Disclaimers:  Original characters and concept of  Highlander and  Highlander: The Series are property of a host of people, none of whom, unfortunately, are  me.  Original characters and the story herein, however,  are exclusively mine and cannot be used or posted without my permission.  So if you want to expand on this idea or character, please let me know first.  Thanks.
Rating:  PG.

Improv

© 1997, 2000, Grace Macy

Mara Escondito was having a perfectly fine day until her ex-fiancé walked in the door.  Not a wonderful day, considering she'd known he was in town, but it hadn't been bad.  Her new Immortal was the friendly, non-world-tour sort, and she had plenty of time to stop by Joe Dawson's new bar and  kvetch to her old teacher about the unfairness of being in Paris with an ex- fiancé liable to come by at any moment.

Being in the middle of said  kvetching when said ex-fiancé (also known to her acquaintances as The Bucket of Slime) arrived, she supposed she shouldn't have been surprised at either his sudden appearance, or the fact that she completely missed the attractiveness of the other man seated at the bar.

Methos, personally, was having a neutral sort of day -- which for an Immortal who had lived as long as he had, was damn near close to 'good.'  The entrance of the attractive young woman, obviously well-known to Joe, upped the neutral closer to 'nice' and he listened sympathetically as she described in rather humorous detail how unpleasant an idea it was to have to see her former paramour again.  Apparently, they had started out working together, progressed to a relationship, and then broken it off when it became clear a wedding-band would be a disposable accessory in his view when other women entered the picture.

Now, Methos watched with equal interest as the man to whom Mara had been referring in conversation walked into the bar.  Mara was of medium height, with straight black hair and soft brown eyes.  Physically, they would have made a striking pair, for the man was tall and good-looking in a country-club kind of way.  The attractiveness of his clean features was diminished, however, by a smile that could spoil any milk with the good sense to curdle.  Mara sighed as she heard his voice speak her name.

"Hello, Simon," the Watcher said, putting on as cheerful an air as she could manage, considering she wasn't happy to see him at all.  "I didn't know you were in town."

Simon chuckled and looked her up and down, slowly, appreciatively.  Mara's smile froze.  "Just got in," he answered.  "And I must say this  is an unexpected pleasure.  You look sensational, as always."

The words may have been complimentary, but his tone made it insulting, especially combined with the very confident, predatory gaze he was giving her.  Methos watched the woman's shoulders stiffen, even as his own hackles rose.  He did not like this man at all.  And from what Mara had said to Joe, his instincts were dead on.  "Thank you," Mara said, a bit stiffly, and Methos acted without really thinking about it.

Mara nearly jumped in surprise as an arm wrapped itself about her waist, and turned startled eyes up over her shoulder to see the man who had been sitting next to her smiling jovially at Simon.  Then the stranger looked down at her, gray eyes dancing, and she had the sudden thought that Shakespeare must have met someone like him when he wrote of Puck.

"Darling," the man said smoothly, in a laughing voice that held a British cadence.  "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

Mara stared at him.   I would if I knew what the hell your name was, she thought at him, smiling back.  But before she could worry about it, even before there was more than a split-second pause, he had looked back to Simon and was extending his free hand.  "Adam Pierson."

Simon blinked, then smiled a bit stiffly himself and shook the offered hand.  "Simon Winters," he replied.

"Honey," Mara said, feeling all the years of high-school plays returning, "Simon is an old acquaintance of mine."

Methos bit back laughter.   Oh, very nice!  Don't even use the word 'friend', let alone fiancé.

Simon continued smiling.  "So, how long have you two known each other?"

Methos smiled down into Mara's eyes.  "Oh, it seems like we just met," he said.  "Every time is like the first time, you know."

Mara nearly choked.  She had placed her arm over his and now gave his hand a light pinch.   Not too much, 'honey'.

The smile he turned on her was bright with laughter and a hint of apology.  "We met in this very bar," he continued blithely.

Simon looked to Joe and the older man nodded, smiling brightly, laughter carefully kept just behind his eyes.  "It was an instant connection," Joe verified.

Mara smiled, her fingers tightening atop Adam's in silent laughter; his tightened in return.  She looked up to see him looking at her, eyes crinkled lightly and sparkling.   Definitely Puck, she thought.

"Well," Simon said, and she looked back to him.  "Maybe we can do dinner sometime."

Methos almost raised an eyebrow.   Oh, you don't give up easily do you? We'll see about that.  "We'd love it," he said.  "Though I don't know if we'd make very good company.  Would we, darling?"

Mara looked up at him, not quite sure what he meant, but she didn't have time to wonder.  His free hand rose to wrap lightly in her hair as his head lowered.  She frowned at him for an instant before his mouth touched hers.  Then she almost forgot how to breathe.

Soft but deep, seemingly chaste and yet incredibly intimate as his lips moved on hers.   Oh my God,  but can he kiss!, she thought vaguely.  She responded instinctively, turning in his loose embrace as his arm tightened, as did his other hand, which cupped the back of her head.

She wasn't the only one suddenly swept up in the kiss.  Methos felt his conscious mind float a bit away, caught up in the fire racing into him, from her.   Joe was right, part of him thought in amusement and wonder.   Instant connection.  Chemistry.  Then he felt her arms closing around him and even that thought faded.  Gods, it had been so long . . .  Distantly, he heard someone clearing his throat and forced himself to come back from Valhalla and pull away from her.

She let him go reluctantly, her eyes opening slowly, to look up at him with pupils hugely dilated.  Her breathing was uneven, as he knew his own was, and there was a fine tremble in her hands as they dropped to rest on his hips.   Goddess, Methos thought; she is beautiful.

Then he remembered the impatient throat-clearer and looked up to see Simon regarding at them with a very uncomfortable look.   We must have been more intense than I'd thought . . . or planned, anyway.  His gaze shifted to Joe, and was rewarded with a raised eyebrow.  "Sorry," he murmured, forcing an apologetic smile as he looked back at Simon.  He wasn't sorry at all; the look on the man's face was worth it.

Mara turned enough to see it as well and allowed herself a sheepish smile.  After all, it wasn't every day she kissed a total stranger . . . and enjoyed it so thoroughly.  "Yes, well," Simon was saying.  "I really should be going.  Maybe I'll run into you -- all -- sometime."

Mara barely got out a goodbye as he headed for the door.  She glanced at Joe and saw him start laughing, quietly, then louder as the doors closed behind Simon.  She laughed too, then turned back to Adam and looked up at him.  He smiled down at her, his eyes glowing now, with satisfaction and no small amount of arousal.  His body attested to that, where it was still pressed against her.  She smiled a little.  She wanted desperately to kiss him again, but she was damned if she wasn't going to play at least a  little hard to get after a kiss like that.

"Thank you," she said.

Methos smiled more broadly.  "You're welcome," he said softly.   And can we do that again -- soon? he asked with his eyes.

Mara smiled back.  "So -- Adam, is it?"  He nodded.  She chuckled, her smile turning mischievous.  "Well, Adam . . . you can take your hand off my ass now."

Methos blinked, then his smile became a grin.  He obliged her, but the look in his eyes promised that it was a temporary obeyance.  Mara smiled; she certainly hoped so.

fin

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