Just Another Day In Paradise

[Claire Ihi]

Claire smiled. "I guess it's a good thing that you didn't need to corrupt me then, e ipo," she grinned. She had never felt as relaxed and as right with anyone the way she did with Methos, and she didn't care what had brought them together, and cared even less about the pretense in which their entire relationship was cloaked from the outside world. Sometimes, that was just the way it had to be.

"I know they want the Chronicle, but I think there's more to it than that," she murmured, not wanting her voice to carry across the water to the boat. She smiled thoughtfully, before glancing up at Methos. "Why not give them what they want? The Chronicle, I mean." it was obvious from the tone in her voice that she was up to something, and she wondered whether Methos would be thinking along the same lines. Probably, if she knew him at all. After all, he seemed to plan for every eventuality, every possible path.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about with my parents," Claire said, giggling as he swept her up and started to carry her across the boat. What is it with you and bathrooms?" However, not a word of protest fell from her lips as she traced a seductive line with her tongue down Methos' ear, before kissing a fiery trail down the side of his neck. The man was completely insatiable, and Claire was more than happy to be along for the ride.

[Methos]

"Oh, good thing indeed." That would have been fun, whether she liked to admit it or not. Methos was just the man to twist most people up and when such an undeniable connection as the one they shared existed that was practically a task a child could accomplish. "Might decide to corrupt you on something anyway... what's your preference between Coke and Pepsi?" Small things, one by one.

"They want Methos, they want me, and with that information they might very well put the pieces together after all. Adam Pierson isn't as far removed as he once was, there's only a matter of time before somebody thinks to themselves... 'hey, that guy is awfully clever for some otherwise unremarkable Italian from the 1100's.' And then they'll be on the trail. Then they'll have to figure out what to do about the truth when they find it and... well, I don't like super secret organizations making choices about my future. You humans are used to it, but I'm accustomed to something else altogether."

Methos grinned as they stepped into the sizable space. "I've shat on or in the ground for the majority of my existence, to me the idea of modern plumbing is still quite novel. Let alone hot water out of a metal device in the wall that doesn't require a dozen slaves working in shifts to produce."

[Claire Ihi]

Methos sounded all too amused, and looked as though he was plotting something, as he all too often did. It didn't take him long to confirm that he was, no matter how much of a silly thing it might be. "Ah, now you don't get me that easily," she chuckled, shaking her head as she casually traced her fingers down his back to rest on his firm, tight bottom. "I don't drink either, smartarse."

She nodded as Methos expounded on what he thought the Council actually wanted from him - and, by extension, from her. "How about delivering them a version of the Chronicle," suggested Claire. "I mean... you have the only real records pertaining to it, right?" A devious little smile slipped into place. "They have no way of checking its veracity, and, I'm sure that, with your forgery talents, you'd be able to make it look so good that any thought of connecting you to 'Methos' would slip right out of their minds." It would take a lot of time, a lot of work, and, probably, a lot of money as well, but if it would get the Council off his back, and allow him to live as an "ordinary" Immortal, it was worth it, at least to Claire.

She giggled as he carried her into the bathroom, and Claire grazed her teeth down Methos' neck as he explained his fascination with the modern bathroom. "Not forgetting the extracurricular activities that can take place in a bathroom, huh," she murmured against his skin, her hands starting a slow, exploratory journey across the bare flesh of his chest and back. Of course, she already knew every curve, every muscled plain, every flat hardness, but Claire never stopped marvelling at Methos' incredible physique.

"Now, what did you have in mind for this morning's entertainment, e te tau?"

[Methos]

"I do get you that easily, and yet you make it so very complicated at the same time. I think, perhaps, that lay at the root of why I love you so very much. You are simply complicated in your simple complexity." He smiled at her with that slow burn that said all the things that even his prodigious grasp of the English language still couldn't put into words. But of course that was all mitigated by his continued teasing. "How about brand of coffee, I bet I could get you turned onto this rare Italian blend I know of. It's simply divine, I'm told." Methos didn't care over much for the modern western definition of coffee but he knew people who put great stock in such things and he was always willing to listen to another talk about their passions.

He paused for a moment, truly pondering her suggestion of a fake. It could be done, with a bit of effort and an absolutely ridiculous amount of money. He'd have to acquire the right kind of paper, binding materials, several different kinds of ink, etc., etc, because they would suspect from the get go. The Watchers would hit it with every test they could think of and acquire. Introduce it to experts, perhaps even outside the organization, because it was just that important. And he would have to invest a lot of time and effort into attempting to find it. Then other variations of the idea began floating through his head and he idly wondered if the false Methos was still alive. Adam hadn't heard anything about the man in a while and with the scam the man had been running that likely meant he was dead. "My heart, you might just be a genius. Let me start looking into the particulars. We'll see if I can acquire the materials without giving away our game before it starts."

"Oh, never forgetting the extracurriculars. Certainly not the ones you seem fond of allowing me, mi amo." Methos hitched her up a bit higher and ran his cheek along hers for a moment in a gentle, loving physical representation of his feelings for her. It was an almost primative move, not unlike when he would press his forehead against hers in silence. He set her on her feet slowly and drew her deeply into his arms. "I think, perhaps, I will make love to you slowly while running out our entire supply of fresh water. Suitably wasteful, just as our onlookers expect of a rich man. Suitably worshipful, just as you deserve from your lover."

"Now, lets see if we can make you stutter in Maori." He grinned as he began kissing down along the line of her jaw, down her neck, down along her collar bone, and then down the middle of her chest bone. Kisses, little licks, and the occasional gentle drag of his teeth to put real need behind his actions. She was more than a desire, worlds above a distraction, she was his soul focus for this lifetime. Ahead of even the Gathering.

[Claire Ihi]

The look on Methos' face almost drowned out his words, and Claire gave a low chuckle. No matter how much a show they were putting on at the moment for the Watchers' Council, she had no doubt about the depth of their feelings for one another. "Says you, the permanent, ancient enigma." Her voice was almost a purr. "Coffee, I could be persuaded on, though," she said, not really wanting the small talk. Her body was doing all the talking she needed at the moment, and it was obvious to anyone - especially the observers in the next boat over - that words were the last thing that she and Methos needed.

She watched the thoughts play across Methos' features, even though she had no chance of actually deciphering them. He was clearly considering her suggestion of a fake, and Claire blushed, shaking her head as he proclaimed her a genius. "Bullshit," she snorted, even while tangling greedy fingers into the short hair at the nape of his neck. "I just have a vested interest in keeping you out of the hands of the Council."

The bathroom on the yacht was small and cramped, but, at that moment, to Claire, it might as well have been a vast bedchamber bedecked with roses and softly flickering candles. The feel of his cheek as it brushed against hers, despite the fact that he had hitched her up against the wall of the shower, sent shivers rushing down Claire's spine, and she arched herself against him. "No need... to waste... water," she breathed, her short nails scraping against the skin of Methos' shoulders as she pulled him as close as humanly possible. "Kei te aroha... au.. i a... koe," she said, her breath speeding up as Methos expertly traced lips, tongue and teeth down her throat, teasing and testing as he went.

Claire ran her hands down his back again, slowly, teasingly, moving around to his stomach, heading lower, lower, dangerously lower. For a second, she let go of her senses.

"Marena mai koe ki a au?"

Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

[Methos]

He chuckled. "Maybe that's it... maybe modern woman is just too far removed from my ability to keep up with changing times." He didn't leave off of kissing her, slipping the words in between his various oral measures. The time for words was quickly drifting beyond them, gently floating to the point beyond caring. It was all pretext, they'd be entwined half the day at this rate. Might not ever meet her parents if one of them didn't happen to think of it again in a few hours.

"Mm, so brilliant." He'd reached her naval and flicked his tongue at it while she declared she had reasons for wanting him free. "Necessity, it's the mother of invention and wot not." He was trailing a kiss down to her hips, that soft and vulnerable skin where leg became body. This was far from what he considered a 'waste' of water. If this wasn't exactly what water had been created for then there was no god in any heaven.

And then Methos froze. And he blinked. And he stood up once again to make eye contact. "Did you just ask me to marry you? Cause I will marry the hell out of you if that's what you just said."

[Claire Ihi]

Oh fuck.

What the hell had she been thinking? Claire's face paled as Methos stilled, his lips pulling away from from her body, the moisture they had left cooling on her skin. She swallowed as he stood, her eyes wary as her mind played through every possible reaction he could have to her blurted, inappropriate proposal. While Claire was certain that Methos was the only man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, they had only been together a few months, and it was far too soon to have voiced something so serious.

She met his gaze as he stood, her hazel eyes guarded, already apologising for her outburst. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... it just slipped out..."

Claire stopped in her tracks, though, at Methos' answer. She nodded, mute, and her jaw dropped at his follow up remark. She looked stunned, not quite believing what he had said. "I don't think 'marrying the hell out of someone' is quite what..." Then her words left her, once and for all. There was nothing she could think of to say, nothing that seemed appropriate.

Taking a deep breath, Claire nodded just the once. "Yes, I asked you to marry me," she said, her voice a gentle murmur as she dropped Methos' gaze. "It's too soon, though, I know that. I'm sorry." Cocking her head to one side, she shrugged, a sad, lopsided smile gracing her lips.

"I know how to put a pisser on the day, don't I, e ipo?"

[Methos]

"Too soon?" He wasn't getting any younger... he wasn't getting any older either, if one considered that a purely physical thing. If they wanted to be a couple in public the sooner they hitched the better it would work for longer. Before they had to withdraw to a less public lifestyle. He quietly considered bringing her home at that point, setting up a quiet and secluded little abode in the middle of nowhere someplace on the islands of New Zealand to live out the rest of her days. Assuming that particular Gathering passed over and allowed him some peace away from New York. He dipped and picked her up, pulling her legs around his waist as he did so.

"Now, you listen to me you goddess amongst women. You didn't put a 'pisser' on anything. I'm in love with you, you're hopelessly in love with me, and nothing in this world would make me happier than to spend the rest of your days together. Besides, I've already put a reserve on the rest of your nights." He grinned as he moved against her suggestively. This conversation had done nothing to distract his lower half from what they'd been about just a few moments before.

[Claire Ihi]

Methos wore a quiet thoughtfulness as though it was a comfortable sweater, wrapping it around himself as though moulded to his flesh. However, he sounded perplexed at Claire's failed backtracking on the proposal. Perhaps it wasn't too soon after all. Still, it had been an error of judgment to just blurt it out in such a manner, and she watched Methos' expression with interest.
"Too soon," she asserted, a soft smile dancing on her lips for a moment, before being swallowed up. "I'm aware it feels like longer, but we've only known one another for a few months." Claire smirked, pure mischief dancing in her eyes. "Besides, what would my parents say if I told them I was getting married to a man who's... oh, five millennia older than I am?" A jest, a quick joke, but something that had to be addressed if they were to move forward.

Claire couldn't help laughing as Methos hoisted her up, and the laugh turned to a squeal as he tugged her legs around his waist. She looked at him with more than a hint of incredulity. "You're serious," she murmured, her lips tracing a seductive line along his jaw. "You honestly want to get married?" She hadn't thought that marriage was on the cards for them: after all, she would be wife number 69.

68 wives in one lifetime had to be enough for anyone... right?

[Methos]

Methos gave her a tiny 'nope' shake of his head, so miniscule it was almost as if the statement of too soon was so self-evidently wrong that it barely warranted a physical disagreement. Time was immaterial to a man who had lived so long, and she was even busy commenting on that very fact when he chuckled. "They'd say I don't look a day over 250. You know, if you'd been Jewish the fact that I'm a doctor with property in Florida would have already sealed the deal on this whole marriage thing."

He grinned back at her. "As a Quickening," he replied as he reached around her arse to take hold of himself, moving his hips while kissing her collarbone. Parting the folds of her nethers as he fully intended to have sex with his lady love, whether discussing serious things or not. "I do." He pressed slowly into her as he whispered in her ear, just loudly enough to top the running water that slid over them. "Claire, I love you. I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of your days on this earth by your side in blissful matrimony. I want to make love to you til you forget your name, lay with you in the sun until we forget time. And I want to give the Watchers a black eye on your behalf."