Grateful thanks go to my skilled beta, Cat Standish, who greatly improved the quality of this story. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

Ezra groaned, turned over in bed and opened bleary green eyes. His unfocused gaze lit on the reason for his stirring at this ungodly hour of the morning. The misbegotten invention of a sadistic mind, or what most people called the telephone, was ringing shrilly enough to wake the dead. Irritably, he closed his eyes, pulled his pillow closer and reached for the phone.

"What?" he said in greeting.

Initially he received laughter in reply before a deep voice responded, "Good morning, Ezra. Did I wake you?"

"Is it afternoon yet, Mr. Sanchez?"

"No," was the amused reply.

"Then you woke me," he said shortly.

"My apologies, son."

"Mr. Sanchez," he sighed irritably, "there is no possible chance that you are my father. In light of this I'm-sure-quite-shocking-information, please refrain from any further references to me as your son."

"Of course Ezra," Josiah said, mischief inherent in his tone before it turned deadly serious. "We have a problem."

"What's wrong?" he asked instantly, a whisper of unease creeping through him. His friend and direct superior in the Watchers had rarely sounded so disturbed.

"Kalas is hunting Methos."

There was a pregnant silence for a moment before, "So?" Ezra asked, confusion in his voice. "Just because I'm the Watcher in charge of the Methos Chronicles doesn't mean I care if an Immortal tries to hunt down a myth, even an Immortal as psychotically dangerous as Kalas. Call me back if he finds him," he yawned and pulled the receiver away from his ear in preparation for hanging up.

"Wait," a loud voice protested over the line.

Pausing a moment, Ezra closed his eyes and almost went back to sleep before the shouting coming through the phone finally irritated him enough to begin listening again. What he heard had him wide awake in a flash, sitting up in bed while the sheet fell in careless folds to his naked waist.

"You did what?" he asked coldly, disbelief coloring his tone.

"Kalas knows about the Watchers and he knows you're in charge of the Methos Chronicles. He'll be coming for you, so I sent Vin to protect you."

Ezra pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at if for a long moment. Slowly, he lifted it again and asked quietly, "Mr. Sanchez, are you informing me that you have revealed my presence and current domicile to Vin Tanner, the 400 year old Boy Scout you watch? An Immortal, if I recall correctly, you are supposed to have no contact with?"

"Yes."

"Thank you for thinking of me, Mr. Sanchez," he said as calmly as he could manage, "I'll be in touch." He hung up the phone and unplugged it in the middle of renewed ringing. Blindly he stared at the far wall, his hand flexing absently as if feeling the weight of balanced steel across his palm.

Sunlight shone in scattered patterns through the lightly shuttered window and highlighted the elegance and stunning quality of the room. However, the man in bed called forth the light's most loving caresses; it dipped into hollows and lightly traced tight muscles. Smooth, pale skin that normally hid from the playful rays shone as alabaster and Ezra looked like a marble statue frozen in repose. The illusion shattered in the next instant as he shrugged irritably.

Gleaming jade eyes narrowed in lightning thought. Cunning, intelligence, and ageless wisdom burned brightly through the windows to his soul before they shuttered to a blank, unreadable expression. A slight smile lingered though, and a sense of tension hung in the room.

Slipping gracefully from bed, he padded naked to the wardrobe and carefully dressed in charcoal dress pants and a rough silk cream-colored shirt. Suitably attired, he settled into a comfortable chair in his living room and began absently shuffling cards as he waited for his visitor.

Almost half an hour later, he heard knocking at his door but chose to ignore it. The knocking increased in intensity then faded to the sound of his front door opening. He continued to play, flipping the cards out casually, seeming to ignore the man who had appeared in the door to his living room.

After several moments, he looked up and veiled green eyes met shocked blue.

"Methos?" the other man whispered.

"Vin Tanner, I presume," he drawled, "Welcome to my humble abode, mi casa es su casa. However, please don't call me that; Methos is a myth."

He studied the man that slowly sat down in the chair opposite him. Light brown hair fell in tumbled waves around a gentle, strong face. Vin's build was muscular and suggested strength and speed. However, the Quickening -Vin's Immortal energy and power- danced over his tongue with surprising sweetness entrancing him. There was a suggestion of open breezes, gentle laughter, and sun-warmed honey, mixed with the steadfast, mournful howl of a lone wolf.

His learned talent for tasting Quickenings, rather than just feeling a buzz of power, made his appraisal of Immortals almost infallible. Nothing being certain in life, however, especially for a man who had survived for over 5000 years, he reserved judgment and watched the other Immortal with impassive eyes.

When several long moments of silence passed, Ezra sighed. "Why don't we take a walk while you assimilate the information you have just learned?" Concealing a smirk at the silent nod he received, he led them on a slow stroll through his neighborhood, absently watching the sun sparkle on the water in the River Seine.

"So," Vin mused softly, "5000 years. Have you..."

"Surmised the purpose for our existence? Found a meaning for the seemingly senseless nature of reality?"

"You read minds too?" Vin softly questioned with a hint of humor coloring his tone.

Laughing, Ezra shook his head. "That is what I would ask, if I had met me."

Vin stopped and stared at him with serious, mesmerizing eyes. "I didn't think you existed."

Eyes twinkling, he flashed a crooked grin. "It's good to be a myth."

"No one hunts a myth." There was a short pause. "Or a Watcher."

"What better place to hide," Ezra agreed. "I'm in charge of finding myself and I make sure it never happens."

"Well, Kalas has found you."

"Do you think I would still be here, if I was an easy mark?"

"When was the last time you took a head?"

"Well, let's see, it's the sixth of March so that would make it... oh, 200 years or so." Ezra grinned at Vin's expression. "I may be a bit rusty, but I'm still here."

"Let's keep it that way," Vin said softly. "I'll stay close."

Despite the intimate shiver that tingled down his spine at the low-voiced words, Ezra shook his head. "You cannot fight my battles for me, Mr. Tanner." Walking slowly away, he could feel the burning of that intense blue gaze into his back. He had no illusions that he had seen the last of the young Immortal and truth be known he was glad of it.

Upon coming closer to his house, he paused as the unmistakable ripple sensation of another Immortal seared across his nerves. He continued until sighting Kalas lounging on the steps of his abode.

"So you're the famous Methos," Kalas sneered. "I found your journal. Pity I couldn't read the hieroglyphics, but the Greek was most enlightening."

Ezra smiled slightly. "I'm surprised you can read."

Kalas' eyes narrowed in anger and he drew his sword. "There can be only one, Methos, and it won't be you."

"Promises, promises," Ezra sighed and drew his own sword.

Soon the battle raged up and down the river, swords clashing and sparks flying. One Immortal seemed to gain the upper hand and then the other. However, it slowly became apparent that Ezra was losing the advantage. With one last flashing move, Kalas laid the bright edge of his sword against Ezra's neck.

"You've been out of the game too long, old man."

"Not that long," Ezra smiled mysteriously and with a sudden roll threw them both into the river. As the water closed over his head and the sudden drop and pressure caused him to lose consciousness, his last thought was of intense blue eyes and a gentle Quickening that rolled in such gentle waves through his body.

The next sensation he felt was rocks digging into his back and with a heave he drew himself to his knees and coughed up the river water in his lungs. Grimacing at the sour taste burning in the back of his throat, he considered his next step. Slowly standing up, he stretched in the night air and shivered at the breeze on his wet clothes.

Plucking at his ruined shirt he muttered, "Being Immortal is so hard on the wardrobe."

Sighing, he concealed his sword and, after wringing the water as best he could from his clothes and hair, he started walking. A short time later, he approached Vin's barge and smiled faintly at the sight of the younger Immortal walking along the dock. He shivered with the singing of the Quickening along his nerves but forced his face into an impassive expression.

Vin stopped at his appearance out of the darkness and blue eyes quickly raked over him, "Ezra. Kalas found you? Is he dead?"

Without speaking, Ezra shook his head and drew his sword, slashing at the other Immortal. Ignoring the faint hint of betrayal he could read in the other man's eyes, he lunged again. Dancing out of his reach, Vin drew his own sword and for the second time that night, a battle raged through the streets of Paris. Just as before, the fight ended with the biting edge of a sword against Ezra's neck.

"What are you waiting for, Mr. Tanner?" he asked harshly. "Finish it."

Without hesitation, Vin stepped back and his sword dropped. "No," he said flatly.

"I would have killed you," he insisted with a deadly hiss.

"No," Vin said softly, a considering light in his eyes. "You wanted me to take your head. Why?"

Ezra straightened and let bitter weariness show in his eyes. "Because if you do not, Kalas will. And with 5000 years of Quickening, he will become unstoppable."

"And your only solution is that I kill you first?" Vin's voice was disbelieving and his knuckles tightened until they shone white on his katana.

"He can beat me, he might beat you, but he can not beat both of us."

"So," Vin said with an edge in his voice, "If the solution is so simple, why don't you take my head?"

Shaking his head tiredly, Ezra disagreed, "It is not just a matter of who is the better fighter. It is about passion and fire, I no longer feel that intensely but you do." Stepping closer, he let his body brush against the lean length of the younger Immortal. "Live, Vin Tanner; grow stronger; fight another day."

Vin glared at him, sheathed his katana with a scraping hiss, and stalked off towards his barge. "You're welcome to come inside as soon as you give up this stupid plan of yours." He threw over his shoulder before slamming the door behind him.

Left behind, Ezra held his impassive expression for a long moment before laughing softly. "So, Mr. Tanner," he mused in a whisper, "you do not want the power of the oldest Immortal. Perhaps you are trustworthy after all." As he turned his hand slightly, the streetlight glinted on polished metal and there was a low snick as he resettled his derringer into its sleeve holster.

Strolling nonchalantly across the street, he let himself into the barge. Vin waited on him inside and without a word, motioned him towards the shower. Smiling slightly, Ezra slipped inside the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Spying clothes and a fresh towel laid out for him, he nodded in approval.

He stripped his clothes, stepped into the shower and luxuriated in the hot water, washing the muddy detritus of the river from him. Fastidiously, he washed his hair several times and scrubbed his skin until it was red before he was satisfied. Slipping into clothes that were a bit large for him, he exited only to find Vin waiting with a cup of hot tea.

With a grateful smile, he took the hot cup from Vin, making sure to brush the other man's skin as he did so. Sitting down, he sipped blissfully, and decided he just might have to keep the delicious man with the gorgeous blue eyes and nurturing streak.

"I suppose you have a plan that allows both of us to keep our heads," Ezra said after finishing his tea.

"Kalas will probably wait for you to show up at your place. I'll be there when he does," Vin said quietly a calm look in his eyes.

"I thought we agreed you would not be fighting my battles, Mr. Tanner."

"No, we," Vin said with a slight emphasis, "didn't agree. Besides, I figure after tonight you owe me."

Ezra thoughtfully eyed the younger Immortal casually lounging on the couch across from him. There was an implacable look in the blue eyes and he had the distinct feeling that very little would dissuade him from his course.

"Very well, Mr. Tanner, you may have the distinct pleasure of facing that unpleasant miscreant."

"Thank you, Ezra," Vin said gravely, just as if he had been given a great gift.

Rolling his eyes, Ezra sighed and ignored the mischievous grin he got in return for his dramatics. Yawning, he rested his head tiredly against the back of the sofa. He had always found it interesting that even Immortals required rest, but the proof lurked in his aching head.

"You need some sleep," Vin said softly. "Why don't you take my bed for the night. I'll be perfectly comfortable on the couch."

Never one to deny himself comfort, he only asked, "Are you sure?" before stretching out on the large, soft bed.

He smiled slightly at the soft laughter that echoed through the room.

"Good night, Ezra," Vin said softly.

"Good night, Mr. Tanner," he said in return.

More at ease than he had been in hundreds of years; he basked in the brushed cotton sheets and the seductive scent of spices and sunshine that permeated the soft pillow. Most of all, however, he reveled in the comforting ripple of the younger Immortal's Quickening that whispered along his nerves and seemed to settle under his skin like a long forgotten friend.

Waking slowly the next morning, he enjoyed the clear-headedness that was the result of restful sleep and a night without haunting nightmares. It was rare that he did not startle awake at least once and he attributed it to the younger Immortal's presence. He also attributed the rich, enticing aroma of coffee and muffins scenting the air to the younger Immortal and opened his eyes with a smile.

"Finally awake, sleepy-head?"

"It is positively barbaric to wake before ten o'clock and, having once been a barbarian, I can claim to be an authority on the subject."

"Well rest assured that it is ten-thirty and you are in no danger of being mistaken for a barbarian," Vin said, amusement brightening his face and throbbing in his voice.

Studying the other man, Ezra could not help the surge of longing that teased along his spine. A light beard tickled the other man's face, and combined with the ragged jeans and tousled hair, Vin looked dangerously delicious.

As if feeling the heat shivering across his skin, Vin's eyes darkened and he almost seemed to lean forward before pulling back. He stood and gathered his coat from the corner before opening the door. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll be back as soon as I've taken care of Kalas."

Ezra raised one eyebrow in the other man's direction and received a silent, intent stare in return. The gaze seemed to command him to stay where he was while Vin took care of the problem. Impassively, he watched the determined Immortal stride out of the room and off the barge.

"You have a lot to learn about me, my young Immortal," he said quietly. Swiftly devouring his breakfast, he followed far enough behind Vin to not betray his presence. Upon sighting his house, he saw that the battle between the two Immortals had begun. Not counting it a loss to miss the undoubtedly banal introductions and challenge, he slipped inside and collected his cell phone.

Stepping back outside, he watched the combat intently for a moment before nodding bleakly. "I have plans for you, Vin Tanner," he muttered, "and they don't involve you getting yourself killed." Placing a quick call to the police, he reported a disturbance and then settled back to watch the increasingly intense battle. He tensed and fear raced through him as Vin missed his footing and stumbled, only to breathe a sigh of relief as he regained his balance and continued to fight. The younger Immortal was graceful, dangerous, skilled, and would have been a joy to watch if Ezra had not been so worried. The last time Vin had fought Kalas he had come within a hairbreadth of loosing his head.

Sirens cut through the air, halting the battle and both Immortals hesitated for a split second before putting away their swords and fading into the alleys. Nodding his head in satisfaction, Ezra went inside and changed back into his own clothes. He smiled as the seductive ripple of his favorite Quickening flowed and tickled across his skin. Upon exiting his bedroom, he found an angry Vin waiting on him.

"Why?" Vin snapped, staring at him, anger blazing blue flames in his eyes.

"Because I didn't know if you could beat him. It was a chance I couldn't take. Remember, Vin Tanner, live, grow stronger. Fight another day."

Ezra tensed slightly as Vin stalked closer until they were only inches apart. The heat from the other man's body was incredibly seductive, even with the anger blazing from him in tense ripples.

"Next time," Vin hissed, "take the chance."

"I abhor gambling, Mr. Tanner, and as such leave nothing to chance," Ezra said quietly.

"Damn it," the other man cursed and then hooked a strong hand behind Ezra's head before pulling him close in a heated kiss. Vin drew him against the hard length of his body, expelling the breath from him in a rush. The kiss continued--deep, wet, long--until he was light headed and all of his senses filled with Vin and his sunshine scent and addictive sweetness. Ezra melted into the teasing tongue and possessive grip and staggered as Vin suddenly pulled away.

The younger Immortal was tense and breathing hard. "Kalas is still out there and waiting for you."

"You do have a one track mind," Ezra sighed. "Don't worry about Kalas."

"I do worry." Vin reached up and traced his cheek with a gentle finger. "I can't help it. Promise me you won't interrupt again, please."

Ezra hesitated for a long moment, staring into mesmerizing blue eyes. He sighed, "I promise I won't interrupt a fight between you and Kalas a second time."

"Thank you," Vin smiled and kissed him possessively before striding out the door, a determined hunter's expression fixed upon his face.

Ezra was quiet for a long moment, rubbing his fingers across lips that tingled, before laughing in true, rare amusement. "You're learning, Vin Tanner, but you still have a ways to go. It's not going to be nearly that easy. Not nearly that easy at all."

Strolling out his front door, he lounged on the steps, waiting for the inevitable. He felt a stirring of satisfaction as the skittering, rough edged Quickening of Kalas scraped through him and tickled his eyes.

"So," Kalas purred. "Where is your bodyguard?"

"Out hunting you." Ezra laughed softly.

"Well, I'll take care of him after I remove your head from its ancient shoulders."

Despite himself, Ezra felt rage rush through him at the faintest hint of threat against the man he was coming to care for more than any other in millennia. Drawing his sword with a scraping hiss, he smiled lethally as a cold deadness invaded his mind. His eyes flattened and lost their lively humor and Death stared at one who would menace his own. Kalas hesitated, perhaps sensing something of the transformation and Ezra laughed mockingly.

With a snarl, Kalas lunged forward and the elder Immortal danced gracefully out of his way. This fight was much different from the two previous and Kalas frowned confusedly at his suddenly deadly opponent. From that point on the younger Immortal was on the defensive, moving backwards, becoming more desperate with every passing minute.

With careless speed, Ezra suddenly disarmed the other man and stared down at Kalas with impassive eyes. "I have never believed in the 'There Can Be Only One theory,' but that having been said, it won't be you." With that rather cryptic comment, Ezra spun in a quick move, and Kalas' headless body fell at his feet.

Bracing himself for the blast of a released Quickening he knew to be coming, he reflected on how much he hated this moment. He wished there was another way to permanently stop hunting Immortals, rather than taking their heads and with it their power and life force. There were already too many personalities and people populating his psyche and he loathed adding any more. It inevitably took him weeks to cleanse himself of strange impulses and random thoughts.

The first psychic blast hit him and leftover energy leaked into the atmosphere and shattered the windows to his house as lightning flashed in an otherwise cloudless sky. Arching his back, he screamed as the rough Quickening fried his nerve endings and sparked pain-mingled ecstasy in every part of his body. The assault continued for long moments as he convulsed with the excess energy.

When the lightning finally ended, he collapsed to his knees, sobbing in relief. Quickenings did not become easier as time went on; rather as he became older, they became harder to take. Staggering, he pulled himself to his feet and stared at the headless body just feet from him. Sighing, he went inside and made the phone call he knew would end his life here. Minutes later, an efficient team showed up and, without a word, the body in front of his house disappeared. He nodded to the leader of his clean-up team; Edward was ever efficient and unquestioning. In hours, all of his journals, artifacts and furniture would be packed into storage and all traces of his presence would be erased. He walked out of his house, started his car and left the City of Love without a second glance.

Tired beyond imagining, Ezra stopped hours outside of Paris at a small Bed and Breakfast and rented a room. Barely even seeing the flowered quilt and tasteful dcor, he collapsed on the bed and was asleep before he drew two complete breaths. Hours later, he shifted restlessly as alien memories intruded into his dreams, and his slumber became riddled with nightmarish images. His own recollections mixed with the sadistic memories of a psychotic Immortal. Children screamed, women begged for mercy, and the faces of the enemy melted into the faces of his friends as fire burned around him.

Shivering he opened his eyes and for many long minutes he tried to orient himself. Phantom images haunted him, floating ethereally through the room and hiding in the shadows. Finally awake enough to banish the night terrors, he separated nightmare from reality. Wistfully, he found himself wishing for strong arms to hold him close and a gentle Quickening to banish the haunting fears. He could have had that if he had stayed in Paris, but after 5000 years, he found it exceedingly difficult to trust.

Vin Tanner had proven that he was not a headhunter and was not after the oldest Immortal's power. That in itself was rare among Immortals but he still found himself hesitant because his head was not the only thing at risk. In just a few hours, the younger Immortal had managed to touch a heart that Ezra could have sworn was hardened beyond reaching. He did not know if he was ready to feel again, ready to make himself vulnerable and care once more.

Damn it, he groused silently, he should never have read the reports on Josiah's assignment. If he had not been so intrigued with the younger Immortal, this might never have happened. He would have cleared out of Paris within minutes of Josiah's call and no one would have ever been the wiser. He wouldn't be wrestling with the dilemma on whether to disappear completely or to take a chance on the promises in intense blue eyes.

Well, whichever way he decided, he didn't feel like doing it on two hours of sleep. Sighing, he turned over, pulled the pillow over his head and hoped the rest of the night would be more restful.

The next morning, Ezra awoke feeling marginally better, but strange whispers still echoed in his mind and shadows lurked on the edges of his vision. Knowing only time would disperse the unsettling aftereffects of the Quickening, he did his best to ignore the disturbing sensations.

Staring at the ceiling, he continued to wrestle with the decision to either disappear or insinuate himself into Vin Tanner's life and deal with the consequences. His heart was urging him in one direction while his mind was advising him to follow the other. The decision was very close and his head almost won over his heart; but in the end, he could not bear to live with the uncertainty and decided to risk a heart battered with ancient hurts.

But not immediately, he decided; he wanted time for his mind to be his own once more and time for Vin to think of him and decide what he wanted before he showed up in his life again. Yawning, glad to have made a decision, he turned over in bed, pulled the comfortable quilt over him and went back to sleep.

Over a month later, he stared out the window of his new abode, watching the snow shimmer down in light sheets. It figured, he sighed, Vin could not have picked sunny, warm Phoenix, temperate San Francisco, or warm, humid Orlando; no, he had to pick cold, snowy Denver. Granted, the country around Denver was gorgeous and the weathermen forecast seventies next week, but for now, it was cold, and he hated frigid weather. He was sure it was his imagination, but his bones seemed to ache just like a mortals in the intemperate climate, reminding him of his age.

Shaking off his brief melancholy, he sat down at his desk and booted up his laptop. With a snicker of amusement, he logged into the Watcher database under Josiah's account and read the latest reports, confirming that Vin had relocated to Denver. The Watchers had deactivated his own account and password within days of the Kalas incident. An exercise in futility if there ever was one, he laughed; he had thoroughly explored every avenue, nook, and cranny of the Watcher network. The only way they would have the slightest hope of keeping him out would be to change everyone's account names and passwords, relocate the server, and rewrite the entire program. Short of those measures, he pretty much had free run of their system.

Not that he ever planned to tell them; instead, he simply intended to reap the benefits of his inside information. Besides, telling the Watchers that their database was vulnerable to the world's oldest Immortal would just put them in an unnecessary panic. It wasn't as if he planned to use the information to hunt. He shuddered, especially since it was only in the past few days that his mind felt clean again. Instead, he used the database to avoid confrontations and, while his former employers might object, he saw no ethical dilemma in using all of his resources to stay alive.

Although why he was risking his anonymity was still a mystery, he mused as he dressed for an evening at the combination bar and jazz club that Josiah had opened. A perfect occupation for the grizzly, personable bear of a man; in Ezra's opinion Josiah had been born to be either a bartender or a priest. Shrugging into a black, soft leather duster that didn't look out of place in the snowy weather, he strolled down the street enjoying the fresh air in contradiction of his earlier cold hating mood.

Several blocks from the club, he slowed and came to a stop, trying to distinguish the different Quickenings skimming and flickering through his mind. Vin's fierce, gentle warmth, he distinguished easily. However, there were at least three other Quickenings in the same vicinity--a moody, fierce, rumbling surge of energy; a laughing, protective ripple; and a mischievous, innocent twinkle. He could make an educated guess on the identities of the other Quickenings, and he had expected at least one of them with Vin tonight, but he had not expected all three of them.

Frowning, he turned and began the walk back to his apartment. Never quite sure he was doing the right thing in the first instance, the presence of four Immortals in one place dissuaded him from making his presence known. His natural wariness overwhelmed the urgings of his heart, and, despite a nagging longing for Vin and his bright Quickening, he could not find it in himself to take the chance. A bitter taste lingered in the back of his throat as he swallowed self-disgust at his cowardice.

The cold seemed to bite deeper as he stared unseeingly at the streets he passed by. The beauty of crystalline snowflakes was lost on him as he brushed past other people hurrying down the sidewalks. Sunk into the dark depths of his mind, it took him several minutes to realize that the warm, sunshine Quickening he associated with Vin was not fading; instead, it was growing stronger with each passing second.

Grimacing, Ezra stopped and leaned his head back against the brick wall behind him. It was obvious to him that Vin had a greater reach than he had anticipated and was reluctant to let Ezra fade into the night. With any other Immortal, he might have made a mad dash into side streets trying to lose his pursuer but he was not sure that he wanted to escape. It was the coward's way out to be glad that the choice had been taken from him, but he found himself strangely relieved nevertheless.

At a slightly quicker pace, since he didn't want their confrontation to take place on the streets, he strode to his new apartment. Letting himself inside, he left the door unlocked and stood in the middle of the living room. He looked up just as a lithe form strode into view and, even from across the room, he felt scorched by intense blue eyes. Sighing, he waited for the inevitable, his eyes roaming over the determined man walking towards him. Droplets of snow hung in his uncovered hair for a brief instant and melted to gleaming prisms of light. A faded brown leather jacket over well-worn blue jeans gave him a dangerous, unbridled look that coupled with the heat burning in crystalline eyes sent a frisson of need deep into Ezra's heart.

Vin did not slow as he moved nearer and Ezra could not help the instinctive wariness and slight tenseness that invaded his body and shivered through his nerves. Not stopping until he was directly in front of him, Vin crowded him backwards until he was against the wall and then leaned even closer as hot breath blew across Ezra's face and he stared into unfettered, fierce eyes. Vin's Quickening rose up and engulfed him and the cold of the night faded away, replaced with blue shining warmth. Ezra shuddered and tried to pull away as the warmth invaded every aspect of his being, but Vin moved closer and trapped him against the wall. Ripples of warmth cascaded through him in surges and long forgotten wounds on his soul broke open and healed.

He could feel Vin's Quickening deep inside his mind and bonding with his soul. Ezra had heard of this happening only twice in his ancient life. When two Immortal's Quickenings merged, the resulting bonds brought the two closer than lovers, closer than brothers, in an unbreakable tie that lasted throughout time. More desperate now, terrified of how this would change his life, he struggled in earnest to get away, but his movements were uncoordinated as memories flooded his mind. He saw Vin's life, lived every moment as if it had happened to him and knew in terrified fear that Vin was experiencing his life the same way.

Moaning in desperate denial, he slumped to the floor as his legs gave way. He did not want anyone, ever, to learn about his life. He had done unconscionable things, performed heinous acts that he could never redeem himself from and dared not ask forgiveness for. The broken, jagged cliffs of madness that he had skirted over the centuries loomed closer and he felt his mind begin to fragment.

"Love you, Ezra." Vin whispered.

Bright warmth filled him and the wounded edges of his mind began healing as Vin flooded him with understanding and love over their new connection. Shuddering with the sensations, Ezra did not resist as Vin urged him to his feet and moved them into a comfortable position on the couch. Slowly, he settled into the new bonds and relaxed back against the strong body holding him protectively close. Opening his eyes, he blinked several times until the room cleared and then turned to look at his soul mate.

Vin's eyes were loving and peaceful and Ezra almost wished for the same equanimity but he could feel it emanate from Vin and it soothed the ragged edges in his composure. There was no need for words between them and for once Ezra did not feel the need to fill the silence. Instead, he rested in the knowledge that loneliness was banished from his life. An undeterminable time later, he roused to Vin's gentle shaking.

"I hate to interrupt, but if I don't let the guys know what is going on, they're liable to send out a posse," Vin drawled, humor lightening his voice placing a light kiss on his lips, a small promise of what was to come.

"Well, I would hate to be the subject of a city-wide manhunt," Ezra said lightly, a slight uneasiness whispering through him at the mention of Vin's Immortal friends.

Privacy having been lost with the new bonds between them, Vin felt his apprehension and immediately moved to soothe him.

"They're good men. They can be trusted not to go for your head; and if by some chance I'm wrong, they'll have to go through me."

Rolling his eyes, he sighed. "Haven't we had this conversation several times already? You cannot fight my battles for me."

Vin nodded his head but a slight grin quirked the edges of his mouth. "You're probably right, Ez, but it won't stop me from trying."

Although he did his best to frown, he knew that the younger Immortal could feel the amusement lurking behind the scowl.

Grinning, Vin pulled him up. "C'mon, sooner we meet the guys, sooner we can be alone without a posse being called."

Bright heat flooded his mind, distracting him and it was a minute before he even noticed that they had left his apartment and were walking down the street.

"Damn it, stop doing that," he muttered.

His new mate only grinned and continued to tease him with tendrils of lust and heat trickling into his mind. The distraction worked to perfection and they were standing in front of the club with three bright Quickenings swirling around him before he had time to feel any apprehension. A warm hand on the small of his back gave Ezra comfort and courage and he walked into the club wearing his best impassive face.

A low, bluesy number echoed around the club, emanating from the band on the stage and period decorations and lighting gave the interior the feel of a 1920's Chicago Speakeasy. The atmosphere was relaxed and laughter sang through the air to compliment the music.

Vin headed straight for a table in the corner where three men lounged. The crowd seemed to melt around them and soon Ezra stared into the faces of Vin's friends and inwardly mourned slightly at the wary looks he received in turn. He knew from other Immortals that his Quickening was like a tide and pulsed with ancient war cries and drums. It was not gentle and trustworthy in nature like Vin's but caused wariness and fear in most he met. Vin's thumb moved in a subtle motion against his back and a phantom kiss pressed against his cheek in reassurance as he introduced his friends.

The green-eyed blonde with the uncompromising expression and rumbling Quickening stood up and exchanged a quick glance with Vin. "This is my teacher and kinsman, Chris Larabee," Vin introduced and then pointed at a dark haired man with a sober, assessing expression but a laughing, bright Quickening. "An old friend, Buck Wilmington." Vin lastly gestured to a young man with eagerness and wariness mixed in his eyes and innocence and determination mixed in his Quickening. "This is my student, JD Dunne."

Ezra nodded silently, impassively, waiting to see how the next scene would play out. He had read about each of the Immortals in front of him but did not know them well enough to predict their actions.

Chris moved in front of him and stared coldly, "He tore the city apart searching for you. Don't run out on him again."

A small smile graced Ezra's face. "I don't trust easily Mr. Larabee, but you can be assured that if I ever leave again that Vin will be able to find me."

Vin chuckled and hugged him close with an arm around his waist. As if that were a signal, the others relaxed. Chris sat down and motioned for Vin and Ezra to make themselves comfortable.

After sitting down, Ezra turned his gaze to Vin's young student who was staring at him with wide eyes and lifted a brow.

"Are you really Methos, the oldest, living Immortal?" JD asked, awed.

"I prefer Ezra Standish, as the name is less likely to provoke hunters," Ezra said quietly, "as to whether I'm the oldest Immortal," he shrugged. "I'm five thousand years old, give or take a century and I have yet to meet an Immortal older than myself."

"What was it like thousands of years ago?" JD asked with a faraway gleam in his eyes.

Thundering war cries echoed in Ezra's memory. The civilized atmosphere of the club faded to dirty faces thinned by hunger and hardship. Fires burnt and he felt the itch of paint on his face as the smell of charred meat lingered in the air. Smoke filled his nostrils and the bleating of livestock mixed with the low moaning of the wounded.

"Ezra," Vin said concernedly.

Breaking free from the past, he shook himself slightly and nodded reassuringly at Vin before looking back at JD. "It was a different world, Mr. Dunne," he said simply.

JD frowned and opened his mouth again only to subside as Buck whapped him softly on the back of his head.

"Let it go, kid. Man's past is his own," Buck's voice filled with understanding and he flicked a quick glance in Chris' direction.

Surprised, Ezra looked at Chris also and encountered eyes dark with an old pain. A strange understanding formed between the two Immortals at that moment and Ezra finally began to relax slightly. With the acceptance of the leader of this motley group of Immortals, he knew the other two would follow soon.

"Hey Ez," Buck said, mischief gleaming in his eyes, "what's with the name? With all your years of experience you couldn't come up with a more modern sounding moniker?"

Leaning back in his chair, Ezra drawled, "I suppose Buck Wilmington would have been a better choice?"

The dark haired man preened, "The ladies love it. Besides," he said with a shrug and a grin, "It's better than the Fitzcairn my dear sainted mother wanted to saddle me with."

Ezra laughed, "I agree."

A presence at his elbow distracted him and he looked up to see a waiter with a tray of drinks, asking for orders. He stiffened slightly as the man's dark face sparked painful memories of a hundred years ago. He coldly stared even as he registered the waiter's mortality and the impossibility of it being the same man.

"No thank you, sir," he said stiffly, his drawl thickening slightly at the stress of shutting out the disturbing recollection. He ignored the reproving looks received for his tone and stared down at the table; drawing out the set of cards he resorted to in times of stress. His dealing did not falter even as he inwardly winced at a well-known voice sounding next to his side.

"Thanks, Nathan. Tell Bill to watch the bar, I'm going to join these gentlemen for a while," Josiah said in a quiet rumble.

Feeling eyes fixed on him; he lifted his head and stared blandly at his former boss and co-worker. His lips quirked at the disappointed and frustrated glare aimed at him.

"You think it's funny to deceive your friends, Ezra?" Josiah asked quietly, an edge to his voice.

He tilted his head to the side and considered the bear of a man who had not hid his fatherly feelings from the "young man" he had taken under his wing and introduced to the Watchers. "No, Mr. Sanchez," he said solemnly. "I find it funny that you are disappointed in me for surviving."

"You consider lying and conning those who trust you to be surviving?"

"Yes," he said bluntly. "If I told everyone who has trusted me who I am, I would have long since lost my head. In normal circumstances, you never would have seen me again."

Frustration faded slightly from the weathered face and Josiah slid into a chair at the table and eyed him more thoughtfully. "So, why did you change your mind about disappearing?"

He hesitated, but finally shrugging, he answered, "Vin." He did not elaborate, leaving the men around the table to draw their own conclusions. Looking back down at his cards, he ignored the curious looks his one word answer engendered and refused to say anything more.

The stares turned to the quiet Vin lounging at his side, but the longhaired man just shrugged and grinned. Frustrated the others began to talk, ignoring him. Relieved, as that had been his intention, he slowly relaxed.

The dark waiter returned to the table with drinks and Josiah motioned him to join them.

"This is Nathan Jackson, my friends, my newest waiter and the latest addition to the Watchers. The only one I've let in on your little secret," Josiah said, directing a swift glance in Ezra's direction.

Staring down at his cards, Ezra barely heard Josiah's voice as he cursed his long memory and tried to convince himself that the man sitting across from him was not the man that starred in a few of his nightmares. If Immortals could have scars, his body would be covered with Nathan's twin's handiwork. Burying the recollections as deeply as possible, he looked up and nodded a neutral greeting. Apparently, it was not acceptable as he received hard looks from most of the people at the table, Nathan in particular.

Josiah frowned faintly himself but continued with the introduction, "Nathan is working here part-time as he studies to be a doctor; he is planning to be a neural surgeon."

Unable to control a wince this time as past and present collided, Ezra remembered screams as tests were conducted on his restrained body. Ethan Smitheson had been a doctor also, a doctor given a perfect experimental subject. Ezra had died dozens of times for dozens of reasons before he had escaped his restrains and choked the good doctor to death.

Knowing he needed privacy to bury his memories, he excused himself from the table and calmly evaded Josiah when he stood up in protest. Sliding through the crowd, he retreated to the restroom and stared into a mirror over the sink as he began rebuilding his composure. On a normal day, Nathan's appearance would be processed and then ignored. However, he found all of his emotions close to the surface due to the bonding earlier and shivered as unwanted memories clamored for attention.

A hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his recollections and, reacting automatically, he twisted and threw. Staring down at Vin sitting on the floor, he could not help the flicker of amusement that resulted from the astonished expression on the other man's face.

"Sorry, Vin, you startled me," he said, offering a hand to the rueful man.

"My own fault," Vin drawled with a laugh and pulled himself up. As soon as he was on his feet, he surrounded Ezra in a loose hug. "Bad memories?" he asked quietly.

Knowing Vin could feel his emotions; he simply nodded and laid his forehead against a strong shoulder, resting.

"It's been a long night, let's go to your place and get some rest," Vin suggested, rubbing the back of his neck gently.

"That would be wonderful," he agreed with a sigh.

Vin loosened his hold and pulled back far enough to look Ezra in the eyes. The world's oldest Immortal suddenly smiled wickedly and shifted his body slightly. He trailed a teasing hand through Vin's long hair and used the grip to pull the tempting mouth to his own. Catching the lower lip between his teeth, he nibbled slightly, laughing at the slight shudder he received.

Pulling away, Ezra strode to the door and paused, looking over his shoulder. "You'll need that rest, Mr. Tanner, because I have plans." He drawled the last word teasingly and was satisfied with the light flush that covered Vin's cheeks and the heated look in bright blue eyes.

Returning to the main room, his good mood faltered as he eyed the men in the corner of the room. In the good conscience that he ignored most of the time, he knew he could not leave matters as they were. Stopping beside the previously laughing and now conspicuously silent men, he opened his mouth only to stop as Nathan spoke before he could.

"Swallowed your prejudice enough to join us?" The black man's voice was cynical and the hard expression in his eyes caused Ezra's temper to flare.

"Prejudice, Mr. Jackson?" he said quietly, without a trace of Southern accent. "Do not gift me with perceived shortcomings." His lips quirked without humor, "It is your face that disturbs me, not your color." He stared flatly into uncomprehending dark eyes, shrugged and began to turn away. Josiah's frown and Chris' dark glare did nothing to halt him but he stopped at Vin's neutral look. The other man did nothing overt to change his mind but he could see a trace of entreaty in his eyes.

Sighing, Ezra turned back, faced the table, and could not prevent a small smile when Vin's arms slipped around him from behind. "I did not intend to be rude, Mr. Jackson. However, you could be the twin of someone from my past, someone who I do not have good memories of." Considering that a sufficient explanation and apology, he leaned back and enjoyed the feel of Vin's arms around him. Nathan stared for a long moment before reluctantly nodding.

Thoughtfully, Ezra eyed the men at the table, bemused at what had happened this night. Not for centuries had more than one person known his identity, now there were at least six, two mortals and four Immortals. Searching inside for the apprehension he knew he should feel, he was only faintly surprised not to find it. Even at this early a stage of their acquaintance, he could feel there was an eerie rightness about the seven of them. He had the sense of fate snapping into alignment and knew with a sense of fatality that more than just the connection with Vin had changed in his life this night.

Ezra the ancient conman, Vin the quiet warrior, Chris the dark but honorable fighter, Buck the ladies' man and devoted friend, JD the innocent optimist, Josiah the soothing voice of reason, and Nathan the healer. The seven of them would be magnificent together, he mused. Even as he waved goodbye and exited with Vin from the club, he knew this was not an ending but rather the beginning of a new life.

The Beginning