Just Kidding
<center>Just Kidding</center>
by
Lady MoonHawke
Disclaimer: Not Mine. DM and M belong to Rysher-Davis/Panzer (Not that they
seem to know what to do with them. Sorry. Still bitter over Endgame) The
Greek Madmen (long may they reign) belong to Rhi (long may she reign).
Um..Yeah. Think that's about it. Oh. No money being made, yadda yadda.
Here we go.
Pounding on the door woke Methos in the pre-dawn darkness. Quietly cursing,
he sat up in bed, expression sour. Reaching for the old-fashioned alarm
clock, he chucked it into the corner once he read it. Six AM, an hour he
*never* visited from this side of sleep, was still a ways off.
The pounding was louder now, and Methos’ legendary sour mood was darkening.
“Unless you want to die, you should leave now,” he managed to yell.
“Very funny,” came the reply in MacLeod’s familiar voice. _Who else,_
Methos thought, _would show up this hour?_
“Xan’s gone missing,” MacLeod continued through the door.
“You woke me to tell me that?” Methos asked, turning on the TV on the way to
the door. Zebras were running past a lion behind some kind of SUV.
“Alex called, said he hadn’t heard from him in days,” Macleod said as Methos
opened the door.
“Bullies,” Methos muttered, pulling Mac into the hotel room. “Can’t you
recognize a joke, Highlander? Damn Greek Madmen set you up but good this
time,” the oldest Immortal chuckled.
“Excuse me?”
“Funny, really. Good for a laugh. Haven’t seen it for a while though,”
Methos mused.
“I don’t understand,” Duncan mumbled, head spinning.
“Jests, MacLeod, jokes; humerous stories designed to elict laughter. Kind
of an old concept,” Methos elucidated.
“Let me see if I’ve got this; he’s not missing?”
Methos laughed. “No, MacLeod, he’s just pulling your leg.”
“Oh....should we plan some revenge, in that case?” MacLeod asked, a twinkle
in his eyes.
Purring, Methos shut the door.
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