It was surprisingly easy to give up everything. He felt a tiny twinge of regret when he wrote the letter to Joe, but as for the rest... he hadn't seen MacLeod in years, and he was the only one that mattered of the lot of them.

Adam Pierson had developed quite the reputation in certain academic circles owing to his "talent" for picking up ancient languages. Apparently he'd even caught the attention of the military. Not that it had said that in the letter, of course. But what other kind of translating position would require full security clearance?

That had been pretty hard to wing, but Methos was nothing if not resourceful.

So here he was, holed up in Cheyenne mountain with a brand new job translating from... not just ancient Earth languages, but the Ancient language. The amount the military had found out about human history was rather alarming.

You wouldn't think you could forget centuries (millenia? he wasn't sure) of occupation by space aliens, but there you go.

He was pretty certain he'd been able to shake his Watcher(s), too.

All in all, life at SGC (he thought he knew what that stood for, but he didn't have clearance yet) was looking good.

"Did you hear that Daniel Jackson died again?"

Methos froze.

"No! Really? What is this, the sixth time?"

"It must be! He's back now, of course."

Methos felt himself break out in a cold sweat. He'd hacked the Watcher database before leaving. There were supposed to be no other Immortals in Cheyenne Mountain.

That had to mean that Daniel Jackson had become immortal since being involved in the program. Which meant that the military knew about immortals. In fact, by the sounds of it, the entire base knew.

Which meant he had to get the hell out of this place, as soon as possible.

Preferably before his meeting with the illustrious Dr. Jackson this afternoon.

Adam Pierson frowned at the Ancient text in front of him. But... Atlantis. There had been persistent rumours in academic circles that the military had found the ancient (sorry, Ancient) city, and now, through careful listening, he knew they were true.

Maybe if he proved his worth with Ancient translations he could get transferred to Atlantis...

So. A dilemma.

Methos v. Adam Pierson. Fight!

He needed a beer.

--

Methos was of the opinion that a good, strong beer could solve any number of problems. The beers at SGC were neither, so he wasn't ever to know if it could solve this one.

A horrible thought occurred to him. If Daniel Jackson was Immortal, but didn't know what it meant, did that mean that Methos had to teach him? He shuddered. Oh, no, he wasn't Duncan MacLeod. Let the good doctor live in ignorance, he didn't care one bit.

"You don't look very impressed," said the barkeeper.

Methos twirled his glass and thought quickly. "I think I've spent too long overseas," he said, as if confessing a horrible sin. "This American beer just doesn't do it for me any more."

The other man smiled. "What would you recommend I get in? I'll see what I can do."

Methos was all set to launch into a comprehensive list of beer worthy of the consumption of the oldest Immortal, but he was cut short by an impatient beeping at his wrist.

Adam Pierson looked at his watch, and swallowed hurriedly. "Um, sorry, another time. I have another engagement."

"You look like a man who has an appointment with his boss."

Adam Pierson smiled nervously. "I finally get to meet the famous Dr. Daniel Jackson."

It couldn't be so bad, right? If his suspicions were correct, the man probably wouldn't even recognise the significance of the buzz, and even if he did, he would hardly insist on a battle in the middle of SGC... right?

Leaving his sword behind felt like a phenomenally stupid idea, but he couldn't see any alternative. And skipping the meeting would be a sure way to gain just the kind of attention he did not want.

You just want to find out more about Atlantis, Methos told Adam Pierson crossly.

He knocked cautiously on Daniel Jackson's door, and entered when called.

"Adam Pierson, right? I've read some of your work. It's very impressive."

Daniel Jackson wasn't really the kind of preoccupied linguist he'd expected from hearing other people talk about the man. He supposed 10 years with the military would do that to a man.

He also wasn't immortal.

Methos swallowed, and choked out a reply worth of Adam Pierson. "Uh... yes. Thank you. Sir."

He felt phenomenally stupid.