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marblegloveWhen I wrote A Square Peg in a Round Hole, I had a whole set of ideas for how to get Methos in contact with the SGC crew. At request, I’m posting what ideas I had at the time that I didn’t go forward with. Of them all, this was the closest second. I almost went with it a number of times and it wound up being more random chance than any particular reason that I went with Square Peg instead. .
The second of three Methos/Stargate plot-bunnies:
The bar was closed to the public but full of Watchers. They were all trading stories and just generally debreifing each other as they did every couple of weeks. When you had a secret life it was important to find some time to speak freely.
When teh phone rang, Joe Dawson, bar owner and area supervisor, delegated the task of answering it to one of his subordinates both in watcher training and in bar tending. He didn’t even think much of it until the young watcher put his hand over the mouthpiece and called out, “Guys? It’s someone calling for Methos.”
Dead silence.
Joe gave an agonized look at Adam Pierson whom he alone, of all the watchers, knew to be both immortal and that most elusive of the immortals, Methos. But everyone was looking around, confused and worried. Was Methos here? Did someone know they were watchers? Were they in danger? What should they do?
Finally Adam stood up. “Unless someone here is going to admit to being immortal, being my immortal...?” He paused and looked at each person in turn, studying them for some sign. “I’m going to answer and see what I can learn.”
There were nods of comprehension and approval and a few mouthed “good idea”s but everyone sat silent as he took the phone. “Yes?”
The Watchers watched and listened, straining to hear every word.
----------------
The Watchers milled around the bar quietly unhappy. The fact that Adam Pierson was fluent in multiple otherwise-dead languages had never before been so frustrating. Only two watchers, who had had previous assignments in Egypt, stayed still and focused near the bar, trying to understand a language that was like and yet unlike that which they knew.
But everyone perked up again when ADam spoek loudly in English. “If you harm him in any way before I get there I will personally skin you alive with a red hot spoon!”
The Watchers were pretty evenly split between looking appalled at the normally mild and gentle researcher’s threat and looking greatly impressed by it.
The phone back in its cradle, Adam slumped on a stool with his head in his hands. One of the more impatient of the Watchers finally said, “Well?”
Adam’s eyes were tired and his smile weak. “False alarm as far as Methos goes. A contact of mine wanted to get through to me without giving away my name. He doesn’t know who or what Methos is, just that its a word I keep track of, that I would respond to. He’s been arrested by the US military and is slated for execution.”
“I’m sorry, Adam.”
“Harsh.”
“But due process!”
“Who was your contact?”
“Why does a researcher have a contact?”
The responses came more or less at the same time, but the last one had a few of them puzzled. Active watchers might have “contacts” to get them past security checkpoints or into places they couldn’t get on their own but researchers stayed in libraries, right? Occasionally traveled to see the sights but not following dangerous individuals.
“Black market antique rings and tomb raiders. Smuggling weapons on the side. Occasional forgery.”
Adam rubbed his eyes again and they all remembered that it was late at night (or early in the morning, as the case may be) and they'd all been drinking. “The military was almost certainly monitoring that line so the security of this bar has been compromised. I’m sorry, Joe.”
“Don’t worry. It’s not the first time I’ve been investigated and I doubt it’ll be the last.”
“Be careful. That goes for all of you. Something screwy is going on. He had some of the best security I’ve seen but they caught him anyway. And they were just waiting to shoot.”
“Uh-huh,” Joe agreed warily. “And what about you?”
“The name Methos is used in a mysterious situation... I’ll investigate it, of course,” Adam spoke in mock surprise.
“You said it had nothing to do with Methos.”
“Yeah. But it does have to do with my friends and its still a mysterious situation.”
----------------
The SGC agents looked up from Daniels translation of what their most recent prisoner had said on the phone before they had managed to subdue him.
“Seriously?”
“That’s the translation.” Daniel shrugged with some bemusement of his own. “That’s what was said.”
“He is a goa’uld, isn’t he?” Jack asked.
It was a serious question. Sure, their prisoner had the goa’uld voice and the flashing eyes, but still… “the host called his dad?”
-------------------
The plot is that Methos had a son some two or three thousand years ago. He did not want him to die. And he was friends with a goa’uld. So for the last couple of thousand of years Methos has had a friend and a son who are immortal but not part of The Game. He loves having an immortal family and now someone is threatening that.
The second of three Methos/Stargate plot-bunnies:
The bar was closed to the public but full of Watchers. They were all trading stories and just generally debreifing each other as they did every couple of weeks. When you had a secret life it was important to find some time to speak freely.
When teh phone rang, Joe Dawson, bar owner and area supervisor, delegated the task of answering it to one of his subordinates both in watcher training and in bar tending. He didn’t even think much of it until the young watcher put his hand over the mouthpiece and called out, “Guys? It’s someone calling for Methos.”
Dead silence.
Joe gave an agonized look at Adam Pierson whom he alone, of all the watchers, knew to be both immortal and that most elusive of the immortals, Methos. But everyone was looking around, confused and worried. Was Methos here? Did someone know they were watchers? Were they in danger? What should they do?
Finally Adam stood up. “Unless someone here is going to admit to being immortal, being my immortal...?” He paused and looked at each person in turn, studying them for some sign. “I’m going to answer and see what I can learn.”
There were nods of comprehension and approval and a few mouthed “good idea”s but everyone sat silent as he took the phone. “Yes?”
The Watchers watched and listened, straining to hear every word.
----------------
The Watchers milled around the bar quietly unhappy. The fact that Adam Pierson was fluent in multiple otherwise-dead languages had never before been so frustrating. Only two watchers, who had had previous assignments in Egypt, stayed still and focused near the bar, trying to understand a language that was like and yet unlike that which they knew.
But everyone perked up again when ADam spoek loudly in English. “If you harm him in any way before I get there I will personally skin you alive with a red hot spoon!”
The Watchers were pretty evenly split between looking appalled at the normally mild and gentle researcher’s threat and looking greatly impressed by it.
The phone back in its cradle, Adam slumped on a stool with his head in his hands. One of the more impatient of the Watchers finally said, “Well?”
Adam’s eyes were tired and his smile weak. “False alarm as far as Methos goes. A contact of mine wanted to get through to me without giving away my name. He doesn’t know who or what Methos is, just that its a word I keep track of, that I would respond to. He’s been arrested by the US military and is slated for execution.”
“I’m sorry, Adam.”
“Harsh.”
“But due process!”
“Who was your contact?”
“Why does a researcher have a contact?”
The responses came more or less at the same time, but the last one had a few of them puzzled. Active watchers might have “contacts” to get them past security checkpoints or into places they couldn’t get on their own but researchers stayed in libraries, right? Occasionally traveled to see the sights but not following dangerous individuals.
“Black market antique rings and tomb raiders. Smuggling weapons on the side. Occasional forgery.”
Adam rubbed his eyes again and they all remembered that it was late at night (or early in the morning, as the case may be) and they'd all been drinking. “The military was almost certainly monitoring that line so the security of this bar has been compromised. I’m sorry, Joe.”
“Don’t worry. It’s not the first time I’ve been investigated and I doubt it’ll be the last.”
“Be careful. That goes for all of you. Something screwy is going on. He had some of the best security I’ve seen but they caught him anyway. And they were just waiting to shoot.”
“Uh-huh,” Joe agreed warily. “And what about you?”
“The name Methos is used in a mysterious situation... I’ll investigate it, of course,” Adam spoke in mock surprise.
“You said it had nothing to do with Methos.”
“Yeah. But it does have to do with my friends and its still a mysterious situation.”
----------------
The SGC agents looked up from Daniels translation of what their most recent prisoner had said on the phone before they had managed to subdue him.
“Seriously?”
“That’s the translation.” Daniel shrugged with some bemusement of his own. “That’s what was said.”
“He is a goa’uld, isn’t he?” Jack asked.
It was a serious question. Sure, their prisoner had the goa’uld voice and the flashing eyes, but still… “the host called his dad?”
-------------------
The plot is that Methos had a son some two or three thousand years ago. He did not want him to die. And he was friends with a goa’uld. So for the last couple of thousand of years Methos has had a friend and a son who are immortal but not part of The Game. He loves having an immortal family and now someone is threatening that.
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Re: Oh I do wish you would write this one
Date: 2010-03-05 03:30 am (UTC)I do maintain that the family was the one who started the rumours about Hoover wearing women´s clothes!
the safe one would be a very good trick for them to pull of