This story contains scenes of overt heterosexual lust and discreet conduct between consenting adult men. If you are under age or don't care for this, LEAVE NOW. As usual, characters from Highlander: the Series belong to Davis-Panzer et alia ; I only play with them from time to time without any compensation. No harm; no foul; no profit. Anyone or anything new, however, is mine (left-overs again). Inspired by a beer commercial — go figure.  Beta read by Nikki Memmott. Thank you, merci beaucoup, tapadh leat, gracias, danke, grazie, spazebo, arigato.  You have been warned. Any errors are mine alone.

Seacouver. Sometime after “A Year and a Day.”

“ Come on, Suze. There’s room at the bar.” It required prodigious use of elbows for the two women to approach the crowded bar. Once there the blonde caught the bartender’s eye and ordered two glasses of white wine.  She and the brunette slid onto barstools still warm from the last occupants. Both pairs of eyes scanned the room methodically, one gaze settling for a moment on an attractive man at the other end of the bar, then moving on around the room.

Once they had each studied the entire population, they both returned their appraising stare to the man at the other end of the bar. He was tanned, well-groomed, and most importantly, unfettered by a wedding ring. After a quick nod between them, Suze called the bartender.

The bar’s eponym was pouring drinks that night, his hands flying between bottle and glass, only occasionally grasping the cane that more often than not leaned against the counter, the confines of the bar-pit support enough for his prosthetics. “Yes, ladies?”  His voice was gravelly with age, but there was a velvet undertone that elicited two smiles showing othodontically perfect teeth.

“That one,” Linda said, tossing her chestnut hair behind her shoulders.

Joe turned his head to follow her gaze, and saw their target. “Good choice, ladies.” He smiled back at them. “Eddy usually comes in alone.”

“Send him a beer, Joe,” Suze said. “A long neck.”

“A long neck it is,” he acknowledged. He called his assistant from the opposite end of the bar, and quietly explained the order.

Linda and Suze watched their target carefully as the bartender presented the brown bottle of beer and gestured toward them. But as he raised the beer in salute, Linda’s eyes caught sight of a vision that made her gasp.

A quick elbow in the ribs got Suze’s attention, and she, too, gasped and stared.

At a table behind their still-nameless target, sat the man of both their dreams. He looked almost too young to be drinking in a bar. His strawberry-blond hair was long enough for the curls to be unruly, and his smile lit up half the room. His hands were folded together on the table, covering whether or not he wore a ring, but they were willing to take a chance.

“Oh, Joe, hold the long neck....” Linda’s voice faded as she continued to stare at the golden-haired Adonis.  “Him.”

“Ladies, I don’t think...”

“Him, Joe.” Suze was adamant.

“Okay.” Joe called to Lou. “Take one to Rich—on the ladies.”

“Be right back,” Adam whispered, his mouth inches from Richie’s ear. The bar was noisy but not overly loud, but they were accustomed to acting discreetly in public.

Richie watched his lover walk through the crowd toward the men’s room, then settled back against the booth’s cushions in a half-assed imitation of Adam’s trademark sprawl.

He looked up when the bartender brought the long-neck.  Lou’s whispered explanation made him smile, and he nodded at the two women at the bar.

Joe watched as the two women giggled at Richie’s smile. How long should I let them hope? he wondered.

Adam slid into the booth to sit next to Richie. “Miss me?” he asked.

“Oh, there’s two of them!” Suze could barely contain herself at the sight of the taller, dark-haired man who joined their target.

A large-boned hand covered the freckled one holding the free beer, and squeezed.

Suze and Linda fell silent. Their hopeful grins became open-mouth gapes.

After a moment Linda finally found her voice and spoke. “Well,” she said, and cleared her throat. “At least they’re not married….”

This page last updated
23 August 2002

© 2001 Emma Keigh