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crack_van2005-01-30 10:18 pm
elistaire.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2005-01-30 10:18 pm
Entry tags:
Ol' Green Eyes is Back by Carene (NC-17)
Fandom: HIGHLANDER
Pairing: Methos/Duncan, mentioning of Methos/others
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
carenejeans
Author Website:The Garret
Why this must be read:
Jealousy.
It makes the world go 'round. Immortals are not immune from it, either. And they live a long, long time--allowing for the building up of a whole mess o' jealousy.
This darling little story treads that fine, faint line between serious angst and comedic audience winking, dancing along the edge of envy. It is set after The Modern Prometheus, and offers up unexpected insight into the Duncan-Methos dynamic, one small emotion at a time. Serious at moments, and at others, downright silly, it shows that human emotions are sometimes the things that make us tick.
Beautiful, beautiful brown eyes; I'll never love green eyes again. Indeed.
Duncan did look rather stunned. And a little intrigued.
"But trust me, MacLeod. You can read poetry without worrying about me lurking between the lines. Yeats, Neruda and e.e. cummings were all safe from me. Did you really think that I've shagged everyone famous, fucking my way through history like some randy Forrest Gump?"
Duncan busied himself with returning the books to the shelf, but Methos thought he heard a small snort.
"You may be but a callow youth compared to me, but you know how it works. Most of the people I've slept with have been humble, lowly, ordinary people. Sixty-eight wives, MacLeod! And even I can't name them all. As for the rest -- lovers, whores, johns, supplicants -- that's where you'll 'find' me, among the forgotten."
Duncan was silent.
"And even the more well-bred -- or at least high-born -- people I've 'known' in the Biblical sense are pretty obscure nowadays, which would piss most of them off. Their names are far from household words, if they're remembered at all. I didn't fuck Rembrandt or Socrates or Napoleon or Virginia Woolf."
"That's a ... relief, I suppose," Duncan said. There was the hint of a smile on his face.
Methos put the memory of Shakespeare's best bed firmly out of his mind.
"Of course, I have done a lot of fucking in my over-long life," Methos continued. Perversely, now that Duncan seemed to have relaxed, he couldn't resist twisting the knife a bit. "Actresses, adventuresses and aviatrixes," he began in a sing-song voice. "Butchers, bakers and candlestick-makers. Cab drivers and chorus girls, drayers and duchesses..."
"Are we going through the whole alphabet?" Duncan folded his arms across his chest. Methos couldn't tell if the edge in Duncan's voice was irritation or amusement. He pressed on.
"...Engineers, fishermen, gun-molls, hog-farmers... Highlanders." He looked sideways at Duncan to see how he took that last.
Duncan's lips twitched at the corners. "Please, continue your bragging," he said.
Ol' Green Eyes is Back
My last rec. *sniff* The end of January so soon? I've had a ball driving the van for the month. Thank you all for letting me navigate. :)
Pairing: Methos/Duncan, mentioning of Methos/others
Author on LJ:
carenejeansAuthor Website:The Garret
Why this must be read:
Jealousy.
It makes the world go 'round. Immortals are not immune from it, either. And they live a long, long time--allowing for the building up of a whole mess o' jealousy.
This darling little story treads that fine, faint line between serious angst and comedic audience winking, dancing along the edge of envy. It is set after The Modern Prometheus, and offers up unexpected insight into the Duncan-Methos dynamic, one small emotion at a time. Serious at moments, and at others, downright silly, it shows that human emotions are sometimes the things that make us tick.
Beautiful, beautiful brown eyes; I'll never love green eyes again. Indeed.
Duncan did look rather stunned. And a little intrigued.
"But trust me, MacLeod. You can read poetry without worrying about me lurking between the lines. Yeats, Neruda and e.e. cummings were all safe from me. Did you really think that I've shagged everyone famous, fucking my way through history like some randy Forrest Gump?"
Duncan busied himself with returning the books to the shelf, but Methos thought he heard a small snort.
"You may be but a callow youth compared to me, but you know how it works. Most of the people I've slept with have been humble, lowly, ordinary people. Sixty-eight wives, MacLeod! And even I can't name them all. As for the rest -- lovers, whores, johns, supplicants -- that's where you'll 'find' me, among the forgotten."
Duncan was silent.
"And even the more well-bred -- or at least high-born -- people I've 'known' in the Biblical sense are pretty obscure nowadays, which would piss most of them off. Their names are far from household words, if they're remembered at all. I didn't fuck Rembrandt or Socrates or Napoleon or Virginia Woolf."
"That's a ... relief, I suppose," Duncan said. There was the hint of a smile on his face.
Methos put the memory of Shakespeare's best bed firmly out of his mind.
"Of course, I have done a lot of fucking in my over-long life," Methos continued. Perversely, now that Duncan seemed to have relaxed, he couldn't resist twisting the knife a bit. "Actresses, adventuresses and aviatrixes," he began in a sing-song voice. "Butchers, bakers and candlestick-makers. Cab drivers and chorus girls, drayers and duchesses..."
"Are we going through the whole alphabet?" Duncan folded his arms across his chest. Methos couldn't tell if the edge in Duncan's voice was irritation or amusement. He pressed on.
"...Engineers, fishermen, gun-molls, hog-farmers... Highlanders." He looked sideways at Duncan to see how he took that last.
Duncan's lips twitched at the corners. "Please, continue your bragging," he said.
Ol' Green Eyes is Back
My last rec. *sniff* The end of January so soon? I've had a ball driving the van for the month. Thank you all for letting me navigate. :)
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Thank you.