Well, Methos couldn't help but think. I guess that explains how he survived under the ice all those years. Damn.
He was spotted, but not recognised, and damn it, he knew that look of vaguely pained mild confusion hiding under the USO smile. He'd seen it all too often over the millennia, and damn it, fuck everything. Cursing the Fates, the Norns, and a half-dozen other deities for good measure, he crossed the street, and headed down the block toward, of all people, Captain America.
MacLeod would never believe this. Joe would never believe this.
"Hello, I'm Adam Pierson, and you and I need to have a chat, Captain Rogers."
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He was spotted, but not recognised, and damn it, he knew that look of vaguely pained mild confusion hiding under the USO smile. He'd seen it all too often over the millennia, and damn it, fuck everything. Cursing the Fates, the Norns, and a half-dozen other deities for good measure, he crossed the street, and headed down the block toward, of all people, Captain America.
MacLeod would never believe this. Joe would never believe this.
"Hello, I'm Adam Pierson, and you and I need to have a chat, Captain Rogers."