Listening to the two women stumbling around in the dark below, Lestat smiled and turned to face his companions. He leaned bonelessly against the stone wall surrounding the balcony that faced down into the main chamber of Hilfiger Castle.
"You two are lucky you know. You've been given a chance that I ... never had. You have a way out of this curse as I've explained it to you," Lestat said, his arms folded across his chest.
Methos looked a little more pale than usual, his lips pink against alabaster white skin. Glancing anxiously toward the man next to him, he was the first to speak.
"All right. I understand the hows and whys of this thing. But what I don't understand is how you got involved in this ... this ... ." Unable to find the right words, Methos threw up his hands in defeat.
Lestat glanced over his shoulder when he heard one of the women suddenly cry out. She apparently had tripped over an uneven stone in the floor, landing on her hands and knees. Smirking, he turned back to the men.
Pacing back and forth in front of them, Lestat grinned, showing his fangs. "Quite simple really. Those damnable gypsies never forget anything. Everything good and everything bad that happens to them is brought down generation to generation as family legend, as part of their history if you will. They don't stop until both sides are even. Till old scores ... or debts for that matter ... are even. Repaid as it were. You've pissed them off because of the whole Irina and Jakob dabacle. Hence the curses my friends."
Duncan was quite shaken by his new vampiric talents. It was nothing to him that he was immortal, as he'd already been that for over four hundred years. But what he was having difficulty with was the amazing level to which his senses were heightened.
Even though it was quite dark where they now stood, he was surprised that not only could he see his hand in front of his face quite clearly, he could also see the cockroach crawling on the floor near his shoe. In mild disgust for the loathsome insect, he stepped on it, oddly satisfied with the crackling crunch that reached his ears.
And his hearing! It was if the entire castle was wired for sound! He could hear the hissing of the gas fed torches that lined the hallways. He smiled as he picked up on a nest of mewling baby rats and their mother scurrying against the stone wall returning to them. Somewhere, he could hear the dry rustling sounds of batwings, thousands upon thousands of them as the creatures stirred restlessly. And down below, he heard the whimpered panting of a single woman as she stood up, aided by another. Her knee had been skinned when she fell. He could smell the blood.
The blood. Duncan trembled, uncertainty filling every fiber of his being.
***Is this what it is to be like Lestat?***
Breathing deeply, he tasted the odor of free flowing blood running down that woman's leg. And it was good.
"... and so, I ended up owing them a future obligation." Sighing wistfully, Lestat tossed his blonde mane. "That was over one hundred and thirty years ago and I never could figure a way out of it. I'm taking a risk even telling you as much as I am. I hope you can appreciate this." Lestat brought his hands together, his fingers interlacing like a member of the clergy.
"So let me see if I understand then," Duncan began, desperately seeking to organize in his mind what had happened to Methos and himself. "Jakob's tribe decided that we were to be punished for letting Jakob die. They have set upon us this curse of being vampires with your assistance. You helped because you owed them a blood debt. And now you are saying that this curse can be temporary if, and only if, we each find someone to willingly give themselves to us? We cannot just feed; this person has to allow it freely? But how are we to do that?"
Lestat again leaned out over the balcony wall and watched the two women slowly making their way across the grand hall. Beckoning to them, he was soon joined by Methos and Duncan.
"During tourist season, there is always an idiot or two who hide from their groups, planning to spend the night in the castle. Happens almost every week. Sometimes more. Guess they get a thrill out of it, I don't know. Damnable place is drafty as hell, and really cold when they turn off the heat for the night. There is no food, not real food anyway ... no running water except for the toilets those people built next to the lower kitchen. Every year, people go missing ... ."
"Because of you?" Methos glanced over to the blonde haired vampire, his eyes narrowed to mere slits, scrutinizing this other type of immortal.
"If not me, then someone else. There are a number of blood drinkers that visit this place. Food is bountiful this time of year. When those fools stay behind, they run the risk of disappearing for good. No one knows what happens to them, nobody cares. And funny ... few are even noticed once they are gone since most of them are women. They are nobody people with nobody lives, excited by things old and long since dead."
"Like you?" The old man chuckled. He stopped suddenly, realizing that he could fit into that very category himself.
"Like me," Duncan whispered, remembering all the people in his life, a string of faces flashing against the back of his mind. A sadness filled him suddenly, thinking of how he stepped from life to life, generation to generation, each one like a stepping stone across some never ending brook. His life as an immortal had to remain low-key, out of the limelight, always moving on before someone noticed something they shouldn't, unless he let them close to him.
"Well, if you want to end this quickly," Lestat began, impatient to be on his way, "there are two women down there. Maybe, just maybe you can convince them to offer themselves to you. Use your charm," he said with a slight sneer.
"No! I'll not kill anyone," the Highlander hissed, his voice angry and tight. "I'll not kill an innocent to break this curse! It's not right, and I want no part in it!"
Lestat arched backward, his smile seeming more like a grimace than one of mirth. It was eerie to watch him laugh so hard and yet make no sound. Quickly he grew serious and looked at Duncan in earnest. "You speak as if you have a choice. I'm telling you now, a choice is something you do not have. You have been cursed, and as for my part in it I'm sorry."
Methos faced Duncan, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You want to be a vampire for the next four hundred years MacLeod?" He snatched his hand away, unused to the feel of the heavy material used in the dark cloak the Scot was covered with.
"Lestat, what's with the capes anyway? What part of the curse says we have to dress up in these god-awful clothes? Or have these awful little mustaches?" Methos spread apart his own cape, all black and lined with a blood red velvet. The collar stood up around his head, stiff and black around his whitened face. "And this suit? I look like frigging Bela Lugosi in it!"
With a riffling sound, Methos swept the cape upward to obscure the lower part of his face. From behind it he uttered a muffled "Bwahahahaha!"
"Cut it out Methos," said Duncan, his own hands fussing with the clothing he wore. "It looks nice."
"Well I'm off," replied Lestat, lightly leaping onto the balcony wall. "You know what you have to do to end this. The longer you wait, the hungrier you'll get. And that, my friends, will be your undoing. If you take your first blood from an unwilling source, you will be vampires until the day someone stakes you, takes your head or turns you out into the sun. Think about it." With a grand flourish of his cape, Lestat jumped.
Both immortals looked around quickly, trying to see where the blood drinker had gone. It was as though Lestat had vanished right before their eyes. A tiny skittering sound from above caused them to look up. There he was, perched on the ledge of a tiny window near the cathedralesque ceiling. With a tiny salute, their immortal counterpart, the vampire, departed.
Methos looked around, alternately squinting and opening his eyes wide. Like MacLeod, he was amazed with his new vampire sight. He was distracted from his night vision by the sounds of something going on below them. Leaning over the wall, he cocked his head to listen. After a few seconds his mouth fell open in wonder, revealing newly formed razor sharp fangs. "MacLeod," he whispered, "can you hear their hearts beating?"
"Aye, Methos. I can hear them." Duncan's accent had thickened with the stress of becoming what he now was ... an immortal vampire. And true to Lestat's information, he could feel a hunger building within him. The smell of the blood from a few minutes earlier had awakened a thirst within him. He'd seen enough movies and read enough books to know that what he was feeling was what some had called, 'blood thirst'.
Methos straightened and propelled himself upward, a jump that took him to the ceiling before he drifted back down. Grinning, he rubbed his fingers together, finding that he liked the sandpapery sound that reached his preternatural ears. Stepping back, he did a backflip, landing on his feet with more grace than he was used to. Quickly, he fumbled with the heavy cloth, yanking on his cape to free his trapped head from it's bulkiness.
"To hell with this cape," he snarled as he ripped at the hook and eye that held it fastened around his neck.
Duncan agreed. While it was warming enough, he found it hindered him more than his regular coat did. Besides, the first thing he noticed was that there was no place to stash his katana. With a quick grin, he wished there was truth to the legend of *Katana Space*. Unhooking his own cape and let it fall to the stones at his feet.
"Methos, I cannae kill one of those women to end this curse. Cannae ye no understand tha'?"
"Then don't MacLeod. And get a grip on yourself. It's not that bad. I think I might just take one and be done with this. I like these new senses. I will certainly have the upper hand in fighting another immortal."
Suddenly, the old man was filled with the idea and curiosity of what it would be like to drink the blood of a human.
***How would it differ from an animal? Wouldn't really be so bad to be a vampire for the *next* five thousand years would it? Blood is protein, and in some cultures, they still drink it today. ***
"Well MacLeod, no time like the present." Leaping onto the wall as Lestat had, Methos looked down at his friend. "I think I'll get this over with. See you when I'm through."
Duncan leaned over the wall and watched Methos seemingly float down to the floor below. The women they had been watching had vacated the vaulted room and had disappeared down one of the many hallways that branched away from this center chamber.
Laying his head on his hands, he was overwhelmed with the knowledge of what he had become and what he would have to do to dispel the gypsy curse of Jakob's people. His eyes brimmed with his sadness, the scent of his blood tears wafting to his nostrils.
Feeling his stomach clench in a stronger hunger pang than he had ever felt before, Duncan leapt on to the wall and dropped down after Methos.
lahoffy and Sheeza walked slowly down the hallway, torches sputtering and giving off wavering light on each side. The flames were spaced some distance apart with shadows forming between each circle of light.
Wincing, Sheeza stopped, bending down to examine her skinned knee. "Oh, lahoffy," she moaned, "it's still bleeding! I sure hope I don't get tetanus or anything."
lahoffy stopped and turned. She felt badly for her friend and felt a little guilty too. It had been her idea to spend the night in the castle. Their 'once-in-a-lifetime' trip to sightsee had been fun so far, and to explore the castle on their own for a night seemed an opportunity too good to pass up.
"Oh God, Sheeza, I'm so sorry! Does it hurt much? Here, I'm going to grab one of these torches. We need better light."
Stepping up to one of them, lahoffy grabbed it and pulled. Nothing happened. Putting her back into it, she twisted the pole one way and then the other. With a final gravelly screech, she wrested the torch from its holder, only to watch it gutter and die out in her hands. A hissing sound made her look up and she realized then that they weren't real but burning gas just like the stove she had at home.
Tossing the now-dead torch aside, she came back and laid a gentle hand on Sheeza's arm.
"Come on. Let's go find some place to sit down. The snack bar is down in the lower kitchen where the bathrooms are. Do you think you can make it that far? There's probably a first aid kit there too."
"Yeah, I think so. I'm thirsty too. Let's go. Sorry about the torch though. It was a good idea," Sheeza replied.
lahoffy looked at the dead torch on the floor and rolled her eyes up to the ceiling, which she couldn't see in the darkness. "Yeah, medieval castle with gas torches. Who'da thunk it?"
Giggling, the women headed up the hallway, unaware of the two sets of eyes watching them.
"Well, MacLeod? Which one do you want? I want the short one with the long brown hair." Methos didn't even wait for an answer before making his choice known.
His eyes glittered in the little light that reached them. Running his tongue over his fangs, Duncan felt the thirst rising, already feeling a bit dizzy from the scent of Sheeza's bloodied knee.
"Can't you smell it Methos? The blood?"
Methos' eyes flicked over to his friend, faintly surprised to see the Highlander licking his lips. Breathing in through his nose, he too picked up the full ripe scent that MacLeod spoke of. His mouth watered and his stomach gurgled, demanding it be fed and soon.
"Oh. Uh-oh. Are you all right Mac? Are you in control?"
"For now old friend, for now. But I feel ... I feel ... ." A low rumbling growl emanated from the Scot as he drifted slowly up the hall, following the two women.
Not being able to tell if that sound came from Duncan's mouth or his stomach, Methos had no choice but to follow him and them and what lay in store for them all.
Handing Sheeza a gauze pad, lahoffy directed her to hold it against her knee while she moved over to the reach-in cooler for a Pepsi and a Diet Coke.
"You'll be feeling right as rain with this," lahoffy said as she handed her friend the Coke. "Always works for me."
Popping the top to her Pepsi, lahoffy wandered over to the little snack aisle before settling on something a bit more substantial in the nearby food case. "Sheeza? Want a burrito?"
Sheeza hissed as she removed the bandage from her knee, happy that the bleeding had finally slowed to just a bit of weeping. "Sure. What kinds are there?"
Not hearing an answer, she looked up and looked around the kitchen. Her eyes flashed back and forth, scanning the now empty room. "lahoffy?"
Hiding in the shadows of the hallway next to the cold foods case, Methos watched as the one named lahoffy moved around, assisting the other one. His eyes were glued to her neck. His tongue absently snaked out from between his fangs and slithered along his lower lip, hunger and want meshing and unmeshing inside him.
In the low light of the kitchen, he could see the vein in her neck pulsing. He could hear the blood rushing through her veins as her pounding heart beat in a mesmerizing rhythm.
Breathing in, he could smell the unmistakable scent of vanilla. He was surprised when he thought "Man, she smells good enough to eat!" A split second later he saw the truth to that and made his move.
Waiting for his moment, he watched as lahoffy turned her head and offered the other one, Sheeza, a burrito.
Using his newly-gained gift of preternatural speed, Methos leaped from the shadows, clapped his hand over his soon-to-be-victim's mouth and dragged her back into the darkness without making a sound.
Watching from a different hallway, all of which converged into the kitchen area, Duncan saw Methos spirit away his intended victim. Knowing and feeling the gnawing hunger he felt within him, he could only hope that Methos would be able to convince the woman to give herself to him before the curse drove him to madness and toward something he would regret for all eternity.
"lahoffy?" Duncan heard this and knew his time had come. He was standing behind the woman, Sheeza, so when he stepped out of the darkness of the shadows, she didn't see him right away.
"Ahem." He straightened his jacket, picking at some unseen lint before running his hands over his hair. He was nervous and wanted to make a good impression.
Turning around in her chair, she saw him standing in deep shadow. Fear clutched at her heart, for she and lahoffy thought they would be alone in the castle. lahoffy had promised her that.
"Who are you? What do you want?"
"Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you." Duncan held his hands out with the palms up and fingers splayed, an attempt to show her he meant her no harm. "My name is Duncan MacLeod, and please, may I come closer? I must speak with you and I have little time."
Breathing harshly through her nose, lahoffy was paralyzed with fear. She couldn't see a thing but she did know that she was being carried in someone's arms and this man *Man?* was running.
Feeling the chilled soda slosh out of the can and run over her hand, she was instantly peeved, realizing that all the gas was being jostled out of what little soda was left. It was bad enough that she hadn't gotten to drink any yet. Now she was being kidnapped!
Suddenly very angry, she started kicking her legs hoping to crack her attacker a good one in the shins. She made contact several times before the man stopped. Because he had grabbed her from behind and had wrapped an arm around her when he picked her up, she hadn't seen who had taken her.
Dropping to the floor, she landed on her knees and almost dropped her Pepsi.
"Now that's it! Now you've done it you creep!" lahoffy was so angry, her chest was heaving in righteous indignation at the treatment she had received.
Looking around, it came to her that wherever she was, it was pitch dark. She couldn't even see the can in her hand. Tipping it back, she downed the remaining Pepsi, grimacing at the flatness of the soda. "Now the darned soda is flat, you weasel!"
Methos leaned against the wall near her, smiling. His arms were crossed, and he had one leg cocked and resting against the other that held his weight. He couldn't help but chuckle at this woman he'd made off with.
"Is that how you talk to all your attackers M'lady?"
A soft, slightly accented voice came out of the void, one so smooth and silky and full of amusement, lahoffy didn't know whether to spit or grin.
"Light a match and I'll tell you what else I do to my attackers you jerk! Yeah, come a little closer and ... ."
Methos casually reached up and turned the knob on the gas torch near his head. It clicked, coughed, sputtered and burst into flame, lighting the small chamber they stood in. It was very dim, but still enough for them to see each other and make out the lay of the room.
lahoffy got to her feet and backed away from the tall figure, stopping only when her heels hit something hard. With a surprised yelp she sat down, fortunately on a trunk. A quick look around told her she was in a bed chamber, with a grand four poster bed replete with canopy and bed drapes.
Any other time and she would have been excited to see such a beautiful room. But now, fear was her companion and terror its cohort.
"Did anybody ever tell you you're cute when you're angry?"
"Yes, you can come closer. Take a chair. What do you want with me? I ... we have nothing. My friend is around here somewhere. She will be right back." Sheeza was wary of the tall gentlemen elegantly dressed, and she couldn't help but notice his amazing yet pale good looks.
Duncan stepped away from the shadows and into the light of the nearby torches. He faced her at all times, pulling a chair closer to her before sitting down.
"I have a problem and I need your help."
Sheeza quickly inspected him, her eyes moving across him, judging for herself what he might be about.
Duncan knew what she was doing and sat quietly, allowing her to finish. He wasn't very comfortable, his hunger gnawed at him. The smell of fresh blood hung in the air and it made him light headed.
Wearing a dark suit, Duncan was quite handsome. His hair was neatly pulled back and bound with his favorite hair tie, the MacLeod crest. The ends were long enough that the ponytail hung down his back several inches, and showed that his hair tended to be naturally wavy. Sheeza wondered how soft it was and wanted to touch it to find out.
Clearing her throat and smiling a bit, Sheeza chastised herself for such thoughts. Resuming her inspection, she saw that his shoes were shined and sparkling.
"What do you need my help with Mr. MacLeod?"
"First you attack me, then you drag me off to this room, and NOW you tell me I'm cute? Mister, you've got problems!"
The blunt truth of her words hit Methos like a ton of bricks. Shrugging indifferent, he quietly agreed that maybe he did have problems.
In this enclosed space, her vanilla body scent assaulted his senses, overwhelming him. In response, he opened his mouth, exposing sharp white fang teeth.
lahoffy screamed, the sight of those teeth were more of a shock than she could handle.
Methos, brought back to himself, flew across the room and pulled her into his arms. His strength was no match for her and though she fought him, he was able to contain her while he whispered for her to calm down. A moment later, lahoffy fainted. He brushed her hair back, shushing her; wiping at her tears.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I didn't mean to frighten you. Please. It's all right. I need your help. Can you help me?"
The blood-curdling shriek resounded throughout the castle, the wail of someone very frightened. Sheeza and Duncan traded glances before quickly rising from their chairs and running headlong in the direction Methos had taken lahoffy.
The pain in her knee was sharp and Sheeza stumbled, slowing down immediately. "You ... go on," she panted, "save her. Help my friend, please!" She waved Duncan to hurry on without her. She was afraid that something terrible may have happened.
Duncan thought swiftly, and made his decision. In the blink of an eye, he returned, scooped her up into his arms, and flew down the hall. "METHOS!"
Bursting through the doorway, Duncan and Sheeza saw their friends, locked in an embrace.
"Methos! Don't do this! You can't do this! Please! We'll find a way!"
Sheeza looked up into the eyes of the man carrying her. She had heard him pleading with the other one, his voice emotional and full of concern. In the low light, she saw his face work, expression after expression flashing across his countenance.
"Put me down please," she whispered.
Methos looked up at Duncan. In his arms, was the limp form of Sheeza's friend lahoffy.
"Don't do what MacLeod? Don't catch her when she was falling in a dead faint? Don't stop her from cracking her head open on the stone floor and *bleed* all over the place? Don't what MacLeod? Can't do what MacLeod?!"
Inside, Methos' guts were roiling, churning and screaming out for him to sink his fangs into that unprotected neck his fangs were so close to.
He clenched his teeth, locking his jaws together. His fangs bit into his lower lip. Methos could taste his own blood and the rush it gave as it flooded his mouth was like nothing he'd ever experienced.
A growl began, low and feral. Methos battled strongly the urge to plunge his fangs into lahoffy. Seeing her in his arms however, his face softened for a moment.
***She's kinda cute when she's not being nasty ... .***
In hungered anguish, he twisted and dropped her onto the bed before clenching his fists and pounding them against his thighs. "GAAH! I could be both MacLeod! I can be immortal and a vampire! I know it!"
Desperately holding back his own unwanted urge to feed, Duncan thought quickly for something to say. In split second, the answer came to him.
"You can't have it both ways Methos. You can't be an immortal and a vampire. It won't work."
"And why the hell not?!" Methos glared at the Scot, challenging him to explain.
Sheeza looked from Duncan to Methos, intrigued yet afraid to go to the aid of her friend. She seemed to have been forgotten for the moment, so she took a tentative step towards the bed.
"Too many rules old friend. Too many rules. Haven't you forgotten one?"
Reaching her friend, Sheeza lifted uplLahoffy and sat down, pulling her into her arms. Brushing her hair back, she checked to make sure she was alive and breathing. She was. Breathing a sigh of relief... she patted lahoffy's cheek, attempting to wake her.
Pacing back and forth, Methos took on the air of a caged beast. Every few seconds, his eyes wandered to the women on the bed and he would grimace as though in pain. Shaking his head violently, he resumed his pacing.
Duncan stood in place, comfortably still with his hands behind his back in a regal stance. In truth, he was digging his nails into his palms in an attempt to remain in control over his vampire hunger. The downside to this was the pungent odor of blood wafting up and around his head. Closing his eyes, he willed himself not to breath in the heady scent.
"What are you talking about? What bloody rules? We both know the rules! The Gathering? We know this MacLeod!"
With an air of calm clarity, Duncan strode over to Methos and grabbed him by the lapel. With a nod of his head, he pulled the old man along with him to the other side of the bedroom.
lahoffy came to her senses quickly, slapping at Sheeza's hand. Her eyes were wide with fear, but seeing her friend above her calmed her down a bit.
"Shh... it's all right," Sheeza whispered. With her eyes, she dragged lahoffy's along with hers till they were both looking at the men standing next to the torch.
Hitching her butt over a little, lahoffy turned enough so that she could see them regular and not upside down.
***Ah. Better. What the blue blazes is going on?!*** It was only a few seconds before lahoffy remembered what had happened.
"Sheeza," she whispered back, "that guy ... he's ... he's ... I swear to you, he's a vampire," she hissed. "Got fangs and everything! What's going on?"
Leaning in but not taking her eyes off the dark haired man who ran with her in his arms, Sheeza spoke. "Really? I didn't see that. I don't know what's going on yet, but I expect we'll find out soon enough. The cutey guy said his name is Duncan MacLeod. Did you catch the other one's name?"
Glaring up at Sheeza, lahoffy wasn't sure if she'd heard correctly. "You mean *before* or *after* he grabbed me and brought me here? No. You're right. I should have asked for a formal introduction right *after* he bared those wicked fangs at me! Is that right?!"
Tearing her eyes from the MacLeod fellow, Sheeza returned the glare her friend had tossed at her. "Jeez, melodramatic much? Did he hurt you?"
"He killed my Pepsi!"
"Did he hurt you?"
"The ... the fangs!"
"Did... he... *hurt*... you?"
"Frell!"
Giggling, Sheeza pushed lahoffy into an upright position and sitting on her own. She let her go with a brief hug. "Thought so. Now be quiet. I wanna know what's going on."
"I don't appreciate you dragging me around like that MacLeod," Methos huffed, as he straightened his jacket and pulled down his sleeves. "I'm not a child," he mumbled petulantly.
Duncan scowled, jerking his head towards the ladies on the bed. "You know better than to discuss the Gathering in front of mortals! Now what happened in here?"
Leaning against the wall with his shoulders slumped, Methos looked down at the floor, his fingers picking at the side pleats in his trousers.
"It all happened so fast ... ."
"What made her scream?"
Methos sighed deeply; his shoulders slumping even lower than before. Jamming his hands into his pockets, he shook his head. "I did. I think I hissed at her and showed my fangs. But God MacLeod! Did you catch her delicious smell? Just couldn't help myself," he finished with a shrug.
"So you weren't going to bite her?"
"No! I swear! Well, maybe a little bit, but honest, I didn't want to!"
Duncan turned back to the ladies but Methos laid a hand on his arm and turned him back. "So what rule is it you think I've forgotten MacLeod? Why *can't* I be immortal and vampire?"
Nodding his head, the Scot gently smiled at the old man. It was simple, but then again it wasn't.
"Methos, vampires sleep all day, hidden away from the sun. Your immortality is like a beacon, sending out its signal to other immortals. If one should come calling while you are asleep, you won't do well in defending yourself, now will you? You'll lose your head and be dust. Or, they could stake you. Poof! Gone!" Duncan clapped his hands together for emphasis.
Realization dawned on the old man in degrees, his face showing understanding as this information was absorbed.
Duncan could readily see that Methos had woke up to facing the realities of what was so wrong with being an vampiric immortal.
"Gods! That never occurred to me! Quite right MacLeod." Methos grimaced as his stomach growled quite loudly. Rubbing his hand over his abdomen, he looked up at Duncan through his eyelashes. "I think we'd better do something about this curse, and I think it's got to be soon. I'm ravenous, and I can feel myself losing my sense of decency."
Duncan's mouth took on a sarcastic grin. "What decency, old man?"
The two vampires turned as one and stood facing the ladies on the bed.
Duncan placed his hands behind his back, once more digging his nails into the palms. He wanted to be in complete control and the pull of his rising vampirism was stronger than ever. Letting his eyes roll to his right, he could see Methos had gone back to clenching his jaw. He could hear the old man's fangs gnashing together as he ground his teeth.
"Excuse me?"
Sheeza stood up from the bed and straightened her dress. She winced as the edges of her skinned knee pulled apart, the wound breaking open again.
"Would you please tell us what's going on here? You sir, why did you bring Lahoffy in here against her will?"
Methos looked at the woman with an appraising eye, mildly surprised at the way she asked her questions so abruptly. Opening his mouth to speak, he was interrupted.
"Well?! Speak up jerkface! You drag me in here, you ruin my Pepsi, you flirt with me, you scare the crap outta me and then you attack me! Can't wait to see what you do for an encore!" lahoffy took a deep breath after her tirade, and then hrumphed for good measure.
"lahoffy ... not the time hon," Sheeza mumbled, batting at her friend's arm in hopes of quieting her down.
His face colored a deep red, though only Duncan could see it clearly in the darkened room. "M'lady," Methos began, bowing deeply from the waist and sweeping his arm wide, "I humbly beg your forgiveness for my ... er ... indiscretions. I've been a cad."
"A cad he says! Hoo! Get a load of Mr. Fancypants over there!" lahoffy smirked meanly at Methos, more than a little pleased at his words although she didn't quite believe them.
"Why you bi... ."
"Me-thos ... ." Duncan growled, looking so fiercely at the older immortal that Methos could have almost sworn the Highlander's eyes glowed in the dim light.
Methos stepped back mumbling under his breath. "She started it."
"Ladies, I'm very sorry for how things have gone so far. I assure you, we intend you both ... ."
"Speak for yourself MacLeod."
Duncan glowered at Methos, and this time the old man was certain he saw glowing eyes in his friend. He gulped and let his mouth snap shut.
"As I was saying ... " the Scot continued, "we intend you *both* no harm."
Sheeza smiled tentatively, nerves sparking a near giggle fit. She silently cursed herself for this fault of hers. "I'm sure Mr. MacLeod. Do you ... I mean, would you mind though if we took this into a room with a little more light? I'm sure Lahoffy and I would be much more comfortable say, back in the kitchen?"
Methos took a step closer and brought his arm up as if to display the bedroom for interested customers. "What's wrong with right here?"
lahoffy, about to bark out a derisive laugh, thought better of it at the last moment and coughed to cover it up. "Bad memories," she sputtered.
Duncan smiled at lahoffy, and grinned at Sheeza, careful to conceal his fangs. "I think it's a fine idea. I'm sure that lahoffy must also be thirsty, since she lost her drink earlier."
Offering his arm to Sheeza, he smiled his most charming closed mouth smile. "Shall we?"
Sheeza looked at the offered arm and then at her friend. The eyes that looked back at hers told of the untold horrors that would be visited upon her if she even considered abandoning her friend for MacLeod.
Clearing her throat, Sheeza looked from Duncan to Methos. "I think it's best if you and Duncan walk together and Lahoffy and I walk together, don't you?"
"All right," Duncan said, his arm showing them the doorway, "after you."
"Uh-huh, yeah, I'm gonna walk down a dark hallway with Fangface behind me. Saaayy... MacLeod is it? You got fangs too?"
Methos rolled his eyes and threw his arms up in the air in exasperation. "Come on MacLeod! Move your ass MacLeod! Mustn't keep the *ladies* waiting MacLeod!"
Stomping past a suddenly flustered MacLeod, Methos stormed through the doorway and disappeared in the blackness.
Duncan chuckled nervously, shrugging and holding his hands up in a half hearted gesture of apology. Quickly, he moved to follow Methos. Stopping at the doorway, he turned. "You coming?"
Entering the kitchen area, Duncan found Methos pacing back and forth muttering to himself. Whatever the man was saying, he wasn't very happy hearing it either. Listening for the ladies behind him, he figured they had a minute or two before they joined them.
"Methos, why are you so upset? Calm down. This isn't going to get you anywhere."
He stopped pacing and stared at the Scot. "Don't you think I know that? Gods! I'm so hungry, I almost feel like I could eat my own hand! What's wrong with me?" Reaching out, he grabbed an oversized muffin off a pastry rack. Holding it to his nose, he breathed in its scent through the plastic.
In a grimace of disgust, he crushed it in his hand, the plastic bursting, muffin bits falling to the floor. "Banana nut," he growled vehemently, "and I liked banana nut!"
Stalking over to his friend, Methos reached out and took Duncan roughly by the shoulders and shook him, making MacLeod's ponytail dance at the back of his neck. "I'm gonna bite her, MacLeod! And, it's gonna taste so good ... ." Methos' voice trailed off as his eyes took on a distant look. The old man's mouth opened and Duncan could see a tongue slide along his lower lip before curling around a razor-sharp fang.
Duncan's heart clenched, fear and concern that time was too short for Methos and himself to convince Sheeza and lahoffy to help them, before their vampire hunger grew too great for them to control.
Breathing deeply, he slapped Methos hard across the face.
Methos rocked back on his heels, a pale white hand reaching for the spot where he'd been struck. His eyes grew wide and he looked back at Duncan with surprise. "What the hell was that for?"
"Hit me."
"What?!?"
Duncan closed his eyes, upper and lower lashes meshing together creating a thick black line. His nostrils flared as he ground his teeth together. Strong hands curled into fists as he drove his nails once again into the palms of his hands. He spoke again in a deep, yet strong voice.
"Hit me, Methos, like I did you."
Methos' eyes narrowed, a thin grin forming on his lips. "With pleasure ... ."
Drawing back as if to throw a baseball out of the park, Methos swung with all his might, putting all his power into the blow he dealt his friend. He supposed there should have been some guilt, but with the way Methos felt at the moment, all he felt was satisfaction, and damned little of it at that!
Duncan staggered back, his ears ringing, his head thudding from the bolt of pain coursing up and down the side of his head. In seconds, it was gone, but he felt clearer in his mind, and more in control.
"Good," he whispered.
"What the hell was that?"
lahoffy glanced quickly at Sheeza, both of them hearing a loud crack that seemed to echo repeatedly down the hallway past them.
"Dunno, lahoffy, but guess we'll find out in a second."
The two ladies stepped into the light of the kitchen and stared at the two men. Both of them turned to look at them. They could see that both men sported identical faint pink handprints on their faces.
lahoffy and Sheeza looked at each other, understanding what it was they had heard. Nodding to each other, they faced the men and approached them.
Duncan gestured to a table with four chairs off to the side of the room, situated between two lit torches. He'd figured it was a good place, with plenty of light.
"Why don't you ladies sit down? Methos and I will bring us ... you something to drink. Would you perhaps like a snack? I seem to recall that lahoffy had offered you a burrito earlier," he said to Sheeza.
Methos stood silent, his jaw visibly working as his fangs picked and shredded his lower lip. The taste of blood, even if it was his own, did little to quell his maddening hunger, but it was better than nothing.
The slap had brought him to his senses somewhat, and in a short time, he'd come to the conclusion that while the powers that came with being a vampire were great and had it's advantages, he could see that ultimately, the disadvantages were greater.
Eyeing Methos, lahoffy smirked and reigned in her sarcasm as much as she could. "Yeah, I'd like Pepsi, and Sheeza here likes Diet Coke. Maybe *this* time I'll actually get to drink some of it," she muttered under her breath.
With his acute hearing, Methos heard her and closed his eyes tight. He wanted so badly to toss out a comment, but decided that Duncan wouldn't be too happy with him if he did. So, he settled for poking a new hole in his lip instead.
Rubbing his hands together, partly to conceal the bloody crescents in his palms, Duncan smiled, careful still to keep his fangs out of sight. "It's my pleasure. And something to eat?"
Sheeza looked at lahoffy and then at each of the men. "Thank you, but maybe later. Right now," she said with a wince, "I think I'd like to just sit down. I think my knee is bleeding again."
Methos' head snapped towards the ladies and he lifted his head up, breathing in deeply, like an animal scenting the air. Lowering his head, he smiled thinly, a purr sounding deep in his throat.
Startled by the vibration in his chest, Methos shook his head vigorously to clear it, and bit down on his lip again.
lahoffy popped the top to her soda and downed half of it immediately. With a satisfied sigh, she set the can down and smiled contentedly before glaring at Methos sitting to her right.
He'd been staring. He couldn't help himself. Watching her raise the can to her lips, lips that had puckered up to hold the edge of the can, and then let her head fall back, exposing her throat as she downed the contents, was powerfully attractive to him. With each swallow he had felt the desire to sink his fangs into her neck growing ever stronger.
Sheeza drank heartily from her soda as well. Nerves always gave her dry mouth, and the soda was just what she needed to loosen the glue that had formed around her tongue.
Duncan watched Sheeza as closely as Methos had watched lahoffy. Breathing through his mouth, he avoided smelling her bloody knee as much as he could.
"So, Mr. MacLeod... ."
"Call me Duncan."
"Duncan, then. When you came in here, you said you needed my help." Sheeza smiled, guardedly, but a smile nevertheless. "What sort of help are you looking for? How can I help you?"
lahoffy snorted softly, her mind instantly picking out an idea of the kind of help these guys might be asking for.
Methos glared at lahoffy, quite aware of what she was thinking. He he had stumbled on yet another talent of vampires, the ability to tell the thoughts of others. He smirked at her, finding it amusing just how wrong she could be and still be cute.
Finding himself faced finally with the opportunity to at least tell them what he and Methos needed, Duncan was frustrated at deciding exactly how to begin. So far, each opening sentence sounded trite or fabricated. What had happened to them was unbelievable, too fantastical for words. Misery bloomed and settled over the Highlander. His shoulders slumped and his head sank between his shoulders.
"You wouldn't believe me," he groaned in a low anguished voice.
"Try me," Sheeza said, her voice trembling, but not just from fear. Sitting so close to Duncan, she found herself utterly fascinated by him and it was affecting her.
Duncan looked up at the people around him. Methos seemed in pain, but his eyes told him that he could speak for the both of them. Duncan could see and smell the blood on the old man's lips. lahoffy too was quiet, her hand resting protectively around her Pepsi. Her eyes kept darting over to inspect the man next to her. He could plainly see that for all her bluster, she was interested in Methos at least a little bit. Sheeza met his gaze. He could smell her fear, but her eyes showed her interest in himself and he was surprised to discover that it pleased him. He found he liked her, and he hoped that once this was all over with, he could still count her more as friend than as victim or enemy.
"I don't know how to begin," he said simply.
Sheeza watched him, searching for something, anything that told her she should be more afraid of him than she was. Aside from him being blindingly handsome in her estimation, she could find nothing that set off her internal alarms, but heard them ringing merrily away in spite of it. "Were you looking for me? For us? I mean, I know why she and I," Sheeza said, gesturing at lahoffy and herself, "are in the castle after hours, but why are you?"
In spite of herself, she chuckled. "I mean, you two *look* like you could belong here in the castle, and we are visitors, tourists. But you're not from around here either. Do you work here? Are you here because there was a report of two women in the castle illegally? I can assure you, we meant no harm. We just wanted to ... ."
"No, that's not it." Duncan looked down at himself, noting that somewhere he'd picked up a tiny smudge of soot on his crisp white shirt. "We don't work for the tour. We ... were left here by ... a friend."
Methos scooted around in his chair and snorted loudly, halfway between a chuckle and a cough. "Some friend," he grumbled.
Sheeza's eyes went from Methos back to Duncan. She felt lost in what was going on, and didn't like it one bit. "Why did you get left here? Did someone pull a prank on you?"
Duncan thought that over briefly, weighing his potential choices of responses. "Yes, and no," he replied weakly, shrugging his apologies.
lahoffy put her chin in her hand, her elbow resting on the table. "Well then, I don't get it. What's the deal?" She glanced between the two men, letting her question hang in the air.
Methos reached up onto the table with one hand and picked up some invisible bit of something with one incredibly long thin white finger. Rubbing it between his finger and thumb, he flicked it away, his eyes landing on Duncan's face.
"Tell'em about the curse MacLeod."
Duncan smiled gratefully at the old man, realizing that maybe Methos should have been the one to talk all along.
lahoffy and Sheeza's heads turned as one and two sets of eyes landed on him. As if one voice, they both spoke at the same time, and on cue. "What curse?"
The ladies sat quietly, listening to Duncan talk without interrupting him. He spoke in a calm voice, telling them everything about who he and Methos were, what had precipitated their current predicament, and what Lestat had told them about the curse. He explained too, about immortals and the 'Game'. He didn't have a choice; at least it seemed so to him. He didn't embellish anything, nor did he refrain from mentioning anything he thought might help them have a fighting chance in gaining the help he and Methos so badly needed from the women who sat with them.
He noticed that shortly after he began speaking, both women's hands crept out and found each other, each woman seeking comfort and support from the other. Neither set of eyes left his face the whole time he spoke. He could see he had their complete attention, and took solace in the hope that with their attention, came open minds.
Even Methos was entranced listening to Duncan spin their tale. He knew all these things to be true, but could see how mortals could and most definitely would find it all too fantastic, too ... unthinkable. He mused that if he were of a certain ilk, he might even consider putting pen to paper and weave this adventure into a tall tale for the small screen. A gentle smile curved his lips at the notion. Glancing at the ladies, he was hopeful when he saw they hadn't yet closed their minds to him.
lahoffy shook her head, unable to stop smiling. She honestly felt as though her leg was being pulled. She didn't like feeling like the butt of somebody's joke, or taken for a rube just because she lived in a small town.
She had to admit to herself, the story that she heard was indeed fantastical, and it definitely rivaled some of the best stories she'd read, but still ... there was something about it all that made her wonder.
Methos discreetly watched lahoffy during the spinning of Duncan's tale. He thought her to be most interesting. He couldn't help but compare her to her friend either. They were as alike as day and night, but seemed to be very close to each other. The other one he noticed, seemed to have taken a liking to Duncan, and that would be good. In his mind, if the each of them liked Duncan and himself, then maybe they had a chance.
When Duncan finished talking, he sat quietly, waiting for one of them to speak.
lahoffy looked around the table, then raised her soda to her lips and emptied it in one smooth draught. "Well, who's up for another soda," she asked quietly, licking the last of the sweetness from her lips. "I'm still thirsty."
Before she could even blink, Methos set another one down in front of her, opened.
"How did you do that? I didn't even see you move!" lahoffy was astonished. That soda appeared in front of her almost before she finished talking!
Methos smirked and arched his brow. "Vampire," he said, in his smoothest voice.
Sheeza looked over to the man who had earlier, made off with her friend. Leaning a little closer to Duncan, she whispered to him. "What's his name? I can't remember."
lahoffy giggled and patted Sheeza's arm. "It's Mentos, or something to that effect."
Duncan laughed, but the smile slid off Methos' face. "I'm not candy, young lady. It's Methos, and I'll thank you to remember it. You should count yourself fortunate you know."
lahoffy straightened up in her chair, feeling a bit put off by what she heard and how she interpreted it. "Oh? And that would be ... WHY?"
"If it weren't for MacLeod and his Boy Scout ways, you would have heard a different name entirely. I don't flaunt my true name like he does." Methos glared at MacLeod, sending him a silent reprimand for forgetting to use his Pierson persona when he ran to lahoffy's rescue.
lahoffy's brows furrowed together as her temper flashed and sparked to life. "Oh, so you were *going* to lie to us, but your friend here messed it up? Wow, I feel so trusting now," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Sheeza turned to Duncan. "Duncan MacLeod is your true name? You don't use aliases?"
Duncan's lips twisted into a sad smile, his eyes seemingly looking off into the distance. "It's a long story."
Sheeza ducked her head, her eyes capturing his. "I'd like to hear it sometime. That is, if you would be willing to share it."
His face pinked and he looked down at his hands resting on the tabletop. "I may do that Sheeza, I just may."
An exasperated sigh escaped Methos before he thought about it. "Enough, MacLeod, let's get on with it, shall we?" The old man was tired of the banter and annoyed with the woman next to him, even though he'd decided he liked her for more than just for her blood. "Time is short and so is my patience. If you don't do something, I will," he warned. Methos sat forward and looked pointedly at lahoffy before leveling his gaze back on the Scot.
"Oh, now *that* sounded like a threat you ... you ... swine!" lahoffy curled her lip in disgust, her mind instantly taking his words in a direction of her own.
Methos smirked and rolled his eyes, sighing deeply. "Yeah, right ... you wish!"
lahoffy stood up so quickly, her chair scooted a few feet back and thunked against the wall. "Oh, BITE ME NUMBSKULL!" She was livid, her fists were clenched into fists and she wanted nothing more than to punch that smirk off his face.
Duncan cleared his throat, trying to gain the attention of everyone. "Methos, I'm sorry I let out your real name. It wasn't intentional. But all things considered, I think it only fair since we are about to ask a great deal of these two women."
"A great deal?" Sheeza felt a lump grow in her chest, the first time she'd felt any real anxiety since she and lahoffy had sat down at the table. "What do you want of us? I already told you we have nothing. We spent all our money coming on this trip."
"Aha! So I was right! You guys just want ... well I'm not ... ."
"Oh please do be quiet! You couldn't be more wrong if you ... ."
"Methos!"
"Duncan?"
"MacLeod, if you think I'm gonna bite ... ."
"Methos," Duncan growled, "not yet."
"Sheeza, we'd better ... ."
"lahoffy, just wait a minute. I want ... ."
"Oh, you aren't going anywhere. Let Sheeza go, or I *will* bi ... ."
"Methos!"
"Enough!" Sheeza stood up angrily, her chair scooting back to bang against the wall only to rebound hard enough to hit her legs, forcing her to sit down rather abruptly. She blushed and shook her head, thinking she must have looked as foolish as she felt. "Couldn't do that again in a million years if I tried," she mumbled to herself.
"lahoffy, sit down please. I want to hear what it is they want. Then, if you want to go, we'll go. Duncan has been polite, so I'll listen to what he has to say first, OK?" Sheeza looked up at her friend, hoping that she would be cooperative.
Reluctantly, lahoffy pulled her chair back to the table and sat down. She glared at Methos, her lips pooched out in her unhappiness over the situation. "Fine, I'll listen. But this Methos guy is asking for it."
Methos laughed, hearty and full. His fangs glistened in the light and looked sharp. "Damned right I'm asking for it! I'll just bet it tastes as good as it smells too!" This threw him in a giggle fit, tickling himself in his clever wording.
"Methos, I'm warning you!" Duncan's eyes flashed and his nostrils flared as he ground his jaws. His fangs came into view briefly.
Sheeza gasped, glimpsing those pointed teeth for the first time. It was soon followed by a tingling that went from her neck and down her spine, making her suddenly think of vampires and what they do best.
Trying to compose herself, Sheeza closed her eyes. "Please, no more arguing. I can't stand it." She opened her eyes and locked them on the dark haired Scot. "Just tell us what you want. No more talk. Lay it out. Please?"
Duncan glanced at Methos, waiting for his word. When the old man nodded his head, he looked back and forth between lahoffy and Sheeza.
"The curse can be broken only if we can find someone who offers their blood to us of their own free will. We haven't much time. The hunger is building and we soon won't be able to control it. Please, we beg you. Give yourselves to us freely so that we might break this curse and go on with our lives. It's the only way. If we take it by force, we'll remain vampires for the rest of our existence."
The two women sat silently for a few seconds. The men sat there, each looking directly at the woman next to him.
lahoffy eyeballed Methos up and down, appraising him like a side of butcher shop beef.
Sheeza looked into Duncan's eyes and saw them troubled and anguished. Her heart went out to him. "I'll do it... for you. On one condition."
lahoffy's head whipped around and she looked at Sheeza, bewildered. "You'll WHAT?!"
Duncan grinned and took Sheeza's hands into his own. His smile increased when he felt her grip tighten on his.
"So? What about you?" Methos spoke up, hoping he would have the same good fortune with lahoffy.
"What?" lahoffy's head whirled back the other way. She shrank away from Methos, leaning against Sheeza. "What about me?!"
Methos stood up and started pacing. He snarled, his fangs coming into view again. "Always MacLeod. He asks, and she agrees right off the bat. I ask, I get a Hell-Cat. Not fair! Only 5000 years and ... ."
"What's your condition?" Ignoring Methos' ranting for a moment, Duncan looked at Sheeza expectantly.
lahoffy stood up again. "Excuse me? What about 5000 years? I didn't quite catch that."
Methos turned to Duncan. Using all of his vampiric talents, he spoke silently with the hazel-eyed Scot. He nodded his head when Duncan reluctantly nodded his.
"lahoffy? Methos will tell you, but he wants to have a little privacy. Do you mind if we split up, you and he going into the other room? I'd offer, but Sheeza's knee is bleeding and shouldn't be walking around. I think it's best for her that she stay here."
Sheeza looked at Duncan, concerned for lahoffy's safety. Startled, she pushed back from the table and looked at her knee. Sure enough, it was still bleeding. Confused, she glanced quickly at everyone.
"I'm not going anywhere with him! Not until he tells me what ... ."
"Oh just come on!" Methos grabbed lahoffy by the arm and headed for the corridor.
At the last second, lahoffy snatched her Pepsi from the table before it was out of reach. "Jeez, what's your hurry?"
Methos was angry, his head was filled with what sounded and felt like a swarm of bees. His hunger for blood blurred the edges of his vision, his senses were so sharp, it was almost painful. He could smell the blood pumping through lahoffy's veins and he was edging closer and closer to that line between sanity and madness.
"Hey! Slow down, will ya?!" lahoffy was puffing with the effort of keeping up with the man dragging her down the corridor. "Just - slow - DOWN!" Planting her feet, she threw herself backward and pulled against Methos as hard as she could.
If he had been paying attention to her, Methos wouldn't have been caught off guard. Unfortunately, he hadn't been, and he found himself unbalanced and falling.
lahoffy was surprised to find herself falling as well. Her pulling against him made her fall backward onto the floor with a 'whoomp'. She narrowly missed cracking her head against the wall.
Methos had a strong grip on her forearm, and when she yanked away, she took him with her. He turned at the last moment, and as fate would have it, he landed right on top of lahoffy, his body covering hers from the chest all the way down. Letting go of her, he caught himself with his arms, so when he came to rest, he was looking straight into her eyes.
"Well now," he said, his voice silky and full of mischief. "If I had known this was what you wanted all along, I would have been more than willing to accommodate you. But seriously, couldn't you wait till we got to the bed chamber?" Smiling down at her, Methos couldn't help himself. He had to push it just one step further. He winked at her and made kissing noises; topping it off with lascivious brow wagging and a throaty growl.
lahoffy was thrown into a situation she wasn't thrilled with. Yes, she admitted to herself that she was beginning to like him, fangs and all. Yes, she admitted that being that close to him really *did* have a certain YAY!!!! quality. And no, she couldn't let him get away with being a pig.
Drawing her arms up, she pushed against his chest. "Get offa me you cretin!"
"Oh, so I'm a cretin, am I?" In response, Methos drew closer, his lips puckering to kiss her.
The more she pushed on him, the more Methos pushed back. His eyes danced with the fun he was having, but his hunger was working against him. His mind started whispering to him to bite, not to kiss.
Watching their friends exit the kitchen, Sheeza and Duncan found themselves alone. They faced each other and quickly glanced away, suddenly uncomfortable and nervous.
"Sheeza," Duncan began slowly, "please, I ... can't hold out much longer. I wish I could, but I can't. I'm trying." He sighed when she said nothing. "You said you had a condition. What is it? If it's within my power, it's yours."
Sheeza blushed, realizing that though she had said she had a condition, she really didn't want to give voice to it. It was too embarrassing and it presumed too much.
"It's nothing. Never mind. I'm sorry, and it doesn't matter anyway." Her eyes dropped to the table top in shame.
Duncan reached out with his hand and raised her chin so that their eyes met again. "That's where you're wrong my dear. It does matter. I want something from you, and you want something from me. Now what is it? If it's mine to give, it's but for you to name."
"It's stupid. Nevermind. Please." Shaking her head and grinning, Sheeza decided the best plan of action was to change the subject.
"I know you are hungry. I can see it in your eyes. I've read many vampire stories, watched documentaries, and seen probably close to all the movies. So let's do this, ok? I like you, and I want to know you without this hanging over your head, all right?"
Clenching his jaws, Duncan closed his eyes and tossed his head, as though working to control himself. Slowly opening his eyes, he gazed at Sheeza.
"No, I won't. It's just as important to me. I want your willingness, all the way. Sheeza," he whispered, reaching out to caress her cheek, "what would you have of me?"
Sighing and blushing anew, she dropped her eyes to the table once again. "Remove your hair tie. I'd like to see your hair full and natural around your face." Sighing again, she finished quickly. "I told you it was silly."
Methos grimaced, fighting off his thoughts of taking lahoffy there on the floor. Growling ominously, he leaped to his feet and pulled her up so quickly, he actually lifted her off the floor and set her down on her feet.
lahoffy glanced down at her hand and noticed it was empty. With a groan, she looked around and spotted her now-empty soda can lying on the floor against the wall. A dark puddle of Pepsi lay under the can, and in the torchlight, she could see the bubbles pop on the surface.
Angry, she looked up at Methos, her mouth twisted and mean. "ANIMAL! You did it again! Why, I oughta ... ." Her fist began its windup, and she started to turn to add more weight to her throw. Everything happened so fast; lahoffy didn't know what hit her.
Methos pulled the little spitfire into his embrace and brought his lips down over hers, effectively quieting her down. Scooping her up into his arms, the old man turned and continued down the hall toward the bedroom and a certain four-poster canopied bed. The entire journey, he kept his lips pressed against hers, keeping her thoroughly occupied.
Methos stopped when he reached the bed. Bending down, he gently placed lahoffy upon it, following her to end up lying by her side. When he had them both situated, he broke the spell he'd cast, and turned away.
lahoffy laid there, her eyes closed and her mouth still pursed.
"Breathe," Methos said quietly, with a twitch of his fingers.
With a little jerk, she opened her eyes and gasped for breath. In a rush, lahoffy felt like she was falling, falling down into darkness. She found she wanted nothing more than to jump right back in where she had been left off. Such is the magic of vampires.
Hardly in control of her actions, she reached for Methos.
"No," he whispered. "I'll not allow it. Not this way."
lahoffy shut her eyes tight. Breathing in deeply through her nose, her head cleared a bit. "You'll not allow it? But I thought this was what you wanted," she replied, again reaching for him.
Faster than the human eye could track him, Methos was off the bed and pacing back and forth at the foot of it. He placed his hands behind his back and started muttering under his breath. Every few steps or so, he shook his head wildly and blinked his eyes rapidly. He snarled under his breath each time he turned to head back the other way.
lahoffy watched him for a while as she gradually regained her full senses.
"Well, what this you were saying about 5000 years?"
He stopped, dead in his tracks. "You really want to know?"
"Yeah, I really do. I can't explain it so don't ask me why, but I think you are probably the biggest jerk on the face of this planet. But there is something else, and I'll be damned if I can deny it, or what I feel."
His eyes widened and Methos looked at her, his eyes narrowed. "Tell me, what *do* you feel?"
"I said I can't explain it you idiot! What did I just say?"
"No, you said not to ask why about wanting to know, not ... ."
"Oh for Pete's sake!"
"You like me don't you?!"
Silence. "The 5000 years. What did you mean?"
Sighing. "That's how old I am."
A gasp. "You're what?!"
"Yeah. Now how do you feel?"
Sighing. "Suddenly very young, and I think I'm falling for *the* most annoying man on the face of the planet."
His face brightened. "Does this mean ... .?"
Silence. A slow nod came from lahoffy, her eyes on his as her head bobbed up and down. Turning to face the wall, she pulled down the collar of her shirt and bared her neck.
A warm delighted laugh erupted from the Highlander. "Is *that* all?"
One large, furry-knuckled hand came up and deftly removed the hair tie, his locks immediately bouncing freely, framing his handsome face. Using both hands, he ran his fingers through his hair to separate the locks and bring them to their fullest.
Sheeza gasped softly. Those waves and dark curls brought her attention to the fact that he was somewhat unshaven. She wasn't sure why she hadn't noticed that before, but she sure did now! His jaw was covered with stubble and she wished she had the courage to reach out and test how soft it was.
"How's that? Is this better?" Duncan smiled warmly, taking care to keep his fangs out of sight. His dark eyes twinkled, the skin around them crinkling. It had amused him to observe her tracking his every movement, scrutinizing what seemed every inch of him.
***Of all the things in all the world, why would she pick something like letting my hair down as her condition to all but bleed her to death? Why not money? I just don't get it. I wonder if there will be a condition to this condition? There has to be! This is too easy!*** Duncan had no choice but to wait and see.
Sheeza couldn't help but gape at the difference in Duncan's appearance. Realizing he had asked her a question, her mouth snapped closed abruptly and she silently nodded her head. A slow grin transformed her lips as her eyes traveled from his hair to his face and back again.
"I um, think we should do this while I've got the courage Duncan. I'm afraid, but I won't back out. Not now."
***Not now?***
The Highlander looked around and saw only snack racks, tables and chairs and reach-in
coolers banking a microwave/service counter. A look of dismay came over him.
"But Sheeza, not here. There isn't any ... ."
"I know!" Sheeza brightened as an idea came to her. "I'll bet you haven't been to the ladies room, but there is a really nice sofa in there. I saw it earlier when I ... we could go there. What do you say?"
Duncan's eyes looked left, then right. "There is a couch in the ladies room? What for?"
Sheeza laughed. "Impromptu conversation? You know, I've wondered that myself. Haven't you ever been in a ladies room?"
This time, it was his turn to laugh. "No, can't say that I have. I've done a great many things in my life, and gone a great many places. But I don't think that is one place I've visited yet."
Sheeza stood up and grinned down at him. "Well, there's a first time for everything, isn't there? Shall we?"
Duncan stood up and offered his arm to Sheeza. She took his hand instead, thrilled when she felt him thread his fingers through hers. Together, they walked down another hallway and entered the bathroom. There, to the left of the doorway, sat a large, smoky gray overstuffed sofa with pillows propped up against the arms.
"Will this do Duncan?"
"Aye, I think it will. Would you like to sit down?"
When both of them were seated, Sheeza turned and faced Duncan.
"Will it hurt?" Sheeza's face clearly showed her concern.
"I suppose it will, but not for long I hope."
"You'll be careful, won't you?"
Duncan nodded his head, his eyes boring into hers. He reached up and caressed her cheek, his fingers tracing her lips. Slowly, he came closer and closer. Dropping his gaze to her lips, he moved in.
His lips touched hers in a kiss so soft and delicate, Sheeza wondered if that was what it was like to be kissed by an angel, for that was surely what he looked like in her eyes. Feeling her arms come up on their own to encircle his shoulders, he pulled her toward him, turning her head to the side.
Sheeza stiffened, fear flashing in her like a child flinching when it's mother is about to put alcohol on a boo-boo.
Methos looked down at lahoffy, lying there willingly offering herself to him. In the blink of an eye, he was once again beside her.
Pulling her into his arms, one supporting her head and shoulders and one around her waist, he looked into her eyes.
"Are you sure? No, are you *really* sure?"
An exasperated sigh escaped from her lips. "First you snatch me. Then you scare me. You ruin not one, but two perfectly good Pepsis. You pick fights with me. You tell me you're older than Methusalah. Methusalah? Any relation?" lahoffy smirked when she saw Methos frown. "You kiss me. I've agrred to help you, and *now* you ask me if I'm ready? Just shut up and bi... ."
Methos ended her tirade by kissing her again, this time without magic. Moving past her lips, his tongue met hers and invited it to dance.
Pulling lahoffy close to him in a tight embrace, he turned her head a bit so that he wasn't craning his neck so far. All too quickly, his passion for her grew as his mind reached out to hers in a psychic connection.
lahoffy threw her arms around Methos, pulling him impossibly closer to her. Her mind was dizzy and filled with pictures, pictures of places and people she had never seen. She was unaware that her neck had been pierced by his sharp fangs and at that very moment, she was giving him what he most needed, her willing blood.
(flash)
Horses, tents, sand and leafless, withered bushes. Three men, laughing heartily around a roaring campfire. Their faces, blackened with ash in abtract designs ... creepy, yet there is something about them. The large one, jovial in countenance, offers up a haunch of meat. Trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, a thin man with a bundle of sticks tied to his back.
(flash)
A comely mulatto woman in a hand-made dress, her beauty shining like a beacon in the darkness. Her eyes filled with love and longing, her hand stretched out, beckoning someone to come to her. Someone for whom she held a great deal of love and respect. An image of Methos, tousled hair and muttonchops reflecting in the mirror standing behind her.
(flash)
A woman with straight, long, dark hair; round, dark eyes, angular features and long dirty fingernails holding out a bowl of water. She smiles, her arm outstretched, beckoning. In her eyes, the tiny reflection of a man ... hair unkempt ... his face ... half blue.
(flash)
lahoffy, long, light-brown hair flowing past her shoulders in a darkened room. Angry, she searches the dark for someone or something on which she can vent. Behind her is the very bed she is now lying on.
(flash)
Inside, lahoffy can feel something building, yet not building. Pulsing might be a better word, she thinks. She can hear the pounding of two sets of drums, each one in a different rhythm. But as she listens, she hears the two slowly and inexorably begin pounding as one. Slowly she discovers it is the beating of his and her hearts.
Never before in her life had she ever felt such fulfillment, such wonder. She hoped it would never end.
Duncan pulled away and whispered into her ear. "Are you really all right with this?"
Sheeza hesitated before slowly nodding her head. She was afraid to speak. She was certain that if she did, she would tell him that she had changed her mind.
Instead, she silently spoke to him. ***I'm all right Duncan, just afraid. Please, just bite me and get it over with. Don't prolong it, OK? I just want this over quickly.***
He moved to look her in the eye. Nodding his assent upon hearing her unspoken words, he leaned in and kissed her again. Gazing upon Sheeza, he solemnly nodded his head, telling her he was ready to begin. Closing his eyes a moment, he re-opened them and they were ice-blue ringed with white. He opened his mouth and bared his fangs at her. With a great hiss, he fell upon her.
Duncan's fangs plunged through her skin with the ease of a hot knife through soft butter. The first freshet of blood flooded his mouth. Alternately excited and repulsed, Duncan suckled Sheeza's neck, allowing her blood to flow naturally. He desperately wanted to take it from her, but was afraid to harm the woman in his arms in any way. Settling down, he lapped up her blood as it dribbled through the holes he had made. He was disgusted to find he actually liked the taste of it. Silently, he prayed that this was only temporary.
Sheeza hardly felt his fangs slicing into her flesh. In her mind, she still saw his eyes. Those wild eyes against his olive skin was captivating to say the least. Unaware, a tiny smile floated on her lips as she felt the thrill of his lips against her neck.
Methos sensed a change in Lahoffy and in himself. She was growing weaker in his arms. Using his tongue, he probed his fang teeth. Sure enough, they were gone! It had worked!
Releasing his hold on her neck, albeit reluctantly, Methos grinned sat up.
lahoffy gazed up at him with glazed eyes. "Is it over?"
Elated and beyond happy, Methos smiled, his eyes twinkling in the gloom. He shook his head and kissed the tip of her nose. "Nope. I think this just might be the beginning of a wonderful friendship, don't you?"
lahoffy looked down and considered it a moment before she grabbed his wrist and whispered just one word. "Yep!~"
When the blood coming from Sheeza's neck slowed, Duncan used the tip of his fangs to freshen the wound. He was cautious and paid close attention to her, making sure she was all right in his arms. The last thing he wanted to do was to put this woman in mortal peril.
In her head, she could hear her heart beating as well as his, which had speeded up to match hers. Together, they marched, the two pounding as one. Her mind was dark, but it was filled with a well of emotions and feelings with thoughts springing up in her head.
Sheeza gasped, confused by things she saw and felt that didn't make sense. Even so, she wanted it to go on forever!
(flash)
***Debra, I cannae marry ye, not with Robert's ghost haunting me.***
Her red hair hung down around her shoulders in a cascade of curls. Her blue eyes were filled with such unbearable sadness. Her heart, broken forever.
(flash)
***WHERE DO I COME FROM?!?!?!***
Long hair, unkempt and framing his face, a younger Duncan MacLeod running uphill, screaming after two figures galloping away on horseback. His pain, white-hot and heavy in his heart, spilled out in anguish.
***I AM DUNCAN MACLEOD ... OF THE CLAN MACLEOD!***
Tears stream down his face as he gives up in defeat.
(flash)
***Are ye a witch?***
A young boy, full of innocence and wonder, looking into the eyes of a woman he was destined to meet again in another life. One he would know as a man.
(flash)
***I've killed so many... young, old... with their mothers watching... ***
Angst filled heart, defeated look upon his face, another Duncan bears the brunt of what he'd done when he was someone else ... not the man he was when feeling the burden of his past.
(flash)
"Wow," Sheeza whispered, unaware she had spoken at all. Those things she had been feeling, she knew must have come from Duncan, and though they answered some questions, many more sprang up in their place. One thing for certain, she knew this Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod to be a good man, solid and courageous.
"Sheeza?"
Sheeza didn't move, her head lolled back against the sofa. Aghostly smile was all that showed she was still awake.
"Sheeza?"
"MMMM?"
"What did you say?"
As if in a fog, Sheeza spoke, the smile not fading for a second. "I said 'Wow,' Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. Mmmmm... ," she moaned softly, stirring a bit and opening her eyes. "Is it over?"
Duncan wiped at his mouth, noticing a bit of blood came off on his fingers. His tongue felt along his teeth and he made a second pass before he noticed that the fang teeth were gone!
"Sheeza! It worked!"
"It did? Really? I'm so glad for you Duncan." She smiled, happy she was able to help him.
It had been a very long time since he had felt this much joy. Duncan just wanted to jump up and shout it out to the world! Instead, he grabbed Sheeza, pulling her off the sofa and danced her around the room, sharing with her his happiness at being free of the curse that had brought them together.
When they broke apart, he saw a dribble of blood running down her neck. Quickly, he crossed the room and snatched tissues from a box on the counter. He pressed them to the wound and held them there as he put his arm around her.
"I don't know how I can ever thank you for this Sheeza. I couldn't even begin to try. I owe you."
Looking deep into his eyes, Sheeza lost herself for a moment, before she smiled and averted hers. She blushed a beautiful rose pink.
Duncan grinned. He knew she had something on her mind. "What? What is it?"
Her blushed deepened to crimson. Swallowing hard, Sheeza shook her head. "I can't."
"You will."
Chuckling while she spoke, Sheeza shook her head. "Oh ho ho, n,o I can't!"
Pulling the tissue away, he saw the bleeding had stopped. Dropping it behind the sofa, Duncan used his free hand to turn her back to face him. He wasn't smiling anymore.
"I mean it. Whatever it is, name it."
Sheeza looked at him and smiled tentatively. She licked her lower lip and reached up with one hand. She stopped in mid-air and looked at him. Gaining some confidence, she reached up and pulled on his tie. "Dance with me some more."
Duncan grinned happily, for this was something he could do.
Hours later, or so it seemed, the two couples reunited back in the kitchen. The ladies ran over to the coolers to grab some sodas while the men sat back down at the table. Each group was whispering animatedly and gesturing toward the other group. Everyone was smiling and happy.
Returning to the table, lahoffy handed Methos a beer while Sheeza handed Duncan a bottle of fresh-squeezed orange juice.
Both men looked up surprised and said simultaneously, "How did you know?" Together, they looked at each other, then back at the women and laughed heartily.
They all laughed when the women replied simultaneously, "We just knew."
Morning dawned and the four were still talking around that little table down in the kitchen. lahoffy and Methos still bickered, albeit good naturedly. Sheeza and Duncan had quiet smiles for each other, and he told her stories of his many travels though the centuries.
They all turned as one when a fat, balding security guard came huffing and puffing into view. He held a pistol on them in one fat, trembling hand. When he had concluded that he wasn't in danger, he gruffly told the foursome they had to get out immediately, or buy another ticket for the day.
Methos was rude, Duncan apologetic, even offering to buy tickets even though they were leaving.
As they neared the doors to the grand entrance, the four walked out into the sun arm in arm. All four faces turned up into the golden morning rays and each was thankful in their own way.
The two immortals had found allies, and the two women found they never had to go home to their nobody-nothing lives again for in their selfless offering of themselves, they had gained the respect and friendship of these men who wanted to whisk them away and give them the love and the lives they felt they deserved ... at a place they called, the CDC Compound?
The End.
Sheeza
March 2, 2002
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St. Patrick's Day Madness
An outraged howl echoed across the compound, followed by a colorful string of various languages. Some dead, some not quite so dead.
MacNair tore her gaze from the two immortals she was "supervising" as they planted the first flowers of spring and glanced towards the house. "What was that?"
Duncan chuckled. "Don't you know what day it is?"
"Sunday."
"The date?"
"Um . . . March 17th."
"And?" Connor prompted.
MacNair puzzled for a second. "OH! St. Patrick's Day!"
"And what's one tradition that usually occurs on this day?"
She grinned wikkedly. "You get to pinch someone if they're not wearing green." Her face fell. "No fair. You've both got green on."
Duncan sighed patiently. "The other tradition, guaranteed to irritate a certain ancient immortal."
Light dawned in her eyes. "Ah, the tinting of the beer green."
"Bingo," replied Connor.
Sharz chimed in from her seat next to MacNair's: "I thought we agreed after last year's hysterics not to do that to poor Methos again?"
Lynnann spoke up."WE did, but there's several newcomers here that don't know that. I tried to warn them."
Sharz looked around, counting heads. "Where's lahoffy? I'm surprised she's not here watching the boys work."
Connor laughed merrily. "Who do you think is behind that howling? Ever since the Valentine's Day incident, she's been looking for a chance at revenge on Methos."
A chorus of feminine squeals sounded just then, followed by pounding footsteps, an outraged male voice, and slamming doors.
"Run!" shouted lahoffy as she came barreling out the door, closely followed by Sheeza, hayden, and pacem.
The girls scampered across the courtyard, seeking shelter behind the comparative safety of the two Highlanders.
"Hide us! He's going to kill us!" pleaded hayden as she ducked behind Duncan's broad back.
Sheeza squeezed in beside her. "I didn't think he'd get so mad!"
Pacem scurried behind Connor. "We were just holding up tradition!" She paused, blinking. "Ooo . . . nice jeans."
"Lahoffy, if you want to get even with Methos--that's one thing. Involving innocents in your schemes--" Connor began lecturing.
"Innocents? HA! You should have seen how eager they all were! Besides, I only suggested the idea!"
Sheeza poked her head around Duncan's shoulder. "Suggested? You handed us the bottle of food coloring!"
Lahoffy sighed, crossing her arms and bracing herself as Methos came stomping out of the house.
Sheeza, hayden and pacem squeaked in alarm and tried making themselves even smaller behind the two immortals.
Methos reached the group, his expression morose as he collapsed into a vacant lawn chair and stared forlornly at the mug of green beer he held. "I hate this holiday," he groused. "Green beer? It's a sacrilege."
Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.
"People running around pretending to be Irish, wearing those bloody "Kiss me, I'm Irish" buttons, pinching you black and blue if you're not wearing green--all bloody annoying if you ask me. But the worst thing? GREEN beer!" He fell silent, still staring at his beer. Finally he sighed and muttered under his breath. "All because of a stupid, bloody accident."
"I'm sorry. What was that?" Duncan asked.
Methos sighed heavily again, closing his eyes. "An accident. Happened back during Prohibition. While I was brewing beer for Capone."
Everyone perked up. A story about the old guy's past? This would be worth any amount of punishment he might inflict later.
"Brewing beer for Capone? Al Capone?" asked Connor.
"Yes, that Al Capone. I was making my own beer when he found out about my talents and recruited me. It seemed like a great way to make money at the time. Anyway, one Saint Patrick's Day, I had just finished making up a batch and was waiting on him to show up to collect it when a certain . . . uh. . . female acquaintance of mine got . . . um . . . frisky with food stuffs. Next thing I know, she spilled an entire bottle of green food coloring into it." Again he sighed heavily. "Capone showed up at that moment, saw the beer and loved the idea of celebrating St. Patrick's Day with green beer. The rest is history."
Duncan looked at him disbelievingly. "You mean, just because you got randy with someone, that's why we have green beer?"
Methos shrugged. "What can I say? She was rather talented, even if she was a klutz." He took a long pull off his beer. "Do you think I like knowing I'm responsible for the mistreatment of beer every year?"
The entire group dissolved into merry whoops of laughter, collapsing onto each other, as they struggled to breathe.
"Sure, laugh it up now. Easter's coming, and I know where you keep the chocolate bunnies," he muttered.
~Finis~
lahoffyCDC
March 17, 2002
Note: This is wildly historically inaccurate, I'm sure. I have no idea when the first incident of tinting beer green actually happened. Nor do I know how it happened, and I'm not one to go do research for a fluffy little piece like this. *g* And who's to say that in the HL universe, this isn't exactly how it happened? *bg* Hope you enjoy it anyway.
Happy Saint Patrick's Day everyone.
Top
Prelude to The Threesome
Archivist note: Some wild hen posted a list of the pros and cons of having a threesome on the CDC board. (lahoffy looks like she could be blamed.) There were some giggles about it and then silence. But only for a short time before hayden, The Mayhem Maker started this:
If there are 10 CDCers and 4 immortals, you have 14 people. So that makes 196 combinations of 3?
Hayden *scratching her head*--No, you have to do something else here???
14 x 14 -13 is that right?
OK, 183 combinations of three.
Now, if you add in CDC friends (and you better!)
5 friends is what you guys usually say...
19 x 19 -18 = 343 combinations and 4 tired but happy immortals.
5 friends ??? is that right now???
hayden, (yes, I'm putting myself first--I'm doing the math *WWG*), xxxxx, xxxxxx, xxxx, and xxxxxxxxxx????
Archivist note: Names blocked to protect the guilt--er, the innocent...
Is that right?? (My apologies if I left someone out --I'm a bit flustered for some reason--Lahoffy, stop laughing! You started this)
Wait a minute now... we have pacem and xxxxx stopping by these days?
OK
17 x 17 - 16 = 272 and very, very tired immortals?
Should I include xxxxxxxxx in this?
Oh, now do you think the ROG and RYG are going to be happy with just threesomes???
Hush, Methos, you do your own math. Lahoffy only said three!
Hayden, who now has sank to the very depths of the gutter thanks to lahoffy
The Threesomes
The Threesomes
hayden
Just something to get the party started. Blame MacNair and lahoffy. This started haunting me after Thursday's conversation down below.
lynnann shouted, "Richie, you're up for the next threesome."
"Al-right!" the young immortal jumped to attention obviously enjoying this new game of the girl's.
lynnann escorted him into the master suite followed closely behind by MacNair and lahoffy; where he found the half nekkid MacLeods reclining in the king size bed.
"Ohh noo! NO WAY !!!"
"You agreed to play, Rich." MacNair beamed.
"But I never thought... ."
"Thought what, Rich???" a grinning lahoffy with a slightly tarnished halo replied innocently.
Rich started for the door only to be intercepted by the threesome of chuckling CDCers blocking the door. "Un-uh, you're staying," they exclaimed as they retreated to the hallway blocking his only means of escape.
CAH-LUNK the lock sounded as the girls locked him in with the leering Highlanders.
The temperature in the room suddenly started to rapidly climb and Richie's face became as red as the shirt he wore. "Ahh, you guys aren't seriously thinking about... are you?"
Devilment filled Connor's eyes as he patted the bed between the Highlanders. "Come here, pup," he commanded.
Richie rapidly lost all sign of composure as he checked the room for an escape route.
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"Relax, Rich, and have a seat. The game is coming on." Duncan, grinning, replied as he turned on the set to the Jazz game.
"Boy, you guys had me going there for a while." Richie relaxed and joined the men on the bed.
"Who was kidding?" Connor leaned closer to the young man.
"MAC!!! Help !!!!"
"Connor, stop picking on him! Relax, Rich, and grab the munchies will you."
"Relax, Pup!" Connor exclaimed, "It could be worse."
"What do you mean, worse?"
"Methos could be here."
"I don't get it. What does the old guy have to do with this being worse?"
"What? Did you sleep during Greek and Roman history?"
The full implications of that remark suddenly hit the young man as he bit down on his chip. Eyes popped and his face drained of color.
"That's combination 1517 isn't it, Connor?" Duncan smirked
"I do believe it is, Duncan"
lynnannCDC
Not much of a party if the guys are gonna watch a game...
hayden
Ahh but what are the girls doing? ~~~~~~~
hayden, Sharz, and Sheeza came around the corner to find MacNair, lynnann, and lahoffy with their ears glued to the door.
"What are they doing in there?" inquired lahoffy
"A better question yet is what are all of you doing listening at the bedroom door?" replied Sheeza. "Who's in there anyway?"
"Duncan, Connor, and Richie," chorused MacNair and lahoffy.
"What are they doing?" asked Sharz.
"It was their turn for a threesome," replied lynnann.
"Huh, really????"
The girls looked at each other and suddenly there were 6 pairs of ears glued to the door.
MacNairCDC
:: miscellany heard through the door ::
"Oh! OH! OH, come ON!"
"Score! Score!"
"Up! UP! Get it up!"
"NOW! Go! Go-go-go-go!"
(Very loud cheering and yelling.)
"YES! O my God, YES!"
"Watch it with the hands, there!"
"Why is it wet on my side of the bed?"
"Don't look at me, I didn't do anything!"
"Will you watch where you're putting things?"
"Well, quit wiggling around so much and this wouldn't happen!"
"I can't help it. It's exciting!"
hayden
Six sets of eyes all turned to stare at each other. "Did you hear that!!!" Mouths dropped open.
"LADDER!!!!!" yelled hayden, as she turned and ran through the halls.
"Follow her!!!!" exclaimed MacNair
Hayden flew past Janne and Methos as they walked across the yard, grabbed her ladder, and turned the corner of the house.
Janne grabbed lynnann as hayden's posse turned the corner.
"What's going on? Is there a fire? Is k'lynn hanging from the chandelier? What?" Janne demanded.
"MacLeods ... Rich ... bedroom ... threesome ... oh my... ." lynnann gasped before she took off to follow the troops.
"WHAT! Really?" inquired Methos. A smirk and devilish gleam formed in his eyes. "This I've got to see!"
lahoffyCDC
The ladder was in place, but a new problem arose. Who was going up the ladder to check the situation out?
"We could toss a coin," said MacNair.
"MY ladder!" said hayden vehemently, "I should go up."
"Too many here to toss a coin, we could draw straws," said Sharz.
"MY ladder!" hayden repeated.
"We don't have any straws," lahoffy pointed out.
"MY ladder!" hayden repeated once again, wondering why no one seemed to be listening to her.
Methos decided it was time to put an end to the discussion. "I'll go up. Wouldn't want any of you ladies to hurt yourself, now would we?" He began climbing the ladder.
"But... but... it's MY ladder," hayden whimpered.
MacNairCDC
Methos had spent some times on ladders before. In the war, painting a house or two, storming a castle ... he knew how to get up one quickly and without a sound. He just ... chose not to hurry this time. He crept up at an alarmingly slow pace and smirked at the frantically waving shadows on the ground below him, urging him to hurry! It was a silent pantomime of "We're going to murder you if you don't get the lead out!" that he could easily read in the wild gestures of their arms!
Slowly creeping ... carefully sneaking ... Methos arrived at the window ledge and what to his wondering eyes should appear?
Three boisterous immortals beginning to cheer!
The game was tied up and so were the Scots,
reaching for popcorn and two soda pops!
Richie was sprawled at the foot of the bed,
yelling at the screen with his face full of dread!
The floor was littered with wrappers and trappings;
Methos knew in a heartbeat that there'd been no napping!
The popcorn went flying when John Stockton swept down the floor,
for both Highlanders sat forward and gave a great roar!
They yelled at the screen as the Jazz went to score --
completely unaware that they'd bounced Rich onto the floor!
He shoots! He scores! The MacLeods were high-fiving!
Methos wondered, perhaps, if Rich wasn't crying?
Then he froze on his perch and he felt his heart dive ...
for suddenly Methos realized his ladder had started to SLIDE!
lynnannCDC
~~~~~~~interlude~~~~~~
The tale is amusing
and talk about timing
but, lahoffy, my dear,
MacNair has been rhyming!
Can you save poor Methos?
He is starting to frown!
Or is his goose cooked
when he does fall down?
Prithee tell me soon
this tale you do weave.
How will it end
and will I believe?
lahoffyCDC
Methos glanced frantically down and saw the girls had grabbed hold of the ladder and were rocking it back and forth. Obviously, they hadn't been kidding with the murderous pantomime.
He grabbed hold of the ledge just as the ladder tipped to the side, clinging desperately to the few scant inches that were all that stood between him and a highly painful landing.
"Connor! Duncan! Rich! Somebody! Anybody!" he shouted frantically.
No response.
He tightened the grip of one hand, releasing the other to pound on the window. "Open the bloody window!" he yelled.
The window slid up and Rich's face peered down at him, a puzzled look on it.
"Hey, Methos, what'cha doing?"
Methos stared aghast at the youngster. "I'm playing Spiderman."
"Oh, OK. Have fun." Richie started to close the window again.
"Richie Ryan, you close that window and I swear I'll hide all the Doritos from you at the next party!"
"Yeah? Not in a real good position to make threats, now are you?"
Methos narrowed his eyes, glaring as he counted to ten, and then twenty in several languages. "Would you just help me in, please?"
Richie reached out a hand, grabbing the ROG's wrist and hauled him inside. "What were you doing out there anyway?"
From the window drifted a chorus of disappointed voices and a few veiled threats. Methos leaned out, smiled, waved and slammed the window closed.
"Another lesson learned. Never get on a ladder around the ladies."
"Unless you're only wearing an apron" called out Duncan from his spot on the bed.
~finis~
April 6, 2002
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