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'Til Death us do part	By : ClareSelley Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Crossovers Views: 896 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or Highlander, and I make no money off this.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
A few days later found Duo pulling on his uniform again, his arms still aching from where carrying boxes had stretched his scars, and he thanked whatever deity was listening that he was a fast healer. The wounds were now just livid scars that itched like hell and he had the sneaking suspicion that moving house didn't come under the umbrella of light exercise that Syxe had prescribed.

The hotel staff had been very polite to him, but he had noticed the relief in their eyes as he wheeled the final box out of the door towards the hired van. It had taken most of a day, but he'd whittled the crap in the eight boxes down to five before putting up with the strange looks as he'd lugged the rubbish bags down to the bins.

He'd not even started unpacking properly yet, except for his small suitcase of clothes, and he'd managed to find a supermarket nearby that provided all the essentials he needed, including a supply of his favourite shampoo and conditioner.

Pausing at the pile of stuff in the lounge area he glanced at the re-wrapped sword resting against one of the boxes. I wonder if Mac would know anything 'bout that thing? The guy seemed to know about old objects and also was good with a sword, at least he could probably give him a lead on where start researching the weapon.

Grabbing it, he made his way down the stairs, setting the security on his way out and making a mental note to upgrade it as soon as possible. He'd checked it out the night before and it hardly was worth setting in his opinion, the coding was so sloppy that any half trained idiot could get in. He supposed his version of half trained idiot was probably the average expert, but that didn't mean he wanted to take the risk. Hopefully the high-spec computer he'd ordered would arrive soon, he was looking forward to not having to use the laptop to connect to the 'net, and there was no way he was gonna risk that getting stolen. He sighed as he made his way along the street, he'd need to sort out the utilities too - great, yet another thing to add to the ever expanding list.

"So, what is it?" Duo asked, sitting on the edge of Duncan's desk where the sword lay unwrapped once again, the blade gleaming in the overhead light. "I mean, I know it's a sword and all that, but I thought you'd be able to at least tell me a little more about it. You knowing about old stuff and all."

Looking up at the Scot he frowned, the man's eyes were distant as he raked his eyes over the object, strong tanned hands lightly touching it. "It's an old longsword, the hilt is bronze with heraldic..." his voice trailed off as he studied the sword more closely.

And then the memories hit again. Quickly he flipped the blade over, searching with an almost frantic desperation. It couldn't be. It just couldn't. He'd never let anyone take the sword he was using. Not unless...

"Duncan? Mac? Pal?" Duo's worried voice seemed distant, pulling him back into the present even as his questing fingers found the minute stylised owl lightly etched into the shining blade.

Controlling himself he turned to his partner, unable to keep his emotions from skittering across his face. "Where did you get this, Duo?" He knew his voice was cold, but couldn't help it, feeling his eyes flaring passionately was bad enough.

"It was a mission to shut down an OZ base," Duo shrugged, "Strange one though, the researcher had this sword and seemed how to use it."

"Want to talk about it?" He knew he was trying to stay calm, but he could see the flash in the violet eyes. He just had to get a partner with the intelligence and curiosity of a cat.

"Not really, was in the war and that's all over now, right?" the braided Preventer looked up at the ceiling. "There was something odd about it all though, Odd about the guy I killed and took the sword from I mean. It was the second time I'd assassinated him, Even sliced his neck open the second time just to make sure he was dead then blew the base sky high with 'Scythe - there was nothing left once I'd gotten through with it." He grinned, obviously pleased with himself, "But, I know it sounds weird, but I'd have sworn that Dr. Alax Adams and Adam Pierson were the... Hey, you OK Mac?"

Duncan felt the blood draining from his face. "No..." the sound was almost a breath that Duo had to strain to catch.

"Look, you want me to go get you a coffee? Perk you up a bit? Or do you want me to call the med team? Something's wrong and I wanna know what's going on."

"A coffee could be good," he said, anything to get the boy out of the office. Running his hand lightly over the blade he found himself clenching the metal, feeling the edges cut into his skin.

"I'll be back shortly, OK?"

There was concern in Duo's face as he left the room and Duncan reined himself in until he knew the braided pilot had moved out of hearing range. And then he let the anger flow.

"Damn it, Methos," he hissed, ignoring his blood starting to pool around the sword, "You never rang, you never wrote, the last time I heard from you, you were in bloody Asia on a so-called spiritual retreat before they changed the stupid calendar over." He threw the words at the weapon, hurling them with unrestrained venom at the blade. "And now I find you're dead, permanently, irrevocably dead? And not even to another Immortal? To a bloody fifteen year old boy with an overgrown robot? I always thought I'd know if you were dead, somehow, that I'd feel your Quickening leave you, and just know that you'd... gone."

The rage subsided then, and he felt tears welling up in his eyes. "Damn it all, Methos, you weren't meant to die! You should have lived forever!" The last was almost yelled, finally feeling the blade cutting into his palm as his other hand punched into the metal desk, bruising his knuckles.

Lifting his hand, he watched his blood drip onto the blade, ironically noting that it was probably the first time so much of his blood had touched the longsword. He allowed the memories to surface then. Their final meeting, 2134 in London, over 700 years ago.

Methos, standing there, his sword, the sword in front of him, raised up in anger as the familiar lip curled upwards in a sneer. "Well, MacLeod, are you going to finally take my head? Or are you still too noble to do it?"

"I have no reason to fight you, Methos," his voice had been calm, his katana raised, but only in a defensive guard. "All I said was that I'm not interested in you in that way."

"Not interested." The old man had advanced, almost stalking him, "Fine. I can accept that. But you didn't have to insinuate that there was something wrong, something dirty with the idea. You just managed to insult the entirety of ancient Greek society"

He'd felt confusion spread across his face then. "I just said that I wasn't interested in you in that way. I thought you knew that."

He'd watched as the thin figure had bowed his head in unfamiliar defeat, turning away sharply as he tucked the sword back in his coat. "Fine. If that's all you have to say to me. Good bye, Duncan. I..." And then he'd been gone.

He hadn't known, then, how to respond to Methos's declaration of interest. He couldn't even remember the exact words he'd used to insult the man. It had taken at least a hundred years more until he'd caught up with the new social conventions - that same-sex relationships were allowed, let alone felt comfortable with the idea. Now, bedfellows he could understand, keeping each other warm in the cold nights of winter on an icy battlefield, or a passing fumble, but nothing serious, nothing more than a single night, then gone, never a relationship by any stretch of the imagination..

To be honest, he still didn't feel entirely comfortable with the idea - how could you get a heir with two men or two women? Well, with two women you could use a surrogate he supposed, and there was always test tube genetic manipulation in this era, but, even so. And it wasn't as if Immortals could have children, but the old habits and ancient morals had taken centuries to wear down to where he could feel comfortable with the idea of a long term love match, even marriage between a same sex pair.

But, dead. He couldn't wrap his head around the ancient Immortal being dead. He'd survived so long and that a young sixteen year old boy, albeit a Gundam pilot, could take him from the world was just an impossible thought. Methos, who had walked with the ancients, who had been a Pharaoh, who had been Death for God's sake, was gone.

"And I never even got to say that I was sorry," he murmured, burying his grief, at least for now. He couldn't lose it any more than he already had - it was bad enough he'd need to email Ice get the security video accidentally lost. Not that Yuy knew anything about Immortals, and his actions would raise the Japanese youth's own curiosity, but he doubted that his request would be refused. He was just relieved that he'd not had his head raised while he spoke - he was pretty certain Yuy knew how to read lips.

Lifting his hand, carefully keeping it out of sight of the camera, he watched as the cuts knit together, leaving only the blood on the blade. He felt numb. Digging an old blood stained cloth from his coat pocket, he wiped the sword clean almost reverently. He supposed that the sword belonged to his partner now and old instincts held that you never left a sword uncleaned.

Duo. He paused, the anger and sadness flaring up inside him again even as he collapsed in his chair. His new partner had killed his friend, one of his best friends, and he was meant to work with him! How had he ended up in this situation anyway? God, he really needed that coffee now.

He sat lost in his thoughts for a few more moments, staring at the sword.

"Hey, Mac?" The violet eyes peered round the door, a couple of cups of coffee balanced on top of each other. "You OK now?"

Duo's eyes swept over the mess on the table, noting the pool of blood on the cloth surrounding the sword. Duncan looked almost lost, sitting there staring at the weapon. Well, he had no idea why the guy had reacted so badly to his words, but something had gone on that he didn't understand. And if there was one thing Duo Maxwell hated, it was not understanding.

Dumping the coffee on the table, he grabbed the first aid kit he'd picked up from medical, waving off their worries with a grin, and reached for the Scot's hand. "Let me see, buddy."

"I'm fine, Duo." the soft accent was quiet but calm, and the brown skin on the upraised palms was unblemished.

"Then where did you cut yourself? You might've wiped the blade, but there's blood all over the wrapping. And a dent in the table. Impressive strength you have. What on Earth caused you to do that to the poor table?"

A flash in the brown eyes told him that Duncan had been distracted enough to forget the red liquid seeping into the cloth. Sighing, he took a seat on the desk, maybe if he opened up a bit, the other guy would too? "I'm not meant to talk about the mission, but, hey, look, Pierson was a researcher in OZ, the North Springs base in Africa. He was a tactician who needed to be eliminated because, well, couldn't have OZ being able to actually plan anything, right? Thing was, when I saw the photo, he was identical to another guy I'd taken out with a heart shot months before, by the name of Alax Adams.

"So, made my way into the base easily enough and found his office. Didn't want to use the gun again, cause it apparently hadn't worked last time. Same office - books and scrolls spread around everywhere, took one of the ones from Alax's office for Heero, never managed to give it him though, and when he turned, it was the same man.

"Wasn't expecting him to pull that sword on me though, all I could do to hold him off with my daggers. I'm trained in them if you ever want to spar by the way, but when he caught the end of my hair with the blade, I kind of flipped." He shrugged again - Mac had already seen his reaction to his hair being touched. "So I threw a knife in his heart and then cut his throat. He seemed to have an obsession with me 'taking his head' so I thought I'd do him the favour. Was defiantly dead, checked him three times, and then blew the base up with 'Sycthe."

He paused, glancing over at the older guy. "That's the whole story. Simple as that."

The Scot didn't seem to be able to pull his eyes away from the weapon and Duo crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "You're acting strangely pal. I'll find out eventually, you know. Master of infiltration and all that." Duo stirred his own coffee thoughtfully, "You going to tell me what the blood's all about?"

Ignoring the question, Duncan pulled the wrapping from under the sword, bundling it up and tossing it in the bin. He reached for his own coffee, inhaling the aroma gratefully, guessing Duo had used his own blend rather than the office supply, and attempted to change the subject. "You know, traditionally if you kill someone in a duel, their sword belongs to you." As long as you were talking Immortal traditions anyway, he added silently to himself. "If you want, I can teach you some basic techniques? If you're trained with daggers and that scythe I recall you using in the war, you should be able to pick it up quickly."

"You're being evasive." Duo accused, glancing at the bin thoughtfully. he'd have to get that out later and try and do some analysis. There was something odd going on and there was no way that he wasn't going to get to the bottom of it. For now, however, he'd drop it. No reason to make Mac clam up even further. "And I don't have a wooden stick to wave around - I'm assuming you don't generally learn with live weapons?"

"You won't need a bokken straight away," the Scot answered sounding faintly amused, although sadness still echoed in the deep accent and the deep brown eyes that he raised towards the pilot were haunted, "first we'll work on your balance and movement. And that's after you've fully recovered."

Duo almost pouted, "But I'm already trained in daggers! What do I need to do stance work for? OK, so I've only done a session or so every week while I was working on L2 to keep my skills sharp, but it can't be that different, right?"

"I prefer to start from the basics. It eliminates any bad habits."

"Since when did a business graduate start teaching sword skills anyway? I mean I know you're good at fighting with 'em, I saw you with 'Fei, but teaching is something different. Hell, I can't teach daggers and I've used them since I was a kid. You're definitely hiding something." the pilot finished off with a mutter, glancing curiously at the sword. And I'm going to find out what, he promised himself silently.

"I know enough from my own teacher to train you, although your sword," the Scot winced inwardly at the reminder that his partner had won the blade, "is a longsword and not suited for my style. I know enough to teach you some basics is longsword fighting however."

"And I'm meant to not ask how you know longsword skills too?"

"They're pretty standard moves you can do with a katana one hand." Duncan replied as he carefully lifted the sword, passing it hilt first to the pilot almost reverently. "You have the speed and balance already if you're capable of holding off someone trained with a sword using daggers alone," Methos... "but the movements are very different. I'll bring in a bag so you can carry that sword home - it's an antique in itself so at least try and be careful with it."

"Yeah, you recovered enough from you little episode to tell me more about it, yet?"

The Scot shook his head, ignoring the sarcasm, "Apart from being able to tell you that it's a long sword with a bronze hilt, probably from the 12th century AD - that's about 1,700 years old - I'm not familiar with the history of this particular style of sword." Without going into Methos' history at least.

Duo blinked, placing the sword carefully on an empty bookshelf behind him. And he'd had it wrapped in a bloody bedsheet. It was probably worth more than a year's salary for goodness sake.

Duncan's voice behind him seemed amused. "It's not going to break, Duo. It's survived that long, a small bump isn't going to damage it." Methos hadn't fought often, preferring to run and survive rather than face challenges, but he was well are that the blade had taken a more than a few heads when required.

The guy wore his heart on his sleeve, Duo decided, turning to watch as the other man turned to his computer, obviously wanting to end the conversation. He just wanted to give the tall Scot a hug and stroke way the tension that wrapped around him like a straitjacket, and ease the troubled and passionate storm in the chocolate eyes.

But, hell, he didn't even know if the man would be interested in even a one night stand with him, ad it'd probably not be a great idea to get involved in his partner in that way - inter-office tensions sucked at the best of times. There'd been a pair on the junk yard that had caused ructions when they'd split up, ending in several friendships being torn apart violently and a couple of firings before the whole situation had blown over. He didn't wanna give Une any reason to fire him, especially before he'd found out what on earth Duncan MacLeod was hiding and what the fuck the reaction to the sword meant.

Anyway, he had other things to think about, like whether he could get his colleague to the house warming party - there was no way he was going to pass up the opportunity for a party. "Hey, Mac, don't know if you got to see the paperwork, but I've managed to get a house, well, flat sorted. Was thinking 'bout having a bit of a party to celebrate - would you be interested in coming?" He smirked inwardly at the double entendre, "I'm inviting a few friends - there's not enough room to have a proper blowout, but I'd like it if you could make it. Just have a few drinks, make the place a little less empty?"

He could just see the surprise in Duncan's eyes, and wondered what the Scot's social life was like if a simple party invitation was a surprise. Must be bloody boring. "It's tomorrow night, above De Smet's on Barthemylan - you know it?"

"Um, yeah," Duncan nodded, looking confused and wary, conflicting emotions darting across his eyes that the pilot couldn't even begin to catalogue. "I've eaten at De Smet's once or twice."

"Then you'll come?"

"I'm a bit busy, Duo. Sorry."

"Yeah, yeah. You sent your report in days ago, Mac. We've not had our next mission through yet, they're waiting on me to get the scar removal treatment on Wednesday. And I know you're involved in some other research stuff for Une, but you can't even take a night off?"

Duncan didn't even bother asking how the braided man knew about the extra work - the younger man was far too good at hacking to hide much from. Which, reminded him, he'd better check his records for consistency again - technology had made keeping identities secret so much more difficult in this era and he really did not want to risk his curious partner finding anything suspicious in his history, this was one of those times he regretted keeping the same name throughout history. He'd had to take himself away from society for a century after CCTV came into common usage, and then another one after an incident with taking a head and getting arrested. He'd escaped, but with his records all over the country, he'd had a nightmare escaping to a Buddhist retreat until he'd legitimately be dead if he was mortal.

He realised that the violet eyes were still staring at him, waiting for a response and he sighed, "Fine, I'll come round for a bit. Just for a little bit, mind."

"Thanks, Mac. It'll only be a few of us, as I said, the flat's tiny. Bring a bottle or something - I'm going to be ordering food in, I can't boil water, how are you with pizza?"

"Pizza's fine, what time will you be expecting me?"

Duo shrugged, "Well, assuming Une approves my holiday request for tomorrow afternoon, I was gonna start 'bout 8pm? Q's shuttle gets in at five and I'm going to meet him at the shuttle port." He grinned at his partner's expression, "Hey, I couldn't exactly leave him out of a party, I've not seen him for months. Anyway, he's in charge of the company, if he can't give himself an afternoon off, he's doing something wrong."

"Any other celebrities you're inviting?"

And finally, finally Duncan's eyes matched the smile that touched his lips. "Nah, if you want the whole guest list, it's you, Heero, Tro, Q, 'Fei. I invited Hilde - my best friend -, but she can't get the time off work in the scrap yard."

"That's a rather exclusive list, why add me in? You've only known me a few days."

'Cause I want to know more about you, Duo thought, 'Cause I want to find out what you're hiding, and if you'd be interested... "'Cause you're my partner now, and I'd like us to be friends as well," he answered with a shrug, smiling back, "Any problem with that?"

Duncan closed his eyes for a long moment. The boy had no idea what he was asking. He'd killed one of his best friends and yes, it had been war, yes, it had been Methos's own damn fault for being on the other side and yes, they'd both known the other could lose their head at any time, but, dammit, he couldn't even challenge the mortal for his old friend's Quickening. It just didn't work like that. And he liked the child, the man, regardless of his actions, which, he reminded himself, had helped bring around peace in the entire Earth Sphere. He'd found himself enjoying the few sessions in the gym they'd had so far, looking forward to teaching him some martial arts, having a one-on-one student again rather than the classes he occasionally took for the Preventers.

He'd not really had a student since Richie. Not since that night. He shoved that thought away violently, this was not the time to brood over losses centuries gone. Oh, he'd come across a few pre-Immortals over the years since, and several new Immortals who didn't know what they were, the rules of the Game, or how to fight, and taught them just enough to keep their head, but they'd not been students. Not in the same way Richie had been to him, not family, not Clan. And now Duo so easily could fill that role, of a friend, of a student. There was just something about the fun-loving mortal pilot who had seen death and fought back which made him want to be his friend, at least until he had to move on again. Even if he had killed Methos. Damn it.

It wasn't as if he could explain the situation either, they'd been getting on fine before Duo had unwrapped the sword and shattered part of his, well, heart. He'd loved the old man, even if it wasn't in the way the older guy wanted. What could he say? Sorry, I can't be your friend because you killed one of my best friends who I hadn't seen for 300 years?

He sighed. "No, no problem."

"Great, I'll see you at 8 tomorrow." With a bright grin, Duo turned back to his computer and the latest intelligence reports he'd been sent to study.
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'Til Death us do part