When Did Forever Die?
by: Denise Underwood
c. 2001
Part Four
"Marry me."
Methos and Triona were sitting on a log at the lakeshore watching the moon
set over the water. They'd returned from the Rocky Mountains just a few
weeks before and had been working hard to maintain their reconciliation now
that they were back in the real world. They’d gotten into the habit of
taking a walk after dinner to spend time together. Neither of them ever
wanted to take what they had for granted again. The enforced time they had
spent snowbound in Montana had given them more than ample time to expose
the hurt and anger that had been eating at their relationship for more
years than either of them had been willing to admit.
Triona looked over at him, wondering how much he'd had to drink at dinner.
"Yeah, sure, we should get married." She shook her head in bemusement,
pulling her hat farther down over her ears and snuggling deeper into her
green, down filled coat.
It was freezing in the late November, Ontario night. The wind off the lake
pierced through wool sweaters and coats to snap and bite at the flesh and
bone beneath. Their breath mingled in an icy cloud that was scattered with
each gust of the frigid wind.
"No, really. I mean it. I think we should get married," Methos insisted.
Triona looked at him again, trying to gauge his expression. Flabbergasted,
she realized he was serious. "You're not kidding, are you?"
Looking slightly miffed, he said, "No, I'm not kidding. Why? Can you only
conceive of someone asking you to marry them as a joke?"
"Good god, Methos, I hadn't really conceived of *anyone* asking me to marry
them -- at least not since I was a teenager!"
"So, I'm asking."
"I guess you are." Stalling for time, she said the first thing that popped
into her head. "Isn't it, I don't know, a little… redundant?"
'"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" The miffed look was quickly
changing into hurt. "Fine! Just forget I even brought it up, okay?" He got
to his feet, pulling his black wool pea coat tighter around his slim frame.
"Really stupid…." he muttered to himself.
Feeling like a total jerk, Triona leapt to her feet. "No, not stupid! I'm
sorry," she put a gloved hand on his arm, "it was just so out of nowhere.
If I had a list of things I wouldn't ever expect to hear, that would
definitely be on it."
Methos shrugged and slouched all at the same time. "Don't let it trouble
you. Being redundant, I'm sure I'll get over it," he sniped.
Damn it! Triona had no idea what the right reaction to Methos’ unexpected
question should be. What she wanted it to be was an enthusiastic ‘yes’ as
if they were just a normal couple who wanted to spend the rest of their
lives together. But they weren’t. Triona knew deep in her soul, that at one
time, she would have greeted his proposal with nothing but unhesitating
joy. She realized with a pang that the trepidation she felt instead was a
sign of how far they still had to go in regaining the trust that they had
shared for so long.
Shaking her head in frustration, she exclaimed, "I didn't mean to hurt your
feelings! I was just totally blindsided and didn't think before I opened my
big mouth. Forgive me? Please?" Leaning against him she reached up and
kissed him on the cheek, her eyes pleading. "Please?"
"I suppose I might consider it," he said somewhat peevishly.
Batting her eyelashes at him, she placed the back of her hand against her
forehead dramatically. "Oh, Methos, I admit it. I'm insensitive and
self-centered and I don't deserve anyone as incredibly wonderful as you!"
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Don't be so hard on yourself,
love," he admonished. "But you're right, I probably am too good for you."
This last was said with a wicked sparkle in his eyes. Triona punched him in
the stomach. "Hey!" Laughter quickly overtook the both them before it was
stilled by a deep and heartfelt kiss.
Triona linked her arms around Methos' neck, looking up at him thoughtfully.
"You really want to marry me?" she asked, radiating uncertainty.
Brushing back a strand of hair from under the edge of her hat, his smile
was like sunshine in the cold winter night. "I really do."
Still uncertain and afraid of inadvertently hurting her lover's feelings
again, Triona chose her next words carefully. "But, why? I didn't put it
well before, I know that, and I swear I'm not trying to hurt you, but,
Methos, we've been together a decade and change... why now?"
He shrugged. “It just seemed right. Lucien is taking Stephanie away for
some one on one Master/Fledgling time, and the others have started new
lives. For the first time since your parents died, you aren’t responsible
for anyone’s happiness or for anyone’s life, but your own.” He bent down,
whispering in her ear, “Isn’t it time, Triona?”
“I suppose it is,” she said hesitantly. “But I’m not sure….”
Hugging her tight, he asked, "Do you love me?"
"You know I do!"
He nodded. "And I love you."
"Loving each other isn't in question."
"I don't know, how do they say it? I want to proclaim before God and man
that I love you and want to make a life with you."
“But you don’t marry Immortals,” she reminded him.
“There’s a first time for everything.” He brushed aside her reminder
lightly. “I think I’ve had enough practice with mortal wives that I should
just be about able to handle you,” he said, getting ready to duck if she
tried to hit him again.
This time though, all she did was smile. Fiddling with a button on his
coat, she didn’t quite look at him. “Even one that’s a blood sucking demon
from hell?” She tried to make it a joke, but both of them knew it wasn’t.
“I’ve learned from my mistakes, love. You know I have.” With one finger
under her chin, he moved her head to look straight into her eyes. “Part of
loving someone means accepting who they are. God knows you’ve accepted me,
it’s long past my turn.” The finger under her chin slid up to cup her cheek
with his hand. His heavy sigh exploded into the icy air. “I’m sorry,
Triona, for everything.”
Triona tilted her head slightly to kiss the edge of the hand cupping her
face. “I know, Methos.” Placing her hand over his, she paused a moment
before saying very softly, “But you don’t have to marry me because you feel
like you have to make something up to me.”
She chewed at the bottom of her lip in a familiar nervous gesture that made
Methos smile a little. “Is that what you think I’m doing?” he asked gently.
Triona shrugged as she stepped back from him, shaking her head a little. “I
just want you to love me, Methos. Whether we’re married or not, that’s all
I want. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
The wind calmed at that moment and Methos’ chuckle filled the night. “Then
we’re finally in agreement,” he told her as he pressed his lips gently
against hers, “because all I want to do is love you.” Pulling her against
him, he smiled. “Will you marry me, Triona?”
“I will, Methos,” Triona answered with a matching smile. “I will.”
*********************
“All I still want to do is love you, Triona,” Methos told her softly. “Will
you let me?”
She looked up at him quizzically. “Just like that? After the last year,
after all the things we’ve said to each other? Can we just kiss and make
up?” Triona scooted away from him, stopped by the arm of the couch. “I’m
not sure we shouldn’t deal with what broke us apart. Avoiding our issues
has come back to bite us before, remember?”
Leaning over her to bar her escape, he said, “Kiss now, issues later,”
kissing her before she could respond.
Common sense made a futile effort to assert itself before Triona decided to
hell with it. She’d never been good at mixing common sense and Methos after
all.
-=- Denise = ithildin@ondragonswing.com = http://ondragonswing.com
-=- Vampires, Floth demons.... Do you know what is
-=- really, really evil? Tequila. ~ Cordelia ~ 'Angel'
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-=- Star Trek:The First Generation http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ST_FirstGen
