| Date: 27 December 2007
Characters: The Tenth Doctor, Methos Location: hotel dining room, a bar Link to IJ: thread #20148 |
 The Doctor slept for - well, actually, he didn't know how long - his sense of time had gone all wonky in this place - but it was a long time. When he woke, he felt as well as he'd been trying to convince Jack he was before. He checked the wardrobe again, just in case the TARDIS had decided to turn up (it hadn't), then wandered downstairs to see if he could find another cup of tea.
He walked into the dining room and looked around to see if there was anyone he knew. |
 Methos picked up another donut, looking up at the sound of someone walking into the room, raising an eyebrow at the change of clothes. The Doctor... there was something not entirely right here.
He walked over, expression shuttered as he watched the Doctor. "Looking for someone, Doctor?" |
| The Doctor beamed at him, sticking out a hand. "Hallo! Have we met?" |
| Methos accepted the hand, giving it a firm squeeze before letting go, still not sure what to make of this new development. "Apparently not. Adam Pierson." This was getting rather more surreal than he liked. Even if he was half-convinced he was in a Doctor Who episode. |
| "Nice to meet you, Adam Pierson. I'm the Doctor."
He gazed around and located the tea-making facilities. "I was just going to get some tea. Care to join me?" |
| "I prefer coffe, actually." Methos took another bite of his donut, wondering if he could actually get away with going to find beer this early. It had been the drink of choice for so many millenia, when water wasn't always safe to drink, and beer was easy to obtain. "I didn't expect to see you in leather and jeans." He gave the Doctor a once-over. "Doesn't suit you." |
| The Doctor quirked an eyebrow. That was a bit direct. But he just shrugged and headed for the tea, commenting over his shoulder, "This outfit is left over from my last body - I only just regenerated and I suppose it might have suited my last regeneration better."
Mind you, when he'd finally found a mirror, in the bathroom, he'd thought he looked mighty handsome, and very cool. "You reckon I can't carry off the leather, then?" |
| Methos shrugged. "Not like that." He wasn't exactly up to date on fashion, but he did appreciate seeing someone dressed well. That, and right now, the Doctor's outfit was reminding him a little uncomfortably much of Kronos during those weeks in Bordeux.
"If you want leather, try something longer. Coat, instead of jacket. And maybe trousers instead of the jeans." And that might suit the Doctor, without making Methos wish Ivanhoe was here, not in Bucharest. |
| "Well, maybe I'll have a look around - see if I can find a new look. Pity I haven't got my TARDIS. I normally pick an outfit from the wardrobe there when I regenerate."
He finished pouring his tea and wandered over to a nearby table. "How exactly do I know you?" he asked, a little bemused, as he sat down. |
| "I don't know if you do." Methos sat across from the Doctor, stretching out his legs, another donut in hand, and a mug of coffee in front of him. "I talked with you - or someone who looks like you and calls himself the Doctor - in the pub yesterday." He paused, watching the Doctor. "You didn't take well to being informed that as far as I'm concerned, you stepped out of my television." |
| "Well, no, I wouldn't," the Doctor said vaguely, looking at Methos as if he might be a little bit crazy.
"That probably was another me you met, then. Jack said there were several other versions of me around here." He grinned. "Hope I bump into one. Always fun talking to yourself!" |
| Methos gave the Doctor an inscrutable look for a long moment before shrugging. "Most of us never have that option."
And some of us never want that option, he thought to himself. There were several points in his life that he would like not to revisit. Not again, at any rate. |
| "Oh, when you travel in time it's practically a hazard of the job!"
The Doctor took a long slurp of tea, and sighed contentedly. This hotel really did make a good cup of tea. Just about made up for not having it in the bedrooms. He looked Methos up and down. "So, where did you spring from, then? Earth, was it?" |
| Methos nodded, taking a drink of coffee. "I was in Bucharest before I woke up here." He shrugged. "I travel a lot. Not as much as you, though I don't have access to a time-machine, so I don't suppose I could travel quite as much." Not that he hadn't found that idea interesting. Well, the traveling to other planets and to the future. Not as much the travel into the past. He rather liked to not meet himself - or certain other people - at any point in history. |
| The Doctor grinned. "I'd offer you a trip, but I seem to have mislaid my TARDIS in a wardrobe." His forehead creased a little. "So you just woke up here? That must have been a bit disconcerting. Always is when you wake up somewhere and can't remember how you got there!" |
| "Generally, I have an answer to that in about five minutes after I've woken up." Or rather, revived, as Alysse had a disturbing habit of shooting him when she decided it was time for another attempt to 'treat' his dislike of the water. "Apparently, this is more complicated than certain people being irritating." |
| "So you don't have any idea what's going on either, then?" the Doctor asked, peering at him over his tea-cup. "Not that I couldn't do with a bit of a rest, truth be told - had a bit of fun with the Daleks and it took a lot out of me - but I would have chosen somewhere a bit prettier. Maybe some beaches or something." |
| Methos grimaced at the mention of Daleks, remembering just how irritating the pepper-pot appearence of them had been. And how dangerous they'd been in the show. "I'd prefer the mountains for a rest, actually. Not as close to the ocean." |
| The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "Any particular reason why? Not that there's anything wrong with mountains." |
| Methos grimaced, squinting up at the ceiling a moment before replying. "Ever met an Immortal named Alysse?" He doubted the Doctor had, as Immortals had never featured in Doctor Who, not before it had been cancelled. He hadn't watched the new show that he'd heard was on, and perhaps they had introduced the concept by then. |
| The Doctor thought hard, running one hand through his hair to aid his concentration.
"Nope." |
| "She's a pirate." Methos took another swallow of his coffee. "I prefer not to spend weeks on a boat with no land in sight large enough to support an airstrip." |
| "That makes sense." He quirked an eyebrow. "Pirates are a normal part of your life, then?" |
| Methos snorted. "No. I prefer something quieter."
He preferred a life where he didn't have to worry about getting shot, or hanged, or spending months and years in a prison cell. Particularly the last, as they'd eventually ask why he wasn't aging. |
| "Ah. What do you do then?" |
| "I teach history at Oxford." Methos shrugged. He didn't add that he had been a Watcher, or that he's had various occupations over the millenia. |
| "Oh, a professor!" He beamed again. "And history! Now I feel really bad I can't take you for a trip in the TARDIS!" |
| "I'd pass on the opportunity, regardless." Methos shrugged. "I'd prefer not to relive it." Literally, he meant. Reliving parts of it while teaching didn't bother him too much. So long as he avoided certain eras and places of ancient history. |
| "Now, that's a very unusual attitude for a history teacher!" The Doctor leaned an elbow on the table and his chin on his hand, staring curiously. "Why wouldn't you want to visit some of the times you've read so much about?" |
| Methos held the Doctor's gaze a long moment, weighing his answer before closing his eyes, pulling up every century, every millenia, and just letting his age show in his gaze when he opened his eyes again. "I didn't say I read about them, Doctor. I said I didn't want to relive them." |
| The Doctor's eyes went wide, and his lips rounded in a silent whistle.
"Older than you look, eh?" He grinned. "There's a lot of that going around. What's your secret?" |
| Methos shrugged, letting go of the years, and once more just assuming the mask of Adam Pierson. "Immortal." He didn't want to elaborate too much, but he suspected the Doctor would have plenty of questions. |
| "Completely immortal? As in, forever and ever amen?" |
| "Unless someone cuts off my head." Methos grimaced. "Which I'd like to avoid. I'm rather attatched to it." |
| "Don't blame you - it's a very nice head."
Then the Doctor frowned. "You're not a vampire, are you?" |
| "No!" Methos gave the Doctor a disturbed and irritated look. "Vampires are a myth." If they weren't, he was fairly certain he'd have run into one or two in his five thousand years. Though he supposed it was a valid question, if one didn't know what Immortals were. He sighed, leaning his head back to look at the ceiling.
"Immortals are born with the ability to become Immortal already in them. They die a violent death, and they become Immortal. If they're lucky, they survive as long as I have." He looked back at the Doctor, irritation still in his expression. "We're no different from the rest of humanity in every other respect." |
| "I was joking! Well, sort of. Sorry."
The Doctor was fascinated. "So you die, and then you become immortal? Have you by any chance met a young man by the name of Jack around here?" |
| "No." Methos narrowed his eyes. "Why?" If there was another Immortal around here, he really wanted to find something other than a small paring knife. And he didn't want to run into that person. At all. |
| The Doctor shrugged.
"Well, I seriously doubt he's the same kind of immortal as you, since I saw it happen to him - sort of - well, not saw, but I was nearby and I'm fairly sure I know how it happened, but... it just sounded familiar." He smiled, and waved a hand. "The two of you might find you have a few things in common to talk about." |
| Methos raised a mental eyebrow at that, casually taking another sip of his coffee before speaking. "Different kind of immortal? I was fairly certain my kind was the only kind." Well, that really existed. Even if they could be killed, if only in the one manner. |
| "Well, you said you were also fairly certain that I was character from tv..." the Doctor drawled, with a wry grin.
"And Jack really can't die. Well, he dies, apparently, but he always comes back." |
| "From anything?" Methos gave the Doctor a dubious look, though he didn't have as much skeptism as he was projecting. Hard to disbelieve - or believe, actually - in anything after a long life. Cassandra had magic, Duncan had fought that demon... and he was sitting in a place that wasn't on Earth, talking to a pop-culture icon. It really wouldn't be much of a stretch for him to believe there was someone who couldn't die, at all. |
| "Apparently. Here till the end of time. He really has got forever and ever amen."
He picked up his cup and slurped some tea, then made a face because it had gone cold. "So what happens to you if you receive a normally fatal wound, Adam Pierson? Do you die and then come back, like Jack, or do you just... not?" |
| "I've woken up in a morgue," Methos responded obliquely. "That wasn't a particularly pleasent experience." |
| "Ah, same then," he nodded. "Wouldn't be surprised if Jack has too."
He shunted his chair back and got up, holding his cup. "Want a refill?" |
| "If you can find a decent beer." Methos shrugged. "Or another coffee." |
| The Doctor raised an eyebrow skyhigh. "Isn't it a bit early for beer?"
He looked around at the dining room. "Probably have more luck with that in the bar. If you want, we can...?" He jerked his head at the door. |
| Methos stood, shrugging. "Water hasn't been safe to drink for tremendously long, Doctor. Beer is far more familiar, even if the modern equivilent doesn't live up to the ancient brews." He headed for the door, not waiting for the Doctor to take the lead. |
| "Oh, I don't know, the odd pint of IPA doesn't go down badly," the Doctor babbled, following with just a tiny shrug. "And I am a time-traveller, you know. I do know these things. I just assumed you'd have acclimatised to the twentieth century by now - or was it the twenty-first?" |
| "Barely the twenty-first." Methos headed for the bar, slightly more relaxed in the surroundings. "Decent, perhaps, but yeasts change, plants evolve, brewing methods change."
He ordered a lager, sitting on one of the bar-stools. "I can change many things, but certain tastes..." He shook his head. "I won't." Five millenia of habitual beer drinking wasn't going to change in one measley century, anyway. |
| "I meant the drinking alcohol first thing, actually, not the type of beer," the Doctor said mildly, and ordered another cup of tea.
"But yeah. There have definitely been better days for beer." |
| "So did I." Methos took a long swallow of the brew, leaning back on his seat a little. "I've had a long time to get used to drinking it." |
| The Doctor perched a hip on a stool and leaned forward with one elbow on the bar, eyes narrowed with interest. "Just how old are you, if you don't mind my asking? Which you probably do," he realised hurriedly, "but I'm rude like that." |
| "I don't actually know." Methos watched the Doctor for a moment as he took another drink. "My first memories are hazy. I took my first Quickening - killed another Immortal - five thousand years ago. Give or take a century." |
| "Oooh, five thousand - that's a good innings!" The Doctor was impressed. "My, my. You must have seen a lot! Makes me feel like a positive youngster with my - oh, go on, you said you watched me on telly - impress me with your fan knowledge - how old am I?"
His grin was ingenuous, and extremely cheeky. |
| "Somewhere in the vicinity of your first millenia." Methos shrugged. "Didn't keep track, and you're at least a regeneration after I stopped watching." |
| "Hey, not bad! 901, give or take a year or two - always hard to keep track when you're flitting here, there and everywhere through time - well, unless you're a Time Lord, of course - it's easier then, but still hard to be completely accurate... You know, I don't think I actually need any more tea, do I? Barman, make mine a pint instead!" |
| "You certainly haven't lost the ability to chatter," Methos muttered. He watched the Doctor over his pint. |
| The Doctor grinned, with a complete lack of shame. "Part of my unique charm!" he declared, raising his pint in a silent toast before downing a fair portion of it in one go. He smacked his lips. "Ahhh! Hits the spot!" |
| A smirk touched Methos's face. "Decent enough," he allowed, amusement in his expression, before finishing his pint off. "Who else have you run into here?" he asked, abruptly changing the subject. He'd asked the last Doctor he'd run into, but it wouldn't hurt to find out if this one had any more idea who was here than the other. |
| "Just Jack, so far," the Doctor shrugged. "Only got here last night. And then I had to... rest a bit. Regeneration rather took it out of me. Right as rain now though! But yeah, only Jack. Though he told me there were - let me see - a couple of him and a couple of Roses running about too. Rose is a young girl who's travelling with me a the moment," he clarified. |
| "Your current companion." Methos ordered another pint from the bartender before adding, "Jack was the one you said was another kind of immortal?" |
| "Oh, sorry, forgot you knew the terminology. Not often I meet people who do! And yeah, Jack's the other immortal. You really ought to look him up. You might be able to help him feel better about living forever. He seemed rather bitter about it last night - not that I blame him, of course. Must be hard." |
| "I can die, I just prefer not to." Methos shrugged. "And I can effect my ability to die. I thought you said he couldn't die. Ever." |
| "I did. But maybe if you were to tell him you'd got through 5,000 years and still prefer not to die... it might help, y'know?" |
| Methos shrugged. "If I run into him, I'll think about it." |
| "Thanks." The Doctor drained his pint and gestured to the barman for another one. What the hell. You were only young(ish) once.
"So, have you run into anyone interesting here?" he asked, sipping. "Apart from myself, that is?" |
| "There was a young man named Lane when I first came out of my hotel room, but other than that, I've only really run into the kitchen staff." And they were... strange, and not alive, for all that Methos could tell. "I may see if there's anyone else to run into later." Maybe. Provided he could avoid the Master, or anyone who might be Immortal, instead of merely immortal. |
| "Hmm, so we're both still pretty new here," the Doctor mused, and took a long draught of beer while he thought about that.
"I should say, then, that the next step would be to get out of the bar and actually explore. Go and see what else there is to see in this place! Don't you think?" |
| Methos shrugged. "I would like to get back to Bucharest, actually. It was quiet there." At least, in terms of other Immortals. And lack, blessed lack, of Alysse. |
| "Well..." The Doctor absently dug a finger in his ear, as if it would help him think. "I should still say that exploring and trying to find someone who knows how to get back is the best bet. I doubt we're likely to just pop back where we were without making it happen. That's not usually the way these things work. Not that there's anything particularly usual about this, but - "
He grinned. "Anyway, I'm feeling too energetic now to just sit here all day!" He drained his second pint, put the glass down firmly on the bar, and stood up decisively. "You can come with me or not, up to you, but I want to find out more about this place!" |