AN- Many thanks for all the positive reviews and apologies for the great delay in posting. If I actually got paid for this it would be different but my dog insists that I work so I can keep him in puppy biscuits!
Richie Ryan sighed as he punched yet another order into the cash register. He'd got to work at 6am and already had had to clean out one of the fryers that had been left overnight and now the breakfast crowd were arriving.
"Man, is it always this busy?"
Richie the old hand with three months experience looked over at the new guy, Emilio, as he snatched up two bagels and an orange juice and called for an Egg Muffin.
"Be like this until 10, maybe 10.30 now."
"And then do we get a break?" Emilio asked hopefully.
"Then we hit the lunch crowd." Franco, one of the older teens cut in.
Suddenly, there was a loud crash as one of the girls dropped a large tray of beef patties. Putting her hand to her mouth, her eyes welled up with tears.
"Oh God."
"You're gonna get it now, Nikki," Franco gloated as he carried on serving. "That's the third time this week. Old man Sutton's gonna can your butt for sure."
"I can't get fired!" The girl looked distraught. "You know how sick my Mom is. I gotta take care of me and Melinda."
"Aw hell," Richie protested, even as he shoved her towards the counter. "You serve!"
"What the hell was that?" A voice demanded from the back of the kitchen. "Nikki, you sure as hell better not be messing with my profits again."
"Richie!" Nikki worried, twisting anxiously to look over her shoulder, even as she mechanically punched the next order into the till.
"Chill," Richie offered her a grin as he bend down to pick up the mess. "He's not gonna fire me."
"That's right," Emilio smiled, remembering. "You guys are family, right?"
"Oh yeah," Franco smirked. "They're real close. How long you been there Ryan? Three whole months?"
Richie went to reply, only to hiss in pain as the still hot edge of the tray caught his finger. Popping it in his mouth he looked up to see his current foster father standing over him with a scowl on his face.
"Sorry Max," He apologised. "It was an accident."
"That makes it alright does it?" Max demanded. "Those patties cost me $1 apiece."
"$1? For this?" Richie held up the thin processed beef in disgust. "You were robbed."
"You watch your mouth kid, you're already working one double shift to pay for those. You don't want to make it two."
"I can't work this afternoon!" Richie protested. "Besides you already said I could go to the track. Gary's racing, remember?"
"You should have thought about that before you wasted my money."
"Aw c'mon Max. Look, I'll do the extra shift tomorrow."
"You'll do as you're told. I've got one guy out sick and another hasn't showed. I need the extra help this afternoon and you're it, kid."
Richie bit his lip as the man turned his back and left him to pick up the shattered remnants. Beside him he heard Nicki swear. He couldn't bear to look at her, as she spoke fiercely in his defence.
"You'd think after three months he could at least remember your dammed name."
As he pushed open the door of the small burger bar Duncan looked around at the cheap plastic tables, littered with torn wrappers, cold fries and pools of spilled coke. Over the heads of the lunch crowd he spotted Ryan's blonde curls jammed under a white paper hat.
Duncan smirked. The tough street kid looked like a grade A nerd.
Still, to be fair, he was working hard, even taking time out to watch out for the young lad who was obviously new and help out the red headed girl who looked tired and frazzled. Although his expression was enough to turn milk sour and when one customer changed his order mid way through, he made a smart assed remark that would have turned Mrs Hamilton's hair blue. And Tessa wanted this kid to work in their Store? Duncan shook his head it wouldn't be fair. Not on any of them.
"Can I help you, mister?"
Without realising, Duncan had reached the head of the line. Behind the counter an older teen with a flat, closed, expression was staring at him. Making a show of scanning the menu he shrugged. One heart attack on a plate was just as good as another.
"Cheeseburger please."
Before the teen could react Ryan appeared at his shoulder. His eyes were hard as his gaze travelled up the designer jeans and the expensive leather coat, to the all too well remembered features, hidden behind dark shades.
"Its alright, Franco, I'll deal with this guy."
"Suit yourself," Franco was already moving on the next in line.
"You checkin' up on me?" Ryan scowled.
"I was hungry." Duncan shrugged.
"Listen," the kid looked left and right before leaning over the counter and hissing in a low voice. "I've kept my mouth shut. You have all your stuff back. Hell, I even paid for the window.Now leave me alone."
"Sure. I'll just take my Cheeseburger and go."
Without a word the boy turned and picked up a packet marked Cheeseburger from the shelf behind him and put it in a large paper bag, which he pushed across the counter.
"Aren't you supposed to ask me if I want fries with that?"
To his surprise the boy added a jumbo portion of fries, a large Coke and an apple pie to the bag, before ringing it up and holding his hand out for the money.
"I didn't ask for all of that."
"You didn't come here for the food either," Ryan shrugged. "So, you buy me lunch and I let you tell me why you're really here."
"Alright." Duncan agreed, handing over enough to cover the bill. Then he picked up the bag and dropped it in the nearest trashcan.
"Hey!" Ryan protested.
"If I'm buying I pick the place."
Four blocks and an entire world away there was a small family run Italian restaurant where he had lunch from time to time with Leonard Kellerman when he was in this part of town.
"What would you like?" he asked as they settled into their seats.
"Let's see," Ryan tipped back slightly in his chair as he surveyed the menu. "I'll have the ravioli to start, with a Caesar salad, oh and do you have those little cheesy dough balls? I'll have some of those too. Actually, make that a double portion. And a family sized pizza, with the works, just pile everything on. Plus a plate of spaghetti, with that cream and ham sauce. And some garlic bread. And a beer, make that a whole pitcher."
"And for dessert, sir?" the waiter asked, giving him a wry look.
"I dunno," Ryan frowned. "Which would you recommend, the chocolate cake or the tiramisu? Tell you what, I'll have both." He closed the menu with a snap and nodded towards Duncan. "He's paying."
"And he's having one entrée and a soft drink." The Immortal retorted.
"Fine, whatever," Ryan rolled his eyes but placed his revised order without looking at the menu, which told Duncan he hadn't figured the Scot would go for his scam.
As the waiter left, Ryan eyed him keenly.
"So, are you going to tell me what went down the other night?"
"No." Duncan said flatly.
"Hey, like it or not I'm a part of this now."
More than you know, Duncan thought. Still, the last thing the kid needed was to be drawn even closer into Immortal affairs.
"You're not part of anything. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Hey, you were the one who put out the welcome mat. That security system was a piece of cake." Ryan bragged.
As well he might, Duncan acknowledged. That security system had been state of the art. "Sounds like you've had a lot of practice."
"I'm working on my college fund."
Duncan acknowledged the quip with a tilt of his head. Lord knows the boy's foster father paid him a pittance and with the hours he made him work there was little enough change to hold down a second job.
"There are others jobs."
"And who's gonna give me a reference?" Ryan shook his head. "You?"
"No, what I'm giving you is a chance," Duncan fished out a card and wrote a telephone number on the back. "This is the number of the garage where I have the T-Bird serviced. The owner's name is Carl Davies. He's a friend of mine. He's looking for an apprentice mechanic. The pay's not that great, but there's an apartment above the garage that comes with the job and he'll train you. Keep your nose clean and your head down and in a few years you could be your own boss. Own your own place."
He offered the card. To his surprise Ryan made no move to take it.
"He's not gonna hire me."
"Why not?"
"Dream on, Macleod. I've got a Juvie Record as long as your arm and I don't got a High School diploma."
"I haven't got a High School diploma."
"Okay, so my grammar's lousy too. You don't gotta rub it in."
"No, I meant, I never graduated from High School either and I think I've done pretty well for myself, don't you?"
"I guess." Richie gave a non-committal shrug.
"So, you'll call him?"
"And all I gotta do is turn up and not trip over my own feet?" Ryan shook his head. "Thanks but no thanks."
"Pardon?" Duncan blinked.
For a moment Richie was tempted to explain. All his life he'd been beholden to other people. Moved from place to place because someone somewhere thought they knew what was best for him. In a few weeks he'd turn 18 and for the first time in his life he'd be able to make his own choices. He didn't want to start that off being beholden to anyone.
But he didn't think Macleod would understand. So, instead he pasted on his most cocky grin.
"You heard me."
The rest of the meal was a disaster. Several times Duncan had to bite his tongue at the boy's non-existent table manners, as Ryan talked with his mouth full, and attracted sideways looks from other diners as he dug enthusiastically into his food. For his part the boy replied to his enquiries about his life and background in increasingly terse and monosyllabic answers until he finally threw down his fork.
"Who the hell are you? My new social worker? Just lay off, OK."
"I'm just trying to understand why you would turn down a perfectly good offer." Duncan began.
"With no strings attached?" Ryan scoffed. "Like you won't ever come to call in your marker? Yeah, right."
In exasperation Duncan signalled the waiter and settled the bill. Clearly this had been a mistake. He had the boy had no common ground and to be fair threatening to kill him on their first meeting wasn't exactly a sound basis for trust. He'd talk to Connor. His kinsman would be a better mentor for the teenager.
He led the way out of the restaurant and paused on the sidewalk and looked over at Ryan as heprepared to walk out of his life.
Then he frowned.
"Are you alright?"
"Sure," Ryan nodded, pulling his collar up against the cold. "Thanks, for the food and all."
Duncan wasn't at all convinced. The boy looked dreadfully pale and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead, despite the biting cold. Nodding his agreement he nonetheless fell into step beside the teen as he made his way back towards the burger bar.
"What are you doing?" Ryan asked after a while.
"I'm walking you home."
"You make me sound like your date." Ryan said sourly, as he swallowed hard.
"Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth," Duncan advised, without looking at him. "It'll help."
Ryan shot him a sharp glance, but didn't say anything as he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as they covered the short distance. With a feeling of relief heleant gratefullyinto the heavy glass door of the burger bar and pushed his way into the warmth.
The hot air, thick with rancid fat hit him like a physical wave, causing his to sway slightly as he fought the tide of rising nausea. To his surprise he felt afirm hand on his shoulder, steadying him. He looked up to meet Macleod's concerned brown eyes.
"Where the hell have you been?" Max's irate tones cut across his thoughts. "You have 30 minutes for lunch. You've been almost an hour."
"Sorry Max," Richie swallowed hard, concentrating on staying upright. "Guess I lost track of time."
"What the hell's wrong with you? You been drinking?" Max leant in slightly grasping his collar and pulling Richie forward, so he could smell his breath.
"No, I'm .."
Richie felt a wash of salty saliva well up in his mouth and knew he could hold it in no longer. With a sickening heave and no small sense of satisfaction he deposited the remains of his lunch over Max's shoes.
Duncan manoeuvred the T-bird through the late afternoon traffic, casting a concerned glance at the teenager slumped in the passenger seat. He had only taken a couple of sips out of the bottle of water the Immortal had brought for him, before pressing it up against his forehead and closing his eyes.
"Maybe I should sue."Duncan offered.
One blue eye slid open to regard him groggily.
"Do what?"
"Food positioning," He clarified. "There are laws against making people sick."
"Not their fault." Ryan shook his head gently and made a face, as if he regretted the motion, before pulling himself up slightly straighter and looking groggily around.
"What you made yourself sick?" Duncan shook his head.
"Not sick, allergic," Ryan managed. "You can let me off here."
"What?" Duncan put his foot on the brake and pulled over so sharply that the T-bird shuddered to a halt and cars behind sounded their horns. Both caused Ryan to wince and look greener than ever. In exasperation Duncan snatched the water bottle out of his hand, unscrewed the top for him and passed it back.
"Drink."
He waited until the boy had taken a few swallows and was looking only slightly grey.
"You're allergic?"
"Broccoli," Ryan nodded carefully. "Real bad. Makes me spew."
"And you knew this?"
"Uh huh."
On his second try, Richie managed to work the lever and push the door open, half spilling and half lurching out on the sidewalk.
"Whoa!" Breaking all his own rules, Duncan vaulted over the driver's door and raced around the front of the car to catch the teen by the arm. "Where do you think you're going?"
"Bus stop," Ryan waved his arm vaguely. "Gonna take me right to the track. Gary's racing. Don't gotta be late. I promised." He managed. Just before he threw up again.
"Oh laddie." Duncan murmured.
"Thanks for this," Richie concentrated on screwing the top back onto his bottle of water, as he looked out at the track from his ringside seat. "I mean you didn't have to and all, but thanks."
"Feeling better?"
"Yeah," Richie considered that. "I guess."
"Gary's pretty good."
"Regional junior champion a couple of years back." Richie boasted of his friend. "If he qualifies today he might have a shot at the pro circuit. I promised I'd come and cheer him on."
"You should be at home in bed." Duncan grumbled. Part of him wanted to put the boy over his knee for being so foolhardy. But the other part of him could only admire that the lad had been prepared to go to such lengths as to deliberately make himself sick, so he could keep his promise to his friend.
"Naw. Besides, I think I pretty much don't have anything left to spew now anyway."
"I'm glad to hear it. If you don't start getting some colour back soon I think Gary might lynch me."
The teenager had greeted Ryan with an awed, "Man, you look like shit" but it was the glarethat the teenager had immeadiately sent in his direction that had caused the quiver of disquiet to trickle down the Immortal's spine and settle like a cold hard lump in his gut. Even Ryan's quiet assurance. "Chill man, he's cool." did nothing to quell his concern. The fact that Ryan needed to convince his friend that the Immortal hadn't harmed him was proofthat the kid was moving in some very dangerous circles. And it might just get him killed.
"You don't gotta mindGary. He's just looking out for me."
Lord knows, someone needed to, Duncan thought. His foster father had been more concerned about who was going to pull the afternoon shift than his foster son being sick. If Nikki hadn't pointed out as loudly as she could that Richie might be infectious and maybe they should call the board of health Duncan was pretty sure he would have forced the kid to work regardless. He certainly hadn't been about to take time out of his working day to see him safely home.
"Hey Ryan," A large biker type loomed over their seated forms. "Where's that exhaust you promised me?"
"Hey Gino," Duncan watched as the kid pasted on an obviously insincere smile. "How you doing my man?"
"I paid you $80 bucks. You owe me that part."
"I know, I know, you don't gotta rush these things. I'm working on it."
Gino reached out and grasped Richie's jacket in one fist pulling the teen up out of his seat. "Work harder or I'm gonna rearrange your face."
"Ugh," Richie turned his head away from the drops of spittle that landed on his cheek. "Whoa, easy dude."
To their joint surprise a hand reached out and effortlessly broke Gino's grasp as the Immortal slipped between Gino and the teenager.
"Leave him alone."
The words were softly spoken and Gino opened his mouth to make a sarcastic retort. But something in those brown eyes made the sneer die on his tongue. With a final face saving glare at the teenager hovering at the Immortal's shoulder he turned away.
"Come on." Duncan grasped Ryan'scollar and firmly steered him in the other direction.
"Hey, it was cool. I could handle him and it wasn't like there was any real problem or anything." Richie babbled.
The Immortal just looked at him. The kid at least had the grace to blush.
"But hey, thanks."
"You really want to thank me?" Duncan looked him in the eye. "Then get out of the parts business."
The teenagertipped his head on one side to consider the Immortal before nodding. The guy had been on the level today. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to at least take a look at this job.