Title: One Night Love Affair

Author: Susan

Rating: Strong R, possibly NC-17 later in the story.

Characters: Amanda, Methos, and Joe. Mere mentions of Duncan.

Summary: Amanda arrives in Paris sans the Highlander. She’s bored. Joe pours the drinks. Methos shows up.

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Not Amanda, not Joe, and regretfully not Methos. While we’re on the subject, I don’t own ‘One Night Love Affair’ by Bryan Adams, whose title was the inspiration for this humble tale.

Spoilers: Set post-TB/NTB and Endgame (Director’s Cut—Kate lives!!! <EG>)

Feedback: I crave all feedback. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.

Thanks to JoLayne and Dea for the comments! You gals rawk!!

~~~~~

Le Blues Bar—

An ordinary winter day in Paris was being shared by two rather extraordinary people. The beautiful and unusually long lived woman draped elegantly on a tall barstool watched the salt and pepper haired man across the bar reading his daily newspaper. Several times, she shifted and sighed in a vain attempt to divert his attention from his activity. With each failed attempt, her sighs grew increasingly louder.

“I’m bored.” Amanda rested her elbows on the shiny wood bar. “B-o-r-e-d, bored.”

Joe, being well aware of her dramatic nature, didn’t bother looking up from his newspaper. “Bored? You just got here, Amanda.”

“Entertain me,” she commanded. “I’m your guest, and guests must be entertained.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve gotta business to run.”

Amanda slapped the palm of her hand down on the newspaper spread across the bar. “Really? Looks like you’re reading to me.”

“And you’d be right,” Joe moved her hand away. “The lunch rush finally cleared out a while ago, and now I’m relaxing before the dinner crowd invades.”

“I get the distinct impression you’re not thrilled to see me,” Amanda pouted. “I came all the way to Paris to see you.”

Joe laughed heartily. “Uh, I’m not buying that.”

“Buying what?”

“That you came all the way to Paris to see me.”

“But I did!”

“Right, Amanda.” Joe folded up his paper and shoved it under the bar since reading it was proving to be impossible with Amanda nearby. “Flattered, but still not buying it.”

“Joe—“

He held up his hand and smiled. “Spill it, Amanda.”

“Fine,” Amanda twisted on the barstool. “I’m lonely.”

“And you came to Paris to see me?” Joe reached under the bar and pulled out a glass and a bottle of wine. He poured a glass and handed it to her. “More like you’re here to see a certain Highlander?”

“Yes, well, I showed up at his barge for a visit,” Amanda relayed, “only to be greeted by his ‘wife’.”

“Oh,” Joe grimaced. “You didn’t know?”

“Could have knocked me over with a feather,” she admitted. “Needless to say, the situation was a teensy bit awkward.”

“I’d imagine so,” Joe replied. “Everyone still has their heads?”

Amanda glared at him. “Of course, Joe.”

“Just asking, Amanda.”

“It’s not like Duncan and I have, had an exclusive relationship, after all.” Amanda swirled the wine around in the glass. “Just have to revise my plans.”

“Very mature of you, Amanda.” Joe realized how condescending that sounded and immediately tried to yank his foot out of his mouth. “What I mean was—“

“Shut up, Joe.”

“Seriously, though, I’m proud of you, Amanda.” Joe smiled.

Amanda smiled back. “You should’ve seen Duncan’s face when he came out of the bathroom and saw me talking to Kate.”

“Must’ve scared the hell out of him.” Joe wished he’d been a fly on the wall for that encounter. He surmised the usually courageous MacLeod had felt a bit out of sorts seeing his ex-lover and present wife face to face. “You didn’t happen to take a picture, did you?”

“Oh, I’ve never seen someone turn so white in all my life, Joe,” Amanda laughed. “The man just knew I’d lose it or something, but I showed him a thing or two. I was so nice to Kate, it almost killed me. Duncan does need to find out the world doesn’t revolve around him.”

“It doesn’t?” Joe smirked.

“No, it revolves around me,” Amanda grinned broadly, “hadn’t you heard?”

“Guess I missed the memo on that.”

“Anyhoo, enough about Duncan,” Amanda changed the subject. “What’s new with you?”

“Same old, same old,” Joe shrugged. “Running this place and running after Mac.”

”Sounds,” Amanda paused for effect, “fun.”

“Not really, but it keeps me busy.”

Amanda nodded and pushed her wineglass towards him. “Anyone interesting in town?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Joe filled her glass. “Define interesting.”

“You’re certainly vague today,” Amanda groaned. Her eyes widened slightly and her head turned toward the door expectantly. “We’ve got company.”

Joe looked to the door. “Probably just Mac.”

“I don’t think so,” Amanda gave him an evil glance. “He knows I was coming here. If I know him, he’s probably going to avoid me for a bit.”

”He wouldn’t do that,” Joe argued.

“Sure, Joe.”

A blast of cold winter air poured in as the door swung open. The new arrival hurried into the warmth of the bar. “Blimey! It’s bloody cold out there.”

Amanda perked up when she recognized the pleasantly accented voice. Methos. Finally, things were getting exciting. She watched with interest as Methos rubbed his gloved hands together as he approached the bar.

“Amanda. Joe.” He nodded to them in quick succession.

“Ya want a beer?” Joe asked unnecessarily as he reached for a mug and filled it with ale.

“Dumb question, Dawson.” Methos’ backpack landed on the bar with a heavy thud. Soon his coat was shed and it rested on a nearby stool. “Is the Pope Catholic?”

Joe slid the mug into Methos’ eagerly waiting hand. “Har, har. Thousands of comedians out of work, and you try to be funny.”

“It’s a gift, really.” He sank onto a barstool and gulped the beer. Once the mug was drained, he sighed. “Gods, I needed that.”

“Long day?” Amanda chimed in.

Methos sat the glass down and nodded towards Joe for a refill. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

“Run into a challenge?” Joe refilled the glass.

“Worse.” Methos accepted the mug gratefully and proceeded to sprawl deeper on the stool. “Much worse.”

“Worse than a challenge?” Joe was perplexed.

Amanda bounced on her stool excitedly. “Oh, oh, the Watchers finally put two and two together and got Methos?”

“Now look whose being the comedian,” Methos glared in Amanda’s direction. “I’m still perpetual grad student, Adam Pierson.”

“You really should pick more interesting aliases, darling.”

“Unlike those who will remain nameless, I prefer to live low profile. That would be the reason the Watchers have yet to peg me as Methos.”

“Yeah, well, I suppose the boring life works well for you.”

“Talk to me about excitement in few hundred years, Amanda.”

“Whatever,” Amanda groaned. “Older, wiser, blah, blah, blah.”

“So what’s worse than a challenge or your unmasking as the ‘World’s Oldest Immortal’” Joe broke into their banter.

“A classroom full of first year university students,” Methos informed them with a look of utter contempt.

“Ah,” Joe chuckled. “Teaching eager young minds getting to you?”

“Humpf.” Methos rolled his eyes. “Eager, young minds, my arse. Their parents pay exorbitant amounts of money for their educations, and they sit there like dumb oxen.”

“My, my, don’t you sound like an old fogey,” Amanda said.

Methos shook his head. “I’d watch who you’re calling old, missie.”

“You’re older than me, darling.”

“I’m older than everyone.”

Joe listened to them continue to bait and tease each other. He nearly spit out his mouthful of beer when Amanda stuck out her tongue at Methos, who merely quirked his eyebrow and continued drinking his beer. Joe decided that Methos’ arrival might mean the end of Amanda’s boredom.

“Big plans for tonight, Methos?” Joe rested his elbows on the counter; his agile mind already formulating a scheme.

The old man needed a night out with Amanda to liven up his less than exciting existence. In Joe’s considered opinion, Methos had been hanging out in the bar entirely too much recently. Not that he minded the old immortal’s company, quite the contrary, but perhaps Methos needed to expand his horizons a bit.

“Not unless you consider wading through a stack of mediocre term papers big plans.”

“You live an exciting life, old man,” Joe teased. “I’m jealous.”

“You should talk,” Methos retorted. “At least I do get out of this bar on occasion.”

Joe’s shoulders shook with mirth. “You don’t want to argue that, do you?”

Amanda had been sipping her wine quietly after the verbal sparring with Methos. The clock, discreetly tucked behind the bar, read five o’clock. Her stomach growled loudly, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten lunch and the dinner hour was fast approaching. After all, she had thought that by now, she and Duncan would be on their way out to an outrageously expensive dinner.

“I’m hungry,” she announced. The men had begun talking about their less than exhilarating social lives and were no longer paying attention to her. She cleared her throat. “I said I’m hungry.”

Methos shoved a small bowl of pretzels in her direction. “Knock yourself out, Amanda.”

“Not quite what I meant, Methos.” She shoved the bowl back at him. “I want to go out to eat.”

“There’s the door, luv.” Methos grinned and pointed to the door. “Don’t forget your coat; it’s a tad bit nippy out.”

Amanda rolled her eyes. Men were so dense at times. “I don’t want to go by myself.”

“Methos will go with you,” Joe volunteered boldly. “He’s free tonight.”

“I will?” Methos blinked widely at Joe. “I am?”

“Sure,” Joe enjoyed seeing the look of pure shock on Methos’ face. Methos wasn’t the only expert at irritating people. “You said you didn’t have any plans.”

“But—“

“Come on, Methos. We’d have fun, I promise.” Amanda clapped her hands excitedly. A night out on the town with him would be entertaining. “I’ll buy.”

Methos shook his head. “Nope.”

“Why not?” Amanda looked genuinely puzzled at his refusal.

“Because I said no,” Methos stated firmly. “Joe serves dinner here. Order something.”

“Bar food isn’t what I had in mind,” Amanda said. “No offense, Joe.”

Joe decided that the tag team approach with Methos was more effective than one on one. “None taken. It’s still early; if you hurry you can beat the rush.”

“What can it hurt, hmm?” Amanda put on her most winning smile. “Please.”

“Really, Amanda, if you need a date, shouldn’t you call MacLeod?” Methos quipped, but the glare that Amanda sent his way wiped the smirk off his face. “Oops. Forgot about MacLeod’s newly acquired wife.”

“I will forgive you for that gigantic flub,” Amanda said graciously to which Methos looked relieved, “only if you come to dinner with me. It’ll be fun.”

Methos looked to Joe for help, but he only smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Fine. You won’t stop whining til I do.”

“Good.” Amanda bounced off the stool. “Grab your coat, and get a move on. I’m starving.”

“You kids have a good time,” Joe intoned as Methos shrugged back into his coat. “Don’t stay out too late.”

“We won’t,” Methos grabbed his backpack. “Gee, Dad, can I borrow the car?”

“No dice, junior,” Joe snickered. “I know what a lead foot you have, buddy.”

”Aren’t you going to warm up the car for me?” Amanda pouted as she followed Methos to the door.

“Who said we’re taking my car?” Methos jerked his head from Joe to Amanda. “Your idea, your car.”

“I took a taxi here.”

Methos mumbling idle threats under his breath as he pulled his keys out of his coat pocket did nothing to dampen Amanda’s good mood as she waved jauntily to Joe as they left. “See ya later, Joe.”

Joe shook his head and laughed as he watched the immortals leave. If he was a betting man, and he was, he’d put his life savings on something very interesting happening between those two tonight. Amanda, free of her involvement with Duncan, and Methos, still unattached after Alexa’s death, were a combination sure to prove interesting.

~~~~~

“So where to?” Methos started the car and shifted into drive. He waited while the traffic cleared then eased his truck out onto the street. “Amanda?”

Amanda inspected him and finally answered with a frown. “To your flat.”

“I beg your pardon?” Her thorough appraisal made him feel a little bit nervous. Unlike most people, Amanda could still freak him out.

“I want to go somewhere nice,” Amanda informed him, “and for that to happen, you need to change your clothes.”

“What I have on is perfectly fine,” Methos said affronted.

“Perfect if we were going to a keg party.” The disdainful look she gave his sweater and jeans settled the matter in her mind. “You show up to work dressed like that?”

“I dress how I want,” Methos cast a glance at Amanda. As always, she was dressed fit to kill. “Not all of us dress like we’re meeting the Queen.”

“Hey, it's happened, and I have much better fashion sense than any of them.”

“Woe to the Crown Jewels and Scotland Yard if you and Her Majesty are ever in the same room.”

“Be nice, Methos.”

“Whatever.” He took his right hand off the wheel long enough to turn down the heater and turn up the radio. “Warm enough?”

Amanda nodded. She watched Methos out of the corner of her eye. His fingers tapped on the steering wheel along to the music. Every once in a while she’d hear him humming along, but other than that he was silent the rest of the ride to his flat. She opened her mouth to say something, but it felt wrong to intrude on the comfortable silence that had settled over them.

“Well, here we are,” Methos announced as he pulled his Rover into his allotted parking space and opened the driver’s side door. Amanda didn’t make a move to get out of the car. “You’re coming in, aren’t you?”

“Should I?”

“Unless you want to sit out here and freeze while I shower and change.”

Amanda opened her door and stepped out. “Lead the way.”

Methos hurried up the flight of stairs to his flat with Amanda following close behind. “It’s so sodding cold. Are you sure you don’t want to just order something in?”

“Totally sure,” Amanda said through chattering teeth. “I feel like celebrating.”

“Celebrating what?” He slid the key into the lock and pushed the door open. “It’s not a holiday.”

“Nothing, everything,” Amanda replied. “It doesn’t have to be a holiday to celebrate.”

“You are a very strange woman,” Methos swept his arm out in a gentlemanly gesture to allow her passage into the flat.

“I prefer unique, thank you very much.” Amanda hurried out of the cold into his nice toasty dwelling. She looked around. “You’ve redecorated.”

Methos just smiled. “Nah, just rotating my stuff around.”

Amanda took her coat and tossed it on the sofa. “You must have tons of stuff.” She sidled around the open area casually cataloging the various objects de arte.

“Warehouses full.” He tossed his own coat on his bed as he toed off his boots and walked into the bathroom. Realizing she was probably making a mental tally, he added, “Look to your heart’s content, Amanda, but I don’t share.”

Amanda rolled her eyes. Surely, he didn’t think she’d steal from him. They were friends for heavens sake. “You don’t have anything I’d want to take.”

“Yeah, right,” Methos’ voice muffled through the bathroom door. “Have a drink.”

She didn’t bother looking in the fridge, all he’d have in there was beer. Wine was more her style. She rummaged around his pantry, but she had no luck finding anything acceptable. She opened the fridge and as she expected, it was fully stocked with several different brands of his favorite brews and very little else. A few Chinese take out cartons and a half loaf of bread were the only other items in the appliance.

Reluctantly, she snagged a bottle and sipped the cold liquid. “You are so predictable, my friend.”

The sounds of water running assured Amanda that Methos was still occupied. As she wandered around his flat, she noticed several framed candid shots of his whirlwind trip with Alexa. To the best of her recollection, he hadn’t been involved with anyone since her death.

“I see you found something to drink.”

Amanda turned to see Methos, wearing only a pair of boxers, standing in the doorway, toweling off his hair. “Beer,” she grimaced. “Is it all you drink?”

“Mostly,” he padded barefoot across the living room to the kitchen. “I don’t have much company, so I don’t keep much of a selection otherwise.”

“Variety is the spice of life.”

“What I like, I keep,” he snorted as he grabbed a beer. “Bugger anyone who doesn’t like it.”

“Independent much?”

“Always, Amanda, always.” The ping of his beer cap sounded as it traveled in a long arc behind the appliance.

Amanda noticed for the first time that all he was wearing was a pair of boxers. She could only stare as he sauntered back to the living area and sprawled loose-limbed in his throne chair. The man lacked any sense of modesty. She was shocked to find a blush creeping up her cheeks. Methos usually hid his tall, lean body underneath those baggy sweaters and worn-out jeans. However, nothing was hiding his well-muscled frame from her eyes now.

You have seen him in his boxers, Amanda, a small voice reminded her.

Yes, but I was too worried about Duncan and that whole mess with Keane to really notice him, she argued back.

He’s quite attractive though, isn’t he?

“Very.”

“Very what?”

“Hungry, I’m very hungry,” Amanda covered her blunder. “Get dressed.”

Methos stood up. “Get buggered, Amanda.”

“Go on,” Amanda ordered. “Wear something nice, mind you.”

“You didn’t pick something out for me?” Methos strolled to his closet and rummaged through it. He held up a pair of slacks and a shirt. “Is this okay?”

“If you’re attending a dog fight,” Amanda shoved him out of the way. “Move over and let me look.” She slid the hangers down the pole. “Don’t you own anything besides sweaters and jeans?” She held up her hand to stop his answer. “That was a rhetorical question. Ah, wait a minute.” Reaching into the depths of the closet, she tugged a couple of hangers free. “Now, this is more like it, Methos.”

Methos peered over her shoulder, not at all liking the sound of triumph in her voice. “What did you find?”

Amanda held out the blue silk dress shirt and black dress pants. “Yes, this will do nicely.”

“Fine.” Methos took the garments from her and tossed them on his bed. His hands rested on hips. “Unless you care for a peep show—“

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Amanda rolled her eyes. “I’ll just wait for you in the living room.”

“Promise you won’t peek?” Methos waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Whatever.” Amanda heard him snicker as she walked away.

~~~~~

Methos snickered as he watched Amanda flounce away. Although Joe had unfairly volunteered him as Amanda’s dinner companion, he found himself looking forward to the evening. Since Duncan had returned to Paris with Kate, he’d seen very little of the other immortal. Truth be told, he didn’t blame him. Spend all day in bed shagging a lovely woman or drinking beer with a smart assed old man, hmmm, not a hard decision to make.

“Did you have any particular place in mind, Amanda?” he called from the bedroom area.

“How about Balaban’s?” Amanda glanced up from the magazine she’d been perusing without thinking and caught a peek of Methos’ bare back. “Or maybe Picard’s?”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” his back still to her. “You’re buying, you pick.”

Sneaking the occasional peek over the top of the magazine, Amanda decided watching him finish dressing was quite a bit more entertaining. The blue silk shirt hung gracefully from his broad shoulders. Expertly, he tucked the tails into his pants after he buttoned his shirt. Her attention shifted back to her magazine when he strolled into join her.

“Ready?” Methos stood in front of her. “Amanda?”

Amanda tossed aside the periodical. “You clean up rather well.”

“Yeah, well, I prefer to blend in,” Methos responded. “Do I meet your approval then?”

“Totally,” she affirmed. “Shall we go?”

~~~~~

“Seriously?” Methos took a sip of his wine.

Amanda grinned back at him. “I kid you not, Adam. There I was hanging from my guideline and the damn bracelet was right there. I could almost touch the blasted thing and the alarm tripped.”

“Not a cat?” Methos referred to the four-legged creature that had almost botched their ultimately unsuccessful attempt to save Alexa with the Methuselah Stone.

“No, worse.” Amanda smiled at the memory. “Seems even an expert thief such as myself can screw up sometimes.”

Methos was intrigued. Amanda, the consummate burglar, screwing up? “What happened?”

“You promise not to tell a soul,” Amanda leaned in and whispered. Methos nodded his head, eager to hear her explanation. “I didn’t secure my line properly and I crashed to the floor, activating the floor sensors.”

“No way,” Methos’ eyes widened at her admission.

Amanda nodded. “Twisted my ankle, and I almost got caught by the security guard. Thankfully, the guard was old and fat. Otherwise, I’d be sitting in a dank, dreary jail cell right about now.”

“Maybe a life free of crime would be safer,” Methos teased. “Honesty being the best policy and all.”

“Been there, done that,” Amanda’s hands waved grandly in the air. “Not much fun, I’ll have you know.”

“And it’s all about the fun, eh?”

She dabbed her lips with her napkin. “Of course. Life is too short not to enjoy it thoroughly.”

Methos laughed heartily at her words. Only Amanda could say that with a straight face. “You do have a point.”

“You agree?”

“Totally,” Methos drained his wineglass. “Remember how old I am, even I feel that way.”

“The world is still exciting to me,” Amanda confessed. “I think I’ve seen it all, but then a sunset or a glimpse of the ocean takes me aback.”

“Admit it, Amanda, it’s the jewels and the finer things in life that keep you here.”

“And then there’s that,” Amanda grinned unashamedly. “It’s who I am.”

“Indeed,” Methos pushed his now empty plate away, “dessert?”

“I shouldn’t,” she sighed and laid her napkin on the table, “but I will.”

Methos gestured for their waiter, who hurried across the crowded restaurant.

“Dessert?” The young man wheeled a small cart decked out with tempting desserts.

“Something rich and decadent,” Amanda pondered over the selection for a minute. “Something chocolate.” She pointed to a piece of cake swathed in chocolate frosting and topped with plump red raspberries. “I’ll take that one!”

The waiter lifted the plate from the cart and placed it front of Amanda. “And you, sir?”

Methos waved him off. “I’ll pass.”

“Come on, Adam, you must have something.” Amanda took a bite of her cake and moaned. “This is fabulous!”

Methos gave the cart a careful once over. He spied a creamy confection drizzled with a caramel sauce. “Fine. I’ll take the crème brulee.”

After the young man left the table, Amanda couldn’t resist teasing Methos. “Crème brulee? Not a manly dessert, if you ask me.”

“Good thing I didn’t ask you then,” Methos dipped his spoon in and took a bite. “It was Alexa’s favorite.”

Amanda looked chagrined. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, Amanda. I’ll never forget the first time she had it,” Methos smiled in remembrance. “The look on her face was priceless. She told me it was like eating a piece of heaven. No matter where we ate, if they had this for dessert, she ordered it. So, I order it when I can to remember her.”

Amanda felt her eyes begin to tear up. The old man’s honest confession meant a lot to her considering he wasn’t the type to open up. “You still miss her.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged his shoulders, “but it’s gotten bearable with time.”

Amanda nodded and continued to eat her cake. Every once in a while, she’d sneak a glance over at Methos. He seemed to be having a good time with her, in spite of his initial protests about coming. She was surprised to find herself enjoying the evening more than she imagined.

~~~~~

“So, what now?” Amanda asked once they were in Methos’ Rover.

Methos turned the key in the ignition. “Let’s see, I drop you at your hotel, then I go home to my nice warm flat.”

“Oh, it’s too early to go home,” she pouted. “We could go dancing or something.”

“Or not.” He weaved in and out of the light traffic. “I have an eight o’clock class to teach in the morning, Amanda.”

“So, play hooky,” Amanda encouraged. “You said they weren’t listening to you anyway.”

Methos stared out the windshield into the dark night for a couple minutes, while Amanda waited expectantly for him to do something, anything. “We could go back to Joe’s and listen to some music.”

“Uh, no,” Amanda said. “Not what I had in mind.”

“Like I said just a minute ago, I have to be up early in the morning,” Methos replied half-heartedly. The more he thought of going home alone, the less he liked it. “Why do I get the impression you’re stalling, Amanda?”

“I’m not stalling.”

“Really?” Methos noticed Amanda was avoiding eye contact with him, a sure sign something was up. “Don’t tell me you’ve got Interpol on your heels or some other pursuer, say of the immortal variety?”

“You’re a pain the ass!”

“So are you,” Methos pulled over to the side of the street. “I’m not going any further unless you tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Fine! I was expecting to spend the night at Duncan’s, but I hardly think he’d entertain the thought of a threesome, Methos.”

Methos chuckled. “You’re probably right about that. I, on the other hand, would certainly be up to the idea. Ow!!” He yelped after Amanda's fist connected solidly with his arm. “What? I’m an open-minded fellow.”

“You’re a pig!”

“Well, well,” Methos’ eyes twinkled mischievously. “I never took you for a prude.”

“I am not a prude.”

“Whatever,” Methos laughed. “Shall I drop you at one of Paris’ finest hotels then?”

“Methos!”

“What?”

“You’re the most dense man I’ve ever met!” Amanda huffed. “I don’t want to be alone tonight, if you get my drift.”

“Oh.”

A tense silence hung over the couple. Very rarely was it possible for the old immortal to be shocked, but Amanda had thoroughly succeeded in doing so. It was fair to say he’d imagined the possibility of sleeping with Amanda on more than one occasion, but her involvement with MacLeod had been an effective deterrent.

Amanda reached across the center console and rested her hand on his arm, which was firmly attached to the steering wheel. “Is that all you’ve got to say?”

“A little caught off guard, is all,” Methos moved his arm as if her touch was scalding him. “Look, I realize you’re probably brassed off at the Highlander, but I’m not looking to have his sword at my neck, Amanda.”

Amanda sat ramrod straight and glared at her companion. “Excuse me, but when did Duncan MacLeod become my owner?”

“As tempting as your offer is, Amanda, I’m going to have to pass.” Methos sighed when he saw her face fall in disappointment. “You and I are friends. Sex generally complicates things between friends, and I don’t need more complications in my life. Besides, I don’t fancy myself a substitute for 400 year old Scots.”

“Is that what you think? That I want to sleep with you because I’m pissed off at Duncan?”

“Pardon me, but, yes, that’s exactly what I think.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Alright, that might be a teeny tiny part of it, but not all of it. You’re a good looking man, you know,” Amanda folded her arms across her chest and gave Methos a confident look. “Let’s go back to your place and have a drink or several. I promise that if I can’t change your mind, I’ll call a taxi and be out of your hair.”

“No deal.”

“What? You’re afraid of little ol’ me?”

“In your dreams.”

Amanda smiled and Methos grimaced. “Good, then I think we have a deal. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m tired of sitting here.” Her smile widened as he continued to frown. “Oh, and if it’s not too much trouble, can you stop at a market on the way back to your place?”

“Only if it’ll get you off my back,” Methos muttered.

“See you’re already thinking evil thoughts,” Amanda leaned over and whispered into his ear. “Now hurry up.”

~~~~~~

Big mistake!

Methos muttered to himself as he waited for Amanda to exit the corner market. All he wanted to do was leave her here and drive off into the night, however, she knew where he lived and he preferred she not show up on his doorstep mad as hell and carrying a nasty sword. His fingertips drummed a nervous rhythm on the dashboard. Finally Amanda appeared in the doorway of the shop wearing a devilish smirk on her pert red lips.

Big, big mistake!

Shoving down the panic, Methos waited for her to get back in the car. The next time he saw Joe, the Watcher was so going to pay for suggesting this little adventure. He had all sorts of fiendish ways to exact revenge.

“Brrrr!” Amanda slammed the door shut behind her. “Why can’t it be warmer?”

“Because it’s Paris, and it’s winter.” Methos eased back onto the road. “Now what was the name of your hotel?”

Amanda shook her finger at him. “Don’t think so, buster. You’re not welshing on our bet. Your place, and step on it.”

“May I remind you that it was your bet and not mine?”

“Whatever.”

Methos stretched his neck to look in the bags Amanda held daintily on her lap. “So what did you buy while you were in there?”

“That doesn’t concern you, at least, not right this moment, anyway.”

“This is foolishness,” Methos pointed out. “Sheer foolishness.”

Amanda grinned. “I’m sure you’ll be changing your tune shortly, mister.”

“I shudder to think.”

“Shuddering, hm?” Amanda quirked an eyebrow. “I can arrange that as well.”

Methos opened his mouth to say something, but clamped it shut. Amanda was in rare form tonight and nothing he could possibly say would put him on the winning side at this point. Realizing that resistance was futile, he swallowed hard and finished the drive home in silence. The only hope he had was that his dignity would remain somewhat intact when this whole affair was over.

“You can still change your mind,” he pulled into his parking space.

“I’m beginning to think you don’t find me very attractive,” Amanda pouted.

“It’s not that, Amanda.”

“What is it, then?” Amanda crossed her arms across her chest. “Perhaps you are the one that’s a prude.”

Methos rolled his eyes and yanked the keys out of the ignition.

Without another word, he exited his car in a flurry of black cloth and muttered curses and disappeared into his building. Amanda’s mouth hung open as she watched his dramatic exit. Something, somewhere had gotten weird. They’d been teasing each other all night and even though he’d made a production of her desire to spend the night with him, she hadn’t felt as if he’d truly been mad at her.

Sighing a deep sigh, Amanda gathered up her bags and followed along behind Methos. She’d get to the bottom of this even if she had to throttle him to do so. The urge to maim him grew once she reached the top of the three flight of stairs she had to climb loaded down with heavy bags. When her polite knocks went unanswered, she gave into her irritation and began kicking the door to get his attention.

“We can do this the hard, loud way,” Amanda yelled as she kicked. “Or you can be an adult and let me in!”

“Sod off!” Methos’ yell was muffled by the door separating them.

“Fine, be that way,” Amanda muttered. “We do this my way then.”

Setting her bags down with a flourish and cracked her knuckles. She began to pound the door with a vengeance and shouting at the top of her lungs. After several loud shrieks and much hammering, Amanda stomped her foot in frustration. Much to her chagrin, Methos was proving to be her match in the stubborn department. However, she wasn’t ready to give up just yet. Slipping her hand into the inside pocket of her coat, she pulled out the tools of her trade.

~~~~~

The racket taking place outside his door was wearing thin on Methos’ nerves. Several times he swallowed the urge to yank the door off its hinges and strangle Amanda. If the stubborn wench thought she was going to out-stubborn him, she was in for a rude awakening. He walked over to the entertainment center and turned up the volume on his CD player and poured himself a drink. Ignoring Amanda’s dramatics, he collapsed onto the sofa with a groan.

He had almost drifted off to sleep when he heard the doorknob rattle and turn. Damn Amanda and her penchant for breaking and entering. Why couldn’t she take a hint?

“So,” Amanda breezed into the flat, “you actually thought that measly little lock would keep me out?”

“I had hoped anyway.”

“You are the most stubborn man I’ve ever known,” she walked into the kitchen and deposited her bags on the counter. “Most men would jump at the chance, you know.”

“I’m not most men, Amanda.” Methos didn’t bother to open his eyes. “Now go away.”

“No, I won’t. You said I could stay here and I plan to, so just quit being such a wet blanket.”

Methos mumbled something and left his comfortable spot on the couch. “Fine. You can take the couch.”

“We’ll argue that point after I finish taking my shower, that is, unless you care to join me.”

The only response he gave her was a muttered “Sod off” as he stalked to his bed and undressed.

~~~~~

Amanda adjusted the temperature of the water and stepped under its pulsating spray. Things were not going as well as she had planned. She never would have dreamed that seducing Methos would prove to be such a challenge. Sure he’d been playing hard to get all evening, but he had started to warm up as the night progressed. At least until Duncan’s name had been mentioned and she had called him a prude, then he stormed off to his flat in a huff.

“Men,” she grumbled as she reached for a bottle of shower gel. “Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.” Lathering the soap over her body, she noticed that it had a light flowery scent. “What the hell?” Methos did not strike her as the type to use such a girly smelling scent. Picking up the bottle she read the label. “Sunflowers?” Her brows furrowed in puzzlement, then it occurred to her just who the shower gel belonged to…Alexa.

Suddenly his reluctance made complete and utter sense. He’d thrown Duncan’s name out as a distraction. Typical Methosian behavior she realized. Alexa was the real reason he’d shied away from her attempts at seduction. She shook her head as she stepped back under the spray to rinse. How could she be so dense? She knew that Methos hadn’t been involved with anyone since his lover’s death and Methos did not strike her as the fall into the sack with just anyone type of guy.

She almost felt bad about badgering him so much, but not quite. Alexa’s death had been ** years ago, and he needed to move on. Toweling off, she determined she was just the person to help him. The key was to approach him in the right manner. Subtlety might prove to be the best method of approach, and she could be subtle if she had to.

“Methos.” The steam billowed out as she opened the bathroom door. “I left my bags at Joe’s. Can I borrow something to sleep in?”

“Top left hand drawer,” the lump under the blankets answered.

Amanda, snugly wrapped in a towel, hurried across the chilly wooden floor. “Thanks.”

She pulled open the drawer and rummaged through it in search of something to wear. After liberating a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, Amanda plopped down on the bed beside Methos. She smiled at the sight of him; the blankets pulled almost over his head with just a bit of his hair poking out. The world’s oldest immortal looked very much like a little boy tucked in for the night.

“I’m sorry,” she pulled back the covers so she could see his face. “Really I am.”

“Sorry for?” he muttered into his pillow. “Or should I even ask?”

“Being such a nag,” Amanda tucked her legs underneath herself. “I tend to come on a bit too strong at times.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed that about you, Amanda,” he snarked as he flipped over onto his back.

“Hey, it's part of my charm,” she smiled at him and was pleased when he returned it. “So, you forgive me?”

“I suppose so.”

“Good,” she did a little bounce on the bed.

“Good night, Amanda.”

“I’m too wired to sleep.”

“Not my problem,” Methos pulled the covers back over his body. “Lay down and count sheep or something.”

“Ok.” Amanda bounced to her feet and pulled the covers back on the opposite side of the bed. “Brilliant idea, darling.”

“And not at all what I meant,” Methos argued as Amanda snuggled up against him. “The sofa is what I had in mind.”

“I’m sure,” Amanda stretched out the length of his body, “but this is much softer, and you’re a lot warmer than that old sofa.”

Methos groaned and rolled on his side away from her. “Go to sleep, Amanda.”

The faint glow of the streetlights outside and the dim light emanating from a lamp in the living room bathed the whole flat in a bluish glow. She’d never been accused of being subtle. Never in her long life had she met so much resistance in seducing a man. Usually all it took was a come hither glance and a not so subtle innuendo, but Methos was proving to immune her charms. As she lay staring at the ceiling, she sighed in frustration and the light snores coming from the man beside her only added to her frustration.

“Methos?” Amanda whispered, but the snores didn’t stop.

Her arm stretched across the minute distance separating them and hovered over his shoulder. The urge to shake him awake was her first impulse, but she decided waking up a sleeping Methos wasn’t the smartest thing to do at this point in time.

~~~~~

“Alexa,” Methos murmured as he pulled the warm, sleeping body closer to him. Not bothering to open his eyes, he buried his nose into her hair and the familiar scent of sunflowers flooded over him. “You smell so good.”

He opened his eyes and lifted his hand to brush the hair away from her neck in order to kiss the soft skin of her throat. Instead of long blond hair, his fingers grazed short raven hair. In a lightening quick reflex, he jerked his hand away and scooted up against the headboard. In his hasty retreat, he nudged the sleeping Amanda out of her oblivious slumber.

”What the hell?” Amanda rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as she propped herself up on an elbow. She immediately noticed that her bedmate had turned an unnatural shade of pale. “What’s the matter?”

Methos flung the blankets off the bed in a flurry of motion. “You need to leave.”

Amanda watched in stunned silence as he practically dashed into the kitchen. The sound of Methos nearly wrenching the refrigerator door of its hinges and the resulting clatter of glass the contents of the door rattling together made her jump. After he grabbed a beer out the appliance, he slammed the door with the same force and sent the metal cap sailing behind the fridge with a loud ping. He leaned against the sink as he chugged the contents of the bottle and sent it sailing in high arc to the trashcan on the opposite of the galley kitchen.

Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, Amanda yawned and stretched. “And go where precisely? It’s three o’clock.”

“A hotel, MacLeod’s, I don’t care.” Rummaging through Amanda’s purchases from earlier in the evening, he liberated a bottle of tequila and twisted off the cap. “Feel free to grab the cab fare out of my wallet.”

“Thanks, but no.” Amanda smiled and remained right where she was. “It’s late, and I am not leaving.”

“Bloody hell!!” He took a long swig of the tequila. “I do not want you here, Amanda.”

“Excuse me? Did I miss something?”

“This is my home, and I say who stays.”

Amanda rolled her eyes as she levered herself off the bed. In the dim light she realized Methos looked more distraught than angry. Even from across the flat, she could tell that he looked like he had seen a ghost.

“No need to go all defensive on me,” she stretched as she walked into the kitchen area. “That’s my tequila, bub.”

“What part of get the hell out did you not understand?” Methos’ grip on the bottle never loosened.

“You didn’t say the magic word.” She hopped up on the kitchen counter and swung her crossed legs idly. “Besides, you said I could stay, and that’s what I intend to do.”

“Fine,” Methos slammed the bottle on the counter causing the liquid to splash out of the container and onto his hand. “I’ll leave.”

Before she could say a word, Methos brushed past her and went in search of his clothes. Totally dumbfounded by his less than flattering reaction, she watched as he pulled on his jeans and shirt. She hopped down and moved to intercept him if he headed for the door.

“Ok, what’s the deal, Methos?” Hands on hips, she tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for his answer. “You are acting like a real son of a bitch.”

“And you, Amanda, are a bitch,” Methos didn’t look up from tying his hiking boots. “Now that we’ve established our sterling character traits, I’ll be on my way.”

“You are a stubborn bastard, aren’t you?”

“I’ve been called worse by better people,” Methos reached for his coat and the sword concealed within its folds. “Goodbye, Amanda.”

“Aw, poor Methos,” she whined sarcastically. “Afraid of little old me. Can’t say that I don’t like that feeling. It’s a shame you’ve decided to take your vows of celibacy. I’m sure Alexa—“

Before she could finish her sentence Methos had crossed the room in astonishing speed. Her eyes went wide as he grabbed her arm and shoved her against the door. The only other time in their friendship she had witnessed such intense emotion from him had been in that abandoned rail yard. His sword had been at her throat and her life had very much hung by a tenuous thread.

“Don’t go there, Amanda,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“I just meant—“

His fingers tightened around her arm and a few tears sprung to her eyes. “I passed caring what you meant about five minutes ago.”

“Let go of me,” she whispered hoping her quiet tone of voice would calm the situation.

Methos leaned in, nose to nose with her. “Are you planning on leaving, then?”

“If that’s what you want.” She breathed a sigh of relief when he released her arm. “Or I can stay and we can talk?”

“You must be joking, Amanda,” Methos ground out. “I have no interest in talking to you.”

“Seems to me like you should talk to somebody.”

Amanda waited long enough to see if he was going to come at her again. Thankfully, he’d headed back to the kitchen and the bottle of tequila. His coat, containing the Ivanhoe, had been tossed recklessly on the sofa. Deciding her head stood a better chance of staying intact if Methos couldn’t reach his weapon, she casually shoved the forgotten garment under the sofa. Despite every survival instinct telling her to run, she took a deep, calming breath and headed into the kitchen.

“Methos—“

“You’re still here?”

“I’ve been told I’m like a dog with a bone,” she paused at the doorway. “Seriously, whatever I said or did, I’m sorry.”

Expecting another threat of violence, Amanda gripped the doorjambs until her knuckles were white. Instead, Methos sat the bottle down gently and turned to face her. Amanda felt her throat constrict when she saw the tears tracking down his face. Without a moment’s hesitation, she hurried across the small area and enfolded him in her arms.

“Sshh, Methos,” she rubbed her hands tenderly down his back. “Whatever it is, it’ll be all right.”

Amanda sighed when she felt him pull her closer. The hot tears dripped from his face and onto her neck.

“I thought you were her,” his words muffled against her shoulder.

Who the ‘her’ was needed no explanation. Alexa. Now all the puzzle pieces were falling into place.

“Oh, darling,” Amanda pulled away so she could see his face. “I’m so sorry.”

Methos wiped his hand across his face to wipe away the traces of his grief. “You smelled like her and—“

“I took a shower earlier,” Amanda explained. “I shouldn’t have used her soap.”

“I should have tossed it away a long time ago,” Methos leaned against the counter, “but I didn’t have the heart.”

“Come on,” Amanda grabbed his hand along with the bottle.

Methos followed Amanda like an obedient puppy into the living room. Amanda pushed him down on the sofa and promptly took the seat next to him. She took a long drink from the bottle and handed it to him. Amanda quirked her eyebrow at him and waited for him to drink. After letting out a long sigh, he tipped the bottle and drained a healthy swallow.

“Now, take a deep breath and talk to me.”

“I don’t want to,” he rested the bottle on his knee.

“Maybe,” she smiled, “but I think you need to.”

“Look, I appreciate your offer, but—“

“No buts, Methos,” Amanda gave him her best ‘I’m an adult, take me serious’ look. “We’re friends, right?” She waited for him to acknowledge her question and after he nodes, she continued. “Good friends talk to each other, so spill it, big boy.”

Methos took another sip and passed it back to Amanda. “Do you have any idea how badly I wanted it to be Alexa? She’s been gone six years, and it still catches me off guard.”

“They never seem to live long enough, do they?”

“I went into it knowing full well that she only had months,” Methos’ rigid posture was a sure sign of his reluctance to share. “She tried to warn me off, but I know I had to be with her no matter how long she had.”

“Joe told me how happy you two were,” Amanda said. “He even showed me some of the pictures you had sent him.”

“Lexa had never been out of the state.” A distant look overtook his eyes. “The world has so much to see. We saw what she had time for, but she got sick before we saw even the tip of the iceberg. I wanted to show her springtime in Japan, and she loved koalas and kangaroos. We were going to do so much.”

“I’m sure she was thrilled seeing the world with you,” Amanda replied. “You must be the world’s best tour guide.”

“I suppose.”

“Do you regret your time with her?”

Methos’ eyes went wide. “Not one single moment, I loved Alexa.”

Amanda moved a bit closer and rested her head on his shoulder. “She was lucky to spend that time with someone who loved her.”

The two of them sat in quiet solitude. The tension from the earlier situation had completely disappeared. The massive mahogany clock nestled in the far corner of the living area chimed the hour. Amanda yawned and stretched.

“Four o’clock, and all is well?” she ventured.

Methos echoed her yawn. “Right as rain.”

“So, do I have to scurry off into cold, dark night in search a humble inn to lay my weary head?”

A deep rumbling chuckle escaped Methos’ lips. “Dramatic much? You can stay.”

“And do I have to sleep on the old hard sofa?” she batted her thick lashes demurely.

“Would it to any good for me to tell you to?”

Her innocent façade curved into a cheshire grin. “Probably not.”

“Well do what you must, but I’m knackered,” Methos stood up and stretched. “Goodnight, Amanda.”

Amanda watched Methos make his way back to his bed discarding his jeans and shirt as he went. She wiped away a stray tear and smiled. Throughout her involvement with Duncan, she had gotten to know the oldest Immortal. They’d hung out at Joe’s or the barge. Methos usually did his best to blend into the background, but Amanda had caught herself observing the old man when he did join in.

In a crowd, people, especially the female population, tended to notice the classically handsome MacLeod. However, if they took the time to really look at the other man, they would notice, like she had, Methos in his own way was just as attractive. In addition to being quite gook looking, Methos also possessed a quick wit and slightly offbeat sense of humor. And it had occurred to her just how many talents he had accumulated over five thousand years.

“Stop it,” she muttered to herself.

“What?”

Realizing she her slip, she rolled her eyes. “Nothing.”

“You have the most peculiar habit of speaking to your self,” he observed as he stepped up and onto his bed, situating the pile of blankets as he made himself comfortable. “Getting a bit senile in your old age?”

Deciding that it was way past her bedtime, she hopped off the sofa and strolled casually to the bed. With less fanfare than before, she lifted the covers and crawled into bed. Instead of scooting up next to Methos, she hugged the edge of the bed. Within a few minutes, she felt her eyes begin to droop. Just before she drifted of to sleep, she felt the mattress shift as Methos turned over on his side.

“Thanks, Amanda.”

Turning over on her side to face him, she whispered, “No problem.” Unable to resist, she leaned in and brushed her lips against his cheek only to have him move just enough that her kiss landed on his lips instead. “Oops.”

“Yeah, oops,” he said before he snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

“Methos?” Amanda couldn’t keep the question out of her voice. “I can sleep on the sofa.”

“There’s plenty of room here, unless you’d rather sleep there.”

“But I thought you weren’t interested,” she said. “I totally understand that now.”

“Well, as a good friend pointed out I am the most stubborn man she’s ever met.”

“Smart girl, this friend of yours,” the smile on her face grew. “Is she pretty as well?”

“One of the loveliest ladies I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet.” The dim light of the loft bathed his face in a bluish glow. “However, she can be quite trying.”

Amanda opened her mouth to protest, but chose to ignore him. Instead she snuggled in close and rested her head in the crook of his arm and listened to the steady rhythm of his heart beating. The pulsing thrum of his Quickening against hers felt tantalizing. She could almost feel the energy crackling along her skin.

Amanda traced his mouth with her fingers. “Are you sure you want to do this, Methos?”

He captured her hand and guided it around his neck. “I haven’t been with anyone since Alexa, Amanda. Perhaps you were right when you tried to point out that Alexa wouldn’t care for me taking up ‘vows of celibacy’ as you so delicately put it.”

Noticing for the first time how perfectly she fit next to his body, Amanda offered up one last opportunity for him to back out. “If this a bad idea, you better stop now, cuz in five minutes I can’t guarantee you I’ll be able to.”

His response consisted of a long, passionate kiss as his hands skimmed lightly down her ribcage to rest on her hip. Amanda groaned as she flopped onto her back as Methos slid over and kissed her again. As his kiss deepened, she felt his hands glide under her borrowed shirt and rest below her breast. Once she recovered some semblance of normal respiration, she opened her eyes to find him staring at her as if he were asking permission to continue.

Amanda took his hand in hers and moved it over her heart. “Can you feel it racing?”

“Yes,” Methos affirmed. “A mile a minute, I’d guess.”

“All because of you,” she smiled. “I want you, Methos. Now.”

Her words seemed to please him. Amanda would cherish the look on his face as the reality of what they were about to share sank in. His hazel eyes went wide and then a devilish twinkle made her giggle. He looked like a little boy on Christmas Day.

“Let’s see what I can do to make that happen.” Amanda moved to close the distance between them, but Methos would have no part of that. “Now, be a good girl, ‘manda, and lay back on your pillow.”

Deciding not to argue with millennia of experience, she sank back against the soft mattress. Her eyes closed as his body shifted and came to rest lightly on top of hers. His mouth descended upon hers and once she was gasping for air while he moved down to the tender spot where her neck and shoulder joined causing her to shudder in utter bliss.

“Ah,” she moaned as she pulled his mouth closer to the delicate patch of flesh.

Methos’ tongue lapped the area. “Like?”

“Oh god, yes.”

“I think you have entirely too many clothes on.” He shifted so that he was kneeling on the bed between her splayed legs. When she groaned in protest, he rested his finger on her lips. “Patience is a virtue.”

“You’re evil.”

“Sit up, and I’ll show you how evil I am.”

Amanda matched the grin on his face and did as he requested. His fingers grasped the thin cotton material of her t-shirt and in one lazy motion divested her of the garment. The shirt was discarded in a quick toss. Amanda leaned back on her elbows and let him look to his heart’s content.

“Absolutely beautiful,” he said, “but then I always suspected you would be.”

“You did?” A hint of blush rose on her cheeks. “I mean, I didn’t think you ever noticed.”

“How could I not?”

Methos moved out of his kneeling position and once again pushed her back on the bed. Stopping long enough to caress and fondle each breast with thoroughly, Methos skimmed down her body. Amanda threaded her fingers through his dark hair when his tongue nimbly traced the circle of her navel.

His finger tugged at the waistband of her boxers. “Still too many clothes, Amanda.” She found the strength to push her bottom a fraction off the mattress as he maneuvered the article of clothing off her hips and down her legs until they joined her shirt on the floor. “Much better.”

“Definitely,” she purred.

Crawling back up her body, his lips tempted and teased her most sensitive spots. She giggled when he found her ticklish spot on the arch of her right foot and the back of her left knee. Her giggles faded as his tongue traced up her thigh and to the even more sensitive skin further up. She arched her back and clutched at the sheets as Methos’ mouth made love to her over and over. Words ceased as the primal urges were voiced with whimpers and sighs. Only after Amanda was nearly a boneless mass, did Methos cease his attentions.

He eased along side her and pulled her next to him. She rested her head against his chest as she smiled through a passion soaked haze. She snuggled closer and the evidence of his passion rested solidly against her belly. Thankfully, the feeling had begun to return to her limbs and she could return the favor. Amanda casually turned onto her side facing away from Methos. His hold her didn’t loosen as she did. In fact, once she began to rub her bottom against him, his arms tightened and she felt his whole body stretch out behind her as one of his long legs slid over her.

Amanda reached behind her and massaged his bottom as his hips rocked against her. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Believe it,” Methos moaned into her ear.

Caresses and kisses replaced words as they discovered and tasted new territories. Amanda’s teeth skimmed over Methos, nipping and nibbling every spot she could reach. Methos hand twined in her hair while its mate fondled her bottom. Nudging him, she rolled him onto his back and made an elaborate show of straddling his hips. Indulging in a lazy stretch, she raised her arms above her head and pushed her hair back away from her face. She let her hands roam from her hair and she let them glide down her neck and down to cup her breasts. Methos’ hands circled her waist as she pressed against his groin.

Amanda traced the paisley patterned material of his boxers. “Now, you’re the one with too many clothes.”

“What do you plan to do about it?”

“This.” She made short work of removing the sole article of clothing between them. Satisfied with her handiwork, Amanda reclaimed her position astride her now captivated lover. Lowering herself onto his awaiting erection with agonizing deliberateness, Amanda sighed in contentment as he filled her.

“Gods, woman,” he growled, “stop the torture.”

“Torture?” She raised an eyebrow and studied him. “You have no idea what sorts of torture I’m capable of. I’ll have you know I belonged to some of the most sought harems in the known world.”

Methos arched up and drove into her. Amanda’s knees squeezed involuntarily as she registered the tidal wave of pleasure coursing up her body. “You don’t have the market cornered on membership to the world’s best brothels.”

Amanda withdrew and sank back down with a vengeance. “I bow to your expertise.”

After experimenting with several rather ambitious and acrobatic positions, Amanda and Methos collapsed in sweat tangle of arms and legs. The cool air against her damp skin sent Amanda shivering. Methos chuckled as he pulled the blankets over their bare bodies.

“Goodnight, Amanda,” he kissed the top of her head.

Amanda nuzzled the divot of his collarbone. “Night.”

~~~~~

Joe tossed the wet rag into the sink and set about straightening the rows of various sized bottles that lined the enormous mirrored bar. Last night had been extraordinarily busy and he had had little time to think of what sorts of mischief Amanda and her reluctant dinner companion had gotten into upon their departure from his establishment. He almost felt sorry for Amanda. Methos probably had set her on the doorstep of one Paris’ most posh hotels with a wave and a swirl of dark cloth.

“What a beautiful day it is,” the immortal thief in question chirped as she swept into the empty bar. “Joseph, be a doll and pour a girl a brandy.”

Joe glanced at his watch. “Isn’t it noon a bit early for brandy?”

“Oh, phish,” Amanda waved off his words. “Since when have I ever followed the rules, eh, Joe?”

“A good point,” Joe sat a glass on the counter and poured her a hefty shot of the requested liquor. “Have a sit and tell me why you’re in such a fine mood.”

Amanda draped her cashmere coat over the end of the bar and perched on the tall stool. “I’m always in a wonderful mood.” She frowned at his raised brow. “Ok, so I was a little down in the mouth yesterday.” His brow climbed higher. “All right, I was in a bit of a mood, but it’s all better now.”

“Mind if I ask the reason for the shift in attitudes?”

Amanda swirled the brandy around in the snifter. “No reason really.”

The watcher suspected she wasn’t being completely truthful, but she was a tough cookie to break. “So how was dinner?”

“Dinner was marvelous,” Amanda replied. “Methos actually bought, and I didn’t have twist his arm. Do you have any change?”

“Huh?” Joe was puzzled by her non-sequitor.

“For the juke box, silly,” she answered. “It’s too quiet in here.”

Joe rummaged in the cash drawer and produced a handful of coins for Amanda. “Quiet is a good thing, I’ll have you know.”

“Whatever.” Amanda bounced off the stool and went to peruse the selections. “So anything interesting happen last night?”

Joe limped around the bar and headed to his favorite booth, bottle of brandy in hand. “Well, some University student decided last night would be a good time to take up pole dancing.”

Amanda looked around the bar. “But you don’t have a pole.”

“Therein lies the problem,” Joe sank into the upholstered booth. “She tried to climb up on my bar.”

“Oh,” Amanda giggled. “I see your quandary.”

“Then a group of young men proceeded to pummel each other senseless in order to determine which one would be taking the chaste young lady home for the evening.”

“Darn kids.”

“Other than that,” Joe poured his drink and refilled Amanda’s abandoned glass, “the evening was busy and extremely profitable.”

Amanda’s ears perked up at the mention of money. “How profitable?”

“Chill, Amanda,” Joe patted the seat next to him. “My measly earnings aren’t even in the same ballpark as your annual ‘income’.”

“Honest living is rarely very lucrative,” she admitted with all seriousness. She finished punching in her selections. The beginning notes of ‘Love Her Madly’ streamed out of the jukebox. “I love this song.”

Joe watched with more than friendly interest as she sashayed her way to his table. Her chronicles mentioned more than one stint as a belly dancer cum harem concubine and with the way she was moving across the floor he almost wished he could find out first hand about her charms. Instead, he cleared his throat and chased away those thoughts before certain parts of his anatomy got the wrong idea.

“Got to see them after I got back from Nam. One of the best shows I’ve seen.” Joe agreed. “Morrison had a way with words.”

“Ah, the Lizard King had a way with more than words,” she revealed. “That boy had it going on on so many levels.”

“Did you know him?”

“Biblically?”

Joe sat up in his chair. “Did you?”

“A good girl never kisses and tells,” she demurred.

“And where is this imaginary girl at?”

“Hah, you’re so funny,” she retorted over her shoulder. “I need to visit the little girls room.”

Joe stretched out his legs and contemplated the weirdness of Amanda's high spirits. Seeing Mac with another woman, add the fact the woman was his long lost wife, had her more than a little blue. Now less than twenty-four hours later, everything was coming up puppies and roses in her little universe. Very curious.

Amanda’s disappearance into the restroom heralded the arrival of another patron. The sound of the bar door opening had him levering to his feet until he realized the new arrival was only Methos. Hell, the old man was a better barkeep than he was and besides, he knew where everything was kept.

“Hullo, Dawson,” Methos flung up his hand in greeting on his way to the bar and the ample supply of beer. “No need to get up, I can get my own drink.”

Joe didn’t respond, he only raised his middle digit in a greeting of his own. He tapped his cane along with music as it flowed to ‘Roadhouse Blues’. Methos sauntered over to the booth and shed his long coat and the solid steel of the Ivanhoe clanged nosily as he tossed the coat across a nearby table.

“I thought you had classes all day,” Joe said. “It’s barely afternoon.”

“I did.”

“And you’re here now, why?”

“Because I didn’t feel like looking at the little tossers today,” Methos drained half of his beer. “Better things to do than look at their blank faces.” Methos’ discourse on the evils of youth was interrupted by the buzz of another immortal. “Shit.”

“Relax, its just Amanda.”

Methos relaxed in his chair and continued to nurse his beer a small smile on his lips. “Ah, the lovely Amanda.”

“What?” Joe needed clarification.

“Nothing,” Methos sat his glass down. “So what’s new with you?”

“Why is everyone so curious about me,” Joe hmphed. “First, Amanda and now you. Makes a guy paranoid.”

“Whoa,” Methos held up his hands and leaned back in his chair. “Just asking, buddy. What’s got you so riled up?”

Joe rolled his eyes. “Long night and drunk people.”

“Doesn’t that normally come with the job description.”

“Makes me seriously reconsider my chosen occupation, though,” Joe grimaced. “Enough about me. How was your dinner with Amanda?”

“Not bad, entertaining for sure.”

“Entertaining?” Amanda asked as she rejoined the two men. “Is that all?”

“Well, I must admit it is one of the best dinners I’ve had in years,” he gave her a long stare clearly indicating a meal was the last thing on his mind. “As a matter of fact, I think I’m getting hungry again.”

Amanda’s mind replayed their various bouts of lovemaking from just hours before, including a slippery go in the shower and a rather heated tousle up against the front door on their way out to breakfast. They had arrived separately to throw off Joe’s curiosity; however they’d ducked into the alleyway for a quick grope session.

“I could eat,” she let her tongue glide along her lips in a less than modest manner. “Matter of fact, I’ll buy this time.”

Methos jerked his coat off the chair and tugged it on. “I’m parked around back.”

Amanda slipped her arm in his. “Let’s go, shall we?”

Joe watched as they strolled arm and arm towards the rear exit of the bar, pausing only long enough for Amanda to retrieve her coat. Too many years spent as a Watcher trained him to know that something was most definitely up with those two. Hurrying as best as he could to his feet, Joe did his finest impression of a trot as he trailed along behind. He could have sworn he heard giggles as the metal door closed on his two friends. Never in his years of friendship had he heard the old man giggle. Something was not right.

Using his Watcherly stealth, he pushed open the door just a crack and hoped that he wasn’t about to be caught spying. The cold air rushed in and made him shiver; however, when he saw Amanda pressed against Methos’ Range Rover, her already short skirt being pushed even higher by Methos’ large hand a flush of warmth flooded his cheeks.

“It’s cold out here,” he heard Amanda gasp as Methos hand disappeared further under the silky material of her skirt. “We should take this someplace a little warmer.”

Methos stepped even closer, which Joe swore was next to impossible, and wrapped his long coat around the both of them. “Bugger the cold, Amanda, I want you. Now.”

He nearly fell out the door when Amanda’s legs disappeared under the coat’s concealing material and Joe rightly assumed were wrapping around Methos’ waist. Add acrobat to her long list of handy occupations. Concluding with startling clarity that he had already seen more than he needed, Joe let the door whisper shut, drowning the growing moans and throaty exclamations drifting from the alley.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Joe grinned, rather pleased with how things had turned out. “The world will never be the same again.”

~~THE END~~