Adaptation

Methos was having a bad day. It was one of those bad days where nothing major went wrong, but it seemed like everything minor had. The minor frustrations had piled up on each other until all he wanted to do was get a drink in peace and go home to sleep. Of course, in keeping with the rest of his day, Joe was out of all of the good beers, the band that was playing was sub-par, and MacLeod had decided to extol the dubious virtues of chivalry to Joe and the kid at Methos's table. It was the last straw.

"That's the kind of attitude that gets Immortals killed," he said scathingly. "Chivalry is dead; adapt or die. Just ask any Immortal who was around before the Bronze Age. Oh wait, you can't! They're all dead!"

"What does that have to do with it?" MacLeod demanded.

"Yeah, I thought they didn't even have chivalry back then," Richie chimed in.

"Look, before the Bronze Age, you had to be very determined to kill another Immortal. Before there were bronze weapons, nothing was sharp enough to decapitate easily. So for Immortals things were very peaceful. No Game, no threat of death except for freak accidents. Mortals tended to worship Immortals as gods rather than hunt them down as demons or witches or what have you. A couple of idiots picked up swords and started killing Immortals, and that all ended. You can't even imagine the fear- they all thought they were truly Immortal until then. Immortals who didn't adapt quickly enough, who didn't get a sword and learn how to use it, who stayed where everybody knew how to find them? They died quickly. They were as stuck in their pattern of thinking as a lot of Immortals are now, unable or unwilling to change with the times. Things change. Deal with it, or you'll die quickly. It's ridiculous to leave your mind in the past while you're living in the present."

Predictably, MacLeod looked like he was about to explode, Richie looked confused, and Joe was fascinated. "Even the earliest Chronicles don't have any record of this," he said.

"Yes, well, I wasn't exactly around before the Bronze Age, but while I was a student Immortals got more and more suspicious of other Immortals, even if most everybody knew each other back then," Methos said, mollified by Joe's interest, which was purely his own- no way to add this tidbit of history to the Chronicles. "Things were…unstable. Everybody was panicking. Eventually it settled down to this." His gesture encompassed their table and the world. "The death toll would have been high no matter what. But a lot of Immortals died because they expected everybody to follow the same traditions they did. Even when they heard the news, they denied that it could be Immortals doing it- because that wasn't the way things were done and it would be dishonorable. Just like it would be wrong to get a bronze sword and learn to use it."

He could see that MacLeod still disagreed with him- how could somebody so young stand to be so bound? At his age, Methos had still been a student, sampling the ways of the world. Joe was still burning up with questions, but at least he was kind enough to hold them back. Richie was still young enough to think he knew all the answers, but flexible enough to learn if you didn't force him to. Ideas could sit dormant in the mind until one was ready to accept them, and even if Richie wasn't his student he had to do something to counteract MacLeod.

He drained his beer and pushed back his chair. "Perhaps I should leave before this turns into an argument. I'm in a bad enough mood that it wouldn't be pretty." He didn't wait for an answer, just stood up and left. He'd lose these friends to death too soon; he'd rather not lose them to careless words sooner than that. Tomorrow he'd be in a better mood, good enough not to lose a friendship to what shouldn't be a serious fight. And if he wasn't, he could always take a short vacation- the Watchers wouldn't care if his plane tickets said Hawaii so long as he returned with results.

He was feeling better already.

To Uncover What Is Hidden

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5574114/1/To_Uncover_What_Is_Hidden

Awakening

Wake up, bleary-eyed, to the incessant beep of your alarm clock going off too early after the late-night stakeout you'd been on the night before. Groan and turn the noisy thing off, rolling out of bed and gaining momentum with the somewhat dubious ease of years of experience with too little sleep. Wish, for an instant, to return to the days before alarm clocks were popularized.

Abandon that foolish thought as you step into your nice refreshing shower. Once again thank God for the invention of indoor plumbing and the water heater.

Pull on your clothes with a smile at being allowed to wear pants- you'd learned how to fight in even the most cumbersome skirts out of necessity, but it's so much easier when you can wear pants.

Head outside to get the newspaper, your only source of news from yesterday since you'd been on the stakeout during the news last night. Pause to see the beauty of sunlight striking the dew on the grass; although you have seen tens of thousands of scenes like it, your teacher had managed to instill a sense of wonder at nature's beauty in you. Consider being a photographer in your next lifetime; this life might have just begun, but it's never too early to make plans- the unexpected has a tendency of happening, especially to your "family".

Shake the dew off of the plastic bag covering your newspaper as you take it inside. Peel the bag off and drop it in the trash can, dropping the paper on the table without a second glance on your way to getting out the Rice Krispies.

Prepare your cereal the way you like it: with more sugar than most people like and less than your teacher uses on it, and still more than a little crisp.

Unfold the newspaper and freeze, your cereal going soggy as you stare at the headline: "Immortals Among Us".

Wonder how long it will take before you're told to arrest yourself for existing.

The New Linguist

Jack grinned as he heard the sound of Daniel's voice. If he was back from recruiting that Pierson guy he could be a good distraction from Jack's mounds of paperwork since Carter had already kicked him out of her office. And if the Buzz was anything to judge on, Daniel had succeeded in his mission. Jack just hoped the new recruit wasn't a headhunter.

He rounded the corner, words of greeting on his lips, but they died when he saw who was with him. "What are you doing here?" he asked, rudely because he was so stunned.

"Jack!" Daniel snapped. "Sorry, Dr. Thomas, Jack's a little…"

"We know each other from a while back," 'Dr. Thomas' waved off the attempted apology, then answered Jack's question. "Dr. Jackson just hired me."

"Hired you?" Jack asked in confusion. "I thought the only position you had open was for a linguist, Daniel."

"It was," Daniel replied. "Dr. Thomas knows more languages than I do."

Jack turned to 'Dr. Thomas'. "I thought you said you'd never be a linguist."

"Yeah, because I'd have to take courses to teach me languages I already know," 'Dr. Thomas' said. "My doctorate's in women's studies. Dr. Jackson wouldn't even have glanced at me if Adam hadn't recommended me so I'd stop bumming his couch."

Jack could feel a headache coming on, which he hadn't even known was possible for Immortals. "Women's studies? Why?"

The other man shrugged. "Seemed like the thing to do. Is us working together going to be a problem?"

Jack shook his head. "Just bad memories." 'Dr. Thomas' nodded in understanding. "Hey, why don't you come over to my house for dinner? We can catch up with each other's lives."

"Sure," 'Dr. Thomas' said. "I gotta stop by my house and feed the cats first though."

"You still have those menaces?" Jack asked, a horrified expression on his face.

He rolled his eye. "Not the same ones. They don't live that long, you know."

"I don't care," Jack said emphatically. "Your tigers are not invited to dinner."

"Tigers?" Daniel asked, breaking into the conversation they'd started to think of as semi-private.

The Past

"Of course he's made mistakes," Xander passionately told Cassandra. "He's human in all but life span, just like the rest of us, and humans make mistakes."

"It wasn't a mistake," she spat. "They were the Four Horsemen, and he was the worst of them. He kept me captive after they slaughtered my village. That's not a mistake that can be laughed off like you're trying to do."

"And?" he asked. "We're none of us innocents, and especially not those of us who have lived longer than kids like MacLeod who haven't had their idealism destroyed yet. So he went a little insane for a while; so what? You live as long as we do, and it happens sooner or later. Human minds, and human coping methods, aren't designed for living for so long when those around you die. The only difference between his breakdown and mine, or yours, or anybody else's, is that he had the resources to lay waste to the world – and people who wanted to do the same thing at his side."

"And that excuses it?" she asked incredulously. "You weren't there! You didn't see how bad it was, or how long it lasted."

"No, I wasn't there!" he roared back. "I was following behind, doing what I could for the survivors and burying the bodies! You think I don't know what it was like? There have been far worse things than the Four Horsemen on Earth, and I've lived through a lot of them. So don't you tell me that I don't know what it was like, because I know! And if you can't see that Methos isn't that person now then you're the blindest person I know."

Houseguests

"I don't get it," Duncan said, watching Alex's antics. "Why is he so…" he trailed off, unable to think of a word.

"Most Immortals have at least one period of strangeness – maybe even insanity – if they live long enough," Joe said.

Methos snorted. "Alex hit that period before I met him, and he hasn't returned to sanity yet."

"When did you two meet?" Joe asked, including Alex as he walked over to them. He was excited to be learning new information about the usually taciturn Methos's life, even if the Immortal would probably kill him if he included it in his report to the Watchers.

"Bronze age," Alex said, as if he hadn't just told them that he was one of the oldest living immortals. "At least, I assume it was the bronze age, what with all the bronze weapons." Methos nodded in agreement, taking a swig of his beer.

"Bronze age?" Duncan asked. "Isn't that when…" He trailed off, unsure of whether Alex knew about the Four Horsemen.

Methos got a horrified expression on his face and started drinking faster, which Duncan assumed was either because of the memories or because he'd almost let the secret slip, until Alex spoke. "Technically speaking, but we met before he had his little teenage rebellion." Duncan and Joe both choked and had reason to be glad they hadn't been drinking at that moment so nothing came out of their noses. Apparently bored with the subject, Alex changed the subject. "So, you've got a spare room or a couch or something, right?"

"Yes," Methos said resignedly. "I suppose you want my spare room?"

"It's not like I can find anywhere else with a yard on such short notice," Alex told him.

"A yard? Why would you want a…" Horrified realization dawned on Methos's face. "No! I am not going to have your…Hell-cats in my house! I had enough of them the last time I saw you."

"Hey! What did I tell you about calling them Hell-cats?" Alex snarled, slamming a previously-unnoticed knife point-first into the table in front of Methos.

"Fine, I won't call them…" He didn't finish the sentence when he saw Xander's eye narrow. "But they can't come in the house, and that's final."

"Okay," Alex said, suddenly cheerful again. "I planned for them to stay in the yard anyway." He walked off whistling, vanishing the knife through some sleight of hand. When the door closed behind him, the only sign that he had ever been there were a deep gouge in the table and Methos, still groaning over having fallen for that.

Phone Home

Xander sighed unhappily as he hung up the satellite phone. Willow and Buffy were obviously starting off on one of their 'special girl' kicks again, where they tried to make him quit because they thought he was too normal to be risking his life.

So he'd gotten into a few scrapes in Africa; so what? They'd all gotten into more, and worse, in Sunnydale without even trying, and Africa was a dangerous country in parts. Parts he had to go to because the Slayers he had to find were in war zones. And it wasn't like they even believed him when he told them about the tigers which sometimes followed him; it had been all "Tigers don't live in Africa" and "are you sure you don't mean lions?"

Sometimes he wondered if they'd stop trying to make him quit if he told them his secret, but most of the time he thought that they wouldn't, although they might think he was a demon.

Linguistics?

"I'm back!" Methos called.

"Really?" Xander asked. "That was fast. I thought you'd take the opportunity to run away. Who's your friend?"

"Daniel Jackson," Methos said, and waited to see if Xander recognized the name. He'd always had the strangest ability to at least know of the widest variety of people Methos could imagine.

"The Egyptologist and linguist, or a different one?" Xander asked, right on schedule.

"That's me," Daniel said. "Can I ask, how do you know the name?"

Xander shrugged. "I visited Chicago a few years back and got in a bar brawl with Steven Raynor, who has a huge grudge at you by the way. Your landing pads theory sounds like fun, and don't worry, I took everything he said with a grain of salt."

"That's good…" Daniel said, obviously trying to put Xander into a category in his mind. It was impossible, though; Methos, who had been around long enough that he could easily categorize every person he met in his mental system, still hadn't been able to put Xander in a category with anybody else. "And you're Alex Thomas, right? Linguist?"

Xander burst out laughing. "Adam told you that?" he asked between peals of laughter.

"Not in so many words," Daniel said, looking back and forth between the two in confusion. "I told him I was recruiting for our language department, and he recommended you instead."

"Well, yeah," Xander said. "But because I can do the work, not because of what my degree's in. I'm a doctor of women's studies, not linguistics."

When Daniel stared at Methos like he was crazy, he responded defensively. "What? It's not like I was in contact with him while he was getting his degree. And he knows more languages than both of us combined, and counting the overlapping languages twice."

Xander snorted. "Like that's hard."

"I speak twenty-seven languages," Daniel protested.

Xander shrugged. "I speak more."

Recruitment

Daniel knocked on the door and was surprised when it was yanked open almost immediately. He opened his mouth to say something, but Adam was faster than he was.

"Daniel!" the man exclaimed too loudly. "I forgot you asked if I wanted to go to lunch. I'll just grab my coat."

"Actually, I-" Daniel started, but Adam clamped a hand over his mouth and motioned for Daniel to be silent.

"I'll see you later, Alex!" Adam called back through the door moments before he slammed it behind him and dragged Daniel back to his car. His voice slightly hushed, he spoke to Daniel again. "I don't care why you're here, but thank you so much for saving me."

"Saving you?" Daniel asked in confusion, his vivid imagination enhanced by his time at the SGC conjuring scenarios Adam might have needed to be saved from.

"Nothing too major," Adam reassured him, "just the houseguest from Hell."

"Relative?" Daniel asked, unable to imagine another reason he'd let somebody stay when he didn't like them.

"No," Adam said, "but he's the closest thing I have to one. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to him – I don't think I would have lived this long without him – but the man is completely insane."

"Oh?" Daniel asked. "Oh, any preference for food, since I'm apparently taking you out?" he asked as an aside.

"There, actually," Adam said, pointing. "Parking's up ahead, though."

He pointed out where the parking was, and as they were walking to the restaurant Daniel asked, "So, how is your – friend? You never said a name – how is he insane? Literally, or figuratively?"

"Alex Thomas," Adam told him. "And hell if I know. He's functional, even if I get the urge to kill him, so it doesn't really matter which. I doubt even a psychiatrist could tell even if he didn't snow them."

They paused to get their names on the list and a beeper to call them, and then Daniel launched into another question. "So if you call him insane and he hasn't been diagnosed you've got to have a reason, right?"

Adam smirked at him. "Oh, the stories I could tell you about Alex. You wouldn't even believe what he gets into."

"Oh? Like what?" Daniel asked, all innocent curiosity.

"Hmmm," Adam said, selecting a story to tell. "I guess the most relevant is the one that made me start avoiding him."

"You avoid him but you let him stay in your house?" Daniel asked.

"Oh, Alex is like a hurricane. You can't stop him when he wants to do something, the only thing you can do is minimize damage." Their beeper went off and they were led to their table, and Adam took up the story where he had left off. "One time, Alex decided that it would be a good idea to circumnavigate the world."

"I assume you don't mean in a plane or anything," Daniel said.

Adam snorted. "I wish. No, we were in an accurate recreation of a ship from sometime before Christ."

Daniel pushed up his glasses and stared at Adam. "You what?"

Adam nodded. "If you ever get the urge, don't. Although that actually wasn't the experience that made me hate boats. But we were doing the whole thing very authentically, so when we landed in South America we stocked up on chocolate as well as everything else, and until it ran out I was stuck on a boat which was nowhere near large enough. Alex on chocolate is a scary thing to behold."

Daniel laughed. "I'll bet," he said. "So, did you make it? Where did you start from?"

"We started from Northern Africa – I don't remember the country, but somewhere in there. And we did make it, although the boat only made it to India before we had to make our way back by land, so I'm not sure if you'd count that as making it."

"Wow," Daniel said. "That far in a ship that wasn't even made for it? I'm amazed. How much of a crew did you have?"

"Just me and him," Adam said, "which only made it worse."

Daniel chuckled. "I can imagine. I can see why you're so exasperated with him."

"And you don't know the half of it," Adam told him. Just then, their food arrived. "Fast service today." He waited for the waiters to clear away, and then asked, "so, what brings you here, since I assume it wasn't Alex stories?"

"A job offer, actually," Daniel told him.

"You got a job offer?" Adam asked him. "After your talk I wasn't sure you'd be able to."

"Well, yes," Daniel said. "Actually, I got one right after I gave the talk. Literally, I was walking out after the talk and got it."

"Really?" Adam asked. "You never told me."

"I guess we haven't really been keeping in contact," Daniel said. "My job's been keeping me busy. But that wasn't what I meant, actually. I have a job offer for you."

"You're hiring?" Adam asked.

"Well, not me personally," Daniel said. "I'm head of the language department, but the whole thing is under the Air Force."

"I don't deal with the military," Adam said with finality. "And in case you hadn't noticed, I'm not precisely an American citizen."

"Hey, it's not entirely American anymore," Daniel defended. "And it's not like you'd have to go on missions. You haven't even listened to my pitch!"

"What's there to listen to?" Adam asked. "My specialty's dead languages. I don't know modern languages like you do, and I like working with dead languages."

"It is dead languages, dialects of them I'd never seen before, and it's nothing like anything else you'll ever do," Daniel said.

"I still don't work with the military," Adam said. "If you want somebody, take Alex. Get him out of my hair for a few years."

"Can he do the work?" Daniel asked. "Can he pass a background check for Top Secret clearance?"

"He's fluent in more languages than I've even heard of, much less speak," Adam told him. "As for security clearance, no clue. Like I said, I've been avoiding him. For all I know he might already have one." He let Daniel get the check and call one of the people from his job on his cell phone on their way back to the car. Daniel wasn't off the phone by the time they got to the car, so Adam took the keys and drove them back.

"They'll call me back with a preliminary yes or no in a few minutes," Daniel said. "Where are we going?"

"My place," Adam said. "If you're going to have to work with him, you might as well find out if you can stand him before you hire him."

Obstacles

"Dr. Thomas," General Landry said. "Would you like to go to Atlantis?"

"Of course," Xander said. "It's the city of the Ancients, why wouldn't I want to go?"

"Good!" the general said. "The Daedalus is leaving in three weeks. Can you be ready by then?"

"No, I can't leave," Xander protested. "I have to take care of my cats."

"Can't you ask a friend to take care of them?"

"Ah, no, because that would be illegal. When I say cats I'm not talking Felis catus, I'm talking a subspecies of Panthera tigris." General Landry stared blankly at him. "Panthera tigris, you know, tigers?"

"Why do you own tigers?" he asked slowly.

"Because I do," Xander said without any further explanation. "It's legal for me to own them and take them with me wherever I go as long as I'm not violating the health code or mistreating them, but the rule against pets going to Atlantis has nothing to do with their species, so I can't go."

"Shouldn't they be in a zoo? Or the wild?"

Xander's voice was flat. "I'm not putting my babies in animal prison. And I had some poaching problems on my land, which is why they're in America."

General Landry sighed. "I suppose I can your point of view, but Atlantis really needs someone who can read Ancient as fluently as you can. Are you sure you won't reconsider?"

39 days later, in addition to the usual scientists and soldiers, the Daedalus also beamed down five tigers: two adults and three cubs.

Spurious Wishing

Buffy hung up the phone after the latest call from Xander and sighed. "He said he fought some of those demons with the blue fur and claws and the slime that gets everywhere, you know what I'm talking about?"

"The ones that killed Anna?" Willow asked.

She nodded. "He got wounded, but he won't go to a hospital."

"He's going to get himself killed. He's just a normal guy and he doesn't have any backup until he finds a Slayer."

"Yeah," Buffy said. "But this is what he wants to do, and it's not like we can stop him. You know how Xander is."

Willow sighed. "I just wish he'd go somewhere without demons and we wouldn't have to worry about him dying anymore."

"Granted," a voice came from behind him. "Technically it was two wishes but D'Hoffryn will give me some latitude since I finally took revenge on Anyanka's corrupter." Buffy and Willow turned around and saw the vengeance demon with a gleeful look on her face. They were about to attack when the door opened.

"Xander!" Willow cried, shocked. "I thought you were in Africa and then the demon-"

Xander raised a hand to cut her off. "Hold on," he said, and then turned to the demon and said something in a language that made him sound like he was gargling razor blades. It had obviously been designed for throats which weren't human. A glow briefly enveloped him and the demon, and the demon whimpered and disappeared.

"What did you just do to that demon?" Buffy asked.

"Nothing that vengeance demons haven't deserved for a long time," Xander said coldly. "Next time, don't make a wish. The only time Earth didn't have demons was before the dinosaurs became extinct."

Willow and Buffy gasped. "Then how did you get back?" Willow asked. "How did you know about the wish? I thought the wishees didn't learn about the wishes."

"I asked," Xander said, baring his teeth. "I can be very persuasive." His predatory look sent chills of fear down their spines. "As for how I got back, let's just say that's where the second part of your wish came in." And with that, he turned and walked back out the door.

"Why's Xander acting like that?" Buffy asked in confusion. "Is he possessed again?"

"Buffy, dinosaurs have been extinct for 65 million years," Willow reminded her, a broken look on her face. "He might not even remember us anymore, and would you be happy with someone who made a wish that made that happen to your life?"