lt_safe_house | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Date: June 4th
Location: Corridor
Status: Public (Methos, Loki, Jan)
Summary: Jan and Methos talk ... with a little help from Loki

It still made Jan nervous that he could feel Benjamin’s presence almost every time he left or returned to his room. Surely the other immortal could feel him too and what if he passed any information about his habits he learned from it on to McLeod?

He still hoped that Benjamin was more neutral than on McLeod’s side, but he was an immortal ...

Whatever Benjamin’s intentions towards him were, though, Jan couldn’t let them keep him from his shooting practice. He steeled himself and walked out of his room.

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"Because nobody can lose a floppy disk?"

Mopping up wasn't getting any easier. He still suspected that he was spreading more water around than actually ended up in his bucket.

"They were far from even considering the option of using floppy discs, I assure you. They didn't want any information digitised. They're as stuck in the past sometimes as some of our kind."

He shook himself, thinking of the time when Don Salzer had tried to do otherwise.

"Really, though, Jan. I know there's a lot of us around who'll go out of their way to fight, but as many and more go for centuries without touching a sword for anything but training. There's a lot of good men and women among us, and bad ones, too, just as with the mortals. We're not THAT differnt, you know. And running and hiding - what kind of life is that? It takes all the fun out."

Jan glanced down at the stump of his thumb. What choice had he but to run and hide?

"So why have I only ever met the bad ones? You'd think I've been around long enough, if thee are so many nice guys."

Methos raised his eyebrows.

"Maybe because the nice ones don't go into hot pursuit if you run away or try to evade them, but leave you alone if oyu don't seem to be interested in company?" he suggested.

"Or maybe you are just too trusting yourself," Jan suggested. "Making friends with our stalkers, letting me live to become immortal ... You seem to have survived it so far, but ... Don't trust them too much."

It was rather strange to be worried about another immortal, one older and much fitter than himself at that, but he couldn't help it. Benjamin wasn't just an old friend, he was someone from his own time, the only one left alive that had known him before his death.

Methos sighed.

"Jan, I've played this game for much longer than you've been alive, and I assure you, isolating yourself from every single one of the others will make you very lonely, and very dead sooner or later."

He shrugged.

"Besides - what better place to keep an eye on our stalkers than from the inside?"

"And talking to them nearly got me very dead much sooner. Yes, I have a gun to defend myself if it comes to that, but ..." Was it wise to reveal that much? Even to Benjamin?

He looked down at his hand again.

"Do you enjoy it?"

That took Methos slightly aback.

"Do I enjoy what?" he asked. "Life? Very much so! I fully intend to live another 5000 years, too."

"The danger," Jan clarified. "The fighting."

"I've gone for centuries at times without a single duel," Methos said. "I like being alive, and not getting into them has a way of keeping me alive more reliably than trusting in my skills to win."

"You certainly seemed to be enjoying yourself out there with McLeod," Jan hinted.

"I enjoy a bit of horseplay with McLeod as much as the next guy," Methos admitted. "It's good to stay in shape, just in case someone does come after me and running's not an option. Back when we met the first time... You know how I got to Europe?"

"You weren't born here?" Jan asked for distracted from his thoughts about the sparring session for now.

"Born? Oh no!" Methos chuckled.

"Do I look European to you? I was born in what's Egypt today, long before anyone ever even thought to name it that." He paused for a second. "Or found, rather than born. Not like any of us are anything other than foundlings. Taken on as the chieftain's own son, though, lucky me. There's worse fates for abandoned babes growing up in those times."

"Yes," Jan replied honestly. "You do. I never even doubted it back then."

"It's the hair," Methos said, as if stating something obvious. "Please tell me it's just the hair."

"Why? What's wrong with my hair?" Psychology never had been Jan's strength. People always confused him.

Methos nearly choked on laughter. "Oh Jan," he managed to get out. "You're just the best, you know that?"

"My hair," he clarified, then suggested: "Maybe I'd look less European to you if I let it grow out and put some Egyptian style to it, and maybe some kohl around my eyes?"

"Do they still do that in Egypt?" Jan didn't remember what the Egyptians had looked like when he'd last come through their country back in 1938. He hadn't been paying attention.

"Hardly, I think," Methos admitted. "Then again," he added with a grin, "I'm not living in Egypt now either. Seriously, though.. Bronze-age nomad, that's what I am. You can tell by the sweet disposition."

Jan looked Benjamin up and down, then shrugged. "You look more modern European than I do as far as I can tell."

"I blend in well," Methos said. "Kind of comes with the title. You either do or all kinds of young ones are after you to take your head and your power. Better to go unnoticed."

He looked the younger immortal up and down. "You don't look so strange for this time and place either, though."

"I ... feel strange," Jan tried to explain. "My thinking is out of place. By the time I get used to the social norms of a time they've already changed on me. And I don't look old enough to be that old fashioned."

"Dye your hair grey and put on some make-up for wrinkles?" Methos suggested. "Seriously, though, a lot of us never really leave the time they were born in, mentally and socially."

"And then I'd have to go back to university every ten years or so? And look completely out of place among all the kids just out of the Gymnasium? I don't think so," Jan said with a laugh.

"Just start your career after university," Methos suggested. "It's not like you need new training every ten years, other than what any practicing physician takes to stay on top of things?"

"And fake my references? It's bad enough to fake a birth certificate." But there was no other way to get one of those.