'The Pattern' (01/01)
A ficlet, or perhaps a drabble on steroids. Inspired by a post this morning on one of the winery blogs I read. So it's timely fic [g] And hey, not a crossover.
_______________________________________
The Pattern
San Luis Obispo, Califonia
January 18, 2010
Methos grinned as Duncan swung Charlotte around, both of them seemingly oblivious to the fact they were soaked through. No, that wasn’t it, the fact they were drenched, standing out in the middle of a downpour, seemed to be the reason for their glee.
“It’s raining, Methos!” Charlotte said slightly breathlessly as he joined the two of them at the edge of Duncan’s vineyard.
Cocking an eyebrow, he replied, “Is it really? I hadn’t noticed.” He put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.
Sticking her tongue out at him playfully, she continued, “After three years of drought, this is an answer to our prayers.”
“And this is only the first of five storms this week,” Duncan added, fingering a grape vine with a look of contentment on his face. “Charlotte’s right, this is definitely worth celebrating.”
“The more things change…,” Methos said softly, looking over the acres of vines rolling out before him, the heavy gray sky overhead deluging them and all life around with precious rain.
Duncan and Charlotte nodded in understanding, neither Immortal as ancient as Methos, but old enough to recognize the endless pattern of drought and plenty. No matter how many centuries passed, times like these would always be treasured.
End
_______________________________________
The Pattern
San Luis Obispo, Califonia
January 18, 2010
Methos grinned as Duncan swung Charlotte around, both of them seemingly oblivious to the fact they were soaked through. No, that wasn’t it, the fact they were drenched, standing out in the middle of a downpour, seemed to be the reason for their glee.
“It’s raining, Methos!” Charlotte said slightly breathlessly as he joined the two of them at the edge of Duncan’s vineyard.
Cocking an eyebrow, he replied, “Is it really? I hadn’t noticed.” He put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.
Sticking her tongue out at him playfully, she continued, “After three years of drought, this is an answer to our prayers.”
“And this is only the first of five storms this week,” Duncan added, fingering a grape vine with a look of contentment on his face. “Charlotte’s right, this is definitely worth celebrating.”
“The more things change…,” Methos said softly, looking over the acres of vines rolling out before him, the heavy gray sky overhead deluging them and all life around with precious rain.
Duncan and Charlotte nodded in understanding, neither Immortal as ancient as Methos, but old enough to recognize the endless pattern of drought and plenty. No matter how many centuries passed, times like these would always be treasured.
End