A very brief explanation is required: A couple of weeks ago our own dear Lurker Lanning Cook was threatening me with a vacuum cleaner. Why is a story for another time. I commented on how kinky something sounded, and she responded with two lines of dialogue that had me ROTFL for days. I expect you'll know them when you get to them.
Joe Dawson had finally gotten smart.
After all, there were benefits to being a Watcher in the latter part of the twentieth century. And what good was having a key to your Immortal's apartment if you weren't going to use it?
Installing the small camera in Duncan MacLeod's loft had been ridiculously easy with the help of a screwdriver and a set of large-print instructions that came in six languages. Joe read the ones in French, just to keep in practice, and in less than an hour he was back at his own house, kicking back in his favorite armchair and Watching the loft interior on his television set, with that great stereo surround sound.
Ah, this was the life. No more skulking in the bushes, peering into windows and trying not to get arrested. Now he could do his job from the comfort of his own living room, with a cold beer in one hand and the remote control in the other. His nice, clean bathroom was just a few feet away, and he could go make himself a sandwich any time he wanted. Best of all, the TV screen split so he could watch Days of Our Lives whenever MacLeod's own private soap opera got too boring.
Joe waited patiently, notebook at hand, for Duncan to come home. He was just starting to think about taking a nap when he heard the sound of the lift coming up from the dojo level. He straightened up and watched intently as Duncan and Methos emerged, carrying bags of groceries.
Methos. Hm, now that was interesting. Joe had been wondering for a while what was going on with those two. Methos was his usual smart-assed, annoying self, but Duncan had been as jumpy as a stuck cat lately, especially around Methos.
And then there was the strange little incident at the bar last night.
Duncan had been sitting at his usual table, Methos beside him, and the two were whispering intimately for close to an hour. From his place behind the bar, Joe suddenly heard a bark of laughter from Methos, and when he looked over at the pair, Duncan was blushing like a tomato under a heat lamp. The Scot had hastily gotten up to refill their glasses and, as he scooted past Methos, the ancient Immortal had reached out and pinched Duncan's butt.
Now even Joe Dawson could admit that Duncan MacLeod had a very finely shaped posterior, but it came as somewhat of a surprise to see Methos getting hands-on experience with it. He watched now as the two men stowed away their purchases in the kitchen. He noted that Methos rescued a small bottle of some sort of oil before it got placed in the cabinet, and raised his eyebrows. Hands-on, indeed.
Unfortunately, the two Immortals did not seem in the least bit interested in satisfying Joe's prurient curiosity, although he could infer quite a lot from the way they settled into a cozy domesticity. Duncan smiled sleepily at his friend and settled in on the couch to read the afternoon paper while Methos began cleaning up around the loft.
Joe did a double take.
Methos? Doing *housework*?? How in the world had Duncan managed that one?
Methos had a broom now and was sweeping around the hardwood floor of the loft. His method seemed to be to sweep all the dirt onto the rug in front of the couch, earning himself a dubious look from Duncan. The oldest living Immortal merely shrugged and went to get the vacuum cleaner.
Something happened when the vroom of the vacuum growled into life. Joe couldn't quite say what, but he could have sworn that Duncan's ears perked up. There was a studied casualness to the way Methos ran the vacuum over the rug, guiding the powerful machine with one hand with the other stuck in his jeans pocket. After just a couple of minutes the small rug was spotless, but Methos kept on going. Duncan's eyes were riveted to the slight sway of the slender hips, and Joe held his breath, in anticipation of he hardly knew what.
Finally, Methos turned off the Hoovermatic and, leaving it where it stood, went over to the closet again. From the top shelf he pulled a jumble of tubes and strangely shaped vacuum attachments. He seemed to consider for a moment, then selected one particular device and went back to stand directly in front of Duncan.
"Excuse me, MacLeod," he said with mock-politeness. "But you're going to have to get off the sofa now. I need to use the crevice tool on it."
That was when Duncan jumped him.
Joe wasn't sure what he had been expecting. He had already suspected that there was more between the two Immortals than simply their ever-growing bar tab, and he considered himself to be a fairly open-minded man. He wasn't at all opposed to indulging in a little kinky voyeurism, but what he was seeing now made his jaw hang open and his eyes bug out.
He had seen starving lions go at each other less ravenously than these two, and when the vacuum started up again, he blushed all the way to the tips of his ears before hastily turning off the TV.
The stereo sound, however, did not work by remote and, as Joe pulled himself out of his chair to go turn it off, he heard something that made him stop in his tracks.
"Ooooh, Methos.... Please...the crevice tool...."
"Beg me for it. *BEG* me for the crevice tool, Highlander...."
Joe slowly turned around and went back to his chair. He popped open a fresh can of beer and reached for a bag of chips before turning the picture back on.
A lascivious smirk spread over his face.
Yes, it was good to be a Watcher.
END
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