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.

Pets

Xander had never planned to get a pet. With the life he'd led, when would he take care of it? Pets needed to be played with and cuddled and everything, and he was usually too busy to do that in between saving the world, hunting demons, working so he'd have money, and real life. And then he'd been flung into the past, and if he'd wanted a pet then what was he going to do? Adopt a velociraptor?

But if he remembered right, dinosaurs (which he'd had the joy of meeting) became extinct something like 65 million years before what he used to consider the present day, and humans were relatively new in the grand scheme of things, like having been around less than a million years new. He hadn't ever imagined he'd consider a million years old new, but living as long as he had had a way of putting things into perspective. And being alone for that long would make anyone feel lonely.

So when he saw an animal that looked something like a cat, in the way some of the animals now looked something like what their descendents would look like – he could see hints of them, but for the most part they just like completely different animals because it was so far in the past – he made overtures to it. Unless he had to deal with demons he was good enough that he always had enough food for himself and some left over to try to make friends by sharing it. And when the "cat" had kittens, he made overtures to them. And to their kittens as well.

It wasn't easy to make friends; these were no domesticated cats, or even feral cats; these were wild cats, and he had never expected to win them over in one generation. But if there was one thing he had, it was time, and with as much time as he had, he had learned to have patience. With every generation he was allowed a hair closer without being attacked. With each subsequent generation the cats were friendlier, even if they never acted like house cats.

And over the years he watched over his cats, keeping them safe from the demons which were a threat to every living being. He saw them change, so minutely with each generation that only by thinking back did he realize the changes that evolution had wrought. They interbred with a few of the more neutral demons, expanding their intelligence further than he'd thought possible and cementing their loyalty to him.

Xander no longer had pets, he had friends, even if they walked on four legs and couldn't speak any human language.

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.