PUPPY LOVE
Rory
V. Pascual
AUTHOR'S
NOTES: This is the THIRD installment of THE TEDDY BEAR TALES. Quite an
amazing thing, to tell you the truth. Given all the very bad stuff surrounding
these stories, months back, I swore to myself that I wouldn't write a Teddy
Tale ever again. But then, one day, I was watching the World Wrestling
Federation show "Raw". As wrestler valet Debra McMichael entered the ring,
commentator Jerry "The King" Lawler opened his mouth and screamed a word
that is now a part of every wrestling fan's vocabulary. And, no, I am NOT
talking about baby dogs!!
Funny how these tales are the most difficult to get out my head once inspiration
strikes. Constant major RL distractions -- these are what THE TEDDY BEAR
TALES are. To be honest, after finishing this story, the Muse has decided
to strike again. So there will be a FOURTH story, hopefully, to come out
in December (Hey! I've got to write those "Highlander Serials" first!).
If you're one of those brave souls who read "Dream On A Winter Solstice",
you know the drill. However, if you're new to THE TEDDY BEAR TALES, here
are the things NOT TO EXPECT in this story: "Highlander" canon AND normal
human physiology. On the other hand, what CAN you expect? This is SLASH,
of the DM/M variety and, yes, this is rated NC-17 since you have two gorgeous
guys doing the "wild thing". If you possess a mind that is prejudiced towards
slash, severely limited by canon and other existing human (ex. moral, religious,
etc.) boundaries, just hit the "BACK" button. But then if you still want
to read this story, proceed at your own risk.
Finally, the acknowledgments. Many thanks to JUDE MARTIN, the savior of
this story! If it wasn't for Jude, I would *still* be retyping Part Three
of this tale. Like ENG, she's my Teddy Bear. A true friend indeed!!
COPYRIGHT JULY 6, 2000 By RORY V. PASCUAL
“WE’VE GOT PUPPIES!”
Duncan MacLeod looked up from the pot roast he was making in the kitchen.
He eyed the three figures sitting on the bed with suspicion.
Methos was watching television, with their six-month old adopted son Sean
Richard and the ever-loyal Teddy sitting on his lap. There was a rapt expression
on Sean’s face as he gazed at the images on the screen, suckling lustfully
on his pacifier.
“What in heaven’s name are you two watching? A dog show?” Duncan queried,
unable to contain his curiosity. “First time I ever heard an announcer
get so enthusiastic about puppies.”
Methos shrugged. “Nope! My little boy and I are watching a REAL MAN’s show.”
In a very accurate impersonation of the announcer’s voice, he said, “WWF
Smackdown!”
At these words, the Highlander’s mouth gaped open. “You’re letting our
son watch Professional Wrestling? God, Methos! Sean’s just six months old!”
“Well, I tried changing it to the Cartoon Network, but he started crying.
I guess he just loves wrestling. I mean, just look at the way he stares
at Debra.”
Wiping his hands on a dish towel, Duncan strode towards his lover and his
son. His eyes widened like saucers at the sight of the young woman entering
the wrestling ring. Clad in tight, obscenely short shorts and black leather
platform boots, her black T-shirt was tied below her more than ample bosom.
Duncan couldn’t help but grimace, seeing the design on her tee – two large,
weepy puppy dog faces that even further enhanced her fine assets.
“Puppies, my ass!” Snatching the remote out of Methos’ hand, Duncan turned
off the set before the Old Man could protest.
Then, Sean Richard gazed up at him, a woeful look in his eyes, lower lip
trembling.
To the Highlander’s shock, the baby burst into gut-wrenching wails, his
pacifier falling on the bed spread. Hastily, Duncan opened the set once
more. Immediately, Sean Richard stopped crying, focusing all his attention
on the TV.
“I told you,” said Methos in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, wiping the
child’s tears away with his handkerchief.
Duncan snorted in disgust. “Something must be done about your viewing habits,
Methos. This isn’t a good program to watch for a kid.”
“Well, I didn’t choose it. I was just channel surfing when Sean started
making these funny noises when I hit the wrestling show. When I changed
it, like I said, he started crying, but he stopped when I went back to
this channel. You should have heard how much he gurgled when he saw that
lady named Tori. Sean was actually drooling.”
“Once it’s finished, I want you to switch to another channel, Methos. I
mean, a baby watching wrestling?”
“Not to worry! I’m a parent. ‘WWF Smackdown’ is rated PG anyway so I’ll
give him the best guidance I can offer. After all, I am 5,000 years old.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Duncan muttered under his breath as he went
back to the kitchen.
A few minutes later, he heard that same announcer call out with even greater
enthusiasm, “HERE COMES THE HOOO TRAIN!”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” the Scot hissed in disgust, as he prepared Sean’s
bottle.
<HOOOOO! PUPPIES!!!>
Duncan’s head snapped up. “Methos, stop that!”
“Stop what?” the ancient called from the bed.
“Saying that word!”
“What word?”
“Puppies! It’s degrading to women!”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“Really! I heard you as clear as day! You said ‘Hoooo! Puppies!’“
“And like I said, I didn’t say anything. You must have heard the TV announcer.”
Duncan gave his lover a dubious glance. “Are you sure you didn’t say anything?”
“Positive.”
Scratching his head, the Highlander went back to his chores.
<GROWL! PUPPIES! NICE
PUPPIES!!>
Furious, Duncan declared, “You did it again!”
“Did what?” Methos queried once more.
“That’s it! Change the channel now!”
“But what about Sean?”
“I don’t care! Sean shouldn’t be watching wrestling in the first place.”
Taking the remote, Methos told the baby, “Sorry about this, little guy.
Mama’s orders.”
As the ancient changed the channel, Duncan heard him cry out, <NO! NOOO!
NOOOO!>
“God, Methos! You’re so melodramatic!” the Scot exclaimed in exasperation.
“It’s just a bloody wrestling show!”
“I’m not doing or saying anything!”
<STOP! STOP THERE!
NICE SHOW!>
“Well, you seem to have finally found an appropriate show to watch.”
“Huh?”
“What’s on?”
“‘Baywatch.’“
<‘BAYWATCH’! PUPPY
HEAVEN! YUMMY!!!>
Exasperated, the Scot stormed towards Methos, quickly picking up Sean and
Teddy. Pried from his vantage position before the TV, the toddler burst
into tears.
“If you’re just going to ogle at breasts on TV all night,” he said furiously,
“you might as well do it without my son.”
Methos was utterly bewildered as he stared at the Highlander’s back. “What
did I do?”
But Duncan clearly heard his lover complain, <I WANT PUPPIES!> Worse,
the ancient even started a sprite pep squad chant of <PUPPIES! PUPPIES!
PUPPIES!>
Taking the baby bottle on the kitchen island, the Scot shook it angrily.
“If you want puppies so much, go over to Joe’s. Maybe he’d let you watch
the Playboy Channel.”
“Duncan, I really have no idea what you’re talking about,” the Old Man
said placatingly, following his lover. Winking, he teased, “Do I detect
a tone of jealousy in your voice? You know there is only one set of puppies
for me.” Methos eyed the firm mounds of the Scot’s chest, clearly discernible
under the sweater he wore. “And, man, they’re looking mighty good!”
The Highlander gaped at Methos in shock, as he tried, in vain, to get Sean
to drink his milk. Agitated as he was over the ancient, Duncan didn’t notice
that the baby was desperately pounding the bottle away with his fists.
“Methos! You’re absolutely obscene!”
“Well, it’s true,” said Methos defensively. “I like the way your chest
has swelled these past few months. Nice pecs! Real nice cleavage!”
<COW SWILL! YUCCKKK!>
Before Duncan could utter a vile retort, Sean struck a tiny fist at his
chest. At once, pain shot through his body, that he almost dropped the
baby. Luckily, Methos grabbed both of them in time.
Seeing how pale his lover looked, the Old Man asked worriedly, “Are you
all right, Mac?”
“I’m fine,” the Highlander replied, though his voice sounded rather strained.
Clutching a suddenly silent Sean close to him, he mumbled, “I’m sorry,
Sean! Did I scare you? It’s all right! It’s all right!”
“I think you’d better lie down.” Methos led his lover and son back to the
bed. He fluffed up the pillow on the headboard, then gently urged Duncan
to lie down. The Highlander pressed the nipple of the bottle to Sean’s
lips, which the child quickly took. His big brown eyes gazed up at him
in worry.
When his lover and son were finally settled in, Methos asked, “What happened
to you, love? And don’t tell me it was nothing.”
Duncan sighed. “I haven’t been feeling very well these past few months.
I’m going to see Anne tomorrow.”
“I was a doctor once. I could give you a thorough check-up. I’ve been keeping
myself updated with medical journals over the centuries.”
“Thank you, Methos, but I’d rather not. It’s...” There was such reluctance
on the Scot’s face. “It’s rather embarrassing.”
“And you can tell her and not me.”
“Please don’t be hurt,” said Duncan. “I...I just want a doctor and a woman’s
opinion on this. I swear I’ll tell you what we talked about when I get
home.”
Methos smiled at his lover reassuringly. “I know you will. Well, do you
want me to take Sean with me to the university tomorrow? There’s a great
daycare facility on campus. Besides, he’d be a hit with my students.”
<YES! YES! YES! SEE
PUPPIES!>
Duncan frowned. He heard that exuberant cry, but he swore he didn’t see
Methos’ lips move.
There was a mental link between us when I was still Angel, thought Duncan,
remembering those happy, yet tragic, times. Am I hearing Methos’ thoughts?
Does the link still exist?
Glowering at Methos, the Highlander concentrated hard. <NO PUPPIES!>
But instead of eliciting a response from the ancient, it was Sean who started
wailing, flailing his little hands and feet in an obvious tantrum.
“What the... Methos!” Duncan stammered, not knowing what to say.
The Old Man touched the baby’s bottom. "It looks like my little man made
a doo doo. Come on, Sean. Papa’s going to clean you up.”
“Methos...did you...” The Scot couldn’t finish what he was going to say.
He could only raise his hand to his lover, who went straight to the bathroom
with Sean.
“What do you say, Mac?” Methos called from the bathroom.
“About what?”
“Shall I take Sean with me to the university tomorrow?”
“Uh, no,” the Highlander replied, still confused. “Amanda’s in town. She
called up earlier, and she said she’d be happy to babysit. She’s really
looking forward to seeing Sean.”
Methos peered from the doorway. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Methos, she’s 1,000 years old. I’m sure Amanda knows how to take care
of a baby.”
The ancient shrugged and went back inside. “If you say so. Did you hear
that, Sean? Your Auntie Amanda’s going to be babysitting you tomorrow.”
The Highlander never expected he would hear a reply to that announcement.
<WHOOOPIE! AUNTIE 'MANDA!!
REAL NICE PUPPIES!!!>
“Hello! Hello! Hello!” Amanda cooed to the tiny figure inside the crib.
“What a handsome little boy you are, Sean! Thank God you look like Duncan
instead of Methos!”
“Amanda, he’s adopted,” Duncan reminded her.
“I know, but you look so much alike, except for the hair, of course.” The
pretty thief gave the Scot a side glance. “Are you sure this isn’t your
kid from one of your old flames?”
There was a pout on the Highlander’s lips. “You know we can’t have kids.”
“Well, yeah, but... I mean, the resemblance is uncanny.” Amanda laughed
in delight, seeing Sean raising his hands eagerly to her. “Would you look
at that? He wants me to carry him.”
As he set Sean’s things on the table, Duncan peered into the crib. Indeed,
the baby was reaching out to Amanda. However, his playful brown eyes were
riveted to the crevice between the thief’s breasts. To his chagrin, Sean
was practically drooling from a corner of his mouth.
As Amanda lifted the child in her arms, Duncan asked discreetly, “Er, Amanda,
don’t you have anything more...modest...to wear?" He pointed to her plunging
neckline.
“I’m going on a date with someone once you get back,” said the thief, cradling
the baby. The Scot frowned, noting the beatific expression on Sean's face
as he laid his head on Amanda's breasts. “His name’s Nick Wolfe. He’s a
detective. You’ll like him, Mac. Nick reminds me so much of you. I hope
you don’t mind my clothes. It’s such a hassle to keep changing.”
“Well, you don’t know Sean,” said Duncan pointedly. “He’s prone to tantrums,
and he’s picky with his milk.”
Again, there came that voice, <COW SWILL! YUCCKKYYY!>
Before he could ask Amanda if she heard that, the thief declared, “All
Sean needs is a woman’s touch.” Amanda smiled warmly at her erstwhile lover.
“But you’re doing really good with him, Mac. You and Methos. I never expected
that you would...”
“End up together?” Duncan rubbed Amanda’s arms lovingly. “I never expected
it either. Remind me to tell you about it sometime.”
“Oh, I will! Duncan...” Amanda began hesitantly. “Are you happy now? When
you left us in Paris, you were so sad.”
Duncan nodded his head. “I’m very happy, Amanda. I finally have everything
I want in my life. I have Methos, and I have a son.” As he glanced down
at the baby in the lovely thief’s arms, he exclaimed in dismay, “SEAN!”
Sean has his face pressed to Amanda’s breast. He was rooting eagerly on
a tiny prominence, staining her shirt with his drool. The other hand was
opening and closing on her breast.
“Oh, Amanda, your shirt!” the Scot declared, taking some wipes. “I’m so
sorry!”
“Hey, it’s all right! I could have this washed and dried in no time. Babies
are known to do this, you know. Now, you better hurry or you’ll be late
for your appointment with Anne.”
“But...but...” Duncan stuttered as Amanda pushed him towards the door.
“We’ll be fine, Mac,” she assured him. “I’m sure we could find something
to occupy our time.”
"Are you sure you two are going to be okay? I forgot to tell you that there
are guys coming over to install security cameras."
Hearing the last, Amanda looked at the Scot curiously. "Security cameras?"
"Methos' idea." Duncan shrugged. "I think he wants to be sure that Sean
and I will be safe."
"Don't you think he's being too overprotective of you? I know how much
you hated my being overly concerned about you sometimes."
"And I appreciate it, even though I did chew your head off many times for
this. But I understand now. I can't do everything alone." Duncan smiled
wanly. "I guess I learned that lesson the hard way."
Amanda saw the sorrow in the Highlander's eyes. Rather than let him dwell
on the pains of the past, she opened the door and said in reassurance,
"Go on, Mac. I'll take good care of Sean for you. Don't worry!"
Duncan kissed Amanda on the lips. "Thank you. But are you certain..."
Pushing him outside, the thief exclaimed, "Oh, won't you just go on?"
The door was closed in his face before he could say another word.
As he went off to his appointment, Duncan heard someone declare joyfully
inside, <AUNTIE 'MANDA! VERY NICE PUPPIES!! GROWWLLL!>
Duncan was sitting uncomfortably in Anne Lindsey’s clinic, clad only in
a hospital gown. “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice, Anne.”
“Come on, Duncan!” laughed the doctor. “You’ve done so much for me and
Mary. It’s my turn to do something for you. Besides, what are friends for?
So tell me. What can I do for you?”
Shyly, the Scot lowered the top of his gown, baring his chest.
“Oh, my!” Anne exclaimed in surprise. Gently, she palpated the rounded
pectorals, eliciting a wince from the Highlander. “Does it hurt?”
“Not as much as it did yesterday,” Duncan replied. “It’s been like this
for the past six months. My chest would just swell up and then recede after
a few hours. Lately, it’s been hurting a lot more, especially my...”
Duncan timidly gestured to the swollen nubs. Anne ran her fingertips lightly
over the rose-hued areolae.
“Well, there is some cracking in the skin. It’s rather dry, you see,” she
said in a clinical tone. “But something’s bugging me.” Taking a nipple
between her fingers, Anne warned, “Let me squeeze this a bit.”
A gasp escaped Duncan’s lips as pain shot through him. Anne frowned, seeing
the pearly white drop she had drawn from the tip. Taking a glass slide,
she smeared the drop on it and looked at it through her microscope.
“I don’t believe this!” Anne found herself declaring after a few minutes.
“What is it?” the Highlander asked worriedly. “What’s wrong with me?”
Anne spun around on her stool, a perplexed expression on her face. “Duncan,
you know, I would really like to run tests on you, but you wouldn’t want
that, would you?”
“Of course not! But...Anne, please tell me. Am I sick or something?”
“No, you’re not sick.” The good doctor got to her feet, a hand on her waist,
not knowing exactly what to say. “It’s just that...well...what you’re feeling
right now. I had those same...symptoms...after I had Mary.”
“I don’t understand.”
Anne smiled at him reassuringly, though Duncan could tell she was genuinely
confused. Raising the stirrups of her examination table, she said, “I want
you to lie down, Mac, but I want you to put your legs here.”
“I don’t think I would!” said Duncan indignantly. “I know what those are
for.”
“Mac, please?”
Grumbling to himself, Duncan did as he was told, a blush going up his cheeks
in embarrassment. He had never felt so terribly exposed in his entire life.
The Highlander could only stare at a spot on the ceiling.
“How did you get these scars, Duncan?” Anne suddenly asked from her position
between his legs.
“Scars? What scars? You know I don’t have any scars.”
“Well, you do now – two of ‘em in fact. There’s one small scar right here
on your perineum.” The Scot felt the doctor draw a small line between the
base of his scrotum and his ass. “Then, there’s a bigger one here.” Anne
drew another line starting an inch above his navel and ending above the
curls of his crotch. “I didn’t see them at first. You really need a good
light to do so.”
“Anne, I really have no idea how I got those scars, and why I still have
them. I haven’t fought with any Immortals since...”
Anne finished it for him. “Since Aric and Cyrus. I know. Adam has been
so protective of you because of them, because of what they did to you.”
“Except for the.... I know Aric and Cyrus did not cut me, or anything like
that. They just...violated...me. Anne, please! What’s the matter with me?”
The lovely doctor helped him to sit up. “To be honest, I don’t know what
to think. This totally goes against everything I learned in medical school.”
Duncan begged her. “Surely you must have a hypotheses or an impression
or something. I’m Immortal, so definitely there will be differences with
ordinary humans. Anne, you must tell me what’s on your mind.”
“Well, for starters, the scar on your abdomen,” Anne declared, shaking
her head in disbelief. “It looks like a midline incision.”
“A midline incision?” the Scot’s brows cocked up. “Like a Caesarian section?”
Anne nodded. “As for your chest, the reason why it’s swollen like that
is because you’re lactating.”
Duncan’s jaw dropped in shock. The implication of it was too much for his
mind to take. He remembered waking up the morning after the winter solstice.
All that blood...
“What are you trying to tell me, Anne?” the Highlander asked, his voice
trembling.
Anne was very gentle as she took his right hand in her grasp. “Duncan,
I think you had a baby.”
“I think you had a baby.”
Anne’s words to him echoed inside his mind as the Scot walked home. In
his arms, he carried a bag of fresh diapers and a can of baby formula for
Sean Richard. It also contained a breast pump and a bottle of lanolin.
“To ease the cracking of the skin,” Anne had told him. “It will make your
nipples supple.”
I had a baby? Duncan thought for a thousandth time. I gave birth to a child,
and I don’t remember? How could I have forgotten something so important
as this? Good lord, what did I do to my baby?
He was in that troubled state when he arrived at the loft. Opening the
gate of the lift, he was greeted by a gentle humming sensation at the back
of his neck. His eyes narrowed, seeing the grizzled, yet handsome, stranger
playing with Sean on the couch. A Pre-Immortal.
“Who are you?” the Highlander demanded, snatching the baby from him. “What
the hell are you doing with my son?”
Before the stranger could reply, Amanda emerged from the bathroom. “Oh
hi, Mac! Good you’re finally home. This is the friend I was telling you
about.” She waved a hand to the man, who slowly stood up. “Duncan MacLeod,
I’d like you to meet Nick Wolfe. Nick, this is Mac.”
“Hi!” Nick greeted, a tentative smile on his face. “I’ve heard so much
about you. I’m sorry if I surprised you there.”
Duncan shook his hand, smiling as well. “I’m the one who should apologize.
I didn’t mean to yell at you like that.”
“Well, if I’ve got a kid as great as Sean here,” Nick began, playfully
ruffling the baby’s hair. “I’d probably react the same way you did.”
Amanda pursed her lips together. “Nah, I don’t think so. Mac has got the
mother hen routine down to a T. I, on the other hand,” she added, rubbing
her hand briskly over her bosom, “don’t think I could survive the experience.”
“I’m sure you can’t,” both men commented at the same time that they burst
out laughing.
Feigning hurt, the pretty thief exclaimed, “I didn’t come here to be laughed
at. Sean’s more of a gentleman than either of you.”
<YES! SEAN! REAL MAN
BABY!>
Duncan frowned at that remark. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Snaking her arm around Nick’s, Amanda urged, “I’d really like
to stay and ask how it went with Anne, but we really gotta run. By the
way, those security guys came over and installed the cameras.”
“Oh, yeah! Sure!” said the Highlander, a bit relieved that they were leaving.
“Thanks for taking care of Sean for me.”
“That kid of yours is going to grow up to be a lady killer, Mac,” called
Amanda, as Nick closed the gate of the lift. “That fiendish little mouth
of his! It’s so hot!”
Duncan strode towards the lift, brows knitted together in suspicion. “What
did you two do while I was gone?”
But the lovely Immortal simply waved her hand, almost guiltily it seemed
to the Scot. “Bye, Mac! Bye, Sean!”
<Bye! Auntie 'Manda!> came that regretful voice once more. <I'll
miss your puppies!>
Duncan stared down at the baby in his arms. Sean blinked up at him innocently.
“Naaah!” the Highlander exclaimed, shaking his head. “It couldn’t be!”
When Methos arrived from the university that night, Duncan was sitting
on the bed, shirt open, doing the rather difficult and embarrassing task
of drawing milk from his chest with the breast pump.
“Hello, Honey! I’m home!” Methos called out cheerfully.
In his surprise, Duncan dropped the breast pump on the floor. Luckily,
the ancient was distracted by the baby playing on the carpet to notice
Duncan pick up the fallen pump with haste and hide it, and the bottle he
was filling, inside the cabinet.
“And how’s my little boy?” cooed Methos, kissing Sean’s chubby cheek. “Had
a good time with Auntie Amanda?”
To Duncan’s surprise, Sean burst into delighted giggles, drooling from
the corner of his mouth.
“I’ll take that as a big yes.” Methos turned to his lover, who was buttoning
up his shirt. “How did your appointment with Anne go?”
“Maybe we could talk about it after dinner,” the Highlander suggested,
going to the kitchen area.
Noting the troubled expression on his lover’s face, the Old Man gave him
a reassuring smile. “Okay, after dinner then.”
After they had eaten, Duncan placed a very drowsy Sean back inside his
crib, and then proceeded to wash the dishes. Methos wanted to help, but
the Scot told him he could manage. The ancient couldn’t help the warm smile
that formed on his face, watching his lover puttering around the loft.
He never thought of himself as the type to enjoy domestic bliss. With Duncan,
however, he was happy and contented. It seemed like the world came to a
standstill for them – no nasty Immortals crawling out of the woodwork,
no demons to torment them. It was just he, Duncan and Sean. To Methos,
Duncan turned out to be a multi-faceted diamond, so many things inside
that beautiful exterior – the Boy Scout who became his friend, Angel the
child man who became his lover, and now his gentle mate, mother (for lack
of a better term) to Sean. He couldn’t ask for anything more.
When he opened the cabinet to get a clean shirt, something fell into his
grasp. Methos looked at the thing he held in his hand curiously, as well
as the half-filled bottle he found inside.
Having finished the dishes, Duncan took a deep breath, still unsure as
to how he was going to break the news to his lover. Turning, he paused
at once, seeing the intense perusal Methos was giving to the thing he held
in his hand.
“Duncan?” Methos couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer. “What’s this
thing?”
The Highlander strode towards his lover, taking the bottle and the pump,
and placed them on the kitchen island. “Uh...they’re mine, Methos. Anne
told me that I would need them, and she was right.”
“Yes, but what is it?” the ancient asked slowly.
There was such reluctance on Duncan’s face as he turned around to face
the older man. Grimacing, he squeaked, “It’s...uh...it’s a...breast pump.”
Methos’ brow cocked up. “A breast pump? Now why would you be needing a
breast pump?”
“You know what it’s used for, Methos.”
“Yes, but I want to know why you need it.”
With a sigh, Duncan plopped down on the bed, fumbling with the buttons
of his shirt. “Because I need to draw the milk out of my chest, so it wouldn’t
hurt so much.”
As Methos looked on, Duncan took a nipple between his fingers and squeezed
the tip, a white drop forming. The ancient felt like he had been hit on
the head with a baseball bat.
The Highlander then told him what had transpired in Anne’s clinic, not
leaving anything out.
“It’s not possible!” Methos sputtered in shock. “YOU’RE A MAN!”
“Believe me, I was just as shocked as you are,” the Scot replied. “Anne
wanted to do some tests, but I didn’t want her to.”
Methos gave his lover a dubious glance. “Duncan, would it be all right
if I examined you this time?”
The Highlander stole a quick look at the baby in the crib. Seeing Sean
sound asleep, he nodded his head, loosening his shirt completely and yanking
down his slacks. He lay quietly on the bed while Methos placed the lamp
on the stool beside him and examined his lover thoroughly. Many times,
he felt the older man trace the scars on his belly and between his legs.
When the Old Man was through, he buttoned Duncan’s shirt up for him and
helped him to sit up. Plopping down beside the Scot, he scratched his head
and stammered, “I don’t know what to say.”
Duncan’s voice trembled as he spoke. “Methos, do you remember how you found
me the day after the winter solstice, covered with blood. I told you I
had a wonderful dream, but I couldn’t remember what it was, no matter how
hard I tried. I knew it was something important, but it just vanished from
my head.”
“Duncan...”
A single tear trickled down the Scot’s cheek. “What if I had a baby, Methos?
OUR baby!”
“Mac, you don’t know this for sure. Yes, we’re Immortal. However, I don’t
think
our physiology is that different from humans.”
“Well then, how do you explain the scars? How do you explain the fact that
I’m lactating? Tell me! When you were a doctor, did you conduct any tests
on Immortals or on yourself?”
“No, because keeping such records is dangerous to us. It would give proof
that we truly exist.”
“So even you don’t know. But, Methos, you examined me. Can you give me
another explanation for what’s happening to me?” Noting the ancient’s silence,
Duncan exclaimed, “You can’t, can you? Because you yourself think that
I had a child!”
“Duncan, please!”
“Methos, it’s been six months! What did I do to my baby? Is that the reason
why we Immortals are foundlings? When we have children, we abandon
them and forget? My God! Someone could have taken my baby! Maybe my child
is in a foster home somewhere!”
Seeing the Highlander growing increasingly agitated, Methos hugged him
tight. “Duncan, stop it! I beg you! I don’t like to see you acting this
way!”
“But Methos, our baby...”
The ancient’s voice was choked with emotion. “If there was a baby, if our
child did exist, maybe...maybe he or she was not really for us. You know
the way of Immortals. Maybe it was meant for us to forget.”
“Then why is this happening to me? If we were meant to forget, why is my
own body telling me to remember? My heart is telling me that I have a child!”
Duncan breathed in deeply, hoping to calm himself. “What if a century passes?
An Immortal comes to challenge either of us. What if he kills one of us,
or he dies at our hands? What if that Immortal happens to be our son or
our daughter? God, Methos! If this is the way of our kind... I’ve always
hated being Immortal! I hate it even more now!” The Scot gripped his lover’s
hands with fierce determination. “I’m going to find my baby, Methos.”
“Where will you start looking, Mac?” the ancient pointed out to him. “Like
you said, it’s been six months! You don’t even remember what you did during
the winter solstice. Lord only knows where our child is.”
“I’m not going to sit around while my baby’s out there!”
Methos shook his head. “You must think this over very carefully, love.
I must admit this matter has given me cause for concern. I have serious
doubts about this whole thing. I’m afraid that you’re about to make a big
mistake, Duncan.”
Duncan gazed strongly at the ancient. “I already made a big mistake by
abandoning and forgetting my own child. I have to find my baby, no matter
what it takes.”
For a moment, they looked at each other in silence.
“No matter what it takes,” Methos repeated. Then, he sighed in surrender.
“If that is what you want to do, I won’t stop you. I’ll help you in any
way I can.”
The Highlander flung his arms happily around his lover’s neck. “Oh, thank
you, Methos! Thank you so much!”
Methos, however, gently pushed him away. “There is one thing I want to
ask though. What about Sean?”
Duncan’s brow knitted in a frown. “What about Sean?”
“If you’re going to go on this quest, I want to know what you plan to do
about Sean.”
“Of course I’ll take care of him. If I’m going out, I’ll find someone to
babysit. It’s that simple.”
“No, it’s not that simple. Sean is six months old. He needs his parents.
He needs us.”
“But what about our baby? He needs us too, even more than Sean. Sean...he’s
not even our real son.”
That last statement chilled Methos’ blood. He never expected to hear those
words from Mac. But then again, the Scot did have the tendency to regress
to the petulance of Angel under extreme duress. “We adopted him, which
makes him our son, though not by blood.” Methos cupped Duncan’s face in
his hands. “I’ll forget you said that, Duncan. I know how you could be
when you get this obsessed about something. That’s how you got Sean in
the first place. Duncan, you fought so hard to get him. In your search
for our baby, who may not even exist, you might...forget...that there’s
a wonderful child right here who needs you just as much. Duncan, if you
should neglect Sean.... We might lose two children instead of just one.
Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
There was startlement in those dark brown eyes. “Methos, I swear I won’t
neglect Sean. I don’t know why I said that. But believe me, I do love him.
I’m not going to lose Sean.”
Despite the assurance in Duncan’s voice, Methos was not entirely convinced.
“I hope so. I really hope so.”
Duncan leaned forward, a teasing smile on his face. “What about you, love?
I haven’t been neglecting you now, have I?”
Though he didn’t really want to change the subject, Methos felt a perverse
tingle go through his body at that suggestive query.
“Well, maybe you have been neglecting me.” He made a tiny space between
his thumb and index finger. “Just a little bit.”
“What can I do to make up for it?” Duncan let his shirt slide down, baring
his right shoulder.
Seeing the swell of the Scot’s chest, the ancient grinned. “Your...condition...has
opened quite a number of possibilities.” His deft hands pulled his lover’s
shirt off his shoulders completely, trapping Duncan’s arms that the Highlander’s
chest was bared to him so tantalizingly. “Do you know that I also had a
great dream the night of the winter solstice?”
“Really? What did you dream about?”
“That we had the most fantastic sex. Your nipples were deliciously ripe.
I suckled on you like a babe. Damn if I still couldn’t taste the sweetness
of your milk on my tongue.”
“Maybe you’d like to feed on me,” Duncan giggled.
“You know? That’s a very good idea!” Methos winked at the Scot. “Are
you sure you won’t mind? I mean, maybe you should think about breastfeeding
Sean.”
“Methos, I’m Immortal. Sean is not. Who knows what my milk could do to
him!”
“Good point!” The Old man let his finger touch the tip of a swollen tit.
“Do you know that I could make you come just by playing with your sweet
little nipples?”
“With your millennia of experience,” began Duncan, eyeing the finger that
was flicking his taut nub, “I don’t doubt you could.”
“Care for a practical demonstration? Your tits are perfect for this. They’re
just like tiny cocks, very sensitive, not to mention ripe for the plucking.”
Duncan laughed lightly at that remark. “Are you sure you don’t mean ‘ripe
for the sucking’? Besides, even if I say no to your practical demonstration,
I know you’ll still do it. You’re as pushy as a door-to-door vacuum cleaner
salesman.”
“But my wonderful mouth could put any stupid ole vacuum cleaner to shame.”
“Really!” said the Scot dryly.
“You asked for it!” Saying this, Methos pushed the Highlander onto the
pillows, closing Duncan’s legs with his knees, but leaving the Scot’s manhood
free. When the ancient’s mouth enveloped a swollen areola, Duncan gasped
as his cock immediately jutted up to attention.
The Old Man grinned as he gazed down at the impressive erection. “Sorry,
my friend. It’s not your turn tonight.”
"Oh, for heaven’s sake, Methos!” complained Duncan, trying to grab his
lover’s hand. “Please touch me!”
Instead, Methos pinned the Scot’s wrists to his sides. “Getting impatient,
my sweet? I’ve only just begun, and I don’t even have to touch ole Bonny
Portmore here to make you explode!”
“Methos, you are absolutely and truly obscene!”
The ancient growled teasingly. “I love it when you nag me like a mother
hen.” Then, licking the tip with his tongue, Methos took a deep breath
and sucked on the Highlander’s tit, drawing a blissful whimper from Duncan’s
lips. Tasting the sweetness of the Scot’s milk, a broad, hungry grin forming
on his face.
“Yummy!" he exclaimed, licking his upper lip. “Just the way I remembered
it!”
Methos went upwards and pressed his mouth to the Highlander’s lips, allowing
Duncan to taste his own juices.
“It is sweet,” mused the Scot, a shy smile quirking up the corners of his
mouth.
“I want more!” cried Methos, as he dove down on Duncan’s chest. “MORE!
MORE! MORE!”
Feeling that ravenous mouth on his nipples once more, Duncan groaned, “Is
that all you’re going to do? What about my needs?”
With a soft purr, the ancient muttered, “Imagine these sweet little tits
are your cock. Imagine me letting my talented mouth slide up and down,
up and down your hard rod.” As he nipped the bud, he whispered, “Imagine
my throat squeezing on your shaft, the same way my lips are squeezing your
nipple.”
Moaning, the Highlander closed his eyes, letting Methos’ words inflame
him, that he began thrusting his aching erection upwards, engaging in an
erotic sparring with his lover’s silken blade, in time with the ancient’s
sucking on his tits.
<zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz>
"Don't you dare fall asleep on me, you old fogey!"
Methos simply hummed in reply, engrossed with what he was doing.
<zzzz........??????>
Duncan’s eyes snapped open in surprise, feeling that sleepy, unspoken query
inside his mind. “Methos, did you say something?”
The ancient, however, mumbled in the negative, his mouth still plastered
to the gems of the Scot’s chest.
Thinking it was just his imagination, Duncan allowed Methos’ passions to
consume him.
<????????..........!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!>
Duncan felt that much stronger mental tap. Assuming that the link between
him and the ancient was open once more, the Scot projected amorously, <Suck
me, Methos! SUCK ME HARD!> Already, he could feel himself on the verge
of an explosive climax.
<HUNGRY!!!>
That shout caused Duncan to come forcefully and blood jetted from his nose.
Methos felt his lover sit up abruptly, and was stunned to see the blood
on the Highlander’s face. “Mac, are you...”
“Sean!” Duncan cried out as he buttoned up his shirt, almost tripping over
his slacks. Kicking his slacks away, he ran to the wailing baby in his
crib.
Picking the child up, the Scot cradled him in his arms, cooing softly,
“What is it, Sean? What’s wrong? Are you hungry? There, there now! Papa’s
got some milk for you.” Swiftly, Duncan went to the kitchen counter and
grabbed the bottle that was in easy reach. Pressing the nipple to the baby’s
lips, Sean clamped down on it and began suckling greedily.
Duncan saw Methos approaching from the corner of his eye. Standing before
his lover and their adopted son, the ancient wiped the blood from the Scot’s
nose with his handkerchief.
“What happened, Mac?” he asked. “You scared me half to death!”
“I’m sorry,” said Duncan, shrugging his shoulders. “I felt the link between
us open again. I guess you loved feeding from me. You were actually screaming
inside my head.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Methos, you screamed the word ‘Hungry!’ inside my mind.”
“But Duncan, I...”
The Highlander, however, bussed the Old Man lovingly on the cheek. “It’s
all right, Methos. You can feed on me anytime you want. I love your talented
mouth better than that old breast pump.”
“But...but...”
“Could we let Sean sleep with us?”
“Uh...yeah, sure!” Methos stammered in confusion. “I don’t see why not.”
A few minutes later, the two men lay sleeping on the bed, the baby between
them. Sean Richard was snoring contentedly, the milk bottle dangling from
his mouth.
Duncan was totally unaware that the bottle contained the milk he had drawn
from his chest.
"You never told us your old friend was quite a looker!" Caleb Saunders
asked his mentor, who sat hidden in the shadows.
"I never knew he had these...inclinations," the dark figure replied in
genuine surprise. Sickened, the dim outline turned away. "He must have
placed a spell on him. This isn't possible! I know him!"
"It doesn't look like he's under any spell," chimed in Max Barrows. "He's
so damned hot, I can tell you that!"
Saunders replayed the surveillance tape on the monitor to a particular
portion. Lasciviously, he licked his upper lip. On the other hand, Max,
who was closest to the monitor, ran caressing fingers over the delectable
image on the screen.
"Those cameras were not meant for you to indule in your perversions!"
There was a glint of metal in the darkness. Then a sword was brought down
on the table with a loud clang, causing the two men to whirl around and
face feral green eyes.
"We're here for the other one!" the dark figure reminded them. "If you
dare harm a single hair on MacLeod's head, I swear I'll kill you both!"
"Can't we have a little fun on the side?" Caleb complained like a petulant
child. He gasped as the sharp point of the sword nicked his throat.
"We stick to the plan. I want you to distract MacLeod while I take his
boyfriend's head."
"How do you want us to do that?" queried Max.
A smile formed on those full lips. "All we need is perfect timing and the
perfect bait. We already know what the perfect bait is. Those security
cameras will tell us when the time is right to act. Then, we'll use our
bait to draw MacLeod away from his lover, and then Methos shall be mine."
Turning away from the two men, the dark figure burst into evil laughter.
Methos sat on the couch, eyeing the Scot with growing suspicion, as Duncan
hastened to put the ancient's papers inside his satchel. To the Old Man,
it seemed as if the Highlander was eager to get rid of him.
There was a bright, charming smile on Duncan's face as he handed his lover
his things and a small lunch bag. "I've made you some turkey sandwiches.
Hope you like them." Noticing the stare the older Immortal was giving him,
he asked, "Why are you looking at me that way?"
"MacLeod, you're up to something," said Methos pointblank.
"I don't know what you mean," Duncan answered in turn. It took great effort
on the Scot's part not to look away from his lover's sharp gaze.
"Remember what I told you last night...about Sean?"
"Methos, I'm not going anywhere! I'm not leaving Sean alone! I swear it!
Don't you trust me?"
The ancient shook his head, not entirely convinced. "To be honest, I'm
not sure I could trust you. Duncan, your promise... It's important not
only to me, but also to Sean. If you should break your word...."
It was Duncan's turn to be angry. "I gave you my word, Methos. I won't
leave Sean. I won't neglect him." The Highlander turned his back on the
ancient, crossing his arms over his chest. "Damn it! You don't know how
difficult this is for me!"
"Do you think you're the only one who's having a hard time? I'm just as
affected by this...this news as you are. The possibility that we could
have a child out there... It's so difficult for me to...accept it." Methos
saw the shock in Duncan's eye, when the Scot gave him a side-glance. "Please
try to understand me, Duncan. What I said...I'm not trying to make it look
like our missing child, if he or she truly exists, is unimportant. But
I have Sean to consider here." Methos then admitted, "Before, it was unthinkable
for me that we should adopt a child." He set his things down and placed
his hands on Duncan's arms. "But you made me see the importance of having
a child in our lives. I love Sean, Duncan! I love that little boy you fought
so damned hard to keep! MacLeod, PLEASE! I don't want to lose him!"
Duncan couldn't speak at that heartfelt entreaty. Instead, he gazed down
and grudgingly nodded his head.
"I'll tell you what," the Old Man began to suggest. "During my lunch break,
I'm going to hire a detective to find our missing child. Is that all right
with you?"
To this query, the Scot just nodded once more.
Methos' shoulders drooped in sorrow. "Oh, Duncan! I wish...."
Duncan pulled away from his lover, going towards Sean who was playing in
his crib. "Go on, Methos. You'll be late for your first class."
The ancient sighed in surrender. "I'll try to come home early."
"We'll be fine," the Highlander assured him, though his voice sounded flat.
"Don't worry about a thing." Duncan didn't look back until he heard the
gate lowered and the drone of the descending lift.
Sean was rocking on his back when he felt something wet fall on his cheek.
There was a glistening drop at the tip of Teddy's nose. The child gazed
up to see his adoptive parent trembling all over, hands grasping the edge
of the crib tightly. Tears were streaming down Duncan's cheeks.
"Why won't Methos understand how I feel?" the Highlander wept bitterly.
"Sweet Jesus, I want my baby back!"
Noting his distress, Sean started making funny noises. When the Scot still
ignored him, his face scrunched up and he began to cry.
"Oh, Sean!" Duncan sobbed, picking the baby up in his arms. "I'm sorry!
I didn't mean to upset you. Papa's just got a lot on his mind right now!
Please don't cry!"
But the baby wouldn't stop crying. The Scot was about to pick up Teddy
when he paused. There was something strange about the bear's face. Duncan
swore that Teddy was giving him an intense look of disapproval.
"Don't give me that look, Teddy!" Duncan declared, feeling a bit guilty.
It seemed like the bear was peering into his soul. "You're just like Methos!
Why am I talking to you anyway? You're just stupid toy!"
Saying this, the Highlander grabbed the bear and hurled it angrily across
the room.
"Professor MacLeod?" a voice asked tentatively.
Duncan whirled around to find his student Jenny Carver standing hesitantly
before the lift. Swiftly wiping his tears away with the back of his hand,
he smiled. "Oh hi, Jenny!"
"Sorry I'm late!" the teenager replied. "I forgot some books and I had
to go back home for them."
"It's all right! Jenny, this is my son Sean."
Jenny patiently took the weeping child and rocked him to a tearful, hiccupy
silence. "Hello, Sean!" Turning to the Scot, she declared, "He looks so
much like you, Professor. It's hard to believe he's just adopted."
"That's what a lot of people keep telling me." Duncan showed Jenny where
the baby's things were kept and gave her the number of his cellphone. "Are
you sure you can take care of him, Jenny? Sean's quite a handful!"
"Professor, I have four younger brothers. I'm perfectly capable of taking
care of Sean. You don't have to worry about a thing."
Duncan smiled, feeling reassured. "Thanks, Jenny!"
"Uh, Professor?"
"Yes, Jenny?"
"I was just wondering," the teenager began with hesitation. "Actually,
the whole class wanted to know..." Jenny grinned shyly. "Professor, we
miss you a lot -- your history lessons, how you made the past come alive
for us. Professor Pierson told us you'd been ill."
"I was ill, but I'm fine now," Duncan said to her gently. "Right now, I'm
trying to cope with my current status as a family man."
"'Family man'?"
The Highlander laughed at this query. "All right, as a mother!"
Jenny pouted. "You and Professor Pierson! You don't know how many hearts
you broke on campus when word got out that you were an item."
"And how did you feel about it?"
"Well, I was a bit disappointed." The teenager shrugged. "But then again,
who am I to get in the way of your happiness? After all, you do love each
other." Giving her teacher a pointed look, Jenny queried, "Do you?"
"Yes," said Duncan, smiling. "Very much!"
Jenny shook her head. "Jeez, I talk too much, don't I? What I wanted to
say was... I mean, the whole class asked me to tell you... I do hope you'll
come back to us soon."
The Highlander thought for a second. "Uh...Jenny, I won't lie to you. I'm
in the middle of a family crisis right now. But I promise I'll be going
back to the university once it's over."
"Promise?" the teenager asked hopefully, her eyes twinkling.
"I promise." Duncan then leaned down to kiss Sean, who was reaching out
to him desperately. "Take care of my little boy for me. I'll be back in
a few hours."
"I promise," Jenny chimed in, rocking the baby in her arms.
As Duncan headed straight for the lift, he heard a plaintive cry, <Don't
go! Please don't go!>
The Scot glanced up briefly to look at Jenny, but his student was waving
and smiling at him reassuringly. It was Dean who was gazing at him, with
desperation in his eyes, arms raised to him.
No, it couldn't be! thought Duncan is disbelief, going inside the lift
and closing the gate.
The noise of the descending elevator drowned out the baby's cries and the
begging mind voice, <Don't leave me, Mama! Don't go!>
continued
in Part 2..click next below
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