"C'mon, MacLeod, you're lagging behind again!"

Methos looked at his companion in exasperation, impatiently tapping his foot.

"Can't you just tell me where we're going?" complained Duncan, eyeing his surroundings with ever-diminishing interest.

His eyes took in the inside of a cave, far below the surface of the jungle above them. They had trekked for hours, first to find to cave opening, which would have taken half the time if the oldest immortal wasn't stubborn enough to admit his memory might be failing him. Once they had found the entrance, they began the journey down twisting passageways, and deep, dark caverns, into the heart of the underground maze. Methos lead the way, obviously eager to show Duncan whatever was waiting at their journey's end. Duncan, on the other hand, was spending his time playing guessing games with the 5000 year old immortal, over what the end would reveal. By this stage, he was desperately hoping it was worth it.

"It's some long lost treasure, isn't it?" he probed hopefully. "Or some priceless artifact that we will get ridiculously rich from discovering..."

Methos looked at him incredulously.

"Why, MacLeod. That's very out of character for you." He paused, then cocked his head in thought. "You sound like me," he finished approvingly. "I wish you'd just give up on trying to guess, though, because you'll never work it out in a million years, and I'm not waiting for you to get that old."

Methos skipped ahead excitedly, ignoring Duncan's moans and groans of protest.

"Don't worry, MacLeod, we're almost there," the oldest immortal suddenly said. "What are you whingeing about anyway? You're meant to be the strong, resilient highland warrior - Don't tell me you can't even take a quiet stroll through a cave..."

His bait was caught, as he knew it would be, as Duncan exploded with barely contained exasperation and anger.

"What?!" he spurted out. "You call being attacked by huge slimy snakes, falling down ravines, nearly breaking my leg, and barely surviving a rock-slide, a QUIET STROLL?!"

Methos looked at him calmly. 

"I thought you liked de-evolving into the 'Rambo meets Fabio' look. It's not like this is the first time you've lost half your clothes, and turned into a wild mountain man." He looked over at Duncan, still baiting the poor Highlander. "Anyway, your leg would have healed if it broke, and I doubt a rock slide would have knocked your head off, so that's not a problem either..." Methos cocked his head cheekily. "Are you scared of snakes, MacLeod?"

Duncan looked away quickly, and started spurting out the beginnings of a weak comeback. Methos looked at his triumphantly.

"You are, aren't you! What about spiders, MacLeod? Do you have anything against hairy, creepy-crawly, eight-legged..."

"Shut up!" Duncan yelled, then quickly realised his mistake.

"Ooooooo! You do don't you!" cooed Methos. He changed his voice to a taunting sing-song tone. "Dunkie's scared of spiders...Dunkie's scared of snakes..."

"Shut op! I'm no' scared!" interjected Duncan, losing control of his accent momentarily. "And if you call me 'Dunkie' one more time, I'll start teasing you about your fashion choice when you were Death..."

Methos looked at him sharply, and wisely decided he could continue his taunting some other time.

"OK, Chop chop, MacLeod. It's just around this corner...I hope."

"What's just around this corner?" inquired Duncan innocently, hoping to catch the oldest man off-guard.

"Wait and see, you impatient Scot," replied Methos, and jumped around the corner with a squeal of delight.

"Oooooo! It's still here! Goody! I was hoping it hadn't disappeared through the passing of time!"

Duncan turned the final corner to see Methos kneeling in front of something written in carved patterns in the stone wall. 

"Please tell me that's a description of where the treasure is hidden," begged Duncan with futile hope.

"Nonononono! Look, MacLeod. Look at it," pleaded Methos, pointing stubbornly at the ancient writing on the wall.

"I can't read it, Methos," said Duncan. "It's obviously a little before my time."

"Oh, I know," replied the 5000 year old immortal. "Do you want to know what it translates to?"

Duncan gave him a 'Well, actually, I trekked for miles through dangerous wilderness just for the fun of it' look. Methos wisely decided to continue his tour guide presentation. He turned to Duncan happily.

"It's written in a language lost many centuries ago. These are the sacred caves of the Earth God, and only priests of the highest rank were allowed to enter them."

"You, I suppose,' interrupted Duncan. Methos grinned.

"Yeah, me, of course. Anyway, it's kind of difficult to translate, but here goes...Loosely, the nearest translation I can make to modern day language and phrases, would be..." He looked up cheekily, after pausing dramatically.

" 'METHOS WAS 'ERE '01 AD' "



THE END.