When Boys Are Boys
by MacNairCDC

Swinging the sword was easier than finding a place to put it and they shifted places continuously, attempting to find an opening in near solid defenses. Their voices rose above the din, full of vexation and the words extremely impolite.

�Phew. Can you fight like this drunk?� said Connor.

�Why, I wouldn�t hurt you for the world�� returned Duncan.

�You�re such a sinner.� The clash of steel. �Oww!�

�Hear him sing!� That earned him another slap with the flat of the sword on the south end. Duncan ducked around the nearest column, rubbing the sting and glared around the pole.

�It�s an awful thing, but you needn�t act like a mad wolf, heh heh heh,� cat-called the older MacLeod.

�First thing you know, you�ll be stabbing YOURSELF--� he had to leap sidelong, whirling in midair to escape. The return comment did not pass the censor. Duncan remembered belatedly why he should never wear a white shirt for this.

�Now who�s singing? Mercy, you can�t carry a tune in a bucket!�

�Go boil your head,� retorted the younger Scot, rubbing at the bloodstain on his ribcage.

�Doodlebug.� The thud of someone against the wall.

�Getting kind of violent like, hmm?� said sweetly. �You sound like an old goat stuck in the mud----WHOOF!�

A wrestle of bodies and appalling language�then a break. The twin swords arced in circles.

�This would be over by now if you�d quit wiggling like a piece of string,� said conversationally.

�Heh. Feeling a bit lucky today?�

�Your momma.�

�Just because you were sired out of a mule��

�MULE? No mules in the highlands, you old coot.�

�Sheep and goats - take your pick.�

�You are hell bent to die today!�

�Grouchy old dog.�

Something hit the dirt. Hard. �Whatcha� doing? Plowing with your nose?� The speaker moved adroitly. The other man had come off the ground in a smooth roll. Duncan was hard pressed to avoid the sweeping blade and the juggernaut that drove it.

�I�m going to slap you to a peak and slap the peak off!�

�Come on, you tall drink of water�� laughed the dark immortal.

�Bean blossom.�

�Stink weed.�

�Sheep nurse.�

�Horse thief.� He caught him on the shoulder.

�A mere pinprick.�

�By my count, you look more like a pincushion!� Again, the flat of a blade on his butt in passing. He grinned in good humor, awash in the kiss of the swords, the familiar banter. The evidence of affection running below the words. Home.

�Lemonade anyone?� Her voice was crystal pure. Tessa sat the tray on the bench and eyed them.

�Lemonade?�

�Don�t pout, old man, she always adds whiskey to mine.�

�Ahh, a woman after my own heart�� The comment was worth it for her light laugh and the other immortal�s frown. �Quit scowling, boy, looks like one long woolly worm for an eyebrow.�

�BOY!?�

�Just a wee lad yet.�

�Whew.� Tessa stepped back from them. �You�re BOTH boys and you smell like pigs.�

They looked at one another, suddenly inspired.

�Sheep?�

�Goats, for sure��