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Reunion

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This story is No. 3 in the series "Highlander on the Hellmouth". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Giles receives a visit from a very old acquaintance.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Highlander > Giles-CenteredidontlikegravyFR1359,07601311,9512 Jun 071 Dec 07Yes

Chapter One

Warning: There is a scene involving Methos/Giles/Byron in Chapter 3 of this fic, although it is not graphic it may offend some. But it is only one paragraph in an otherwise slash-free fic.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not one little bit, the characters depicted here belong to the people who own their respective shows, I own nothing.


Reunion

Giles was seated at his desk, examining a piece of papyrus that Buffy had sent him for translation. The document was a prophecy, almost as old as he was, and it was a fascinating read. He smiled as he sensed the approach of another Immortal and looked up, expecting to see Xander. Instead, he saw a skinny young man with dishevelled dark hair slouched against the doorframe. Giles’ grin broke into a broad smile, which was matched by the visitor. Giles stood and beckoned him inside. “Benjamin!” he said as he hugged him in welcome.

“Actually it’s Adam Pierson at the moment Rupert.” Adam said as he sat down.
“Sorry. I’m using Rupert Giles still. Of course, you knew that, else how could you find me. Stupid. Sorry.” Giles babbled as he went and shut his office door. As pleased as he was to see Methos, the old man always managed to reduce Giles to Willow levels of nervous incoherence for a few minutes until he regained his composure. “So what brings you here old man?” Giles asked as he sat back down.

“Can’t I catch up with an old friend after what, thirty, no forty years?” Methos answered. Giles raised an eyebrow and looked at Methos doubtfully. “Ok, so my visit isn’t entirely motiveless.” He continued. Giles continued to watch him in silence. He knew that asking questions wouldn’t get him anywhere. It was better to wait the old man out. They sat in silence for ten minutes before finally Methos grinned and continued his explanation, “I’m here about that papyrus.”

Giles involuntarily lay a hand on the papyrus.
“What’s it to you? This prophecy has nothing to do with us, or the Game.”

“I wrote it.”

“What?” Giles asked, incredulously. “You’re not a seer. Was it Cassandra?”

Methos winced slightly at the mention of Cassandra’s name before shaking his head.
“No Rupert. This is a bit embarrassing really. I made it up. I never intended it as a prophecy; it was a work of fiction. My first stab at writing a novel, if you like.”

Giles stared at the oldest Immortal for a moment before they both burst out laughing.

“Oh my. That is too funny. It’s bloody awful by the way.” Giles said between guffaws.
“I know. I was hoping to have it back before you read it.” Methos said, as he leaned over the desk and snatched the document away, “Bloody hell, my hieratic is atrocious, barely legible.”
“Nothing’s changed much then.” Giles said with a grin and snatched the papyrus back again and examining it. “I’ve got three words for you. Fancy a beer?”

The two Immortals had ensconced themselves in a corner booth at The Dog & Duck and were merrily chatting as they drank their fourth pint. They discussed the Watchers, the Slayer, and past misadventures in a variety of dead languages to make sure nobody would know what they were saying.

“So, with your Slayer off in Italy, what exactly are you doing with your time? Running the Council can’t be too demanding.” Methos said, smiling, his words dripping with sarcasm. Giles simply smiled back.

“Well, when I’m not trying to rebuild the Council, find all the new Slayers or recruit new Watchers and assign them a Slayer?” He replied with equal sarcasm, “I’m training a new student, a young man I met in Sunnydale.”
“Really?” Methos said with a surprising amount of interest. “So, what’s he like?”

“That’s it? No lectures on how stupid it is to take on students? How you’re more likely to face a challenge protecting a student? Joe was right, MacLeod has mellowed you.”

“Joe should learn to keep his big mouth shut.” Methos answered, but he was grinning as he said it. He examined the bottom of his glass very carefully, as if expecting to find gold or for the glass to transfigure itself. “Nope.” He said at length, “There’s definitely nothing left in there.”

Taking the hint, Giles sighed and went to the bar. Methos took the opportunity to take in his surroundings. It had been a while since he’d been in a real English pub and drunk real beer, as opposed to the cold piss that was passed off as beer in Europe and the States. The only thing that came close was the schwarzbier of Germany. But even British real ale was nothing compared to the beer of his youth. Over the millennia many things had changed, most for the better, but beer wasn’t one of them.

“Do you want to meet him then?” Giles asked, snapping Methos back to the present. Methos looked at him blankly. “Xander? My student?”

“Why would I want to do that?” Methos sneered.

“For the same reason that I decided to teach him. Because he’s a remarkable young man who grew up fighting demons on a Hellmouth. And because he’s my friend.”

“Fine. But don’t tell him who I am, okay?”

“No, I’m actually sending a memo out to all the Watchers to let them know who you really are. What do you take me for? Anyway, he should be here any minute.” Giles muttered that last part into his pint as he took another sip.
“Excuse me?” Methos demanded, but Giles just looked at him, unabashed.

As they both felt the Buzz of an Immortal they turned to the door and watched Xander enter. Giles waved, and the young Immortal walked over to their booth.
“Xander Harris, I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine, Adam Pierson. Adam, this is my student Xander.” Giles said rather formally. The two shook hands and Xander sat down beside Giles.
“So, how long have you known Giles?”
“Oh, it feels like forever.” Methos replied with a sly grin.

“Cool. Did you know his teacher Methos?” Xander said with all the tact and diplomacy of George W Bush.
“Intimately.” Methos replied with amusement. Xander regarded him quizzically for a moment before a look of realisation dawned on him. Methos was suddenly worried he’d said too much until Xander said,
“Adam Pierson! Of course, you’re the guy that was working on the Methos chronicles. How’s that going?”
Methos inwardly gave a sigh of relief before replying,
“I’m not with the Watchers any more.” He said, lowering his voice so as not to be overheard. “Some of them discovered my Immortality, so I left before things became uncomfortable.”

“Man, sorry. That must bite.” Xander said with genuine sympathy. Methos smiled, he could see why Rupert loved the boy. He was so honest, straightforward and good humoured that it was hard to dislike him. Just like Richie, Methos mused with an unexpected pang of sorrow, I’m sure the two of them would have gotten on like a house on fire.

The three Immortals sat chatting about nothing in particular until closing and then went their separate ways. Giles had reluctantly relinquished the papyrus on the promise that Methos would visit again the next day. He didn’t really expect the old man to keep his word, so he was pleasantly surprised to find him waiting outside his office.

“To what do I owe this honour? Twice in one lifetime?” Giles said smiling as he ushered him into his office. Methos didn’t return the smile and Rwpyrt realised that this was Methos, no trace of Adam Pierson masking him. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s following me. They ransacked my hotel room.”
“One of us?”

“I don’t know. The bastard never comes close enough to tell. Maybe, or maybe the Hunters are back.”

“I thought we’d eradicated them. After Horton’s death so many were tried by the Council, surely we got them all?” Giles said, the concern clear in his face.

“I don’t take anything for granted.”

“What do you want me to do? There’s a monastery I know…”

“No. If it is Hunters I want to be able to fight back. I just need to stay at your place until my flight back Stateside.”

“Of course. What’s mine is yours. Give me five minutes to ring Xander and warn him that there may be a headhunter about and then we can go to my flat. What’s the point of being in charge if you can’t take a day off now and again, right?”

TBC
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