The following is an ADULT story, set in the universe of Highlander :The Series. It is really more of a Romance, but it does not stop at the bedroom door. If you are under the age of consent, or if you are offended by descriptions of sex and love-making, go no further.

Flood of Passion

by Jette Goldie

Jacqui followed the marked trail around the stalagmites, across the carefully smoothed tourist trail, back to the entrance of the Caverns.

Ahead of her the three men she had noticed earlier were arguing in a friendly fashion.

"You sure you didn't know any of the artists?" the oldest of them was teasing the youngest looking.

"Very funny, Dawson," the younger man replied dryly. His world-weary attitude was at odds with his youthful appearance. "Most of this stuff was before even my time."

The woman smiled to herself at this odd conversation. She was, by nature, a 'People Watcher', observing the interactions of those around her without becoming involved. Repeated attempts to change this had met with failure, the most recent of which had ended only a few weeks ago and was almost directly responsible for this trip.

The third man laughed. "We're teasing you, Methos."

"I know," Methos retorted.

Methos. What an odd name, she mused. It didn't fit with the clear Oxbridge accent or the clean-cut European features, though at second glance there was a certain air of the 'exotic' about his eyes.

She hung back slightly, unwilling to intrude, wanting to listen quietly, to share their friendship by proxy. The three men looked so comfortable in their friendship.

By the time they all reached the ticket office and gift shop by the entrance to the Caverns, the staff had closed up for the evening. Only two cars remained in the car park, hers and the station wagon that obviously belonged to the men. Evening had started to fall and the twilight was thick here in the bottom of the ravine. The three men were headed towards their vehicle and she had no reason to stay.

"Evening," one of the men greeted her in passing as she made her way towards her own car. It was the eldest of them, silver haired and bearded, he walked with a cane. Jacqui blushed and muttered a reply.

Just as she got the key in the lock, the ground beneath her feet trembled.

"Back! Get back!" the tallest man yelled a warning. He raced towards her and pushed her away from the car, away from the overhang of rock that had sheltered her vehicle from the blazing sun when she parked there earlier that afternoon.

Jacqui screamed, stiffening in his hold as he threw her to the ground and covered her body with his own. Just then, with a loud rumble, the rock overhang crashed to earth, smashing both vehicles.

"Are you all right?" the man helped her to her feet.

"I.I think so," she stuttered. She glanced around to see the man Methos lifting the oldest man from the ground. It seemed to be taking a lot of effort. "What about your friend?"

"Joe?" her rescuer addressed the other.

"Fine, MacLeod, fine," Joe brushed rock dust off his clothes. "Nothing damaged that wasn't before." He retrieved his cane and limped over to a bench by the porch of the ticket office.

She stared at her hired car and felt her eyes fill with tears. After everything that had happened to her in the last few months, this felt like the last straw. Almost everything she owned was in the trunk of that car.

"You look a bit shaky," MacLeod. "You should sit down for a bit." He led her to the bench and sat her down next to the older man, who moved along to make room for her.

"Joe Dawson," he introduced himself and nodded to his companions. "Duncan MacLeod and."

"Adam Pierson," the third man interjected. So 'Methos' must be a nickname or something. "I'll be back in a little while," he added. "Just want to check something out." He then set off along the road out of the gorge.

"Jacqueline Selkirk. Jacqui," she replied. She started to offer him her hand but it trembled so much she withdrew it quickly.

"You're British?" Dawson queried. "On vacation?"

She began to shake her head, then grimaced and blurted out. "It should have been my honeymoon," she explained.

He gave her a sympathetic look. "But you're alone. What happened? Or is that question out of line."

"Nothing. Nothing bad, that is. Yet," she replied wryly. She drew a deep breath and explained. "Three months ago I had a great job, a house and a wedding booked. Then one day I was made redundant and came home early only to find my fiancé in bed with my best friend - the girl who was supposed to be my bridesmaid. Turned out they'd been having an affair for six months."

Dawson winced. "So you lost your job, boyfriend and best friend in one day? That's.well, I was going to say that's too bad - but it sounds a little inadequate."

She nodded again. "And that wasn't the end of it. The house was in joint names, so it had to be sold. When he moved his stuff out, he took our cat, Moggins, which he claimed was his. Produced the receipt from the Cat Adoption society to prove it, even though when he brought the cat home, he said she was a gift for me. Then two days later, Moggins was killed on the road. It seems she was trying to get back to her 'own' home.

"That was the last straw," she went on. "We had already booked our tickets to the USA for our honeymoon. I cashed his in, turned mine into an open-ended return, and sold everything I could. Everything else I owned was in the luggage in the boot of that car."

"You're insured, of course," he asked.

She nodded. "But it will take days to get it straightened out, and some things just can't be replaced."

"Of course," he agreed. He patted her hand comfortingly. "You'll manage. From the sound of it, you're the kind who does."

She laughed, choking, her laughter turning to tears. "Thirty-nine years old, that rat was my first and only serious relationship, and instead of putting my redundancy payment to some useful purpose, I blow everything on a holiday: and you think I'm the 'kind that manages'?"

He nodded. "You were making a fresh start, weren't you?"

She nodded eagerly. "A completely fresh start. I.I don't know why I'm telling you this; I was never very good with people. I can't talk to strangers and I freeze up around men."

"I'm a good listener," he told her. "Goes with the job - I own a bar."

"I don't go to bars. I don't go out much at all. I didn't even talk to anyone at work. I was good at my job; but I'd worked for the company for a long time and practically created the post I was in. I only had to cope with the files and the computers. I don't know how I'm going to cope with going for interviews."

"Yet you flew thousands of miles alone and you're travelling around the USA all by yourself; that takes a lot of courage."

She shook her head. "I don't think so. It's just a different kind of cowardice."

MacLeod reappeared from inside the grotto entrance, two cans of soda in his hand.

"Here, you should drink this," he handed one of the cans to her and offered the other to Dawson.

"Thank you. Urgh! It's warm."

"But it's liquid and sweet," he told her. "You need that; you're in shock. You too, Joseph."

"You're so considerate of my health, MacLeod," Dawson quipped. "I'll pass." He jerked his head towards the inside of the building. "Where's the tour guide?"

The other man gave a tiny shake of his head. "Storeroom," he said.

With night falling fast in the ravine, the air began to cool. Jacqui was grateful for the sweater she had brought with her. It had been cool in the caverns even when it was sweltering outside; but when she had come back outside she had slipped it into her shoulder bag. Now she draped it around her shoulders and shivered slightly.

The third man, Adam Pierson, returned from his explorations. He looked grim.

"What's up?" asked MacLeod.

Pierson frowned. "You want the bad news or the worse news?" he asked.

"Start with the bad and let everything go downhill from there," Joe Dawson retorted.

"The road is gone," the younger man replied.

"Gone? Blocked?" queried MacLeod.

The other shook his head. "Gone," he repeated. He made a 'dropping' gesture with both hands. "A large section of both lanes are missing. About fifty feet of roadway is lying at the bottom of the ravine."

Dawson winced. "And the 'worse'?" he asked.

"You remember that dam we saw on the way down? The one that holds back the reservoir that is currently swollen with last month's rain? It's cracked."

"How bad?" demanded MacLeod.

"Bad. It's leaking hundreds of gallons per minute, I estimate. Plus the dam could go at any time. Another tremor like the last and it will go; and there's only one place for all that water to go - back to its original outlet, since man has so kindly blocked off all its other outlets. This ravine and those caves."

"How much water?" asked MacLeod.

"You saw the size of the lake," replied his friend. "Twice the size of this gorge. Once the water levels stabilise I'd say it will be up to about.there," he indicated a point on the ravine wall some fifty feet up, "but that isn't the main problem. The problem is that when the dam goes, it may very well go all at once."

"Flash flood," realised Dawson.

Pierson nodded.

"That's bad, isn't it?" Jacqui ventured.

Dawson nodded. "Very bad, for us. This is a blind gorge - only one way out unless you can fly."

"Can't we call the emergency services? The police or ambulance or someone? Won't they be able to bring in a helicopter?"

"Phone's out thanks to the quake," MacLeod told her.

"And my cell phone was in the car," Dawson indicated the mangled wreckage under the fallen rocks.

"So what do we do? We can't just sit here!"

MacLeod shrugged. "Ever done any mountaineering?" he asked, looking up at the cliff. Jacqui shook her head.

"Not for a long time," Pierson replied. He looked speculatively at the cliff. "We should get a move on if we're going to do it, though. I've a feeling that the last little tremor wasn't the last."

Dawson looked up at rock face and shook his head sadly. "It won't work, MacLeod. I don't think you could carry me up a cliff face. You should get Ms Selkirk out though, if you can."

Jacqui stared at him. "You're just giving up?" she demanded. "You can't!"

He shook his head again and tapped at his lower legs with the cane. There was a hollow 'clunking' sound.

"These get me around just fine on the flat, Jacqui honey, but they don't climb mountains."

"But.but." she protested. She frowned as she tried to assimilate this information. She liked this man. She could talk to him in a way she had never talked to any man before. In the short time they had sat here chatting she had exchanged more information with him than she had with Ben in two months.

"We're not leaving you, Joseph." MacLeod informed him.

Joe laughed harshly. "Mac, you and Methos, you don't have to worry. Whatever happens, you'll be ok." This odd comment drew him some strange, almost warning, glances from his friends, but he continued, "Jacqui here, she doesn't have your advantages and she's led a sheltered life. It's gonna be hard enough for you to get her out, without worrying about me."

She made up her mind. "I'm not going without you, Joe," she declared. "I don't care if it slows us down. We either all try, or I don't go. I don't have any reason to go otherwise."

There were ropes and other climbing equipment in the cavern offices, used for exploring the caves before opening up new sections to the public. MacLeod fetched all he could find outside.

"And I found this," he held up a tangle of nylon webbing straps and buckles.

"Safety harness," said Pierson. "Only the one?"

"You and I don't need it," the tall man said, with an odd glance at his young friend. "Joe and Ms Selkirk do."

"One at a time then," Dawson murmured. "Ladies first."

Pierson frowned. He had just returned from another check on the situation at the dam. By now the run off was starting to form a stream that meandered down the centre of the ravine towards the caves.

"No time," stated MacLeod. He was fiddling with the adjustable straps of the harness. He placed it on the ground and ordered, "Joe, step into that."

Joe rocked himself forward on the bench and stood up. He stepped into the loops of webbing.

"Now you, Ms Selkirk. Facing forward with your back to him."

She frowned in puzzlement but did as she was ordered. MacLeod lifted the loops up towards their hips.

"Won't work, MacLeod. She's not tall enough," Pierson pointed out. It was true; Jacqui was a head shorter than the man and there was a difference of a few inches between their hip heights.

"Only on the ground," replied MacLeod.

"Stand on my feet, honey," suggested Dawson. "You won't hurt me any - and I think I know what Mac has in mind."

She stepped onto the top of his feet and he braced himself with the cane, holding her close to his body. MacLeod tightened the straps around their loins and across their chests.

"Even combined, your weight is under the safety margins for these straps and the ropes have a breaking strain well in excess of what we need," said MacLeod, snapping a *caribiner to the D-ring on the front of the harness. "You, Ms Selkirk, will act as Joe's 'legs', fending both of you off the cliff face and 'walking' up it, leaving Joe's hands free to hold onto the rope that Adam and I will be using to draw you both up."

It was impossible for Joe and Jacqui to move normally in the harness, so they left it off until they were in position at the point of the ravine wall that MacLeod had chosen for their climb.

"This is actually quite an easy climb. We have several ledges that are large enough for us to rest on," MacLeod was explaining. "Adam and I will go first to get the pitons in place. Once we reach that first ledge," he pointed to a ledge about twenty feet above them, "we'll draw you up that far. Then we'll go on to the next."

Dawson eyed the ledge. "How long will it take you to reach the ledge? You realise that we're going to have to stand around here in 'bondage' until you are ready to draw us up?"

MacLeod shrugged. "I know, sorry about that. I would say to keep the harness off until we're ready, but I want to be sure the buckles and straps are properly fastened. We'll try to be as fast as we can."

After the two men started to climb, Joe and Jacqui were left alone in the darkness. Before he left, Pierson had found a small rock for her to stand on, which made things more comfortable, and the combination more stable. They stood facing the cliff, the rock wall only a foot from her face; ready to begin the climb when the signal came.

Despite the awkwardness and the slight discomfort of their position, she began to realise that she actually found this somewhat pleasant. Joe stood with his right hand braced on his cane, his left arm around her.

His embrace was solid and comforting and she was aware of the strength in his arms. Their bodies were fitted together, spoon fashion, his breath was warm on her neck. If she leant her head back, she could just rest it on his shoulder; and his beard brushed gently upon her cheek when she did.

It was disturbingly erotic.

"You all right, honey?" in her ear, Joe's voice was soft and sent a thrill through her. She blushed in the darkness.

"Fine, fine," she assured him. "I can just see Mr MacLeod - looks like he's just reached the ledge."

They could hear the 'chink' of the metal on stone as MacLeod hammered pitons into the rock and fixed rings to them. Shortly after that the rope attached to their harness went taut.

"Ready?" asked Joe. She nodded and he took firm hold of the rope with his left hand and, passing his cane to her from his right, before grabbing on with both hands.

She slipped the loop of leather that MacLeod had tied to the handle of the cane over her wrist. Joe would need it when they reached the top and she had to keep it safe for him.

They began to climb. Joe hauled up in the rope and she braced her feet against the cliff and began to 'walk' upwards. Foot by foot they inched their way upwards towards the ledge where Pierson was waiting to help them up.

"We've fixed some handholds for you," he told them, guiding Joe's hands to the loops of rope attached to pitons. As soon as they were both holding tight to the loops, he left them and began to climb.

The ledge was barely wide enough for the pair of them. Jacqui had to put her feet back on top of Joe's to stand comfortably and her face was pressed to the cliff. All she could see was stone and darkness. In the end she closed her eyes and waited.

Once again she became aware of the close contact of their bodies and the warmth of his arms around her, the soft movement of his breathing against her back, the warmth of his breath on her neck: the hardness of his erection against her buttocks.

Her own groin began to tingle in a familiar way. Her imagination began to race. Heaven help her but here, in the darkness, all she could think of was how she wanted him. Wanted him within her, his arms around her for more than support. She blushed furiously, glad that her face was hidden from him.

The wait for the next signal was interminable, giving her far too much time to dwell on this thought. Did he desire her too, or was it just an automatic reaction to danger and body contact? Was that all it was for her too? At last the slack in the rope was taken up and they let go of the handholds and began to climb again.

The next stage was longer and unfortunately gave her too much time to realise how their bodies ground together at every step. All she could see was the cliff face in front of her, it was too difficult to look up to see the route ahead.

At last they reached the overhang that signalled the next ledge and Pierson was there, reaching out to help them up.

This ledge was wider but instead of hauling them to their feet, the younger man helped them to turn around so that Dawson 'sat' on the edge with her on his lap. Then he helped the other man to drag himself back against the cliff side. He clipped their safety rope to a ring just above their heads.

"We're above what will be the level of the water here," he told them, "but the first surge of the flood could go much higher. MacLeod wants to try to reach the top and he's gone on ahead. It's a long stretch without any breaks, so I thought you'd appreciate being able to sit."

"Thanks," Joe retorted dryly. Pierson grinned at him.

"You have a pretty lady on your lap, Dawson, and you get a chance to rest - what more could you want?" He began to unclip his own safety line, ready to start climbing again.

At that moment the earth trembled again. Dust, pebbles and smaller rocks rained down on them and Jacqui screamed briefly. Joe gripped her tightly and hung on to the rope while Pierson hugged the rock wall.

"MacLeod!" he yelled upwards into the darkness. "No time now! Hold on!"

As he said this, a sullen rumble sounded from the far end of the ravine. Staring into the blackness towards the sound they could see something. A wall of white bearing down on them.

"Hold on!" repeated Pierson, quickly re-attaching his safety line and sitting down beside them. He clung tightly to the rope, bracing himself against the back of the ledge.

Jacqui drew a breath to scream again, then decided to hold it instead. Suddenly the water was upon them, buffeting them, dragging at them, trying to pull them from their precarious perch. She clung desperately to her anchor and he to her. There was nothing but the sound, the cold, the fierce pull of the flood and the human warmth of Joe's arms. Then it was gone and she clung still. She was soaked, frozen and breathless.

Pierson edged his way to the lip and stared down at the water below.

"Are you two all right?" he asked.

Jacqui sobbed, Joe nodded.

"I guess that's the worst over," he stated. "Now we just have to get off this ledge."

Pierson nodded. "Now that the immediate danger is over, we could just wait for the rescue squads to arrive."

"And freeze our butts off in the process," agreed Dawson. "No, we started, we might as well finish - unless Mac thinks otherwise." He called up into the night, "Mac?"

There was no answer.

"MacLeod?" Pierson tried. Still no answer. He tugged on the rope leading upwards.

There was a snapping sound and the rope came free in his hand.

Jacqui screamed. Joe held her close and tried to shush her.

"It's OK, Jacqui honey. It's ok. It's ok." He and Pierson exchanged enigmatic glances.

"He.he must have been swept away," she sobbed. Dawson drew her head back on his shoulder and stroked brow, while he pressed his lips against her cheek.

"Mac will be ok," assured her.

Pierson was examining the rope. Its end was unbroken, it was still attached to the ring and to the piton.

"The quake must have loosened the rock around the piton enough that it came out when the flood dragged at him," he pronounced. "I had better check every one before risking them." He seemed unperturbed at his friend's fate.

She was amazed at his coolness. "You're just going to go on?" she demanded.

He crouched beside her. "I have to. I have to get you and Joe to safety. I can do nothing for MacLeod now," he explained

"Mac is hard to kill anyway," Joe repeated. Again Pierson shot him a warning glance but then he nodded reassuringly to her.

"I'll have to get you both to your feet now," he told them. "I'll go on ahead and secure the ropes. Once I'm at the top, I'll give you the signal and you can start making your way up."

The rest of the climb was almost uneventful, though Jacqui wept silently all the way. Soon enough Pierson was holding out a hand, helping Jacqui and Joe to scramble over the lip of the ravine to safety. He helped the pair step safely away from the edge, then supported Joe while she shed the harness. Jacqui then handed Joe his cane.

The highway ran a few metres away, heading west to the nearest town.

"What do we do now?" Jacqui demanded. She was answered by the growl of motor engines and the glare of headlights out of the gloom as a pair police cars appeared. Overhead they could hear the thrum of a helicopter's rotors.

The cars drew level with them and halted, the helicopter hovered overhead. Two police officers stepped out of the first car and approached the exhausted threesome.

The news that they were the survivors of this natural disaster was greeted with incredulous amazement. The helicopter overhead dipped lower, revealing that it was crewed by the news team of a local TV station. Camera lights suddenly blazed in the pre-dawn darkness.

Jacqui shied from the glare of the lights and Joe hid her face against his chest. Pierson scowled and ducked from the camera, placing Dawson between himself and the news crew.

Dawson faced the senior officer squarely. "We could do without the publicity," he informed the man.

"Right," the cop agreed. "Get in the car and we'll get you out of here. Anyone else with you?"

"No. No one," Pierson made that clear. Dawson nodded agreement. Jacqui frowned in puzzlement.

"But.Mac." she began, only to shut up as Dawson gripped her shoulder tightly in warning.

"We were the only ones there when it happened," repeated Pierson. "And the tour guide; but he died in the first earthquake.

"Oh yeah, Tom Mackenzie," the officer nodded. "Well, get in and we'll take the three of you to the hotel."

The police dropped them at the Painted Cavern Hotel, where the manager found them three rooms and some dry clothes in their approximate sizes. He also produced a hot meal, several large pots of coffee and a bottle of Scotch.

Caffeine not withstanding, Jacqui was almost dead on her feet when she allowed herself to be led to her room. Dawson walked her to the door and took her hand in his when they arrived.

"Jacqui.honey," he began. "We.it's been a long night. A long night and a difficult one, for both of us."

She nodded. "I'm sorry about your friend, Joe. Why didn't you tell the police about him?"

He smiled. "Don't you worry about MacLeod. He'll be fine."

"You seem so sure - you and Mr Pierson. Why don't you want the police to help look for him?"

He shook his head. "I can't explain. Let's just say that MacLeod wouldn't appreciate it."

She frowned. "Is he wanted by the police or something?"

He smiled again and shook his head. "He's just a very private man, Jacqui."

Throughout this entire conversation their hands had remained linked. Jacqui was acutely aware of the gentle strength, the calluses on his finger tips, the heat of his body so close to hers. She longed to reach up and kiss him, longed for him to kiss her. Longed to bury herself in the warmth of his arms. Shyly she gazed up at him and their eyes locked.

He drew her hand to his lips and pressed it there in a kiss. Jacqui blushed and let it remain there for a moment before gently brushing her fingertips across his bearded cheek. The hair felt so soft to touch, yet rough. Joe smiled down at her, as shyly as she smiled up at him.

They moved together without a word, lips meeting hungrily. Jacqui had never felt such passion; not even for Ben, the man she had been ready to marry just a few short weeks ago. Tired, exhausted as she was, she felt she wanted nothing more than to live forever in this kiss. She let herself sink into his arms.

Joe groaned and drew back, placing her at arms' length. "Oh, Jacqui honey," he sighed. "I think we both need some sleep before we go any further."

Suddenly Jacqui realised just how crazy this seemed. She had known this man a little over twelve hours, knew only his name and that he owned a bar. She stepped back, her hand upon the doorknob behind her.

"Yes, yes, I'd like to sleep on it," she agreed quickly. "Good night, Joe. Good night."

Standing there before her, his face fell.

"Good night, Jacqui." He turned quickly and walked off down the corridor to his own room.

Jacqui tossed and turned in a restless sleep. Her dreams were filled with feverish imagery. Memories of Joe's arms around her, the feel of the kiss they shared, the look of hurt and disappointment on his face when she drew back; Ben and Geraldine naked in her bed, laughing at her timidity; the maths teacher at school who made her life a misery. Joe again, listening to her revelations with sympathy, assuring her she was 'the kind who managed'.

She woke sobbing. How could she have let her cowardice hurt him so? So what that she knew next to nothing about him? Just for once in her life she should have gone with her feelings and said hang the consequences.

Dammit! She would go to him. She would apologise for her fears and ask if he still wanted her.

She rose and dressed quickly in the sweater and leggings that the manager's wife had provided her with. She had no cosmetics, no glamorous clothing, no tricks to make herself desirable. He either wanted her or he didn't - and if he didn't, who could blame him?

"Mr Dawson and Mr Pierson? They checked out an hour ago. Mr Pierson had a hired car delivered and the two of them left before the TV crew could talk to them. Sheriff's been keeping them away all day; do you want to talk to them?"

"I.I'd really rather not. Is there anyway I can avoid them?"

The receptionist smiled. "Don't worry. The Sheriff won't let them near you if you don't want to speak to them. You want to check out?"

"My credit card was destroyed along with my car. I have no transport"

"Your friend Mr Pierson took care of that. Your bill is paid, there's a car already outside for you and he left you this envelope."

The building was a blank industrial style box. A neon sign outside the door was the only signal that it was anything other than a warehouse or factory workshop. Jacqui climbed the short flight of steps and pushed tentatively at the double swing doors.

The inside was dim and its décor followed the same industrial theme as its exterior. Exposed pipes and rails, bare walls, spot lighting on visible tracks. It didn't look very prepossessing; nor did it seem the sort of place for lady.

It was quiet in the mid-afternoon lull. The barman polished glasses behind the counter and a solitary drinker stood at the bar, beer in hand.

Jacqui gripped her hand-written list tightly and took firm hold of her courage.

"Excuse me," she began, her voice tailing away.

The barman smiled. "What can I get you, Ms?"

"Uh, White Russian?" That was the only drink she knew, it having been suggested by the barman in the first bar she had visited on her quest.

"Don't do many of those here," he smiled, "but I think I know how." He placed the milk-based drink in front of her.

Jacqui took a long gulp of her drink and asked her question.

"I'm.I'm looking for a man; a bar owner. His name is Joe Dawson."

The man gave her a curious look. "Hold on a second." He stepped around the bar and through a door marked 'Private'.

A moment later he returned, followed by another man.

"Joe!"

"Jacqui?" he exclaimed, eyes wide in surprise. He stepped forward to greet her, then thought better of it and gestured for her to join him in the office.

Once the door was closed, he leaned against it and studied her. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

She shrugged. "I knew your name and that you owned a bar. I saw you write 'Seacouver' in the hotel register. I came here, got out the 'phone book and started walking. This is fifth bar I've been in today - somehow a bar called 'Joe's' owned by a man called Joe seemed just too easy," she finished.

He shook his head in amazement. "There must be thousands of bars in this city. Were you going to try every one?"

"If that was what it took," she replied. "I had to know, Joe. I had to ask.if you want me to go away, I will, but I need to know. was it just the situation, or was it actually me you wanted?"

He blinked, smiling. "Oh, Jacqui," he breathed. He stepped towards her and took her hand. "It was you. I first noticed you in the caverns and I wanted to find an excuse to speak to you. I even slowed my pace so that you would catch up with us; but you just slowed down too.

"Then, after the quake, when we did speak, you were so lovely. Vulnerable, yet brave..."

"Brave?" she echoed.

"Brave," he confirmed. "With what you had gone through, you had every right to fall apart - yet you didn't. You picked yourself up and made a fresh start. You cried a little, sure, but you're entitled to that. You didn't even get hysterical when the world fell apart again."

"I was terrified," she informed him.

"So was I," he replied. "I didn't see any way out of there for me, except if Mac and Adam carried me, and I don't like to feel helpless."

"You're not helpless!" she exclaimed. "That was what I noticed about you - you're so strong! Your arms, your shoulders, your hands."

He laughed, frowning slightly. "I've had to do things with my upper body that most men do with their legs. I suppose I have compensated."

"Strong," she repeated, letting her free hand wander over his biceps, shoulders and up to stroke his cheek.

"Oh Jacqui," he sighed, pulling her towards him.

The kiss was intense, taking up where their previous one left off. His feelings were patently obvious to her, pressed against him as she was, and she responded in kind. He kissed her lips, her jawline, her neck, caressed her breasts through the thin material of her summer dress, feeling the nipples rise to his touch. She shivered in delight and reached down to cup his groin.

He drew back and caught her hand. "No," he told her. "Not here and not so fast. I don't want our first time to be a rushed affair in the back office of the bar."

"Then let's get out of here," she told him. "I want you, Joe, and I'm afraid my courage will desert me again. I've let cowardice rule my life way too long. I was cautious, careful and timid. Caution kept me with Ben, even though I knew he was wrong for me. I was afraid to be alone; but in the end I was alone.

"I was afraid to take chances, afraid of what might happen; but then the worst did happen and I survived. I was afraid to talk to strangers, but I've learned that while talking to strangers is still difficult, the alternative is never to talk to anyone - and talking to strangers can lead to interesting conversations and new friendships can result.

"I met you - and then I let cowardice over rule my instincts. I hurt you because of it and I might have lost you completely. I don't want to lose you again. Take me away now and take me - before I let fear destroy me again."

Joe led her by the hand into the bedroom. The afternoon sun streamed through the curtains and pooled on the bed. "Will I shut them?" he asked, referring to the curtains.

She shook her head. "No. I like the light. I want to see what we're doing."

He nodded and drew her over to the bed itself, seating themselves on its edge.. They kissed again and he slid his hands gently down her neck, over her shoulder and down her arms, drawing the straps of her dress down to bare her shoulders for his further kisses. She responded by throwing back her head to allow him access to the hollow of her throat.

Button by button he undid the fastenings down the front of the dress, till she was laid bare. All she wore beneath it was tiny cotton panties, which by now were damp at the crotch.

"Oh, Jacqui," he sighed. He fumbled with the fastenings of his own shirt.

"Let me," she said.

He let her unbutton the shirt and slide it from his body. She then started on the fastenings of his trousers. First the buckle of his belt, then the button of the waistband, then the zip. She slid the zipper down and saw the straining of his erection against the lighter fabric of his underwear. A kiss to the tip of his manhood through the fabric caused the organ to quiver in anticipation.

"Wait," he told her. "I have to do this myself."

He slid the trousers down, unfastening the supports of his prosthetics and leaving the artificial legs inside the legs of the trousers. Almost shyly he bared his thighs to her view, still clad in the cotton boxer shorts.

Tentatively Jacqui stroked the scars and calluses on his stumps. "Do you mind me doing this?" she enquired. "I won't if you don't want me to."

He grimaced. "It's me, Jacqui honey. I've learned to accept what I am."

She nodded. "A man isn't just legs, Joe. Ben had two good ones and he wasn't half the man you are." She bent to kiss the tip of his penis again through the shorts.

He hardened again at the touch and let her slide them down to reveal his erection fully. Jacqui smiled to see the proof of his interest and kissed it again. Then she gently encircled the head with her lips and drew the length into her mouth. He shuddered beneath her and tangled his fingers in her hair. Gently he guided her rhythm as she slid up and down on its length, licking and sucking lovingly.

At last he groaned and pulled her off him.

"Not yet," he told her. "Come here."

Jacqui grinned and slid up his torso to kiss him on the mouth.

"My turn," he suggested, lying her back on the bed.

She still wore her panties and they were damper than ever by now. He slid a finger inside the elastic at the leg and gently stroked her clitoris. She sighed and squirmed at the touch. Without removing them, he slid the fabric aside from her crotch and licked the tiny nub.

"Ooooh!" she exclaimed. It was his turn to grin. He licked again and let his tongue slide inside the hollow of her vagina.

Jacqui shuddered and bucked beneath him. "Not.enough." she gasped.

He laughed and replaced his tongue with two fingers, moving them in and out with a gentle rhythm while he continued to lick gently at the protuberance of her clit. She began to undulate her hips with the same rhythm, gradually building up speed and encouraging him to match her. Suddenly she shuddered and bucked beneath him, crying out.

He took a last lick at the juices flowing there and drew himself up to face her. She kissed him hard, licking at the dampness still clinging to his beard.

"I wanted you inside me," she complained.

"And I want to be inside you," he told her. "But I want this to last." He kissed her again and guided her hand to his cock. "See? I'm still ready for you, and when you're ready again, I'll be there."

"I'm ready," she told him.

He shook his head. "Let me be the judge of that," he grinned. He lay alongside her and drew her close, stroking her breasts with feathery touches, lightly swirling his fingers around the nipples until they stood erect. Then he spiralled outwards with his fingertips, drawing lazy curves on her breasts and belly. She sighed contentedly, happy to let him continue.

His right hand explored the curve of her waist and settled on her hips. He tugged gently at the panties, sliding them down so that he could investigate the shadowy line of hair that wandered from her navel downwards. At last he lay back against the pillows and said, "Take them off." She did and he drew her astride him, trapping his own erection between their joined bodies.

He held her there, refusing to let her enfold him yet, and drew her down to kiss her mouth. From there, his lips wandered along the curve of her jaw to nuzzle her earlobe and further down her neck to the vulnerable hollow of her throat again. He had noted already how sensitive that was.

She arched towards him and sighed. Now he continued downwards again, trapping a nipple between his lips, gently mouthing it, not biting, and suckled. Then he shifted his attention to the other nipple.

Of her own accord she began to slide up and down against his member, coating it with her own slick moisture. Her hands were braced against his chest and she could feel the hammering of his heartbeat as it began to race.

Now he paused and gripped her hips. He lifted her slightly and adjusted her position so that she was poised above his cock. Then, slowly, he allowed her to settle down upon him, drawing him deep within her.

Still suckling eagerly on the nipple, he began to thrust. She reached out for support and he caught her hands in his. Fingers linked, she pushed back against his up-thrust hands and began to rock herself forward and back in time with his movements. Slowly their momentum built and she arched her back, her motion becoming more up and down, her speed increasing. Soon she was grinding herself down, driving him as deeply into herself as she could manage.

His breath was coming in tight gasps and his control was slipping. Her own breathing speeded up and she whimpered at each stroke, driving harder and faster in time with his rhythm.

Suddenly she gasped, gulping in air and holding it as she drove her self down one last time with more force than before. Her whole body quivered, a spasm passing in waves through her every muscle. Joe yelled, thrusting up to meet her as her orgasm initiated his.

Afterwards they lay together, Jacqui's head on Joe's shoulder, his arms around her.

"So what happens now?" she asked.

Joe kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair as he replied. "That's up to you, honey," he replied. "How soon do you have to go back to Britain?"

"I can stay for 90 days without a visa. I have 79 days left."

"A little over two and a half months," he calculated. "How much more sightseeing do you plan to do?"

"I have no plans, Joe. No reason to hurry back, nowhere I need to go, no one I have to see."

"So.so you'll be in town for a while?" he ventured.

She turned to lean on her elbow and gaze into his face as she spoke. "If you want me to," she replied.

"I want you," he informed her with a kiss.

She frowned briefly. "There is one thing I have to do," she told him. "I have to return your friend Adam's loan. My insurance company paid out and my new credit card came through. I also have to thank him for his advice."

"His advice?" he echoed.

"Um hmm," she confirmed. "When he paid my hotel bill, he left me an envelope. A thousand dollars and a note. The note was only a few words - 'Trust your feelings'. Without that, I would never have had the courage to come looking for you." Then she laughed, remembering, "Oh, yes, and there was one other thing. A matchbook from your bar. I should have realised that it was a clue to finding you."

He laughed. "Well, I know where he will be this evening," he told her.

The bar was quietly crowded; the band played on the tiny stage. Jacqui perched on a stool by the bar and nursed her White Russian while Joe played a set with the band. As she had told him when they first spoke, she was not a frequent visitor to bars or pubs and felt a little nervous, but the barman kept a close eye on her and quietly discouraged anyone who seemed to be bothering her.

Towards the end of the number, the swing doors opened and Adam Pierson slouched in. He scanned the room and noted her presence. He smiled a secretive smile and joined her.

"Ms Selkirk," he greeted her. "How are you? Fully recovered from your adventure?"

"Call me Jacqui, Mr Pierson," she replied, smiling. "No, I think my adventure is just beginning. It's called 'life'."

"Adam," he told her. "I'm glad."

"I have to thank you and return your money," she said.

"It wasn't a loan," he told her. "It was a gift; a thank you. MacLeod and I might never have gotten Joe out without your help."

At the mention of MacLeod she suddenly remembered the tall dark-haired man who had planned their escape and had been swept away in the flood.

"I'm sorry about your friend," she murmured. Pierson just grinned.

"Mac is fine," he assured her. He paused, a distant look in his eyes for a moment. "In fact, see for yourself," he finished.

Just as he spoke the outer doors opened again and, indeed, in walked MacLeod. The newcomer waved to Joe on the stage and was answered by a nod and a grin. Joe signalled with his chin towards her at the bar.

"Ms. Selkirk!" he exclaimed. "So nice to see you."

"And you, Mr. MacLeod," she replied, "but I don't understand how. I was talking to the sheriff after Joe and Adam left and he said that anyone who got carried away in the flash flood should have died. We only survived because we were safely anchored - how did you manage?"

"I swam," he answered shortly. That was the end of the conversation, as far as he was concerned. She shrugged. Let him keep his secrets then; so long as those secrets did not endanger her or Joe.

"Will you be in town for a while, Ms. Selkirk?" MacLeod enquired.

"I think so," she replied. "For a while at least."

The End

Read the sequel, The Barman, the Thieves, and the Lover

Back to JoeStories Archive
Report concerns/comments to Archivist

Home | About Raine | Contact

This is a fan site, and all work here is produced without the intention of profit; all characters not my own are the copyright of their respective holders.