"Poor Methos."

Methos buried his head in a pillow on the bed, and pretended he didn't hear anything.

"Poor, poor Methos," came the voice, a little more insistently.

Methos peeped an eyelid open and saw the figure of Duncan standing by the bed with a huge grin on his face. He became instantly suspicious, but decided his best move for the moment was to pull the sheets up over his head, and hope the grin and its owner would go away. 

"Poor, poor, *pooooor*..."

"OK!" Methos threw the sheets back and stared at Duncan with an exasperated expression. "What do you want, or should I ask, WHY am I 'poor' all of a sudden?"

Duncan adopted a puppydog expression, and chewed at his bottom lip. 

"WHAT, MacLeod?" Methos nearly yelled.

"I was just wondering....Have you ever had a birthday party before?...."

Methos stared open-mouthed. 

"WHAT? You woke me up to ask me that!"

Duncan continued staring at him with a pleading expression, until finally Methos gave in.

"OK, MacLeod. I don't know why you're asking as it's a stupid question. You know I don't know when I was born, so how could I possibly know *when* to celebrate my birthday?"

"Oooohhhh...Poor, poor Methos!" Duncan chanted again, with extra feeling.

"Why 'poor, poor Methos', MacLeod?" Methos questioned. "Are you saying that because I don't know when my birthday is?"

"No," Duncan replied matter-of-factly. "I'm saying it because you've never had a birthday party that you can remember. That's sooooooo sad." He paused as if in thought. "Hey, Methos..." 

"Yeah?" Methos muttered warily.

"Do you want one? I mean, have you ever thought about what it'll be like to have one..." Duncan inquired a little too innocently.

"What are you up to, MacLeod?" Methos sighed. "You know you're terrible at keeping anything from me, so you might as well just tell me." 

In response, Duncan went over next to Methos, and tugged the rest of the sheets off him, motioning for him to get up. 

"Nup. I'm not moving until you tell me what you're up to,' said Methos, desperately clinging onto a tiny corner of the one remaining sheet that Duncan hadn't reached. Pulling more and more of the sheet back onto himself, he glared at the Highlander.

"Methos....Come on!" Duncan urged.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"I don't have to if I don't want to."

"Yes, you do."

"Make me," Methos retorted, then realised that the Highlander probably could, considering that Duncan was built like a warrior and he was built like a lanky grad student.

'Damn this body. It should be that immortals get stronger with each year they're alive,' he thought. 'Then we'll see who's the boss.'

Methos was correct in his prediction of who was stronger, as within half a second Duncan had managed to rip the remaining sheet from Methos' hands and had proceeded to drag the oldest living immortal out of bed.

"MacLeod! Let go of me!" yelled Methos, to no avail. 

"If you stop struggling, I will," replied Duncan stubbornly.

They glared at each other in a contest, which, if years of practice counted, Methos should have won. Unfortunately for him though, Duncan's eyebrows unnerved him and he gave in. 

//Phew// thought Duncan. //The way he was looking down that nose of his was starting to make my eyes water.//

Methos was manhandled gently over to his clothes, even though he protested that he wasn't going to try and run for his life. After he had dressed, Duncan guided him to the doorway of the bedroom, and halted him there.

"You didn't answer my question. Have you ever wanted a birthday party?" he asked.

Methos shot another suspicious stare at him.

"You didn't explain why you wanted to know. So you first."

"I asked first, and anyway, it's too late now," Duncan replied firmly.

"What?..." Methos started asking, but was pushed through the door into his favourite area of the dojo - the one which contained the couch and the beer. He stood face to face with absolutely nothing unusual, which surprised him as he had presumed there was something secret going on in there.

"Huh?" he mumbled.

He turned to face the unhelpful Highlander who was once again grinning like an idiot.

Then suddenly...

"Surrrrrrpriiise!!!"

From behind various hiding places around the room jumped Joe, Amanda and Richie, two of which seemed to be having a stupid grin contest with Duncan. The third, that is, Richie, had an expression normally used by young people when stuck with the problem of amusing the elderly, the senile, or the delusional. In other words - just another stupid grin. Methos rubbed his sleep-filled eyes in some last futile hope that they were all just an illusion.

"Damn," he muttered, when they didn't disappear.

"What?" Duncan asked with a worried look, while Richie changed his expression to one similar to his last, though now expressed that he was definitely faced with senility but would try to amuse the man anyhow.

Duncan turned Methos around to face him, and looked at him with an expectant grin.

"Do you like it? Were you surprised?"

Methos looked into those wide brown puppydog eyes and took in the almost innocent grin, and realised there was only one answer he could give. Well, only one answer which wouldn't make him seem cold-hearted, or end up with a sword at his neck, judging by Amanda and Richie's warning expressions.

"Yes, MacLeod. I am surprised, and I do love it. Thank you," he replied grudgingly.

"Phew," expressed Duncan, with obvious relief. "I thought that maybe you would be annoyed that I woke you up and then surprised you - both of which I thought you probably don't like."

Methos gave him a 'then why on earth did you do it?' look, which went right over Duncan's head. Then a thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Why today? Why did you pick today of all days to be my birthday? Or isn't this a permanent thing?" he asked Duncan.

"Don't you know?" Duncan answered, slightly hurt. "This is the same day one year later that I first met you - you know, the day I realised you weren't a myth and were really alive. So in that context it makes sense."

"Ahhhhhhh...I see...How thoughtful of you to remember," Methos replied carefully. "Though shouldn't this be an anniversary, then?" he added cheekily.

"Oh," Duncan said, his brow crinkling with worry that he'd missed something. "Well, maybe we can have another surprise for you..."

"Nononononono!" interjected Methos quickly, to the amusement of the other three occupants in the room. "That's OK, MacLeod. One surprise will do."

He took in his surroundings once again as after the surprise had been revealed, party decorations and food had started appearing around the room. Something in the corner of a coffee table looked suspiciously like a little, pink, toy cup - saucer included.

"Oh, no," Methos muttered under his breath. "One of those parties." 

Duncan smiled widely and proceeded over into the kitchen to bring the remaining food trays to the table in front of Methos. There was, as well as the fairy bread, frankfurts with little flags sticking out of them which Duncan explained was a flag for every country he knew Methos had lived in. There was also jelly, little cakes, gingerbread, and assorted lollies. The beverages provided were soft drinks, though Methos suspected that some of the bottles contained beer as even Duncan in a slightly schizophrenic mood knew there were some things Methos could not live without.

Something on a plate suddenly caught Methos' attention.

"What on earth...," he exclaimed, then went over for a closer inspection. "No, way. You didn't!" He gave Duncan an incredulous look. Duncan misinterpreted Methos' reaction and stood with a proud grin on his face.

"I made them myself. Do you like?"

"Ahhhhhhh...They're original. You put a lot of thought into them, I see," he replied carefully.

"Thanks. I thought you'd like them."

On the plate in front of Methos were the gingerbread. Not unusual in itself, but the shapes they had been baked in were. There were gingerbread versions of Duncan's eyebrows, Methos' nose, little swords, decapitated heads, Duncan's skivvies, and Methos' feet, to name but a few. Methos picked up a credible replica of his nose and looked at it critically.

"I thought you're supposed to be nice to people on their birthday, or at least draw attention to their better features."

"Sorry, but your nose is rather distinct," replied Duncan as politely as possible.

Methos bit forcefully into his nose.

"I think that they're cute," supplied Amanda as she smiled sweetly at Duncan. "I also think I'll have a skivvy. How about you two?" she directed to Richie and Joe.

"Um, I'll take a decapitated head, thanks," said Richie.

"Kids," Methos muttered disapprovingly under his breath.

"And you, Joe?" Amanda asked the Watcher.

Joe surveyed the selection, and finally pointed at a miniature sword.

"This one will do, thanks Amanda, as I'm the only person in here who doesn't already own one," he said with a smile.

Everyone took a seat around the main table and dug into the gingerbread supply. Methos was offered the entire couch to sprawl across, as it was his designated birthday.

"Well, we're all now supplied with the gingerbread, but how about the drinks?" asked Methos, five minutes later. "I could probably do with the contents of any soft drink container which has browny-gold liquid and smells like beer." 

Duncan grinned and produced a Solo container that wasn't even pretending to contain its correct yellow liquid. Methos grinned back contently, until Duncan reached for a little pink plastic cup and poured some in. He then offered the result to Methos, who took the handle rather delicately in his thumb and index finger, feeling rather embarrassed. Amanda, Joe and Richie smirked at the man's discomfort, until they too were handed little cups.

"Oh, I nearly forgot about the birthday cake!" Duncan suddenly shrieked. He jumped up from his chair and ran to the fridge in one swift movement. Methos' eyes followed his progress warily, desperately hoping that the cake had nothing pink on it. Meanwhile, Duncan had produced a box which obviously contained the cake. He brought it over with great ceremony to Methos. Placing it down in front of the suspicious man with the lid still closed, he burst into a chorus of 'Happy Birthday' while motioning to the other three guests to join in. Methos slid further and further off the couch, and finally underneath the table in embarrassment. Unfortunately for him, Duncan caught him under his arms and hauled him back up before he slipped from view. 

"Woah, losing control of yourself in your old age, are you?" taunted Richie, knowing full well Methos' real intentions. "Maybe we should have bought him a wheelchair which we could have strapped him into, to prevent any unfortunate accidents." 

Methos glared at the young immortal, but chose not to comment.

"Hey, Richie, it's his birthday. Be nice," scolded Duncan disapprovingly.

"But, Mac...."

"Richie..." Duncan replied warningly.

"Oh, fine. I'm sorry, Methos. I shouldn't have brought attention to your little problems," he said evilly to the oldest immortal, then sulked when Duncan shot him another warning glance.

"Oh, I forgive you, Richie," retorted Methos, with an impish spark in his eyes. "Just to show how forgiving I am, I'll never mention or make fun of the eighties-style fluorescent green and some other hideous colour jacket that you wore when you first met MacLeod. You know, the one which looked like something an astronaut would wear?"

Richie looked as if he would burst out in anger, not only at Methos, but also at Duncan for telling the oldest immortal about that outfit. Then suddenly calmed down and developed a suspiciously cool composure.

"Yeah, well, that probably wasn't my best look. Though that was nothing compared to the stage I went through where I wore a white tunic and pants which were tucked into knee-high boots, and this kind of armoury, leathery vest thing, and had this shocker of a hair cut which for some reason I thought looked good with blue facepaint....No...Hang on...That was you!" 

He sat back with a mock shocked expression, which caused Amanda and Joe to stifle laughter. Methos looked to Duncan to solve the matter, but snorted indignantly when he saw even the Highlander was desperately trying to disguise a grin.

"Really, Methos," started Amanda. "I don't know why you thought that outfit would be something Death would wear. I thought the idea of 'Death on a horse' was to terrify people."

"Well, actually, *that* sight would terr..." Richie started.

"Richie..." Duncan interjected warningly, while still trying to gain control of his grin.

Methos began to feel ganged up on and attempted an expression he'd seen Duncan use so expertly when caught in similar situations. 

He tried 'The Pout'. 

Then 'The Puppydog Look', just to make them feel doubly guilty. 

Luckily it worked as his talent for manipulating every muscle in his body into unnatural positions, which he usually only used in The Slouch or The Sprawl, transferred nicely into his face.

"Oh, I'm sorry Methos," said Amanda who caved in first.

"Yeah, so am I. It is your birthday after all," admitted Joe.

Duncan, who had some kind of copyright on those expressions, considered mentioning that, though realised that it would probably back-fire on him if his secret was found out. Also, he thought that he should be nice, considering he was the one that had organised the whole be-nice-to-Methos 'Do' they were currently experiencing.

"OK, I'm sorry too, Methos. Here have another gingerbread," Duncan said, while offering him the gingerbread version of his feet.

"I think I'll wait to see what my birthday cake is. Thanks all the same," replied Methos grudgingly, thought not too harshly as he was still quite honoured at the effort that Duncan had put into his birthday.

"Ah, yes. The cake. Sorry," said Duncan apologetically. 

Methos gave him a dismissive gesture and a warm smile, which cheered the Highlander up. Duncan then proceeded to open the lid of the box containing the cake and turned it around to show Methos.

"Surprise! I made it myself. Do you like it?"

A few seconds passed while Methos took in every inch of the decorations.

"Wow," he stated finally. "That's actually pretty impressive." He tried to keep any tell-tale signs of surprise out of his voice, so he didn't offend the Highlander.

"Wow," he said again. "I love it. Thanks. It means a lot to me that you put so much effort into it," he added sincerely. 

He took in the decorations again. The cake was covered with the same little flags which were stuck in the frankfurts, each one bringing back memories. The actual icing was in the credible shape of Methos, surrounded by the portraits of Duncan, Amanda, Joe and Richie. The words which curved around the scene read: 'Happy birthday from your loving friends forever'. Methos peered closer after realising that there was some even smaller writing underneath that. It read: 'Well, except for Joe, unless he turns out to be one of us'. He grinned and turned to Joe.

"Well, do you reckon we should kill you to find out whether you are an immortal or not? Or would that be too risky?"

Joe smirked, laughter in his eyes.

"Um....I think I'll probably take the chance of not knowing for a while longer, if you don't mind. Anyway, I know who my parents are so it's not likely."

"Still, wouldn't it be cool," insisted Richie. "But if we don't kill you to find out, and you are an immortal, then you might just be the first immortal who has ever died a natural death." 

"I wonder if that still applies?" pondered Amanda. "Or does he have to have a violent death? I can't remember."

"Hey, you guys," interrupted Joe. "Would you stop plotting a violent death for me, because it's ruining my appetite."

"Sorry, Joe," replied Duncan, laughing. "But really, I thought you as a Watcher would be interested in finding out something like this." He settled into serious mode again. "I wonder if it means that if a person has the ability to become immortal, but was charmed enough not to die before their time, that they never find out and the gift is wasted. Interesting, huh."

"Well, if they're fated to become an immortal, then fate probably insures that they die before their time," stated Methos, matter-of-factly. "Otherwise, what's the point if they never knew?"

There was silence while they all absorbed that discussion.

"OK. That'll do," Methos suddenly blurted out. "You're all ruining my birthday. We're meant to be having a fun, non-intellectual time, by order of me. And I'm old enough to make that order worth taking seriously."

"Good idea. Let's eat because I for one am starving," admitted Richie.

"Hey, hang on a sec," interrupted Methos, and pushed the boy's hand away from the cake. " Do we have to eat it?" 

This question was greeted with confused looks.

"Um...Methos...It's a cake..." Richie started.

"Yeah, I know what you're going to say, but it's just that MacLeod put so much effort into it and it's one of the most meaningful things anyone have ever done for me in all my five thousand and something years. I wouldn't want to spoil it. It seems kind of blasphemous to just stuff it down our mouths."

He looked pleadingly at everyone in the room until finally they all gave in.

"But Methos, if we don't eat it, what will we do with it? It'll eventually go off, you know," supplied Joe, helpfully.

This baffled everyone and they all went into their own private universes to contemplate a solution.

"Hang on," said Duncan suddenly. A grin spread across his face. "This might sound a little far-fetched, but here goes. Joe, tell me, what do you reckon would happen if immortal blood was added to something like...say a cake, for example? Do you reckon it'll become immortal and preserve itself?"

"Um...Mac...I think that's vampires, not us that might work with," said Richie slowly.

"But why not us, Richie? It's kind of the same principle after all. I mean with vampires, they have to die a mortal death before becoming immortal and the same applies to us. So there are similarities. I reckon it's worth a try."

Gaping mouths greeted this, then suddenly everyone in the room broke into huge grins. 

"Joe, you still haven't answered me," Duncan continued on. "Do you reckon it'll work?"

"Immortalise a cake. Interesting," Joe answered, trying to stop himself from laughing. "You know, I don't see why it shouldn't. Yeah, let's give it a try. I suppose we could inject it with some of Methos' blood..."

"Hey! Why me?" Methos complained indignantly.

"Well, it is your birthday. *And* your birthday cake, so it only seems fitting for you to be the one to give it eternal life," Joe replied cheekily.

"Oh, OK. Bring logic into this, why don't you..."

Methos rolled up his sleeve and Duncan produced a syringe out of a nearby drawer. This motion received some worrying looks.

"Boy Scout, remember?" Duncan said innocently.

"Don't even try to convince me that you put that there on the off chance that one day we might want to immortalise a cake," said Methos, cynically.

"Be prepared for anything. Isn't that my motto, Methos?"

"More like: 'I'm a secret steroid addict, and the Boy Scout thing is my cover'. Explains the muscles," muttered Methos, though not loud enough for Duncan to hear as he knew the highlander would take offence. Meanwhile, Duncan had come over to Methos as was in the process of drawing blood from his arm. He then went over to the cake and injected the contents of the syringe into it.

"You know, that's a bit disgusting if you think about it. Won't the blood just soak through or maybe stay in a gloggy mess in the middle?" asked Richie.

"Actually, I think it'll probably just take on the form of the cake's ingredients," suggested Amanda, with a glance to Joe for confirmation.

"Don't look at me. This is not exactly what we study at Watcher School," Joe answered.

Five minutes silence followed this, as every person in the room stared at the cake, wondering what was going to happen. At first nothing did, then suddenly the cake developed a new glow. Its icing looked shinier and the actual cake looked more full and fluffy.

"Wow," gaped everyone.

"Oh, my god. I think it actually worked," said Joe, incredulously. 

"Congratulations everyone," stated Methos. "You should all feel honoured at being the first people ever to witness the immortalisation of a double layered sponge cake."

More silence followed this, then suddenly, one by one, everyone broke into huge grins and finally unstoppable laughter.

"Do you reckon we should give it a gingerbread sword?" suggested Amanda, through fits of giggles, which set everyone else into near seizures of laughter.

Hang on a sec," said Methos suddenly. "What if it becomes mutant, or something? Or we don't want it anymore - not that I reckon that'll ever happen," he added quickly, so Duncan wouldn't be insulted. 'But my point is - how do you kill it?" 

Another silence. Then another. Suddenly Richie spluttered out into giggles again, leading the rest into another five minutes of unstoppable laughter.

"I don't know, Methos," replied Duncan. "Maybe you cut off its top layer of something."

More giggling followed this.

"Maybe you can't," began Joe in a serious, deep tone of voice. "Maybe it's a new generation of immortal that'll eventually rule the world: The fluffy, icing shooting, sponge monsters," he suggested, while tears of laughter streaming down his face.

"OK, OK, everyone," yelled Methos. "I might be immortal but I'm going to die from laughter soon, which might not be the worst death, but still I might pass on it if you all don't mind." 

The others nodded in agreement, wiping tears from their own eyes. Silence fell as they all sat staring at the immortal cake before them. 

"Uh..." said Methos, after a moment. "The cake... It's kind of scaring me now."

The others, after sobering up, nodded their agreement. Sure, it was funny at first, but there were some things you just didn't mess with. Nature was one, and cakes were the other. Suddenly the layers of sponge looked all the more alive in a very unnatural way.

"Uh..." muttered Joe, standing slowly from his seat. "No one mentions this again. I don't want the Watchers finding out about me playing Frankenstein with the birthday cake."

"Technically, it wasn't you that did it," commented Amanda, as she too rose and slowly picked up her coat. "It's Methos' blood. His son."

"Uhhh..." came the reply from everyone in the room.

As one they all started backing towards the door. 

"Maybe it's time I found a new place," said Duncan, clinging onto Methos' arm desperately. "No need to ever come back here again."

"Yeah," muttered Richie in agreement as he pushed against the door. "I hear there's great views in all those places that aren't here."

The all nodded and as one tried to dash madly through the small opening of the doorway. It took a few seconds and a lot of girlish screaming, but they all finally went crashing through and out onto the landing. It was survival of the most desperate from that point, and soon the entire block was cleared within record time. 

*********

Back above the Dojo, the cake opened its cream-puffed eyes and took in its surroundings for the first time. It breathed, feeling the sugar pounding in its body and the icing lighting up its brain. Then it noted the complete lack of other occupants in its birthing room. 

"Daddy...?"



THE END.