Title: Keep The Damn Table (1/1)
Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. Joss Wheden and Panzer/Davis lay claim.
Note: This is my first fic, ever. It is a short piece of weird randomness that popped into my brain late last night. Feel free to tell me I should keep my day job - Any and all comments and criticisms are welcome, just try to be nice about it :-) Also, completely unbeta’d, so any and all mistakes are mine.
Her training was going well. She was a natural, as Richie would say. She blushed a little thinking about the adorable immortal. He really was very sweet, and flirted outrageously every chance he got. Duncan alternated between liking the idea of his "kids" together and threatening to kill Richie. "If only it were that simple," she muttered to herself. She had met several of her mentor’s friends in the months following her arrival in Seacouver, and as nice and boyishly handsome as Richie was, she just wasn’t interested in him as more than a friend. She didn’t even have the sense to have a crush on her gorgeous teacher or the trouble loving Amanda, although she was sure she could come up with a fantasy, or twelve, involving herself, Amanda, and Duncan if she tried.
No, she had to go and fall for that cynical, smartass, older-than-dirt-so-I-know-everything, pain the ass. "Adam." She snorted in amusement. Only that idiot would find it amusing to name himself after the first man.
"Oh, so he’s the idiot in all this, huh? That’s why you’re sitting in your car talking to yourself, while he’s probably having a beer, or six, at Joe’s, or out somewhere having fun," her inner voice mocked. "He’ll never see you as more than a kid anyway. How could he? You haven’t even made your third decade yet."
She was snapped out of her reverie by the man in question opening her car door and sliding in the passenger seat. "You planning on sitting out here all day, Red?"
Completely flustered, she blushed and stammered, "Um, well, um, you see..." She quit talking and glared as he burst out laughing. She got out of the car, slamming the door behind her, and stormed into the dojo. He followed after her, and grabbed her arm. "Take it easy, kid, I was just teasing you." She glared at him again, and felt her eyes begin to tear up. She yanked her arm away, snapping out a "Go to hell!" as she hurried up the stairs. Luckily, Duncan had given her keys, since he wasn’t home. She was grateful for that, too. She didn’t want anyone seeing her cry over that man. She laughed slightly through her tears at the thought of using "man" as an insult. "Now I remember why I switched to women." She just knew her Goddess had to be looking down on her and laughing her ass off.
Methos came storming in looking both angry and confused. "What the hell was that all about?!?"
She turned away, but not fast enough to prevent him from seeing her tears.
"Willow? What’s wrong?" he questioned in a much softer tone.
"You wouldn’t understand."
"Try me. I’ve got a few years behind me-"
"Yes, of course I forgot. I am in the presence of Methos, the all-seeing, all-knowing. Or is that know-it-all?" She commented snidely. "Did you hunt a saber tooth tiger for breakfast growing up? Was there really an oracle at Delphi, or was that just you dishing out your infinite wisdom?" She knew she was being beyond bitchy, and needed to shut up, but she just couldn’t seem to help it. "How did you ever bear to date mortal women Methos? They all have less than half a century on them. We might as well be wearing diapers to you."
He stood there with his mouth hanging open, utterly surprised at her tirade. Then something she had said occurred to him. ‘We?" he asked.
"Them, I meant them."
"But you said we." He stalked towards her. She backed up into Duncan’s table, and he followed, placing an arm on either side of her, trapping her. "Freudian slip, perhaps?"
"What are you doing?" Her voice caught a bit, as he pressed closer. She kept her eyes fixedly away from his.
"Willow, look at me," he commanded. She shook her head, eyes cast downward. He took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him.
"Is that what you think? That I see you as a child?" He sighed. "Willow, you are anything but a child. Actually, I’m not even sure you ever were a child. You are a beautiful, intelligent women. I don’t remember the last time I so enjoyed talking to someone about anything, and everything. If I tease you too much, it’s not because I think you’re a child, but because I’m trying to distract myself from taking your clothes off and worshipping every inch of your body." He grinned wickedly at her. "And trust me, after all these centuries, I know a thing or two about how to worship properly."
She arched one eyebrow. "Oh, do you now?"
"Indeed I do"
"Well I’m not sure I believe you. In fact, I demand an immediate demonstration of this so-called knowledge."
He kissed her, softly at first, and then more demanding as she melted into him. After a few minutes, he started to pull back, intending to take this somewhere a little more private. She was having none of that, and pulled him back down to her mouth. He lifted her up onto the table as she started undoing his shirt. Their clothes were strewn all over the kitchen floor, and they were both completely naked on the table, trying to catch their breaths when Duncan came home.
His shocked "What the devil?!?" came from the doorway, where he stood, frozen in place. All three of them turned red, although Willow’s full body blush topped the other two’s embarrassment. She scrambled to find her clothes as Methos tried to explain, but words seemed to fail him.
"Never mind. I’m sure I don’t want to know." Duncan walked away from them, muttering, "I’m never going to be able to sit at that table again without seeing that image. Never."
As they finished dressing and headed out the door, Duncan yelled after them.
"Keep the damn table."