The Mystery We Are. TW/HL Xover 23/? [PG-13] *WIP*
~*~
Jack led them to the same pub that Methos had visited with Siannon the previous night. He supposed that there was something about its older-fashioned ambience that appealed to people who had been around for a while. Plus it was possible to talk in there without having to shout. Methos felt himself unwind a little more as they found a seat in the corner, not the same one as yesterday he was glad to see. He carefully removed his coat and laid it along the ledge behind his seat. Jack kept his on. Methos held out his hand.
“Give me the coat. I’m not going to let you escape now I’ve got you this far. I’ll even buy your drinks. Talking of which, what do you want?”
“Just water.”
“God, you’re a cheap date aren’t you? The coat, please?” Jack eventually removed his greatcoat and tentatively handed it to Methos, who put it with his own. “There, now isn’t that better. Are you sure you just want water? The beer’s good here...”
“Water is fine, gotta keep myself hydrated you know.” Jack said with a smile. Methos shrugged.
“Your loss. Be right back.” After buying their drinks he half expected to get back to the table and find that Jack had gone, and was gratified to find he was still there, more so than he’d expected. He plunked himself down in the seat opposite and passed Jack his drink, before taking a long pull of his own pint and sighing appreciatively.
“You sure like your beer.” Jack commented. Methos raised his glass.
“Oldest alcoholic drink in the world.” He said with a grin. “I’ve had lots of practice.” Jack chuckled slightly, and took a sip of his water.
“I bet you have. So is that the secret of a long and happy life?”
“Beer and good company? Sounds as good as anything else I’ve heard suggested, and a damn sight more pleasant than some. You should try it.”
“I’ve got the good company bit. Maybe I’ll work my way up to the beer part sometime.”
“If I stick around, you may find that happening sooner rather than later. I can be very persuasive, you know.”
“Oh, really?” Jack’s expression implied volumes, but it didn’t work on Methos who kept a completely straight, and innocent looking face.
“What can I say? I’ve had lots of practice...”
“Is that your stock answer?”
“Possibly, you’ll just have to wait and find out.” The laughter just bubble d out of Jack, he was surprised at how good it felt, and realised that Methos had probably had a point when he dragged him out of the hub. He so very rarely let go now, and gave himself time to *be* just himself without the shadow of Torchwood and responsibility hanging over him; his choice, but even so it felt liberating to shut that side of himself away for a while and forget about responsibility completely; something he found easier to do than he’d expected and all due to the man sitting opposite him.
“Did I ever tell you I’m not very good at waiting for things to happen? I like to take a more proactive approach.”
“Tough. Maybe you need some practice... I knew a guy like you once, and even he managed to get used to the idea that I won’t be hurried into revealing things before I’m ready. Took him about 200 years though.”
“I’ll bear that in mind. And what the hell was he so desperate to find out?”
“Ah, now that’s a long story...”
“I’m not doing anything else right now.”
“In that case...” Methos launched into the tale with mischievous glee; reminding Jack at times of a person he’d known back in his Time Agency days. He then felt obliged to share a few stories of his own. They traded back and forth, each story becoming progressively more outrageous than the last until they were both almost weeping with laughter, and getting some decidedly odd looks from the bar staff into the bargain.
“Enough!” Jack said after Methos’s last effort had him trying to decide between holding onto his ribs, which were aching, or clutching the table in an effort not to fall off his chair. “I need some time out.” He disappeared to find the bathroom, while Methos replenished their drinks feeling rather pleased with his effort at diversionary therapy.
Jack’s mood had changed somewhat by the time he rejoined Methos, the laughter and smiles now replaced by a more pensive expression.
“Uh-oh,” commented Methos, “That looks like an ‘I’ve been thinking’ face.”
“Yeah, well. You’d be right there.”
“And?”
“If beer and good company aren’t the secret to a long and happy life, then what is?”
There was more to Jack’s question than the light-hearted tone implied, and Methos breathed a sigh of relief. It was going to be lot easier thank he’d thought to give Jack the answers to the questions he probably hadn’t thought about except in the darkest corners of his heart. Siannon had known they were there, but hadn’t been able to do a lot about it. Everyone had a dark side to their nature but hers was an introspective darkness that tended to self destruction, and he suspected that Jack was more like him. He said nothing, but watched Jack drawing circles in the moisture on the table as he spoke.
“How do you get to live through 5000 years and still end up a normal guy, enjoying life? How the hell do you get past wanting to destroy the things you can’t have, like life and love and hope? How do you face eternity and not go insane?” Methos gently placed his hand over Jack’s where it lay on the table, clenched.
“The truth?” He asked softly. Jack nodded tightly. “You learn how to take life one step at a time. One day at a time. Not to look too far ahead and not to think about losses, but only what can be gained. But most importantly, never ever forgetting where you have been and who you are; good and bad, black and white. Without contrast, there is nothing. Remember that.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“It’s not easy. Nothing worth doing properly is ever easy. It’ll probably the hardest thing you’ll ever do in your life, but it will make the difference between living and merely surviving, between being alive and just existing. And that’s the real reason why you work yourself into the ground isn’t it? While you’re needed, it’s proof your life means something.” The taut expression on Jack’s face eased a little, he shook his head to clear it, then met Methos’s eyes with a wry smile.
“You see too much.”
“Maybe I just look more deeply than other people.”
“Maybe. Haven’t you ever wanted an ordinary life? Wife, kids, a normal job?”
“I’ve had all that. Just because you’re going to live a long time doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the same things as everyone else. Of course in my case the kids have to be adopted, but I’ve been married more than once.” Jack’s interest was piqued again, distracting him from his not-so-pleasant thoughts.
“How many times is ‘more than once’? You’ve got me curious now.” Methos mentally counted.
“68.”
“That’s a lot of wives. Mortal or immortal?”
“They were all mortal. Marrying an immortal is way too much of a commitment, thank you; though I did have fixed-term contract under Brehon Law with an immortal once. Not sure if you’d count that as a marriage, though, as we never said any of that ‘til death us do part’ stuff.”
“Is she still alive?”
“Oh she’s alive all right. She’s the crazy one who likes flying dinosaurs.”
“Siannon? You were married to Siannon? Dear God...” he started laughing again, a sudden easing of the tension that had taken over. “It’s obvious you knew each other pretty well, but I would never have guessed on you guys being married. How on earth did you manage to stop killing each other?”
“That was the beauty of the Brehon Law; once your contract was up you could both walk away, no questions asked and if one of you had broken the terms of the contract then the other was no longer bound by it. When you’re immortal, 27 years isn’t so bad, though I have to admit we didn’t see each other for nearly a century after that. I’ve stuck to mortals since. I love them, they leave me. It hurts like hell when they die, and you never ever have long enough together, but at least you have had the joy of sharing their lives.” Methos took a deep breath, before a wicked grin stole over his face again. “Plus there’s a bonus...they aren’t around 500 years later to nag you about your bad habits. I’m sure she does it just to annoy me.”
“Knowing Siannon, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Any further conversation was interrupted by the barman calling last orders. Jack checked his watch in disbelief. “I can’t believe it’s that time already. I need to get back. Early start tomorrow.”
“I thought you weren’t going to do any more work tonight.”
“I’m not. I live there.”
“You live in the Hub?”
“Under it, actually. There’re a couple of rooms below my office and seeing as I was hardly ever away from the place anyway, I thought I might as well make use of them. It’s quite comfortable, actually, if a little on the small side.”
“Rather you than me. I like my space; somehow I never feel comfortable unless I’ve got the room to swing a good sized cat.”
“You wouldn’t like it one bit then.” Jack started to haul his coat out from where Methos had stashed it. Methos quickly finished his beer and grabbed his own.
“I might as well walk back with you; it’s on the way to my place.”
“I’d like that.” They left the pub together, a fine rain causing water droplets to bead coats and hair without soaking them as they crossed the Plass; close enough to touch but not, as if by unspoken agreement. They parted at the water tower with no goodbye except the quick brush of fingertips and a wordless promise; for what, neither was entirely sure, but they both knew it was there.
Jack led them to the same pub that Methos had visited with Siannon the previous night. He supposed that there was something about its older-fashioned ambience that appealed to people who had been around for a while. Plus it was possible to talk in there without having to shout. Methos felt himself unwind a little more as they found a seat in the corner, not the same one as yesterday he was glad to see. He carefully removed his coat and laid it along the ledge behind his seat. Jack kept his on. Methos held out his hand.
“Give me the coat. I’m not going to let you escape now I’ve got you this far. I’ll even buy your drinks. Talking of which, what do you want?”
“Just water.”
“God, you’re a cheap date aren’t you? The coat, please?” Jack eventually removed his greatcoat and tentatively handed it to Methos, who put it with his own. “There, now isn’t that better. Are you sure you just want water? The beer’s good here...”
“Water is fine, gotta keep myself hydrated you know.” Jack said with a smile. Methos shrugged.
“Your loss. Be right back.” After buying their drinks he half expected to get back to the table and find that Jack had gone, and was gratified to find he was still there, more so than he’d expected. He plunked himself down in the seat opposite and passed Jack his drink, before taking a long pull of his own pint and sighing appreciatively.
“You sure like your beer.” Jack commented. Methos raised his glass.
“Oldest alcoholic drink in the world.” He said with a grin. “I’ve had lots of practice.” Jack chuckled slightly, and took a sip of his water.
“I bet you have. So is that the secret of a long and happy life?”
“Beer and good company? Sounds as good as anything else I’ve heard suggested, and a damn sight more pleasant than some. You should try it.”
“I’ve got the good company bit. Maybe I’ll work my way up to the beer part sometime.”
“If I stick around, you may find that happening sooner rather than later. I can be very persuasive, you know.”
“Oh, really?” Jack’s expression implied volumes, but it didn’t work on Methos who kept a completely straight, and innocent looking face.
“What can I say? I’ve had lots of practice...”
“Is that your stock answer?”
“Possibly, you’ll just have to wait and find out.” The laughter just bubble d out of Jack, he was surprised at how good it felt, and realised that Methos had probably had a point when he dragged him out of the hub. He so very rarely let go now, and gave himself time to *be* just himself without the shadow of Torchwood and responsibility hanging over him; his choice, but even so it felt liberating to shut that side of himself away for a while and forget about responsibility completely; something he found easier to do than he’d expected and all due to the man sitting opposite him.
“Did I ever tell you I’m not very good at waiting for things to happen? I like to take a more proactive approach.”
“Tough. Maybe you need some practice... I knew a guy like you once, and even he managed to get used to the idea that I won’t be hurried into revealing things before I’m ready. Took him about 200 years though.”
“I’ll bear that in mind. And what the hell was he so desperate to find out?”
“Ah, now that’s a long story...”
“I’m not doing anything else right now.”
“In that case...” Methos launched into the tale with mischievous glee; reminding Jack at times of a person he’d known back in his Time Agency days. He then felt obliged to share a few stories of his own. They traded back and forth, each story becoming progressively more outrageous than the last until they were both almost weeping with laughter, and getting some decidedly odd looks from the bar staff into the bargain.
“Enough!” Jack said after Methos’s last effort had him trying to decide between holding onto his ribs, which were aching, or clutching the table in an effort not to fall off his chair. “I need some time out.” He disappeared to find the bathroom, while Methos replenished their drinks feeling rather pleased with his effort at diversionary therapy.
Jack’s mood had changed somewhat by the time he rejoined Methos, the laughter and smiles now replaced by a more pensive expression.
“Uh-oh,” commented Methos, “That looks like an ‘I’ve been thinking’ face.”
“Yeah, well. You’d be right there.”
“And?”
“If beer and good company aren’t the secret to a long and happy life, then what is?”
There was more to Jack’s question than the light-hearted tone implied, and Methos breathed a sigh of relief. It was going to be lot easier thank he’d thought to give Jack the answers to the questions he probably hadn’t thought about except in the darkest corners of his heart. Siannon had known they were there, but hadn’t been able to do a lot about it. Everyone had a dark side to their nature but hers was an introspective darkness that tended to self destruction, and he suspected that Jack was more like him. He said nothing, but watched Jack drawing circles in the moisture on the table as he spoke.
“How do you get to live through 5000 years and still end up a normal guy, enjoying life? How the hell do you get past wanting to destroy the things you can’t have, like life and love and hope? How do you face eternity and not go insane?” Methos gently placed his hand over Jack’s where it lay on the table, clenched.
“The truth?” He asked softly. Jack nodded tightly. “You learn how to take life one step at a time. One day at a time. Not to look too far ahead and not to think about losses, but only what can be gained. But most importantly, never ever forgetting where you have been and who you are; good and bad, black and white. Without contrast, there is nothing. Remember that.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“It’s not easy. Nothing worth doing properly is ever easy. It’ll probably the hardest thing you’ll ever do in your life, but it will make the difference between living and merely surviving, between being alive and just existing. And that’s the real reason why you work yourself into the ground isn’t it? While you’re needed, it’s proof your life means something.” The taut expression on Jack’s face eased a little, he shook his head to clear it, then met Methos’s eyes with a wry smile.
“You see too much.”
“Maybe I just look more deeply than other people.”
“Maybe. Haven’t you ever wanted an ordinary life? Wife, kids, a normal job?”
“I’ve had all that. Just because you’re going to live a long time doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the same things as everyone else. Of course in my case the kids have to be adopted, but I’ve been married more than once.” Jack’s interest was piqued again, distracting him from his not-so-pleasant thoughts.
“How many times is ‘more than once’? You’ve got me curious now.” Methos mentally counted.
“68.”
“That’s a lot of wives. Mortal or immortal?”
“They were all mortal. Marrying an immortal is way too much of a commitment, thank you; though I did have fixed-term contract under Brehon Law with an immortal once. Not sure if you’d count that as a marriage, though, as we never said any of that ‘til death us do part’ stuff.”
“Is she still alive?”
“Oh she’s alive all right. She’s the crazy one who likes flying dinosaurs.”
“Siannon? You were married to Siannon? Dear God...” he started laughing again, a sudden easing of the tension that had taken over. “It’s obvious you knew each other pretty well, but I would never have guessed on you guys being married. How on earth did you manage to stop killing each other?”
“That was the beauty of the Brehon Law; once your contract was up you could both walk away, no questions asked and if one of you had broken the terms of the contract then the other was no longer bound by it. When you’re immortal, 27 years isn’t so bad, though I have to admit we didn’t see each other for nearly a century after that. I’ve stuck to mortals since. I love them, they leave me. It hurts like hell when they die, and you never ever have long enough together, but at least you have had the joy of sharing their lives.” Methos took a deep breath, before a wicked grin stole over his face again. “Plus there’s a bonus...they aren’t around 500 years later to nag you about your bad habits. I’m sure she does it just to annoy me.”
“Knowing Siannon, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Any further conversation was interrupted by the barman calling last orders. Jack checked his watch in disbelief. “I can’t believe it’s that time already. I need to get back. Early start tomorrow.”
“I thought you weren’t going to do any more work tonight.”
“I’m not. I live there.”
“You live in the Hub?”
“Under it, actually. There’re a couple of rooms below my office and seeing as I was hardly ever away from the place anyway, I thought I might as well make use of them. It’s quite comfortable, actually, if a little on the small side.”
“Rather you than me. I like my space; somehow I never feel comfortable unless I’ve got the room to swing a good sized cat.”
“You wouldn’t like it one bit then.” Jack started to haul his coat out from where Methos had stashed it. Methos quickly finished his beer and grabbed his own.
“I might as well walk back with you; it’s on the way to my place.”
“I’d like that.” They left the pub together, a fine rain causing water droplets to bead coats and hair without soaking them as they crossed the Plass; close enough to touch but not, as if by unspoken agreement. They parted at the water tower with no goodbye except the quick brush of fingertips and a wordless promise; for what, neither was entirely sure, but they both knew it was there.