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He didn't know when it became a thing. It just did but now Joe looked forward to when Methos was in town and when the end of the night came and he could close the bar. Tonight was no exception, even though he'd been soundly beaten the last few nights he was not about to give up. He knew every once in a while he could beat the immortal. And he was hoping tonight would be that night.
Locking the door, and giving the bar a final wipe down, Joe headed for his office where he knew Methos waited along with a glass of Bruichladdich Port Charlotte #6 he was very glad that he had friends with very deep pockets who knew what he liked in a scotch. Walking in he saw the chess set already out and his drink already poured.
"Ready?" Methos asked as he made his way to the chair and sat down, hanging his cane on the edge of the table.
Picking up his glass, he sniffed then took a small sip. "Ready."