author: Lucinda

contains nudity, sexual situations, and mentioned violence.

main characters: Darla, Connor MacCleod

disclaimer: I do not own Darla or anyone else from Buffy/Angel, and I do not own Connor or anyone else from the Highlander movie.

Notes: set after Darla has been revamped (s2 AtS) but without the pregnancy storyline – S2 BtVS – Vampires can't have children. Twisting's FfA pairing #911.

Connor rested, tangled in the soft sheets of the large bed in his hotel room. He'd been drinking a bit of that horrible modern beer, and had left the bar only to encounter Darla Whitmore, a woman that he'd met three centuries ago. A woman that not only didn't look a day older, but didn't feel like an Immortal.

Things had actually been quite similar to those old times. They'd no sooner closed the door to his hotel room than her lips had been on his, kissing him until he was nearly breathless. Impatient hands had helped each other out of their clothing, and they hadn't even managed to get to the bed before their bodies were entangled in the most intimate of fashions.

The bed had been used later, and quite thoroughly.

"Darla…" He brushed his hand over her shoulder, touching soft smooth skin. "How is it that you don't look older?"

She rolled over, eyes twinkling as she pinned his hands down. Her tongue flicked over her red lips, and she moved to straddle his body again. "I thought that you said I was still a bonny lass?"

"Bonny and passionate. But Scotland was a long time ago for both of us. I know how I'm still here, but… You aren't the same as I am." Connor let his eyes run over her body, part of him wondering if he could manage if she wanted to put talking of for a while longer.

She kissed him, nipping lightly at his lips as she pulled away. "I'm older than I look."

"Considering that you look as if America's laws would have you showing a card before you could have even that pitiful modern beer, I'll not argue with that." He tried to reach up and run his fingers though her hair, but her grip was too secure. But he noticed something else, something very peculiar. "Darla, why aren't you in the mirror?"

"Why aren't I…" Her voice trailed off and she twisted, looking over her shoulder to the mirror on the dresser. "Damn."

The mirror showed the beige walls and the middling acceptable seascape painting on the wall. The rumpled bed covers and naked Connor sprawled on it were partially visible. But of Darla, there was not a single glimpse.

"I'm sure there's an explanation, isn't there?" Connor asked, slipping his arms free while she was distracted. "You don't seem surprised by that at all."

She faced him again, pressing her body close to his as she whispered against his lips, "You don't seem to upset by this."

"Curious more than anything else." He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of her body against his. "Woman, you are temptation."

"No, I'm Darla." She kissed him, nipping at his lips with her sharp teeth. "Ordinarily, I'd say that you'd never believe me if I tried to explain. But considering that, as you said, Scotland was a long time ago…"

His eyes opened, and he looked up at her. "You'd be amazed at some of what I've seen, Darla."

"What about vampires, Connor?" Her fingers trailed over his arms, no longer holding him down. There was something in her eyes, a mix of apprehension and challenge.

"I've spoken to people who tell me that vampires are real. Davis even had a bite mark." Connor paused, and the pieces started to connect in his mind. "Is that what you are? A vampire?"

"Yes." She seemed to tense, as if expecting some sort of rejection or attack. "What are you, Connor McCleod?"

"Immortal. Just a man who will never look older, never get sick, never father children, and happens to be very hard to keep down." He sighed, and half sat up, leaning on one elbow. "It can get damned lonely, especially since an immortal either has to abandon friends or not make any to begin with. People take poorly to things not happening as they expect."

"In Scotland, when we knew each other, there was that riot. They told me that you were dead." She looked as if she wasn't quite certain how to ask what was on her mind.

"I probably was." He shuddered. "I woke up buried in a pauper's grave."

"I can imagine how disturbing that must have been. At least I had a coffin." Darla frowned, and then looked up. "Were you immortal then? If I had stayed, would I have found you again?"

"I was already immortal, but I didn't stick around. Considering that I'd been buried, I thought it unwise." He sighed, and shook his head. "I'm not the only one, far from it. And not all immortals want to be polite. Some would just rather cut off my head and be done with things."

"Cut off your head? Why?" She settled on the bed beside him, her fingers tracing over his muscles.

"As far as I know, it's the only way that an immortal can die the True Death." He sighed, and looked at her. "So, considering that it's unlikely that you're the only vampire in the world, and I don't have the stamina to keep anyone else satisfied and almost peaceful, how would I get rid of an attacking vampire?"

"Fire, beheading, holy water…" Darla leaned forward, placing kissed along his shoulder and up the side of his neck. "Sunlight."

"Which would be why I never saw you outside in the day." Connor tried to focus his thoughts instead of simply enjoying what she was doing to him.

"Enough thinking for now." She nipped beneath his ear, and purred, licking at the trickle of blood. "You still taste so good…"

"Does this mean…" For a few moments, Connor's mind went to a place with many pictures and very few words. "Are we in a relationship then?"

"A relationship…" Darla purred, hands gliding over his body. "Which might mean doing this fairly often?"

"Mmm." Connor couldn't quite manage words, too distracted by what her hands and lips were doing to him.

"Sounds good to me." She whispered.

Connor smiled at this development. Granted, the vampire aspect could be a complication, but she was beautiful, passionate, and she wouldn't get old and die like Heather or Rebecca, or any of the mortal women that he'd dallied with over the centuries. Besides, he was hardly one to demand someone be normal.

Life was certainly going to be a lot more interesting. Less lonely and more exhausting as well. "I could get to like this idea."

"I wanted to keep you around the first time we met. I've spent centuries regretting the fact that you slipped though my fingers." She chuckled. "All this time…"

"And I was already going to be around." He smiled at her.

"I can think of a few ideas for the next several decades." She purred, and kissed him. "I've had a lot of time to think about such things."

End Returning to the Scot.