Chapter Text
An insistent knock on his door woke Methos from his sleep. The knock echoed painfully in his skull. Immortal constitution might mean he couldn't get hung over but it did nothing to help an alcohol-induced dehydration headache. He pulled his pillow over his head.
The knocking persisted. It was the most precise, almost prissy, knock Methos had ever heard.
I thought Mac was still in France?
He threw back the covers and got out of bed, the drum-like throbbing in his head starting to feel like a gong. The clock on his bedside table read "8:32 am".
On a fucking Saturday!
Methos angrily undid the locks on his door and whipped it open.
"WHAT?" he screamed at the people on his front doorstep
The early risers were a little black boy in a beige linen suit and a red bow tie with white polka dots, and a middle aged woman in a poorly fitting floral dress. They were holding copies of The Watchtower.
Bloody hell!
"Good morning, sir! We were wondering if you had the time on this beautiful morning to talk about the Good Lord?" the little boy said, a bright, wide smile on his face. The boy's entire bearing radiated the malicious good cheer and helpfulness of someone who does not have a hangover harassing someone they think does. Methos would have appreciated his mischievousness more if it weren't directed at him.
The woman was standing there, panting slightly and trying to catch her breath. Methos noted that her face was flushed and her pupils were dilated. He wondered if she was about to have a heart attack when he realized he was standing in the doorway in nothing but his red heart boxer shorts, his hair in rumpled disarray. He instinctually flexed his muscles and slouched against the doorframe in a seductive manner that had never failed him before.
It didn't fail him now. The woman's face grew even redder as her eyes darted all over the porch, desperately trying not to look anywhere near Methos.
You woke me up, woman. Now you have to pay the price.
"Now Alec, dear, I think we woke this poor man up. We should probably let him get back to bed. It is awfully early." She said, clutching her pamphlets hard enough to crumple them.
Alec looked back over his shoulder at her and said, "But I thought there was always time to talk about the Lord and His Works?" He turned back to Methos and asked, "Don't you think so, sir?" Alec's tone was disingenuous and his eyes sparkled with humor.
Methos decided he liked this kid.
"You know? You're absolutely right! It's about time I gave my immortal soul the consideration it deserves. Please come in! I'll make us some coffee. Do you drink coffee, young man?" Methos stepped back and waved the two of them into his house. As the woman passed, he gently ran his hand down her back, making her shiver.
Don't worry, madam, in the unlikely event I do give you a heart attack, I am a doctor.
"I'm Adam. Why don't you two sit at the table here and I'll get us some breakfast. So what good news do you have for me today?"