"So, Mac, are we gonna get a Christmas tree?" Methos asked innocently enough.

Duncan MacLeod looked up from the bills he was paying and regarded the Ancient Immortal sprawled across the couch. He knew there was more to the simple question, and feared that it would cost him dearly if he answered wrong. They had only been lovers for a short time, and they were still testing the boundaries of this relationship.

"We can, if that's what you want." There. A simple, open-ended answer. The ball was back in Methos' court.

"Well, it is the day before Christmas," Methos challenged. The ball was back in Duncan's court.

<Shit!> Duncan carefully thought about his reply, wondering what Methos was hinting at. Finally, he decided to play the 'considerate lover card'.

"We can do whatever you want, Methos," Duncan said, walking over to kiss the old man on the forehead.

"Great! Let's go!"

Suckered. Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod had been suckered by Methos of no last name. Again. Duncan smiled at the eager Immortal putting on his great coat, knowing that this wouldn't be the last time Methos would sucker him into doing whatever it was that Methos wanted. Luckily, what Methos wanted was usually what Duncan wanted.

"Why didn't you just say you wanted to get a Christmas tree?" Duncan asked as he put on his coat and checked for his katana.

"It was more fun making you sweat," Methos replied, laughing as he walked out the door.

Following the Ancient Immortal, Duncan briefly considered taking Methos' head, but dismissed the idea when he couldn't figure out a plausible story to tell Joe.

***

After spending two hours looking at Christmas trees, the two Immortals stopped long enough for lunch at a small café.

"So," Methos said, sipping his coffee, "what kind of decorations are we going to put on our tree?"

"I'm sure you have something in mind," Duncan mused.

"I've got a lot of things in mind, but none of them pertain to Christmas trees," Methos replied with a leer.

"Talking like that won't get your tree decorated," Duncan chided.

"No, but it will get-"

"Your ass nailed to the bathroom wall!" Duncan finished for him.

"Okay, okay. I get the point."

"Not yet, but later. I promise!" Duncan said with a leer of his own, and then continued, "I have some ornaments stored at the loft, from Christmases spent with Tessa and Richie. We could use those."

"I'm sure they're beautiful, but I want it to be 'our' tree. Is that okay?"

"Leave the past, in the past?" Methos nodded. "You're right, this should be 'our' tree. So, what do we want on it?"

"Well, I don't think we need one of those sappy 'First Christmas Together' ornaments. They're so saccharine." He stopped when he noticed a look on Duncan's face. "Unless you want one."

"No, you're right. They're silly, sentimental things," Duncan said too quickly, "Why don't we just go look at decorations and see if anything strikes our fancy."

Methos followed Duncan's lead, and dropped the subject, but kept an eye on his lover. He hoped that he hadn't hurt Duncan's feelings, but knew he had. Duncan was the kind of man and lover who would want to savor and enjoy all the intimacies of their relationship, and celebrating the fact that they were together was one of those things. Methos promised himself that he would find a way to make it up to his lover.

***

"Okay, Methos, what color lights? Blinking, twinkling, flashing or constant?"

"Um, white, I think. And get the ones that do all those things," Methos ordered as he went back to looking at tinsel. "Hey, Mac, what kind of tinsel? Silver, gold, colored? The stringy kind or ropes of it?"

"Ropes?" Mac asked in amazement.

"Yeah, ropes. Look at it," Methos said, pulling a length out and testing it's strength. "You know, we could get this, and you could tie me up with it," Methos finished suggestively.

"I don't think so, Methos."

"Okay, I could tie you up with it and--"

"I really don't think so, Methos!"

"Okay, okay. So what about balls?"

"Excuse me!" Duncan said loudly, attracting the attention of nearly everybody within earshot.

"Balls, MacLeod. For the tree," Methos said, smirking, "what color?"

"We could always do the traditional red or green or both--"

Methos cut him off, holding up a box, "Blue balls!"

"What?"

"How about decorating the tree with blue balls?" Methos answered innocently. "Damn, Mac, your mind is only on one thing."

"Who's the one who came up with the rope tinsel?"

"Hey, now that could really be useful," Methos sputtered, following Duncan to the next aisle.

"You're sick. So sick," muttered Duncan.

In the end, they ended up with blue balls, silver stringy tinsel and white lights that did everything except play music, Duncan had to draw the line somewhere. Then they were off to buy Christmas presents with a strict rule about buying only one gift for each other. Neither man noticed that they shopped at the same store, each buying a similar item.

***

It was late in the afternoon when they returned from their shopping adventure. Methos let Duncan struggle with the tree while he sipped a cold one.

"You know, I could use some help here, Methos!"

"You're doing a great job, Mac."

Methos ignored the Gaelic curses and finger flicked his way, savoring his beer and thinking about where he wanted the tree.

"So, where do you want this thing, Methos?"

"How about by the stairs to the roof?"

"There?"

"Sure, why not? That way we don’t have to get out of bed in the morning to open gifts."

Duncan laughed silently, leave it to Methos to figure a way to get his presents and stay in bed. <Boy, he’s sure gonna be in for a surprise later.> Duncan remembered the gift he had bought for Methos, and despite earlier doubts, he now felt confident that he had made the right choice.

"You want to decorate it now, old man?"

"Yeah, I can do that."

Methos moved towards the packages they had bought that afternoon, but Duncan quickly swept them out his grasp.

"Mac, it’s gonna be a little hard--"

"Maybe a lot hard," Duncan replied, taking Methos into his arms and kissing him.

They each struggled for control of the kiss, both masters in this area; they tried to use their knowledge to bring the other as much pleasure as possible. Methos knew that it drove Duncan crazy when Methos sucked on his tongue. Likewise, Duncan knew that if he ran his tongue along Methos’ gum line that the old man would shiver in delight. They lost themselves for long minutes in the art of kissing. Their bodies had fused together, becoming an extension of their kiss. Duncan caressed Methos’ back through the thick sweater, feeling the muscles flex as Methos tried to climb into Duncan’s skin. Rational thought became an unneeded luxury when Methos cupped Duncan’s erection through his wool pants.

"Oh, god!" Duncan managed to utter, his head falling back.

"What do you want?" Methos growled before lowering his head to suck on the exposed neck before him.

"I, um, oh yes," his ability to form logical sentences had gone out the door.

"You want me to suck you?" Methos supplied, sucking on Duncan’s ear lobe.

"Please..."

Methos slammed Duncan up against the nearest wall and made quick work of removing all the obstacles between his mouth and Duncan's cock. Duncan’s pants dropped to his ankles in the same second that Methos dropped to the ground, and his hot mouth closed around Duncan’s equally hot cock. Methos pinned him to the wall with firm hands while his mouth devoured the burning flesh. Now was not the time for finesse or skill, there was a need to be fulfilled, and Methos was the one to do it. He felt an ache in his own groin and quickly released the buttons on his jeans, his erect cock jutting out for attention, but he ignored it. His pleasure could wait. Duncan would come first. Methos shifted so that he could take the throbbing member fully into this throat, his hand cupping the heavy sack and gently rolling the balls in his hands. He could feel them tighten as the impending orgasm built in the younger man. Methos hummed against the cock in his throat and felt the hot semen burst free. He moved his hand to milk every drop from the man he loved.

The muscles in Duncan’s legs trembled at the pleasure he was receiving, and Methos was there to steady him. He finally opened his eyes and looked down into Methos’ golden ones. His eyes were filled with all the love he felt, and Duncan’s breath caught in his throat at the intensity. Leaning down, he cupped Methos’ chin and kissed him softly, tasting himself on his lover.

"That was amazing, Methos," he whispered.

"Glad you liked it." Was whispered back.

"Now it’s your turn," Duncan said with a smile.

He pulled Methos up and reached for his member. Expecting to find it hard and needy, he was a bit shaken to find that it wasn’t even erect. He shot a glance at Methos, whose eyes were downcast.

"Methos?"

"You’re gonna need new shoes, Mac."

"What?" Mac asked, then looked down to see his right loafer covered with a creamy substance that he realized was semen. He burst into laughter, between the semen covered loafer and the pants bunched around his ankles, he knew he made a hilarious sight.

Methos backed away, shaking his head and buttoning up his jeans. "It’s not funny," he pouted.

"No, it’s not," Duncan agreed, "but I am. Look at me. If someone where to walk in here right now and see me with my pants around my ankles and cum on my shoe, they’d be laughing their ass off. Right?"

Methos turned and saw the picture that Duncan described and had to laugh, "You’re right."

They laughed together as they cleaned up; relishing the peace and happiness, hoping it would last.

***

While Methos decorated the tree, Duncan went down to the dojo to wrap Methos’ Christmas present. He was still kind of nervous about giving it to him, but it was something that he knew Methos really wanted.

While he was down there, he gave Joe a call to confirm their plans for Christmas Day. They hadn’t told Joe about their relationship yet, and had only told Amanda when she had tried to wrangle an invitation to stay at the loft.

"Do you know if Methos will be coming?" Joe asked.

Duncan thought of Methos coming and coughed to cover up his laughter. Joe didn’t seem to notice.

"I know he’s still in town, but I haven’t seen him in a couple of days," Joe finished.

"He’s been busy, but he’ll be there tomorrow. What time?" Duncan tried to keep his voice steady as images of Methos ran through his brain.

"Around noon. Oh, by the way, Amanda came by this afternoon, so don’t be surprised when she shows up there," Joe said.

Duncan could hear the smile in his voice, and didn’t have the heart to tell his friend and Watcher that Amanda had already called and was staying at a local hotel with her new friend, Nick.

"Right. Now, are you sure you don’t need me to bring anything?"

"I’ve got it under control, Mac."

"Okay then. Tomorrow.

"Tomorrow."

***

While Duncan had been in the dojo, Methos had wrapped the presents he had bought. At first he hadn’t had a clue what to get for Duncan, but when he was wandering though the fine gifts area, he found the perfect thing. He knew that Duncan would like it; it was something that Duncan really wanted, even if he hadn’t said so.

They hadn’t bought much for the tree, so it was a simple matter to decorate it. He was putting the tinsel on when he heard the elevator start up. Even though there was no difference in the buzz of Immortals, Methos always knew when it was Duncan. It was hard to explain, but from the first time they had met it had been that way. He turned when he heard the gate slide up. Duncan was carrying two beautifully wrapped packages. As he set them down, Methos looked to see who they were for but there were no tags on them. He stifled his curiosity and hugged the younger man.

"So, what do you think of my tree?"

"Not bad, but we forgot to get something for the top."

"Yes and no."

"What are you talking about, Methos?"

"Well, I figured that since you have ornaments stored here, that maybe you had a tree topper that we could use."

"I thought you didn’t want to use any of the ornaments from the past."

"You do. Your past means a lot to you, and you mean a lot to me. I don’t want you to forget your past, I want you to hold it close to your heart, like you do me."

Methos rarely revealed his heart, but when he did, he went all the way with it. They stood together, locked in each other’s arms and watched the lights blink on the Christmas tree. They shared the same space and air, and even their heartbeats became one.

***

"So, what’d you find, Mac?" Methos asked, looking up from making a salad.

"Well, you have a choice between a factory made crystal star or a homemade plaster angel."

"A homemade plaster what?"

"An angel," Duncan said, handing it to Methos. "It’s a long story. It was right after Tessa and I had moved back to Paris with Richie. He bought her this horrible bust, but he thought it was really great. It was Julius Caesar or Beethoven or somebody. We were never really sure because it was so bad. Anyway, Tessa let him set it out, not wanting to hurt his feelings, and then it got knocked over. She swore up and down that it had been an accident, so Richie decides that he’s gonna go out and buy her another one. She does some fast talking and tells him that she’s gonna use the pieces in her art and that another bust would never replace the first one in her heart. So, some time goes by and he asks her about it. Well, by now she’s forgotten about it and starts to panic, but I had kept the pieces because I knew he wouldn’t forget. With Christmas coming she decides to make an ornament with the pieces. After working on it for days, she finally presents it to us. She had turned that horrible bust into a beautiful angel. We used that on our tree that year, the only Christmas that the three of us spent together."

Methos was as caught up in listening to the story as Duncan was in telling it. They both thought about Richie and Tessa, both dying before they had the chance to really live. It made them appreciate each other and their love all the more. Life was so fragile, even for an Immortal.

"I think you should put the angel on the tree, Duncan," Methos said softly.

Duncan just nodded, holding the angel close to his heart.

"I miss them so much sometimes."

"I know."

Duncan’s deep brown eyes met Methos’ gold-green ones and saw the shared sorrow.

"Alexa?"

Methos just nodded.

"You only spent one Christmas with her, didn’t you?"

"Yeah. She wasn’t very sick then, and we were able to have a nice Christmas. She said that it was the best day of her life."

They shared their grief in the silence of the room; each lost in their special memories of those they had lost. Their hands were clasped tightly together, trying to bring the other comfort and acting as a lifeline to the present.

***

Christmas morning came late to the loft. The two Immortals had stayed up late, talking and laughing, sharing special stories about Christmases past. They had finally fallen into bed, too exhausted for anything except sleep, at nearly four in the morning. They had overslept and now were running behind.

They got to Joe’s ten minutes late, and walked in together. After a flurry of kisses and hugs by Amanda, and an introduction of Nick, Joe finally asked the question on his mind.

"What’s up with you two?"

"What are you talking about Joe?" Duncan asked, innocently.

"Don’t give me that innocent routine, MacLeod. Amanda shows up with Nick, and you two breeze in like two cats who ate the canary," he paused when Amanda snorted out a laugh, "I want to know what the hell you two are up to?"

"Maybe you should show him your shoes, Mac," Methos offered, moving out of striking range.

Joe, Amanda and Nick all regarded Duncan’s shoes with interest, noticing how one was slightly darker than the other, like something had spilled on it and then dried. In his rush to dress this morning, Duncan had forgotten what had happened and had put them on.

"Joe, Me-, um, Adam and I have, well, we," Duncan stammered. He was at a loss for the right words.

"What Mac is trying to say in his usual articulate way is that we have become lovers," Methos finished for him.

"Hallelujah! Bought damn time the two of you came to your senses."

Methos and Duncan were stunned into silence.

"Hey, Joe, if you had known it would cause them to be quiet, you should have said something earlier," Amanda said, holding on to Nick like he was her personal property.

Joe started laughing, and pretty soon they were all caught up in the humor of the situation. Methos brought Duncan a glass of wine, and Amanda started laughing about Methos becoming the ‘little woman’, to which Methos reminded her that she had also been in that role. They teased each other, with the others joining in. Finally, Nick asked the question that his detective’s mind wouldn’t drop.

"So, what did happen to your shoe, Mac?"

***

Several hours later, the two Immortals arrived home with more packages than they had left with. Joe had served enough food to feed twice as many people and had sent leftovers home with them. They were also loaded down with presents from Amanda and Joe.

Joe had been practical in his gift giving. He had given Duncan a bottle of Glenmorangie that had come straight from Scotland. Methos had received a membership to the Beer of the Month Club with strict instructions that he had to remain in one place for at least twelve months to reap the benefits.

Amanda had been her usual naughty self. Knowing they were together, she had given them a body painting kit, complete with brushes. For Methos, she had contacted a friend who ran a chocolate shop in New Orleans and had him create a chocolate extravaganza basket, complete with chocolate covered strawberries and miniature chocolate penises. Everyone had laughed when he had immediately grabbed one of the penises and ate with it relish. She had given Duncan a hand knitted sweater in the exact shade of his eyes. Methos again had been the center of attention when he picked it up, held it against himself, and asked if they thought it would fit.

All in all, the evening had been wonderful, and now, the best part of the night was about to begin. They changed out of their clothes and into bathrobes, and met in the bed, each man a little nervous at the thought of giving his present.

"So, who first?" Methos asked expectantly.

Duncan smiled shakily, "You first."

Methos stretched across the bed, reaching for his present to Duncan without getting out from under the covers. He turned to face his laughing lover.

"As long as I can make you laugh, Mac, we’ve got it made."

Duncan leaned and kissed Methos on the tip of his nose.

Methos took a deep breath before he began to explain his gift to Duncan.

"I wanted to get you something that you’d like, that you’d want. I hope you like it."

His nervousness was apparent, and it touched Duncan’s heart that Methos would worry so much about his approval. He took the small gift from Methos trembling fingers and slowly unwrapped it.

"Oh, Methos."

"It’s what you wanted, and I want you to have it. Merry Christmas, Duncan."

It was a porcelain Christmas ornament in the shape of two doves, and written across it in gold lettering was ‘First Christmas Together 1998’.

Duncan sat quietly for a long minute, his finger tracing the words, and he savored the feeling of being loved. He felt Methos touch his arm and looked up into those golden eyes and felt a tear roll down his cheek.

"Thank you, Methos."

Methos wiped the tear away with his fingertip and brought it to his lips. The action was meant to comfort Duncan, but instead managed to make his body respond in anticipation of giving his gift. He stood up and hung the ornament near the top, his past and future happiness closely linked. He reached for Methos’ gift and turned back to find the old man waiting expectantly.

"I don’t think mine will have quite the impact yours did. But I hope you like it just as much."

Duncan offered the gift to Methos and sat back down near the foot of the bed to wait. Ripping the paper away quickly, Methos opened the end of the package. He pulled out a wooden box with a small clasp. He looked at Duncan expectantly and opened the lid.

It was a sexual adventure kit. There were candles, incense, massage oils, flavored body gels, tubes of lube, a CD of jungle music and even a feather, everything necessary for an adventurous evening of sexual pleasure.

Methos looked up at Duncan with an obvious question in his eyes.

"It’s not your real present," Duncan said quietly.

"It isn’t?"

"No, I am." He took a deep breath before continuing, "I want you to make love to me, Methos."

"Duncan?"

"It’s something you want, and I want you to have it, have me," his words echoed Methos’ earlier ones. "I love you, Methos. Merry Christmas."

Methos set the box on the floor and moved into Duncan’s embrace.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked concernedly.

"I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life."

Methos didn’t need to hear anything else. He pulled Duncan tighter against him, and they fell back onto the pillows. There was none of the hurry and rush that had been there the previous afternoon. They had all night to pleasure each other, and they were going to use every second.

Methos rolled Duncan onto his back and straddled his hips. He used his leverage to take control of the kiss, sucking fiercely on Duncan’s tongue, causing the younger man to moan with pleasure. Methos kissed his way down to Duncan’s neck, his tongue leaving a trail of moisture on the hot skin. Duncan leaned his head back, and Methos took full advantage of the exposed flesh. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin, and he felt Duncan’s body responding under him, the little moans of pleasure increasing with each flick of his tongue.

Duncan was slowly being driven out of his mind. Methos was teasing his flesh, making it super sensitive to the repeated torture he was experiencing. He felt Methos’ hands stroke his chest, pulling at the hairs and pinching his nipples. When Methos’ hot tongue flicked across a nipple, Duncan almost lost control, but the older Immortal’s hands were firmly holding him down.

Methos smiled against he hot skin of his lover; he could tell Duncan was enjoying this. He hadn’t even touched the younger man’s erection, but he could feel it against his stomach, poking at him. Following the line of hair, Methos trailed kisses towards his goal. He stopped briefly to dip his tongue into the shallow belly button. He heard Duncan’s sharp intake of breath and paused to do it again.

"Quit teasing me," Duncan growled.

"I haven’t begun to tease you yet, Highlander."

Duncan shivered at the words and the actions when Methos reached into the gift Duncan had given him for a tube of lubricant. He knew that Methos always brought him pleasure, and to think that he hadn’t even been trying made Duncan’s cock throb with need. Feeling Methos’ tongue on his skin again, he held his breath in anticipation. He felt Methos’ tongue dance and curl in his pubic hair, the cool air drying the wet trail left behind. Methos rubbed his nipples against Duncan’s thighs, and he moaned in response.

Methos wanted to take his time and make the experience something Duncan would never forget, but the younger man’s impatience was playing hell with his own reaction. He tried to keep his mind on bringing Duncan as much pleasure as possible. He gripped the younger man’s steel rod in his hand and firmly stroked him from base to tip, sliding the foreskin back and revealing the purple, engorged head. A drop of fluid appeared at his actions, and he licked it away with a feather soft flick of his tongue. Duncan arched and bucked against Methos, and he knew it was time to prepare his lover.

"Turn on your side, Duncan."

The younger man followed his directions with uncharacteristic compliance. Methos spooned up behind him and wrapped his arms around the younger man.

"We can stop, Mac. You don’t have to do this."

"I want to, Methos. I want you to," Duncan turned his head and locked eyes with his lover, "I’ve never wanted anything more."

Methos leaned down and softly kissed him. He trailed kisses towards Duncan’s ear and then nipped at the lobe. He felt the younger man’s buttocks rub against his swollen member, and he bit down on the vulnerable skin of the Highlander’s neck. Running his hand down Duncan’s side, he teased the turgid flesh with butterfly touches, causing the younger man to arch against his hand, trying to find release.

"Soon," Methos whispered, in a calming voice.

He nudged Duncan’s legs apart and fondled the newly exposed area. Skillful fingers teased at the opening to Duncan’s body. Methos felt the tension in the younger man and he latched onto his neck, his teeth barely touching the reactive skin.

Duncan was relaxing into Methos’ arms when he felt a coolness against his puckered opening. He jumped when he felt it push inside him, coating his opening with the lube. Methos’ other hand sought Duncan’s, their fingers entwining, seeking to reassure and support.

Sliding in a second finger, Methos scissored them, opening and stretching his lover. Nudging Duncan’s prostate, he felt the younger man push back against him and Methos smiled to himself in anticipation. He sucked hard on the flesh of Duncan’s neck, timing the motions to mimic his thrusting fingers.

"Please..." Duncan gasped.

Methos needed no further invitation. He liberally coated his engorged cock with the lube, the coolness having a calming effect on him. Pressing the head of his cock against the rosebud, he leaned close to Duncan’s ear.

"I love you, Duncan."

The head of Methos’ cock slid past the ring of muscle, and Duncan moaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Methos’ hand slipped around Duncan’s weeping erection. He slid his hand down the length and as he also slid fully inside the younger man.

"Oh, Meeeetttthhhhooooooooss."

The sensual quality of his name on Duncan’s lips encouraged Methos’ movements. He moved slowly, languidly within the younger man, each stroke hitting Duncan’s prostate. He matched his thrusts to the steady stroking of his hand on Duncan’s burning cock. He was building sensation after sensation, his motions deliberate and premeditated; he wanted to bring his lover as much satisfaction as possible. The problem was that he was also bringing himself pleasure with his actions. He pumped the cock in his hand harder and faster, his hips following suit.

"Come for me, Duncan," he growled before resuming his onslaught on the tender neck and shoulder; the marks he made seconds ago, already healed.

Duncan threw his head back and gave himself over to the waves of ecstasy coursing though him. He came hard, semen flowing forth from him in a steady stream. His mouth opened, but no intelligible words came forth.

Methos felt Duncan’s orgasm building, and rode out each wave of pleasure as it crested and waned, and only then did he find release in the sated soul of his lover. His body trembled as he came inside the pliant Immortal beside him.

They lay together like that, joined physically and mentally, for countless minutes. The only sounds in the room were their ragged breaths, which eventually slowed to normal. Their heartbeats, once fast and furious, slowed and beat as one. Their sweat drenched bodies dried in the cool air of the loft and chilled them. It was that chill that drove Methos to pull the covers up over them. Duncan moaned when Methos’ cock slid out of him, but Methos hushed him and curled back against him, nestling up safely beside the man he loved.

"Merry Christmas, Methos," Duncan murmured.

"I don’t think it’s Christmas anymore," Methos said, softly. "It’s after midnight."

"After that, Methos, every day with you is gonna be like Christmas."

***

Methos smelled coffee. He peeked out from under the pillow and saw Duncan puttering around in the kitchen. <Too early!> Methos judged, and promptly recovered his head. But Duncan had seen the movement and was already pouring a cup of coffee.

He set the mug on the bedside table and sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed. Methos could be a bear in the morning, and he didn’t want to start the day out on the wrong foot. Yesterday had been amazing, incredible, fantastic, everything he had hoped it would be. He had woken up this morning feeling like he could fly, with energy to spare. He had already been downstairs to do his morning katas and had showered and made coffee, and was now anxious for Methos to wake up. He wanted to look into those golden green eyes that had captured his heart long ago, and know that everything between them was the same, was better. He rubbed Methos’ back through the comforter, trying to ease him into wakefulness.

"Love," he said very softly.

A mumbled sound was his only reply.

"Coffee."

The lump on the bed moved closer to him; a hand appeared and reached towards the bedside table and the steaming cup of coffee.

"No, Methos," Duncan said, pushing Methos’ hand away, "I don’t particularly want second degree burns this morning."

The comforter slid down enough to reveal Methos’ eyes, and the look in them didn’t bode well for the rest of the day. Without a word, the comforter flew off the Ancient Immortal and he trudged off to the bathroom, the door slamming to confirm Duncan’s hypothesis. Hopefully, when Methos saw the gift that still remained under the tree it would change his mood.

Half an hour later, the bathroom door opened, and Methos exited wearing Duncan’s burgundy bathrobe. Looking at the coffee cup on the bedside table, he saw that it was steaming. He glanced towards Duncan leaning against the kitchen counter sipping his own cup. Methos picked up his cup and walked around the end of the bed to his side, but he stopped short when he saw the single present under the tree.

"It’s for you," Duncan supplied.

Methos grunted and picked up the small package. Sitting on the bed, he placed his coffee cup on the table and made quick work of the wrapping paper.

Duncan watched in amusement as the paper flew, and his jaw dropped when he saw Methos fall over, his whole body shaking. He was on the bed next to his lover in two seconds.

"What is it? What’s wrong?"

A small sound, like a gasp, escaped Methos’ lips and tears slid from the corner of his eyes; it was then that Duncan realized that Methos was laughing.

"What the hell’s so funny? I thought you’d like it."

Duncan started to get off the bed, but was held back by a strong grip on his forearm.

"Wait," Methos managed to say between fits of laughter.

"Well," Duncan said impatiently.

He watched Methos fumble under the side of the mattress and pull out another gift for Duncan. The oldest Immortal’s hands shook as he handed it to his lover, but it was from another spasm of laughter, not nervousness.

Duncan took the package, ripped it open and stared at an item identical to what he gave Methos; it was a package of rope tinsel. He threw his head back and howled in laughter. His hand sought Methos’, and they linked fingers much like the night before. Methos squeezed Duncan’s hand in reassurance, and everything was right with the world.

"Looks like I’m not the only sick one here, MacLeod," Methos said with a smirk on his face and in his voice.

"Yeah, well, I thought maybe you might be able to show me a few things." Innuendo was evident in every word.

Methos moved faster than he ever had. He vaulted on top of his lover, slipped a knot around each wrist and pulled them taut.

"Yeah, I think I can manage that."

The end.