A Winning Bet (Highlander, drabble)
Title: A Winning Bet
By: aishuu
Series: Highlander
Character/Pairing: Methos, MacLeod
Rating: T/PG-13
Spoilers: None
Wordcount:200
Notes: candy__chan did nothing to stop me writing this, so I'm "crediting" her. For 31_days, Day/Theme: September 4 - would it help you if I died tonight?
Summary: The Watchers have a betting pool.
The wager is obscene, but then nearly all of the Watchers' internal betting pools are. Being around immortality breeds a certain gallows humor.
MacLeod was much better off before he knew about them, because now Methos was in the habit of trying to rig the results.
“An anvil,” MacLeod says without amusement.
“A la Wile E. Coyote,” Methos replies. “You'll barely notice.”
MacLeod wishes his glare speaks for itself, but Methos has long been immune to any hostile glances. “I'll notice having my head smashed flatter than a pancake.”
Methos made a “pft” sound, waving off Mac's comment with a casual hand. “Half the spoils of the biggest Watcher jackpot ever.”
“I'm already rich.”
“They're richer,” Methos replies. “And it's not like it will do any permanent damage.”
“No.”
“Is that a firm no, or one that can be negotiated?”
“Methos...” Mac's growl was cut off abruptly by the sound of an umbrella opening. He's dead before he even has a chance to turn his head.
“I always wanted to try one of these,” Amanda declares gleefully as she closes the booby-trapped umbrella.
Methos gives her a thumbs up and starts thinking of the next long odds he'll take. In a couple of months, MacLeod might be up for some skydiving.
By: aishuu
Series: Highlander
Character/Pairing: Methos, MacLeod
Rating: T/PG-13
Spoilers: None
Wordcount:200
Notes: candy__chan did nothing to stop me writing this, so I'm "crediting" her. For 31_days, Day/Theme: September 4 - would it help you if I died tonight?
Summary: The Watchers have a betting pool.
The wager is obscene, but then nearly all of the Watchers' internal betting pools are. Being around immortality breeds a certain gallows humor.
MacLeod was much better off before he knew about them, because now Methos was in the habit of trying to rig the results.
“An anvil,” MacLeod says without amusement.
“A la Wile E. Coyote,” Methos replies. “You'll barely notice.”
MacLeod wishes his glare speaks for itself, but Methos has long been immune to any hostile glances. “I'll notice having my head smashed flatter than a pancake.”
Methos made a “pft” sound, waving off Mac's comment with a casual hand. “Half the spoils of the biggest Watcher jackpot ever.”
“I'm already rich.”
“They're richer,” Methos replies. “And it's not like it will do any permanent damage.”
“No.”
“Is that a firm no, or one that can be negotiated?”
“Methos...” Mac's growl was cut off abruptly by the sound of an umbrella opening. He's dead before he even has a chance to turn his head.
“I always wanted to try one of these,” Amanda declares gleefully as she closes the booby-trapped umbrella.
Methos gives her a thumbs up and starts thinking of the next long odds he'll take. In a couple of months, MacLeod might be up for some skydiving.