Chapter Text
The Seacouver bus station was one of Adam Pierson’s least favourite places to be. It was noisy, chaotic, and frequently smelled of stale urine. He had very little reason on a good day to visit the station. But on this particular day, he found himself both unwilling and unable to leave. For as busy as it was, it was also very very public. And public places for an immortal had their benefits. Especially when being followed by another immortal who clearly intended to challenge him. He’d sensed him coming, and made his way to the most visible part of the bus station. It wasn’t holy ground, but it seemed to have the intended effect.
Adam Pierson, an immortal known only to a few close friends as Methos, had hoped the immortal that followed him would get tired of waiting for him and look for an easier challenge. But so far, that hadn't happened and didn't look too likely to. He had been hanging out in the bus station for about four hours now and the man who had followed him in hadn't budged from the exit in which he stood, waiting for Methos to give up and attempt to leave. They were at a standoff.
It wasn't as if Methos was a coward. He had no qualms about taking a head if there were no other option. No, Methos was a survivalist. He’d learned very early on that the best way to win a challenge was to avoid it entirely. The other immortal looked as if he would be fairly easy to defeat, but Methos was not the type to gamble.
Methos checked his watch and gave a small, taunting wave to the immortal watching him. It would be nightfall soon, and Methos' best chance of sneaking away unseen would be when the other immortal tired and fell asleep. Still, he had a ways to go and he needed to keep his energy up.
Sighing, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar he’d bought earlier. He took a bite and almost dropped it, when the familiar buzz of a fellow immortal hit him full force. It wasn’t the man who had been pursuing him. He knew that much by virtue of the other man’s distance away. And a glance over at the other immortal told him he’d noticed it too.
Great!
He thought angrily,
was there a convention or something I wasn't informed of?
Looking towards the source of the buzz, he saw it come from a bus that just pulled into the station. Whoever the third immortal was, they were on that bus. He noticed the man who had been following him watching the bus intently. Methos wondered if it would be possible to leave, and let the other two immortals fight it out. He made a move to go, and the other man moved too. No dice.
He looked back at the bus. Passengers were filing off of it now, and sure enough the offending party exited next. However, the sight of this particular immortal startled Methos slightly. It was a young girl, who looked to be no more than seventeen years of age. She wore a pair of baggy jeans and a sweater and her honey blonde hair was tucked behind her ears giving Methos a look at her young face. He found himself slightly taken aback by the pain he could see written over every inch of her expressive face.
She carried only a small bag with her, and there were no adults in sight leading Methos to guess that whatever had caused that expression had also led her to run away. The freshness of her buzz told him she was new to the game. Perhaps very new. There was a strangeness to it, however, that gave him pause.
She's probably fleeing her previous life. Doesn't understand how she died, or came back. Poor girl.
He was surprised at the pity he felt for her. Looking at the immortal that had followed him into the bus station, he noticed the same realization of newness dawn on his face as well. He should have taken this as his cue to walk away. After all, it was what he’d been hoping for. What did he care whether or not two immortals fought to the death? Except, she was new. So new. And while Methos generally did his best to avoid the Game, he also didn’t like bullies.
The other immortal began to advance towards the girl. She barely even noticed him, although he could tell the feeling of the immortal buzz had affected her. She looked shaken and nervous, but unsure as to why. The other immortal no longer even looked his way, his sights fixed entirely on the young girl as she headed towards the exit.
Methos knew that he should take this as a sign of good fortune. After all, he had only to slip away while the other immortal took the girl's head and he could be home in time to catch the game on satellite and drink a nice cold beer he remembered resided in his fridge. One less immortal to worry about when it came down to it. He didn't know her, and yet something gnawed at him at the idea of simply leaving her to die.
I've lived this long by not caring about anybody but myself, why start now? But even as he thought this, he knew they weren't true. He may have buried his conscience from time to time, but it was never gone. And he knew that the resurfacing of said highly annoying conscience had to do with that damned self righteous Scotsman Duncan MacLeod. Somehow, despite Methos' better judgment, he found the man's inherent goodness rubbing off on him. It ticked him off supremely, but he had long since given up trying to fight it. Time was, he would have been long gone at the first opportunity. Instead, he remained in the bus station, carefully following both the young girl and the man who stalked her, intending against his better wishes, to interfere in the fight. She's only a child, he reasoned, I can't let her die.
The girl did not make things better for herself. Instead of exiting the station onto a public street, she opted to take the back alleyway behind the station leaving her far from any public interference and a prime target for the other immortal. Methos managed to stay far enough away from the other man so as not to alert him or her of his presence via the buzz.
Being over five thousand years old had given him time to learn many things, including just how close one could get to another immortal without alerting them. It had been difficult, and varied from immortal to immortal but had been an incredibly useful skill over the years, both for hiding from perspective challenges and working with the watcher's council.
Once the two of them were deep inside the alleyway, Methos watched the other immortal ready himself to make his presence known. The girl turned first however, and stared at him with fixed angry eyes.
"You wanna tell me why you've been following me, or shall I let my fists guess?" It intrigued him to see that despite being cornered in an alleyway, she didn’t show the slightest bit of fear.
"I am here to challenge you," the man said simply. He removed his sword and held it high for the girl to see. She took a step back, visibly shaken by the sight of the weapon, a look on her face that almost resembled revulsion.
"I've seen enough swords to last me a lifetime thanks." She said, her voice trembling ever so slightly. Methos could see the tears in her eyes, even from his vantage point. He bided his time.
"You think that matters? You know the rules. I've challenged you. You have to fight."
"Excuse me?" She said, shaking off the emotion attached to the sight of the weapon for the moment and taking offense to his tone instead. Her eyes narrowed and she instinctively shuffled her feet into a battle stance. "Look, I don't think you want to fight me. You're human right? Go home."
"Wrong," the man said with a grin. "Fighting is exactly what I want to do. I want your head. You can either defend yourself, or die. It's up to you."
It was now or never. If Methos didn’t make himself known now, this fight would be over long before it began. Reluctantly, Methos stepped forth into the alleyway, hands in his pockets and his face as neutral and unfazed as possible. He did his best to look positively bored.
"That's rather unfair, isn't it?" He said, addressing the other immortal. "I mean, you and I can both clearly see she is new to this. She has no clue what she is, much less what the game is."
"This doesn't concern you," the other immortal growled. The girl looked at Methos in surprise and wariness, but not outward hostility...yet.
"Well, actually it does." Methos replied, smiling pleasantly. "You see, if I'm not mistaken, your challenge was originally for me. Call it vanity, but I take offense to you preferring this child's head over mine."
"I changed my mind,” the man said stubbornly. “My challenge was for the girl. She must accept."
"Look buddy I don't know who you are," the girl was speaking to Methos now, "but I can handle myself. Cut the knight in shining armor crap, and get out of here before you get yourself killed."
Her bravado interested him. Greatly. She was in every way outnumbered and vulnerable and yet she behaved as if they were the ones in danger.
"You think you can take him on yourself child?" Methos scoffed. She glared at him and balled her fists. Methos nearly laughed out loud at the sight. It was…cute.
"I think the next person who calls me child or little girl is going to find out what I can really do." She muttered darkly. Looking towards the man who had challenged her, she sighed and set her bags down. She removed her coat and assumed a fighting stance. "You wanna fight? Fine, but lose the weapon OK?"
"That’s not how this works." The other immortal replied. "The only way to determine the winner is to sever the head of the loser."
"And that can't be done with fists." Methos added. He sighed and appealed to the man one more time. "For the last time, please fight me instead. I promise to make the battle worth your while. She will be a moment's entertainment and nothing more."
"After I take her head, I shall take you up on the offer." The immortal agreed with a nod. "Alright if you don't have a sword then that is not my fault. I challenged you and you must accept."
With no more preamble, he lunged.