Disclaimer: I don't own them, though sometimes I wish I did. The song "Once in a While" performed by Billy Dean was used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: Some sap ahead, wear your rubbers... :) no sex, no rubbers needed... :)
Beta read by the fastest red pen in the west, or is it midwest? Thanks Diana for everything, again. Any mistakes are mine, and I love them anyway...
Notes: So, it's been what, two months, since I added anything to my Futures Series? Well, this won't help. It's set in that universe but the events of this story happen about a year after the posted stories end. There should be a part three of that series soon. Well, sooner that this happened. :) You'll understand this better if you've read the other stories in this series. :) Did any of that make sense? :) oh well
Once in a While
Paris is the City of Lights. It's one of the most beautiful cities in the world, and I've traveled around enough to make that kind of declaration. Now, I know I'm a bit biased when it comes to Paris and its beauty, but can you blame me? Paris is the city where I first met Duncan MacLeod, where we first made love, where I discovered that I was in love with him and he with me. Paris is a magical place. It's also a place of great sadness for me and for him.
Roughly twenty-six years ago, I walked away from him and everything that mattered most to me. The short version is that I was protecting him and that I didn't have enough faith in myself to stay. The longer version involves Cassandra and my darkest years. Either way we were apart for twenty-five years.
About a year or so ago, I heard that Joe Dawson, my friend and Duncan's, had died. Even knowing that he was mortal didn't prepare me for the loss. I locked myself away in my office at home for two days, drinking and remembering the past. Elena cried and pleaded with me to open the door. I think she thought I was going to commit suicide. If only it were that easy. When I finally came out, I resigned my job and moved us to Paris. She never questioned my actions, just meekly complied.
What the hell was I doing with her, you're asking yourself. The short version? I made a promise to her father, and I never make promises unless I intend to keep them. Contrary to some people's opinions, I am a man of my word. So, here I am 'stuck' with this beautiful young woman who thinks the sun rises and sets in my eyes, and I'm moving us closer to damnation.
I knew MacLeod was still in Paris, and I didn't even need to hire a private detective to find that out. He's a creature of habit, a dangerous characteristic for an Immortal, but I think it's comforting to him to live in familiar places. I also think it keeps him living in the past, but I stopped trying to figure him out a long time ago.
One other thing about me that you probably know is that I'm a scheming bastard who will go to any lengths to get what I want. Well, almost any lengths. I knew going to the market near the quay where MacLeod kept his barge was just asking for trouble, but I couldn't help myself. I wanted to see him, touch him if possible. I wanted to know if he hated me, if there was any chance for us to be friends again. The hope that we could be lovers again was locked tight inside my heart, and I never let it see the light of day. It was too scary to contemplate without a fifth of whiskey under my belt.
And see him I did. Oh god, and I touched him, hugged him. I pulled his hard, sweaty body against my own, and my heart soared. It was everything I remembered and not nearly enough. Elena called to me, and I had to introduce her to Duncan. There's no word for the pain I saw in his eyes, and nothing for me to do to take it away. It wasn't the time for explanations, but I promised him I would. Soon.
And I did.
The road was rocky, but we built our bridge back together piece by piece, dodging every obstacle and heartache thrown our way. When all was said and done, we were back together. Stronger? Yes. Angry? Yes. Fights erupt a lot more often than they did before, but I know I'm never leaving him again. I only hope he knows that too.
***
Where does that leave us now? Well, it's Father's Day, and Duncan and I have come to the cemetery. Joe was the closest thing each of us ever had to a father, I know it's crazy considering all of our ages, but he was always there to listen and give advice, especially unsolicited. It seems only right to pay our respects together. We make separate trips around the holy ground. We have other lovers to visit and remember.
I stop by Alexa's headstone. It's been twenty-nine years since she graced my life with her presence. Memories flood through my mind, and I smile as I remember her laugh. She was the bravest person I have ever known.
Scanning the area, I see Duncan bowed over Tessa's grave. I can't decide at this moment if he is luckier than I am or not. I only had six months with Alexa, he had twelve years with Tessa. It could be argued either way, and we would each be right. Love is love no matter now long the gift was given and received.
He stands slowly, leaving a kiss behind for his special woman. Looking up, he catches me watching him, I see his eyes glisten, and I move towards him to offer what comfort I can. I take his hand and bring it to my lips. He offers a fragile smile, and we move toward our next stop.
Joe buried Richie with a simple headstone-Richard Ryan, Friend. Duncan's choice of wording on Joe's marker was just as eloquent--Joseph Dawson, He Watched Over Me. It hits me right in the heart every time I see it. I can't help but think of Duncan, alone, having to deal with the death of his best friend, and not having someone he could turn to in his grief. Joe had been more than Duncan's best friend, he had filled all the important roles in Duncan's life-father, brother, confidant-and now he was gone.
We kneel side by side, like altar boys, come to receive a blessing. What a simile that is. I feel Duncan squeeze my hand, and I know he's seeking the reassurance that I am here and real. He needs that constantly from me, and I'm only too happy to give it, even if he is a little overprotective.
"Joe," he starts, but his voice cracks.
"We miss you," I finish.
Duncan's deep brown eyes meet mine, and he just nods.
I look back at the headstone, feeling the need to ask for forgiveness from him.
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
"He forgave you," Duncan says softly, his voice thick," long before I did."
My eyes meet his again, and I know he is speaking the truth.
"He always said that one day you'd come back."
I have to chuckle at that. Joe could always read me better than most people.
"I hope he bet on me then," I say.
Duncan and I laugh together. Together. We are right where we were always meant to be, side by side. And I can hear the faint lines of a song run through my head.
Once in a while
I still hear his voice
That one in a million sound
Like two boys laughing
He would hate it if we cried
That never was his style
Oh, we still miss him
Every once in a while
"Come on, Duncan. Let's get some whiskey and remember Joe the right way. He'd hate it if we cried."
"He'd come back and kick our asses."
"Yeah, he would."
Oh, how I miss him
Every once in a while
The end.
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