a very weird little fic
Mar. 27th, 2005 11:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rivendellroseBlame ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
theladyfeylene for this weird little bit of fluff - it was she who took my comment that my beginning of a sketch of Methos as Death looked just like David Bowie as the Goblin King (all I really had was hair and nose), and twisted it into this rabid little plot-bunny that wouldn't leave me alone until I'd committed it to writing.
Consider this fic to be set sometime in the fifth season - Richie knows who Methos really is, but the Ahriman situation hasn't started yet. Methos is at Macleod's while the Highlander is away, Richie won't leave him alone, and Methos learns that there are some things even a five thousand year-old immortal should never say. If you've never seen "Labyrinth," this probably won't make much sense. If you have... I apologize. I very sincerely apologize for making Methos say a certain formulaic phrase, too. But I had to. *g*
Rated PG-13 for language and supreme stupidity.
Title:
"Shut the hell up, Ryan - I'm trying to watch this!"
A wadded-up piece of paper flew across Metho's line of vision, just barely missing his nose. "It's boring! Come on, there's a race on the other channel, change it back!"
"I don't want to watch a stupid bike race. Go back to your own damned apartment if you want to."
"This isn't your loft! Duncan would let me watch it!"
"Yeah, well, Macleod isn't here, and I got in first so I get to choose what's on the TV!"
It was already looking to be a very long weekend. Macleod had left his loft in Seacouver to deal with a situation in Scotland and, as per usual, Methos had taken the opportunity to live a better life than his identity as Adam Pierson normally allowed him. Unfortunately, just after he'd gotten settled the peace and expensive electronics had been invaded by Macleod's loud-mouth little student, and things had gone downhill ever since. He drank the beer, he switched the channel of the TV every time Methos left the room, and replaced all the CDs in the six-disc changer for his own music, and hidden Methos' CDs somewhere else in the flat.
Richie stalked away from the couch, and for a moment Methos had a beautiful delusion that the young immortal had finally gotten the idea and was leaving. He listened for a moment, heard the closet open and what must have been Richie taking out his coat... and relaxed, sprawling on the couch as he returned his attention to his delightfully innaccurate historical documentary and sweet, dark beer.
"Hey, Methos...."
'I'm sorry, Old man. I really ought to know enough to let you do whatever you want,' Methos' mind filled in. He smirked. Yes, indeed. Richie would know better, after this time. 'Why don't I just leave, and maybe I'll send you some pizza later - my treat...'
"Meeethos...." The sound of a window opening pulled Methos back to reality. Richie was leaning out of Macleod's opened window, dangling Methos' CD case out into open air above the city streets.
"HEY! Those are mine!!!"
"Let me watch the race, or you'll be looking to replace all of it," Richie smirked, wiggling the case between two fingers. At that moment, the microwave timer went off in the kitchen to herald the completion of a bag of microwave popcorn, and Richie, high-strung as ever, jumped at the sound of the buzzer. His tenuous grip on Methos' CD case loosened for an instant, and the slippery faux-leather case slipped between his fingers and into a free-fall over downtown Seacouver. "Oh shit." Richie's eyes went wide. "I'm sorry, man, I didn't mean to really--EAAAGH!!"
"Damn you, you little imbecile, just wait til I get hold of you, Macleod won't have a body-part left that's big enough to bury! I've been collecting that music longer than you've been alive, you miserable infant!!!" Methos scrambled over furniture, chasing the younger immortal with fury so far gone he didn't even think of his sword. He would tear Richie Ryan limb from limb if he could catch him. Fortunately for Richie, Methos wasn't so quick as he'd once been, and longer limbs didn't make a lot of difference while dodging around Macleod's furniture. Richie locked himself in the bathroom, leaving Methos pounding on the door and shouting. "I wish someone would just take you away, Ryan, I really do! I wish someone would put you out of my misery! I wish... I wish the goblins would take you away!"
Richie was silent for a moment, then started laughing. "What the hell are you on? The goblins? Man, I knew you were old, but I didn't know you were fucking senile. Goblins. Just wait til I tell Macl--"
A chorus of hideous giggling came through the door, a sputtered gasp, and then... silence.
"Ryan?" Methos finally managed to shove the door open... just in time to see a tail disappear behind the toilet. A tail? He bent and peered behind the porcelain, but there was nothing there. There was also no Richie. And no way Richie could have gotten out.
"Hey... It really worked." Methos sat back on his heels. "That's weird - it really worked!" He thought for a moment. He had a vague notion that he should feel somewhat guilty about consigning the young immortal to... whatever it was he'd just sent him to, but to be honest, he just felt like having a beer. "Well. If I'd known it was that easy, I'd have done that two years ago."
* * *
Two hours later, Methos was lounging on Macleod's couch happily drinking a beer and watching another bad documentary when the elevator arose. No buzz accompanied it, so Methos simply waited and was rewarded with the sight of Joe. "Have a seat, Joe - I was just thinking of ordering a pizza, you want in on it?"
"Sure." The watcher sat down, glanced at the TV, and then looked around the loft. "Where's Richie? I thought he'd be over here."
"He was. Drove me insane, and destroyed my entire CD collection." Methos took another swig of beer. "But guess what, Joe? The goblins took him away!"
"The goblins." Joe stared at his friend. "You've gotta be joking."
"Nope! I said I wished they'd take him away, and they did!" Methos laughed. "You think if I asked they'd bring my CDs back, too? I don't really know what the limits are on this kind of thing, but you can bet I'll be finding out!"
Joe sat back and stared at the old immortal. Either Methos had finally gone 'round the bend and proved that five thousand years of life was just too much for any human brain to take and retain sanity... or Richie Ryan had been kidnapped by fairy story monsters. Neither possibility was likely to be a good sign.
"I'm just gonna call his apartment to make sure he didn't slip out."
"Go right ahead, Joe. I completely understand your skepticism." Methos waited patiently while Joe hit Richie's number in his speed-dial, waited, and then hung up. "I told you so," he chimed when Joe slipped his cellphone back into his pocket. "He's gone!"
The look of utter delight on Methos' face was really starting to give Joe the creeps. "Okay, so... you're saying that a bunch of goblins came in here and stole Richie."
"No, they took him." Methos took a swig of beer and grinned. "It's not stealing if you ask someone to take something."
"Right. And you're not at all upset by this. And just what are you planning to tell Mac when he gets home?"
The most recent sip of beer caught in Methos' throat as his eyes bugged wide. Clearly, he hadn't thought ahead far enough to the Highlander's reaction to the new status of his protege. "Umm.... he'll find another student?"
"You know he won't think of it like that, Methos."
"Shit." Methos set aside his beer and thought for a long moment. "I've got to leave."
"No, you've got to find Richie, you idiot!"
"I'm not doing that!"
"Ohhh, yes you are. And I'm going with you to make sure you get it right."
Methos looked up at Joe, saw that he was serious, and slumped, defeated. He downed the last of his beer, and set the bottle carefull on Macleod's coffee table. "We are so very screwed," he announced calmly.
"Yup. You got that right."
theladyfeylene for this weird little bit of fluff - it was she who took my comment that my beginning of a sketch of Methos as Death looked just like David Bowie as the Goblin King (all I really had was hair and nose), and twisted it into this rabid little plot-bunny that wouldn't leave me alone until I'd committed it to writing. Consider this fic to be set sometime in the fifth season - Richie knows who Methos really is, but the Ahriman situation hasn't started yet. Methos is at Macleod's while the Highlander is away, Richie won't leave him alone, and Methos learns that there are some things even a five thousand year-old immortal should never say. If you've never seen "Labyrinth," this probably won't make much sense. If you have... I apologize. I very sincerely apologize for making Methos say a certain formulaic phrase, too. But I had to. *g*
Rated PG-13 for language and supreme stupidity.
Title:
"Shut the hell up, Ryan - I'm trying to watch this!"
A wadded-up piece of paper flew across Metho's line of vision, just barely missing his nose. "It's boring! Come on, there's a race on the other channel, change it back!"
"I don't want to watch a stupid bike race. Go back to your own damned apartment if you want to."
"This isn't your loft! Duncan would let me watch it!"
"Yeah, well, Macleod isn't here, and I got in first so I get to choose what's on the TV!"
It was already looking to be a very long weekend. Macleod had left his loft in Seacouver to deal with a situation in Scotland and, as per usual, Methos had taken the opportunity to live a better life than his identity as Adam Pierson normally allowed him. Unfortunately, just after he'd gotten settled the peace and expensive electronics had been invaded by Macleod's loud-mouth little student, and things had gone downhill ever since. He drank the beer, he switched the channel of the TV every time Methos left the room, and replaced all the CDs in the six-disc changer for his own music, and hidden Methos' CDs somewhere else in the flat.
Richie stalked away from the couch, and for a moment Methos had a beautiful delusion that the young immortal had finally gotten the idea and was leaving. He listened for a moment, heard the closet open and what must have been Richie taking out his coat... and relaxed, sprawling on the couch as he returned his attention to his delightfully innaccurate historical documentary and sweet, dark beer.
"Hey, Methos...."
'I'm sorry, Old man. I really ought to know enough to let you do whatever you want,' Methos' mind filled in. He smirked. Yes, indeed. Richie would know better, after this time. 'Why don't I just leave, and maybe I'll send you some pizza later - my treat...'
"Meeethos...." The sound of a window opening pulled Methos back to reality. Richie was leaning out of Macleod's opened window, dangling Methos' CD case out into open air above the city streets.
"HEY! Those are mine!!!"
"Let me watch the race, or you'll be looking to replace all of it," Richie smirked, wiggling the case between two fingers. At that moment, the microwave timer went off in the kitchen to herald the completion of a bag of microwave popcorn, and Richie, high-strung as ever, jumped at the sound of the buzzer. His tenuous grip on Methos' CD case loosened for an instant, and the slippery faux-leather case slipped between his fingers and into a free-fall over downtown Seacouver. "Oh shit." Richie's eyes went wide. "I'm sorry, man, I didn't mean to really--EAAAGH!!"
"Damn you, you little imbecile, just wait til I get hold of you, Macleod won't have a body-part left that's big enough to bury! I've been collecting that music longer than you've been alive, you miserable infant!!!" Methos scrambled over furniture, chasing the younger immortal with fury so far gone he didn't even think of his sword. He would tear Richie Ryan limb from limb if he could catch him. Fortunately for Richie, Methos wasn't so quick as he'd once been, and longer limbs didn't make a lot of difference while dodging around Macleod's furniture. Richie locked himself in the bathroom, leaving Methos pounding on the door and shouting. "I wish someone would just take you away, Ryan, I really do! I wish someone would put you out of my misery! I wish... I wish the goblins would take you away!"
Richie was silent for a moment, then started laughing. "What the hell are you on? The goblins? Man, I knew you were old, but I didn't know you were fucking senile. Goblins. Just wait til I tell Macl--"
A chorus of hideous giggling came through the door, a sputtered gasp, and then... silence.
"Ryan?" Methos finally managed to shove the door open... just in time to see a tail disappear behind the toilet. A tail? He bent and peered behind the porcelain, but there was nothing there. There was also no Richie. And no way Richie could have gotten out.
"Hey... It really worked." Methos sat back on his heels. "That's weird - it really worked!" He thought for a moment. He had a vague notion that he should feel somewhat guilty about consigning the young immortal to... whatever it was he'd just sent him to, but to be honest, he just felt like having a beer. "Well. If I'd known it was that easy, I'd have done that two years ago."
* * *
Two hours later, Methos was lounging on Macleod's couch happily drinking a beer and watching another bad documentary when the elevator arose. No buzz accompanied it, so Methos simply waited and was rewarded with the sight of Joe. "Have a seat, Joe - I was just thinking of ordering a pizza, you want in on it?"
"Sure." The watcher sat down, glanced at the TV, and then looked around the loft. "Where's Richie? I thought he'd be over here."
"He was. Drove me insane, and destroyed my entire CD collection." Methos took another swig of beer. "But guess what, Joe? The goblins took him away!"
"The goblins." Joe stared at his friend. "You've gotta be joking."
"Nope! I said I wished they'd take him away, and they did!" Methos laughed. "You think if I asked they'd bring my CDs back, too? I don't really know what the limits are on this kind of thing, but you can bet I'll be finding out!"
Joe sat back and stared at the old immortal. Either Methos had finally gone 'round the bend and proved that five thousand years of life was just too much for any human brain to take and retain sanity... or Richie Ryan had been kidnapped by fairy story monsters. Neither possibility was likely to be a good sign.
"I'm just gonna call his apartment to make sure he didn't slip out."
"Go right ahead, Joe. I completely understand your skepticism." Methos waited patiently while Joe hit Richie's number in his speed-dial, waited, and then hung up. "I told you so," he chimed when Joe slipped his cellphone back into his pocket. "He's gone!"
The look of utter delight on Methos' face was really starting to give Joe the creeps. "Okay, so... you're saying that a bunch of goblins came in here and stole Richie."
"No, they took him." Methos took a swig of beer and grinned. "It's not stealing if you ask someone to take something."
"Right. And you're not at all upset by this. And just what are you planning to tell Mac when he gets home?"
The most recent sip of beer caught in Methos' throat as his eyes bugged wide. Clearly, he hadn't thought ahead far enough to the Highlander's reaction to the new status of his protege. "Umm.... he'll find another student?"
"You know he won't think of it like that, Methos."
"Shit." Methos set aside his beer and thought for a long moment. "I've got to leave."
"No, you've got to find Richie, you idiot!"
"I'm not doing that!"
"Ohhh, yes you are. And I'm going with you to make sure you get it right."
Methos looked up at Joe, saw that he was serious, and slumped, defeated. He downed the last of his beer, and set the bottle carefull on Macleod's coffee table. "We are so very screwed," he announced calmly.
"Yup. You got that right."
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Date: 2005-03-27 10:10 pm (UTC)I want to wish myself away to him for a similar fateno subject
Date: 2005-03-28 05:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-28 12:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-28 05:25 am (UTC)