He did his best to explain everything that had happened to him since his run-in with John in Paris (leaving certain parts out of course) until he had received an introductory beating by Buffy in the alley. It took longer than he would have liked mostly because Giles was full of questions and Buffy kept laughing or gasping in about equal measure.
Buffy uncuffed him but left the shackles on.
"Seriously?" He asked. She smiled prettily.
"You are not running away -"
"I said that I wouldn't -"
"You're from another reality pal."
"And so are you!"
"No I'm not!"
"Are too!"
This continued for far longer than logic or reason would usually dictate.
"Fine!" I'll unshackle you god you're a drag." Buffy whined. He blinked at her and wondered if just maybe he had gone insane (again), and he was imagining this petite valkyrie. Then he wondered what it meant if his subconscious had A., dreamed her up, and B., she had then kicked the shit out of him. He didn't like that train of thought so he gave it up and assumed that he was, indeed, in some kind of alternate reality. His head started to hurt again.
"I think you're giving me a brain tumor." He muttered as she knelt and unlocked his shackles.
He sighed in relief and rotated his ankles. He slowly got up, partly to avoid startling Buffy into beating him unconscious again and partly because he felt stiff and sluggish. He stifled a yawn as he stretched and studied the room he was being held in.
It was secure but not necessarily a cell. It was painted in warm reds and browns surprisingly stylish really. Bookshelves were nailed to the walls and the lighting was bright but recessed with what looked like hardened covers He wouldn't be able to break the lenses and slash anyone with glass or hurl a bookshelf at someone, at least not easily, but he didn't feel like rubber hoses and sodium pentothal were incoming either. It was a nice balance.
"What do you do in here?" He asked.
"Research mostly." Rupert said watching Buffy. She was pacing the opposite side of the room from Methos.
"Okay so Xander is heading back from Africa now, I don't want this guy in the same room as him Giles. I'll ask Willow, Andrew, and Dawn to see if they can figure out anything about this parallel world and his friends."
"Look Buffy" He asked. She glowered and nodded.
"I don't want to hurt your friend, but I want my friends back and I want to get back to where I belong."
"How do you know your friends exist here?"
"I don't, I know that somehow those people knew I was here and have forced me into this, they knew their names and I've tried to contact them but no go. Look I don't give a shit about you people I just want to go home and live my life, but I can't do that can I? So you can help me find my friends, or you can stand back and let me do it alone but don't make the mistake of thinking I'm going to sit on my hands while you try to do the impossible." He hissed.
"Nice well I don't trust you pal, I get the wiggins from creepy guys I catch stalking underage girls-"
"You are not a girl and you're not underage. I was only bothering with you lot to get Harris to come back to the U.S. You move like a soldier, try thinking like one." He snapped. Giles seemed content to watch the argument.
"You're a creepy asshole and I -"
"Grow up. So you're upset I got close to your girls, so someone manipulated me into hunting your friend. Big goddamned deal. There are worse things in the world, pretty sure you're aware of that. Why don't you try being me for thirty seconds you spoiled little-"
Fists flew. This time Methos was prepared, the battle lasted longer. He didn't try to match her blow for blow but contented himself with fending her off and landing savage technical blows. After a few minutes the room was a shambles, Giles had fled in self defense seconds into the fight. Methos was blood smeared – mostly his own – and Buffy didn't look much better. They were both breathing hard and not ready to quit.
"That all you got?" He asked. She darted toward him with mongoose speed and he blocked her a hair too late earning himself a split cheek. Dazed he staggered back and exaggerated his injury and let her come close enough for a rabbit punch. Ordinarily he would never use such a blow on someone he didn't want to kill but she was a helluva lot tougher than him and well trained. The blow landed badly but jarred her.
Again and again they clashed and backed off. Finally they faced each other with wobbling limbs and swollen faces. Methos was still healing but slowly, they were exhausted and battered.
"Feel..better?" Methos asked chest heaving.
"Butthead." Buffy growled.
"Truce?" He asked offering his hand. Buffy snatched his wrist and hauled him forward and off his feet. Exhausted he couldn't react fast enough, she dropped him onto his face, wrenched his arm behind his back at an agonizing angle and planted her knee on his spine.
"Do. Not. Fuck with me gumby." She growled.
He let out a low animal growl in reply. Once in his life he would have made it his mission to annihilate anyone who had even thought to treat him like that. Then again he'd also spent 1300 years raping, pillaging and murdering his way across the better part of two continents. Things changed, people changed. Instincts however didn't. He writhed under her grip breaking his shoulder and arm and reversed her maneuver. He pinned her by straddling her chest and pressing his forearm to her throat half throttling her.
"I'm immortal, I've lived for hundreds of years, I am hunted by my kind and if anyone knew what I was I'd be hunted by yours. Remember what I am." He snarled. Her eyes were full of fire and hate. He released her and lay gasping on his back. Exhaustion and pain clawing at him. He had not intended to win, hadn't thought it possible at the end. His right arm throbbed with agony. He close his eyes and gripped the wrist. With a low scream he hauled on his wrist until the shattered bones shifted and settled into their normal locations. Sweaty and beyond tired, as safe as he could be with a homicidal superbeing at his elbow, stuck in a parallel world that played by different rules – he let himself sleep.
"Adam?" The voice was soft and cheerful but somehow mellow. Female, youngish. He opened his eyes and flared his nostrils breathing unfamiliar smells, herbs and perfumes. His eyes studied the plain ceiling above him for a few moments and then flicked around. A petite red head was sitting at his elbow. She radiated calm and strength, something about her reminded him of Cassandra, a strange energy to her. He wondered if Cassandra existed in this place. As soon as the thought formed he pushed it away. Dismissed it's existence to stress. Should his Cassandra ever show up again only one of them would be walking away.
"Hi, I"m Willow." The woman said. Methos blinked and sat up. He wasn't sore but he was tired and thirsty.
"How long was I asleep?"
"Uh eighteen hours or so."
"The woman, Buffy, is she okay?"
"I would steer clear of her if you could but she's mostly fine."
"I..." He frowned and didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to explain himself to this girl or her cohorts. He had one job, get his friends back, well two assuming he wanted to go home. Truth was the lack of other immortals in this world deeply appealed to him. He hated the Game. Once he had lusted for a kill any kill. Time had shown that even that couldn't sate his pain or fear so he had grown up. Killing could not be undone and should never be done lightly. The fact that he could possibly live for thousands of more years without worrying about running into an old 'friend' intrigued him.
"I'll uh, I'll get Giles." The red head said finally. She smiled shyly at him as she left. He was lying on a soft mattress in a clean comfortable room. Painted in warm colors with a bay window it screamed guest room. So maybe battering Buffy had knocked some sense into her and her friends. Or not.
Two young women barely out of their teens entered. One had a beautiful mocha skin and eyes so dark they glittered black. She was beautiful as was the girl at her elbow, a tanned brunette. The duo moved like they had been trained, he suspected they were like Buffy. Giles entered after the girls.
"Good evening, are you feeling well?" Giles asked.
"Thirsty but I'm fine, you don't need the honor guard." Methos said gesturing at the women. They bristled at his movement.
"I'm afraid neither of us has a choice about that. Buffy has ordered them to follow you at all times when you leave your room. Something about ruining an outfit and dirty tricks."
"It usually boils down to clothes. Or furs, or a favorite skin even, women." Methos sighed. He slowly sat up and put his feet on the floor. He was wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt. Both fit a bit snugly but he wasn't uncomfortable. His feet were bare and no shoes or socks were in sight.
"I think the maid stole my slippers." He smirked at Giles.
"Ah yes when Buffy has decided you've learned to behave you'll be granted certain privileges, shoes being the first."
"Hey she was wearing boots and I hardly think my blood ruined them-"
One of the girls moved closer to him, too close. He stood up and stared hard at her.
"Back off. You think you can take me? Try it now or give me space." He growled. It was the girl with black eyes. When she spoke she had an accent somewhere in Africa he guessed. He was shaky with African accents had lost touch with the continent over time. As a rule he avoided conflict, immortal or no an unlucky bullet or a bomb could kill him as certainly as any sword. Plus, it was hot.
"You are lucky that Buffy thinks we should keep you, if she did not we would kill you." She whispered.
"In my sleep? Very nice, good to know where I stand, now, back off." There was no mistaking the command in his words. She managed to hold his gaze for a moment and then stepped back. He was impressed, most people couldn't do that when he really tried.
"I apologize the girls are very loyal to Buffy and word has gotten out about your uh altercation."
"She kicked my ass first, besides it was really more of a draw. Anytime you have to break your shoulder and arm just to even the score is hardly a victory." Methos sighed. There let them circulate that bit of information through their gossip mill. Probably turn into him biting his arm off just to get away by evening.
He followed Giles, the two warrior girls flanking and trailing them. They allowed him enough space to avoid feeling crowded but he knew they could and would be on him in seconds if he made a move. Happily he had no intention of causing trouble. Three brawls in two days against an inhumanly strong and fast opponent were quite enough to last him for the rest of the century. He wanted to get Joe out and Amanda and he supposed Macleod. The millennium had passed and Ahriman had been put back in his box but there was still the next arbitrarily important century and inevitable champion to worry about.
"Feel free to eat whatever you like as long as it is not explicitly labeled. Community meals are served at five am, ten am, two pm, and six pm in the main dining room. We have almost two hundred regular staff and about half to a quarter of that number rotating in and out on a regular basis." Giles was talking about the facility obviously. Methos listened with half an ear while he studied the halls and rooms he was led into and through.
"Okay not to kill the tour or anything but can we maybe make some real progress?"
"Buffy has asked that you be given a tour and treated well but kept away from Alexander Harris and out of her way." The brunette chimed in. Methos scowled.
"Uhm, yeah okay fuck that." He said and folded his arms with a grin, he leaned against the wall and waited. They stared at him. He waited. Giles sighed and left after a minute or so, the girls remained. He spent half the day there before Giles returned.
The academic studied the situation and wandered off muttering about civil disobedience. The red head came by with a few other girls and giggled at him. He had rarely been giggled at and it was disconcerting. Screamed at, cursed at, insulted, praised, etc but giggled at? That was pretty new, which was nice considering his ridiculous age. He decided that he liked the red head. As night fell and his stomach was making loud complaints two girls replaced his original guards. He could hear raised voices from the dining area. He yawned and wandered toward the noise. His guards followed him.
"He's blocking the main hallway!" A shrill male voice cried.
"He isn't hurting anyone Andrew relax." The red head again. The voices were coming from a slightly open door. Methos casually opened it and wandered in.
Buffy, Giles, the red head, a younger girl who looked like she was in high school or maybe a freshman college student, a very pale man dressed like the last best ramones fan, a weaselly faced young man dressed in a suit , and a half dozen girls were in the room standing around a table. The table was empty but he got the distinct impression that it normally wasn't, maps? Books? Blueprints?
"This is a closed meeting." The youngster in the suit sneered and then his jaw dropped. He stared at Methos with a disturbingly worshipful eye. Methos ignored him.
"About me? Ahh you shouldn't have." He crooned and stepped further into the room. The red head hid a smile while the various young women bristled. The punk smirked and remained quiet.
"You really are a major pain in the ass." Buffy growled. She didn't look good but she looked a helluva lot better than she had any right to.
"Okay seriously I told you what I am why don't you share your secret eh? I've seen and taken a lot of beatings you are way too gorgeous considering our little spat to be fully human." Methos said rather tactlessly.
"Better give up the goods love, he's got your number." The punk drawled with an accent. Methos smiled at him, not a friendly 'let's grab a beer later buddy' smile, but more of an 'I like your style but don't even think about fucking with me' smile.
"I'm a Slayer -"
"Into each generation a girl is born: one girl in all the world, a chosen one. She alone will wield the strength and skill to fight the vampires, demons, and the forces of darkness; to stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their numbers. She is the Slayer" The weaselly kid squeaked while still staring at Methos.
"Okay that actually explains nothing." Methos sighed. The kid was still staring.
"Take a picture Andrew it will last longer." The punk scoffed.
"I am faster and stronger than most girls I live to kill vampires and demons. Oh and shop." She said.
"Don't think we've got any of you back home, or vampires or demons ether. Pretty sure I'd've met one or two." He mused. The nerdy kid was making him nuts with the bug eyes.
"What the hell is your problem kid?" He demanded.
"You're Methos!" He crowed. Methos went white and had to clench his fists to keep from leaping across the table and throttling the kid, supernatural amazonian guards be damned.
"What?" Buffy asked holding the kid back.
"Andrew you're freaking us out!" The red head chided.
"He's Methos, he's an immortal, from Highlander! Is Duncan with you?" The boy demanded.
"What the hell are you babbling about?" Methos demanded.
"The TV show Highlander, you're Methos!" The kid was almost dancing now.
"Oh come on you have got to be kidding, a TV show? I am not a television character!" He snapped.
"I can prove it!" Andrew cried and pulled a laptop out of a bag sitting on the floor. With almost inhuman swiftness he had it up and logged onto youtube.
"See?" He cried as a video began to play, it looked like the opening intro to a show. Within seconds his face appeared with a stranger's name. He sqeeaked and snatched up the computer. He watched the entire wretched intro four times before Andrew managed to get the laptop back.
"Oh my gods I'm a joke, a badly written sci fi character." Methos muttered mournfully rubbing at his eyes with one hand.
"No, you're not." Buffy said quietly. He looked at her through the fingers of his right hand and then slowly lowered his hand. Her face was bruised, one lip still split, but there was no animosity in her eyes only earnest certainty.
"Look it's a crappy TV show here but where you are? It's reality and it matters."
He started to respect her then.
"Look our lives read like wacky wacky sci fi movies sometimes but they're real."
"So...you're a TV show too?"
"Probably." The red head interrupted. Methos' head hurt and he really really wished he'd just said no to John back in Paris. With a bullet preferably.
"Look physics and magic agree that there are basically infinite possible parallel universes in existence. It makes sense. I bet there's some universe out there that has normal everyday people doing normal everyday stuff for their TV shows."
"And you are?" Methos asked numbly unable to recall her name.
"Willow Rosenberg."
"Right. Okay, Willow if you say so." He said and shook his head. He closed the lid of the laptop killing the tinny echoey theme song. Andrew looked at him with shiny puppydog eyes.
"Stop it kid, I"m not that character okay?" He growled. The boy wouldn't relent so he drew up his Horseman and let the kid get a look at that. The boy swallowed hard and looked away. Methos tried to drag his thoughts back to the present, to what mattered. He remembered the phone he'd been given.
"Shit, look I had a phone with me-"
"Here." Andrew said in a slightly subdued tone. Ugh. He gave the phone to Methos, there were no missed calls or text messages. He sighed in relief.
"I assume that is a gift from your employers?" Giles asked.
"Employees get paid, I'm as much a hostage as my friends." Methos snapped. Andrew swallowed hard and backed away from him. Buffy caught the movement.
"Give us the room." She said and the various Slayers filed out. He assumed they were slayers although the uninformative rhyme had only spoken of one and heavily implied there could only be one. He waited and finally it was just Buffy, Willow, the idiot Andrew, Giles, and the Brit.
"Andrew what do you know about him?" She demanded. Andrew swallowed hard and looked back at his laptop.
"Uhm."
"Oh hell why don't you ask me? Or better yet watch the show?" Methos sneered.
"Andrew?"
"He uh, well he's old."
"How old?" Buffy asked growing impatient at pulling tiny bits of information from Andrew.
"Oh hell, I'm five thousand years old. Ish." Methos growled. The punk laughed.
"Really? You? Five thousand? I don't believe it." He snorted. Methos turned on him.
"Yeah? How do you think I managed to beat your Slayer? Luck?" He demanded. The pale man's face twisted into a monstrosity as he kept laughing. His eyes were yellow and foul and his forehead was furrowed and bestial, massive fangs protruded from his mouth. Methos reacted on instinct. He slugged the man hard enough to stagger him and followed through with the assault. Pounding the creature's face again and again until something stopped his arm. He pulled on it hard and something smacked him in the head. He blinked and looked back at what held his arm. Buffy. She looked pissed.
Methos' brain kicked in. They obviously knew the blond man was not human and didn't mind. Methos released the creature and backed away.
"You don't make many friends do you?" The man sneered through his bloodied teeth and face.
"Shut up Spike you did that on purpose."
"Had to test his mettle." Spike snorted.
"Stop showing off Spike." Giles sighed.
"He likes to get a rise." Willow chimed in. Methos looked at his bloodied fist and back at Spike. The man-thing's face had returned to normal. He was actually fairly handsome in the right light. Methos felt nauseas. First he was a TV character and now monsters turned out to be real, and kinda snarky. Awesome.
"What the fuck is it?"
"He is Spike, a vampire." Buffy sighed glaring at Spike. The vampire was licking his own blood and grinning at Methos.
"Okay one, gross, two you're a vampire slayer right? So what the hell?" Methos demanded. Buffy glared at him.
"Look sword boy he's on our side and we trust him so shut it."
Spike kept licking his blood.
"Not helping." Buffy barked at him. Spike scowled but stopped hamming.
Methos let silence fill the room for a moment.
"And I'm the TV character?"
"Okay so...just to get this straight. He's a TV character, but in his reality he's a real person and since he's here now he's still a real person?"
"Yep."
"Somehow he was Shangahai'd here probably by the Initiative to kill me, only he's pissed at them 'cause they pulled the typical evil bad guy crap and kidnapped his friends?"
"Yep."
"Okay can we have a semi normal month just like once a year?"
"Nope."
"Right." Xander sighed and rubbed his tired eye. He'd been on various modes of transport trying to get to Cleveland for two days and change. He studied the image on the monitor. Methos didn't look much older than him. How could he be a 5,000 year old immortal man from a different reality? Ugh. Too weird.
"I think we can trust him." Buffy said into the silence.
"Hmm? Yeah we probably can, the Initiative is good at making with the enemies." Xander agreed.
"We missed you." Buffy added and gave him a bear hug.
"Buff...air." Xander gasped. She released him with a squeak.
"I want to meet him." Xander said as soon his breathing recovered.
"I don't think that's -"
"You've kicked his ass two and a half times, and with the other slayers and Willow there you really think he'll do anything?" Xander chided her.
"Would you?" Buffy asked.
"If I thought you wouldn't help me, or I thought you were trying to stop me and my friends might die because of it? Yeah, probably, so why don't you let him help us?"
"Because...because I can't lose you Xander."
"Buffy, you've died multiple times and we didn't lose you, what makes you think I'm any less stubborn?"
Buffy frowned and glared at him, until her gaze quivered and broke and she smiled.
"Okay but if-"
"Pummeling, lots of pummeling." Xander agreed.