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Immortal Style, Slayer Sarcasm

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Summary: Sequel to "Immortal Beloved"

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Highlander > GeneralQuicksilverFR1814,735122,64124 May 0324 May 03Yes
Immortal Style, Slayer Sarcasm
by: Quicksilver
mbsilvana@yahoo.com
Really bad title, I know. Sorry
Sequel to Immortal Beloved
Standard Disclaimers
There should be two more in this series....
More of my fan fic can be found at Daire’s site (check the 7 D links page).
Thanks to my betas- I hope I remembered all the changes! I deleted the copies.... :-(
Remy and Joanna are too good to me!
I’ve been getting many varied replies.... keep it up! I do listen, and right now I’m contemplating two VERY different endings..... or maybe just one warped one?

The Prophecy of Forever- the Slayer’s Prophecy

There will come a day when the Guardians
Are demoralized, falling from their own strength
The Guarded will cross paths, and nothing shall be the same
The youngest and oldest shall meet
Each torn by their own weaknesses
And eternity becomes truly eternal
The blood shall mingle, and death shall be conquered
The Slayer falls, rising to a new destiny
One kiss for love, one kiss for hatred
and the final seals her fate

The Prophecy of the Slayer’s End- Angelus’ Prophecy
There will come a day when the Guardians
Are demoralized, falling from their own strength
The Guarded will cross paths, and nothing shall be the same
The youngest and oldest shall meet
Each torn by their own weaknesses
She is weak from a hopeless love
And his justice shall be poetic
The Slayer dies upon the hand she loved too well
Live Immortal blood flows over her
And another shall not rise to take her place


The Prophecy of Eternal Night-Cassandra’s Fear

There will come a day when the Guardians
Are demoralized, falling from their own strength
The Guarded will cross paths, and nothing shall be the same
The youngest and oldest shall meet
Each torn by their own weaknesses
He is doomed from the loss of her
Their names together spell death
Death himself is helpless to defeat them
Mortal foes now Immortal allies
The world shall never undo the darkness their shadow casts

Buffy looked at the book in front of her. If was large, dusty and old-looking. Like the hundreds of others she and Giles had been looking through for that damn prophecy.
If only Adam were here, she thought. He’d probably log onto the net and pull up whatever the relevant Watcher file related. Or else prod some more of his mysterious contacts into revealing what the truth was.
But the Immortal teacher had vanished after finding out that his former lover had returned to help Angelus defeat Buffy. Adam Pierson had gone AWOL, and Buffy was left to face this damn prophecy alone. In the week since Adam had left, she’d had no luck trying to decipher their prophecy or find out what Angelus was up to with his own prophecy.
In frustration, she hurled the book against the wall, glad the Giles wasn’t there. A few pages fell out, but she ignored them. “When I get my hands on him....” she promised herself, not sure exactly what she would do. Whatever it would be, it would be violent and extremely painful.

Unaware that he was being cursed a couple hundred miles away, Methos walked down the driveway. After having a week to get oriented again, he’d finally figured out what he had to do. Get reinforcements.
MacLeod would be out, obviously. There was no way he could possibly trick Duncan into helping, and Methos wasn’t crazy enough to think MacLeod wouldn’t charge him big favors for any help he’d render. That left....
Amanda? Interesting idea, but.... she was smarter than she looked. Joe would know way too much about the Hellmouth, so, by ruling out everyone else, that left only....
He knocked on the door, aware that the person soon to be graced with his company would already be aware of his presence. He leaned against the porch railing, waiting.
Richie Ryan, former student of Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, and eternal nineteen year old, opened the door. Methos raised an eyebrow. “Is that for me?” he asked, indicating the sword Richie was holding in his right hand.
“It might be,” Richie threatened. He stepped back and gestured that Methos should come inside. “Whaddya want?” he asked, leaning against the door.
Methos started to browse around Richie’s house. “Nice spread you have here,” he said softly. He picked up a book. “A Separate Peace? Didn’t think that was your line,” he teased.
“I’m trying to get a little more educated,” Richie responded, taking the book out of the older Immortal’s hands.
Methos smiled. This was almost too easy. Richie was already half-way hooked. “Speaking of education, I’ve been doing some teaching myself. At a high school.”
Richie started to laugh. He continued to laugh until streams of tears were streaming down his face. “You... teaching!?” he exclaimed.
Methos smiled. “Do you need something to help you calm down? Like a brandy, or a nice clean gun shot?” he asked pleasantly.
Richie managed to calm down on his own. “What are you after?” he asked.
Methos already had Richie right where he wanted him. “Remember my job? Well, I sort of need some help....”
Richie looked like a car had just hit him. “Ask MacLeod instead?” he said hopefully.
“MacLeod doesn’t look like a teenager,” Methos said bluntly, He ran a surveying glance over Richie. “Not that you do much, either,” he said in a more disgusted tone. “We’ll have to work on that....”
Richie got a panicked look in his eye. “What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded.
Methos just smiled, which made Richie long to run for a bomb shelter.

Mondays. I hate ‘em, Buffy thought as she shook her head, trying to get her mussed hair out of her eyes. She rolled out of bed and found the floor, shoving her feet into a pair of overly-cute wolf slippers. A gift from Oz. Let no one say he has no sense of humor, she thought disgustedly, staring at her feet.
She managed to make her way to the bathroom, where she ran a brush through her hair and brushed her teeth. This is just one of THOSE days where you wished you could go right back to bed. She stared in the mirror and frowned at her reflection.
She managed to get some clothes on and make it down to the kitchen. Her mother was up to her ears in some project for the museum, so she didn’t notice how tired her child looked. Burning the candle at both ends in finally getting to me, Buffy thought. She poured herself a glass of orange juice and downed it.
Her mother drove her to school. She grunted answers to her mother’s prying questions. Her mother pulled up in front of the school. “Earth to Buffy!” she said, trying to get her daughter’s attention. “We’re here!”
Buffy got out of the car, moving like a zombie. Willow bounced up to Buffy. “Long weekend?” she asked perkily.
Buffy contemplated staking herself. “You have no idea.”
“I’ve got news!” Willow bubbled happily. “Mr. Pierson is back!”
Buffy’s mind sharpened, and she woke up for the first time that day. “Where is he?” she demanded, using her “Slayer voice”- the one Willow recognized as “I’m gonna kill something”.
“Um, in his room-” Willow started. She watched as Buffy barreled that way.
Xander, meanwhile, had come up to the Willow with his girlfriend Cordelia in tow (or Cordelia was towing Xander around, however one wanted to look at it). “Do I sense the need to get my black suit out again?” Xander asked. “Who’s gonna die?”
Willow frowned at Xander. “Mr. Pierson,” she admitted with a sigh.
“Darn. Guess I won’t need that suit after all. He’ll just keep coming back,” Xander said. Then he perked up. “Anyone wanna bet on how many times she kills him?”
Cordelia sighed, wondering what she was doing with him. Then he’d smile at her, and she’d feel the familiar heat course through her body. Hormones. It had to be the hormones.

Richie Ryan looked on the school with distaste. He hadn’t been in one for almost seven years, and even then he hadn’t attended all that often. He cursed Methos in Russian. Russian had such nasty-sounding curses. Maybe he should learn the rest of the language.....
He entered the building, grumbling under his breath. It was bad enough that he would look like a teenager for the rest of his life- did Methos have to remind him? Now here he was, stuck trying to return to high school. He held the backpack he had brought, trying to decide what to do.
A blonde noticed his confusion. She came towards him with a shy smile. “Are you new here?” she asked.
“Yes. I’m Richie,” he introduced himself.
Her smile became more charming. “My name is Amy,” she informed him. “Are you looking for something?” she asked.
Richie smiled back at her, watching the her cheeks color. “I’m looking for the Principal’s Office. Have to meet with Principal Skeeter.”
Amy winced slightly. “Principal Snyder. Better you than me. I’ll show you where his office is.” She led him down a hall and stopped outside a door. “Good luck!” she whispered. She took a long look at him. “Hope you come out in one piece.”
Richie watched her leave, then knocked on the door. A querulous vice ordered him to enter.
Richie walked into the office, and his eyes immediately fell onto a short troll-like man. He smiled hesitantly. “Are you the Principal?” he asked, going for shyness. He was supposed to be a teenager, not a twenty-three year old.
The man nodded, and motioned for Richie to sit. “Let’s get one thing straight. I will tolerate no mischief, disorderly conduct or other misbehavior on your part. Is that clear?” Principal Snyder asked.
Richie nodded. “Good. Now take this schedule and get out of here.” Snyder thrust a piece of paper towards Richie.
Before Richie realized what had happened, he was out in the hall, clutching his schedule. “Friendly, wasn’t he?” he mused aloud. He decided to go find his first class.
Richie somehow managed to make it to his homeroom. “Computers,” he muttered. “With Willow,” he said quietly. Methos had briefed him on “The Scooby Gang”, so Richie was prepared to see a shy red head with lousy fashion sense.
What he wasn’t prepared for was the attractiveness of her. She’s sixteen years old, Richie, he reminded himself. Her long red hair was worn loose, and she moved with the awkward grace of a young colt. He felt himself staring.
“You must be Richie,” she said warmly. “Take a seat and make yourself comfy, and I’ll help you as soon as I’ve given the rest of the class instructions,” she informed him.
Richie took one of the unused computers and flicked in on. Willow walked over and smiled down at him. “Now, I’ve already set up the computer passwords. Now all you need to do is log on as RR1001.....”

Methos sat at his desk, and was, as usual, reading his book. Le Morte D’Arthur. Buffy stormed in, and Methos looked up with a lazy smile that would have melted many hearts. Buffy, however, had been smiled at by the best of them and wasn’t falling for it.
“Where have you been!” she yelled at him angrily.
He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off as Buffy continued. “I’ve been trying to find the answer to this prophecy, and you go running off when things get a little tough! My boyfriend’s one of them, too, remember! God damn you, Methos!” she yelled.
Methos rose to his feet and shushed her by clamping a hand over her mouth. “Never EVER call me that where we can be overheard,” he hissed.
Buffy reached up to flip him over, but Methos stopped her by agilely moving out of the way. “I went and got some help,” Methos answered.
Buffy perked up. “Help? What kind of help?” she asked eagerly. She wasn’t eager to die, after all.
Methos gave her a secretive smile. “You’ll just have to wait and see,” he purred. She frowned angrily, but he laughed at her. “Now shouldn’t you be getting to class?”
Buffy scowled at him. “Shouldn’t you be teaching one?” she snapped back.
Methos stood up and stretched. “I am. My students are all on a little Quest in the library,” he said with a smirk. “I decided that it was time that they see the inside of the library for a change.”
Buffy felt an involuntary smile pull on the corners of her mouth. “And in the process drive Giles crazy.” She liked how the Immortal’s mind worked.
His eyes widened innocently. “The thought never occurred to me.” Then he pretending to consider it. “Though it definitely has possibilities.....” Methos reached over and picked up a piece of paper. He scribbled his name on it, then handed it to Buffy.
“What’s this?” she asked, confused.
“A late pass,” he answered.
“But I’m not late!” she protested.
Methos smiled and held up a hand. Sure enough, the late bell rang just then. “You are now,” he said to the Slayer’s retreating back.

Angel danced with Drusilla. “Don’t you just love to DANCE,” she exclaimed, waving happily at Spike. Spike sat in his wheelchair, scowling for all he was worth.
“I know I do,” Angel said softly, dipping her back. Her back arched temptingly and he gave into the urge to nibble on her collar bone.
“I don’t see why you’re dancing,” a voice came from the side. Angel released Drusilla, who continued the waltz on her own.
Angel bowed to the newcomer. “Why not? Haven’t you just ever done anything just for fun, Charlotte?” he asked.
She placed her hands sternly on her hips. “Well, lover, there’s a small matter of Methos and the Slayer running around. They’ll kill us, you know. Have you forgotten what you promised me?” she demanded.
Angel walked towards her, kissing each of her hands. “Relax. Everything is going right along schedule. As we speak, things are moving into position. The second night is at hand.”
Charlotte sniffed disdainfully. “I don’t want to do anything with your cursed prophecy. I want my Benny back!” she yelled angrily.
Drusilla tsked. “Is Daddy going to have a fight?” she asked, spinning to a stop. She placed her hands on her breasts and rubbed them enticingly down her sides. “Can I play, too?” she asked.
Spike grabbed her hand, licking her fingers. “Come on, pet,” he said. “We can have a little fight of our own.”
Drusilla sighed happily and took the handles of his wheelchair. “Ta ta for now, darlings,” she said airily. “And don’t worry, Charlotte. You’ll get all your desires,” she said, blowing a kiss to Angelus.
Charlotte waited until the insane vampire had left the room. “All I desire? All I want is Methos,” she said. “And you said you’d give him to me!”
Angel grabbed her, lifting her by the shoulders so her feet hung a few feet off the ground. “And you will,” he promised darkly. “But remember, I get to have him first!”
“What do you want him for?” Charlotte demanded. “I thought you were after Buffy!”
Angelus let her down gently, then turned away. She started to follow him, but he whirled and smacked her so hard that she flew into the wall. “Yes, I want the Slayer.... but I have to have Immortal blood to do it. LIVING immortal blood. And since you and I are living-impaired, that leaves Methos.”
Charlotte shook her head, the glossy black tresses bouncing with a life that their possessor had long ago lost. “Immortal blood? Can’t you just find another? From what I understand, there’s plenty of Immortals around....”
Angelus sighed. He grabbed her by the chin and raised her head to meet his eyes. “Immortals don’t like Hellmouths. As a rule, they stay away from them,” he informed her, like a teacher instructing a less-than-intelligent student. “Since Methos is here, we’re going to take advantage of that,” he said.
“How are we going to get him?” Charlotte asked. “Each time you go after him, he throws your challenge aside the way a human swat a fly.”
Angelus walked out of the room, dragging Charlotte in his wake. She followed docilely, curious. He led her to a small room where a glowing orb sat upon a table. “Bait,” he whispered.
Charlotte looked at it, amazed. “It has a soul in it!” she whispered softly. She reached out to touch it, but Angelus playfully smacked her hand away. “Indeed it does. And the soul is one Methos can’t help but try to rescue.”

Richie walked into the cafeteria, feeling every inch the new kid. He scanned the crowd, seeking an anchor. Finally he saw Willow, and he gathered up his courage to go talk to her.
“Hi,” he said, once again playing it shy.
Willow cocked her head to the side, looking surprise. “H-hello, Richie,” she answered. “What do you want?”
Richie smiled his sweet smile. “I don’t know anyone here except you and Amy,” he said quietly. “I was hoping you could introduce me around?”
Willow smiled. “Sure, I can do that. C’mon,” she said cheerfully. “I’ll introduce you to my bestest friends.”
Richie was surprised at her obvious speaking error, but decided to keep his mouth shut. He followed her outside to where a group of people were sitting. He recognized the blonde as Buffy from Methos’ description, but the others were unfamiliar.
“Hi, Wil,” Buffy said cheerily. “Who’s this with you?” she asked.
“This is Richie Ryan,” Willow said. “Richie, I’d like you to meet Xander, Cordelia, Buffy, and that guy there is my boyfriend Oz,” finished with a proud smile.
Richie kept his disappointment down. Damn, she’s taken, he thought. “Hi,” he said.
Buffy was looking at him, with cold eyes. He smiled at her to relax her, but she only became more tense. He decided to work on Xander and Cordelia. “Xander?” he said. “Is that short for Alexander?” he asked. He certainly doesn’t look like a moronic idiot.... he thought, recalling Methos’ short description.
Xander flinched dramatically. “Please! Only my mother calls me that,” he said. “And only when’s she’s mad at me.”
The group laughed, except Buffy. She stood up and walked away. “What’d I do?” Richie wondered aloud.

Methos held the note, clenching it in his hand. Buffy walked in, walking right up to Methos so that she was standing nose-to-nose with him. “Is it Richie?” she demanded.
“Huh? What?” Methos asked absentmindedly.
“Is your help Richie?” she asked again.
“Yes, yes,” Methos said, turning from Buffy. “I’ve got something to do....” he said quietly, pulling away from her.
Buffy grabbed his arm and swung him around to face her. “You’re going to tell me where you’re going. You have a class to teach, remember?” she asked.
Methos shrugged into his jacket. “This is more important,” he muttered.
Buffy yanked the note from his hands. “Methos- I need you. Your sixty-eighth wife, Alexa,” Buffy read allowed. “You have sixty-eight wives?” Buffy asked, stunned. She’d realized he was very old, but she hadn’t thought of his past very much. Probably because it was just too daunting a task.....
Methos snatched the note back. “Yes.”
“You’re married?” Buffy asked, realizing what that note had said. The attraction she felt towards Methos suddenly seemed obscene.
“Not now. I was,” he replied.
“Is Alexa a vampire, too? Or Immortal?” she asked.
“No. I saw her die,” he whispered, leaning back into the chalkboard. His body seemed to shrink in on itself, and Buffy glimpsed an almost incomprehensible loneliness. The loneliness of a man who’d seen countless people die, and felt helpless because of their deaths.
Buffy hated to push him, but her Sacred Duty took priority to one man’s suffering, even an Immortal man’s. “Do you know what it is?”
Methos shook his head. “It’s her hand-writing, though, and no one knew we had been married,” he said softly.
Buffy reached out and caught his hands. “Whatever it is, we’ll do it together.” Her smile was weak, but determined. “I just have to finish my classes today.”
Methos sighed and undid his jacket. “I guess so. Anyway, you have a Pop Quiz in History.”
“I thought you said you didn’t give tests!” Buffy exclaimed. She’d been paying attention to his lectures, but there was no way she could pass one of his tests.
He shook his head. “So what? I lied.”

Richie wandered into the library right after the final bell. He immediately ran into an older-looking man wearing glasses.
“Can I help you?” the man asked in a very English accent.
Another Englishman, Richie thought, even though Methos really wasn’t English. “Um, I was told I could get-” he began, only to be interrupted as Xander and Willow entered, banging the doors wide open.
“Um, yes, you’re new here, Mr....” Giles said politely, waiting for Richie to fill-in-the-blank.
“Ryan. Richie Ryan.”
“Um, yes, Mr. Ryan, I’ll-” Giles began before he recognized the name. “Wait a second- RICHIE RYAN?” he asked.
Richie frowned at Giles. “You don’t happen to have a tattoo, do you?” he asked. It would be just his luck to run into a Watcher here.
Giles pulled his sleeves up to show bare wrists. “Not that division of the Watchers,” he said.
“Well, he does have a tattoo elsewhere-” Willow began before catching on. She did a classic double-take. “You know each other?” she asked, astounded.
Richie tensed, his eyes shifting right and left rapidly. “I think you’re about to get your explanation,” he said quietly.
Adam walked into the room, Buffy walking quickly beside him. She was stalking around in typical Slayer fashion. Mr. Pierson smiled tensely at his students, then relaxed when he saw Richie. “So you made it,” he said.
Richie shrugged. “I was trying to get the rest of the books for my classes,” he answered.
“Would someone please fill me in here?” Xander asked testily. “Unlike certain people, I don’t have access to a Watcher Data Base.”
Methos’ glared, reaching out and catching Xander by the collar. “And exactly what do you know about the Watcher Data Base?” he demanded.
Xander’s eyes were frightened. Much as he ad gotten teased by the Immortal, he’s never been afraid of him before. The cold looked in the hazel eyes promised pain. “I was joking! You guys have a Data Base? For real?”
“We don’t have time for this, Adam!” Buffy snapped. The Slayerettes looked surprised, for even though they knew Mr. Pierson was Immortal, he was still their teacher. For her to call him by his first name seemed... wrong.
Mr. Pierson let Xander go. “Fine. The short of the matter is that I called for back-up. Ergo, I called Richie, though the Gods know why.”
Richie frowned. “Yeah, right, old guy. And I didn’t know you were a Pagan.”
“I am sometimes,” Methos replied.
“Okay, now please tell us what Richie is doing here?” Cordelia asked. “I have a manicure appointment in an hour.”
Richie drew his sword, and started to polish it with a cloth he produced from his backpack. Xander let a low whistle out. “So, you’re one of them?” he asked.
“Yup,” Richie replied concisely.
“Cool! Can you tell me where you hide the sword?” Xander asked.
Willow, though, caught onto the implications. “How old are you?” she asked shyly. He’d been her student this morning, now it seemed that he was actually a couple hundred years older than she was.
“Twenty-three,” Richie answered.
“Hundred?” Willow asked.
Richie shook his head. “Just twenty-three. None of us even come close to matching the old guy’s age.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Buffy said. “Now that that’s cleared up, I suggest we move onto more pertinent matters- such as what we’re doing about this Prophecy mess.”
“It’s the second night tonight,” Methos said. “If I had my way, I’d be out of the country by now. Maybe the Bahamas,” he said almost wistfully. Richie, though, knew him too well. “What’s wrong?” he demanded, seeing a certain sadness in the older Immortal’s eyes.
“Nothing,” he replied shortly. Too shortly. Richie resolved to pry the information out of Methos later, when they were alone. Never mind that I’ve never had any luck before, Richie thought. This time the old guy’s gonna give first!
Methos reached out and pulled a book off one of Giles’ personnel shelves. “I’ve got to go out for a while- business.” He met Buffy’s eyes squarely. “Giles, see if you can pull up some research on soul binding, possession, or any other method that would allow the dead to come back to life after dying a natural death.”
“”Soul binding?” Giles asked, surprised. “What do you need to know that for?”
Methos answered, “Because I think it just came up,” he said, whirling around to leave. “Buffy’s coming with me- Richie, stay here and make sure the rest of the Scooby Gang is safe,” he said.
Buffy looked surprised. Methos had never indicated that he planned any action, much less had included her. Then she looked at the stacks of books in the library, and followed the Immortal out the door.

Methos walked hurriedly through the streets, trying to keep t the shadows. Buffy was at his side, a slim figure that moved silently. He turned and looked at her, trying to decide what to do. “It won’t be dark for a few hours yet,” he said pensively.
“I think I know where to find Angel,” Buffy said quietly.
Methos lowered a glare on her. “You do?” he asked. “Then why isn’t he dead yet?”
Buffy looked away from Methos’ eyes. “I can’t kill him,” she whispered. “I’ve tried many, many times, yet I just CAN’T!” she said, yelling.
Methos reached out, and Buffy started to flinch away. Instead, he patted her on the shoulder comfortingly. “I know,” he said quietly. “I’ll kill him for you,” he promised the Slayer.
She looked at him, wondering. Exactly who is he? So many different things. Where is the real Methos?
Methos caressed her cheek gently. “You have to kill Charlotte for me, though.”
Buffy smiled, trying to get back into her usual confidence. “Sounds like a deal!” she said. She stepped out of his reached, then offered her hand to him. “Let’s shake on that one!” she declared.
He took her hand, shaking it. Then he bowed and kissed the back of it lightly, and old world gesture. “Whatever milady commands,” he said gallantly. Then his face sobered “Now where can we find Angelus?
Buffy’s smile faded. “He wants us to find him, or else he wouldn’t have sent that note. There’s only one place he’ll be.”

Angel sat on his bed, waiting. Buffy was sure to come. He watched Charlotte pace back and forth like a trapped cat. He hummed to himself.
Charlotte whirled and picked up a knick knack he had left out. It had meant something to Angel (arty vampire he had been), but Angelus laughed as she hurled it towards him. he was her sire, and as such, much more powerful than she was. “Don’t like the poor thing?” he asked.
Charlotte hissed, her eyes flickering to a yellower shade. “Damn you! This is serious! I have had enough of your cavalier attitude towards this situation. If you don’t-” she began, then stopped as the door was thrown open. She spun around and watched as Methos entered the room, tailed by Buffy.
“Hello, lover,” Angelus purred to Buffy, if anything, becoming more relaxed.
“Hello,” she said coldly. “Where’s Alexa?” Buffy demanded.
Angelus snapped his fingers, and the orb rose out of its box. “Right here.... the Methuselah stone....”

Far away in England, a red-headed Immortal witch woke up out of a sound sleep. She started to cry. “Methos....” Cassandra whispered, terrified. “This isn’t what’s suppose to happen....”
And from the depths of hell, darkness stirred, ready. The third prophecy was about to come to pass... on the second night.....

THE END.... for now.....
please don’t kill me! I needed a cliff hanger!
FEEDBACK! FEEDBACK!!
mbsilvana@yahoo.com

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