Chapter 30

"God, I'm tired!" Methos sighed, sitting down and collapsing back on his bed.

O'Neill stuck his head in the door smiling. "But it's a good kind of tired. Isn't it, soldier?"

Methos groaned. Jack would have to pick the room next door! Not satisfied with just ditching his Horseman image, Methos had moved into the concubines' quarters. They were small, but nice. Homey, without being ostentatious. Everyone else had seemed to agree - moving in right alongside him. Now, he lived in a dormitory.

"But two hundred pounds of lead!" Methos complained. "Where the hell are we going to get two hundred pounds?! And mercury? That stuff doesn't grow on trees out here. We can't just pop down to the local apothecary and put in an order!"

Carter was out of her mind, he thought. They'd traipsed across the entire area for most of the day, lugging back bushels of rock and baskets of sand for her to examine. Now, she wanted them to start digging.

Daniel chose just that moment to walk by on his way to the bath down the hall. "Why can't we go to the local apothecary?"

Methos raised his head to stare for a moment then let it fall back with a sigh. "Do you really think an apothecary in this day and age would be in possession of ten pounds of mercury?"

"Maybe not one apothecary," Daniel agreed. "But several together might have enough. It was used in tinctures and-"

"I know what it's used for," Methos rolled his eyes and sat up on his elbows. "And yes, we could give it a try," he acknowledged. "Even if we don't succeed in getting all of it, we can probably get enough to make a couple of good thermometers. And once we build a proper kiln we can smelt the stuff out of the rock as we smelt for lead."

"That's the spirit, kids," O'Neill smiled proudly. "See what you can accomplish when you work together?"

Methos grimaced. He really didn't want to go into town at the moment. Too many uncomfortable memories there. On the other hand, this might be his opportunity to get out of the clay and sand hauling project O'Neill had planned for the morning. It was to be a real kiln this time, made of fired concrete bricks and mortar. "All right," Methos sighed tiredly. "With your permission, Colonel, Daniel and I will go into Zakoros in the morning."

"When we're done with the kiln," O'Neill told him, grinning. "Good try, though, Pierson. Nice. Polite. Said all the right words with just the right amount of reluctance. But you're making bricks with the rest of us and there's no getting out of it."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Methos told him airily, though he could see Daniel trying not to laugh.

Was he becoming that transparent?! Methos fell back, staring at the ceiling in dismay. And when he got back, would the Highlander now see through his every machination? Good god! Now there was a frightening concept.


The day was too warm for the fall, Daniel thought as unrelieved shimmering waves of heat beat off the hard packed dirt of the road ahead. He glanced at the man walking beside him, his old friend, college buddy, sometimes study partner and now team mate. Methos, the ten thousand year old Immortal. Who strolled along humming under his breath. An old tune by The Police, of all things. 'Every little thing she does is magic...'

Wow, he thought for the thousandth time. Or, big fucking wow as Jack would say. Daniel looked back at the road, listening to the creak of the cart and the soft fall of the donkey's hooves plodding behind them. Now, here he was, off on a shopping expedition three thousand years in the past with a man who'd lived it

And what an anomaly that man was. So much of Adam in there - probably a lot more than Methos would ever admit to. The same dry wit, piercing intelligence and a quiet, almost humble perspective on life. Someone who saw the big picture and his own small place within the whole. Acceptance on a grand scale with a vision to match. But not too grand to keep him from seeing all the little pictures. The snapshots that made up the lives of the mortals who surrounded him.

The idea was almost mind boggling, Daniel thought. And if Methos ever wondered why he'd never sat down with his notebook and tried to plumb every scrap of knowledge he could from his old friend the answer was simple. He didn't even know where to start. Still, there was one thing which had been bothering him. A question he'd been meaning to ask since he'd first selfishly roped shy, retiring Adam Pierson into the magnificent nightmare that was the SGC.

"Uh, Adam," he started, swallowing against the dust that clung to his lips. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something." The Immortal looked up, seemingly startled out of whatever pleasant reverie he'd been having. "Are you okay with all of this? Not," he gave a lopsided grin, shrugging at their surroundings, "just this. But the whole SGC thing?"

Methos' eyes narrowed in confusion then he smiled wryly and gave a little half nod, half shrug before he spoke. "I admit I was pretty pissed at first. At the time my life was..." he sighed ruefully. "Evenly balanced, I suppose you could say. Just enough danger to keep me on my toes, a few good friends to hang out with - the boredom mostly kept at bay while I just sort of cruised along. Getting dumped on your ass into the middle of a war zone is always a shocker, but," he smiled. "All in all, I guess I'm okay with it. If I weren't, I would have been long since gone."

Daniel nodded thoughtfully. "Okay. 'Cause I was worried, you know? Just... Well... Because it's my fault you're in this mess. And I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Methos told him gently. "We're all in this mess, Danny. And not just us, but the whole world - even if they don't know it yet. You know," he went on, returning admission with admission and kindness for kindness. "For most of my life I've run from things - especially involvement in anything that smacked of The Greater Good. Even when I was involved, it wasn't really me. Just whoever I happened to be as the moment required it. If David Benjamin was a clerk at a law office in London working toward the bar and everyone around him was mobilizing to fight the Hun, he enlisted and became a clerk in the war office working toward the same goal as they were."

"And now?" Daniel asked quietly.

Methos gave a self-deprecating snort of laughter. "Now, I'm walking down a road I've walked a thousand times before, except this time it's me on the journey. Not the Horseman, or the nameless traveler, or even Adam Pierson playing Methos, ancient Immortal on a mission to thwart the Goa'uld from destroying his planet. It's just... Me."

"And you have no defense against that," Daniel observed.

"None," Methos whispered softly, looking slightly shocked by the perceptiveness of Daniel's comment.

"Well, you're not alone," he told him gently. "That's how it is for most of us. No masks. Just us."

"True," Methos smiled sadly. "But that doesn't make the experience any less unnerving for us novices."

The road ahead curved around a large stand of trees and on the other side, laid out below, was the city of Zakoros. Not a village this time, but a real city. Even now on Crete the standard of living was fairly high, though on the mainland, rich and poor alike might live in one or two room houses. Here, at least within the cities, even the poor often had five or six rooms subdivided by pier and door partitions and split between two floors. And while Zakoros was not the largest port on the island, it was still the most strategically located at the southeastern edge of the island and home to many traders and merchants interested in goods from Egypt, Africa and Arabia.

Dirt paths changed to wide cobblestone streets lined with two and three story buildings painted in bright shades of red, blue or yellow and every shade in between as they made their way into the city. It was mid-morning and the shops were open, men and women going about their business as children ran and played in the streets.

As they reached the merchant quarter Methos nodded toward the west. "The apothecary shops are just off Divination Street to the left of Whistling Alley. You can't miss it. There's a big bronze statue of the Goddess at the corner."

"You're not coming with me?" Daniel asked surprised.

"This was your idea," Methos told him. "Besides, I've got to get some stuff."

"Like what?"

Methos gave him an assessing stare then suddenly smiled. "Are you hungry?" he asked abruptly.

Daniel shrugged. "There's food in the pack if-"

"Oh, not for that," Methos interrupted. "See the blue door over there," he whispered, discreetly pointing to their right. "Behind that door are the most glorious sausages ever made. And beer. Good enough to stand a spoon in."

"You know I don't really like beer," Daniel reminded him.

"Yes, and I've always thought less of you for it," Methos commented. "But failings aside, you're my friend, so I thought I'd invite you along. Anyway, they do have wine - for those poor souls among us who can't stand up to the beer."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Daniel grimaced. "Besides, Jack will kill us if we come back drunk."

Methos rolled his eyes. "Okay. One beer, or cup of wine," he allowed. "But as many sausages as we can stomach. And we'll bring back plenty for the others."

Daniel considered for a moment. "If you forget the beer and get the sausages to go, I'm in."

"But it comes with!" Methos complained. "It'd be an insult not to have it."

"Then get it to go, too," Daniel said, annoyed. "Look, you might enjoy being Jack's minion now, but you'll hate it when he demotes you to worthless lackey if he finds out you were drinking on duty."

"It's just beer," Methos muttered angrily.

Daniel sighed and shook his head. "Trust me on this, Adam. You don't know Jack as well as I do. If you don't have any now, but bring it back for everyone to share later, he'll look the other way when you want a pint with lunch every day. Break the regs first and he'll ride you to hell and back for doing it."

Yeah. That sounded about right, Methos thought, frowning in disgust. O'Neill was quirky that way. In Jack's book, trust was a two way street. If he trusted the colonel to be fair, he'd be trusted to drink appropriately later. O'Neill wouldn't feel as if he'd done something behind his back. Strange how in the last two modern wars he'd served in the exact opposite had been true. A man was trusted to know when to drink and that he would do so in moderation. A sort of gentleman's agreement that was the rule of the day. Now, one had to earn the right to be trusted.

"Okay, we'll get it all to go, but you're still on your own for the mercury," he said as Daniel smiled gratefully. "While I," Methos grimaced. "Will very soberly be buying livestock and poultry. God, I hate this job!"


"What's that?" Methos asked as a pair of slaves loaded several large amphorae into the back of the wagon.

"A surprise," Daniel grinned, turning back to bow deeply to the ancient apothecary, who handed him a small glass jar along with a bundle of wrapped leather. "And enough mercury to get us started."

Methos raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. The old man, who looked to be of Egyptian descent, seemed happy enough with his customer and whatever purchases he'd made. He nodded to Methos and went back inside followed by his slaves.

"Looks like you did okay, too," Daniel commented, noting the cages of chickens, geese, doves and turtles already in the cart, while behind, four goats, a ram, three pigs and a milk cow were tied to the back.

"Yeah. And if anybody gives me any lip about the big steak dinner I'm planning for the night before we leave, there'll be no joy in Mudville for anyone. At least until we get back and I take Teal'c to dinner at O'Malley's."

"No lip from me," Daniel grinned as he tucked the smaller purchases into his pack. "But you might want to rethink O'Malley's. Stetson's off the parkway serves Black Angus on free beer night."

Methos gave him a sour smile. "Yes, but then you three would show up and stick me with the check."

"What else are friends for?" Daniel joked as they led the cart toward the northwest road.

"That's what I said to MacLeod," Methos grinned amiably. "Then I very kindly explained the ancient tradition of the household leech and what an honor it was to have me as his."

Daniel laughed. In Greek and Roman times anyone who showed up right before a meal was always invited to partake with the family. And the wealthier one was the more friends one had conveniently dropping in with a bit of news or gossip to ease their way. And it was indeed considered an honor.

"I'll bet that went over well," he grinned, having met the thrifty Highlander.

"Like a lead balloon given MacLeod's disdain for anything that came before Columbus discovered America."

"I never got that," Daniel admitted. "People who don't want to know anything about history. If you don't know where you've been..."

"How can you possibly know where you're going," Methos finished with a wry smile as they shared the old joke.

They went on chatting about everything and nothing as they left Zakoros, reaching the villa a few hours later just as the sun was beginning to set. O'Neill and the others met them as they came up the path.

"I thought you were going to get supplies to replace the stuff we'll be using?" O'Neill asked tersely, staring in dismay at the animals.

"Why bother?" Methos asked with a shrug. "I handled all the household accounts. I'll just tickle the books a bit before we go and I'll never know I was here."

"That makes some kind of sense," O'Neill's brow creased with confusion. "Just don't ask me what."

Methos grinned as they joined the others in unloading the supplies. Carter was pleased with the amount of mercury Daniel had purchased as well as the few medicinal herbs he'd managed to find.

"So, what's in the jars?" she asked as O'Neill swung the first one down and handed it off to Teal'c.

"Just some coffee beans," Daniel said casually. "I sort of ran into the local Juan Valdez."

The others went stock still as he rambled on.

"You know, coffee originally came from Arabia," he went on, ignoring their expressions. "Neftu, the apothecary, he says his father bought a cart load from some Phoenician traders who kept it for ballast. His dad used it to make poultices and he still uses it in most of his medicinal teas. I guess as a source of caffeine - which does have some well known therapeutic qualities, but-"

"Coffee!" O'Neill finally blurted, not having heard another word Daniel had said after the magic one. "You got us COFFEE!"

"That's what the man said," Methos whispered. "And I went and bought a bloody milk cow. We can actually have cream in our coffee."

"And butter," Carter sighed. "With real homemade bread."

"Teal'c," Jack ordered. "You handle that funny looking jug with care."

"Yes, Colonel O'Neill. I too have developed a certain fondness for this particular beverage."

Methos suddenly frowned. "Makes what I got seem small by comparison." The others looked to him with questioning glances. "Just the world's best sausages and beer. I also stopped by my favorite sweet shop. They make the most marvelous little pastries."

"Beer and sausages for dinner, followed by coffee and cake." O'Neill sighed expansively, putting an arm around each man's shoulders. "Sometimes, campers, it's good to be alive!"

"Even if it's in the wrong century?" Daniel asked, grinning widely.

"Well," O'Neill responded as he released them and gently lifted out another coffee filled amphorae. "As my old man used to say. 'Sometimes, son, y' can't have everything - but it sure as hell beats havin' squat!'"

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