Disclaimers:  can be found in part 1.
Underlining for emphasis; italics for thoughts or foreign languages.
Rated: NC-17 for graphic sex m/f/m (I think she was in the middle) and some implied violence here and there.

The Gathering Darkness, part 2

Erin passed Joe a mug of coffee and the cream and sugar as well.  "So what did you think?"

"I think the girl playing Mabel could etch stone with that soprano," came the reply as he stirred cream into his coffee.  "But I'm sorry, the policemen stole the show every time they came on stage."

"They're supposed to.  But you know, I really have seen cats who moved about that quietly," Erin laughed.  She sat and thought for a little while, her face more serious than usual.

Joe was already getting used to her moods and the way they could shift so suddenly, although usually it was because of a word-choice or turn of phrase which had caught her attention.  This time he didn't know what had brought it on, so he sat and waited patiently.  Watchers got very good at that.

"Joe, I really enjoy spending time with you...."

She paused, trying to phrase something and Joe flinched inwardly, braced for the worst.

"Erin, are you saying you don't want to see me again?"

 She turned to stare at him, wide blue eyes shocked, then suddenly she was laughing despite herself.  "Oh, God, Joe, you'd think at my age....  No, you wonderful man, I'm not breaking up with you!  I... I think I'm going to take the job in Seacouver.  But I didn't know what you'd think, I mean I'm basically moving into--"

Joe pulled her toward him and kissed her enthusiastically.  When they came up for air, both were wearing incredibly silly grins and neither cared in the slightest.  "That's great, Erin!  Do the Watchers know yet?"

"Well....  No.  I decided this afternoon and you're the first I've told."

"Not even Adam?  Damn, woman, you're gonna overinflate my ego."

"You could use a bit more ego, Joe Dawson, you put yourself down too much," came the tart reply.  "I won't be moving until this summer anyway.  I'll start fall of '98.  But I didn't know what you'd think.  You are the Regional Director over there."

"Are you gonna quit the Watchers, or work part-time, or what, darlin'?  Been thinking about it, I take it."

"I'd like to try and stay on part-time.  Maybe help you keep an eye on Duncan, since we'll both be faculty at the same college, and work on the oddball cases during the summers over here.  Doesn't Duncan come over here a fair bit in the summers?"  Erin relaxed, feeling all sorts of tensions drop away as Joe confirmed that he still wanted to see her, didn't mind her being a Watcher in his territory.

"Yeah, he does.  And with him and Adam being an item, I don't know what they're going to do.  I don't think they're going to stay in Paris year-round, though.  I get the impression that Aidan has to spend time in the States."

"Joe, what's between them and Aidan?  I mean, all three of them?  Really?"

"That's what the guys say."  Joe shrugged and continued, "I was more surprised about Adam and Duncan than about both of them and Aidan."

Erin sipped her coffee and said thoughtfully, "You do know that you can tell me something is none of my business, Joe, or that you can't discuss it."

"Darlin', if it's that or lie to you, then I will.  But nothing says you can't ask.  So what's on your mind?"

"Is she an immortal, Joe?"  Erin studied him carefully, feeling tension in him, although his face gave nothing away.

"She's not in our databases, Erin.  And I've never asked her."  Joe caught her eyes with his own and said quietly, "This is why being Mac's Watcher gets tricky.  He's a friend of mine, and I probably need to know.  But I don't want to have to ask him, either."

"Well," Erin pointed out practically, "you couldn't ask him if you had a regular Watcher/immortal relationship, so quit kicking yourself over it.  Aidan knows that you know about immortals.  Could you just ask her?  From what I saw of her sense of humor this evening, she'll think the question's hysterically funny if she isn't."

"I could ask her, Erin, but for all she seems so open -- and mostly is -- Aidan guards some of her privacy ferociously.  I'm not always sure where the line is, either.  Same problem I've got with Mac; I'm a Watcher, but I'm also a friend.  Are you sure you're gonna want to help Watch Mac?  Now that you know how complicated this can get?"

"Oh, come on, Joe.  He knows I'm a Watcher.  He's going to assume I'm keeping an eye on him whether I do or not.  I might as well be blamed for something I'm actually doing!"  She chortled at that, leaning back in her chair as Joe relaxed across from her.  "Speaking of Watching Mac, are you going to follow him to the Valicourts?"

"Nah, their Watcher said he'd keep an eye on things, and Mac'll tell me anything important when he gets back.  One of the advantages to this, I gotta admit.  Between what Mac tells me, what Adam throws in, and a few leading questions to Aidan, I'll hear everything."

Erin chuckled and offered him some more coffee and cream.  "That's what I like about older men, Joe.  You know exactly how to get the most results for... energy expended."  She smiled wickedly and asked, "So, worn out from the evening?"

Joe chuckled, a lecherous light in his eyes to match hers.  "Nope.  Wanna try and wear me out?"

* * * *

Aidan woke to a cool, empty bed and sat upright.  She knew instinctively she should have company, even if she was still sleepy enough to be unsure of who.  After a moment, she registered the feel of two immortals with harmonized quickenings.  A baritone voice and a tenor reply finished settling her back into time.  Now the sound registered as a shower running, not a rain shower, and reluctantly she pulled herself back out of her dreams.

Duncan was still toweling his hair dry as he walked out of the bathroom.  A smile crossed his face when he realized she was awake again.  "Put three men to sleep on a regular basis, hmm?"

She smiled at him and answered, "I'm out of practice.  Give me a few weeks to remember some of the tricks, hmm, Dhonnchaidh?  I'm sure you won't mind my testing some of them on you, will you?"

Methos poked his head out of the bathroom, saying, "Age before beauty, Highlander.  I'm volunteering first."

"Hmm.  He'd make a good demonstration model, Magister; are you sure you don't have a few things to show me?"  Aidan lifted the covers out of the way for them and purred as a warm body settled against her.

Duncan watched his lovers settle against each other, still too surprised by Aidan's comment to move just yet.  He had enjoyed seeing the two of them wrapped around each other, but it hadn't really occurred to him that she enjoyed watching them, too.  For that matter, she was talented enough in bed after spending her entire life bedding mortals.  Ideas spun through his thoughts, things Methos had been slowly teaching him....  The idea of being a demonstration tool and both of them using hands and mouth on him made him regret the fact that they all had to get up in the morning.

Methos smiled at him, "Highlander, did no one ever tell you that brooding is more comfortable someplace warm?"

"Who's brooding?  And you're hogging the covers again."  Duncan slid under the comforter and wrapped himself around Methos, one arm wrapping over the other man to catch Aidan's hand.  Methos growled a protest against cold feet when Mac threw a leg over his thigh and ran his foot along the other man's calf, but it was half-hearted at best.

Aidan sighed in contentment and briefly squeezed Duncan's hand.  Finally waking up again, she asked, "Wasn't my hair loose when you two put me to sleep?"

"Yes, but we're kind, generous men.  We braided it for you."  Methos yelped as she pinched his ribs and demanded, "What was that for, Edana?  We even cleaned you up and let you sleep while we got a shower."

"You'd have to, Methos, the shower isn't really big enough for three.  Well, maybe.  With some work.  Besides, how much is your kindness going to cost me?"  Aidan watched Methos' face, pleased to see how happy he was curled against Duncan and how well they suited each other, in temperament as much as looks.

"Tonight?  Nothing, I'm feeling charitable."

"Besides, he's already gotten what he really wanted," Mac threw in, grinning.

Aidan snickered at that and said, "No, we haven't put him in the middle yet.  Trust me, Hajji and Sayyida used to drive him half-mad."

Duncan blinked, then said curiously, "I thought you didn't sleep with immortals until a few months ago, Aidan.  What am I missing here?"

"She wasn't sleeping with me, MacLeod, but her husbands were, and eventually her sister-wives," Methos answered cheerfully.  "Come on, man, she had three husbands, she could spare me one when I came to visit."  Aidan elbowed him in the ribs, but she was chuckling as he continued, "And the men were so used to me in the bed with them when I visited, that Sayyida and Jahana just assumed it was normal and that I was another husband who didn't come by very often."

Aidan smiled at Duncan's bemused, aroused expression.  "Duncan, you know what housing was like until, oh, the last century or so.  We only had four rooms in that house, and for years just one very large bed for the lot of us.  The first night Methos was in with me and my husbands, Ishak said he was too beautiful to be neglected and the other two agreed.  Fairly simple, I think.  They wanted to make love and weren't going to leave Methos out unless he insisted.

"After Jahana and Sayyida joined us, they really did think Methos was just another husband, one who traveled.  Now, when Jahana got pregnant, we broke down and enlarged the bedroom and built a couple more beds as well.  She got irritable if she had more than one person in with her when she was heavy pregnant, but she did like having a warm body against her back, usually me because I'd rub the muscles out."

 "So, what, you'd be curled up with Jahana, and Hajji and Sayyida would trap him?"

Aidan gave him an amused look.  "Dhonnchaidh, you've known Amanda how long?  Three hundred years?  Did you never notice that women enjoy watching, too?  How do you think romance novels sell?"

Duncan did laugh at that, face going red as he remembered some of the scenes Carolyn Marsh, Terrence Coventry's mortal wife, had put in her latest 'bodice-ripping' romance novel.  Seeing his name attached to fairly... intimate descriptions had been arousing all right -- and extremely embarrassing.  Joe and Amanda hadn't let him live it down yet.

Methos quirked that sarcastic half-smile of his and answered, "Oh, he starred in one, Aidan, did no one tell you?"

"Methos, shut up."

Aidan sat up in bed, wrapping the blanket around her; Methos growled at the chill air on his exposed side.  She gleefully asked, "Oh, someone tell me.  What do you mean, starred in?"

"Bring the blankets back before I freeze, wench."

Duncan promptly wrapped both arms around the older man and offered, "You don't tell her about it, and I keep you warm."

"Tell me, and I keep you warm," Aidan immediately riposted.

"Fine.  You tell her and I warm both your backsides,"  Duncan promptly retorted.  To his annoyance, Methos immediately turned to Aidan to hear the counter-threat.

She, meanwhile, looked scornfully at the Scot.  "I am torn between the clichéd, if true, 'you and what army?' and the equally clichéd, 'Please, Bre'r Fox, don' throw me in that there briar patch.'  As if a spanking is a threat, MacLeod."

"Oh, I don't know, Aidan.  I'm so tired, I'd probably fall asleep as soon as I was through paddling you," he replied, a faintly malicious smile on his face.  Duncan was all too aware that, in the right mood, spanking Aidan aroused her no small amount.

Methos cracked a grin at that.  What the Highlander didn't know yet was that both of the older immortals enjoyed dishing out a spanking, too.  Serve MacLeod right if the two older ones pinned him down, warmed that gorgeous ass... and went to sleep themselves.

Aidan contemplated Duncan thoughtfully, then smiled sadly at him.  "Younger men -- no stamina.  Oh, well, Highlander, another time.  I'll just remember to ask Amanda all about you and the romance novel when I see her.  I'm sure she can tell me the full story."

Duncan sputtered for a second, then settled down to a serious pout over the 'no stamina' comment.  After a few seconds, he flipped over onto his other side, facing away from them and still muttering in a mimicry of Aidan's voice.  The Highlander had added a new item to his list of things never to do -- never piss off a writer who'd been his lover for a few years and knew all the revealing stories about him.  Actually, he was trying not to laugh at the idea of Amanda trying to tell Aidan about the whole fiasco of the romance novel cum revenge scenario.  Maybe he could bribe Joe to find a way to tape it?

Aidan stared at the younger man, surprised and a bit worried.  She'd never seen him like this before and wondered if he his feelings had truly been hurt.  His body language certainly looked offended and upset, lying there with his arms crossed and back to them, ignoring both her and Methos.  Duncan was many things in bed, but inattentive was decidedly not on the list.  Oh, hell, have I made one smart crack too many?

Methos, however, knew him better than that.  The younger man counterfeited agitation very well.  It may be one of the few skills Duncan picked up running around with Walter's acting company.  Well, that and a fondness for poetry, the older immortal admitted to himself.  However, definitely time to knock him out of this mood.

Methos sat up himself, having given up on getting the blankets back from Aidan, and swatted Duncan hard on the ass.  "Are you through worrying Edana yet, or shall we see who gets his backside warmed?"

The Scot twisted back over to evade another blow and found himself pinned by Methos, the older man leaning half over him as he held the Highlander's arms down.  "Are you through, MacLeod?  Or shall I spank you another few times to jar your brain into working?"

"Methos, leave be.  Duncan, did I actually hurt your feelings?"

She sounded concerned and the Highlander promptly dropped the act.  "No, Aidan, I was just getting even with you after that crack about my age."

"Oh.  Good."  She gave him a thoughtful look and said, "Dhonnchaidh, have you ever been in a three-way relationship like this?"

"I'd never taken a male lover before now, Aidan, what do you think?"

"Not even with two women, love?"

"No.  I went to bed with Rebecca and Amanda once, but that wasn't a relationship.  It was a friendly night's exercise -- well, for Rebecca at least.  Why?"  Duncan twisted his wrists sharply, dislodging Methos' hold, and caught the other man as he dropped.  When they had finished rearranging themselves, the older man was sprawled on Duncan's chest, one warm arm wrapped around him and their legs intertwined.  Aidan laughed and curled against the Highlander's other side, her arm thrown over the two of them, which brought a purring sigh from Methos.

"Because, Dhonnchaidh, I don't know what experience you have with... balancing would be the best word I think... balancing a relationship with two other people when you are trying to keep it equal between all parties."

Duncan cast back through his memories for anything close to what she was mentioned.  "Not much.  Amanda's always wandered in and out of my life, but she and I would kill each other if we lived together, and we both know it.  I don't think being an evenhanded officer for His Majesty's armies in the Napoleonic War is quite what you meant," and he tapped her lightly on the nose.

A soft chuckle answered that.  "No, not exactly!"

Methos snorted in derision.  "Oh, right, MacLeod, like we'd pay any more attention to your orders just because we're sharing a bed.  I don't remember that my sleeping on your couch gave you any authority."

"No, just an empty refrigerator," Duncan jibed.  "Seriously, though, Aidan, are you worried?"

"No, not yet.  Methos and I have both done this before, if not with each other.  The hardest part is the care required not to favor one lover over the other.  I don't want to think about a lover's quarrel when all three of us carry swords."

Methos kept his voice casual, threading fingers through Duncan's hair to reassure him.  "No, Highlander, there's no problem yet, Edana's simply trying to prevent one.  Nothing wrong with mischief and pranks back and forth, mind."

"Lady, no, not at all.  I simply don't want any of us hurt, if at all possible.  If we can last out the first few months, we'll get to the point where we compensate back and forth for each other almost automatically.  It's getting through those first few disagreements and the inevitable times when one of us puts her or his foot in mouth...."  She shrugged and sighed.  "It'll probably happen anyway.  But if I hurt you, love, tell me."  Aidan kissed his hand, then pulled the covers back over all of them.  "Deal?"

Duncan reached across Methos to stroke her shoulder.  "If you'll do the same.  No strong, silent routine just because you've done this before and don't want to upset us with a complaint."

"Deal.  Methos?"

He shrugged, knowing they'd both feel it.  "There's another way to do this?  Of course."

Aidan poked him in an available bicep, hard.  "I mean it, Magister.  You tell us if we're hurting you, or excluding you, or making you jealous.  Promise me."

His voice unexpectedly serious, Methos replied, "Yes.  I'll tell you if there's a problem.  I've waited too long for both of you to let any of us destroy this by accident."

Aidan sighed, content and sliding back down into sleep already now that this was resolved.  "Good.  Everything else is detail and can be hashed out later."

Duncan smiled against the top of Methos' head, still caressing Aidan's shoulder.  "Everything else?"

"Sleeping arrangements, students, who takes challenges....  As I said, everything."

Methos chuckled when she yawned in the middle of a word.  "No stamina, woman, but you're right.  We'll sort it out later.  Happy Samhain, Edana."

"Happy Samhain, Methos, Dhonnchaidh."  She yawned again and cuddled in between the two of them.  "This is a wonderful start to the new year.  Bless you both."

One long-fingered hand stroked her hair gently.  "Sleep well."  Methos smiled at Duncan in the faint light from the fire.  "You, too, Highlander.  Get some sleep.  We have to get up in a few hours and go see Gina and Robert.  And you two are driving the first leg."

"Us?"  Duncan replied indignantly. "Why us?"

"Because you two actually like mornings.  I'll drive in the afternoon."  Methos ran a finger across his lover's lips.  "Hush, MacLeod.  Sleep.  Tomorrow we'll talk."  The younger man kissed his finger, then wriggled to get more comfortable under his lover.  Methos fell asleep thinking that perhaps tonight he wouldn't have  nightmares.

* * * *

Riga, Latvia - later that same night

The clatter of keys sounded almost like machine-gun fire.  Jirina entered data onto the spreadsheet on the left side of the screen, smugly pleased to see the numbers which appeared on the right.  Keeping two sets of books was something of a nuisance, but she needed one with the faked figures for government audits.  As for the other, well, the Slavic woman appreciated knowing how much money her black-market antibiotics and narcotics were truly generating.  Between the smuggling and the occasional service in providing passports, visas, and alibis, her finances were the best she had ever achieved in just over seven centuries of life.

Receipts and log entries shifted under her fingers as the pile of papers steadily diminished.  The peace and quiet of the small hours of the morning remained her favorite time to work.  No noises except rustling papers and clicking keys, no smells except the tea steeping in the samovar beside her desk -- this was the most productive time of her day.  At the bottom of one stack Jirina paused and stretched, flexing tired fingers, then reached for her mug of strong, black tea.

When the phone rang, she stifled an extremely obscene comment about the caller's sexual preferences and picked it up despite the late hour.  "Petesceu."

"Jirina, my dear.  I have a job for you."

The purring tenor on the other end of the line brought her to full wakefulness immediately.  Pale blue eyes narrowed and her thoughts kicked into overdrive.  "Owain.  To what do I owe this unexpected call?"

"Not a pleasure?  What a pity.  I want you and Lim to hunt an immortal for me.  I do not want him killed, but I want to know who's there, how he reacts... everything."

"You don't want him killed, or you don't want his head taken?" she asked meditatively, one hand playing with short, thick blond hair.

"I don't want his head taken.  I think I was perfectly clear, Jirina."  Owain's voice took on a chilling edge, although the expression on his face never changed. He tilted back in his chair, studying the sky with a small part of his attention.  The unbroken blue promised another glaringly hot afternoon in Sydney, Australia.  "Coordinate your arrival with Lim, but I want both of you in Paris by the day after tomorrow.  See to your own ticket and accommodations.  Your current finances can stand it."

Jirina tabled that matter for the moment.  He was right, although she was displeased that he knew it and presumed he could still order her about; Owain hadn't been her teacher for more than five centuries now.  In the same calm voice, she continued, "Then this is about your line-war with Cynthia.  Have you found that little bitch at last?"

"Not yet, but soon.  A pity you don't know what she looks like; I could use a portrait to circulate among our people."

Forgetting that her former teacher couldn't see it across the phone, Jirina shrugged.  "I never met her, Owain.  Heard about her, oh, yes.  Damiano and FitzCairn both raved about the bitch."

Owain spoke thoughtfully, "FitzCairn, unfortunately for this, is out of the Game.  Do you suppose Damien would know how to contact her?"

"With Darius dead?"  Jirina laughed contemptuously.  "I doubt it.  That old pacifist played meeting point and mediator for ten score of us, at least.  No, with Darius dead, and Adrianna as well, I don't think Damiano has any way of finding her."

"Would he tell you if he did?"

Owain's voice sounded exquisitely detached, which meant he was plotting furiously, Jirina knew.  "Did hell freeze over and I missed it?" came the acerbic reply.  "For some reason he never forgave me for trying to kill Amanda LeFauve."

"For some reason," Owain mocked her.  "Only that they had been lovers off and on for three decades."

Jirina shrugged again.  "Well, there was that.  So who am I not going to shorten by a head?  You do realize that I can only spare a few days away from business on such short notice."

"His name is Duncan MacLeod.  He lives on a barge called the Nobile, which is moored across the Seine from le Cathedral de Notre Dame.  Rattle him for me, Jirina.  Frighten him thoroughly and find out who he sees, who he knows.  But do not kill him or those around."

She wrote down the details, then said thoughtfully, "MacLeod?  What relationship to Connor MacLeod?"

"Cousin and student.  Does it matter?  You're not going to kill him."

"Connor is dangerous, Owain.  Have you forgotten that he took out the Kurgan?  I haven't.  I'd rather not offend him by accident."

Owain said dryly, "But on purpose?"

"For a quickening like his, it had better be on purpose," she said grimly.  "I will do this job for you, Owain, and I will handle my own expenses.  But when I get back, you will send me a summary of who in the line of Ramirez might help Cynthia, and who from our line is willing to oppose her.  I'm not a tool for you to test to destruction, old man."

"You will do as I say, when I say, Jirina," and now his voice was arctic iron, cold forged and bitter to the ear.  "I never taught you everything, woman.  You will hunt Duncan MacLeod for me.  You will do anything else I require to pursue this line war.  If you obey me, I will give you Duncan MacLeod's head, which will hurt Amanda LeFauve as badly as the death of Rebecca Horne did.  If you disobey me, I will give you to Enrique for his pleasure.  Which will it be, Jirina?"

Brought up short on a leash she had thought long broken, Jirina shuddered.  For a long moment she couldn't speak, couldn't breathe.  Memories of old sparring sessions with her teacher came back and the strength of five centuries' independence bled away, leaving her pale and shivering in her chair.  Even now she couldn't take Owain in a fight, and well she knew it.  The thought of being handed over to his pet madman, the immortal who had once been an Inquisitor....  She shuddered again, forcing down vivid memories of the human wreckage tied to stakes and burned during those times.  Oh, no, she was not letting Enrique get his hands on her.

Drawing a deep breath, she steadied her voice through sheer will and answered, "I said I'd hunt him for you, Owain.  But I will still want that information."

On the other end of the line, her teacher smiled.  He had heard exactly those tones many times before, when Jirina knew herself beaten and pushed for one more exchange in a chess-game or sparring match to spare herself a little pride.  Telling her those details had already been a part of his plan; he would give her the point to keep her firmly on his side.  "Of course, my dear.  I'll have Lim contact you to synchronize such details as hotel accommodations.  And Jirina?"

"Yes?"  She took another deep breath, held it, then let go.

"Call me when you're through.  I have a suspicion that MacLeod will be very important to this."  He hung up without waiting for a reply and laughed softly in his office.  "Oh, yes, the MacLeods will be very important indeed.  One way or another."

* * * *

Chateau de Valicourt, the next afternoon

Gina de Valicourt waited impatiently at the best of times.  At the moment, though, she reminded her husband of a caged panther as she paced back and forth in the entryway.  Robert ran one hand through his short, sandy-blond hair and commented, "Dearest, they'll be here soon.  Wearing a hole in the marble is not going to tell you who Duncan's bringing, or why he said they would only need one room.  Which room did you give them, by the way?"

Three centuries in France had not eradicated the Italian accent in his wife's voice.  "I gave them the Gold Suite on the other wing, of course.  Just because they only need one bed doesn't mean they can't use a sitting room and a second room if someone can't sleep."

Robert nodded, remembering the way morning sunlight lit that entire suite of rooms.  The walls were palest gold with ivy painted up one corner to spill around the top borders, and deeper gold drapes made the room even brighter.  "You're putting Duncan in the suite with the huge tub."

"Well, of course," Gina replied indignantly.  "When is the last time he brought a special guest?  Hmm?  I just wish he had told me who!"  She spun around and began pacing again, skirt flaring around her calves.

Robert soothed her, saying, "Carissima mia, we'll know any minute.  And on the bright side, he said that Adam would be showing up at some point to do the book appraisals, and I know you've been looking forward to seeing him again."

Gina's face softened at that.  She had grown very fond of the young academic, even if he had helped Duncan's matchmaking by staging a duel with her husband.  "I am, Robert, and I am not.  I like Adam a great deal, and I wonder how he is handling Duncan's newest paramour."

"Hopefully, he's not handling her at all," Robert pointed out, then paused and looked at his wife.  "Why would Adam be having a problem?"

"Because he's in love with Duncan.  Don't you ever see anything?"

The exasperated look from those dark eyes told Robert he had obviously missed several steps in this chain of logic, or was that emotion?  Then the former pirate considered her words again and stared at his wife.  "In love?  Duncan?  Gina, Adam's--"

"What?  Male?  Oh, Robert, don't be so provincial."  She sounded disappointed with him.  "You and Duncan, both so convinced that you should only be attracted to one kind of person."

"I'm attracted to you, Angelina, bella mia," he murmured, bending to kiss her just under the point of her jaw.  "Besides, I was going to say that he was taking on a lost cause.  Duncan and another man?  I think the English will come up with decent cuisine more quickly."

"Perhaps, Robert.  Besides, I like Adam.  I would very much like to see him happy, and Duncan is too serious."  Gina pouted and continued, "I simply think Duncan could do much worse."

Robert sighed and said, "Well, you can tell him so tonight if you don't like this new woman.  However, I think that's Duncan's car pulling in now, dear, so why don't you smooth your hair and we'll go meet her."

They made it to the front door as Duncan was opening the passenger door on his car, his back to them.  Gina hissed in irritation when she still couldn't see his lady.  The laughing voice she heard was entirely unexpected and for a moment Gina couldn't place it.  Robert, however, walked forward with a surprised expression on his face

"Duncan?  How are you, mon ami?"  Moving smoothly around Duncan's shoulder, Robert confirmed his first suspicion and asked, "Aithnea?  Is that you?"

Aidan grinned up at him.  "Hello, Robert, you old rogue.  Stolen any good cargoes lately?"

Duncan watched Robert's jaw drop and couldn't stop grinning.  It was so rarely that he completely surprised these two.  Gina stopped staring and threw herself on her old friend.  "Sidra!  How are you, dear?!  I thought you were still in New York."

Aidan laughed at that.  "Only you could make New York sound like the outer edges of civilization, dear."

"The part of it you were living in is the edge of civilization," Gina shuddered.  "I mean, really.  Syracuse?  But what are you doing here?  You're always welcome, but we have been trying to get you back to Europe since before you took this last name!"

Duncan leaned against the car, brown eyes dancing with laughter.  It had been a toss-up as to whether Gina's manners or curiosity would win, and so far the Italian woman's feline instincts were in full ascendancy.  He glanced down at his watch, timing it to see how long it would take before his hostess said hello.  Behind him, he could feel Methos trying not to chuckle.  Robert and Gina were surprised enough by Sidra/Aithnea (and Duncan made a mental note to ask what exactly that cargo crack had meant).  Adam thrown into the mix should make for a very interesting dinner conversation.  Gina would undoubtedly try to be blunt, Robert would try to be polite, and a merry evening would be had by all.

Aidan huffed in exasperation.  "Gina.  I was in Milan not forty years ago, remember?  You and Robert had me shipping you wine on a regular basis, because I was investing in the vineyards you like so much.  I have not been living in the outer edges of nowhere and you know it.  And I'm here with Duncan, dear, how did you miss that?"

Now Robert did stare at her.  "Now, wait, Aithnea.  No, it's Aidan, now, isn't it?"

"How do you recognize my letters from name to name, Robert?" Aidan asked in utter seriousness.

"Your handwriting," he answered absently.  "I spent a month once learning to forge it, then gave up because your factors insisted on a face to face meeting before they'd give me the emerald mine."

Grey eyes glared at him indignantly.  "You tried to steal my emerald mine?!  Robert!  What ever happened to honest thievery!  You could have at least held a sword to my throat so that we could discuss it.  That's... that's--"  She paused hunting for a word and Duncan chipped in.

"What?  Swindling?  That's how he got a wife," the Highlander smiled.  "I seem to remember something about twenty thousand gold louis, Gina."

"He's paid it all back with interest, Duncan.  And it's very good to see you, but could you not have told us you were bringing another friend of ours?"  The Italian immortal wrapped her arms around her husband's waist adoringly, although she was still glaring at Duncan.

The Highlander shrugged, donning his best innocent look.  "How did I know you three were friends, Gina?  It hasn't really come up.  Aidan only got to France yesterday, and I forgot to tell her we were coming out here."

Aidan had not given up on the discussion about her emeralds.  "Now, look, Robert.  Just because I was the one who had to certify that your virgin Spanish noblewoman wasn't a virgin...."

Robert immediately replied, "I got a quarter of the ransom for her that I should have, Aithnea, and it was your fault!"

"Hah!  I told you to ransom the wench back to her family, but no, you had to try the consul's office instead for the quicker money.  It was not my fault!"  Aidan leaned in, fists set on her hips, enjoying this argument thoroughly.

Methos had unfolded himself from the driver's seat while Gina and Duncan were listening with great interest to this conversation.  Now he couldn't resist pointing out the obvious.  "Well, you certainly aren't equipped to deflower virgins, Aidan."  The meaningful smile he gave Duncan had the Scot ducking his head to hide a faint flush.

Gina turned at the new voice, then threw herself at him.  "Adam!  You're here early!"  She hugged Adam, who seemed almost embarrassed by her effusiveness.  "Duncan, why didn't you tell us?  We don't have a room ready for him.  Robert, what do you think about--"

In unison, all three visitors said, "No, Gina."

Gina kept right on talking to Robert, waving one hand absently to dismiss their protests.  "--the Forest Room next to the Gold Suite, yes?  The bed is certainly long enough for such tall legs."

Aidan promptly said, "No, Gina, we only need the one room.  I promise."

In the same instant Duncan said firmly, "Don't put your servants to the extra trouble, Gina.  Adam's going to be sleeping with us."

Gina turned, startled, to see that her old friend stood there with one arm around Aidan's shoulders and the other around Adam's waist.  Adam was leaning into Duncan's chest.  When he met her eyes, Adam gave a half-shrug, an amused and very pleased look on his face.  Aidan met the Italian woman's eyes and smiled, looking as content as a cat turned loose in the catnip.

Robert meanwhile studied Aidan, then Duncan, then Adam, and turned back to Aidan.  Turning to Gina, he said politely, "Excuse me a moment, dear.  Aithnea!"

The bellow startled Gina and Duncan both. The young-appearing Irish woman straightened her spine, chin coming up to an imperious tilt, and her shoulders went back in perfect parade-ground stance.  She glared at him for a long moment, then replied coldly, "Robert?"  The French pronunciation of the name nearly dripped ice across the ground between them, and left no questions as to what she thought of being yelled at.

"One room?"

She tilted her head to one side, poised and dangerous as either Robert or Gina had ever seen her.  She knew full well where this was going.  "Yes, one room.  One bed.  Is this a problem?"

The French (former) pirate stood there, hands on his hips, glaring at her.  "Three years I worshipped you, living to hear your voice, hoping for a chance to cross swords with you solely to see you.  The most fascinating woman I had ever met, and you turned me down every time I asked.  And why?"  He dropped to one knee in front of her, grabbing her unresisting hands as Aidan stared down at him, mouth slightly open in sheer shock.  "Because you had sworn never to bed one of our kind!"

He clasped her hands in one of his, the other palm cutting the air for emphasis.  "And then, then I meet the only woman of our kind who surpassed you.  My Gina stole my heart immediately!  But!"  And he paused dramatically, keeping her off-balance emotionally through long practice.  "Now, when I see you again, not only do I find you have broken your solemn oath -- but with a younger man?!  Younger men?!  How dare you, Aithnea!  I am shattered!  Distraught!"

Adam sagged against the Citroen, laughing himself half-sick.  Duncan glanced back and forth anxiously from Aidan's stunned expression to Robert's indignant look to Gina's half-horrified, half-angry face.  Oh, Lord -- Hiroshima was plenty.  Gina and Aidan drawing swords on each other would start off one hell of a chain reaction.

The Irish woman in question was still giving Robert a shocked look.  "You what?  But I--"

"And with a Scottish barbarian, my dear?  When you could have had a French nobleman!  When Fitz would have happily worshipped at your feet?  Haresh Clay would have made you a sultana!  And you choose a Scottish pup!  And an academic?  Both of them?!"

The academic in question was laughing so hard now that he had his head down on his arms, folded half over the car.  Gina threw one hand up to cover her mouth, dark eyes bright with emotion.  Aidan finally found her voice and started to say indignantly, "Robert!  Fitz worshipped women, period!  Besides, Haresh was joking, he was married!  And you!  We were always...."

Robert couldn't hold back his laughter at the appalled expression on her face.  He quickly wrapped his free hand around her wrists so that she wouldn't draw a sword, but his unrestrained mirth undid Aidan.  The Irish woman went from sputtering explanations in French to shaking, chuckling laughter, finally howling with laughter herself.  She ended up on her knees as well, leaning against Robert and wiping tears of laughter from her eyes with the back of one hand.  Gina smiled to see that her husband had reduced the Irish immortal to blushing.

Duncan glared at Robert when the Frenchman finally stood up.  "Pup?  Barbarian?  And just who had to come to who for help with his marriage?  Hmm?  'Please, Duncan, she's the only woman for me.  She's my life, what can I do?' "  The mimicry of Robert's voice and accent caught the pirate's intonation so perfectly that Gina wrapped her other hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking as she tried not to laugh outright at her husband.

"Worshipped her?  This from a man who tried to swindle her out of her emerald mine?"  Adam, who had finally managed to get himself under control, ducked his head and tried not to start back up again as Duncan continued to mimic Robert with irritating accuracy.

Gina finally caught her breath and said, "Inside, all of you!  Adam, stand up, try to remember how to breathe, hmm?  It would be dreadfully embarrassing if you laughed yourself to death on my doorstep.  Duncan, stop imitating Robert!"  She caught the taller immortal by one ear, twisting it unmercifully to get his attention, then let go again.  "Open the boot so the servants can bring your bags and come inside!  Robert!  Quit laughing and be useful!  Aidan, come along, you and I will get some tea and let the men work off this excessive machismo they seem to have acquired.  Now, what's this about an emerald mine?"  The smaller immortal woman swept Aidan up and inside the house from where she still knelt.

Adam caught Duncan's eye and muttered in Gaelic, "Younger?  Younger?  Oh, Gods!" and started laughing again, arms wrapped around his ribs.

Duncan sighed, still chuckling himself, and hauled the older man up by one arm.  "Will you quit laughing?  Do you really want Gina to come see what's keeping us?"

Methos leaned in, green-gold eyes mesmerizing Duncan from a distance of mere inches.  "Why should I quit laughing, Mac?  What do I have better to do?"

Robert stared in complete surprise as Duncan growled something unintelligible and trapped Adam against the car, kissing him.  For a few seconds, all Robert could do was watch in complete fascination as his good friend, possibly the most thoroughly heterosexual man he'd ever met other than Gabriel Piton, wrapped himself around another man.  Eventually, though, good manners reasserted themselves and the former baron turned around to consider whether his house or lawn needed any repair work.  He had worked his way through to considering mulching the roses, and was running out of topics, when Duncan tapped him on one shoulder.

"Shall we?  Gina and Aidan are waiting."

Robert sighed.  "I was waiting on you, Duncan.  Hello, Adam."

Adam gave him that amused, knowing half-smile which drove Robert mad, and answered, "Hello, Robert.  Worshipped her from afar, hmm?  Nice job of yanking Aidan's chain."

"Well, of course.  I've owed her something like this for ages over that whole Spanish noblewoman fiasco," Robert replied happily.  "But has she finally changed her mind?  No offense intended, Duncan, but that vow of hers was older than you are, old friend."

"No offense taken, Robert," Duncan answered, smiling a pleasant smile that immediately told the former pirate to watch his back.  Duncan wasn't offended, but he was going to get even for that somehow.

Robert noticed that his question hadn't been answered and resolved to find some way to ask Aidan.  Hmm, maybe Adam would be willing to tell me?  In the meantime....  "Come along, you two, I'll show you your rooms."  One raised hand forestalled any protests.  "It's a suite, Duncan, in case you truly snore as badly as Fitz always claimed."

Adam answered snidely, "No, actually it's more like a bass purr.  Rather soothing."

Duncan gave him an indignant glare.  "I do not."

"How would you know, Highlander?  You're asleep at the time," Methos pointed out reasonably, maliciously provoking Robert who was looking more and more appalled by this conversation.  He'd suspected that the former pirate was not going to cope well with this.  Having the other man know that Aidan had never intended to sleep with another immortal was simply additional leverage for mischief-making.  After all, Robert had come closer to making Methos lose his head than most.

"Well, at least I don't steal all the covers," Duncan retorted hotly.

"No, that's Aidan," came the immediate riposte.

Robert gestured them up the stairs and tried valiantly not to react to this ongoing competition to get the last word.  It was a doomed effort from the start.

"No," Duncan answered, "it can't be Aidan.  Else she'd not wake me up burrowing in for warmth at three in the morning."

"Oh, is that what you call it this century?" Adam asked with great and abstracted innocence.

"No, I think they called it bundling a few centuries ago.  These days, it's called conserving body heat."

"Well, you certainly get hot easily," Adam murmured wickedly.  The caressing tone of voice made Robert decide to pay close attention to the veins in the marble floor.

Duncan's eyes darkened as arousal spiked through him.  Deliberately, he reached for the link between himself and Methos and pushed the feeling of lust at his lover.  Methos gasped for breath, suddenly unsure there was enough oxygen in the room.  A faint flush colored his cheeks and Duncan switched to Gaelic to spare Robert's nerves.

"Oh, I don't know, gradhach.  Your mouth is certainly hot enough when it's wrapped around me, and those warm hands on my thighs as you kneel between my legs...."

Methos broke stride for a second, feeling Duncan's hand hot against the small of his back.  A sudden, very visceral memory of that exact position and action flashed through his mind, leaving him off-balance.  His lips thinned as he glared at Duncan.  "Highlander," Methos growled, also in Gaelic.

"Yes?"  The Scot caught him with those dark eyes and licked his lips, smiling to see the immediate surge of lust across his lover's face.

"Unless you just want to shock Robert, you'd better get him out of the room as soon as we get there.  Because sixty seconds after we get in that room, your clothes are coming off, and inside two minutes I'm going to be so far inside you that you're not going to remember a time we weren't lovers," Methos purred.

Duncan's eyes widened.  Since they had become lovers, Methos had rarely initiated things.  The younger man suspected that he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop or something, or that he was afraid of suggesting something that would shock Duncan.  This aggression both startled and aroused him.

Robert hadn't understood a word they'd said, but the tones of voice had been unmistakable.  Opening a door, he showed the two men into a sitting room where lamps were already lit against the first shadows of late afternoon.  "Duncan, Adam, this room connects to the bathroom there, and the doors on either side open onto the bedrooms.  I'll have the servants leave your bags here, so that you can decide which room you want."  Seeing the barely contained tension in both men, he hastily concluded, "I'm sure you want to clean up, so I'll just leave you now.  We'll be downstairs in the salon."

The Frenchman closed the door quickly behind himself and leaned against the wall for a moment, waiting for the embarrassed flush to fade from his face before he went to give the servants their instructions.  Ah, young love.  I wonder if Gina and I ever looked so impatient?  I hope so!  Through the door, he heard a bedroom door slam closed.

When he walked into the salon, Gina gave him an inquiring look.  "Where are Duncan and Adam?"

"They'll be here in a little while," he answered evasively, trying not to look at Aidan.

She smiled in open amusement.  "Cleaning up, are they?"  Her tone gave an entirely different meaning to 'cleaning'.

"Well, they'll certainly need to," Robert answered.  "I think young Pierson must be full of surprises.  Perhaps I should learn Gaelic after all."

Gina stared at her husband.  "What is going on, Robert?  Where are they?"

Aidan laughed merrily.  "Very, very busy, Gina.  They'll be here in a while.  Who started it, Robert?"

"Oh, Duncan started it, I think, but Adam seemed to have the advantage on points when I left them," he answered.  "Absolutely amazing, Aithnea, I do believe that...."

"Robert!"  Gina interrupted him, having finally translated her husband's evasive comments.  "Leave them some privacy!  And I want to hear about this emerald mine.  Sidra, when were you a pirate?"  She changed the topic decisively, not letting her husband continue down that train of thought.

"What's amazing about it, Robert?" came the laughing reply.  "That's older than both of us put together.  And I was never a pirate, Gina, that's nothing but rumor."

Robert rolled his eyes.  "Oh, of course you weren't a pirate.  Explain that sword I took from you in Cadiz."

"I left that sword in Cadiz, Robert."

Gina smiled watching them spat so amiably.  Both of them were smiling too much and too happily for this to be serious.  For the next half-hour or so, the three talked knowledgeably and sometimes hotly about swords, which led to smuggling, which led to brandy.  They were in the middle of an involved argument on the merits of various European wines when Duncan and Adam arrived downstairs, clean, still a bit damp, and laughing.

* * * *

Washington, DC - a week later

"For such light hair," the quiet voice commented, "you certainly blend into shadows well, Kyra."

"Practice, Jared, practice," the lanky blond murmured back without turning her head to look at the black-haired man.  "What are you doing here?"

"Came to see who you were stalking.  Is this just practice or did he annoy you?"

Kyra dodged that one, asking, "No, no, Jared, finish answering my question.  What are you doing here?  Following me?"

"I was going to ask you to dinner and didn't want to yell down the hall after you," he said equably.  "Then I saw the way you were moving and decided silence was definitely a better idea.  So are you available for dinner or shall we finish dealing with him?"

"We?" Kyra asked, torn between irritation at Jared, fury at the immortal who'd been stalking her for a day and a half, and laughter over Jared's cheerful persistence.

"Well, how else am I going to clear up your schedule to get you to Pepino's?" he asked reasonably, glancing over her shoulder.  "So who is he?"

"I don't know.  He's been following me since last night," she answered absently.  "Pepino's, hmm?  I hear they have wonderful cannoli.  That's a long drive though."

Jared shrugged.  "The little places have the best food.  Last night, hmm?  What did the consul records have on him?"

"Nothing.  I tried."

"Hmm.  Well, we could do this the simple way," the tall man answered, a dangerous gleam in his eye.  He stretched his shoulders, flexing and easing muscles under the warm leather jacket.

"What did you have in mind?" Kyra asked cautiously.  Jared's sense of humor never led where anyone expected.  Which was almost certainly why he'd had such an outstanding record with the Special Forces and still did with Interpol, she mused.

"I don't know about you," came the chuckled reply, "but I think he looks suspicious.  And he is waiting outside the Brazilian consulate, and has been for forty-five minutes."  Pulling a small Kodak camera and a satellite phone out of his pockets, Jared said pleasantly, "Who was it that said that intelligence is the first priority of war?"

"Sun Tzu, most likely," Kyra said irritably.  "You do realize I can take care of him myself."

"Of course you can," he answered, honestly surprised.  "Are your instincts acting up?"

"No," she grumbled, "not really.  I just can't decide what he thinks he's doing."

"Well, I'll call Tomas, since he's heading up the consul's security this month, then it'll be time for me to play tourist.  We'll run his picture through Interpol's records, too, and you and I can have a nice dinner while Brazil's most paranoid ask him all sorts of questions."

"Hmm.  I buy?"

"Of course not," Jared retorted.  "That might be interpreted as bribery, since we're going by my office after dinner to find out who he is.  On the other hand, I will let you cover the wine if I get to cover the food."

Kyra shook her head very slightly, an unwilling smile crossing her face as she watched the strange immortal get more and more uneasy.  This could be downright entertaining.  She could always challenge him tomorrow, when he was shaken up by the consul's scrutiny.  "Oh, why not?  But tell Tomas to chase him off, not question him.  I want to be able to find him tomorrow."

"Kyra."  Jared wrapped a strong hand around her upper arm and she turned to see concerned, light blue eyes studying her intently. "Are you in trouble?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Because you never did find your husband's killer," he said bluntly.

Not in a way or time that I can tell the authorities about, Kyra thought grimly.  That murdering bastard is out of the Game now, but that's not something mortal police are going to be satisfied by.  No wonder Jared's wondering what I'm doing.

"And because you want to be able to find this guy again," Jared continued, watching thoughts whirl through her eyes and frustrated when she gave away nothing of the emotions underlying them.  "Is there something you aren't telling me, Kyra?"

"Jared, you can't tell me everything."

"Comes of working for Interpol."

"Well, there are things I can't tell you either.  He might be one of them."

He nodded slowly. "If something goes wrong, let me know and I'll try to help."

"Aren't you going to ask if I'm doing something illegal?" she teased.

"No," and he answered with a crooked grin.  "I'm sure I don't want to ask."

A quick conversation in Portuguese brought a promise from Tomas to roust the lurker in five minutes.  With a last wave Jared headed off to play the quintessential tourist, camera and all.  He had time to snap a few photos of the brick consulate and shake his head at the lack of proper maintenance on the security systems before the call paid off.

He kept pointing and shooting the camera as uniformed guards swarmed out the front door and around the man he'd mentioned to Tomas, making sure to get both a frontal and a side shot of his target.  Some of the pictures of the Brazilian security hauling off the trench-coated Swede made a wonderful composition, he decided thoughtfully.  An aesthetically pleasing contrast in the coloring, and the whole impression of a pack of smaller hounds hauling down their larger prey.... Yeah, the last picture had potential.

Kyra waved at the immortal's back as security hustled him away, threatening him the entire time.  Jared sauntered up from behind her, saying thoughtfully, "You know something?  The man really doesn't like you.  I didn't think people used phrases like that any more.  Did you really swim after troopships?"

"In the Persian Gulf?  Are you kidding?  They like blonds over there, Jared."  The tall blond woman looped her arm through his.  "Let's drop off the film at your office and get dinner.  All of a sudden I'm hungry."

"Oh, come on, Kyra, you can manage a better distraction than that," he pointed out.  "Should he have known your name?"

"Who knows?" she shrugged.  "Besides, why worry now?  I'll worry when we check the pictures against Interpol records.  For now, I'm hungry.  I was so busy following him I missed lunch."

"Ah, your most dangerous weapon," the Interpol agent mused.  "Partial truth.  What the hell, Kyra, let's go eat.  I'll trick it out of you later."

That drew a flashing grin and she ran a free hand through blond hair, cheeks pink with laughter and the cool November air of Washington.  "I've got five dollars that says you don't!"

* * * *

Gina actually studied the painting, for once, instead of simply admiring it, trying to see the details that Duncan was writing down for the appraisal documentation.  The Highlander finished his notes and asked over his shoulder.  "Who gave you this one, Gina?  It wasn't here the last time I visited."

"A wedding present from Constantine.  I love the Romans, such sensualists," she said dreamily.

That brought a knowing smile.  "How much history do you and Marcus have, Gina?"

"Oh, nothing like that, Duncan.  But their art, the works they commissioned from Michealangelo, from Cellini, from Rafael -- exquisite.  Not at all afraid of love of God or man."

The Scot put his clipboard down, a rueful smile escaping.  "I'm amazed you've held off this long," he said in resignation.  "Do I get something to drink with this interrogation?"

"Duncan!  It is not an interrogation," she answered indignantly.  "We have been friends for more than three centuries; surely an old friend can be worried about the state of your heart."

"The last time you and I dealt with 'affairs of the heart,' Adam nearly lost his head," Duncan pointed out wryly.  "He hasn't entirely forgiven any of us for that."

"But I didn't know he and Robert had staged the entire thing like some play!"

"Gina, you nearly took his head!  Of course you made Adam nervous!"

"I think I still make him nervous, and I can't imagine why.  I told him that there were no hard feelings, that I owed him a 'thank you' instead!"  Gina paused in indignation, then added, "I even sent him three cases of his favorite beer as an apology!"

"Is that where the 'housewarming party' came from?" Duncan asked, laughing despite himself.  "For an impoverished grad student, that was pretty good."

"He invited us, but we were still on our honeymoon in Greece," she admitted.  "Besides, I could not imagine a party to celebrate having an apartment back."

"We blasted rock and roll until the neighbors protested, then invited them in and gave them some beer," Duncan laughed.  "I met half of the Université's Antiquities department, I think.  Free beer will do that."

"Then I will send him some more so that you can meet the other half," Gina answered.  "But how did you two finally end up together?"

The Scot sighed, seeing she wasn't going to be distracted, then her wording caught his attention.  "How long have you known he was interested?"

"Since I saw you two together, of course."  Her tone of voice made it clear Duncan was an idiot to have missed it for so long.  "What happened?"

"Aidan," Duncan sighed.  "Aidan happened.  That woman is dangerous, Gina.  If she had known you and Robert were having trouble, you'd have ended up 'locked' in a bed and breakfast with no phone, no car, and no electricity, but plenty of chocolates, wine, and clean sheets."

Gina laughed at the image, but had to admit that Sidra might just do something like that.  "Mmm-hmm.  So where was this four-star prison?"

"No, she didn't do that to us," Duncan admitted, face getting a little red.

"Then what happened, Duncan?  I was afraid he would never tell you anything!"  She couldn't quite make out the mumbled answer to that, but she hadn't known Duncan could get quite so red.

"Duncan?"

"He didn't," the Scot gave up and answered, not quite looking at her.  "I did."

Gina quit pretending to study the picture and stared at him.  "You did?" she squeaked.

Duncan managed to laugh, even blushing.  "I didn't know your voice would go that high."

"I didn't know you could turn so red," she retorted.  "You told him?  I didn't think you even realized you loved him so much.  He certainly didn't think you did."

"Well, not that way, I didn't -- wait!  You talked to Adam about this?"

"We had to talk about something while we were waiting for you and Robert to get to the barge," she answered hotly.  "It was that or fight, and he had apologized so well, and been so indignant that you talked him into that little charade."

"Hey, he insisted on getting the barge for helping!" Duncan protested hotly.  "What do you mean, talked him into it?"

"I think the barge is not all he got," Gina smiled wickedly.  "But you are happy?"

"As long as I let him sleep late and get two cups of coffee before I say 'good morning'," came the rueful answer.  "A morning person he isn't."

"If that is your idea of waking him up, you have forgotten a great deal from your earlier days."  At his scandalized look, Gina laughed and said, "Fitz used to tell me the most amazing stories after two bottles of wine."

"Oh, I bet it took three," Duncan laughed, giving up on the fake indignation.  "And I think I'll keep my morning wake-up tactics to myself, thanks."

"Oh, come, Duncan, there might be something I could use with Robert."

"If we tried some of the things you and Robert have done, we'd end up with sheets down the stairs, swords in the balconies, and chocolate in Aidan's hair," Duncan replied indignantly.  "Not to mention stripping your garden of jasmine and freesia."

"Speaking of Aidan?  How did either of you get her into a bed, much less both of you?"

"That was a friend of mine you haven't met, Joe Dawson.  He yelled at her for being stupid until she listened."

"Someone called her stupid and he still has his head?  Of course, he was right," she added in an irate voice.  "I had been telling her the same thing for ages."

"She was leaving Robert for you," Mac suggested cheerfully.  "And he's not one of us, Gina.  He's a mortal friend of mine, my Watcher."

"Ah, the one you told us about?  When do I meet this friend of yours?  And you are not distracting me, Duncan MacLeod, I want to hear about this.  All these years and Aidan has never taken immortal lovers, and a mortal scolds her until she relents?"

"Did Haresh Clay really offer to make her a sultana?"

"He did, but he was already married at the time," came Gina's absentminded reply.  "Quit dodging, Duncan."

"Gina, take it up with Aidan.  That's as much as I'm going to tell you."

"But Duncan," she wheedled.  "You were involved, you can tell me."

The Italian pout should have worked, but three centuries had, Duncan reflected, finally given him a partial immunity.  Thank God.  "No, Gina.  I wasn't the one, it isn't my story, and I'm not telling you."

"She went to bed with Adam first?"

"No, Gina, get the story from Aidan.  I'm not telling you a thing."

"I could always ask Adam, I suppose...."

Duncan grinned at her.  "And get a three hour discussion on sexual mores among the ancient Etruscans, maybe, but not a straight answer.  Forget it, Gina.  I'm the only one you're going to worm answers out of, and I've told you everything I'm going to tell you."

"Not the most important answer," she said in an unexpectedly serious voice.  "Are you happy, Duncan?"

"Very happy, Gina," he said gently.  "I wouldn't have brought them both here if I didn't want you to know.  And we're very happy.  We'll fight, and squabble over petty things, and say things we don't mean, but so far Aidan's patched up one fight between me and him, and I've patched up one between them, and she and I have gotten through a couple arguments without too much outside help or blood drawn.  I think we'll be all right."

"All three of you are always welcome here," she said firmly.  "And if all of you get into a fight, then Robert and I will come patch it up for you."

Duncan shuddered at the thought and hastily controlled it, answering the intent behind her words and not the offer.  "Thank you, Gina.  That's a kind offer, but dangerous.  Aidan's awfully fast with a saber."

"She's a woman, Duncan, I can talk to her.  Don't worry so.  Have you told Connor yet?"  She paused, trying to imagine the older Highlander's reactions, then smiled wickedly remembering some of his escapades Fitz and Damien had mentioned to her.

"Not yet.  We'll tell him at Christmas.  I don't think....  It should be all right."

"Then we will come to the Christmas party and make sure of it," she said firmly.  "It will be fine, Duncan."

* * * *

Aidan sighed contentedly as two sets of hands rubbed out her back.  "Not, mind you, that I'm complaining, gentlemen, but to what do I owe this unexpected pampering?"

Duncan chuckled and answered, "Softening you up."

Methos swatted her on the ass when she tensed up and growled, "Quit that!  I am not going to start over just because you can't recognize Highland humor.  You're the Celt, you figure it out."

"Softening me up for what, Duncan?"

He leaned in and spoke just close enough to her ear that the warm breath was a tease.  "Pay up."

That took a moment to register and then she groaned.  "Oh, no!  She didn't.  Please tell me you're joking."

"So Gina's curiosity finally beat out her manners?" Methos asked in interest.  "Hmm.  Did she mention playing marriage counselor for us?"

Now Duncan stared at his male lover, hands pausing on Aidan's waist.  "How did you know that?  You were on the other side of the house, I thought."

Methos chuckled and said pleasantly, "Pay up, Edana, you lost both bets."

Italian maledictions on Gina's ancestry, personality traits, and timing streamed out from under Aidan's hair, which had ended up draped over her face in one of Duncan's jokes.  It had to go somewhere else while he worked on her back, or so he claimed.

"You don't get out of it that easily," Methos insisted.  "Pay up."

"I can't pay up just this moment," Aidan growled.  "My harp is in Seacouver, remember?"

"There's a flute downstairs that I'm sure Robert would be perfectly happy to let you borrow.  But you bet me an evening's serenade and picnic and I expect you to pay it off tomorrow.  Pack food for three if you want to eat, otherwise for two."

"I did not bet that for two," she complained, then spoiled it by purring as a muscle loosened under their careful attentions.

Duncan assumed his best hurt look and griped, "I wouldn't dream of interfering in a friendship this old, or making you cook for one more person.  I'll just go tinker with the Daimler in the garage, I've been wanting to catch up on gossip with Christophe...."

Methos leaned on Aidan's shoulder as she tried to twist around to apologize to Duncan.  "No, stay there.  But you'd better say something quickly or I'm going to have to patch you two up."  Rather thoughtfully he added, "Take that as you will."

"Just because Gina couldn't wait one more day to ask you about the three of us!  I thought she had better manners than that," Aidan groaned.  "And of course you're invited, Dhonnchaidh, I'm just whinging, gradhach."

"What is it Joe says?"  Methos asked rhetorically, eyes dancing as he watched Duncan milk this for all it was worth.  "Gripe, gripe, gripe, woman.  I think that's the phrase."

"No, I'm not going to intrude where I'm not wanted," the Highlander sulked.  "I'll just go sleep on the short, lumpy couch in the sitting room so that I'll properly appreciate my hot bath with bath servant... if I ever get it, that is."

Aidan squawked in sheer indignation.  "When have I ever failed to pay off a bet, Dhonnchaidh?!  Methos, let me up, you wretch!"  She caught Duncan around the shoulders before he could get entirely off the bed and pulled him back down into a full body hug, using arms and legs both to catch him.

Duncan burst out laughing and hugged her back, then yanked Methos into the pile.  The older immortal chuckled, and spent a few seconds trying not to squash either of them.  When he could speak, Duncan pointed out, "I don't win them often enough to be able to say, Aidan."

"Oh, next you'll be saying my word's no good, MacLeod?"  Her voice sounded thoroughly offended, but they could both feel her still giggling where she lay between and partially under them.

The Scot tugged on her hair.  "Don't go twisting my words, wench.  Tha's nah wha' I said, and weel enow yew know it."

"Uh-oh," she muttered, "he's using brogue.  Methos, are you going to protect me?"

"Hmm.  On the one hand, your credit's good.  On the other, you are currently in debt to me....  Decisions, decisions...."  Almost absently the oldest immortal ran one hand along the gold waist chain that was currently her only clothing.  "I suppose you're good for it, though."

"One of you kiss me and I'll show you what I'm good for," Aidan offered dreamily.  "Otherwise, I'll just have to plan menus all night, I suppose.  Let's see, scones with cream and jam, roast chicken, Waldorf salad since the cook was complaining about needing to use up the apples, lettuce soup for the same reason, a selection of cold ales...."

Duncan pushed up on one elbow to look over Aidan's body at Methos.  "Do we let her talk or do we kiss her?  I have to admit, the menu sounds pretty good."

"I haven't heard the song list yet," the paler man mused.  "Shall we let her use her mouth for words for a little while yet?"

"Some cheese for afterwards.  Something sharp, I think...."

"She didn't specify where we should kiss her," Duncan pointed out.

"O'Carolan's Farewell to Music, Bach's Polonaise, Mozart's Adagio -- " Aidan broke off what she was saying rather abruptly as two warm mouths caught her attention, Duncan nipping at her collarbone and Methos rolling her waist chain between his tongue and her skin.  "Oh, Gods," she muttered, "I'll figure it out tomorrow."

"That will do nicely," Methos muttered, and turned off the light.
 
 

~ ~ ~ Finis, 6/98 ~ ~ ~

Comments, Commentary, and Miscellanea:

1) Gareth Beaumains, Gareth Fairhands, was Arthur's nephew, bedeviled in his younger days by Sir Kay, knighted by Sir Lancelot, and....  Wait, why am I telling you this?  You're not reading Highlander because you have no interest in fantasy or stories involving swordfights!  Never mind.

2) Anyone remember Grayson's blade in 'Band of Brothers'?  That's a flamberge, so named for the stylized flame shape of the blade.  A thoroughly nasty weapon, designed to cause maximum damage both going in and coming back out.

3) Said it before, saying it again:  Marcus Constantine is patrolling the river Denial, grousing about the sand and the heat in the prerogative of all old infantry everywhere.  I'm ignoring Zealot.  However, he did campaign against the Celts and trained at least one Celtic student:  Ceirdwyn.

4) Yes, I promise, I will write about Connor's Christmas party, honest.  Amazingly enough, the story should even be out in December.  (See Crystalline Patterns.)

5) Martial was a Roman satirist possessed of a deadly wit, a black sense of irony, and a razor-edged stylus.  I recommend him highly.

6) Aidan tried to convince Mac to quit fighting the mutual attraction and make a pass at Methos in the story 'First Harvests.'

7) The near arrest took place in 'When First We Practice.'

8) Speculum is the professional journal of medieval historians.

9) Every now and then Mac undoubtedly prefers to choose presents for Amanda rather than have her present him with the receipts and his 'borrowed' credit card.  But how many men remember women's sizes other than holding the hands apart and saying, "Oh, about this big around...."

10) Everyone does remember Bugs Bunny's famous Acme boxes of candy, right?  Hopefully?

11) Oghma was the Celtic god of eloquence, attributed with inventing the linear alphabet, Ogham.  Brigid or Brighid was the Celtic goddess of arcane lore and poetry, whose priestesses specialized in divination and prophecy.  She was also associated with healing and fertility, an appropriate intercedent for two men who wanted to get some from Aidan that night!  Goibhnu was the Irish patron of blacksmiths.

12) Faye Dunaway as Milady DeWinter.  Ah, the 1974 Michael York Three Musketeers.  If you haven't seen it, go hit your nearest video store.  Wow!

13) Slainté is the traditional Gaelic toast meaning 'Cheers' or 'To your health'.

14) Yes, Cicero is largely responsible for Victorian morals and behavior.  He wrote some dry as dust treatises on proper behavior in his later days and unfortunately, Cicero is one of the main authors studied for Classical Latin.  Since proper young gentlemen in those days read Latin....

15) Victoria wasn't the brightest English monarch, but she knew that and tried to compensate.  According to some of the excerpts from her diary (the ones I've seen anyway) the part she really hated was being compared to Elizabeth I, who was an exceptional scholar.

16) 'bete noire' is literally 'black beast'.  It's generally a habit or trait which is disliked or to be avoided, usually because it gets you into trouble.

17) Aidan had three husbands and two wives, and helped raise a dozen of their kids, in Armenia sometime in the 11th century.  She hasn't told Joe a date, so I'm not taking full responsibility.  The entire story is in 'Quarrels of All Kinds.'

18) The police in Gilbert & Sullivan's Pirates of Penzance  sing a line about 'With catlike tread' while shaking the stage with their steps.  Wonderfully funny.

19) Terrence Coventry, Carolyn Marsh, and the novel Blade of the MacLeods were in 'Dramatic License'.

20) Brer Fox (short for Brother) and Brer Rabbit are from old Southern folk stories.  Brer Rabbit laired under the briar patch and anytime he got in trouble, rather than endure whatever punishment was in the offing, he'd whine not to be thrown in the briar patch.  Anyone else would have been worried about thorns, so it took them a while to figure out what was going on.  (Now, Brer Rabbit may also be associated with the west African trickster, Hare.  Who knows?  Not I.)

21)  To the Celts, Samhain (Halloween) was the beginning of the New Year, a time to remember their dead and placate the wandering spirits when the curtain between the worlds was thinnest.

22) Carmel's stories have informed me that 'gradhach' is Gaelic for 'beloved' and if you haven't read them, they can be found here.  Great stories over there!  (I have since learned that it means 'loving one'; luadh/luadhe [m/f] is what my Scottish dictionary lists for beloved.)

23) Yes, Amanda LeFauve is one of Amanda's aliases, or so the Watcher CD informs me.

24) 'Carissima mia' = 'my dearest'; 'bella mia' = 'my beautiful one'

25) The deflowering comments are a joke running back and forth between Methos and Duncan from their first night as lovers.  (Well, in my stories, at least.  Prelude to the Storm, if you want to know.)

26) Cannoli is a wonderfully sinful Italian dessert consisting of ricotta cheese, vanilla, sugar and chocolate chips stuffed into a baked pastry roll and covered with powdered sugar.  Yes, there really is a Pepino's in one of the small Maryland towns north of DC, and it's as good as Kyra says, but I can't remember where.  Oh, I wish I could!  And Kyra appeared in the sixth season episode, 'Patient No. 7'.

27) Sorry, folks, I'm re-reading Musashi, not Sun Tzu, but the concept that intelligence is the cornerstone of a successful battle strategy is his, if not the precise wording.

28) Whinging is a good Irish verb meaning whining, complaining and generally making a sulky nuisance of yourself.

Go back to When First We Practice
Go back to The Gathering Darkness, Pt. 1
Go look for Explanations.

All weather reports or spare flashlights should go to Rhiannon.
Cy-lum sticks have been passed out to   visitors since 6/24/01.  Originally posted 10/14/98.
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