| The Problem |
| Methos scowled at his half empty closet for several minutes before slamming the door shut and storming into the kitchen. "Coffee," he muttered, "I need coffee." The ancient immortal made himself a cup of instant coffee and sat down at his kitchen table which was covered in term papers he needed to mark. When he had finished his third cup of coffee (this one properly brewed from beans), he felt calmer and ready to deal with his problem. He got dressed and headed out. *** Duncan MacLeod climbed slowly out of his car and headed toward his dojo. His plan was to have a shower and go to bed. It was only ten in teh morning and he had already beheaded two old enemies. Somehow the second battle had become a snowball fight until Duncan had managed to penetrate the guy's snowfort. The quickenung had had the unfortuante effect of melting all the snow in the immediate area and a large section of the park was now frozen mud, some of which Duncan was covered in from falling over after the quickening. As soon as he entered the dojo, Duncan felt the unmistakable immortal buzz well up at the base of his skull. Groaning, Duncan pulled out his katana and climbed the stairs to the second floor slowly, desperately hoping it would be Amanda or Richie. When he finally reached the second floor and looked into his kitchen, he saw a tall, slim, sweatered figure rooting around in his fridge. "Methos, I thought you were in Paris until next week." he commented, putting his sword back into THE PLACE. "Ah ha!" Methos announced, standing up. He downed half the beer he had found and smiled in satisfaction for a moment before turning to MacLeod. "I got back to Seacouver last night," he explained. He finished his beer and went back into the fridge for another one. "So did you come to see me or just drink my beer?" Duncan asked, slowly taking off his coat. Being immortal healed all wounds, but it didn't stop him from getting exhausted. "If all I wanted was beer I would have gone to see Joe," Methos answered. "He has better stuff." "Well, could you come back later? I really need a shower and a nap." "Sure," Methos replied, "just give me your credit card and I'm gone." Duncan froze, an inch away from putting his coat down. "You want me to give you my credit card?" he demanded incredulously. "Or cash, if you prefer." Methos shrugged. "Although really, a credit card just makes more sense." "Duncan sputtered for several minutes, staring at Methos. "Why!?" he finally managed to choke out. "For sweaters." "But them yourself!" Methos shook his head. "Since my closet was emptied because of you, you get to replace all my sweaters!" Duncan blinked several times but he couldn't make that make any sense. "How is it my fault you don't have enough sweatesr?" "For hundreds of years, I managed to keep mostly out of the way of other immortals. Then, the moment I become friends with you, there are immortals all over the place and my sweaters keep getting wrecked in fights. Blood stains, rips, tears...you name it, it's happened to my sweaters." Before Duncan could react to this, Methos had pulled his wallet from the coat he still hadn't put down and disappeared with a cheerful wave. |