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The Cookie Story 7


Title: The Cookie Story 7

Author: chelle

Author's email:

Author's URL:

Fandom: Highlander

Category: Slash

Pairing: Duncan/Methos

Series: The Cookie Story

Archive: Ask first

"Andrea, Dan, how was your trip?" Duncan asked, stepping back from the door and ushering them inside.

"Pretty good," Andrea answered, looking around the foyer. "Where's Christine?"

"Napping on the couch with Adam. They were up late last night watching Godzilla movies."


"I'll go wake them."

"No need to," Methos said from behind him.

Christine darted past to embrace her mother.

"Welcome back," Methos said, moving to Duncan's side. "How was the conference?"


"They usually are."

"But Dan had a good time in D.C."

Christine was now hugging her father, who looked up. "Thanks for watching her."

"Our pleasure," Methos said. "Even if she did make me dance."

"I didn't make you. You could've said 'no,'" Christine pointed out from her place beside her father.

"Sure I could."

"What are you complaining about?" Duncan asked. "At least you didn't get any notes."

"You've mentioned that note an awful lot. I think you're proud of it."

"Note?" Andrea asked.

"Allison wrote him one of those 'I like you' notes," Christine explained.

"We don't know for certain who it was from; it was unsigned," Duncan said. "I was kind of hoping it was from you."

"Yeah, right," Christine answered.

"What is it with you two and unsigned notes from secret admirers?" Andrea asked.

"At least mine came with flowers."

Christine looked up at Duncan. "You sent him flowers? You really are old."

"You thought I should send him a note."

"Christine wanted you to send me a note?"

"He didn't think you liked him."

"I knew he liked me. I just wasn't sure he liked me," Duncan said in his own defense.

"That makes no sense," Christine said.

"Duncan sent the flowers?" Andrea asked.

"Why didn't you tell her I sent the flowers?"

"We weren't exactly at the telling people stage."

"Telling people what?" Dan asked.

"At the time we were dating." Methos explained.

"Dating?" Dan repeated. "You and Duncan?" He looked from one man to the other.

"We're not dating any more."

"Now we're living together," Duncan added. "Or we will be when I finish moving."

"You're living together?" Dan repeated.

Duncan and Methos nodded.

"And you're not just roommates?"

They nodded again.

"But—" Andrea started. Four sets of eyes turned toward her. "What about Tessa?"

"I think we could all use something to drink," Methos said, looking at Dan and Christine. "Why don't we go see what we can find?"

"There's ice cream," Christine said as they walked to the kitchen. "We can make milkshakes."

"Milkshakes it is," Methos said, glancing back at Duncan.


"Let's go sit," Duncan suggested, and Andrea followed him into the living room. When they were both settled on the couch, he spoke again. "The answer to your question is that I loved Tessa. Very much."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just—-" Andrea looked away.

"You think of me as straight."

"Rather narrow of me, isn't it?" She glanced at him.

"Not really. I thought the same myself until a couple of months ago."

"Surprised you, did it?"

"A lifetime of being attracted to women and suddenly I'm sending my best friend flowers."

"Are you happy?"

Duncan smiled. "Ridiculously."

"That's all that matters."

"So you're okay with this?"

"I do have one concern. What on Earth were you doing getting relationship advice from a twelve year old?"

"I didn't ask. She offered."

"Well, that makes all the difference."


Duncan closed the door behind their guests, waving good-bye to Christine one last time, and immediately placed his hand on the small of Methos' back, guiding his lover toward the stairs.

"Something we need up there?" Methos asked as he reached the bottom step.

"Yes." Duncan continued the pressure on his lover's back, increasing it when Methos climbed the stairs too slowly for his taste.

"What might that be?"

"You know damn well what that might be."

"If I did I wouldn't have asked."

"Yes, you would."

"Why would I ask a question to which I already know the answer?"

"To annoy me."

"Why would I want to annoy you?"

They were almost at the top, and Duncan could see their destination. "Because it amuses you. But…" He stepped onto the same step as Methos. "I think we can find better forms of entertainment."

"Really? What did you have in mind?"

"Sex. Hot, sweaty, heart-pounding, good and sticky, sex."

"Why didn't you say so?" Methos asked, racing up the last three steps and into the bedroom.

Methos was lying spread-eagled in the middle of the bed when Duncan entered. He rose onto his elbows. "I probably should have taken my clothes off first, huh?"

"That would have been good."

"I wanted to, but there wasn't time." He smiled seductively. "If you close your eyes I'll take them off now."

"I've seen you naked before."

"It'll amuse me if you close your eyes."

Duncan closed his eyes and turned his back for good measure. He listened to the rustling of dropping clothes, picturing Methos naked and spread out for his delectation in the center of the bed.

"You can open your eyes and turn around."

Duncan turned around. First his jaw dropped, and then he began to laugh. He laughed so hard he clutched his sides and tears began to form in his eyes.

"It's really bad form to laugh at your lovers, MacLeod. It kills the mood."

Duncan dried his eyes and looked up. Unfortunately, the sight of Methos just set him off again. Methos was spread out in the center of their bed, and he was mostly naked. His arms were bare, so were his legs, and his torso. Everything was bare except his cock. That was covered with a cloth elephant head and trunk. "Where," he finally managed to stammer out, "did you get that?"

"Secret Santa gift when I was in the Watchers. Someone apparently thought the idea of sweet, geeky Adam Pierson in something like this was funny."

"It is funny."

Methos chuckled.

"And it totally kills the mood."

"I'm sure we can regain it."

"Are you?"

"Come here, Duncan."

Duncan settled onto the bed, leaning over his lover. Methos immediately drew him down for a searing kiss. "Mood returning?"

"Mmm," Duncan answered, seeking another kiss.

Duncan lost himself in the sweetness of Methos' mouth. They'd kissed over the last three days, but not like this. Not long, seeking kisses that focused every nerve in your body and tugged at your very soul.

Suddenly, Methos pulled away. Unthinkingly, Duncan sought to draw him back. Methos placed his fingers over Duncan's lips, stopping him. He studied Duncan's face for a moment before asking quietly, "Duncan, do you want to fuck me?"

The words cut through him, opening those places he usually went only when Methos wasn't home. The places in his imagination where he was pressing gently into his lover, and Methos was crying out his name in pleasure, asking him for more. A dozen questions whirled through Duncan's mind. Why now? Methos had never even hinted at wanting this before. Was this something he did rarely? Were his previous experiences unpleasant ones? Were there previous experiences?


"I don't want you to do this just for me."

"I'm not. I want this. I want you."

Duncan traced his lover's cheek with his fingers, knowing his heart was completely visible in his face and not caring. "Take that ridiculous elephant thing off."

"I don't know. It might add to the experience."


"I offer to let you top, and you immediately become bossy."

Duncan pulled away.


"This isn't about control or power or being on top. Not for me."

Methos reached up and stroked his hair. "I know. It isn't for me, either. I just…"

"I know." Methos' many defense mechanisms were one of the things he understood. He raised his own hand to Methos' face once again, stroking a cheekbone with his thumb. "I want you. I want to feel what it's like to be inside of you. But only if it's what you want."

Methos slid from the bed and removed the elephant trunk. Somehow, he managed to do it with an unconscious eroticism that made Duncan's cock twitch. He returned to the bed and lay on his back; spreading his arms and legs, he grinned impudently. "I'm all yours. Do with me what you will."

Duncan leaned over him. "You may regret that offer."

"I've never regretted anything I've offered to you," Methos said, without a trace of teasing.

Duncan didn't answer with words; he stroked Methos' face with light touches of his fingertips, up a cheek, across his forehead, down the bridge of his nose to his lips. "Slow and easy, Methos. If it becomes too much, if you need to stop…"

"I'll tell you."

He moved his fingers away from Methos' lips, down to his neck, and replaced them with his mouth. The desire in this kiss was just an undertone. Love dominated it, clear and unmistakable. Shaken, Duncan refused to pull away. The kiss deepened until there was nowhere left to go, and then it began to ease, as they both drew gently back.

Parting, they searched each other's faces, each seeking confirmation that what had passed between them was real. Then they were moving toward one another again. There was more desire in this kiss, and Duncan sought safety in the familiar rush of pleasure.

Keeping his mouth where it was, he began to let his hands wander, along a shoulder, down a side, dipping lower to squeeze a buttock.

Methos did the same, tugging open the clothing Duncan hadn't yet removed.

Duncan loved it when it was like this, an easy exchange of kisses and caresses. It wasn't what he'd planned, but it was exactly what he wanted. He'd never imagined that making love to Methos would be so simple, so uncomplicated.

Just when Duncan began to think that perhaps it was time to take things further, Methos pulled away, reaching for the lubricant. He held up an almost empty tube. Duncan grinned at his disappointed expression. "I bought more."

Methos brightened considerably.

"I am a boy scout after all. Always prepared. Isn't that our motto?"

"I don't care what crackpot organizations you belong to, or what your motto is, as long as you've got more lube."

"You think the boy scouts are crackpots?"

"Duncan, get the lube. We can discuss the boy scouts later. In fact, I can't imagine a more ideal subject for post-coital conversation than the boy scouts."

"I can." Duncan squatted down and opened the cabinet in the base of the nightstand; he held up an unopened bottle of Probe, complete with pump. "We can talk about what a well-prepared and thoughtful lover I am."

"It'd be a short conversation."

"Probably for the best. We'll need to recuperate." Duncan said, stripping quickly.

"That confident of your skills are you?" Methos asked, as Duncan straddled his hips.

"I had a good teacher." Leaning forward, he captured a nipple and sucked hard, causing Methos to arch his back. It had taken a bit of adjustment at first, getting used to small nipples located over hard muscle instead of larger ones atop soft breasts, but now the feel of Methos' flesh in his mouth excited him every bit as much as a woman's ever had, perhaps more.

Hungry for more of Methos, he switched to the other side. It wasn't enough. He began kissing his way downward, moving quickly, anxious to get to his destination. Reaching Methos' cock he immediately took it into his mouth, teasing the top of it with lips and tongue as he ran his fingers along the sides. The taste of Methos, the feel of Methos, pleased him like nothing else.

"Don't." Methos pushed at him. "I'll come."

Duncan lifted his head and grinned sheepishly. "I just wanted a taste."


Duncan shifted so that he was no longer between Methos' legs. "Turn over."

Methos obeyed, and Duncan sucked in a breath at the sight. He placed a hand on Methos' shoulder and moved it slowly downward, savoring the feel of Methos' skin. He paused when he reached a buttock, cupping it in a hand. He placed kisses at the base of Methos' neck, trailing them downward. The body beneath him tensed when he reached the small of Methos' back. Hoping it was with anticipation, he continued on.

He licked at the place where Methos' buttocks joined, pulling a groan from his lover. Encouraged, he edged lower, exploring the space between them with his tongue. The tastes, the smells were earthier here than in other parts of Methos' body, but not unpleasant. Duncan placed a hand on the inside of one of Methos' thighs, nudging his legs apart and kneeling between them. He lifted Methos' hips from the bed, giving him better access. Not unpleasant at all.

Deepening the contact, he probed at Methos' entrance.

Methos let out a sound that started as a groan, but ended as a whimper when Duncan's tongue penetrated him.

"Fuck me, Duncan. Please."

Duncan pulled back. He gently stroked a buttock. "Yes." It took a couple of minutes of fumbling before he had the bottle unsealed and his fingers covered. He ran a single finger over wrinkled skin, spiraling inward as he did so. "Is this okay?"

"Yes." Methos pushed his hips back toward Duncan's probing finger.

Pushing inward, he forced his way past the ring of muscle guarding the entrance to Methos' body. Heat surrounded his fingertip. After a moment he pushed further. Once fully inside he moved his finger in circles, coating Methos' insides with lubricant. The smooth walls clung to his finger as he moved. He pushed toward the front of his lover's body, and Methos jerked in response. He repeated the action. Methos whimpered, and he began to brush his finger back and forth.

"Duncan, stop."

He stopped.

"Too much."

"I'm sorry."

"No. It felt good. Too good."

"Do you want to do something else?"

"I want you, deep inside me. So deep it feels like you're a part of me."

"I can do that."

Methos looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Then please do."

"More lube first?"

"Yeah, that'd be good."

He used two fingers this time, and Methos inhaled sharply when he pushed inside. "Okay?"

"Don't stop."

He continued. Methos was warm and soft, and the thought of how he would feel surrounding Duncan's cock was enough to make him moan quietly.

"I'm ready, Duncan."

Duncan didn't answer. He simply prepared himself and knelt behind his lover. Methos had never looked more vulnerable. He paused, knots forming in his stomach. He'd imagined this a hundred times, but the reality was much more daunting.

"I'll catch you."

Again, Duncan didn't answer. Not with words. He pressed a soft kiss to the small of Methos' back and then placed his cock at his lover's entrance and began to push forward. There was resistance, and he stopped.

"I'll be okay. You won't hurt me. Just push until you're past the muscle."

Taking a deep breath, he did as Methos' instructed, forcing himself just barely inside. Muscles spasmed around his cock. Duncan held still, waiting for it to subside. It did, and he pushed in a little further. "Is this?"

"It's perfect."

The pleasure in Methos' voice reassured him even more than the words, and he gently worked his way fully inside.

It was perfect. Softness and warmth surrounded him, cradling him. He felt protected and safe, even though he was stripped bare. And he felt protective. He knew right then he'd do anything for this man. He was resting on Methos' back, his cheek against Methos' skin. He turned his head, and kissed the flesh he was resting on. "Methos, it's beautiful."

"For me too." A hand closed over the one Duncan had wrapped around Methos' waist, squeezing.

"I suppose I should move."

"Only if you want to."

The thought of moving inside of Methos was irresistible. "I want to."

Still leaning over his lover he began to move his hips, small movements that gradually grew larger. Methos released his hand and Duncan straightened, taking the other man's hips in both of his hands. They were moving together now, and the pace was increasing. Methos' body was warm and inviting, and Duncan couldn't get enough of it; he plunged in over and over again. He was close, but there was one thing he still wanted. "Come for me, Methos. I want to feel it."

"Touch me."

Duncan's hand closed around Methos' cock. It was incredibly hard. He went directly to the most sensitive place, tugging firmly, and thrusting deep inside at the same time. Methos came, his entire body shaking. His cock was jerking in Duncan's hand, and his body was convulsing around Duncan's cock. Somehow Duncan held on, staving off his own orgasm long enough to truly enjoy his lover's.

Methos' forehead dropped to the pillow. He was breathing hard.

Duncan stroked his back with one hand, soothing.

"Come inside me, Duncan."

Duncan resumed moving, more gently this time. It took only a few movements and he was coming, pressed tightly against Methos' ass, the words 'I love you' echoing unspoken in his mind.

"So," Duncan asked when the ability to speak finally returned, "do you want to talk about the boy scouts now?"

"Sure, but do you think you could pull out first?"


"It went okay with Andrea?" Methos asked, as they settled down to sleep.

"It went fine. She was just a little thrown." Duncan was resting his head on Methos' shoulder, and he pulled the comforter up over them both.

"I'm not much like Tessa," Methos said, tightening his arms around Duncan now that his lover was done moving about.

"You're a lot like Tessa."

"You need to get your eyes examined, or possibly your head."

"Seriously. You're warm and loving, and soft, and you smell good," Duncan wiggled as though trying to snuggle closer, which was impossible, "and you're highly snuggable."

"Snuggable? That isn't even a word."

"Sure it is. I just invented it."

"You cannot go around simply inventing words."

"Why not?" Duncan lifted his head so he could see Methos' face. "If people like me didn't invent words then people like you wouldn't have jobs."

Methos opened his mouth to argue, shut it again.

Duncan grinned.

"Fine. I may be snuggable, but I am not soft."

"Okay, you're not soft…on the outside."

Methos glared at him.

"You're smooth," Duncan continued, no longer able to keep a straight face.

Methos managed to maintain the glare for another few seconds before giving in and laughing.


"Duncan," Methos asked softly, long after they'd fallen silent. "Are you scared?"


"Oh, good."

Duncan brushed a kiss to his temple. "Good night, Methos."

"Good night."


Methos stirred his coffee, studying the street for signs of Watchers. He'd spotted Kevin twice more over the weekend. If it was just Jane and Kevin then they probably hadn't taken their suspicions to their superiors. Of course, he didn't know what they suspected. That he was an Immortal, almost certainly. That he had known Kronos, possibly. That he was Methos— Duncan's presence washed over him, cutting off his train of thought.

The door opened, and a sweaty Highlander stepped inside. "Good run?" Methos asked, turning away from the window.

"Pretty good," Duncan said, reaching for Methos' coffee.

Methos studied him as he drank, noting the creases between his brows. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing. Shadows from the past."

"Did you run into someone?"

Duncan shook his head. "No, it's nothing like that." Turning, he placed the empty cup in the sink and leaned against the counter, gazing out of the window.

Methos moved to stand beside him and placed a hand on the small of Duncan's back.

"It's Christine."

Methos waited.

"Every time I've gotten close to a child it ended badly."

"It won't always."

"I know. I know I'm being irrational."

"You're allowed."

Duncan shot him a disgusted look.

"You're allowed because you're human, Duncan, not for any other reason."

Duncan nodded.

Methos removed his hand.

"What time is your class?" Duncan asked.

"Forty minutes. I need to get going."

"I'm volunteering at the community center until five. You want to meet at Joe's?"

"Sounds good." Methos leaned in for a brief kiss. "I'll see you then."

"Have a good day."

"You too."


Methos spotted a familiar back ahead of him on the university library steps. "Hey, Andrea." She stopped, and he dashed up the steps to her side. "Want to get lunch before the committee meeting?"

"Sure, around one?"

She didn't smile, and Methos noticed the circles under her eyes were a bit darker than usual. "Something wrong?"

"Our friend left a welcome home message for us."

"What was it?"

"Christine's cat. Dead."

Methos reached out and rested a hand on her elbow. "How's Christine?"

"Pretty upset."

"I can imagine. What did the police say?"

"What they always say. That it's probably just neighborhood kids, or a disgruntled student." She grimaced. "I'm glad I ran into you. I have a favor to ask."


"We're supposed to have dinner with a client of Dan's on Wednesday…"

"And you want me to stay with Christine," Methos finished.

"Yes. I know you had her all weekend, but…"

"I'll be happy to stay with her. Maybe Duncan and I'll take her to dinner or a movie."

"Apparently she's now the envy of all the junior high girls."

Methos smiled. "Being seen with Duncan has that affect."

"Not just Duncan," Andrea said. "So, lunch."

"I'll meet you at your office."

"And then you'll give me details."

"Details? Of what?" Methos asked, schooling his face into an expression of confusion.

"You know very well what. Mysterious flower sender, my ass."

"You wouldn't want me to violate his privacy now, would you?"

"Tessa always did."

"Oh great, you'll be comparing my stories about Duncan to hers."

"Are you going to go on and on about his kissing prowess, too?"

"Since you brought it up." Methos grinned.

"I'll see you later." Andrea returned the grin for a moment before continuing down the steps.


"So talk," Andrea said, as the waitress left with their order.

They had a quiet corner booth. Andrea had asked for it. All the better to interrogate him, Methos thought. "About what?" he asked, putting on his innocent face.


"Not much to tell. You already know about his kissing ability."

"But I don't know how you ended up kissing him."

"It was an accident."

"An accident?" Andrea echoed.


"Details, Adam, I want details."

"Remember how we went boat shopping after that party at your house?"

Andrea nodded.

"When he dropped me off after dinner I kissed him."

"Accidentally," Andrea said.

Methos nodded, reaching for his water glass.

"How do you accidentally kiss someone?"

"I don't know. We were saying good-night, and I leaned forward and kissed him."


"Yes, accidentally. Didn't we just cover that?"

"One accidental kiss and you moved in together."

"Not exactly," Methos said, toying with the condensation on his glass. "We dated first."

"You dated."

"Sort of."

"Sort of."

"Are you going to repeat everything I say?"

"If it continues to be this much fun, yes," Andrea grinned. "So, how many sort of dates did you have?"


"What did you do?"

"We went on a picnic."

"Duncan's idea."

Methos nodded. "And I took him to a concert."


"I took him home."


"I stayed later than I should have."

"I'm sure you did. Then what happened?"

"He sent me flowers."

"Such a romantic," Andrea said.

Methos grinned. "Yeah, he is."

"What happened next?"

"We spent the weekend together."

"Did you get out of bed?"

"Once or twice."

Andrea laughed softly. "It's really working?"

"So far." Methos took a drink of water. "Is it weird for you, seeing Duncan with me?"

"I haven't really seen him with you."

"I don't do demonstrations."

"Probably just as well, I don't think Dan would approve."

Methos smiled, and then he reached across the table to take hold of her hand. "Feeling better, now?"

"A little," Andrea sighed. "But I can't get away from the fear."

"Are the police going to do anything?"

"Now that there's been actual violence they were less dismissive than before."

"Less dismissive doesn't sound very promising."

"I know. Dan's going to talk to the investigators his firm uses and see if they learned anything while we were gone." Andrea was quiet for a moment, before adding softly, "I hate being afraid all the time."

Methos squeezed her hand. "I know."

"Thank you for understanding. And for letting me laugh at your love life."

"I'm used to it."

"Being understanding, or having your love life laughed at?"


"I hope Duncan realizes how fortunate he is."

To Methos' horror, he blushed.


"I never learn," Methos said, taking a seat at Joe's bar.

Joe placed a beer in front of him.

"Five thousand years old and I still don't know how to keep my mouth shut."

"What did you say this time?" Joe asked.

"You know that faculty committee I'm on, the one designing the new graduate program?"


"The Dean of Humanities chairs it." Methos paused to take a drink. "We finally finished the plan for the program and before I could stop them the words 'we should celebrate' were out of my mouth."

"So what's the problem?"

"The Dean loved the idea, and she thought I should host it."

"You're hosting a party?"

Methos nodded mournfully. "And Andrea was no help. She kept going on about how my roommate makes great hors d'oeuvres."

"Duncan does make good hors d'oeuvres."

Methos screwed up his face.

"Maybe it'd help if you thought of it as a coming out party."

"Yeah, that helps a lot. Thanks, Joe."

"Anytime." Joe grinned, but only for a moment. "Listen, Methos, I'm sorry about the other night."

Methos took a long drink. "Don't worry about it. I wasn't at my best either."

"So we're good?"

"We're good."

"This thing with Mac, it really makes you happy?"

"It does."

Joe shook his head.

"Is it that hard to believe?"

"You're just so different."

"I thought it was our similarities that were the problem."

"There is that."

"I'm not what most people would think of as Duncan's type."

"No, but I think you're probably good for him."

"How so?"

"You know what the last few years have been like. If there's anyone who can understand, it's probably you."

Methos nodded and took another drink of his beer.

"You gonna tell Duncan he has to make hors d'oeuvres?"

"I think I'll wait for just the right moment."

"When is this shindig?"

"Three weeks."

"Not much time to find the right moment."

"You sure you're Mac's Watcher?" To Methos' surprise, Joe flushed. He changed the subject. "You heard anything from Jane and Kevin?"

"Not a word. You?"

"Nope." Which was, Methos supposed, technically true.

"I expected you to disappear again." Joe was watching him steadily. "Mac's the reason you didn't, isn't he?"

Methos picked at the edges of the label on his beer bottle. "Yeah."

"You got a plan in case they come back?"

"Not really."

Joe shook his head, but before he could say anything Methos turned his face expectantly toward the door. Duncan entered a moment later.

Methos smiled. "How was your class?"

Duncan took the stool next to Methos. "I enjoyed it; five seven-year-olds."

"What are you teaching seven-year-olds?" Joe asked.

"Karate. It's a class at the community center. I went down to make that donation and ended up volunteering."

"As though you didn't get enough of children over the weekend," Methos said.

"That's right. How was Christine's visit?" Joe asked.

"It was fun," Methos replied.

"I discovered Methos is really a seventh-grade girl," Duncan said.

"What did they do?"

"Stayed up half the night laughing and talking."

"You could have joined us," Methos said.

"Nah, you needed some girl time."

"Staying up talking isn't exclusively a female activity," Joe pointed out.

"Thanks, Joe," Methos said.

"It is when you're playing Mystery Date."

"We were not playing Mystery Date," Methos protested. "Christine won't play with me anymore, something about me always winning. By the way, Andrea and Dan have to go to dinner with one of Dan's clients Wednesday night, and I volunteered us to stay with Christine."

"They're still worried?"

"Someone killed Christine's cat while they were gone."

"Poor kid," Joe said. "What did the police say?"

"Andrea says they're a little more concerned now that there's been violence."

Joe snorted.

"What about the detective agency?" Duncan asked. "Have they found out anything?"

"I don't know. Dan was going to talk with them today. Andrea said she'll let us know."

"I hate this," Duncan muttered.

"Yup," Methos answered.