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Two Nights in Bucharest	By : SylverIce2 Category: G through L > Highlander Views: 2360 -:- 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.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of these characters.

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The weather was bitter-cold, and so was Methos' mood. His flight had been delayed
for four hours, and he'd had to spend the entire time trapped in the airport.
The snowy landscape that greeted him when his plane landed in Bucharest didn't
improve his outlook on Romania. At least, he thought, the hotel is
large, modern, and warm. Indeed, the JW Marriott Bucharest Grand Hotel was
posh luxury, fit even for the oldest of Immortals.
Even still, as he shoved his way through the crowd in the lobby towards check-in,
he unsuccessfully tried not to mutter to himself. "Bloody Scotsman. Northern
Romania? In winter? What the bloody hell was he bloody well thinking?" Coming
up to the desk, he growled at the young man behind the counter. "Reservation
for Pierson."
"Yes,sir. You're in one of the Presidential Suites, with a Mr. MacLeod." Paperwork
was pushed towards Methos, and he signed haphazardly, after making sure that
everything was being charged to MacLeod's credit card. I'm not paying for
this hellish vacation, that's for sure. "Can we bring your bags up to your
rooms? I assume from sir's tuxedo that he is planning to join the party?"
"Yes,that'd be great. I have to go and find my idiot friend." Methos shoved
his bags at the bellhop, handed the boy five bucks American,and stalked away
to find the Grand Ballroom.
He paused briefly outside the wide double doors to straighten his tie,and then
he stepped into the fray. He found Duncan MacLeod standing near the small stage
with a handsome, heavily-muscled young man."MacLeod." The hint of anger in the
normally controlled Immortal's voice made Duncan jump guiltily.
Obviously deciding to brazen it out, the Scotsman smiled widely and slapped
Methos on the back. "Meth-uh, Adam Pierson! Meet Victor Krum. He plays some
kind of sport up in Bulgaria. He's here visiting with some friends of his while
he plays in a type of conference game."
The young man's scowl never changed, even as he nodded at Methos."Pleased to
make your acquaintance," he carefully said in English, even though Duncan had
been speaking Romanian.
"Charmed, I'm sure." He replied in Bulgarian, part of him pleased to seethe
surprise that flashed in the boy's eyes. "MacLeod, would you care to explain
why the bloody hell you made me come here, instead of my very nice villa in
Bora Bora for this ridiculous holiday?"
"New Year's isn't ridiculous." MacLeod glanced over at the stage,ignoring Methos'
pout. "What did you say the name of this band was?"
"I didn't." Victor glowered handsomely into his drink, ignoring the crowd of
partiers. He was clearly not thrilled about being at this event.
"Think that girl is with them?"
"What girl?" Duncan's gaze raked across the crowd.
"The brunette." Methos nodded towards the girl he'd seen, standing close to
the front of the stage. "The keyboardist keeps smiling at her." They watched
the band for a minute, and then Methos sighed. "Since I'm not going to be able
to leave now, do they at least have beer in this place?"
"I'm sure they do. Although I doubt that it's up to your standards."Duncan
slid his hand around Methos' wrist, his fingers cool from the drink he'd been
holding. "It was nice meeting you, Victor. Hopefully we'll catch up with you
later." The boy nodded,grunting in acknowledgment.
Methos waited until they'd gotten to the bar in the far corner to say anything
else. "Your new friend is a wizard."
"A what?" Duncan stopped short, Methos stepping around him swiftly to avoid
a collision.
"I'll have a Weihenstephaner." Shooting a charming smile at the girl tending
bar, he waved a hand at MacLeod. "A wizard. Wand-waver,magician, sorcerer. Whatever.
I saw his wand in his back pocket. I bet he's the Krum from the Bulgarian Quidditch
team."
"Magic? Quidditch? I thought he played football." Duncan glanced from his sober
friend to his own alcoholic drink, and finally slammed back the last of the
liquor. "You're babbling."
"No,I'm not. The Watchers have had ties to the Wizarding World for about fifty
years now. And I've known about it for centuries. You should know about this,
too, since you know Cassandra, don't you?"Methos drank the beer that was handed
to him, nodding at the flavor."I'll need another one of these." He finished
in one long chug and set the empty Pilsner down. When the bartender returned
with a full glass, Methos tipped her a five and pulled MacLeod back into the
crowd.
"I just wanted us to have a nice holiday."
"And I just wanted to be warm." He pushed Duncan into the hallway,away from
the crush of drunken revelers. "I'm all for drunken revelry, but I prefer to
do it in the comfort of my own beach-front villa. You drive me to Bedlam, MacLeod.
You disappear. You come back when you need my help. You disappear again. And
now this. Join me in Romania, you say. For New Year's Eve, you say. It'll be
fun, you say." He sipped the beer as they walked towards the elevators."I'd
almost say you'd missed me."
Duncan was silent as they waited for the elevator. "I think I might."The doors
slid open, and they fought briefly over who was going to hit the button, slapping
one another's fingers away.
Two other men had followed them into the elevator, and the brown-haired one
sighed, pushed both Duncan and Methos out of the way, and pressed the 10 button.
Barely noticing this, both Immortals were staring at the black-haired man. Methos
looked up; only the fourth floor. No escape. He edged behind MacLeod,
who smiled at the stranger.
"Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod." He held his hand out, the other man shaking
it as Methos hissed into his human shield's ear, "They're wizards too."
"Sirius Black. This is my - uh - Remus Lupin." The crooked grin was a little
sheepish as Remus elbowed him.
"Pleased to meet you." His voice was soft, reserved.
Methos nodded at them when Duncan elbowed him. "Adam Pierson."
"Is that hefeweizan?" Sirius' eyes lit up at the beer.
"Weihenstephaner. It's the only civilized beer they had." Methos grinned, and
the two launched into a lengthy discussion about the bar's shortcomings.
"Want to come in for a drink?" Duncan's smile made the quiet younger man smile
back.
"I doubt we'd be able to pry those two apart. That would be lovely."Remus towed
Sirius behind him as he followed Duncan, who was pulling Methos similarly. "You're
Scottish?"
"Born and raised in Glenfiddich. Though I haven't been back in years."
"I have family from that area." Amber eyes sparked with questions,and Duncan
fumbled with the hotel key card. "Maybe we know some of the same people."
"Oh,I wouldn't go that far. After all, it's been a long time for me, and I
didn't know many people in the first place." Duncan laughed uncomfortably, ushering
everyone into the hotel suite.
Sirius broke off his tirade about weak ale, holding a hand up to pause Methos
from saying anything. "I say, is it all right if I borrow your phone? I need
to make sure my godson isn't off wandering."He picked the receiver up when Methos
gestured expansively towards it, and dialed a room number. "Harry? What's that
noise?" A pause, and a slightly-panicked look. "Merlin's beard, boy,just...oh,
don't do that. Order from room service." Sirius knuckled his eyes, sighing,
as he waited. "I promise, if it says that it is, it is. The cake is vegan. I
think. I'm almost positive. That's good enough, right, Hermione?" Raking the
hair out of his face, he nodded. "Just...just keep them all in that room. Moony
and I will be back in a few hours."
"Kids all right?" Remus lounged on one of the couches; Methos and Duncan carefully
taking armchairs across from him.
"They should be fine. Although my nerves will never be the same. I swear, Moony,
we are never taking the kids on holiday again." Sirius dropped onto the couch
next to Remus, tipping his head back and covering his eyes with his arms dramatically.
"You've got kids?" Methos finished his second Weihenstephaner and put the glass
on one of the nice tables, only remembering a coaster after catching Duncan
glaring at him.
"My godson and his friends. They wanted us to come along, have a real vacation
after all of the events of the past few years are over."
"They know a Bulgarian athlete who is here for a conference." Remus patted
Sirius' shoulder. "Poor Padfoot. Imagine having to teach those little heathens."
Glancing at MacLeod, the brown-haired man smiled again. "The kids went to school
in Scotland."
Methos shook his head. "This is ridiculous." He snorted when the other three
turned practiced looks of confused innocence at him. "Lay it out on the table,
boys. I know for a fact that you two are wizards. And I am willing to bet that
you, Sirius, felt something very strange in your head when you caught us in
that elevator."
Sirius never moved a muscle, but Remus tensed. "I suppose I did. And I bet
that you know what it was? Just as you know about us being wizards?"
"Of course." Methos grinned. "I, after all, am one as well. So's MacLeod here."
Remus relaxed at those words.
"I didn't realize you were wizards as well." Puzzlement creased the quiet man's
forehead. "That would explain those stories...."
"No,we're not wizards." Duncan picked up the room service menu, to give his
hands something to do. "We're Immortals. You really are from that area, if you
know the old legends about the men who came back from the dead."
"Ihad a distant cousin who lived in Glenfiddich, and she told me once about
how she thought the legends were true. Her theory was that you were both wizards,
but even so, you shouldn't have still been alive in our day." Remus's hand tightened
on the leg of his slacks,and Sirius covered it with his own hand.
"He's one of us too." Methos pointed a thumb at Sirius. "That's the weird feeling
- you were recognizing us as Immortals."
"How am I one of you?" Sirius' gaze was sharp, questions seeking answers hidden
in his silver-grey eyes.
"Have any deathly experiences lately?" The oldest Immortal lounged back in
his seat. "I want another Weihenstephaner, if you're calling room service, MacLeod."
"Me too. And Moony, what did you say your favorite wine vintage was again?"
"The 2006 Lewis Napa Valley Merlot. And I know that that is entirely too complex
for you to remember."
"I remember that you like it cause it tastes a little like chocolate."A proud
grin was on Sirius' face at the surprise on his friend's. Duncan was busy calling
the order in, while Methos watched the byplay between the two men. "I remember
lots of things about you, Moony."
"Mm."Remus shook his head, a tiny smile on his lips. Sobering, he looked at
Methos. "Sirius was hit with a curse a few years ago. But I assumed he was just
unconscious."
"I was out for a good twenty minutes or so. Missed the end of the battle and
everything." Remus had turned his hand over, gripping Sirius' so hard that his
knuckles turned pale. "S'ok, Moony. I'm fine now. And, uh, apparently Immortal."
"I knew you'd end up finding a way to cheat on me." The words spilled out of
Remus' mouth, and he clapped his free hand across his face, turning red, as
Methos and Duncan both chuckled. "Oh, bloody hell."
"S'ok. I think they figured us out, possibly from the way you're clinging tome.
I get the feeling, however, that they might be harboring the same secret." Laughing
silver eyes glanced around the single room,and the many, many suitcases piled
in the corner.
"Damn,MacLeod, they've found us out." Methos laughed, a harsh bitter bark.
"Though I'm sure they've got more of a relationship than we do, since you keep
running away."
"I don't run away." Duncan glared at everyone. "I...tactfully retreat."
"And I'm not going to ever cheat on you, Remus. I swear. We'll find away."
"What,are you going to drag me out and make a vampire bite me? I think being
a werewolf is quite enough, thank you."
"A werewolf wizard, an Immortal wizard, an Immortal Scottish clan leader, and
me...we are officially the weirdest group in the country." Methos laughed again,
more naturally, and rose at the knock on the door.
"The service really is good here, I'll give you that, MacLeod. Though it's
still entirely too cold."
"Oh,I'm sure that he'll keep you warm at night." Sirius wrapped an arm around
Remus. "This one is a right furnace."
"He might be warm, but so is Bora Bora. And there's swimming in Bora Bora."
The lecherous grin Methos shared with the room made his thoughts very clear.
Duncan had the grace to look somewhat embarrassed, but steadfastly refused to
blush. "Eat, drink, and be merry."
"Though,hopefully, tomorrow we won't die." Remus chuckled softly as he sipped
his wine.
"Tomorrow we have to go and watch the Quidditch game with the kids." The dark-haired
Animagus shrugged a shoulder at the two Immortals. "If you're interested, we
could pick up extra tickets from Krum. This should be an interesting conference,
as it's the first time they've attempted to run teams put together with players
from all over the world."
"As long as it's not early, as I plan on drinking my way to thinking that Bucharest
is Bora Bora." Methos raised his glass, and took a long swallow. "What do you
think, MacLeod?"
"Sounds good to me, although we do have tickets to see Hamlet."Duncan
stretched back in his chair, thinking. "If you're going to be in town long enough,
I could pick up more tickets and switch ours to the night after, and we could
all go."
"We'll be around." Sirius was savoring his beer, a look of pure bliss on his
face. "This is the first good beer I've found in this godforsaken country. Thank
you very much for sharing the secret."
Methos was too busy drinking to do anything but nod. Duncan was already on
the phone, trying to get a hold of the concierge to have them handle the ticket
problems. As soon as Methos' glass was empty, he grabbed the other extension
and ordered more alcohol, hoping to not have to find the phone again once blasted.
Duncan hung up, grinning. "We've won. Hamlet on January second. Dinner
reservations before, as well, so that the kids won't be hungry."
"Thank you. That's very kind." There was surprise on Remus' face, and Duncan
laughed.
"Just because the legends painted us as men possessed by Satan, doesn't mean
we are. I had a protege about the age of your godson. He was a bottomless pit."
Sadness shadowed Duncan's chocolate brown eyes,but Methos landed on his shoulders,
leering.
"Alcohol's on the way up. Lots of it. Enough that we could possibly constitute
a Roman drinking party."
"You would know."
"How old are you both, exactly?"
"Oh,no. Run! Moony has that look of academic interest on his face. He'll be
writing papers about Immortality next." Sirius took another elbow in the stomach,
oofing out a breath.
MacLeod's expression didn't falter. "I'm four hundred and...hmm...twenty-one,
now."
"What about you, Adam?"
Methos tilted his head, thinking. The two men didn't seem threatening, and
he could see that Duncan liked them. He gestured with his glass, a dramatic
flourish. "I, my good sirs, am the legendary oldest immortal, Methos, and am
nearly six thousand years old."
"Merlin's beard." Sirius' breath whooshed out in amazement. "When you say Immortal,
you mean it."
"Indeed. Though you have to be careful to keep your head. You know how to fight
with a sword, right?"
"I had some fencing lessons. Toujours pur, after all. Have to have that
classical education." The bitterness was finally starting to fade from Sirius,
though the sardonic twist to the family motto still lingered.
"That's good. You'll need that. If you want, Duncan can train you."Methos nodded
his head wisely. "He's very good."
"What about you?" Duncan shoved Methos off, making the other man sit down in
his own chair again.
"Me? I haven't picked a sword up in centuries." Methos grinned. "It's clearly
much easier to have my dear MacLeod fight my battles for me. Chivalry, and all
that rot."
Room service arrived then, with a cart loaded with alcohol. Methos tipped the
young woman, whose eyes were wide at the sight of the four men lounging around
the room, and gently pushed her back out into the hallway after wheeling the
cart in.
"Lovely. This should keep us going." He moved the drinks closer, and they settled
in for some serious drinking. Conversation turned to lighter topics; places
they'd all been, things to do in Bucharest, even the four young people that
accompanied Sirius and Remus. Tuxedos were pulled apart over time, jackets and
ties being strewn about the living room area.
It was nearly four in the morning when Duncan fell asleep on one of the beds.
Remus wasn't far behind him, drifting off on the couch, his head in Sirius'
lap. Methos and Sirius sat together in silence,sipping their alcohol. Finally,
Sirius shook Remus awake. "We've got to get back, or Harry will worry."
"Sounds good. We'll meet you in the lobby at three, then?" Methos raised his
glass in salute of his new friends, not bothering to stand.
"Three. Right. Quidditch. It'll be interesting." Sirius draped Remus' arm over
his shoulders and wrapped an arm around the thinner man's waist. They maneuvered
out into the hallway, waving goodbye as the door shut.
Methos sat in the chair, his eyes closed, for a long time as he finished his
last glass. Rising, he pulled off his tuxedo shirt and pants, sliding into bed
next to Duncan. Snuggling under the covers next to the younger man, he sighed
contentedly. This, Methos thought as he fell asleep, wasn't such a
bad holiday after all.

Remus woke up, his mouth feeling like a dry sock. He held very still,trying
to decide whether it was safe to move his head. Sirius came into view, leaning
over him cheerfully. �Pepper-Up Potion, Moony?�
�Sweet Hestia, yes.� Moving carefully, the werewolf sat up and accepted the
glass of potion from his lover. The liquid burned down his throat and exploded
through his stomach and into his veins. �How are the kids?� Though, really,
they're much too old now to be called kids.
�I sent them down to make mischief at lunch. They'll meet us in the lobby to
PortKey over to the match.� The AniMagus sprawled across Remus' legs, snuggling
into his side, smelling faintly of liquor,potion, and dog.
�Did last night really happen?� A tiny frown line marred his forehead as Remus
settled back into his pillows. An undignified snort sounded from the vicinity
of his hip, where Sirius' face was buried.
�I'm assuming it's all true. Let's hope, as I already left a message for Krum
about two more tickets.� Rolling to his back, black hair cascaded out of his
face and across the sheets. �I'm a bit worried about this Immortality thing,
however.�
�It's nice to meet another couple, though.�
�I just wish there was a guidebook.�
�A Thousand Things To Do When You're a Gay Wizard?� The werewolfreceived a
punch to the stomach, for once, Sirius laughing quietly.
�Git.�Said lovingly, right before Sirius forewent staring at the ceiling for
pressing kisses across pale skin and raised scars. �It's be more like What to
do in Bucharest When You're a Gay Immortal Wizard with a Werewolf Wizard Boyfriend.�
�No,that's entirely too long.� One long finger tapped against his chin,even
as his breath hitched slightly at the contact with Sirius' lips.�Maybe...Immortal
Wizards and Werewolves for Dummies?�
�We're bloody mad, Moony.�
�But doesn't it feel like school again? We all used to do games like this on
mornings after.� A pause.
�Usually because we were too hungover to play pranks, and couldn't get our
hands on any potions.�
�At least Harry was a good student.�
�Sirius,he dropped out of Hogwarts to wage war single-handedly.� The tone of
professorial disgust made Sirius freeze.
�He went back to school after he won! That counts, right? I mean, if any of
us had done that, you'd have been the only one to go back.� He stared pitifully
at the other man. �I'm not going to get any this morning, am I?�
�The signs point to no. Though if you'd like to help me into a shower....�Amber
eyes and scarred features wore a look of profound resignation as the excitable
AniMagus whooped and leapt off of the bed to scoop him up.

Four rooms over, Methos was leaning over Duncan. �MacLeod? How can you possibly
have a hangover? You didn't even finish the bottle.�
Cracking one eye open, the Scotsman glared balefully at the entirely too cheerful
Immortal. �Some o' us aren't made o' cast iron.� His brogue was thick, his voice
rough as sandpaper.
�And some of us are whiners. I ordered breakfast, Mr. Low Tolerance Highlander
whose ancestors are ashamed.�
�What ancestors?� Duncan sat up slowly, stretching and rolling out of bed to
begin a series of kata. Already, the foggy headache was fading away. Methos
lounged on the rumpled bed, shamelessly watching.
�Well,I'm sure Conner has some disgust going on. He held his liquor like a
man.� The oldest Immortal ignored the look of pain in MacLeod's eyes at the
mention of his deceased mentor. Better for him to finally accept and move
on. It's been five years. Duncan made a rude hand gesture, sliding gracefully
into another form. �As much as I enjoy the show, you'd better get ready. We're
due to meet up with our new wizardly friends in four hours, and I know how long
it takes you to get ready.�
�At least I shower. All you do is put a grody sweater on.� Duncan took off
running towards the bathroom as Methos lunged after him cat-quick, laughter
ringing through the suite.
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Two Nights in Bucharest