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crack_van2010-04-27 10:53 pm
carenejeans.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2010-04-27 10:53 pm
Entry tags:
Missed Connections, by Hafital (Adult, Explicit)
Fandom: HIGHLANDER
Pairing: Duncan MacLeod/Methos
Length: 29,744 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hafital
Author Website: Fanfiction Paradise
Why this must be read: Methos is on the run, off the grid. His secret is out, with a vengeance, after he takes the head of a mysterious immortal with ties to Kronos -- and the death stroke is caught on video and distributed over the internet. Duncan is hot on his trail, fending off opportunistic immortals who think he can lead them to Methos and following every lead to every dead end, until he picks up a copy of the Village Voice and makes the connection. A good old-fashioned Highlander action-mystery story -- and of course, a love story as well.
The back of The Voice had colored advertisements all along its borders. In the center, the newspaper listed what looked like singles ads. At the top, the heading said Missed Connections.
Idly, he read the first one: We bumped into each other on the steps of St. Bartholomew's. You wore a red sweater and had a smile like sunshine. Meet me on those steps again tomorrow. I'll be waiting.
MacLeod smiled, intrigued by the romance. He read the next few ads. Most were explicit requests for illicit sexual encounters. Some were angry diatribes, petty irritations at perceived insults from strangers--To the a-hole who revs his motorcycle down my street at 4 AM, go eff yourself--but a few were lonely souls reaching out into the ether, searching for someone to connect with. They were random encounters, unknowns passing on the street or on the subways: a touch or a look or a glance all too brief, and then gone.
In the middle of the page, his attention was caught by a word.
You walked into my flat, and I threw you a can of beer. Then you said my name, a word now lost of all meaning. I think I loved you even then.
The afternoon sun glared across his eyes and the page blurred. He felt stupid, slow, not daring to believe his eyes, and read the same words over and over again. He knocked his coffee cup by accident and it spilled its last dregs before falling to the ground, shattering into tiny shards.
Methos.
Missed Connections
Pairing: Duncan MacLeod/Methos
Length: 29,744 words
Author on LJ:
hafitalAuthor Website: Fanfiction Paradise
Why this must be read: Methos is on the run, off the grid. His secret is out, with a vengeance, after he takes the head of a mysterious immortal with ties to Kronos -- and the death stroke is caught on video and distributed over the internet. Duncan is hot on his trail, fending off opportunistic immortals who think he can lead them to Methos and following every lead to every dead end, until he picks up a copy of the Village Voice and makes the connection. A good old-fashioned Highlander action-mystery story -- and of course, a love story as well.
The back of The Voice had colored advertisements all along its borders. In the center, the newspaper listed what looked like singles ads. At the top, the heading said Missed Connections.
Idly, he read the first one: We bumped into each other on the steps of St. Bartholomew's. You wore a red sweater and had a smile like sunshine. Meet me on those steps again tomorrow. I'll be waiting.
MacLeod smiled, intrigued by the romance. He read the next few ads. Most were explicit requests for illicit sexual encounters. Some were angry diatribes, petty irritations at perceived insults from strangers--To the a-hole who revs his motorcycle down my street at 4 AM, go eff yourself--but a few were lonely souls reaching out into the ether, searching for someone to connect with. They were random encounters, unknowns passing on the street or on the subways: a touch or a look or a glance all too brief, and then gone.
In the middle of the page, his attention was caught by a word.
You walked into my flat, and I threw you a can of beer. Then you said my name, a word now lost of all meaning. I think I loved you even then.
The afternoon sun glared across his eyes and the page blurred. He felt stupid, slow, not daring to believe his eyes, and read the same words over and over again. He knocked his coffee cup by accident and it spilled its last dregs before falling to the ground, shattering into tiny shards.
Methos.
Missed Connections