Title: Castles in the Air
Fandom: Highlander
Rating: General
Length: 300 (Triple drabble)
Summary: Duncan and Methos share a brief moment


In Paris, on a barge, along the Seine, two friends lounged companionably.

Watching clouds.

"That one looks like a--"

"Sheep," Methos said.

Duncan squinted. "I don't see it."

"Don't you? I can almost hear it singing," Methos said. "Baa, baa, baa."

"What about that one?" Duncan tried. "Horse? Motorcycle?"

"Sheep," Methos said.

"Here comes a wagon wheel," Duncan said firmly.

Methos shrugged. "Sheepish sort of wagon wheel."

"They all look like sheep to you?"

"Occupational hazard. I still see them in my sleep."

"You were a shepherd?"

"Shepherd, baker," Methos sang, "beggar-man, thief."

Death on a horse, neither said.

**

Remembering lives as tinkers and tailors, soldiers and spies, they watched the clouds go by.

Duncan pointed his beer bottle at an elongated cloud, laughing. "What does that remind you of?"

Methos opened his mouth.

"Don't say sheep."

Methos closed his mouth.

Duncan grinned. "Look, it's getting longer."

"They do that," Methos observed sagely.

"What do that?" Duncan prompted him.

Methos screwed up his eyes as if thinking. "Geoducks?"

Duncan leaned towards Methos, his knees spread, dangling his beer bottle at his crotch. "You're an idiot," he said mildly.

"Simmer down." Methos smiled. "Sometimes a cloud is just a cloud."

**

Clouds charged a searchlight moon that lit the sky as if to belie the night.

Duncan came out on deck and handed Methos a glass.

"Ah, the good stuff."

"For good company," Duncan's smile flashed in the moonlight.

Methos brooded over the water. "Never liked boats."

Duncan nudged him. "Look up, then."

"Never liked planes much either." A jet droned in the distance. "The sky was better without them."

"Time marches on," Duncan said softly.

"Don't it, though," Methos clinked his glass against Duncan's. "To time."

They sat together, shoulders touching.

The moon tumbled through the clouds towards another morning.