A/N: Gah. Writing such an obscure crossover (there's a whole 6 GW/HL crossovers on !) means that you readers are so precious - and your reviews so important as I won't have as many readers/hits as, say, a HP fanfic. :) So please review. :) Also, I'm hoping I'm managing such a weird crossover... Although IMO GW/HP is weirder... :P HP/HL might work... Hmmm... Also, I think the end of HL: Endgame has also been pretty much ignored - I'm not giving Duncan an Immortal wife. :P

Hopefully we're almost at a major plot point... *pokes muses*

Chapter 21

The rain was still pouring down on the windows of Duncan's car the next evening as the Immortal glanced for what felt like the hundredth time at Chang Wufei sitting stiffly in the passenger seat, a metal dao sheathed on his lap. This was a bad idea. A really bad idea.

The work day had been punctuated by Duo trying every method he had to find out what he and Wufei were up to, everything from having questions pop up on his screen in neon colours, to irritating noises erupting from his speakers every time the pilot was coincidentally out of the room. Then there had been the slew of emails asking innocent looking questions from various sources that had threatened to overload his computer until the spam filters kicked in and an phone call to the IT department, which had immediately been forwarded to Ice, had blocked at least half of them. The braided pilot had received a scathing phone call from the Commander after that - apparently his Chinese colleague had been equally bombarded and there was only so much that Gold would tolerate, even from Maxwell.

His partner had then been reduced to a wheeling tone of voice that only served to remind him of Richie and he'd quickly asked for, and been granted, the leave to work at home for the rest of the day - which consisted of most of the morning and the whole of the afternoon. Before he gave in and told the younger man exactly what was going on, and why he shouldn't get involved. That had usually ended in disaster with his old student and he wasn't prepared to make that error again.

Dragon was unlikely to break either, his reputation as a spy and combatant was far more impressive than his own, amongst mortals anyway, and he had coped with Duo for longer than he had. However, the Scot hadn't been entirely surprised when he met the Shenlong pilot on the way out of the building.

It was now past dusk, they were sat about a mile away from the club and all the worries that he'd spent the day obsessing about instead of doing any work were simmering to the surface as he looked over at the mortal. The leaflet had reassured him, repeatedly, that the exclusive club was a safe place for both mortals and Immortals and that there were procedures in place to deal with the Game and hiding their existence from mortals. He wasn't reassured. Too many people knew him, or at least of him, for this to go well. He hadn't managed to find out anything about the owner, Kyuushuu, which worried him as well. If Joe was still alive he'd have been able to ask the Watchers, but... He quashed that thought before the emotions connected with his old friend could rise up. He needed to concentrate.

He'd not felt any buzzes nearby, but that didn't mean there were no Immortals around. At least Chang wasn't going to question the katana that was firmly sheathed in his trenchcoat, plus the dagger that was down the back of his sweater, and the smaller pair of knives in his boots. If the pilot became involved in a fight with an Immortal, he was perfectly willing to use less traditional methods to remove Dragon from the situation, even if he wouldn't appreciate the effort. Actually, he'd probably be distinctly unhappy given that the Chinese sense of honour was as deep rooted in the younger warrior as his own was embedded in him. And you didn't ask someone else to fight your battles for you. Or allow them to.

Taking a deep breath, This is a really bad idea, he motioned to the other man, clicking open the door and slipping out of the car. Waiting for the other man to leave the car, he scanned the darkness, his senses on high alert even as he told himself that his sixth sense would warn him if any of his own kind were lurking around. Wufei was also on high alert, his pose the relaxed deadliness from the gym, but this time with one hand on the hilt of his sword where it rested by his hip. For a moment he considered telling the other man that there was nothing to worry about in the vicinity, but he couldn't exactly explain how he knew that. Damn. Locking the door with a button press he tried to smile reassuringly as he gestured towards the narrow alleyway towards the club. Probably best to just get this over with.

The sheer strength of the buzz hit him with the scarily familiar force of a car slamming into him, causing him to stumble. He couldn't help the grunt of shock that erupted from his lips, causing Dragon to spin round, eyes darting into the shadows while keeping a wary eye on him..

"Duncan?"

"I'm fine," he muttered, the paralysis wearing off as abruptly as it had hit him. "It's nothing."

The dark eyes skimmed over him appraisingly, obviously analysing him with an experienced eye and judging whether he was capable of continuing. The black hair bobbed once in the darkness, shining slightly under the faint streetlights. "Fine."

He nodded in response, pleased that Dragon was treating this like any Preventer mission. As long as his temporary partner didn't go outside the guidelines he'd drilled into him for this trip, everything would go smoothly. And if that wasn't far too optimistic for anything involving himself and other Immortals he didn't know what was.

He managed to keep his feet, and the reaction off his face, as a few smaller weaker pulses hit him, like miniature aftershocks, as they approached the club. Giving up on trying to estimate the number of Immortals after the first few, the sheer weight of the initial buzz suggesting at least seven or eight, he squared his shoulders and dropped the persona of Duncan Macleod of the Preventers on a mission in favour of the relaxed and friendly face of Duncan MacLeod, friend to anyone who hadn't proved themselves his enemy. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Wufei following his lead, dropping the dangerous prowl for a slightly less intense walk. For a moment he was grateful that his own buzz would overwhelm the lack of one from his companion, the dark-haired teenager looked far too proud to be mortal.

At the entrance two bouncers, both with longswords at their hips, incongruous with the smart black suits, watched them with wary eyes as they approached. His Immortal senses were too overwhelmed by the mass hum from the building behind them to sense whether they were also his kind. He almost felt mortal again.

The two men didn't say anything, one just held their hand out for the invitations that both he and Dragon dug out. His companion's was given back almost instantly without comment, his own...

"Duncan Macleodd?" The taller man's voice was surprised as he passed the parchment over to his partner who glanced from the name to his face a few times. "The Duncan Macleodd of the Clan Macleodd?"

"MacLeod," he repeated, grimacing slightly at the mispronunciation. He just that this wasn't going to be the reaction from every Immortal in the club. Annoyingly he very much doubted that - the only way someone would get more attention would be if Adam turned up and revealed that he was Methos. And he knew that wasn't being arrogant. Damn.

The two men shared a look before passing the paper back carefully and waving them into the recessed doorway. "Welcome to Club Duality."

Putting a hand on Dragon's arm when he reflexively grasped the hilt of his dao as they entered a dark corridor, he pulled the teenager to a halt for a moment. "Remember what I told you. Don't trust anyone. Treat this as a mission. Do not engage in any duels. If anyone asks about me, direct them to me." Trying to figure out the way to explain to the boy that some of the grass snakes in the pit were poisonous vipers without explaining there was more than one type of snake was more difficult than he remembered. "This is a different circle of people to what you're used to, there's different rules..."

"Duncan, could one of these people be the murderer?" Chang's voice was cool and the almost black eyes met his own flatly, a hint of suspicion lurking in the depths.

Forcing himself to remain relaxed, he used the excuse of checking the corridor for any patrons and listening devices to collect his thoughts. "It's possible." Actually, it was pretty certain that most of the Immortals here would have been involved in taking heads, even if not in Brussels itself. He wasn't the only one who had fought in the city, and was definitely careful enough to avoid leaving headless bodies around.

The Chinese pilot nodded, his lips thinning as he looked down pointedly to where the Scot was holding his arm until Duncan pulled it away slowly. "I will bear your guidance in mind, MacLeod."

That was probably the best he was going to get. "Thank you. Now, shall we?"

The short passageway soon cleared into a reception area where the receptionist held out a book for him to add his name to, again doing a double take at his entry, and, after checking the letter that he'd put in the column after his name, held out a small yellow badge in the shape of a sword that he attached to his collar. Wufei was obviously looking for a key, or some order from prior entries, for what to put after his name and he sighed, sending a warning glance to the receptionist out of the other man's sight. "Put 'B', it's how the club designates your ability. You're currently defined as blue."

"I thought you hadn't been here before." The other man pinned his badge, identical to his own except a bright blue, on his collar as they carried on into the main room.

The room was dominated by a raised platform where a man and a woman were sparring lightly, one with a gladius and one with a jian, the two weapons flowing together in a smooth sequence of moves even with the gulf of continents between their styles. Around the platform were many couches and chairs dotted at what seemed like random around the room except for the ones huddled around a fire in one wall and others around several tables where card games were taking place or drinking sessions were taking place. On the far wall was a doorway wreathed with fabric with a small wooden high backed chair on a lower raised platfor to one side with another bouncer. The clientele were, as he had suspected, diverse. The room wasn't full by anybody's standards, however he estimated about twenty to thirty people were spread around the room, and most were wearing the same yellow badge that he wore to signify that he was Immortal, but not interested in taking part in the Game while in the club. That explained why the impact of the joint buzz had been so severe - this many Immortals in one place, without outright combat, was almost unbelievable.

A very few, three or four, were wearing the red badges that the leaflet had stated were for those Immortals who did wish to participate in the Game. Those seemed to be the ones who were dressed more archaically, the furs and leather standing out among the business and leisure wear. Then there were the few mortals in the room, only one that he could see, a young lady, was wearing the green badge which symbolised that they at least knew about Immortals, the others were all wearing the blue swords.

"I hav..." He trailed off as they entered to see several faces turn towards the new arrivals. Most of them returned to their business, but a few continued looking towards them, recognition flickering in the mix of pleased and angry faces that remained.

"Duncan!" The first cry went up from a young looking dark haired professionally dressed woman with a heavy Italian accent who almost ran around the sofa that she had been sitting on to launch herself towards him, a mix of old Italian and English pouring out her mouth. "What are you doing here? Io non sapevo che fossi a Bruxelles? What have you been doing for all these..."

He caught her as she barrelled into him, spinning her round and cut her off by the simple method of kissing her, bending her backwards for a moment in a deep dip before pulling her up and whispering in her ear. "distintivo blu." For a moment she blinked up at him before her eyes narrowed and she shot her own look at his companion, obviously noting the blue badge before her pale grey eyes met his own. He stepped back with a smile, hoping that this meant that she'd wasn't going to bring up the last time they'd met about three hundred years ago when they'd had an argument about the Game and his protectiveness of Immortal women who could, in her words, 'kick the butt' of most male Immortals. "Giovanna, meet Chang Wufei. Wufei, Giovanna Novi."

"A pleasure." Giovanna nodded courteously at his temporary partner, drawing her composure around herself once again before switching her attention back to him, obviously dismissing the mortal entirely. It was a common habit after a few centuries to dismiss the shorter lived humans as unimportant and irrelevant in the greater scheme of things. Methos had perfected this to the extreme of just dismissing anyone and anything that didn't have a direct impact on his continued life.

"So, where have you been? Last I heard you were on L4."

"I was, for a bit." He tilted his head towards some empty chairs, gesturing the the female Immortal towards them and following her swaying hips as she led the way, "Can I get you a drink?"

"Ever the gentleman. I'm sure that you can remember what I like, Duncan dear."

Chang answered his questioning look with a shake of his head. "I'm going to have a look around." The pilot nodded stiffly but politely at the brunette who was sitting down delicately in her chair, adjusting the scabbard at her waist over her skirt suit with the ease of long practice. "If you need me." Call me. The unspoken words were as obvious as he hoped the warning he'd put into his own eyes was.

As the teenager slipped off towards the ring, he made his own way to the bar. He was barely half way across before several other Immortals, both men and women, had approached him. Half of them had only heard of the 'legend' that was Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod and wanted to meet him, or ask if he really was the Highlander, a few more had tried challenging him outright or suggested they retire to the back room of the club, and one had asked if Wufei was his student, and if not, was he available as a teacher. He suddenly had a lot more sympathy for Methos's determination to keep himself a secret.

Finally reaching the bar once everyone who'd been part of the initial onslaught had faded back to their seats, he sighed in relief as he placed his order. It had been a while since he'd been around anyone who viewed him as anything other than a normal mortal, albeit one that had considerable talent with a sword.

"Duncan! Glad you could finally make it."

The rich smooth voice that he'd heard on the television so often over the years was recognisable before he even turned to smile at the slightly rotund man learning against the bar. "Minister Sete."

The balding man at his side chuckled, ordering himself a beer before turning to face him. "Call me Andrew. You know as well as I do that ESUN doesn't have any dominion over us. And neither does Preventer, Agent Cloud."

He nodded in wry acknowledgement, taking a sip of the cool beer in front of him before picking up Giovanna's drink. "That's not why I'm here. And that's not why Chang Wufei is here either."

"There's a rumour going round that you asked the Lady for an invitation for him."

"And you've been seen visiting this club too often. Someone had to come and have a look. Be glad it was me." It wasn't quite a lie, but he wasn't quite sure what side of truth Duo would have put it down as.

The comment met its mark though, the minister faintly grimacing as he accepted his own drink and change. "Visiting a dueling establishment can't impact my reputation like it did in 2495. I have to say the current fashion of upper class men and women carrying swords is a boon for us."

"I suppose you had nothing to do with that change."

"Now that would be telling."

Leading the way to the table, he placed the two glasses in front of Giovanni, gesturing to a third seat for the third Immortal. "Do you already know Giovanna Novi?"

"We've met," the brunette replied shortly, allowing Andrew to take her hand for a moment as he bent a kiss onto the back before turning back to Duncan, picking up the vodka and lemonade to take a long drink. "Now, Duncan, why don't you tell me what you've been up to since we last met."

There was something refreshing about being among a group of people who he didn't have to hide his Immortality from. While he had to keep his voice down due to the few people in the club wearing blue badges, it was still something that he couldn't ever really recall happening since... since the time with Richie, Tessa, Joe, Darius and Methos. Oh, he'd had a few social meetings with non-hostile Immortals over the last few centuries, mainly on the colonies, and there were the regular visits to and from the few of his friends who had survived over the years or he'd befriended since. But the whole idea of sitting in a club of his own kind, able to be himself, without a sword fight breaking out was, surprisingly for a two thousand year old man, a novel concept.

Giving a potted history of his last three hundred years was easy enough, with the discussion veering off at points to different events where the three of them had been on opposing sides. Eventually it reached the current era and he took a breath to hide his pause - regardless of Sete's current allegiance to ESUN, he was, and always would be, a politician to the core. "And then I joined Preventer, and that's where I am today."

"The boy you entered with, is he..." The woman's tilt of the head spoke volumes without her having to finish.

"No, he's entirely mortal, and yes, he was the pilot of Shenlong Gundam." He shrugged, they'd already decided that even attempting to hide Wufei's identity was doomed to failure, given his image had been spread across the globe as both an enemy and an ally during the Eve Wars. "He is, however, a good swordsman who deserves to have the option to test his skills against others." For some reason, he couldn't help wondering what side of the truth Duo would interpret that on.

"He's good enough to take you?" Giovanna's tone was cool, but the undercurrent was clear to someone used to dealing with the Game.

Taking a swallow of his beer he gave her a dry look over the edge of the glass. "He's not faced me at my full skills. He's a teenager, and I don't usually throw even my students in at that level."

"Well, unless said student has annoyed whichever Immortal was after the Highlander, from what I heard from my teacher," Andrew tilted his own drink towards him in acknowledgement.

Actually, Methos may well have the right idea. Legend status was definitely proving a problem. "I haven't had a student in centuries," he deflected, "and I'm not looking for one."

"So you're teaching mortali instead?" The slate eyes darted over to where the Chinese boy appeared to be studying the current pair in the ring, an actual duel from the scoreboard subtly to the side, between a tall blonde man with a broadsword and a wiry equally tall brown-haired man with a dagger and longsword combination.

"The great Highlander is teaching mortals how to kill us? Can't do your own dirty work, MacLeod?"

He forced his face to keep pleasant as he turned to meet the stony gaze of the familiar man behind him and brushed the sausage-fingered hand away from where it clamped on his arm. Seften's short build was misleading, the man's stocky body was packed with muscles and the only time they'd met in combat he'd been hard pressed to get a draw before the mortal authorities had interrupted them, breaking the fight up. They'd not met again since then and he'd hoped that someone else had taken the man's head off his thick neck. That sadly didn't appear to be the case. He wasn't at all surprised by the red badge on the man's collar.

"Finally decided to come play with the big boys, MacLeod?"

"Actually I'm here to socialise," he replied with a casual shrug, calculated to at least try and diffuse the situation that was threatening to bubble up. It was bad enough that by the end of the night most Immortals in the city would be aware of his presence without having to fight. "Perhaps get in a bit of practice. Nothing that would cause any trouble."

Seften's eyes darted down to his yellow badge before flicking to over to see Wufei's blue one and the thin lips thinned further. "Practice. Why, MacLeod, legends still need practice? I suppose if you've been working with a blue," the word was derogatorily slurred, "then I'm not surprised."

The pilot was walking towards them, the sudden silence in the room surrounding the table drawing his attention and and it was obvious that he'd heard the tail end of the insult as his companion tensed up, the onyx eyes visibly hardening. He prayed that the younger boy would keep his temper - drawing a sword on Seften would cause more problems than it was worth. Sadly, It didn't seem anyone in Heaven was listening to him.

"Would you like to try me?" The teenager's voice was soft, hiding daggers in the quiet accented tones. It sounded so innocent compared to the ages he had been hearing in the other Immortals' voices. "If the ring is free, I can show you my skills."

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed one of the other Immortals that had started to actively pay attention to the small group stand up and head towards the raised platform where the two Immortals were still sparring, calling them over to the edge. Great. Just great. There was no way to stop the duel without some how impinging on the mortal's honor, or explaining exactly why it was a bad idea.

And it was meant to be a dueling club after all.

Moments later he found himself next to the ring, Giovanna and Sete standing by his side, Dragon lightly warming up on the platform and Seften checking the edge on his claymore. The rules of the club

prevented them from drawing blood, ostensibly to protect the patrons, but more likely to prevent mortals from seeing the Immortal healing ability. That didn't mean that the rules would always be obeyed.

He was frantically trying to think of ways to stop the duel when a gong rung out into the room. Many of the other patrons to paused in their conversations and he followed their gazes towards the curtained entrance to what the leaflet had referred to as the 'back room' where true Immortal fights could take place in a Faraday cage that would protect any spectators and the rest of the building.

The drapes parted to reveal a short Caucasian woman in rich antique oriental clothing, a long deep red silk kimono patterned with phoenixes sweeping the floor, while the gold obi had serpentine Chinese dragons embroidered delicately along its length. Her light brown hair was pinned up in a complex Asian hairstyle that was at least a thousand years out of date, and a sheer silk veil covered her lower face, only the soft brown eyes above it visible. Following her at a respectful distance were two young men, one carrying a sheathed katana carefully in his hands, the other holding the gong that was still vibrating quietly. By the time the gong rang out for the second time all conversation had ended.

He couldn't sense whether the trio were Immortal - there were no badges to indicate either way - but the respect that the woman commanded clearly revealed her status clearly as the Lady of the club. The slender woman stepped up to the modest chair next to the entrance and took the seat as regally as if it was a throne, arranging her robe around her as her two attendants took up places on either side.

"Seften, I've told you before not to threaten people." Kyuushuu's voice was accentless and hard.

Seften's face had darkened at the gong and he'd already sheathed his sword when he turned to the woman in front of him, a silent storm in his eyes. "I wanted to see if the Highlander can teach as well as people say."

"And you would be Chang Wufei. The Dragon of Preventers."

Wufei had also stood, bowing respectfully to the lady in front of him. "I thank you for the invitation, my lady." He glanced at his would-be opponent, "I have no objections to dueling this man, however."

The elegant hairstyle barely moved as the woman dipped her head gracefully before her eyes raked across the room to land on his. "And you would be Duncan MacLeod. The Highlander."

He nodded, "Aye, and you would be the Lady Kyuushuu." Stepping forward he met the nut-brown eyes firmly. "I'm afraid I haven't heard of you."

"Why would you, when I try and stay out of duels?" A smile touched the corners of her eyes before they turned back to the two figures in the ring, "If you truly have no objections, Chang Wufei, I will let Seften fight. Provided he remembers the rules." The last words were hard as the mortal and Immortal took their positions. "There will be no blood spilt in Duality. Is that understood?"

The two men's eyes stayed fixed on each other, although the stocky man's lips twisted as he acknowledged the order. Apparently even the old Immortal was willing to obey the young looking woman and he made a mental note to do more research into the mysterious woman. He didn't have time to worry about whether his companion stood a chance and if the boy would be hurt - even with the rules that governed the fight firmly set out by the owner - before the Lady's voice carried into the room.

"First to fifteen hits," She gestured to the man holding the gong. "Begin."