Connor's eyes jerked open, his breathing rough, the visions of the strange dream still clear in his mind. A woman with dark hair proclaiming her love for him, some horrid creature from the bowels of hell trying to kill him...it was so vivid in his mind that he shuddered, pulling the covers up close under his chin. What in hell had produced that? And his hair...his hair had been white of all things!

"Oh, god!" He couldn't keep the words from escaping, the thought of his hair being that shade, as though Amanda's hairdresser had somehow gotten hold of him.

There was the sound of movement from the next room, feet padding across the floor, and then a figure in the doorway, half shadowed by moonlight.

"What's wrong, Connor?"

Connor sighed and folded his arms behind his head, staring at the darkened ceiling above. "I had the strangest dream."

Duncan moved into the room, settling himself on the foot of the bed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "What was it this time? Another one where you were from some planet with that godawful name...Zeest, or Zoost..."

"Zeist. No, not as strange as that one, but at least in that one I was still me. And I looked really good, too. No, this one was way out there. I was some guy named Beowulf, had to kill this demon that was preying on these people."

"Beowulf?" Duncan snorted, trying to supress laughter. "Like in the poem?"

"Yes. Hey, it's not that funny. My hair was white for crying out loud!"

Duncan double over, his head resting on the comforter, trying to stifle the mirth that overcame him. He finally raised his head, tears streaming down his face as he tried not to break into giggles again.

"That's almost as bad as that one where you thought you were Tarzan! Swinging from vines and stuff!" Duncan pounded his bare chest with his fists. "Ahahahahhahahah! Me Tarzan, you Jane...ow!" He retrieved the pillow that had smacked him in the face and threatened Connor with it. "You want to turn this into a brawl?"

"Heh, heh. No, that's my favorite pillow and I don't want it ruined. Give it back."

Duncan did so, very hard, right on Connor's stomach, grinning as the other man groaned. "Shall I bring up that dream where you were in prison because your wife was pregnant and had those things in your stomach to torture you?"

Connor glared at him. "No. I can't tell you anything, can I?"

"Don't worry, I won't publish it in my memoirs."

"Hmph."

"But you know, Connor, I think you should really lay off the anchovies. They just do strange things to you."

"If you don't knock it off, I'm gonna do strange things to you!"

"I dare you."

The pillow hit Duncan squarely in the face again. He stood up, holding it at the ready to let fly and gave Connor a calculating look. "I thought you said this was your favorite pillow?"

Connor was already grasping the ends of another one and standing up on the bed, giving the mattress a few experimental bounces.

"I can always get another one."

It lasted all of fifteen minutes before the pillows were reduced to shreds. They both lay on the bed amidst hundreds of tiny feathers, Duncan trying vainly to dislodge one from the back of his throat.

"You owe me some pillows."

"You started it. Agghhh. Dang feathers."

"Maybe this is just another crazy dream."

Duncan looked at him sideways, spitting the offending feather at him. "Could be."

Connor just smiled. "No, this is too normal...no dream could be this way."

Duncan swiped his hands back and forth, stirring up feathers again. "This? You call this normal?" He would have laughed but he was afraid to inhale one of the danged things again.

"For us...yes."

Duncan chuckled. "Heaven forbid we should ever be abnormal, then."

"Heh, heh. I think I like us just the way we are."

"Me too." Duncan closed his fist around a handful of down, then rolled over and rubbed it in Connor's face, grinning evilly as Connor coughed and spluttered. "Me too."

by kyrdwynCDC

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