Quality of Mercy by Rosemary
Well, its February 29 and my month ends. This is gonna be my last rec, and let me tell all of you it has been such a pleasure to be here. I've enjoyed every single moment of this!
I want to thank you to let me share with you some of my favorites stories, and if I could make you discover something you never read, or remember you of and old loved story, my job has been done.
And now, on the story
Title: Quality of Mercy
Author: Rosemary - I think he hasn't a LJ
Pairing: D/M - NC-17 - AU
Why this must be read:
This is the first story in a long series. It's set at the end of "The Modern Prometheus" and goes totally AU from here.
And here we have yet another story about how Methos and Duncan get over from the events in CaH and Revelations, and Byron's death. We see this from Methos' POV, and his hurt, his anger is evident. As much as how both, Duncan and Methos, misunderstand each other by raw fear to destroy whatever remains from their friendship.
Methos is ready to accept he has no place in Duncan life, not anymore. But looks like Duncan differs =D
Come here a take a taste
Methos stalked to the door and swung it open. “What?”
MacLeod actually looked startled by the reception he received. His handsome features hardening with a challenging, almost predatory antagonism, the Highlander brushed past him without waiting for an invitation.
“Come in, why don’t you?” Methos sarcastically sneered. He’d had enough of MacLeod and his small-minded morality for one night, possibly for an Immortal’s lifetime.
“We weren’t through,” MacLeod said, in a tone that seemed to be struggling for civility.
Wondering why Mac was even trying, Methos corrected, “Oh, yes, we’re through. You said so in Seacouver. I was just too dense to accept it.”
“Methos…”
The reasonable voice irritated him to a near berserker frenzy. Carefully clamping down on his rage, Methos tiredly said, “Go home, MacLeod.”
“You once told me su casa es mi casa,” Duncan reminded.
Methos despised the man at that moment. “We’ve already established my probity or lack thereof.”
“We can’t go on like this, Methos,” MacLeod said in that irritatingly reasonable tone he had at times. It was only slightly less infuriating than the judgmental one he more often took.
“You’re right as usual, MacLeod. We can’t. We shouldn’t even try. It’s been fun knowing you….”
“Methos…” The warning was plain.
And it was too much. Bad enough he subjected himself to this unforgiving piety when he was ready for the exchanges. For MacLeod to follow him home and inflict it upon him when he was in retreat was unbearable.
“What? What do you want from me? You’ve made it plain that it’s not my friendship. I don’t measure up. I can’t. Let’s just count our losses and be grateful we both still have our heads….”
“We’re friends,” MacLeod protested with that stubborn persistence that made Methos want to shake him.
“We were friends. Before Cassandra showed up. Since then…” he shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Whatever it was, it’s gone now.” Like everything else that ever meant a damn to me. Turning his back on his uninvited guest, Methos stalked back to the kitchen.
The scotch bottle was still sitting on the table where he’d left it. Its clear top caught the dim light from the courtyard window, glinting like crystals in the dark, beckoning to him, promising him forgetfulness.
Like most promisers, the scotch was a liar. The forgetfulness wouldn’t last. Methos knew going in that it was only a temporary reprieve. He’d still wake up with Death upon his conscience, only he’d have a splitting headache to contend with as well in the morning, but…sometimes he needed the temporary solace, regardless of the consequences.
So, you now can click here and after read this one, spend a wonderful week end with the rest of the serie =D
Good bye!!!!!!!!
Author's website: Tiranog's Website
I want to thank you to let me share with you some of my favorites stories, and if I could make you discover something you never read, or remember you of and old loved story, my job has been done.
And now, on the story
Title: Quality of Mercy
Author: Rosemary - I think he hasn't a LJ
Pairing: D/M - NC-17 - AU
Why this must be read:
This is the first story in a long series. It's set at the end of "The Modern Prometheus" and goes totally AU from here.
And here we have yet another story about how Methos and Duncan get over from the events in CaH and Revelations, and Byron's death. We see this from Methos' POV, and his hurt, his anger is evident. As much as how both, Duncan and Methos, misunderstand each other by raw fear to destroy whatever remains from their friendship.
Methos is ready to accept he has no place in Duncan life, not anymore. But looks like Duncan differs =D
Come here a take a taste
Methos stalked to the door and swung it open. “What?”
MacLeod actually looked startled by the reception he received. His handsome features hardening with a challenging, almost predatory antagonism, the Highlander brushed past him without waiting for an invitation.
“Come in, why don’t you?” Methos sarcastically sneered. He’d had enough of MacLeod and his small-minded morality for one night, possibly for an Immortal’s lifetime.
“We weren’t through,” MacLeod said, in a tone that seemed to be struggling for civility.
Wondering why Mac was even trying, Methos corrected, “Oh, yes, we’re through. You said so in Seacouver. I was just too dense to accept it.”
“Methos…”
The reasonable voice irritated him to a near berserker frenzy. Carefully clamping down on his rage, Methos tiredly said, “Go home, MacLeod.”
“You once told me su casa es mi casa,” Duncan reminded.
Methos despised the man at that moment. “We’ve already established my probity or lack thereof.”
“We can’t go on like this, Methos,” MacLeod said in that irritatingly reasonable tone he had at times. It was only slightly less infuriating than the judgmental one he more often took.
“You’re right as usual, MacLeod. We can’t. We shouldn’t even try. It’s been fun knowing you….”
“Methos…” The warning was plain.
And it was too much. Bad enough he subjected himself to this unforgiving piety when he was ready for the exchanges. For MacLeod to follow him home and inflict it upon him when he was in retreat was unbearable.
“What? What do you want from me? You’ve made it plain that it’s not my friendship. I don’t measure up. I can’t. Let’s just count our losses and be grateful we both still have our heads….”
“We’re friends,” MacLeod protested with that stubborn persistence that made Methos want to shake him.
“We were friends. Before Cassandra showed up. Since then…” he shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Whatever it was, it’s gone now.” Like everything else that ever meant a damn to me. Turning his back on his uninvited guest, Methos stalked back to the kitchen.
The scotch bottle was still sitting on the table where he’d left it. Its clear top caught the dim light from the courtyard window, glinting like crystals in the dark, beckoning to him, promising him forgetfulness.
Like most promisers, the scotch was a liar. The forgetfulness wouldn’t last. Methos knew going in that it was only a temporary reprieve. He’d still wake up with Death upon his conscience, only he’d have a splitting headache to contend with as well in the morning, but…sometimes he needed the temporary solace, regardless of the consequences.
So, you now can click here and after read this one, spend a wonderful week end with the rest of the serie =D
Good bye!!!!!!!!
Author's website: Tiranog's Website