Notes: Complete, a bit of lighthearted fluff inspired by a recent archeological find I read about.
Character(s): Methos, Joe Dawson, OFC.
Summary: A bored Methos could try the patience of a saint; just ask one!
Just a little ficlet inspired by my post from earlier today.
The More Things Change
San Luis Obispo, August, 2009
“Leave it,” Charlotte warned as Methos tried to snag the other half of her bagel. “You’ve already had yours.”
“But I’m still hungry.” He looked at her entreatingly.
“You know where the Bagel Bakery is,” she replied unsympathetically, pointing towards the front door of the saloon, not even looking up from the liquor manifest Joe had given her to check over.
“Fine,” he said snippily.
“Joe,” he turned towards the man sitting next to him, “are you—“
“Yes, I am actually.” He picked up his bagel with a flourish, moving it farther away from Methos.
“Some friend you are,” he groused.
Joe just grinned, and Charlotte rolled her eyes, shaking her head.
Slouching in his chair, Methos started fiddling with the pile of invoices Joe and Charlotte were going over for the end of the month books at Standish & Black.
This time, she smacked his hand. "Stop it!”
“Hey, no need for violence,” he protested.
She gave him a flinty look. “Is that what you think?”
“Give it up, old man,” Joe advised with a laugh.
Methos sighed dramatically. “At least tell me you’ll be finished soon.”
“For God’s sake, Methos!” Charlotte exclaimed. “I didn’t ask you to tag along this morning, did I? You’re a big boy; if you’re bored, go find something to do and leave me and Joe in peace!”
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Methos muttered under his breath.
Joe reached across the small table, putting a placating hand on Charlotte’s wrist before she exploded. “Come on, man, give us a break, okay? It ain’t exciting, but this is what working stiffs do.”
“You do remember what work is, don’t you, dear?” Charlotte asked with mock sweetness.
“That’s what I thought.” Now it was Charlotte’s turn to mutter under her breath.
“And why isn’t Ezra here?” Methos asked suddenly.
She looked up at the ceiling in exasperation. “Because he was delayed in Belize.”
“Well that’s just fine, isn’t it? At least if he were here, there’d be a card game in the offing.”
She snorted, waving her hand at the paperwork scattered over the table the three were sitting at in the back of the saloon. “Not if he knew what was good for him, there wouldn’t.”
“Nice beaches in Belize,” Methos commented absently. "You know, I remember this time—“
Cutting him off before he could say anything else, she picked up a newspaper from the chair next to her, thrusting it toward the peevish Immortal. “Read this and be quiet,” she ordered.
“I’d do as the lady suggests,” Joe told his friend, obviously losing patience.
Methos huffed, but opened the newspaper, pouting at the lack of empathy from his companions.
For a few minutes, all was peaceful; a very few minutes.
“So that’s where those got to!”
Charlotte and Joe looked at each other, neither sure they wanted to ask.
Warily, she finally asked, “Where what got to?”
Methos folded over the paper, turning it so they both could see. The headline read: University of Toronto archaeologists find cache of cuneiform tablets in 2,700-year old Turkish temple. “I kept records for the temple, but you know how it is, paperwork is always getting misplaced – even when it’s in stone.”
“You never could keep track of your things,” Charlotte noted dryly.
“So, any earth shattering knowledge to be discovered once they translate them?” Joe asked curiously.
Methos looked sheepish. “Not really.”
“Well?” she prodded. “What's on them?”
He picked up the pile of papers in the center of the table. “Liquor inventory.”