Joe sat back in the leather chair and looked at the two. "You are
young and so strong; you will, no are scaring most of the immortals
that have heard of you.  That makes you very high on the beheading
list.  I can assure you that is not a list you want to be on."  The
older man sighed.  "Look I like the two of you, Alex is very fond of
you and he will be really pissed if I screw this up.  I guess what I
am asking is,  what the hell just happened?"

     Illya turned a bright red and Napoleon started to
chuckle.  "Uh, you are human. What do you think just happened?"

     Joe smiled at him.  "I would say you got damn lucky!"  He
replied.  The blonde turned as red as a second degree burn and
Solo threw his head back and laughed till he was gasping.  "Uh yeah,
I certainly did that!  I think we may have made the lights go out."

     Dawson stared at him.  "You know what you did?  Do you have, no
of course you don't."  He sighed.  "Alexander is not going to be
happy!"

     Illya stared at him. "Why would Mr. Waverly be unhappy?"  Joe
shifted his gaze away from the other man.  "You two have pushed a
belief that all immortals thought was impossible to the very
believable."  He replied.

     "What belief?"  The dark haired agent asked.  Joe took a deep
breath and motioned them to be seated.  "This may take awhile."  He
said.  "It is a very long story."

     The sun had set and risen again before Joe left.  The slim
blonde looked at the other man.  "What do you think?  What he just
told us cannot be true.  Can it?"   Napoleon closed his eyes and
ran a tired hand over his face.  "Yeah, I think it can.  What I do
not understand is how could it not have happened before?"  Illya
looked at him as if he had just spoken in a language he did not
understand (since he spoke over fourteen in varying degrees of
expertise, that was something.)

    "I do not follow you."  He admitted.

      Solo smiled.  "Illya there have been immortals for at least
five thousand yes?"  The blonde shook his head in agreement.  "Then
do you really think that we could be the first?"  The younger man
stared at him in stunned silence.  "No, there was a prophetic
superstition that this could become true.  Which means that it was
believed even if it was not embraced."

     Illya swallowed deeply.  "Joe said that the watchers were
taking odds on Methos and Duncan.  Do you think that they were
supposed to be the ones?"  Napoleon smiled softly.  "No, we are the
ones to do this.  We have always been the ones to break new
grounds.  I do feel that Duncan and Methos if they choose to, will
follow.  They just have to decide to make the choice.   The other
man gave him a long look and a small nod.


     Joe looked at the three older men and gave his report.  Waverly
was impressed at the sharp, neat narrative.   "Do you think they.?"
He trailed off at the watchers shake of his head.  "Gentlemen,
either you try to kill them or you move forward.  That choice is of
course up to you."

     Duncan looked at the other two men.  "I for one would like to go
forward."  He looked to Methos.  "How do you feel?"

     Alexander sighed.   "I really hate to admit this, but I think
it is time to let what is to happen, happen.  Methos my friend go
forward in good health.  Duncan watch his back and take care of the
old goat."  The old man smiled, he looked at Methos.  "I lost a
great deal of money on the two of you."  He said as he walked out of
the room.

     Methos watched as he left the room.  "Were we that obvious?"

     "I do not know about you, but I'm sure I was." Duncan
muttered.  The ancient immortal touched his arm.  "No, you weren't
or I would have been in your bed hundreds of years ago."

     "You and Alexander were an item?"  The young dark haired mortal
asked.

     "No.  He was my teacher."  Methos answered. "What!  You are the
oldest living immortal.  How could he be your teacher?"  The
Scotsman demanded.

     "I am not the oldest living immortal, and we have more
important things to do.  Like going to my place and finishing
this discussion."


    Duncan shivered. "What happens then?"

     "I think we find out if we are of the chosen ones.  Then I
am going to make up for several hundred years.  No I am going to
make up for  those years no matter what!" The elder whispered.

    Solo snuggled against the warm body in his arms.  "You feel
wonderful."  He murmured.  With a soft sigh the other man turned in
his arms.  "At least we didn't cause any power outages."  The other
man chuckled.  "No you produced an outage all our own."  Napoleon
stated.  He didn't have to see the blush; he felt it from the body
heat.  Suddenly the lights started to flicker, with a sudden pop all
electricity went out over most of the East coast.

      "It seems as if we lost power.  Do you think we should call
Methos or Duncan to find out what is going on?"  Napoleon purred.

     "NYET!   You can't be that evil.  Wait till morning and then
call them.  They did seem to enjoy embarrassing us."

      "I always said you were a devious Russian, just what are you
hoping for?"  With a wide yawn the blonde replied.  "Two embarrassed
older immortals that we can tease about control."  He muttered as
sleep claimed him.

The End

---

This page is an unofficial site that exists only for the fun of it. All characters and situations from the television show "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." are property of Norman Felton and Warner Bros. Nothing ill is intended by this use of any television characters in these amateur efforts. Any fiction linked to these pages is the intellectual property of the amateur author who created it and is not presented here for profit.