Night Wanderings by Rhi
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Author's Notes:
Henry is from the TV and book series, Blood Ties; Darius and Methos are from Highlander. Written for Halloween for Devo, and for Crossovers100 prompt #13 -- yellow. No, I don't think there'll be more of this, but if there is, it'll turn up in the usual places and linked to this.

Henry Fitzroy slammed the door shut and locked it ahead of the sun's ascent over the horizon… and only then realized he could hear a heartbeat nearby.

He turned toward the sound, fangs repressed only by a strict effort of will -- it had not been a pleasant night, evading whatever those creatures were -- and found himself looking down the runnels of a broadsword. The man holding it kept it steady enough that the faint candlelight from the altar didn't waver along the steel.

Henry just looked at him and said flatly, "You're not the priest." He could feel a draft against his skin where his coat was torn, chilly where some of his (wasted) blood was drying. The high, faint hunting horns were fading now, almost in time with the sun's coming. It was something to consider. Later.

The stranger tilted his head at Henry's denial, amusement in his eyes -- an amusement too subtle and layered for his apparent youth. He was breathing, but he didn't carry the faint scent of herbs and forest Henry's pursuers had all had. Not a vampire, possibly not in league with Henry's hunters. Possibly.

What the stranger said was, "You're right. I'm not. But it's not time for Matins yet."

Henry looked at the blade which hadn't moved, then back at the man facing him. "Who are you to bar free entry into the sanctuary?"

That got a slow, edged smile, one that might have been a warning while Henry was still mortal. But he sheathed the sword at the same time. "Touché."

Sandals slapped on the stone and Henry tensed until he heard wool rustling against itself, and clicking beads, and another, familiar heartbeat. "Adam, what are you--" Darius paused, looking Henry over with the same swift and skilled evaluation that Henry's father had possessed. "Henry. Come in, be welcome. Let's get you below and fed, shall we? Adam. If you'd fetch hot water?"

"Another of your strays, Darius?"

Adam said it at the same time Henry did. Henry laughed to hear his thoughts echoed so; Adam apparently took it as reassurance. He left in the direction of Darius' room, where there'd been a hot plate for tea the last time Henry was here.

Henry ignored him for the moment to follow Darius through the concealed entrance to the basement, careful to dodge the condensation on the northern wall -- the holy well had never been something he cared to test.

Darius lit the candles around the room and said gently, "It's not much of a bed, but it's safe from the day. I'll just get the water and chase Adam back out."

Henry damned his upbringing, and the lack of time before sunrise, and the years of conversations with this priest. "I'm being hunted, Darius."

"Yes, I'd noticed. Can they cross holy thresholds?" Darius waited patiently for the answer, green eyes calm, pulse unchanged.

"I don't think so, but I'm not sure." Henry shrugged, carefully now. "Running water slows them down, too."
"Ah." Darius came back from the stairs. "If you'd turn around...?"

Henry turned, slowing when Darius murmured some unfinished word, and felt the gentle tug at his shirt and coat. When he came around again, Darius was holding a leaf between thumb and fingers, mouth tight with as much distaste as he'd ever permitted himself to show Henry. "You've annoyed the Lords and Ladies, Henry?"

Henry looked at it, eyes narrowing at the brilliant yellow of an autumn aspen leaf in Paris' spring. "Apparently so. I wonder how I did that?"

Darius just nodded. "Think it over, if you can during the day. I'll go dispose of this in holy water and be back to clean your wounds while you sleep. I'll feed you come the evening, and then we'll sort out how to appease them."

"And your friend?" Henry asked, forcing the question out ahead of the sunrise.

"He needs safe haven, too." Darius cut to the heart of Henry's worry, precise and quick before the sun. "He cannot be safe here if you are not."

It wasn't much comfort, but Henry took it down into darkness with him, and hoped to wake again to candlelight.