Disclaimer: Not owned by me, but if I did...well, it's probably better left unsaid. No copyright infringement is intended and no stinking money was made.
Rating: R
Diana did more than beta read this story, she actually shaped it into something recognizable! I'd be lost without your friendship!! Thanks always! Any mistakes are mine and I proudly accept them! :) the little bastards....
Notes: This is the third in my Futures Series and picks up right after A Promise Fulfilled. And Still and A Promise Fulfilled can be found on my webpage.
Warnings: Um...no sex, but Duncan has morals and ethics and he refused. And because of that, Methos has been typing madly on the lap top and I fear for my eyes when I finally have to read it! Does that matter here? No, but I had your attention and I really wanted to see how many people actually read all the disclaimers and such. Go read the story! :) Thanks!
The Forgotten Vow
Three days ago, Methos had sauntered back into Duncan MacLeod's life after being absent for twenty-five years. Now, here he was looking at the man he still loved, had always loved, and wondering how he was going to tell him he had to leave. Methos stood in front of Duncan and consumed the Highlander with his golden-green eyes.
Immortals never aged but they did change over time, though only those who knew them well enough could see the subtle differences. Usually it was the eyes that changed, reflecting everything they'd seen, and Duncan was no different. His eyes were sadder than they had been a quarter of a century ago, even though they were shining with longing and desire. Methos felt the burden of that sadness on his shoulders, knowing he was responsible for all of it. And now he knew that he was going to have to hurt Duncan some more.
"Methos?" Duncan sensed the change in Methos' attitude.
"I have to go," Methos stated simply.
"Why? Where?" Duncan demanded.
"There's a problem."
"What?" Duncan said, standing, concerned.
"At home. It's-"
"Your wife," Duncan supplied thickly, his voice betraying his hurt.
Methos weary green-gold eyes met Duncan's suddenly angry brown ones. "Yes."
Duncan turned and stalked back to the coffee table where he had left his glass. He drained the remaining whiskey and poured himself another. Methos was behind him, not touching, just standing there.
"You should go," Duncan said quietly.
"I think I need to explain about Elena," Methos started.
"I don't want to hear it," Duncan picked up his coat. "Be gone when I come back."
The slamming door reverberated throughout the barge, and Methos shivered. This went well.
***
The garden behind the cottage that Methos purchased in Paris was quiet as he opened the gate and slipped in. He could see Elena moving around inside, probably getting dinner together. Lowering himself to the cold ground, Methos leaned against a tree and contemplated the situation before him.
Twelve years ago, he had been living in Barcelona as Professor Adam Price. He was teaching foreign languages at a university there, when he met Elena's father, Rodrigo Campas. They were in the same department at the university and shared a love of foreign languages and old books. Rodrigo invited him to dinner one evening, and that's when he met Elena.
She was sixteen and a beauty. Possessing long raven tresses and deep brown eyes that immediately reminded Methos of Duncan, she was also a shy little thing, probably afraid of her own shadow. His friendship with Rodrigo grew over the years, and when Rodrigo had a heart attack, Methos stepped forward to take charge. Elena leaned on him for support, and Methos accepted the burden willingly, gratified that someone needed him. The night before Rodrigo's surgery, he made Methos promise to take care of Elena. To ease his friend's fears, Methos agreed. He had no idea that Rodrigo would die and his pledge would radically affect his life.
A week after the funeral, Adam Price and Elena Campos said vows before a magistrate and began their married life. He'd encouraged her to go to college and build a career, but she'd said that her career now was to take care of him. She'd tried to learn everything he liked, from favorite foods to laundry preferences. She'd even tried to please him in bed, but Methos was miserable. He cared for Elena, but he didn't love her. There was no way for him to walk away from her, she couldn't take care of herself, and his promise weighed heavily on him, so he resigned himself to the situation and tried to make the best of it.
Their ten years together weren't all bad. There were some good times, but sometimes Methos felt stifled by her. She wanted to spend every minute he was home together, because she didn't like to be alone, while that was sometimes all he wanted. He spent long hours at the university, finding excuse after excuse until she would call and ask him to come home. Her need for constant reassurances was endless, and nothing he could do encouraged her independence. It was a heavy burden to be responsible for someone's happiness, and it made him by turn helpless, hopeless and angry.
He took his anger out on his students, and if he was lucky, he would meet an Immortal that was stupid enough to challenge him. He hated the Quickening, but the fighting was an outlet for all his rage and anger. Unfortunately, there were no outlets for the rest. He kept everything about his Immortality secret from Elena throughout the years, knowing that one day he would either have to tell her or walk away.
And here he was, sitting in the garden contemplating leaving her, but coming up with no answers. Elena was dependent on him, and he didn't know how she would survive without him. Duncan was independent, but Methos wasn't sure he could survive without the Highlander any longer. He was running in circles with no hopes of catching his tail.
A startled gasp shook him out of his revelry. He looked up to see that Elena had stepped outside.
"Adam, sweetie, I didn't know you were home. Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice was light and somewhat melodious, but it grated on his nerves, especially her constant use of pet names, specifically 'sweetie'. Just hearing it made him wince.
"It's such a beautiful evening, I just wanted to sit here and enjoy it."
"You should have called me, honey. We could have enjoyed it together."
He half smiled and held out his hand to her. "There's still a few minutes left that we can share."
They sat together watching the sun set and spoke not a word. Methos wished there was some way he could protect the man he loved and the woman he cared for, but he knew that one of them would be hurt eventually.
Sometime later she rose to go back inside. Rising gracefully, he followed her into the cottage and his little life.
***
Duncan didn't go back to the barge until after dark. He had walked the familiar streets of Paris for hours trying to find the answers to his questions. He finally decided that having Methos back in his life was the most important thing, no matter the circumstances. However, long ago Duncan made the decision that he would never knowingly come between a married couple, and that would hold true in this situation. As much as he loved and wanted Methos, he wouldn't make love with him. He was sure that Methos would laugh at his morals, but Duncan knew it was the right thing to do.
The barge was dark and cold, and very empty. He started a fire quickly and settled in his chair. A small paper on the coffee table caught his attention. Picking it up, he recognized the Ancient Immortal's scrawl; it was a phone number. Duncan reached for the phone but pulled his hand back when he realized that he didn't know what to say to Methos. He would call Methos tomorrow, hoping that sleep would provide him with the answers that eluded him in wakefulness.
***
Methos was in his office by ten the next morning. He had checked his cell phone several times to make sure it was on and that the batteries weren't low; he felt like a school girl waiting for her boyfriend to call. Methos again checked his phone. He couldn't call him; Duncan had to make the first move. The phone rang in his hand.
"Adam Price," he answered breathlessly.
"Sweetie, it's me."
"Elena, do you need something?"
"I'm not catching you at a bad time am I, angel?"
"I'm in a hurry. What do you need?" he asked gently.
"I just wanted to see if we could have lunch this afternoon," her voice rose perilously close to a whine. Lately, she had become even more clinging, her demands more strident, her needs more desperate. Now, hearing the new edge in her voice, Methos wished fervently that things could be different.
Methos sighed and for once was thankful for his school obligations. "I can't. There's a faculty luncheon this afternoon."
"Oh, I remember you mentioning it now," she said. "You will come home early this evening, won't you, sweetie?"
"I'll try," he said sadly. "Gotta go."
"Alright. I love you."
"Bye."
He knew that he was being unfair to Elena--she didn't deserve that kind of brush-off. None of it was Elena's fault, but he kept finding himself on the verge of lashing out at her. With a sigh, he resolved to make it up to her.
The phone rang again.
"Adam Price."
"So that's what you're calling yourself now."
Duncan's deep voice resonated within Methos' head. He sounded happy.
"Yeah." It was all he could manage to say.
"I was wondering if you'd like to come over for lunch," Duncan asked, continuing quickly, "We have a lot to discuss."
"We do," Methos agreed, easily casting aside his obligations. "Around one?"
"Great. See you then, old man."
Methos didn't hear anything after that. Some people wouldn't consider 'old man' an endearment, but to Methos it was tantamount to a caress. It made him feel loved, safe. Wanted. Duncan wanted to talk. Duncan still wanted him. I'll never survive the next three hours!
***
It was a beautiful day, the sun had seen to that, and it lifted Methos' spirits even more. His heart pounded within his chest as the barge came into view. He studied it, savoring everything, wanting to remember this for the rest of his life.
He felt Duncan's presence and then saw him step out onto the deck of the barge. He's waiting for me. It rang through his head and heart, and a beautiful smile graced his lips. An answering smile formed on Duncan's face, and Methos stepped up his pace, not stopping until he was in Duncan's arms.
They clung to each other, relishing the contact, unwilling to let go. There was nothing in the world save these two men. Their hands covered each other, feeling muscles and skin. It was too much, and their bodies reacted. Growing erections rubbed through multiple layers of clothes. Stepping back, they laughed, both a little flushed.
"Let's have lunch," Duncan offered. Methos nodded and followed him inside.
***
They talked about Methos' career and Duncan's latest project over grilled chicken Caesar salads and French bread. They talked about everything except Elena. When they finished, Methos helped Duncan clean up the kitchen, and they settled on the couch. It was time. Methos explained about his promise to Elena's father, and about her dependence on him and how much he cared for her. He never once said that he loved her.
"You've never told her about your Immortality?" Duncan asked.
"No," Methos said, shaking his head, "and I've been with her for over 10 years. I either need to tell her or..."
"Or leave," Duncan supplied. Methos nodded.
Duncan went to the fridge and grabbed two beers. He tossed one to Methos who twisted the lid off and then threw it back at Duncan. It was a practiced and familiar action, and brought back a lot of memories to both men. Finally learning to catch Methos' volleys was the only way Duncan had kept the lids from under his furniture.
"So, what are you going to do?" Duncan asked conversationally, taking his place beside Methos again.
"I don't know. I made a promise, and now I just need to find a way to keep it." Methos turned serious, his hand seeking Duncan's. "I do know that I can't be away from you again."
Duncan squeezed Methos' hand reassuringly, "Me either."
"I want to be with you again," Methos said, his voice deep and husky.
"I want that too, but..." Duncan hesitated.
"But what?"
"You're married," Duncan's chocolate brown eyes met Methos' green gold ones. "It may sound stupid, but I can't make love to you until she's no longer between us."
"One of your Boy Scout rules?" Methos asked sadly.
Expecting an attack, Duncan reacted to the words instead of the emotion behind them.
"Yeah, I guess. Part of my code of honor, which you always make fun of. It's part of who I am. When are you going to respect that and what I feel!"
Duncan stormed out of the barge with Methos close behind him.
"I'm sorry," Methos began. "I just want you so much, and I do respect you, Duncan. Look at me." He waited until Duncan turned around to continue. "You are the most important thing in the world to me, and I love everything about you. I love your morals and ethics, even if they don't always go along with what I want."
"Even if they keep us from making love?" Duncan asked hopefully, a breathtaking pout on his luscious lips.
"Yes, because I know you want me as much as I want you," Methos said saucily, pulling Duncan's groin flush with his own, their burgeoning erections brushing. "Right?"
Finally realizing that Methos hadn't been deriding him or his decision, Duncan laughed deeply and pulled Methos tighter against him, "I want you more than I want my next breath."
"Breathe Highlander, I have a feeling it's gonna be a while," Methos said regretfully.
"I love you, Methos."
"I love you too, Duncan. Only you."
They stood banded together against the rest of the world and all the forces trying to pull them apart. They had suffered alone, but now they were back together, back where they belonged, and they would fight whatever battles they had to so they could stay that way.
***
From a judicious distance, prying eyes observed the two unaware Immortals. Rancorous and spiteful thoughts surged though the figure as the two men continued their embrace. That was well and good. Let them grasp each other while they could. Soon enough they would know. The day of reckoning was upon them, and there was hell to pay.
The end. For now.
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