Pillow Talk
Author: DebC
E-mail: debchilson@yahoo.com
Keywords: PWP, AU, drabble
Challenge: Methos/Miranda challenge
Rating: R
Summary: Miranda and an old friend engage in pillow talk
Feedback: Yes, love it!
Disclaimers: Mysterious Ways belongs to PAX and Lion's Gate. Highlander belongs to Rysher & Co. They don't belong to me.
Author's Notes: This is for the Methos/Miranda pairing challenge. It's mostly PWP, with a hint of spoilers for my other HL crossover "Conflict of Interest." You do *NOT* need to have read that to understand this. I promise.

"Pillow Talk"

Miranda stretched, extending her long, slim body as far as it could go in the very occupied bed. Her sleepy movements caused the bedsprings of her lover's bed to bounce, but not enough to rouse him. Normally he was a light sleeper, years of watching his back--and head--having taught him the value of skillful wariness. Even in sleep. But for right now--in the aftermath of their joyous reunion--his slumber was more like that of a lazy, pampered cat asleep in the sun after a dinner of rich cream.

A slow smile stretched across her face, and she reached out to touch his short, dark hair. It was soft, like running her fingers through silk threads. She stroked him gently, petting his hair lovingly before running her fingers down the exposed skin on the back of his neck. Her smile widened a little as he began to stir at last.

"S'nice..." he mumbled sleepily into his pillow. "Don't stop."

She laughed, leaning over to press a kiss into the groove behind his earlobe. "How easily the jaded one succumbs to a little 'persuasiveness.' I thought you were supposed to be teaching me self-preservation, Oh Great and Old One."

"Old!" he rolled over now, showing off a smooth expanse of muscled chest. "You weren't complaining earlier."

"Who's complaining?" She smirked at him just before he gathered her in his arms. "Would it be weak of me to say I really missed this?" Missed you, she amended mentally. She didn't see Methos... Adam Pierson... or whomever he was these days... nearly half as often as she'd like to.

"Oh, definitely weak. What if I were the type of scoundrel who'd use that tidbit to his advantage?"

"And you aren't?" she asked just before he cut her off by pressing his lips to hers in a lingering kiss. Their mouths softly melded together as if they were made to--two halves of one whole being brought together at last. She could taste salt on his lips--sweat from their earlier coupling. It had been different then, more raw passion and less finesse. They'd wanted each other too badly to care about the finer points of making love. But this...

This was the slow seduction she'd expect from a man who'd had five thousand years to perfect his technique. She wanted to savor it, hold onto the feeling of being his for as long as she could, because she knew it wouldn't last.

"Never," he denied, grinning, once they came up for air. She swatted him playfully, enjoying the freedom of being around someone she didn't have to hide her true identity from.

"How long are you staying in Portland?" she asked, smoothing a wisp of hair out of her eyes so she could see him better. Her breath caught in her chest as she waited for his answer.

She didn't have to wait long, though. Methos tossed her a devil-may-care grin as he pulled her in for another kiss. "As long as you want me, Miranda."

She wanted him for a very, very long time.