Title: Orange You Glad We're Friends? (1/1)

Fandom/Universe: Castle & Highlander.

Rating: G
Characters: : Rick Castle & Methos (Adam Pierson)

Summary: Rick asks his friend, Adam Pierson, for a favor only an Immortal can grant.

Orange You Glad We're Friends?

"No!" Methos said.

"Come on, Adam," Castle cajoled. "It's not like it'd do any permanent damage."

"That is not the point; I am not your own personal murder victim."

"How about I freeze you for like an hour? I just want to get an idea of what shade of blue you'll turn."

Methos rolled his eyes, grabbed his scotch from the man's hand and plopped himself onto the couch. "My own damn fault for being friends with a mystery writer," he mumbled as he downed the drink.

"You love me!" Castle said as he sat down beside him, setting the bottle on the coffee table before sipping his own scotch.

"Hardly. Apparently, I need new friends; ones who don't want to kill me."

"I thought everyone wanted to kill you."

Methos mocked him with a silent laugh. "You're hilarious."

"Hey, it's your 'Game'," Castle quipped before picking back up with the murder requests. "You're right, freezing isn't all that interesting. Can I stab you? I always wondered exactly how that felt."

Methos just glared at him. "How about I stab you? Then you can find out exactly how it feels."

Castle shifted on the couch to look at him. "We've been friends a long time-"

Methos snorted.

"Ok, a long time for me and I've never asked before, but now you owe me."

"I'm quite sure that until this morning you were the one who owed me."

Castle waggled a finger at him. "Nope and I'm calling in the marker. You were damn lucky I recognized you in the morgue," Castle said. "I prevented the autopsy and helped you escape before Beckett arrived. That's worth a big, big favor."

"I've escaped from morgues on my own before. It's really not difficult."

"Sure, but I helped lose the paperwork and kept my partner from questioning your body's disappearance. You so owe me." Castle looked at him with big puppy dog eyes.

"Oh stop pouting, you look ridiculous." Methos sighed. When he'd causally told Castle after their escape that he owed him, Methos had no idea the writer would decide he wanted to play out every crazy death scenario he could think of with his own personal Immortal. "You are a damned infuriating man."

Castle waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah; so everyone says. Can I shoot you in the head – or is that not allowed?"

"And still you persist." Methos gestured for Castle to pour him another scotch.

"Yep." Castle smirked. Rick studied the glass as he filled it and Methos could see the wheels turning in his friend's mind. "How about poison? I have this chemical that's odorless and kills instantaneously. My research says it turns the victim orange. Isn't that cool?"

"You want to turn me orange." The man's imagination for murderous violence was starting to worry him.

"I need to know how it tastes. You know, see if I can slip it into something undetected."

"No," Methos said firmly as he eyed his scotch, suddenly deciding he wasn't thirsty anymore and set it on the coffee table. "I'll pass on the drink and the poisoning."

"Come on, it'll be fun." Castle leaned in smiling, giving Methos a little punch on the shoulder. "I've heard it's painless."

The man wasn't going to stop until he got his way. Methos quirked an eyebrow at his friend. "You sure it's painless?"

He'd known the man for over a decade and Castle had never asked Methos to play victim before, though he'd often picked the Immortal's brain for details he used in his novels. Methos was, after all, a killer and Castle delighted in that fact. Methos thought he could he trust him not to do something stupid or permanent until he revived, but the oldest Immortal wasn't one to take unnecessary risks.

Castle nodded, his smile broadening with the knowledge that he'd won.

"Fine, but I need to call a friend."


Methos gave Castle a feral smile. "Wouldn't an unsuspecting victim be a better test?"

Castle laughed. "I like the way you think."

Methos pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He felt no guilt at all in calling MacLeod. Hell, it was the Highlander's fault that he'd ended up at Castle's mercy in the morgue in the first place. "Mac," he said when the other Immortal answered. "I have someone you need to meet."

If all went well, Mac would be the one dead and orange on Castle's floor. This might actually be fun.