It was the atmosphere, Methos decided, and that was all it was to it. Kronos' new little haven in Bordeaux was gloomy, dank, and utterly medieval--quite possibly the reason why Methos felt completely depressed at the moment. At first sight, Methos had taken an educated guess that he would grow to dislike the place and now, during second sight as he watched a rat skitter across the floor, Methos knew that he would do more than dislike it. He would absolutely loath it. Methos curled his upper lip in distaste. "Charming."

Kronos was rather amused at his companion's pronouncement of his chosen safe house--something else to add to Methos' dissatisfaction with the whole situation. "Not to your taste is it?" Methos didn't trust himself to answer and only give Kronos a look that caused the other Immortal to burst out laughing. "You'll get used to it, brother."

Somehow, Methos doubted that.

Kronos quickly left the other three Immortals to explore their newfound surroundings, supposedly to check up on the base's structure and make sure no one had broken in. Methos was certain that Kronos was up to something and would have followed his one-time brother if Kronos hadn't quite forcefully insisted he'd rather be alone at the moment. Sighing, Methos had decided that exploring the place couldn't hurt. One had to know where the various ladders, tunnels, and catwalks led to if one was to safely determine the quickest escape routes.

The end of Methos' exploring led him to an open part of a catwalk the size of a small room where pieces of scrap metal possibly scavenged from the last evil overlord's plot to take over the world sufficed as chairs. Idly, Methos wondered if Kronos had made them himself. They were, after all, just his style--all spikes and metal parts wielded together. Choosing the best one, Methos settled down, pulling out a book from the one bag of personal possessions Kronos had allowed him. When Caspian joined him, Methos didn't bother to acknowledge him, not even when he chose a seat next to Methos, supposedly in the interest of starting a conversation. Not that Methos would ever deign to talk to the madman unless it was absolutely necessary.

"I like this place," Caspian fairly crowed, kicking his feet up onto the makeshift table. "It's just my style."

"Yeah," Methos agreed, turning a page. "Dark and creepy, I'd say that's just your thing." After so many years imprisoned in the bowels of that Romanian asylum, Methos was hardly surprised that Caspian had grown to like dark and damp places such as the one they now haunted.

Caspian let the comment slide by with only a warning glance. Deciding to try to annoy Methos, Caspian reached out and took the book from Methos' hand. "What's this?" he asked, turning the book every which way but up, holding it just out of Methos' reach.

"What, you never learned to read?" Methos snapped, making a grab for the book.

Caspian's grin was anything but sane. "Why bother?"

"Oh, I don't know, it might have--" The comment died before Methos had a chance to finish it as he successfully retrieved the book from Caspian and settled back into his seat, frowning when he realized that he had lost his page.

"Might have what?" Caspian asked, sitting back against his chair, crossing his arms.

Methos didn't bother to look up. "Might have helped pass the time that you spent rotting down in that hellhole of a cell we dug you out of." He turned another page.

A dark look crossed Caspian's face. "That smart mouth of yours might get you into trouble one of these days." Methos ignored him rather than giving voice to the sarcastic comeback that tickled his throat. Sometimes, although very rarely, Caspian could be right.

Caspian, on the other hand, took Methos' silence as a challenge in itself and seized Methos' face roughly with one hand, forcing the other Immortal to look at him. Methos deliberately relaxed, forcing the fear from his body, as he knew Caspian would take full advantage of any signs of terror. "Were you even listening?" Caspian growled.

"Mm? Should I have?" Methos was confident. He thought he knew what Caspian would do next--try to assert his power, which, in Methos' eyes, equaled none. He'd do it with brute strength, obviously, as that was just Caspian's nature but he wouldn't get too violent--Kronos and Silas were still skulking around, after all. Always the one to be prepared, however, Methos fingered the knife hidden up his sleeve, making sure it was firmly in place and ready for use, just in case Caspian did get a little out-of-hand. Overall, Methos felt it was a situation in which he could easily deal with. He forgot, however, to factor in one of the more crucial points of human nature--unpredictability. When Caspian kissed him, Methos was anything but prepared to receive it and could do nothing but stare at him in shock, desperately wondering how he got himself into these predicaments.

Always one to switch gears on the fly, however, Methos recovered quickly and pushed Caspian away as forcefully as he could, sending the other Immortal sprawling onto the floor. "Stay away from me," he growled, furiously wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand.

Caspian grinned up at him. "What, so you'll bend over for Kronos but not for me?" Methos didn't bother to dignify the remark with an answer, choosing instead to settle back into his chair and pick up his book once more, pointedly ignoring Caspian. Caspian rose to his feet and walked over to Methos to lean in close. "No more sarcastic comebacks, brother?"

Methos sighed, putting down his book, and moving his head to the right a little in order to look Caspian in the eye. "I'm going to say this slowly and in very small words so you'll understand it. Go. To. Hell." Caspian suddenly lunged, grabbing Methos' shirt in his fist and hauling the other Immortal out of his chair, preparing to throw Methos across the room but not receiving the chance as Methos already had a small knife pressed up against Caspian's throat. "Just try it," Methos dared. "I told you long ago that if I had to lose just one, it would be you and I mean that now more than ever." Caspian snarled at that but grudgingly let go of Methos' shirt, dropping him back onto the chair. Methos watched cautiously as Caspian stalked to the far wall, making sure that a repeat of the previous scene would not appear before picking up his discarded novel once more. Caspian, however, seemed quite content to torture a poor, caged rat, something that, considering Methos' earlier run in with the same animal, Methos was happy to allow him.

Methos only looked up again when Silas entered as the man was calling out "Methos! 'Ey, Methos!" in his deep, booming voice as he climbed the stairs. Silas was many things but easy to ignore was not one of them. Not that Methos had ever wanted to do so to the gentle giant. Well, once or twice, but that was beside the point. "What the hell is this place?" Silas asked, breathing the briny air and chuckling as he turned around, checking out the place.

"This is Kronos' idea of Camelot," Methos answered sourly, still trying to pretend to read. When, however, Silas sat down next to him and inquired where the stables were, Methos was practically forced to look up in awed shock. Methos wondered just exactly how long Silas had spent in that Ukrainian forest chopping wood.

"The horses?" Silas asked. Methos shook his head mutely, his hand frozen in the process of turning the page. Silas looked confused. "Well how do we ride?"

"Where have you been for the past two thousand years, idiot?" Caspian snarled, still facing the wall. A thought suddenly came to him and he turned around, a grin plastered on his face. "Living in the woods," he said, answering his own question. Silas leaned back against his chair, offended and starting to get angry. Seeing he had hit a nerve, Caspian continued. "And now you think we can just mount up and gallop down Broadway?"

"We can do whatever we please," Silas growled, not looking at Caspian.

Caspian chuckled and walked towards the table, bringing the rodent he had been torturing with him. "Right. Four guys on horseback. Wild masks. They'll think we're in a circus."

"They won't think it for long, will they?"

Deciding to hit another nerve, Caspian tried another topic. "We're having a friend for dinner," he taunted, setting the squeaking rat on the table. "Tell me what's best with rodent--red or white?"

True to his nature, Silas immediately bristled at the thought of harming an animal. "Eat him," he threatened darkly, "and I eat you."

"You're crazy," Caspian mocked. "You should have been in the madhouse instead of me."

"Keep talking," Silas dared.

Methos looked up at the both of them but decided not to interfere with the fight brewing between his two brothers and so continued to read, not even responding with the two grabbed their weapons off the table shouting. At the moment, he was all for them taking each other's heads.

Having just been passing by, Kronos saw the potential fight and quickly entered, asserting his control with merely his presence. "Put them down," he ordered. Caspian and Silas looked ready to disobey him but Kronos added "Do it now" with unspoken menace in his voice. The ax and blade quickly clattered to the table. Kronos stalked into the room. "We never raise a blade to each other." He turned to Methos. "Isn't that right, Methos?"

Distracted once more from his book, Methos looked up at him, idly wondering why Kronos always turned back to him for support. He stalled for a bit of time, trying to decide which words would best suit the situation but settled for "You said it..." He added a brittle smile meant to convey his complete lack of hostility.

Kronos walked around behind Silas. "We are the four horsemen. No band of men has ever been more cruel or more feared. Remember that." His speech done, he held out his hand, inviting the other three to unite once more as brothers. Barely hesitating, Silas grabbed his arm. Caspian was next, latching on to Silas'. Methos thought about it for a split second before voluntarily putting down his book and joining them, clasping Caspian's arm to complete the square.

Methos, as the last one up, was the first to sit back down. For the moment he forgot about his half-read book, focusing on Kronos since he was there. "So what is the plan?" Methos quietly inquired, knowing that he had everyone's attention immediately.

Obviously deciding that anticipation was half the fun, Kronos dismissed the question with a "You'll see" response, setting a predatory gaze on Methos, stalking him.

"Oh?" Methos asked casually, pretending not to notice Kronos' preoccupation. "When?"

"Later," Kronos said flippantly, straddling Methos' thighs.

Methos leaned as far back in his high-backed chair as he could manage. "No, no. I want to see now. How else can I gauge how it will work?"

"I said, later," Kronos warned, giving Methos an irritated glare. "Trust me." With that, Kronos declared the discussion over and so went to work on other, more interesting pursuits. He bent his head to latch his mouth onto Methos' neck. Methos closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting Kronos have his way, determined that if this was going to happen, at least he could enjoy it.

Silas glanced at them and quickly left his seat, heading towards the door. The time for brotherhood was over at least for a few hours. Caspian, however, had other ideas. He grabbed Silas' arm as the other Immortal passed him, his eyes glued on the sight in front of him. Silas looked at him quizzically, pulling at his arm, uncomfortable with the thought of invading Kronos and Methos' privacy.

Noticing the distinct lack of fading Immortal presences, Methos opened his eyes, narrowing them when he came across Caspian's leer. "Kronos..." he protested, trying to gain Kronos' attention. When Kronos didn't answer, Methos grabbed Kronos' head, forcing him away from Methos' neck.

"What?" Kronos snapped, annoyance filling his voice.

Methos nodded towards Caspian and Silas, and whispered, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Kronos cast a dismissive glance over at Caspian and the embarrassed Silas, categorizing them with that one look as unimportant. "It doesn't matter," he said, trying to return to his earlier preoccupation.

Methos didn't let him, pulling back on his hair. "Are you sure that's such a good idea?"

Irritated at Methos' interruptions, Kronos' anger started to rise, sharpening his voice. "What do you mean?"

Knowing that he now he Kronos' attention, Methos decided to get straight to the point, aiming at one of the few targets that angered Kronos the most. "Caspian already lusts after me; are you sure you want to give him that..." Methos used one of the oldest tricks in the book and lowered his eyes to gaze at Kronos from under his eyelashes. It was a typically feminine tactic but one Methos had found could work for anyone given the right circumstances as it wasn't that men never used it, but more like it never occurred to them to do so. "...temptation?" he finished, lowering his voice to a deep, husky tone.

Kronos, oblivious at the moment to Methos manipulations, frowned, his jealously rising to the fore, blotting out any other concerns. "He does?" he asked, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. Methos nodded silently. "And Silas?"

Methos grinned sardonically at the very thought. "No, just Caspian."

Kronos suddenly surprised Methos by grabbing the other Immortal's head in his hands, forcing Methos to look him in the eye. "You'd better not be lying about this, brother."

Trying to act nonchalant, Methos smiled. "And why would I do that?"

"You think I don't know of your dislike for Caspian?"

Methos' smile faltered. "I swear to you, Kronos, Caspian propositioned me just before you entered." He decided it was best not to add anything more lest Kronos do more than force the other Immortal to leave. Like try to kill him, for instance, which would quite simply ruin any chances Methos had of getting out of this fiasco alive.

Jealously sparked in Kronos' eyes. /Jackpot!/ Methos crowed to himself as Kronos whirled towards Caspian and Silas, fixing his gaze on Caspian specifically. The order he gave them was very clear in it's message. "Get. Out."

Silas was only to happy to leave and had left the room before Kronos finished his second word. Caspian was somewhat reluctant to follow the order but one more look at Kronos' face, convinced him not to push the issue. Methos smiled evilly at Caspian from over Kronos' shoulder, mouthing the words "I win." Caspian snarled, but, as he was unable to do anything else, he merely turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

The other two Immortals gone, Methos quickly pulled Kronos back around to face him, settling himself down into the task of pleasing his possessive blood-brother. After all, it was more entertaining than trying to finish a book he'd already read three times anyway.