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Family Business - Part Three
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the delegate reception?” Methos asked some time later, sitting on the bed next to her.
“Mmm, I suppose,” she replied, not terribly enthusiastically.
“Slacker,” he accused, poking her gently in the ribs.
“Pot, kettle, black,” was her succinct reply, along with a slap to the offending hand.
“Ow!” Laughing, he tucked a stray piece of hair back behind her ear. “How did your chat with Spock go?”
She scooted over so Methos could lie next to her. “Pretty well, I think. At least I tried, right? I just needed him to consider how his mother was being affected – both for her sake and his. I think I succeeded.” She shrugged slightly. “And how about you? Did you and the Andorian ambassador bond?” Triona smiled at her husband fondly. “I’m assuming the only reason you’re back so soon is that he had to go to the reception.”
Methos had jumped at the chance to come on this mission with her. While he loathed the boring diplomatic details, he loved meeting new races, learning their languages, customs, and most importantly, or so she secretly thought, drinking their alcohol. She rather thought that when Zephram Cochrane talked about ‘new life and new civilizations’, he would have approved of Methos’ own personal exploration method.
“You are correct,” he said amiably. “That, and I thought you might be missing me.”
“Missing you, huh? Don’t know about that,” she said, grinning.
“Liar,” he accused, cutting off her reply with a kiss.
He tasted like roses and something that reminded her of eucalyptus, and in a lazy corner of her mind she wondered just what Andorians made their alcohol from. Sighing into his kiss, she pulled him closer. When their lips parted, she kept her eyes closed, savouring his closeness. Then she murmured, “Okay, maybe a little.” Then she giggled, knowing that if she opened her eyes, he’d look very smug and self-satisfied. “So tell me about your afternoon.”
Propping himself up against the headboard, Methos took her hand, gently kneading the palm. “It was very entertaining, not to mention informative. Do you know, they have the most amazing liquor?” he said with all the enthusiasm of a twelve-year-old boy with a new bike.
“Do they?” Triona managed to stifle the giggles that threatened to erupt at his question.
He looked at her a little suspiciously, but continued with his story. “It’s almost like a shard of ice, and when you put it your mouth, it reacts to the saliva and dissolves into a vapour that’s absorbed through the skin! Bloody amazing!”
That was too much, and this time, she couldn’t not laugh. Sitting up, she threw her arms around him, laughing so hard her ribs hurt.
“It could have all sorts of medical applications!” he protested.
“Of course it could, darling,” she agreed, catching her breath.
“It could,” he repeated, pouting a little.
Running her fingers along his chin, she kissed him gently on the corner of his mouth. “I love you.”
“That’s something, I suppose,” he replied, “considering how popular you are.” At her questioning look, he added, “Captain Kirk is quite taken with you. And you being married didn’t seem to curb his enthusiasm. Should I be worried?”
“Not at all, my love; Starship captains hold no attraction for me. Now, the ship’s engineer, on the other hand…” Sitting back on her calves, her eyes sparkling with laughter, she said, “I have to be honest with you, darling. If Mr. Scott gives me even the slightest encouragement, I’m his!”
“Is that right?” A smile tugged at Methos’ lips.
“I’m afraid so,” she replied solemnly.
“Well then…” Before she could react, he grabbed her elbows, pulling her down on top of him, before rolling them both over. “Now, you were saying?”
“There’s nothing you can do to change my mind,” she protested in between gasps of laughter.
“Is that what you think?” He held her wrists in one hand above her head, his other hand sliding down her hip.
“Mmmm… well, okay, I don’t suppose there’s any harm in you trying,” she admitted, sighing softly as his lips caressed her throat, the sigh becoming a little moan of pleasure as teeth replaced lips, gently biting at the sensitive skin.
“I didn’t think there would be,” he whispered against her ear, his voice a mix of amusement and desire.
Letting go of her wrists, his hands slid into her hair, his thumbs brushing across her cheekbones. He looked down at her, their faces bare inches apart. His eyes were dark, like a storm tossed ocean, and just as deep. And in that moment, Triona wanted to look into those eyes forever. Her hands mirroring his, she stroked the sharp planes of his face, her fingers skimming down his throat, before her palms came to rest against his heart. “You are so beautiful.” Her voice caught, and she thought she might weep at the intensity of her love for him.
“I think that’s supposed to be my line,” he told her softly.
“You’ll have to share.”
He just nodded, leaning in to kiss her, his hands sliding down her body. She felt the low rumble of his laugh before she heard it. Breaking the kiss, he drew away, looking down at her with concern. “I think we have a slight engineering problem.”
“Mmm-hmm. You have far too many clothes on,” he explained.
“Oh, that!” She laughed. “I have every confidence that this is one engineering problem you can solve yourself.”
In short order, he proved just how right she was.
Part One ][ Part Two ][ Part Three