*July, 2, 1998*
Duncan was sitting in an overstuffed chair going over some paperwork when Richie entered the living room.
"Hey, Mac?" Richie asked quietly.
Duncan looked up. "Yes?"
"Can I talk to you for a second?"
"What is it?"
"It's about earlier today."
"What about it?"
"I just wanted to say, sorry. . . 'cause I kinda flew off the handle and. . . yeah."
"Don't worry about it."
" 'Kay." Richie stood in front of Duncan and they lapsed into the uncomfortable silence that had become a constant in their relationship. "Well, that's all I wanted to say, so. . . I guess I'll just go now."
"Wait, I want to ask you something."
"Sure, what?"
"What were you going to say before Tessa stopped you?"
"Nothin'." Richie answered with a shrug.
"You've been acting funny ever since then, so it wasn't nothing."
"Don't worry about it, Mac." Duncan gave Richie a calculating look. "Mac, just. . . It was nothing."
"What am I not?" Duncan asked. Richie looked away and shifted his weight. "You said I'm not something, what?"
"My father. There I said it, you happy now?" Richie snapped instantly regretting it. "Mac, I. . . I'm sorry, okay? It's just, well, you're not."
"I know I'm not," Duncan said.
"Well, you sure don't act like it sometimes," Richie offered a shy grin.
"Never noticed." The silence returned.
"Look, Mac. I know you think I think of you that way and you wouldn't mind if I called you 'dad' everynow and then. . ."
"What makes you so sure of that?" Duncan interrupted.
"Because I know you, and you wouldn't mind. But, I would. . . You remember a couple years ago when I tried to find who I thought was my dad?" Duncan nodded. "Well, it got me thinking. Just because Emily and Jack weren't my real parents, doesn't mean I don't have parents out there somewhere. I know we have some kind of weird family bond here, and to be honest I don't know exactly what role I put you in. But, I do have parents and they're not you and Tessa. For all I know they're either dead, or didn't care enough to stick around to watch me grow up. And I can't help but feel that if I started calling you 'dad' I would be insulting someone; either my real dad because he died and there was nothing he could do about it and I just replaced him, or you. . . because my real dad's scum. And if that's the case, I don't want to put you in the same category as him."
"If he's scum?"
"Yeah. I know it's kinda stupid, but, I just can't."
"Richie, I don't mind, either way," Duncan assured him.
"Okay." Richie turned to leave.
"And Rich?"
"Yeah?"
"If you ever change your mind, you know in a couple hundred years or whenever. . . "
Richie smiled. "I know."
*July 9, 1998*
Richie rolled over and put his arm around Rylan. In the rare silence of the MacLeod household he thought about all the fights and apologies he had had with Duncan over the years. He didn't know why he was thinking about that. . . maybe he was changing his mind about how he felt about Duncan. For some reason he kept hearing Duncan's words echoing in his head, 'I don't mind, either way. . . If you ever change your mind, you know in a couple hundred years or whenever. . .'
"No," Rylan mumbled taking his arm off her and bringing him back to the present. "You're hot."
"Thank you."
"No, I mean you're hot," she clarified sleepily. "Move."
"I know what you mean, but I'm stronger than you so I don't care what you want." He wrapped both arms around her and squeezed.
"Hey!" she squealed.
"Getting a little warm?"
"I will find a way to make your life hell if you don't let me go."
"What are you going to do, tell Connor on me?"
"I just might." She twisted in his arms.
"Not interrupting am I?" Duncan asked. Rylan and Richie stopped fighting and looked at the door. Rylan laughed.
"Does it count as de ja vouis if it really happened?"
"Why not." Richie said sitting up.
"Contemplate it while you get ready, you're leaving in an hour. And everyone wants to say good bye." Duncan said closing the door.
Richie sighed and got out of bed. "I said it before and I'll say it again, four thirty is way too early for a plane to leave."
"I didn't even know that there was a four thirty in the morning until today," Rylan commented watching Richie get dressed.
"Aren't you going to get up?"
"No. I have a theory I want to test out."
"And what is this theory?"
"That if I refuse to say good bye, you'll refuse to leave, then everyone will be happy."
"I think there's one variable you forgot. . . Mac."
"Ugh," she groaned. "You mean I actually have to get up? At three in the morning? Are you serious?"
"If I can do it, you can do it. What do you think?" He held out his arms. He was wearing a blue oxford shirt and khakis.
"Dang, if I didn't know it was you, I wouldn't know it was you. Very GQ," she smirked, "but I still don't like it."
. . . . . .
"Is that it?" Duncan asked loading the last of Richie's bags into the trunk.
"That's it," Richie nodded.
"Well, lad, are we ready?" Connor asked.
"I don't think I'll ever be ready."
"Me either. I'll miss you, Richie." Tessa threw her arms around Richie's neck.
"It'll only be a couple months, Tessa."
"A couple months too long. You always get into trouble when you're away from me."
"Don't worry, Tessa, I'll take good care of the lad," Connor assured her. "No harm will come to him."
"You listen to Connor, or you'll wish that you really had died," Duncan told Richie sternly.
"Mac, I'm not a kid. I can take care of my- - -" Duncan raised his eyebrows. "Yes, sir," Richie said with a smirk.
"I better not hear anything about you getting into trouble with the Watchers," Joe said.
"Okay."
"Keep yourself out of trouble," Amanda said giving him a kiss. "Or at the very least don't get caught," she whispered in his ear.
"Don't piss anyone off, kid," Adam said dryly.
"I'll remember that," Richie laughed.
"See you around, I guess," Rylan said awkwardly.
"Yeah, guess so." He opened his arms slightly and she jumped into them. "Ry, I'll see you soon, I promise," He assured her.
"Watch your head."
"I will. Bye, Ry." He squeezed her one last time before letting go and buried his nose in her hair. . . apples, just like he had expected. Somehow she always smelled like apples.
"Bye, Richie. . . uh, I guess it's Ryan know, huh?"
Richie ran his fingers through his short cropped hair, "Yeah, guess so."
"Time to go," Duncan said. "You don't want to miss the plane, Ryan."
"I suppose not."
. . . . . .
Richie settled into the uncomfortable airline seat. He was only an hour into the flight and he was already going out of his mind. Connor had already fallen asleep in the seat next to him. Richie sighed and looked out the window; he had never been able to sleep on planes. Resigning himself to hours of claustrophobia and more importantly utter boredom, he began digging through his carryon for something to distract himself with. He pulled out his CD player and opened it to see what he had been listening to last. Satisfied, he put on his headphones and hit play. Not one minute into the first song, he started fidgeting. Resisting the urge to scream just for the sake of doing something, he reached into his bag and pulled out what he thought was his copy of Huckleberry Finn.
"Little Women?" He shrugged, "What the hell. . ." He opened it and found a note tucked inside the cover. It was addressed in Rylan's loopy handwriting to simply 'Rich'. Smiling he opened it and read.
'Dear Richie-
I knew you'd cave eventually. I really don't know what to say. But I know what I've said is not enough. I've never been away from you without being able to turn on MTV to see how you were doing. As I'm writing this I can't help but become incredibly sappy, so bare with me. All my life I've felt very lucky to have you around. You've done a lot of things for me over the years and I only wish there was a way for me to pay you back. Unfortunately, I can't write songs or poems or anything pretty like that. But I do know how to write in general so here I go.
Always remember, no matter how many miles away from Seacouver, and no matter how many years from now you may be, you will always be Richie Ryan: named for Emily Ryan, son of Duncan and Tessa MacLeod. The street punk, the inept thief, the amazing boy who became an even more amazing man, the wonderful person that I had the great fortune of spending nearly everyday of my life with. You will always be my best friend, you will always be Richie Ryan, and I will always be you biggest and most loyal fan.
Leaving nothing but love behind, and receiving nothing but love in return. Half a soul here, with the other half there, to be joined again when the time comes.
Guess I do have a bit of a poet in me. Watch your head.
Love, Rylan.'
Duncan was sitting in an overstuffed chair going over some paperwork when Richie entered the living room.
"Hey, Mac?" Richie asked quietly.
Duncan looked up. "Yes?"
"Can I talk to you for a second?"
"What is it?"
"It's about earlier today."
"What about it?"
"I just wanted to say, sorry. . . 'cause I kinda flew off the handle and. . . yeah."
"Don't worry about it."
" 'Kay." Richie stood in front of Duncan and they lapsed into the uncomfortable silence that had become a constant in their relationship. "Well, that's all I wanted to say, so. . . I guess I'll just go now."
"Wait, I want to ask you something."
"Sure, what?"
"What were you going to say before Tessa stopped you?"
"Nothin'." Richie answered with a shrug.
"You've been acting funny ever since then, so it wasn't nothing."
"Don't worry about it, Mac." Duncan gave Richie a calculating look. "Mac, just. . . It was nothing."
"What am I not?" Duncan asked. Richie looked away and shifted his weight. "You said I'm not something, what?"
"My father. There I said it, you happy now?" Richie snapped instantly regretting it. "Mac, I. . . I'm sorry, okay? It's just, well, you're not."
"I know I'm not," Duncan said.
"Well, you sure don't act like it sometimes," Richie offered a shy grin.
"Never noticed." The silence returned.
"Look, Mac. I know you think I think of you that way and you wouldn't mind if I called you 'dad' everynow and then. . ."
"What makes you so sure of that?" Duncan interrupted.
"Because I know you, and you wouldn't mind. But, I would. . . You remember a couple years ago when I tried to find who I thought was my dad?" Duncan nodded. "Well, it got me thinking. Just because Emily and Jack weren't my real parents, doesn't mean I don't have parents out there somewhere. I know we have some kind of weird family bond here, and to be honest I don't know exactly what role I put you in. But, I do have parents and they're not you and Tessa. For all I know they're either dead, or didn't care enough to stick around to watch me grow up. And I can't help but feel that if I started calling you 'dad' I would be insulting someone; either my real dad because he died and there was nothing he could do about it and I just replaced him, or you. . . because my real dad's scum. And if that's the case, I don't want to put you in the same category as him."
"If he's scum?"
"Yeah. I know it's kinda stupid, but, I just can't."
"Richie, I don't mind, either way," Duncan assured him.
"Okay." Richie turned to leave.
"And Rich?"
"Yeah?"
"If you ever change your mind, you know in a couple hundred years or whenever. . . "
Richie smiled. "I know."
*July 9, 1998*
Richie rolled over and put his arm around Rylan. In the rare silence of the MacLeod household he thought about all the fights and apologies he had had with Duncan over the years. He didn't know why he was thinking about that. . . maybe he was changing his mind about how he felt about Duncan. For some reason he kept hearing Duncan's words echoing in his head, 'I don't mind, either way. . . If you ever change your mind, you know in a couple hundred years or whenever. . .'
"No," Rylan mumbled taking his arm off her and bringing him back to the present. "You're hot."
"Thank you."
"No, I mean you're hot," she clarified sleepily. "Move."
"I know what you mean, but I'm stronger than you so I don't care what you want." He wrapped both arms around her and squeezed.
"Hey!" she squealed.
"Getting a little warm?"
"I will find a way to make your life hell if you don't let me go."
"What are you going to do, tell Connor on me?"
"I just might." She twisted in his arms.
"Not interrupting am I?" Duncan asked. Rylan and Richie stopped fighting and looked at the door. Rylan laughed.
"Does it count as de ja vouis if it really happened?"
"Why not." Richie said sitting up.
"Contemplate it while you get ready, you're leaving in an hour. And everyone wants to say good bye." Duncan said closing the door.
Richie sighed and got out of bed. "I said it before and I'll say it again, four thirty is way too early for a plane to leave."
"I didn't even know that there was a four thirty in the morning until today," Rylan commented watching Richie get dressed.
"Aren't you going to get up?"
"No. I have a theory I want to test out."
"And what is this theory?"
"That if I refuse to say good bye, you'll refuse to leave, then everyone will be happy."
"I think there's one variable you forgot. . . Mac."
"Ugh," she groaned. "You mean I actually have to get up? At three in the morning? Are you serious?"
"If I can do it, you can do it. What do you think?" He held out his arms. He was wearing a blue oxford shirt and khakis.
"Dang, if I didn't know it was you, I wouldn't know it was you. Very GQ," she smirked, "but I still don't like it."
. . . . . .
"Is that it?" Duncan asked loading the last of Richie's bags into the trunk.
"That's it," Richie nodded.
"Well, lad, are we ready?" Connor asked.
"I don't think I'll ever be ready."
"Me either. I'll miss you, Richie." Tessa threw her arms around Richie's neck.
"It'll only be a couple months, Tessa."
"A couple months too long. You always get into trouble when you're away from me."
"Don't worry, Tessa, I'll take good care of the lad," Connor assured her. "No harm will come to him."
"You listen to Connor, or you'll wish that you really had died," Duncan told Richie sternly.
"Mac, I'm not a kid. I can take care of my- - -" Duncan raised his eyebrows. "Yes, sir," Richie said with a smirk.
"I better not hear anything about you getting into trouble with the Watchers," Joe said.
"Okay."
"Keep yourself out of trouble," Amanda said giving him a kiss. "Or at the very least don't get caught," she whispered in his ear.
"Don't piss anyone off, kid," Adam said dryly.
"I'll remember that," Richie laughed.
"See you around, I guess," Rylan said awkwardly.
"Yeah, guess so." He opened his arms slightly and she jumped into them. "Ry, I'll see you soon, I promise," He assured her.
"Watch your head."
"I will. Bye, Ry." He squeezed her one last time before letting go and buried his nose in her hair. . . apples, just like he had expected. Somehow she always smelled like apples.
"Bye, Richie. . . uh, I guess it's Ryan know, huh?"
Richie ran his fingers through his short cropped hair, "Yeah, guess so."
"Time to go," Duncan said. "You don't want to miss the plane, Ryan."
"I suppose not."
. . . . . .
Richie settled into the uncomfortable airline seat. He was only an hour into the flight and he was already going out of his mind. Connor had already fallen asleep in the seat next to him. Richie sighed and looked out the window; he had never been able to sleep on planes. Resigning himself to hours of claustrophobia and more importantly utter boredom, he began digging through his carryon for something to distract himself with. He pulled out his CD player and opened it to see what he had been listening to last. Satisfied, he put on his headphones and hit play. Not one minute into the first song, he started fidgeting. Resisting the urge to scream just for the sake of doing something, he reached into his bag and pulled out what he thought was his copy of Huckleberry Finn.
"Little Women?" He shrugged, "What the hell. . ." He opened it and found a note tucked inside the cover. It was addressed in Rylan's loopy handwriting to simply 'Rich'. Smiling he opened it and read.
'Dear Richie-
I knew you'd cave eventually. I really don't know what to say. But I know what I've said is not enough. I've never been away from you without being able to turn on MTV to see how you were doing. As I'm writing this I can't help but become incredibly sappy, so bare with me. All my life I've felt very lucky to have you around. You've done a lot of things for me over the years and I only wish there was a way for me to pay you back. Unfortunately, I can't write songs or poems or anything pretty like that. But I do know how to write in general so here I go.
Always remember, no matter how many miles away from Seacouver, and no matter how many years from now you may be, you will always be Richie Ryan: named for Emily Ryan, son of Duncan and Tessa MacLeod. The street punk, the inept thief, the amazing boy who became an even more amazing man, the wonderful person that I had the great fortune of spending nearly everyday of my life with. You will always be my best friend, you will always be Richie Ryan, and I will always be you biggest and most loyal fan.
Leaving nothing but love behind, and receiving nothing but love in return. Half a soul here, with the other half there, to be joined again when the time comes.
Guess I do have a bit of a poet in me. Watch your head.
Love, Rylan.'
