IF YOU DISLIKE FICS LIKE THIS PLEASE DO NOT READ IT OR FLAME ME.
Warning: a total AU, angst, drama, Hurt-comfort, m/m romance, m/m coupling, non con, torture, and recovery.
SLASH AHEAD!
Mail-Order-Brides (Highlander style): Something Unexpected
Written by: Jazzy (12/2006)
Pairing: Methos/Duncan
Rating: MA / Mature
Summary: A rewrite of Duncan Macleod's first meeting with the Ancient man known as Methos. Story takes place between the present and the past, in the old west. A Farmer needs a wife and instead he gets something totally unexpected.
CHAPTERS 1-3 Now available (Chapters 4-5 soon to be available, Chapters 6 through the Ending is in the works and coming... eventually.)
I do enjoy feedback so feel free to leave a review if you like?
Thank you kindly,
jazzy
Part One
1990s/The present
After learning about the watchers Duncan wasn't sure he liked the idea that he was being watched. It was rather creepy. Even if Joe seemed like a good guy. Duncan knew that in any organization, just like governments, corruption existed. Who was to say that Watchers' goals were something very different from what they tell their field agents. Keep tabs on the Immortals write their histories, sure but for who and when and why? Chroniclers of Immortal lives, it made Duncan shudder. He knew his Immortality was special that it was a gift but it was also a curse to live lifetime upon lifetime to watch all you have loved grow old and die, even countries come and go, nations going to war time after time. Mortal life was hard but Immortal life was never ending hardship.
At first knowing that it was Joseph watching him he felt somewhat benign even felt somewhat safe, yet lately he could feel something tense in the air. Instinct was warning him of something not good. Whether it was a Hunting Immortal or else some unforeseen and totally new tragedy was about to come to Duncan Macleod of the Clan Macleod. He had felt this oppressive weight only a handful of times in his lifetime and each time something harrowing and nerve wracking always came to play and wreak havoc and chaos in his life, upsetting its balance and causing extreme strife and intense heartache and pain.
Connor had spoken of Immortal gifts. "Every Immortal has something in them that can weave its own magic, Duncan. My own gifts for magic and reading of doom in the future is a little too prominent gifts of Ramirez and the old Magician I met in the mountain long years past. Cassandra is a witch, I am not, though I do have some ability for it, some affinity to it. In you Duncan there is little gift of magic but you do have uncanny instinct and a gift with the blade that few have. You have an affinity for spirit and body Duncan that is an amazing thing."
"You are saying I have no magic in me?"
Connor smiled at the perturbed tone of Duncan's voice. The look in his kinsman's eyes was one of complexity. Duncan was deep in thought and not sure that he liked not having any magic other than the quickening yet, he liked not having magic or having to learn a new set of rules and discipline.
"If those of you who do have magic come for me what shall I do, Connor? How do I defeat a magical opponent?"
Connor chuckled. "Keep your wits about ye Duncan, and listen to the voice inside of ye. Close out the voice that would impose its will on ye, close out the illusion and seek the heart of the matter as you always do. Look with your heart then with you mind. Let instinct be your guide and trust yourself."
Duncan shivered as that feeling came over him again. He glimpsed over his shoulder as he turned into the University Staff Parking and saw a troop of strangers in black suits sunglasses and a tattoo on one wrist march into the building. He frowned. What were watchers doing here? And why did they look like a death squad?
Special forces training and his four hundred years of warrior instinct rose up along with the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. Something wasn't right. He quickly dialed the police. He didn't want to antagonize the situation but he found his feet were taking him to the steps of the main building passing students who waved friendly at him. His students. His students could be in danger and he couldn't sit still and wait and do nothing. He dialed Joe's Bar. But felt that distinctive swelling presence and dropped his phone on the car floor. Joes' voice was tiny coming through the phone but Duncan couldn't bring himself to pull away his attention from the presence that was now filling him.
A presence he felt seep into his every pore and down through skin and bone to his core so deep into his very being. He felt his heart beat triple time it, felt his breath stop for a moment. Felt the joining of his spirit with his true self.
Adamson!
He couldn't lose Adamson. Not ever. Instinct told him Adamson was the target. Instinct screamed at him not to run not to get anyone's attention, but he ran. He was not going to Lose Adamson as he had all the others, others like little Maddie or adult Michael or his most recent loss Tessa.
Terror leant him more speed not the unearthly speed like Connor's but speed enough that made students and teachers alike blink with shock.
Why was Duncan Macleod running down the hallway looking like a hunted deer?
Suddenly gunfire came to life and students and teachers screamed in panic and fear.
For Duncan it felt like it was happening to someone else, he felt his mind and body disconnect from the situation, felt a strange fear tranquility come over him. He would not let Adamson or the children die. He'd glimpsed a sword in one man's possession. He didn't even feel his legs spring or launch himself into the gunfire.
Training took over.
He heard bone snap, heard a gasp. Heard a scream that was in a voice hoarse and desperate, that sounded like his own, but a voice in pain. The next man he connected with he took the man out quickly, going under his reach, snapping fist into nose and ramming bone into mortal brain, the man's gun now Duncan's and Duncan aimed at the one closest to the struggling Adamson.
Shocky hazel eyes burned into his own. Duncan felt his heart squeeze in pain as a knife came up to threaten Adamson's vulnerable neck another assailant coming up to Adamson from behind. Duncan fired his confiscated glock with perfect deadly aim, a bullet impacted brain and another mortal bit the dust. The last one, Duncan coldly, efficiently stepped into his space, and put the barrel of the gun to that one's temple.
Only after securing this man did Duncan than look at students and teachers and felt his nerves begin to burn with sensation.
He felt his knees give way as some weird seizure shook him and tears blurred his eyes. He didn't like to kill. But the kids were safe now and so was Adamson. What he had done had saved them. He smiled shakily up at Adamson.
"Hello Adam."
Adamson grinned at him, but his eyes showed deepening concern for his friend. "Hello Highlander. Been a while."
"God above." said Duncan shaking his head then quickly disarming and dismantling the weapon in his hands. "Damn guns. I can't stand the things."
"For someone against them you were definitely very efficient with it." teased Adam, trying to get Duncan out his state of shock. He was concerned that Macleod's hands were shaking and that his usually bronze skin was an unnatural pale color.
Duncan stayed on his knees for a little longer trying to get strength back into his body and to make his heart stop pounding in terror. What was it about Adamson that always did this to him.
"I really didn't want to be a hero today but when I saw you and saw where they were going…" Duncan's voice trailed off.
"Its alright Duncan, we're safe now. We're all alright. No one injured except for the bad men. You did a good job Duncan. A good job." soothed Adamson, kneeling at the distraught Scotsman's side.
"I can't seem to stop shaking." Duncan admitted quietly. "I called the police, they should be here soon and I, we should be going."
Duncan's voice carried that quality that a victim in shock carried in their tone after something traumatic has happened. Adam was concerned he hadn't seen Duncan this shaken in, well it had been five decades since they last had seen one another. Duncan had changed and yet not. Taking lives had never been an easy thing for Duncan. Taking mortal lives harder by far than Immortal ones for the Scot.
The Dean, a woman of distinct beauty and statuesque height carefully stepped up to her two professor's sides. "Duncan, Adam, are you alright?" she asked concern in her dark blue eyes.
She was as shaken as the rest of her faculty and staff and students. Duncan had been a beautiful glorious show of deadly grace and skill. He had killed with such amazing ability, breathtaking to watch even if it had been scary as well. Watching someone perform a dance of death was never simple or easy to watch. She had served in the corp. at one time in her youth and had suspected Macleod and Pierson of similar backgrounds as herself when she had hired them. Gentle compassionate each in their own way and right now Duncan was scaring her for a different reason. This was a man who had suffered too much seen too much, the edge was too close.
"Did you say you called the police?"
Duncan blinked at her in some shock, he was finally coming awake to his surroundings.
"Dean Miranda, where did you come from?" he asked gaping.
Adam shook his head and chuckled. "Come on Duncan my knees are killing me and I think this marble is starting to hurt yours as well."
"Actually, I can't really feel my legs." Duncan admitted sheepishly.
Both Adam and Dean Miranda blinked in shock then Miranda's eyes widened in sudden horror, her hand went to her mouth trying to cover her gasp as blood blossomed, pooling through Duncan's shirt, now Adam was taking off his coat and quickly clamping the coat to Macleod's wounds.
Adamson cursed colorfully and in three no four different languages. Methos knew how to play the game. How could Macleod be so foolish? He hoped Macleod didn't die while they were still in the eyes of all the mortals and on school property.
"God, Macleod! Miranda, we have to get Macleod to Hospice. Now." he commanded.
"Everyone back out now, back up, give them room. We'll take my car. Duncan hang on." she took charge and commanded the people about her like a general with her army. Duncan's vision was getting a little foggy, edged with red and black.
"You look good Adam…. Like your hair… spiky… its good… on you." gasped Macleod through a mouth suddenly dry as desert and sounding stuffed with cotton.
"Hang on Macleod. Don't you bloody die now." he hissed into Mac's ear, then out loud to the dean and for the students to hear. "Miranda, Mac's car is closest. I'll take him to hospital, you stay here see to the police and the students they need you now. I can take care of Duncan."
Duncan was a little surprised to find that Adamson knew what his car looked like let alone where he'd ended up parking it. How had Adamson known what his car looked like? The last time they had seen each other Studebakers were in not yet mustangs.
"Just die when we're out of site of Miranda and the school." Methos pleaded in silence with the dying Macleod.
Macleod seemed to hear him and did his valiant best. Miranda didn't easily give ground but seeing her school in turmoil her students' fearful gazes she had no choice but to submit to Adam's wiser command.
"All right, but expect us to go visit after this mess is cleared up. Hang on Duncan. Hang on, you're a good man we don't want to lose you. Just hang on. Don't die." insisted Miranda then she left both Immortals alone for Adam to care for Duncan and see to the Highlander's needs. She hoped fervently that Macleod survived. He was a good teacher and students loved and respected him as did many of the staff and faculty.
Duncan's phone was still live, Joe was barking into the receiver. "Macleod? Macleod! Can you hear me?"
Methos winced. Joe sounded pissed and scared all at the same time. "Hang on Joseph," growled Adam in some frustration, getting the car pulled out into traffic. Temper fraying he hissed in to the phone. "Your Macleod has been shot while defending our students and school from Watcher Terrorists."
"Adam? God what are you doing there? How do you know Mac? What's going on?"
"Joe, have you forgotten where Duncan now teaches? It was a fluke. We teach at the same University for the moment. I think we should have a proper conversation and not over the phone." insisted Adam. "Face to face. Watchers Joe, they invaded the school and were trying to kill me… Us… me … I don't know. Something's going on Joe. Something wrong and not right."
Joe Dawson held a breath for a moment. "All right where do you want this conversation to take place?"
"Macleod's flat, I would think. Can you give me directions?" he asked smoothly pretending he didn't know Duncan as well as Dawson for the moment believed he did. Which of course was the truth or at least the truth fifty years ago, hell a hundred and twenty years ago actually.
Joe was flummoxed.
Flash-Back (1800s)
Kit O'Brady and Walter Graham were never to be trusted again. Duncan decided as he scowled darkly at the receding shore line. He didn't know how or even why they did it but he swore revenge on them. He could take a joke as well as anyone and play along with it to the inevitable end. He had a sense of humor even if many didn't quite understand it. He could laugh and have fun along with the rest of them but this joke had gone too far. He didn't even understand how it came to this.
Kilt traded in for chemise and skirts!
He was furious with Kit and Walter. How could they do something so shameful to him? He was their friend. For friendship's sake he wouldn't take their heads but he'd make them grovel before he ever forgave them.
Bastards!
Guards on both sides of him, his "lady's escort" helping him to his destination. It wasn't so much that he was a prisoner so much as he was chattel sold and auctioned off and now being sent to some rancher out in the west, paying his "brother's debts" off with his own sweat and blood.
If Connor ever found out about this Duncan knew he'd never live it down. Connor would rib him for the rest of his eternal life. That teacher of his had yet to know when to let a joke go.
Bastards!
The humiliation of it all. He couldn't protest he dared not even try to show them what he was otherwise he'd be killed and though it wasn't such a bad thing getting killed he suspected it wouldn't be a slow death, being named a pervert usually resulted in slow degrading death and he really didn't want the name pervert added to his list of personal achievements and stupid reasons for getting killed, also, being killed slow then tossed off the ship could result in either being fed on by the fishes or a long hard swim and many times drowning before getting back to shore, and he preferred none of those choices either.
So play the part of the shrew to the end of his journey he would. Though he wasn't at all happy about it. He was a good actor but he didn't think he'd be able to pull it off so convincingly for as long as it took for him to get to where he was going. Then from there try to straighten things out with the poor schmuck that had bought himself a dud of a wife.
Bastards! He seethed.
It took him a few weeks to figure out that one of the guards actually had a crush on him. He tried to discourage the guard and carefully keep his disguise intact. The guard was a sweet kid but Duncan didn't think his or the guard's pride could take the humiliation if anything untoward should happen between them.
Chapter Two
- Present Day -
Macleod died before they reached his driveway. Methos was surprised to find it wasn't The Dojo but an actual little cottage in a peaceful suburb. There were rose bushes lining the walk way, some vegetables planted under one window, a weeping willow off set one side of the house while pine tress off set the other side and giving it a nice isolated feeling, yet a peaceful homey feel to it as well. Adam was impressed with the Highlander's new home. He wondered if there was room for guests. He was pleasantly rewarded with Macleod's returning signature. Doe-like brown eyes opened abruptly and the fit body reawakened to life with an inhale of air.
"Hello Highlander, welcome back. You'll have to pretend to be injured for a while. All those witnesses." Tisked Methos playfully, but his eyes showed his true seriousness and concerns.
Duncan scowled. Methos was glad to see it. It meant Duncan was coming back to his senses. The shock from earlier had died with the temporarily dead Immortal.
"Its good to see you're back to your usual self."
Macleod kept scowling at his tormentor. "I was surprised to sense you. You didn't even send me a card to let me know you were in the states, let alone in the area where I live now."
Methos shrugged. "After our last time together Duncan, I wasn't sure it would be a good idea to see one another again. We haven't exactly been good for one another Macleod."
Duncan sighed. "You have a point Adam. Neither one of us was ready to let the past go then. The pain was still so fresh…. So fresh in me even so long after…."
"You weren't yourself, Duncan." soothed Adam, holding Duncan's hand in his.
"You're always comforting me Adam. You spoil me. You always seem so much stronger than I. I can't keep doing this to you. I can't keep doing this to myself." said Duncan.
"There's no blame." insisted Methos. "What happened back then, that was no body's fault but Koren's. Melvin Koren killed our daughter, it was no one's fault but his." I should have killed him, long ago. But back then he seemed so much stronger than I. He was insane, a God, and I had followed him willingly. I was hurt and angry with the world at that time. "We made bad choices that led down a dark and twisted path to a duel. Michael was an adult, Duncan. I couldn't forbid him from marrying that woman, you know I couldn't. It was unreasonable. Sometimes I think on it and I look back into my memories on those times and I wish, Gods, how I wish I could have made different choices. Neither one of us were exactly in a good or healthy state after what happened to Madeline, Duncan, you know that." Insisted Adam feelings long buried of frustration rose within him.
This was futile. He should cut his ties with Duncan, go off to Bora Bora for a while, maybe return in a couple hundred years, maybe then Duncan would be at a good place and he as well for a relationship.
"It took me a long time Adam, I know I'm not completely well yet, maybe I never will be. But I want you to know Adam. I still love you. I am seeing Sean Burns and Darius. I've been working through the darkness in me. I want to be better. I want to have a healthy relationship with you. I wasn't expecting you so soon. But even five decades feels like an eternity when you are not with me." explained Duncan.
Their hands were entwined, Immortal eyes gazing locked onto one another lost totally into each other. If an Immortal with a killer's agenda had walked up to them just then neither one of them would have felt the distinctive signature, lucky for them it was a red headed kid and Duncan's student, Richie Ryan.
Richie was shocked. Duncan wasn't gay. But there he was lost in another Immortal's eyes, a male's eyes. Only Duncan Macleod's expression was a lot more intense than any expression he'd ever turned on Tessa Noel. It was a look of total consumption. Both Immortals looked about to devour one another and not in the cannibal kind of way.
Joe Dawson's distinctive steps and the tapping of his cane on concrete and stone, made all three immortals jump. "Mac, Adam, explain to me what's going on here." asked Joe plaintively.
Macleod blushed and looked guilty. Adam tried his best innocent look and turned it on his friend of ten years only to have Dawson give him a look only a father or older brother could give of perfect displeasure.
"Give it up Adam." said Mac. Patting Adam playfully on the cheek. "Joe's pretty intelligent. He's also a pretty decent interrogator. If you don't talk now he'll simply get it out of you later, when your off at his bar swilling down your favorite beverage."
"Duncan." growled Adam. "I am not an Alcoholic!" he protested.
Duncan shrugged and put on a very neutral expression, too neutral to be real. "Whatever you say, Adam, just know that I will sponsor you if you ever decide to take a 12-step program."
"And what were you ever addicted to?" demanded Adam.
"Oh, well, sex, I guess." smirked Macleod, leaving them all gaping as he leaped out of his car and glided to his door step, hips swinging playfully and seductively every step of the way.
"Bloody, cheeky, bastard." groaned Adam, eyes glued to Duncan perfectly round, perfectly taught and cushiony bum. A bum he could sink his teeth or hard flesh into, drown in. "bloody hell, he's going to be the death of me." he gasped in low murmur.
Joe Dawson raised an eyebrow. Richie Ryan blushed and looked any where but at Macleod or the strange Immortal in Macleod's thunderbird mustang.
"Well, are ye all coming in or are you just going to stand there all day in the sun?" asked Macleod, unlocking his door and stepping in to his home.
It was a snug cottage. Three bedrooms, medium sized front room and a large kitchen and a small dining room. One of the bedrooms was an office, and the last bedrooms was the master bedroom and the guest bedroom. Out in the back was a gazebo, large enough to practice katas in. Lots of trees and bushes to keep curious eyes out and allow Duncan some privacy and to train in peace if he didn't want to go to the Dojo.
Once everyone was settled inside Duncan changed his clothes and reached into the fridge and got out a large container of ice tea. He poured everyone a drink then sat down in the couch next to Adam. Joe was in the easy chair and Richie was seated in his favorite chair. Adam sorted through the many stories and lies his mind developed for him to use only to have his mind go silent as Duncan again took his hand in an easy and familiar manner.
"No lies old man." he insisted gently but firmly.
Adam sighed and took another sip of his ice tea. "Joe, I want you to know that I have the utmost respect for you and the watchers. I have not used the watchers to further any personal goals other than to keep out of the site of other immortals. "
"Who are you really, Adam." demanded Joe. Joe had to admit he was surprised by his own calm by his own acceptance of the situation. He knew watchers were hunting Immortals and right now it was a dangerous time for Immortals to pop up. He quickly corrected himself, shaking his head. "I don't think I want to know who you are right now after all, Adam. Tell me when the danger has passed and we can rectify this situation in a reasonable non lethal kind of way."
Duncan smiled. "Even I don't know who Adam is, only that he's very old and he doesn't play the game."
"And that the two of you are intimates and have known each other, how long?" asked Joe Dawson. "And Mac, why? I mean, as far as every chronicle has ever said of you, you're not gay."
"Joe." chastised Adam. "Most Immortals don't kiss and tell. We live hundreds of years. You really think there's a social label that really counts where we're concerned?" asked Adam, pointedly.
Duncan blushed. "Adam's my first, my uh, he uh, well it….." he kept stuttering and faltering.
Adam rolled his eyes and elbowed him in the ribs. "Let me tell it, Duncan since you're still so embarrassed by it."
"Its not that … exactly…. Don't give me that look. All right. You tell it. But by God Adam if you laugh."
"Come on Duncan if I can laugh at it so can you. It was actually quite an amusing tale how it all happened."
Duncan scowled stood up and went to cleaning his kitchen sink and putzing around in his cabinets. Adam looked at Macleod and shook his head amused again by Duncan's antics. "Dawson, might I introduce you to my 68th wife, Dunca Adamson." Duncan glowered at Adam's gracefully gesturing hand. The hand that was making a sweep in Duncan's direction.
Joe gaped as did Richie.
"M-Mac wha-what does he mean?" asked Richie stunned. Dawson's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. Duncan turned his back muttering about the sink needing some fixing.
"Don't be rude my little turtledove." teased Adam, in a falsely cloying adoring tone.
Duncan blushed even hotter. "I thought you were going to tell them how we met. Not tease me with foolish sap." Growled Duncan.
Joe Dawson laughed and so did Richie. "Oh my god Mac." they said in unison, laughing harder at the more crimson Macleod became.
Mac grumbled under his breath and left the room.
Adam smirked but it died quickly leaving behind it a serious look. "Now you guys, Mac has very sensitive feelings, its not nice to laugh at him." Insisted Methos. "At least not until after you hear how we got together."
Flash-Back 1800s
Pierce Adamson was a practicing medical doctor and a farmer, trying to make a living, trying to have a new start in life. Pierce Adamson had recently married a widowed woman with a young son. They were together for nearly five years and Alexa's son had known no other father than Pierce and Pierce had loved both mother and son desperately.
At some point Alexa fell victim to a scum drifter. Adamson who rarely lost his temper hunted the criminal down and killed him savagely. Alexa had forgiven her assailant even if Adamson had not. Alexa was a kind woman and strong in a way Pierce had rarely seen in the human race. She was auburn haired and had grace of spirit that Pierce was in awe of.
If there were angels on earth Pierce Adamson believed his wife would have been one of them.
Her first husband had been a good man as well but had been unable to survive the harsh life of a new settlement. Adamson and his wife were married for convenience sake but in truth Adamson loved her greatly, though he could never be certain if she had loved him in return. Though many of the people in town romanticized the relationship and often assured him that his feelings for Alexa were returned in kind and in depth. Yet Adamson was uncertain though he never let his wife know it. He treated her with all the love and respect in his heart. He loved her son as if he were a son of his own body.
At first he was upset after learning Alexa was pregnant. He believed Alexa believed the child was his own. But the child was the product of the rape done to his wife. He had thought dark thoughts for several weeks before his more pragmatic nature took over. Why hold a child responsible for the sin of the Father? Adamson did not believe in such things and had no religion to call his own. He soon embraced the excitement the situation called for. Alexa was going to have another baby and their house would be twice blessed for having two children within it. It was a true gift for an Immortal any time they were given a woman with children for Immortals could not conceive a child of their own. Every Immortal was sterile.
Adamson loved his wife and his family and his new home. When it came time for her to give birth to the second child Adamson was at her side, coaching her and supporting her, but complications occurred and she bled out. She had enough time to whisper her last words of benediction love and instruction. "I have loved you Pierce, I grew more and more in love with you as the months marched ever onward. I was lucky to have you in my life and God willing I will look on you and the children from our holy father's kingdom in heaven. Take care of our children my husband and find a good and loving woman to help you."
- Present -
Duncan came back into the room and was at Adam's side for a moment to rub his back and give him some comfort. "Alexa?" asked Duncan, compassionately. Adam fought his tears and wiped them on Duncan's sweatshirt. Duncan kept rubbing his back soothingly and lovingly.
"The town had not approved of Alexa. She was a widow and she married me too quickly. Many a female eyes had been on me and coveted me. I had been fresh meat. I was a doctor and well respected in the community. I had money and I gave advice in town meetings. Many a mother had introduced me to a ready and willing daughter. I chose a widow over fresh nubile social females. My Alexa suffered for it."
"They would be kind to my face and to me, but behind my back they chased her out of town and made her a veritable hermit, a homebody not welcomed in town, and I had been too stupid at the time to figure it out. On her death though I soon learned of the travesty of their treatment of her. I refused once again to marry any female in that town, old, young, experienced, inexperienced, I wouldn't even sleep with the prostitutes. I was so angry with them all."
"I was kept at home with my responsibilities for Alexa's children and though Alexa had beseeched me to find a new wife I was reluctant and stubborn. I wanted to raise the children on my own. But I could not. I had a farm and a medical practice to attend to as well as the socials and town meetings to attend. I was exhausted and killing myself. I needed help. I didn't trust anyone in that town. I thought of moving but, I had patience and my crops and… Alexa's grave was in the church yard there and I couldn't think of leaving her. I am usually much more of a pragmatist then that. I usually don't let my emotions get in the way of my survival. But I wanted, no Michale wanted, needed, to see her grave and I believed in making him happy."
"We had lost his mother. I didn't want to lose him. He was such a somber child and heart broken. His mother was dead, his father was dead, and he had only me and a new squalling baby sister who was growing more fussy and sickly as time went by."
- The 1800s -
Pierce Adamson was desperate for a wife but he still refused to marry any who lived in the town. He sent to his solicitor in the city a list of qualities he wished to have in the perfect wife. There was a tradition that had been ongoing for several years now, a practice known as Mail-Order-Brides, marriage contracts by signature and by mail, didn't need a priest any more as long as the contract was signed. Though often a priest was on stand by for the more traditional couples. The solicitor hired agents and searched the country far and wide, costing Pierce Adamson a pretty penny and promised to cost him more with time, time that was quickly running out.
He was desperate straights and needed a wife quickly.
He was hunted and hounded by every available female in town. Chased from his homestead to town and back again. Many of the women seemed not to have an ounce of shame in them. It was quite maddening and quite embarrassing for Pierce to be such a prize.
"Are there no available men in this town?" Pierce cried angrily, indulging his frustration with a well earned beer.
The other men just as drunk agreed with him. However there were some young available men who shot Pierce looks of envy and anger. They were forbidden to marry the girls of their dreams forbidden to even go near them or try to court them until Doc Adamson had chosen himself a wife and was once again off the market. They were not happy men.
Pierce felt more alive that night than on any other night before it, not only was he drunk but he had some wonderful news from his solicitor, a drawing had been send to him of a woman his solicitors believed to be a perfect match to his criteria. The drawing didn't do her much justice, in fact she looked rather like a spinster, and a little strong of features though not unhandsome in a masculine way.
Joe Dawson and Richie Ryan both spewed their Ice Tea. "Oh, my god and that wasn't like a clue?" asked Richie.
Both older Immortals glared at the younger one and mortal. "Shut up Ryan/Richie." they both growled in unison.
"Let me get back to the story will you." glowered Adam.
Macleod retreated to his kitchen and went back to fiddling with the pipes.
Back to Flash back
She was well tempered or so her brothers insisted and a very caring compassionate god fearing woman. She would be a help meet to her man the brothers insisted.
From the picture it was obvious why she had been single so long. Masculine features, still not an unlovely countenance. Still looks weren't everything and as long as she was willing to help with the children and love them as her own then he was happy to accept her for a wife.
The men drank to his good fortune and cheered for their own. At last Doc Adamson was going to be off the market.
PART THREE
Dean Miranda was worried. She had called three different hospitals and clinics in the area and non of them had heard of Duncan Macleod or Adam Pierson, nor of the shooting at the school. News cars were out front, a young blonde woman was badgering her students and faculty alike wanting details. Police were asking questions as well.
Bodies don't just disappear and highly respected and loved professors didn't disappear either. Yet for all intents and purposes it seemed at the moment they did. What was going on here? Was there some sort of conspiracy with Adam and Duncan in the mix?
No, that blood had been real. The fluctuating heart beat, the shallow breathing, the pale face, blood still pooled on the marble of her revered center of learning.
She was frightened. Had her professors been kidnapped while trying to get Duncan help? She was heart sick. She had liked both men very much. She tried their phone numbers and contacts trying to find them. At last someone answered Macleod's home phone.
"Hello, Mac's house, how may I help ya?" cheeky grin and smile could be heard over the phone line as well as a man's growl of irritation. A familiar growl of irritation actually. Dean Miranda felt her heart pound with joy in her chest.
"Duncan?" she asked.
"Hold on, who is this?" asked the youth.
"My name is Dean Miranda, I'm trying to find either Duncan or Adam Pierson, are they there with you?"
Richie's eyes widened. "Uh, hold on again. Let me see if …."
"Here give me the bloody phone." hissed another familiar masculine voice. Dean Miranda smiled, her eyes tinged with tears.
"How is Duncan? Why haven't you taken him to Hospital?"
"The man's a brat Miranda, and bloody stubborn. He lost consciousness but as I was pulling into Hospital he insisted he didn't need the hospital. He has a friend Dr Ann Lindsay. She patched him up. He's alive. Ann insisted Mac stay home to rest over the next few weeks. She said it was a miracle the bullet missed his spine and managed nothing in the way of internal injuries or mortal wounding. Macleod's not liking the bed rest but his system was in shock and with the blood and all that, he's been on a drip for a few hours. He's cranky. If he gets fevered I'll take him back to Ann. Mac doesn't like or trust doctors, Miranda. He was a real baby."
"I am noht a baby, yew bloody bastard, yewr lucky I'm injured or I'd kick yewr arse." Macleod's voice came loud and deep from a safe distance in the house over the phone.
Miranda smiled. Yep that sounded like an irritated Macleod alright, a stubborn alive and kicking Macleod.
"All right, both of you can have the weeks necessary to recuperate. I also expect you to join the students in the weeks to come for the counseling sessions. This was a very traumatic situation and I don't want anyone left behind in the recovery processes."
"Understood Dean. We will attend in three weeks. Thank you." said Adam, warmth, quiet, and sincerity.
Miranda was satisfied for the time being. She would of course make arrangements for visits as soon as Mac felt more up to visitors and if Adam would allow for visitation. She was stunned how much the two seemed to know each other. She wondered if the two had been friends sometime in the past or if they had been something more. On the phone they seemed very familiar with one another. Going back into her mind remembering the look of desperation on Macleod's face, the fierce protection he'd shown in his decisive actions towards Adam's would be assailants -- her mind came to a stuttering halt.
Adam's assailants?
Adam?
Had Adam been the target?
She kept replaying the moment screen cap by screen cap and she began to shake anew. Why would anyone try to kill Adam? Adam was sweet, shy, charming, okay and he had a sharp witty tongue that could literally flay a man alive to bare bone in moments. Yet that hadn't kept people from being drawn to him and liking him.
Macleod's aggressive protection, fierce fight with Adam's assailants spoke of a devotion that to her mind went deeper than friendship or even brotherhood. The two had to have been lovers at one time. She didn't know what was more shocking to her. Not that she was against homosexuals it was just a stunning revelation to have about two guys who seemed sizzlingly heterosexual. Both men sweated pheromones of sexuality not a single woman or man had been able to resist their magnetic pull. People either wanted to be with them or be them.
Miranda shook her head trying to dispel the shock her brain was in.
"Never judge a book by the cover" she muttered to herself.
She was curious about their past. How had they first met? How had they become lovers? Why had they split up? Had it been the service? Had Duncan been recalled? Or something else? Maybe something traumatic?
When she looked into both men's eyes she could see something old and painful in both of them. Too much pain for a single person to carry alone. What had it been that had split them apart? Would it be a good thing for them to get back together again or would it be just best for them both if they let the past go and not pursue a relationship now in the present? If they did get together again she hoped the two would find happiness together this time around.
Duncan's POV of events in the story telling.
Duncan sighed and looked at his friends.
"Its very embarrassing and painful to remember that time in my life, Joe. Adam and I met under less than spectacular circumstances. I still to this day cannot fully explain even to myself how it had come to be. One minute I was with the guys; living it up, gambling, drinking, womanizing; you know the things that bachelors do when they have no attachments at the moment to anyone. So, there I was with Kit and Walter laughing, having a ball. I think I may have been drugged or I drank too much, still not sure which. All I know is what was told to me years later, after a little payback was handed out." glower than smirk of righteousness. "It would seem that Walter and Kit owed some money, I had long hair at the time and looked "feminine" enough to pass for a woman." he spitout still rather angry about the whole mess.
"There was a private auction, and the two pretending to be brothers and on my behalf searching for qualified matrimonial suitors decided to kill two birds with one stone, namely auction me off and pay off their debts. For the most part I was basically sleeping beauty up to the point when I awakened on board a steam boat heading up river to a town with train passage to my new home in Dakota. To my continuing shame I hid in my disguise as a female up to the point when I met Adam, known as Doctor Adamson at the time."
"Now before that we had never formally met and he spent a good amount of money on my accommodations and for my... "Bride Price"..." more glowering. Adam smirked and took another sip of his ice tea. "Adam had used a friend of a friend to search for a bride for him to help him on his farm and raise his baby daughter and five year old son. I had every intention of telling my would be husband the truth of the matter that I was male and not female and come clean as well as pay him back the small fortune he had spent on me."
"Small fortune." snorted Adam. "more like every last dime I had in my savings at that time."
Duncan glared at his friend. "Adam had no intention to allow me to weasel out of that contract. He was already several months behind in getting his farm yielding up harvest. The children and the loss of his wife had done a lot to put him in dire straights." explained Macleod, blushing.
"Neither one of us had expected to meet another immortal," explained Adam. "At this time you could go virtually decades without running into our kind. So it came more as a shock to me that what I had done was purchased an immortal to become my wife. I was discouraged more than I could say that I had purchased an Immortal Female. I never get involved with Immortals if I can help it. And with the blasted woman being Immortal my misery could last a long time. A Marriage contract was taken very seriously in those days. You can then imagine part of my delight yet extreme puzzlement instead of a mortal female or Immortal one, I had a male instead." explained Adam. "It was funny," seeing Macleod's dark look, Adam sweated a little and amended, "Well, all right, I admit it not at first, but it was funny. Or rather it became pretty funny over the years and we came to laugh together about it, well alright not together, just me. Because unlike MacLeod I can take a joke."
"I can take a joke." Protested Duncan.
No one felt like contradicting him at least not while he still had the large monkey wrench in his hand.
Flash back (1800s)
On reaching his new home Duncan Macleod stiffened as an ocean of presence swamped him. Dressed in pounds of petticoats and under skirts and feminine garments Duncan was ill prepared for a fight, even with his Katana at hand under his skirts he felt that if he fought now he would lose his head. He had images of his skirts getting under foot and tripping him up to an ill fated end. He just hoped the Immortal he now faced would show him some mercy some honor and not take his head just yet.
His eyes were drawn to the lanky, dark haired, roman featured Immortal that stood before him. He looked tired and at his strength's end. The highlander's heart reached out to the unknown immortal with sympathy. He realized that this Immortal must be Doctor Adamson.
On his journey he had been told about his husband to be and his recent loss. Doctor Adamson was a good man, a doctor who helped his community and tended to the poor and rich equally. A good man who had suffered a terrible loss of his wife in their child's birth. He tried to save her but was only able to save the baby girl. with the loss of his wife and help meet he was floundering and unable to make a living. He needed a wife and a partner who would be willing to care for his home and children.
The lovelorn soldier took Duncan's hand and kissed the back of it. "He is a good man. He will treat you well. Till we meet again, adieu." he said he and his partner taking their leave of the property.
Methos for the most part could not believe his luck. He had run from every immortal to come his way in eight hundred years. Now due to a strange twist of fate he found himself in the position of breaking his number one rule "Never marry or get involved in a committed relationship to another Immortal!" Underlined, bold letters, his number one major rule.
The Immortal female was very handsome, strikingly beautiful in fact. Even if she was a little on the masculine side of femininity. Still he'd been married to worse looking females and on the upside been married to more lovely women before, but there was truly something magnetic about this Immortal female, almost like the magnetism he had felt three thousand years before for a similar female Immortal in a similar bit of circumstances, Cassandra. He shuddered and tried to shut out the memories that name and thoughts of similarities invoked in him. That wich was still hunting him to this day. She had a right to his head but Methos wasn't going to lay down and let her take him without running far and fast as he can and leave that particular encounter to the very furthest future possible.
Duncan knew he had three choices. Choice A) Pretend to be female until found out then get beheaded due to hurt manly pride. Choice B) Come right out and shock the man into a rage. Choice C) The same as choice A, hide behind my skirts and at the right time take my chances and make a run for it. No one can know of my shame or that I'm dressed like a woman and in this very unique and terrible situation.
Nearly three hundred years old and this is what you have to show for it, with all of your experiences how did you get yourself into this sort of situation? Haven't you learned anything during the centuries?
There were some hard, hard decisions that had to be made. Methos knew that female Immortals suffered greater than most males in the game. Females had been terrorized and enslaved all of their lives, victimized all throughout history and though women today were treated a little better than in centuries past, he knew that an Immortal female was bound to be a little more paranoid and a little more manipulative and a little more unpredictable than a male of the species and a hell of a lot more dangerous.
Methos had every intention of keeping the contact between them. He needed her. He needed to have his children looked after and he needed the townswomen, the available and not so available women to stop chasing after him. He wanted to live his life in some peace. Marriage would guarantee a little bit of that peace.
"Listen, I know we don't know one another. I know that we have nothing to trust between us and I realize now that the people parading as your brothers couldn't be your brothers in any blood relative way, sold you into a contract you probably aren't happy with. I do apologize for that. I swear to you I will not expect you to serve out the contract for all of our eternal lives. Nor do I have any intentions of taking your head. I know you can't trust me, but I do swear to you that you can trust me for the time being. I ask that you please serve this contract until my dead wife's children are adults, a decade maybe two at most. An equivalent of a mere blink of an eye in our immortal lives." he asked impassioned yet reasonably.
Duncan blinked. He couldn't say what it was that whispered to him to trust this unknown man. Maybe there was just something vulnerable and something too honest about the man. He looked warn thin, fragile. He felt ashamed anew for his dress and look. He should come clean now and explain what had happened. But how to explain something when you yourself are not sure of how it came to happen?
But one thing he knew without doubt that he had to do was come forward with the truth. The man needed to know the truth of his "wife". Taking a deep breath he let it out slowly and calmed his nerves then started unfastening his blouse.
Doctor Adamson protested. "Honestly you don't have to do that. As much as I would like to consummate our marriage its not necessary."
"Dunca MacLeed" glared then tore "her" blouse open, to Methos amazement he did not see breasts but rather a man's defined muscular chest. Methos blinked several times jaw hanging open. Was this Immortal one of those strange people who liked to think they were a female in a male body or was this Immortal a hermaphrodite? Very rare one of those, even in the mortal world, very rare.
"You must see that this marriage isn't going to work." insisted Duncan, brogue thick in his words making them almost indecipherable. But Methos' ear for language was discerning and he could easily interpret them accurately.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that Highlander." said Methos amused once his general shock wore off rather quickly but than again he was an adept at survival and at getting over shock quickly. He was very adaptable it had come in handy surviving all the years that he had with his mind still in tact. An Immortal unable to get over things quickly was a dead Immortal in the game.
Now it was the Highlander's turn to be shocked by the amusement he heard in the musical British baritone. A Sassenach and a Scotsman, oh no, such a marriage was not going to work.
"But." protested Macleod. "We're both men."
"Listen Macleod - Right? Connor Macleod's younger kin, Duncan right?"
Duncan tried to deny it but lying had never come easy to him. After starting and stopping a few times clearing his throat, he gave in, sighing he shook his head in exasperation.
"Fine, Aye, I am Duncan Macleod of the Clan Macleod. Just for God's sakes don't let Connor find out about this, alright?"
Methos smiled a smile that with the coming years Duncan would come to know very intimately, it was enigmatic, non-judgmental, graceful in victory.
"Listen Duncan, I have spent an awful lot of money on you and you signed the contract. Your writing is almost illegible but now that I know who you really are. I can tell you from this contract that your name is on it and you will serve it out. I can't afford another "wife" or the expense that travel will induce on me for providing her accommodations. Nor do I have the time to waste in waiting. Oh no Macleod, you are going to serve out this bloody contract and you'll do it in that dress until those kids are adults or until my new harvest yields me a fortune, whichever comes first."
Macloed's jaw hung open he glowered. "Now just wait a damned minute!" protested the younger Macleod. "This is not going to happen."
Methos shoved the signed paper into Macleod's face under his nose for brown doe eyes to read the strong masculine script "Duncan Macleod" signed on the wife's dotted line.
"Are you so without honor Macleod that you will not abide by your word on paper?" The eyes were fierce and the knowledge in their depths were cheeky telling him to call his bluff.
Macleod's cheeks blazed as did his eyes. "How dare yew!" he gasped. "I am not without honor." he protested defensively. "I have plenty of honor. You're the one being irrational… and…. And I'm a man! You can't expect me to wear a dress and to be your wife." hissed Macleod.
Methos smirked. "Yes I do. Just think Macleod, its only a decade, its nothing worth getting your frilly skirts in a knot over."
Macleod choked. "Please, I beg you, don't' make me go through with this."
"Sorry Macleod. I can't and I won't. I suggest you fix your blouse and come with me inside where my kids are waiting."
"Yew bastard. Have yew no heart? No shame? How are yew going to explain this to people? If Connor finds out about this… if anyone finds out about this…."
"We'll be burned alive or stoned, I have no doubt." said Methos, simply. "So I suggest you embrace your role and live it every minute for the next decade if you don't want anyone to find out about this. Not to mention I think Connor would probably just laugh himself sick over this situation, the man has a more twisted sense of humor than I do."
Duncan Macleod of the Clan Macleod glowered, heart sick and promising revenge on Kit and Walter and on the heartless Doctor Adamson.
"You'll regret this." promised Macleod, stubbornly.
"Do your worst Macleod, short of taking my head that is. You wouldn't be so dishonorable as to leave my defenseless children orphans would you?"
"Yew fucking bastard."
"Language, Macleod." tutted Methos.
"What do you expect of me Adamson? I am not a nursemaid. I know nothing of raising baerns."
"You may not be a nurse maid but you are my sixty-eighth wife and I have faith in you Macleod from all that I have heard of you and your kinsman I am sure you will learn quickly how to go about raising, as you call them, wee baerns, well enough I am sure." insisted Methos, unperturbed.
Macleod choked some more. "Heartless." he gasped. Hissed in shocked horror. "Sixty-Eighth wife? What! How old are yew?" demanded Macleod.
"Old enough." smirked Methos.
Macleod fumed and grumbled. "That's insane, sixty-eight wives, what did you do to them all? Murder them?"
Macleod was having a hard time dealing with that knowledge. He'd been tempted perhaps twice in his long life to wed and if this man was anything like Duncan than that could mean this man was practically ancient, perhaps even older than ancient, if such things existed.
Methos glared at him. Temper sparking in his tired hazel eyes. "No Macleod, the times are what killed them. War, old age, disease. I was lucky if I had a wife live longer then a decade after I was married to them. If it was foul play it sure as hell wasn't my deeds at work on them. They were mortal and the times were hard.
Fuming Macleod followed the lanky Immortal into his home and buttoning up his female over coat he made himself presentable to meet the baby girl and the little boy who would be in his keeping for the next decade. He would not make the kids suffer because they were innocent in all of this but he would not rest untill he'd made Doc Adamson pay and pay and pay for making him keep to the letter of the contract he'd signed while drugged.
TBC