Title: Call Him Mother Jones
Author: Laure
Rating: PG13 for a bit of language
Warning: Total Mary Suism but I got everyone in...I think
Warning 2: I haven't done this in years, written HSU, I mean, so if it sucks, blame my crappy muses
Warning 3: I haven't read all the recent fics so if anything is jarring, let me know. Set nowish.
Disclaimer:Blah blah whatever else goes in these headers

Ushering the last of her EAs into her office for the weekly EA Meeting, Laure flashed Cicero a hopeful smile. "What's the warning signal?"

Not looking up from World of Warcraft, Cicero loudly repeated the same thing he said every week, "I'll see if Laure's available, your majesty."

"Good, good."

As Laure closed the door, Cicero snorted, clicked the mouse to accept the treasure his minions had won for him, and thought--as he did every week--that it was more likely the Rat Bastard would ignore him completely until he ushered his challenge to the man who had him executed, which he also would ignore.

Whatever. It would give his boss time to toss her men out the window onto the trellises conveniently nailed outside. That they were covered with thorny roses was a source of endless amusement to the rest of the campus.

As were the pictures of scrambling, bleeding men--often half-naked ones--that adorned most of the walls of shame in this place.

*****

Laure perched in her extra-comfy desk chair and smiled at her men, counting them surreptitiously. Five. No, six. She still wasn't sure how Severus had ended up here.

Not that she was complaining.

And he'd better not be.

"Okay, so remember to pick up your schedules from Cicero on your way out. Well, if you get to leave by the door this week. If not, I'll send Cal around with them. Okay, not Cal. One of Darry's kids. She owes me a favor or five."

"Not Potter," growled a sophisticated, sensuous English voice.

"Which one's Potter?" Spike asked. "The runty one or the mini-me?"

"Malfoys are not errand boys."

"Oh, right, the blond brat's Malfoy senior's spawn."

Seeing this was degenerating quickly, Laure broke into the battle of Englishmen...well...two of her Englishmen, "Cedric. I'll send Cedric. Anyone have any complaints about him?"

"Hair's kind of floppy," Sawyer said just to make trouble.

Glowering him into shutting up, Laure continued, "It's moot. You're going out the door. Commo's golfing with Palpatine and they always go to Hooters afterwards. He's gone for at least another hour."

"Heard that one before," Norrington muttered to the room at large, eyes fixed on the nearest window.

"Anyway!" The muttering ceased and Laure took a deep breath. "Anyone have any problems or issues we need to address?"

Thirty-five minutes later, regretting every minute of it, Laure rubbed her aching temples and wondered, as she always did at these meetings, whether it was too late to be Grateful. Finally, the men shut up, led, as always, by Aragorn, her peacemaker with a really big sword.

"Okay, one last thing. The Ho's are going to Vegas...sometime. Not sure when. Kendra just got back after making sure we're all allowed in the city limits, but..."

"What is Vegas?" Guy, the new to modern times EA asked.

"Y'know the casino in the pyramid?" At Guy's nod, Sawyer continued, "Think of a city made of those, but each one is like twenty times bigger."

Guy's eyes got twenty times bigger. 'And what does one do there?"

"Get lapdances and gamble and drink till you puke."

Laure glowered at Spike. "Lapdances?"

He grinned back unrepentantly.

"Whatever. It doesn't matter. I just mentioned it because I'll be taking Commo and..." The uproar made her head hurt again until finally Aragorn broke through with a firmly asked question.

"Why does he get to go?"

"Um...he thinks he owns Caesar's Palace."

"That's not an answer."

Laure began to flounder. Aragorn never questioned her! "Um, well, I can't leave him here, and I can't take any of you with us because..."

"We're tired of hiding from that pissant," Norrington snapped, sounding very commodorish.

"He hides behind an army. I led one," Sir Guy announced.

"As did I."

"Stop it," Laure hissed at Aragorn.

"I've been here longer than any of you. I'm sick of the idiot believing I'm the English poetry teacher," Spike added.

"And I'm sick of living on the beach."

"Ditto," Norrington chimed in.

"I don't care one way or the other," Severus muttered, reclining back on the couch and watching the others becoming entertainingly agitated.

"What the hell do you expect me to do?" Laure finally yelled through their growing and imaginative complaints.

"Tell him," came back pretty much universally and left her gasping in shock.

Then she got mad. "Forget it! I have a good thing going here. He doesn't go psychotic on all of us and he treats me like a queen."

"Queen my ass." Spike turned to the others. "How come he gets the comfy bed and that huge bath? How come I sleep in the basement?"

"I sleep in a freaking tent!"

"As do I!"

"A treehouse," the two woodsmen added simultaneously.

"I have a very comfortable bed at Hogwarts. Perhaps you all should seek gainful employment elsewhere."

"You're not helping, Severus!"

He smirked at her and straightened his cuffs, then rose to his feet. "I have no issues with your desire for secrecy from the cretin."

"Roman," Sawyer snorted.

"Or your preference for him. I have a busy life outside of our dalliance and I have a class in ten minutes. I shall see you according to your schedule." Suddenly Severus was across the room and leaning over Laure's desk, hands braced on the marble top, dark, sexy look on his face, "Or whenever I choose." Then, in a rustle of coat, he was gone, leaving her panting.

"Geez, where'd you get that guy?"

"And, why?"

"He does have a point. Why should we be bound to Laure's schedule? As it is, we barely get a couple of hours a week with her."

All the men looked at Spike, then back at Laure.

"Huh? Wait a second!"

"The idiot spends every night with her! What did he do to deserve that except be the first one she *censored*."

Laure turned bright red and debated throwing her shoe at Spike's head, but that usually just turned him on. "He thinks he's my one and only and he's going to keep thinking that."

"Why? He isn't going to firebomb the place. No one is going to avenge his honor. No one is going to back any attack he thinks he can get away with. He isn't even going to leave you. Where the hell would he go? I have sand in places no man should ever have sand and I'm over it. There are seven of us. We should each get twenty four hours straight with you."

The nodding in agreement to Sawyer's suggestions degenerated into frowns of confusion.

"I am not certain any man needs a woman for twenty four straight hours," Sir Guy said, then winced at the look Laure shot him. "I do have a job!"

They all--even Aragorn--laughed at that silly protest from the so-called Mediator.

"I'm not telling Commo anything and you're going to go out and get your schedules and be grateful you get what you get, got it?!"

"I think we should go on strike."

"What's a strike?" Aragorn asked Sawyer who made the suggestion.

"Do we get to hit the pissant?"

"Strike. I like it. We'll just lounge around in the pub all day. That Judy keeps good blood on tap."

"You already lounge around in the pub all day!"

"Well, can't exactly go to the beach, can I, luv."

"I'd like to get off the beach." Norrington nodded to Sawyer. "If I have to dig another hole searching for treasure or Sparrow's blasted rum, I may end up killing someone important around here."

"I'm not sure there is anyone important around here," Spike muttered.

"Hey!"

Ignoring Laure they all gathered in a circle and yammered about signs and protests and marching and singing and...

"I'LL SEE IF LAURE'S AVAILABLE, YOUR MAJESTY."

"SHIT!"

As one, the EAs ran for the windows where there was the usual pushing and shoving Keystone Cop capers before they clamored over the sills, Spike grabbing his blankie on the way out and glaring at Laure.

She watched in nervous apprehension as the last fingers disappeared, then rose and slammed shut the windows just as Commo strolled in.

"Hooters was cancelled, my dearest. There was a fire."

Of course there was. Laure smiled in welcome.

Inside she was seething.

Stupid men.

*****

At the noise coming through the patio doors, Judy looked up from her inspection of Kendra's bar polishing skills to see one, no two, no three, okay five of Laure's seven EAs trooping into her pub to join the regular malingerers. It was unusual for some of them to ever be seen inside, let alone in her pub, so she made note of the odd occurrence and started a tab.

"There's no smoking in here."

Spike put out his hair with a hard pat of his hand, then tossed his smoldering blankie back out the door and retreated to the corner farthest from any natural light.

"Ales all around, barkeep," Sir Guy ordered as he joined Spike.

At Judy's Ho glare, Aragorn hurried over to the bar, careful not to touch it, and murmured, "He's new, Miss Judy, but we would appreciate some ale and perhaps some of those cheesy poofs."

"Sure. Hard day at the office?" It was eleven in the morning, but you never knew what hours people kept around here. "Kendra, break out a new bag of cheesy poofs." Judy handed the Ranger a stack of coasters and gave him a raised eyebrow.'

He bowed slightly. "No need for a second warning, Miss Judy." He still had a dent in his head from the first time he failed to use a coaster and she'd whanged one at him.

As she pulled drafts of beer--ale, what did they think this was, a Ren Faire?--she watched all six men attempt to sit around a table AND keep their backs to the wall.

It was kind of amusing.

"You usually don't see Aragorn in here during the day, or Sawyer or the Commodore here at all," Kendra said as she switched on the radio then frowned at the sound of static. "Isn't Aragorn supposed to be on the air about now with his Orc reports?"

"Be grateful for small favors. He looks thirsty. They all look thirsty, and like they're up to something." The bartender handed her Padawan a tray of full glasses. "Find out what."

A few minutes later Kendra returned with an empty tray. "They're arguing over who's making signs."

"Signs for what?"

Kendra shrugged and then her Elf slipped in, looking furtively around for Emmy who was planning his Easter costume, and her attention drifted.

Judy had an inventory appointment with the General in five minutes so her attention really couldn't be bothered with Laure's men any longer.

*****

Tapping the screen of her iPhone, Laure pulled up the calendar as she headed for her assistant's desk with a 'be back in a minute,' thrown over her shoulder to Commo. "Okay, as this thing is synching, what's on the schedule for the rest of the day?"

Cicero dutifully if slowly switched his screen from his game to the mobile.me calendar and threatened it in Latin when it insisted on refreshing as it did every time he opened the damn thing.¹ "A two hour lunch with the General at twelve thirty, then several hours in Dande's salon for the full treatment. That's at two thirty so you'll need to cut your lunch short by however long it will take you to get dressed and over to the cottage." He purposefully ignored her glare and scrolled down. "At five thirty you're meeting my wife in the Pub for before dinner drinks and gossip, then you have a six o'clock dinner meeting with Lorne to discuss his plans for youtube videos. Oh, and a new item. You have to meet with Jael at the casino around nineish as you haven't paid your very large cookie bill and Tavington is threatening to go after non-payers sword drawn and everything so she wanted to give you a head's up. Her words exactly."

"I didn't buy any cookies. You know I only eat freshly baked white chocolate macadamia nut cookies that I have flown in weekly from New York City's finest bakery."

Cicero shrugged.

Laure scowled at the newly filled screen of her phone. "Remember to send the weekly schedules out by this evening. Use Cedric. No one objects to him and he's reliable enough to get the job done."

"Will do. If he's not moping about being dead."

"Really, who hasn't been dead around here," she muttered as she returned to her office to get ready for her lunch, then stuck her head back out. "I have a breakfast horse-ride with Sir Guy at seven in the morning? Are you nuts?"

"Your emperor plans to review the troops at dawn. It's the only time I could squeeze the ride in and Sir Guy insisted on breakfast." "What troops?"

"That's what I said," Cicero muttered as he switched back to his game.

"Make sure you have Guy pack mimosas!"

*****

"And they actually threatened to strike!"

Dande tsked, more at the dark roots showing than at what Laure was complaining about. "Have another piece of fudge."

Laure stuck a piece in her mouth, chewing discontentedly. "They want me to tell Commo about them. Hell, my life would be so much easier if he knew, but..."

"You don't want to hurt his feelings."

"Yeah." She sighed then winced as Dande pulled on a tangle. "He truly believes he's my one and only."

"You have cultivated that belief," the Wench said diplomatically.

"It's easier to just let him be delusional. And it's kind of cute...sometimes." Laure sighed again and reached for another piece of fudge.

*****

"I mean, maybe I could spend a little more time with each of them, make it more even. I do tend to spend a lot of my spare time on the beach with Sawyer and James but that's because I like the beach."

Darry sucked an olive off her mini plastic sword. "Uh huh."

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah, your men are pissed at you because they have to sleep in sand, trees, and the basement, except for Snape who just doesn't care, and they want you to tell Commo the truth about them." She waved her empty martini glass in Judy's direction.

"Is that why your EAs were in here most of the day?" Judy passed the glass to Kendra.

"They were in here? Usually it's only Spike who spends his days in here."

"Yeah, here's their tab, by the way." The Bartender plunked a pile of receipts down in front of the Mediator.

Laure glanced through them. "Sheesh! They spent over two hundred dollars in one day?!"

"They were all pretty drunk when I finally kicked them out an hour ago."

"Even Aragorn?"

Judy nodded at Laure's surprised face and refilled her pina colada glass. "Yep. I've never seen the Ranger drink so much."

"I wondered why he wasn't on the radio all afternoon," Noe said as she slid onto the stool next to Darry. "I can't decide whether to dock his pay for missing work or give him a bonus for not forcing his hourly Orc reports on us."

As she handed the Nurse a fresh drink, Kendra said, "They're Orc slash Dalek reports now, thanks to the Doctor having a chat with him or so I overheard the other day while Legolas was visiting Aragorn and I was stalking him, I mean waiting for him."

"I'd like to see the Daleks go up against the Dean," Laure snickered into her glass. "One clunky shoe thrown their way with the PMS look and they'd be running in terror."

"More like floating away at moderate pace in terror," Noe chuckled.

*****

Around seven p.m., the Puff--not to be confused with the Wishpuff--headed out on his broom to make his rounds delivering notes to various men on campus. He used locator spells to find them quickly so he could get back to the Clinic for a rousing game of exploding snap--since the Nurse was off on some political junket for the evening--and was surprised to find all his targets together.

They were in the basement, in a dingy room smelling of cheap alcohol, those foul tobacccy sticks, and male sweat, as it was also the furnace room. They were gathered around a large table upon which were spread large pieces of cardboard, tins of paint, and parts of what looked suspiciously like the fence from the Cottage.

Cedric asked no questions, just did his job, and left as the men began to mutter.

He really didn't want to know.

*****

After wandering around the slots machines for ten minutes, wondering who designed these damn places as mazes, Laure spied Bond James Bond at the roulette table and headed that way. At least Jael was standing at his side and wasn't sprawled across the green felt for once.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Is it nineish already?" Jael looked at her non-existent watch, so, in actuality, her wrist, then smiled up at Bond and disengaged her arm from his. "I'll just be a minute. Warm up the empty craps table for me."

Laure rolled her eyes as she followed the Warrior Princess, who was no longer clad in leather and armor but a slinky cocktail dress, over to the bar. Imotep glowered at both of them then sank deeper onto his stool and his beer and muttered curses in Egyptian. Next to him, Lucius was doing the same only his curses were in wizard speak and weren't working either.

"The men are all really cranky today," Laure noted as she reached over the bar for a bottle of wine and a glass. At Jael's look, she grabbed a second glass.

"Hadn't noticed. Except that Sawyer wasn't on the beach when I went looking for him while you were getting your hair done."

"Why were you looking for Sawyer while I was getting my hair done?" Laure asked in suspicion.

"Because you were getting your hair done so you weren't on the beach."

"You had your snog already this week!"

"Your idiot emperor wants troops to inspect in the morning. If you want me to roust miners and the dregs of the Praetorian Guard out there at dawn, I get extra smoochies. So...you tell Sawyer I'll be by tomorrow afternoon and he better be there. Where was he anyway? He never leaves the beach."

"He was in the Pub, drinking. They all were."

"They who?"

"My EAs. Except for Sev who went back to Hogwarts to teach."

"Okay, weird, but whatever. Look, the real issue is I want to smooch Sawyer tomorrow. I'm giving you a freebie with the guard thing in the morning because we've got this tit for tat thing going and it works well for us, so don't disappoint me."

Laure rolled her eyes again and refilled their glasses. "Whatever. Now, what's this about cookies? I didn't buy any cookies." Jael pulled a long invoice from somewhere down the front of her dress and plopped it on the bar. "Looks like your men did."

"Three thousand four hundred and eighty-seven dollars for cookies?" the Mediator yelled.

"And twenty-one cents."

"Son of a bitch!"

*****

Like a dutiful emperor's concubine, Laure waved from her balcony as her toga-clad--black with the gold laurel wreath--emperor strode towards the parade grounds, more commonly known as the rugby pitch, then, yawning, returned to her room to dress, reminding herself to, again, have that little talk with her darling about the fact that she was not a freaking concubine.

It being six fifty five in the morning when she left her bedroom and headed through her office to her outer office, Cicero was, naturally not there, and she made another mental note to talk to him about being in his seat whenever her day began. If she had to be up at god-awful o'clock. He could be up.

If the Nurse got pissy...Hm...there was the purple lightning to consider. Maybe she'd make it a suggestion.

Upon entering the stables Laure was surprised to find it empty except for the dozing horses. It was seven o'clock on the dot.

Okay, seven oh eight, but that wasn't that late. Pulling her phone out of her pocket she checked for messages, then remembered that Sir Guy had no idea how to use a phone and Cicero was probably still asleep, damn him and the Nurse for good measure. Maybe he'd saddled the horses and was waiting outside the other end of the stables.

No, there was his horse and the one she always rode, both contentedly munching on straw and blinking lazily at her.

Confused, Laure went back the way she came then circled the stables. No Guy.

What the hell?

Glaring into the distance at the forest, Laure returned to the stables, saddled Rosebud(which wasn't a sled) and headed out for the treehouse. Sir Guy could walk back once she found him. He was throwing her whole day off and she'd be damned if she'd offer him a ride.

Well...if he was charming in his apology... Laure entered the forest and quickly reached the sprawling treehouse. She hadn't visited it in a while--her assignations with Aragorn usually took place at the radio station and Guy liked the meadow on the other side of the lake after a leisurely ride--but damn the thing had grown. What were they? The Swiss Family Robinson?

Or that Crusoe guy?² Hm...He was kind of cute and his father was already here...

No, no, no more men.³

Dismounting under a tree, Laure hollered up, "Guy, where the hell are you?"

A few minutes passed and as she opened her mouth to yell again, Aragorn's face appeared over a railing and he gave her a sad look. "Sir Guy regretfully⁴ informs you that he is on strike."

Laure gaped at him.

"We're all on strike."

More gaping.

Aragorn shrugged those large, currently naked shoulders, and disappeared again.

Shock turned to anger and Laure stomped around the trees trying to find a way up but all the ladders and the cute elevator were raised and she wasn't about to climb the damn things.

As she rode back the way she came, she tried to remember who had first suggested a strike.

He was so dead.

Sawyer.

Dead, dead, dead.

*****

The beach was deserted.

Well, not deserted, as Will and Jack were in their tents, but James and Sawyer were nowhere to be found.

Nudging Jack not so gently with the toe of her riding boot, Laure demanded, "Where are Norrington and Sawyer?"

"Dunno, luv. Will I do?"

She kicked sand on him in disgust and headed back to the stables.

*****

Later, showered, changed, still pissed off, Laure checked her calendar and found the next appointment was Spike in the unused poetry classroom, which was the only one that had any comfort to it as someone once had decided to throw a bunch of bean bag chairs and big cushions onto the floor during a beat poetry section.

Finding the classroom empty, she sank down onto a beanbag to wait and watched the little foam pellets explode out of a hole in the side.

After ten minutes, she gave up, brushed foam from her skirt, and stalked off towards the Dean's office.

"She's not in," Lucius stated as Laure sailed right past him and into the inner office.

"Are your men acting weird?"

Emmy glanced up from her morning chai and the current issue of Elle. "I don't have any men."

"Yeah, right. Are they acting weird?"

"Are you acting weird out there?" the Dean yelled at her PA.

He didn't dignify her question with a response.

"I had breakfast with Sirius. He thinks poptarts are nutritious but otherwise he seemed fine."

Silence fell. A page was flipped. A drink was sipped.

"Don't you want to know why I asked?"

"Not particularly."

Laure shuffled her feet for a moment then blurted out, "I think my men are on strike."

Emmy looked up then snorted. "I told you you're harem was too big."

"I have a weakness for bad boys!"

"Yeah, whatever. Deal with it. Don't let the General know. The usual rules." "The General doesn't care. The problem is Commo finding out. That's why they're striking."

"The Rat Bastard is one hundred percent your problem."

"I know it wasn't Severus who stuck his suit of armor to the floor of the pub, y'know!"

The Dean waved her hand at her and returned to her magazine.

"You are so frustrating!"

"It's her best quality," Lucius informed her as she strode back out of the office.

"I heard that!"

*****

Chasing down Sirius for his current shots, Ellie rounded the corner of the Admin Building and the sound of chanting mingling with the nattering complaints of the ewok gardeners filled her ears. Outside the main entrance a group of men were walking around in a circle, each one carrying a hand-painted sign. One proclaimed 'Equal Rights for Eas' and another 'The Rat Bastard Gets All The Good Appointments' and a third 'Even A Sociopath Needs A Bed'.

They were all Laure's men.

Well, there were four of them. As Ellie stopped to stare at them--and take pictures on her phone and laugh--she noticed that the door was open and the sound of chanting was coming from a lone man inside, one with platinum blond hair. His sign, which was sticking out the door, had red fangs drawn on it. Snape and Commo were missing--and since Commo was being referred to on at least one sign, she could understand why on that one and the less she had to see of Snape the better--but the sight was amusing enough to make her forget about her job for the moment...or the morning.

As they began to sing some dwarfish song of mining solidarity, led by Aragorn, the only one who looked at all remorseful, and not the one carrying the sociopath sign, Ellie began texting everyone she knew.

Within ten minutes nearly everyone on the campus was heading for the driveway outside the main doors.

All the Hos burst out laughing at the same moment.

Laure pushed her way to the front of the crowd and stared in horror at her men. Her mind went completely blank.

"Beloved, are your slaves causing difficulties? Shall I have them whipped or beheaded?"

Slowly, Commo's beloved turned around to face the earnest look on his face. "Commo, we have to talk." As she took his hand and led him away, Dorotea burst out of the front door, nearly setting Spike on fire and immediately jamming a large hat onto her head to keep herself from getting any color.

"What did I miss?!"

"Did we win?" Norrington asked his fellow strikers.

Sawyer shrugged and jammed his sign picket fence end down into the nearest rose bed. "Dunno, but I think we made our point, plus I gotta meet Jael on the beach in a few hours and don't you have a new hole to dig?"

"And I was informed that I have lost my wages for missing yesterday's work at the station, so I must get back, and apparently there is a new enemy, a creature called a Dalek for us to be wary of."

"Legolas and I are going hunting. With good luck we'll have fresh venison for dinner," Sir Guy added.

"And Passions is coming on soon," Spike yelled from inside the building before tossing his sign out. "Keep the signs. We may need them again."

Holding her daughter's hand, Dande made her way through the dwindling crowd towards the group of protesters and pointed to the signs. "You will be repairing my fence sometime today, yes?"

"Yes, ma'am," they all said together, heads hung in momentary shame.

"Except me, I'd catch on fire!"

Dande smiled sweetly at the contrite men, "Thank you!" and led Cara off to breakfast, the little girl skipping beside her mother and asking what a sociopath was.

"Well, that was entertaining for about ten minutes. How should we fill up the rest of the day?" Delphi asked.

Some boyish yelling from above drew the Nurse's attention. "Class is out!" She headed for the Quidditch arena, also known as the rugby pitch and sometimes the parade ground.

Emmy shrugged and joined her. "It's a nice day. Might as well watch some men get sweaty."

"I'll bring the traveling bar," Judy yelled as she gestured for Kendra to join her.

Spying Sirius in human form racing for his broom, Ellie gave up on shots for the day and strolled after the rest of the Ho's. "So, do you think she'll really tell the idiot?"

"Hell no," Delphi retorted.

Dorotea opened her umbella--black--against the sun. "Y'know, there was a time when Commo was shared by more than one Ho. You'd think he'd be more open to the idea. And, believe, me, I was there when he met Laure. He knew very well she wasn't some vestal virgin. And he's not that insane to believe otherwise. It's all an act."

"Really?" Noe asked, intrigued. "Then why does she put up with it?"

"It's a Wo thing. You really can't understand if you aren't one and even if you are, it doesn't make that much sense."

"Or you can go with it's just really boring around here sometimes so we all have little games we play," Ellie laughed, breaking away from the group as she spied Indy headed for the pyramid to do a little excavating.

Finally the only ones left in front of the admin building were the five EAs--one still hiding from the sun. As they congratulated each other--a little warily because they weren't completely certain congratulations were in order--a taxi pulled up. Out of it climbed a slender young man with dark hair, hazel eyes and a really big Roman nose. He wore jeans, a baggy sweater and a trench coat and looked confused.

"Who you looking for?" Sawyer asked as the taxi drove away.

The man looked at a card in his hand then at the gathered men. "Laure. This is the address she gave me."

"You poor, dumb bastard," Spike shouted from inside before peeking his face out.

The man's expression changed and he pulled a really big sword from his coat. "William, is that you?!"

"Methos, you owe me fifty guineas and a wench named Sally!"⁵

"Nice sword," Aragorn said in admiration.

"Oh, thanks. I've had it for a couple of hundred years. I prefer a broadsword over a saber, despite the weight."

"Another sword geek," Sawyer sighed and headed for the beach.

"I don't need to be on the radio for another hour. Join us for a pint in the Pub and tell us how you met Laure."

"Beer at nine in the morning? This is definitely the place for me."

"Methos is it?" Sir Guy asked, also admiring the sword.

"Call me Adam."

"Methos, I want my fifty guineas!"

Footnotes

The End