Richie arrived at the loft promptly at seven as requested and found Duncan waiting for him on the couch with his friend.

"Ah, here he is," Duncan said standing up.

"Am I late?" Richie asked in confusion, checking his watch.

"No, I was early," Duncan's friend answered getting up as well. "I'm Caitlin," she introduced herself, offering her hand. Richie smiled broadly and took it.

"I'm Richie, nice to meet you."

"So, Richie, Duncan tells me yesterday was your birthday," Caitlin said conversationally over salads. "How old are you?"

Richie chewed on a tomato. "Twenty," he said after swallowing.

"Oh," she smiled. "Young one."

"Not as young as I used to be." He smirked happily at her laugh.

Duncan rolled his eyes and sipped his wine. He should have known something like this was going to happen. Caitlin wasn't his type, but she was Richie's: long hair, big eyes and breathing.

"Where were you born?" Caitlin continued her questioning.

"Lived here my whole life save a few months… when I lived in Paris."

Caitlin smiled at Richie's cocky tone. "France, I assume?"

"Yeah. I had a barge."

Duncan choked on an onion. "You had a barge?"

"I… lived on one," Richie tried to save face. He had forgotten Duncan was there. His usual line wouldn't work.

"On mine," Duncan told Caitlin. "Richie had the room under the wheelhouse."

Before Richie could answer, the waiter came by to collect the salad plates and told them their meals would be out shortly. Caitlin took the opportunity to excuse herself to the restroom. As she walked away from the table, she took her cell phone from her purse and started dialing.

"Thanks a lot, Mac!" Richie hissed trying to look casual in case Caitlin looked back. "I had something going here!"

"Richie, don't get all excited. She's just being nice."

"She's being more than nice."

Duncan laughed. "I promise you, she's not interested."

"How would you know?"

"Because I've known her for two hundred years. You're not her type."

"Says you."

"Richie," Duncan said in a low tone. "I brought you along because she could be a valuable contact in the future, not so you could get in a few kicks."

"Mac, chill."

"Richie, I'm serious. Caitlin is a good friend of mine; keep your pants on."

"Chill," Richie repeated with a smirk.

Duncan glanced across the room as Caitlin headed back from the restrooms. "I'm serious, behave."

Richie rolled his eyes. "Yes, Dad."

"Sorry about that," Caitlin sat back down.

"Not a problem," Richie assured her, turning the charm back on.

Duncan scowled at him from across the table as their food was delivered. Richie smiled back.

"Did you like growing up here, Richie?" Caitlin asked as they began to eat their dinners.

"It was alright…" Richie hedged. Duncan rolled his eyes; he was about to play the sympathy card. "I moved around a lot so, you know, it wasn't that stable."

Caitlin frowned. "Your parents moved a lot?"

"I was never really adopted," he admitted, looking at his steak as he cut it. "But, you know, Mac here… he's been great. He gave me a real break and really helped me out."

Duncan sighed. If Richie wanted to make an idiot of himself, he'd let him. He should know better by now; Richie's hormones were impossible to control. Caitlin would let him down easy.

"That must have been hard." She fell for it.

"It wasn't 'Father Knows Best', but don't let the media make you think we all got the snot beat outta us."

Duncan tried not to laugh. "Real poetic, Rich," he mumbled.

"What happened to your parents, if you don't mind me asking..." She leaned in a bit, concentrating on Richie's face.

"Well, I'm immortal," he shrugged. "I don't really have any."

"Surely there's someone you considered your parents… who are you named after?"

Duncan frowned and looked at Caitlin. He didn't know her to be this pushy usually. Something was up.

"My first foster parents," Richie answered, the attention blinding him to the odd line of questioning. "But I wasn't with them for that long."

She sat back and looked a bit confused. "You weren't?"

"Nope."

"Oh…"

Everyone ate during a lengthy lull in the conversation. "So… what about you?" Richie asked, eating his baked potato. "What's your story?"

"Well," Caitlin put her fork down. "I was found by an immortal. He took me in and raised me, then when I died he taught me."

"Sounds like a good guy," Richie said.

"He is," she smiled warmly. "He's been taking in young pre-immortals and training them for a very long time… centuries."

"So he's still around?"

"Yes."

"Cool," Richie answered for lack of a better response.

"Maybe you could meet him sometime," Caitlin offered. "He'd make a good contact, too. If, of course, you don't mind?" she asked Duncan.

"If he taught you, he must be a good guy," Duncan said. "Though, I'd like to meet him first, you understand."

"Of course," she agreed. "You can never be too careful about who you introduce your students to. Especially when they're this young. He's just a baby, really."

Duncan couldn't help but smile as Richie frowned into his au jus at the last comment. He had it coming; he got fair warning.

"You know," Duncan commented. "I don't think I've ever heard you mention this guy before."

"I haven't? Well, he's a great guy. You should both meet him." She picked up her wine. "I think you'd all get along well." She took a sip. "Maybe I could pass along your phone number?"

"I don't see why not," he agreed. "I wouldn't mind getting to talk to him."

"I'll be seeing him in a few days," she smiled broadly. "I'll give him your name and number then. Be expecting a call from Jack."

Duncan looked unhappily at the red ink in the account book. He'd have to get Richie to take a look at it; the young man was better than he was at cutting corners and stretching money. When he first bought the dojo, he and Charlie had been quite surprised by how quickly Richie had put the place back in the black. Too bad he had told Richie to take the day off. Looked like the books were going to have to wait… or maybe not… Duncan looked up expectantly at the doors of the dojo, only it wasn't Richie. A tall, well built, middle aged, man came in and walked straight to him.

"Duncan MacLeod?"

"Yes." Duncan let him in the office and closed the door.

"I'm not here for a challenge," the man assured him, noticing the katana close at hand. "I'd just like to talk. Caitlin told me you'd be expecting me."

Duncan paused. Caitlin had left over a week ago. "John?"

"Jack."

"Jack. Right. Sorry, I wasn't expecting you to come so soon…" he floundered. He hadn't expected him to come at all.

"I suppose I should have called first. I was just so happy about Mackie."

"Mackie?"

"Oh, he goes by Richie now, doesn't he?"

Duncan frowned. "You hurried out here to meet Richie?"

Jack sighed. "I should have known Caitlin wouldn't explain it all. She's like that, you know."

Duncan nodded. "You were saying about Richie?" he prompted.

"Well," Jack started. "You mind if I have a seat?"

"Go ahead."

"I wanted to speak to you before I went to Mac… Richie. I understand you are his teacher. And I thought it appropriate to go through the proper channels considering the circumstances."

"Under what circumstances?" Duncan asked, starting to get frustrated.

"My name is Jack Ryan, I'm… Richie's father."