DOS TOROS

DOS TOROS Title: Dos Toros
Author: Rimau
Email address: rimaufic@yahoo.co.uk
Date: June 1 1999 (revised February 2000)
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue.
Summary: Amanda's birthday party doesn't go exactly the way she planned.
Author's webpage: http://www.rimau.aeglos.org/

So, I promised I wouldn't start another one of these stories before I finished all the incomplete ones. I lied. This is something I've never tried before. I was watching Highlander with a friend of mine who used to live in Spain and she told me that she'd really like to see Duncan dance flamenco. A really hot, sexy dance, something they'd never show on TV. I giggled and added that I'd like to see him dance it with Methos. What can I say? This story forced its way out of me.
Thank you, Marja for the inspiration. Raonaid, without you, me write bad.
The best way to really enjoy this is to listen to some passionate guitar music and drink a glass of red wine while you're reading. This is just for fun.
Don't try to find any depth here. There is none. If you want Amanda to have a happy ending, go away.
It's written from everyone's POV. It changes in every chapter. Yes, I know you might find it a little annoying, but it's the only way this story works.
Don't take this one seriously

Dos Toros by: Rimau

If I survive this evening, I'm going to kill Richie. It's all his fault that I'm standing here, waiting for the music to start, waiting for the torment to begin.
Actually this dance is Amanda's idea. After all, she's the birthday girl and she has the right to choose the way we entertain her. But the original idea was Richie's. He wanted something special on his 25th birthday and we ended up having a Scottish night. No, I didn't organize it, my young friend did it all by himself.
It was quite fun, to tell the truth. We spent the evening at the dojo, dressed up in kilts, except for Amanda, of course. She was wearing something black and skimpy as usual. We'd all had instructions from Richie and the evening went smoothly. Joe had rented bagpipes and had learned how to play them. That was quite astonishing, actually, but not as astonishing as the duel the redhead had with Methos. He'd asked me to get two Claymores, and then he challenged the old man to a mock duel. It was good to see them both enjoy themselves, even though Richie didn't have a chance against Methos.
At least they both had fun.
Not as much fun as Amanda had, though. She'd been drooling over Methos ever since she first saw him in a kilt, and the fight, where sparks flew and kilts flowed around the fighters' thighs (showing us that both Methos and Richie had decided to wear the garments traditionally), just seemed to make her salivate even more.
After the fight came the embarrassing part of the evening when we all went upstairs to watch a video my former student had rented. Richie seemed to have fun watching my reactions to 'Braveheart'. So what if I got a bit misty eyed? To me the wars against the English bastards weren't just history and legends.
Methos apparently didn't care very much for the film, since he spent most of the time in the kitchen either making us more popcorn or washing the dishes. I made sure that no one questioned him about his lack of interest and his highly irregular behavior. We didn't talk about it in private either. Some things are best left alone.
Like I said, that evening was mostly a success, but it gave Amanda some ideas I wish she wouldn't have had. And now that it was her birthday, she wanted us to have a party where we did what she wanted, too.
Swell.
It was made clear to her at the beginning that the point of the party was to have fun, not to have some kind of sex orgy. My thieving friend pouted for a few days, but then admitted that it was probably for the best. She did have a mischievous glint in her eyes, though, and I found that alarming. Amanda has a twisted imagination and it was guaranteed that her party wouldn't be as innocent as Richie's.
Well, at least this time I didn't have to make haggis. But now that I'm looking into Amanda's burning eyes, feeling like a complete idiot, I wish my job could have been cooking.
Anything but this.

This is probably the best idea I've ever had.
Duncan is doing his best to look like a suffering little puppy, but this time it won't work. He won't be able to pout his way out of this. I've wanted this for a long time now, and I'm not going to back off.
There was a moment when I thought I should call this whole thing off or turn it into a joke. That moment passed when that gorgeous old man licked his lips after taking a swig of his beer. I'm going to have him in my bed even if it kills him!
I don't know what makes him so exciting. When I first saw him in his underwear, I didn't even notice his body. I was too upset about that threat Keane had made. Okay, when I saw him in a kilt, I was ready to pass on the haggis and have him as the dinner, and maybe even breakfast, but not just because of his looks.
Actually, he isn't all that handsome. Too angular in the face and a bit too big a nose for my taste. He does have great legs, but he's not a hunk like Duncan. The Highlander is a perfect specimen of masculinity.
Still there's something about Methos that really makes me tingle all over.
It must be his attitude. I've flirted with him for months, and he flirts right back, but even when he's complimenting me, he keeps his distance. It's like he's playing with me, trying to drive me crazy.
Poor, poor Methos. He might be the oldest of us all, but no one has yet mastered me in the game of seduction. I'm going to make him shed that calm exterior of his. And I know exactly how to do it. Give up, old man. You never had a chance.
I don't look at him; I keep my eyes on Duncan. He's looking uncomfortable, but I know that will change soon. He thinks this is all for show, but I know he can't keep his emotions out of this. Not when the dance really begins. He's got that little chauvinistic streak that makes him perfect for this kind of game. He won't just let someone else take 'his' woman. Oh, if I'd just hopped into bed with Methos, he would have smiled and wished me a good time. But not now. Not in these settings.
Like it or not, Highlander, you will fight for me. You will help me to get what I want.
I never said I want this to be easy. I don't. I want this to be hot, exciting, and when this evening is through, I don't want to be able to walk. Methos, you will definitely not sleep alone tonight. No, let me rephrase that, you won't sleep tonight.
This will be fun!

I have no idea what's going on here, but judging by the look on Amanda's face, it'll be great. She's one of the funniest people I know. Yeah, I know she's over twice Mac's age, but most of the time she seems to be even younger than I am. That's not all that bad. This way I don't feel like a stupid kid.
Mac is looking like he's facing a firing squad. Good. I'm really enjoying this. He's always so calm and composed. The older, wiser man. You know what? It makes me sick! It's really annoying to spend time with a guy who's done about everything there is to do, seen everything there is to see. I wonder if I'll be as irritating in four hundred years.
God, I hope not.
Amanda is looking like a cat who's just spotted a fat mouse. I wish I knew what's gonna happen. I glance at Joe, but he's not meeting my eyes. He's sitting on a chair, a few feet from me, and he's got this odd expression on his face. So, he knows something I don't. Okay, so he knows a lot I don't, but I'm talking about this dance of toros, or whatever this is called.
Maybe I should ask him what this is all about. Nah, maybe not. Everyone's really quiet and I don't want to break the silence. Actually, now that I think about it, this silence is really unnerving. Usually when Amanda's around, the old folks are always bantering. But not now. They just stare at each other. So I don't say a word.
I just have to wait and see.

I can see Amanda's chest heaving from up here. I know exactly what she's thinking, even though I doubt that the others do. Duncan is standing in front of her, looking utterly miserable, obviously wishing he was anywhere but here. He's not the only one. I can't believe Amanda would do something like this.
The idea of a party was a good one. We ate a lot and even drank a little, though I made sure I didn't have more than a bottle of beer. Then we gave the birthday girl her presents. Astonishingly enough she didn't want any jewelry or other expensive objects this time. No, she wanted something worse. A small performance from all of us. Some music, maybe a little dance or two. The last part was said with her sultry voice.
Her announcement made us all speechless. Then Joe stammered that it sounded good, but he wasn't ready to do the dance of the seven veils, not even for Amanda.
She laughed sweetly and kissed the Watcher's bearded cheek. Then she explained that even though she did want us to sing and dance, no one would have to strip.
We all sighed with relief. Too soon, as it proved to be.
I must admit I rather enjoyed the ballad Joe and Richie sang for Amanda. Joe is excellent with the guitar, and the kid has a very sensuous voice, even though he can't really follow a tune. After applauding, Amanda glanced at me and then turned to Duncan.
Her expression was enough to break me into a sweat. I'd seen that look before, but it had never been aimed at me. She looked at me like I was a jeweled necklace - something she wanted and was determined to possess.
As soon as I heard the name of the dance Amanda wanted to see, I knew we were in trouble. I'd noticed that she'd been looking at me with growing interest, but I never thought she'd do something like this.
Clever girl.
No one even asked me if I was familiar with that dance. I guess they automatically assume that I'm familiar with everything. They are usually right. But knowing about something doesn't mean that I can actually do it. Or that I'm willing to do it. This time I guess I have no choice but to do as the lady wishes. It's her birthday after all and I wouldn't even dream of denying her wish.
The Highlander didn't have such problems with etiquette and he objected loudly when he heard what he was supposed to do. He shouldn't have bothered. Amanda did some quick talking and Duncan gave up. As always. He's ready to start now, just waiting for the music. He glances at me and grimaces and I give him a nod. This is even more ridiculous than that fight with Robert de Valicourt.
I see Amanda shift her position and now she's openly admiring the Highlander's body. When she gets up and walks to the CD player, she glances at me from the corner of her eye. Then she turns to Duncan again. It's almost like she can't make up her mind about what she wants. Whom she wants.
Well, now. Maybe the evening will be more interesting than I'd thought.

Why is it so damn hot in here? It must be the candles she's put everywhere. I just hope I don't stumble into one and then burn my home to ashes. Amanda is fumbling with the CD player and I can feel everyone else staring at me. What? Haven't they seen a man in leather pants and a white shirt, waiting to make a fool out of himself, before?
This is so humiliating!
I know exactly what is going on in Amanda's head. I'm not blind after all. She's been acting even more outrageously ever since Richie's party. It's perfectly obvious what she really wants for her birthday present. Or whom actually. Tied to bed with a red ribbon.
I wonder if the old man knows what's really going on here. I bet he does. But then again he'd have to be blind not to see the lust in Amanda's every look, every gesture. And if that wasn't enough of a hint, her request certainly spilled the beans.
She's really devious. First she made the younger men sing and then she turned to look at me, smiling that damn smile of hers. She knows I can't resist it. Then she asked, "Have you ever heard of the fight of two bulls, Duncan?"
Have I ever heard of 'dos toros'? I should have screamed no, and ran to the door, but my pride kicked in once again in the most inappropriate place and I nodded. I'd spent decades in Spain and I'd been a dancer after all.
Amanda clapped her hands together and squealed that then I could dance it for her. She didn't even blink when I explained that it can't be danced alone. Two bulls, just like the name indicates. Two men dancing, fighting for a woman's favor.
Two men. In this case it's Methos and I.
I hate it when Amanda starts to play her little games. Why can't she just ask Methos to have sex with her? Or sneak into his apartment in the middle of the night and throw herself at him. No, she has to orchestrate something like this, to make him come to her. And if he wins this fight, he will grab her. I've witnessed 'dos toros' dozens of times and even participated in it twice. It's such a power trip, the winner will nail his prize to the mattress. Or the wall. Or the floor. Maybe even all of them.
I slide my hand into my pocket and pull out the hair string. The candles don't illuminate the room enough and I don't want my hair to blur my vision any further. This could get very nasty, even though I know exactly what I'm doing and the daggers are just for show.
Yes, daggers. This 'ritual' was invented when dueling was forbidden in Spain. If there were casualties, it could be explained that the dance just got out of hand. After all, no gentleman would be completely unarmed when in the company of others, and the daggers were 'just for show'.
I'm not going to use the one Amanda gave me and I'm certain Methos won't either. But one never knows what will happen during the dance.
Thank God I didn't drink all that much at dinner.
Amanda's walking back to her chair and I glance over my shoulder. Richie's standing by the stereo, waiting for Amanda's command to start the music. Joe is sitting next to him, an amused look on his face. Apparently he knows what's going on here too.
Methos is standing at the far side of the dojo, leaning against the wall and playing with his dagger. He's wearing his usual jeans and a white sweater, looking straight at Amanda with an enigmatic look on his face. I wonder how he'll react to this little play. He could do anything. I'm sure he's flattered about all this, though.
My friend clears her throat and I turn my attention back to her. I kneel down to kiss her hand and then walk back to the center of the room. Amanda waves her hand and then the music starts.

At least I didn't have to learn how to play bagpipes this time. And there's no haggis. For that I'm eternally grateful.
I know, I know, I'm overreacting again. From a Watcher's point of view, Richie's birthday was a feast, since I had the chance to observe my Immortal as what he basically is. A Scotsman. He grumbled about the kilt, he grumbled about the music, the fight, the food and finally he almost refused to come to the loft to watch the film. And he loved every minute of it.
I wrote over ten pages in his chronicle about that one night. There have been decades when his Watchers have gathered less information on him. Not bad. Unlike the haggis.
This evening might be even more interesting. I realized that something special would happen tonight the moment Amanda asked Richie and me to sing her a love song. She usually doesn't let anyone off the hook that easily. And now I know the reason for it. 'Dos toros'? I've never heard of it before, but considering the preparations she's made, I have a pretty good idea of where this whole thing is going.
Yes, now that I hear the music, and see my Immortal dancing in front of his friend, I'm positive I was right. This is another one of Amanda's little seduction scenes. She's always doing something like this when she comes to visit Mac.
But if I'm correct, Duncan MacLeod isn't the man she's after this time.

Whatever else happens here tonight, at least the whole evening won't be ruined.
The spectacle is wonderful. It's obvious that Duncan was reluctant to do this thing for Amanda, but now that it's actually happening, I can see that the Scot is loving the attention he's getting. Amanda really chose the music well. It's hot guitar music that is very rhythmical, very intense. Just the kind of music that brings passions to the surface. And Duncan MacLeod is a passionate man.
He's a marvelous dancer too. But he dances with skill, his booted feet stomping the floor, that muscled body twisting around perfectly to the music. His expression is neutral, and I can almost see him planning the next move, just like he's practicing in front of his teacher. There is no fire, no desire in the dance. He's just performing, just the way Amanda asked him to.
Should I just join the dance now and get it over with? A few minutes of tap dancing in front of Amanda and we're done. She can say that her plan worked out and we can all go home. In my case, I'll probably go to hers.
Worse things have happened.
Duncan is doing an interesting little strut across the floor and suddenly I feel this whole situation change. Everyone is staring at him, admiring the dance, but I find myself admiring him, measuring him as the man I'm supposed to fight against. I keep my eyes on him and after a few minutes I have to admit that he's a worthy opponent. Actually, I can't think of anyone else whom I would rather face in a 'fight' like this.
Oh, my. The flames of the candles throw shadows on his face, making him look dangerous, and I'm getting into the mood of this. That's probably what Amanda had in mind all the time. She knows exactly what MacLeod will do in given situations, but she couldn't have known how I'd react to this. I guess she was just hoping for the best.
Her plan is working. I love the way the Scot moves and I want to see more. I've seen him with his lovers before, but it has never been an open display like this, not even with Amanda. I want to see more. I want him to bring passion to his dancing.
Amanda wants to see us fight for her. Oh yes, she'll get what she wants.
But I'm not doing this for the reason she thinks. I'm planning on winning this, but not just to win the prize. It's not the goal I'm looking forward to. I'm going to enjoy the way there.
Before I can even think, I'm pulling my sweater off and then I'm stepping forward.

Step, step, a little hop. Then I think I'll snap my fingers and twirl around again. This is fun, but it's far from what they called 'dos toros'. I don't feel threatened by my opponent. In fact, I haven't even seen him yet. Apparently Methos isn't in a hurry. He's just waiting for me to exhaust myself.
There's no tension in the room. No sexual undercurrents. And I'm glad there aren't. It would be embarrassing to really fight with the old man for Amanda in front of Joe and Richie.
Actually this whole situation is questionable. We agreed no sex-spectacles, but this is awfully close to the line. Of course with Amanda there is no line. I guess I should be glad she didn't want to change the format of 'dos toros' from dancing to Greco-Roman wrestling.
I clap my hands together and then turn around, glancing at Amanda over my shoulder. She smiles at me, but then her eyes flicker to somewhere behind me. So, my 'opponent' has finally decided to join the dance? Good. This was getting a bit boring.
The first thing I see when I turn around is a white T-shirt gleaming in the light of dozens of candles. My gaze moves first down and then up to Methos' face. He has a mocking expression on his face and I feel a bit annoyed. It's almost like he finds this situation amusing. No, it's more like he finds me amusing. Damn that man!
What gives him the right to stand there and stare?
I stare back at him. He raises one eyebrow and then turns to look at Amanda. I hear her gasp as Methos' gaze slides over her body and then a small smile appears on his lips.
So, the old man wants to give Amanda a real show? I can do that, too. It takes just three long strides to cross the floor to him and I stop right in front of him, challenging him with my eyes. No words are necessary. This is a game, Amanda's little mind game, but even if I'm willing to let her have what she so desperately wants, I'm not going to give Methos the victory without at least the pretense of a fight.
Let's see what you can do, old man.

It worked better than I expected. MacLeod is glaring at me, challenging me to make a move.
I just step around him and walk to Amanda. She's staring at me with her mouth open. Duncan kissed her hand before starting to dance, so I guess I should do something too. I run my fingers down her cheek, bend down a little and whisper loud enough for her to hear me over the music, "My lady."
She opens and closes her mouth a few times and then an impish smile spreads on her face. "My lord."
Now that the formalities are dealt with, I can get to work. I strike a pose and look around the room. Then I sneer at Duncan and start to dance in front of Amanda. I've never done this particular dance before, but I know how to get a woman's complete attention on me. I don't have any illusions about my body, but I can work well with what I have.
I put my hand strategically on my hip and then take a few steps away from Amanda. I can almost feel her hot gaze on my ass. Then I turn around quickly and walk back to her. Even though my behind is now out of her sight, her eyes are still glued to me on the same level as before.
This is actually quite fun. Adam Pierson is designed to blend into the wallpaper and it's not often that women stare at me.
My hand moves up from my hip and I can see that Amanda is following its trail with her eyes. I don't linger too obviously on any part of my upper body, and finish the movement by running my fingers through my hair. Ignoring the soft sigh, I move to the center of the room and begin my own campaign.
The music is still steadily rhythmical and it's my turn to strut around while the others watch. I catch the look on Joe's face and can almost hear the 'I wish I had a video camera' out loud.
Dream on, Watcher.

That damn bastard is smiling. He knows that he has everyone's undivided attention and he's loving it. I must admit that he is very good at this, though. This is the side of Methos I've never seen. He usually looks so harmless, ordinary. Well, ordinary is far from the man who's moving across the floor, drawing everyone's eyes to him.
Maybe it's because he always wears that oversized coat, looking like he's really scrawny. He's definitely not looking scrawny now. His tight jeans look like they're painted on him and he wiggles his ass every time it's physically possible. How does he do that? I've never seen a man move like that. It's also amazing what those baggy sweaters can hide. Of course anyone whose life depends on the ability to wield a sword has strong arms, but I never realized just how muscled he is. No wonder Amanda is panting like she's just ran the marathon.
It's not just the old man's looks that make everyone stare. It's the way he acts. I've seen a few glimpses of this dangerous creature once or twice, but I never imagined that he could be like this!
His every move is calculated to keep Amanda staring at him. If he asked, she'd shoot me now without any hesitations. She might even leave the world of theft for him. For a week or so. He knows exactly what he's doing and he enjoys it. Who would have thought that he'd be such an exhibitionist?
Who would have thought Methos is so... sexy?
He's staring at Amanda again and... God! He's fingering the hilt of the dagger that sticks out from the waistband of his jeans. That little move isn't as innocent as one might think. Not when he has this unbelievably arrogant look on his face. He's challenging everyone to look at him. We're looking, all right.
He must be very careful if he wants to keep his private parts intact. Those jeans of his are so tight that he can't be wearing any underwear, and cold steel against warm skin must be really annoying. And stimulating.
What am I thinking? I should be jealous, thinking of how to beat him in this little 'fight', but instead I'm staring at him, enjoying the scenery and thinking about his skin. I turn to see how Methos' show is affecting my friend and shake my head. Amanda's drooling again. It seems like she's having the time of her life. She's not seeing anyone else but the old man.
I think it's definitely time to continue dancing.

There are two sets of footsteps here now. Oh good, MacLeod has decided to join me. I was beginning to worry that I'd gotten too rusty with this. If I couldn't make that hot headed Scot jealous, I wasn't doing a very good job.
Now it seems I still have my edge.
I turn to face him. He stands there, with both his hands resting on his hips. I smile and then mirror his position. When he taps the floor with his foot, I do the same. He raises an eyebrow and then does a very impressing move, snapping his fingers, his feet moving so fast it's hard to follow the steps. Hard, but not impossible. I copy his actions and then add a few moves of my own.
He takes up the challenge and for long minutes we try to out-dance each other. Duncan is a marvelous dancer, his body well trained, and I really have to work hard to keep this game interesting.
My shirt is clinging to my back, all damp with sweat. My lips are dry, and I have to lick them. I make sure that I'm facing Amanda when my tongue flickers out of my mouth. Oh, yes, that's it. She swallows hard and I can almost hear Mac growl. There's no trace of boredom in his movements now.
He's coming towards me, making it perfectly clear that if I don't step aside, he'll use me as a doormat. I smile and when he's right in front of me, I start to walk backwards. His right foot takes a step forward, my left one moves back. Then the same with the opposite feet. I continue my retreat until I almost have my back against the wall and then I stop.
He's very good. He must have anticipated my move and he stops at the same moment as I do. This way we don't bump into each other. We stare at each other for a moment. My mouth is slightly open, so I can control my breathing better, and I can see that the Highlander is panting slightly too.
I lower my head a little and then step forward. He retreats, just like I did a few moments ago. We move back towards the center of the room, where Duncan stops. He smiles a little and then steps to the side, so that he's now standing next to me. He walks around me in short, measured steps and when I feel his gaze on my face again, I lock my eyes into his and follow him. Our shoulders are touching, and I'm staring at him from the corner of my eyes.
We circle each other, measuring each other, trying to make the other one back off. It doesn't work. Our feet are stomping the floor in unison, the steps following the music.
This is hot. This is seduction.
Gods, this is insane!

I'm a Watcher, not a voyeur. I should leave now, before this goes too far, but there's no way I'm gonna be able to walk away from this. I've never seen the Immortals act like this before. They're pouring all sorts of emotions into this little display of testosterone and it's shocking to witness it.
I wish I could get this on tape.
Amanda is sitting on the edge of her chair, her eyes glued to the two men who are circling each other. I've never seen her blush before, but I don't wonder that her cheeks are on flames. Mine are probably, too. I don't think anyone could watch this unaffected.
Methos' hand moves to that nasty looking knife Amanda gave him, and I'm waiting for him to take a few more steps so that I can see if Mac is holding the hilt of his knife, too. The men move perfectly to the music and I shake my head slightly as my Immortal's hand comes to my range of vision. He's not only fingering the knife. He's pulling it slowly from under his belt.
Maybe it would be best if I went to the CD player and stopped the music. That way no one would get hurt. Except for me. I decide not to risk my life and stay put. If the old guys start to slice each other, at least they heal. Okay, I'm curious to see what will happen.
So, sue me.
The music stops abruptly and the two men freeze. Then another song begins. It's a faster one. Methos squints his eyes and his hand moves, almost too fast to see. I can see the result of that move, though. The knife cut Mac's sleeve.
The Highlander stares at his shirt and then steps closer to Methos, who doesn't back off, but moves a little to the side. They stand still, glaring at each other.
I take a deep breath. Even though I've been just sitting here for most of the evening, I feel exhausted. The tension between the two Immortals is tangible and I'm starting to sweat. It's getting very uncomfortable to sit here. I don't think anyone could watch this spectacle and stay perfectly calm. It's one... no. It's the most erotic thing I've ever seen.
Thank God they are concentrating on each other, and they aren't paying any attention to their audience. Otherwise this could get extremely embarrassing. I'm not attracted to the old guys, but that's beside the point. Erotic tension is erotic tension.
Now they're moving again, back and forth, glaring at each other. Duncan grabs the old man's shirt and slices it open horizontally. Then he takes a few steps backwards when Methos swirls around and manages to revenge his move by cutting Duncan's shirt open. I see the buttons fly to the ground.
The light touch on my shoulder makes me almost jump out of my skin, even though I know it can't be anyone but Richie. He bends down and then I hear a frantic whisper, "What the hell is going on here, Joe?"
Richie' s voice is choked and he's breathing hard too. I can feel his breath on my neck, making shivers run down my spine. After what I've been watching, any external stimulus would do the job. Yep, goosebumps all over my body. I turn my head a little and murmur, "Something none of us anticipated." That's for sure.
"Oh, man!" The young man sighs, sending another breath of warm air to the sensitive area just behind my ear.
As if this isn't difficult enough as it is. I wish he'd stop doing that.
He should also take his hand off my shoulder. I'm not doing this intentionally, but my body is definitely getting some ideas from what I am seeing, and it interprets Richie's touch as a caress. It must be all the wine I drank at dinner. Yeah, I'll just keep telling that to myself. I'm not actually excited about all this. It's that half a glass of wine I drank. The kid doesn't...
Oh, hell. He does. Excite me, that is. Damn!
I'm too old for this. If this 'dance' gets any more intense, or if Richie continues talking, I'm gonna have a heart attack and keel over!

I should have known they'd overreact and turn this into a real fight. Men!
In a way it's really flattering to see them lose all control. It does wonders for my self esteem. These guys are close friends, and the idea that they're now trying to slice each other into pieces over me is exhilarating. This is like an aphrodisiac. Two gorgeous, sexy men trying to out-macho each other in candlelight.
Life doesn't get much better than this. Bravo, Amanda. Happy birthday to me.
One thing annoys me, though. They're so immersed in this dance, that they're not trying to flirt with me anymore. The way Methos licked his lips just before Duncan tried to bulldoze over him made me want to jump him, and I really want to see something like that again. But they just stand there and stare at each other.
Hey, boys! I'm right over here!

I can't believe he destroyed one of my favorite shirts! I knew it was foolish to use these daggers, even as a decoration.
Methos' hand moves again, and this time I grab it and twist a little. Just enough to make him drop the dagger. I kick it across the floor and then toss mine after it. This is better.
He's staring at me again, but this time there's no laughter in his eyes. His pupils are dilated, and his gaze is burning into me. This whole situation is affecting us both more than I'd thought. What started as a simple game is now something quite different. I know that there's no way either of us can let the other one win. There's no backing out from this. We'll fight till the end.
No matter who wins, Amanda's going to have a hard time getting out of bed tomorrow.
My thought makes me blink. I'd completely forgotten her. I haven't paid any attention on her reactions to our actions, and I know for a fact that Methos hasn't either. We haven't been looking at anything else but each other for a long time now.
But if I'd forgotten her, why the hell am I doing this? Why am I pacing here with Methos, trying to win something that isn't really a competition? I knew when this thing started that I didn't want to sleep with Amanda tonight.
That's it! My God. I don't want Methos to sleep with her either. I want him to sleep with me.

Mac has a wild look in his eyes. He's just standing there, not making a move, and my eyes slide across his body. The small cut my knife made is already healed, and small rivulets of sweat are running down his chest. He's holding my wrist and now he's pulling me closer to him, grabbing my other wrist too. His body presses against mine as he twists my arms around my back, holding me perfectly still, and I can feel his bare chest against mine.
I'm having some trouble in concentrating on the reason for all this. I know that there are others in the room, but they're fading into the background. Even Amanda doesn't interest me anymore.
I knew I could make this dance hot and passionate, but I had no idea how hot. This is not just an imitation of a long gone ritual anymore. This is something much more dangerous. I don't know if Duncan knows it, but this whole thing has gone way out of our hands. I'm not sure I could stop this even if I wanted to.
And I don't want to.
A little squirming and I'm free. I move a little farther from Mac, and then start to circle him. He just stands there for a moment and then he moves, trying to grab me again. Oh, no. It's not that simple. I swat his hands away, glaring at him. My body moves back against his, but every time he tries to touch me with his hands, I step away.
Finally he realizes what I want him to do, and he clasps his hands together behind his back. I do the same and then thrust my hips a little, brushing myself against his groin.
It's a shock to feel his hardness against mine, even though I was kind of expecting it. What shocks me even more is the small groan that escapes his lips as he moves closer to me and slides his thigh between mine. I look into his eyes and see only desire. He doesn't give a damn about Amanda either.
I know I should feel bad for her, but I don't.
I want Duncan MacLeod more than I've wanted anyone in a long time. Sorry, birthday girl, I didn't plan this, but now that we've come this far, only one thing can stop me from spending tonight with him.
And you're not that good with a sword.

Oh, man. Oh, man. Oh, man!
I can't believe this is really happening! What the hell is happening here? I can't fucking believe my eyes!
I try to get a grip, but it's impossible. I've never seen anything like this before, and I've seen my share of erotic dancing and strip clubs. This is so different from anything I've ever witnessed, or even dreamed of. Here I am, watching my oldest friend and the oldest guy alive do some... stuff!
I don't even know what to call it. It's definitely not dancing anymore. It's not fighting anymore either. It's more like...
Oh, man! It's more like sex! I can't believe I'm watching this and even enjoying the show!
Feeling a little uncomfortable, I shift my position. It's good that I'm still holding onto Joe's shoulder, since any minute now I'm gonna faint!
It's hard to breathe and I think... Oh, man, I don't just think that I'm getting turned on here! My jeans are definitely too tight. This is not a good thing. This is sick! I'm getting a woody watching two guys dance.
I'm breaking into a cold sweat and hope Joe doesn't notice that I'm trembling here. That would be too embarrassing. I try to control my breathing, but I can't help panting a little. It's so damn hot in here!
The man in front of me fidgets a little and I almost yelp. Damn, he startled me! I glance down at Joe and I swear my heart rate doubles. His eyes are wide open and his face is red.
It seems I'm not the only one who's having trouble breathing.

My feet are turning into boiled spaghetti. I've never seen Methos look so hungry before, and the idea of being the reason for that hunger makes me burn. Not with shame, but arousal.
We're moving across the floor again, but this time it's not intimidating. We're swaying against each other, caressing, seducing. My sweaty palms make it hard to keep my hands clasped behind my back, but I must admit that the fact that only one part of our bodies are touching is more erotic than any groping could ever be.
It's erotic, but maddening!
At this point I wouldn't even notice if the music ended. I'm moving in measured steps, in the pace of my heartbeat, the sound that pounds in my ears. If we don't stop this soon, we'll give our audience the show of the century.
Audience? Oh, God, I'd completely forgotten Amanda!
I try to turn to glance at her, but as soon as my gaze leaves Methos' eyes, he grinds pelvis against me and I can't think of anything else but that hardness beneath the denim. The guilt for ruining this important day for one of my oldest friends disappears. Like I said, no one ever knows what happens during 'dos toros'. You win some, you lose some. In this case I'd say Methos and I are both winners.
Now it's the time for us to collect our prize.

The Highlander is moving his hips ever so slightly. This is torture. I want to shove him on his back, rip off his clothes and then devour him, but I can vaguely recall that we're not alone. I don't want to do this in front of an audience, mainly because I know that Amanda couldn't stay out of it and I want Mac to be mine. With all this erotic tension between us, I'm not ready to share him.
I don't give a damn about Richie and Joe. They'll find their way out by themselves. They might be a little shocked by this, but they're both adults. They'll get over it.
Duncan moves his head slightly to the side, and I interpret it as a sign to take this party somewhere private. I nuzzle the side of his face, tasting the salty skin, making my intentions clear. In case he didn't quite get the point by just feeling my arousal.
Then I dance away from him. He follows me without hesitation.
Oh, yes!

No!
No, no, no! This can't be true! I didn't plan this!
He's supposed to be wrapped around me now, but instead he's rubbing himself against Duncan. And it seems that Duncan has no objections. On the contrary, when Methos takes a step away from him, he just follows him, making sure that their bodies are glued together.
Oh, damn! How did I never see this before?
I move a little, wondering how they'd react if I joined them. A nice little threesome might be even better than just a roll in the hay with Methos. The thought slips away from my mind when I see the possessive look on Methos' face. The boys don't have their swords with them, but I'm certain that the old man will kill me with his bare hands if I even try to interfere.
Duncan is pushing the old man into the elevator now, and when Methos is inside, he steps in too and pulls the wooden gate down without even looking back. The elevator is slow to get moving, and I can clearly see my Scottish friend grab Methos' shirt. Then the torn garment falls to the ground as the man I was supposed to have in my bed tonight pins Duncan against the wall.
This is so unfair!
I need to get out of here before I start tearing this place to pieces.

The music stops. I can hear very clearly the faint 'clang' when the elevator stops at the loft and briefly wonder if the old guys got out of it before getting down to business.
Probably not.
The quick footsteps startle me and I turn to see Amanda rush out of the dojo. The door slams closed behind her and now I start to wonder how the hell am I going to get out of the dojo?
If only Richie would leave too. I don't want him to notice how that dance has affected me. He'd probably think that I'm some sick old pervert, who gets turned on by watching his friends dance. He'd be right, except for one thing. The dance was exciting, but it was that soft touch on my shoulder that really made my evening.
Now his hand is removed from my shoulder and I hear the young man sigh. The small sound makes me shudder.

I take a deep breath and stagger to the nearest candles. "I..." Oh, man! I sound like a damn teenager! After clearing my throat I continue, "I'd better put these out." At least this time my voice doesn't break.
Joe doesn't answer me, but I definitely don't turn to look at him. In a way I'm glad that Amanda's left, but I can't help thinking that if she'd stayed, I could have helped her to celebrate her birthday. Yeah, I know I'm not as experienced as Mac or Methos, but I'm a very enthusiastic learner.
I try not to think about that and bend down to blow out another candle. I have to shift a little to accommodate a certain member that hasn't gotten the idea that the party's over, and the soft gasp almost escapes me. "Joe? Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I think I'll go now. I assume you'll get home on your own." The Watcher's voice is huskier than usually.
I glance over my shoulder and notice that he's looking extremely uncomfortable. He's also looking at a part of my body that is definitely lower than my eyes.
Joe? Checking out my ass? Staring at me just the way I'd been staring at Mac and Methos. Staring me like Mac had been staring Methos. Oh, my... I'm ready to faint when I realize that I'm not bothered by the idea of him looking at me that way. Not bothered? Actually I'm flattered. Even a little excited. A little? Understatement time.
Joe? Me and Joe? Am I insane? Am I considering, I mean, really considering having... um... sex with Joe?
Me and Joe. Mac and Methos. What the hell!
"Actually you could give me a ride home."
He blinks a few times, obviously trying to figure out why I'm asking for a ride when I have my motorcycle right outside the door. It's probable that he'll refuse if I don't make a move, like now and I clear my throat. "Um, or you could take us both to your place. If you want to, that is."
I turn around so he can see the reason for the question. His eyes linger somewhere below my waist and then he smiles. "Why not? Let's go."

The End
Like I said, just a pointless little story. Okay, so it was cruel to do this to Amanda, but just remember the final scene in 'Forgive Our Trespasses'.
Yeah, I thought you might see it my way.
June 1999 (revised February 2000)