Highlander - Not Quite the Bodice-Ripper Ideal
So we're nearing the end of cliche_bingo and a lot of entries are being wrapped up. Sorry for the spam of the last few days - there will probably be a bit more before the week is out.
Title: Not Quite the Bodice-Ripper Ideal
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~ 1,400 words
Genre: General sex talk, Het (past)
Synopsis: A group of old friends having a conversation at Joe’s.
Author’s Notes: For the cliche_bingo entry “virginity”. Yeah, I chose possibly the least chaste fandom. I don’t know.
Disclaimer: Not mine, they belong to people with far more money than me. I’m just borrowing them to play and making no profit from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Please,” Amanda sighed. She leaned back in her chair, long leather-clad legs stretched out allowing her stylish boots to poke out on the other side of the table. “I had the choice between prison or losing my virtue. I managed to get a loaf of bread and purse full of coins out of the deal, so I considered it a win.”
Richie’s eyes had grown wide, as they often did when the older Immortals started spinning their tales. “How old were you?” he asked, refilling the glass of wine before her.
She spun the stem delicately in her fingers as she seemed to think about that for a moment. Finally, she took a sip and shrugged. “Fourteen, maybe fifteen. We didn’t exactly have a lot of calendars back then, even if I had learned to read.”
Richie opened his mouth as if to ask another question, but Duncan cut him off by grabbing one of the chairs, spinning it around to straddle it, and asking, “Do I even want to know?”
“Probably not,” Amanda answered with a gleam in her eye. She took another sip of her wine and looked relaxed enough that Duncan was forced to wonder just how long Richie’s little fact-finding session had gone on this time. Well, that, and promise himself not to get too deep in his cups himself to make sure at least one of them was sober on the walk back to the loft.
“First times,” Richie answered for him, taking another drought of his cheap American beer. He smacked his lips and set the bottle down on the table in front of him. “And before you ask, no, I didn’t start it this time.”
“But he did encourage it,” Adam pointed out. He took a sip of his own beer, a much finer micro-brew, and pretended to contemplate its contents.
Richie held up a hand in self-defense. “Hey, I only said I was game if you were,” he protested. He slurred his words just enough to make Duncan hope for no excitement of a different kind of Game tonight. “Mine was Tr-”
“Trisha Davis,” the three older Immortals chorused as one.
“Behind the bleachers,” Duncan said boredly.
“Hand job,” Amanda said, rolling her eyes.
“And she dumped you the next day,” Adam smiled.
Richie tried really hard to look offended. “Well, sorry mine doesn’t match the great exploits of losing your virginity, but it’s all I’ve got so far. Maybe I can make up something better after a few hundred years or so.”
“Who said anything about making thing up?” Amanda asked with a raised eyebrow. “My first death was robbing a plague house. You really think my first screw was something more interesting?” She paused, eyes slightly glassy in the way that told Duncan she was remembering an incident fondly. “He was quite sweet, actually. Brought me to a real bed instead of just a roll in the hay of the barn where he caught me. I almost felt bad when I tied him to the headboard and stole his purse when he passed out.”
There was a slight cough as Richie took a sip of his beer just a bit too fast. Another cough, and he had recovered. Tipping his bottle in Adam’s direction, he asked, “What about you? Oldest of all of us and all that. You’ve got to have some good stories racked up by now.”
Adam shrugged, long lines exuding innocence even as it was clear the good stuff would stay hidden this night. Maybe another night, in a more private setting, he would be more forthcoming, but Duncan doubted it. Getting information from Methos was difficult at the best of times. If it was something he wanted to keep private? MacLeod was not going to hold his breath.
His old friend surprised him though, a sly smirk playing along his lips and a twinkle in his eyes that rivaled Amanda’s. “You asked for first times, not best times,” he pointed out.
“Hey, I’ll take anything,” Richie admitted, arms wide and grin wider.
Adam spun the bottle on the table, not quite tipping it, but not quite not. “The first time, that I remember, that is, was a young shepherdess who was better to tending me than tending her flock. Pretty thing, was married off to some old oaf shortly thereafter and had nearly as many children as she did sheep. Never once frowned at entertaining me on the hills when her husband was gone though.”
Duncan shook his head and tried not to smile as he accepted the whiskey placed in front of him, passed in some elaborate scheme from Joe to a waitress to Richie to him to prevent any of them from actually being interrupted. They were all regulars by now, and everyone knew not to bother them when they got going. He didn’t put it past Joe to have a recorder hidden somewhere to make sure everything got in the Chronicles, but at least the Watcher knew enough to keep mortals away. There was only so many times they could make excuses, and he really was tired of reading up on this “role playing” thing Richie came up with last time.
“What about you, Mac?” the man in question asked.
Duncan shook his head again, this time to let them know he was not involved. “I just walked in on this. I never promised to share a thing,” he pointed out. He took a sip of his drink, feeling it burn its way down his throat and warm him from the inside out.
He thought of his first so-called love, of all the ways he tried to woo her. He still remembered the look on her face when, after turning down all of his advances for so long, she had found him behind the stables. His kilt was askew and what amounted to the village barmaid was straddling his lap. She never did accept his apology but, then again, it had taken him quite a while to come back to himself enough to remember he needed to go after her.
“He’s remembering something,” Richie’s voice called him back to the present. “He’s got that ‘tingly flashback’ look on his face again.” He laughed even as Duncan frowned at the interruption.
“You’re not getting anything out of him now,” Amanda pointed out. She finished the last of her wine and placed the glass back on the table, nudging it just a bit closer to the near empty bottle. She smiled when the youngest of the group picked up on her hint and poured the last of it for her.
“MacLeod is not exactly the kiss and tell type,” Adam pointed out. “I think it violates that ridiculous chivalry code he lives by.”
Richie pouted. He must have been taking tips from Amanda as Duncan had to fight not to laugh at the image. “Come on, Mac,” the boy insisted. “It can’t be worse than anything we’ve had, right?”
Duncan thought of the way she never looked him in the eye again, of how she married his cousin when asked, and how she was one of the first to want to throw him out of the village when the truth came out. “Bad enough,” he said, burying the rest by taking another sip. He didn’t feel the burn this time, mind still lost in another place.
Amanda pitied him or, possibly, was just bored at this point. “Okay, boys, we’ve talked about first times, now let’s talk about best times,” she said with a wicked grin.
“Oh no,” Richie laughed, scooting back in his chair. “There is no way I can top you in that!”
Amanda gave him a look that wouldn’t melt butter. A look that was ruined when she raised an eyebrow, licked her lips, and offered, “How do you know if you don’t try?” with all of the false innocence a thousand year old thief could muster.
Richie sputtered and Amanda snuck a wink in his direction. Duncan felt the grin spread across his face as Joe himself brought over another glass of whiskey before settling down in the open chair, a look of open anticipation in his eyes. It was going to be a long night, but he had the feeling he was going to enjoy it all the same.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed.
Title: Not Quite the Bodice-Ripper Ideal
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~ 1,400 words
Genre: General sex talk, Het (past)
Synopsis: A group of old friends having a conversation at Joe’s.
Author’s Notes: For the cliche_bingo entry “virginity”. Yeah, I chose possibly the least chaste fandom. I don’t know.
Disclaimer: Not mine, they belong to people with far more money than me. I’m just borrowing them to play and making no profit from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Please,” Amanda sighed. She leaned back in her chair, long leather-clad legs stretched out allowing her stylish boots to poke out on the other side of the table. “I had the choice between prison or losing my virtue. I managed to get a loaf of bread and purse full of coins out of the deal, so I considered it a win.”
Richie’s eyes had grown wide, as they often did when the older Immortals started spinning their tales. “How old were you?” he asked, refilling the glass of wine before her.
She spun the stem delicately in her fingers as she seemed to think about that for a moment. Finally, she took a sip and shrugged. “Fourteen, maybe fifteen. We didn’t exactly have a lot of calendars back then, even if I had learned to read.”
Richie opened his mouth as if to ask another question, but Duncan cut him off by grabbing one of the chairs, spinning it around to straddle it, and asking, “Do I even want to know?”
“Probably not,” Amanda answered with a gleam in her eye. She took another sip of her wine and looked relaxed enough that Duncan was forced to wonder just how long Richie’s little fact-finding session had gone on this time. Well, that, and promise himself not to get too deep in his cups himself to make sure at least one of them was sober on the walk back to the loft.
“First times,” Richie answered for him, taking another drought of his cheap American beer. He smacked his lips and set the bottle down on the table in front of him. “And before you ask, no, I didn’t start it this time.”
“But he did encourage it,” Adam pointed out. He took a sip of his own beer, a much finer micro-brew, and pretended to contemplate its contents.
Richie held up a hand in self-defense. “Hey, I only said I was game if you were,” he protested. He slurred his words just enough to make Duncan hope for no excitement of a different kind of Game tonight. “Mine was Tr-”
“Trisha Davis,” the three older Immortals chorused as one.
“Behind the bleachers,” Duncan said boredly.
“Hand job,” Amanda said, rolling her eyes.
“And she dumped you the next day,” Adam smiled.
Richie tried really hard to look offended. “Well, sorry mine doesn’t match the great exploits of losing your virginity, but it’s all I’ve got so far. Maybe I can make up something better after a few hundred years or so.”
“Who said anything about making thing up?” Amanda asked with a raised eyebrow. “My first death was robbing a plague house. You really think my first screw was something more interesting?” She paused, eyes slightly glassy in the way that told Duncan she was remembering an incident fondly. “He was quite sweet, actually. Brought me to a real bed instead of just a roll in the hay of the barn where he caught me. I almost felt bad when I tied him to the headboard and stole his purse when he passed out.”
There was a slight cough as Richie took a sip of his beer just a bit too fast. Another cough, and he had recovered. Tipping his bottle in Adam’s direction, he asked, “What about you? Oldest of all of us and all that. You’ve got to have some good stories racked up by now.”
Adam shrugged, long lines exuding innocence even as it was clear the good stuff would stay hidden this night. Maybe another night, in a more private setting, he would be more forthcoming, but Duncan doubted it. Getting information from Methos was difficult at the best of times. If it was something he wanted to keep private? MacLeod was not going to hold his breath.
His old friend surprised him though, a sly smirk playing along his lips and a twinkle in his eyes that rivaled Amanda’s. “You asked for first times, not best times,” he pointed out.
“Hey, I’ll take anything,” Richie admitted, arms wide and grin wider.
Adam spun the bottle on the table, not quite tipping it, but not quite not. “The first time, that I remember, that is, was a young shepherdess who was better to tending me than tending her flock. Pretty thing, was married off to some old oaf shortly thereafter and had nearly as many children as she did sheep. Never once frowned at entertaining me on the hills when her husband was gone though.”
Duncan shook his head and tried not to smile as he accepted the whiskey placed in front of him, passed in some elaborate scheme from Joe to a waitress to Richie to him to prevent any of them from actually being interrupted. They were all regulars by now, and everyone knew not to bother them when they got going. He didn’t put it past Joe to have a recorder hidden somewhere to make sure everything got in the Chronicles, but at least the Watcher knew enough to keep mortals away. There was only so many times they could make excuses, and he really was tired of reading up on this “role playing” thing Richie came up with last time.
“What about you, Mac?” the man in question asked.
Duncan shook his head again, this time to let them know he was not involved. “I just walked in on this. I never promised to share a thing,” he pointed out. He took a sip of his drink, feeling it burn its way down his throat and warm him from the inside out.
He thought of his first so-called love, of all the ways he tried to woo her. He still remembered the look on her face when, after turning down all of his advances for so long, she had found him behind the stables. His kilt was askew and what amounted to the village barmaid was straddling his lap. She never did accept his apology but, then again, it had taken him quite a while to come back to himself enough to remember he needed to go after her.
“He’s remembering something,” Richie’s voice called him back to the present. “He’s got that ‘tingly flashback’ look on his face again.” He laughed even as Duncan frowned at the interruption.
“You’re not getting anything out of him now,” Amanda pointed out. She finished the last of her wine and placed the glass back on the table, nudging it just a bit closer to the near empty bottle. She smiled when the youngest of the group picked up on her hint and poured the last of it for her.
“MacLeod is not exactly the kiss and tell type,” Adam pointed out. “I think it violates that ridiculous chivalry code he lives by.”
Richie pouted. He must have been taking tips from Amanda as Duncan had to fight not to laugh at the image. “Come on, Mac,” the boy insisted. “It can’t be worse than anything we’ve had, right?”
Duncan thought of the way she never looked him in the eye again, of how she married his cousin when asked, and how she was one of the first to want to throw him out of the village when the truth came out. “Bad enough,” he said, burying the rest by taking another sip. He didn’t feel the burn this time, mind still lost in another place.
Amanda pitied him or, possibly, was just bored at this point. “Okay, boys, we’ve talked about first times, now let’s talk about best times,” she said with a wicked grin.
“Oh no,” Richie laughed, scooting back in his chair. “There is no way I can top you in that!”
Amanda gave him a look that wouldn’t melt butter. A look that was ruined when she raised an eyebrow, licked her lips, and offered, “How do you know if you don’t try?” with all of the false innocence a thousand year old thief could muster.
Richie sputtered and Amanda snuck a wink in his direction. Duncan felt the grin spread across his face as Joe himself brought over another glass of whiskey before settling down in the open chair, a look of open anticipation in his eyes. It was going to be a long night, but he had the feeling he was going to enjoy it all the same.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed.