Even with their early start, Billy and Machiavelli weren't on the road until it was nearly nine. By the time they climbed into the American's Thunderbird, the other immortals had awoken and were there to see them off. Perenelle actually gave Machiavelli a hug before they left. The tiny Italian flushed happily and clambered into the front seat of the convertible.

Billy climbed over the driver's side door and slid into his own seat. "I'm not sure when we'll be back actually," he called over the group.

Black Hawk leaned onto the driver's door. The convertible actually tilted slightly under the large immortals bulk. "And where are you actually going?" Billy fiddled with the controls of the radio and mumbled under his breath. Machiavelli ignored his obvious signs of discomfort and told Black Hawk very loudly where they were going. The Native American immortal shouted with laughter. Billy actually grinned despite himself.

"It was his idea, not mine," the American defended himself. "I wanted to go someplace fun. Now get off of my car." Black Hawk backed away from the car, still grinning. Billy chuffed at him before turning the ignition over. The American immortal then turned the car around, waved to the others and put his convertible into full throttle.

Billy grinned over at Machiavelli. "You know Mac, when you're a bit bigger I can teach you how to drive. For real this time." He waggled his eyebrows at the boy. Machiavelli hesitated only a moment. In his mind's eye, he tried to picture himself driving the convertible. The idea was ludicrous. He grinned up at Billy and stuck his head out the window to see where they were going. The wind whipped around his head; Billy groaned and pulled him back in. He kept his arm behind Machiavelli's seat as they sped down the highway.

~MB~

The air in New Mexico was hot and dry. Machiavelli was used to the heat, but not the dryness. Even before lunch, they had stopped twice to buy the boy a power drink. The European immortal was beginning to think this wasn't the best idea he had ever had. Still Billy seemed fairly happy speeding through the hot countryside, singing along with the radio. Machiavelli wished he felt as free to sing along as Billy did, but he didn't dare try.

"Was it always this dry Billy?" Machiavelli rasped about seven hours into their journey.

Billy nodded. "The heat's why we moved here- my family and I. Mama had brought us down from New York to Kansas, but then she got sick with consumption and the doctors said her best shot was to move to a dry climate." He gestured to the barren landscape around them. It was kind of beautiful in a wild way.

"Did it help her?" Machiavelli's eyes were wide and innocent. He waited anxiously for the American's reply.

"For a while," Billy acknowledged. He glanced over at the little boy and noted his discomfiture. "Listen Mac, we're supposed to be having fun. Both of our mothers are dead now- why worry about it? Let's have fun." He pointed to a sign on the side of the road. "Want to go to the amusement park? We're going to have to stop at some point anyways, the trip takes seventeen hours to get to Fort Sumner."

Machiavelli tilted his head. Normally, he would have rejected the idea. The thought of some of the rides looming ahead made him feel a bit queasy. But Machiavelli reminded himself that he was trying to imbibe some of the fun that Billy naturally possessed. "Sure," he agreed. "But no scary rides. My stomach gets sick sometimes."

Billy was already in the process of taking the exit. "We'll have fun," he said happily. "I won't put you on anything you don't want to go on." He slowed considerably as they went around a large loop and took a right at the end of the exit. "You point out the signs to me as they come, okay kid?"

Machiavelli nodded vigorously. He liked feeling useful to the American, even if at the back of his mind, he knew this was something that Billy could have easily done on his own. "There!" he called, pointing to a sign that nearly blended in with the brush.

Billy coasted in to the parking lot of the park and turned off the car. He grabbed the back of Machiavelli's shirt before the Italian could exit the car. "Maybe you shouldn't call me Billy in public. I feel like people will think I'm a pervert if we have no obvious family ties," Billy cautioned.

Machiavelli tilted his head. "Although, you could just be my older cousin or baby sitter or something."

Billy shook his head. "In my experience Mac, most people tend to think the worst of you. I'd like to ride the Ferris wheel, not get strung up by an angry mob."

"All right, what do you want me to call you?"

Billy shushed him slightly and spoke very softly. Machiavelli quieted down but still looked at the American expectantly. Billy shrugged. "Oh, I don't care, whatever makes you comfortable." He appraised Machiavelli thoughtfully. "I think I could be seen as your daddy with our current age differences. And I'll give you a pet name too."

Machiavelli opened his mouth to say something but by that point, they had made it to the ticket stand. "Two tickets," Billy told the ticket agent. "One for me and one for my son." He put his hands on the Italian's shoulders. Machiavelli leaned back so that his weight was pressing into Billy. The ticket agent didn't even look at them as he rang up the bill of sale. The two immortals pushed through the turnstiles.

"What are we going to ride first?" Billy asked his Italian counterpart.

Machiavelli looked to his left and then his right. People were milling all around them. "Can we ride that?" he asked shyly, pointing to the Tilt-a-Whirl. They got in line. It was lucky that Machiavelli had shot up or he wouldn't have made the height requirement. As it was, the Italian was only an inch above what was needed.

Because it was the middle of a Friday, the lines were minimal and the two immortals got on in their first go. "Pick a good one," Billy told him and Machiavelli shouted "Okay!" and dashed off to find the spiniest car he could find. They got into the seventh car and the attendant came by to strap them. At first, their car spun very little, but after going over the first bump the car began to rotate faster and faster. Machiavelli laughed so hard, the ride took his breath away. It was a rush.

After the Tilt-a-Whirl, the two immortals rode the bumper cars, the swings, the Tilt-a-Whirl again, and finally, the Ferris wheel. Billy bought them both an ice cream at one of the stalls on the far end and they walked around looking at the carnival games.

Following the ice creams, Billy put Machiavelli on the carousel, but stayed on the ground himself. Machiavelli was riding a gray horse that went up and down. During the first rotation, he hung on tightly to the pole, but he soon overcame his fear. The second time he came around, he waved and yelled "Hi Daddy!" Billy felt his heart drop into his stomach. Billy waved back, staring at the Italian.

"They're really sweet at this age, aren't they?" the woman next to Billy said to him.

"Oh yeah, he's my sweetheart," Billy acknowledged. "Which one is yours?" He asked the woman and she pointed to two girls, side by side, who were slightly behind where Machiavelli was. Billy found it surprisingly easy to talk to this woman, the two of them swapping stories about their 'children'. In the middle of telling her about their cowboy game, the ride stopped and Machiavelli came running over.

"Did you see me, Daddy? I rode the horse. He was a much better horse than you were," the boy enthused. Billy lifted him up in his arms. The two waved goodbye to Billy's new found friend and her two daughters.

Billy let Machiavelli ride on a kiddie roller coaster shaped like a caterpillar, then paid the extra fee to let Machiavelli jump around in a bounce house. The Italian had seemed to make friends with a little boy that Billy judged to be a similar age as him. Watching Machiavelli play, he could only imagine what the two of them were talking about. He decided he would ask the European immortal later on, if he remembered.

The final ride the two went on was the Scrambler, a ride where cars pivoted around on three individual arms. Billy allowed Machiavelli to climb in first, so that Billy would be on the outside when the momentum started to push them to the edges. As the ride began to spin faster, the immortals felt their stomachs drop. Machiavelli slid towards Billy as the momentum kicked in. He was thankful that he wasn't where Billy was sitting or he would have been flattened for certain. Machiavelli was sorry when it stopped.

As the two got off, Billy stumbled around a little, feeling a bit queasier than Machiavelli seemed to be. Machiavelli grabbed his hand as they left the amusement park. They made their way to Billy's Thunderbird. By the time they reached the car, Billy was feeling better and Machiavelli was drooping with sleepiness. Billy drove them to a nearby motel and ordered a pizza for supper. Machiavelli was asleep an hour later.