[Methos] I didn't order a wake up call
WHO: Methos
WHEN: Day 37, by the predawn light
WHERE: Methos' Hut
INVITED: Jack Harkness, River Tam, anybody around to see Methos embarrassed
STATUS: Complete
Methos was dreaming. Even if it was an odd dream there was a certain comfort in knowing he was sleeping. Methos didn't see anyone in it that seemed to be Oona, but since he'd only had one exposure to what she could do he couldn't be certain she wasn't there. The Whispers where in it. They're presence was more unnerving than it had been in the jungle because here they were very clearly moving through camp with no sign of what they came from, and it wasn't just their presence that was unnerving. They hadn't just come into camp -- they sounded scared. They were running before something like frightened sheep, and that something was cold. Methos could feel it coming towards camp too, moving with the casual pace of a confident hunter.
Feeling the predator moving steadily towards camp he reached for his sword, reached, but didn't find it. The jolt of adrenaline the discovery gave him didn't wake him. It didn't have the chance. The force bearing down on Methos wasn't entirely cold, no, it sensed his sudden rush of fear and reached out with a touch that was anything but cold. It's touch so warm and intimate should've been soothing. It had been meant to seduce him, but he found shelter from it more readily than he had the cold. He wasn't alone with it. As quiet and empty as the rest of the camp seemed there was someone next to him. In the dream he wasn't clear whether it was Oona or Jack or someone else, but as he woke he knew the warmth lying next to him was Jack.
WHEN: Day 37, by the predawn light
WHERE: Methos' Hut
INVITED: Jack Harkness, River Tam, anybody around to see Methos embarrassed
STATUS: Complete
Methos was dreaming. Even if it was an odd dream there was a certain comfort in knowing he was sleeping. Methos didn't see anyone in it that seemed to be Oona, but since he'd only had one exposure to what she could do he couldn't be certain she wasn't there. The Whispers where in it. They're presence was more unnerving than it had been in the jungle because here they were very clearly moving through camp with no sign of what they came from, and it wasn't just their presence that was unnerving. They hadn't just come into camp -- they sounded scared. They were running before something like frightened sheep, and that something was cold. Methos could feel it coming towards camp too, moving with the casual pace of a confident hunter.
Feeling the predator moving steadily towards camp he reached for his sword, reached, but didn't find it. The jolt of adrenaline the discovery gave him didn't wake him. It didn't have the chance. The force bearing down on Methos wasn't entirely cold, no, it sensed his sudden rush of fear and reached out with a touch that was anything but cold. It's touch so warm and intimate should've been soothing. It had been meant to seduce him, but he found shelter from it more readily than he had the cold. He wasn't alone with it. As quiet and empty as the rest of the camp seemed there was someone next to him. In the dream he wasn't clear whether it was Oona or Jack or someone else, but as he woke he knew the warmth lying next to him was Jack.