Duncan shifted in his seat, sweat glistening on his face. Methos watched him, amused…entranced. Between them on the table, red Valentine's roses swayed in the frigid air-conditioning.

Duncan reached for his wineglass, shuddered minutely. Stopped. Methos watched him hungrily. The collar's outline was just a subtle ridge beneath Duncan's turtleneck, but even that didn't interest Methos half as much as the other gift he'd persuaded Duncan into. Or perhaps 'persuaded into Duncan' was more like it.

Duncan's hand shook a scarlet stain onto the white tablecloth. "Methos…please."

"Keep it in a little longer," Methos purred. "Just a little…for me?"





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