Falling Is Like This

Methos stepped out into the rock garden and was rewarded with the strong Presence of his lover. He smiled and advanced forward.

Leisurely, he wandered along the path until he spotted the Chinese beauty standing next to the reflecting pool.

Gracefully, Ling moved through a Kung Fu form. Her limbs moving languidly and without resistance.

Methos sat on the edge of a large flat rock and watched.

Gods above, she was gorgeous.

Her long hair was braided down over one shoulder and her dark eyes were focused on some distant point while her slender body moved with an elegance that drew the ancient's attention to her smooth skin.

Instantly his memory conjured up the feeling of how soft that skin was, silky smooth under his fingers.

Methos sighed. He was falling in love with her. After knowing her for over three thousand years. After being her friend, confidante, co-conspirator, support system...occasional lover...

After being a thousand different things to her, and she to him, they'd entered a new territory. They were falling in love. And Methos was still struggling with the new emotions that Ling had brought The passion, the love, and the fear.

Ling stopped moving and turned to face him.

Their eyes locked and Methos felt his world shake with the impact.

He felt out of control, like he and Ling were in free fall. It was exhilarating, and terrifying.

Ling had felt the other Immortal's approach but she hadn't been alarmed. She knew that it was most likely Methos and even if it wasn't, her home was built on Holy Ground. It was her sanctuary and she wouldn't leave until she wanted too. No one, mortal or Immortal, could make her.

Well, one Immortal could...

Ling watched Methos out of the corner of her eye as she practised, watched the look in his eyes, the expression on his face...After knowing him for over three millennia, Ling was more than familiar with her elder's mind. So much so, that she often felt as though she could read his very thoughts.

But Ling didn't need that familiarity to tell her what Methos was thinking.

He was thinking about the same thing she was.

When had it happened? When had she begun falling?

Ling had always prided herself on her emotional control. It had kept her alive for over four thousand years and had kept her from making detrimental mistakes in those years. Mistakes that would have broken her heart. Or someone else's.

Yet, seemingly overnight, her legendary control had failed her.

Methos had dropped in for a surprise visit to help her settle into her new home. Just as he had done before. When he'd arrived he'd only intended to stay for a few days. Those days had stretched into weeks and those weeks were now stretching into months.

She finished her workout and turned to face him completely.

Looking into his eyes, she felt her heart begin to race.

She knew it was crazy. Falling in love with another Immortal was asking for trouble. Very risky business.

In all her four thousand years Ling had never allowed herself to love one of her own kind. She couldn't make herself take the chance. Oh, she'd had Immortal lovers, Methos included. But she'd never loved them like she'd loved the mortal men she'd married. She just couldn't trust that much.

Loving someone who could one day kill her...It had never been a leap of faith that Ling had been willing to make.

Yet, that was exactly what she was doing. She knew the possibility, though remote, was there. That she and Methos would one day end up crossing swords. It had happened to other Immortal couples and she knew, if they weren't careful, it would happen to them. And that thought terrified her. Not that she would die...But the thought that she would have to kill someone she loved...That terrified her above all else.

Ling smiled softly and started to walk to Methos.

She knew the risks but she could no more stop loving Methos than she could cut off her own head.

Methos held out a hand and Ling placed hers in it, allowing him to pull her down onto the rock with him.

"Finished for the day?" Methos asked, tucking a stray strand of her hair away from her face.

Ling nodded. "What were you thinking about?"

Methos smiled slightly. "When?"

"When you walked up, you had this odd look on your face." Ling tilted her head slightly, appraising her lover. "Thinking deep thoughts again?"

"Yes. I was thinking about us." Methos responded honestly. After knowing each other as long as they had, Methos and Ling no longer even attempted to lie to each other. Both could see through it. "How this happened?" As he spoke, he traced a finger along her jawline.

Ling smiled. "I've been thinking about it too." Her smiled turned wicked. "Who would've thought that the barbarian I met some three thousand years ago would somehow manage to steal my heart."

Methos laughed. "Barbarian? Watch who you're calling a barbarian, woman."

"I am watching you..." Ling leaned forward, gently brushing her lips against his. "Very, very, closely."

Methos' eyes wandered over Ling's delicate features, drinking them in. "How did this happen?" He questioned. "When did we let this slip by?"

Ling shook her head. " I don't know." She smiled. "I have been alive four over four millennia and never, in those four thousand years, have I loved one of our kind...Until now, yet..."

"Yet, you can't stop feeling it." Methos finished with a nod.

"Nor do I want to..." Ling rested her head against Methos' shoulder. "It's like we're falling..."

"Out of control." Methos agreed, rubbing his cheek against her satiny hair.

"So, what do we do?" Ling asked, her breath warm against his neck.

Methos felt a shiver go through him at the sensation, he took a deep breath and forced his desires under control. "The only thing we can do...enjoy the ride for as long as we can."

Ling straightened up and looked at him, her eyes serious. "Which brings us to another topic."

Methos did his best to look innocent. "What topic?"

Ling raised an eyebrow. "You know full well what I'm talking about. What happens if one of us is challenged?"

Methos sighed heavily. "Ling, we are Immortals. We fight in The Game." He hesitated. "Believe me darling, I'm sorry I can't help you, I cannot keep you safe." He chuckled wryly. "I'm sorry I can't help myself. We just have to treasure every moment we can." He ran a finger down her tiny nose. "And, speaking of treasuring..." He leaned forward, capturing her lips in a warm, increasingly passionate, kiss.

Ling smiled lazily. "Explain to me how you can completely knock me off track and topic?"

Methos' answer was mumbled against her skin." Because I'm very old and very wise."

Ling laughed and gripped his shoulders, pushing him back slightly. "For starters, my love, you are only a little over two centuries older than I am and as for your wisdom?" She snorted. "The only wisdom you've been spouting lately comes from the music you hear at Joe's club...That and Queen."

"Helps me keep the Boyscout's head on straight. Someone has to do it." Methos stood and scooped Ling into his arms. "Now, let's forget about Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod and concentrate on a more pressing issue."

"And what issue would that be?" Ling asked with a laugh, wrapping her arms around Methos' neck and resting her head on his shoulder.

Methos' responding chuckle was low and full of promise.

Cradling his precious cargo against his chest, Methos picked his way through the garden and into the house.

He didn't put her down until he reached the bedroom, where he laid her gently down on the bed.

Picking up Ling's hairbrush, Methos sat next to her and slowly unbraided her gleaming black hair.

Ling's eyes slid half-shut as he slowly began running the brush through her hair.

"You keep this up," She murmured sleepily. "And I'll be down for the count."

Methos set the brush down and eased her hair aside. "Well, we can't have that. I much prefer you awake and lively." He dropped a few kisses along his love's neck.

Ling turned to face him, her dark eyes warm and hazy. "And I much prefer being awake and lively." She pulled him to her and kissed him hungrily.

"Mmmm...Very lively." Methos noted as Ling pulled him down on top of her.

Much later that evening, Methos and Ling lay curled together in their bed, Ling sleeping peacefully in Methos' arms.

Methos, however, was wide awake and thinking.

His earlier conversation with Ling was echoing around in his mind. And one thing in particular was sticking with him.

What happened if one of them was challenged? What if it was Ling? What if...

His throat constricted and his mind refused to finish the thought. He'd lost too many friends and lovers over the previous century. He wasn't ready to face losing another one.

Especially not Ling. He couldn't stand the thought of losing Ling. Not after having her in his life to varying degrees for over three thousand years.

Methos lightly brushed his fingers down Ling's sensitive throat.

In her sleep, the beautiful Immortal shivered slightly and snuggled down under the covers.

Methos looked at her, love and fear warring for control in his eyes. He knew that the possibility existed that their relationship would end in agony. Ling knew it too, they'd discussed it more than once.

They were going into their relationship with their eyes open. Whatever happened, happened.

If there was anything their combined experience in the Game had taught them, it was enjoying every day, every year...every century. They'd learned to live every moment as if it were their last. And as Immortals...that possibility was there.

Ling shifted in his arms and murmured something in an ancient dialect, the language of her birthplace.

Methos tightened his grip on her and forced his mind onto more pleasant thoughts...Like the nicknames the Watchers had bestowed upon himself and Ling.

The ancient Immortal smiled. Ironically enough, the nicknames were aliases they'd both used. Adam and Eve. The two oldest Immortals.

Ling opened one eye and smiled at him. "Methos, will you stop thinking so loud and go to sleep."

"Thinking so loud?" Methos raised a skeptical eyebrow. "My darling, the last time I checked, you were an Immortal. Not a telepath. How could I possibly be thinking too loud?"

Ling opened her other eye and sat up, ignoring Methos open appraisal of her nude form. "It's quite simple, my love, when you are thinking, your breathing changes. Anyone who knows you can hear the difference."

"If you get close enough." Methos agreed. He hesitated then reached out to touch her face. "Like you did."

Ling smiled and turned in to his touch.

Looking at her, Methos spoke.

He spoke words of endearment, words of love.

He spoke in a language he couldn't even remember learning.

Yet somehow, he knew, Ling understood. The look in her eyes told him that.

It didn't matter, Methos knew that, with everything in him, he knew.

It didn't matter if he or Ling lost their heads in a week or in a millennia. It didn't matter when they died.

They only thing that mattered was the times he held Ling, loved Ling...treasured her as she loved, held and treasured him.

They were falling. Toward what...They couldn't be sure. But they were falling.

Fighting their feelings was like trying to fight gravity...Impossible.

So, it was better to just let themselves fall...And enjoy the ride while it lasted.

That was all they were guaranteed...And for them, for that moment, it was enough.

Falling is Like This

Ani deFranco

You give me that look that's like laughing

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The Lyric Wheel. Which this story was written for.