AUTHOR: Tisienne Blue
E-MAIL: tisatko@msn.com
DISCLAIMER: I own no-one other than Serena... all other characters are the property of their respective companies/ producers/ creators/ studios...
NOTES: This is an X-over btwn. Buffy, Angel, Highlander,
and Pretender. It is a gift for Nat, in honour of her birthday. She requested
a W/A piece with some Methos thrown in, and
Pretender is there just for me, cuz I'm a Jarod
fan... *******= change of scene/ location, and ~~~~~~~~~~ indicates passed
time within a segment. For my purposes, the totally suck 5th
season of Highlander never happened.
RATING: A hard R, I hope... eventually...
PAIRINGS: W/Methos, W/A, Serena/Jarod...
DISTRIBUTION: Charity can have anything I ever write... anyone I've said yes to can as well... List archives, OK... otherwise, just ask!!!
FEEDBACK: is generally a good thing!!!
DEDICATIONS: Nat, of course, cuz it IS for her... also Mystra, Janet, and FldaGirl27... thanks for the feedback!!! Also for the CO in its entirety... you rock, chicas!!!*G*
MORE NOTES: OK, to those of you waiting for parts
to my other series', I can only say that I'm trying to find some extra
time in my days... but there will be more of everything within
the next week or so... I PROMISE!!!
&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*
<< Apt. 39-- 12:30 am >>
Angel sat on the couch, staring fixedly at the
door to the redhead's room. He didn't know what had happened, but... she
hadn't been acting the same since they'd left the club. Inside,
she had been warm, and affectionate... dancing
with her had been like a small slice of heaven for him, and he'd begun
to hope that maybe, just maybe, she was feeling the same
things for him that he was for her. Once they'd
left, however, things had been completely different. She had barely spoken
to him, and the few times he'd reached out to touch even
her hand, she'd pulled away. He couldn't understand
it; it didn't make any sense.
He sighed, running the fingers of one large hand
through his hair. He didn't think that he'd done anything to upset her,
and in fact she wasn't acting like she was angry, or unhappy, or...
anything, really. He hated to think it, but...
maybe she was just tired of him. After all, they'd spent most of the past
three days together, so... maybe that was her limit of Angel-ness. He
sighed again, slumping against the back of the
couch.
If that was the case, it was a real shame, because
in that same three days he'd come to the conclusion that there just wasn't
any limit to the amount of Willow-ness he could take... he
wanted it all. All of her nights, AND her days...
for as long as she'd have him. Which, he reminded himself, didn't seem
to be very long at all. He stared sadly down at his hands, so lost
in thought that he didn't even notice it when
the door he'd been staring at so intently earlier opened just a crack.
Willow was feeling guilty. She'd been feeling that
way ever since she and Angel had left the club, and she really wished that
she didn't know why, but she did. She knew that she'd
closed herself off from her friend, and she knew
that he was aware of it. The knowledge had been written in his eyes, and
across his face, the entire way home, and she could tell, as
she pressed her eyes to the small space between
the door and the jamb, that he was still trying to figure it out. It was
apparent to her eyes, mostly because her friend had obviously
gotten himself a brand new brood. The problem
was, though, that she didn't know how to shut down the new feelings she
was having for him without shutting down all of them.
It wasn't a situation she'd ever been faced with
before... the only basis for comparison she had was the time when she'd
fancied herself in love with Xander Harris, and that had been
totally different. That had been about fear, she
realized... fear of being alone, fear of losing her best friend to some
other girl, and even fear of never being seen as desirable. This
wasn't that. If she was going to be honest with
herself, well... sure there was still some fear involved. She was afraid
of what Angel would say if he found out just how much she cared
about him, afraid that he wouldn't want her, but
mostly she was afraid that he might. He was a vampire, and would live pretty
much forever, while she... wasn't.
She closed the door just as quietly as she had
opened it, and sat on her bed, fingers plucking anxiously at the hem of
the gray tank top she wore with her green plaid pajama bottoms.
No, she wasn't going to live forever. She would
age, and grow old, and eventually die, or at least she would if some ghastly
critter didn't get her first, and somehow, while she could see
Angel sticking around through all of that, she
just couldn't picture herself letting him. Then there was still the whole
Angelus issue. How could she even begin to think about
approaching him when she knew, deep down inside,
that neither one of them could ever have the strength to resist that possible
moment of pure bliss?
No, she decided, laying back, her crimson hair
spread out on the covers behind her, it was better this way. She'd spend
time with Adam, and eventually she would forget all about her
feelings for her friend, and then... well, then
things would go back to normal. She sighed, sitting up, and reached for
the phone beside the bed. It was time to call the gang, and tell
them that she was all right, and in Paris with
Angel... she wasn't looking forward to it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
<< Hotel George V-- 3 am >>
"Serena," Jarod called sleepily, "Come back to
bed." He sat up slightly, spotting her through the open door of the bedroom,
and sighed. He should have known she'd be at the
computer. He rolled smoothly from the bed, not
bothering with the robe that had ended up on the floor earlier, and walked
out into the living room. "Serena," he said again, placing
his hands on her shoulders as he stepped up behind
her, "It's too soon. There won't be anything to see until tomorrow, at
the earliest..."
The redhead sighed, nodding, and leaned back into
his hands when they began flexing against her muscles through the robe
she wore. "I know, love, I'm just... impatient." She sighed
again, tilting her head back to look up into his
eyes. "It's just... I want it done! I want it to be over, and Angelus dust!
My brother will be avenged, and the world will be a much better
place without him in it..."
Jarod nodded slowly, and bent down to press a soft
kiss to her lips. "I know you believe that, Ser, and you're probably right,
but staring at the screen isn't going to make it happen any
sooner. Now, come. back. to. bed!" He stepped
back a little, his hands sliding down her arms, and pulled her to her feet.
The redhead turned towards him, her eyes gleaming
wickedly as they passed over every inch of his nakedness. "Hmmm..." she
purred, finally locking her eyes on his as she quickly
licked her lips, "And if I do... what's in it
for me?" Her voice became a touch silky as she stepped into his strong
arms. "Because, I gotta tell you, J... I'm not really all that tired right
now..."
Jarod groaned out loud, his arms tightening around
her as he started walking backwards to the bedroom, taking her with him.
"Depends," he said, almost crankily, "On just how tired
you're not..."
Serena chuckled at the way his tone of voice was
completely at odds with the look on his face. "Actually, love," she said
softly as they reached the bad, and she pushed him down flat
on the mattress, "I'm completely awake... and,"
she continued, a slight hitch in her voice as she looked at him laying
there, dark against the white sheets, "Apparently so are you... or
parts of you, anyway..."
He gasped almost harshly when she shed her robe
and crawled slowly up his suddenly too hot body. "Ser," he moaned against
her lips before losing the ability to speak yet again that
night.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
<< China Club-- 3:30 am >>
Methos sat at the bar, sipping slowly at a glass
of single malt Scotch, while Joe said goodnight to his band mates. It had
been a long day for him so far, and it looked like it was going
to be even longer. It didn't help any that he
had no idea of what was going on with Willow and her friend; for all he
knew, they could be off at their place making wild, passionate love.
Of course, he hoped that they weren't, but...
No, he didn't really think that Willow was the type to jump into that sort
of thing, especially with a vampire, no matter how much she might
care for him. And she did care for Angel, of that
he had no doubts whatsoever... but then, why had she sounded so interested
in seeing him in the morning? He sighed deeply, staring
into his drink. Over five thousand years, and
he still didn't understand women. He didn't notice his friend watching
him as he realized, yet again, that he probably never would.
For his part, Joe was heartily amused. It was nice
to see the immortal all in a stew over one small slip of a mortal girl,
mostly because it was a sight he'd only seen once before, and
that time it had been doomed before it even started.
There was one thing that was bothering him, though, and he was for damned
sure going to get an answer out of his friend before
he'd let things go any farther... not that he
could actually stop Methos, but he could at least make him stop and think.
"OK, my friend," he finally said, almost laughing when the
immortal jumped in surprise, "Tell me the truth.
You want the girl, that much is obvious, but... how much of it is because
of who she is, and how much is because of WHAT she is...
assuming you're right about her being the legend-girl,
I mean?" Joe shook his head quickly when the much older man would have
responded immediately. "No, Methos, I want you to
think about it... REALLY think about it, because
if you want her because of the legend, then..."
The oldest immortal sighed, but did what his friend asked. He truly thought about it.
"I don't know," he finally said. "I really like
what I've seen of her, but... it's all one thing in my mind. Who she is,
what she is, I don't know that I can separate the two. I searched for her
for so long, and I... I just don't know." He shook
his head, taking another sip of his drink as he continued to mull it over
in his mind.
"Well," Joe said, clapping one hand to his friend's
back, "Don't you think you'd better figure it out before you take things
any further? Although," he added, as he made his way towards
the stage, "It might be a moot point, considering
the way she was dancing with her 'friend' tonight..." He grinned to himself
when his friend groaned. "They looked pretty close, to
me..."
Methos sighed again, knowing that that was true...
after all, he'd been telling himself the same thing ever since he'd first
seen them walk onto the dance floor. "Yeah, they did," he
said, sounding just a bit concerned. "But maybe
Amanda can talk to the girl tomorrow night... find out exactly what's going
on... I think Willow'll like her, so maybe she'll open up to
her..."
"Whoa! Amanda's coming back already?" Joe asked, surprised, from his spot on the stage, "What about MacLeod?"
Methos laughed. "MacLeod, too... apparently they
finished whatever it was they went away to do." He shook his head in amusement.
"I don't think I'll watch the news for a few days; I
don't want to know what's suddenly come up missing."
Joe stared at his friend, his brow slightly furrowed. "You don't think that MacLeod would help Amanda..."
"Oh, please, Joe," the immortal interrupted, "Like you could tell her no, either..." He gazed back at the mortal, until they both broke into wry laughter.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
<< Apt 39-- 4:30 am >>
The vampire grinned to himself as he heard the
little witch tossing fitfully in her sleep once again. He wasn't entirely
sure, but he thought that maybe her restlessness, along with the
occasional barely heard mumble of something that
could have been his name, might be an indication that she wasn't quite
as indifferent to him as he'd thought earlier. He wasn't
quite ready to bet money on it, but he was for
damned sure going to find out! And the best way to do that, he figured,
was to see how she reacted to his face being the first thing she
saw when she opened her eyes. He hoped it would
be a good reaction, but...
He smiled again as he grabbed his coat and headed
out the door. There was a twenty-four hour grocery across town, near the
luxury hotels... maybe if he made her some breakfast in
bed, she wouldn't be angry with him for entering
her room uninvited.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
<< Hotel George V-- 5 am >>
Serena smiled at the mumbled question coming from
the tangle of sheets on the bed. "Hush, love," she said softly, pulling
on her boots, "I'm just going down to the store for some
cigarettes... I'll be right back." She waited
for a moment, until Jarod settled back into sleep, and quietly left the
room, grabbing her coat from the closet in the living room on her way
out of the suite. She hadn't intended to run out
of smokes, but somehow, between the club and the time she'd spent with
Jarod, setting up the search program that was still running on
the computer, she'd smoked a good bit more than
was usual for her. She smirked as she exited the stairwell and crossed
the lobby... it wasn't as though the cigarettes would kill her,
anyway.
She slipped quickly through the main doors of the
hotel after waving shortly at the desk clerk. The hotel would have been
happy to send someone out for her, regardless of the time,
but she just felt a need to get out into the night
air for a few minutes. Fortunately, the all night grocery wasn't too terribly
far away, and she was there in less than five minutes.
Her business with the grocer took less than that,
even, and she was back at the hotel, and in her room, before fifteen minutes
had elapsed. So intent had she been on making her
purchase, that she hadn't even noticed the tall,
dark-haired vampire who had been shopping whilst she was buying.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
If he'd have had a heartbeat, he was fairly certain
that it would have stopped when he saw the tall red-haired woman at the
counter. She looked an awful lot like... but it wasn't
possible. He slowly moved closer, unconsciously
keeping the long line of the aisle between them while he stared at the
back of her head over the metal rack. She was turned away from
him now, but he knew what he'd seen. Hell, her
voice was even remarkably similar... no accent, but... No, he told himself
again, it couldn't be her. There was just no way. She would
have been dead for at least sixty years by then.
It was just someone who bore a remarkable resemblance to her; it had to
be, because... it just wasn't possible that that could have been
Serena...
He waited for a few minutes after she left before
fleeing the store himself, his shopping forgotten. He hadn't thought about
Serena for years, and he didn't particularly want to think
about her now, but... what could he do? He frowned
to himself as he jumped into the cab he'd had waiting, and by the time
he reached the apartment, he was deep into yet another
brood. He sat on the couch, staring into space,
as the rising sun lit up the window shades from behind. He hadn't felt
so bad in a good long time.
End-- pt 8