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Title: But a Day ``°°ºº¤oøO§Oøo¤ºº°°``°°ºº¤oøO§Oøo¤ºº°°``°°ºº¤oøO§Oøo¤ºº°°`` He blinked. Twice. But the man was still there, long black hair drawn back into a somewhat haphazard queue, handsome face in repose. Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod lay unconscious before him. Methos was still blinking stupidly at his friend when the big Scot's body heaved up off the ground, and he coughed once. As soon as the bolt of white-hot energy had come out of nowhere and struck his shuttle, Duncan had known he was in trouble. If he could believe his shipboard instruments, he'd been transported more than twenty thousand light-years away from the colony on Ragos II, the place where he'd made his home. He'd been en route to make some EVA repairs on an orbiting subspace communications grid when the anomaly had struck, and he'd prudently suited up during his headlong rush through space, not knowing if his craft would survive the trip in one piece. Once again, if he could believe his instruments, the journey he'd taken should've lasted 80 years, but it took only minutes. Then, suddenly, he'd been caught in the gravitational field of a large, M-class planet. He could do nothing more than brace for impact, hoping that his EVA suit would give him a better chance for survival. Duncan came awake all at once. His first thought was that he was glad his head had remained attached during that horrific crash. His second was to flail for his sword as Immortal Presence fizzed across his nerves. "Mac, Mac, it's okay. It's just me. You're safe," said a suspiciously familiar baritone. Duncan's eyes opened and slowly cleared. He gasped, scarcely believing what his eyes told him was true. His gloved hands fumbled to grab the other's forearms. "My God. Methos?!" Duncan was absolutely incredulous. A sardonic smile spread lopsidedly over the old man's face. "Welcome to Riyal, Mac. Mi casa es su casa. I'd offer you a beer, but I left it all back at my cabin." A strangled chuckle escaped Duncan's lips, and then suddenly, he was pulling Methos down into a fierce bear hug. Methos knew he should feel startled, but it felt like the most natural thing in the world to melt into the Highlander's embrace, to throw his arms about the other warrior's neck and bury his head at the juncture of strong bronze neck and muscular shoulder. "Gods, Mac, it's good to see you again," Methos said softly. "I was sure your boyscout code would've gotten you killed by now. I'm more glad than I can say that I was wrong about that. A thousand years, Mac..." Duncan's arms tightened their hold, and he smiled into his old friend's shoulder. "I've missed you, Methos. I can't even tell you how many times I've come home expecting...hoping...to see you sprawled all over the furniture, drinking my beer. Every time you weren't there, I died a little, I think. A thousand years is too long to go without seeing a friend. Let's not do it again, all right?" Methos laughed. "I think I can handle that, Highlander." The old man realized that he should probably get Mac on his feet and check for other injuries, but he couldn't quite bring himself to crawl out of the Scot's lap. Not yet. Duncan finally noticed their audience. He stiffened, eyes casting about desperately for his sword. "Um, Methos? I think we have company," he said tightly. Company? Methos' eyes scanned the area. He laughed when he saw the Kats regarding them with puzzled expressions, having forgotten all about them. "Relax, Mac, they're friends. Sentient felines that communicate mentally. They call themselves the K'rrah, and they're much more intelligent than the local humans. Since you're Immortal, you should be able to hear them - something to do with our Quickenings, I think. I'm part of their pack now. I'll introduce you." //Hrryn, Skyrr, come meet my friend. He is from my original home, and we were friends a very long time ago. He is a brave and fierce warrior; he fights with honor and always for what is good and right. He is no threat to you and yours and will be a friend to the pack.// The Kats approached slowly and warily. "Did you hear anything I said to them just now?" Methos asked, wondering if his telepathy extended beyond the Kats. "Nope, not a thing." Methos made a non-committal noise and extricated himself reluctantly from Duncan's arms. He spoke his next words both aloud and in his mind, so that everyone would hear. "Hrryn, Skyrr, meet Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. It's a long name, but he'll answer to Duncan, MacLeod, or just Mac. Mac, meet Hrryn and Skyrr of the K'rrah." He drew his stiletto and passed it to Duncan. "Score your palm and offer it to them. It's a gesture of friendship and a ritual that will allow you to share mind speech with them." Duncan complied and clasped bloody appendages first with Skyrr, then Hrryn. Methos heard their mental greetings to the Scot, and watched his handsome face transform with wonder as he exchanged thoughts with the Kats. "Incredible!" he whispered aloud to Methos. Hrryn turned to look at the older Immortal. //It is fortunate that the Vortex called your mate here to be with you.// Methos nearly swallowed his tongue, wondering how the Kats had managed to overhear the whispers of his attraction to the Highlander, which he kept locked tightly away in deepest recesses of his soul. Duncan, having overheard the remark, looked acutely discomfited. Well. Looks like I'd best disabuse them of that notion, thought Methos to himself. //Duncan's not my mate, Hrryn! He's my friend!// Skyrr looked puzzled. //But you have each other's marks upon your minds. For us, that is a sign of mating. This is not the case for you?// Duncan and Methos glanced at each other in comical confusion. "Marks on our minds?" Duncan asked helplessly. Methos' mind worked furiously for a moment. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. "The double Quickening. Remember Bordeaux? We shared a bit of each other then along with Kronos and Silas." Duncan was nodding even before Methos finished. "How could I forget Bordeaux? You're probably right. Now how do we explain it to them?" "Hmmm..." Methos then addressed the Kats. //We bear each other's marks because we are shieldmates - brothers in battle. It was during a fight against evil warriors that our minds joined briefly and exchanged marks.// The Kats looked surprised but communicated acceptance and understanding. //This does not happen with us,// Hrryn said, //but then, your minds are different from ours. Perhaps it is different for you.// Methos nodded and got to his feet. He held out his hand to Duncan. "On your feet, Highlander. I need to see if anything else needs fixing." Duncan accepted the offer of assistance and was pulled upright by a surprisingly strong grip. He wobbled unsteadily for a moment, then regained his equilibrium. "I think I'm more or less in one piece, Old Man." He glanced over at the jagged hunk of control panel that Methos had pulled from his chest. Duncan paled slightly when he saw the liberal amount of blood smeared all over it. He glanced down at his torn jumpsuit. "I take it that was..." he gulped. "Yeah. Kept you out for awhile." "I think I'm glad I didn't feel it." Duncan proceeded to strip out of his torn EVA suit, leaving fitted leggings and ruined shirt beneath. He examined his shirt and grimaced. "Well, looks like that's no good anymore." He peeled the tight, torn garment off over his head. Methos tried not to stare. Good grief, but the youngster could've been a god! Tall, bronze, muscular, overwhelmingly masculine. No wonder women fell all over themselves for MacLeod. Good thing the younger man was so staunchly heterosexual, or Methos might've been in serious trouble. It was no end of danger to get involved with another Immortal - went contrary to everything in the older man's survivalist credo. Thank any god that was listening that the only Immortal Methos had ever had any serious feelings for could never return them. Now all he had to do was get those feelings to go away and leave him alone. He raked another covert glance up and down the younger man's frame. Not very likely. Not while he looked like that. Duncan looked over at Methos. "I don't suppose you have another shirt - I wasn't packed for an overnight trip. Even if my packs had made it out, I wouldn't have had any extra clothes." Methos opened his pack and removed his spare tunic. "This might be a bit small in the shoulders for you, but it's the best I can do for now. We'll go into town tomorrow and get you some clothes. And your packs did make it out, by the way. I figured you'd want your sword." MacLeod exhaled with relief when he opened the slim case and found his treasured katana unharmed. "Thanks, Methos. I'd never have forgiven myself if I'd lost Hideo's sword. I take it my shuttle didn't make it?" "Nope. Went up like a firecracker before you revived. I'm afraid you're stuck here until I decide to leave. My ship's the only warp-capable vessel on the planet." Duncan looked surprised. "This is a pre-warp planet?" He reflected on that for a moment. "Of course. The Federation leaves pre-warp civilizations alone. Perfect place to hide." Methos bristled. MacLeod made it sound like he was a coward, running away from everything. "Not hide, Mac. Live. Perfect place to live. No headhunters, and none likely to land here, though I've yet to figure out how the heck you got here." MacLeod snorted as he donned Methos' tunic and belted it at his waist. "Actually, I was hoping you could tell me. I was in orbit around Ragos II to make some repairs to a subspace grid, then my ship got hit with some kind of energy surge. All of a sudden, I was holding on for dear life and hoping I didn't end up splattered all over the planet surface. I'm not even terribly sure where we are." "Energy surge, eh? Hmmm, looks like there are other forces at work here, Mac. I'll explain it all when we get back." Methos switched to mind speech. //Skyrr, would you mind carrying my friend?// //I would be honored. I will bear you willingly, human.// MacLeod nodded and approached the huge black Kat, a bit nervous about the prospect of riding a feline the size of a horse. Skyrr growled and nudged the Scot playfully. //I will not bite. I have already eaten today,// the big Kat deadpanned. A startled laugh burst from MacLeod's lips as he climbed astride his mount. Methos followed suit, stretching out on Hrryn's back to give him freedom to run. MacLeod followed his example. The Kats set off at a rapid pace, not slowing until they approached the entrance to the Vortex canyon. Methos dismounted and indicated that Mac should do the same. The older man grabbed Duncan's hand and began chanting in Ancient Egyptian, imploring Bast to allow his friend to pass the canyon Guardians. The statues' eyes began to glow and pulse again. Methos took that as a good sign and began to tug Duncan into the canyon. The younger man resisted. "Methos, what...?" "Not now, Duncan! They've decided to let you in. Let's not test their patience, hmm?" Duncan closed his mouth and followed his friend into the canyon. He gaped. The rocky walls were positively packed with huge felines. Kyrragh approached them growling. //I consented to the first human. Why do you bring another?// Hrryn visibly attempted to control his temper. Sometimes, the revered pack leader could be a royal pain. //This is Methos' packmate, from the lands where he hunted before he came among us. He was inside the thing which fell from the sky. Their spirits bear each other's marks.// Kyrragh looked patently unconvinced. //They are mates?!// He was incredulous. Methos begged any deity listening for patience. //We are brothers in battle. He is my friend, and he is an honorable man. The Guardians let him past, as you can plainly see. If you offer him your friendship, he will offer you his and pledge his loyalty to the pack.// Kyrragh snorted with distrust. //This one is a natural leader. I will not allow him to take over the pack.// Mental amusement from Methos. //Why would he want to lead a pack of another species? Just don't order him around, and he'll leave you alone.// Methos turned and whispered in Duncan's ear for a moment. The Scot nodded and drew his katana from its sheath across his back. He scored his palm on its edge and offered it to the big Kat. //My name is Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. As Clan Chief, I offer you friendship and alliance. When I run with your pack, I will defer to your leadership. My blade for your defense, and the loyalty of me and mine to the pack.// Kyrragh hesitated briefly, then nodded once, apparently satisfied with that. //As pack leader, I accept your offer of friendship and alliance and offer you the same in return. As Clan Chief, you may call on us at need. We will fight with your Clan as we would fight with our own.// Duncan nodded his acknowledgment, then turned to examine the canyon's interior more thoroughly. The swirling vortex at the center caught his eye. "Methos? What is that?" he asked, unable to take his eyes from the maelstrom of Quickening fire at the canyon's center. "That's a damned good question, MacLeod. I've been trying to figure that out for the better part of the day, myself. When I wasn't trying to rescue your sorry ass, of course." Duncan smiled wryly. Some things never change, not even in a thousand years. The two Immortals were still standing there, contemplating the mystery in front of them, when it suddenly flared to life again, transfixing them both with searing bolts of energy. It was Bordeaux all over again, lightning arcing between them and pulling inhuman screams from their throats. Hrryn and Skyrr lunged forward, concerned for their human friends. //We've got to get them out of here! It will kill them!// //No!// Kyrragh's order crackled sharply across their minds. //It is not our place to interfere. Besides, if we remove them now, we may do more harm than good.// The Kats subsided uneasily, still tensed to spring forth and snatch the Immortals to the dubious safety awaiting outside the canyon. As abruptly as the Vortex had lashed out, it quieted, leaving the two men gasping on the ground. Well. Wasn't that delightful, Methos thought wryly to himself. This "quiet life" he'd found for himself was becoming less and less quiet. "You can say that again," MacLeod rasped weakly, still recovering from the charge that had surged through them. Methos snorted sardonically, then froze. "Mac, what exactly could I say again?" Duncan flicked a confused glance at his friend. "That comment you made about uninvited electrocution being delightful, of course. What else?" Methos swallowed. "But I didn't say it. At least not out loud." Comprehension dawned in chocolate brown eyes. "You mean..." "I don't know what I mean." Methos' eyes were a bit wild. He thought he'd seen everything in his 6000 years, but this definitely took the cake. "Concentrate on something, Duncan, something I couldn't possibly come up with on my own." Duncan's eyes darkened in confusion for a moment, then he thought for a moment. "Okay. Whatever you're doing, try it now." Somehow, Methos concentrated in Duncan's direction. It felt like his brain was stretching towards the other man. Without warning, he burst out laughing. To his mortification, Duncan felt his cheeks grow hot, which of course made him blush even more. "Whot're ye laughing at?" he grumbled, his brogue thickening. "Nice legs in a kilt, eh, Mac? I'll have you know that these legs have been worshipped before." "Yeah, sure," Duncan said shortly. "Whatever made you think about my legs in a kilt??" "You said to concentrate on something you couldn't think of on your own. I figured that was it." "Well you're right about one thing - I certainly wouldn't have come up with something like that on my own. Do you really think that..." Methos cut himself off. "Gods, Mac, do you realize what we just did." "Aye, I think I've got a pretty good idea," the Scot said nervously. //So you can hear me?// Methos sent. //Aye.// //Well. Isn't this lovely. First you crash on my planet, and now I can't get you out of my head.// Amusement sparkled along their mental link. //So I guess I finally have an opportunity to return the favor, eh? You certainly freeloaded enough a thousand years ago.// Methos had the grace to look faintly guilty, but didn't get a chance to respond. He was interrupted by a pair of very concerned Kats who nudged ungently at them with their huge pink noses. //Friend Methos? Are you hurt?// Hrryn was worried. //No, Hrryn, I don't think so. Duncan and I can speak to each other now as we speak to you, but that appears to be the only effect.// Skyrr looked Duncan over from head to foot. He whuffled at the long black hair that had come loose from the tie that normally confined it. The ticklish sensation made Duncan laugh, and he cuffed the Kat affectionately across his muzzle. Skyrr looked surprised for a moment, then butted the Scot with his huge head. //One was concerned for your welfare, friend Duncan. One is pleased you are not harmed.// Sensing the grave formality of the address, Duncan responded accordingly. //One is grateful for your concern, and one will try not to warrant it again.// Skyrr's yellow eyes gleamed. Methos' stomach suddenly rumbled loudly. He glanced at the pack leader. //My friend and I have not eaten for quite some time, and I have a feeling that you don't have anything appropriate for us here. I think we should return to my home.// Kyrragh nodded. //That would probably be best. I will enjoin you, however, not to come here unless we are all present. The Vortex has taken quite an interest in you two, and I think it is safer for everyone if you do not come here alone.// //Fair enough,// Duncan said. Hrryn and Skyrr crouched to allow Methos and Duncan to mount. Both men nodded silently to Kyrragh, and then the two other Kats carried them out of the Vortex canyon and headed for Methos' home at a leisurely trot. "So, Methos, tell me about this planet I've crash-landed on," Duncan said to break the silence. Methos looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, not much to tell, really. Tolerable climate, wildlife is generally friendly, native fruits and vegetables are not only edible, they are quite palatable. There are is a large variety of feline wildlife, of which the K'rrah are the largest and the only sentient variety. The indigenous humans do not trust the K'rrah because they cannot speak with them. They view the Kats as unintelligent predators, though the K'rrah never hunt humans. Because of this, they don't trust me, since I have been seen with Hrryn on several occasions." MacLeod snorted. "Losing your touch, old man? I know you're better at hiding than that." Methos looked offended. "I'm hurt, Mac, truly hurt," the ancient man said in an injured tone. "It happened before I knew that the townspeople couldn't communicate with the Kats. Losing my touch, indeed." "Tell me about these people, then. I'll probably have to interact with them sooner rather than later if I'm to start over here." Something in the Highlander's voice made Methos cast a penetrating glance at him. "Where were you living before that Vortex dumped you here?" "Ragos II," Mac said shortly. "I'd actually been asked to run for governor of Chelain province. I was really considering it seriously." Methos nodded thoughtfully. "You'd make a good governor, Mac. Not so different from being Clan Chief, I suppose." His voice turned gentle. "Did you leave behind anyone important to you, Duncan?" Duncan shook his head. "Not the way you mean. Amanda will wonder where I've gone off to, and Rich was supposed to visit me next month. Connor will be worried sick. We built our homes near one another, claimed some land on a new world for the Clan MacLeod. Even invited some of the remaining Clan members on Earth to build there, now that the Highlands have been settled and built up." "A fine dream, Mac, to give your Clan a new home. Your father would be proud." Duncan winced. "Not of me. He couldn't abide having an 'unnatural demon' as a son." Methos cursed himself silently. He should've known better. He should've known that that would still be a sore spot, even after 1500 years. "S'not your fault, Methos. 1500 years should be long enough," Duncan responded to Methos' thought. Methos started. "Do you mind? I'd like to keep my thoughts private unless I invite you in, thanks," he said testily. "Sorry. I couldn't help overhearing." "I'll have to start thinking in Aramaic again, or something," the older man grumbled to himself. Duncan laughed. "Somehow, I don't think it'd make much difference. Even if you don't articulate your thoughts with words, I still have a general sense of them. Does it go both ways, old man? Do you know what I'm thinking?" "Well, of course I do," Methos said irritably. "I've just been tuning it out because I had the notion that you might like to keep your thoughts private." Duncan winced again. "Right. Sorry." Methos sighed. "No, Mac, there's no need to be. You didn't ask for this any more than I did." He grinned somewhat ruefully. "I suppose I'm too set in my ways after 6000 years, and I'm not dealing with this very well." Duncan grinned. He spoke up as another question popped into his mind. "Say, how long did it take you to get here, anyway?" "If we leave today and travel at maximum warp, we'll reach Earth in 80 years." Duncan blinked. "Wow. When you depart for parts unknown, you really make sure they're unknown, don't you?" Methos chuckled mirthlessly. "The ultimate survival maneuver, Mac. I came to a planet where there are no Immortals, and where Immortals will never come, at least not until the local populace becomes warp capable. That should be several more centuries. They still haven't gotten the hang of air travel yet, much less space travel." Methos looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'll go into town alone tomorrow and get you some clothes. There's no way you'd fit into much of mine, and you can't be seen in Federation garb. They'd be immediately mistrustful." Methos trailed off. "Oh, by the way, you can wear your sword openly here; they still wear weaponry. But don't draw it in public unless you absolutely have to. That's very bad form." Mac was smiling bemusedly at his friend's distracted rambling. "Sure, Methos. Consider me your student." Methos turned amazed eyes on his friend. "At 1500 years old, I hardly think you need a teacher any more, Mac." MacLeod snorted. Methos spotted the roof of his "cabin" through the trees up ahead. "Ah, here we are then. Home sweet home." The two Kats came to a halt inside the clearing, and the two men dismounted. Hrryn, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the journey, spoke up. //Friend Methos, Skyrr and I spoke at length while we traveled. It is not right for members of the pack to live alone and away from their packmates. You and your shieldmate are our brothers now. With your permission, Skyrr and I would like to join your pack and make our dens on your grounds.// Methos' eyes widened. //You would live apart from your own kind?// Skyrr whuffled in amusement. //We are young males. We will soon be asked to leave our family group and form our own packs. We may be civilized, but mating and territorial imperatives are difficult to ignore. Adult males always send their sons away to form their own families, partly because they want the young males to be successful, but partly because we could one day challenge their positions.// Methos considered that for a moment. //What are your requirements for shelter?// The Kats glanced at each other. //It is customary for our kind to live in dens of rock. Caves, I think you call them,// Hrryn said. //We are, however, flexible. We will sleep in the trees on the edge of your clearing. Perhaps we could have a shelter of some kind to sit under when the rains come?// Methos snorted. //I can do better than that.// Duncan was eyeing Methos' cabin nervously. //I don't know, old man. I think they'd have a bit of a problem fitting into your house.// He projected his thoughts without even thinking about it. A grin spread slowly across the old Immortal's face. //Not everything is as it seems, youngster. I think you two will find that the cargo bay on my ship is large enough for you.// He stepped through the door and addressed the wall. "Computer, change cloaking parameters on cargo bay 1 as follows and then open the bay doors." His fingers flew over a control pad that materialized under his fingers. The rocky outcropping against which the house had been built suddenly shimmered and shifted until it became a large, dry cave. Duncan blinked. //Very nice, old man.// The Kats rumbled approvingly as they investigated the interior. Skyrr then bounded lightly up to the top of the "rock," where he stretched out in the warm sun. //Most satisfactory,// he sent with a contented rumble. Hrryn padded over to the door of the cabin and poked his head inside, butting Methos affectionately. //You furless folk are better with your front paws than we give you credit for.// His amusement burbled along the links to the two men and his K'rrah packmate. "So, Mac, this is home sweet home. What do you think?" "I'm impressed, Methos. I presume that this is your ship, as well?" he asked as the older man sauntered over towards what appeared to be a food cupboard. He opened a door, muttered a few words, and a pair of cold beers appeared on an empty shelf. "That it is, Highlander," he responded with uncharacteristic good humor as he tossed the younger man a bottle. "Have a beer." Duncan drank gratefully. "Nice set-up. I'm really impressed with the cloaking and projections. Does it come with a guest room?" "Sure thing. Down that hall, second door on your left. Why don't you make yourself and sack out for awhile. You've got to be tired after all that's happened. You also need new clothes, and you can't go into town looking like that." Methos gestured to Mac's bloody leggings and too-small borrowed tunic. "I'll be back in a couple of hours. Feel free to replicate yourself something to eat if you want. There's native produce in the cupboard if you prefer. And the stream's about three hundred yards east of here if you're really feeling enterprising and want to catch some fish. I'll tell the Kats to let you sleep." Duncan couldn't get a word in edgewise, so he let Methos' nervous chatter fill the silence, and the normally morose man whirled out the door, pack in hand, striding rapidly toward the south. He chuckled, shook his head, then took his case and sword and found the guest quarters. He flopped down to test the bed and was asleep in seconds. ...tbc... |