Thanks to Toni for the beta! This one gets a multiple
soda warning!

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Dancing With The Devil Part 4
by Christina and Donna

It had been almost twenty four hours since her little
'confrontation' with Caspian on the other side of the
river. Twenty four hours since Riddick had literally
saved her life. Not in the physical way either... she
could have still handled herself that way. But sexual
acts of aggression still affected her sometimes.
Caspian obviously had no problem with initiating acts
of sexual violence. Grace had had enough of those to
last her for her lifetime. That was something about
Riddick that she had been thankful for. He never
pushed himself on her sexually. Oh, he tried to
intimidate her with his size, but that she could
handle.

"A penny for your thoughts," a soft voice interrupted
her ramblings.

Smiling, Grace said, "I don't know that you'd want to
hear them."

Picking up a glass and drying it, Joe gave her a
reassuring smile. "You'd be surprised at what I've
heard. Try me."

Looking up at him, Grace couldn't help but think that
she could talk to him and that he had probably heard a
lot, given his profession. Sighing, she took a drink
of her scotch and said, "I'm a magnet for bad guys.
Not the petty ones, but the true hard core killers,
rapists, you name it. And it just keeps getting
better and better. You know a guy named Caspian?"

Joe leaned in and listened very carefully as Grace
began to recount her initial meeting with the
Horseman.

He listened quietly, nodding in understanding in all
the right spots. "I suppose I would wasting my breath
to tell you that it would be a good idea to stay away
from that side of the river. Any girl who goes over
there is basically asking to get raped. Unfortunate,
but true."

She nodded. "Sadly, I have to go over there. My
charge is there and I have to keep an eye on him. I
got stupid and careless. I'm 900 years old, you'd
think I'd learn by now *not* to leave my home without
ammunition. I was tired, drained mentally, and got
careless." After another pull on her drink, she said,
"It won't happen again." She patted her side where
she carried her knife and her gun. "I was just lucky
that Riddick decided to play savior. Life... it just
gets better and better."

Joe chuckled and smiled as he refilled her drink.
"That it does, dear lady, that is does." Just as she
sat upright, feeling the strong buzz of another of her
kind, the door to the bar jingled as someone walked
in. "Hey Mac!" Joe called out. "How's it going?"

Duncan MacLeod walked up to the bar, glancing at Grace
and then doing a double take. "Well, well, lookie who
is here," he said. "Welcome to SIM Valley. Do you
remember me? I'm the guy you copped a runner on."
Behind the bar, Joe chuckled, earning a dirty look
from the Highlander. "I'm sure you read all about it
in my chronicles, Dawson, so just keep your chuckles
to yourself and give me a drink."

Grace stared down at her drink. Did she remember that
night? Oh she remembered it well, and his signature
was one she'd never forget either. Deciding she no
longer wanted to nurse her drink, she downed it in one
gulp and pointed to her glass. Ok, she could face him
now. "Of course I remember you. It was what... about
200 years ago. I seemed to remember mentioning that I
was in a hurry, but you decided you wanted to get to
know me better anyway. How could I forget Duncan
MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod." To Joe, she said,
"Another please."

Joe raised an eyebrow and poured another, then stepped
back to watch the interplay between the two immortals.
MacLeod had taken the stool beside her, his body
turned so that he was facing her. "I'm glad you
remember me," he said in a deep purr that immediately
seemed to raise the temperature in the room several
degrees. "I have a nice flat above my shop, Blades and
Bodices, and I would be more than happy to renew
acquaintances with you."

Turning her head to the side, she raised an eyebrow at
him and then laughed. "Just as persistant as ever,
aren't you? And here I was working on a good drunk."
It had been a long time since a man with scruples had
even given her a second look. It gave her an
unexpected thrill. "And if I said I was in a hurry...
had bad guys to return to justice... lives to save...
the world to rule... What would you say to that?"
The entire question was asked with a demure smile on
her face, the words spoken so softly they were barely
above a whisper.

"I would say they can wait till tomorrow morning," he
said, leaning forward, his breath hot on her neck.
"And that I would willingly tag along to help you
right all the wrongs in the world." Behind the
counter, Joe snorted in amusement, earning him dirty
looks from both of them that time.

Raising her glass, Grace said, "The bad guys will
always be there tomorrow and the day after that and
that and that. Sometimes, they even try to tell you
they aren't bad guys anymore. But I digress." This
time, she sipped her drink before continuing, "And
sometimes, they don't wait until tomorrow." She
closed the distance between them and softly said, "And
that's what happened two centuries ago. I swear it."

Duncan MacLeod shrugged, his mouth twitching with
amusement. "I understand. Been there myself a few
times. But this is a place to start afresh." Taking
her hand in his, he tenderly kissed it, his breath hot
on her skin. "My name is Duncan MacLeod of the Clan
MacLeod, fair lady. And I assure you my intentions are
anything but honorable towards you." He glanced up,
his expressive eyes dancing with mischief.

She let her body relax and gave him a smile. "Grace
Hammond," she said. She covered his hand with her
other one. How long had it been? At least since her
last lover had been killed. Killed by Riddick of
course. Quickly, she pushed that thought away. "I
believe that honorable intentions are just what the
doctor ordered."

MacLeod chuckled, running his fingers along her leg.
Behind the bar, Joe checked his watch. Less than two
minutes and the immortal already had her exactly where
he wanted her. As Duncan and Grace stood up to leave,
he shook his head. "Maybe I should take lessons from
you, big guy," he said sourly. Mac just laughed and
tossed some money on the bar to pay for the drinks
before steering Grace out of the door and into the
night.

Once out the door, Grace gave the area a quick look.
Raising her hand, she put it on his chest to stop him.
"Well, it's good to know that we have company. I
just love being watched. How about you? No big
movements, but my charge is crouching behind that tree
over there. Unbelievable." Removing her hand, she
said, "Shall we continue?" Taking his arm with hers,
she decided to leave her confusion, at least for a
while, crouching behind the tree.

Again Duncan shrugged. "As long as he doesn't follow
us inside my flat," he chuckled. He led her down the
street, his senses on full alert even though he kept
up an animated conversation. When they got to Blades
and Bodices, he opened up the door, and then locked
the door behind him, and then as an afterthought,
turned on the alarm system.

Grace didn't miss a motion he made. There was little
she did miss. But when he closed that door, she made
a mental decision to leave her problems outside. She
needed this and who better than someone she'd been
with before. Someone gorgeous and *very* good at what
he did. That much she remembered vividly. Glancing
around, she said, "Nice place you have here. You wear
any of this?" She couldn't help but tease.

"Once upon a time," he chuckled. He reached into a
rack of clothes, pulling a low cut French empire style
dress. "I seem to recall you wearing something like
these. It was so thin, I could see your whole body
through it, and when you leaned over, well...," his
eyes smiled almost as much as his mouth did as he
remembered that day.

She reached out and touched the fabric tenderly. "It
was one of my favorite eras. A woman could be a woman
and not have to be soft and silly. I don't do soft
well. Never have. This is beautiful."

"It's yours," he said, pushing it into her hands.
"Would you like to go upstairs and try it on?" From
the way his hand lightly caressed her back, he had
ever intention of watching her.

It seemed silly to her, but her eyes glistened a bit
as she gazed into his and said, "Only if you'll help
me into it. I seem to remember quite well that
dressing always required help." 'Undressing too,' she
thought as she held the dress to her and reached out
to place her hand on his chest. "Thank you."

"Your welcome, my lady," he said with a courtly bow.
Taking her hand again, he kissed the pulse point of
her wrist and then led her up the stairs.

As he led her to the lift, she gave the window one
last glance. Devil be damned, she was going to relax
and have some fun. Once upstairs, she turned to
MacLeod and gave him a smile. Moving in closely, she
softly said, "Nice apartment."

"Thank you," he said, pulling her close to his own
body. Everything about him exuded masculine sex
appeal, and now that his gorgeous body was pressed up
against hers, she could feel a growing bulge in his
jeans. "You said something about helping you undress?"
he asked, his eyes sparkling in the dim light of the
room.

She smiled as she wrapped an arm around his neck. "I
did, didn't I?" Barely having to rise, she whispered
into his ear. "I'll let you undo my buttons." She
had set the dress down on the back of a chair and her
other hand was free to open a few of the buttons on
his shirt, allowing her to get reacquainted with his
chest.

An absolutely incredible chest it was too. As her
hands roamed over it, his little nipples tightened
into hard nubs and she couldn't resist giving one a
pinch. "Watch it lady," he growled deeply as he worked
on her buttons. "Two can play that game."

"I hope so," she said, as she finally gave in to
temptation and lightly kissed his neck, just below his
ear. Both hands were now slowly working on his shirt,
like opening up a gift. Even though she knew what lay
underneath the wrapping, she was going to thoroughly
enjoy what she was uncovering.

He had been well built before, but he seemed to be
even more so now. It was obvious that he took staying
in shape very seriously. He let her pull his shirt off
first, then he removed hers, his fingers leaving a
trail of fire on her shoulders and arms as he slid it
off. "Nice, very nice," he said as he reached up to
slip her bra straps off as well, the side of his
thumbs lightly following the curve of her breasts as
they were slowly revealed.

A faint purr escaped her throat as she felt her body
start to heat up. She let her fingers explore the
muscles of his abdomen before moving to his back. She
lightly touched his buttocks through his pants as she
said, "I could say the same for you."

Reaching behind her, he undid the bra with the ease of
someone who had obviously done it many times before.
Tossing it aside, he caressed her breasts with his
hands for a moment, before pinching her nipples hard
enough to make her come up onto her toes and gasp.
When she did, his mouth immediately closed down on
hers in a fiery kiss as he hugged her so tight to him,
it felt like her breasts were getting crushed against
the hard muscles of his beautiful chest.

Intoxicating. The man was sheerly intoxicating. She
wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and returned
the kiss with every ounce of passion that he gave it.
Angling her head, she felt the kiss deepen. Being
devoured by him was something she didn't mind in the
least and she pressed her hips up against his to prove
it.

He was in no hurry to break the kiss, keeping it up
until it felt like the room was starting to spin
around her. Part of her mind vaguely registered him
scooping her up into his strong arms and carrying her
to his bed. Somewhere along the line, he had also
mananged to remove her pants, all without ever taking
his mouth away from hers. Then, as she lay naked
before him, Duncan MacLeod started to work his way
down, leaving a trail of hot, searing kisses and
lovebites all over her neck, shoulders, breasts and
belly until, spreading her legs with his hands, he
buried his mouth into her now very wet sex.

This time, a not so soft moan filled the room and her
hands made their way into his hair. It was shorter
than when she last knew him, but still very grabbable.
Her hips arched into him as intense heat spread
throughout her entire body.

His nimble tongue explored every bit of her, dipping
in deep into her depths before withdrawing to flick
over her center of pleasure. Using his fingers to pull
her folds apart to expose her completely to him, he
sucked her hot little nub into his mouth keeping up
the pressure on it until she was gasping and writhing
underneath him. Then with one little nip, he sent her
screaming over the edge.

It took her several moments to recover from the
powerful orgasm, even with immortal recovery. Still
she managed to pull him up to her and kiss him
intently. When they finally pulled apart for air, it
was a simple move of her strong hips that allowed her
to flip them over so that she was now straddling him.
It was between nip kisses on his sensitive neck that
she said, "Your turn." She wiggled her hips
suggestively and said, "All is fair..." She let the
rest go unsaid as it was now her turn to leave a trail
of fiery kisses on his chest and abdomen, before
seeking out her prize. Only she didn't engulf his
erection right away, instead she tasted his inner
thighs and paid rapt attention to his scrotum before
finally turning her attention to his manhood.

He moaned in sheer bliss as she pleasured him. Duncan
knew from experience with her that she preferred to be
topside anyways and that once she was done with the
sweet torture she was inflicting on his aching shaft
that she would mount him and ride them both to
completion.

But she wasn't about to end the torture so easily.
She worked him to the edge several times before
diverting her attention to other parts that had been
neglected. It was only when he was panting as
harshly as she had been, that she did finally do as
they both knew she would and moved back up. With a
long kiss, she finally let him slide slowly inside of
her. Both gasped as he filled her as she set them
into a rhythm.

Pulling her head down to him, he kissed her hard, his
tongue exploring her mouth as one hand squeezed a
breast that dangled down invitingly. His other hand
grabbed a buttock cheek and kneaded it hard at the
same time. As her rhythm quickened, and his thrusts
deepened, several of his fingers started to tease her
back entrance as his mouth left hers and claimed a
breast, sucking her engorged nipple deep into his
mouth.

She altered her movements to accommodate the new
sensations. Her head dropped forward and everything
she was became centered around this moment, this man,
and the pleasure that both of them were feeling. No
way was she going to experience this one without him.
With one hand supporting her, she grasped a handful of
hair with the other and increased the force of her
thrusts.

She rode him harder and harder, until with a loud cry,
she started to climax. As her tight tunnel clamped
down tight on his manhood, Duncan added his own room
shaking yell as he came as well.

She'd held his shoulders so tightly at that moment
that she was sure she'd bruised him. Good thing he is
immortal, she thought before collapsing on top of his
sweaty body. Each regained control of their breathing
slowly. "Oh man," she said on a breath, clearly
unable to articulate her reaction any better than that
at the moment.

He chuckled, his chest making a deep rumbling sound as
she pillowed her head in the middle of it. "Let me
know when you are ready for seconds," he said with a
smirk on his face.

She lay there, comforted by his warmth for several
minutes. Moving her shoulder length hair from her
face, she kissed his neck and moved against him. "I
think we could be in for a long night. I'm already
considering thirds and fourths." She latched onto his
ear and whispered, "What do you say?"

"Sounds good to me!" he said, grabbing her by the
shoulders and to her surprise, pushing an already
erect manhood back up inside of her. He took her on a
maddeningly slow right, teasing her so that she came
to the edge over and over again, but then back her off
again. But about the time she was about to scream in
frustration, he suddenly rammed his manhood in deep
and hard and in a few breath taking moments, had them
both losing themselves in another earth shattering
orgasm. Breathing hard, he leaned down and kissed her
tenderly. "Round two. I can go four easy. How about
you?"

She laughed at that and offered up, "You know, I think
I could go until you pass out." She couldn't help it,
there was just something in her that made her at least
have to sound tougher than what she was. Centuries of
putting on the front, she supposed. "How's that for
an answer?"

He bit her nose and made a tisking sound. "This is
love-making, not a battle for supremacy, my dear." He
wiggled his hips, moving his spent manhood around
inside of her. After a few minutes of this, she could
feel it start to fill her to overflowing again. Round
three went by nice and fast, round four seemed to last
forever as she sat in his lap, the two of them hardly
moving for what seemed like hours with out end. After
wards, the two of them collapsed on the bed, their
limbs intertwined and holding each other tightly until
sleep finally overcame them both.

For the longest time, Grace felt too pleasantly
exhausted to even dream. Blessedly, no thoughts
entered her mind, no darkness clouded her thoughts.
But that couldn't last forever before the dreams
finally did come, and these particular ones frightened
her more than just about any others. Her charge,
crouched behind a tree, waiting. But not for her, for
an innocent as he needed to fulfill his desire to
kill. Her eyes fluttered open, and it took her
several moments to come back to herself and remember
where she was. The clock showed shortly after 3 am.
A part of her hated it, but she had to find out what
he was up to. Quietly, and with more regret than she
realized, she easily slid out of the bed and moved to
find her clothing.

"And just where do you think you are going?" a low
voice came from the bed. "I thought you said you
weren't going to cop another runner on me."

Clothing in her hand and her back to him, she bowed
her head and sighed. That was the problem with
repeating history... it always came back to haunt you.
Turning to face him, she said, "I'm not." When his
eyebrow raised, she paused and moved to sit on the
edge of the bed. "I swear it isn't you, and I don't
know how to explain it. It's engrained in here," she
touched her chest before continuing, "I can lock out
the confusion and the need for only so long. *I*
brought him here. *I'm* responsible for him. How can
I rest knowing he's out there prowling? And if
anything happens, it would be *my* fault, *my* guilt
to bear. I already have enough... believe me."

"Grace, come here," he said, reaching out with his
hand. "If you were to say that to Methos and some of
the others, they would swear up and down you were
talking about me. Trust me, I know exactly what you
are talking about. But you can't do it alone! Let me
help. If not me, then someone else."

With resignation, she dropped her clothes on the floor
and slipped back into the warmth of the bed and his
arms. "I'm terrible at asking for help. Partners end
up dead, you know. So I take it all upon myself.
I've always been that way and I don't know how to
change."

"People around here have the annoying habit of not
staying dead," MacLeod said with a sour tone. "Hell, I
took the heads of most of the K'immies on the other
side of the river and their quickening is rattling
around inside of my head. So what it boils down to is
recreation head hunting. Kronos, for example, has had
his separated from his shoulders several times since
being here, and unfortunately, he is still in one
piece, causing mischief."

Nodding, Grace said, "I met one of his groupies last
night. Caspian. That was one of the stupidest moves
of my life, and as much as I hate admitting that I
needed it, but if my charge hadn't been there..." She
shuddered and pulled away. She hated seeming
dependent. What was wrong with her?

Duncan's hand lightly stroked her back as he studied
her in the darkness of his room. "You need help," he
repeated after a moment. "Serious help. Joe Dawson
once said it's amazing that we all aren't all insane
with all the crap that happens to us immortals. I know
I've danced on both sides of the lines myself more
times than I would care to admit." He paused, as
memories flared up in his mind. "And in those times of
madness, I've even killed some of my closest friends."
Tears trickled unbidden down his face. Sean Burns.
Ritchie. And the most horrible hurt of all, his own
teacher, kinsman and friend, Connor MacLeod.

Reaching up, she wiped away his tears, more than
understanding what he was feeling. Moving back in,
she held him tightly to her. "I'm not the only one
who needs help, it seems. Our lives seem to be very
similar. It's letting go of the guilt that is the
hardest at times. That and letting yourself feel and
trust. If you let no one in, you can't get hurt,
right?" And that was the bottom line, the reason why
she never stayed a full night because that would be
acknowledging feelings, that moments like tonight were
more than sex. That caring for someone else meant
opening up yourself to the possibility of losing...
losing them... or losing yourself in them. Both had
happened and could happen to her again.

The two of them clung to each other in the darkness,
drawing comfort and support from the other. With the
light of dawn filtering through the window, they both
knew that neither one of them had to face the demons
in their lives alone. At least for now.