Couch Potatoes 2 

 Lisa Martin

 

            "I'm bored." Methos stretched himself lazily on the couch.

            "Oh, and why is that?" MacLeod looked over his shoulder at his lover.

            "Nothing happens around here.'' His voice sounded suspiciously like a whine.

            MacLeod grinned and sat down on the couch. "I thought the place saw some very nice action last night."

            Methos threw him a suffering look. "Maybe. But because that damned couch is still broken we can't get any real action."

            "We can try the floor," Mac suggested, knowing what the answer would be.

            "No thanks, got enough carpet burns to last me a lifetime." Methos pulled a face when he saw the Scot grin. "And now I'm getting predictable, what ever next?"

            "I don't know," Mac shrugged, still grinning. "I suppose the bed is out of the question."

            Methos' eyes narrowed and Mac could see the wheels turning, already dreading the outcome of that process. "We could try to get them out of there." He gestured at the adjacent room.

            "I gather you've got a plan to accomplish that?"

            "Not yet, but I'm working on it." Silence ruled for long moments, and Mac was getting impatient.

            "Anything I can do to help?"

            "Huh? Oh yes, you can get me a beer."

            Mac rolled his eyes, wondering why he even asked. He stood up and headed for the refrigerator. Opening it, he grabbed a bottle and threw it at Methos.

            "Catch!"

            Startled, Methos managed to catch the bottle just before it hit him in the face. "This your idea of a joke, MacLeod?" he cried out.

            "Just keeping you on your toes. You're getting rusty."

            "And who's fault is that??" Methos shot back. "We can't practice in here, as you well know."

            "Aye, I know. And there's no stories about us either." Mac took another beer and sat down again on the end of the couch.

            "She's lazy," Methos grunted.

            "You know that's not true! But I thought you hated those stories?" Mac peeked from under his eyelashes at the man who lay sprawled on the couch. He knew by experience that that look could get him anywhere.

            "That's right. I do!!"

            "Then why are you complaining?"

            Methos sighed, knowing he was cornered. And he didn't like it. "I'm bored, that's all."

            Mac shook his head, smiling. They had come full circle. "So," he said, settling himself against his lover. "What kind of plan have you come up with?"

            "Now you're talking," Methos grinned. "Well, I thought since we aren't getting any stories here, maybe we could persuade her friend to write one."

            "Uhuh, go on." Mac nuzzled Methos' neck.

            "MacLeod, I can't think when you do this!"

            "That's the idea." The nuzzles became kisses.

            Methos grabbed the Highlander's shoulder and pushed him away. "First let you tell me what I have in mind, then you can go on. And don't give me that sad puppy look!" he added, only half succeeding in hiding his smile. Damn, this man could turn him to mush with a mere look, he thought to himself.

            "Okay," Mac shrugged.

            "As I said we should get her friend to write one. Maybe a sequel to the one she wrote some time ago."

            "The one with Ray?" Mac's smile became wicked.

            "Yes," Methos nodded. He waited impatiently for a reaction to his idea. When none came he shook Mac. "Hey, you're falling asleep on me?"

            "As I do every night," Mac quipped. He dodged the blow neatly, grinning widely. "The idea is good, only you're a little late."

            "Late??"

            "Aye, I already suggested that to her." To call Methos' reaction stunned would be the understatement of the year.

            "You did? When?"

            "When I went to her house."

            "Oh, when you…you what???"

            MacLeod had the grace to look slightly guilty. "I went to her to solve the situation between Ben and Ray."

            Understanding dawned. "So it's you who is responsible for us getting stuck on this damned couch?" Methos' stare became darker.

            "I guess I am." Another attack followed and soon the two were wrestling on the couch. Methos, having the advantage of the surprise, soon had MacLeod outmanouvered and was sitting on top of him.

            "You stupid Scot!! You couldn't leave it alone, could you?? Nooo, you just had to interfere again!"

            MacLeod saw the annoyance in the hazel eyes, and knew it for the fake that it was. "I was worried about Ray."

            "Why? He was having fun!"

            Mac sighed deeply. "Yes, he was, but you know as well as I do that he doesn't belong with us. I merely set things right."

            "Leave that to the other boy scout," Methos grunted. "It's his job to make things right again, not yours."

            "He was no help…

 

            "Well excuse me!! Who's he to talk??"

            Lisa started, her hands still on the keyboard. It caused an unidentifiable string of letters on the screen. She quickly hit the backspace button, erasing it. "Sam Beckett!" she gasped. "Give me a heartattack, why don't you?"

            "Sorry," the man standing next to her muttered. "But I won't take any insults from him!"

            "What do you have against MacLeod?" Lisa asked, wondering whatever she had done now.

            "Nothing, usually. But he is accusing me of not doing my job!" One glance at Sam and Lisa realized that he was truly insulted.

            "Well, Sam, I hate to admit it, but this time he is right. You didn't lift a finger." She got a dark stare for that, but wasn't in the least bit intimidated. Sam Beckett, she could handle, even an angry one.

            "I was busy," Sam grunted.

            Lisa laughed. "Oh yeah, I should say you were! Look Sam, no one is blaming you for taking some time off. God knows you deserve it. That's why Duncan stepped in."

            "He doesn't have to be so presumptuous about it!" In true Beckett spirit, Sam wasn't about to budge.

            "He isn't. Just showing off to Methos."

            Sam pondered that statement for a moment, then a grin broke on his face. "Challenging him, huh?"

            "Something like that," Lisa nodded, hoping that it would never come to a real challenge between those two.

            "Okay, I can live with that, I suppose," Sam shrugged.

            "You're gonna have to, I'm not changing one letter!" Not this time, Lisa thought grimly. "And now get out of my sight, I have a story to finish!"

            "Yes Ma'am! On one condition."

            "And that is?"

            "I want to read that story before you send it to Agnes."

            "How the hell did you know I was going to do that??"

            Sam merely grinned and walked out of the living room. Lisa sighed deeply, looking wearily at the computerscreen. "They're figuring me out, and I don't like that, not one bit!" she muttered under her breath. Putting her fingers back on the keys she began to type again.

 

            "He was no help," Mac smirked. "Too busy with something else."

            "So you decided to come to the rescue," Methos stated. "Mac, could you mind your own business for a change?"

            "And what business would that be?"

            Methos actually had to think about that. "Me," he said in the end.

            Mac laughed out loud. "Predictable…." he teased.

            Another wrestling match followed, the couch creaking dangerously.

            "Hey guys, will you stop that!" The shout came too late. With a loud crack the couch finally gave up the fight and collapsed.

            "Ooops," Methos emerged from under 200 pounds of Scottish Highlander. "I think we are in trouble."

            "You think???" Mac barked, struggling to get to his feet. "It's not funny!" he shot at Ray who stood slumped against the door frame, howling with laughter.

            "What is happening?" Fraser appeared next to his lover. He took in the mess the two Immortals had created and tried desperately to contain his laughter. "The couch is broken," he stated. It caused another bout of laughter from Ray, who by now was sitting on the floor.           

"Will you cut it out!!" MacLeod was really angry now. "Who is going to explain this mess?" He gestured at the remnants of the couch.

            "Not me," was Methos prompt answer. "No MacLeod, serves you right for teasing me."

            "Oh, it's my fault, is it now??" MacLeod whirled around to face his lover.

            "Yes."

            It was more than Mac could take. He launched himself at Methos, who merely stepped aside. Mac went sailing through the room and came to a halt against a cupboard. Hard. He landed on his butt on the floor, the contents of the cupboard falling on top of him.

            "Oh no!!" Ray was on his feet in a second. "If something will get you into trouble it's this." He picked up an item from a dazed Duncan MacLeod and held it up. "Her videotapes."

            Silence ruled for a few moments. "Uhoh," Methos said finally. "Now that is trouble. Come on, Duncan, stand up. We have to clean this up before she gets home."

            "No," the Scot replied. "Get this stuff off me and put it back where it belongs. I am not moving one inch. You caused this, you clean it up."

            "I caused this??" Methos was outraged. "You didn't have to attack me!"

            "You dinna have to taunt me!"

            Fraser sighed, and exchanged a glance with Ray, who shook his head. "I am not gonna put all those tapes back," he said in a determined voice.

            "Ray, it doesn't look like they are going to do it."

            "You just want to suck up to her!" Ray shot back. Fraser's face darkened.

            "That is not true, Ray. I merely don't want to cause any more trouble."

            "You didn't do this! Let those kids do it."

            "Kids!!" The outcry came in stereo.

            Ray shrugged. "I don't care how old you two are. You're behaving like kids." A wicked smile appeared on his face. "Besides, we only have your word for it that you are as old as you say you are."

            "Ray," Fraser cautioned.

            Ray winked at him and continued, "I mean, for all I know you two could be well.." he shrugged, "the same age as Benny and me."

            "Which qualifies you as kids too," Methos shot back.

            "Don't change the subject," Ray retorted. "Well wadda you say? Can you prove your age? I don't suppose you have an ID."

            Methos and MacLeod exchanged glances. Methos sighed, shaking his head. From the gleem in his eyes, Mac could tell he was actually enjoying this. He let out a sigh of his own, it would probably take his entire lifetime to figure Methos out.

            "We have ID's, but those won't tell you anything," Methos began. He reached into his jeans pocket and produced his wallet, taking out a card. "Look," he said to Ray, who walked over and took the card. It was a standard ID card, nothing special about it, made out to a Adam Pierson.

            "This says you're 28," Ray remarked.

            "Yes. A proper age for a grad student." Methos frowned. "I should alter this, time to take on a new persona. The grad student routine has worn itself out."

            "What this time?" MacLeod asked. "Back to medicine again?"

            "Maybe," Methos shrugged. "Have to think about that."

            "Medicine?"

            Methos grinned at Ray. "I have been a doctor several times in my lifetime."

            "Yeah right!" Ray drawled, not ready to give in yet.

            "How old are you, exactly?" Fraser cut in. This teasing match was just the perfect opening for him to ask a question that had been on his mind for a while.

            "Old enough to have seen the Egyptian farao's," Methos smiled.

            Fraser did a quick calculation in his head. "That makes you more than 3000 years old!"

            "Older."

            "Benny, don't believe everything he tells you," Ray remarked. "And you?" he adressed MacLeod.

            "A lot younger than Methos, but still around 400 years."

            "Almost 406, a mere babe in the woods compared to me," Methos teased. He received a scowl from MacLeod for that. "Predictable, Mac."

            "Prove it," Ray demanded.

            This time Methos didn't give a witty comeback. His face turned very serious and he seemed to be concentrating on something. Finally he spoke up. "I haven't done this in a long time, but I can try." He moved towards Ray until he was about two feet away from him. "Are you sure you want to know?"

            "Yes," Ray said, knowing instinctively he was going to get the proof he asked for. This was no longer teasing, this was serious. "Yes, I'm sure," he repeated.

            "Okay." Methos placed his hands on Ray's face, his fingertips on the temples. "Now concentrate."

            Ray did as he was told and closed his eyes. Immediately he began to see things, images, that whirled around for a moment, then focused. He saw pyramids, then men fighting, pictures of a barren landscape, faces and then… He gasped. Methos moved his hands away from his face.

            "Convinced?"

            "Yes," Ray whispered. "But that last thing….."

            Methos gave a shrug. "Couldn't help myself. Please, do not tell what you just saw."

            "I promise."

            "Good. Now, what are we going to do about this mess?"

            "You clean it up." MacLeod was nothing if not stubborn.

             Fraser sighed deeply and started to pick up some of the tapes that lay scattered over the floor.

            "Benny!!"

            Fraser opened his mouth to answer, but was cut short by the front door opening.

            "Hi guys!" A shocked pause. "What the hell happened here??"

 

 

THE END

 

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