Disclaimer: Rysher/Gaumont/Panzer/Davis have the privilege of owning Duncan, Methos and the concept of immortality. I have just borrowed them for my own needs. I gained no money from the use of them but gained pleasure. No copyright infringement is intended

The song “Closing Time” by Semisonic was used without permission but respect. No copyright infringement is intended. Please don’t sue me.

This story was beta read and made better by Princess Punctuation. Any mistakes you find are my fault entirely.

Rated PG for implied m/m relationship.

This story takes place between “Valkyrie” and “Comes a Horseman”. Feedback will be appreciated. Flames will be doused with cold water.

Closing Time

Methos signaled for another beer. It was only his third, but the bartender gave him a disapproving look. The look Methos gave him was somewhere between ‘leave me the fuck alone’ and ‘drop dead’. Besides, there was no way for the bartender to know that this was the third bar he had been in since five o’clock this evening.

Methos ambled over to a small table near the back of the bar. He had already looked for the back exit, just in case, but hoped he wouldn’t have to use it.

The waitress walked by, and he raised his bottle in mock salute. She turned and gave him the once over. He didn’t look like most of the losers that frequented this bar. In fact, he looked pretty good.

Methos was a striking man. The planes of his face were more pronounced by the dim lighting. His lips were full and pouty. His gold-green eyes sparkled more than usual as a result of his slightly inebriated state. He was a tempting sight as he sat there sprawled in a chair that looked too small for his lanky frame. The waitress returned to the bar and brought back another beer.

“Thanks,” he said, giving her one of his rare smiles.

“Sure thing, sweetie. Name’s Kim if you need anything else.”

She turned and walked away. Methos got a full view of her backside, which was barely covered by a skirt so short, that he could see up if he tried hard enough. She turned and looked over her shoulder to see if he was looking. When she caught him looking she gave him a look that made her interest clear. The problem was that Methos wasn’t interested. At least not in her. Or for that matter any woman. For the last year Methos had been interested in Duncan MacLeod. The problem with that was that Duncan MacLeod wasn’t interested in him. At least not in any way other than friendship.

<Shit. Damn.> Methos thought to himself. He had tried to forget Duncan, but it wasn’t an easy thing to do. Duncan was always there. Hiding in the back of his mind. Taunting him with promises of love and pleasure that Duncan had never actually made.

Methos had tried to love other people. Methos had loved Alexa, but it was different from the love he felt for Duncan. Alexa was a wonderful, caring, thoughtful woman who had to carry the burden of her cancer alone with no help or love from her family. Methos was drawn to her so swiftly that he hadn’t had time to consider what would happen. She was so young, so innocent and so alone. Methos felt compelled to be with her. It was a longing he couldn’t explain or understand, he just knew he had to care for her and protect her for as long as she lived. He just hadn’t realized how short a period of time that would be.

But even when he was with Alexa, his thoughts were never far from Duncan. When he had heard about the Dark Quickening, he had immediately wanted to help Duncan, but he felt torn between his love for Duncan and the promises he had made to Alexa. He had never realized until then how astute Alexa was.

She knew Methos loved her but she also sensed that there was someone else in his heart. She encouraged him to go to Duncan, help him and declare his love. She knew she wouldn’t live much longer, and she wanted to make sure Methos would have someone after she was gone. It was the most selfless act Methos had ever witnessed.

He had gone to help Duncan but couldn’t find the courage to reveal his feelings. When he went back to Alexa, he lied and told her that Duncan returned his feelings. He couldn’t let her die thinking he would be alone.

Methos signaled to Kim, and she brought him another beer.

“It’s almost closing time, so this’ll be your last beer. Unless you want to come back to my place,” she suggested boldly.

Methos gave her one of his best school boy grins but shook his head. “I wish I could, but I’m involved.” It was the easiest lie to tell.

She shrugged her shoulders and walked away, mumbling something under her breath about him not knowing what he had missed. He laughed to himself and took a long swallow from the icy beer.

The bartender announced last call and switched off the jukebox. He flipped on a sound system and cued the CD. As the opening notes filled the bar, Methos sat back to listen.

Closing time
Open all the doors up and let you out into the world

Closing time
Turn all of the lights on over every boy and every girl

Closing time
One last call for alcohol so finish your whisky or beer
Methos complied with the song and took a long swig of the warming beer.
Closing time
You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here
I know who I want to take me home
I know who I want to take me home
I know who I want to take me home
Methos had to smile at the irony.
Closing time
Time for you to go out to the places you will be from

Closing time
This room won’t be open til your brothers or your sisters come

So gather up your jackets move it to the exits
I hope you have found a friend

More irony.
Closing time
Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end

I know who I want to take me home
I know who I want to take me home
I know who I want to take me home

Methos lost himself in the lyrics. He did know who he wanted to take him home. Or rather, he knew whose home he wanted to go to.
Closing time
Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end
Methos drained the last of his beer, tossed a couple of bills on the table and left the bar before the lights could come up. The last words he had heard were echoing in his ears. Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end. He put his head down and started walking. The night wasn’t a particularly cold one, but it was still too damp for his taste. The song kept ringing in his ears.

<Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.>

Maybe now was the time to tell Duncan how he felt about him. He had been alone for so many years. Maybe it was time to give in to the desire and longing he felt. <Yeah and get my teeth knocked out in the process.> Methos thought to himself. <Or maybe just lose the best friend I’ve ever had.> It was too much of a risk. <But what if I do a little fishing? What if I just hint around to Duncan that I care more than I've let on? That way I could see if he would be receptive to my advances.> It was one hell of a plan. It might mean ending their friendship, but it could also mean beginning their love affair. Was it worth the risk? <Well, that’s why I’m going fishing. To find out if the water was safe. Safety first.>

Methos shivered in his jacket and considered going to his hotel. Before he could look up to see where he was, he felt the buzz of another immortal. His hand quickly reached for the sword he kept by his side. He looked around and then laughed out loud. His subconscious had led him to Duncan’s dojo. Methos sighed resolutely and walked up the back steps.

Before he could knock on the door, Duncan was opening it. Duncan held his katana in his hand but lowered it when he recognized Methos. He stepped back to let the Ancient Immortal in the warm loft. Methos walked across the room and sat on the couch. Duncan replaced the katana by his bed and poured himself a glass of Glenmorangie. He took a seat across from Methos and waited for him to speak.

Methos looked at Duncan and tried to decide where to begin. He looked around the room and realized that Duncan hadn’t been to bed yet even though it was almost three in the morning. <I wonder what’s keeping him up so late.> Methos thought. <Well, as they say, it’s time to fish or cut bait.> Methos sighed heavily and threw the line in the water.

“We need to talk, Mac.”

<Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.>

The end.

For now.


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