Redemption and Relapse (BTVS x-over) | By : LillianLuthor Category: G through L > Highlander Views: 4295 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander: The Series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title:
Redemption and relapse
Fandom:
x-over BTVS/Ats/HL
Pairing:
if you must know... Spike/Xander,
Methos/Richie, Willow/Tara, Giles/Joe
Rating: PG, pre-slash (at this point)
Author: Lillian Luthor
E-mail: isso_k@yahoo.com
Feedback: sure, I’m a bitch for it... I’ll even settle for flames if you have
nothing good to say
Archive: if you care enough to want it, you have it. just let me know, or
whatever...
Disclaimer:
they’re not mine, nothing this pretty has ever been mine... I’m just borrowing,
in an amateur and unprofitable kind of way.
The
Scoop: Methos decides to put some distance between him and the Highlander, and
takes a post as a European History teacher in Sunnydale
(¯`•.(¯`•.(¯`•. 1 .•´¯).•´¯).•´¯)
The
weather was just fine in Sunnydale, the immortal thought as he made his way
into the decadent little hotel that Adam Pierson could afford. Along the years
he had gotten so used to pretend to be penny-less that he actually didn’t even
consider to try and find a house for himself in this new town. His departure
from Seacouver had been rather rash, and he hadn’t even thought about living
arrangements. As a matter of fact, if he hadn’t gotten this job, he would have
probably gone anywhere just to get away from Mac.
The whole
Horsemen issue was supposedly discussed, understood and forgiven, but Methos
knew better after 5000 years. Mac had not forgotten, and probably not even
really forgiven him. Sure, they talked a lot, they visited each other, had some
beers together at Joe’s... last time Methos had shot him to keep him from a
fight, the Highlander hadn’t even been all that mad. But all the same. Something
was not right, not anymore, and whatever it was it made Methos feel awkward
around Mac.
With Joe
it was a whole different matter. Joe had forgiven him, he could tell without
doubts. After all, it was to be expected. They had been friends for a long
time, back at the watchers, and they understood each other better than he and
the Highlander ever could. Joe had not even been mad at him when he discovered
he was Methos! In fact, he had asked Joe to come and visit him as soon as he
got the chance, and Joe had been thrilled at the offer.
But for
now he was carefree and in a tourist mood. He knew Sunnydale was number one
spot for paranormal activities, and he found in that a wonderful opportunity to
polish his rather rusty knowledge on these kind of things. Back in the day, he
had found paranormal research very interesting, even more so because it made
him feel a little bit more normal. He had even been actively involved in
contention of paranormal forces. However, right now all he wished for was to
get reacquainted with the subject in a theoretical point of view, and stay as
much out of trouble as possible. That was his best attribute, perfected over
many centuries.
As for
now, he had his first class in about half an hour. He would barely have time to
drop his things at the hotel and head to campus. Later, he would have plenty of
time to nose around.
(¯`•.(¯`•.(¯`•. 2 .•´¯).•´¯).•´¯)
The class
was quite our of order, and as soon as Willow and her had entered the class
room, late already, they had realized the professor was not there yet. That had
brought a sigh of relief from Buffy, because it had been entirely her fault
that they were late, and Willow had been one step from a nervous breakdown when
she realized they would be late to their first European History class.
Buffy
didn’t even know why she was taking European History anyway, mostly she was
just following Will around, but it was never good to put up with Willow if she
got nervous. As soon as they were seated, the professor showed up.
At first
she, and everyone in the room she figured, had thought that he was just another
student taking care of the class until the real professor arrived. First,
because the man seemed way too young for a teacher, and second, because he was
wearing jeans and a casual white sweater, and he didn’t even carry any books or
papers. However, all doubts were dismissed when he sat on top of his desk and
introduced himself to the class;
"Sorry
I’m late. I’m Mr. Pierson, and I’ll be your European History nightmare for the
next semester" he said in a casual tone, as he stood up suddenly and
grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen from one of the students in the first row
"Since it’s late already, why don’t you all just pass this paper around
and sign your names, so I can know who’s present and who’s not" he
offered, signing the top of the page with the name of the class and his own
name, and handing it over to Willow, who sat next to Buffy in the first row as
well.
"And
now, let’s see..." he said as the paper started going around the class
room "Since you all have books and papers and I have none, where do you
think we should start?" for a minute he looked animatedly around the
class, and when nobody attempted to reply he just picked at random, pointing
his finger at Willow "You, redhead, where do we start?"
(¯`•.(¯`•.(¯`•. 3 .•´¯).•´¯).•´¯)
He should
have never left Oxford, he thought as he made his way back to the office they
had assigned him after his first class. During the whole class he had barely
managed to make a few of the students speak, and for the most not even
coherently. The redhead had been well informed yet too shy for his taste, but
he could work around that. And the blond bimbo of her friend, Gods, she had
dozed about a dozen times during his class!
He was
either becoming very old and boring, or these kids lacked all enthusiasm when
it came to ancient history. Which in the end came to the same; he was very old
already, and his class was actually like a grandfather telling his teenager
grandchildren about his youth. Of course, grandpa could not flunk them, and he
could, and would, so they better smart up in the next couple of classes.
He was
glad to put away those irritating thoughts as a smiling man dressed in classy
tweed approached him, and shook his hand in a warm greeting;
"You
must be Mr. Pierson, the new professor" he said friendly "I am Rupert
Giles, the librarian"
"A
pleasure, Rupert" he smiled back, instantly liking the fellow, specially
for the accent they shared "Call me Adam, please. I still have to get used
to the Mr. Pierson thing"
"Yes,
you are indeed quite young for a professor" the man conceded as he fixed
his glasses to scan him all the better "I see you are British as well... I
didn’t get that when they told me there would be a new member of this
faculty" he added, and then he momentarily looked away, and Adam noticed
it was to look at redhead and Blondie, who were both just exiting the class
room "Well, I am afraid I have pressing business at hand" the man apologized
"Maybe we can meet at the cafeteria later, have some coffee and discuss
the text books available..." he offered
"Sure,
Rupert. I’ll put some things together for my next class, and then I’ll meet you
there" he accepted thankful
With that,
the librarian shook his hand once more and headed towards the two girls, who
waited for him conveniently in the hallway, with a third girl who had just
joined them. Adam was somewhat interested to see them walk away together,
talking in an obviously familiar fashion, as he headed for his office.
Once
there, he was glad to find a message in his cell phone. It was from Joe, who
promised to meet him in Sunnydale in a couple of days. He would leave MacLeod
in charge of his bar, as the Highlander was quite free these days.
(¯`•.(¯`•.(¯`•. 4 .•´¯).•´¯).•´¯)
"So
what do you think about Mr. Pierson?" Giles asked as they headed for the
library
"Scary"
Buffy said at once "I don’t think he likes me... I dozed on him a couple
of times, and I don’t think he took it well... that, and the fact that I
spelled my own name wrong when I signed that stupid paper" she sighed,
then immediately justified herself "I was tired! All night slaying!"
"I
liked him, he seems to know a lot" Willow stated "But what kind of
teacher does not carry his books? It seemed like he just jumped off a plane and
landed there in class, and started improvising... and I was constant mark of
his improvisation! I don’t think I can take that much pressure..." she
sighed, resting her head upon Tara’s shoulder in search of emotional support
"You
can take it, sweetie... I’m sure he wouldn’t have asked you if he didn’t feel
you could follow him..." the girl tenderly replied as she tentatively
caressed the red head
"Yes,
well" Giles explained as they entered the library "For what I’ve seen
of his credentials, he’s fully capable... actually, it’s quite amazing for a
man of his age. I am sure you will find his classes thrilling as soon as he
gets used to Sunnydale"
"Yeah,
I bet" Buffy exclaimed little less than enthusiastic as she entered the
library the last, and closed the door behind her
(¯`•.(¯`•.(¯`•. 5 .•´¯).•´¯).•´¯)
Another
class, another sigh of frustration. Maybe it was just because it was the first
day, but suddenly Methos found himself thinking what was it that Mac found so
interesting about teaching nowadays. This time, he had had to force himself to
shut out a sarcastic reply as a four-eyed nerd had tried to correct him. <Hello?
I was there!> he had thought, and he had thanked the gods his sword was back
in his car, or he would have severed the boy’s head right there.
Well, at
least someone he liked here after all, he thought as he headed for the library.
Rupert had seemed an amiable person at first sight, and he surely didn’t look
like another of the half-brained idiots he had met all over the place. Besides
that, he had in immense curiosity as to why the man had left him so suddenly,
earlier that day, to go talk with redhead and bimbo.
As he
entered the library, to his surprise, he found it was empty. No one, nowhere. A
sad confirmation of his earlier statement: he should have stayed at
Oxford. However, as soon as he entered the librarian came to greet him, book in
hand, and that kept him from ruining his mood even more with thoughts of
disappointment.
"Oh,
Adam" the man at once smiled "I was just looking for some books you
might find interesting" he said, pointing at a table in which some five
books were piled up "It’s just the tip of the iceberg, but it might prove
useful for a start"
"Thanks,
Rupert" he said as he walked towards the pile, barely glancing at the
titles without showing much interest "I really don’t need these all that
much, you know. Mostly for psychological aid, since the students don’t seem to
be taking me all that seriously."
"Well,
you do look rather young..." Giles started, but was immediately
interrupted by Methos mocking chuckle
"This
is a funny one..." he mentioned, picking up one of the books "in this
volume, this guy thinks he’s got a revolutionary concept in his hands, and he’s
actually making a nearly one thousand years chronological slip..."
"Yes,
well, I think so too" Giles answered thrilled, walking closer to the other
man "You have a rather awesome knowledge for someone..." your age,
he was about to say, but immediately discarded it as potentially disrespectful
"Yes,
you too" Methos grinned, turning to face him "I’ll take this one with
me, if you don’t mind... I like the characterization it has on Bronze Age. It makes
it feel quite like... home" he grinned, and handed the book over to Giles
"Yes,
well. Would you care for some coffee?" the librarian politely said as he
handed the book back to the immortal "Just take it, bring it back when you
will"
"Thanks,
Rup" he answered appreciatively, heading for the door "I just
finished my day here, so I’m going to get a beer somewhere and go home... I’ll
accept that coffee tomorrow, if the offer is still standing"
"Certainly"
Giles replied, and with that Methos was gone
(¯`•.(¯`•.(¯`•. 6 .•´¯).•´¯).•´¯)
It had
been a hell of a day. Literally. All day long, locked in that house with that
idiotic Xander Harris, listening to his whining about Cordelia going to Los
Angeles, and about his guilt for making out with Willow and spoiling what he
had with the cheerleader. ‘Get over it, Harris, the one’s gone, and the other’s
a big fat lesbo’, he had said. And then it had started all over again, and this
time he had to put up with the boy’s stupid speculations about his reasons to
betray Angelus, and mocking comments about the time he almost married Buffy.
He asked
himself daily why was he staying at Xander’s. It had been a long time since he
had moved there. The chip in his head had been a traumatic experience and he
was still to get rid of it, but it was certainly time he regained his
independence. That much time spent with that moronic loser couldn’t be good for
someone’s integrity, not to mention reputation. And his had been damaged enough
already by betraying his supposed friends and joining forces with the Slayer.
The only
person with half a brain in this damn town was Buffy’s mother, and he couldn’t
even see her that much of late, because the slayer didn’t like him visiting her
mom. The little brat. He usually went during the weeks, when Buffy was staying
at the dorms, but somehow she always seemed to know when he had been there. Maybe
it was the cigarettes butts he left behind. He had thought it was the slayer’s
sister, but then he had come to realize the little one actually liked him. She
even let him snicker into the house when the slayer was at home for the
weekend, if he really had one of those emotional emergency he could only work
out with Joyce.
He would
have loved to go visit her now, come to think of it. All day long hearing
Xander’s verbal brooding had brought back memories of Angel to him, and boy,
had he hated the bastard! Everything had been so perfect between the four of
them, The Scourge of Europe, and then the moron had had to get himself cursed
with a soul and leave them behind. And then, from the moment Angelus had left
them, everything had just gotten worse and worse.
Darla had
at once left them as well, heading back to the welcoming arms of the master,
her sire. But he and Dru couldn’t go... he had heard Angelus complain about the
master for decades, and it didn’t seem tempting at all. So they had stayed in
the old world, wandering around, until Dru had almost gotten killed in Prague. So
they had headed for the States, trying to look for a cure for her, and thinking
of the master as the last resort.
The Master
had been already dead by then, as well as Darla, and that accursed Angel had
been in town, helping the current slayer. He had really hated soul-boy, but
then when he had lost the soul he had started hating him even more. You always
idealize the past that was somewhat good to you, true, but his memories of
Angelus were completely out of place. Why did he remember those as the good
times? He had always been an abusive bastard, that much granted, but somewhere
along the way Spike had stopped accepting to be abused. And of late, he had
even stopped enjoying to abuse others... well, make it ‘to abuse them much’.
Who knows?
Maybe he had started liking Xander to tell him of his problems, and Dawn to let
him snick into their house to talk to Joyce... Joyce always kept candy for him,
and had even bought an ashtray. And then there was the ex-demon girl, Anya. She
was really annoying, but she was relatively nice to him, as if she understood
the way he felt; maybe, when they took away her powers, she had felt the same
he had when they had chipped him.
And now,
listen to him! He just hoped nobody could ever tell what he was thinking at the
moment, or else his reputation would really be ruined. Since Joyce was
out of town buying some stuff for the gallery, his best shot was to get really
drunk and forget about all the crap that was going on in his mind. And for
that, maybe the Bronze would do. With luck, been a school day, none of the
scobbies would be there.
(¯`•.(¯`•.(¯`•. 7 .•´¯).•´¯).•´¯)
He should
have know better. This was a rather smaller town than he was used to. When he
had asked where he could go grab a beer, and the giggling teenager girls had
told him ‘The Bronze’, he should have known better than actually going. Now he
was surrounded by giggling teenagers, and a few of the older ones had
even dared to try and hit on him. Some were even cute, he would give them that,
but a one-night-stand with a teenager in a small town was not a good idea, and
putting up with them for longer than a night seemed too stressing.
He was
thinking of that, and scanning the room in the hope to find another adult, when
suddenly he noticed the person who had just taken a stool next to him at the
bar. Bleached blond, obviously not a teenager and not crazy about them either,
judging by the look on his face as the bartender handed him a beer. He knew
this man. He was trying to figure out who he was, when suddenly the man
stared at him with a raised eyebrow, and the thought just clicked in. Vampire.
"Like
what you see?" the vampire asked mockingly, and then Methos realized he
had been staring for quite a while.
"I
was just wondering how much bleach a person could stand without going
bald" Methos replied casually, as he asked for another beer and
congratulated himself for trying to annoy a vampire.
"Yeah,
at least I’m not wearing the sweater my grandma knitted" the vampire
hissed as he lit a cigarette. Much to Methos surprise, he offered him one
"Looking at the bright side, though, I don’t have to buy you booze
illegally" he added, putting away the cigarettes as Methos declined the
offer.
"I
take it you don’t like the legions of teens either" Methos commented,
hoping the vampire was old enough to give an interesting talk before trying to
kill him. In the worst of cases, death by vampire was not one of the ugliest
ways of dying, and it could even be enjoyable if you were in the mood. And he
really needed someone to talk to in this damn town, before he started
regretting to be here.
"Can’t
say I’m particularly fond of adolescents, given the fact that a group of them
has ruined my life more or less. I just can’t seem to make up my mind to leave
here..." he sighed.
Of
course you wouldn’t, this is the Hellmouth, Methos thought, but then the
expression on the blond vampire’s face made him think that his reasons for
staying were far more elaborate than just that. Given the fact that if the
vampire wanted to have him for dinner he had probably made up his mind already,
he did not care for discretion.
"So
why do you stay?" he asked interested, seeing if he could make a
conversation to make him pass the time
"One
could say I’m growing bloody attached..." the vampire chuckled, then grew
serious again "I used to have this family, we went together
everywhere, cared about nobody else..." he explained, looking intently at
Methos to see if he was listening "But then it all started to fall apart,
and slowly I started feeling uncomfortable with the things they did... one
could say I outgrew them, but somehow it felt like I was the wrong one. So I
sided with the ones that I knew would win, and have been siding with them ever
since" for a moment the vampire paused, giving his empty beer an absent
glance as he asked for another "Somewhere along the way, I think I started
growing used to them, you know, their silly habits, their stupid
morals..."
"So
you’re emotionally codependent" Methos stated matter-of-factly as he drank
and stared at the blonde, whose eyes were suddenly wide open at the hearing of
that "Yeah, well, don’t be ashamed... I’m here because I fear I’m growing
emotionally codependent myself..."
"It’s
not the same" the vampire interrupted
"You
have no idea..." Methos sighed, asking for yet another beer "You try
to please them, but somehow it’s never good enough, because whatever you did in
the past, will never be forgotten nor forgiven. So you work harder, but you
don’t want it to look like you’re trying to please them, so you keep up this
cynical personality that somehow keeps them far enough from you... or maybe you
just don’t want to admit that you’re tying to please them, because it would
make you feel like you’ve gone soft" for a moment he paused, and he saw
the vampire with a raise eyebrow, staring at him as if in shock "Point
here is, you always try to please the one who is so narrow-minded that could never
understand you, and instead take for granted the ones who get it. What you
should do, I know I will, is take the hand that’s offered and stop
reaching for the one that’s too dubious to hold you"
"What
are you, a bloody mind reader?" the vampire asked incredulous
"No,
sorry, I’m just a guy" Methos grinned. Truth was, however old the vampire
was, he was still a child. It showed. And it had taken Methos five millennia to
figure this much out, so he couldn’t really blame the other guy.
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