Disclaimer:
The characters of Methos, Richie Ryan, Connor MacLeod, and Duncan MacLeod belong to DPP. This fan fiction is for entertainment only; there is no profit involved.
Anchor links to individual stories:
Horseshoes and Halos
"Clang!" went the horseshoe as it circled the post and settled to the ground.
"Another point for me!" crowed Richie as he ran over and picked up his set of horseshoes. "One more point and I win. What was that bet again?"
Connor frowned, something wasn't right. The kid was making nearly every toss. "Winner doesn't have to help build that desert oasis the clansibs decided they want."
"Which we wouldn't have to build in the first place if Mac hadn't decided to play "Sheik of the Desert" the other day with MacNair," Richie grinned.
"Gain a few more years and you'll find that women adore that kind of play. And since when did you get so good at this, Rich?" asked Duncan.
"Just lucky today, I guess. Whose turn?"
Methos popped the top on yet another beer, taking a long pull off it. "Anyone know what's with lahoffy over there?"
The others looked in the direction Methos was pointing to catch sight of lahoffy on her hands and knees, crawling through the grass while coloring the air around her blue.
"Connor, did you give her "The Look" again?" queried Duncan.
Connor quirked an eyebrow at his kinsmen. "She doesn't usually swear when
I do."
"So...who's going to ask?" drawled Methos.
Nobody moved.
Finally Richie asked, "Rock, paper, scissors?"
Methos lost and made his way warily toward lahoffy. "Lose something?"
More cursing filled the air. "As a matter of fact, I did! Get your lanky butt down here and help me look." lahoffy continued patting the grass, parting it in places where it needed to be mowed.
Methos let the comment slide. "What are you looking for?"
"My halo's missing again! I haven't seen it since our last Par-Tay."
"Halo? All this for a bleeding halo?"
"You don't understand! If I don't have my halo, no one believes I'm innocent!" A slight whine crept into her voice.
Methos snorted. "Like anyone believes that now...OW!!" Gingerly, Methos rubbed his shin where she'd hit him.
"Quit being your Methos-y self and help-me-look!" she ground out between clenched teeth.
Methos paused for a moment, thinking. "Don't think that will be necessary. Follow me."
"What? Methos, get back here! Where are you going? Hey, wait up!" lahoffy yelled as she scrambled to her feet, signaling to the other clansibs to join her.
Duncan looked quizzically at Methos, who shook his head slightly, mouthing, Wait and see.
"What was all that about, Methos?" asked Richie.
"She seems to have lost something. Her halo, to be exact. Wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you, Richie?"
Richie's face went blank for a moment, and then flushed as he began stammering. "Me? No, I, uh...why would...uh, hee, hee..." his voice trailed off as he glanced around at the faces surrounding him.
"Show us the horseshoes, Richie." Connor said flatly.
"Aw, come on, guys, you can't be serious, they're just horseshoes..."
"Kind of funny how no one else has been able to get a good look at them," said Duncan.
Light dawned in lahoffy's eyes. "Get him, girls!"
"Wait, no...AAAACCCKKK!!! " Richie went down amid squeals, giggles, and a tangle of arms and legs. "Ow...hey...that...hee, hee...tickles...watch where you're grabbing...!"
"Got it!" shouted a triumphant voice as she held the halo aloft.
lahoffy snatched it, studying it carefully. "Richie Ryan, just look what you did to my halo! It's ...it's...all dented and dinged and bent..."
"It was already like that," muttered Richie. "You're always dropping it and OW!! stop that!"
Unrepentant, lahoffy kicked him in the shin again. "I'll do worse than that if you ever steal my halo for horseshoes again. Just look at it, Connor!" she wailed.
Connor slung an arm around her shoulders, hiding a smile. "Come on, bring it to the stables and I'll see what I can do for it. I'm a blacksmith, remember?"
lahoffy sniffled, then perked up. "That's right...ooo...can I watch? Will you do it with your shirt off?" she bubbled merrily as Connor led her away.
Richie stood, dusting himself off. "Well, all's well that ends well, right?"
"Not quite. You were cheating, Rich. Can't get away with that," said Duncan. He grinned wickedly as he turned to the remaining clansibs. "What do you think, ladies? Any ideas for punishment?"
The clansibs huddled into a group, giggling and whispering excitedly among themselves.
"Aw, come on, Mac, you can't be serious. Don't let them decide, please, anything but that."
"We've decided," said Sharz. "You know how we've been talking about painting the interior wall some other color than that icky gray? That's what you get to do, Richie."
Richie breathed a sigh of relief. "That's all? That's not so bad, I..."
"Sans clothes," piped in kyrdwyn, eyes gleaming.
"While we watch." CB grinned.
"And supervise," chimed in imnxtc.
Richie groaned while Mac and Methos struggled and failed to keep straight faces. The three clansibs locked arms with Richie, dragging him toward the shed for supplies.
"Those girls have such wicked minds," snorted Methos.
"Wouldn't laugh too hard, boys, you get to build the oasis," said wildcat.
Methos sighed. "Do we at least get to wear clothes?"
As the day wore on, the clansibs happily trekked back and forth between the budding oasis and the painting, gleefully tossing in not-so-helpful comments.
"Missed a spot, Richie."
"I think the palm tree needs to be a few more inches to the right." Pause. "No, back to the left..."
"Methos, I don't speak Sumerian, but that didn't sound very nice."
"Richie, how'd you get paint there?"
"Duncan, you really shouldn't be wearing a turban right now, you know what that does to MacNair--"
"MacNair! Duncan can't shovel sand if you've got him buried in it!"
"Are we sure we wanted sea green? I thought we decided on sky blue."
"Richie, why are you banging your head on the wall?"
The day ended with a freshly painted wall (and Richie) and a newly built oasis for playing "Sheik of the Desert".
And the halo that started it all?
Connor managed to pound the dents out and polish it to a gleaming shine.
Which lahoffy promptly tarnished again while helping Connor clean up.
lahoffy
A small disclaimer by the author: I know nothing about horseshoes. This was 3/4 of the way written when I asked hubby the rules of the game. Unfortunately, his rules and mine don't agree. He says there is no way this would ever work. After arguing with him for several minutes, I finally gave up and said, "Well, in my world, it does." End of story. The result is what you see here.
Methos, circling in the trampled clearing beside the stable, was losing his battle.
They had been surprised when the truckload of hay was delivered early. But the paperwork was in order and the girls had let the driver in completely unaware that he was harboring an immortal in the bales of sweet alfalfa. It wasn't until the men arrived back from a grocery run and to pick up a shipment of antiques for Connor, that the immortal had shown himself.
Rugged and handsome, with eyes that burned in fury, he leveled an ancient blade at Methos and shouted in an unknown tongue. Methos rolled his eyes at the drama and smiled his smug smile ... then went off to fight.
And was losing. Badly. There was something amiss in his sword-work, as if the very weight of the Ivanhoe was heavier. His blows were quick, but fell at the end instead of striking true. The greatcoat flapped soddenly and every flick threw an arc of blood that pattered across the trampled grass. He fought grimly on, his mouth a gash of color in a pale face.
Duncan and Connor, twenty yards away, could not interfere.
Dodge, thrust, parry, counterstroke, advance, horizontal block, retreat. Duncan took in his friend's footwork as he did every day when they sparred all together. How many mornings had he observed the swift Richie try to best the ROG? All the laughter and catcalls back and forth from the eldest immortal and the zesty young one. The making bets on who would bleed first, who would yell first, who would have to clean the others sword...
How many times had he watched Methos match pace with Connor? How many mornings had he watched the elder Highlander, both age 18 and age 483, push to his very limits -- only for both of them to end deadlocked over crossed swords, leaning on each other to keep from falling down. Then swigging beers to cool off, telling ribald jokes just to see Duncan blush...
And how many times had he watched those eyes over that sharp face, trying by brute strength to get through Methos' quick footwork and deadly sword strokes himself? The grins and grimaces, the barbed quips in that fond familiar accent ... and sometimes Duncan won and sometimes Duncan lost. And sometimes they leaned on each other in the center and heard Connor's triple chuckle of amusement from the sidelines at the two of them.
Now, it came down to this sweltering muggy day in the torn grass and the blood that cried from the ground.
"He's mine, Connor," Duncan said with a deadly voice. "When this is over, that bastard is MINE!"
"Something's wrong in that fight, kinsman." Connor was watching Methos' pattern of sword work too. "The Ivanhoe twists for his legs instead of the body like it should ... like he's strapped MRI magnets or something to his calves, drawing the blade down."
"Even if it's trickery, we can't interfere."
"You think I don't know?" the elder Scot snarled in a voice so savage that it made Duncan flinch slightly.
This is as hard to watch for him as it is for me, the darker man reminded himself internally. Connor and Methos had formed a united front to tease both Richie and me. He doesn't trust many and now he's losing another friend. Double, triple damn!
"Where's lahoffy?"
"lahoffy?" returned Duncan sidelong, unable to tear his eyes away from the shrill clash of swords.
"You stay here." Connor pivoted and swung away, but after a few steps, he whirled back to face his younger counterpart. "If that A-hole wins, give him my regards too!"
Then the elder man was running, coatless, sword in hand and his sleeves rolled up in preparation for wrestling bales of hay into the loft. Down, down, down the long path the horses took for carrots at his window, past the chain link fence at the pool ... vanishing around the corner of the potting house.
"lahoffy!" Connor's shout echoed through the covered porch and down the hallway.
"Wha--?" sounded the startled response. lahoffy, bare-armed herself and cranking a reluctant can opener, was in the kitchen surrounded by a host of mewling cats.
"There's a fight. Go!" He batted the open can of tuna away and it bounced and rolled, scattering fish across the floor. The cats scrambled for the tidbits. "To the barn. There's something wrong!"
"B-but--b-but--" she spluttered and then was running, pulled along by one wrist, following in the wake of the Highlander towing her. A fight? Where? Who? Something wrong? But ... I'm just a mortal! her chaotic thoughts tumbled as she ran.
The horizon jumped and bounced. The sun was in her eyes. One of her tennis shoes flew off. Her hair was in her face and she smelled like tuna, but the raw emotion in Connor MacLeod, conveyed through the death grip on her wrist and the straight line of his run, made everything else negligible.
She registered the scene in slow motion: the bales of hay tumbled like blocks off the bed of the truck. Duncan, legs spread in his classic ready stance, the sword glistening deadly in his hands. His was the face of a widow maker and death was in his eyes.
The grass was trampled and black with blood. Methos was struggling to remain on his feet, his beautiful dance with the sword corrupted down to methodical chopping that barely kept his opponent at bay. It was obvious even to her untrained eyes that the immortal was dying on his feet.
"B-but," lahoffy sputtered, aghast at the terrible scene.
Connor leveled a long arm and one finger, pointing. "Something's amiss with that fight! Methos is going to lose! And we can't help!"
The ROG was down, head thrown back in a paroxysm of pain and gripping one thigh. He turned his head away from his opponent, just a glance to see Duncan MacLeod standing like a thundercloud--waiting--and then he nodded and faced his final moment. Sneering, even at the end.
No one, save Connor, expected lahoffy, however. All of her rage, all of her devious streak--the inspiration for midnight rides behind Richie on his motorcycle at midnight and screaming like a schoolgirl at rock concerts--came to the fore. Furiously, she tore the halo off the top of her head and slung it with all her strength, spitting obscenities like knife points after it. "You bloody bastard! I'm going to carve you in steaks for the FELINES if you take him!"
ZZZ-III-NNNGGGGG! sounded the halo, traveling at high velocity, the air below the beveled edge lifting it slightly. It sailed, a golden blur, in an unwavering line and went sneckkk when it struck. A bright wedge of white appeared on the attacking immortal's forehead and his eyes went wide and blank below it. In a second, the wedge filled with blood and it streamed crimson down across the stunned face. Ker-WHUP, he fell prostrate.
"METHOS! NOW!" shouted Duncan.
Wounded badly, dying, the ROG had just enough strength to rise to one knee and swing the Ivanhoe like an axe. He chopped through the neck with one desperate blow before collapsing again.
lahoffy was still frizzing the air with dangerous invectives when Connor and Duncan hauled her by both arms away from the scene. It was only when the lightning started that she jerked out of her motorcycle-mama persona and assisted with the retreat. They stared at the light show and then frowned as the barn roof caught some embers that smoked and sputtered into miniature fires. The windows of the truck blew out and the radiator spewed hot steam. Connor was calculating the insurance money in his head. Duncan was eyeing lahoffy. lahoffy was watching the tendrils of energy shuffle from one body to the other out in the open field.
"Connor?"
"Yes, Duncan?"
"Did you know she could do that ... that ... halo thing?"
"You just thought she was a regular angel all this time?" He looked a little surprised at the younger immortal. "I didn't think you were that naive. Haven't you heard of Hell's Angels?"
~Finis~
MacNairCDC
This story was inspired by a pileup of conversation with lynnann, sheeza_dame, lahoffy, and MacNair--in no particular order.
Sheeza
Whuzzat?
Hmmmmmm....MacNair, umm....wasn't even thinking around that particular corner. However, that is fuel for even more deliciously dirty dark deeds......
I was just thinkin' that since y'all have so much power over 'em already, you could just TELL them to oil up. They would naturally want to get clean after a hard days' work, with or without assistance from the clansibs.
I sort of like your idea too....ya hafta catch 'em, and then ya getta keep 'em? Yeah...I can definitely wrap my mind around that one.....somethin' like this?
The afternoon sun made Duncan's back and shoulders glisten and shine. He rubbed his hands gingerly together before wiping them on his butt, trying in vain to be rid of the slick oil on them. The loincloth which is all that covers him, is dark from sweat, and the same oil which covered him from head to toe.
"Ladies? May I please wash my hands? I wanted to plant some more palms and orchids around the oasis, but my hands are a bit too greasy to hold the shovel." Duncan held his hands out to MacNair and lahoffy. "I can't keep a grip on the handle this way."
Lahoffy grinned while MacNair looked on. Her eyes narrowed, carefully scrutinizing Duncan's hands.
"Come now, Ladies," cajoled Duncan, "I greased myself down, just like you wanted, but I need my hands to do the work! Just let me wash my hands, and I will get the work done...please? You can watch if you want to."
"Lahoffy! What are you doing?" MacNair shouted suddenly, just as the woman had stepped up to lay her hands on Mac's broad back.
Duncan whirled around, catching lahoffy by surprise, only her fingertips skimming across his slick skin. Smiling crookedly at her, he whispered, "Lahoffy, what do ye say? Will ya let me wash my hands? If ya do, I'll play a game of Hide the Halo with ya later, and .... I'll even let ya win."
Lahoffy's eyes widened at the thought of her favorite game, her mouth opening in the shape of a large 'O'. Peeking over the younger Highlander's shoulder, she saw MacNair standing there, hands on hips and glaring directly at a very suspicious looking lahoffy.
Lahoffy, being greedy, figures this is her chance. She hollers, "OK, lets go! Hurry!" Lahoffy and Duncan grab at each others hands to make a run for the nearest sink, before MacNair can stop them.
Lahoffy felt Duncan's fingers squirt right out of her grasp. She had just barely turned to start away, so she reached again. This time however, she tried for his wrist. Again, he slid out of her hand. Lahoffy turned to see where MacNair was, only to find she had yet to move.
The only change was that MacNair wasn't glaring anymore. Her face was changing from anger to amusement.
This brought lahoffy to a panic. She felt her chance for fun and frolic literally slip from her grasp. This time, she figured she better get a good hold on him if she is gonna make off with her 'prize'. Lahoffy stepped right up to Duncan and grabbed him around the waist with both arms.
Duncan, surprised by this turn of events, realized that he and lahoffy cannot run with her holding on to him this way. "You! You, girl! What are ya doing? We can't run like this!"
Already, lahoffy was feeling the effects of all the oil that Duncan had slathered on. Her hold on him was already slipping. "Come on! We have to go. Quick!" It was really awkward, but lahoffy was determined, especially with the mind consuming thought of playing Hide the Halo with this handsome, greased up, fine figure of a man. She turned her hips and started to move, hoping that she could get him moving too.
MacNair, really amused, started chuckling. Her eyes were bright and shiny, the laughter evident in them.
"Ay, Girl! Watch what ye are doing!" Duncan cried, for with all of her grasping and pulling, lahoffy was dangerously close to undoing his loincloth. Duncan grabbed for the one and only thing that was keeping his dignity intact.
Determined to get what she wanted, lahoffy let go, in an attempt to try for better purchase on Duncan. She kept slipping and sliding around on his oil slicked skin, having little success.
Duncan started scrambling as the bit of leather grew more loose. With his already greasy hands, he was having a real problem keeping himself covered.
MacNair, finding all this to be just too much fun, laughed heartily, tears coming to her eyes. Her knees weak, she found herself struggling to remain standing. Oh, the sight! How she wished her Connor were here. He would love to see this, and MacNair would love to try this with him! Her imagination, always having been so vivid, found this new picture distracting, and turned her thoughts inward, for her own personal amusement.
Lahoffy's persistent tugging and pulling made Duncan start to panic. It's all fine and good to be naked when working, but he was more comfortable with Connor, Methos, and Richie around when it happened, especially when the clansibs were around to personally supervise. He was a bit more modest when it is just him alone. "I'll not end up naked if I can help it! Not with this Hells Angel sticking to me like a burr," he vowed silently.
Duncan, held onto his loincloth, as best as he could. Counting on the slippery oil covering him, he used all of his strength to pull away from lahoffy.
Lahoffy screeched at Duncan as she fought harder to maintain what little hold she had on him. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE! What are you doing? I thought we were on the same side!"
Duncan screamed just as loudly back at her. "We are, you silly girl! But I'll not allow ya to strip me bare assed naked in the mean time! Let go of me, I say!"
With that, Duncan gave a final heave backward, trying to break the hold lahoffy had around his waist. The force of it popped Duncan from lahoffy's grasp, and the sudden freedom caused Duncan to lose his balance and fall flat on his bum.
Lahoffy just stood there, all covered with oil, her clothes darkened with the stuff.
The look of surprise and the mighty "OOOF" that came from him, brought MacNair back to the here and now. Her eyes caught the look on Duncan's face, then trailed downward to find that all he had been born with, was right there for all to see.
Duncan looked up at MacNair, saw what she was looking at, and his sense of modesty forced him to attempt to cover himself with his hands.
MacNair looked into his eyes and he into hers. Together, they slowly turned their heads to see lahoffy, staring at the suddenly abandoned loincloth she found in her hands.
Lahoffy, slack jawed, looked at the loincloth in wonder. Slowly, it dawned on her....
"MacNair! Call the boys! Get them over here! And tell them we need them to bring more oil! MacNair! MacNair?"
All that could be seen, was MacNair, sprinting for the house, a giant grin on her face.
And Duncan? He was still sitting on the ground, hands covering his special parts, shaking his head. "Well," he thought, "at least I won't be alone in this."
Deciding there was no way around what is soon to come, he got up, dusted what he could off his sand covered rump, and headed for the house.
"Where are you going? Don't you want your clothes back?" lahoffy asked, holding out the hard won bit of clothing.
"I'm going to take a shower," Duncan replied. "I might as well be clean for a little while. I've a feeling that I'm going to have to go through this again when the guys get here. I want to be clean when they are."
"But why?" asked lahoffy.
"Well...I don't want them knowin' what's about to happen to them," Duncan replied.
Lahoffy looked at him with surprise and confusion.
Duncan cocked his head toward lahoffy, and smiled rather meanly. "Do ya want them to know before ya start? If ya do, then I'll just stay this way. But, I want to have my fun too."
Lahoffy, thinking about what he said, saw the wisdom of Mac's words. She smiled so big, her halo slipped down to cover her left ear. Feeling it, she reached up and tried to straighten it. Not having a mirror handy, she scooted the wayward halo more toward her right ear. "Scoot! Go shower before I change my mind! You got a good idea, Duncan. Let's see if the other boys are as 'fun' as you."
And with that, Duncan turned and streaked across the grounds toward the house. Lahoffy looked on with admiration and amusement, as she realized that there would be more than one full moon that night!
Forgive me ladies...never said I was a writer.
~finis~
SheezaCDC
They spread out from the peaceful corner, spooked, heads held high and their nostrils flared. The rumble started so softly that she didn't hear it at first. It was the trembling of the liquid in her half-full coffee cup that warned her and she jerked her bare feet up just as the first dust buffalo passed beneath the chair. Its polished horn grazed the bottom of her left foot and she yelped in surprise and alarm.
Like a swarm of gray mice, the entire herd was in motion, swirling like a whirlwind beneath her desk and chair -- spilling out into the room. They bellowed and snorted, eyes wide until the whites showed. The dust motes raised from their passing coalesced into smaller dust buffalos that rumbled, bleating, with the larger ones.
"Babies!? That's cute, but now there's twice as many!" moaned MacNair, standing up on her chair. "Yo! Duncan? CONNOR?! Anybody!?"
She saw the Scot as he rounded the corner of the stairs. Duncan stopped, stared, and clapped a hand to his brow at the same time. Elegant as always when surprised, MacNair thought. He whistled up the stairway from whence he'd come, one piercing whistle-call. Connor appeared almost instantly and surveyed the scene, pushing a hat back from his head as he did so. Where'd he get the damn hat? wondered Duncan.
"We need the dust buster," remarked the dark immortal, stepping on one stray that galloped into the family room. "OUCH!"
"Watch the horns, kinsman," reminded Connor. "No, what we really need is a cowboy."
POOF!
"What the---!" yelped a startled Duncan. His flowing blue shirt had vanished like smoke to be replaced by full cowboy regalia. Even down to the boots and spurs. "Connor?" he announced, mystified. He shifted his weight instinctively -- the balance of a natural horseman -- as the steed beneath him rolled her shoulders and pawed the ground. "Would you quit practicing that Nakano stuff on ME!"
Connor barely spared him a glance; too busy stamping his feet to keep the stampede confined to the computer room. No need to chase buffalos throughout the house. I just mopped the kitchen and what a con-far-ned mess THAT would be! he grumbled. "Not my doing, Donnchaidh. This is lahoffy's fault for sure!"
"Playing with her magic halo or just throwing wild ideas to conjure us into mischief?"
"Quit jawing and go save MacNair," redirected the elder Highlander with a stern look. "You like playing cowboy to the rescue anyhow!" Beneath his breath, he muttered: Anytime, anywhere ... Duncan to the rescue of damsels in distress.
MacNair looked up from the maelstrom of dust around her chair as she heard him come through the door and strangled on her laughter.
O.
Her mind was off on some risque bawdy cowboy ditty in an instant. "I'm a-lookin' for a cowboy..." Or wait? Maybe it was: "Where have all the cowboys gone?"
"Don't worry, lil' lady," Duncan drawled in perfect character with setting and scene. His dark eyes were lazily amused at MacNair's expression.
O.
The two of them would have just ridden away into the sunset, but there wasn't any sunset at noon and besides, the sturdy steed vanished with another POOF as soon as they were out of the computer room. They both went sprawling on the floor and Duncan ended up with wrinkles on his favorite blue silk shirt because MacNair grabbed him as they went down.
...Then it was off to get the vacuum while Connor held back the tide of rolling thunder by fanning them back into the room with his hat. (Where'd he get the damn hat? inquired Duncan once again.) In short order, the open nozzle of the Kirby was sucking the errant herd into oblivion and order was restored.
Except for the shoveling, of course.
~Finis~
MacNairCDC
Thanx to lynnann for the dust buffalos. (They should be trademarked!)
Thanx (I think) to lahoffy for Muse provocation.
This was Hayden's First CDC Party. She brought super-soakers, which were promptly confiscated by a Scot (who shall remain anonymous) and filled with fine whisky! MacNairCDC
"Duncan? What the heck is wrong with lynnann's dragon?" Connor said solemnly. He had backed a safe distance away from the edge of the pool and regarded the green serpent warily.
Puff, bobbling with the surface of the water, snorted a puff of fire ... then burped most unseemly. At the end of the sound was a poof of black smoke and the little dragon rolled his eyes.
"Well," Duncan said just as seriously. "lynnann said he's gotten into that bag of spicier Doritos that MacNair brought and then Methos got knocked into the pool by Hayden's super-soaker."
"And he had a beer?" inspired Connor, eyebrows crawling to his hairline.
"Two of them." Duncan quirked a grin at his friend. "He was wearing a fully loaded beer hat."
"So now Puff is fueled by some spicy chips and beer? No wonder he's a gassy, fiery little imp tonight!" Connor backed a little further from the pool edge. "I don't think I'll go in for a dip anytime soon. He'll singe my hiney!"
lynnannCDC
"Wimp," Duncan chortled, "you're immortal, and you'll heal. You know those girls are going to need rescuing tonight. They always do."
"If we pulled the plug on the pool, there wouldn't be any drowning."
"If we pulled the plug, they would injure themselves from all the thudding and thunking. You'll just have to bite the bullet on this one, Connor," Duncan said shoving the elder clansman into the pool.
Connor's response was muffled, thankfully.
MacNairCDC
...they were muffled, but as each bubble popped to the top, the message came through clearly to anyone listening.
~pop~ "I"
~pop~ "knew"
~pop~ "you"
~pop~ "were"
~pop~ "always"
~pop~ "shoving"
~pop~ "them"
~pop~ "in"
~pop~ "just"
~pop~ "so"
~pop~ "I'd"
~pop~ "have"
~pop~ "to"
~pop~ "do"
~pop~ "this!"
~pop~ "*(#&$(#^&^$~!"
Duncan laughed from his safe perch on dry ground ... then went looking for the first victim....
lynnannCDC
Duncan eyed the girls, who eyed him back, warily, albeit still drooling. Except one. The visitor had made the mistake of turning her back to him momentarily, so he scooped her up in his strong arms.
"OOO, Duncan," sighed Hayden. "Is this where the whipped cream and raspberry Jell-O come in?"
"Still too early, lass. In you go."
"I tried to warn her," lynnann said mournfully, "Never ever turn your back on the boys."
SharzCDC
"Victim needed? I'll volunteer. Not just for anyone, but for our boys, I'll play vict ..."
(GULP, splorting water all over) "Hey!" (under again)
"Give a girl some ..." (glub glub glub) "warning!"
(From underwater, talking through bubbles) "Never mind, I'd prefer the rescue. Breath--now--"
MacNairCDC
Hayden hit the water with a "BOOSH" and sank, too startled to do anything else.
She was even more startled to find Connor MacLeod on the bottom. He pulled her close, despite her wild gesturing towards the surface of the water and gave her a puff of air that she didn't have the wits to resist. Her eyes were wide, staring, before she remembered the rumors and hearsay.
This was an immortal that could breathe underwater!
Then he winked ... and launched her to the surface with a prodigious shove.
hayden
hayden emerged from the water. "Oh my! Someone push me in again! Quick!"
lynnannCDC
Sharz bided her time waiting for another breath of air. Connor knew better than to send her back toward the surface any time soon. He preferred to keep his dignity ... and his speedos.
MacNair peered through the water, trying to see to the bottom of the pool, wishing she were there, but not wanting to be obvious. A murmured, "Just for you, MacNair," was whispered in her ear, "and don't ever bring up mascara and my eyes in the same breath again." She was tumbled into the pool and she sank gratefully to the bottom.
hayden
Methos quietly moved to the side of the pool thinking that he could escape while the girls were otherwise occupied...
lahoffyCDC
But he had forgotten just one teeny, tiny little thing ... lahoffy's halo!
ZZZ-I-I-N-NG-G-G!!! The halo whizzed by his head, narrowly missing his ear.
"Bloody hell, lahoffy! You nearly took my ear off!!"
"Did not. I've been practicing. Going somewhere?"
"Uh, just thought I'd check on the beer, make sure we have enough."
lynnann smiled mysteriously. "Nice try, my dear, but the cooler at your feet is full."
Methos sighed. "Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath. Suddenly, a spark of mischievousness glinted in his eyes. He reversed course and at a dead run, came straight at lahoffy, who stared in disbelief. With a mighty shove, into the pool she went.
"That'll teach you to zing that halo at me," he said smugly.
lynnann raised an eyebrow. "You shouldn't have done that, Methos. Run. Run while you can."
lynnannCDC
"Why the hell should I run? Almost everyone is in the pool." He eyed the woman in the tipsy dragon floaty. "Sharz, MacNair ... Hayden just sank to the bottom again. lahoffy, you..."
"Don't say I didn't warn you, dear."
The presence of immortals never left during these parties, and the buzz wasn't directional, it didn't denote nearness, so there was no real warning. Duncan and Richie grabbed him from each side and heaved him into the pool. He sank to the depth of four feet in the shallow end and came to the surface, sputtering.
"You...you..." the language was dead, but the younger immortals got the gist of it, and they rolled on the ground, still dry, except for the tears of laughter rolling down their cheeks.
lynnann just circled in the drunken floaty, trailing a hand in the pool. "No one ever heeds my warnings..."
MacNairCDC
Rich thought this was tremendous fun. So tremendous that he forgot himself and shoved Duncan fully clothed into the pool. He stood ashore, the last one standing, crowing his delight.
Except the girls bobbed to the top at about the same time.
lynnann was shaking her head, slowly, clucking her tongue like some remonstrative mother at him.
Connor, uncannily aware of incidents involving his kinsman, arrived at the edge of the cement pool and leaned across his folded arms.
And Duncan was wading slowly back to the stairs leading out.
"Uh, guys? Really ... it's all in fun, right? We toss the girls in ... we toss each other in? Right? Hey, now ... um ... guys? Be cool now, guys?" Rich stammered, backing away, calculating how much of a head start he would need.
lahoffyCDC
In his hasty calculations, Richie had left out one factor--Puff. The little dragon weaved in the water, happily slurping up more beer-tinged water. A small grumble emanated from the area of his tummy.
"Look out!" lynnann squealed. "He's gonna blow!" Hastily, she slipped off and into the water, swimming desperately for the edge.
Puff let loose with the loudest belch any of them had ever heard. A stream of fire came forth, which had everyone in its path ducking for cover. Except for Rich.
"AAAAAAA!!!! Fire! Fire! My jacket!!" bellowed Rich.
Helpfully, the clansibs shoved Richie into the pool to douse the flames.
lynnannCDC
And then they all piled in after him, shrieking and splashing together. It wasn't often that everyone was in the pool at the same time. For good reason.
The barbeque, unattended, charred the steaks and burgers, and the salmon steaks shriveled.
"Our dinner!" Methos hauled himself out of the pool and stared morosely at the burnt offerings on the grill, and then picked up the super-soaker to douse the flames.
"Wait!" Connor put out a hand, but he was still in the pool, too far away.
"Don't!" yelled MacNair.
"Methos!" Duncan launched himself from the pool, but he was too late.
The heat ignited the Scotch and the ancient immortal found himself in possession of a flame thrower! Two lounge chairs were destroyed, and the table holding the chips and other snacks went up in a wall of flame.
MacNairCDC (laughing almost too hard to type!)
"O my God! The FIRE department will show up and we'll have to explain everything!" howled Connor.
"Lord, they'll card Richie because he looks underage!" shouted Duncan.
"And Puff will likely try to charm one of their fire hoses!" announced lynnann.
"And Connor's naked!" observed MacNair, and she feared no one was even listening to her!
lahoffyCDC
The voice of reason chimed in. "Just calm down, everyone," Sharz said. "Methos, run grab the buckets from the barn, we'll start a chain from the pool. Richie, quit blubbering about your jacket and help Methos. Duncan, distract MacNair while Connor, you go put your Speedos back on."
Bodies scattered, responding to the authority in Sharz's voice. Soon, there was a chain of buckets from the pool, slowly dousing the flames.
Grimy and soot-faced, Methos sighed tiredly. "Do you suppose we could skip the bar-b-que next time? After all, no one ever gets to eat any of it."
lynnannCDC
"Skip the barbeque?" the trio of immortals said in horrified unison. Duncan shuddered at the thought. How else were they to keep up their strength to keep up with the ClanCDC? And Richie was always looking for food.
Connor shrugged, he never got that much of the meal anyway (TG for the food he had tucked away up in the rooms!) He was always too busy rescuing the girls, but it was Duncan's excuse to keep him busy in the pool. He really didn't mind at all, he just liked to complain about it, looking for the sympathy from the girls, which he got in abundance. He grinned to himself. But the sharp-eyed MacNair saw that grin and dug an elbow in his ribs.
"What was that for?" he groaned, rubbing his side.
"I know that grin...too well, in fact. Sympathy for the Highlander. Having to rescue the Clan, under appreciated. We appreciate you plenty, bucko!"
Sharz appeared at the other side and snapped the red speedos to get his attention. "Yeah what she said. I wouldn't change a word." The voice of authority was gone now the crisis was over.
Connor grinned and wrapped his long arms around the two clansibs and fell backwards into the pool. They had to get the smoke grime off somehow, and the pool would have to be drained and cleaned in the morning anyway.
MacNairCDC
"Where'd they go off to?" Duncan muttered to himself. "Connor always spends half of the time necking with the clan! The rest of us can barely squeeze a moment in!"
"Hey," Methos said from near his shoulder. He, too, was regarding the pool and the bubbles that blipped up from the depths. "Feeling a bit left out?"
Duncan shook his head. He felt a lot of things, but regarded most of them as something he should ignore. "I'm fine, Methos."
"I know you're fine, Duncan," the ROG responded. "Just, tell me what you're thinking."
The young Scot (for he was young, compared to Methos.) contemplated the question, with both heart and head. "I'm thinking that I'm grateful for these women who appreciate my kinsman and have wrapped him up in their love and affection. I'm thinking that it's an honor to be bound up in the same love and affection. I'm thinking that if ever there was a place to belong, it is here."
Silence.
"Yes." Methos turned his head enough to look the younger man fully in the face. "You both belong here. In Clan. The closest thing to Clan that you've ever found, both of you together."
"And you?" Duncan said, purely by instinct.
"Me? Why, I make myself at home wherever I can." He paused and smiled his inscrutable smile. "This place has been easy to infiltrate. The food is prevalent and the beer is always stocked."
"Leech," Duncan chided.
"But a cute one."
"Cute? Ummm, that judgment is best left to those wiser than I."
"I've never seen your clansman so at peace."
"I haven't either," Duncan admitted, and his thoughts became light. "And it's well with me, that he is whole and at peace."
Methos looked at him, dark eyes mysterious and knowing. "Yes. That's the way it should be, in Clan. What is good for a kinsman is good for the kin. To find him at peace, is to find yourself at peace."
Duncan reached a hand and rested it on the slender shoulder near him. "You understand, don't you."
"I do. I'm not from Scot's heritage, but I know what it was like to live in fellowship -- and how it can be twisted and savaged from what it should be."
Connor surfaced, with a blow of water and a whoop. The blue eyes danced and his smile was infectious. "Hey, come in here, you two. The water's just right and the girls are slick as soap!"
Methos grinned and Duncan shook his head. It wasn't much encouragement, but it was all they needed. The two dove into the pool.
"Hey, you guys planning to eat anything over here?" Rich called from the buffet table. It was the only thing left after the blast of fire from Hayden's whisky laden super-soaker.
"Later," came one nameless voice. "Later."
MacNairCDC (The morning after the CDC par-TAY)
"Hmmm, what's the matter with Connor?"
"Connor? Oh, he's just a little under this morning," offered Duncan. He swept another load of 'fricassee' pool chair towards the trash bin.
"Under?" inquired the same curious voice.
Duncan looked up at the speaker. "Well, between Hayden, and a super-soaker loaded with whisky, and Methos dumping several beer hats worth of beer in the pool last night ... I suspect he's a bit hung over."
"Is that possible for an immortal?"
Duncan pushed more charred sludge with the shovel. "He was breathing it as well as drinking it. Yeah, he's a bit pickled this morning. He'll be fine about mid-morning, I suspect. Until then, woe to the noisemakers."
"HEY DUNCAN? YOU SEE MY PAR-TAY SANDALS ANYWHERE!?" shouted Richie through the kitchen window.
"Woe number one is right there," somberly announced Duncan.
lynnanncdc -giggling
bwahaha
ssshhhh! Trying not to be woe number two...
*snerk*
pbt~pbt~pbt~pbt...sssshhhh!
*giggle*
*snicker*
"back off, k'lynn"
oh dear
*
*
*
*
BWAHAHAHAHAHA!
uh-oh!
:::lynnann heads for the hills:::
lahoffyCDC-laughing very quietly
Hee,hee,hee... (whispering) Poor Richie, the dear boy simply has no clue. Should we pity him? (Pause) Naw...he deserves it.
MacNairCDC
From upstairs in the big house ...
...from a large, but pitch black room ...
...from beneath a rumple of bedding and pillows came a low voice, grating: "Kill the boy."
[Interlude. Play nice music. (Softly!) The whole house is holding its breath ... waiting ... watching.]
MacNairCDC
Connor dragged himself out of the whorl of bedding after the second intrusion of sound. Methos took one look at the shadowed eyes coming down the hallway and spun on a heel to enter the very first door he came to. Connor stalked down the hall unaccosted and unsmiling over an unshaven face.
"Psst! Hide, Rich!" hissed Sharz from near the laundry room.
The redhead darted a frantic look left, then right. Duncan, having heard that same whispered warning and knowing what it must signal, extended a long arm and pointed -- straight at the cubby where the dishwasher was routinely inserted. The young immortal dived in the hole and Duncan shoved the Kenmore back against him and leaned on it. One muffled "Wuughh!" escaped from behind the culinary cleaner.
The elder Highlander entered the kitchen like a black cloud and looked at Duncan ... who was quietly refilling the rinse aid dispenser.
"The kid," Connor's voice grated out. It was threat, question, and pronouncement all in two words.
"Hmm?" Duncan returned nonplussed. "I don't see him." He shrugged and continued to eyeball the small refill chamber; praying Rich wouldn't chuckle and give himself away. Duncan's immortal signature would cover the youth if he were quiet enough.
Connor skulked onward, around the island, and passed the coffee maker without even taking a cup. Duncan watched him go out of the corner of his eyes and sighed when his clansman's presence faded.
"Am I safe?" Rich whispered.
"For now. But shut up, if you want to live, for criminy sakes!"
MacNair was on the balcony with lahoffy. They both watched without a word as the irritable elder Scot walked through the dining area. Both of them leaned over to see where he went and then scurried down the hallway on the second floor to the open foyer. Their joint startled expression pulled lynnann from her current book and she joined them in looking down from near the vaulted ceiling.
All three took in a swift breath and put a hand over their mouths in unison ... as Connor headed straight to k'lynn's closet door. Without even breaking stride, the immortal jerked the door open, stepped quickly inside and shut it with a thump behind him. The typical abrupt "open/shut" required to keep the CDC spectre contained.
"Aiiii!" exclaimed lahoffy.
"Eeeeeek!" yelped MacNair.
"Oh dear!" proclaimed lynnann.
Inside the closet there were seven coats, two sweaters, one ball of orange yarn, twenty seven coat hangers all strung together, a yard of bubble wrap popped all the way to line number two hundred thirty three, seven hundred twenty two paperclips chained all in a row, a bagel painted like a happy yellow sun, nine zippers without owners ... and k'lynn sitting right in the middle of her hoard like a dragon on her jewels.
She was startled to see Connor MacLeod arrive without ceremony or announcement into her domain and she popped out of the midst of her baubles in appropriate delight. And stopped.
"Connie?" She tilted her head ... tilted, tilted, tilted ... until she was looking at him upside-down while still being on her feet. "Connie look terrible."
He didn't answer. He just looked at her.
"Connie feel bad?" The elusive spectre righted her head ... then tilted all the way the opposite direction and looked at him upside-down again--as if by the change in perspective, he would become right.
He looked the same. Still silent. Still grim.
"Connie feel bad. Connie look bad. Connie eyes no sparkle. k'lynn fix. Sit, Connie, sit."
Outside the closet, in the big house, seven clan members and three immortals were in a rush for the same place at the same time.
There was a pileup on the staircase consisting of lynnann, lahoffy and MacNair. They managed to sort out their respective persons without any loud noises. A chorus of "Shhh!" and giggling accompanied the scramble. MacNair nearly had her clothes pulled off as both her clansibs hung on to keep from falling right down the flight of steps.
Methos and Duncan collided and bounced off each other at the corner of hall and foyer. They grappled for the wall and each other to keep from falling. Rich slide around the corner just as they got upright and almost knocked the other two down again. Sharz and Kydwyn arrived like a team. The last three CDCers emerged from various points in the house. It was like the three stooges, multiplied, as they all streamed to right outside the door of k'lynn's closet--and halted to listen.
Silence.
Twenty ears all trying to press on the door at once and all they heard was silence?
Ominous silence.
Inside the closet, right in the middle of the seven coats, two sweaters, one ball of orange yarn, twenty seven coat hangers all strung together, a yard of bubble wrap popped all the way to line number two hundred thirty three, seven hundred twenty two paperclips chained all in a row, a bagel painted like a happy yellow sun and nine zippers without owners--Connor was curled up asleep.
k'lynn was curled up around him with her face pressed into the limp hair of the bedraggled immortal who had entered her lair. It was quiet and she was smiling. Smiling like a dragon sitting amidst her jewels--as if she had just added one.
And woe to anyone who disturbed a dragon lurking over her hoard of jewels!
~finis~
[Five paperclips added to this collection by Connor and Duncan Nov. 2001]
k'lynn
Dunkie? Dat you?
Cum 2 play rowp swing wit me?
doant twizt rowp, cuz i mite git sick...
no sily boy, knot like fan at all. Connie tel u tru, spekter hirling knot a gud thing.
MacNairCDC
Bwahaahaahaahaaa! Oh (wipes tears) k'lynn, you are a riot! Took me three tries through to figure out what you said, and it's still a riot!
Don't swing her too high, boys! We just got the pool cleaned!
lynnannCDC
"Wwwwhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!! Hier! Hier!"
"MacNair said not to swing her too high," Duncan cautioned his kinsman.
"Those clan girls can be such worrywarts sometimes," Connor said, pushing k'lynn to dizzying heights. "Even if the pool was just cleaned, we still have time before the next POD parTay. They haven't even set a date yet."
"We could lose her in the drain system if she falls in, didn't you see that post down there the other day? We'd never get her back."
"Mor, moorrrrrr!!!!" the spectre wailed.
"Well, there is that... k'lynn, we should stop now." Connor attempted to slow the wildly swinging spook, but got a sharp elbow in his ribs.
"No stop!" she flailed at the two MacLeods. "Must swing hier!"
Duncan pulled a stack of papers from his rucksack. "Frus, k'lynn. Just for you."
"Doan nead frus, got youse!" she singsonged.
Connor dug deep into Duncan's rucksack and pulled out...
"Chocolate, my giddy spectre, just for you," and he glanced at Duncan and said softly "you were holding out on us, were you?" Duncan grinned and shrugged silently.
"Nead choclate, but nead hier moorrr. Wwhhheeeeee!!!"
"She'll come down when she's tired of it," Duncan said finally.
"Dere here! Dere back!" and she flew off the swing and landed, flowing towards the gate of the CDC Compound. "Meetoes, Richie-babe. U bring?"
"Right here, k'lynn, go easy on that ..."
Before any of the immortals could stop her, or hardly blink, k'lynn went on a gleeful rampage, decorating the Compound with Silly String.
"What was I thinking?" Methos wondered aloud.
"It was your idea?" Duncan growled. "Then you are cleaning it up!"
"Just what I need, job security. Come on Boy Wonder," he said to Richie. "It was your idea to buy three cans of the stuff."
"Yeah, Old guy, blame it on the kid. I just hope she doesn't learn about the paint ball guns."
They all froze in horror as k'lynn stopped in her tracks and turned towards them.
"Paint bals?"
MacNairCDC
Ka-POW, ka-POW!
k'lynn, as they soonly discovered, was a dead shot with a paintball gun. In short order Connor was sporting a green forehead and Duncan a yellow crotch ... to his chagrin.
"Couldn't you duck?!" yelled Methos.
"I tried to jump over it!" he retorted.
Ka-POW! Methos now owned a blue chest.
lynnannCDC
"Just my color," Methos grinned ruefully, glad she-who-would-not-be-named-lest-her-very-name-would-conjure-her-up didn't know of his hiding place with the CDC. The mere sight of the color would probably send her over the edge and he would spend the next three months as a toad.
Richie ran fast, but the sprite was faster. Blam! In the back of the head with a red paintball. At least it blended in with his hair...NOT!
MacNairCDC
"Say-y, watch it!" yelped Sharz as she narrowly avoided the next shot. MacNair wasn't so lucky and sported an orange shoulder.
"k'lynn!" she remonstrated, shaking one finger. "And you won't even help clean it!"
"I hep. Lik bubbles!" chortled the sprite as she leveled the gun again.
"DUCK!" shouted MacNair. Biff! Too late! lahoffy had been topped by a pink paintball! "E, gads! She'll whip out that halo next and we'll have colors and metal flying around here!" lamented MacNair. She was careful to stay hidden behind the patio trellis.
Janne
ka-PING! Splort!
MacNair suddenly discovered that her hiding place behind the trellis provided less cover than she had hoped. Now sporting a rather fetching purple splodge she looked around in time to spot the sniper on top of the garage taking aim again.
"Ack! Look out guys..."
Too late. ka-PING! Duncan was now modeling clothing in this seasons colours, with the new purple detail on the reverse of his trousers contrasting nicely with the yellow motif from the front.
ka-PING! ka-PING!
More purple splodges appeared in rapid succession on Richie's shirt and Methos' nose (it might seem like good marksmanship, but it's a big target...). Connor was so busy laughing at the outraged expression on the ROG's face that he forgot to take cover and became the next victim...
ka-PING!
...ending up with a large purple mark on his stomach, much to the amusement of Sharz, Lahoffy and MacNair.
"Uh, ladies" said Richie. "I think you should maybe move..."
ka-PING "Yow!" ka-PING "Hey!" ka-PING "Ow!"
"...out of the line of fire." he finished. "Never mind."
On the roof, Ennaj went to reload again.
"poo. out of ammo." She crawled to the edge to take a recce. Everywhere she looked, people were sporting new purple additions to their outfits. "my work here is done" she sighed in satisfaction, and went back to sunbathing, blithely ignoring the shouts and curses from below.
MacNairCDC
The immortals paused and considered. Retribution was clearly in order.
Connor fetched the hose. Methos checked the connection. Richie muscled the eight-foot ladder and was the anchorman holding the end. Duncan climbed to the top and braced his hip on the garage siding. Connor crimped the hose, twice, and fastened his hands about the blockage. Methos turned on the water ... full blast.
The CDCers ran!
Methos grinned, Rich stood by with a bucket of what looked like marbles. Connor grimaced as the pressure built ... and built ... and built ... the hose bulged in the weak spots and squirted frantically from the connection.
::::
::::
Duncan nodded from his perch on the ladder, one quick gesture at his clansman -- and Connor released the blockage.
KA-BLOOOSH!
"!~! EE-AAAAAAH!~!" shrieked Ennaj, blasted completely out of sunbathing mode and right to the edge of the roof. Her center of gravity was too far off to save herself and the half-tamed minx wisely leaped off the garage and landed in the pool with a mighty splash.
When she surfaced, Rich was there -- and he tossed the entire bucket of paint balls at her. Every immortal in the compound whipped out a paint gun and opened fire on the floating balls, instantly coating the little vixen in a medley of bright colors!
"Lookee there, Connor," chortled Duncan and he elbowed the man in question in the ribs. The elder Scot cursed him for spoiling his aim, but went right back to firing. "She looks like some of those tie-die clothes you were so fond of in the sixties!"
"Heh, I didn't wear any tie-die." Connor didn't even look sideways from his target practice. "I think you smoked too much weed."
Rich looked incredulously at both of them and Methos hooted in laughter.
"I think the Love Beads in the bottom of that last box we packed sort of shoots that theory down, Connor."
The older man laughed his staccato laugh, an admission of the truth. "But I wore a mean pair of bell bottoms!"
"And just about the color of her, I bet!"
Ennaj was SPOOKTACULAR~!
Janne
After a brief intense pause, a small and very irate looking rainbow heaved itself over the edge of the pool and stood up. The boys shifted and exchanged nervous glances.
The rainbow wiped paint from its eyes, put its hands in its hips and *GLARED*. Connor backed away hurriedly. Methos muttered "Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time" and started looking for a place to hide. Richie decided to save time and simply hid behind Duncan, who had caught the full force of The Look and been pinned in place.
"duncan? sweetie?" said the rainbow, in a very calm and reasonable (and hence very scary) tone of voice. "who's idea was this?"
"Uh..." gulped the brave Highland warrior and pointed. At Methos. Who shook his head rapidly in denial and pointed in turn at Richie. Who yelped in outrage,
"Hey! I just held the ladder. You guys pointed the hose!" while gesturing toward Connor and Duncan.
"i *see*" said the rainbow ominously, tapping a foot on the ground. "k'lynn? Would you be so kind as to join me in my office?" The sprite danced giggling merrily across the garden and into the garage, closely followed by the rainbow-striped Ennaj, who stalked into the garage and let the door swing close behind her with a thud.
"This is not good," said Connor.
"No." agreed Duncan. "Why did we all listen to Richie's plan anyway?"
"Well since it is all his fault, I think he should go and try and hear what the two hellraisers are planning for us!" chipped in Methos.
"No way man! I'm not going anywhere near that garage!"
"Oh yes you are! It was your idea and therefore your fault, so get."
Faced with the three determined older Immortals, Richie reluctantly gave in and edged gingerly over to the garage door. He knelt down with his ear to the lock and listened...
BANG!
The door flew open, slamming him into the side of the building. He dropped stunned to the ground as k'lynn shot past him, heading straight for Methos with a wild glint in her eye. "Oh shit!" yelled the ROG and ran for it with the yammering dragonet in hot pursuit. Duncan and Connor turned to watch the chase as the pair circled the garden at high speed, Methos just in the lead.
"I bet you a bottle of Scotch she catches him" said Connor, momentarily distracted from their grave situation.
"No bet." replied Duncan "How'd Ennaj get her to chase him like that anyway?"
"oh that was easy" said the twin in question. From right behind them. They froze in horror for a second then turned to find Ennaj (miraculously free from paint though smelling rather strongly of turpentine), watching the ongoing race interestedly.
"OK, I'll bite," said Connor. "How?"
"i told her that he had a large bar of her favorite chocolate down the back of his shirt"
"That was really evil" choked Duncan.
"well, *duh*! don't you want to know what i've got planned for you two?"
"Umm... not really" said Connor as they both started to back away, careful not to make any sudden moves.
"oh, well. guess I'll just have to show you then." said Ennaj, drawing her hands from behind her back to reveal a super soaker. Realizing it was unlikely to be full of anything as harmless as water, the Highlanders tried to run. But they'd left it far too late...
SQUUUUUIIIRT!!! SQUUUUIIIIRT!!!
And there they stood, two proud Highland warriors, sparkling from head to foot in purple glitter mixed with fast drying glue!
Ennaj grinned happily, stepped over Richie's groaning body and back into the garage. She left a large bar of chocolate out by the door for k'lynn before slamming the door shut, safe now from all retaliation.
MacNairCDC
There weren't any words.
None.
Duncan looked at Connor -- Connor looked back. They blinked; two sets of glittery eyelashes sweeping down, then up. Rich stared, slack-jawed. Even Methos skidded to a halt, gaping at the scene. For a moment, all was shocked stillness.
"This purple," abruptly falsetto'd Connor. "Do you think it matches my shoes?"
Duncan roared!
"I think I'm suppose to have a purse to match it, aren't I?" continued the elder man unabated. "I see that you match me...."
Duncan was on his knees, hysterically laughing. His hand left a glitter print beside the pool.
"Does this mean ... like ... we're a couple?" continued Connor, somehow managing to look devilish while covered in purple glitter. "Like together?"
"I don't THINK so!" retorted Duncan, and he jerked on the nearest pant leg and downed his kinsman on the cement -- then shoved him with one foot into the pool. A glittery trail marked Connor's path to the bottom. "You idiot!" He laughed a moment more, then dove in himself and followed the glittery trace down.
There was a shoe left beside the pool: a glittered sneaker.
A shirt bobbed to the top: glittered.
A belt, which looked like a snake, was curled haphazardly at the bottom of the pool.
Another shirt appeared at the surface: glittered.
A pair of jeans: purple glittered.
"Duncan's going to drown if he doesn't come up soon," announced lynnann.
"You think Connor would let him drown?" asked lahoffy.
Another pair of jeans appeared, glittered, at the surface.
"I don't think he would," commented Sharz. "Duncan hates to die by drowning and Connor cares too much."
A pair of white jockeys floated up: unglittered. Everyone knew they weren't Connor's.
"They'd better watch it down there," observed Methos, peering at the two Scots. "They're covered with glue and might get 'stuck' in a compromising position with that breathing."
"BWAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAAA!" resounded the CDCers in unison.
"We've a couple of nude immortals in the pool," announced Sharz when she caught her breath. "Pull the plug."
Ss-s-s-s-suck, swirly-swirly-swirly, gubble-gubble-gubble, bloipp! The pool was drained, leaving a haphazard field of discarded clothing and a wild array of paint smears on the floor. A ring of purple glitter adorned the water line. In the bottom; half bare skinned, partially glitter-faced, and laughing were the two Scots.
"Throw down the ladder, so we can climb up!" called Duncan when he had recovered sufficiently. "OW!"
Connor, peeling a steak of glitter-glue off the back of Duncan's neck, just flashed a smile. "You're going to be waxed the hard way, I suspect. I told you all this hair would get you in trouble! OW!"
Duncan peeled a strip off Connor's exposed arm. "Good thing you were in a T shirt or you'd be losing your three chest hairs!" he cat-called.
They were scrimmaging next--glitter and all--sliding like otters at the bottom of the pool.
"I've seen jello wrestling, mud westling, grape wrestling, creamed corn wrestling in my day," Methos announced. "But this one beats them hands down."
MacNairCDC
It's a good thing that they peeled out of those clothes in the pool, isn't it! I wonder if they realized that WE would be peeling off their clothing once the glue dried~! OUCH~!]
Duncan wouldn't have any hair left on HIS chest, either!
Bwahaahaa!
lynnannCDC
Dying here, laughing!!! Yep, Methos with chocolate would certainly get k'lynn moving.
And you wouldn't believe the discussion coworkers had last week about waxing. Good thing the boys heal fast, eh?
MacNairCDC -- ROFL!
I can hear it now:
Overheard from poolside ::: misc. quotes from unknown sources.
"OUCH! Part of me was in that strip!"
"No lightning, so you weren't in there."
"It FEELS like I'm in there!"
"Hold still, will you? If you'd just hold still!!!"
"Faster! Faster! It doesn't hurt if you're fast!"
"Glitter in your belly button? How did THAT happen?"
"Boy, MacLeod, you're soft everywhere after that!"
"You two would yelp if I slapped you with some aftershave ... it wouldn't even matter WHERE!"
"No. Just leave it there. It'll wear off."
lahoffyCDC-ROFLOLPIPACSPI
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHH
*GASP* *wheeze* need air...laughing too hard to breathe...
It'll wear off?!?!?! BWAHAHAHH!! Oooh, not too sure I wanna know where that particular glue patch is....
~ Finis~
k'lynn
Won day nere Chresmahs, lahofee, the bikr babe, puled awf the side of rode wen she saw sumthin shiny (she a lot lik me - lik shinee thins)
It was a hubkap with lotza spoakes, an she wantd a shyni star for Chrissmus treee. She pickt up and put in sadlebag, n tuk to connie to fix 4 her.
"Kut hear and here n al ofer" she sade, "mayk prity star 4 me pleze."
Connie sayd "shure think, bykr babie" an he do it quik and eezee. He pickted up new star n holed it up to sea fyrelite makin it sperkel. "prity" saed connie. "what u wand me 2 dew width this here leffofers?"
"juss tosst it away, " lahofee wayfd her feenkers. Connie did jusd that, and it landted on her hede an stook ther. she haf it efer cince.
leas thads wot she tolt me. but she hided hir haloe so donut noe if she tellt me trooth or not. lynan juss seyz oh dere.
lahoffyCDC
Methos opened the door to the rock & roll room, staggering a bit from the wall of sound that poured out. Obviously, lahoffy was in here. He spotted her near the speakers, singing off-key in that endearing way of hers.
"It's my life, it's now or never, I ain't gonna live forever, I just want to live while I'm alive," warbled lahoffy along with Bon Jovi.
Methos winced, popping the top of his beer and reaching out to cut the sound a bit.
"Hey! I'm listening to that!!"
"Lot of speculating going on about the origins of your halo," Methos drawled.
Reaching up, lahoffy adjusted the said halo in question. "I noticed."
"Think maybe you should say something?"
"Why? This is much more fun. Everybody gets his or her shot at coming up with something. Lots of laughs guaranteed."
"So, you're going to let them keep speculating?"
lahoffy grinned wikkedly. "For now."
Richie sighed heavily as he opened the door to the rock & roll room. This was not his idea of a pleasant way to spend the afternoon. Mucking out the stables held more appeal than trying to get lahoffy to tell the story of the halo. With his luck, she'd probably use him for target practice and still refuse to tell him.
Creed blasted out of the stereo. Richie grinned, "Well, at least I finally get to hear that new CD she's been hogging for the last few days."
lahoffy glanced up suspiciously when Richie waved a hand in front of her to gain her attention. "What?" she grumbled.
"Nothing. Just came to see what you were listening to. Enjoying it?"
"Uh-huh. So, how come you're in here and not out joyriding on this last beautiful day of the fall?"
"No reason." Richie fell silent, letting the music flow around him. "So...been meaning to ask, why do you have that halo?"
"I knew you had something on your mind. I'm not telling you, either. Did Methos put you up to this?"
Richie flushed. "Not exactly. It was more of a combined effort."
"I told Methos I'm not talking. Let everyone speculate, it's much more fun."
"I had to try. They threatened not to let me have any of MacNair's pies tomorrow. You know how I love those pies of hers."
"Fine. You go back and tell them 'no dice.' I'm not giving anything away until I'm good and ready."
"Just a word of warning. They're determined to find out the story. I think it's Connor's turn next, so watch out. They were saying something about 'eyes'."
lahoffy grinned. "Well, this should be interesting. So, they seem to think Connor has a shot, huh? Thanks for the warning."
Richie stood, backing slowly away from the wicked gleam in her eyes. Somehow, he didn't think Connor was going to fare any better.
Connor opened the door to the rock & roll room and was surprised to hear no music. He glanced around and spotted lahoffy standing at the window, staring out.
"That you, Connor?" she asked without turning. "Come to try and get the story of the halo?"
Connor paused; something wasn't quite right. She should have been able to spot his reflection in the glass. "You OK?"
"Oh, I'm fine," she said, without turning around. "Just getting a little tired of being asked about the halo. So, what trickery do you have planned?"
Connor walked quietly over to her, laying a hand on her shoulder. "No trickery, just a polite request. Why won't you turn around?"
"Cause you'll try to use your eyes on me. You know I can't resist them. And I'm NOT giving up the story of the halo until I'm good and ready."
Connor laughed; the little lady was good, she'd already figured out what he'd use against her. "Come on, turn around," he said, turning her gently to face him.
And stopped dead in his tracks, staring.
"Something wrong, Connor?" lahoffy asked gleefully.
Connor stared in disbelief at the multitude of bandannas she had tied across her eyes. The little wench had protected herself well. He grinned ruefully. "You know, I played bagpipes in the nude for you, the least you could do is tell me about the halo."
"That won't work, either. You lost that bet, fair...well, almost fair and square. I'll tell it when I'm good and ready. And you can tell your kinsman not to bother, I won't tell him, either."
Connor laughed. "I'll tell him, but I wouldn't count on him leaving you be."
"Tell him I said 'bring it on'."
"Duncan, I'm telling you, she's being very stubborn. Refuses to say anything. I almost think she's got some stubborn Scottish blood somewhere back in her family tree," said Connor.
Duncan, Connor, Richie, and Methos stood outside the rock & roll room, debating strategies for getting the tale of the halo.
"I can get it," Duncan said confidently. "She won't be able to resist once I turn on the charm."
Methos snorted quietly into his beer. "Right. Care to make a bet?"
Richie chuckled. "I don't think you want to do that, old man. Remember the last time you made a bet and lost?"
Methos winced and backed away down the hall. "Good luck, MacLeod. You're going to need it. That woman is nearly as devious as I am."
Duncan smiled, shaking his head. Three grown men afraid of a little woman like that? Unbelievable. He opened the door to the room with a jaunty wave to the others.
Then stopped, wincing. Why did he always feel like his ears were bleeding every time he came here? Lord, that woman liked her music loud.
The music stopped abruptly, leaving a faint ringing in his head. He sighed in gratitude. "Couldn't you at least listen to opera?"
lahoffy wrinkled her nose in disgust. "No thanks, I like my music less than a couple of hundred years old. So, Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod, I assume you're here for the tale of the halo? I told Connor to tell you not to bother. I won't tell you, either."
Duncan let himself smile just the tiniest bit as he reached up and slowly began to unbutton his shirt, stretching a bit when the last one was undone to pull the shirt open wider. He shrugged his shoulders, allowing the shirt to slide slowly down his arms, coming to a stop at his wrists. He paused, posing for just a moment.
lahoffy eyed the expanse of male chest warily. She hadn't quite counted on a peep show. Could be interesting to see how far he'll go, she thought, feeling her knees weaken at the idea.
Duncan pulled the shirt off, dropping it negligently to the floor and prowling across the room toward her, the smile growing larger as she backed away. He reached for the top snap of his jeans, glad that he'd put his bathing suit on before he started this. The snap came loose, then the next one, then the next, all the while lahoffy backed up until she hit the padded wall. The jeans slipped a little, framing his hips, revealing a hint of blue swimsuit.
Duncan moved in close, pinning her against the wall, hands on either side of her head. His breath blew against her neck, as he whispered "Tell me about the halo."
lahoffy shuddered. This was dirty pool and he was going to regret it. "Duncan?" she breathed softly.
"Hmm?"
"Don't move any closer. I have a halo and I'm not afraid to use it."
Duncan felt the cold metal move against the flatness of his belly, nicking him gently. He inhaled sharply, staring into her eyes, trying to read her intentions. She stared back at him, giving away nothing in her expression.
"It's not like I really want to hurt you, but I will," she said, as she ran a hand up his chest, slowly, lingering a bit before regretfully pushing him away. "I'd regret it, but I meant what I said. I'll tell the story when I'm ready. No tricks or seduction, OK? As a matter of fact, I'll tell you first, providing you don't let the others know until I talk to them. Deal?"
Duncan nodded silently; still unable to believe she'd pulled the halo on him. "But when?"
"The par-tay is in 9 days. Meet me at the oasis the day before. Say around noon. And come ready to play sheik for me," she grinned.
Methos sat in the attic studying the little tin soldiers. Something still wasn't right with the placement. Reaching out, he gently picked one up from the center of the display, trying not to disturb the placement of the others.
A hand landed softly on his shoulder. Startled, he fell forward into the middle of it all, displacing the carefully constructed layout.
Gasping and swearing under his breath, he sat up, glancing around to see lahoffy smiling sheepishly.
"Bloody hell, you know better than to come sneaking up on an immortal like that! I swear, we ought to make you ladies wear bells."
The apology died in her throat. "Bells? You mean, like cows?" she asked, just a hint of outrage in her tone as she fingered the halo threateningly.
Whoops, wrong, wrong, wrong. "No, no, like cats do to warn mice and other prey." Which is how it feels around here somedays, prey for the CDC'ers to toy with. Not that he minded, usually. "Something on your mind?"
"Uh-huh. How would you like to know the story of the halo?"
"I'd love to. Now?"
"No, the day before the par-tay. Meet me here in the attic around 1 and don't tell anyone else that I plan on telling you. Let it be a surprise."
"Deal." Methos stopped, wondering at the look in her eyes. "You've got something planned, don't you?"
"Who me?" she asked in her best innocent voice. Good thing I left that real halo in my room, dang thing would be clanking all over the place right about now. "Nope, just thought I'd break my silence."
"Right. And I used to play tennis with King Charles the II."
lahoffy studied him carefully, wondering if he really had or not. That was a question better left to another time. Never try to con another devious soul, they know all the tricks. "Just be here, OK?"
Methos grinned. "Oh, I'll be here, wouldn't miss this for the world."
lahoffy descended the stairs from the attic, grinning softly to herself and trying to keep the giggles from surfacing. So far, so good. This little adventure should teach those immortals a lesson. Let's see, who should be next? Richie or Connor?
She hopped from the third step down to the floor, rounding the corner of the staircase. Distracted by her thoughts, she ran smack into MacNair and Sharz, who were blocking the way.
"Oops, sorry, deep in thought, didn't see you there."
Sharz stood there, arms crossed, a tiny frown marring her face. "Just what are you up to, lahoffy?"
"I don't know what you mean. I'm not up to anything," lahoffy stammered, trying to edge her way around the two.
MacNair moved slightly, blocking her escape. "We know the boys tried to get the story of the halo out of you and you refused to talk. Now, you're running around with this devious little smile on your face and wearing a fake halo."
Sharz reached up, snatching the halo off her head. "This one is made of wire and tin foil. Who do you think you're fooling?"
"It fooled Methos," she muttered. "Gimme that back."
"Not until you tell us what you're doing. Why do you need a fake halo?"
MacNair jumped up and down excitedly, waving her arms about. "Ooh, I know, I know. Cause the real one is a lie detector. She's telling tales to the boys and doesn't want to get caught in a lie." MacNair grinned happily, certain she was right.
"So what if I am? Silly boys thought they could come around and con me out of the story of the halo. When that didn't work, Connor tried with his eye thing. Then Duncan tried the old seduction routine. Humph, like they think I'm going to fall for something like that." Which I almost did.
Sharz paused, studying the indignant clansib standing in front of her. "So, you build a fake halo and do what?"
lahoffy sighed. "I'm telling each one to meet me the day before the par-tay at a different time and place, where I'll tell them about the halo."
MacNair jumped up and down again, still waving her arms about. "Oh, I get it!! And you'll tell each one something different, right? Then they'll tell each other how they have the real story, only when they compare notes, each one has something completely different from the rest."
"So which one will have the real story, lahoffy?" Sharz asked, thinking this was a great idea.
"Um, actually, none of them." lahoffy grinned wikkedly. "Thought I'd save the whole truth and nothing but for the par-tay. And this way, I can get back at the boys. If they'd just asked nicely in the first place, I might have told them. Maybe."
MacNair and Sharz fell against each other laughing. Sharz handed the fake halo back. "Go get 'em, girl!"
"Thanks. Know where Richie is by any chance?"
"Where else? The kitchen. And watch out, he was carrying the real halo with him." MacNair said.
"No problem. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve." lahoffy grinned merrily and started down the hallway for the kitchen.
Richie stared at the shelves in the pantry loaded with food. There just *had* to be something here to eat. Something even *he* could fix. Man, those cooking classes were sounding better and better.
The door shut softly behind him and he whirled to see lahoffy standing there. His eyes lit up; maybe she'd cook him something.
"Don't even think it, dear boy, it's not my turn to cook. Dinner's only a couple of hours away, surely you can hang on that long?"
Richie sighed. "But I'm starved...Methos had me varnishing the bar for hours until it was just right. Made me skip lunch and all, the slave driver."
"Oh, poor boy." lahoffy moved in closer, laying a consoling hand against his cheek. "I'm sure you'll live."
"What's with the closed door?"
"I've got a secret for you and I don't want the others to hear."
Richie grabbed her hand, which was snaking its way down from his face into the open shirt he was wearing and across his chest. Teasing he did not need right now. "And what is it? Would you stop that?" he yelped, as the other hand playfully worked its way into his shirt and down. Richie backed up, banging the back of his head against a shelf. It didn't do any good, she was still way too close and her hands seemed to be everywhere. And wasn't there something he was supposed to do? Something to do with lahoffy? Geesh, how was he supposed to think, with those hands all over him?
lahoffy grinned. "I love to tease you, you still get so flustered. Meet me here in the pantry, say around 2 the day before the par-tay and I'll tell you the story of the halo. But don't tell the others."
Richie squirmed under the gentle assault of her hands. "No problem. Just...would you please...fix me a snack?"
lahoffy laughed, "Only two things ever on your mind, eh, Richie? Come on, I think there's still some leftover chicken in the fridge."
Trailing behind him, lahoffy tucked the real halo that she had snagged from Richie without his knowing it underneath the shirt of Connor's that she had put on for just this reason. Bigger and looser, it hid the curve of the halo perfectly. Tease the boy and he's got no clue what's going on under his own dang nose, she thought.
Three down, one to go. Good thing I saved the hardest one for last.
Connor watched through the window of the hayloft as lahoffy made her way down the path to the barn. This must be mighty important, since she rarely comes down here, what with that allergic reaction she has to hay. He smiled when she stopped at the doorway below him, took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, as if she was coming to do battle. Which in a way, he supposed, she was.
lahoffy peered into the shadowy dimness of the barn, hoping to spot Connor and get him outside. But there was no sign of him. Rats! I'll have to go in after all. Steeling herself for the inevitable sneezing fits, she crossed the threshold. "Connor? Connor, are you in here?" AACHOO!
Connor's raspy voice called down from the upper reaches of the loft. "Up here." He peered over the edge, hiding a grin at the sneezing, teary-eyed girl. "Come on up, I'm just getting some fresh hay for the horses." He chuckled softly at the muttered cursing he heard drifting up.
lahoffy climbed the ladder, sneezing the whole way. This is enough to make me give up on this whole cock-eyed scheme! I'll be red-eyed and blotchy for hours. Grumbling still, she reached the top and crossed over to where Connor stood, arms crossed and the hint of a smile playing about his lips.
"Connor MacLeod, if you dare laugh at me right now, I'll use you for my next target practice, and I won't play nursemaid afterwards." The flurry of sneezing that erupted took any threat out of her words.
"So what's so all-fired important that you would actually come in here?"
Wiping her teary eyes on the sleeve of her shirt, lahoffy sneezed again. "Meet me in the tree house at 3 the day before the par-tay if you want to know the truth behind the halo. Don't tell anyone else, OK?"
"I heard something to the effect that you were telling Methos, or was it Richie? Duncan, maybe? What exactly are you up to?"
"I'm not achoo! up to anything. Please, just be there, OK?
lahoffy turned to go, only to have Connor snag her arm and turn her back. Eyes wide in surprise, she felt Connor grab the halo off her head.
"You forgot one thing, dear lass. I've worked on that halo of yours numerous times. I spotted this fake before you ever came in the door. So, the question again is, what are you up to? The only reason you would need a fake is that you're not quite telling the truth and the real halo would give you away."
lahoffy sneezed again, realizing that she was defeated. "Oh, all right. I had planned on telling each one of you a different version of the story, and save the real version for the par-tay. AAACCHOOO!! Would have worked if you hadn't been amidst all the hay."
Connor shook his head, taking pity on the girl. "I won't tell the rest what you're planning. It actually sounds kind of fun. Need some help?"
lahoffy smiled weakly, eyes streaming. "Yeah, get me out of this HAY!! I can't be devious in this condition."
Connor laughed, swinging her up in his arms, carrying her down the ladder and out of the barn to the fresh air.
A Brief Interlude:
Methos stood at the window, gazing across the compound towards the barn. "Hmm...that's interesting."
Duncan barely spared a glance at the old guy, too engrossed in the book he'd begun reading to try to take his mind off the upcoming strip tease he was facing. "What is?"
"Those two out there with their heads together, looks like they're plotting something."
"And this is news, how? There's always plotting going on between the ladies around here. Usually involving how to get our clothes off."
Richie joined Methos at the window. "But, Mac, it's not the girls, it's lahoffy and Connor."
This caught Duncan's attention. "Connor?" He stood, joining the other two in gazing out the window. Indeed, there was his kinsman sitting with lahoffy in the grass out by the barn with his head bent close to hers. Laughing.
"I've seen deviousness in action, hell, I'm devious enough to know it when I see it. Those two are most decidedly up to something."
"Man, you suppose it has anything to do with the halo?" asked Richie.
Methos smirked. "With all the speculation and rumors going around, do you think it could be anything else?"
"But what's Connor got to do with it? He doesn't know anything, and she said that she would tell..." Duncan stopped, aware that he had just about told them what lahoffy had said. "Uh, I mean, wouldn't tell anyone.
Methos glanced sidelong at Duncan. He had caught that misstep and his mind was working frantically behind his serene face. Aha! So, lahoffy was going to tell Duncan, eh? Putting that together with what she'd told him, and probably told Richie as well, the sneaky minx's plan fell into place. Hiding his grin behind his beer, he said, "Guess we'll just have to wait and see, then." And I'm going to be front and center for this little drama. Just how long was it until the par-tay now?
The Day Before The Par-Tay, 12 p.m.
Duncan lounged against the palm tree, waiting for lahoffy. He checked his watch for the fifth time in two minutes. The sound of crunching sand brought his head up and around.
"Sorry I'm late, Duncan. Methos cornered me to tell me some long-winded story about how he once danced for Cleopatra. Wasn't easy getting away from him." lahoffy sighed as she sank down to the sand next to him.
"That's OK, you're here now. Are you sure about this? You really want to tell me about the halo?"
"I said I would, I will. Let me think where to start." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "Well, it all started back in high school. I was a sophomore, and there was there really cool group of girls I wanted to hang out with. They had this strange initiation ritual. In order to join them, you had to prove that you were uh...well...a virgin. A good girl. Which at the time, I was. Stop snickering, I was, I tell you."
Duncan swallowed the laughter that was threatening to erupt, but couldn't quite wipe the grin off his face. "Sorry, do go on."
"Humph. As I was saying, they had this ritual that in order to prove you were a virgin you had to wear a halo. For a whole week. During that time, the boys were allowed to do whatever they could to make you...uh...unworthy of the halo. I said, stop snickering!! I'm being serious here!!"
Duncan chuckled. "Unworthy of the halo? Interesting choice of words."
"We were in high school, what do you expect? It was the height of coolness if you were in this group. Anyway, I lasted the week. I was worthy. But, once the week was up, the halo wouldn't leave. It stayed there, floating a couple of inches above my head, and it's been there ever since."
"That's impossible. A halo that doesn't go away? That's always with you? Those things don't happen."
lahoffy glanced sidelong at him. "This, from a man who cannot die and who's lived for over 400 years? And who just happens to know a witch named Cassandra?"
"You've got me there. So, how come you still have the halo. You're certainly not...uh, well..." Duncan stammered, avoiding her gaze.
"No, I'm not 'pure' anymore, so I don't know. It's there; I live with it. Now, I've told you the tale of the halo, I think you owe me some sheik-play."
Duncan smiled, took her by the hand and stood up, leading her to the horse that was quietly waiting and to a round of "Sheik of the Desert".
The Day Before The Par-Tay, 1 p.m.
Methos sprawled in the old recliner he'd found in the attic and had moved into a place where he could study his current display of tin soldiers. Reaching down, he snagged another beer from the cooler beside him. He heard steps behind him and grinned. Now it begins. Wonder what cock-and-bull story she's come up with? And just how much help did Connor give her?
"Hey, Methos, ready for the story?"
"Oh, yes, can't wait to hear it," he drawled.
lahoffy glanced at him suspiciously; something about his tone set off warning bells. "Scoot over." Pushing him slightly, she made room beside him.
"Sure you don't want to sit in my lap? It'd be more comfortable."
"For who? You just want to take advantage of the fact that I'm all weak and drooly over the idea of Duncan dancing tomorrow night."
Methos leered at her. "That's me, just a dirty old man. Albeit, far older than most dirty old men."
Sighing, she shook her head in exasperation. "Mind if I just get on with it? The story, that is?" At Methos' nod of assent, she began. "Well, you know how I used to be a biker babe and the notorious reputations they have? My fellow biker chicks and I decided, strictly as a joke, to do something about it. We all made up these halos and started wearing them. Sort of a way to protest our innocence, prove we weren't the bad asses we were made out to be. The guys thought it was the funniest thing they'd ever seen. So did we. That is, until I tried to remove mine and it wouldn't come off. It was almost like it was trying to tell me to settle down and be *respectable.* I finally gave up ever trying to lose it and it's still here."
"Did you come up with that, or Connor?"
"What? What do you mean? It's the truth."
"I saw you out by the barn with Connor, and Duncan had a slip of the tongue that he thought I didn't catch. You've been running around here, telling each of us a different story. Wikked girl."
lahoffy cursed under her breath. She should have known she couldn't sneak anything past the oldest living devious soul. "You won't tell, will you?"
"You kidding? I can't wait to see how this all plays out. You do plan on telling the truth tomorrow, don't you?"
lahoffy just grinned.
The Day Before The Par-Tay, 2 p.m.
Richie waited in the pantry, hoping lahoffy would show up soon. There was something about being surrounded by food that made him hungry. He absently reached out and grabbed a bag of Cheetos, surely no one would miss just one tiny bag. There were still plenty more.
"Don't let MacNair see you eating those, Rich, she's keeping careful tabs on all the food. Especially the snack-y items," lahoffy said, as she entered the pantry, closing the door behind her.
"It's just one little bag," Richie pouted, "look, there's gotta be at least 20 bags here."
"OK, don't say I didn't warn you." lahoffy sat down next to the young immortal. "Ready for the story?"
"I've been ready, I still can't believe you're going to tell me."
"It all starts way back when the show 'Charlie's Angels' was on. My friends and I loved that show; we thought it was the neatest thing that girls actually went out and kicked butt and solved mysteries. We even started playing 'Charlie's Angels' amongst ourselves..."
"Uh, wait a minute, wasn't that show on in the late 70's? Wouldn't you have been in high school? Isn't that a little bit...um..old to play?"
lahoffy glared at him. "Who's telling this story? And just what is that remark supposed to mean?"
Richie raised his arms, protesting innocence. "Nothing, nothing, go on."
"As I was saying, we loved to play Charlie's Angels. For the record, I was not too old, and we can just leave my age out of it. Where was I? So, my idea of an angel was that they wore halos, I insisted that I had to wear one. Wore it night and day. You know that old saying moms have? About you better stop making that face or it's going to stick like that? Who knew it applied to objects you wear? I've tried losing it for years, and it just keeps coming back."
Richie stared at her for a long moment. "You're kidding, right?"
"I've got a halo on top of my head. Does it look like I'm kidding?"
Richie glanced up at the halo, it was there all right. "Well, I supposed it could have happened like that. I've seen some strange things, I mean, look at me, I'm immortal, never would have believed people like me existed, if I wasn't living proof."
"Exactly. Strange things happen all the time. Pass me that bag of Chili Cheese Fritos from the shelf, would you?"
They happily munched their illicit chips, laughing at the idea that they were sneaking one past MacNair.
I'm late, I'm late, I'm late, lahoffy thought wildly. Geesh,not only am I late, I'm beginning to sound like the White Rabbit. lahoffy glanced at her watch, and cursed softly. Giving the bike more throttle, she sped up slightly as she came into view of the compound. I hate malls. I hate malls most especially at Christmas, you'd think I'd learn not to procrastinate at this time of year. But she just couldn't show up at the par-tay without those special items for Elir and Sheeza to welcome them into the Clan.
Squealing to a halt, she hastily punched in the password and passed through the gate. She tossed a beer (with the top cut open) to the lady dragon of the moat and pulled to a stop in front of the house. Dashing up the stairs she could hear the raucous merriment coming from the pool area.
Good. I have time to comb this helmet hair and gather my thoughts before anyone knows I'm here.
A few minutes later, hair combed, dressed in her swim suit, she paused, taking in the scene before her.
Duncan was tending the barbecue as always, with lynnann standing nearby wearing her mysterious smile. Connor was giving breathing lessons to MacNair and Sharz. Kyrdwyn was sprawled in Methos' lap, munching on ding-dongs. Sheeza, Elir, and hayden seemed overwhelmed with all the noise and goings on. I think we all looked like that at our first par-tay.
"I'm here," she announced simply.
Kyrdwyn squealed and came running for a hug. It'd been a while since they'd last seen each other. Within a few minutes, the entire clan (and several immortals) had surrounded her, demanding the tale of the halo,
"Geesh, give a girl a break, will ya? At least give me one of those Pepsis, please? Road thirst, you know?
Richie handed her one, a slight glare on his face. "I thought I was the one you were telling the story to first, then I found out you told Duncan and Methos. Different stories. What gives?"
"Just a little joke, Rich, to throw you guys off the track and give me some breathing room. The truth of the halo is really quite boring."
"Boring, shmoring, just tell us already!" chimed in Sheeza.
"It all started one day shortly after the clan came into being. We were all drooling over the boys here and making, *ahem,* un-ladylike comments. I was accused of having a gutter mind and when I protested my innocence, I said, "See, I have the halo to prove it. And, viola, there it was." She shrugged. "In case you haven't noticed, this place is very special--magical, you might say. Words spoken, thoughts you think can sometimes take form. How do you think the house keeps growing? And all the additions to it since? For goodness sake, we have a beer-drinking lady dragon in the moat!!
She paused, taking a sip of Pepsi. "I think it's the love for the boys and the love we have for each other that creates the magic. Whatever it is, I'm thankful for it. Thankful for each and every one of you."
She reached into the bag she was holding. "These are for you, Sheeza and elir. My gift to welcome you into the clan." Smiling, she handed them each their very own personalized halos. "We all have them, now you do as well. Welcome to the clan, girls. Let's PAR-TAY!!"
~finis~
lahoffyCDC
>BR>November 2001
SheezaCDC
LOL! Boy, I sure can picture Duncan and that hat!
MacNair: "Please, Duncan, won't you let me try it on?"
Duncan: "No way! You just want the feather."
MacNair: (Looking innocent and batting her eyelashes) "Why whatever for? I just wanna try it on."
Duncan: "Nuh-uh, nothing doing. If I let you have it, I'll get it back either without the feather, or it'll be broken or something."
Connor enters the room in time to see Duncan holding a giant sultan's hat replete with a glorious feather waving around wildly above his head. MacNair, being diminutive, is jumping up and down trying to bat it out of his hands.
MacNair: "Come on! Gimmee! I want it!"
Connor: "Uh, Cousin? It isn't safe to tease MacNair like that. You should know better. Can't you see she has her pointy .....Ewww, that's gotta hurt!"
Duncan drops the hat after a swift, yet small well-aimed pointy shoe caught him in the shin. Bending over, he rubs his leg furiously, trying to rid himself of the pain. "You'd better watch out, Connor, she's got the feather."
Connor: "Uh oh! Dang it, Duncan!"
MacNair picked up the hat, looking at her prize. Plucking the plume from the folds of material, a wikked gleam was in her eye to match her smile.
Glancing over her shoulder, she spied Connor, his eyes wide open with an expression of surprise tinged with fear. Not taking his eyes off the wily CDC'er, he started edging back toward the door he had so recently entered.
Duncan: "RUN!"
Turning on his heels, Connor shot out the door, the blonde streaking behind him hot on his trail.
Duncan winced at his painful shin, a smile on his lips. "Well," he said, "now that was easy."
Giggles could be heard outside on the lawn. Moving to the window, Duncan burst into laughter at the sight. MacNair had Connor down on the ground and she straddled his chest. The giant feather......
MacNairCDC --- Roaring!
The giant feather could reach anywhere her hands and fingers couldn't from her position and she industriously put it to good use. Connor was half yelping, half-sniggering beneath the onslaught.
"Tell me!" she demanded, pinning his shoulder down with one knee when he attempted to flip her off. "Tell me what you know about that halo of lahoffy's!"
"I don't know a thing! She wouldn't TALK, I'm tellin' you!" he sputtered, twisting the other way. He was leaving an imprint in the grass.
MacNair shifted her weight to the other knee and hissed right into his face: "But you WENT IN THERE! You used that ... that ... look you have!"
"She had blindfolds on, MacNair!" he protested. "She knew I was coming!"
The feather stopped. So did the intense pressure of her knees. Connor stopped writhing and looked up at the puzzled expression of the little blonde. A little blonde with a mean feather, he mentally chuckled.
"You don't know." She announced it in a stunned voice.
"I told you I didn't know anything!" he protested, putting on his very best vulnerable hurt expression. His brows puckered just a little.
"Oh, you poor sweet boy," she murmured, trailing the soft plume along one clavicle, up his throat and across his jaw. "And I've tormented you dreadfully for nothing!? Oh! I must make amends! What would you like?"
"The usual. Just add the feather."
"Hey, now that's not right!" Duncan muttered from his window observation post. He watched Connor be tugged to his feet and led away with this positively rogue expression on his face ... swishing the feather at various parts of MacNair's anatomy as he walked. "That's just not right! I'm the one who had the feather first!" He glanced around for supporters and all he found was the forgotten turban. "I think I've been set up!"
"Hey, Duncan?" called Connor from a distance. "Thanks for the feather!"
~finis~
Hell's Angel
MacWessoned Adult Themes
Dust Buffalo Stampede
Where There's Smoke
The Paintball Fight
The Sea Is Full of CDCers!
How Lahoffy Got Her Halo
Feather Tales
The Moat
Tue, 7 Aug 2001
August 14, 2001
August 19, 2001
Duncan.
In.
Chaps.
On.
Horseback.
~Woof-da!~
My.
Aug. 30, 2001
Oct. 6, 2001
Oct 23, 2001
Nov 25, 2001
