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NOVEMBER, 1992...
Tessa looked at Duncan. "Very well, enough with your games. I cannot make herb stuffing without herbs de Provence."
She opened a cabinet and then slammed it quickly. "Merde! What have you done with the bread? Duncan? The bakery is closed. What am I going to do?"
The immortal held up his hands. "I swear, Tess. I didn`t touch any of it." He moved to take his lover in his arms.
"What? Again? Don't you two ever do anything else?"
The couple turned to look at Richie The redhead took a huge bite from the sandwich he'd made. From Tessa's special bread.
Drawing herself up she stalked towards the youth. But stopped several feet away. She sniffed. Again. Bread was forgotten as she theatrically whacked herself on the forehead. "Mon dieu."
"What?"
"Richie. Richie, has smoked my herbs. Eaten my bread. I do not dare to think what he has done to the bird."
"Ewww. Tessa!"
NOVEMBER, 1993...
Duncan MacLeod was drunk. Very drunk. He'd dumped the plate of food Charlie had brought. And left it.
So. Doesn't matter. Messes don't matter when you're alone.
God, he missed Tessa.
He stared at a blob of cranberry sauce. It looked like--blood. Yeah. Blood.
Hadn't he seen enough of that.
Reaching out, he ran a finger through the mess. Sticky like blood, too. Duncan smeared it on his mouth. On his cheeks. Without thought he went to his knees. Sobs built up.
He had cried. He had. But he hadn't truly mourned.
Until now.
NOVEMBER, 1994...
"Amanda?"
"Hmmm…" The immortal woman was splayed on the couch in a most attractive and sinfully seductive pose.
"Amanda, where are the mashed sweet potatoes?"
"What?"
"Sweet. Potatoes. Casserole. Remember, we're going to Joe's later?"
"Of course, darling, I remember. That's why I'm doing this facial."
"Facial?" The Scot froze. No. She couldn't… He turned from the refrigerator and walked around to look at his sometimes-lover.
Amanda felt eyes on her, looked up. Duncan was leaning over her. She watched, fascinated, as he drew closer. Licked her nose.
"MacLeod! That's gross!"
"No, Amanda. That's dinner."
November 1995...
Alexa looked around the grand old house. Adam said Duncan restored it for Dr. Lindsey. Well, Dr. Lindsey's baby. That definitely wasn't Duncan's.
She frowned. But, they made such a cute couple.
"Adam, could I have some wine, please?" She was tired. More tired than she wanted to admit. The flight had taken a lot out of her. But Adam had promised Duncan they would be here.
She had promised Joe.
Later…
Alexa woke from her impromptu nap. She looked over at Joe. He had the baby. Both were asleep. Anne was curled up next to them.
Richie listened to the TV with the headphones on. Football?
Alexa rose and passed behind his chair. Football.
Her hand was on the kitchen door when she heard a giggle. Two giggles. One she identified instantly. Adam. And since there was only one other person in the house.
"Mac, stop that." Sound of a slap, more giggles.
Alexa eased the door open. The two men stood across the counter from each other. A pumpkin pie between them. Adam was armed with a can of whipped cream. For the pie.
Except that MacLeod was undecorating as fast as Adam was decorating. Smiling and shaking her head, Alexa started forward.
Just as the Scot reached out with a fingerful of whipped cream and smeared it on Adam's face. Then pulled the other man across the counter to lick and kiss his face clean.
Adam let him. Adam seemed to be--no, Adam was--enjoying every second of it.
Alexa quickly backed out of the doorway.
Well. She grinned to herself. Now she could make her little confession.
She had felt terrible, letting Adam think Marie, their tour guide in New Orleans, had been performing CPR.
NOVEMBER, 1996...
"It was bizarre, Joe. I mean, I've seen a lot of stuff dealing with her. But…"
The Watcher lay the curiosity on the bar.
"This the only one?"
"Uncharred. The others disintegrated"
"'Kay. Thanks."
The man shivered. "Not a problem."
Joe waited until he was alone to examine the--thing. It had been made from a vegetable.
Unusual. A sweet potato carved into the likeness of a man.
Fortunately, Cassandra's Watcher had no idea the immortal witch had made a voodoo doll of Adam Pierson. Sighing, he looked at it for a moment. Then filled the hole in the manikin's chest with a melted marshmallow.
Couldn't hurt, could it?
NOVEMBER, 1997...
Excerpt from Adam Pierson's journal…
American Thanksgiving Day. Turned down Joe's invite. He sent
Estelle with a care package.
Pigeons love pecan pie.
NOVEMBER, 1998...
"Mac, I'm sorry you got killed."
"Again."
"Yeah."
Duncan grinned. "So, let's not do that any more?"
"No. No dying. Either of us."
"Okay."
The two men quietly held each other for a while. It had been just a few days since O'Rourke had tried for the Highlander. A few days since the Scot realized how much Methos meant to him.
Thank you, Fitz, Duncan thought.
"Hungry, Mac?"
For you. "What are you offering?"
"Um?"
"You were slicing pineapple when I came in."
"Yes. For the ham. Thanksgiving at Le Blues Club. Joe's newest tradition."
"So, you finish that while I order Italian?"
"As long as you're paying."
Later…
"You didn't order dessert."
"So sorry. Want me to go get…"
"Wait. I have--something." Methos got up and went into the tiny kitchen while Duncan made himself comfortable. And naked. He grinned, imagining what his soon-to-be lover would say.
"Duncan."
"Methos!"
"You…"
"No, you…"
"You like?" Methos grinned as he sauntered--carefully--over to MacLeod.
"Yes. Yes. I have to say that's definitely the most creative way I've ever been served pineapple rings."
"I aim to please."
"Ah. Thank you."
End
Originally posed a long, long time ago.
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