The Seacouver Night Club

[Immortal Methos]

"I decided to fight?" Methos sputtered, glancing at Duncan for some sort of back up or support.

Duncan shrugged. "You're the one who came up with the idea to spar," he reminded him.

Methos snarled ill-temperedly but didn't dispute it. He eyed Geno balefully, sword also held ready as he caught his breath. "Well, I've got news for you, old friend. You keep telling people you're just a day younger than me. The fact is, I don't know when I was born. I don't know where I was born. All I know is that 5000 years ago I took the first head I could remember taking. I was at least a few hundred years old at the time you were strapped to a cradleboard!"

Without waiting for Geno's response, Methos leaped forward, intending to run his friend clean through.  

[Geno Roads]

Geno grinned insanely and let his old friend run him through. The blade went straight through his chest. Geno cackled and swung his sword directly at Methos' neck, stopping millimeters before it connect. "Your dead." He smiled.  

[Immortal Methos]

Methos gasped as the blade stopped just short of knicking the precious skin of his neck and for a moment the two old friends stared into each other's eyes. Then Geno's clouded over and his sword dropped, blood frothing at his lips as he died.

Duncan was on his feet the moment he saw the blade going for Methos' neck, hissing sharply. He reached his side as the old man yanked his sword free from Geno's chest and the two of them eased Roads to the hardwood floor.

"Neat trick," MacLeod said.

Methos sat back on his heels, watching Geno's body, his calm self once again. "If you find yourself in the need to ever try it," he said, "take the sword through the gut instead of the chest. You'll have better control of your return swing, and you'll live long enough to complete it." His fingers smoothed Geno's hair lightly. "Idiot," he said fondly.  

[Geno Roads]

Geno's eyes popped open and he gasped loudly, drawing air into his lungs. He smiled as he looked up and saw the eyes of his old friend. He rose to a knee and gripped his sword. "Good fight, was it not?"  

[Immortal Methos]

"You boys play rough," MacLeod observed, as Methos swatted Geno on the back of the head.

"As fights go," Methos groused, "it was a good one." He retrieved his own sword and shook the blood off the blade as he looked down at his friend, a smile tugging his lips. "You okay? 'Cause, you look like someone ran you through."  

[Geno Roads]

Geno chuckled. "Well, someone did run me through." He smiles and grabbed his own sword, removing the blood from the blade. "I definitely won that one."  

[Immortal Methos]

Methos shrugged, winking at MacLeod. "I'll let you have this one," he said, chuckling. "You did make me lose my temper. And it's a good move, when done right, but only as a last resort," he added to Mac. "It's dangerous and could backfire. The gut, Geno, not the chest. I shredded shoulderblade muscles, almost pierced your spine. If I had, you would have been paralyzed from your neck down."  

[Geno Roads]

Geno chuckled. "Yes, Yes, I am completely aware what you did to me. But see, I would of died and revived, all damage gone." He sheathed his sword and smiled.  

[Immortal Methos]

Methos rolled his eyes. "I don't think you're quite getting my point," he said, flicking Geno's forehead with his finger. "The kind of wound I made, where I struck you, you would never have been able to complete the swing. Your muscles were too damaged, your heart pierced. You'd be dead, and I'd still have my head. You'd have been at my mercy, old friend."

"You two should hit the showers," MacLeod said quietly, feeling like an intruder in a scene as old as time. "You're getting blood all over my floor."  

[Geno Roads]

Geno frowned. "Ow." He glared at Methos. "Hey, I get your point now." He said. "It was an interesting fight." Geno smiled once more and held out his hand, for Methos to shake it.  

[Immortal Methos]

Methos gripped Geno's forearm in the manner of warriors past and drew him into a fierce hug. "The fight be damned," he said into his friend's ear. "I'm very glad to see you again."  

[Geno Roads]

He hugged him back just as fierce. "As am I." He smiled.  

[Immortal Methos]

MacLeod put his hands on his hips, scowling. "Blood," he said. "My floor. The showers. Go."

Methos stepped back from the embrace, releasing Geno's arm with a grin. "MacLeod's like an old woman sometimes," he laughed. "A total neat freak."  

[Geno Roads]

Geno smirked. "Yes, yes. I can see that." He chuckled.  

[Immortal Methos]

A big hand closed on the back of Methos' slim neck, fingers that could snap bone using a gentle but firm grip to guide him toward the back. Methos gave a soft squawk but wisely didn't fight as Mac crooked a finger at Geno to follow.

"There are towels in that locker," the Scot said, pointing. "Clean up, and I'll get you both a change of clothes. Methos' clothes," he added.

The ancient gave Mac a narrow-eyed glare that was just this side of a full out laugh.