This is a short story I wrote for a fiction challenge recently. Hope you
enjoy it

Methos and Star Trek concepts and races belong to their creators, Triona
belongs to me. A story in the Bloodties Series
(http://www.ondragonswing.com/tales/btarchive.htm) Rated PG13

Thanks to Sophie for beta reading, and thanks for reading!


Bajoran Holiday
c. 2006

"Shhh -- don't look," he whispered. Methos pressed her farther into the
shelter of the doorframe, gathering her close.

Triona shivered in the damp night air, her heart racing as the tension
mounted; clenching her fingers against his shoulders as she tried to do as
he said and not look. The feeling of danger -- of being trapped -- crawled
up her spine. It would be dawn soon and they were no closer to escape than
they had been when the night had been young.

As the sound of booted feet grew closer, Methos began to nuzzle her throat,
his hands roaming her body; the perfect picture of a man only concerned
with the needs of the flesh. But she could feel the anxiety in those hands;
feel the tautness of his body against hers. They were so close. ‘Please let
them pass us by,’ she prayed silently as she steeled herself, preparing to
fight if the need arose.

For a moment, she thought they might be home free; then the feet stopped.
Methos squeezed her arm in warning and reassurance. "The hour is late and
the night foul," a gruff voice said. "What is your business?"

"Pleasure, Constable. Pleasure." He moved his hand deliberately up her
thigh. "It's hard for a man these days to get any privacy -- if you know
what I mean," he said conspiratorially.

The other man snorted. "I do indeed, citizen. And I must admit, that if I
had your good fortune I'd risk the night as well." Triona could hear the
leer in his voice. She only hoped he didn't expect Methos to share his good
fortune. "Just take care. The city is full of malcontents who would break
the peace." Triona held her breath as the soldier paused. "Enjoy your
pleasure." She let her breath out silently.

"I will, Constable. Have no doubt."

The soldier chuckled. "I haven't a one! Come along, men! At the least we
can be glad that someone this night is in the arms of a woman."

As the sound of marching feet moved away, she sagged against him in relief.
Taking her face in his hands he kissed her hard, his fingers tangling in
her hair.

"That was too close," she said a little breathlessly as their lips parted.

"It wouldn't be if someone's picture wasn't on wanted posters all over the
city!" he said with exasperated fondness.

"Like it's my fault!"

Methos just shook his head. "We'll discuss it later. For now, we need to
get you to shelter and then out of this godforsaken city."

"I'd prefer to get off the planet entirely," she said as they made their
way down the almost deserted street.

"That's the idea. But we need to make contact with the resistance first.
Thanks to your latest bit of drama the Cardassians have doubled all the
security points out of the city -- not to mention off Bajor."

"It was an opportunity we needed to take!" she hissed, miffed at the tone
of censure in his voice.

He pulled her closer to his side. "You were supposed to be reassuring the
Bajorans of our continued support. *Not* leading bombing raids on
Cardassian munitions depots!"

She bit back her response as they slowed, approaching what appeared to be a
storage facility. Methos tapped in a code on the security panel, and the
door whooshed open. They entered slowly, hands held in front of them to
show they were friends. As the door closed silently behind them, Triona
spoke a word into the darkness, "Iona."

A dim light suddenly appeared in the darkness. "Thank the Prophets! We
feared you'd been captured!"

"No. Just delayed," Methos told the Bajoran, shooting Triona a look.

"We're glad you made it." The man moved closer to the two, holding up a
lantern. "You've done more to increase the moral of the resistance with
your actions here than anything we could have hoped for," he said earnestly.

Triona flashed Methos a look of triumph before responding. "I'm glad we
could be of aid."

“Please, follow me. You must be tired and hungry.” Nodding, the two
Immortals followed him down the dark corridor.

“Next time you want to take a trip off planet, I’m making the travel
arrangements,” he told her, sounding more than a little aggravated.

Swallowing her laughter, knowing that Methos really wasn’t all too pleased
with her right now, she asked, “Not your idea of a romantic getaway, dearest?”

“As a matter of fact, no!”

Wrapping her arms around his waist, she grinned. “To each his own.”

Shaking his head in exasperation, he put an arm around her shoulders,
giving her a little shake. “There are times…”

“When you could kill me?” she finished helpfully.

“Amongst other things.” Exhaling sharply, he leaned down to whisper in her
ear, “And you, my recalcitrant wife, are going to find out what each and
every one of them are when you make this up to me.”

End


Ith ~~*~~ ithildin@... ~~*~~ Denise
::When you flirt with death, you run the risk that death
has something more serious in mind. ~ James Taranto::
House M.D.: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/DrHouse/
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