Brave New World 1: Finding Love In Strange Places

Roundrobin by various authors

The truth is out. Immortals were discovered. All the fault of one woman Christine Salzer.

After Kalas was killed by Amanda,she went out to bring the truth about immortals to the light.

Millions of lives were uprooted, both mortal and immortal.

Soon immortals were hunted, some were killed, they were the lucky ones,others were captured, experimented upon. They became society's new labrats. Others still live freely. Always on the run, always in hiding. Most mortals were horrified, some were apathic, only few were accepting.

In this brave new world they must share their world with a race they see as insane, a race they consider self-destructive, but most of all a race they consider as rivals.

For them this new world is scary, making them more aware of their own mortality.

This is the gameplay for the Brave New World RPG

The past few months I have been moderating this AU and finally two parts of it are ready to be read by people on other lists.

I hope you can enjoy it as much as we did creating it.

Title:Brave New World I: Finding Love in Strange Places

Authors:cooperation by members of the Brave New World HL-list

Rating:NC17 slash

Fandom:Highlander

Disclaimer:We don't own anything, just playing, please don't sue

Categorie:AU, mention of rape, ...

Archive:sure, just let me know where

Richie sat hunched down behind a large table. Hiding in the shadows, tilting his chair up on two legs. He was supposed to be out of France already, but he couldn't help himself. A girl he'd just met was sitting on his lap. She was already slightly drunk. He placed his drink to his mouth. It wasn't generally a good idea for an immortal to drink to much. Suddenly a man came running from upstairs.

"Put on the news!" he let out while breathing heavily.

Richie watched helplessly as every person in the room was told about immortals, the Game, the Gathering. His mouth fell open in shock. He didn't even hear the first responses.

Disbelief, mockery. It had to be a joke. But proof upon proof was shown.

And then, finally they all watched as men dressed as police officers dragged a man up in front of the cameras. The man tried to hide his face, but the cops wouldn't let him.

Richie didn't recognize him. He had short dark hair, a sharp nose and seemed only a few years older than himself. As Richie watched he could see the fear in the mans hazel eyes, not just for himself but for them all.

He barely heard the reporter going on and on about the man being proof. Sheer terror showed on the face of every man and woman in the room as one of the cops pushed the man on his knees, put a gun against his head and shot him.

All watched breathlessly as the corpse suddenly gasped for air and cameras showed his head as it healed in front of them.

Richie went silent. He ordered his first beer of the evening and held it thoughtfully. His hand involuntarily went to the sword in his coat. He felt strangely relieved that he'd chosen a place in the back, with a wall right behind him. He instinctively looked up and saw two cops coming in. As far as he could see they weren't there for him, but he still tried to get up as quietly as possible. In his haste to get out, he was looking more at the cops than at the people blocking his path.

The large man was completely dressed in leather. He seemed over eight feet tall and looked mean as hell. Richie immediately started apologizing. The man smirked grimly. Glad to have the chance to work his anger out on someone. He didn't know that his victim was an immortal and he didn't care either. Richie tried to back off but the man still hit him.

The young immortal crashed down on one of the tables.

By the time he got up again, he immediately stood up in a defensive stance.

The man started mocking him and pulled a knife. Richie had been attacked without cause, his head still hurt, even though it was healing and he was way upset over the newscast, but still he'd regret his next action for the rest of his life. He instinctively went for his sword.

At first the crowd stood frozen, but then they fell in a rage. How dare that boy live forever while they would die. Richie could barely defend himself. Soon he was on the ground trying to fight the angry fists and broken bottles that were used as weapons. As he lay on the ground, the first man gave him another kick to the head.

The cops were just about to interfere as Richie's immortal healing abilities kicked in. The sight of the blue lightening knitting up the immortals wounds sent an outrage through the mob. After that even the cops couldn't keep people from killing him. They were barely in time to keep them from taking his head of.

When minutes later Richie gasped for air, even the cops pulled back for a moment. Eyes all around opened in shock. True proof of immortality.

"You ... You're under arrest." One of the cops managed to stammer out before quickly placing cuffs on the young imortals hands.

*** 25 years later ***

It was a faint reminder of a human being that sat huddled up in the corner of his empty white cell. Nobody considered it necessary to do anything to make the cell look like anything else than what it was, a cage. The boy withdrew even more as he heard the door open. A woman entered the room, followed by a few orderliesand a couple of guards.

"Oh my God." The woman nearly poured her guts out at the sight and smell. The prisoner was forced to live in his own filth. "It's horrible."

The boy in the room didn't seem to hear his visitors. His eyes stood wide open, terrified. The woman looked at the guards with their weapons and could understand why. Even an immortal didn't deserve this.

Laura just gazed at the immortal. She'd seen the pictures, read the files, but still she hadn't thought it could really be this bad. She started to understand some of the protest groups complaints. She knew this wasn't the first place like this that was opened up, but it was the first one where she'd come herself. She went up to the immortal and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry." she said, but she wasn't sure whether he was aware enough to understand. It didn't seem to calm him down one bit.

She tried to remember what was in his file.

Richard Ryan, code RR-10235. Born in June of 1979. Present age 41. Raised in various foster homes. Finally taken in by immortal Duncan MacLeod, code DM-09562.

Died first death in 1993. Taught by MacLeod. Captured almost immediately after the Discovery. Spent the past 25 years in this facility.

He had been used in experiments ranging from research on the effects of various viruses, poisons, radiations and medicines, to research on human anatomy and brain-exploration.

Laura knew intellectually that the experiments they did would benefit all of mankind. The results for curing diseases alone could be enormous. The cure for AIDS was one proof of that. She briefly remembered Jacob and Matt who kept talking about the military gains, but what were those compared to medical research, to genetical manipulation. She knew that they were used for a good cause, but to see them like this, she could almost understand the opposition.

These beings might be insane and dangerous as hell, but even they deserved some basic humanity. At the least they shouldn't be forced to live in their own filth.

The doctor looked at the orderly following her in. He just nodded and with some help from the guards they managed to get the immortal on the stretcher. She smiled at the boy, but she didn't think he could understand even that.

**********

Richie was barely conscious as he was moved to the new facility. He barely woke up when they brought him to his new cell. He didn't struggle as they placed him in the bed. No need to undress him, he hadn't had clothes in years. He didn't really think about the place they put him in, he just expected them to put him somewhere and turn a hose on him, but they didn't. Instead it was a bath, a real bath.

The warm water felt strange against his skin that had gotten unaccustomed to the warmth. It tingled on the remaining wounds of the infuses they had stuck in him. Splinters of which constantly stuck in his skin and prevented the wounds from really healing. The orderly calmly cleaned out the wounds and for the first time since long the pain ebbed away.

Afterwards he was dried up and the guard placed some clothes on him. A shirt and a pair of tightfitting shorts. The young immortal didn't respond as they dressed him, nor did he react as they placed him in a bed. He tried to wake up a bit, to truly feel and remember the sensations, terrified it would end up being no more than a dream. That was scary even to him, that even a cell with a bed felt like heaven.

All through the night he expected the doctors to come in in their white labcoats and shiny white gloves. Or their lapdogs the guards, who were inclined to work out their anger on their immortal prisoners.

Any moment now one of them could open the valve in the door and shine a bright white light on his eyes. Usually they did this so randomly that it barely left him any sleep. It was as if they still remembered his resistance when he was first caught. The way he'd fought their every action. It hadn't been long for him to learn from his mistake.

Now he was to afraid to move, to afraid to even breath and when he finally dozed off, his sleep was as deep as that of the dead.

*******

Morning came all to soon, announced by a loud alarm. Richie shot awake as he heard the sound. He wasn't sure what was expected, he didn't even dare come out of the bed, fearing that the doctors would come to take him away for testing if he did.

An hour later he was still lying there. No one had come.

He hesitantly put his feet on the ground, not sure what to do. His eyes kept shooting around. 'Is this another of their tests?' he wondered.

The room had two doors, a bed at one side opposite to one of the doors, a desk and several shelves lined up on the third wall. There was even a carpet on the ground.

The young immortal got worried. There weren't any facilities. It had been bad enough in the old cell, but here? He didn't want to mess up the room.

Finally he assembled all his courage and tried wearily to open one of them.

Strangely enough it gave in. He immediately pulled it shut as soon as he saw that it gave out on a hallway. He immediately pulled back into himself, trembling on the floor.

*******

After a long while he finally managed to get himself to try the second door.

'A bathroom. A honest to god real life bathroom.'

The mere thought of it was overwhelming. It wasn't much. Just a small room with a showerstall, a sink, a toilet and some shelves but it was more than he'd had in years. He wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd first been captured. Nobody ever bothered to tell the labrats the date. Why would they? Immortals weren't human.

He noticed a few changes of clothes lying on one of the shelves. Simple blue trousers with a blue shirt. It took him some effort to remember how to dress himself. It shamed him deeply that he'd almost forgotten even something that basic. He wiped a sponge through his face and struggled to get the shoes on.

It was at that moment that the approaching Buzz of another hit him. He didn't even look up, there had to be other immortals. He'd met enough of them during the experiments. The doctors had once made him take the Quickening of one while they had their sensors all over his body. But this Buzz didn't go away. Not like the almost constant Buzz he'd gotten used to, it almost hurt. He looked up at the door just as he heard someone knocking on the door.

Every hair on his body stood up and he almost jumped straight up to the bed.

The knocking started again. 'Why did they knock? If they wanted in they could do so at any time.'

But he knew that resistance was useless, it would bring him nothing but pain.

"Enter". he finally muttered out.

The door opened almost immediately and he was faced with the other immortal.

Dressed much like himself, completely in blue. Richie didn't know him, but that didn't mean much.

"Hi." The man said. "You're one of the new ones right?"

Richie just nodded.

The man came up to him. "Adam Pierson." he said while offering the other immortal his hand. Richie just looked at him, scared to death. They weren't supposed to say their names. Names were something for humans, immortals didn't have names, they had numbers.

He looked up at the other immortal with wide open eyes.

The man didn't seem offended.

"Don't worry." He kneeled down next to the boy on the bed, his eyes beaming out innocence and helpfulness, but Richie wasn't all that sure whether he could believe it or not.

"Things are different here. They pretend to treat us as people and we pretend to believe it and enjoy whatever they give us as long as possible." He leaned down against the wall. His lanky form almost melting with it. "So what's your name kid."

Richie had to concentrate to remember it. What had the doctor called him. "Ryan" he stammered out. "Richard Ryan."

The mans eyes seemed to light up at hearing that.

"You hungry kid?"

Richie remained unresponsive, doing nothing more than stare at the other immortal.

"If you want to eat you'd best follow me." He headed up to the door, looking back one last time. "The rules say that you can only eat in the cafeteria. They want to make sure that we only eat what they give us. Their testing could get messed up if we started eating each others food." He opened the door. "So kid, you coming or not?"

Richie immediately got up and followed him out.

***********

As they ate Methos explained the kid the rules. They were allowed to sleep in as long as they wanted, eat whenever they wanted. As long as it didn't mess up the doctors schedule at least.

They still weren't asked for permission and the experiments could still be quite painful. By all accounts they were still labrats only now they were labrats in a larger cage with toys.

Methos thoughts went back to the books in his cell, to the chronicles which he'd once again begun writing. Even labrats had to be able to entertain themselves.

Looking at the kid he once again felt the horror he himself had gone through. His eyes went up to the cameras that were everywhere. Even in the rooms. They were hidden of course, but he could always find them. Most of the time he just tried to ignore them, living his life as Adam Pierson and making damn sure nobody found out his real name.

The boy seemed to have noticed the orderlies already. Smart kid. They might not wear guard uniforms or call themselves that way, but that was still what they were there for. He poked in his food. All scientifically decided on for them. Sometimes it was even a part of the testing. You could never know when they put something in it. He didn't think there was this time, but he'd been wrong before.

Only two weeks ago he'd seen Marcus rolling over the floor. Holding his stomach while throwing his guts out, trashing around in pain.

He still didn't know what it had been. Nobody ever bothered to tell the labrats, nobody ever felt the need to let them know what was being done to them, what they were used for. Even Methos had to struggle to keep himself calm thinking about it. He'd been a slave before, he'd deal with it.

"You know kid, if you want, I'll show you to the library. It might get your mind of of things." The boy didn't respond, Methos hadn't expected him to. He'd barely eaten a bite.

Suddenly the Gates shot wide open.

The boy looked up in terror.

"Kanis, Byron." The voice spoke out. Both immortals had known it was their turn but still they trembled as they heard their names called out. Methos had known Byron for a long time, the man was almost unrecognizable. Scared to death, trembling worse then he'd ever done under influence of either drugs or women. Nobody spoke up for them. All to afraid to be called as well. Byron had once been a poet, a genius, now he was a ruin of a man. Almost all that he was, was slowly destroyed and yet even he himself didn't dare stand up for his former student.

Live, grow stronger, fight another day, the words had never sounded as hollow as they did now.

Kanis still struggled. He'd only been caught little over a month ago. Methos had heard him rattle on about what the IRS (Immortal Regulation Service) had done to his dogs, he almost pitied the mans foolishness at that point, what they'd do to the man himself would be much worse. 'Damn fool." The ancient stared at him. Resisting wouldn't help one bit. They would only make it hurt more, and call it disciplinary measures.

Methos got up and took the boys hand. "Come on. Let's go swim."

Richie didn't resist.

**************

Dr Laura Mendez sat quietly in front of the screens. Pierson seemed to be helping Ryan adjust. The tall darkhaired immortal was still pretty much a mystery. The only thing on him that the Watchers had, was that he'd been a member. They'd had proof though that he was at least over two centuries. Aside of that they checked out his writings. Nobody could read them. The immortal seemed to use forms of linear A, Hittite, Akkadian, ... all depending on his moods.

Only few of his writings could be translated.

To bad that security didn't generally allow historians or linguists into the building. These people were living history, what they could learn from them. But no. Immortals were to dangerous. She looked at some of the others. They seemed strangely normal as they sat there. Almost like any other human beings you might meet on the street. Yet some of them were hundreds, maybe even thousands of years old. It was unfortunate that they couldn't be allowed to run free. In their madness they'd only try and kill each other. And that would truly be a waste.

*** A month later ***

"So how do you feel Richie?"

Richie was staring at the wall. His eyes fixed on the door behind his interrogator. The man demanded to know, yet when he was answered he refused to listen. There was a crack in the wall, right behind the man's head. It looked vaguely like a lightening bolt or a flash of Quickening. Slightly curved with little offshoots.

Richie didn't hear what he was saying. His eyes still hurt even after healing for over a day. Despite the ache it gave him he followed the crack up the wall. Trying to keep his head steady. To many movements were just not good. Not good at all. His sight became a bit dazy. Aftereffects of that stuff they'd put in them earlier. He'd heard the doctors say something about that.

The thought of the burning liquid made him quiver slightly. They'd strapped him to the table. His hands, his feet, even his head was locked into a set of clamps. He couldn't even tremble as the doctor brought the syringe up to his face. A drop of the amber stuff sipped out. His eyes were locked open so he couldn't close them. It burned, he tried to beg them not to, but the woman didn't listen. He was given something and his heartbeat calmed down somewhat, but the pain didn't lessen. His pleas just lowered down somewhat.

And his eyes hurt. Burning in his skull.

"You've been in this facility for a month now. Do you like it here?"

Richie kept still and thought about his small room down the hall. The books Adam had given him. Adam. The man's warm hands on his own when he just came out of surgery. The way the older immortal had held him while he was still trembling from the last experiment.

His steady presence when he'd needed him. The chance to mean something like that to someone else.

He jerked back a bit, trying to keep his feelings from showing. Why was he thinking about Adam that way. The immortal was a man.

A good looking man, but a man nonetheless.

Adam.

He'd taken men before. The guards at the last facility when they forced him to ...

He shook of the thought. That was different. Adam was different. Adam would never force him to do anything he wasn't ready for.

Something he didn't want.

The interrogator looked at him, there were no feelings on his face. Nothing but cold objective observation of his subject. Richie ignored him and his pretend friendly voice.

His hand made an involuntary movement. It did that sometimes, since that radiation-test.

The feeling of nausea returned and his hand tapped on his seat. Almost looking for the button to make the shocks stop. Shocks that didn't come. Not here, not now.

When this was over, Adam would be waiting. They were going to eat together before Adam's turn to go under. At least they hoped Adam would be allowed to eat. Sometimes they were forced to fast before experiments. Richie wondered what breakfast would be.

There was usually some kind of recompensation for the previous days testing.

An extra treat. As if that made up for the pain of the tests themselves.

The interrogator put a few pictures in front of him. Richie gave them no more than a glance. They showed a young boy in his teens.

"His name is Mario Gonzalez. He's very grateful to you Richie. You're going to save his life." Richie winced at the words. He knew what the man was talking about. Not again. Please.

But that wouldn't stop the doctors. Now would it? It didn't stop them the first time they needed organs or the time after that or after that or ...

They talked such big talk about it. As if any of these people even realized what the immortals who were forced to donate had to go through. He hoped it wasn't a heart. The last time it had taken over a week before he recovered enough to 'wake up' from that.

To much strain in to little time they'd called it.

What was the man talking about now. How the boy was a footballplayer. He hated footballplayers. He rose up a bit and swiped the pictures of the table. Them and some other items that had covered it. A picture of a woman and some children, a cup with pens in it.

One of those puzzle things people used when they were bored.

There was almost a sign of emotion on the mans face after his action., but it didn't fully break through. Richie shivered under his cold passive eyes and fell into shambles. Pulling in, trying to be as small as possible. To hide in his seat.

"Now, now, Richard, no reason to worry. We'll just pick them up shall we."

Richie didn't move, so the interrogator bended down to pick up the files and pictures. He was standing right in front of him now.

Nothing keeping him away. Not even a desk in between. Richie was to scared to even move.

"You should be happy, Richard. You're in a safe place, you've got enough to eat, a roof over your head ..." blah blah blah.

The young immortal no longer listened. What did they expect of him? To be grateful for all this. For the pain, the slavery. They couldn't possibly be that stupid.

"You did murder several people, Richie." the man continued, not even noticing that his charge was no longer listening. Richies thoughts went back to Mako. The first man he'd ever killed. Would he ever lose guilt over that? It was true immortal lives weren't generally nice. They generally contained a lot of blood and violence. But did that make him a bad person. Or being. The interrogator probably didn't even see him as a person. Just as a mindless individual cursed with an immortal life of kill or be killed. It was hard to accept such kind of judgements. Especially since he knew so much more, but what would denying it bring him.

The man looked at him. Probably trying to figure out what to put in his report.

Well he had at least one high point.

'Ryan showed anger against Pictures' or something like that.

The bell rang, indicating his turn was up. Richie scrambled up as fast as he could. Getting eyes from Kanis who was locked to the bench outside. The man's eyes looked harried. Almost angry. Richie could remember a time he'd looked like that. But his anger had proved useless so he'd given up on it.

He hurried up to the cafeteria. Adam would be waiting. There was no food in front of the older immortal. Richie winced in his stead. That couldn't be good. He remembered the state the man had been in the past few days. Not again. They'd been using him all week for crying out loud.

But Richie didn't cry out. He didn't say a word. All he dared to do was give the older immortal a smile. Adam understood and took his hand.

"You'd better go get your meal. Before they decide you don't need it."

Richie nodded and got up. They were alone, so he didn't have to wait long.

Steak with beans and fried potatoes. He was grasped by a cold feeling in his chest. They only gave this kind of food right before major transplants. He had to take a breath. "Not again" he whispered. He took his plate to the table.

Adam helped him sit down. He understood.

So they sat there, not saying a word. Sharing the moment.

Together in pain.

'Did he like it here?' the man had asked. He liked Adam. But that as they say was all.

*********

Methos sat practically alone in the dining room. A few immortals tricked in and out. Those that got to eat, did so quickly and retreated back to their room. He knew he would be going hungry today. He'd been hungry for a week now. But starving was the least of his problems. He was to worried about Richie to think of food.

The poor kid had been here just as long as he had, but Richie's free spirit wouldn't let him adjust. The ancient feared for his sanity. He had seen immortals with stronger mentalities then Richie's go insane. Sometimes Methos doubted his own mental health.

There was something else about Richie that boggled his mind. He was starting to have feelings for him. Feelings he hadn't had in a very long time. He wasn't sure if what he felt was truly love or just a side effect of loneliness. It wasn't like he had never been with a man before. He was 5000 years old. There were few things he hadn't tried or done as far as sex was concerned.

He thought about how Richie had responded to his touch. Almost as if he welcomed it. He had never made any moves on him, but when Methos had held him after one of the operations he could have sworn that Richie held him back.

He brightened slightly as he heard familiar footsteps come into the room.

Hazel eyes glanced up through thick lashes, falling on the slightly shaken young man heading in his direction. He saw pity in the young man's eyes as he noticed the empty place in front of him.

Methos took his hand, hoping to encourage him to be stronger.

"You better go get your meal. Before they decide you don't need it any more." He watched Richie go up to the desk and then leaned back in the chair, tracing imaginary shapes on the table top until he came back.

When Richie returned he got up and pulled out the chair so the boy could sit. His tray was filled to the edges with steak and potatoes. A sure sign that Richie was up for a transplant operation. He patted the young man's hand as they sat in perfect silence.

Not even an hour had passed before an orderly came to collect Methos.

Richie was still pushing beans around his plate. Somehow knowing what this meal would cost him, just took out the taste.

*********

It was about an hour later that Laura got out of her apartment and headed for the center. The traffic was still light. It was rather early in the morning.

"Goodmorning Dr Mendez." One of the guards greeted her.

"Any trouble?" she asked him.

"Two of the Immies had a fight. We had to separate them. They're in solitary right now." Laura nodded. The regular course of the day.

Another sign of their insanity, immortals just couldn't seem to live together in peace. She headed through the white halls of the building and went straight to her office. The days schedule was waiting for her on her computer.

Brainchirgurie
Bloodresearch
Livertransplant
Electrocifilic research
Psychological reviews

She stopped reading.

Another busy day. She looked at the videoscreens displaying some of the immortals. Most of them were still asleep. Only Pierson and Ryan were in the cafeteria. Byron was awake, but he hadn't left his room yet. There were a few sitting in the televisionroom.

Watching the early news. Laura presumed they still wanted to know what was happening in the outside world. Why couldn't they just understand this was for the best. Even for them.

She put down her files and started her rounds.

*******

Stella was waiting for her, ready to start their round. Laura noticed that the young woman seemed a bit nervous. Quite expectable, the accident the day before must have really spooked her. She handed her list of subjects over.

"We'll start with Pierson. He should be recovered from yesterday's testing by now."

Together they went to the lab.

Pierson was strapped to one of the tables in the middle of the room. There were no observers present. Not during this kind of work It tended to scare the investors. The immortal seemed to be uncomfortable. He tried not to show it, but his hands and feet were rustling in the shackles holding them to the cold metal.

Laura took out her taperecorder.

"Pierson, mapping of the brain, test one of day 15."

She looked over at her 'patient'.

"Pierson is fully awake. In order for the test results to be correct, he must be completely aware."

The Doctor hesitated for a second. She didn't like working this way. Unfortunately any sort of tranquilizer, sedative or drug would upset the results. The brainactivity wouldn't registrate as it should and the test would loose most of its worth.

Pierson shrank back as she approached. It was as if he was trying to melt with the table. Anything to get away from her touch. The immortal knew what would happen and he didn't like it.

One of her assistants started the last preparations. His hair had been half shaven of two days before. So it was easy to draw the lines on his head that would indicate where she would have to do the incisions.

It was all to clear that the immortal was trying to keep from showing his fear, but she could see it in his eyes. In the way the hairs of the back of his neck stood up, in the slight drops of sweat that showed on his skin.

She looked at the monitor. His heartbeat was going down, he was trying to hide in his mind. She couldn't allow it. Normally she wouldn't mind, but for this test he had to be 100% aware. His brainresponses had to be the regular course for any human. She slapped him in the face to get him out of his concentration before his mind slipped away.

It wasn't until all the preparations were ready that she started cutting. At first the immortal tried to hold in, but soon he was screaming.

Especially when she started applying the sensors and transductors to his brainlobes. The brain itself might not have any nerves, but the messages sent through the devices was enough to make any man scream in agony. Laura knew she would never forget those screams for as long as she lived. But she couldn't let that stop her

********

Richie didn't feel like moving, not after Adam was gone. He looked at his plate. If he didn't eat he'd pay for it later. Not to mention that the orderlies would make him eat, whether he wanted to or not.

He had to force himself to swallow every single bite of the food. It used to be one of his favorites, now he could barely stand the smell of it. He looked up and down, starting to shake.

The hairs on his arm stood up, it was as if something inside him was screaming to get out. A single tear tried to escape his eye, he wiped it of before it caught anyones attention. His heart was thumping in his chest and he almost jumped up, racing to his room.

He froze when he saw whom he nearly ran into.

One of the doctors.

'Oh God, please let them just kill me.' He staggered back, trying to apologize, she didn't seem to mind and got away as fast as she could herself. Richie looked at the door she'd been coming from. He could hear Adam's screaming in the single moment that it was slightly opened.

'Adam'

He went on to his room. Forcing himself to move away. Interfering in the doctors work wouldn't gain anything for anyone.

His breathing became heavier and heavier with every single moment. He had to sit down, make himself calm. Grabbing a book he ducked down against his desk with it.

Moby Dick just couldn't keep his attention.

'Adam.' his mind screamed 'in pain.' why didn't I do something, anything.

His heart thumped in his chest.

For a moment he could feel a lust come up in his brain to kill every last one of the 'doctors', the 'assistents' , the 'orderlies',...make them pay as he'd payed, as Adam had payed. Make them suffer, no matter of the cost to himself. But then reason once again took a hold of him and he knew that there was no way he could do it and come out of it.

He didn't mind dying so much, not any more. But there were worse things than death and the doctors knew them all.

Later he wouldn't remember how long he'd been sitting there. How long a time he'd blocked out his mind. All he remembered was hearing the sounds in the hall. He got up to the door, opening it just enough to see what was happening.

A couple of orderlies were railing Adam into his room. Richie quickly closed his door when they looked his way. Couldn't let them see him. Couldn't let them catch him.

He waited for the noise to die down, making sure that they didn't see him leave.

"Adam?"

Someone put his hand on the his arm ."Come on, son. You can't help him. Wouldn't he want you to take care of yourself?"

Richie couldn't stop it as the guard helped him to his room. Leaning close the man whispered." Don't worry son, soon people will get their heads out of their butts and let all of you folks go home. I don't like what goes on any more than you do, but I can't leave all of you to them monsters can I?"

Richie shivered as Jon kissed the top of his head as if he were kissing a child. "You get some sleep now, and remember you're stronger than any of them. They can't break you unless you let them."

Richie tried to stop him, but he found himself incapable of resisting. 'Guard Bad. Can't let guard touch me' kept playing in his head. He didn't move.

His eyes kept following the man as he left the room. He'd barely understood the mans words. He seemed nice. But Richie knew he'd been fooled before.

One of the guards at the last Center had seemed nicer as well. He'd always brought Richie an extra snack. Richie had almost trusted him, then the man had started touching him, holding him, before he'd been able to stop it, the man had raped him and Richie didn't dare stop him or try and do so. The man kept coming back again and again. There was nothing he could do about it. The further it went, the more painful the rapes got and the more the man's insults increased. If anyone noticed, no one bothered to stop it.

Why bother if someone decided to have fun with one of the Immies.

He pulled himself together. He couldn't let them do this. He got out of his bed and raced up to Adams room before they could stop him. Adam was still lying there. It didn't seem as if he'd moved.

"Adam." he whispered.

The older immortal's eyes jumped open. Richie staggered back at the wild look of pain that filled them.

"Adam?" He hesitated a few seconds and sat down next to the man that had strangely enough become more important to him than anyone or anything else in the world.

**************

The pain Methos was feeling was undescribible. It was blinding. His long body shook from it. Somewhere in the agonizing haze he heard Richie calling out to him. He could see the young man standing over him, outlined in a shimmery light. An after-effect of the experiment. He sat down next to him on the bed and collected Methos in his arms. Just like Methos had done to him so many times.

He rode out every wave of pain with Methos, wincing as Methos squeezed his hand in pain.

Soon it was over. The pain was slowly waning and Adam was only left with a dull throb. He began to hold Richie back.. The poor kid was scared to death. Methos broke the embrace and stood up on shaky legs. He walked a short distance to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror to make sure everything was still there, spitting into the sink when he taste buds finally came back to life. His mouth was filled with blood, probably from biting his tongue.

Richie was on the end of the bed. His back against the wall and his knees drawn up to his chest. He felt a pain in his heart for the young man. He shouldn't be here. Nobody should be here. He sat down next to the boy and took his hand. encouraging him to be brave with tearful hazel eyes. Richie began to break down. All the frustration and anger became to much. Methos collected his sobbing body in his arms an delivered a kiss on his smooth forehead. Silent tears escaped from his eyes, he weeped more for the boy then for himself.

"Don't worry." He whispered. "I have a feeling we won't be here for very much longer."

**************

She sat down in her office for a few seconds and breathed out deeply. Allowing herself to try and deal with what she'd had to do. She could understand that a young woman like Stella Reyme might have problems with it.

She didn't always like it either but the work they did was essential.

She took her remote and held it in front of her mouth.

"Television on" She thought for a few seconds. "Newsreport."

The set immediately clicked on to CNN. The IFF had just committed another attack on one of the centers. Luckily noone had been harmed and two of the terrorists had been arrested.

Both were mortal.

She sighed. Why couldn't these people understand the necessity of the work they did here.

These so-called freedomfighters were almost as bad as the hunters. One group destroying years of work in a false attempt to free people that couldn't handle freedom, the others killing those same people out of fear. Simply forgetting anything that could be won from them for the sake of hate and superstition.

The schedule had held one such appointment. The center would buy a captured immortal from one of those rogue hunter groups. At least here the woman would be safe. From the hunters, her own kind, but most of all from herself.

"Television off." She commanded.

She took a look at the videoscreens. What in god's name was Ryan doing in Pierson's room. How close where those two getting? She had to ask the staff psychologist to look up on that.

*********

Richie looked up at him. Disbelieving. He'd spent half his life imprisoned, how could he be expected to believe in hope anymore. The older immortal kept stroking his back. Holding him.

The boy looked at him wondering. Methos wasn't sure what to say, whether there was anything more he could say. "I won't leave you."

"Immortals die." the boy muttered.

Methos was shocked to hear the words coming from one as young as Richie.

Unfortunately he could understand where the kid was coming from. Death was easy in a world where you were part of the most hated minority. Immortal lives seemed worthless to most people.

The only ones who seemed to care that immortals lived where the doctors using them for experimentation. To them they were valuable. Would there really be anyone outthere who even gave a damn anymore. He'd heard about the IFF, but reports about them were sketchy at best. Mostly showing them as terrorists. Did they really fight to free immortals or was that just something they said to cause damage.

Some of the others seemed to believe in them.

"I won't die." he finally said to Richie. Making a promise both knew he could impossibly keep. "We'll both survive."

He smiled a teasing grin at the kid. "When we get out of here I'll buy you an ice cream." Richie softly laughed at the idea. His lips seemed unused to it. He stopped almost instantly.

"With sprinkles and strawberries on top." the kid answered with a boyish tone.

"Whatever you want?"

"But what if what I want is you?"

Methos looked at him in surprise. Richie started blushing as soon as he'd finished the words.

Methos was unsure of how to answer the boy. "If it is me that you want," he said as she lifted Richie's chin to look down at his young, perfect face, "then it's me that you will get." Methos let his thumb trace Richie's sultry lips, shivering as he felt them respond. Slowly, he leaned in and replaced his finger with his lips. Richie seemed scared at first, but he made no motion to retreat. Instead, he kissed back. Moving his lips with Methos'. The kiss seemed to last for an eternity, but the spell was broken by the sound of a door slamming across the hall. Methos became aware of his surroundings again. This was not the place for this. As much as he wanted to continue, he wouldn't give those people behind the camera the satisfaction of a free peep show.

**********

Richie couldn't believe what was happening. Adam wanted him. He'd been terrified when he'd mentioned it. Scared to dead that the man would back away from him. But the older immortal hadn't backed away.

He could still feel the man's lips on his own.

Shivers went down his body. He was startled when Adam suddenly stopped. The older immortal was looking at a corner of the room.

The camera, made out of unbreakable glass.

Adam was still not ready to leave the room though. He staggered back a bit as a pained look crossed his eyes. Richie hurried to support him to the bed.

"I'm sorry Richie. I really ..."

He just nodded, showing the older immortal he understood.

"I can wait Adam." Not that it wouldn't be hard though. The man seemed to hesitate for a second.

"Richie, my name isn't Adam. It's Methos."

"Methos?" Richie said under his breath as he struggled to remember where he had heard it before. Then it came to him. It had been a priest ... Darius who had told him about Methos. A look of wonderment came over Richie's face, causing Methos to laugh.

"Ah, you've heard the name before." He said.

"You could say that." Richie said as he started remembering things he had long ago forgotten.

*** Paris, 1993 ***

Richie sat in an old leather chair, picking fuzz out of the cracks made by time.

"Stop that." Tessa said as she noticed the pile of white cushion guts he was making on the floor.

"Sorry." He said quietly as he pushed the pile underneath the skirt of the chair with his foot. He looked down at his watch, groaning because it had only been about thirty minutes. Duncan and Darius were going through dusty old books looking for information on some rusty piece of history Duncan picked up at an auction and catching up on old times. Definitely not Richie's idea of fun. He squirmed in the chair, like a five year old at a church service. Darius noticed and invited him over to the table, giving him a large tattered book.

"If your so bored, help us look." Richie started to laugh until he saw that the priest was serious.

"Gee, can't wait." He said as he pulled open the large book. Wiping the dust off his jeans. He scanned through the brittle pages looking, half listening to the conversation when something sparked his interests.

"How can you say that Methos is the oldest?" Duncan said trying to antagonize the other man. "Nobody has seen him for a very long time. He's more of a myth then a man."

"So what if nobody's seen him. Is he supposed to put his address in a newsletter to pass around every year.

Maybe he just wants to be alone after five thousand years." Darius said as he stuck his nose further in the book.

"Whow," Richie said. "Five thousand years. There is a five THOUSAND year old immortal." The two men just looked at each other and shrugged. "No, no. You can't bring it up and then drop it. Tell me about him."

"Well ... go ahead and tell him about Methos. What ever I say you'll disagree with anyway." Duncan said as he leaned back in the chair crossing his arms on his chest.

"The only thing I know about him is by word of mouth only. I don't think I have ever met the man personally. But they say he designed the pyramids and even taught Alexander the Great the art of war. It was also said that Methos invented the written word." This sent Duncan into a wild fit of laughter. Darius just rolled his eyes and continued.

Richie had by now shut the book and was thoroughly entranced by the priest's story.

"They also said he invented beer." Duncan said as soon as he got a hold of himself.

"I suppose you're going to tell me he delivers toys to all the good boys and girls of the world too. Come on guys, you're pulling my leg." Richie said as he opened the book back up, cursing when he noticed he'd lost his page.

*******

"So, am I everything you expected a five thousand year old man to be." Methos said as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"You don't look a day over three thousand." Richie said, hoping Adam, no Methos would smile. He had a great smile.

"Thanks ... I think. But seriously. No one else knows about who I am or how old I am. So call me Adam." Richie just nodded. "There is another reason I told you who I was." Methos continued. "With my real name comes my heart. I trust you. So, don't break it."

Methos said as he poked Richie in the arm with his finger.

Jon knocked on Adam's door. Methos recognized him instantly. He was the one that always checked up on them after the so called Doctors put them through hell. He was also one of the only orderlies/guards that always knocked. Opening the door he had a clear view of Richie and Adam sitting together "You boys all right? Well, son don't make him too tired OK? I'm going home now." The man started to head out, something seemed to make him turn around. He grinned.

"If anyone starts giving you boys a hard time hang with Kinkade. He may not talk but the last son of a bitch who messed with him got his arm shoved up his ass. He won't bother you as long as you don't bother him."

Richie looked up at the guard, trying to hide behind Methos.

He still couldn't believe that Adam was Methos, nor that the man had trusted him enough to tell him his real name.

Methos nodded at the guard, apparently trusting him. Richie couldn't see why. No guard/orderly or whatever you want to call them could ever be trusted. Even when they did pretend to be nicer. Especially then.

Suddenly the alarm sounded. Something was wrong. He shivered up against Methos. Not daring to speak. Neither of them left the room. Anything could be happening and it wasn't generally a good idea to be around where there's trouble.

********

Jon excused himself to see what was going on. Methos wanted to look too but it wasn't a good idea. Besides he would hear what happened as soon as everything settled down. There really wasn't much to talk about in the center, so anything new spread like wild fire.

"Why is he being so nice to us?" Richie said when he was sure Jon was gone. Methos shrugged, the alarm was battering his brain.

Richie watched him struggle with the noise, not saying another word until it was quiet.

"Who knows." Methos said as he collected his thoughts again. He could understand Richie distrust of the guards and even of mortals in general. The place he'd come from before the Denver center was notorious for it's cruelty towards immortals, so bad even that it almost made this place look good. It would have been useless to try to explain to him that not all mortals are bad. Especially when he was losing his faith in them himself.

The commotion in the hall began to die down and Methos judged it safe to poke his head out of the door. The immortal whose room was next to his was making his way back. He barely knew the guy. He had only been caught a couple of months ago. They only talked occasionally when they passed in the hall. Methos found him annoying and shallow, but he was as good a person to ask as any.

"Hey man. What happened?" Methos said as the man got a little closer. The immortal's eyes lit up. Methos could tell he was dying to tell someone.

"Oh man it was sweet. One of the research assistants was attacked in the dining room. The dude totally broke her neck. It was sorta a shame, she was a sweet little thing" Methos pondered this for a second before asking another question. "So she's dead."

"Well she was. I heard from a very reliable source that she walked out of here on her own two feet."

"Who was she?"

"I don't know her name. Young though, nice curves, long reddish blond hair. She's always helping the Mendez woman." He stopped his description when a look of recognition came over Methos' face. Just then two guards turned the corner and started walking down the hall towards them. The informant ducked into his room and Methos did the same.

He remembered the girl, Stella Reyme. She had assisted in many of Mendez's experiments. He had to admire the way life worked. He started laughing, leaning against the door to support himself. Richie looking on, wondering what got into his friend.

***********

Richie was still shaking his head in wonder as he left the room. Was a weird sense of humor part of old age or something? He softly paced through the halls. Not sure where to go.

His room?

Maybe.

Adam, no Methos needed to be alone, to sleep. For a second he considered returning. Crawling in bed with his older friend. But he was afraid that if he did he couldn't stop at just sleeping with the man. Not any more. Not after that kiss.

He stopped in front of his room for a second. Could he stay there? The young immortal decided not to, leaving for the library. Adam would not believe it when he told him that, but he was bored. There weren't many moods here in the center.

Either you were scared, bored or angry.

Except when Adam ...

He passed the board in front of the cafeteria. He couldn't help look at it.

Just to know what would happen. It was as if something was stuck in his throat when he noticed his name.

Two days from now. Nothing before that.

They'd let him rest up so his body would be as strong as possible for the chirgurie. It felt as if his heart was throbbing in his throat. Not again. He had to fight to keep standing.

A tall brown haired immortal came by and halted for a second when he noticed him standing like that. The man almost seemed old, yet Richie knew that he couldn't have been more than 30 when he first died. What was his name, Byron.

Methos had told him about the guy.

He'd been a poet.

Richie got up and went on to the library, ignoring the other immortal. Was this what they were all heading for? Ruined wrecks of human beings. He would have, if not for Methos.

Before the old man had started taking care of him he'd barely remembered his own name. Terrified of even thinking about his life before ... He wasn't sure how much of his memories were real any more.

They seemed so bright and cheerful. There was a woman ... no two women and a man. MacLeod. His teacher, best friend and ... dare he say it ... father.

He could barely remember the mans face. Yet in the first days, the thoughts of Macs approval were the only things that had kept him going.

But it hadn't helped much. Now had it. The pain never stopped and he'd crumbled, done whatever the guards wanted him to do. The shame of it still hurt. That he hadn't fought more, done something, anything. How could Mac have understood. The Highlander would have kept fighting. He was sure of it.

But not him, he'd just given in to them and tried to forget. v Until the mysterious Adam showed up. Adam, Methos.

He almost started crying. But then he remembered other words.

"Men don't cry." He couldn't remember where the words came from, but they came with pain and Richie held in.

He entered the library and quickly found that no one paid him any extra attention. Only two immortals were inside and they left as soon as they got what they came from. The guard/librarian was busy cataloguing some of the new books so he didn't notice Richie as the young immortal crawled under the big oak table at the back of the room. He felt almost safe as he sat there hidden away by the large dark tablecloth that covered the table. It was stupid really, anyone looking for him would probably find him as soon as they saw his feet peek out from under but he didn't really care. He liked this place and the idea of privacy that it gave him as he slumped his back against the wall.

His eyes followed the light slipping through from a split in the cloth, tracing the light shining up on his legs. He tried to stay awake, but more and more he had to rub his eyes to keep them from closing. He could barely suppress a yawn and slowly but steadily he fell asleep.

******

A long slender finger followed a path across his leg. Richie shivered slightly as a second finger started tracing the first one. He could almost feel the tension in his boxers as his body reacted to the merest touch. He moaned when the finger stopped and his body shivered, aching for something he'd never known he wanted.

Something wet then replaced the fingers brush and his body stretched, convulsing in pleasure under the mans teasing tongue. A large hand touched under his boxers, brushing his hard cock, gently squeezing his balls.

Then the man's face appeared in front of his, his hazel eyes looking in Richies own blue ones. A grin played across his face, both tantalizing and horrifying him, scaring him to death of what might come.

Richie tried to move his hands, to touch the man.s naked chest, but found them tied behind his head, bound by some kind of rope. He looked at his lover wanting to ask what was happening and for a single second Methos' face was replaced by that of the guard. "Methos." he whispered.

********

Methos shivered in his bed, groaning slightly as he turned over. His tongue brushed past his palate, exceeding that and wetting his upper lip. His bare leg stretched over the clean white sheet, streaking it with a line of sweat. The tips of his fingers followed a track on his legs, leaving a clear path. His cock hardened under his own touch, releasing another groan this time of pleasure rather than pain.

****

He could feel the boy's hardness in his hands. Richie grasped as his fingers rubbed over its length. Methos gazed at the young immortal under him. More a boy than a man. The sweet child tasted even better on his tongue than the finest ambrosia.

The old man kneeled over the boy's fine hairy legs, grabbing hold of his boxers, slipping them down easily. He looked as magnificent as Methos had imagined he would.

Richie tried to reach out to him, but his hands were tied over his head.

Metho's tongue climbed up to the younger immortal's chest. The boy shuddered, gasping in pain as Methos fine slender fingers let loose of his balls.

The ancient started nibbling on Richies nipples. Softly, sucking slightly.

Richie stretched back into the pillow, his hard cock moving up against Methos' chest. Methos climbed farther up his legs, holding Richie's locked to the floor. The old man was still wearing his own jeans and the rough texture brushed harshly against Richie's exposed thighs.

"Please ..." Richie murmured. "Please Methos." The boy was begging, not sure of what but begging for something.

Methos moved up, hanging over the boys mouth, undoing the button of his pants and moving the zipper of his pants in front of Richie.

The kid bit into it, trying to grab on to the metal with his teeth, carefully pulling it downwards. Methos didn't offer any help.

He didn't move afterwards, giving the boy a look of what was hidden behind the opened pants, showing he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Richie moaned ever so slightly, a tear streaked down his perfect face. Methos licked it up before it could even reach the younger immortal's cheek, moving his way up to the boy's mouth.

Richie's lips opened at the first touch. Methos lowered himself, his legs tangling around Richie's. Grabbing onto them. Their lips didn't even touch as Methos moved his tongue inside, exploring the boys mouth with sudden ticklish brushes.

Even now his nose touched his young lover's, taking up Richie's scent while his tongue grasped for his flavor.

Young so young.

Richie still couldn't move anything other than his face and Methos pulled back when he noticed the kid grasping for air.

"Please ... No ... Don't leave."

The words were barely understandable but Methos just smiled and took the cords that held the boy's hands, releasing him. "Freedom." he whispered in the boy's ear.

Richie shivered with anticipation as the man's warm breath caressed his ear.

His hands were free, but Richie was afraid to bring them down. Afraid that touching would only prove this wasn't real.

Methos ran his rough, hands along the sensitive inner arms, creating goose bumps on his soft flesh. Richie arched his back as the hands traced the an invisible path to his chest and down to his stomach.

Richie moaned loudly as Methos worked his magic over his young body. Writhing under his touch.

*********

The librarian looked up from her work of shifting through books and searched the room for that mysterious noise. For a second she chalked it up to her imagination playing tricks on her but then she heard it again. Louder this time and with more regularity. She dropped what she was doing and began to follow the sound, weaving her way through the shelves and tables until she came to one in the very back of the room. But there was nobody there. She listened closely for the moan again. Her eyes caught sight of a shoe sticking out from under the table. She lifted the cloth and found a sleeping immortal. He looked so peaceful and happy it was almost a shame to wake him, but she had too. His moaning was beginning to worry her.

She reached out and grabbed his foot, shaking it roughly. "Hey, wake up."

Nothing happened so she pulled his foot with all her might.

That did it. The man woke with a start, slamming his head on the table. The women winced in his place as he rubbed his forehead.

"Are you ok? You look flushed." She asked him as she backed away, giving him plenty of room to get up.

"Ummm...yeah. I have to go." he avoided her gaze as he rushed back to his room.

** The morning after, Breakfast. **

Methos felt better then he had in years. If a dream could make him feel this good then he couldn't wait till the dream became reality.

Richie came in the dining room shortly after him. Blushing deeply as he sat in the chair next to him.

"Good morning." Methos chipped happily. "Sleep well?" Richie nodded tempted to tell the older man about his dream, but he was beat to it.

"So, You'll never guess the dream I had yesterday."

Mesmerized by the dark, husky promise underlining the cheerful tone, Richie felt his mouth go dry and he swallowed hard.

"Oh?" He croaked, wiping suddenly sweat damp palms on his pants. /You're imagining things!/ He chastised himself. He owed Methos more than he could ever repay and he'd kill himself before he'd make the man uncomfortable. With a supreme effort, he lifted his head and met Methos' gaze directly.

The greenish gold hazel eyes held enigmatic amusement and - something else ... what *was* that? A shiver ran down Richie's spine. What -

"Yes. It was quite amazing." Methos drawled.

Drowning, oh God he was drowning in those eyes. Richie gulped, dampening his dry lips with an almost equally dry tongue. Methos' eyes dropped briefly to Richie's mouth, following the gesture with an avidness that made something flip over in the pit of his stomach. Richie *knew* he wasn't mistaken about the flare of heat in those remarkable eyes. Did that mean ?

A bare breath later, he sucked in a harsh breath, sinking his teeth deep into his lip to prevent the moan sparked by the feel of Methos' hand trailing fire up the inside of his thigh.

"I was thinking of something." Methos said as he ran his hand up Richie's thigh. "There are places in this center that aren't watched as closely as our rooms. If we could find one of those places, then...." His voice trailed off as his hand got higher.

"Then what's stopping us. Let's go." Richie said as he pulled the old man off the chair. "I think we should start at the pool."

The next few hours Methos enjoyed watching Richies good humor. The kid would go in one room, while he went to another. Both checking for every plausible place with no camera. Richie didn't dare go back to the library again so Methos got to check that one out while the kid checked up somewhat further up the hall.

No luck. There were several people on both places.

Richie kept an eye on every place on, under or next to something, anything that could keep them our of side. They'd tried the pool, but some of the others were in it. The large dressingrooms, one for men and one for women were both heavily supervised. Absolutely out of the question for what they were planning.

********

Richie finally sat down, his head in his hands.

"We won't ever find a place." Richie said in defeat.

"Keep up hope." Adam said ruffling Richie hair playfully. Richie ducked away, hands shooting up to fix it back into place. Adam was exhausted now. He stretched out in the chair, closing his eyes. He wasn't in the same shape he used to be.

"Maybe we should be a little risky." Adam said after a little thought. He opened his eyes just enough to watch the younger ones expression.

"Risky?"

"Maybe we need to look in places that you really wouldn't think of. Small out of the way places."

"Oh, I can see where you're going with this and I know the perfect place. But I have to get it ready. Meet me in my room in five minutes."

Richie bounded off like a ball of energy, leaving Adam wondering what the boy was up to. He closed his eyes again let his hands fall limp to the ground. He began to gather his energy, wishing things were different, wishing he wasn't so tired and hungry. But then again, if things were different, would he have even met Richie. If the secret had never been told, would they have ever crossed paths. And if they did, what could have happened?

******

Richie met him at the door, opening it before Adam could even knock.

"I like what you've done with the place." Adam said as he stepped over clothes strewn across the floor.

"Oh. I had to make room." Richie could see that Adam didn't seem to understand what he meant. He took him by the hand and led him into the closet, pointing to his handy work. With the clothes gone and the shelves taken out there was a surprising amount of room.

"We could both fit. If we squeeze." Richie said encouragingly.

Methos didn't wait a second and pushed the younger immortal against the wall.

"Let's see. Here's room."

Richie felt himself pushed up to a hook Methos noticed and moved more to the corner, pulling the door closed behind him with his foot.

"This'll do just fine."

Richie smiled at the idea of a first time in the dark. He couldn't see Methos, but he could feel the mans hands on him even through his shirt.

Methos no longer said a word and almost pulled the kid's shirt right off of him. Richie pushed him of a second and helped him get the shirt of without tearing it.

Even in the dark he could imagine the ancient's grin as the shirt was pushed out of the way. The young immortal started opening the buttons on Methos' shirt. Teasing the ancient one by doing the job as slowly as possible. But he was only at the third button when he could no longer wait and pulled the mans shirt of over his head.

"Patience young one."

"I'll show you who's young, old man." He hissed in Methos ear when the older man pressed his body against his own. His tongue softy trailed Methos ear, hissing warm brushes of air in it.

There was still to much clothing between them. His hands went under Methos black undergarments. First under the shirt, then lower.

Methos arched back, almost hitting his head against the door.

The ancients limber fingers went to the buttons of Richies trousers and started undoing them. Pulling both pants and boxers down easily.

"That's unfair. Now you're wearing more than I am."

Methos chuckled. "You're right, let's even things up." and he started pulling of his own set of pants. Clumsily falling against the other side of the closet while doing so.

Richie fell down in between the other immortals long legs. His trousers still hanging halfway his legs.

*********

Richie was the first to start laughing. Only to start shivering as Methos touched him.

"You're not scared of me, now are you."

Richie grabbed his mouth in a kiss before he could continue.

"Does that answer your question," he hissed slowly in the ancients ear.

Methos smirked and let his nimble fingers pass along the youngsters body. His touch felt cold and Richie took his finger, blowing warm air on them. His breath prickled up Methos hairless skin and Methos pulled the younger immortal towards himself.

He ignored his bodies response for a second, then he took the boys full length in his mouth. At first Richie tensed up, not quite sure what to expect. Then he convulsed in pleasure as Methos tongue started stroking upwards. The boys head hit the back of the closet but he didn't even screech to much taken over by the pleasure brought to him by the ancient's mouth.

Neither spoke.

Richie wasn't sure what to do. This was the first time he'd ever willingly been with a man. The other times didn't really count as experience. Having someone force you against the ground and forcing his cock inside you wasn't exactly the kind of thing that could have prepared him for something like this. He shivered at his memories of the guard but the Methos warm administrations brought him back to the present. Richie could feel the ancients fingers move inside him.

First one, then two, then a third. They felt cold, yet there mere touch made him gasp out in pleasure.

"Don't worry Richie, just let it happen."

"More, please." He could barely get the words out of his mouth as his body moved along with Methos hand. Methos hand left him and a bit of light came in the closet as Methos seemed to be looking for something.

It took a few minutes before he did. Richie could see it in the mere spots of light coming through the peek in between the doors. Some kind of tube.

Methos put some on his fingers and once again Richie could feel them enter him, this time covered with something cold and soft.

"Do you really want me to do this?" The old man asked before continuing,

Richie was so overrun by shivers that all he could get out was a small nod. Methos didn't wait and moved inside the boy. Richie had to keep himself from screaming out. It didn't take long for Methos to position himself inside. Richies back against his chest.

Richie's hands held on to his own cock as Methos started pushing inside him. Both come at the same time. Richie turned his head, unable to speak. They moved together before Methos pulled out. Richie pulled him back in a hug.

"Why let you have all the fun." he said with a grin.

He wasn't sure what to do but started stroking past Methos' cock. This time it was the old man's turn to move back in pleasure as Methos got his turn of being pleased by his lover.

Methos' face was contorted in pleasure. Richie bent over before him as Methos larger hands rested on his hips, and a soft sheen of sweat covered them both.

Neither of them had noticed a thing, until the door was pulled open and Richie looked onto the angriest face he'd seen in years. A dark-haired man with a big scar over his right eye stood in front of them.

"God Dammit Methos." The stranger hissed. Even though the ancient was well aware of his scarred brother's presence he was at the point where tornadoes, nor bombs could stop him from the task at hand. "I have waited two thousand years to find you, and as the world comes tumbling down around your ears, you are fucking? Typical."

Series to be continued