Highlander: General Series-prompt 60--15/100 complete
Title: Mortal Ties VII: Introductions at Joe's
Claim: Highlander: General Series
Fandom: Highlander/Supernatural
Characters/Pairing: Methos, Sam, Dean, Joe, Mac
Prompt: #60 drink
Word Count: 2005
Rating: 15
Author's Notes: written for crossovers100 master list is here 15/100 complete.
7th in the Mortal Ties Arc: I. Jane and Mary ~~ II. Weird, Even For This Family ~~III.Methos' Children ~~ IV.Dreams~~ V. Elvis, the Purple Gorilla ~~VI.Blood and Fire
"Its about damned time!" Joe called out as Methos walked into the bar with the two young men his watcher had managed to get all of one picture of--and a bad picture at that. The only reason Methos' watcher had gotten close was that Joe had told him the old man was headed to New York for a visit with Connor. "What the hell is going on with you?"
"Three beers, Joe, put them on my tab."
Joe huffed and shook his head. "Mac's about spitting nails."
Methos smirked.
"They better not drink as much as you do. Your tab is already the budget of a third world country." Joe grumbled.
"Hey, if--"
"Don't even bloody start," Methos cut off the shorter of the two young men.
"You going to introduce us?" the taller asked.
"Joe, this is Dean and this is Sammy"
"It's Sam," came the grumble complete with rolled eyes.
"Boys, that's Nanny Joe. He's Duncan's Watcher."
Joe raised an eyebrow as he sat the beers on the table.
"They know. All of it, including my name." Methos said simply.
Joe's eyebrow went higher. "How?"
"I told them"
"You told them? You? You actually told them?"
The Old Man picked up his beer with a smirk and took a drink.
Joe shook his head. "Fine. You'll explain eventually."
"He's always a smirking asshole then, it's not just us." the taller kid, Sam half stated, half asked.
"Pretty much," Joe grinned. His grin widened as he watched the look pass over Methos face. "Now things get interesting." he said as Mac entered the bar. He was glad that there was no one but these four at the moment. "Mac, lock the door." he called out. Business was always slow this time of day, and whatever the Old Man was up to was of far bigger interest than the couple bucks that might be made off the odd customer at three in the afternoon.
"What are you up to, Me-Adam!?" Mac demanded stalking over after he had closed up the front door.
Joe watched the two kids with Methos slip from harmless college age kids to a pair of dangerous men. If looks could kill, Mac would be recovering from a death due to the glares leveled on him over the near-slip of the Old Man's name.
"Having a beer, Mac,"
"You know what I mean, Methos!"
The danger level just went up a notch. Joe tensed waiting for something to happen.
"Can I shoot him?" the shorter asked with a gun that seemed to materialize out of thin air. "He had no fucking clue we knew your name. I don't like that."
"You can't shoot everything that annoys you, Dean" the other said tiredly, as if this was something he'd explained a thousand times to a very slow child.
"Why not? Not like he wouldn't recover. Even make sure it's a gut shot that doesn't hit anything too vital. The healing sparky things would have him fixed up in--ten minutes tops."
"It's impolite to splatter blood and guts all over Joe's nice clean bar, he has to reopen for business when this is over."
Joe shook his head, torn between worry and wanting to laugh as the Oldest Immortal merely smirked at a spluttering Mac. What the hell had the old man gotten into this time?
"You had me call Cassandra--"
"Yes, and I saw Cassandra in New York. They did as well. I'm sure you had Connor's phone ringing off the hook until he gave you a full report."
"Connor didn't hear anything you said to her, or that they said to her. And when I called her she wouldn't say anything either other than you need my island."
"Exactly what is with the him going all jealous boyfriend over your bony ass?" Dean demanded.
"Now, sweetheart, no need for you to get jealous."
Sam groaned.
MacLeod began spluttering, wide eyed and red face.
Sam groaned a second time when Methos smirked. "I need another one of these." He held up his bottle and guzzled over half of it. "Them two are two of a kind. One as bad as the other."
Joe grabbed the kid a beer and then suddenly. "How old are you."
"Just turned 23, he's 26, almost 27. We're old enough." Sam answered.
Joe nodded and handed over the beer. There was a weariness to the kid that certainly seemed old enough. Methos and the shorter kid-- Dean? Joe decided that he was more surprised that Methos would say so to Mac than Methos would get involved with a man.
"METHOS!!!" Duncan roared. "How--ye canna--he's--"
"Oh shit," Sam whispered.
Methos grabbed Dean who was making a move to get off his barstool. "Now, love," Methos said in such a smarmy tone Joe nearly snorted.
Joe caught the downright evil glint in the young man's eye as he fell into Methos' tug, which Joe was pretty sure was to keep Mac from getting hit. The kid leaned into Methos and laid one hell of a kiss on him, the Old Man stiffened a second and went with it.
Joe choked as he saw Mac's gaping expression.
"You know, I could have happily lived my whole life without seeing that. If my childhood hadn't done the trick, this just left me scarred for life."
"Aw Sammy," Dean smirked over Methos' shoulder "We'll kiss you too."
Joe chuckled as the kid thunked his head on the bar.
"You two are impossible." the kid grumbled then asked Joe "Can I get a shot? Cherry Vodka? Watching your big brother and your grandfather make out takes a bit more than beer."
"WHAT" Mac bellowed. "METHOS!"
"Alright, now, I've lost my patience." the one Methos called Sammy said and was up in a blink taking Mac down with moves that impressed Joe. The kid was good. "You shout Pops name one more time and I'll take your goddamn head. No one risks my family's lives and that's what you're fucking doing acting like an idiot."
"Save some for me, Sammy," Dean had pulled away from Methos and was now standing over the taller kid and Mac.
"Let the Highland Infant get it out of his system, boys." Methos sighed and picked up his beer.
Reluctantly the two backed off, Dean helped Sam up while they both glared at Mac then turned their backs on him to go back to the bar.
"Methos, what have ye done to these poor boys?"
"Another beer, Joe. This might take a bit, and you two are mopping up any mess you make."
There was no mess. A pair of kicks in, from what Joe could see, perfect unison, as if the two had fought together, trained together from birth. One motorcycle boot and one hiking boot made connection with Mac's jaw at the same time, shattering it and snapping his neck.
"That's going to take a good half hour to recover from." Methos raised an eyebrow. "You two are out of practice, your moves are out of sync."
Joe blinked. They were? "Alright, Old Man, just what the hell is going on?"
Methos smirked. "Dean Jacobs, Cincinatti, 1965, only one recorded head-- Antonio Santiago."
"And--"
"I need another beer."
Joe snorted. He got the old man his beer and then went to his laptop and began pulling up the Watcher Database.
Dean Jacobs had disappeared three days after Santiago. One grainy picture that only showed the back of the head of a tall rangy man stoop shoulders with a blonde little girl held in his arm and his other arm around a dark haired woman. Jacobs had married a woman named Jean Hollister in early 56, 5 months later had a daughter. Mary.
Joe repeated that information to Methos. "Accurate."
"You were Dean Jacobs."
"Lawrence Kansas. House fire fatality November 1982."
Joe went searching. "Mary Winchester,"
"Read the obit, Joseph."
"Mary E. Winchester, 26, survived by her husband John, her two sons Dean, 4, and Samuel, 5 months," Joe looked up at Methos. Methos nodded. Joe read on. "She was preceded in death by her parents Dean and Jane Jacobs."
"I lost track of the boys after I met Mac. Ran into them a little more than a month ago. Circumstances what they were--a hunter threatening them and wanting my head to send to Mac for a present--they got the full story."
"Old Man?"
"Their weapons and their fighting skill is all to their father's credit."
"Four heads in South Bend. Taken within seconds of each other by an Unknown Immie, male approximately six one to six foot three. Causcasion with two other caucasions who did not participate in the fight--male caucasion one about five ten to six foot. the other six foot two to six four. All dark haired, wearing dark clothing, heavily armed none clearly photographed."
"Very good, Joseph" Methos smiled.
"You took them with you?"
"If I had them in my sight then I knew they weren't kidnapped by yet another accomplice. They were armed. And both of them are more than a match for almost anyone with a good number of weapons and hand to hand combat."
"He even bought us bullet proof vests before we went," Dean rolled his eyes.
"It was stupid you didn't have any."
"Your average Wendigo or hellhound usually doesn't shoot bullets," Dean snorted.
"Wendigo? Hellhound?" Joe gaped.
"Circumstances what they were. The boys were raised as hunters themselves, I told them who I was."
Joe gaped. "You're talking fairy tales."
The two young men had identical "Whatever" expressions on their faces as they shrugged.
"One word, Joseph--Arihmon."
"Cassandra?" Joe asked.
"Might be able to help them, us. Something killed Mary, and it came back and killed Sam's girlfriend Jessica."
"Something"
"Yes, Joe, something. And Cassandra is the most experienced with the supernatural that I know. She also might see something around the boys that could help. Mac's island is to do that safely. Because the boys have protections on them that keep her from seeing anything about them until the protections are lowered."
Joe blinked, shook his head and helped himself to a beer. "You know I expect crazy quests from Mac, not you." Though, with a little more thought Joe realized despite his protests and provoking attitude, Methos had been pivotal in a good number of Mac's "quests". There was also the search for the Methuselah stone for Alexa, and Methos had been the one to deal with Mac's Dark Quickening. Maybe it wasn't so crazy. The Ancient was guarded let few close, but those he did he'd risk even his own survival for.
Methos shrugged and took a drink of his beer.
Joe looked from Methos, to Dean and back again, then shook his head. "I'm not even gonna ask."
"Simple math." Sam spoke up dryly. "Two contrary smart asses plus one fit-throwing high and mighty type."
Joe burst out laughing. Methos did have a way of throwing just enough out to provoke Mac to no end.
"So you going to tie Dean Jacobs to Adam Pierson?"
Methos sighed. "If the boys can be my Watchers while I travel with them. They could use a steady paycheck."
Joe laughed again. "You know that's going to go over like a lead balloon."
Methos shrugged.
"I'll see what I can do, just to see how badly it blows Adley's little brain."
~*~*~
Duncan slowly sat up. He looked at the two young men, still on barstools on either side of Methos. "That hurt," he accused.
"So?" one snorted.
"Mac, I'd like you to meet my grandsons. Dean and Sam Winchester."
Duncan gaped.
The one named Dean snickered. "Think we broke his brain."
"One of these days...I don't even know why I bother being surprised at half the crap you say and pull." Sam shook his head.
Dean gave a cheshire grin. "You know you love me, Sammy,"
"Oh God, what are you going to pull now?" Sam groaned. "Can I have another shot?"
"Your grandsons," Duncan could only gape.
"Why is that so weird? I mean I get the whole moving on and disappearing and all. But we're not exactly normal anyway. And surely some families have to stick together. A couple you've heard of?"
"Connor's daughter Rachel. You met her."
"We did?"
"Elderly lady with the German accent. Connor adopted her after he rescued her from a concentration camp when she was 8. She's been rather confused the last year or so since she had her stroke."
"God that would suck" Dean muttered. "Watching your kid like that."
"Good, then don't make me watch you two little idiots take stupid risks." Methos snapped.
Claim: Highlander: General Series
Fandom: Highlander/Supernatural
Characters/Pairing: Methos, Sam, Dean, Joe, Mac
Prompt: #60 drink
Word Count: 2005
Rating: 15
Author's Notes: written for crossovers100 master list is here 15/100 complete.
7th in the Mortal Ties Arc: I. Jane and Mary ~~ II. Weird, Even For This Family ~~III.Methos' Children ~~ IV.Dreams~~ V. Elvis, the Purple Gorilla ~~VI.Blood and Fire
"Its about damned time!" Joe called out as Methos walked into the bar with the two young men his watcher had managed to get all of one picture of--and a bad picture at that. The only reason Methos' watcher had gotten close was that Joe had told him the old man was headed to New York for a visit with Connor. "What the hell is going on with you?"
"Three beers, Joe, put them on my tab."
Joe huffed and shook his head. "Mac's about spitting nails."
Methos smirked.
"They better not drink as much as you do. Your tab is already the budget of a third world country." Joe grumbled.
"Hey, if--"
"Don't even bloody start," Methos cut off the shorter of the two young men.
"You going to introduce us?" the taller asked.
"Joe, this is Dean and this is Sammy"
"It's Sam," came the grumble complete with rolled eyes.
"Boys, that's Nanny Joe. He's Duncan's Watcher."
Joe raised an eyebrow as he sat the beers on the table.
"They know. All of it, including my name." Methos said simply.
Joe's eyebrow went higher. "How?"
"I told them"
"You told them? You? You actually told them?"
The Old Man picked up his beer with a smirk and took a drink.
Joe shook his head. "Fine. You'll explain eventually."
"He's always a smirking asshole then, it's not just us." the taller kid, Sam half stated, half asked.
"Pretty much," Joe grinned. His grin widened as he watched the look pass over Methos face. "Now things get interesting." he said as Mac entered the bar. He was glad that there was no one but these four at the moment. "Mac, lock the door." he called out. Business was always slow this time of day, and whatever the Old Man was up to was of far bigger interest than the couple bucks that might be made off the odd customer at three in the afternoon.
"What are you up to, Me-Adam!?" Mac demanded stalking over after he had closed up the front door.
Joe watched the two kids with Methos slip from harmless college age kids to a pair of dangerous men. If looks could kill, Mac would be recovering from a death due to the glares leveled on him over the near-slip of the Old Man's name.
"Having a beer, Mac,"
"You know what I mean, Methos!"
The danger level just went up a notch. Joe tensed waiting for something to happen.
"Can I shoot him?" the shorter asked with a gun that seemed to materialize out of thin air. "He had no fucking clue we knew your name. I don't like that."
"You can't shoot everything that annoys you, Dean" the other said tiredly, as if this was something he'd explained a thousand times to a very slow child.
"Why not? Not like he wouldn't recover. Even make sure it's a gut shot that doesn't hit anything too vital. The healing sparky things would have him fixed up in--ten minutes tops."
"It's impolite to splatter blood and guts all over Joe's nice clean bar, he has to reopen for business when this is over."
Joe shook his head, torn between worry and wanting to laugh as the Oldest Immortal merely smirked at a spluttering Mac. What the hell had the old man gotten into this time?
"You had me call Cassandra--"
"Yes, and I saw Cassandra in New York. They did as well. I'm sure you had Connor's phone ringing off the hook until he gave you a full report."
"Connor didn't hear anything you said to her, or that they said to her. And when I called her she wouldn't say anything either other than you need my island."
"Exactly what is with the him going all jealous boyfriend over your bony ass?" Dean demanded.
"Now, sweetheart, no need for you to get jealous."
Sam groaned.
MacLeod began spluttering, wide eyed and red face.
Sam groaned a second time when Methos smirked. "I need another one of these." He held up his bottle and guzzled over half of it. "Them two are two of a kind. One as bad as the other."
Joe grabbed the kid a beer and then suddenly. "How old are you."
"Just turned 23, he's 26, almost 27. We're old enough." Sam answered.
Joe nodded and handed over the beer. There was a weariness to the kid that certainly seemed old enough. Methos and the shorter kid-- Dean? Joe decided that he was more surprised that Methos would say so to Mac than Methos would get involved with a man.
"METHOS!!!" Duncan roared. "How--ye canna--he's--"
"Oh shit," Sam whispered.
Methos grabbed Dean who was making a move to get off his barstool. "Now, love," Methos said in such a smarmy tone Joe nearly snorted.
Joe caught the downright evil glint in the young man's eye as he fell into Methos' tug, which Joe was pretty sure was to keep Mac from getting hit. The kid leaned into Methos and laid one hell of a kiss on him, the Old Man stiffened a second and went with it.
Joe choked as he saw Mac's gaping expression.
"You know, I could have happily lived my whole life without seeing that. If my childhood hadn't done the trick, this just left me scarred for life."
"Aw Sammy," Dean smirked over Methos' shoulder "We'll kiss you too."
Joe chuckled as the kid thunked his head on the bar.
"You two are impossible." the kid grumbled then asked Joe "Can I get a shot? Cherry Vodka? Watching your big brother and your grandfather make out takes a bit more than beer."
"WHAT" Mac bellowed. "METHOS!"
"Alright, now, I've lost my patience." the one Methos called Sammy said and was up in a blink taking Mac down with moves that impressed Joe. The kid was good. "You shout Pops name one more time and I'll take your goddamn head. No one risks my family's lives and that's what you're fucking doing acting like an idiot."
"Save some for me, Sammy," Dean had pulled away from Methos and was now standing over the taller kid and Mac.
"Let the Highland Infant get it out of his system, boys." Methos sighed and picked up his beer.
Reluctantly the two backed off, Dean helped Sam up while they both glared at Mac then turned their backs on him to go back to the bar.
"Methos, what have ye done to these poor boys?"
"Another beer, Joe. This might take a bit, and you two are mopping up any mess you make."
There was no mess. A pair of kicks in, from what Joe could see, perfect unison, as if the two had fought together, trained together from birth. One motorcycle boot and one hiking boot made connection with Mac's jaw at the same time, shattering it and snapping his neck.
"That's going to take a good half hour to recover from." Methos raised an eyebrow. "You two are out of practice, your moves are out of sync."
Joe blinked. They were? "Alright, Old Man, just what the hell is going on?"
Methos smirked. "Dean Jacobs, Cincinatti, 1965, only one recorded head-- Antonio Santiago."
"And--"
"I need another beer."
Joe snorted. He got the old man his beer and then went to his laptop and began pulling up the Watcher Database.
Dean Jacobs had disappeared three days after Santiago. One grainy picture that only showed the back of the head of a tall rangy man stoop shoulders with a blonde little girl held in his arm and his other arm around a dark haired woman. Jacobs had married a woman named Jean Hollister in early 56, 5 months later had a daughter. Mary.
Joe repeated that information to Methos. "Accurate."
"You were Dean Jacobs."
"Lawrence Kansas. House fire fatality November 1982."
Joe went searching. "Mary Winchester,"
"Read the obit, Joseph."
"Mary E. Winchester, 26, survived by her husband John, her two sons Dean, 4, and Samuel, 5 months," Joe looked up at Methos. Methos nodded. Joe read on. "She was preceded in death by her parents Dean and Jane Jacobs."
"I lost track of the boys after I met Mac. Ran into them a little more than a month ago. Circumstances what they were--a hunter threatening them and wanting my head to send to Mac for a present--they got the full story."
"Old Man?"
"Their weapons and their fighting skill is all to their father's credit."
"Four heads in South Bend. Taken within seconds of each other by an Unknown Immie, male approximately six one to six foot three. Causcasion with two other caucasions who did not participate in the fight--male caucasion one about five ten to six foot. the other six foot two to six four. All dark haired, wearing dark clothing, heavily armed none clearly photographed."
"Very good, Joseph" Methos smiled.
"You took them with you?"
"If I had them in my sight then I knew they weren't kidnapped by yet another accomplice. They were armed. And both of them are more than a match for almost anyone with a good number of weapons and hand to hand combat."
"He even bought us bullet proof vests before we went," Dean rolled his eyes.
"It was stupid you didn't have any."
"Your average Wendigo or hellhound usually doesn't shoot bullets," Dean snorted.
"Wendigo? Hellhound?" Joe gaped.
"Circumstances what they were. The boys were raised as hunters themselves, I told them who I was."
Joe gaped. "You're talking fairy tales."
The two young men had identical "Whatever" expressions on their faces as they shrugged.
"One word, Joseph--Arihmon."
"Cassandra?" Joe asked.
"Might be able to help them, us. Something killed Mary, and it came back and killed Sam's girlfriend Jessica."
"Something"
"Yes, Joe, something. And Cassandra is the most experienced with the supernatural that I know. She also might see something around the boys that could help. Mac's island is to do that safely. Because the boys have protections on them that keep her from seeing anything about them until the protections are lowered."
Joe blinked, shook his head and helped himself to a beer. "You know I expect crazy quests from Mac, not you." Though, with a little more thought Joe realized despite his protests and provoking attitude, Methos had been pivotal in a good number of Mac's "quests". There was also the search for the Methuselah stone for Alexa, and Methos had been the one to deal with Mac's Dark Quickening. Maybe it wasn't so crazy. The Ancient was guarded let few close, but those he did he'd risk even his own survival for.
Methos shrugged and took a drink of his beer.
Joe looked from Methos, to Dean and back again, then shook his head. "I'm not even gonna ask."
"Simple math." Sam spoke up dryly. "Two contrary smart asses plus one fit-throwing high and mighty type."
Joe burst out laughing. Methos did have a way of throwing just enough out to provoke Mac to no end.
"So you going to tie Dean Jacobs to Adam Pierson?"
Methos sighed. "If the boys can be my Watchers while I travel with them. They could use a steady paycheck."
Joe laughed again. "You know that's going to go over like a lead balloon."
Methos shrugged.
"I'll see what I can do, just to see how badly it blows Adley's little brain."
~*~*~
Duncan slowly sat up. He looked at the two young men, still on barstools on either side of Methos. "That hurt," he accused.
"So?" one snorted.
"Mac, I'd like you to meet my grandsons. Dean and Sam Winchester."
Duncan gaped.
The one named Dean snickered. "Think we broke his brain."
"One of these days...I don't even know why I bother being surprised at half the crap you say and pull." Sam shook his head.
Dean gave a cheshire grin. "You know you love me, Sammy,"
"Oh God, what are you going to pull now?" Sam groaned. "Can I have another shot?"
"Your grandsons," Duncan could only gape.
"Why is that so weird? I mean I get the whole moving on and disappearing and all. But we're not exactly normal anyway. And surely some families have to stick together. A couple you've heard of?"
"Connor's daughter Rachel. You met her."
"We did?"
"Elderly lady with the German accent. Connor adopted her after he rescued her from a concentration camp when she was 8. She's been rather confused the last year or so since she had her stroke."
"God that would suck" Dean muttered. "Watching your kid like that."
"Good, then don't make me watch you two little idiots take stupid risks." Methos snapped.