Still Duncan and Methos, the campfire
and the scotch. Just a little more after where I ended at lunchtime.
Rated PG, a bit over 700 words, a
sequel to Amongst the Stars.
Make That Two Bottles
c. July 2007
Duncan eyed the now empty bottle of
scotch somewhat mournfully. The
fire had burnt down to a comforting glow, and two of the planet's four
moons had risen in the night sky above them. "It's later than I thought
it was," he commented. "Hey, where'd Triona get off to? She said she'd
be back after checking on that loose power coupling. That was a few
hours ago," he added, sounding concerned.
"She's fine," Methos reassured him.
"Sound asleep on the ship in fact."
a surprise. I don't think she's slept more than a handful of hours
since we landed." He looked at Methos suspiciously; the other man
looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. "How did you convince
her to take a break?"
"I didn't." If anything, Methos
looked even more pleased with himself.
"Methos, what did you do?" Duncan
wasn't quite sure he wanted to know.
looked sidelong at his companion. "Let's just say that last shot of
scotch I put in her coffee had a little something extra in it."
sputtered a bit before choking out a response, "Something extra? You're
telling me you drugged her?" His voice rose to a note of appalled
"It was for her own good," Methos
"If she wasn't going to listen to sense then more direct action was
required." He laughed at the look on the Highlander's face. "Seriously,
don't you think the woman who monitors the matter/anti-matter mix on
the colony's power generation system should be operating on more than a
few hours total sleep for the week?"
Duncan just stared at him
with no idea where to start. Methos seemed to be totally and thoroughly
unrepentant. In fact, he seemed rather proud of himself.
"At least you didn't shoot her,"
Duncan finally replied with a slightly aggrieved tone.
"That was for your
own good," came the prompt and smug reply. "Please! Don't tell me
you're still holding onto a pout over that?"
You…." he stopped. "Never mind about that," he finally said instead of
whatever he had been going to say. "You never change, Methos. Arranging
and manipulating those around you to suit your whims whether they agree
or not!" He shook his head in exasperation.
Methos was quick
with his rebuttal, "And you never change either, Mac. Always the White
Knight for the women in your life whether they need one or not. And in
this instance, it's not, in case you weren't sure on that point. She's
my wife and I'll care for her as I think best." There was a note of
finality in Methos' voice that clearly said the matter was not up for
Duncan took the hint, knowing from
long experience that
Methos was immovable once he’d decided on a course of action. Whether
it was shooting him in the back to keep him from fighting Stephen
Keane, or drugging Triona so she would sleep, it was all one and the
same. Methos would do whatever he thought was necessary to protect the
people he loved – whether they liked it or not. So instead he said,
"She's going to kill you. You know that, right?"
Methos just grinned. "She can try."
"Yeah, well when you need a place to
sleep tomorrow night, you can bunk in my tent."
"That won't be necessary, Mac. By the
time the day's over, she'll have totally forgiven me," he said
"You think so?" Duncan's tone spoke
volumes at just what he thought the chances of that were.
"I know so." He was smugness
"What are you willing to bet?"
Methos looked at him with a
speculative gleam in his eye. "A bottle of single malt?"
Duncan held out his hand. "I guess we'll see just how persuasive you
can be in about four hours," he said as they shook on it.
"Mmmm… probably more like eight,"
Methos said, looking just the teeniest bit abashed.
“Eight?” he exclaimed. “Just how much
did you give her?”
know when it comes to Immortals that it’s always best to err on the
side of caution,” Methos protested, once more the picture of innocence.
Duncan considered for a moment.
“Let’s make that two bottles.”
The Sequel: To The Victor Go The Spoils