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Entry tags:
Immortal X-part 1
Author: Feygan
Completion Date: WIP
Fandom: Highlander
Pairings: Methos/Ban
Warnings: violence, language, mpreg
Disclaimer: All characters are borrowed for entertainment use only. No ownership claimed by me.
Home: http://www.darkgesture.com/fanfiction.htm
Summary: Someone from out of Methos' past makes a surprise reappearance and brings some startling news.
The first part of Immortal X...
.
.
. He felt a sense of warm contentment listening to his Immortals squabble like children, even if they weren't officially his anymore. When they really got going, Duncan and Methos were like a runaway freight train, and without superpowers it wasn't like he could really stop them. All he could do to try and curtail their childish tendencies was to give them his patented "grown up" look and shame them into behaving like adults. But sometimes not even that slowed them down.
Joe watched the two Immortals. Methos was lounging back on Duncan's black leather couch with a booted foot propped on the perfectly glossed coffee table, a beer clutched in one hand like he was afraid someone was going to take it away from him. Duncan was on the recliner, sipping a glass of cognac, a disbelieving look on his face.
"I'm telling you, MacLeod, there is no way in hell eighteenth century France was..." Methos broke off his diatribe in mid-sentence, his head lifting and turning toward the door. His muscles had gone tense and his right boot slipped off the table with a dull scraping sound of scratched lacquer.
Duncan slipped to his feet, setting his glass on the table as he reached down to the floor next to him for his katana. "I've got it," he said.
Joe always got a bit nervous whenever an unknown Immortal entered the picture. No matter how many years he had hung around Duncan MacLeod, he had never been able to lose his worry. He really didn't want to see Mac's head away from his body.
He knew perfectly well that it was stupid to be friends with an Immortal. Because even though they were supposed to live forever, most of them didn't have the life expectancy of the average mortal. A lot of the young ones died young, and the old ones that weren't smart enough to lay low died in challenges to ones that hadn't lived even half so long.
And with as many challenges as Duncan insisted on accepting and with the kinds of characters that kept showing up on his doorstep looking for a fight... Joe didn't have much hope that Duncan was going to live past him. The Highlander was just too much the tempting target and everyone wanted his head, even Immortals that had stopped Hunting years before.
* * *
The Buzz that had accompanied the unknown Immortal was strong enough to set his teeth on edge. Nervous fingers were running up and down his spine and for the first time in a long time he was actually a little afraid.
He didn't know who was out there, but it was someone powerful enough that he didn't know if he wanted to face them.
Years of killing had finally drilled into him a true longing for peace, something he had never really had before, no matter what he had said or tried to do. He wouldn't run from a challenge, but he wasn't actively going out and seeking people to kill. It seemed as though he had finally decided to grow up. That or he was about to reach the breaking point after all the heads he had taken--his subconscious warning him of Quickening overload.
With his sword bare in his hand, he carefully opened the door, bracing himself just in case the person on the other side decided to throw himself through. That had happened one too many times.
Duncan felt his eyes widen a little at the figure patiently waiting on his doorstep.
From the feel of the Buzz in his head, he had been expecting someone a little more... something than the person waiting.
"Is... Alex here?" the voice was soft and cultured.
Duncan looked at the boy. He couldn't have been more than seventeen when he died his First Death--had probably been younger--and was short and slight. He didn't look like he could wield a sword with any kind of skill and had the kind of body-type that didn't usually survive long in the Game. Except that the Buzz on him said he was dangerous, the Big Bad Wolf dressed up like a lost little boy.
"Um," Duncan looked over his shoulder, "Alex?"
"What is it?" Methos asked. He looked like he was completely relaxed, but Duncan could tell he would be up and off the couch at any sign of danger and that someone would die. He didn't often wear his dangerousness where others could see it, but it was there right now.
"There's someone here to see you."
"Who is it?" Methos sounded wary.
Duncan looked at the boy. "Who are you?"
"Alex, it's me," the boy called loudly, trying to peer around Duncan.
Methos was up off the couch and halfway across the room before anyone could even blink. "Ban!"
Duncan barely got out of the way as Methos leapt through the door and wrapped his arms tight around the boy. "What are you doing here? Why didn't you call? How are you? I thought we weren't going to meet for another twenty years!"
The smile the boy wore was one of the sweetest expressions Duncan had ever seen as he lay his head on Methos' shoulder. "I missed you, and there's... there's something I need to tell you, something really important."
"Well, come inside, come inside." Methos grasped the boy's hand and pulled him into the apartment.
Duncan closed the door and followed them over to the couch. He didn't quite know what was going on, but he wanted to find out. And to catch a glimpse at Methos' life away from Seacouver... it would satisfy some of the curiosity he had always had. Though he had to hope the answers he got wouldn't be as bad as the whole Horsemen fiasco.
"Ban, I want you to meet Joe Dawson and Duncan MacLeod, my friends. Guys, this is Elaban Court, but you can call him Ban." Methos looked at Ban. "These are the ones I was telling you about. The Highlander and his Watcher, well, retired Watcher cum friend to both of us."
"Alex!" Joe sounded shocked.
Methos threw himself on the couch and waved a hand lazily. "Don't worry, he already knows about Watchers and everything else." He pulled Ban down next to him, nestling the boy into the crook of his arm. "He knows who I am too."
Duncan sat back down into his chair, eyeing the stranger curiously.
Ban was about 5"6 with dark blond hair and large blue-gray eyes. He was dressed in blue jeans and a long black coat buttoned all the way up to his chin. There was something fragile about him that went beyond his innocent face and young body.
"You're Duncan MacLeod? Al..." he stopped and changed his mind mid-word, "Methos has told me a lot about you, but I'm really happy to meet you in person. Immortals all over the world are talking about you, and I was curious to see if you really were like they said."
"It's nice to meet a friend of Methos' that isn't trying to kill us," Duncan said with a charming smile. "How do you know him from?"
Ban glanced at Methos, then shrugged. "We met about three thousand years ago. I was on my way back from hunting when he wandered through the area. I hadn't felt an Immortal in about fifty years when it happened, so I didn't quite know what to expect. But instead of challenging me, Methos just seemed to want some company."
"It was after I'd left the Horsemen and I was kind of at loose ends. I was glad to find someone to hang around with that really didn't seem as if they wanted to kill me or who didn't want me to go massacring any villages or anything. Not to forget the fact that he's really attractive--especially wearing rough-cured leather and with feathers in his braid." Methos reached out to touch Ban's hair. "I still can't believe you cut it. It was your crowning glory, and now it barely curls around your ears."
"You're not going to go on about that again, are you? My hair hasn't been long since the sixties, let it go." Ban sounded long suffering, like a longtime spouse.
"But it was so pretty. I can't wait until long hair is fashionable again and you'll grow it back out. I loved running my hands through it." Methos twisted a lock around his fingers, stroking lightly, a dreamy look on his face.
Ban rolled his eyes. "You are such a child. Long hair was great for awhile, but after a couple thousand years all together, I'm tired of it and I don't exactly miss it. The only reason I had long hair in the first place was because there weren't any barbers to cut it for me. Now I go to a stylist and voila, I have the hair I want, no fuss no muss and no chicken feathers. Now shut up about me growing it long again. The only way that's gonna happen is if I get really lazy."
"Ooh, so there's still hope."
A tiny smile tugged at Ban's lips and he curled in close against Methos' side. "You never change, you know that? Different names and different mannerisms, but still the same inside where it counts. I'm glad of that. I really missed you."
Duncan shifted a little on his seat, uncomfortable with all the history flowing around him. This boy was almost as old as Methos, they had shared things he had never been a part of and probably couldn't understand. Just thinking about how much the world had changed in four hundred years, he couldn't imagine three thousand. And Methos had been someone else then, Adam Pierson not even a fragment of an idea, and Alexander Pierson nothing at all.
Glancing at the ex-Watcher, he found that Joe was just looking fascinated by Methos' friend. There was not a bit of discomfort about him.
"I don't think I've ever heard about an Elaban Court," Joe said. "Anyone over the age of three thousand is on the Watchers' Close Watch List, but I've never heard of him."
Ban turned a smile on him. "That's because I'm unrecorded."
"What?"
Methos nodded. "It's true. Ban here is the original invisible Immortal, even better at it than me. No matter how good I am at disappearing, Methos still has a Chronicle. Ban doesn't, and I'd like it to stay that way, Joe." He sent a piercing look at the ex-Watcher. "He came here to see me, so I don't want his first sighting to be because of me. Just leave him out of this quarter's report, and I know you still send in reports to make up for that incompetent they've got Watching Mac lately."
Ban lay a hand on his leg. "It's all right, beloved. My cover's about to be blown anyway."
Methos looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"
Ban shrugged a little, his face serious. "That's one of the reasons why I'm here. It's finally happened... my first."
Duncan was shocked that Methos could ever go so pale. The ancient Immortal swayed and only Ban's hand around his arm kept him from slipping off the couch. "How did this happen? I thought..."
"So did I, but it's too late for any of that now. Once it's happened, it's happened, and I'm not going to do anything to change it. I'm in season, and here I am. I thought maybe if I tamped down my Quickening and surrounded myself with people recognizably powerful, I could throw off any Head Hunters that might make their way past me."
Methos forced a deep breath and pulled himself straight on the couch. He reached out and wrapped his arms tight around Ban, burying his face in Ban's neck. "It's all right. You can stay with me. I'll protect you and the baby."
Duncan's eyes felt huge in his face and he shared a shocked look with Joe.
'Baby?' Joe mouthed.
Duncan shrugged his confusion. He had no idea what was going on here, but he wanted to find out.
* * *
. Fear, it had been his constant companion for so long that he barely knew it was even there, not until it slipped its dormancy and burned that much brighter. And with fear thrumming wild through him for the first time in centuries, he did what he had always done... he ran to Methos.
Wrapped up in those warm arms, with the side of his face pressed against Methos' beating heart, he felt that maybe everything would be all right somehow. At least he wasn't all alone.
He had never been able to even explain how Methos always made him feel safe. Even if they didn't see each other for a million years, he had the surety that one touch of Methos' hand would be like coming home.
"We should have used a condom," Methos said, stroking Ban's head.
Ban shrugged his shoulders. "It doesn't matter. This was bound to happen sometime, and I'm just glad it was with you. I don't know what I would have done if instinct had kicked in and the nearest old Immortal was a complete bastard... someone like Kronos or something. I'd probably kill myself."
Methos' hand fell on his shoulder and gripped tight. "Don't even say that. Even if it had happened with someone else, I would want you to come to me. I love you, and it wouldn't matter to me."
Ban snuggled closer to the older man. "I'm still glad it's you." And he was.
From the first moment he had realized what he was, horror had been a niggling worm in his gut. To be driven by instinct to mate with the strongest, oldest Immortal he could find and give birth to their child, and it didn't matter if it was an evil that made his skin crawl and the voices in his head scream. For years he had been dreading the day when the mating urge took over and his nightmare came true, but as time past and it didn't happen, he had allowed himself to become complacent. The fear was still there in the back of his mind, but it had faded as the hope grew in him that it was never going to happen.
Then a couple of months ago the home pregnancy tests his suspicions had forced him to take had come back positive. He was at least four months pregnant, but at least he had the comfort of knowing the father was someone he liked, his oldest and greatest friend, someone that he actually loved.
He wasn't exactly ecstatic about having a child right now, but he was desperately glad that at least it was going to be with Methos.
"Why don't you take off your coat and let me see," Methos suggested. His voice was so gentle that it made Ban want to cry. Methos wasn't supposed to be so nicey-nice. He was naturally a tough old bastard even with the people he really cared about. A nice Methos went against the natural order of things.
Ban wrapped his arms tight around himself and pulled a bit away from Methos. He still wanted the warmth of his lover around him, but at the same time he didn't want to be looked at. He had never really believed that this could happen to him.
"Come on, Ban, let me see," Methos wheedled. "That's my baby too, and I want to get to know it better. Let me have a look see."
What choice do I have? Ban thought, his lips curving downward unhappily. He's going to have to see sometime, and I really don't want to have to deal with a pouty Methos. He's enough trouble when he's just being himself.
With a heavy sigh, he unbuttoned his coat and slipped it off, draping it across the back of the couch.
He could feel everyone's eyes on him and felt extremely self-conscious, even knowing there wasn't much to see. He was still about as slender as he had always been, though his stomach was just a bit plump and distended, not really enough to be noticeable. It wasn't like people on the street were going to be pointing and staring at him, but he knew that he was gaining weight and that was all that mattered. It made him uncomfortable to be looked at, especially knowing what he was going to look like in the upcoming months.
Ban held his arms a little away from his body, letting them look their fill, knowing that it had to be done. Really though, he just wanted to wrap his arms tight around himself and hide.
"Hm," Methos said. "I can't even tell that you're pregnant. You don't even look like you're showing at all."
Ban shrugged like it didn't matter that they were all looking at him. He locked his eyes on Methos, ignoring everything else. "I don't look it yet, but I'm definitely pregnant, and eventually I'm going to start blimping out, and I figure I better be ready for that. Which is why I'm here."
"Don't worry," Methos said. "We always knew this day would come, and even if it wasn't mine, I'd still take care of you."
"Lucky it is yours, though," Ban said. "I don't know what I would have done if the Urge had kicked in and the only Old One nearby had been someone completely disgusting. I would have regained control of myself afterward and been stuck with a baby I probably wouldn't have been able to look at. I think that's why a lot of Breeders end up dumping their kids when they're just a few hours old. They don't want to be reminded of what the Urge made them do, or rather, who the Urge made them do."
A little smirk twitched Methos' lips, but his eyes were still locked on Ban's still mostly flat belly. "Come here," he said.
Ban edged closer, his head cocking in question, wondering what Methos was going to do.
"When are you due?" Methos asked.
"I don't know, this is my first pregnancy." Ban couldn't help sounding a little irritated. He'd been asking himself that for months, ever since that first pregnancy test came back positive. He wasn't showing much, but he knew he was far enough along that his stomach should have been sticking out. It made him wonder how long Immortal pregnancies lasted, and he couldn't help being afraid, and thus irritated about it. For all he knew, he could end up being pregnant for years, like a whale carrying its calf.
"Then I suppose we're going to have to get looked at by a OB-GYN as soon as possible. You have to be at least six months pregnant, but you are only showing about..." Methos reached pressed a hand against Ban's stomach, sensitive fingertips prodding gently. "I would say you're only about three months along. For all we know, Immortal physiology could leave you pregnant for ten to twelve months instead of nine."
"Great, that's something to look forward to." Ban sighed heavily. "I thought you weren't supposed to upset the pregnant person?"
"Oh, that only counts in the ninth month. I can tease you right up until you're about to deliver."
Ban slapped him on the arm. "Meanie. I don't want to be all bloated. Why can't baby's just pop out fully born without the whole pregnancy thing?"
"Then baby's wouldn't be worth as much on the black market."
Ban slapped him again. "That's sick. If I hadn't known you for so long, I wouldn't talk to you ever again just for saying that. Bastard."
Methos leaned in and pressed a kiss next to Ban's ear. "I was just joking. You know I love you, right?"
Ban gave him a sideways glance and crossed his arms over his chest, pretending to be angry. Then he cracked and a little smile twitched his lips. "It's all right. I forgive you for being a complete and unmitigated ass. You just can't help yourself. I think it might be genetic."
"Oh no, that means the baby's going to be a smart ass too. What will we do?" Duncan said.
Ban looked at the man, giving him a sweet smile. "I guess we'll all just have to try and alleviate the overpowering stench of Methos' influence on the child, huh? We have to save the baby from himself."
"Or herself," Methos said. "I always wanted to have a daughter of my own to spoil. There's just something so appealing about the thought of being able to terrorize poor stupid boys that get too close to her."
"You're incredibly evil, you know that?" Ban said, giving him a sideways grin.
Methos nodded, and gently pushed Ban's arms aside so he could lay his hand against the still flat stomach. There was a listening look on his face, like he thought he could somehow feel the baby already. It was almost sweet that someone so old could still be so human.
"I really do love you," Ban said, his voice low. He could feel his eyes burning. "I am more glad than you could ever know that you are the father of this baby and not someone else."
The side of Methos' mouth quirked. "Me too."
* * *
It was hard to watch Methos being so close to someone else, but Duncan knew he had no right to feel jealous. He had had his chance with Methos, and thrown it away. It was time for him to step back and let the old man have his happiness. Even if it did feel like he was ripping a huge chunk out of himself.
Ban was a beautiful boy, though he had been awfully young when he had died his First Death, in his mid-to-late teens. His cheeks were smooth, free from even the slightest down. He was slender and almost delicately proportioned. It was hard to imagine how he had survived in the Game for as long as he had. He looked like he probably should have died in his first week. Yet from what Methos had said, Ban was at least a thousand years old, and the feel of him in Duncan's head... His Presence was awesome.
The way Ban looked was just so deceptive that Duncan might have doubted his senses, but he knew that Ban couldn't possibly be as sweet as he appeared. There was danger wrapped up in that image of a young boy, danger and beauty and lust.
Where did that last come from? Duncan wondered.
He couldn't help the way his eyes were drawn to Ban, drinking him in completely. There was just something so mesmerizing about him, something that made Duncan's libido stand up and bark.
Strange attractors were at work, and Duncan didn't quite know what it all meant. But Elaban Court certainly was beautiful.
* * *
Completion Date: WIP
Fandom: Highlander
Pairings: Methos/Ban
Warnings: violence, language, mpreg
Disclaimer: All characters are borrowed for entertainment use only. No ownership claimed by me.
Home: http://www.darkgesture.com/fanfiction.htm
Summary: Someone from out of Methos' past makes a surprise reappearance and brings some startling news.
The first part of Immortal X...
.
.
. He felt a sense of warm contentment listening to his Immortals squabble like children, even if they weren't officially his anymore. When they really got going, Duncan and Methos were like a runaway freight train, and without superpowers it wasn't like he could really stop them. All he could do to try and curtail their childish tendencies was to give them his patented "grown up" look and shame them into behaving like adults. But sometimes not even that slowed them down.
Joe watched the two Immortals. Methos was lounging back on Duncan's black leather couch with a booted foot propped on the perfectly glossed coffee table, a beer clutched in one hand like he was afraid someone was going to take it away from him. Duncan was on the recliner, sipping a glass of cognac, a disbelieving look on his face.
"I'm telling you, MacLeod, there is no way in hell eighteenth century France was..." Methos broke off his diatribe in mid-sentence, his head lifting and turning toward the door. His muscles had gone tense and his right boot slipped off the table with a dull scraping sound of scratched lacquer.
Duncan slipped to his feet, setting his glass on the table as he reached down to the floor next to him for his katana. "I've got it," he said.
Joe always got a bit nervous whenever an unknown Immortal entered the picture. No matter how many years he had hung around Duncan MacLeod, he had never been able to lose his worry. He really didn't want to see Mac's head away from his body.
He knew perfectly well that it was stupid to be friends with an Immortal. Because even though they were supposed to live forever, most of them didn't have the life expectancy of the average mortal. A lot of the young ones died young, and the old ones that weren't smart enough to lay low died in challenges to ones that hadn't lived even half so long.
And with as many challenges as Duncan insisted on accepting and with the kinds of characters that kept showing up on his doorstep looking for a fight... Joe didn't have much hope that Duncan was going to live past him. The Highlander was just too much the tempting target and everyone wanted his head, even Immortals that had stopped Hunting years before.
* * *
The Buzz that had accompanied the unknown Immortal was strong enough to set his teeth on edge. Nervous fingers were running up and down his spine and for the first time in a long time he was actually a little afraid.
He didn't know who was out there, but it was someone powerful enough that he didn't know if he wanted to face them.
Years of killing had finally drilled into him a true longing for peace, something he had never really had before, no matter what he had said or tried to do. He wouldn't run from a challenge, but he wasn't actively going out and seeking people to kill. It seemed as though he had finally decided to grow up. That or he was about to reach the breaking point after all the heads he had taken--his subconscious warning him of Quickening overload.
With his sword bare in his hand, he carefully opened the door, bracing himself just in case the person on the other side decided to throw himself through. That had happened one too many times.
Duncan felt his eyes widen a little at the figure patiently waiting on his doorstep.
From the feel of the Buzz in his head, he had been expecting someone a little more... something than the person waiting.
"Is... Alex here?" the voice was soft and cultured.
Duncan looked at the boy. He couldn't have been more than seventeen when he died his First Death--had probably been younger--and was short and slight. He didn't look like he could wield a sword with any kind of skill and had the kind of body-type that didn't usually survive long in the Game. Except that the Buzz on him said he was dangerous, the Big Bad Wolf dressed up like a lost little boy.
"Um," Duncan looked over his shoulder, "Alex?"
"What is it?" Methos asked. He looked like he was completely relaxed, but Duncan could tell he would be up and off the couch at any sign of danger and that someone would die. He didn't often wear his dangerousness where others could see it, but it was there right now.
"There's someone here to see you."
"Who is it?" Methos sounded wary.
Duncan looked at the boy. "Who are you?"
"Alex, it's me," the boy called loudly, trying to peer around Duncan.
Methos was up off the couch and halfway across the room before anyone could even blink. "Ban!"
Duncan barely got out of the way as Methos leapt through the door and wrapped his arms tight around the boy. "What are you doing here? Why didn't you call? How are you? I thought we weren't going to meet for another twenty years!"
The smile the boy wore was one of the sweetest expressions Duncan had ever seen as he lay his head on Methos' shoulder. "I missed you, and there's... there's something I need to tell you, something really important."
"Well, come inside, come inside." Methos grasped the boy's hand and pulled him into the apartment.
Duncan closed the door and followed them over to the couch. He didn't quite know what was going on, but he wanted to find out. And to catch a glimpse at Methos' life away from Seacouver... it would satisfy some of the curiosity he had always had. Though he had to hope the answers he got wouldn't be as bad as the whole Horsemen fiasco.
"Ban, I want you to meet Joe Dawson and Duncan MacLeod, my friends. Guys, this is Elaban Court, but you can call him Ban." Methos looked at Ban. "These are the ones I was telling you about. The Highlander and his Watcher, well, retired Watcher cum friend to both of us."
"Alex!" Joe sounded shocked.
Methos threw himself on the couch and waved a hand lazily. "Don't worry, he already knows about Watchers and everything else." He pulled Ban down next to him, nestling the boy into the crook of his arm. "He knows who I am too."
Duncan sat back down into his chair, eyeing the stranger curiously.
Ban was about 5"6 with dark blond hair and large blue-gray eyes. He was dressed in blue jeans and a long black coat buttoned all the way up to his chin. There was something fragile about him that went beyond his innocent face and young body.
"You're Duncan MacLeod? Al..." he stopped and changed his mind mid-word, "Methos has told me a lot about you, but I'm really happy to meet you in person. Immortals all over the world are talking about you, and I was curious to see if you really were like they said."
"It's nice to meet a friend of Methos' that isn't trying to kill us," Duncan said with a charming smile. "How do you know him from?"
Ban glanced at Methos, then shrugged. "We met about three thousand years ago. I was on my way back from hunting when he wandered through the area. I hadn't felt an Immortal in about fifty years when it happened, so I didn't quite know what to expect. But instead of challenging me, Methos just seemed to want some company."
"It was after I'd left the Horsemen and I was kind of at loose ends. I was glad to find someone to hang around with that really didn't seem as if they wanted to kill me or who didn't want me to go massacring any villages or anything. Not to forget the fact that he's really attractive--especially wearing rough-cured leather and with feathers in his braid." Methos reached out to touch Ban's hair. "I still can't believe you cut it. It was your crowning glory, and now it barely curls around your ears."
"You're not going to go on about that again, are you? My hair hasn't been long since the sixties, let it go." Ban sounded long suffering, like a longtime spouse.
"But it was so pretty. I can't wait until long hair is fashionable again and you'll grow it back out. I loved running my hands through it." Methos twisted a lock around his fingers, stroking lightly, a dreamy look on his face.
Ban rolled his eyes. "You are such a child. Long hair was great for awhile, but after a couple thousand years all together, I'm tired of it and I don't exactly miss it. The only reason I had long hair in the first place was because there weren't any barbers to cut it for me. Now I go to a stylist and voila, I have the hair I want, no fuss no muss and no chicken feathers. Now shut up about me growing it long again. The only way that's gonna happen is if I get really lazy."
"Ooh, so there's still hope."
A tiny smile tugged at Ban's lips and he curled in close against Methos' side. "You never change, you know that? Different names and different mannerisms, but still the same inside where it counts. I'm glad of that. I really missed you."
Duncan shifted a little on his seat, uncomfortable with all the history flowing around him. This boy was almost as old as Methos, they had shared things he had never been a part of and probably couldn't understand. Just thinking about how much the world had changed in four hundred years, he couldn't imagine three thousand. And Methos had been someone else then, Adam Pierson not even a fragment of an idea, and Alexander Pierson nothing at all.
Glancing at the ex-Watcher, he found that Joe was just looking fascinated by Methos' friend. There was not a bit of discomfort about him.
"I don't think I've ever heard about an Elaban Court," Joe said. "Anyone over the age of three thousand is on the Watchers' Close Watch List, but I've never heard of him."
Ban turned a smile on him. "That's because I'm unrecorded."
"What?"
Methos nodded. "It's true. Ban here is the original invisible Immortal, even better at it than me. No matter how good I am at disappearing, Methos still has a Chronicle. Ban doesn't, and I'd like it to stay that way, Joe." He sent a piercing look at the ex-Watcher. "He came here to see me, so I don't want his first sighting to be because of me. Just leave him out of this quarter's report, and I know you still send in reports to make up for that incompetent they've got Watching Mac lately."
Ban lay a hand on his leg. "It's all right, beloved. My cover's about to be blown anyway."
Methos looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"
Ban shrugged a little, his face serious. "That's one of the reasons why I'm here. It's finally happened... my first."
Duncan was shocked that Methos could ever go so pale. The ancient Immortal swayed and only Ban's hand around his arm kept him from slipping off the couch. "How did this happen? I thought..."
"So did I, but it's too late for any of that now. Once it's happened, it's happened, and I'm not going to do anything to change it. I'm in season, and here I am. I thought maybe if I tamped down my Quickening and surrounded myself with people recognizably powerful, I could throw off any Head Hunters that might make their way past me."
Methos forced a deep breath and pulled himself straight on the couch. He reached out and wrapped his arms tight around Ban, burying his face in Ban's neck. "It's all right. You can stay with me. I'll protect you and the baby."
Duncan's eyes felt huge in his face and he shared a shocked look with Joe.
'Baby?' Joe mouthed.
Duncan shrugged his confusion. He had no idea what was going on here, but he wanted to find out.
* * *
. Fear, it had been his constant companion for so long that he barely knew it was even there, not until it slipped its dormancy and burned that much brighter. And with fear thrumming wild through him for the first time in centuries, he did what he had always done... he ran to Methos.
Wrapped up in those warm arms, with the side of his face pressed against Methos' beating heart, he felt that maybe everything would be all right somehow. At least he wasn't all alone.
He had never been able to even explain how Methos always made him feel safe. Even if they didn't see each other for a million years, he had the surety that one touch of Methos' hand would be like coming home.
"We should have used a condom," Methos said, stroking Ban's head.
Ban shrugged his shoulders. "It doesn't matter. This was bound to happen sometime, and I'm just glad it was with you. I don't know what I would have done if instinct had kicked in and the nearest old Immortal was a complete bastard... someone like Kronos or something. I'd probably kill myself."
Methos' hand fell on his shoulder and gripped tight. "Don't even say that. Even if it had happened with someone else, I would want you to come to me. I love you, and it wouldn't matter to me."
Ban snuggled closer to the older man. "I'm still glad it's you." And he was.
From the first moment he had realized what he was, horror had been a niggling worm in his gut. To be driven by instinct to mate with the strongest, oldest Immortal he could find and give birth to their child, and it didn't matter if it was an evil that made his skin crawl and the voices in his head scream. For years he had been dreading the day when the mating urge took over and his nightmare came true, but as time past and it didn't happen, he had allowed himself to become complacent. The fear was still there in the back of his mind, but it had faded as the hope grew in him that it was never going to happen.
Then a couple of months ago the home pregnancy tests his suspicions had forced him to take had come back positive. He was at least four months pregnant, but at least he had the comfort of knowing the father was someone he liked, his oldest and greatest friend, someone that he actually loved.
He wasn't exactly ecstatic about having a child right now, but he was desperately glad that at least it was going to be with Methos.
"Why don't you take off your coat and let me see," Methos suggested. His voice was so gentle that it made Ban want to cry. Methos wasn't supposed to be so nicey-nice. He was naturally a tough old bastard even with the people he really cared about. A nice Methos went against the natural order of things.
Ban wrapped his arms tight around himself and pulled a bit away from Methos. He still wanted the warmth of his lover around him, but at the same time he didn't want to be looked at. He had never really believed that this could happen to him.
"Come on, Ban, let me see," Methos wheedled. "That's my baby too, and I want to get to know it better. Let me have a look see."
What choice do I have? Ban thought, his lips curving downward unhappily. He's going to have to see sometime, and I really don't want to have to deal with a pouty Methos. He's enough trouble when he's just being himself.
With a heavy sigh, he unbuttoned his coat and slipped it off, draping it across the back of the couch.
He could feel everyone's eyes on him and felt extremely self-conscious, even knowing there wasn't much to see. He was still about as slender as he had always been, though his stomach was just a bit plump and distended, not really enough to be noticeable. It wasn't like people on the street were going to be pointing and staring at him, but he knew that he was gaining weight and that was all that mattered. It made him uncomfortable to be looked at, especially knowing what he was going to look like in the upcoming months.
Ban held his arms a little away from his body, letting them look their fill, knowing that it had to be done. Really though, he just wanted to wrap his arms tight around himself and hide.
"Hm," Methos said. "I can't even tell that you're pregnant. You don't even look like you're showing at all."
Ban shrugged like it didn't matter that they were all looking at him. He locked his eyes on Methos, ignoring everything else. "I don't look it yet, but I'm definitely pregnant, and eventually I'm going to start blimping out, and I figure I better be ready for that. Which is why I'm here."
"Don't worry," Methos said. "We always knew this day would come, and even if it wasn't mine, I'd still take care of you."
"Lucky it is yours, though," Ban said. "I don't know what I would have done if the Urge had kicked in and the only Old One nearby had been someone completely disgusting. I would have regained control of myself afterward and been stuck with a baby I probably wouldn't have been able to look at. I think that's why a lot of Breeders end up dumping their kids when they're just a few hours old. They don't want to be reminded of what the Urge made them do, or rather, who the Urge made them do."
A little smirk twitched Methos' lips, but his eyes were still locked on Ban's still mostly flat belly. "Come here," he said.
Ban edged closer, his head cocking in question, wondering what Methos was going to do.
"When are you due?" Methos asked.
"I don't know, this is my first pregnancy." Ban couldn't help sounding a little irritated. He'd been asking himself that for months, ever since that first pregnancy test came back positive. He wasn't showing much, but he knew he was far enough along that his stomach should have been sticking out. It made him wonder how long Immortal pregnancies lasted, and he couldn't help being afraid, and thus irritated about it. For all he knew, he could end up being pregnant for years, like a whale carrying its calf.
"Then I suppose we're going to have to get looked at by a OB-GYN as soon as possible. You have to be at least six months pregnant, but you are only showing about..." Methos reached pressed a hand against Ban's stomach, sensitive fingertips prodding gently. "I would say you're only about three months along. For all we know, Immortal physiology could leave you pregnant for ten to twelve months instead of nine."
"Great, that's something to look forward to." Ban sighed heavily. "I thought you weren't supposed to upset the pregnant person?"
"Oh, that only counts in the ninth month. I can tease you right up until you're about to deliver."
Ban slapped him on the arm. "Meanie. I don't want to be all bloated. Why can't baby's just pop out fully born without the whole pregnancy thing?"
"Then baby's wouldn't be worth as much on the black market."
Ban slapped him again. "That's sick. If I hadn't known you for so long, I wouldn't talk to you ever again just for saying that. Bastard."
Methos leaned in and pressed a kiss next to Ban's ear. "I was just joking. You know I love you, right?"
Ban gave him a sideways glance and crossed his arms over his chest, pretending to be angry. Then he cracked and a little smile twitched his lips. "It's all right. I forgive you for being a complete and unmitigated ass. You just can't help yourself. I think it might be genetic."
"Oh no, that means the baby's going to be a smart ass too. What will we do?" Duncan said.
Ban looked at the man, giving him a sweet smile. "I guess we'll all just have to try and alleviate the overpowering stench of Methos' influence on the child, huh? We have to save the baby from himself."
"Or herself," Methos said. "I always wanted to have a daughter of my own to spoil. There's just something so appealing about the thought of being able to terrorize poor stupid boys that get too close to her."
"You're incredibly evil, you know that?" Ban said, giving him a sideways grin.
Methos nodded, and gently pushed Ban's arms aside so he could lay his hand against the still flat stomach. There was a listening look on his face, like he thought he could somehow feel the baby already. It was almost sweet that someone so old could still be so human.
"I really do love you," Ban said, his voice low. He could feel his eyes burning. "I am more glad than you could ever know that you are the father of this baby and not someone else."
The side of Methos' mouth quirked. "Me too."
* * *
It was hard to watch Methos being so close to someone else, but Duncan knew he had no right to feel jealous. He had had his chance with Methos, and thrown it away. It was time for him to step back and let the old man have his happiness. Even if it did feel like he was ripping a huge chunk out of himself.
Ban was a beautiful boy, though he had been awfully young when he had died his First Death, in his mid-to-late teens. His cheeks were smooth, free from even the slightest down. He was slender and almost delicately proportioned. It was hard to imagine how he had survived in the Game for as long as he had. He looked like he probably should have died in his first week. Yet from what Methos had said, Ban was at least a thousand years old, and the feel of him in Duncan's head... His Presence was awesome.
The way Ban looked was just so deceptive that Duncan might have doubted his senses, but he knew that Ban couldn't possibly be as sweet as he appeared. There was danger wrapped up in that image of a young boy, danger and beauty and lust.
Where did that last come from? Duncan wondered.
He couldn't help the way his eyes were drawn to Ban, drinking him in completely. There was just something so mesmerizing about him, something that made Duncan's libido stand up and bark.
Strange attractors were at work, and Duncan didn't quite know what it all meant. But Elaban Court certainly was beautiful.
* * *