Chapter 4: Dirty Laundry, Dinner, and Dishes
"MACLEOD!" Duncan heard about ten minutes later. "WHERE THE HLL ARE MY CLOTHES!"
Duncan sighed. "They were filthy," he called through the closed bathroom door to the Child Immortal within. "I'm washing them."
"So," Kenny asked, sarcastically, "what am I supposed to do. Come out there naked?"
Duncan rolled his eyes. "You could," he told him, "it wouldn't bother me, but you could also wrap a towel around your waist or I could give you one of my t-shirts to put on."
He heard the door click and a moment later the kid came out with a towel around his waist. "I don't want anything of yours," he replied, sneeringly.
Duncan shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said, "but you're liable to get cold in the night."
Kenny glared at him. "I won't be here tonight," he muttered under his breath, sourly, "and neither will you."
Duncan raised an eyebrow at him. "Has your backside healed already?" he asked, pointedly. "Maybe we need to correct that."
Kenny's eyes widened and his hands flew to his behind. "No way!" he said, backing up. "You ain't gonna lay a hand on me again!"
"I will if I have to, Kenneth," Duncan told him, "and the next time I do I'll use something other than my hand. Now, either keep your mouth shut or I'll wash it out with soap."
"Fine," the Child Immortal grumbled. Just then, his stomach growled.
Duncan grinned, memories of Richie's stomach doing just that. "Obviously," he told the kid, "you're hungry. Dinner's almost ready. You can come set the table."
"Do I look like your personal bus boy?" Kenny asked him, sarcastically.
"Yes," Duncan told him firmly. "If you're gonna eat, you're going to work. Now, set the table." He pointed to where he had set out everything on counter.
Kenny glared, but did as he was told. MacLeod had been right when he said it looked like he hadn't eaten in a while. The last thing he remembered eating was an apple he'd swiped three days ago. That bstrd Karne had started hunting him right after that. Whatever the man was making to eat did smell good and it was making his stomach growl even more.
"There's milk in the refrigerator," Duncan told him. "Glasses are on the rack by the sink."
"I'd rather have beer," Kenny told him, seriously.
Duncan raised an eyebrow at that. "Well," he told him, "you're just out of luck. It's either milk or water. Take your pick."
"Fine," he said, grabbing the stupid milk and two glasses, "here." He clunked them down onto the table, which earned him a glare from the Highlander.
"You break 'em," Duncan told him, "and I bust your backside. Got it?"
"Whatever," Kenny said, plopping down into a chair.
Duncan sighed. His patience was wearing thin, but he intended to get through this meal without abuse being heaped from him from his surly companion. "Let's eat," he said, bringing over the small vegetarian casserole he'd whipped together. The moment he sat it on the table, the kid scooped up a big helping of it and started wolfing it down.
"Slow down, Kenneth," he told him, "before you choke."
"It ain't like it'll kill me," Kenny told him, rolling his eyes.
"That isn't the point," Duncan told him. "It's obvious table manners will be one of the things we'll be working on."
"What's that supposed to me?" Kenny asked him, glaring.
"It means that while you are under this roof," Duncan told him, "you ARE going to learn some respect and some manners. One way or another." He leveled a pointed look at him that said quite clearly what "another" meant.
"Oh, please," Kenny groaned, sneeringly. "That may have worked on your precious Richie, MacLeod, but it ain't gonna work on me. Besides, I'm older than you. You can't tell me what to do."
Duncan's jaw tightened at the mention of his dead student, but he refused to be baited. Kenny was just trying to get a rise out of him and he wasn't going to let the kid get the upper hand on him. "You may be older as far as years are concerned," he told the kid, "but as far as maturity and experience, I am most definitely the superior."
Kenny rolled his eyes, picking his fork back up. "I'm sure that made a whole lot of sense to you," he told him, "but it sure as hll didn't to me."
"It means," Duncan told him, firmly, "that of the two of us I'M the adult. That gives me more than enough right to tell you what to do. Now then, are you finished? Do want some more?" There was still half a pan of casserole left, and he certainly wasn't going to eat it.
"I'm done," Kenny said, gulping down the last of his milk, and pushing his plate toward the Highlander.
"Good," Duncan said, grinning. "Now, go do the dishes."
"What!?" Kenny asked, outraged.
"I made dinner," Duncan told him, "so you get to clean up. Dish detergent is under the sink. Just put what's left of the casserole into the fridge. We'll reheat it tomorrow and finish it off then." He got up, walked over to the sofa, and sat down. Flipping on the television, he started watching a ball game.
Kenny glared at him.
"The longer you stand there," Duncan told him, his eyes never leaving the screen, "the longer it's going to take you because you ARE going to do the dishes. Even it takes you all night."
Growling, Kenny grabbed the dishes off the table and carried them to the sink, tossing them in it.
"Remember," Duncan called out from the sofa, "you break 'em, I bust you."
Kenny growled again.
Just you wait, MacLeod. Tonight, you're head is mine.
"Quite thinking about chopping me into itty bitty pieces and get to work," Duncan ordered him, sternly, "unless we need to have another discussion like we had earlier."
A third growl escaped from his lips, but Kenny started doing the dishes. It took him about twenty minutes, but he got them all clean. It wouldn't have taken that long, except that the pan the casserole was in had refused to come clean. When he was done, he found that he was very tired.
Duncan looked over, saw that he was done, and shut the television off. Getting up, he walked to his dresser and pulled out a pair of his boxer shorts and a t-shirt. Handing them to the Child Immortal he said, "Here, put these on. You can wear them to bed."
"I told you I don't want anything of yours," Kenny told him, growling.
Duncan's eyes narrowed. Reaching out quickly, he snatched the towel from around the kid's waist before he could react.
"Hey!" Kenny exclaimed, his face reddening with embarrassment.
Duncan rolled his eye. "You haven't got anything I haven't seen before," he told him, bluntly. "Now you can either stand there naked or you can go put these on." He held out the offered clothes to him.
"Fine," Kenny said, snatching the clothes out of his hands. "You're gonna pay for this, MacLeod—OW!" He yelped when two sharp smacks landed on his bare behind. Rubbing it, he turned to glare at the Highlander.
"One was for the attitude," Duncan told him, crossing his arms over his chest, "and one was for being rude. Now, unless you want more you'll shut up and do as you're told."
Glaring, Kenny went to do as he was told. Coming out again, wearing the clothes, he saw that MacLeod had turned down his bed. "The boxers are too big," he grumbled at the man, sourly.
Duncan shrugged. "So," he said, "you're only going to be sleeping in them. Come hop in." He gestured to his bed.
"I'm not sleeping with you!" Kenny growled at him.
Duncan resisted rolling his eyes, but just barely. "You aren't," he told him. "I'm going to take the couch."
"You didn't the last time," Kenny reminded him. "If I remember, you told me you weren't about to give up your bed."
Duncan shrugged. "Things change," he told him. "Now, in."
Sighing, Kenny got in and pulled the covers over his eyes. Putting his left arm behind his head, he closed his eyes…only to open them again when he heard something go click. MacLeod had handcuffed him to the metal bed post. "I knew I couldn't trust you, MacLeod!" he shouted at the man, yanking at the handcuffs. "You bstrd!"
Ducan glared at him. "Actually," he told him, "at the moment its YOU I don't trust. Those are to ensure that you not only stay put, but you don't try anything either. And don't bother attempting to break them, their titanium steel; and trying to pick the lock won't do any good, either. Those are Amanda's 'trick' hand cuffs that only a key can unlock. Now shut up, and go to sleep." He turned off the lamp and then headed into the bathroom to take a shower himself and get ready for bed.
Kenny struggled against the hand cuffs for a while, but fatigue got to him in the end and he ended falling asleep.
Duncan grinned at the slumbering Child Immortal.
I wonder why it is that they look like such peaceful angels when their asleep but are such hellions when their awake!
He remembered his mother once saying, "Aye, 'tis why the Good Lord makes 'um lovable. So ya don' go killin' in whilst their sleepin'!" He had thought it silly then, considering it was he was talking about, but now he could understand it.
Sighing, wondering how so many things could happen in only a handful of hours; he grabbed the other pillow off the bed and lay down on the sofa. He too was soon sleeping peacefully.
He hope it lasted.
TBC…