapitator murders then he couldn't risk the slightest hint that he was involved.

"You carry a katana that has been well used." It was a simple statement as Wufei studied the sword, not touching it, but examining it with the air of a connoisseur. "If I did not know that you were an honourable man..." He trailed off, and Duncan was glad that the boy was turned away from him and couldn't see the slight guilty grimace. Then he saw Chang's raised eyebrow in the polished steel and groaned silently at the shift in the other agent's body language as the suddenly wary pilot turned to regard him.

His mind churned, trying to find some way of explaining his grimace other than explaining Immortality to the man. The onyx eyes just stayed fixed on him firmly, one of the pilot's hands straying towards his gun. "Many military men carry swords, including yourself."

"I carried mine in war, not in peace. And Preventer is not the military." The dark eyes studied him for a moment. "Are you not an honourable man, Duncan MacLeod?

Oh yes, the Asian boy was too perceptive by half. He'd become used to his partner's insight, but it was easy to forget that all the pilots were as skilled. "I am as honourable as you feel I am, Chang Wufei," he replied calmly in fluent Chinese, holding his hands open at his side. "If you are implying that I may have something to do with the recent murders, I swear I have committed none of the murders." It was true, as he'd told Duo, killing another Immortal could not be seen as murder once you knew the whole story, and anyway, he'd always disposed of the body. He switched back to English then with what he hoped was a sad shrug. "I knew one of the victims." Actually, he'd known at least two of them by name, one a 340-odd year old who had a reputation for a bad temper and winning fights more by luck than skill, and the other a slightly older head hunter that the world was better off without. "What did you need my help for, Dragon? If it's something to do with Preventer, surely Water..."

Chang looked uncomfortable for a moment, the expression not suiting the stern features. "I'm not doing this for Preventer," he muttered, "This is personal."

Well, that explained why the pilot hadn't approached him at work, and went some way to explain why the other agent wasn't involved, although he suspected the curly haired woman would assist Dragon if he asked. He just waited patiently however, watching as the man glanced to the sword and back at him. Either the Gundam pilot would trust him, or he wouldn't, it was his choice. After a long minute, he gestured to the sofa again, pointedly moving away from his weapon to collapse onto the chair next to the couch. As he lent forward to remove his soaking shoes and socks, he was relieved to see the olive skinned youth come round the side of the furniture and perch on the edge of the seat.

"You've never given me a reason to doubt you yet, Duncan MacLeod," Wufei said slowly, the black eyes still cautious, "But why do you carry a sword? "

Duncan nodded, using the pause to marshal his thoughts into some form of order and deciding on a half truth. "I'm more skilled with melee than a gun, and if the murderer attacks me then I've got a greater chance of fending him off with a sword."

The pilot frowned, "You have a better chance of disabling the enemy with a gun."

"If you can get a clean shot," he countered. "Given that all the murders have been carried out by edged weaponry and no ballistics have been found at the scenes, my sword skills are far more useful than my shooting," he shrugged, "I'm more comfortable with my katana than the gun." No need to go into the fact that a gun would be pointless against another Immortal.

Chang bowed his head for a moment in understanding, the tension in the slender shoulders slipping as his lips quirked upwards. "I always suspected you were holding your true ability back in our sparring matches and as I have also seen your accuracy with a pistol, I am forced to assume that that is the truth." The black eyes glittered slightly with faint amusement as he looked back up. "Therefore I insist that we spar at our full abilities at some point in the near future. I wish to defeat you fairly and honourably next time."

The words caused the subconscious tightness in his own muscles to drop away. If the pilot wanted to spar with him, then it was unlikely that they were going to end up trying to kill each other this evening. "Agreed," he replied warmly, even as his body reminded him that Immortal or not, damp and wet clothing was not comfortable. "Make yourself comfortable, I just need to get out of this clothing before I catch a cold, and if you want a drink, feel free to use the kitchen."

He'd stripped down to his briefs and was pulling on some jeans and a sweater when Wufei spoke quietly from behind him. "When I was growing up on the L5 colony cluster, I became friends with a friend of the clan, a man called Qian. He encouraged me with my studies and even took my side when my father wished me to leave my books for combat. I admired him greatly." The boy paused and Duncan glanced over to see that the pilot hadn't moved from his perch on the edge of the sofa. "When I was ten years old, the murders started on the colony. Twelve headless bodies, both men and women, were recovered before the killing abruptly ceased. One of those was Qian."

Chang's words caused his head to whip round, his body following shortly after as he mentally ran through all the incidents he'd heard on the Immortal grapevine where the colony truce had been broken. Nothing. He'd never heard of an incident seven years ago involving L5. Granted, he couldn't keep up to date on every Immortal's actions, he'd never heard of Wufei's Qian for example, but any news of a breach of the truce quickly spread around. Either the killer had been mortal or extremely good at wiping out all traces of his passing.

"It was a hot summer day," the younger man continued, his voice an empty monotone, "There had been reports of strange lightning in one of the valleys and father decided to send me with the soldiers on a reconnaissance mission. He had had enough of my lack of interest in military matters and thought that it would be suitably instructive. When we reached the bottom of the valley, the men spread out and I sat by the river to wait. I remember pulling out the book I'd managed to hide in my trousers, and then I noticed the sword glinting in the water. As I called one of the soldiers over, the water started to turn red and then Qian's body floated out from behind the bush next to me."

If he'd had any doubts before, Wufei's words confirmed that the murders had been caused by an Immortal and he closed his eyes for a moment. "You said the killing suddenly stopped?"

"Yes," the pilot confirmed, his voice strengthening again as he finally looked over at Duncan. "There was never any trace found of the killer, and any attempts to trace the DNA from the other victims failed as well. And then the killing began here." The black eyes somehow darkened further, a starless void, "The lightning, the beheading, it's all the same. And I want to stop it. I want justice for Qian, the women and the others of my clan who died."

Oh. "And how do you think I can help?" He tried to keep his voice level.

"What do you know of the Lady Kyuushuu?"

He blinked, the words and change of topic taking a moment to register. "The Lady who?" Wasn't Kyushu the southern most island of Japan?

Chang's face remained impassive as he reached into a pocket to pull out a piece of paper, holding it out to him. "Kyuushuu. In old Japanese one of its meanings is bitter enemy."

"Or revenge," Duncan added, his mental dictionary kicking in as he took the paper with a frown, recognising it even as he took and unfolded it. The elegant calligraphy was the same as on the parchment that he'd tossed into his desk before they'd left for Paris, the invitation to someone that he'd not heard of, but to the same location that his had stated.

"The 'K' stands for Kyuushuu from what I've discovered so far, she owns and runs the dueling club the invitation was issued for. I thought that the best way to try and find a master swordsman, especially as several of the bodies have had swords on them, would be to start there," Dragon continued, "However as you can see, the club is very exclusive and is invitation only. In addition I am not stupid enough to enter a lion's den alone and I came to ask you if you would accompany me, assuming that I can procure an invite of my own."

He felt his mouth open, drawing a breath before shutting it with a sharp click of teeth. The young agent couldn't have any idea what he'd just asked. Now what am I supposed to do? If he took the raven haired mortal to a club which catered for his kind - and if they had Immortal delivery boys that was highly likely - then the pilot would likely also get mistaken for an Immortal and challenged. Which would mean he'd either lose his head and life, or find out about Immortality the hard way. If he didn't take the man to the club, then he'd probably go on his own and end up dying due to asking awkward questions. Wufei was looking at him curiously, and he rubbed his hand over his face, trying to push the frown away as he tried to give himself more time to think.

"I asked you due to your skill with a sword," Chang said, starting to stand up and reach for the invitation, "if you are unable to help me, I'll ask Maxwell."

"No!" He couldn't help the word exploding from his throat as he forced the sudden panic away from his eyes. His partner in a club with even one head hunter could be disastrous. He convinced his fists to relax and pasted a smile on his lips, "I didn't say I wouldn't help you." And that meant that he'd pretty much committed himself. Damn. "Just, give me a moment." Dragon nodded, still looking confused, and he stood, walking towards the small galley kitchen. "Would you like some green tea?"

"From L5?"

"Actually it's from China," he corrected with a real smile as he put the kettle on, "I find it has a fresher flavour."

"If I may." The eagerness in the pilot's voice reminded him once again of just how young the five ex-pilots were. While they had fought in two wars as the focus of those battles, they were still only babies compared to his thousand years.

He nodded, using the moments while he dug out one of his oriental tea sets and prepared the cups to figure out precisely how to deal with the new problem that Chang had dumped into his lap. He felt rather stupid for not having followed the same logic as the pilot when he'd received the invitation to the dueling club. The phenomenon of the clubs were a relatively new concept, brought on by the resurgence in sword fighting in the recent years. Generally they were owned and run by mortals, with Immortals occasionally visiting them to practice their skills or just re-live the old days in the archaic environment. This one however, seemed to have more than one Immortal involved and he suspected that the usual first blood rule would be somewhat relaxed. He had to wonder how the club functioned if there were many Immortals there as, unless the ground had been consecrated in some way, multiple Immortals in one space with weapons tended to end in rather a lot of bloodshed.

"What do you know of the club apart from it being run by this Kyuushuu?" The name was unfamiliar to him, meaning either a new Immortal, or more likely a pseudonym. She had to be one of his kind - no one else would get away with Immortal delivery boys.

The Shenlong pilot turned to look at him, one arm falling loosely over the arm of the couch, the other brushing a few ebony strands out of his eyes. "It appeared practically overnight approximately seven months ago. I've checked the leases and they all go through a holding company which I've been unable to find any information on," he paused, a faintly shamed look passing over his face, "I've even tried using the Preventer systems."

If Dragon was resorting to using government resources for a personal reasons, even to track down a murderer, then he really was serious. Adding the water to the antique bone china teapot, he placed it on the tray before carrying it over to the table. "Anything else?"

"I've done some surveillance on the building," the Chinese man replied in a clinical tone, pouring himself a cup of the fragrant tea and inhaling the scent with a smile. "I have so far not been able to get into the computer systems or security records of the club. There is a varied but exclusive clientele, ranging from some notable aristocrats and ESUN members through to beggars with nothing more than the sword on their back."

ESUN members? Could this get any more complicated? "Do the ministers have bodyguards?" He hoped so - that would mean that mortals were permitted in the building, which in turn limited the chance of challenges.

Chang's look over the paper thin china plainly told him that he thought he was being an idiot. "Of course. Sometimes the person on the door seems reluctant to let them in, and I noticed Minister Sete turn up without his at least twice."

Duncan nodded. Well, that wasn't a surprise, Andrew Sete was a well known Immortal who'd always been involved in politics in some way or another for the last seven hundred years or so and it was equally well known among the mortals that he disliked being followed around by guards. Although the fact that he was visiting the dueling club was somewhat of a surprise - the man hadn't been that interested in the physical exertions of the Game the last time they'd crossed paths, preferring the mental challenges of the government arena.

He sighed, there was nothing for it, the mortal obviously was not going to drop the topic, and to be fair, he couldn't blame him. The Chinese pilot's sense of justice and honour had been well known in the war and the boy had reason and skill enough to try and hunt down whoever had killed the people on L5 all those years ago. He also couldn't allow Wufei to involve Duo. It would be a challenge in itself to get the dark-eyed man into a club full of both mortals and Immortals and out again, without someone getting hurt without his partner's unique buzz causing problems. However, it would also involve explaining some of his secrets. Damn.

"Fine." He stood again. Reaching his desk, he undid the lock and pulled out his own invitation, moving back to pass it silently to his companion and re-seating himself. .

The onyx eyes flared with curiosity and suspicion as he read the almost identical wording on the parchment, his gaze flicking back and forth between the two pieces of paper. "I assume Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod would be yourself?" It was barely a question, only the slight emphasis on his birth title gave any hint that the pilot was asking.

"If you know anything of the Scottish clans on L4, I have ties to the MacLeod Clan," he replied, "I was adopted into the Clan as a child." All true, if missing out a few important details. He didn't want to lie to Wufei directly any more than he had to Duo.

"And you have received an invitation to the very club I'm interested in because?" Now that was a question, the low tone more than hinting at Dragon's renewed wariness.

"Because I'm good," he answered calmly, without any arrogance, "Because I was not always a Preventer and amongst certain circles I'm known as a master swordsman in my own right."

"Circles that I haven't heard of," Chang stated, shifting slightly on the sofa, still staring at the Scot. "It takes years of training to become that good. And as a business graduate as well. I've seen your record - when did you have the time to train to that level?"

He held back a groan. Had everyone been snooping around the personnel database, or was it just a trait that the Gundam pilots had? "You're only seventeen and I'd estimate you're well on the way to becoming a blademaster yourself."

The black eyebrows raised sardonically, "I was trained for war at a young age. I may have been a more scholarly child, but even I could not avoid the mandatory sword and martial arts training required as an heir of the Long clan."

The Immortal crossed his arms and returned the look impassively. "And I couldn't have had similar training? Just because I completed a degree does not make it impossible for me to have also learnt martial skills." He shrugged, breaking the tension, "Regardless, obviously someone at the club recognised my name and thought I deserved an invitation." Before the pilot could speak, he continued. "I've not been yet, but as you're so intent on going, I'm sure I can find out the next date."

Dragon looked surprised, "You haven't been?" Then he shook his head, dismissing the questions in his eyes. "Thank you, Cloud." He half bowed in his seat, a formal tilt of the head.

"I'm not particularly interested in randomly fighting people to show off," Duncan clarified, shaking his head at the youngster's formality, "And I've told you before, please call me Duncan or Mac like everyone else. You don't need to be so formal with me."

"It wouldn't feel right," Wufei replied slowly, "But if you insist... Duncan."

"I do," he replied firmly, refilling the pilot's empty cup with the fragrant tea. "Now, tell me more about what you know about the club."

When Dragon left several hours later, they'd exhausted the topic of Kyuushuu's club at least as far as they could without bringing Immortality into it, and moved onto other topics. He'd never spoken much with the young warrior outside of arranging sparring matches after he'd noticed the boy practicing in the gym and decided to approach him, but the pilot was a eloquent speaker and an excellent debater. They had disagreed on several points of Chinese historical record and, while Duncan couldn't explain how he knew the facts were wrong, it had been a while since he'd been able to have an academic discussion with anyone and he had enjoyed the lively arguments.

Tidying up the cups, he allowed himself a moment to worry again about taking the other man to the club, running his fingers over the parchment invitation uneasily. There was no doubt that the Chinese boy could take care of himself, but it felt like taking a lamb into a lion's den, even if, so far, the so-called murderer had seemingly stuck to his own kind. He frowned, wondering if there'd been any mortal decapitations as well. He'd have to ask, he stopped that thought before it could continue. He would not, could not, involve Duo in this - his partner's curiosity would only cause him to follow him and Chang when they went to the club. And, anyway, it wasn't as if his own research skills were that lacking, especially if he made use of the Preventer systems himself. He'd just have to come up with a good excuse should Ice start asking questions.

Sitting down at his desk, he pulled out a sheet of paper, enjoying the crispness of the old material. He, like many Immortals, preferred the non-synthetic paper, many having amassed a small stockpile in climate controlled warehouses. Reaching for a fountain pen, he began to write his own reply to the club asking to be informed of the next date, and suggesting Chang Wufei as a potential member.

A/N2: 'Kyuu' is Japanese for 9, 'Kyuushuu' does mean 'bitter enemy' - got to love Japanese words. :)

Also, please review. I know it takes time, but it seriously perks me up and makes me feel VERY happy and eager to write. :) And, hey, the next (5k+ word) chapter is a Duo & Methos scene from Methos's PoV - the more reviews & stuff I get, the sooner I'll post it... ;)