"I would have won you know." Carter said as he looked up into the dark sky stretched above them.
They were sitting on the back porch, Carter, Richie, Haresh, and Methos, lounging on the outdoor furniture and enjoying the cool and cloudless summer night. It had been three days since Richie and Carter had faced off in the sand lot on the outskirts of town. One thing had led to another, meaning that Carter had realized how cute the redhead was and that the package was wrapped quite nicely, and he'd invited Richie back to the house he shared with Haresh. His teacher had, upon realizing that he and Carter's new friend (to put it cordially) had an acquaintance in common, rekindled his friendship with Methos. It seemed that after roughly six centuries, Methos had finally forgiven him for killing his friend, Graham Ashe; they had met at Troy.
"Excuse me?" Richie asked, not sure if he needed to lay off the beer or if he really had heard Carter correctly.
"I would have won, at the sand lot I mean." The blonde repeated. Richie laughed, Haresh shook his head, and Methos smirked in preparation for the spectacle he was sure was to come.
"Yeah right, that's why I disarmed you, right?" Richie countered.
"Only after I got caught up against the side of the truck."
"How is that an excuse? It's your lack of training that caused that."
"What about you tripping over that rock? Backwards even!" Carter took another swig of beer and choked on it, he was laughing so hard.
"Irrelevant! I still disarmed you!"
"Please, if I hadn't been so excited, I would have taken your head instead of taking you home with me."
Methos coughed very quietly as he too choked on his beer. Haresh shook his head again, displeased with his student's lack of tact.
"Again, how is that my fault?" Richie demanded.
"It is entirely your fault!" Carter countered, pointing at Richie with his beer bottle.
"Just because you're older than dirt, doesn't mean you could have beaten me!"
"I have to wonder Richie, if you don't like old things, what the hell are you doing with me?" Carter demanded, his voice choked with humor.
"You're the one robbing the cradle here Carter. That's frowned upon in today's society."
"What would you know of society? You were born and you died in an era completely devoid of societal and cultural clarity!"
"I'm sorry, but weren't you two originally arguing about who would have won your little skirmish?" Methos interjected, officially tired of the racket, but enjoying the show noentheless.
Richie looked abashed, and he opened his mouth to apologize as his cheeks flushed red. Carter took that opportunity to lean over and plant one right on him. After he pulled away, revealing an even redder-faced Richie, he offered a good night to the other two immortals and dragged Richie into the house with him, muttering something about children and bedtimes.
"Young people." Haresh said as he gazed up at the brilliant stars sprinkled upon the pitch-black field of the night sky. "They think their so subtle – like flying bricks." Methos shook his head.
"No, they just don't care."