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crack_van2009-07-30 09:59 am
hafital.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2009-07-30 09:59 am
Entry tags:
Forms of Friendship, by Maygra (R)
Fandom: HIGHLANDER
Pairing: Duncan/Methos
Length: about 2,200 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
maygra
Author Website: Maygra's Musings. Many of Maygra's Highlander can also be found on HL Archive.
Why this must be read: For my final fanfiction recommendation for this month, I offer one of my all time favorite stories. If I had to choose one story of Maygra's to keep forever, it would be this one. It's a quieter piece, in comparison to her longer stories that are sometimes epic in their scope, but there is still blood and death and love and hope, all mixed in together. I love this story for its ending, and for the depth of friendship between my two favorite Immortals.
"New look for you," MacLeod commented as he set his own gear down next to Methos' and stripped down to the loose shirt and trousers he had worn for this lesson. Methos was dressed similarly in a tannish colored loose tunic and a lighter version of what could have been a karate gi.
"Jeans are a little tight for the stretches," Methos said with a faint smile. He had obviously already begun, there was a peace and calm to his face Mac had not seen in far too long. Without another word MacLeod settled next to his friend on his knees as Methos was and began to breath. It took not very long for the two men to be breathing in sync, their concentration reaching out to both encompass and acknowledge the sounds around them: The faint rustling of leaves, the soft murmur of the stream that rumbled slowly along its course close by.
Mac was caught by a heightened sense of smell as well, the barest wafting of meadow grass and damp earth, of the soap and mild tang of sweat that sourced itself from his friend. Comfortable, soothing perceptions.
The basic forms were easy and slow, Mac letting Methos set the pace for the smooth movements of arms that were as much language and dance as exercise. He kept his own movements fluid and smooth, continuous as they moved through the first sets but he could not help but notice the grace with which his partner moved. They were both still kneeling and so accustomed was Mac to seeing Methos slouched or sprawled, the erect posture and absolute control threatened to take his breath away.
Not the point of the exercise, MacLeod, he had to remind himself with a small grin and moved only a fraction of a second behind Methos to brace one foot and kneel on the opposite leg to continue the forms.
Forms of Friendship
Pairing: Duncan/Methos
Length: about 2,200 words
Author on LJ:
maygraAuthor Website: Maygra's Musings. Many of Maygra's Highlander can also be found on HL Archive.
Why this must be read: For my final fanfiction recommendation for this month, I offer one of my all time favorite stories. If I had to choose one story of Maygra's to keep forever, it would be this one. It's a quieter piece, in comparison to her longer stories that are sometimes epic in their scope, but there is still blood and death and love and hope, all mixed in together. I love this story for its ending, and for the depth of friendship between my two favorite Immortals.
"New look for you," MacLeod commented as he set his own gear down next to Methos' and stripped down to the loose shirt and trousers he had worn for this lesson. Methos was dressed similarly in a tannish colored loose tunic and a lighter version of what could have been a karate gi.
"Jeans are a little tight for the stretches," Methos said with a faint smile. He had obviously already begun, there was a peace and calm to his face Mac had not seen in far too long. Without another word MacLeod settled next to his friend on his knees as Methos was and began to breath. It took not very long for the two men to be breathing in sync, their concentration reaching out to both encompass and acknowledge the sounds around them: The faint rustling of leaves, the soft murmur of the stream that rumbled slowly along its course close by.
Mac was caught by a heightened sense of smell as well, the barest wafting of meadow grass and damp earth, of the soap and mild tang of sweat that sourced itself from his friend. Comfortable, soothing perceptions.
The basic forms were easy and slow, Mac letting Methos set the pace for the smooth movements of arms that were as much language and dance as exercise. He kept his own movements fluid and smooth, continuous as they moved through the first sets but he could not help but notice the grace with which his partner moved. They were both still kneeling and so accustomed was Mac to seeing Methos slouched or sprawled, the erect posture and absolute control threatened to take his breath away.
Not the point of the exercise, MacLeod, he had to remind himself with a small grin and moved only a fraction of a second behind Methos to brace one foot and kneel on the opposite leg to continue the forms.
Forms of Friendship