Holiday Ficlet #8: "Heaven and Earth, Horatio" [BSG/Highlander]
Title: Heaven and Earth, Horatio
Fandoms: Highlander the Series / Battlestar Galactica 2003
Characters: Methos, Duncan, Felix Gaeta
Wordcount: ~ 1000 words
Summary: "Ancient immortal floating in space." Duncan chuckled. "Your stories never fail to entertain."
AN: For rap541 and for the prompt Methos & Gaeta, "I know we're both immortal but you know I'm a lot older, right?" Let me tell you that crossover prompts are hard if you've got 31 ficlets to write. But I brought it onto myself, huh?
Heaven And Earth, Horatio
"I keep telling you, Highlander," Methos said patiently. "That there are more things in heaven and earth that you could possibly dream up."
Duncan smirked, leaning forward with sparkling eyes. Smoke was hanging high under the ceiling of the pub, purple liquid swirling in his glass. "While I'm shocked that you can't properly recall that quote anymore," he said. "I'm in. Name one."
"Nobody remembers Shakespeare. Why should I? But, very well." Methos leaned back into his chair and took a thoughtful sip of his own drink. They didn't call it brandy anymore, seeing as natural colors weren't good enough for liquor in this age, but it was still an excellent blend. "Take the first time I came to this colony, a journey which you know I made alone in an old battered coffin of a ship."
"I thought you made it in a boat with five monks." There was a laugh in the Highlander's voice. He rarely believed any of the old man's stories anymore, Methos knew.
"Six monks and that was in the 7th century," Methos huffed. "Don't you ever listen when your elders tell you stories? Now," he continued. "I'd just made it past the solar system when something hit my hull. I couldn't make head or tails of the read-outs so I ran sensor scans and it turned out, it was a human dead body, conserved in perfect shape by all those years in space. And..." He paused dramatically. "I felt a buzz."
Duncan raised an interested eyebrow. "A victim of the War? A lot of pilots died out there. Most of them died when their shuttles took hits, but I suppose an Immortal might have seen merrit in using the ejector seat." They lived in a time where only one war mattered, and all the others paled even to those who had lived them. Methos supposed that even Culloden paled in comparison to a war that had chased them off Earth.
"So I thought," Methos allowed. "I hauled him in, of course. Young bloke, both in looks and age. Had barely made forty when he was first trapped out there in space - air-locked, I don't remember the whole story. At the time, he had apparently been missing a leg and he was rather surprised to find it had regrown during all the years he'd been dead. But..." He raised a finger of the hand holding his glass when Duncan opened his mouth to comment. "...here is the interesting part. He claimed he was not from Earth at all but from a fleet of ships that had been looking for Earth. Insisted on it rather firmly - in a rather peculiar dialect of ancient Mykonos, I might add. It was clear that he knew his way around space travel, and he kept talking about star formations and portents. He drew me a rather uncanny picture of the zodiac signs."
"So he must have been insane," Duncan said reasonably, apparently fiercely determined to not let the old man pull his leg. "If he was from outer space like he claimed - not that it's possible, especially if he spoke Greek - he wouldn't have referenced Earth lore."
Methos shrugged. "Makes you wonder though, doesn't it?" he said. "They are just star formations, that have been around for thousands of years. Maybe he was from a fleet that had been looking for us but never made it. Maybe there used to be human colonies out there, but we forgot. Who knows?"
"But that would mean they must have been founded thousands of years ago!" Duncan exclaimed. "Long enough for nobody to recall. Not even you."
"And Gaeta - as he called himself - might have drifted out there thousands of years himself," Methos agreed. "He might have been older than any of us." He smirked and took another sip. "Even me."
Laughter was dancing in Duncan's eyes. Rather obviously, he had decided to enjoy the story for what it was. They had known each other for almost five hundred years. He had learned to take Methos' relationship with truth for what it was - good entertainment for an evening out in a pub, something to go well with a glass of Ambrosia or two.
"What happened to Gaeta?" he asked and mockingly narrowed his eyes. "You didn't take his head to get his ancient Quickening, did you?"
"Who are you taking me for," Methos answered smoothly. "We spent an entertaining travel together. I taught him the language of the time, and he became quite the conversationalist after a while, although the maintenance robots continued to scare the life out of him up to the end. Once we arrived here, he thanked me for the ride and went off to acquire a new sword. I never saw him again. Soft and gentle as he was, I don't know that he would have grown old."
"Ancient immortal floating in space." Duncan chuckled. "Your stories never fail to entertain."
The older Immortal bowed his head graciously and went back to sipping at his drink.
The pub was getting emptier now. The bartender would soon want them to leave. People in this time and day - strange enough - had rediscovered the old gods, and people would make a stop at a temple of Athena or Artemis on their way home to pray for better crops and lasting peace.
Everybody still feared that the Cylons would find them.
Everything has happened before, Methos mused. And it will all happen again.
The words were written on the top of the scrolls nowadays. He believed they were chiseled on the gates of Kobol's space port, too, to gain the blessings of the gods. Everybody knew they'd soon have to go and find more planets to colonize. The journey would continue.
It was what Gaeta had said with awe in his voice when Methos had explained the situation to him, too. Methos sometimes wondered if he had gone and become an oracle. Or maybe he hadn't.
More things in heaven and earth, he mused. Who knows?
Fandoms: Highlander the Series / Battlestar Galactica 2003
Characters: Methos, Duncan, Felix Gaeta
Wordcount: ~ 1000 words
Summary: "Ancient immortal floating in space." Duncan chuckled. "Your stories never fail to entertain."
AN: For rap541 and for the prompt Methos & Gaeta, "I know we're both immortal but you know I'm a lot older, right?" Let me tell you that crossover prompts are hard if you've got 31 ficlets to write. But I brought it onto myself, huh?
Heaven And Earth, Horatio
"I keep telling you, Highlander," Methos said patiently. "That there are more things in heaven and earth that you could possibly dream up."
Duncan smirked, leaning forward with sparkling eyes. Smoke was hanging high under the ceiling of the pub, purple liquid swirling in his glass. "While I'm shocked that you can't properly recall that quote anymore," he said. "I'm in. Name one."
"Nobody remembers Shakespeare. Why should I? But, very well." Methos leaned back into his chair and took a thoughtful sip of his own drink. They didn't call it brandy anymore, seeing as natural colors weren't good enough for liquor in this age, but it was still an excellent blend. "Take the first time I came to this colony, a journey which you know I made alone in an old battered coffin of a ship."
"I thought you made it in a boat with five monks." There was a laugh in the Highlander's voice. He rarely believed any of the old man's stories anymore, Methos knew.
"Six monks and that was in the 7th century," Methos huffed. "Don't you ever listen when your elders tell you stories? Now," he continued. "I'd just made it past the solar system when something hit my hull. I couldn't make head or tails of the read-outs so I ran sensor scans and it turned out, it was a human dead body, conserved in perfect shape by all those years in space. And..." He paused dramatically. "I felt a buzz."
Duncan raised an interested eyebrow. "A victim of the War? A lot of pilots died out there. Most of them died when their shuttles took hits, but I suppose an Immortal might have seen merrit in using the ejector seat." They lived in a time where only one war mattered, and all the others paled even to those who had lived them. Methos supposed that even Culloden paled in comparison to a war that had chased them off Earth.
"So I thought," Methos allowed. "I hauled him in, of course. Young bloke, both in looks and age. Had barely made forty when he was first trapped out there in space - air-locked, I don't remember the whole story. At the time, he had apparently been missing a leg and he was rather surprised to find it had regrown during all the years he'd been dead. But..." He raised a finger of the hand holding his glass when Duncan opened his mouth to comment. "...here is the interesting part. He claimed he was not from Earth at all but from a fleet of ships that had been looking for Earth. Insisted on it rather firmly - in a rather peculiar dialect of ancient Mykonos, I might add. It was clear that he knew his way around space travel, and he kept talking about star formations and portents. He drew me a rather uncanny picture of the zodiac signs."
"So he must have been insane," Duncan said reasonably, apparently fiercely determined to not let the old man pull his leg. "If he was from outer space like he claimed - not that it's possible, especially if he spoke Greek - he wouldn't have referenced Earth lore."
Methos shrugged. "Makes you wonder though, doesn't it?" he said. "They are just star formations, that have been around for thousands of years. Maybe he was from a fleet that had been looking for us but never made it. Maybe there used to be human colonies out there, but we forgot. Who knows?"
"But that would mean they must have been founded thousands of years ago!" Duncan exclaimed. "Long enough for nobody to recall. Not even you."
"And Gaeta - as he called himself - might have drifted out there thousands of years himself," Methos agreed. "He might have been older than any of us." He smirked and took another sip. "Even me."
Laughter was dancing in Duncan's eyes. Rather obviously, he had decided to enjoy the story for what it was. They had known each other for almost five hundred years. He had learned to take Methos' relationship with truth for what it was - good entertainment for an evening out in a pub, something to go well with a glass of Ambrosia or two.
"What happened to Gaeta?" he asked and mockingly narrowed his eyes. "You didn't take his head to get his ancient Quickening, did you?"
"Who are you taking me for," Methos answered smoothly. "We spent an entertaining travel together. I taught him the language of the time, and he became quite the conversationalist after a while, although the maintenance robots continued to scare the life out of him up to the end. Once we arrived here, he thanked me for the ride and went off to acquire a new sword. I never saw him again. Soft and gentle as he was, I don't know that he would have grown old."
"Ancient immortal floating in space." Duncan chuckled. "Your stories never fail to entertain."
The older Immortal bowed his head graciously and went back to sipping at his drink.
The pub was getting emptier now. The bartender would soon want them to leave. People in this time and day - strange enough - had rediscovered the old gods, and people would make a stop at a temple of Athena or Artemis on their way home to pray for better crops and lasting peace.
Everybody still feared that the Cylons would find them.
Everything has happened before, Methos mused. And it will all happen again.
The words were written on the top of the scrolls nowadays. He believed they were chiseled on the gates of Kobol's space port, too, to gain the blessings of the gods. Everybody knew they'd soon have to go and find more planets to colonize. The journey would continue.
It was what Gaeta had said with awe in his voice when Methos had explained the situation to him, too. Methos sometimes wondered if he had gone and become an oracle. Or maybe he hadn't.
More things in heaven and earth, he mused. Who knows?