“When Did Forever Die?” by: Denise Underwood c. 2001 Part Nine He, Triona, LaCroix, Stephanie, and Terese, had been on their way to a mutual defense summit on Carrington Station. Their ship had been attacked enroute by unknown assailants, though they suspected that the Orion Syndicate had been behind it. The Syndicate had been putting increasing pressure on non-Federation systems, Imladris in particular. One aspect of the conference they were attending was the increasing sway of the criminal organization and how to combat it. Triona, in her capacity as defense minister of the Imladrin Planetary Union, had been particularly vocal in demanding that the Federation do more to police their own outlying systems. The Enterprise, carrying delegates to the conference, had come upon their beleaguered ship, rescuing them in the nick of time. And then, Triona had met Picard. It had been obvious to anyone with eyes to see that the two were drawn to each other. LaCroix, at his manipulative best, had used that interest to Imladris's advantage, instructing Triona to get as much information on the Federation’s position from Picard as she could. To Methos' mind, Triona undertook her task with more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary. Her flirtation with the Enterprise captain had set his teeth on edge. Lucien's obvious enjoyment of his friend's irritation swiftly turned Methos' annoyance into anger. On returning home, Triona had been distant and Methos had swallowed his anger. It had seemed like they hardly saw each other in the daily press of duties as the weeks turned into months. Triona and LaCroix were making frequent trips out of the system, and it was on one of those trips that Triona and Captain Picard found themselves once more in each other’s company. And then they'd been irrevocably tied together by the experience they had shared with LaCroix when an alien race had set them to living lives from the vampire's mortal life in ancient Rome. LaCroix had been the one to tell Methos what had happened on the Enterprise. The vampire had finally come to realize that things between Triona and Methos had almost reached a point of no return. It had hurt Methos, more than he cared to admit, that Triona hadn’t told him herself what had happened. Just one more secret in a long line of secrets that involved Picard. Methos nodded. “I sailed around the archipelago, and then picked one of the larger islands and hiked in. There’s so much of our planet that we haven’t explored.” His voice held remembered excitement. “I cut through the bush and found myself in the most beautiful clearing. The beach was a perfect shade of amethyst, several shades darker than the sand we’ve normally seen. The lagoon was afire with the reflected light of the setting sun. To the right of me was a clear view across the water out to the other islands in the archipelago. In front of me was nothing but sea. Off to the left, the island rose up a soft incline to a point on a cliff that hung over the edge of the lagoon like a box in an opera house.” “It sounds beautiful, I doubt the pictures do it justice,” she murmured, totally swept up in his description.” Nodding, he continued, “I made my way up the hill to the cliff. I found a fresh water spring pushing up through the rock, giving life to a Garden of Eden as far back as the eye could see.” Triona snickered. “Don’t tell me you were there too,” she teased. “I mean, I know you’re old and all….” “You too can be dealt with,” he warned mock ominously, tapping her lightly on the tip of her nose. She just stuck her tongue out at him. Kissing her firmly, he ignored her twitting. “As I looked out across the water, I knew I wanted to bring you to see it too. More than that, I wanted it to be *our* place, like the Keep had been in the beginning. I could see the place in my head. It would be built with native stone, so it looked like part of the landscape. It would be broad and low, with open porches all around to catch the breezes. Our bedroom would reach down to where the spring was and we’d catch some of the water into a pool. It would be like sleeping in the jungle.” “Thank goodness for force fields!” Triona laughed. “Force fields? Didn’t I tell you? This is a no tech house. It’s time we got back to nature.” Methos kept his face perfectly straight. She peered at him, not quite sure if he were serious. Then she laughed. “Uh huh.” “I’m serious!” he protested. “And I’m the Queen of England! Please, Methos, your idea of roughing it is a hotel without room service.” Shaking her head, she added, “Weren’t you the one that told me that those who love the romance of the past should get three square meals accompanied by maggots, flies and the scent of rancid meat, not to mention people, to cure them?” “This might have been me,” he admitted. “But I say lots of things.” “No kidding,” she muttered, sighing long-sufferingly. He just grinned, getting up and walking over to the refrigeration unit to get a bottle of beer. Methos hated beer from the replicator, he insisted it didn’t taste right -- of course, that was what LaCroix said about replicated blood too. Triona was once more looking at the holopics on the data pad, a thoughtful expression on her face. Sitting back down, Methos offered her his bottle. “Want some?” “What? Sharing your beer? I’m touched.” Grinning, she took the proffered bottle, ignoring his dirty look. After a few swallows, Methos protested, “Hey! Don’t drink all of it!” “You offered!” she handed him back his coveted beverage. “But I didn’t think you’d actually take me up on it.” He smirked as she rolled her eyes. Changing the subject back to the matter at hand, she pointed to the data pad. “The house is amazing inside and out I can’t believe you did all this.” “Mac helped. So did Stephanie.” At Triona’s look of surprise at mention of her cousin, Methos said, “We’re getting along pretty well these days.” “I’m glad.” Triona had a guarded expression on her face as she asked the next question. “So you came home and you never told me about this place…” It was half question, half statement. He didn’t answer immediately, seemingly fascinated with the bottle he held in his hands. “Have you ever wondered why we don’t use, say, purple glass? It’s always brown or green.” Triona just waited patiently for Methos to get to where he was going. “Methos,” she prompted gently when it seemed like he’d gotten lost on the way. “Right.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “I was going to tell you about it. At least about the spot. I wanted the house to be a surprise. But when I got back, you were deep in the planning of the trade conference, and….” “And Jean-Luc was there,” she finished for him. “Yeah.” -=- Denise = ithildin@ondragonswing.com = http://ondragonswing.com -=- Vampires, Floth demons.... Do you know what is -=- really, really evil? Tequila. ~ Cordelia ~ 'Angel' -=- Dragon's Hoard Fic Archive http://www.ondragonswing.com/vortex -=- Star Trek:The First Generation http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ST_FirstGen