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Immortal X-part 2
Part two of Immortal X
"All right, I've sat here patiently letting you two get reacquainted with each other, but now I've gotta know: How can you be pregnant?" Joe said. "Putting aside the fact that you're both male, you're also Immortals. What's going on here?"
Ban turned to look at the mortal. He couldn't help the way his hand lowered to his stomach, resting lightly against where the bulge was going to develop. "Um, maybe Methos should explain this. My medical knowledge is sketchy at best, and besides, the old guy really likes to hear the sound of his own voice talking."
Methos batted him lightly on the back of his head. "Brat. For that, no foot rubs for you."
"Hey, pregnant mate here!" Ban called.
"Oh, all right," Methos said. "But you're not getting one for awhile. You still need to be punished."
"Jerk," Ban muttered, just low enough that Methos could pretend not to have heard it.
Methos looked at Joe, purposely sprawling himself across most of the couch in his usual position of lazy comfort. "I don't really know quite where to start, but I'll try to explain clearly." He glanced at Ban, who was sitting primly on his section of couch, studiously not looking at anyone. "Ban is a Breeder."
"What's that?" Duncan asked, his eyes flicking over to Ban before focusing on Methos.
Methos shrugged. "Breeders are Immortals that can either bear children or impregnate other Immortals. They rarely come into 'season,' but when they do... well, there aren't many of them anyway, and it doesn't happen all the time. They have to be at least five hundred when their cycles of fertility start, which means a lot of them are killed off before their bodies start producing the pheromone that makes even the most homicidal Immortal back off. And they don't develop their natural defenses until then either.
"At this time, there are only about five mature Breeders in the whole world. There may be some pre-Breeders, but they won't be active for awhile yet, and there's a pretty good chance they could all be killed off in the name of clearing the playing field for the Gathering. Which means that Ban is a precious commodity, to be protected at all cost. If all the Breeders die, well, then there really will end up being only one Immortal."
"Why haven't I ever heard of this?" Duncan asked.
"Yeah, and there's nothing about it in the chronicles either," Joe added.
Methos shook his head. "There wouldn't be. It's not something we really want to have recorded, and not many young Immortals know about it anyway." He looked at Duncan with something like sympathy. He knew how Duncan felt about children. "An Immortal has to be at least a thousand before they reach sexual maturity, and even then there's a good chance they will never be chosen by a Breeder." He licked his lips. "Breeders are drawn to the oldest, most powerful Immortal available when they come into season. Their instincts make them want to mate with someone that can protect them and the young, which translates to a nearly overpowering drive towards the oldest Immortals, those that have survived the Game and everything else."
"Don't forget the drive to find the best genetic material," Ban said, rolling his eyes. "Breeders go after the old ones because they've survived everything that life's thrown at them, and if they can live through the Game and everything, then that means they have traits that would be useful to a child. And the mating urge doesn't care if the old Immortal is a complete asshole either, it just takes over and 'wham-bam-thank-you-Sam,' sex happens and you end up feeling dirty for the rest of your life."
"You were lucky," Methos said. "This is the first time you've actually gotten pregnant, and it wasn't with someone you hate. And I can be a little happy too." He smiled.
Ban leaned over and pressed a quick kiss against Methos' lips before returning to his spot. "You make a great father," he said. "All those adopted children and you didn't kill even one of them. You really do produce Grade-A sperm."
"Wait a minute," Joe interrupted, holding up a hand. "If there's only five Breeders and they don't come into season all that often, why are there more pre-Immortals popping up all the time?" he asked, raising a skeptical brow. He didn't quite believe that this was really happening.
Ban turned his head to look at him. There was a sad expression on his face. "Breeders may only come into season every couple of centuries, but after we present, we all have the capability to impregnate a female Immortal."
"How? If you're both sterile at the time..." Duncan raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.
Ban's lips twitched with distaste. "I think it's kind of gross. If a pre-Breeder or an out-of-season Breeder has sex with a female Immortal, even if she's too young to be fertilized, our sperm stays inside her until she reaches maturation. The sperm penetrate her egg the moment it's offered, but since she's not a Breeder and can't maintain an in-body pregnancy, she has horrible stomach pains, collapses, and dies. Most of them think that they had some kind of food poisoning or something.
"While she's dead, her body expels the 'foreign materials' in the form of a thick jelly that automatically oozes toward any dark, out of the way spot. She wakes up and wanders off, never knowing what happened to her. After she dies, there is no pain while she recovers or anything. The jelly's only about the size of half a teaspoon of liquid, so there's no real wounds to heal, which means she never knows that anything even happened.
"Meanwhile, the jelly quickly begins consuming any source of nutrients available and the cells begin to multiply. Eventually a hard shell forms around and from the jelly. Inside the egg sac, the baby begins to develop. Two weeks later, a baby's born. And since the jelly usually gravitates towards the undersides of things for protection, when the baby's found, the leftover egg sac is ignored as it quickly decomposes. People finding the babies think that they just appeared out of nowhere."
"How do you know all that if the women don't even know?" Joe asked.
"I saw it once," Ban said. "It was the most disgusting, yet irresistibly fascinating thing I ever saw. My mentor had sex with a pre-Immortal woman and when she ran into her over a thousand years later, she was 'lucky' enough to be there when she died and expelled the jelly. Davork sent for me to come witness the strange thing she had found. We were both surprised when that blob of jelly turned into a sticky mass under an overhang of her shed, and then formed a shell. When the baby was born, I didn't think she should keep it because I thought it was kind of creepy, but Davork had already had a dozen children by then, and she insisted that it was like all of the others, no matter how it had come to be. I really didn't want to argue with her about that, so I left again."
"Wait a minute, did you say 'she' had sex with 'her' and had a baby?" Duncan demanded.
Ban shrugged. Once upon a time the subject would have made him acutely uncomfortable, but he had had millennia to deal with the strangeness. "Breeders are hermaphrodites. We aren't born that way, but about fifty years or so after our First Deaths, we begin to, what we call, 'present.' Male-type Breeders like me develop rudimentary vaginal openings, while female-types develop retractable penises."
"Retractable penises? What does that mean?" Duncan asked, his lips twisting a little.
"It's kind of weird. They have skin pouches that their penises kind of fold into. Their testicles are held within their body cavities and only lower while their penises are being sexually stimulated. It takes them about half an hour for their testicles to lower and cool to an internal temperature where they can produce living sperm. I never really asked too many questions about it when I was with Davork because I was young then and still shy about certain subjects. And after her death... well, can't ask her now, can I?"
"Why don't you ask another female-type Breeder?" Joe asked, fascinated in spite of himself.
Ban twitched his shoulders like he didn't care. Really though, it was kind of a disturbing subject. "Female Immortals are already rare, about one in forty, but a female Immortal that is also a Breeder?" He laughed a little, a breathy sound. "There's about a one in five hundred chance of a Breeder being born. So how many female-types do you think there are?"
"I told you there are five known Breeders," Methos said, "counting Ban. All of them are male-types, and Ban is the oldest of them. And this is the first time he has ever come into season. We both thought that maybe there was something wrong, that maybe he was a sterile Breeder. There have been a few."
Ban blinked sadly. "I met a Breeder about twenty years ago," he said. "Well, he would have been a Breeder someday, but his First Death... Kenny was only about eleven years old when he died. Even if he reaches five thousand his body will never be sexually mature. I had to explain it to him, though I don't think he really understood. He was already a little crazy by then. I mean, can you imagine suddenly developing strange body parts and not even knowing what's going on?"
"Kenny?" Duncan murmured, sharing a look with Joe that Ban didn't see. The Breeder was looking at his hands twisted in his lap.
He still remembered how frightened he'd been when he started developing. There had been a little blood as a hole had opened up in the stretch of skin between his ball sac and his anus. It hadn't been exactly painful, but it had itched a little and he'd had no idea what was happening. Strange openings were forming in his body and his Immortal healing wasn't fixing it. He had wondered if he was going to die and not wake up.
He'd been fifty-seven then and sure of the way his body was supposed to look and feel. There had been no one to explain what was happening to him, and he could only imagine how it must be for a female-type Breeder. Growing an appendage a bit at a time, it would be horrifying even if they knew what was happening, but to be caught completely unaware...
"Why don't more Immortals know about Breeders?" Duncan asked. "We all wonder where we come from, why haven't you told everyone?"
Ban looked at Methos, urging him to answer that one. Duncan was his friend after all.
"A lot of Immortals would be disgusted to find out that they grew out of a pile of jelly. Or some females would never have sex with Breeders because they wouldn't want it to happen to them. Or some females would remember a time when they collapsed and died for no reason, and they would have to wonder if maybe they had given birth then, and if maybe they killed their own child later in a Challenge. Then there are the ones that would purposely hunt down Breeders, either to hold them prisoner to produce armies of Immortal soldiers, or to kill them so no more children can be born, ensuring that they really have the chance to be the One."
Methos gave Duncan a hard look. "You can't tell anyone that doesn't already know. Breeders are not a subject that should be spoken about, because even someone you trust today, could someday become so angry at life that they might decide to kill all Immortals.
"And you," he looked at Joe, "this is not to go in the Chronicles. We do not need Hunters killing Breeders or capturing them for experimentation. We do not need the trouble of Watchers meddling in things they have no business even knowing about. We're telling you about Breeders, Joe, because you're a friend, and as a friend. Right this moment, you are not a Watcher, you are just Joe. And whenever you deal with Ban as a Breeder, that's the way it has to be."
Joe nodded. "Yes, of course."
"I like you," Ban suddenly said. He gave Joe a close look. "Methos has told me about you, that you're his friend and that he's trusted you with the secret of who he is and with his very life. But," his face went hard, "I have more to worry about than just Methos. I have the unborn life of our child, and if you say anything to the Watchers or anyone else I don't agree you can tell, I will kill you in the worst way possible."
Meeting those hard, agate eyes, Joe swallowed hard. There was something suddenly dangerous about Ban. He was still slender and almost girlishly pretty, but his beauty was rather viperish, a reptilian charm that was as deadly as it was mesmerizing.
"I won't tell," Joe promised. "None of this will even go into my report. You will be listed as Elaban Court, a guest of 'Alex.' I won't even mention that you're an Immortal."
"You can say I'm Immortal," Ban said. "They'll probably guess that anyway. But don't say anything about me being pregnant, or a Breeder, or anything. I can just be Methos' strange Immortal guest, maybe even a new student of MacLeod's." He glanced at Duncan questioningly.
"I don't mind if you say that," Duncan said. He was still kind of dazed about everything he'd learned, but was quickly returning to normal. "I think I want to get to know this child," he nodded at Ban's stomach. "I would like it if I could be Uncle Mac to it."
"Of course you're Uncle Mac," Methos said, as though it were obvious. "I expect my child to receive a suitably large number of presents from you. And I need someone to provide free child care whenever needed. Ban and I would enjoy the luxury of a few nights out, and when that happens... you'll be the first one we call."
Ban gave Duncan a bright smile. "Thanks in advance for all the times we're going to be calling on you. I've had to take care of kids before, I know how much of a handful they can be. I know there's going to be times when all I'll want to do is get away from them--far, far away from them."
"It's going to be hard to protect you when you really start showing," Duncan mused. "Not knowing that you're pregnant, headhunters might just see your stomach and think you're easy pickings. It might not be too safe for you to stay around here. Hunters are always showing up to challenge me."
"Don't worry about it," Ban said. "I'll be okay. Any headhunter that comes near me will just wander off again. There's only a very slim chance that I'll ever be challenged."
"Why's that?" Joe asked.
"Because I'm a Breeder." Ban rubbed a finger under his nose. "It's all part and parcel with the Breeder package." He looked at Methos. "Why don't you give them the technical explanation."
"Thanks," Methos said ruefully.
Ban gave him a shiny and bright smile, completely melting away the pissy mood the older Immortal was trying to fall into. Methos resolutely turned toward Joe and Duncan, trying to get away from that look. He could never resist Ban in cute-mode for long. It was his curse.
"After Breeders come into season, their bodies produce a pheromone that causes young, sexually immature Immortals to avoid confrontation with them, and that attracts older Immortals. The older the Immortal, the more affected they are by the pheromone," Methos said. "When I am around a Breeder, it's almost impossible for me to ignore them. I have this urge to throw them down and have my way with them. It's rather disconcerting, really, to lose control of yourself like that."
"Then how come you seem all right with Ban here?" Joe asked.
Methos reached out without looking and brushed the knuckles of his right hand across Ban's cheek. Ban turned his face and pressed a soft kiss against Methos' fingers as he took his hand back. "I'm all right because Ban's already pregnant. Before this, just being in the room with him drove me into a frenzy. But now that he's pregnant, I can act like a normal human being, and if I run across another Breeder, I won't feel the draw to them, because I'm already attached to Ban. He's marked me with his pheromone signature, which pretty much makes me off-limits to other Breeders as long as we are together. It's almost a marriage."
"Since I'm pregnant and still with him, that makes him the protector of me and our child," Ban explained. "Before this, even though we were having sex, another Breeder could have still come along and taken him away. But now that I'm pregnant, my pheromones have changed a little, and marking him with them now turns him into the protector figure, which makes him off-limits. He literally belongs to me, and as long as we maintain a certain amount of closeness, even after the baby is born or my cycle shifts and I go out of season, he will still carry my mark. It's actually pretty cool. I don't have to worry that he's going to be snatched now. I mean, a five thousand year old is prime real estate. His having survived for so long pretty much assures that he's got some great genetic material to pass on. Plus, I actually love him, which is lucky, because most Breeders don't have that luxury. They just get the fuck and dump, having the babies of whatever thousand-plus year old they run across. It's not very pretty, and it can make you a little bitter."
"Some Breeders, though they have the equipment to bear children, just don't have the right mindset for it. They are very likely to abandon an unwanted baby." Methos didn't let his disgust show at that. "There have been cases of Breeders that abandon babies wherever they have them, not even taking into account the lack of people around them. A lot of babies die of exposure before they're ever found."
"That's horrible!" Duncan was horrified.
Ban shrugged, unconcerned. "It's not pleasant, but that's the way it's always been. Some Breeders just aren't too mentally stable. I hate to say it, but some of them are just a womb on legs and have no maternal instinct at all, dumping babies whenever and wherever. At least there's the relief of knowing that any pre-Immortal children that die before they reach puberty don't become Immortal."
"What about Kenny, though?" Duncan demanded. "He was still a child and he was Immortal."
"That's easy," Methos said, falling into technical mode. "Since it's the pituitary gland that assures who becomes Immortal or not, Kenny's Immortality was activated with his First Death because his body was flooded with hormones. He was just beginning puberty when he died, but he was still a child. It was his sexual immaturity, combined with forever being trapped in the body of a child, that eventually drove him mad. The natural instincts of his body demanded that he become a Breeder, so he began the changes, but he couldn't maintain his purpose since he couldn't become pregnant or impregnate others.
"His body urged him to mate--since even an out of season Breeder can impregnate a female Immortal--but nothing could ever come of it. His body was constantly pumping out the hormones to produce a child, but he could never become pregnant. It's kind of sad, when you think about it."
"Not really," Ban said. "It's just a waste. I feel for him, but all of us live with the chance that we could have died as children. He just got a bit of bad luck, that's all."
"He was a Breeder too young in body to ever Breed," Methos said. "His body would try to produce the preliminary warning pheromones that all Breeders give off, but it would be warped by the hormones his pituitary gland was still pumping out. He doesn't even have the luxury of knowing that he'll be safe from the Game some day, because his hormones screw up the signal, actually attracting other Immortals to come kill him. Immortal natural selection does not weigh heavy in favor of a Breeder that can't breed."
"If he makes it to his first season, he's just going to be even more of a tempting target than he is as a child Immortal," Ban said, shaking his head. "I tried to help him when I met him, but he didn't really believe me, and he definitely didn't trust me to keep him safe. He ran off and I couldn't find him. It was sad, his body was halfway presented, and he was giving off the first traces of warning pheromone."
"What does that mean?" Joe asked.
Ban shrugged. "Breeders give off two main pheromones in our lifetimes. The rudimentary pheromone is what we exude after our bodies present. It'll warn off some of the weaker Immortals and might even calm down a raging Immortal, make them hesitate in their rage, but it's not really all that strong. The main pheromone that develops after we come into our first season... that one's strong enough to stop a raging Immortal in his tracks. We are the only future of the Immortal race, so it wouldn't do for us to be killed off. They may not understand it, but any Immortal that comes around us instinctively recognizes that we're off limits to challenge. But Kenny... he'll never have that protection, because even though he should have been a Breeder, he can't produce young, and not even pheromones can fool another Immortal's senses. He's just easy meat."
"Wait a minute, if you give off pheromones that keep most other Immortals from trying to kill you, why are you here?" Duncan asked, desperately changing the subject. He didn't want to think of Kenny the Breeder, not if it was really Kenny the child-bodied murderer that he remembered. He had pitied Kenny, forever trapped in a body too small to play the Game, destined to be a victim, even if he had changed his fate by killing the compassionate fools that fell for his trick of innocence. He didn't want to have more reason to feel sorry for him. "Methos isn't very active in the Game, but he's still Challenged sometimes. Wouldn't you be safer away from all Immortals?"
"This is my first pregnancy, and I'm scared," Ban said, completely unashamed of his confession. "I don't want to do it alone. And besides, even after the baby's born, I'm still going to be in season for however long my cycle lasts, which means I can become pregnant again. If I leave Methos and the mating urge strikes me, I'll be irresistibly drawn to the nearest old Immortal, which can be anyone, even someone that will hurt me for pleasure, or that completely turns my stomach. I don't want that. I actually love Methos, and I'll be safe with him. I don't really trust anyone else."
. "And I want to see my child," Methos said. "I made Ban promise that if he ever became pregnant, even if it wasn't mine, he was to come to me and I would always have a place for him. I don't want him to give birth somewhere, alone and without any support. I mean, it's not as though he can go to a hospital, not just because of the differences being a Breeder has made in his body, but because of Immortal healing."
"I'll be all right here," Ban said. "Methos will take care of me, and he was trained as a doctor, so I'm sure he can handle anything that goes wrong. I feel safer here with him than I would be if I was trying to do this alone."
Duncan bowed his head in defeat, making a slight 'throwing-away' gesture with his hand. "Because you came here, you're not going to have just Methos," he said. "Joe and I will help too, and maybe Amanda if she wanders through, though she's not really all that good with kids. She tries hard, but... well." He shrugged.
Methos smirked. "You may think you know Amanda, but it looks like you don't know her as well as you think you do. She's a champion with kids, when she tries."
"What do you mean?" Duncan asked.
"Oh come on, MacLeod, it's obvious. There are realms of Amanda-knowledge that you just don't have. She may be extremely high-maintenance at the best of times, but inside she's the thief with a heart of gold. When she tries, kids love her. Just wait until she finds out about this... she's almost as good at spoiling neonates as you are. This kid is going to have some prime swag by the time she's done."
"Dammit, beloved, stop watching all those generation-X TV shows. I'm tired of trying to piece together what you're saying!" Ban gave Methos a mock-glare, though it was spoiled a little by the way his lips twitched and his eyes refused to stop sparkling.
"Hey, I'm the world's oldest Immortal for a reason. I always manage to meld into the background and fit myself into any situation by learning the local moors and customs first thing. The legend of Methos is an infrangible thing of meteoric proportions, never to be deciphered by you or anyone else."
"You always wanted to say that to me, didn't you?" Ban said, lip twitching. "Always got to be the smart ass."
Methos leaned over and pressed a kiss against a pale, gold-tinged porcelain cheek. "That's why you love me. If I had only half the wit, I would never have been able to capture your discerning attention."
"Is that a nice way of saying I'm a snob?" Ban asked in amusement.
"No, of course not. It's just that you have a bit of a reputation for a tougher than usual list of attributes a lover has to meet before they can be with you, that's all. It doesn't make you a relationship snob, just... picky."
"I'm not picky! I'm just careful," Ban said, pushing his lower lip out in a melting pout designed to drum up sympathy from even the most emotionally closed-off people.
"Ah Methos, do you have to be so rough with him?" Joe asked, his eyes locked on that juicy, outthrust lip. Without really noticing what he was doing, he licked his own lips, unable to look away from Ban. There was just something so hypnotic about that pornographic mouth, though Ban's face seen as a whole could be described as almost childishly innocent... he just looked so young and unguarded, destined to be either angel sweet or deliciously wanton.
Not even an iron hard case of heterosexuality could resist Ban's appeal. Everyone wanted to be the first to plunder the depths of his innocence.
Which was a little ridiculous considering the fact that he was thousands of years old. He had seen and done things that were both horrifying and disturbingly seductive, acts so strange that even now they remained unnamed and illegal. He had committed the Kama Sutra to memory and even added a few pages himself. He was not the innocent child mask that he presented himself to be.
Methos' lip curved in amused sympathy as he looked at Joe and Duncan. Both men were falling under Ban's spell, and though he wanted to feel sorry for them, he couldn't quite manage it. Straitlaced MacLeod needed the guilty excitement of a forbidden lust, and Joe Dawson was one man that needed a new mystery to solve. And if ever there was a person that could be described both as forbidden fruit and mysterious, it was Elaban Court. There were just so many levels to him that no one had ever seen. Even Methos, who knew Ban best in all the world, had never managed to uncover ever secret Ban held. It was one of the things that kept him so tantalizingly appealing.
"Don't worry about him," Methos said, jerking a thumb at Ban. "He can more than take care of himself. He's probably better at it than I am."
"Oh no, Methos, no one's better than you," Ban cooed, making big anime eyes. He even managed to get the psychedelic shine down. It was kind of eerie.
Methos shuddered. "Please don't ever look at me like that again."
Ban laughed naughtily. "Poor little Methos, so confused. I knew that there was a reason I came to you, and not just the whole pregnancy thing. You need me to lighten the mood. You're getting just a little too stodgy in your old age."
"Ha, the mood does not need to be lighter and I am most definitely not stodgy, though I am happy to see you." Methos grinned at Ban as he spoke. After a minute of looking at his long-time lover, the amusement faded, leaving the love behind, shining clear and untarnished. "I really am glad you're here."
Ban smiled slightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a little. "Me too."
It was strange how easily Ban fit into life at Seacouver. After a few months, it was almost as if he had always been there. He went to Joe's bar with Methos, shopping with Duncan, trained with both Methos and Duncan (though Duncan insisted on going easy on him), and helped Joe fill in some gaps in the Watcher Chronicles, though he never spoke about himself or other Breeders and Joe never asked for more than Ban would give. All three men were happy to have Ban around, because he cleared away the boredom and gave them a strange sense of belonging, like they had refound a sense of family that they had long since lost. He brought them all closer together and none of them knew what they would have done without him.
They did have some worries to deal with, because even though he had added on a few pounds, Ban continued to look as slender and unpregnant as when he had first arrived. Methos was actually beginning to worry about him and had had several private conversations with Duncan and Joe about it. He didn't want to scare Ban, so he didn't say anything to him.
Ban was already nine months pregnant, and he was still barely showing. The baby should have made an appearance by now, which left them all a bit nervous. None of them knew how long a Breeder was supposed to be pregnant for or how to tell if something had gone terribly wrong.
"Isn't there anyone you can ask?"
Methos looked at Duncan. The two men were alone for once, heading back to Methos' studio apartment. "There are only five known mature Breeders, and they don't talk to anyone outside of their circles. They're carefully guarded... each one has followers--almost worshippers--that guard them twenty-four hours a day, keeping the curious away. Ban was wandering around free because he refused to be 'protected,' and because he hasn't given birth yet. The minute they find out he's actually fertile, they'll try to get him back to one of the Fortresses."
"What are you talking about?" Duncan asked.
Methos blew out a breath, raking a hand through his hair. "Ban and I didn't mention it before because it didn't seem important, but there's something you have to understand about Breeders, MacLeod. They are the future of our people, they are precious and rare and if they die we die. The Society of Asaroth was created for the sole purpose of protecting Breeders, not just from outsiders, but from themselves. The Asaroth charter insists that Breeders cannot be allowed to take chances and risk themselves. They are too important, or at least, that's what the Asaroth say as they lock them up and never let them out."
"They're kept in prison?" Duncan cocked his head, his Highland sense of justice piqued. Methos could practically see him leaping on his white charger and going off to save the poor imprisoned Immortals.
Methos shook his head. "Leave it alone, Duncan," he said softly, intently. "There's nothing you can do for them, they're too hidden. The Asaroth are Immortals and mortals that train their whole lives for the simple purpose of protecting Breeders. The mortals are born from ancient bloodlines and know only their Duty. If you try to break into the Fortresses and steal a Breeder, the Asaroth will kill you. They have no mercy, and you will not be able to talk them out of it because they know that they are right and you are wrong. Leave it alone, you do not want to stir up that bees nest. Besides, we have Ban to worry about.
"If you draw the attention of the Asaroth, they will find out that Ban is here and that he is fertile, and they will take him away, and I won't let you risk him like that. I promised him long ago when the Asaroth were just beginning that if they ever came for him, I would kill him before I would let him go. He does not want to spend the rest of eternity imprisoned 'for his own good' in some powdered boudoir pregnant with the children of nameless Immortals. He values his freedom too much, and it would kill him, though his body would not die.
"And once the Asaroth have him, they will never let him go. Anyone that attacks them is hunted down and killed. Anyone approaches the Breeders that isn't over a thousand years old and fully restrained is killed. And if they have to, to protect their Breeder every Asaroth assigned to him or her will die to get him back. Thousands of Asaroth faithfully serving each Breeder, willing to lay down their life at a moments notice. You cannot save them from their fate, MacLeod, no one can, because the instant they were locked in their Fortresses those Breeders were lost to freedom."
Duncan's lips pressed tight, stubborn. "What do you mean thousand year old Immortals are 'fully restrained'?"
"When an Immortal is brought to a Breeder, even though the pheromone should keep them calm and tractable, there's a chance it won't work. To keep the Breeders safe, the Asaroth blindfold and chain the Immortals they bring into the Fortress, and once the breeding is done, the Immortals are taken away. The Immortals never know where the Fortresses are and never see the Breeders. Mindless instinct takes over when they mate, but when the Immortals return to themselves there must be no chance that they will try to stay in the Fortress or that they will try to take a Breeder for themselves. No, the Asaroth are careful, they drug the Immortals and never let them see where they go, and when all is done, the Immortals think it was all some elaborate dream, or even if they realize that it really happened, there is nothing they can do, because they can never find the Fortress again. And the Breeders are safe in their luxurious prisons."
"How do you know all that?" Duncan asked.
Methos crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at his feet. He nibbled on his lip for a moment, reburying the bleak memories talk of the Asaroth had dredged up. "I thought it was a dream for a long time, until I met Ban. When I realized what he was, I realized that the Breeder I had met before was real, and so was the Fortress and the strange guardians therein. Centuries of research have filled in the gaps of my knowledge, but when they took me, they were just beginning their work. Now their defenses are impregnable and there is no help for the Breeders, even if they wanted to leave."
"Why wouldn't they want to leave?"
Methos snorted a laugh, though there was no humor in it. "The Breeders in the Fortresses have their every whim catered to. They have everything they could ever want, the only thing they don't have is the freedom to leave. They don't have to fight in the Game or even see its machinations. They are kept safe in a life they have lived for centuries, millennia. They are used to their life in their Fortresses and they would not welcome being taken from them. They are happy where they are, content to squeeze out baby after baby without rest."
"That's horrible!" Duncan cried.
"That's the life they live, and they would not thank you for taking them away from it. In trying to rescue the Breeders, it wouldn't just be the Asaroth that you would have to fight. The Breeders themselves would kill you in an instant. So just leave it alone. Our sole worry must be Ban. Forget the others, they are far out of your reach."
Methos hurried his step, forcing Duncan to almost run to catch up. They were almost to the apartment and Methos was suddenly desperate to see Ban's face and know that he was all right. He didn't like thinking about the Asaroth, and he definitely didn't like the thought of Ban in their care.
.
. Ban's Quickening had dwindled down to almost nothing. It was still there sizzling beneath the surface of his skin, but it was almost impossible to sense him from a distance. It was as though he had suddenly become invisible, the pregnancy masking what he was.
Throwing open the door, to Methos' Immortal-sense the apartment could have been empty, though the scent of cooking let him know Ban was there.
"Honey, we're home!" he called, purposely cheerful.
Ban's face peered around the edge of the kitchen door, smiling. "Good, you're right on time. Dinner will be ready in just a minute. Set the table."
Methos bowed mockingly. "Yes, master, you're every wish and desire is my command."
Ban smirked. "That's just the way it's supposed to be." He disappeared back into the kitchen.
Methos finally allowed himself to breathe out. He had been half-holding his breath from the moment he had stepped out of the elevator, wondering if Ban was still here and safe. He let his worry fall away and slapped Duncan on the shoulder, grinning. "Come on, you get to help me set the table."
"Well, I really think that maybe I should be going. You guys need some time alone and..."
Methos slapped Duncan's arm again. "Nonsense, and stop being an idiot. You know Ban's cooking enough for you and would be disappointed if you left before dinner. Stop trying to look all noble and get over there. When he says the food's almost done, then it's almost done."
Duncan smiled and obediently wandered over to the dining area and the cupboard against the wall. He got out the everyday dishes and began to set them out on the table, knowing exactly where they were supposed to go. He'd been eating dinner at Methos' for the past two and a half months and had his own habitual place at the table.
Methos shook his head and got the silverware out of the drawer just below the cupboard. Forks, spoons and knives all engraved with ornate EC's. Ban had brought them with him, a full-set of silverware with his initials right on them, made out of real silver. He had barely brought two days worth of clothes with him, but he had carried his silverware in its velvet-lined cedar case.
Freely able to admit that he loved Ban, Methos still couldn't explain some of the ways the man thought. Riding a bus from the airport to Methos' apartment and only bringing a backpack and duffel bag worth of stuff, which meant a few changes of clothes, a heavy case filled with silverware, two books, his laptop, and six silver wine goblets carefully wrapped in sheepskin and stored in a waterproof metal box. Both of the books were baby books--one a baby name book and the other a guide for pregnant mothers.
Even for someone as willing to leave things behind as Methos, Ban's ability to just dump his past life was amazing. Because even though he had brought things with him, Methos knew that if it had come down to it, Ban would have left even the clothes on his back. Ban wouldn't even blink if he lost everything and had to start over completely from scratch, without even a penny in his pocket. He adapted to every situation.
So the fact that Ban had brought a set of silverware with him meant that they must be important to him. Methos handled them with a casual kind of care, setting them neatly on the table in their place on the folded linen napkins.
"All right!" Ban called, coming through the kitchen door backward. "Dinner's ready. I hope you guys're hungry." He carried the covered casserole dish to the table, his footsteps slow and steady. He wore bright red oven mitts on his hands, the thumb of the right one singed a light brown with the white cotton stuffing showing through the tip.
Methos hurriedly grabbed a heat pad out of the cupboard and laid it on the table for Ban to put the casserole on. "What did you make?" he asked.
Ban smiled and lifted the lid, laying it aside. Methos' nostrils flared and he breathed in the heady aroma of roast beef, potatoes and carrots.
"I was kind of lazy today," Ban said, shrugging a little. "I didn't want to spend hours cooking so I just threw stuff in the oven. You don't mind, do you?" He glanced at Duncan.
"No, this looks good," Duncan said.
"Okay, thanks. I was a little worried, you know, because my falling into the trap of lazy cooking doesn't mean you have to eat it happily. You can complain if you want to, because I know how you guys like your fancy cooking with the frying and the sautéing and the broiling accompanied by the stirring, the whipping and the shredding of vegetable byproducts, and usually I'm happy to do it, but... Today I just... I don't know why, but I felt so tired. I napped most of the day away and I just wanted to cook something easy." Ban looked almost ashamed of himself.
Methos wrapped his arms around his lover, pressing a kiss against the top of his head before resting his cheek against the silky-soft hair. "It's all right. It smells wonderful, and I don't know about Mac, but I actually enjoy a simple meal, and I have been craving protein."
Ban snuggled close against him, wrapping his arms around Methos' waist. "Thanks." He sighed. "I'm glad you're back. I missed you today."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Ban suddenly jerked away, his eyes wide. "Oops, my biscuits!" He hurried back toward the kitchen.
Methos watched him go, a fond smile on his lips. He had always liked having Ban around, it made his long life seem much less lonely.
"This smells really good," Duncan said, leaning over the casserole dish to breathe in the heady aroma.
"Of course it does, and it's delicious too. I've tried Ban's roast before. It's succulent and tender with just the right amount of spices rubbed into the meat, and the vegetables aren't either mushy or too hard. I don't know why he always thinks people will hate it, but he carries on like that every time he makes a roast for other people." Methos shook his head. "I suppose someone might have told him it was terrible once."
"I don't know why anyone would ever say something like that to him," Duncan said. "Ban's so sweet and nice and beautiful and..." he trailed off into silence, color tingeing his ruddy cheeks.
With a sideways glance at Duncan, Methos arranged the serving utensils in front of the roast. It was obvious that Duncan was falling under Ban's spell of charm. It wouldn't be long now before the Highlander would be writing poetry and love songs for the Breeder, maybe bringing him flowers and expensive jewelry if the feelings were allowed to go far enough.
There was just something about Ban that attracted people to him. He was beautiful in so many ways and there were always those that were drawn to him like a moth to a flame, only to burn up in the fire of his perfect beauty. No one could withstand the whole of Ban without having themselves stripped to the bone, and there were very few that could survive such complete spiritual nakedness.
Methos wanted to warn Duncan away, but the words wouldn't come. He knew that Duncan wouldn't listen and believe him--no one ever had before. Once someone saw and desired Ban, there was no turning them away, not even after they hurt themselves.
The kitchen door swung open again and Ban came out with lightly golden biscuits resting in a whicker basket lined with a white linen cloth. "Since I didn't have time to make a full dinner, I made biscuits from scratch." He carried them to the table, setting them down in front of Duncan's place. "Is there any wine?" He glanced around.
"A nice red will go fine with this," Methos said, grabbing a bottle out of the hanging rack in the corner.
"Shouldn't you be drinking beer?" Duncan teased.
Methos gave him a droll look, then grinned. "Beer is a staple of life, but there's no chance that I would ruin Ban's excellent dinner by drinking anything other than what he recommends." He leaned over to press a kiss against Ban's cheek. "I love you," he whispered, just for him to hear.
Ban blushed prettily, the corners of his lips turning up. "Why don't you serve the food?" he asked, taking his seat.
"Aye, aye, mon Capitaine."
They had a nice dinner, though Duncan was a little upset when he realized that Ban was drinking wine.
"Should you be doing that? Isn't it bad for the baby's development, that whole fetal alcohol syndrome thing?" he asked.
Ban smiled a little. "Don't worry, Duncan, it's all right. My body processes everything I eat or drink before passing it on to the baby. It's one of the perks of being a Breeder. I could drink a whole brewery's worth of beer or empty out a wine cellar and even though I'll be drunk off my ass, the baby will be perfectly fine. My body filters everything so the baby only gets what it needs and nothing else.
"It's a good thing too," he added, "since Laevka, a Breeder I met once, was a complete alcoholic. He refused to stop drinking and spent most of his life in a daze. If he hadn't been a Breeder, someone would have taken his head. He was just such easy pickings. But every baby he had was healthy, and that's all that matters: the continuation of the species, right? Besides, he was a real asshole. At least when he was drinking you could be assured that he was going to pass out and finally shut up for once."
Duncan blinked a little at that. For some reason, Duncan was always surprised whenever Ban swore; he just seemed so young and innocent and delicate and...
Ban laughed. "Sorry, I just never liked that guy. When they came up with the word 'shit-head,' they were talking about him."
Methos had been watching Duncan. He knew that the other Immortal tended to judge people by their apparent age. And like with Amanda, Duncan ignored the centuries Ban had lived before he'd been born and treated him like the boy he appeared. Methos had caught Duncan giving him sideways looks, wondering if he had taken advantage of Ban.
On one hand, it was amusing to watch Duncan's stiff Highland worldview assist him in making an ass of himself, but on the other hand it was a little painful to always have the worst thought of him. Once Duncan formed a bad opinion of someone, he never let himself change it. And of course, if he thought of someone as a friend, he wouldn't act against them even if they turned evil and tried to kill him and everyone else he knew. He was just so stubborn about some things.
Ban sipped from his wine again, completely ignoring Duncan's doubtful look. "I wonder when this baby is going to be born."
Methos shared a quick look with Duncan. "Uh, it's hard to say," he said.
Ban looked at him. "The baby should have been born by now and I'm not even barely showing. Do you think maybe something's wrong?"
Methos shook his head. "No, I just think that Immortal pregnancies are a hard thing to judge because there are so few Breeders. Without another Breeder to ask, there's no way to know if this isn't the way it's supposed to be. First pregnancies may be longer than later ones. We just don't know."
Ban cupped his belly with one hand. "I still have to worry," he said. "This is my first time and I don't want anything to go wrong with it."
Methos poked at his piece of roast, watching as the meat fell apart under his delicate touch. "You shouldn't worry," he said carefully. "I thought that we would be able to handle this ourselves, but I know now that we can't. I tracked down Benson. He's already in the process of relocating his practice here. In two weeks everything should be settled and we'll go see him and have you checked out. All right?"
Ban gave him such a bright smile he felt about twenty feet tall. "Thank you! I was just so worried, but I didn't want you to be upset so I didn't say anything. But... the baby hasn't been growing at all and I don't want to find out that it's... dead... and my Immortality was just keeping it inside me, and it was going to stay in there forever and..."
Methos was on his feet and embracing Ban before he was finished speaking, trying to sooth Ban's hysteria. "Come on, just calm down a little, it's all right," he murmured as he stroked soothing circles between Ban's shoulder blades.
He could almost have kicked himself for the way he had let Ban stew in his fear without even noticing that he was worried. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," Methos whispered. "I should have known you were upset and helped you."
Ban hugged Methos' around the waist, pressing his face tight against his lover's chest. "I didn't want you to know I was upset. I didn't think that both of us needed to worry about something we couldn't even change."
Methos pressed a kiss against the top of Ban's head. "I had some worries myself," he admitted."
Ban pulled away with a tearful smile. "Just to have you admit it makes it worth it to fall apart like I did. Now," he glanced at Duncan, who'd been staring down at the table trying not to watch them, "let's finish eating dinner. And hey," he added more cheerfully, "I rented some movies. They're supposed to be really good. The movie store nerds were very excited describing them to me. Though I think one of them thought I was a girl, 'cause he called me 'ma'am' and was hitting on me. It was kind of funny."
"Well, you are a little girly," Methos teased, "and always have been."
Ban stood up and twirled in place, his hands a little out to the side. "I may not look like I'm pregnant, but I'm starting to get the look that I someday might be. My chest's gotten a little... ripe looking, and I've noticed that my hips look a little more flared." He gave Methos a pouting look. "I don't know whether to be pleased or not. I look like a teenaged girl. A lot of padding at the chest and a nice sundress, and poof... I'd be Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If I let it grow out, then I've even got the hair for it too."
He sat back down and picked up his fork. "I hope I go back to normal when this is all over. The hormones are killing me. Less testosterone, more estrogen, and poof! I'm a native of mood swing land."
"He's always been a bit moody," Methos mock-whispered to Duncan, who wasn't brave enough to laugh after seeing the deadly glare Ban shot at Methos.
"I have not been moody!" he yelled. "Why are you always so mean to me?" his voice lowered, taking on a teary, husky quality.
Uh oh, Methos thought, bracing himself for the waterworks.
Instead of crying, Ban began laughing. "You should see your face! It's frickin' hilarious." He reached out and clasped Methos' hand in his. "Don't worry, love, I know I've been a bit... moody lately, but that doesn't mean I've completely lost all control of myself. I was just playing with you. I promise. I would never be that mean to you."
Methos breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh thank the Gods. If you had really lost yourself that much, I would have already been out the door and heading for Holy Ground."
"Now that's not a very nice thing to say, Methos," Duncan objected.
"You've never seen him in a mood," Methos told him. "It's not pretty."
Ban looked at him too. "It's really not. You don't want to see me out of control."
"People die, MacLeod, lots of people. He is a force of nature when he's pissed."
"All right, I've sat here patiently letting you two get reacquainted with each other, but now I've gotta know: How can you be pregnant?" Joe said. "Putting aside the fact that you're both male, you're also Immortals. What's going on here?"
Ban turned to look at the mortal. He couldn't help the way his hand lowered to his stomach, resting lightly against where the bulge was going to develop. "Um, maybe Methos should explain this. My medical knowledge is sketchy at best, and besides, the old guy really likes to hear the sound of his own voice talking."
Methos batted him lightly on the back of his head. "Brat. For that, no foot rubs for you."
"Hey, pregnant mate here!" Ban called.
"Oh, all right," Methos said. "But you're not getting one for awhile. You still need to be punished."
"Jerk," Ban muttered, just low enough that Methos could pretend not to have heard it.
Methos looked at Joe, purposely sprawling himself across most of the couch in his usual position of lazy comfort. "I don't really know quite where to start, but I'll try to explain clearly." He glanced at Ban, who was sitting primly on his section of couch, studiously not looking at anyone. "Ban is a Breeder."
"What's that?" Duncan asked, his eyes flicking over to Ban before focusing on Methos.
Methos shrugged. "Breeders are Immortals that can either bear children or impregnate other Immortals. They rarely come into 'season,' but when they do... well, there aren't many of them anyway, and it doesn't happen all the time. They have to be at least five hundred when their cycles of fertility start, which means a lot of them are killed off before their bodies start producing the pheromone that makes even the most homicidal Immortal back off. And they don't develop their natural defenses until then either.
"At this time, there are only about five mature Breeders in the whole world. There may be some pre-Breeders, but they won't be active for awhile yet, and there's a pretty good chance they could all be killed off in the name of clearing the playing field for the Gathering. Which means that Ban is a precious commodity, to be protected at all cost. If all the Breeders die, well, then there really will end up being only one Immortal."
"Why haven't I ever heard of this?" Duncan asked.
"Yeah, and there's nothing about it in the chronicles either," Joe added.
Methos shook his head. "There wouldn't be. It's not something we really want to have recorded, and not many young Immortals know about it anyway." He looked at Duncan with something like sympathy. He knew how Duncan felt about children. "An Immortal has to be at least a thousand before they reach sexual maturity, and even then there's a good chance they will never be chosen by a Breeder." He licked his lips. "Breeders are drawn to the oldest, most powerful Immortal available when they come into season. Their instincts make them want to mate with someone that can protect them and the young, which translates to a nearly overpowering drive towards the oldest Immortals, those that have survived the Game and everything else."
"Don't forget the drive to find the best genetic material," Ban said, rolling his eyes. "Breeders go after the old ones because they've survived everything that life's thrown at them, and if they can live through the Game and everything, then that means they have traits that would be useful to a child. And the mating urge doesn't care if the old Immortal is a complete asshole either, it just takes over and 'wham-bam-thank-you-Sam,' sex happens and you end up feeling dirty for the rest of your life."
"You were lucky," Methos said. "This is the first time you've actually gotten pregnant, and it wasn't with someone you hate. And I can be a little happy too." He smiled.
Ban leaned over and pressed a quick kiss against Methos' lips before returning to his spot. "You make a great father," he said. "All those adopted children and you didn't kill even one of them. You really do produce Grade-A sperm."
"Wait a minute," Joe interrupted, holding up a hand. "If there's only five Breeders and they don't come into season all that often, why are there more pre-Immortals popping up all the time?" he asked, raising a skeptical brow. He didn't quite believe that this was really happening.
Ban turned his head to look at him. There was a sad expression on his face. "Breeders may only come into season every couple of centuries, but after we present, we all have the capability to impregnate a female Immortal."
"How? If you're both sterile at the time..." Duncan raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.
Ban's lips twitched with distaste. "I think it's kind of gross. If a pre-Breeder or an out-of-season Breeder has sex with a female Immortal, even if she's too young to be fertilized, our sperm stays inside her until she reaches maturation. The sperm penetrate her egg the moment it's offered, but since she's not a Breeder and can't maintain an in-body pregnancy, she has horrible stomach pains, collapses, and dies. Most of them think that they had some kind of food poisoning or something.
"While she's dead, her body expels the 'foreign materials' in the form of a thick jelly that automatically oozes toward any dark, out of the way spot. She wakes up and wanders off, never knowing what happened to her. After she dies, there is no pain while she recovers or anything. The jelly's only about the size of half a teaspoon of liquid, so there's no real wounds to heal, which means she never knows that anything even happened.
"Meanwhile, the jelly quickly begins consuming any source of nutrients available and the cells begin to multiply. Eventually a hard shell forms around and from the jelly. Inside the egg sac, the baby begins to develop. Two weeks later, a baby's born. And since the jelly usually gravitates towards the undersides of things for protection, when the baby's found, the leftover egg sac is ignored as it quickly decomposes. People finding the babies think that they just appeared out of nowhere."
"How do you know all that if the women don't even know?" Joe asked.
"I saw it once," Ban said. "It was the most disgusting, yet irresistibly fascinating thing I ever saw. My mentor had sex with a pre-Immortal woman and when she ran into her over a thousand years later, she was 'lucky' enough to be there when she died and expelled the jelly. Davork sent for me to come witness the strange thing she had found. We were both surprised when that blob of jelly turned into a sticky mass under an overhang of her shed, and then formed a shell. When the baby was born, I didn't think she should keep it because I thought it was kind of creepy, but Davork had already had a dozen children by then, and she insisted that it was like all of the others, no matter how it had come to be. I really didn't want to argue with her about that, so I left again."
"Wait a minute, did you say 'she' had sex with 'her' and had a baby?" Duncan demanded.
Ban shrugged. Once upon a time the subject would have made him acutely uncomfortable, but he had had millennia to deal with the strangeness. "Breeders are hermaphrodites. We aren't born that way, but about fifty years or so after our First Deaths, we begin to, what we call, 'present.' Male-type Breeders like me develop rudimentary vaginal openings, while female-types develop retractable penises."
"Retractable penises? What does that mean?" Duncan asked, his lips twisting a little.
"It's kind of weird. They have skin pouches that their penises kind of fold into. Their testicles are held within their body cavities and only lower while their penises are being sexually stimulated. It takes them about half an hour for their testicles to lower and cool to an internal temperature where they can produce living sperm. I never really asked too many questions about it when I was with Davork because I was young then and still shy about certain subjects. And after her death... well, can't ask her now, can I?"
"Why don't you ask another female-type Breeder?" Joe asked, fascinated in spite of himself.
Ban twitched his shoulders like he didn't care. Really though, it was kind of a disturbing subject. "Female Immortals are already rare, about one in forty, but a female Immortal that is also a Breeder?" He laughed a little, a breathy sound. "There's about a one in five hundred chance of a Breeder being born. So how many female-types do you think there are?"
"I told you there are five known Breeders," Methos said, "counting Ban. All of them are male-types, and Ban is the oldest of them. And this is the first time he has ever come into season. We both thought that maybe there was something wrong, that maybe he was a sterile Breeder. There have been a few."
Ban blinked sadly. "I met a Breeder about twenty years ago," he said. "Well, he would have been a Breeder someday, but his First Death... Kenny was only about eleven years old when he died. Even if he reaches five thousand his body will never be sexually mature. I had to explain it to him, though I don't think he really understood. He was already a little crazy by then. I mean, can you imagine suddenly developing strange body parts and not even knowing what's going on?"
"Kenny?" Duncan murmured, sharing a look with Joe that Ban didn't see. The Breeder was looking at his hands twisted in his lap.
He still remembered how frightened he'd been when he started developing. There had been a little blood as a hole had opened up in the stretch of skin between his ball sac and his anus. It hadn't been exactly painful, but it had itched a little and he'd had no idea what was happening. Strange openings were forming in his body and his Immortal healing wasn't fixing it. He had wondered if he was going to die and not wake up.
He'd been fifty-seven then and sure of the way his body was supposed to look and feel. There had been no one to explain what was happening to him, and he could only imagine how it must be for a female-type Breeder. Growing an appendage a bit at a time, it would be horrifying even if they knew what was happening, but to be caught completely unaware...
"Why don't more Immortals know about Breeders?" Duncan asked. "We all wonder where we come from, why haven't you told everyone?"
Ban looked at Methos, urging him to answer that one. Duncan was his friend after all.
"A lot of Immortals would be disgusted to find out that they grew out of a pile of jelly. Or some females would never have sex with Breeders because they wouldn't want it to happen to them. Or some females would remember a time when they collapsed and died for no reason, and they would have to wonder if maybe they had given birth then, and if maybe they killed their own child later in a Challenge. Then there are the ones that would purposely hunt down Breeders, either to hold them prisoner to produce armies of Immortal soldiers, or to kill them so no more children can be born, ensuring that they really have the chance to be the One."
Methos gave Duncan a hard look. "You can't tell anyone that doesn't already know. Breeders are not a subject that should be spoken about, because even someone you trust today, could someday become so angry at life that they might decide to kill all Immortals.
"And you," he looked at Joe, "this is not to go in the Chronicles. We do not need Hunters killing Breeders or capturing them for experimentation. We do not need the trouble of Watchers meddling in things they have no business even knowing about. We're telling you about Breeders, Joe, because you're a friend, and as a friend. Right this moment, you are not a Watcher, you are just Joe. And whenever you deal with Ban as a Breeder, that's the way it has to be."
Joe nodded. "Yes, of course."
"I like you," Ban suddenly said. He gave Joe a close look. "Methos has told me about you, that you're his friend and that he's trusted you with the secret of who he is and with his very life. But," his face went hard, "I have more to worry about than just Methos. I have the unborn life of our child, and if you say anything to the Watchers or anyone else I don't agree you can tell, I will kill you in the worst way possible."
Meeting those hard, agate eyes, Joe swallowed hard. There was something suddenly dangerous about Ban. He was still slender and almost girlishly pretty, but his beauty was rather viperish, a reptilian charm that was as deadly as it was mesmerizing.
"I won't tell," Joe promised. "None of this will even go into my report. You will be listed as Elaban Court, a guest of 'Alex.' I won't even mention that you're an Immortal."
"You can say I'm Immortal," Ban said. "They'll probably guess that anyway. But don't say anything about me being pregnant, or a Breeder, or anything. I can just be Methos' strange Immortal guest, maybe even a new student of MacLeod's." He glanced at Duncan questioningly.
"I don't mind if you say that," Duncan said. He was still kind of dazed about everything he'd learned, but was quickly returning to normal. "I think I want to get to know this child," he nodded at Ban's stomach. "I would like it if I could be Uncle Mac to it."
"Of course you're Uncle Mac," Methos said, as though it were obvious. "I expect my child to receive a suitably large number of presents from you. And I need someone to provide free child care whenever needed. Ban and I would enjoy the luxury of a few nights out, and when that happens... you'll be the first one we call."
Ban gave Duncan a bright smile. "Thanks in advance for all the times we're going to be calling on you. I've had to take care of kids before, I know how much of a handful they can be. I know there's going to be times when all I'll want to do is get away from them--far, far away from them."
"It's going to be hard to protect you when you really start showing," Duncan mused. "Not knowing that you're pregnant, headhunters might just see your stomach and think you're easy pickings. It might not be too safe for you to stay around here. Hunters are always showing up to challenge me."
"Don't worry about it," Ban said. "I'll be okay. Any headhunter that comes near me will just wander off again. There's only a very slim chance that I'll ever be challenged."
"Why's that?" Joe asked.
"Because I'm a Breeder." Ban rubbed a finger under his nose. "It's all part and parcel with the Breeder package." He looked at Methos. "Why don't you give them the technical explanation."
"Thanks," Methos said ruefully.
Ban gave him a shiny and bright smile, completely melting away the pissy mood the older Immortal was trying to fall into. Methos resolutely turned toward Joe and Duncan, trying to get away from that look. He could never resist Ban in cute-mode for long. It was his curse.
"After Breeders come into season, their bodies produce a pheromone that causes young, sexually immature Immortals to avoid confrontation with them, and that attracts older Immortals. The older the Immortal, the more affected they are by the pheromone," Methos said. "When I am around a Breeder, it's almost impossible for me to ignore them. I have this urge to throw them down and have my way with them. It's rather disconcerting, really, to lose control of yourself like that."
"Then how come you seem all right with Ban here?" Joe asked.
Methos reached out without looking and brushed the knuckles of his right hand across Ban's cheek. Ban turned his face and pressed a soft kiss against Methos' fingers as he took his hand back. "I'm all right because Ban's already pregnant. Before this, just being in the room with him drove me into a frenzy. But now that he's pregnant, I can act like a normal human being, and if I run across another Breeder, I won't feel the draw to them, because I'm already attached to Ban. He's marked me with his pheromone signature, which pretty much makes me off-limits to other Breeders as long as we are together. It's almost a marriage."
"Since I'm pregnant and still with him, that makes him the protector of me and our child," Ban explained. "Before this, even though we were having sex, another Breeder could have still come along and taken him away. But now that I'm pregnant, my pheromones have changed a little, and marking him with them now turns him into the protector figure, which makes him off-limits. He literally belongs to me, and as long as we maintain a certain amount of closeness, even after the baby is born or my cycle shifts and I go out of season, he will still carry my mark. It's actually pretty cool. I don't have to worry that he's going to be snatched now. I mean, a five thousand year old is prime real estate. His having survived for so long pretty much assures that he's got some great genetic material to pass on. Plus, I actually love him, which is lucky, because most Breeders don't have that luxury. They just get the fuck and dump, having the babies of whatever thousand-plus year old they run across. It's not very pretty, and it can make you a little bitter."
"Some Breeders, though they have the equipment to bear children, just don't have the right mindset for it. They are very likely to abandon an unwanted baby." Methos didn't let his disgust show at that. "There have been cases of Breeders that abandon babies wherever they have them, not even taking into account the lack of people around them. A lot of babies die of exposure before they're ever found."
"That's horrible!" Duncan was horrified.
Ban shrugged, unconcerned. "It's not pleasant, but that's the way it's always been. Some Breeders just aren't too mentally stable. I hate to say it, but some of them are just a womb on legs and have no maternal instinct at all, dumping babies whenever and wherever. At least there's the relief of knowing that any pre-Immortal children that die before they reach puberty don't become Immortal."
"What about Kenny, though?" Duncan demanded. "He was still a child and he was Immortal."
"That's easy," Methos said, falling into technical mode. "Since it's the pituitary gland that assures who becomes Immortal or not, Kenny's Immortality was activated with his First Death because his body was flooded with hormones. He was just beginning puberty when he died, but he was still a child. It was his sexual immaturity, combined with forever being trapped in the body of a child, that eventually drove him mad. The natural instincts of his body demanded that he become a Breeder, so he began the changes, but he couldn't maintain his purpose since he couldn't become pregnant or impregnate others.
"His body urged him to mate--since even an out of season Breeder can impregnate a female Immortal--but nothing could ever come of it. His body was constantly pumping out the hormones to produce a child, but he could never become pregnant. It's kind of sad, when you think about it."
"Not really," Ban said. "It's just a waste. I feel for him, but all of us live with the chance that we could have died as children. He just got a bit of bad luck, that's all."
"He was a Breeder too young in body to ever Breed," Methos said. "His body would try to produce the preliminary warning pheromones that all Breeders give off, but it would be warped by the hormones his pituitary gland was still pumping out. He doesn't even have the luxury of knowing that he'll be safe from the Game some day, because his hormones screw up the signal, actually attracting other Immortals to come kill him. Immortal natural selection does not weigh heavy in favor of a Breeder that can't breed."
"If he makes it to his first season, he's just going to be even more of a tempting target than he is as a child Immortal," Ban said, shaking his head. "I tried to help him when I met him, but he didn't really believe me, and he definitely didn't trust me to keep him safe. He ran off and I couldn't find him. It was sad, his body was halfway presented, and he was giving off the first traces of warning pheromone."
"What does that mean?" Joe asked.
Ban shrugged. "Breeders give off two main pheromones in our lifetimes. The rudimentary pheromone is what we exude after our bodies present. It'll warn off some of the weaker Immortals and might even calm down a raging Immortal, make them hesitate in their rage, but it's not really all that strong. The main pheromone that develops after we come into our first season... that one's strong enough to stop a raging Immortal in his tracks. We are the only future of the Immortal race, so it wouldn't do for us to be killed off. They may not understand it, but any Immortal that comes around us instinctively recognizes that we're off limits to challenge. But Kenny... he'll never have that protection, because even though he should have been a Breeder, he can't produce young, and not even pheromones can fool another Immortal's senses. He's just easy meat."
"Wait a minute, if you give off pheromones that keep most other Immortals from trying to kill you, why are you here?" Duncan asked, desperately changing the subject. He didn't want to think of Kenny the Breeder, not if it was really Kenny the child-bodied murderer that he remembered. He had pitied Kenny, forever trapped in a body too small to play the Game, destined to be a victim, even if he had changed his fate by killing the compassionate fools that fell for his trick of innocence. He didn't want to have more reason to feel sorry for him. "Methos isn't very active in the Game, but he's still Challenged sometimes. Wouldn't you be safer away from all Immortals?"
"This is my first pregnancy, and I'm scared," Ban said, completely unashamed of his confession. "I don't want to do it alone. And besides, even after the baby's born, I'm still going to be in season for however long my cycle lasts, which means I can become pregnant again. If I leave Methos and the mating urge strikes me, I'll be irresistibly drawn to the nearest old Immortal, which can be anyone, even someone that will hurt me for pleasure, or that completely turns my stomach. I don't want that. I actually love Methos, and I'll be safe with him. I don't really trust anyone else."
. "And I want to see my child," Methos said. "I made Ban promise that if he ever became pregnant, even if it wasn't mine, he was to come to me and I would always have a place for him. I don't want him to give birth somewhere, alone and without any support. I mean, it's not as though he can go to a hospital, not just because of the differences being a Breeder has made in his body, but because of Immortal healing."
"I'll be all right here," Ban said. "Methos will take care of me, and he was trained as a doctor, so I'm sure he can handle anything that goes wrong. I feel safer here with him than I would be if I was trying to do this alone."
Duncan bowed his head in defeat, making a slight 'throwing-away' gesture with his hand. "Because you came here, you're not going to have just Methos," he said. "Joe and I will help too, and maybe Amanda if she wanders through, though she's not really all that good with kids. She tries hard, but... well." He shrugged.
Methos smirked. "You may think you know Amanda, but it looks like you don't know her as well as you think you do. She's a champion with kids, when she tries."
"What do you mean?" Duncan asked.
"Oh come on, MacLeod, it's obvious. There are realms of Amanda-knowledge that you just don't have. She may be extremely high-maintenance at the best of times, but inside she's the thief with a heart of gold. When she tries, kids love her. Just wait until she finds out about this... she's almost as good at spoiling neonates as you are. This kid is going to have some prime swag by the time she's done."
"Dammit, beloved, stop watching all those generation-X TV shows. I'm tired of trying to piece together what you're saying!" Ban gave Methos a mock-glare, though it was spoiled a little by the way his lips twitched and his eyes refused to stop sparkling.
"Hey, I'm the world's oldest Immortal for a reason. I always manage to meld into the background and fit myself into any situation by learning the local moors and customs first thing. The legend of Methos is an infrangible thing of meteoric proportions, never to be deciphered by you or anyone else."
"You always wanted to say that to me, didn't you?" Ban said, lip twitching. "Always got to be the smart ass."
Methos leaned over and pressed a kiss against a pale, gold-tinged porcelain cheek. "That's why you love me. If I had only half the wit, I would never have been able to capture your discerning attention."
"Is that a nice way of saying I'm a snob?" Ban asked in amusement.
"No, of course not. It's just that you have a bit of a reputation for a tougher than usual list of attributes a lover has to meet before they can be with you, that's all. It doesn't make you a relationship snob, just... picky."
"I'm not picky! I'm just careful," Ban said, pushing his lower lip out in a melting pout designed to drum up sympathy from even the most emotionally closed-off people.
"Ah Methos, do you have to be so rough with him?" Joe asked, his eyes locked on that juicy, outthrust lip. Without really noticing what he was doing, he licked his own lips, unable to look away from Ban. There was just something so hypnotic about that pornographic mouth, though Ban's face seen as a whole could be described as almost childishly innocent... he just looked so young and unguarded, destined to be either angel sweet or deliciously wanton.
Not even an iron hard case of heterosexuality could resist Ban's appeal. Everyone wanted to be the first to plunder the depths of his innocence.
Which was a little ridiculous considering the fact that he was thousands of years old. He had seen and done things that were both horrifying and disturbingly seductive, acts so strange that even now they remained unnamed and illegal. He had committed the Kama Sutra to memory and even added a few pages himself. He was not the innocent child mask that he presented himself to be.
Methos' lip curved in amused sympathy as he looked at Joe and Duncan. Both men were falling under Ban's spell, and though he wanted to feel sorry for them, he couldn't quite manage it. Straitlaced MacLeod needed the guilty excitement of a forbidden lust, and Joe Dawson was one man that needed a new mystery to solve. And if ever there was a person that could be described both as forbidden fruit and mysterious, it was Elaban Court. There were just so many levels to him that no one had ever seen. Even Methos, who knew Ban best in all the world, had never managed to uncover ever secret Ban held. It was one of the things that kept him so tantalizingly appealing.
"Don't worry about him," Methos said, jerking a thumb at Ban. "He can more than take care of himself. He's probably better at it than I am."
"Oh no, Methos, no one's better than you," Ban cooed, making big anime eyes. He even managed to get the psychedelic shine down. It was kind of eerie.
Methos shuddered. "Please don't ever look at me like that again."
Ban laughed naughtily. "Poor little Methos, so confused. I knew that there was a reason I came to you, and not just the whole pregnancy thing. You need me to lighten the mood. You're getting just a little too stodgy in your old age."
"Ha, the mood does not need to be lighter and I am most definitely not stodgy, though I am happy to see you." Methos grinned at Ban as he spoke. After a minute of looking at his long-time lover, the amusement faded, leaving the love behind, shining clear and untarnished. "I really am glad you're here."
Ban smiled slightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a little. "Me too."
It was strange how easily Ban fit into life at Seacouver. After a few months, it was almost as if he had always been there. He went to Joe's bar with Methos, shopping with Duncan, trained with both Methos and Duncan (though Duncan insisted on going easy on him), and helped Joe fill in some gaps in the Watcher Chronicles, though he never spoke about himself or other Breeders and Joe never asked for more than Ban would give. All three men were happy to have Ban around, because he cleared away the boredom and gave them a strange sense of belonging, like they had refound a sense of family that they had long since lost. He brought them all closer together and none of them knew what they would have done without him.
They did have some worries to deal with, because even though he had added on a few pounds, Ban continued to look as slender and unpregnant as when he had first arrived. Methos was actually beginning to worry about him and had had several private conversations with Duncan and Joe about it. He didn't want to scare Ban, so he didn't say anything to him.
Ban was already nine months pregnant, and he was still barely showing. The baby should have made an appearance by now, which left them all a bit nervous. None of them knew how long a Breeder was supposed to be pregnant for or how to tell if something had gone terribly wrong.
"Isn't there anyone you can ask?"
Methos looked at Duncan. The two men were alone for once, heading back to Methos' studio apartment. "There are only five known mature Breeders, and they don't talk to anyone outside of their circles. They're carefully guarded... each one has followers--almost worshippers--that guard them twenty-four hours a day, keeping the curious away. Ban was wandering around free because he refused to be 'protected,' and because he hasn't given birth yet. The minute they find out he's actually fertile, they'll try to get him back to one of the Fortresses."
"What are you talking about?" Duncan asked.
Methos blew out a breath, raking a hand through his hair. "Ban and I didn't mention it before because it didn't seem important, but there's something you have to understand about Breeders, MacLeod. They are the future of our people, they are precious and rare and if they die we die. The Society of Asaroth was created for the sole purpose of protecting Breeders, not just from outsiders, but from themselves. The Asaroth charter insists that Breeders cannot be allowed to take chances and risk themselves. They are too important, or at least, that's what the Asaroth say as they lock them up and never let them out."
"They're kept in prison?" Duncan cocked his head, his Highland sense of justice piqued. Methos could practically see him leaping on his white charger and going off to save the poor imprisoned Immortals.
Methos shook his head. "Leave it alone, Duncan," he said softly, intently. "There's nothing you can do for them, they're too hidden. The Asaroth are Immortals and mortals that train their whole lives for the simple purpose of protecting Breeders. The mortals are born from ancient bloodlines and know only their Duty. If you try to break into the Fortresses and steal a Breeder, the Asaroth will kill you. They have no mercy, and you will not be able to talk them out of it because they know that they are right and you are wrong. Leave it alone, you do not want to stir up that bees nest. Besides, we have Ban to worry about.
"If you draw the attention of the Asaroth, they will find out that Ban is here and that he is fertile, and they will take him away, and I won't let you risk him like that. I promised him long ago when the Asaroth were just beginning that if they ever came for him, I would kill him before I would let him go. He does not want to spend the rest of eternity imprisoned 'for his own good' in some powdered boudoir pregnant with the children of nameless Immortals. He values his freedom too much, and it would kill him, though his body would not die.
"And once the Asaroth have him, they will never let him go. Anyone that attacks them is hunted down and killed. Anyone approaches the Breeders that isn't over a thousand years old and fully restrained is killed. And if they have to, to protect their Breeder every Asaroth assigned to him or her will die to get him back. Thousands of Asaroth faithfully serving each Breeder, willing to lay down their life at a moments notice. You cannot save them from their fate, MacLeod, no one can, because the instant they were locked in their Fortresses those Breeders were lost to freedom."
Duncan's lips pressed tight, stubborn. "What do you mean thousand year old Immortals are 'fully restrained'?"
"When an Immortal is brought to a Breeder, even though the pheromone should keep them calm and tractable, there's a chance it won't work. To keep the Breeders safe, the Asaroth blindfold and chain the Immortals they bring into the Fortress, and once the breeding is done, the Immortals are taken away. The Immortals never know where the Fortresses are and never see the Breeders. Mindless instinct takes over when they mate, but when the Immortals return to themselves there must be no chance that they will try to stay in the Fortress or that they will try to take a Breeder for themselves. No, the Asaroth are careful, they drug the Immortals and never let them see where they go, and when all is done, the Immortals think it was all some elaborate dream, or even if they realize that it really happened, there is nothing they can do, because they can never find the Fortress again. And the Breeders are safe in their luxurious prisons."
"How do you know all that?" Duncan asked.
Methos crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at his feet. He nibbled on his lip for a moment, reburying the bleak memories talk of the Asaroth had dredged up. "I thought it was a dream for a long time, until I met Ban. When I realized what he was, I realized that the Breeder I had met before was real, and so was the Fortress and the strange guardians therein. Centuries of research have filled in the gaps of my knowledge, but when they took me, they were just beginning their work. Now their defenses are impregnable and there is no help for the Breeders, even if they wanted to leave."
"Why wouldn't they want to leave?"
Methos snorted a laugh, though there was no humor in it. "The Breeders in the Fortresses have their every whim catered to. They have everything they could ever want, the only thing they don't have is the freedom to leave. They don't have to fight in the Game or even see its machinations. They are kept safe in a life they have lived for centuries, millennia. They are used to their life in their Fortresses and they would not welcome being taken from them. They are happy where they are, content to squeeze out baby after baby without rest."
"That's horrible!" Duncan cried.
"That's the life they live, and they would not thank you for taking them away from it. In trying to rescue the Breeders, it wouldn't just be the Asaroth that you would have to fight. The Breeders themselves would kill you in an instant. So just leave it alone. Our sole worry must be Ban. Forget the others, they are far out of your reach."
Methos hurried his step, forcing Duncan to almost run to catch up. They were almost to the apartment and Methos was suddenly desperate to see Ban's face and know that he was all right. He didn't like thinking about the Asaroth, and he definitely didn't like the thought of Ban in their care.
.
. Ban's Quickening had dwindled down to almost nothing. It was still there sizzling beneath the surface of his skin, but it was almost impossible to sense him from a distance. It was as though he had suddenly become invisible, the pregnancy masking what he was.
Throwing open the door, to Methos' Immortal-sense the apartment could have been empty, though the scent of cooking let him know Ban was there.
"Honey, we're home!" he called, purposely cheerful.
Ban's face peered around the edge of the kitchen door, smiling. "Good, you're right on time. Dinner will be ready in just a minute. Set the table."
Methos bowed mockingly. "Yes, master, you're every wish and desire is my command."
Ban smirked. "That's just the way it's supposed to be." He disappeared back into the kitchen.
Methos finally allowed himself to breathe out. He had been half-holding his breath from the moment he had stepped out of the elevator, wondering if Ban was still here and safe. He let his worry fall away and slapped Duncan on the shoulder, grinning. "Come on, you get to help me set the table."
"Well, I really think that maybe I should be going. You guys need some time alone and..."
Methos slapped Duncan's arm again. "Nonsense, and stop being an idiot. You know Ban's cooking enough for you and would be disappointed if you left before dinner. Stop trying to look all noble and get over there. When he says the food's almost done, then it's almost done."
Duncan smiled and obediently wandered over to the dining area and the cupboard against the wall. He got out the everyday dishes and began to set them out on the table, knowing exactly where they were supposed to go. He'd been eating dinner at Methos' for the past two and a half months and had his own habitual place at the table.
Methos shook his head and got the silverware out of the drawer just below the cupboard. Forks, spoons and knives all engraved with ornate EC's. Ban had brought them with him, a full-set of silverware with his initials right on them, made out of real silver. He had barely brought two days worth of clothes with him, but he had carried his silverware in its velvet-lined cedar case.
Freely able to admit that he loved Ban, Methos still couldn't explain some of the ways the man thought. Riding a bus from the airport to Methos' apartment and only bringing a backpack and duffel bag worth of stuff, which meant a few changes of clothes, a heavy case filled with silverware, two books, his laptop, and six silver wine goblets carefully wrapped in sheepskin and stored in a waterproof metal box. Both of the books were baby books--one a baby name book and the other a guide for pregnant mothers.
Even for someone as willing to leave things behind as Methos, Ban's ability to just dump his past life was amazing. Because even though he had brought things with him, Methos knew that if it had come down to it, Ban would have left even the clothes on his back. Ban wouldn't even blink if he lost everything and had to start over completely from scratch, without even a penny in his pocket. He adapted to every situation.
So the fact that Ban had brought a set of silverware with him meant that they must be important to him. Methos handled them with a casual kind of care, setting them neatly on the table in their place on the folded linen napkins.
"All right!" Ban called, coming through the kitchen door backward. "Dinner's ready. I hope you guys're hungry." He carried the covered casserole dish to the table, his footsteps slow and steady. He wore bright red oven mitts on his hands, the thumb of the right one singed a light brown with the white cotton stuffing showing through the tip.
Methos hurriedly grabbed a heat pad out of the cupboard and laid it on the table for Ban to put the casserole on. "What did you make?" he asked.
Ban smiled and lifted the lid, laying it aside. Methos' nostrils flared and he breathed in the heady aroma of roast beef, potatoes and carrots.
"I was kind of lazy today," Ban said, shrugging a little. "I didn't want to spend hours cooking so I just threw stuff in the oven. You don't mind, do you?" He glanced at Duncan.
"No, this looks good," Duncan said.
"Okay, thanks. I was a little worried, you know, because my falling into the trap of lazy cooking doesn't mean you have to eat it happily. You can complain if you want to, because I know how you guys like your fancy cooking with the frying and the sautéing and the broiling accompanied by the stirring, the whipping and the shredding of vegetable byproducts, and usually I'm happy to do it, but... Today I just... I don't know why, but I felt so tired. I napped most of the day away and I just wanted to cook something easy." Ban looked almost ashamed of himself.
Methos wrapped his arms around his lover, pressing a kiss against the top of his head before resting his cheek against the silky-soft hair. "It's all right. It smells wonderful, and I don't know about Mac, but I actually enjoy a simple meal, and I have been craving protein."
Ban snuggled close against him, wrapping his arms around Methos' waist. "Thanks." He sighed. "I'm glad you're back. I missed you today."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Ban suddenly jerked away, his eyes wide. "Oops, my biscuits!" He hurried back toward the kitchen.
Methos watched him go, a fond smile on his lips. He had always liked having Ban around, it made his long life seem much less lonely.
"This smells really good," Duncan said, leaning over the casserole dish to breathe in the heady aroma.
"Of course it does, and it's delicious too. I've tried Ban's roast before. It's succulent and tender with just the right amount of spices rubbed into the meat, and the vegetables aren't either mushy or too hard. I don't know why he always thinks people will hate it, but he carries on like that every time he makes a roast for other people." Methos shook his head. "I suppose someone might have told him it was terrible once."
"I don't know why anyone would ever say something like that to him," Duncan said. "Ban's so sweet and nice and beautiful and..." he trailed off into silence, color tingeing his ruddy cheeks.
With a sideways glance at Duncan, Methos arranged the serving utensils in front of the roast. It was obvious that Duncan was falling under Ban's spell of charm. It wouldn't be long now before the Highlander would be writing poetry and love songs for the Breeder, maybe bringing him flowers and expensive jewelry if the feelings were allowed to go far enough.
There was just something about Ban that attracted people to him. He was beautiful in so many ways and there were always those that were drawn to him like a moth to a flame, only to burn up in the fire of his perfect beauty. No one could withstand the whole of Ban without having themselves stripped to the bone, and there were very few that could survive such complete spiritual nakedness.
Methos wanted to warn Duncan away, but the words wouldn't come. He knew that Duncan wouldn't listen and believe him--no one ever had before. Once someone saw and desired Ban, there was no turning them away, not even after they hurt themselves.
The kitchen door swung open again and Ban came out with lightly golden biscuits resting in a whicker basket lined with a white linen cloth. "Since I didn't have time to make a full dinner, I made biscuits from scratch." He carried them to the table, setting them down in front of Duncan's place. "Is there any wine?" He glanced around.
"A nice red will go fine with this," Methos said, grabbing a bottle out of the hanging rack in the corner.
"Shouldn't you be drinking beer?" Duncan teased.
Methos gave him a droll look, then grinned. "Beer is a staple of life, but there's no chance that I would ruin Ban's excellent dinner by drinking anything other than what he recommends." He leaned over to press a kiss against Ban's cheek. "I love you," he whispered, just for him to hear.
Ban blushed prettily, the corners of his lips turning up. "Why don't you serve the food?" he asked, taking his seat.
"Aye, aye, mon Capitaine."
They had a nice dinner, though Duncan was a little upset when he realized that Ban was drinking wine.
"Should you be doing that? Isn't it bad for the baby's development, that whole fetal alcohol syndrome thing?" he asked.
Ban smiled a little. "Don't worry, Duncan, it's all right. My body processes everything I eat or drink before passing it on to the baby. It's one of the perks of being a Breeder. I could drink a whole brewery's worth of beer or empty out a wine cellar and even though I'll be drunk off my ass, the baby will be perfectly fine. My body filters everything so the baby only gets what it needs and nothing else.
"It's a good thing too," he added, "since Laevka, a Breeder I met once, was a complete alcoholic. He refused to stop drinking and spent most of his life in a daze. If he hadn't been a Breeder, someone would have taken his head. He was just such easy pickings. But every baby he had was healthy, and that's all that matters: the continuation of the species, right? Besides, he was a real asshole. At least when he was drinking you could be assured that he was going to pass out and finally shut up for once."
Duncan blinked a little at that. For some reason, Duncan was always surprised whenever Ban swore; he just seemed so young and innocent and delicate and...
Ban laughed. "Sorry, I just never liked that guy. When they came up with the word 'shit-head,' they were talking about him."
Methos had been watching Duncan. He knew that the other Immortal tended to judge people by their apparent age. And like with Amanda, Duncan ignored the centuries Ban had lived before he'd been born and treated him like the boy he appeared. Methos had caught Duncan giving him sideways looks, wondering if he had taken advantage of Ban.
On one hand, it was amusing to watch Duncan's stiff Highland worldview assist him in making an ass of himself, but on the other hand it was a little painful to always have the worst thought of him. Once Duncan formed a bad opinion of someone, he never let himself change it. And of course, if he thought of someone as a friend, he wouldn't act against them even if they turned evil and tried to kill him and everyone else he knew. He was just so stubborn about some things.
Ban sipped from his wine again, completely ignoring Duncan's doubtful look. "I wonder when this baby is going to be born."
Methos shared a quick look with Duncan. "Uh, it's hard to say," he said.
Ban looked at him. "The baby should have been born by now and I'm not even barely showing. Do you think maybe something's wrong?"
Methos shook his head. "No, I just think that Immortal pregnancies are a hard thing to judge because there are so few Breeders. Without another Breeder to ask, there's no way to know if this isn't the way it's supposed to be. First pregnancies may be longer than later ones. We just don't know."
Ban cupped his belly with one hand. "I still have to worry," he said. "This is my first time and I don't want anything to go wrong with it."
Methos poked at his piece of roast, watching as the meat fell apart under his delicate touch. "You shouldn't worry," he said carefully. "I thought that we would be able to handle this ourselves, but I know now that we can't. I tracked down Benson. He's already in the process of relocating his practice here. In two weeks everything should be settled and we'll go see him and have you checked out. All right?"
Ban gave him such a bright smile he felt about twenty feet tall. "Thank you! I was just so worried, but I didn't want you to be upset so I didn't say anything. But... the baby hasn't been growing at all and I don't want to find out that it's... dead... and my Immortality was just keeping it inside me, and it was going to stay in there forever and..."
Methos was on his feet and embracing Ban before he was finished speaking, trying to sooth Ban's hysteria. "Come on, just calm down a little, it's all right," he murmured as he stroked soothing circles between Ban's shoulder blades.
He could almost have kicked himself for the way he had let Ban stew in his fear without even noticing that he was worried. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," Methos whispered. "I should have known you were upset and helped you."
Ban hugged Methos' around the waist, pressing his face tight against his lover's chest. "I didn't want you to know I was upset. I didn't think that both of us needed to worry about something we couldn't even change."
Methos pressed a kiss against the top of Ban's head. "I had some worries myself," he admitted."
Ban pulled away with a tearful smile. "Just to have you admit it makes it worth it to fall apart like I did. Now," he glanced at Duncan, who'd been staring down at the table trying not to watch them, "let's finish eating dinner. And hey," he added more cheerfully, "I rented some movies. They're supposed to be really good. The movie store nerds were very excited describing them to me. Though I think one of them thought I was a girl, 'cause he called me 'ma'am' and was hitting on me. It was kind of funny."
"Well, you are a little girly," Methos teased, "and always have been."
Ban stood up and twirled in place, his hands a little out to the side. "I may not look like I'm pregnant, but I'm starting to get the look that I someday might be. My chest's gotten a little... ripe looking, and I've noticed that my hips look a little more flared." He gave Methos a pouting look. "I don't know whether to be pleased or not. I look like a teenaged girl. A lot of padding at the chest and a nice sundress, and poof... I'd be Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If I let it grow out, then I've even got the hair for it too."
He sat back down and picked up his fork. "I hope I go back to normal when this is all over. The hormones are killing me. Less testosterone, more estrogen, and poof! I'm a native of mood swing land."
"He's always been a bit moody," Methos mock-whispered to Duncan, who wasn't brave enough to laugh after seeing the deadly glare Ban shot at Methos.
"I have not been moody!" he yelled. "Why are you always so mean to me?" his voice lowered, taking on a teary, husky quality.
Uh oh, Methos thought, bracing himself for the waterworks.
Instead of crying, Ban began laughing. "You should see your face! It's frickin' hilarious." He reached out and clasped Methos' hand in his. "Don't worry, love, I know I've been a bit... moody lately, but that doesn't mean I've completely lost all control of myself. I was just playing with you. I promise. I would never be that mean to you."
Methos breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh thank the Gods. If you had really lost yourself that much, I would have already been out the door and heading for Holy Ground."
"Now that's not a very nice thing to say, Methos," Duncan objected.
"You've never seen him in a mood," Methos told him. "It's not pretty."
Ban looked at him too. "It's really not. You don't want to see me out of control."
"People die, MacLeod, lots of people. He is a force of nature when he's pissed."