"Did Mac say he was coming tonight?" Joe asked over the music and the constant buzz of conversation as he wiped down the counter. The pretty girl, whose name Methos had yet to find out, had turned away and was talking with one of her girlfriends on the other side.
"He said something about dropping--" Methos sat up straighter and turned to the door. MacLeod walked in, backlit by the light of the dying day. "That answer your question?"
Methos watched MacLeod approach. His hair was down. Long coat over a thin blue (see-through) sweater and dark jeans. He looked good. Methos smiled his hello.
"Hello, hello," said MacLeod, first to Joe and then to Methos. Mac took off his coat and Methos lifted his eyebrows a little, mentally whistling, before smiling again and then turning away. It looked like MacLeod was on the prowl for some... action. Not five minutes passed before MacLeod had the pretty, dark-haired girl's name (Sheila) and the names of her friends (Joan and Cynthia) and was starting in on their jobs, life's ambitions, respective families, and childhood dreams. Meanwhile, the liquor was flowing.
Methos noticed Joe's inquisitive eyes on him and he shrugged at the bartender, saying, What are you gonna do? MacLeod was in his element. Methos turned his attention back to MacLeod, admiring the way the man worked.
MacLeod's smiling eyes caught Methos', gleaming with glee over the heads of the girls surrounding him. Methos shook his head and sighed. He didn't care to name the emotion he felt, so instead he looked around the bar for other prospects. Maybe he should follow MacLeod's example, he thought. Swigging the last of his beer, Methos stood up, consciously shedding some of his ever-present shyness, and sauntered off to a small cluster of women at the other end of the bar.
Most of the evening became a blur as Methos began to lose himself in his quest to out-flirt MacLeod, which was no small task. Keeping pace with his Highland friend, Methos was quite pleased with the bevy (two) of beautiful maidens he'd managed to gather around him, only stealing a moment here and there to look over at MacLeod.
Chatting up a promising young woman with red hair and charming green eyes, Methos looked over at MacLeod and was startled to see him talking to a man, about MacLeod's height, not too young, handsome.
Methos didn't think anything of this, except that maybe MacLeod had actually struck out with Sheila, which pleased him. He thought of different ways to tease MacLeod. It was harder to pay attention to the redhead, and Methos began to subtly turn her so he could watch MacLeod over her head.
Several moments later, Mac was still talking to the other man. Methos heard MacLeod laugh and the other man moved a little closer. Methos frowned. MacLeod and other man continued to be engrossed with each other, deep in conversation. MacLeod was leaning casually on his elbow. They were talking an awful lot, thought Methos. He wondered what could possibly be so interesting.
The redhead left. Methos barely noticed. He went to Joe and asked for a beer.
"What? Oh yeah, I guess." Methos shrugged, still looking at MacLeod. He pursed his lips. He turned to ask Joe something, but then changed his mind, sitting on a stool instead.
And then, the other man left, walking to the back of the bar, and Methos let himself feel relief, although he didn't actually acknowledge what it was he was relieved at. MacLeod walked over to them.
"Having fun, Methos?" MacLeod asked.
Methos nodded. "Oh, sure. You?"
"Not bad." The other man appeared again, coat in hand. He stopped by MacLeod, close, touching MacLeod on his arm. MacLeod looked at him, smiled, and then turned to Joe. "See you later, Joe. Methos." And then, grabbing his coat, he walked out, the nameless man following behind him.
Methos' jaw dropped. He tried to speak, but only made little gasping noises. He pointed to the door.
"Something wrong, Methos?"
"He.. bah.. wha.. " He swallowed, and tried again. "Did... Did MacLeod just walk out to have a one night stand with a man?"
Joe shrugged, but his eyes twinkled. "Looks like, doesn't it."
Joe shrugged again. "It happens."
Methos gaped for several more moments. Then he closed his mouth. And thought. And thought some more.
And, oh yes.