Fantasy Highlander Part 2
"NO!" Methos fumed.
"Methos..." Duncan tried again.
"I said no. Those things are not going to be anymore stable than they were the last time I was in one. You want to cross an ocean, find me a flying carpet." Methos spat stubbornly.
The five new heroes stared at the dirty docks filled with grisly sailors and fish filled barrels. Several ships were docked in this evening, but it was the Rose that caught their attention. Amanda had said her "divine" dream stated their answer would be in the form of a flower. And so here they were, seeking passage on the dinky caravel called the Rose.
"You know Mac. I am getting sick and tired of this guy's attitude. I didn't just spend half an hour talking to a guy name Ulg who has never heard of toothpaste to get passages we aren't going to use." Richie's face began to turn a shade darker than his hair.
"I am with the kid on this one MacLeod. We spent way too much to change our minds now." Joe scratched his head lightly. Wooden boats were fun to ride in a theme park, but to cross and ocean in one. He wasn't so sure.
"Who is we?" Methos demanded. "You all set me up. Take Amanda to go have a drink Methos. While the rest of us get the rooms. I think you forgot to mention the overpriced ticket to hell!"
"Calm down. You are drawing attention." Duncan urged soothingly.
Methos sneered and opened his mouth to say something else but was cut off by Richie. "I say leave him."
"I'm with him." Joe conferred. "Let the baby cry with another group."
Amanda nodded. "No one said he has to go too..."
"What!" Methos gaped in surprise. "You... You can't just leave me!"
"Oh yeah, says who?" Richie challenged, pulling up his green tights slightly.
"Methos we are no..." Duncan tried to interfere but Amanda covered his mouth quickly.
"Methos dear, if you want to stay and make new friends..." She stifled a giggle as a large, hairy man walked by and spit something out onto the wooden dock. "Be our guest."
"But..." Methos' eyes narrowed. "You never ditch your party members behind. It is just not done."
"There is just one problem with that Old Man." Richie smirked.
"Yeah, what's that?" Methos clenched his book tightly.
"I don't read very much. How about you Joe?"
"Nope. I sing.. Amanda?"
"I like the pictures."
"MacLeod!" Methos shouted outraged.
"Yeah, how about you Mac?" Richie urged.
Duncan looked at Methos and then cracked a smile. By gods, it might actually work. "Only the philosophical studies."
Methos' mouth dropped open. "But..."
"It's unanimous. Immortal heroes do not have to follow the rules of this Game. Anyone up for a beer?" Richie offered lightly pulling out his money pouch.
The four of them walked towards the Red Lady briskly. Duncan had an urge to turn around and make sure Methos was following. If not, the game would end here and now.
"Just wait a minute Duncan." Amanda purred.
"Just a little longer." Joe reassured.
"Joe..." Duncan had his doubts now.
"Fine!" A familiar voice piped up. "If you insist, I will come with you after all." Methos shoved past them and stormed into the inn angrily.
Amanda giggled happily. "I told you it would work. Beautiful, guys. Do you think he has been this easy for very long?"
Duncan couldn't help but grin. "Not likely considering his former occupations and 'I haven't live this long by thinking of anyone but myself' motto."
The others nodded and entered the establishment. Duncan had been in old wooden taverns before, but nothing quite like this. The place was filled with old furniture and the stench of stale brew. Sailors and other roughens moved about, moving from brawl to brawl. The floors were covered with the thick film of cups being too full and general distaste for the food.
"Man! I have seen dives and I have seen *dives*." Richie moved aside in time to let a rather large looking bald man fall flat on his face.
"Duncan. This place is awful. Are you sure this is the only one we can afford?" Amanda grabbed onto his arm and squeaked when her robes got snagged by someone's foot.
Joe pivoted quickly to keep his lute from being crushed from a flying chair.
Duncan sighed. "This is the best we can do. All our gold went to the passage of the ship. Maybe the rooms upstairs are better..."
Richie threw him one of his best yeah right looks.
Just then Methos navigated through the crowd and up to them. "I thought we had rooms booked. But since someone neglected that part of the deal, I snagged the last two."
The three men glared at Amanda who coughed lightly. "Come on guys. I truly thought this was the wrong place. You didn't actually expect me to come here on my own?" Her bottom lip formed a beautiful little pout which was cut short when a small, wiry guy with deep black hair and eyes and a long nose walked by her and swatted her butt. Amanda instantly scowled and drew her blade. Before they knew what as happened, the sound of steel sliding out of leather filled the room.
"Shit!" Richie exclaimed drawing his own sword. The rest, except Methos, followed the same suit. Soon they were the center of attention.
"Come her you little twurt. I'll teach you..." Amanda was cut off by Duncan's hand on her shoulder. "Not now." She hissed. "I am busy."
"Thanks to you, we all will be very soon." Methos murmured lowly, beginning to active one of his arcane arts.
"Oh my." Amanda looked around the room.
"Uh, maybe you should apologize." Joe suggested. "You guys maybe Immortal, but I sure as hell am not. And who wants to the be the first to see just how intact your immortalities are here?"
"Apologize! Me!?." Amanda fumed. "I think not. He accosted me. Come on Duncan. We can take them easily. Earth or not, we are probably older than everyone in this measly little town combined. Oh and if that doesn't work... think about my honor here."
Duncan shook his head. Why the hell couldn't they have a day of peace anyway. He glanced at Methos, who had that strange glint in his eye when Amanda spoke of her honor. The Highlander could almost here the "as if." Richie was ready to fight, still driven by the vitality of youth. Joe could fight if he had to. Then another thought entered his mind. This world was filled with magic, and strange rituals. The very idea of their bodies being used in some sort of sacrifice or other obscenity sent chills up his spine. Having them all killed at once, would not be a good idea at all.
"No harm was done. Leave it at that." He drew his deepest and strongest voice to speak his command.
The others glared at them for a moment and then seemed to loose interest.
"We could have taken them." Richie insisted, kicking at the ground unhappily.
"Well you certainly didn't teach them a lesson, but you can make it up to me upstairs." Amanda grinned mildly glancing from Richie, to Joe, to Methos, and back to Richie again. "You can join us if you want honey."
Methos cut off any reply the young man could offer. "Oh, I don't think so. There are two rooms in this joint and if you think I am going to let you and MacLeod occupy one to yourselves... you must be the world's oldest idiot." The voice was cold, even, and 100% serious.
Duncan grabbed Amanda's sword arm as she reached for her blade again. "Amanda, let's just go with it. For now..." He added quickly as her eyes widened with disbelief.
Joe tapped his foot impatiently. "Well I guess that means this old prune, whom no one wants to share their room with, and the kid whom one wouldn't mind sharing with will just take one room and happily accept the lady who nearly had use all spewed over an insult."
"Joe... That is not what I meant." Methos tried.
"It is our bed we don't want you sharing not our..." Amanda clapped a hand over her mouth but it was to late.
"Give me the damn key Methos." Joe ordered lowly with a dark voice. Methos complied, seemingly mesmerized by the danger glinting in the new bard's eyes. Joe stomped at the bottom of the stairs. "Oh, and Amanda. I know for a fact you have slept with men many times my physical age, especially the one that had his heart stop in the middle of your orgasm."
Amanda quickly ran after Joe apologizing to mute ears. Richie turned to his two remaining companions. "Well Mac, if you ever want to take her up no that offer... just let me know."
Duncan frowned, he wasn't sure if he should laugh or groan.
"Well..." Methos cleared his throat. "That could have gone more smoothly, even if I did get my way. I'll leave the door unlocked." With that, the eldest Immortal went to the newly purchased room.
Duncan glanced around for a minute, hardly believing that he had a few moments alone... well, almost alone. Shrugging, he found himself a seat and ordered some warm food for a change and some old ale that was certainly worst than anything he could recall. He ate and drank for several minutes, and then ventured up the stairs and to their room, moaning and groaning with indigestion. It was only when his hand touched the door handle did he realize that he had the world's eldest man waiting for him, in bed, on the other side of this door. Damn. Rotten meat certainly did not put one in the mood for any kind of physical activity. He pushed the door open with a sigh. A couple of candles lit the room and a pile of robes decorated the otherwise rather empty room. Duncan relieved himself of his cloak and tip toed to a corner of the room. Hoping to grab one of the extra blankets and get to sleep without waking the Old Man up. He nearly succeeded when a voice called out to him.
Duncan froze. "Yeah Methos."
"Is there a particular reason why you would choose a cold floor over a warm bed with me?" The tone was too neutral for Duncan's taste.
"Well, I ahh. I am not in the mood for anything that is all."
"Ohh." Came the reply.
It was silent for a few moments, allowing Duncan to let out a sigh of relief... but it was done too soon.
"If you are quick, you might catch Amanda in Act 2."
"Methos." Duncan faced the bed quickly, frowning when all he could see was the man's back and a bundle of blanket. "It is not that at all."
"Of course not. Who was I to think that you would possibly comply with my demands with your own interest involved? Who was I to think that that kiss had meant anything other than to mock my true feelings in front of your "real" friends who have not been alive long enough to make the mistakes I have... slaughtering thousands, killing innocents, rape, murder..."
"Methos. You are over reacting..."
"Am I? The great MacLeod with his flavors of the week. Go to sleep Highlander, I am."
Mac fumed angrily and plopped himself on the bed. He let his hands reach out and stroke the tense shoulders. "Methos. Give me a minute, and I will show you that it meant as much to me as it did for you." He smiled as the shoulders relaxed under his gentle caresses.
"I know you have the compulsion to help those in need, save people from themselves and anything else you think is dangerous. I am 5000 years old MacLeod. " Methos turned to him, but the expression on his face was anything but friendly. "The last thing I want from you is a pity fuck."
Methos yanked his shoulder away and buried himself in his warm blankets.
Duncan stood up angrily and returned to his corner. Fine. If Methos wanted to act like a baby, then so be it. As he pulled scrawny blanket over his body and counted the number of termite holes on the wall... he began to wonder if Amanda would have been the better choice. Of all the opponents he had ever faced, of all the mad men he had destroyed including some demon that had messed with all their minds and made him think he had slew his student and son, MacLeod was more than a little afraid of facing the being sleeping in the bed nearby in the game called Love.
The next morning, the small group found themselves passengers upon the a large smelly ship ironically named Rose. Duncan noticed that Amanda, Joe and Richie seemed in good spirits. The trio moved about the deck, glued to each others hips. The two guys looked like they were on top of the world. Duncan smiled, Amanda had that affect on a lot of people. He was, however, a bit curious to find out who the man was that was killed by such vitality. Shrugging, he continued to looked around which resulted in the smile being wiped right of his face. Methos. One word and his entire damn world was turned upside down. The old immortal often proclaimed that things were quieter when he wasn't around, but he doubted Methos spent his nights wondering about his choices and beliefs simply because some 5000 year old decided to open his mouth at the most convenient time. The Old Man was a smart ass, relentless arguer, and a self serving bastard. By god, Duncan recognized love when he saw, it just hadn't been as painful in the past. Sighing, MacLeod approached him and leaned against the railing, looking at the horizon. He tried to think of what to say but decided to go with the first lame thought that came to mind. "Nice day."
Methos nodded, his lips slowly forming a smile. "How long have we been out to sea?"
Duncan shrugged, "Around 10 hours, I think. Why?"
"Well, MacLeod." Oh no. Alarms went off in his head but it was too late. Methos continued. "This nice day has a lot of black and dark grey clouds coming from the east. If it were close enough, I would try swimming to land or at least making this tub of lard turn around. Leave to you to pick a rat infested inn and follow it up with a twin boat."
MacLeod's mood became dark instantly. He scowled angrily and walked away. "It seemed perfect for the rat we seem to be dragging along for no particular reason."
Despite the method of delivery, Methos' forecast was correct. The large ship suddenly became but a speck in an endless sea of terror. The water seemed to be ripping everything apart. The large, wooden masts snapped in three at the force of the howling wind and the rest caught fire with the bolts of crackling lightning. It was the tearing of the actual hull that made the passengers and the crew to risk the smaller wooden craft over the sinking flower. Duncan made sure Joe, Richie and Amanda were loaded and in the water before he went to find their pain in the ass. Why the hell would the man most afraid of sinking be the last to get off the sinking vessel? Duncan found his answer. Right in front of Methos' room was the remainders of a beam that had split and thrust itself to this level. There was pounding on the door, a pause, and then the sound of broken glass. Shit! The Old Man had probably decided it would be better to jump off the boat then go down with it. Good thinking, but not while Duncan was here.
"Methos!" Duncan yelled as he began cutting through the moistened wood. He couldn't help but wince at the damage he would be causing his precious sword.
"Mac!" Methos shouted through the thick door. "You idiot. Get off the ship!"
Duncan uttered a few obscenities in Gaelic before replying. "Just stand back, or I might accidentally take your head."
"I am not some maiden to be saved. Get off the damn ship before something falls on you and it takes over 200 years for us to get down there and drag your body back up. I jump out and drown a couple of times... No big deal for an immortal who has drowned more times than you could imagine."
"You hate the water and thus drowning." Duncan yelled back. Almost through. "I am not willing to risk you disappearing, even in an ocean. We are not finished talking." Whack! He got through.
Methos eyed him curiously, his wet hair plastered to his face. "Is that what this is... talking?"
"This is how we Scots converse." Without allowing another word, MacLeod scooped up his soon to be love and took off down the hall towards the last boat.
Duncan halted in horror. It would just be his luck that some orphan child would be screaming in her room or something.
"Your book! You are not seriously..."
"You had better hall your ass right back down that hall and get my spellbook. I am 5000 years old, and there is nothing your young mind can do to get me to a place I do not marginally want to go." Methos stormed.
Muttering, Duncan complied with the order and retrieved the book. He made sure to brush against ever low hanging beam in the area though, getting a series of ancient curses from his bundle. They made to the small ship just before the water overtook the rest of the Rose. Unfortunately, Duncan did not remain conscious long enough to enjoy the narrow escape for the world suddenly became black.
Duncan awoke to blinding light and sand in his hair and mouth. Spitting out the offending grits, he stood up, his hand instantly searching and finding his sword at his side. Thank god, he hadn't lost it. His eyes then scanned the sandy beach for any sign of Methos. The Old Man lay face down in the water nearby. That was easy enough, without second thought. Duncan threw the body over his shoulder and began his search for shelter. This journey was soon becoming a typical maroon drama. The surrounding vegetation was, of course, very junglish with large palm trees filled with virgin coconuts and even a couple of bananas. He built a small shack of dried palm leaves and various wood products. MacLeod winced as he sliced through his long hair. Even though the blade did not touch his skin and was certainly sharp enough to do the job, he had little desire to loose his hair. The day he chopped it off would probably be the day he would be deemed crazy. There! He stood back and admired his handy work. It could be better, but it would do for now, and his hair kept a small portion of it together nicely. His dark eyes then went to his limp company. Strange, Methos should have awaken by now. Duncan lifted the body up slowly and peered at him quizzically. No evidence of any bleeding wounds. He pried the mouth open. What he wouldn't give for a flashlight or toothpaste for that matter. Ah hah. Something looked wedged down there. He stretched his fingers down into the throat and pried the object loose. A glob of seaweed. MacLeod made a face and tossed it aside. No sooner had he done that did Methos wake up with a gasp. The hazel-green eyes looked about wildly until the bright globes gazed at Duncan. The Old Man gave a sigh of relief. "Gods what a horrid nightmare this is."
Duncan smiled. "I'll try not to take that personally. You certainly took your time in coming around. Have a fancy for wet green things?"
Methos eyed him suspiciously. "I am not even going to ask. Where is my book."
"Your book?" Shit. "Uh...
Methos eyes widened. "YOU ARE NOT ABOUT TO TELL ME THAT YOU LOST IT AND YOU HAVE NOT EVEN LOOKED ARE YOU?" the voice lowered dangerously.
"Well I figured we could look for it later." Duncan offered quickly. "I built us some shelter for now. Complete with soft, dry beds. There are some bananas and coconuts for dinner."
Methos eyed him warily. "All right. I'll go with it for now. But I am warning you. No book no bed sharing."
"Bed sharing?" Duncan nearly growled. "This coming from a man that said he doesn't want to be pity fucked?"
Methos smiled slowly, that kind of smile a bird sees just before the cat pops it in his gaping mouth. "No Highland child. You will be the one who I take pity on. But don't worry. You'll find the book soon enough. Where are those bananas again?"
"To hell I will." Duncan threw him a banana angrily. "If that damn book is so precious to you then find it YOURSELF."
Methos simply shrugged and wolfed down his dinner, eagerly seeking for more. The night passed by quickly for both men who fell asleep on there dry-leaf beds.
Duncan awoke midmorning. Normally, he was an early riser but everything in this world seemed a bit off somehow. He stretched and threw a glance in Methos' direction, only to find the old man was not there. Frowning, Duncan snatched up his sword and ventured off to find him. The trail was easy to follow. Methos had stumbled through nearly every mud covered trail and when it became dry. Left his various garments nearby. Duncan picked up the robe and began to wonder when he suddenly picked up a splashing sound. He moved on and came across a very large lake complete with a small waterfall. It had all the makings of a tropical paradise. Clean water, fresh air, exotic food, all that was missing was the dancing girl. One look at the center off the lake erased that though immediately .Methos' lithe, pale figure swam about in front of him over to the waterfall where he began to wash his hair. Duncan watched him closely, vaguely aware off his own ethics he was breaking. The large nose, small muscular figures, light hair caught his breath. It was the hazel-green eyes that suddenly flew in his direction that made his blood boil.
Methos smiled slowly, again with a predatory aura. "Come on in MacLeod. The water is great."
Duncan frowned. Something seemed odd here. Well he did want a bath and though that was not the only reason he wanted to enter the water, it was good enough. He stripped down quickly, and went to the waterfall in long full strides. In minutes he was next to Methos. Both men proceeded to rinse off as if they were totally unaware of the other's existence. Occasionally, Methos would sigh and caught Duncan's attention. Each time, the Highlander would ask him what and each time the Old Man would reply that he had no idea what Duncan was talking about. MacLeod fumed angrily and began to yank at his hair to get all the twigs out.
"Let me." Methos suddenly interrupted and without receiving an answer, he proceeded.
The long, strong fingers felt heavenly against his scalp and the heat from the other man was almost scorching. It did not take long for Methos' fingers to stray and glide across the rippling, muscular shoulders before him. Tired of waiting, Duncan turned and grasped the strong hands. They eyed each other for several moments. Then, Duncan kissed the tips of each finger before he drew the limber body closer. He leaned forward and locked lips with his would be lover, his tongue exploring the mouth slowly. This morning, the ancient tasted of sweet water and a musk that comes only with the ages. Methos broke the contact and smiled his hands rolling over Duncan's tight abs and grasping his waist. Their groins met, drawing heated hiss from MacLeod.
"Hmmm" He questioned as his hands traced the slender neck.
"Did you find my book?"
Methos nodded slowly. "I see. Well you had better stay in this cold shower a bit longer." With that, he swam away.
Duncan stood there in part shock and part bubbling anger. He had half a notion to catch the little bastard and show him exactly how angry he was. After all, he had the sword and Methos didn't posses his dagger or his book. Damn Him. MacLeod returned to the waterfall and stood there. No. He would not become rapist simply to be yanked around by a 5000 year old manipulator. MacLeod smiled slowly. Today, the book would be found and they would see who would be begging who to complete this brief foreplay.
MacLeod spent the next six hours combing the beach for some sign of the book. His mood became fouler and fouler with each grain a sand that became wedged in between his toes. He kicked at the rock he stumbled on and fell on the stick he didn't see. Damn you Methos. Duncan cursed those words over and over again. Then he saw it, the little treasure that caused all his problems. With almost joyful glee, he ran over to the book and yanked at it. It didn't budge. Scratching his head lightly, MacLeod tried again. Still not an inch. He pulled out his sword and probed the ground. The sand seemed rather soft here and even a bit sticky. Suddenly, a long green limb flew out of the ground and grabbed his ankle, pulling him down. Duncan cursed and hacked it off with his sword. Instantly, three more vines flew out of the ground grasped his legs and sword-arm. He struggled with fury. The last thing he would do is die for a book. He didn't care if it could turn the world upside down or not. His struggles quickly began to turn into panic as more and more of the offending constraints grabbed his free limbs. "Ugh!!" Concentrate. Steady. He gripped his sword tightly, working it lightly with his fingers. Then, with one smooth motion, flicked his wrist and severed several of the offending vines. Finding himself free, Duncan dropped to the ground, grabbed the book, and retreated several feet away. Only when he was at a safe distance did the Highlander realize his hair tie had fallen off. He grumbled angrily and threw a stream of obscenities at the overgrown vegetable. Just then, it began to pour.
Duncan returned the shack with his hair loose and drenched. Methos opened the door and peered at him quizzically. "I found some..."
Methos was cut off as he was struck square in the forehead with a very heavy, leather bound book. The Old Man fell backwards, clearly knocked out. Only then did MacLeod realize that in his hand, Methos held out a what looked to be some sort of large, melon sized fruit. Sighing, Duncan dragged the 5000 year old out of the rain and into the shack. Then he waited.
It only took a few minutes for Methos to recover. His hazel-green eyes blinked a couple of times before he sat up. "What happened. Wait a minute. MacLeod, you hit me!" Methos glared at him angrily.
Duncan shrugged. "Yeah, so?" Sadly, his foul mood was not improving. "You wanted the damn book and there it is."
Methos snatched up the treasure and continued to glare at him. "You are sexist MacLeod. Do you even know that?"
"Sexiest! What the hell does this have to do with sexism?"
"Amanda puts your ass in jail and all she gets is a lecture. I send you looking for something I desperately need and you knock me out cold. Unarmed even. Where the hell is my fruit? It took me forever to get it."
Duncan lifted his foot slowly. This was just getting worst and worst.
"That's it. I am going to bed." Methos fumed and kicked at the soft leaves. "As if this pile of dried weeds even counts."
Duncan glared at him angrily. "There is a wet marsh out there with your name on it, if you prefer."
"Wet marsh to a drenched rat of a Scot. Hmmm. Kind of iffy."
"Shut up and go to sleep or I will leave. I would love to see you fend off a leopard without a weapon."
"Magic MacLeod." Methos spat as he laid down.
Duncan followed the suit and stared at the wall for hours until he finally heard the soft breathing of a sleeping 5000 year old. He let out a sigh of relief. The Highlander wanted Methos bad but he would be damned to initiate it this time around. As he drifted off into sleep, he wondered about Amanda, Joe, and Richie. He hoped they were all right, wherever they were.
The morning sun blasted through the several cracks in the walls. Duncan rubbed his eyes slowly and pushed his long hair out of his face. His dark eyes darted over to the sleeping figure of his companion. He sighed. Methos certainly looked so young and innocent in his sleep. What, he wondered, did a 5000 year old man dream about? Then, as if on cue, the hazel green eyes slowly opened and gazed him. Their eyes locked for several minutes. Then, the wizard lifted his hand and touched his jaw lightly as if seeking a permission of some kind. MacLeod lowered his head and
gently kissed his would be lover. They parted. And then, Methos spoke. "Do you think in a new world we can have a new beginning... or do we start where we left off back home?"
Duncan frowned and sat down, eyeing his old friend. "Are we talking about the horseman or my taking a year off after that alternate future fiasco?"
Methos sat-up his eyes impassive. "I am talking about all of it. The lies, the half truths. That horrific nightmare where I left you to deal with Richie's death. Even if it was not real... I was there and really left you."
"400 years and I have done things I am not proud of, lost people that I will never forget, let others down when I could have done otherwise. Methos, you really are a legend, a myth. No one will ever know what it was like then and in me trying to understand, I did the opposite and wound up judging."
Methos nodded slowly. "So if I told you I wanted to pursue this, that I want to continue where the kiss left off? More than something physical."
Duncan smiled slightly. "I would say let's go for it. On one condition."
The defeat that instantly filled Methos' eyes hurt. "What?"
"It is not the world or the reality. It's us. Let's not forget that if we get back home."
Methos smiled. "Okay." The wizard sat up straighter his fingers playing lightly with his purple robes. "So..."
It was all Duncan could do to keep from laughing. With as straight a face as he could manage... he spoke. "Virgin jitters?"
The hazel-eyes narrowed slightly but the light remained. "Don't hit your chest too hard. I certainly did not wait 5000 years for some 400 year old Scot to sit next to me and make light of my feelings."
His grin broadened. "I just want to hear you say it."
"Duncan... Methos. Guys they are over here!" Amanda screeched from the doorway. "We have been looking all over this damn island. We spotted what was left of your life boat and here we are."
Methos leaned on his elbow. His other hand tapping the ground lightly and his hazel-green eyes stabbing the female immortal at least a hundred times over. "And here you are..." He repeated darkly.
Without warning, Amanda jumped into Duncan's arm and began kissing him.
MacLeod tried to backpedal away but it was too late. She was on him and there was little he could do about. Then, there was a bright flash of light. Suddenly, in his arms was no longer the strong woman he had known for years, but a soft furry black cat? His dark eyes shot over to Methos, who returned the alarmed gaze with a fiery one of his own.
"I have not waited over four years to get your ass in bed to have her barge in on us." Came the low answer.
Yes before Duncan could voice his complete reply, two more figures stepped into the shack.
Both the men were cut off as Methos pointed his finger in their direction and muttered some incoherent words.
"Richie. Joe. Run..."
It was too late. The light engulfed them both and where a watcher/bard stood, there was a a German shepard. In place of Richie was a large green toad.
"Methos! Change them back. What the hell has gotten into you!"
"Into me. I want your ass in my bed. That is what has gotten into me." Methos stood up fluidly, his book in his hand tightly. "If I have to warp us to the abyss, then so be it."
Duncan's eyes widened at the declaration, his hands unconsciously squeezing the life out of the Amanda cat. She hissed angrily and clawed at his biceps. Then the feline jumped out of his arms and joined her other polymorphed friends. The three animals glared at MacLeod with bright eyes. "What?" He felt more than a little silly talking to them now. "What do you want me to do? He has the spells." What a surprise. No reply. His attention returned to the very pissed off wizard. "Methos."
"What MacLeod. Is this the part where we kiss and make up, or do I get to fight you now?"
Slowly, the Highlander smiled, relishing the increasing anger in the hazel-green eyes. "I had no idea you were so jealous. I mean I knew you were jealous but to go to this extent."
"Fine. I am jealous. Is that what you want to hear? I have been madly in love with you ever since you walked your troublesome ass through my door and brought all the psychopaths with you. Wait. I'll do one better. I fell in love with your profile long before I ever laid eyes on you. Is that what you want to hear?"
Duncan's grin broadened. "Yes, oh Yes." He threw aside his shirt and then he pounced.
The warrior had the wizard pinned beneath, his hands roaming over the robed figure and then pulling his soon be lover into a long, passionate kiss. Methos pulled away, gasping from the intense heat. "MacLeod. Is this how you woo your women? Cause I must say your technique..."
Duncan covered the annoying mouth with his own again, forcing him to submit to his hungry assault. This time, they both broke the kiss, gasping for breath.
"I really think..."
"Methos," Duncan breathed heavily. "If I do this again. We both might pass out from lack of air."
"Methos. Shut up." He covered the mouth before it opened again. "I mean it."
Methos nodded slowly. "Just..."
"Ahh." Duncan warned lowly. His hand roamed down the soft folded robe and slowly released the pale figure of his desire. He nipped at the exposed neck, his tongue lightly rolling over the curves. His hands glided down the smooth back and pulled his lover closer. Methos merely watched him, his eyes bright and smiling. Then, the wizard's fingers ran through his long, dark loose hair and gripped his nape. They came together again for another kiss, this one mutual but just as hot. Methos' nails scratched his rippling back as Duncan covered him completely. Their groan met briefly, the inferno blazing despite the Highlanders worn leggings.
Methos loosed him quickly, pausing only to look into his eyes. "Duncan..."
"No talking... remember."
"Yes. I know mmm." They kissed briefly. "Are you..."
MacLeod dropped down and took the tempting hard flesh hard flesh in his mouth. The silky flesh quivered and came to life. Methos threw his head back and moaned. "MacLeod. Are you sure because they are still...?"
"How many more ways do you want me to say it? Yes. Now can we get on with it?"
Methos seemed hesitant but finally nodded. Then, with one smooth motion, the 5000 year old slipped out of his grasp. With hidden strength, Methos had MacLeod on his back in no time. The fire blazed in the wizards eyes. "I am 5000 years old. Don't treat me like some 16 year old virgin."
MacLeod laughed. "As you wish." He then attacked the hard member close to him. His tongue swirling over the delicious tip as his hands pulling and massaging the heavy sacs. Methos groaned, his fingers massaging Duncan's scalp. The large organ slipped into the back of his throat, allowing his muscles to work at the luscious morsel. Methos tensed and then filled him with his sweet essence that tasted blessed with age. The Highlander then moved over his lover and covered him with his large, hot bronze body. He looked in to the gleaming hazel-green eyes, his long, dark hair spilling to the side. He smiled and slowly took the mouth that seemed to spout old phrases and stories at the most convenient times. Methos spread his legs, his hands grabbing at Duncan's waist and guiding him to his warm opening. He grabbed the wizard's wrist and held them above Methos' head as he gently eased his way into the heated haven. Methos let out a long breath as the head pushed in. Duncan lowered his head and nibbled at a nice looking earlobe, whispering softly to him. Methos looked as if he was trying to stifle laughter, but his eyes lit up with the gesture.
"How many is this for you?"
Duncan sighed, as he finally embedded himself in the eternal bliss. Methos' hands gripped his shoulder tightly as the Highlander began to move inside him, thrusting in and out with increased speed. He smiled down at Methos. "Is there nothing that will shut you up."
Methos gasped as his body was massaged from the inside out. "It takes a lot to shut a 5000 year..." He was cut off as Duncan lips descended on his. Forcing and demanding silence. Methos' hips lifted to meet with every drive the Scot took. Light blue light danced off their glistening bodies and melded with each other, bonding and causing their hearts to beat as one. They continued, holding onto each other and clinging onto a love that finally had be released, becoming as close as too people can in physical world. Then they came, Duncan filling Methos with is seed and Methos accepting it. In reality, it was the other way around. Duncan loved this old pain in the ass and being able to admit it meant that he was able to accept it. To be able to love Methos in the light of day finally. He felt lifted of a pressure he had not known existed. Yes, this love brought to daylight... Wait a minute. In the midst of his orgasm, the Highlander remembered the presence of the animals that were, most importantly, his changed friends.
Shortly after their little exploration, Methos and Duncan found themselves to be the object of 6 angry eyes. The spell had worn off, but the memory had not.
Amanda was the first to speak. "I guess this means you won't be beating the shit out of this little creep who turned us into to animals so he could get his brains fucked out. I can't believe you did that to us!"
""Us!" Methos dressed quickly, his eyes never wavering from the angry woman with a sword. "You have been all over him like a leech who has found an endless source of blood."
"Me! You are the one who has practically pissed all over him and staked a claim. If you wanted to have a piece, why didn't you ask?!"
"Piece." Richie stepped between them. "Guys, this is MacLeod we are talking about, not a piece of pie." He turned to Duncan. "Gods, Mac. I had no idea you were gay, bi I guess. This is so strange. Shit, this is unreal."
Duncan just wanted to die when Joe finally spoke. "No Richie, this is very real. Next time, I don't think I want front row seats though. Hell, I knew you guys were dancing around each other like two drunk love birds... but couldn't you have waited. Hello, we are stuck in some sort of strange reality and are now marooned on an island."
The Highlander's 4 friends, including 2 loves, continued to converse/argue over the situation. Duncan found a nice comfortable spot and waited. His initial embarrassment subsided to general amusement. He wasn't sure if it was worse for Amanda to yell at Methos for his spell trick or make the suggestion of an immortal orgy. Judging from the red of the wizard's face, he would guess the latter. Of course, Richie rambled on a mile a minute, asking Joe how long he had known and if the young immortal had been blind not to see it. Duncan sighed. Well the sex had been good. Methos loved him mutually, and they weren't exactly in a really bad situation here. There were some questions left that had to be answered though. Had their Quickening's just bonded again? How come they felt the presence of other immortals but not that of those in the group? Where were they really? And... If they could go back... would he want to?...would they?
-Please let me Know what you think- Paladin
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