"I'm waiting, MacLeod," Adam stretched his arms above his head and yawned mightily. Duncan, sitting on a cushion on the floor, leaned forward elbows-on-knees as he studied the chess board. He made no reply.
At the opposite end of the sofa from Adam, Meredith looked up from her crossword puzzle and said softly, "Sh, Adam, you'll break his concentration."
"He will not," Duncan countered firmly, without lifting his gaze from the chessboard on the coffee table.
"It's been thirty minutes, MacLeod," Adam jabbed verbally at Duncan. "Come on. Make a move."
"It has not been thirty minutes," Duncan retorted. "Only..." he flipped his pocket watch open, "...only ten."
"Well, five more minutes and that's all. Or else you'll have to forfeit."
"Right! Who made up that rule? And when?" Duncan demanded.
Adam gave a short sigh and said to Meredith, "If I don't set a time limit, he'll take all night to think about how I've cornered him and try to figure a way out." He knew he was exaggerating, but he enjoyed exaggerating occasionally when he knew it would get under Duncan's skin. Adam said stubbornly, "But you can't take all night to decide on one move, MacLeod."
"Who says I can't?" Duncan muttered as he continued to study the board. Several minutes passed without a word spoken. The only sounds were the fire crackling in the large freestanding fireplace and the gentle lapping of the Seine River against the barge. Adam held the latest issue of "Archeology Today" and appeared deeply engrossed in an article. Meredith worked half-heartedly at a crossword puzzle in the book Adam had bought for her. Feeling drowsy and rather bored by the puzzle, Meredith decided she would much rather watch the fire–it was a friendly little blaze– and the game between Duncan and Adam. She stifled a yawn.
Adam lowered the magazine, the better to see her. "Sleepy?"
Meredith shook her head. "Warm." Adam nodded and returned to the article. But he held the magazine lower than its previous position so he could glance at Meredith from time to time.
Meredith closed her eyes for a moment and relished the heat. It seemed to penetrate her flesh and go into her very bones. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, then opened her eyes to find Duncan’s gaze on her. He flashed a warm smile at her that made her heart flutter, then returned his attention to the chessboard, thinking, Meredith looks relaxed. Good.
Adam finished his third beer and set the bottle down on the lamp table with a small thump. Meredith thought, This is a first -- all three of us together in the same room for more than five minutes at a time. She sighed again contentedly. This feels so peaceful, she thought with some amazement. She could not help but smile as she looked at Adam, then Duncan, and then the fire. Her body drank the heat as if it were water from an oasis in the desert. She hoped nothing would disturb the moment, because she knew she could not move a muscle. Memory stirred. She had felt this kind of warmth before. It was in --
"Sixty seconds," Adam remarked laconically. Meredith thought how much she liked Adam's voice. The quality and timbre were pleasing to her. She could hear so much of a person's spirit in the voice, and though Adam was still something of a mystery to her, she had grown more than a little fond of him during her stay in Paris. At present, Meredith knew that Adam was picking at Duncan on purpose and she braced for the reaction she felt sure would come.
Duncan made an exasperated sound and exclaimed, "There is no time limit!"
"And counting," Adam replied, unmoved.
"Listen, Pierson, we made no agreement on time limits before the game started, and you know it," Duncan argued rather hotly.
"Forty-five seconds," Adam intoned.
"You forgot‘'and all'’s well'’", Meredith murmured, then tried unsuccessfully to smother her giggle. Adam half-grinned at her over his magazine.
"You can't just make an arbitrary rule like that in the middle of a game," Duncan flung his hands out in an emphatic gesture of protest. What's with Methos anyway, he wondered, he's pushing it.
"You're only objecting, MacLeod, because it's you who wants more time." Adam stated matter-of-factly. "If it were me, you'd be folding up the board, declaring victory." Unperturbed, Adam turned the page of his magazine.
"I would not," Duncan stuck out his chin, then continued rather testily, "Besides, if you think you–"
"You're wasting precious time talking, MacLeod," Adam cut in. "Really. Have you made your move yet?" Meredith bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing aloud. Adam could be infuriatingly implacable and, she was learning, equally intractable.
Duncan sat back, eyes narrowed, hands on his knees elbows splayed open, "Everybody knows chess is a game of thought and strategy. However, you obviously don't want a real game."
"Quite the contrary, MacLeod," Adam rejoined mildly, closing the magazine. "That's the only kind I play."
Duncan’s dark eyebrows drew together and he inhaled to make a retort. Meredith interjected, "Um, what's a ten letter word for 'incredible'?"
Duncan, mouth still open, shifted his gaze from Adam to Meredith, closed his mouth, and without another word, moved one of the 350-year old ivory chess pieces. "Remarkable." Duncan sounded smug as he sat back against the pillows stuffed between his back and the barge wall.
Meredith was thoughtful. "Um, no, actually, the letters don't match up. There's already an 'i'’ where the 'b' would be if it were 'remarkable'’".
"Were you bragging, MacLeod?" Adam moved his rook. "Bit premature. ‘'Check'’ again." He sighed, almost happily. Puns made life worth living for him. "You're not concentrating."
"What?!" Duncan leaned forward in disbelief.
"Who taught you to play this game anyway, MacLeod?" Adam's form seemed to meld with that of the black velvet-covered sofa, his long legs sprawled half-on, half-off the couch. He gave Meredith the barest of winks and nudged her foot slightly with his toe.
"What difference does that make?" Duncan sounded irked.
"Apparently, quite a bit," Adam replied as he threaded his fingers behind his head and closed his eyes. Meredith;s gaze went from Duncan to Adam, then quickly back to Duncan again when she heard his answer.
"Connor MacLeod," he stated, frowning at the chess board, then added muttering, "if it's any of your business."
"Did he really?" Meredith asked in surprise. "Connor taught you the game?"
"Hm," was the brief reply.
"When was that? I mean, how old were you when you learned?" Meredith's interest was piqued.
Odd, she doesn't look at all sleepy now, Adam observed to himself, watching her through half-closed eyes.
"When I was a mere--–" Duncan glanced up to find Meredith watching him closely and Adam's eyes boring into his own. "...A mere boy," his words trailed off. Duncan gulped some wine and ducked his head.
"Hm," came softly from Meredith. A note in her voice drew Adam's gaze back to her and roused his curiosity. Now, what does that little smile mean? Adam wondered. After a pause, she asked, "Was it in Scotland?"
"Hm?" Duncan seemed deeply absorbed again in the game before him.
"Was it in Scotland? Did Connor teach you the game back home in Scotland?"
"Oh, uh..." Duncan began.
Meredith waited.
Adam watched.
"Um, yes, I guess so," Duncan mumbled as he contemplated the game pieces. His fingers twitched slightly as his hand hung mid-air over the board.
"You ‘guess so’? Well, was it or wasn't it?" Meredith was genuinely interested.
Adam, about to burst with curiosity, covered it well with a show of simple surprise. "How do you know about Connor, Meredith?" She had never mentioned a word about Connor to him.
"I didn’t know you knew Connor," Adam carefully kept his tone of voice casual. However, his attention was riveted on Meredith.
"Yes, I met him in--–"
"...Ireland," Duncan mused aloud.
"Ireland?" Meredith turned to him in surprise. "I'm sure you told me that you grew up in Scotland."
"When did you meet Connor?" Adam had to ask. He could not help himself. He wanted to know.
"...Still very young," Duncan said absently, eyeing Adam's queen and the knight positioned nearby.
"In Ireland," Meredith repeated his words, confused.
"You met Connor in Ireland?" Adam asked Meredith.
"No, New York," Duncan said clearly, then mumbled to the chess board, "If I move there..."
"New York?!" Meredith exclaimed. She rolled her eyes. "You distinctly told me you grew up in Scotland !"
"Um-hmm," Duncan affirmed, nodding as he reached for his knight, then paused, hand once again in mid-air.
"In Scotland, then," Meredith glanced at Adam, still trying to figure out Duncan's reply.
"You met Connor in Scotland?" Adam asked. "I thought you just said Ireland." He really wanted to know.
"No, New York," she replied with some emphasis.
"Yes, Scotland," Duncan was sure Meredith knew where he was born. He added a bit testily, "Could we have a little quiet in here, please? I'm trying to play this game."
"‘'Trying' is an apt description," Adam murmured with a quirk of his eyebrow at Meredith who did not see because she was watching Duncan.
"So, Connor taught you to play this game when you were just a boy," she murmured. Adam thought she sounded almost envious and watched surreptitiously as her eyes drifted to the fire. "Hmm."
Adam found himself consumed with curiosity, wanting to know why she was smiling that odd little smile and just exactly what she meant by ‘'hmm'’. "Was it in New York or Scotland?" Adam persisted, still not clear on where Meredith had met Connor. He was not going to let it drop.
"Hm?" she glanced at him, focusing with an effort on his question, then murmured, "Oh, um, New York."
At nearly the same time, Duncan replied absently in a mutter to Meredith's original query, "Scotland, of course," then repeated more loudly for Adam's benefit, "Scot-land."
"What?" Adam turned to Duncan, frowning.
Duncan looked up, knight in hand, "What?" He glared slightly at Adam, then looked at Meredith who was smiling, Duncan thought, rather like the Mona Lisa. He blinked, wondering what he had missed. "What?" he demanded in a completely different tone, and sat up straight, looking from Adam to Meredith, then back to Adam.
"Nothing, MacLeod. Never mind. Just pay attention to the game," Adam waved him off. "Did you move?" he prodded, knowing full well Duncan had not.
Duncan set the knight down and removed Adam's bishop. "Yes." He folded his arms and flashed a brilliant smile at Meredith. "Astonishing."
Meredith blinked, then returned the smile, instantly drawn in by the warmth in Duncan’s brown eyes. He looked so handsome to her in the teal sweater he was wearing, with his shiny black hair waving loosely around his shoulders. She wondered suddenly if he had meant that last as a compliment, the way he was smiling at her. She felt her heart flutter again and wondered, What is it about highland men?
"No, that won't do," Adam stated flatly as he took Duncan’s knight.
"What?!" Duncan asked for the fourth time, unfolding his arms and leaning forward to examine Adam’s move.
"Why?" Meredith asked.
"Too many letters." Adam looked from Duncan to Meredith. "Eleven in 'astonishing'.’ You said, ten letters," he answered.
"Oh, you meant..." her glance fell to the crossword puzzle on her lap.
"How did you..."Duncan began, then sighed heavily in exaggerated disgust.
"Never saw it coming, eh, MacLeod?" Adam could not resist gloating.
"Yes, I saw it; but I thought you would...just, never mind." Duncan sounded resigned, but continued muttering indistinctly. His mood was not improving.
Adam glanced at Meredith and saw the flickering flames reflected in her eyes. After a moment, unaware of Adam's observation, Meredith asked, "Was he a good teacher?"
Duncan, lost in thought, seemed hardly to hear. "Hm?" Actually, he was hoping she would drop the whole subject.
Meredith waited another moment. Duncan did not look up. Feeling suddenly impatient, she said, "Connor!"
Another moment passed and she wondered if Duncan would ever answer her. She started to speak again, but Adam asked, in spite of himself, "So, Meredith, how did you say you met Connor, again?"
"Oh, didn't I tell you? Um, he--–"
"He horned in on our celebration dinner date fourteen years ago in New York," Duncan fairly growled. "That's how." Apparently he was not so lost in thought after all.
Meredith laughed a little. "Oh, Duncan, he did not."
"Yes, he did." The reply was brief. Duncan's fingers trailed over, then picked up his pawn.
"No," Meredith drew out the word in a somewhat placating tone. "I don't think you could say he 'horned in'.’"
"Yes, I could, and yes, he did," Duncan stated emphatically as he replaced his pawn firmly. The board and chess pieces even shook a bit.
Meredith caught her bottom lip with her front teeth, then laughed a bit nervously. "Well," she turned to explain to Adam, "he had dessert with us, that's all. We went to Sardi's after my debut at City Opera, um, Duncan and I did, that is, and Connor happened to come by and ...well, I didn't think he was, as Duncan put it, 'horning in'' exactly." Adam noticed the color had risen in Meredith's cheeks as her eyes flicked from him back to Duncan. Adam cast a sidelong glance at Duncan who had picked up the poker and was jabbing at the logs in the fireplace, rather too energetically, Adam thought.
"He horrrned in," Duncan repeated softly, his Scottish burr in evidence as he sat, his back to them.
"But Duncan, I thought you wanted him to stay...you seemed so glad to see him...."
"Of course, I was glad to see him. I'm always glad to see Connor."
"And you invited him to sit down, to have a drink–"
"Of course, I did. I was being polite. After all, it was Connor!" Duncan sputtered a bit, and so did the log where he was jabbing it.
"Right." Meredith nodded in agreement. Duncan said nothing more. The pause lengthened. A small furrow appeared between Meredith’s eyebrows. She ventured, "I thought it was..." she swallowed, "...a nice little visit." The pause became a silence.
At last, Duncan mumbled her words, "Little visit."
"Um-hmm," she nodded, smiling brightly.
Tossed over his shoulder, Duncan’s words were rather blunt. "I don't call three hours a 'little visit.'’"
"Three hours!" Meredith chuckled, a bit nervously this time. "Oh, he didn't stay three hours."
"Oh, yes he did.‘'Little visit', ha! Nobody takes three hours to have a drink and a piece of pie!...well, two dri...several drinks and a couple pieces of pie." Duncan threw another log onto the fire. It crackled furiously, and a shower of sparks shot up the chimney. Duncan muttered, "It's not like Connor to be so thoughtless."
Perplexed, Meredith tried again, "But Duncan, he was really glad to see you, too. I could tell."
"Yes, well," Duncan half turned, and the words rushed out before he could think to stop them, "it wasn't me he was flirting with all that time."
Adam looked at Meredith. Her mouth was open in surprise. He had not been mistaken. Her color was definitely up. He saw her swallow again, then inhale deeply. "I...didn't think he really stayed as long as...three whole hours," she replied softly, sounding a bit strangled to Adam.
"Well, then two and a half hours." Duncan's demeanor was calmer, but his voise was very decided. His eyes were on the chess board again. "We were seated in Sardi's by 12:30. Connor showed up fifteen minutes after the food arrived and stayed till your phone call came. And that was just after 3:00 a.m."
"Well...but..." Meredith gulped again. She could hardly believe her ears. Duncan remembered the details. He remembered the times and how long it took to get their food and...all of it. He remembered all of it. She was astonished. It had been fourteen years and he remembered it all. And she had allowed herself to become convinced that none of it had mattered so very much to him after all. All she could feel was agitation, her insides churning. Her cheeks were bright red. Involuntarily, she glanced at Adam, whose eyebrows were raised at he regarded her. He looked quickly away to the fire. She murmured, "I mean...it was..."
"Two and a half hours," Duncan's tone was subdued. Moments passed. The silence drew out.
Adam, more than a little amazed by this exchange and even more amazed at what it revealed, raised his fourth beer and downed half of it. He suppressed a belch, set the bottle down and tried again. "So, Meredith. What did he tell you? Connor, I mean." Duncan shot a quick, warning look at Adam who remained impervious, raising his shoulders slightly in feigned innocence. He turn to Meredith, "If he stayed ‘'three whole hours', he must have had something interesting to say."
Meredith cleared her throat as if to speak, but said nothing. She turned a page in her puzzle book, then turned it back and smoothed it down.
Adam pushed it again, "Any stories of the olden days, when he and Duncan were laddies togetherrr back home in the Highlands?" Adam's attempt at the Scottish brogue was so atrocious, Meredith grinned. She could not help herself. Adam thought, That's my girl. She's gonna spill it.
Meredith replied, "Well, yes, actually. He told one pretty funny story about--–"
"We weren't 'laddies together,'" Duncan sounded rather cross as he interrupted Meredith.
"But, Duncan...I thought you were, sort of, weren't you... Duncan?" She sounded hopeful, then turned wide eyes on Adam. "I mean, Connor made it sound so exciting, talking about the olden days, the legends, you know. His stories were so...well, almost unbelievable."
"Unbelievable!" Adam said with enthusiasm and nodded. Meredith looked at him, a bit puzzled, her _expression a question. He pointed to her puzzle, then reached for his beer.
"Oh," she looked down. "Six, seven, eight...no. That’s twelve. I need ten."
"Right. Right." Adam indicated for Meredith to continue and lifted the bottle to his lips.
"Oh. Well, he was very gracious and funny and, um," Meredith was smiling again, and her _expression, as well as her voice, grew softer, "...really charming and--‘"
"Charming," the corners of Duncan's mouth turned downward as he frowned at the chess board.
"Yes, charming," Meredith repeated, looking at Adam, her chin slightly lifted. "He was. It must a 'clan' thing’. The charm." She refused to return Duncan's look. She continued, "And surprisingly, for a kinsman, he doesn't resemble Duncan at all."
"No?" Adam asked, knowing quite well what Connor looked like and doing his best to look only politely interested, while in reality, hanging on her every word.
"His hair is ash blond and his eyes are...well, they're amazing, really."
Adam could barely hide his surprise. Meredith was answering a question he had not asked. And he could hardly believe his eyes. Meredith's _expression as she spoke of Connor was...she looked....
" 'Amazing,' " Duncan was muttering.
Meredith ignored him. "They change color, Connor's eyes. When I first saw them, they looked like the sea, a rich blue-green. Then, when I looked again, they were jade with tiny gold flecks. Then, once when he was laughing, they were very...light, almost clear gold, and--"
"Hazel," Duncan cut in evenly. "Eyes that color are called 'hazel'’".
Meredith's attention was drawn abruptly to Duncan. He was taking great pains to set the captured chess pieces in a perfectly straight row. "Not so unique as all that," he added under his breath. Meredith’s eyes widened with instant clarity. She felt as if she had just woken up.
"Well, of course, you're right, Duncan," Meredith made sure her tone was rather more off-hand. "Hazel." Adam caught her glance briefly before she looked away toward the fire, cheeks very flushed. Adam's curious nature was clamoring for answers. He was completely intrigued and more than a little astonished at the entire exchange. He determined to find out exactly what else happened that night.
The log Duncan had place on the fire flamed up suddenly, fully ablaze. Meredith sipped her wine, but the chill was off and she made a little face as she put it down in distaste. She spoke into the silence. "My, it's really warm in here. Well, it is to me, anyway." She heard what she had said, just as Duncan gazed up at her, his dark brows lifted expressively. Her hands flew to her burning cheeks. She felt them grow hotter still beneath her fingers. She continued quickly, "But I like it warm, Duncan. It's the first I've felt really warm since I was in Ireland. I....um, I mean, through and through...sort of," she looked stricken, again hearing her words after they were spoken, and feeling stupid at her own clumsiness.
Duncan merely nodded, his eyes on the board again. Meredith said apologetically, "I meant, it's me, Duncan, not the barge. My body temperature is totally unpredictable. I wasn't complaining. Truly."
"It's all right, Meredith. I understand." Duncan smiled at her and nodded reassuringly, then returned his attention to the game. He said nothing more about Connor, and neither did Adam. Meredith was glad. Her thoughts were tumbling about so loudly in her head, she placed her hand casually over her mouth to be sure she said nothing inadvertently. It must be the wine, she thought, feeling dazed. She had no idea that Duncan felt as he did about that night so many years ago. What a surprise that he had such a sharp memory of the times and details of the evening. And, from the sound of it, he really had wanted her all to himself. Meredith's heart jerked at the thought.
Adam remained silent for some moments, surreptitiously watching Meredith, who was lost in her thoughts. Her expressions were clear to him and so easy to read. He definitely wanted to know more about this first meeting with Connor, and how this first date with MacLeod turned out. He glanced at Duncan, who appeared calm once again, and ostensibly absorbed in the chess game. Adam was curious about the phone call Duncan had mentioned. And why, he wondered, does it sound like they're discussing...no, arguing about an event only a few days past instead of one fourteen years gone? It was not his imagination. Adam was certain there were deep undercurrents flowing here. He prided himself on his ability to sense undercurrents.
"Your move, Pierson," Duncan's words jerked Adam back from his thoughts to the moment. He turned to survey the board and found that he had to exert his long-practiced self-control to keep his eyes from going repeatedly back to Meredith's face. He would much rather watch her and talk to her than continue this pretense of a game with MacLeod. It was obvious the Scot's mind was elsewhere. He was playing atrociously. But, Adam knew, discovery would have to come later. I can wait, he thought. I'll find out. I always do.
"Are you sure you--–" Duncan began.
"Your move, MacLeod," Adam cut him off smoothly.
"Well, if you're sure...check."
"Um-hmm."
"And, mate." Duncan sat back. "What were you thinking, Pierson? You left your queen unprotected with that one careless move."
"Not on your life, MacLeod. Not on your life." Adam stood and stretched, lithe as a cat, and turned to Meredith. She noticed his eyes looked very light, almost grey. "Astounding," he said. Meredith's mouth opened slightly in surprise as she gazed up at him. His right dimple appeared as he pointed. "Your word. Try ‘'astounding'’".
"Oh!" Meredith's cheeks were still awash with color as she looked down and said, "Well, yes, I...think it is 'astounding' after all. I mean, that seems to fit...um, the puzzle, I mean." Somehow, she had gotten the clear impression Adam meant something else entirely. She was embarrassed. Was I mistaken? She wondered. And how does he make me stammer so?
Adam took a step and Meredith, unwilling to meet his eyes again, felt his hand rest lightly for a second on her shoulder as he walked by. "I'm out for some air. Back in a few." And with a rush of unseasonably cool air through the open door, Adam was gone.
Duncan watched as Meredith's gaze lingered on the door. He thought she seemed discomfitted by the sudden change of mood and equally sudden end of the game. Or, Duncan thought, perhaps it was Adam's absence that left her feeling uncomfortable, alone with him.
"Not to worry. He'll be back soon. He doesn't like the cool weather all that much."
Meredith turned then, somewhat embarrassed yet again, that Duncan had seen her watching Adam leave. "Oh, I know. I was just..."
Duncan smiled at her as he listened attentively, and suddenly Meredith did not mind. She did not mind about feeling embarrassed, or her clumsy words, her faux pas. She did not mind about any of it, nor feel the need to explain, because she felt warmth flow deep inside her from the look in Duncan’s eyes. With all that had occurred in the last two months and with all that she was presently unsure of, Meredith felt sure of what she saw in Dunca's eyes.
She watched as he finished putting the chess pieces away. She noticed the fine dark hair on his fingers and on his muscular forearms where he had pushed his sleeves back. The memory of how soft it had felt under her fingertips was sudden and overwhelmingly real. Her eyes flicked, unbidden, to his chest where the sweater opened and she saw a few soft black hairs, just at the vee. Meredith loved his broad chest and his strong arms. She thought of how his arms felt around her and how secure she felt in his embrace. Her thoughts were so vivid and Duncan's presence was so strong that Meredith felt intoxicated without so much as...
"More wine?" his voice was low as he stood over her, bottle in hand.
"Um, no. No, thank you." Meredith hoped desperately that her _expression did not betray her thoughts and that Duncan had not seen her gazing at him. But, it seemed, sometimes, that Duncan saw everything.
He set the bottle down and bent over her. "Sure you're warm enough, sweetheart?" He plucked at the afghan lying across her lap and tucked it snugly around her legs and feet.
"Yes, um...yes, thank you." Meredith felt her heart pounding in her throat. His face was close to hers as he smiled at her and suddenly her heart fell down hard into her stomach. She felt it roll over and flutter. And when Duncan touched her cheek with gentle fingers, Meredith could not breathe.
She closed her eyes and covered his big hand with her small one, leaning into his caress. Longing welled up in her, a longing so powerful it was dizzying. The next moment, realization swept over her and she swayed a bit, feeling as though a wave of the ocean had pushed her and broken over her. With the realization came a pang so sharp, her eyes burned with sudden tears.
But Duncan had already moved away, so Meredith felt certain he did not see them. She inhaled several short gasps and leaned back against the sofa. By the time Duncan reached the kitchen, Meredith's cheeks were wet with those tears. But at least she could breathe again. At least she could breathe.
