Methos Gets a New Life
Notes: Set after season 6 of BtVS, HL: S6 and HL: Endgame. Whedon and Davis/Panzer own it. Don't sue!
Challenge- Prologue --- Methos swore violently in several dead languages as he swerved to miss the small oncoming car. Unfortunately, the other car swerved in the same direction. The cars collided in a massive fireball as Adam Pierson finally got his chance to disappear.
Chapter 1 ---
The man known as Adam Pierson awoke with a violent intake of breath. As he opened his eyes to the darkness around him, it hit him. "Bloody morgue," he thought. Methos clawed his way for the zipper to the body bag he now wore for his only clothing. Scrambling towards the direction he thought the door would be, Methos was in a panic. "I have to get out of here before my funeral or cremation." After what seemed an eternity to an eternal man, Methos got the door open and stepped out in to the darkened morgue. His head swerved in several directions as he looked around for clothing to wear. Nothing. He swore again. "Hell, I'll just have to do this the old fashioned way," he thought with a grin.
The door inched its way open as Methos peeked outside. "Ahh, a dark hallway. Excellent!" He glanced around for security cameras and saw none. Methos made his way carefully down the hallway towards the exit sign pausing to listen for the possible over-achieving worker finally going home for the day. Luckily for Methos, few residents of Sunnydale were over- achievers. Methos exited the building without setting off an alarm, which he thought strange. He brushed off his passing concern in his search for a place to obtain clothing.
Methos came up to a cemetary and decided that he was safe from mortals and Immortals alike. In a regular town he might have been right. This was Sunnydale, and nothing was ever quite what it seemed.
--- The diminuitive redhead walked faster as she passed the cemetary. She knew that it was a bad idea to go this way but she felt confident that she would be alright with her bottle of holy water and a cross. Willow hurried around the corner and ran into something and sat down hard. She looked up and gaped at the stark naked man sitting across from her. He eyed her warily as he said, "Good evening. I don't suppose you have any clothes in that bag." She stuttered at him "Nothing that would fit you" as she stared at his nakedness. She closed her eyes quickly and took a deep breath.
Willow got up and backed away reaching into her handbag. Pulling out the cross, she held it in front of her like a weapon as Methos got up slowly. He eyed the cross and the looked at her. "What is that for?" he queried. "Ummmm, first test a failure," Willow muttered. Thinking quickly Willow splashed the holy water in Methos face and stepped back quickly waiting the running away that he would surely do. Grinning at Willow quizically and wiping the water off of his face Methos quipped, "Thanks for the bath but would you mind explaining what that was all about?"
Willow gaped at the audacity of the naked man now leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. She stuttered awkwardly as she forced herself to concentrate on his forehead and said, "It was nothing. You're just not what I expected. That's all."
"All right," said Methos in his smooth British accent. "My name's Timothy Adamson. Yours?" "Willow. Willow Rosenburg."
"How come you don't have any clothes?" she asked. Methos grinned at her straight-forward manner and said, "Felt like getting back to my roots." Methos straightened up from the wall and approached her in his relaxed gait.
"Look, as much as I'd like to stand next to a cemetary and chat, I'd rather get dressed and have a beer. Know where I can get the first?" Willow, stammered at his closeness and gulped. "I can get you some of my dad's clothes. It's just around the corner," she said and started walking. "Interesting way to end a day," Methos thought and followed her.