tiny_ninja | there are heroes and thieves at my door; i can't seem to tell them apart anymore; (Reply)

Feeling nostalgic today.

Though I should be plotting my novel for NaNoWriMo, I wrote some Imperial Story snippets today. I don't expect it to go anywhere - the Imperial Story is my long suffering sci-fi epic, and I haven't had the time or determination to focus on it in a few years now. Still, it's nice to get back into the head of these characters for a while.

Then, after dinner, I started rereading Bellflower, which is a Highlander fanfic I started in 2014. It's the sort of fic I'm hesitant to post, since it's a rewrite of the HL stories I wrote (and loved) in high school, focusing on newbie immortal Donna Matthews and how she takes her first head. At this rate, I'll probably never finish it, but I've reworked Donna for roleplay purposes a few times now, and this story is still one I love. If I ever do write an ending, it'll be for me and no one else.

My writing style has changed a lot since I wrote this. I'm cringing a little as I read it, but I'm not editing, I'm just enjoying. And buried within this fic is probably the best Methos-as-Adam scenes I've ever written.

"I see." Adam shifted, so he was leaning in closer, voice low enough so only she'd hear him. "He has no idea, does he." It wasn't phrased as a question, and he didn't sound curious. To anyone else it might have seemed like they were flirting, Nathan would perceive it as such, but Donna knew otherwise.

She shook her head, just slightly. "Not a clue. I'd like to keep it that way."

"They always find out eventually," he said, and there were years behind those words, an edge, a cynicism. "If that's what you want, best to cut your losses now, run for the door."

"I've known him since I was nine years old." Donna still remembered the playground, of pulling Nathan to his feet from where the bullies had left him, of bringing him home and listening to her dad play piano for them. Those had been happier times. Simpler times. "I couldn't leave him now. I owe him my life."

"Youth," Adam said, "clings to these things. You'll learn to let go."

Brushing her hair out of her face, Donna rested her chin in one hand. "Is that what you do? Why you travel so much?"

"It helps. Then you find which one of your friends are stubborn enough to stick around."

Donna smiled. "Like Joe. And Mac."

"Precisely." Adam grabbed another handful of peanuts, and without even thinking, Donna reached over for them too, leaving the bowl between them. He smiled, and there was the shyness again, and Donna bit her lip, watching his face. "You learn what works for you, in time. We have plenty of it."

"Some of us do." She glanced over her shoulder, spotting Nathan chatting up a guy in the corner by the stage. They both seemed like they were enjoying themselves, and that was all Donna needed from the night. Nathan deserved to be happy. They both did.

His brow furrowed, but he made no move to pull away from her. "You don't think you'll make it."

"I've got someone trying very hard to make sure I don't." Damn it, she'd said she wasn't going to talk about it, and there it was, the elephant in the room. She took a long sip of her beer, trying to collect herself. "So until that's taken care of, I'm not assuming anything about anything."

Adam's only response was a shrug. "We all die eventually," he said. "Some of us later rather than sooner." And he left it at that, his hand lingering near hers, next to the bowl of peanuts. "So, English, hmmm?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah. Literature, actually. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"It always does. It pays off sooner or later." The bartender brought them another round ad a fresh bowl of peanuts, but Adam didn't so much as turn his head. "I take it you're not teaching or anything now?"

She laughed. "Oh hell no. I was working in a coffee shop. It's where all of the English majors end up after college." Not that Donna would have been better off with a music degree, but maybe she wouldn't hate herself so much for it at the end of the day.

"Was?"

"I quit." Because Jeremy knew where she worked and thus could find her there. If she'd been smart, Donna would have fled the country by now. "So now I'm the stereotypical broke college grad living on my parents' couch sans the couch and sans the parents."

To her surprise, Adam didn't comment on it, or ask why she'd said that. He only reached over for her hand, gave it a little squeeze, and then pulled away. The movement seemed so natural, and done so suddenly, that she barely had time to react to it before he was gone. "You'll figure something out," he said.

"That's the plan." Donna tried to smile, and for once, it came out the way she wanted it to. She couldn't spend her life living in the past, remembering old mistakes. The only way to go was forward and she wasn't Jeremy's girl anymore. Not anymore. Not ever again. "Are you sticking around for a while? Here in the city, I mean."

"For now. Who knows where the wind will take me."

"Well," Donna grabbed her glass and raised it to him in a toast, "here's hoping we'll get to see each other again in the future."

Adam's smile was lopsided, but genuine as he brought his glass up to clink against hers. "You can bet on it, Miss Matthews."

"Just Matthews is fine."

"I think I prefer Donna." He paused, "You have beautiful eyes. Like bellflowers."

There it was, that blush again, and this time Donna couldn't hide it. She looked away, biting her lip. Okay, was that considered flirting? With his tone of voice it was hard to tell, either way. "No one's ever told me that before," she admitted, without meaning to. "So... thanks."

"I only speak the truth.” He reached over the bar and plucked a fresh coaster from a container on the opposite counter. The bartender looked startled, and down the way, Joe only shook his head. "Here's my current number," he said, jotting it down on the back of said coaster. "So we can keep in touch."

When was the last time Donna had actually gotten a guy's number? It wasn't like she was trying to flirt, necessarily, but she would take it. If nothing else, Adam could be a friend, an Immortal friend, someone else she could ask questions to if Duncan wasn't around. It wasn't that she didn't think Duncan would be honest with her, she knew he would, but the Highlander had such a strict code of honor at times that she wondered if she might get more of a "real world" answer out of Adam. "Thanks," she said, palming the coaster, toying with it between her fingers. "Grab me another one, I'll give you mine."

Adam grinned. "Should I consider this an honor?"

"Yes." After all, only a few people had this number now. Nathan, Duncan, Joe, and her old boss at the coffee shop, Lily. That was it. "Don't be giving it out, now."

He held the coaster against his heart for a second, as if making a vow. "You have my word."