Immortal History Lessons 6

Immortal History Lessons 6

Immortal Instruction

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She laughed and the rest of the dinner, winding up with dessert, left her sitting back in her chair groaning and laughing at the same time. "I'll hate you in the morning, but I'm glad right now that you talked me into dessert."

Methos laughed as he signed the bill and stood, coming around to Sydney's seat to take her hand.

"I'll be sure to leave you alone till late in the afternoon then. Are you ready?"

"That would be the wisest course," she replied. Her arm through his, they walked out to the car and she let him seat her first. "It's a lovely night," she said. "No rain."

Methos looked up and frowned. "No stars though, I miss the stars," he said before putting the car into gear.

"Yes, one of the many downsides of living in the city. I used to spend several weeks during the summers in the country with my relatives. I miss the stars too."

He watched her out of the corner of his eye as they drove. "Maybe a drive out to the city someday then? We can remind ourselves what they look like."

"All right. Sure. Someday."

Methos heard the maybe in it as they drove up to her apartment and he jumped out to open her door.

"Would you like to come in for a coffee?" she asked as he escorted her to her door. He took the keys and unlocked it for her.

Methos opened the door and cast his eyes over the apartment's interior to buy himself time to think. Whether she meant it to be or not, he didn't think he'd have the will power to leave tonight if he accepted.

Smiling apologetically, he handed Sydney back her keys and kissed her. It was gentle and short, and he pulled back before it could progress.

"I better not," he said softly.

Sydney looked a bit confused by that but recovered swiftly. "Sure. Another time, maybe. Good night, and thanks again for a wonderful evening."

"Good night, Sydney," he said as the door shut in his face. Methos let his head rest against the cold door and groaned. He was going to kill MacLeod for letting that dandy boy conscience of his rub off.

Sydney, meanwhile, kicked off her shoes, one of them skidding back under the sofa where the dust bunnies could attack it. She frowned, walking into the bedroom, undoing the zipper of her dress. "Something I said?" she asked the mirror. "I never can keep my big mouth shut, dammit." She stripped off the bra and panty hose and panties and tossed them in the dirty laundry. She pulled out her usual clothes for sleeping in, but frankly she wasn't very sleepy.

Dressed only in her boy boxers and a camisole top she padded barefoot out to the kitchen to make herself some ice water. She took the glass and walked back into the living room, dropping down onto the couch yoga style. She pulled the pins out of her hair and shook it out.

Then the doorbell rang.

She groaned. It was probably Larry who lived upstairs. He was always forgetting his key. She went to the door and opened it already saying, "I'm gonna tie a key round your neck..." her voice died away when she saw who was standing there. And then she blushed deep red as she remembered how little she wore.

"I don't actually think my actions warrant a key." Methos said as he tried not to rake his eyes across all the bare skin she was presenting him.

Methos had spent five minutes on her doorstep without moving, going over what was right and what was wrong. And then he settled for what was right for them.

"I... I thought you were Larry. He lives upstairs. He always forgets his key. Uhm. He's gay," she added perhaps explaining why she hadn't bothered to cover up to come to the door.

"There are advantages to being gay," he said, finally losing the will to not look. "Unfortunately they'll never reap any of them."

"Uhm, maybe I should get out of the doorway. Did you want that coffee?"

"Yeah," Methos said as he stepped inside. "I do. I'm sorry about before. Like I said yesterday, it's been a long time since I've done this."

Sydney backed up and let him into the apartment, her eyes scurrying around for some more cotton, or linen or silk or something. "Uhm, have a seat I'll make coffee."

"You change quickly," Methos pointed out as he sat. "I can go if you were headed to bed."

"Uh, no, it's fine. Just let me get a robe." She scurried into the bedroom and came out with a short robe that was a bunch of sizes too big for her. "There, that's better. I.. the shoes are uncomfortable," she added as she went into the kitchen.

Methos chuckled as he watched her scamper off and pulled off his trench coat, laying it aside so Sydney didn't accidentally sit on it and ask why there was a steel broadsword underneath the fabric.

She came back into the living room looking a bit less frazzled. "Coffee's perking." She perched on the edge of the couch.

Methos looked at her strangely. "I'm not taking up all the couch, am I?" He asked.

"No, you're good. Comfy?"

Methos smiled warmly. "You know, coffee can just be coffee if you want it to be."

"Uhm, huh?"

"Maybe I should go," Methos said standing, feeling like his foot was lodged somewhere past his molars at this point.

"Wait," she said standing up also. "I'm uhm, nervous. And if you touch me I might.. And god I look like an idiot."

"No you don't," Methos said severely as he turned towards her. He reached out a hand and caressed her cheek. "You're incredibly beautiful and nervous as hell." He said the last part with a little laugh. "And I don't want you to be. If you just want coffee, we'll have coffee. If you want more, then don't be afraid to ask me."

She ignored the last, or maybe hadn't heard it, and said, "Of course I'm nervous as hell. I'm fighting off the urge to toss you over my shoulder and take you in to bed with me. I've been fighting that urge since we started talking about dangly bits."

Methos laughed and it was the only sound she heard before she was shoved back against the nearest wall and his mouth was on hers, begging for entrance with his tongue like he had on stage as his hands slipped under her robe and pushed it off her shoulders.

If he wondered if she might have second thoughts, it became clear from her response she didn't. Her mouth opened to him and one hand went for his zipper.

Methos groaned into her mouth, gasping her wrists and pinning them against the wall. He broke from the kiss, moving his attention to her neck.

"Don't. Move," he whispered into the soft shell of her ear.

Her breathing was ragged and her heart pounded. He could feel the pulse in her throat. "Why not?" she gasped.

"So I can do this." He said as he released her wrists and smoothed his hands down her sides. His thumbs hooked in the tops of her boxers and dragged them down and off her hips. Kneeling in front of her, he pulled the boxers to her feet and had her step out of them. They were tossed aside, and the robe followed it once he'd stripped it from her arms.

She lifted her arms as he slowly pulled the camisole top up and over her head. Her eyes met his once the camisole went to the floor with the rest of her clothes.

Methos looked at her with lust drunk eyes, reaching out to experimentally cup one of her breasts and brush a thumb across the nipple.

It sprang to life at his touch, and one of her hands went up toward his face. she ran a finger across his lips. Her own lips parted, her tongue moistening them as she watched him watching her.

He kissed the finger and pulled her towards him, his hand slipping behind her knees as he lifted her in his arms.

"Where's the bedroom?" he asked as he nuzzled his mouth against her jaw.

She directed him past the couch and through the door. As he carried her, her hands were opening buttons of his shirt, carefully, one at a time, as if opening a precious package.

The bedroom was small and there wasn't much more there than the bed, one end table and one small bureau. The light by the side of the bed was the only lighting in the room.

Methos gently laid Sydney on the bed, positioning himself over her body as he pressed a knee between her thighs to part them. His hand found the tingling spot between her legs and his fingers explored her as he trailed burning kisses up her shoulder and the slope of her neck.

She got his shirt open and ran her hands up his chest, feeling the taut muscles, exploring the ripples of his chest. She moved as his fingers penetrated her, a little gasp of pleasure escaping her lips. Then her hands went to his belt, undoing it and finally unzipping his pants.

She laughed, a throaty little laugh. "Ah. dangly bits."

Methos smiled against her throat. "All yours, Eve," He said before his finger found that tight bundle of nerves and swirled his finger around it.

She arched up and gasped as his finger found her pleasure centers. "Stop. Clothes off," she ordered. "Tights too, if you're wearing them. I want to see every inch of you."

He chuckled and did as he was told. Kicking off his shoes first, socks following those. He took his time untucking the shirt from his pants and peeling it off, knowing there were eyes on him. He left the bed and stood to shuck off his pants, not having anything on underneath them he let the slick fabric fall to the floor in one motion as he kicked them aside.

She watched his every move, and when he rejoined her on the bed, her fingers traced the scar on his abdomen. Her eyes were huge as she took in it's placement and realized by all rights it ought to have been fatal. Next she found the tattoo on the inside of his wrist and kissed it. Her hand went to his groin, exploring his obvious interest and readiness, her fingers light now, exploring not yet actively encouraging him, but nonetheless causing him pleasure with that warm and inviting touch. Her other arm hooked round his neck and she pulled him down for an open mouthed kiss.

Methos's breath was ragged as he returned the kiss, his tongue dueling with hers for dominance as he dragged her down beneath him, grinding his pelvis against hers as he nipped at her lower lip.

Her hands went round his waist and explored his buttocks, and then her legs came up going around his waist. Her eyes were closed as he could feel her letting herself go, getting into it purely sensually, her mind ceding control to her body and to him.

Methos propped himself up on his elbows, brushing her hair away so he could see her eyes. "Sydney." he said gently, asking for permission.

Her eyes opened and it took a second for the sensual to give way to her intellect, but when it did she focused on him and said, "Yes."

He leaned down kiss her and he brought their hips aligned as he eased into her with one fluid motion. Holding her body close as they both let out sharp moans, he waited a moment for her to adjust before he pulled out a little and thrust back into her, biting down on her shoulder as he was surrounded by her warmth again.

She shuddered a little as a wave of a climax passed over her, eliciting a little groan of pleasure or passion as it did so, and her muscles tightened on him, drawing him inside her further. She clung tightly to him and despite her obvious enjoyment of what was happening she matched the rhythm of his thrusts and the way he pulled back.

Her hair was spread across her pillows as her body reached for more, her eyes opening to meet his, her look all sensual passion.

It was her eyes, her eyes and the way her body tightened around him that made his rhythm speed, that made him nuzzle into her hair and mumble Greek into her ear as his body took over for his mind his hands slipping under her shoulders to pull her into each thrust. She was clueless to what he was whispering besides her name, but Methos knew every single word of praise and lust that fell from his own lips.

Her inner muscles tightened at the thrusts, pulling him further in, making him shudder, forcing his body to struggle to maintain the point just before ejaculation when the pleasure was pain, the pain pleasure, the need was for release but the desire was instead to keep going as long as possible.

She shuddered as another orgasm washed over her, her own words not in any language other than primal passion.

Her orgasm took him with her, and her name was a harsh gasp between clenched teeth as he came. His body lost the will to support itself as he collapsed onto her, he rolled them in one motion with what strength he had left and held her as close as humanly possible as his body shuddered through the last pleasurable spasms shooting across every nerve as his body sang.

When he was finally still, he felt her move a bit, and his eyes went up to hers. There was a satisfied little smile on her lips and her eyes were still dark pools, her irises open from the passion. She moved enough to put her lips to his forehead and then put one soft kiss on each of his eyelids.

He sighed under such gentle kisses, a smile twisting his lips. He let his fingertips trail a path down her throat, her shoulder and arm, all the way down to her hand. Threading his fingers through hers, he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it.

"I'm glad you came back," she said, a smile playing on her lips after the kiss broke. "Just in case you couldn't tell."

"So am I." He said, his voice having a different timber as he tilted his head up to kiss the pulse point in her throat and feel it jump a little under his tongue.

"You were right," she said after a moment.

He pulled back and looked up at her. "About what?"

"Not needing to actually see you in tights."

Methos laughed and pulled her down into a kiss, smiling against her mouth.

She snuggled down against him, content in the circle of his arms. "And to think I have a hundred exam papers to thank for this. Perhaps I should give them all A’s."

Methos chuckled as he stroked her hair, then he fell silent. Twirling a strand of blond between his fingers absently as he thought.

"Do you remember what I said earlier about leaving the city to see the stars?" He asked softly.

"Hmmm. It reminded me of simpler times. Yes."

He smiled. "I was wondering if you'd like to see the stars under a different sky. Maybe Paris for starters, and see where we go from there?"

"Paris," she replied dreamily.

"We can go tomorrow. I can take you to the Louvre, maybe a dance on the Eiffel Tower, I can even introduce you to Joe and get a few free beers while we're at it."

She squirmed around so she could have a better look at his face. "Silly. I can't just go off to Paris tomorrow. I've got a job, more's the pity. And students and bills and.. well, responsibilities. But if I could... " her eyes turned dreamy. "Oh, if I could, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

"I suppose." He smiled sadly. "But Sydney...they're only dreams unless you go out there and do them. And you have so little time with so much world to see."

She nodded. "I am off this summer. Two more weeks of work though. Then I have two months of freedom."

"Is that a promise?" He asked, kissing her forehead. "Paris, Spain, Egypt, Italy... and whatever else I can fit in so little a time?"

She bit her lip, obviously thinking very hard about it. "All right. I can hock my jewels."

Methos rolled them over so he was looking down at her. "No you won't. I have enough to spend away your entire life abroad, all I want from you is you. And to see the world through your eyes."

She blushed. "That's really very nice but.. but I'd feel very awkward expecting you to pay all the expenses."

Methos scowled at her. "Fine, you can buys the drinks."

She scowled back. "Even at Joe's."

"But they're free at Joe's." He whined.

"Look it's a lovely thought, but .. but I hardly know anything about you. What'll I tell my father? That I've let some total stranger come in and whisk me off to Europe? Oh, wait... He'd tell me to go for it."

Methos leaned down and kissed her, later on he'd claim that her mouth had somehow short circuited his brain, because what came out of his mouth was not the well rehearsed words he'd planned on.

"If he's that worried, you can tell him that a 5,000 year old immortal is quite capable of protecting and taking care of his beautiful daughter." Moments later his mind kicked back in and his eyes widened a fraction. "Bollocks!"

"I've heard some whoppers in my time, but that one has to rank right up there," she replied with a giggle. "I can imagine you would be rich. Even getting only 1 or 2 on an investment, would accrue you a handsome fortune indeed. Too bad you can't see into the future. Did you buy IBM and Google when they were a dollar a share?"

Methos groaned and let his head fall to rest on her breast. "Again, tell a lady the truth and she doesn't believe you." He sighed. "And if you hold onto souvenirs from your younger days it turns out that they’re worth a pretty penny in a few centuries or so."

"Yea, I can imagine. People pay a good deal for quality antiques. Although I'm not sure what a 5000 year old man would fetch on the open market."

"Now you're just laughing at me," he grumbled.

"Well, aren't you laughing at me?" she asked, a grin on her face.

But Methos wasn't smiling. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out before getting out of bed and padding naked out of the bedroom. He came back with one of Sydney's letter openers and knelt on the bed, pulling her up so she'd do the same.

He took her hands and curled them around the handle of the letter opener, pressing the point over his heart. He held it there, his grip strong on her hands as he looked into her eyes.

"Sydney, my names not Adam Pierson." He began slowly. "I've only had that name for the past thirty years, soon I'll have to change it so people won't wonder why Adam doesn't seem to age. I'm 5,000 years old, an immortal. My real name is Methos and I can't die."

Then without warning he thrust her hands forward and the small blade pierced his heart. Methos cried out in pain and fell back on the bed, pulling Sydney with him from his grip still tight around her hands.

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