"So what haven't you told them, Methos?" MacLeod asked as they stood outside the entrance to the SGC compound. They were waiting for a car to take Mac back to his hotel and this was as good a chance as any for them to talk in private.
Methos didn't even bother to hide his smile. "How Inanna managed to kill Tok'ra."
"Which was?"
"They exchanged tokens before they parted. Her own necklace blew his head off."
MacLeod flinched at the thought. "Good call. But," Duncan sighed. "I've never heard of a Quickening being that detailed. Let alone of something as odd as a partial Quickening. Images, yes. Even words sometimes. "
"Well, that's the other thing I didn't mention. I now have all of Tok'ra inside." MacLeod brows rose in disbelief, but the big Scot nodded for him to go on and Methos sighed. "I was mortal and acting as his aide. Tok'ra usually kept me close. Except for that time, when he went in alone. Of course, I was waiting there to meet him after the battle. Inanna's ships came in low as if to land and started firing. Like I said, I was killed in the very first strike." Methos shrugged and looked away. "I'm not sure how long it took for me to revive, but almost as soon as I did his Quickening hit me. You can imagine what that was like. The next thing I knew the entire world seemed to be falling in on me. I think the magnitude of that Quickening, even split as it was, shook the planet. When I woke up - I think an earthquake must have moved the rock - I didn't know who I was, or where I came from. Just the name had stuck. When I touched the tablets the rest of Tok'ra pretty much dashed inside and some of those memories came back. Don't ask me to explain it, Mac. That's just the way it was."
"So, these Ancients were Immortals?"
Again Methos shrugged. "More like super Immortals if you ask me. Or maybe, Immortals who grew old without the Game and learned to use their Quickenings for something other than a light show. I can't honestly say, Mac. I really don't know. "
MacLeod shook his head and sighed as the car finally pulled up. "It's certainly given me something to think about."
"You're not alone."
MacLeod smiled. "By the way," he said as he began to climb inside. "Tell your friend O'Neill he needs to ease up on that trigger happy finger of his."
"Jack? Why? What happened?"
"I don't know how or why you've conned him into thinking you're god's gift to this green earth, but next time you send for me, make sure the cavalry knows I'm on your side."
"He threatened you?"
MacLeod nodded. "Big time."
As the car pulled away Methos stared after it, thoughtfully considering the possibilities. He'd planned to go it alone, or to at least try. But if he could count on O'Neill to back him up... With a smile of pure pleasure he turned on his heel and headed back inside.
Methos knocked on the door of Jack's real office, entering as he was invited.
"MacLeod gone off to rally the Immortal masses?"
"What he can of them. I wouldn't hold my breath, if I were you. Immortals don't tend to congregate in groups."
"What, no reunions? No weddings? Nada?"
Methos shrugged. "Reunions tend to be held at the point of a sword. Weddings now, those occasionally do occur." Methos looked thoughtful for a moment then deliberately changed the subject. "Jacob gone?"
Jack took the hint and nodded. "Yeah. Selmak wasn't happy, but she agreed to say nothing about what you told us."
Methos nodded and sauntered into the room to take a seat on the big leather couch across from O'Neill's desk. Now this was an office, he thought, complete with TV, mini bar and microwave oven. Homey right down to the pictures of family and friends littering the credenza and the hockey memorabilia on the walls. For a long time Methos just sat absorbing the ambiance of the room, until Jack finally stood up and took a seat on the other end of the couch.
"All right, Pierson, give. Something's on your mind. What is it?"
Methos snorted. "There's always something on my mind. Right now I'm considering the possibilities."
"Which are?"
He leaned back and crossed his arms. "Alone or with company."
"Company, of course. Now, where are we going and what do I need?"
Methos smiled. "Just your passport."
"And why would I need a passport?"
"Because one generally requires one to get through customs."
"I don't." Methos raised an eyebrow and Jack smiled. "I've got the plane, you've got the plan, let's go."
"Just like that?"
"Yeah, come on. Just let me make a couple of calls and we're out of here."
"Just like that?" Methos repeated.
"Just like what?" O'Neill asked, obviously amused.
"Aren't you going to ask me where we're going and why?"
"You'll tell me when you're ready."
"Isn't that rather trusting of you?"
"That's the point," he grinned and went back to his desk.
With a shake of his head, because he wouldn't trust himself if he were him, Methos waited while Jack notified Hammond they would be off base, called the hangar to requisition his personal plane and dashed out a quick set of orders. In moments they were gone and on their way.
Go to next part.