Fic: Secret Virtues [Highlander, gen, pg-13, Sweet Charity]
Title: Secret Virtues
Author Name: Lferion
Fandom: Highlander
Characters|Pairing: Methos, Amanda, Joe
Rating: PG - 13
Word Count: 530
Disclaimer: So not mine.
Summary: Amanda knows many stories, including several Methos would rather she didn't.
Warnings: None
Challenge/Fest/Cause: Sweet Charity spring 09
Prompt: "No one gossips about other people's secret virtues." - Bertrand Russell
Author Notes: Written for Rhianona for the Sweet Charity spring 09 auction.
Many thanks to
auberus for encouragement, editing and commentary.
Secret Virtues
"So, Joe, did the Old Man ever tell you about the time he adopted a bunch of street-kids? Spent a summer (a very cold summer) putting stranded turtles back in the sea?" Amanda, elegant Amanda, dressed to the nines and looking like she had never handled a turtle in her life except with a silver soupspoon, leaned conspiratorially against the bar. "Or, oh, how about the time he saved three village maidens with one 'I do'?"
Joe put her drink - something layered and brightly colored - down in front of her, eyes narrow with amusement. "No, can't say as he has."
Methos looked over from where he was savoring the first swallow of a fresh beer, brows drawing together in growing suspicion. The front legs of his chair reconnected with the floor. Amanda blithely ignored him.
"Well, a long time ago in what might as well be a galaxy far far away, that is to say, the Macedonian uplands in the third century anno domini, there lived a young man the local herders and villagers called both wise and foolish: Dysos you see could read and write - Greek and Aramaic, probably other things as well - but he was an indifferent wrestler, and preferred weaving cloth and spinning tales to herding and hunting. One village wag, festival-drunk, and, it is said, having had his advances rebuffed, was wont to call him 'Penelopos' or even Penelope, after the wife of the wandering hero."
"Amanda!" For a wonder, there was a hint of color rising in Methos' cheeks, and he actually looked embarrassed. "How do you even know that story? No!"
Amanda turned and smiled very sweetly at him. "Piers-Paul Matthieu, you lost that wager, remember?" Then her look softened to something more genuine, but no less impish or direct. "And I've known that one for centuries. Rebecca told me, before I'd ever met you. Admittedly, it was quite some time before I realized that Dysa, Methos and Alun the wing-footed, beak-nosed, quick-fingered 'young immortal' I knew were all the same person, because she didn't tell me that part. Other things, though, she did tell me." She took a deliberate sip of her cocktail. "I took that bet because I knew I couldn't lose."
Fascinated, Joe watched as Methos winced and slouched several inches lower in his chair. The beer bottle became an object of engrossing interest. Amanda's eyes were sparkling with mischief, her perfectly painted mouth quirked in glee. Joe's fingers itched for pencil and paper, keyboard or tape recorder. He took the obvious cue. "Bet?"
Amanda settled herself comfortably on the barstool. "Oh, that's a story in itself, but first I have to tell you the tale of the wedding of Philipos, archon of Arid'aia and Dysa the well-endowed."
Joe nodded, listening with avid ears.
"Now, Dysos had been been found wandering lost after the last of the winter snows had begun to melt, and having no family, been adopted by a widow of the region, wise in the ways of healing and herb-craft. She had three daughters, and her only son had died. Her name was Cylla."
Methos dropped his face in his hands.
This entry was originally posted at http://lferion.dreamwidth.org/186588.html, where there are currently
comments. Please comment there using OpenID.
Author Name: Lferion
Fandom: Highlander
Characters|Pairing: Methos, Amanda, Joe
Rating: PG - 13
Word Count: 530
Disclaimer: So not mine.
Summary: Amanda knows many stories, including several Methos would rather she didn't.
Warnings: None
Challenge/Fest/Cause: Sweet Charity spring 09
Prompt: "No one gossips about other people's secret virtues." - Bertrand Russell
Author Notes: Written for Rhianona for the Sweet Charity spring 09 auction.
Many thanks to
auberus for encouragement, editing and commentary.
Secret Virtues
"So, Joe, did the Old Man ever tell you about the time he adopted a bunch of street-kids? Spent a summer (a very cold summer) putting stranded turtles back in the sea?" Amanda, elegant Amanda, dressed to the nines and looking like she had never handled a turtle in her life except with a silver soupspoon, leaned conspiratorially against the bar. "Or, oh, how about the time he saved three village maidens with one 'I do'?"
Joe put her drink - something layered and brightly colored - down in front of her, eyes narrow with amusement. "No, can't say as he has."
Methos looked over from where he was savoring the first swallow of a fresh beer, brows drawing together in growing suspicion. The front legs of his chair reconnected with the floor. Amanda blithely ignored him.
"Well, a long time ago in what might as well be a galaxy far far away, that is to say, the Macedonian uplands in the third century anno domini, there lived a young man the local herders and villagers called both wise and foolish: Dysos you see could read and write - Greek and Aramaic, probably other things as well - but he was an indifferent wrestler, and preferred weaving cloth and spinning tales to herding and hunting. One village wag, festival-drunk, and, it is said, having had his advances rebuffed, was wont to call him 'Penelopos' or even Penelope, after the wife of the wandering hero."
"Amanda!" For a wonder, there was a hint of color rising in Methos' cheeks, and he actually looked embarrassed. "How do you even know that story? No!"
Amanda turned and smiled very sweetly at him. "Piers-Paul Matthieu, you lost that wager, remember?" Then her look softened to something more genuine, but no less impish or direct. "And I've known that one for centuries. Rebecca told me, before I'd ever met you. Admittedly, it was quite some time before I realized that Dysa, Methos and Alun the wing-footed, beak-nosed, quick-fingered 'young immortal' I knew were all the same person, because she didn't tell me that part. Other things, though, she did tell me." She took a deliberate sip of her cocktail. "I took that bet because I knew I couldn't lose."
Fascinated, Joe watched as Methos winced and slouched several inches lower in his chair. The beer bottle became an object of engrossing interest. Amanda's eyes were sparkling with mischief, her perfectly painted mouth quirked in glee. Joe's fingers itched for pencil and paper, keyboard or tape recorder. He took the obvious cue. "Bet?"
Amanda settled herself comfortably on the barstool. "Oh, that's a story in itself, but first I have to tell you the tale of the wedding of Philipos, archon of Arid'aia and Dysa the well-endowed."
Joe nodded, listening with avid ears.
"Now, Dysos had been been found wandering lost after the last of the winter snows had begun to melt, and having no family, been adopted by a widow of the region, wise in the ways of healing and herb-craft. She had three daughters, and her only son had died. Her name was Cylla."
Methos dropped his face in his hands.
This entry was originally posted at http://lferion.dreamwidth.org/186588.html, where there are currently
comments. Please comment there using OpenID.