| Subject: Learning to Fly |
Author:
Sherry
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: 01:19:27 05/05/02 Sun
Title: Learning to Fly
Author: Sherry
Email: junruichen@aol.com
Summary: Methos leaves but then regrets it
Pairing: D/M
Rating: NC-15 for implied slash
Character: M
Author's Notes: This doesn't really go with the song, well, not exactly. More like what I get from the song, which I think is what we are supposed to do. But since this is supposed to take in Hood River, I had to have some way to move him here. This is what I've got. I think I should be lucky that I live right near the border between Washington and Oregon. I have no idea where Seacouver is other than in WA, so please forgive me on that.
Hopefully, this comes out right... I'm not sure about the formating needed for this place.
This really got away from me and isn't my best work at all. And it's a little long but I'm not over 4 pages. :)
Also, sorry for being late. I live in PST and I can't go online until 9 pm.
Author's Warnings: Rambling, unrealistic Methos with a really cheesy ending.
Learning To Fly
By Sherry
There is something about MacLeod...
He is handsome, I'll give you that, but there's something more than that. He's an incurable boy-scout, champion of the weak and defenseless, protector of the innocent... No, it isn't that...
If it were I would not be here today, this night -- wait. No that isn't right...no. This morning. It is morning isn't it? Yes...yes, an hour before dawn...it is morning.
Where was I? Yes... I would not be here today, this morning if it was only MacLeod's stunning beauty or the goodness of his being. It would be far more easier if it was only that.
But there is something about that man... Something...
I left him this morning.
Surprised I can leave him so easily? So am I.
No, it was not easy! How could you ever think that leaving
MacLeod is ever easy? Ask any of his past loves -- leaving that man is never easy, never. Is it a surprise that all who have left, have basically gone by one way? Though you think you are the exception (and so does he, that hurts the most) you can not escape him, can not escape the inevitable.
I couldn't be that -- not for him. Have not for anybody. It's always been so easy, so easy... Why the hell isn't it easy now?
I don't understand it! I don't! He's just like the others! Why should he be any different from any of them? It should be easy! It should be, should be, should be!
But it's not and I've left him any way.
So here I am, an hour away from dawn, driving on a highway I
have no business being on, going to place I haven't even
decided upon yet. I just got in my car and drove -- a flight of fancy made on a whim.
Oh Duncan, see what you've done to me? Me, the man who
never runs without a plan, counter plan and a fail-safe plan for each different route reduced to running in the dark of the night with nothing to speak of but my desire to fly.
In my carelessness, I had not even bothered to check the tank, running out three hours from hom- No, from MacLeod. Didn't even notice it if not for the blinking orange light, piercing through the dark haze surrounding my eyes.
I blinked futilely, trying to clear my thoughts and vision, trying to remember why I hadn't just hopped on a plan as I had planned. Another thing, MacLeod, you've made me deviate
from my plans, caution thrown to the winds. Unheeded
warnings, I thought I thought of everything. But I hadn't
remembered to take you into account.
Taking the next exit I slowed the car down, trying to gain a
sense of where I am, where I had finally ended up.
A Texeco station right on the left, I pull in hoping to leave soon, my hands itching to get away. Ever since last night, I can't keep my eyes from the circling skies, the desire and the compulsion to leave strong.
I look around a smirk beginning to form on my lips. A typical, sleepy (and most likely boring, I thought) northwestern town. Probably sustained by tourism, I thought with a half snort. Isn't that how places like this make a living?
Across the street I see a couple, no a family, a little girl (maybe 10? 11? one of those...) darted from behind her mother's legs. They were setting up an apple stand and for a brief moment, I wondered why anyone would stop at a stand like that. My eyes were fixated on the cases of apples they had. Off the truck, across over to the stand, back down to the ground with a small thump and then up the individual apples go. One by one, up and up to the stand, meticulously stack. One I suppose, slipped free and tumbled down the pyramid of green, bumping and rolling, jolted each time until finally it fell off the side. The girl makes a last moment attempt to catch it, but misses it by mere
seconds. It hits the ground -- THUD!
"Hey man, that's $13.45," the shivering man announced, his
hand resting on the roof where he had slammed it.
"What?" I said, half in reaction. My head jerked up as I did so. Coming back to my sense, I remembered myself and I paid the man. I pulled out of the station, preparing to leave, when suddenly instead of returning to the highway and continuing on my journey to who knows where, I took the road into the town.
I drove around that morning, around the town and out, just
driving. No reason what so ever for why I chose to stay in that small little town.
I saw the apples trees, acres of them all in little rows, their branches full of light red fruit and I saw the pear trees and the cherry trees as well. Everywhere I looked, everywhere I turned -- the fruit surrounded me. I think have even seen a peach tree.
The skies were opening up, light sluggishly returning as night turned to day. Why am I here, in this nameless town on this horrible day?
Any idiot could see that it was about to rain. Rain. I leave one rainy country for another -- all for you MacLeod. Always for you.
MacLeod.
Suddenly realizing I hadn't noticed where I was driving, I
pulled off the road and off to the side. I suddenly felt
claustrophobic and opened the door to get out. I was on a long road, winding turns but I found myself on a stretch of straight street. There was nothing but the whirl of the fans to keep me company.
Off in the distance I heard the soft repetitive sounds of a train and combined with the soft thum of the fans, I felt somewhat comforted.
I pulled my coat tightly around me, leaning on the car as I
looked forward. The sight I saw was breath-taking -- or what I know these mortals would find breath-taking. After five thousand years on this world, there's very little that I have not seen but despite all that, I could still feel a slight tugging inside my chest from the sight.
The tall, majestic mountain -- which I don't know the name of but then again I've never had the need to know the geography of this region before -- white with newly fallen snow, jutting out on the horizon. Somehow I had managed to drive myself to a higher altitude than from where I had started because when I looked down I could see the darkened river I had crossed earlier.
My hair was being blown askew by the winds and I suddenly
felt annoyed at myself. Why am I here and not in a warm, dry
paradise? Isn't Bora Bora nice this time of year?
And then I look across to the land in front of me. Separated by a rolling river was the state of Washington...and Duncan MacLeod.
I don't know why I left -- no, yes I do, if I'm truly honest with myself. MacLeod...Duncan told me he loved me tonight. Usually I wouldn't bother with things like that -- so what if they loved me? --but this was MacLeod. He wouldn't say it unless he meant it, I've known him long enough to gleam that from his personality.
His proclamation alone wouldn't usually have made me worry
about it too much. No, it was realization that I loved him in return that sent me off packing.
How the hell can I be in love? And with him?
It just couldn't be.
High above the mountain top, into the distance, a ribbon of
black still lingered in spite of the new morning light.
Even now, miles away from MacLeod, I could still feel his
presence, his essence, his soul with me right now, shrouding
me, surrounding my very being. I gasped for air, suddenly
feeling as if air had just became a precious commodity.
Trying to calm down, I ran a hand through my hair roughly. It had started to get long again and for a brief moment I was sorry I had shorn it off as I had planned a month ago. But then things between Duncan and I had gotten serious and I couldn't find the time. Always there was something else to do, something more important.
MacLeod. Duncan. His very name sends shivers through my
body as I had an overwhelming urge to be with him. Even
miles away, I can't seem to escape his irresistible grasp.
Each time before I had always been certain that leaving was the best solution for me. Every time...except this one. I had never met a man like MacLeod before, avoiding his type of person like the plague, but there is something about MacLeod...
And I just can't allow myself to feel this! All my instants are yelling DON'T! HE'LL KILL YOU! HE'LL EVENTUALLY
BE THE DEATH OF YOU! yet at the same time, a little voice
inside of me is whispering no. you'll see. he's different. you're different. it'll work. you'll see... and I am torn between them both.
I want to run back to Seacouver, beg Duncan to take me back,
but I only stand, transfixed by the light in the distance. Yellow gold intermixed with shades of orange, blending together to form a light, but bright awaking dawn.
And suddenly I feel very tired, the drive that had made me run in the first place leaving me. Why am I here? I ask myself. MacLeod loves me, he says. He loves me so why am I here and not there?
I have never felt this sort of emotions I feel whenever I'm with Duncan. Here is a man who've seen me at my worst and my
best, a man who've seen every part of me yet even when
confronted with my past, he doesn't run and hide. And he tells me he loves me.
He loves me.
So I get back into my little car, cursing for being such a fool and turned towards the light. Sounds so annoyingly cliché when you think about it; heading off into the distance, into the setting -- or in this case rising -- sun where everything will be all right. But that doesn't bother me today as it would have any other day. I had looked into my future, in the comforting darkness of the night and in the stark unrelenting day. But each time I came up with the only thing that matters. Duncan MacLeod loves me and I love Duncan MacLeod and for the moment, that's all I care about.
"Learning to Fly" (Pink Floyd)
Into the distance, a ribbon of black
Stretched to the point of no turning back
A flight of fancy on a windswept field
Standing alone my senses reeled
A fatal attraction holding me fast, how
Can I escape this irresistible grasp?
Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted Just an earth-bound misfit, I
Ice is forming on the tips of my wings
Unheeded warnings, I thought I thought of everything
No navigator to guide my way home
Unladened, empty and turned to stone
A soul in tension that's learning to fly
Condition grounded but determined to try
Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I
Above the planet on a wing and a prayer,
My grubby halo, a vapour trail in the empty air,
Across the clouds I see my shadow fly
Out of the corner of my watering eye
A dream unthreatened by the morning light
Could blow this soul right through the roof of the night
There's no sensation to compare with this
Suspended animation, A state of bliss
Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
Feedback: 