Title: A Wise Man
Author: Caro Dee
Fandom: Highlander
Pairing: Duncan/Methos
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
Archive: WWOMB
Feedback: Lovely. Yes.
E-mail address for feedback: carodee@popullus.net
Disclaimer: Highlander and all its characters are the property of Davis/Panzer Productions, Rysher Entertainment, and Gaumont Television.
Notes: This story was written for the Slash Advent Calendar 2003 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2003
Linda and McJude checked the characterization and Bluewolf grammar- betaed. Thank you, ladies.
Summary: Methos claims to have been one of the three wise men; Duncan is skeptical.
Illistration by PattRose
The hum of an immortal came with the sound of the elevator rising. Duncan swiftly stood from putting the freshly wrapped presents under the tree, and moved to within easy reach of his sword that was casually propped out of the way. As the bars lifted, he saw it was Methos, and relaxed.
"MacLeod!" Methos shrugged off his coat and announced, "I am in desperate need of a drink. *I* have been Christmas shopping."
"You and a million other people, Methos. Are you asking for my sympathy?"
"Absolutely. Where's that drink, Highlander? Come on. Weary traveler here." Methos flung himself down on the couch with a groan.
Duncan smiled at his lover and moved over to the rows of bottles awaiting Christmas visitors. Selecting the bottle of Dallas Dhu, he poured two drinks and moved over to the couch, handing Methos one and sitting down next to him.
Methos took a large sip. "Oh God, I hate Christmas. It seems to get worse every year. More and more rude people in the stores..."
"More and more presents to buy," added Duncan, grinning as Methos rolled his eyes.
"Uglier and uglier Christmas music."
"What? You don't enjoy 'I saw Mommy kissing Santa?' A true Christmas classic," teased Duncan.
"Much as I enjoy the infinite varieties of folk music developed over the millennia, I prefer my holiday music sung by trained choirs during Christmas Mass."
"Snob!"
"Barbarian!"
The two men grinned at each other. Then Methos lifted his face in invitation and Duncan leaned down to kiss him. Methos tasted of fine Scotch and gingerbread. Then a thought occurred to Duncan and he broke off the kiss. "Methos?"
"Mmmm?"
"Where *are* your gifts? Didn't you bring them?"
Methos sighed and reached into the inside breast pocket of his jacket, pulling out a handful of envelopes. "Oh, ye of little faith. I'm hurt, Duncan. Of course I came bearing gifts."
Duncan snatched the envelopes out of his hand and examined them. Plain envelopes of admittedly high-quality paper with names written on them: Duncan, Joe, Richie, Amanda.... "What is the hell is this? *These* are your gifts? Cards?"
"Really, Duncan. I was under the impression that it was the *thought* that counted?" Duncan continued staring fiercely at Methos, who shrugged and added, "Gift certificates. Satisfied?"
"But there's no personal touch to gift certificates, man."
"Well, I rather think Amanda will enjoy her gift certificate to Tiffany's and Joe his to Mad Vinnie's Vintage Vinyl. People can get what they like, rather than pretend to like what they get. It's more practical." Methos added, slyly, "More thoughtful, even."
Duncan sputtered indignantly, hardly knowing how to convey the depth of wrongness in that statement. Finally, he threw up his hands. "Fine! Just fine. Be like that. I should've known you've no' a sentimental bone in your body."
"Precisely."
Shaking his head, Duncan got up to put the envelopes under the tree. Comparing the large number of gaudily wrapped gifts he had placed there earlier and the five plain white envelopes, he felt mildly cheated. Shaking the mood off, he stood and turned back.
Methos was standing and examining the nativity display Duncan had set up prominently. He seemed quite intent on the carved figures.
Duncan moved up next to him and slipped one arm around his waist. "D'ye like the set? It's a Victorian-era Nativity that I found in an estate sale in England about fifty years ago. It's been my favorite ever since."
"Mmm..." Methos frowned and picked up one of the Wise Men. "They got it all wrong, you know."
"What did they get wrong?"
"Well, the robes, for one thing. You try traveling all the way from Babylon to Bethlehem in fancy court robes, which, of course, were a completely different style than this. They arrived in dusty travel garb and were exhausted when they saw the child... who was not in a stable at all at that time. No, a nice comfortable house for that period with not an animal in sight. And there weren't three, if you include the apprentices and of course the entire troop of servants and guards that wealthy men needed when they traveled." Methos put the figure back down. "I'm not surprised they got it wrong, considering all the pivotal historical moments that have been thoroughly forgotten."
Duncan snorted. "And how would *you* know?"
Methos gazed back at him blandly and took a sip of his Scotch.
"No... I don't believe you. Are you telling me you were *there*? I don't believe you."
Methos quirked an eyebrow. "Astrology was a lucrative business, very respected, the height of scientific study at that time. Is it so surprising that I would have done that?"
"Oh, I can believe that, you con man. I don't believe you ever met Jesus."
"A perfectly ordinary-looking child. Lovely eyes, though. Not a clue beyond the Stars that he was going to impact the world the way he did."
Centuries of Christian tradition bred into his Scottish bones rose in Duncan MacLeod and he didn't know whether to react with awe at the possibility that Methos was telling the truth or with anger at the blasphemy if he was joking. His hands shook as he lifted his glass and gulped his drink.
Methos took pity on him. "Oh, relax, Highlander. I lied. I wasn't one of the Wise Men." A beat, then... "I was one of the shepherds. I was in a pastoral mood that century."
Duncan choked on his drink, setting it down with a thump, and turned on Methos. "You... you... you bastard!" He advanced on Methos, grabbing him fiercely and shaking him. "You were playing me!"
Methos smiled, completely unperturbed, and leaned into Duncan's body. "You are much too much fun to play with, and I am a bad man. Perhaps you should punish me."
Duncan purred. "I intend to. I'll beat you until you whimper for mercy!" And he kissed him ruthlessly until Methos felt quite punished.
***
Methos sat on the couch, holding a glass of red wine and gently stroking Duncan's head as it rested in his lap. Duncan's hair was still wet from the shower after their lovemaking.
Methos looked down at Duncan with an affectionate smile. "You're so gullible, Highlander," he murmured.
"Am not," came the sleepy reply.
"Are too," Methos whispered. He stared off into the distance as Duncan slowly settled into sleep, sipping his drink and thinking about the past.
"Of course, that Herod was a complete bastard. Set a good table, mind you, but definitely a man to avoid."
The End