Date: Sat, 02 Jan 1999 00:11:03 PST From: S G <sgmf@hotmail.com> Subject: Enshrined Food This is a story that is centered around the TV series Highlander. Please see my first story entitled soul-mate.html posted on 07 Nov 1998 on Nifty in the gay-male/celebrity category to get a brief overview of the series. A series overview is provided at the beginning of that story. As always, comments, critiques and constructive criticism are welcome at sgmf@hotmail.com . Sincerely, SG 01 Jan 1999 ------------------------------------------------------------- Disclaimer - The characters of Methos & Richie belong to Davis - Panzer Productions. I am just borrowing them for a moment and will return them unharmed to ACMF's universe. What she does with them then is her business. This story is adult in nature, and features homoerotic themes (M/M). If you're not yet 18 or are easily offended, read no further. The story takes place in the great Borg Collective of ACMF. If you chose to read further, you will be assimilated. Finally, as you know "Archangel" doesn't exist in the collective and was never assimilated last year. Thanks to MMF for acting as my editor. ------------------------------------------------------------- Enshrined Food Part 1 -- The Trip Methos stood quietly on the balcony of the small rented house, his long frame resting on his elbows against the handrail. His gaze drifted casually towards the horizon where he strained to make out the shoreline of the Mediterranean Sea. The quiet, still evening was like a soothing balm poured over his troubled soul. The scent of the countryside coupled with that of the sea beyond sent a familiar, yet haunting shudder through the older Immortal's body. Why did it seem he was drawn to the outskirts of Alexandria only when he was troubled? On this evening though, it was not his problems that consumed his heart with worry. Turning around, his backside now leaning against the handrail, the ancient Immortal looked through the patio door to watch his young companion fuss over the evening meal. The landlord, an old friend, had his wife prepare and deliver the feast at sunset....as was the custom during this most holy of Muslim celebrations, the month of Ramadan. Methos smiled to himself as his eyes silently followed the young red-head, who was making his way around the eating area, lifting lids and smelling the scents of foods that were foreign to him. The older man let out a deep sigh. The two Immortals had left Seacouver under difficult circumstances. Methos closed his eyes momentarily as his mind recalled the memory. ********** "I just don't get it Methos," Richie said, the sadness dripping from his voice. "I mean, what good is Immortality if all you get to do is bury your friends every twenty-five years or so?" "Richie....," Methos' voice trailed off. "No, Methos, just listen," Richie said quietly. "Maria was my friend. We grew up together. I always thought we would be friends until we were so old it wouldn't matter." Richie stopped to wipe the tear from his cheek. "When I became Immortal, I knew then it would be me that would grieve for her, but I never thought it would happen so soon." The distress in the young man's voice carved rivers of pain in the older man's soul. Methos knew....knew how hard the loss of mortal friend or lover could be. Several millennia of loss was etched forever in his heart. The older Immortal reached out and placed his hand on the side of the younger's neck, his hand coming to rest on the curls that brushed against the young man's shirt collar. Methos used his thumb to rub a small curly ringlet against the pink flesh peeping above the collar. He knew he had to let Richie get it out....to express his grief in whatever way was comfortable. "I don't know how you've been able to handle it," Richie said. "How have you been able to survive in their world for so long?" the young man questioned. The ancient Immortal removed his hand from its resting place and turned away, not wanting to stare into those beautiful pools of blue, which at any moment would be brimming with tears. "Richie, I don't have all the answers. The only thing I can tell you is, in time, you will learn to accept their world as fragile....fleeting. Sooner or later you will see that you can live in their world and not be of it." Richie winced, tears falling silently, streaking his soft, flushed cheeks. "I don't know if I will ever be able to do that." Moments passed before Richie continued. "But who knows, right? This is just so hard because we were friends before I was Immortal, before I knew about the game and its rules. Before I knew Mac or you or Joe." Richie said, his voice trailing to barely a whisper. Methos quietly slide his arm around Richie's shoulder, giving the grieving young man a tender squeeze. "I know this won't help much now, but you do have some things going for you. I mean, your transition into the game was made easier because you had a teacher you could trust before you needed him. And you have made several Immortal friends, once again ones you can trust. These help, and believe me they do, as the mortal shell you once lived in falls away." Richie looked over to the man who still held him lightly. Wiping the moisture from his cheek, he gave what Methos had begun to recognize as his trademark....that killer smile. Methos released his hold on the young man and in taking one of Richie's hands, lifted it, lightly planting the briefest of kisses on its backside. "Does it get easier?" Richie asked. Methos frowned as he released Richie's hand. The question was simple yet direct. Toying briefly with lying to his companion, the older Immortal quickly abandoned that idea. "No it doesn't, you just learn to handle it before it happens if you want to survive," Methos stated matter of factly. "Oh...." was the quiet response. "I have an idea. When you're ready, why don't we leave and get away for awhile. A change of scenery would do you good. I know it has helped me on numerous occasions." Methos stated, hoping the young man would jump at his offer. "Yeah, I know. I have been on the receiving end of your disappearing acts *numerous* times!" Richie exclaimed with a slight smile. "Ah....well I didn't mean it that way," Methos volleyed back. "Hey, it sounds like a good offer. At least I'll get to see where you go when you leave before I wake up," Richie said with a trace of his usual spunk. "Methos, " Richie continued, his voice noticeably weaker. "Yeah," Methos said, turning once again to face the beautiful boy-man now standing within inches of him. "Promise me one thing though," the young man asked trying to minimize the pleading tone of his voice. "What?" was the elder man's brief reply. "Promise you won't disappear when we get to wherever *away* is," Richie quietly asked, head and eyes downcast, his hands now resting, one on each slender hip. He felt foolish for the asking, but he knew could not handle this part of his Immortal lover's behavior right now. Methos, sensing the plea of his young companion, reached over and lifted the chin of the one face that sent chills through his soul. "I promise," was his reply. ********** The two Immortals left Seacouver within a few days of their discussion. MacLeod looked worried when Methos told him Richie was leaving for awhile....with him. "He's in real bad shape. He could get himself hurt," MacLeod blurted out in the way a father would blurt out his concerns over a troubled child. "I know Mac. You and I both have been there, we know the dangers of depression," Methos said in the most reassuring voice he could muster. "I *will* watch him," the older Immortal said as he turned to leave. MacLeod, grabbing Methos' shirt sleeve, said in a stern voice, dark eyes glaring, "You *had* better." Part 2 -- The Meal "Say Old Timer, are you coming in before the food gets cold or what?" Richie questioned, bringing Methos out of his trip down memory lane. "Yeah, I guess we should eat. God forbid you would miss a meal!!!" was the ancient Immortal's quick reply as he reentered the small living room. "What's all this stuff? It smells kinna funny," the younger Immortal stated as he continued to lift lids to peek inside. "And why is everyone waiting till sunset to eat? Will we have to do that?" Richie stated, the worry very obvious in his voice. "It's Ramadan. The Islamic holy month in which fasting during the daytime is part of the ritual. And no you won't *have* to do that! Egypt is not at the end of the world you know," Methos said as he passed by the young man, cuffing him lightly on the side of the head. With that, Methos took charge of placing the contents of the pots on to the serving tray that was provided. Dishing up the meal on a single platter, Methos sat down on the floor with legs crossed, placing the large dish on the floor in front of him. "What....we're eating on floor? Where are the forks and spoons?" Richie asked in a slightly shocked tone. Methos shot the young man an annoyed look. At times Richie's lack of *experience* excited him beyond verbal expression and, at other times, it annoyed the hell out of him. "You know the saying *When in Rome*?" Methos answered back. "Well, we certainly aren't in Rome but we are definitely somewhere where the customs are different, so sit down and enjoy the experience." Methos motioned to a spot next to him. Richie smirked in disbelief as he reluctantly sat next to the older Immortal. "Hey, at least tell me what we are eating?" "Fair enough. This is called Cous-Cous, " Methos said as he pointed to the white grain-like cereal on the platter. "It's topped with a thick stew." The young Immortal stared at the platter. "Cous....what....ah....Cous-Cous....yeah right," was his smart-ass reply. "What's that on top?" he asked as he contemplated on how in the hell he was suppose to get this into his mouth. Methos let out an irritated sigh. "That's mutton and potato stew. It is served on top of the Cous-Cous. *And* for your information, this is called Hummus and this is called Baba Ghannooj. The first is made with garbanzo beans and the latter with eggplant," the older man stated as he provided a tour around the serving platter sitting in front of them. The red-head, looking down at the food, rolled his eyes upward to glance at the man next to him. Methos, sensing Richie's astonishment continued the food tour. "And this *brat*....is bread!" he said as he took the long, hard loaf and lightly smacked the young man on the top of his head. "Smooth, real smooth....a food fight and I need a damn interpreter to participate!" Richie rallied back. "What smells funny?" Richie said quickly as he wrinkled up his nose. Methos shook his head slowly. "It's the stew, mutton and potatoes. It does not *smell funny*. You just are not accustom to it!" he exclaimed, the impatience in his voice apparent. "Mutton as in *Bah, Bah, Black Sheep*?" Richie said as a frown spread across his handsome and eternally young face. "Are you sure this sheep is safe....to eat that is?" he said with a flourish that served to further annoy the ancient Immortal. "You're impossible, you know that. Just shut up and eat!" Methos ordered. With that, the older of the two rolled up his the sleeves of his sweater and scooped up a small helping of cereal with his right hand, making sure to grab a small piece of mutton and what appeared to be a small, well rounded potato. He finished by inserting the entire serving into his mouth. Richie's gaze never left his partner. With his jaw slightly ajar he watched as Methos inserted the juicy mess into his mouth and chewed. Methos, aware that he was being watched, returned his attention to the food on the floor. Taking the hard, crusty loaf of bread in both hands he broke off two pieces, dipped them in the Hummus and handed one to the silent, hungry young man. With slight hesitation, Richie accepted the offering, carefully watching what Methos did with his piece. Methos sensing the attention, bit off a piece of the bread and bean combination and chewed it slowly. The older Immortal then proceeded to offer the remaining morsel to his young companion. When Richie reached out for the tidbit, Methos pulled it away, shaking his head. As if it were a prize, Methos held the gift slightly higher and directly in front of the full lips that were so familiar to him. Catching on, Richie parted his lips and accepted the token as it was offered. A slow, half grin appeared on the older man's face. Returning the favor, Richie split the bread and bean mixture in his hands into two pieces. Placing one of the halves into his mouth, he chewed slowly then offered the other half to the older man. Methos, sensing the release of Richie's initial apprehension, accepted what the young man had to give. As he took the bread into his mouth, Methos made sure to gently suck on the offered fingertips of his youthful companion. Richie smiled. "This hum....uh....what ever you called it isn't all bad," he said, fully aware of the tingling sensation moving slowly throughout his body. Methos' attention returned to the platter in front of them. With his right hand again, he scooped up another serving of Cous-Cous, adding a piece of meat and another small, round, firm potato with the movement. Without dropping a single crumb, Methos opened his mouth wide to eat the serving, licking his fingers and lips in slow, deliberate strokes. Richie, knowing he was being egged on, scooped up a small amount of the cereal, mutton and potato mixture with his right hand. Raising it to his mouth, he exclaimed in disgust "Oh shit!" Within seconds, Richie's dinner was on the floor in front of him. Methos snickered as he watched the young man wipe away the juice that ran down his arm onto his shirt. "It's washable," was all Methos said. Richie shot the older man an evil glance as he now rolled up the sleeves of the cotton pull-over he was wearing. Attempting a second try at the platter, Richie scooped up the deadly combination and tried to get it into his mouth. The red-head winced as he felt moisture trickling slowly down his arm. Methos seeing the red-head's distress, grabbed the young man's wrist and inserted the food into his own mouth, carefully taking time to run his tongue over the slender fingers that he knew so well. As the ancient Immortal continued to stare directly into those clear pools of blue, he allowed his tongue to travel down the red-head's palm. With quick strokes, Methos lapped up the juicy mixture there. Lifting the young Immortal's arm slightly higher, Methos' tongue continued its journey over his companion's pulse and around his slender wrist. Light, gentle strokes down the inside of Richie's forearm caused the familiar stirrings to ripple in waves through the young Immortal's body. As Richie's breathing deepened, Methos recognized the sensations cascading over his own body....so familiar....so Richie. The ancient Immortal continued his journey down to the slight bend in the young man's arm. His tongue, hot and tender, licked away the remnants of their meal while tasting the very essence of the young man, now so intimately familiar to him. Letting go of his young companion's arm, Methos skillfully scooped up another serving of the grain-like cereal, adding in one quick stroke, a small morsel of mutton and an oval shaped potato. Lifting his hand towards Richie's slightly parted lips, Methos beckoned his companion forward. Richie, leaning forward to accept the old man's offering, opened his mouth. Methos gently placed his offering past the young man's soft, full lips. As Methos withdrew his hand, Richie grabbed the older Immortal's arm. Without breaking his hold on the hazel eyes of the ancient one, Richie swallowed his companion's food gift, then proceeded to lap up the remaining juice that lingered on Methos' fingertips. Taking each finger one at a time, slowly into his mouth, Richie's soft tongue moved delicately to remove the remaining traces of the main course. The old man smiled. "So, does the meal please you now?" he asked the young man who was staring directly at him. Richie, fully aroused, moved closer to his companion. Planting the briefest of kisses on the older Immortal's lips he whispered "I never knew sheep...I mean mutton and potatoes could taste so good!" The End