The Monopoly board was brought out and spread over the table that had just been cleared of dishes. Kronos became the Banker out of sheer stubbornness and a greed for fake bank notes. The game began and then ran smoothly for about half an hour before the first of the inevitable incidents occurred.
"MacLeod!"
Duncan glanced up from the board stubbornly. He eyed the man who had made the accusation.
"Yes?" he responded while pulling a slight pout. The man shot him an indignant if not somewhat disapproving look.
"You just knocked my eighteenth century hotel off the Scottish Isle," he said haughtily.
Duncan gave him a Look.
"Well did you ever stop to think about the poor people who lived there before you just decided to dump that monstrous mass upon it?" he asked accusingly. "Did you?"
The man's jaw dropped open.
"Pardon me?"
"You heard me," Duncan continued on. "I won't let you destroy someone else's home. Not this time! NEVER AGAIN!"
A few heads from around the ballroom turned to look at the spectacle Duncan was making of himself. The man who was the focus of Duncan's outburst was beginning to think, somewhat correctly, that they weren't talking about the same thing.
"My dear man, are we still talking about the Monopoly board?" he inquired.
Duncan gave him another Look, then stood up in a huff and stormed off while muttering to himself about the world's injustices. Kronos and Methos exchanged amused glances.
"Impressive," Kronos said after turning to the man. "Whenever I want to get rid of him he never goes. You managed to embarrass and get rid of him." Kronos gave the man a pat on the back. "I like you."
The man gave a confused smile.
"Thank you, but I must inquire: How did such a gentleman as you keep company with such a man as that."
Kronos grinned and kicked Methos in the shins to shut him up before he even spoke.
"MacLeod needs to control his temper, you know," he admitted to the man, with a twinkle in his eye. "Sets a bad example for the rest of us."
"I agree," the man replied. "He seems to have a tad bit of an anger problem, not to mention his psychological state."
Kronos grinned.
"And I agree with you, dear man." He pulled a resigned expression. "That poor boy. I noticed his problems from the day I first met him, but there was no hope for him." He shook his head sadly and only Methos noticed the glint in his eye. "I noticed it earlier than my Brother as I tend to be better adept at spotting the signs of psychological disturbances and violent behaviour."
A grinning Methos opened his mouth to speak, but was kicked into silence by his Brother once again.
The game continued on, until...
"KRONOS!"
Kronos looked over innocently at the lady who had made the accusation.
"Yes, my dearest?"
The lady huffed out exasperated noises before finally speaking.
"My dear man, did you just eat my counter?"
Kronos opened his mouth to speak but Methos got in first.
"I apologise for my Brother's behaviour. Once he's set his sights on something, he really doesn't like to lose it." Methos gave the lady an apologetic look while sipping on his sixth beer that the waiter had finally fetched for him. Kronos smiled brightly at the man.
"He's right. That's how I got him, you know," he continued on while pointing to his Brother. "Didn't have a chance, did you," he said proudly to Methos who just smiled slightly and nodded his head.
The game continued on, until...
"METHOS!"
Methos gave a credible impression of a startled chicken.
"Who, me?"
"Yes," replied the indignant man. "Did you just steal that counter?"
Kronos turned to Methos and gave him a mock look of disapproval.
"Brother," he said in shock. "I thought I taught you better than that."
Methos looked at him defensively.
"They got the library at Alexandria, they're not getting mine!"
Kronos grinned to himself, but shook his head once again.
"Really, Brother, how many times do I need to tell you. If you steal from someone they will just come after you with revenge in their heart. If you murder them, then steal what you want; you can't lose." He grinned cheerily.
The spokesman for the table rose from his chair while subtly signaling to a couple of nearby waiters.
"Gentlemen," he said to the two Brothers. "I think it is time you called it a night."
Kronos and Methos turned their heads to face the man.
"Did he just tell us to leave, Brother?" said Methos to Kronos, while taking another sip of his beer.
Kronos pondered the question for a few seconds before answering.
"Why yes, I fear he did." He cocked his head. "Shame, that. I was really beginning to like these people."
The waiters moved closer to the Brothers, and one reached for Methos' beer.
"I think you've had enough to drink, sir."
Silence followed.
Even Kronos backed a little away from Methos, and actually felt a mild twinge of sympathy for the wrath that was about the fall upon the poor unknowing waiter.
"Pardon me?" said Methos carefully and quietly. "Could you please repeat yourself?"
The waiter began to feel slightly vulnerable.
"I said I think you've had enough to drink."
More silence followed; this one more awkward than the last. Methos slowly rose from his chair.
"Let me see if I got this right," he said monotonously. "You want. To take. My beer. Away from me."
He looked to the waiter for acknowledgment. The waiter nodded, though reflexively backed away as he did. Methos cocked his head in thought.
"Ah. I see."
Then chaos erupted.
* * *
The events unfolded as follows, according to those that lived to tell the tale.
Methos grabbed a fork from the table and stabbed it into the hand the waiter was using to try and take his beer. Then he made a run for it. He paused long enough to made sure he had a firm grasp on his beer and made off towards the door. Unfortunately he never made it - that is, unfortunate for everyone who tried to stop him.
"AHHHHHHH!!!"
War cry expelled, he quickly paused to place his beer on a nearby table, gave it a quick pat of reassurance, and drew his sword from his coat. That stopped a few of the closer people. Kronos, meanwhile, paused to finish his meal which out of interest was not the honey covered peacock brains on a stick anymore, and drew his sword as well. He backed out slowly into the centre of the ballroom. Many of the men in the room drew their swords and advanced towards the two brothers, as coincidentally they had been in costumes which warranted the wearing of the sword and sheath. It was a real shame they didn't know how to use them.
Kronos looked at them and raised his sword.
"No one tells my Brother to surrender his beer."
He jumped forward and attacked the nearest group of men with full force. At the same time, about four waiters and five gentlemen attacked Methos with their swords and forced him to retreat up the staircase to the second level. Parry met strike and thrust met block as the two Brothers fought strongly against uneven odds. Methos glanced down to the main ballroom floor to monitor his Brother's progress against roughly twenty armed men. His eyes followed the action surrounding Kronos for a few seconds. Suddenly they widened with shock.
"NOOOOOOOO!!!"
The force and emotion that burst out from his lungs caused the entire room to freeze in surprise. He dropped his sword to the ground in shock, and its clatter onto the marble floor echoed sharply around the silent room.
"No," he whispered quietly, as though hardly believing his eyes. "No. Please, no."
Tears fell shamelessly down his cheeks as he fell to his knees, weak and defeated.
"Oh, God, NO!!!"
He looked down at the ballroom floor through blurred eyes, hardly strong enough to take in the traumatising sight of the broken carcass lying dead of the floor.
"Oh, my God," he spoke again while shaking his head. "Not my beer!"
Kronos glanced up at his Brother, while keeping his sword at the nearest man's neck.
"Don't worry, Brother. It might not be yours," he yelled supportively, though with not much hope. He edged over to the spilt mess that was lying amongst broken glass on the marble floor. He slowly leant over and studied the scene carefully. His eyes narrowed.
"Brother!" he yelled while raising his head. "It's not yours! It was a trick! Someone has stolen your real beer and replaced it with a..." He paused while shivering with disgust. "...mild brew," he finished monotonously while almost spitting the words out.
Everyone's eyes in the room rose as one to see Methos' reaction. It went as follows...
He rose slowly to a standing position without speaking a word. Quietly he glared around the room with eagle eyes, scouring every corner. He then raised his head.
"No one makes me cry over...light...beer," he began. "And no one steals my beer without losing their head! AHHHHHHH!!!!" he screamed at the top of his lungs while lunging at the entire group of men on the upper floor. Pushing half of them down the staircase, he halted in his tracks to glance down at Kronos. He raised his sword and pointed it at a table near the edge of the ballroom floor.
"CARPE CERVISIA!!!"
Kronos snapped his head around to quickly take in the sight of Methos' beer sitting innocently on the top of the accused table, and turned to make a dash for it. Just when he was barely a metre from rescuing the glass, about twenty men came crashing into his back and flattened him to the ground in one impressive thump. Methos, noticing that even his Brother was not strong enough to break free and rescue his beer without any help, turned to run down the staircase before remembering the thirty or so men blocking his way.
"That's right," he commented mildly.
Glancing around the landing again, he spotting a convenient rope which all ballrooms have - the one which seems to hold no other purpose than to swing down to the ground floor on.
"Yesss," he whistled under his breath.
Grabbing hold of the rope, he tucked his sword back into his coat and jumped from the balcony in one smooth movement. Completing an expertly done 180 degree turn on the rope while in mid flight, he managed to be facing upside down at just the exact moment he passed his beloved beer. Grabbing hold of it while clinging onto the rope with his thighs alone, he twisted again and righted himself and sent the rope spinning around to come crashing full pelt into the group of men surrounding his Brother. They were sent scattering and amidst the groans and clatters of metal that came from the injured men, Kronos' voice could be heard.
"Did I ever tell you that I really love how flexible you are, my favourite Brother?"
Methos grinned wickedly, downed his beer in one gulp, and hauled his Brother to his feet.
"I think I might have noticed back in the Bronze age when we were still living together... yessss," he replied cheekily.
Kronos reflexively kicked a man behind him before impulsively pulling his Brother towards him into a tango pose; firmly in a devilish mood after his brother's last comment. Methos gave him a surprised look but made no move to back away. Kronos looked over at the musicians who had stopped their music when the fight began.
"The Tango, please, maestro," he yelled, and gave them a meaningful glare to suggest that they might just regret it if they didn't start playing that instant. They took the hint.
The music began and the two Brothers began to tango in a direct line towards the door. Kicking and stabbing haphazardly on their way, both stopped in unison and turned to begin their dance back in the direction they started at the correct time in the music. A few more men fell to the ground as Methos and Kronos passed by, as various blades were flicked and thrust in time to the music. Once again they turned when the music cycled again, and off towards the door they danced. No men remained standing by the time they reaching the huge wooden doors to the ballroom, and they exited without a single challenge, just on the last note of the song.
Methos and Kronos stopped on the steps of the hotel and breathed in the crisp night air.
"Ahhhhhhh," breathed Kronos with satisfaction. "That was fun."
Methos grinned but then his expression changed to mild worry.
"Um, Brother," he began, "did you by any chance happen to have noticed MacLeod in all that fighting?"
Kronos shook his head but then his expression became indignant when he realised Methos' underlying question.
"You think I took advantage of the chaos to 'accidentally' kill him, don't you," he said, hurt. Methos gave him a Look.
"Well... I wouldn't put it past you," he admitted.
Kronos opened his mouth to defend himself but was interrupted by a giggle coming from the nearby shrubbery. Methos and Kronos exchanged glances.
"MacLeod...," they said in unison.
A head popped up from the bushes and a woman's stifled giggle could be heard. MacLeod gave them a confused look.
"Oh, hi," he said. "Are we going now?"
Methos looked at him strangely.
'Uh, MacLeod, how long have you been out here?" he asked innocently.
"Ever since I left the Monopoly game and this lovely lady comforted me in my time of need," he replied. Another giggle could be heard from the bushes, and Methos gave him a disapproving look.
"Um, are you ready to go?" Methos asked, his voice still full of innocence. This time MacLeod picked up on it and became instantly suspicious.
"Why?" he responded. "What did you two do?"
Methos and Kronos looked at each other in feigned shock.
"Why, I don't think he trusts us to behave ourselves," said Kronos. He gave MacLeod an accusing look. "If my memory serves me correctly, wasn't it you who caused the scene, and us who were blending into upper-class culture so effortlessly?"
Duncan looked sheepish.
"Oh yeah, fine," he mumbled. "I trust you, then. I'm sure you behaved yourselves," he admitted grudgingly.
Methos and Kronos exchanged conspiring looks.
"Yes," they replied in unison. "Charmingly."
THE END.
End Note: The Challenge bits used were:
-"They took the library in Alexandra, they're not taking mine!"
-"Carpe Cervisia!"
-"Mmmhmm...You should've seen me in those days, MacLeod, like honey-covered Peacock Brains on a stick"
-Methos and Kronos doing the Tango