========================================================================= Date: Fri, 12 Apr 1996 17:57:19 -0800 Reply-To: Franki Tollefson Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Franki Tollefson Subject: ADULT: Boarding Pass 1/2 Warning: NC-17. This story contains detailed sexual situations. If you are under age, or just prefer not to read erotica, please keep away. Disclaimer: These people aren't mine; I'm borrowing them. I'll put them back when I'm done. Please, don't sue me. Dedication: This one is for my husband, who had a lot of suggestions for making this story work. Acknowledgments: Thanks to Deb and Lisa K for their story suggestions. Thanks to Claire for her editing assistance. Thanks to Kellie for suggesting the title. Boarding Pass by Franki Tollefson Lowering the book he was reading, Duncan shifted in his seat, leaning to the side a little, trying to see into the cockpit. *What's going on?* They were already ten minutes late. The crew didn't seem particularly tense; they were chatting quietly, leaning back in their seats. Must not be a problem with the plane. *Maybe we're waiting for somebody.* It happened sometimes; someone got to the ticket counter just before the plane was supposed to take off and the plane was held until they could board. It didn't happen often, but on overseas flights it was more common. Because there weren't as many flights, the tardy passenger might not be able to wait for the next one. *Probably a first-class passenger.* He thought, cynically. The airlines weren't likely to endanger their on-time rating for someone flying coach. He didn't really care; he just wanted to get going. He'd flown into New York the night before and been stuck with a seven hour lay-over. He had spent the time wandering around the airport or trying to sleep in one of the chairs. The woman sitting next to him waved down the flight attendant. "Is there a problem?" She asked, sounding a little annoyed. Duncan took a good look at the speaker. Sixtyish, wealthy, very proper. He placed her accent as Bostonian. Probably yelled at the household help for entertainment. *Well, who did you expect to run into in first-class, MacLeod?* The flight attendant smiled, "No ma'am, no problem. We're waiting for a passenger. She was temporarily detained at the metal detectors. Some sort of misunderstanding. She's on her way now. We'll be leaving as soon as she gets here." "Why was she detained?" The woman asked. "Was she trying to bring a gun on board?" "No, ma'am. I don't know for sure what happened, but if she was carrying a gun, we wouldn't be waiting for her." Duncan chuckled a little at that and his seatmate glared at him. "It's all right, ma'am. The wind will be with us today; we'll make up the time," the flight attendant said, moving away. Duncan looked around. First-class was almost full. There were only two seats open, both in the row behind his own. He tensed suddenly, looking around him. Another immortal. *Oh, no, not today.* He wasn't worried about a fight; planes were practically Holy Ground. It was too dangerous; a quickening could knock a plane out of the sky. Dying in a plane crash might not be permanent, but it was hardly pleasant. A female immortal. Late. "Temporarily detained." That sounded like... "Well, well, hello, MacLeod." "Amanda." It was a groan, not a greeting. "Is that any way to greet me, MacLeod? After all, it's been months." She sat down in the seat directly behind him. *Give me strength.* He turned around and looked at her. "First class, Amanda? Who'd you rob?" "Very funny, Duncan. Actually, I put it on your card." "WHAT? Amanda, I gave you that card for *emergencies.*" "This is an emergency, Duncan. I have to get back to Paris. You don't really expect me to fly coach, do you?" Duncan heard a noise beside him and turned quickly to look at the woman sitting next to him. She was looking away, but, he had the sneaking suspicion she was smiling. *Great.* Amanda fastened her seat belt as the plane began to move. Duncan settled back, fastening his own seat belt. Leaving his book on his lap, he leaned back, closing his eyes. *Maybe I can go to sleep and ignore her.* Bump. *Maybe not.* "Amanda..." "What, MacLeod? You aren't going to talk all the way there, are you? I really want to get some reading done." He glared over his shoulder at her. She stared innocently back at him. She was holding a book up, eyes wide, face unreadable. Giving up, he turned back around. Bump. "Stop it, Amanda." He heard her sigh, "Stop, *what,* MacLeod?" "Stop kicking my seat." "Oh. Okay." Duncan relaxed back as the plane took off. Closing his eyes, he tried to go to sleep. He heard a soft rasping sound. A page being turned. A few minutes later, he heard it again. How could he hear pages turning over the roar of the engines? He couldn't, that was impossible. He was imagining things. *Why do I let her make me crazy?* Finally, as they got out over the ocean, he managed to fall asleep. ***** The Eiffel Tower. Music from a boom-box. Dancing. "How did you do it? How did you get me up here?" "Because you *love* it." *I love you.* The thought whispered in his mind. They walked back down and across the park. She grabbed his hand and pulled him into some bushes off to the side. "Where are we going?" "Shut up, MacLeod." "Amanda..." It was a warning. "I thought you were going to break some rules today." "I danced with you on the Eiffel Tower, what else do you want?" "You," she said simply as she pulled him deeper into the bushes. "Here?" His voice had risen an octave. "Shhhhh," she said, irritated. "Someone's going to hear you." She moved toward him and he backed away, right into a tree. She kept moving until she was against him. Slipping her hands behind his head she tugged, wanting him to kiss her. He resisted at first, but his heart wasn't in it. Giving in, he leaned into her, kissing her softly. After a moment, he wrapped his arms around her. As she opened to him, he deepened the kiss. Her hands moved down, across his back, as she pressed herself into him. He could feel the swell of her breasts against his chest. Letting his hands slide down to her bottom, he let himself enjoy her curves, the way her body felt against his. He could feel himself responding to her, hardening. She slid her hands further down... "Not here," he said, pulling away. She stepped back and looked at him. She didn't speak, she just waited. He stared at her, wondering if he was ever going to learn how to say "no" to her. He looked around. "It's pretty tight in here; we'd be more comfortable back at the barge." It was worth a shot, Amanda liked being comfortable. "There's plenty of room for what I have in mind," she responded. "What, exactly, *do* you have in mind?" He asked, suddenly suspicious. "You danced for me, it's my turn..." She said, trailing off and moving back toward him. As she moved against him, he leaned in kissing her again. *Give it up, MacLeod, you thought she was dead yesterday, you're not going to refuse her anything today.* He pulled her tighter against him, hugging her, as he remembered how close he'd come to losing her. After a moment, she moved down to his neck, nibbling softly. She pulled back, watching his face as she ran her hands over his chest. Reaching lower, she smiled, squeezing gently. "Is this for me?" She asked, teasing. He laughed softly, giving up on pretending he didn't want this. She kissed him again, as she started to unfasten his pants. When she had them open, she reached inside, caressing, then trying to free him. She ended the kiss as she succeeded, giving him another teasing smile. He closed his eyes as she wrapped her hand around him, but opened them again, almost immediately, when she knelt down. "Amanda..." He whispered, almost a groan. "Please...." "Please... don't, or Please... do?" She asked, still using her hand to stimulate him. He didn't answer, he wasn't sure himself. He watched her as she leaned in, opening her mouth to him... "Would you like anything?" ***** "Sir, Would you like anything?" The flight attendant was speaking to him. "Ummm..." He responded, trying to wake up, trying to shake off the dream. "Ummmm, no, I'm fine...wait, water?" "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't realize you were asleep." "No, I, um, that's okay, I wasn't really asleep, just, um, dozing." He heard a small snort behind him. He shifted a little, intending to turn and glare at her, but froze as the physical reminder of his dream bumped against the forgotten book in his lap. Better not move. *Why do I let her get to me?* The flight attendant handed him a glass of water. "What are you reading?" Amanda asked, reaching around him for the book. He caught at her hand, stopping her. "It's "The Odyssey, by Homer, I don't think you'd be interested." "You never know," she said, breaking away, and reaching for the book again, "I suppose it's in Greek..." Her voice trailed off as her hand brushed across his lap. *Damn.* The erection had faded, but she'd noticed it; she knew his body too well. She let her hand glide across him as she picked the book up. Needing to hide his body's instant reaction to her touch, he quickly lowered his tray and set his water glass on it. He glanced sideways at the woman sitting next to him, but she was staring out the window, pointedly ignoring him. At least she hadn't seen anything. Amanda settled back in her seat, flipping through his book. "Do you ever read anything interesting?" She asked him after a moment. "You don't think The Odyssey is 'interesting'?" He responded. She sighed deeply, "Honestly, MacLeod, you're getting old." He turned around at that, raising an eyebrow pointedly. "Go to hell," she responded, handing back his book and picking up her own. She settled back, holding the book in front of her face, shutting him out. "Undying Love?" He asked, in a tone that sounded snobbish, even to him. He winced a little, but she didn't respond, just turned a page. He turned back around. "Imagine that," he said, to himself, loudly enough for her to hear, "I was expecting the blueprints to the Louvre." "Read your book, MacLeod." He glanced sideways again, then back down to his book, wondering again if he'd seen his neighbor smile. He started reading and lost track of time. He barely noticed when the flight attendant took his water glass away. When he glanced at his watch, he found that an hour had gone by. Amanda was being awfully quiet; maybe she was asleep. He risked looking back over his shoulder. She was reading quietly. He watched her for a minute. She'd let her hair grow a little. He preferred it a little longer, like it had been in Paris... *He wrapped his fingers in it as she went down on...* Bad idea. He felt his body begin to respond again, as he desperately tried to think about something else. Anything else. He realized suddenly that she was watching him over her book. He wondered, sometimes, if she could read his mind. He turned back around, going back to his book, trying to pretend he hadn't seen her watching him. He stared at the page, but he wasn't reading. *Bump.* He didn't react. *Bump.* He wasn't going to react. *Bump.* He turned back around and glared at her. "Knock. It. Off." She glanced up at him. "Hmmm? Oh, I'm sorry, Duncan, did you say something?" He started to speak, but stopped, as he watched the business man who'd been sitting across from him come out of the bathroom. Duncan completely forgot what he'd been planning to say as a thought crossed his mind. Amanda got a puzzled look on her face and glanced over her shoulder to see what he was looking at. When she turned back around, the expression on her face told him she knew exactly what he was thinking. He turned quickly back around and stuck his nose in his book. Translating Ancient Greek ought to keep his mind off of... "Duncan," it was soft, and right next to him. "I'm reading," he said, not looking up. "Duncan," she drew it out this time, quietly, her lips right next to his ear. "NO." "No...What?" She said, softly. He finally looked up at her. Mistake. Her lips were about an inch from his. He didn't move for a moment, then tilted his head to whisper in her ear. "Whatever you're thinking, forget it," he whispered. "I don't know what you mean," she said, innocently. "Right," he answered, his lips still at her ear. He started to turn his head, but couldn't resist brushing his lips against her cheek. She sat back, without another word. He was a little surprised that she'd given in so easily. She tapped him on the shoulder a few minutes later. *Here it comes.* "This is amazing, Duncan. Read this," she handed him her book, pointing to the top of the page. Duncan stared at her for a moment, wondering what she was up to. She looked back at him, all wide-eyed innocence. After a moment, he gave in and started to read the section she'd indicated. *Well, you can stop wondering, now you know she can read your mind.* It was a love scene. He wasn't surprised by that, but, it was specifically a love scene about a woman going down on her lover in the bushes of a National Monument. Unbelievable. They'd been lovers off and on for centuries. They'd been together a number of times since that day in Paris. How did she know *that* was what he was thinking about? Well, they were in a public place now. He was the one who had noticed the bathroom. Maybe it was just a coincidence. He glanced back at her and saw the teasing look on her face. Maybe not. He handed her book back to her without a word. Turning back around, he smiled to himself when he heard her sigh softly. Relenting a little, he turned back around. "Where are you staying in Paris?" He asked. "With you," she said, taunting him. "Okay," he answered matter-of-factly, turning back around. "Bastard," it was almost too quiet for him to hear. Once again, he heard a soft sound come from the matronly lady sitting next to him. When he looked at her she was intent on the book in front of her. Was she really laughing at him? It was embarrassing. He was starting to feel a little besieged. *Dammit, Amanda, knock it off.* That wasn't fair; it wasn't her he was annoyed with, it was himself. *You're over 400 years old and you're acting like a high school kid.* Why was he so bothered by this? Why couldn't he just forget it? A few more hours, they'd be back in Paris... In bed... Together... This wasn't working. He wanted her. Not in a few hours. Now. He heard a movement behind him, and glanced back to see Amanda going into the bathroom. *I will not follow her in there...I will not follow her in there.* He heard a soft chuckle beside him, and glanced at his seatmate. "Do you really think that's going to help?" She asked softly. He stared at her, wondering for a moment if he'd spoken out loud. She nodded at his waist. Looking down, he realized he'd been tightening his seat belt. Tightening it a lot. Blushing a little, he released the buckle, letting himself breathe again. The lady next to him turned back to her book as if nothing had happened. Duncan stared at her for a moment. *Looks like I misjudged her. At least, she seems to have forgiven Amanda for holding the flight up.* Amanda. Just when he was about to give in, she came back out and sat down in her seat. He turned to watch her, but she ignored him. Picking up her book, she went back to reading. After a few seconds, Duncan gave up and turned back around. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He was almost asleep, when he heard her whisper in his ear. "Duncan." He pretended to be asleep. "Duncan, come on. Please?" She whispered softly. He still didn't respond. "C'mon, MacLeod. Do you know how long it's been since I had sex?" The whisper was soft, right in his ear. He turned toward her then, opening his eyes. "No, but *you* know how long it's been for me," he whispered back. "What do you mean?" She asked, obviously puzzled by the comment. He looked at her, wondering if he should tell her. *What the hell.* "You *are* the last time I had sex," he whispered against her ear. He pulled back a little, watching her reaction, wondering what she would think. It wasn't a big deal, it's not like he'd been saving himself for her. He hadn't been, had he? When she leaned back to his ear, he held his breath, wondering what she was going to say. "Then you know how long it's been for me," she said softly. Without another word, she sat back in her seat. She hadn't been with anyone either. Interesting. Abstinence wasn't high on Amanda's list of priorities. It ranked right up there with not breathing for extended periods of time. He heard someone else come out of the bathroom and toyed again with the possibility. He'd been flying for almost a hundred years, but he'd never had sex on a plane. Well, not since Boeing stopped putting sleeping berths on them, anyway. Not like he was considering now, in a room the size of a small coat closet, with people sitting only a few feet away.