Fic: A Necessary Risk? 1/1 Dresden files/Highlander [G]
Title: A Necessary Risk?
Author: A Lanart
Fandom: Dresden Files/Highlander
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None.
Characters/pairings: Methos, Ancient Mai
Disclaimer: Jim Butcher owns the Dresden Files, Davis/Panzer own Highlander. Characters and concepts used without permission and not for profit.
word count = 525 - originally written as comment fic on Dreamwidth
A/N: This happened thanks to 'Ficathon Walks into a Bar' and idontlikegravy. This is not my official assignment - that has yet to be written!
~*~
Though not one for taking excessive risks or living dangerously, Methos had found himself intrigued by the note that requested a meeting in a downtown bar especially as it utilised a language that had been essentially dead in common usage for hundreds of years. Moreover, although the note had been couched in formal language it was used in such a way that indicated the person was no stranger to using it informally too. Though the note was unsigned, Methos was certain he knew - or had known - the writer but that didn’t mean he was going to take unnecessary risks when he turned up for the meeting; a long coat could hide a multitude of things after all, not all of them pleasant.
Methos found the bar surprisingly deserted as he walked through the door. A lone drink was standing in proud isolation on the polished surface in front of one of the stools and Methos approached curiously, taking a cautious sniff of the murky substance in the glass. A smile broke over his face - this was beer like he hadn't tasted in too many years!
"I thought you might appreciate that," a low voice commented from the shadows. Methos whirled, keeping his hand away from his sword hilt with some effort; even though he recognised the voice, he didn't trust its owner.
"Mai!"
"That's 'Ancient Mai' to you."
Methos shrugged and gave her a smile, ignoring the formality of the title. Since when did magical titles mean anything to him? In fact since when did any title mean anything to him? Even Mai couldn't remember that far back and Methos tried his best *not* to remember.
"Well, it has been a while. Thanks for the drink, now what do you want?" Methos knew too much about the magical community to think that a 'gift' from Mai came without a convoluted demand behind it. Mai's laugh surprised him.
"What if I said this was merely a drink between old friends?"
"I wouldn't believe you," Methos replied honestly.
"Since when did you get so suspicious?"
"I’ve always been suspicious, but have you thought that having one of *your* watchers threaten me with a sword might have contributed?"
"Ah. He didn't do it again."
"That's because it's difficult to threaten people when you're trying to avoid bleeding to death," Methos said pleasantly, quite aware that the smile on his face was not pleasant in the slightest.
"True,” Mai agreed with a nod. "Water under the bridge?"
"If you insist."
Mai approached the bar with her own glass of murky looking beer. They raised their glasses to each other in a toast and Methos took an appreciative sip. He sighed in contentment; this was beer as he remembered it from centuries ago. Mai cleared her throat.
"I heard that you've crossed the path of one Harry Dresden," she said. Methos grinned into his glass, he *knew* that Mai would need an ulterior motive to sit at a bar in peace with him. Luckily for her, he and Harry had already worked out exactly what to tell her in this situation and Methos wished her well of the telling...
Author: A Lanart
Fandom: Dresden Files/Highlander
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None.
Characters/pairings: Methos, Ancient Mai
Disclaimer: Jim Butcher owns the Dresden Files, Davis/Panzer own Highlander. Characters and concepts used without permission and not for profit.
word count = 525 - originally written as comment fic on Dreamwidth
A/N: This happened thanks to 'Ficathon Walks into a Bar' and idontlikegravy. This is not my official assignment - that has yet to be written!
~*~
Though not one for taking excessive risks or living dangerously, Methos had found himself intrigued by the note that requested a meeting in a downtown bar especially as it utilised a language that had been essentially dead in common usage for hundreds of years. Moreover, although the note had been couched in formal language it was used in such a way that indicated the person was no stranger to using it informally too. Though the note was unsigned, Methos was certain he knew - or had known - the writer but that didn’t mean he was going to take unnecessary risks when he turned up for the meeting; a long coat could hide a multitude of things after all, not all of them pleasant.
Methos found the bar surprisingly deserted as he walked through the door. A lone drink was standing in proud isolation on the polished surface in front of one of the stools and Methos approached curiously, taking a cautious sniff of the murky substance in the glass. A smile broke over his face - this was beer like he hadn't tasted in too many years!
"I thought you might appreciate that," a low voice commented from the shadows. Methos whirled, keeping his hand away from his sword hilt with some effort; even though he recognised the voice, he didn't trust its owner.
"Mai!"
"That's 'Ancient Mai' to you."
Methos shrugged and gave her a smile, ignoring the formality of the title. Since when did magical titles mean anything to him? In fact since when did any title mean anything to him? Even Mai couldn't remember that far back and Methos tried his best *not* to remember.
"Well, it has been a while. Thanks for the drink, now what do you want?" Methos knew too much about the magical community to think that a 'gift' from Mai came without a convoluted demand behind it. Mai's laugh surprised him.
"What if I said this was merely a drink between old friends?"
"I wouldn't believe you," Methos replied honestly.
"Since when did you get so suspicious?"
"I’ve always been suspicious, but have you thought that having one of *your* watchers threaten me with a sword might have contributed?"
"Ah. He didn't do it again."
"That's because it's difficult to threaten people when you're trying to avoid bleeding to death," Methos said pleasantly, quite aware that the smile on his face was not pleasant in the slightest.
"True,” Mai agreed with a nod. "Water under the bridge?"
"If you insist."
Mai approached the bar with her own glass of murky looking beer. They raised their glasses to each other in a toast and Methos took an appreciative sip. He sighed in contentment; this was beer as he remembered it from centuries ago. Mai cleared her throat.
"I heard that you've crossed the path of one Harry Dresden," she said. Methos grinned into his glass, he *knew* that Mai would need an ulterior motive to sit at a bar in peace with him. Luckily for her, he and Harry had already worked out exactly what to tell her in this situation and Methos wished her well of the telling...