With Friends Like These
by Suze


Not mine. No money changed hands.

NC-17. No shit-- sex, language, threats of extreme violence. I covered all the bases this time. No angst, of course. Sexual frustration doesn't count as angst no matter what Kiltboy says, right?

I know I'm late for the official anniversary celebration, but I couldn't help it. I was busy. I had to work. I had prior commitments. The dog ate my homework. And on top of all that, my cat's in heat. Poor baby. Duncan knows just how you feel. <g>

Duncan and Methos weren't going to cooperate at all, but Amanda can be very persuasive. Really, really persuasive. There we were, the boys were cuddled up on the couch watching Three Stooges videos, I was over in DOS happily wasting my time shooting little green aliens-- when Amanda tapped on my shoulder and said "I've got an idea."

God bless all Amanda muses.

Forty-five minutes. Just forty-five more minutes and it'll all be over.

Four hundred years old and counting. At this rate I might not get much older. I may drop dead of a heart attack any second. Can an Immortal have a heart attack? If I did, would they even notice? Probably not.

I should know better than this by now. I should. I should have learned more about my limitations by this point in my life. I should know what I can and can't take. I should definitely know not to trust Amanda's judgement. Not about something like this. Dear God, what was I thinking?

Stupid, MacLeod. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Even Richie would know better than to try something like this. God, that's embarrassing.

Methos. It's all Methos' fault. Amanda could have talked until she turned blue in the face, but I never would have agreed to this if it hadn't been for Methos. I'll have to kill him, of course. Oh yes, I'll feel a lot better after I kill Methos. Maybe more than once. Slowly. Really, really slowly.

Damn him and his 'it's okay, Mac,' his 'we understand, Mac.' He knew that I knew what he really meant. I know 'you can't handle it, Mac' when I hear it. Self-righteous, smirking, manipulative bastard. When did he get to know me this well?

I'm definitely going to kill him. I'm going to get my hands around his skinny neck and twist if it's the last thing I do. And when he revives I'm going to pick him up off the floor and do it again. And I'm going to enjoy every delicious, excruciatingly  painful second of it.

Oh, sweet Jesus, look at that! Dear Lord, help me! If I can just survive the next forty-five minutes without making a fool of myself, I swear I'll never do anything this stupid again.

How the hell did I get myself into this? What the hell was I thinking?

Calm down, boy, think about something else. Anything else. Something comforting.

Forty-five minutes. In forty-five minutes I can kill Methos. That's comforting.

Why the hell did I agree to this....

"Two hours." Amanda smiled at Methos and reached for the wine bottle. Trust Amanda to know where MacLeod hid the good stuff.

"You're kidding, right? Ninety minutes, max-- on a good day." Methos waited for Amanda to refill his glass then leaned back into the couch and resumed his sprawl.

Both Immortals felt the buzz at the same time and turned their faces to the elevator, but neither one moved to get up or even bothered to glance towards their swords. After all, anyone coming to the loft through the dojo would have had to get past Duncan first, and they both had a lot of faith in the Highlander.

"What are you two arguing about now?" Duncan put his sword away and headed across the loft, changing direction toward the kitchen when he got close enough to read the label on the wine bottle. He'd given up getting angry with Amanda about things like this years ago, but if they were going to spend Sunday afternoon sitting around drinking his best wine, he'd need a glass.

"We're not arguing, we're discussing." Amanda lifted the bottle again and waited for Duncan to take his seat in the armchair before stretching from her seat on the floor in front of the couch to fill his glass.

Duncan looked at Methos and raised a brow in question. No help there. Methos sipped his wine and stared back. Damn. The oldest Immortal could do blank and disinterested with the best of them. Duncan looked at Amanda-- she gave him her best 'innocent little me' look in return. Okay, they were going to make him ask. The question now wasn't what game were they playing, it was did he really want to know what game they were playing. More to he point, could he afford not to know? Probably not. Fine. Whatever they were up to now, and he knew they were up to something, Amanda was the weak link so he'd work on her.

"Do I want to know more about this discussion, or should I just go out and come in again?" Duncan leaned back in his chair and sipped his wine. "Good wine. Of course, at two hundred dollars a bottle, it should be." Amanda pouted and took the bait. She hurried to shift the subject away from Duncan's wine cellar.

"We were talking about self-control and discipline." With a monumental effort that stopped just short of choking him, Duncan managed not to spit expensive wine down his shirt front. Unfortunately, his Herculean effort not to spit temporarily shut down the oxygen supply to his brain, and he responded without his usual careful forethought, with no consideration for possible adverse consequences.

"Discipline? Self-control? You two?" Duncan didn't need to see Methos' reaction to know he'd just made a mistake, but a well developed sense of self-preservation demanded confirmation anyway. Without turning his face from Amanda's affronted stare, he shifted his eyes sideways to peer at Methos. The narrow lips were twisted, the hazel eyes were slitted and dark, one long forefinger was tapping a staccato rhythm against the wine glass. Shit. Not just a mistake, a serious mistake. New question-- did he have a chance in hell at damage control, or should he just attempt to brazen it out?

"Actually, MacLeod, we were discussing your discipline and self-control." Methos' lean hips shifted as he settled into an even deeper sprawl, letting one long-fingered hand drop to Amanda's shoulder. "Amanda seems to have a lot of faith in you, and she's known you a lot longer than I have, so maybe she's right."

Methos' eyes narrowed even more as he smiled. It was a rare thing for the ancient Immortal's feelings to show so clearly on his face, and Duncan should have been warned. It was a very revealing expression, an expression that promised many things-- a few of them evil, most of them dangerous, all of them guaranteed to send shivers of fear down MacLeod's spine-- if he'd been paying attention. Unfortunately for Duncan, he wasn't watching Methos' face, he was watching Methos' hand-- the hand that was moving from Amanda's shoulder to her neck, its long fingers trailing slowly over her soft white skin.

"Amanda was right? About what?" Oh, perfect. Now he'd managed to insult Amanda again. Twice in two minutes. A new personal best-- and he wasn't even trying. Too late to be of any help, Duncan did what he should have done twenty seconds sooner-- he forced his eyes away from Methos' hand to Methos' face. The old man looked calm and totally unconcerned about what his hand was doing.

"Pay attention, MacLeod. We're talking about discipline and self-control. Amanda thinks you can resist temptation for two hours, I think your limit is ninety minutes."

"I take it back. Thirty minutes, tops." Duncan was painfully familiar with those particular tones. That was definitely Amanda's this-is-going-to-cost-you-jewelry voice, and if he never heard that I-am-the-old-wise-man drawl from Methos again it would be a century too soon. But he was in too deep now to back out gracefully, so trusting in the theory that the best defense was a good offense, Duncan MacLeod took a deep breath and stepped into the unknown.

"What kind of temptation, Methos? Exactly." Duncan wanted specifics. It wasn't that he didn't trust Amanda and Methos, it was just-- no, actually that was exactly what it was.

"Nothing too complicated for you to handle, MacLeod. And nothing illegal, unethical, or life threatening. It's not even fattening. And with all deference to the lady, we'll give you an hour. All you have to do is stay in that chair and not move or speak for the next hour."

"I know there's a catch in there somewhere. What are you two going to be doing?"

Dear God, who knew an hour could last so long?

Twenty-five minutes. If I can make it through the next twenty-five minutes, I'm going to make them both suffer, I swear I am. I appreciate foreplay as much as the next person, but it's a hell of a lot more fun when I get to play too!

God, all the times I've watched Amanda strip, who knew it could be so fucking hot to watch her do it for someone else? And Methos-- shit, I didn't know the man could move like that. Twenty minutes of fucking dancing! And that's exactly what it was-- fucking dancing. Those hips, that ass... I always wondered what you were hiding under those loose sweaters. Well, you're not going to hide it from me again, Methos. You have no idea how I'm going to make you pay for this, old man. No idea.

Or do you?

Oh damn, I know what it feels like when she does that, those hands, that mouth. She's touched me like that often enough-- how does he stand it? Why doesn't he just throw her over the back of the couch and fuck her, already! He's enjoying this, the twisted son of a bitch, I know it. He's getting off on knowing I'm watching this as much as he is on having her mouth on his cock, and he's using it to torture me. Oh shit, that mouth, that tongue. When she runs it over the head like that, then leans in and closes her lips around it...

You know how much I'm getting off on it. You knew I would, both of you-- damn you both to hell. Which one of you planned this? There's no way this 'just happened to come up.' I'll get you for this. Especially you, Methos. It had to be you. I'll bet your life on that.

I swear, if it takes the rest of his soon to be shortened life, I'm going to get that skinny son of a bitch for this. I don't care what I said, that's no excuse for this kind of torture. Not life threatening, my ass. I'm going to die of blue-balls in a minute. Damn, if I could just touch myself...would they notice? Oh yeah, he's watching me. Watching me and touching her. Watching me and kissing her. Watching me and biting her. Shit. Twenty minutes. Twenty looong minutes.

Fuck, what now? What the hell is he...? Oh, damn, she loves that. Oh, yeah, Methos. Touch her there, run your tongue down the inside of her thigh again. Kiss her there, Methos, right there where the skin is so soft, so delicate, so fucking tender. She loves that, look at her squirm. She wants you to taste her, Methos. She's dying for it. She wants you to bury your face in her and...oh yes, just like that. Lick her clit, Methos. Flick it with your tongue. Lick it, suck on it, bite it if you have to. Oh, shit yes. She loves it. She's really wet, isn't she? Wet and hot and ready. And she tastes so damn sweet, doesn't she? Dripping and hot and-- oh Christ, listen to her! God, I want to go over there and grab her and shove my cock into her while she moans like that. Fuck her soon, Methos, or I'm coming out of this chair.

Fifteen minutes. You've got fifteen minutes then I'm going to teach both of you about the dangers of teasing a Scot. If I live that long.

Damn, man, don't you ever have to breathe? What else have you learned in five-thousand years? Can you suck cock the way you eat pussy, Methos? I promise you, in thirteen minutes, I'm going to find out. And Amanda's going to do nothing but sit and watch if I have to tie her to a chair. You're going to kiss my cock, and lick it, and suck it-- and then I'm going to fuck your throat, Methos. Hard and fast. And you're going to love it, aren't you?

Shit. I've watched people make love before. I've done my share of threesomes, more than my share-- why is it so damn hot this time, with these two? Did you expect this, Methos? Did you know I'd feel like this? Did you know this would make me want to know what you feel like, what you taste like? Did you know this would make me want to hear you beg for it? And you are going to beg, old man. Trust me. Before this night is over, you're going to be on your knees begging me to shove my cock into you or one of us isn't leaving here alive. God, man-- I can't take listening to that anymore! Fuck her, dammit! Now! Hard and fast, the way she's begging you to do it.

Thank God. That's more like it, Methos. Bend her legs back and...oh shit, that went in smooth. Smooth and fast and to the hilt, Methos. Damn, you're good at this. You've angled her perfectly, haven't you? You know that I can see every single inch of that wet, shiny cock moving into her. And those long smooth strokes, just the way she likes it. God, that's beautiful. Christ, that looks so good! Which of us are you teasing now, Methos? Look at your tight ass, pumping into her over and over and... fuck, Methos. I'm dying here!

Ten minutes. I don't know which one of you I'm going to fuck first! Oh yeah, just like that. You, Methos, definitely you. I'm going to grab those hips, flip you over, and shove my cock into your tight, hot ass just the way yours is going into Amanda's cunt. Hard and fast and forever.

Oh yeah, Amanda, scream again, beg for it. Lock those long legs around him and push, Amanda. Make the son of a bitch work at it. Damn, look at you, Amanda! You're so damn beautiful when you come, love. Hot and trembling and screaming. And he's not going to let you stop. Keep going, Methos. Just a little longer, and...

Oh, God no, don't stop now! Just seven more minutes! I'm not going to make it, I know I'm not. Oh damn. Jesus Methos, your cock is so beautiful. So long and hard and wet. What does it taste like now, wet and dripping with Amanda?

Damn yes! That's more like it. Keep her coming, Methos. More, longer. Oh, shit yes, rub it over her clit. Again. Yessss. Again, Methos, I want to hear the sneaky little bitch scream again. And her lips, Methos, yesssss-- just like that. Let her taste herself on your cock, Methos. Lick it off, Amanda. Kiss it.

Noooo! Shit.

Oh, Christ in heaven, just five more minutes! Please don't let him stop! Oh, please!

Is that what you're going to do to me Methos? Is this how I'm going to die tonight? Sitting here watching you stroke yourself and stare at me and lick your lips and...

Fuck this shit.

You win, Methos. Or I do. Either way, this is over.

Ready or not, Old Man...


 The End