AN – OK so this part is a bit longer than I expected – actually a whole chapter longer. Conner really wasn't happy!  One more chapter. (I think!)

***

"Why can't I love you?" Duncan demanded.  "And if you say because so help me I'll .."

"Chop me into little itty bitty pieces?" Richie supplied helpfully.

Duncan looked at him.

"Just for future reference. Giving your opponents ideas about how to maim and torture you? Not a good idea."

"Right." Richie nodded. "Note to self. Don't piss off sword wielding Immortals."

"So ..?" Duncan pressed.

Richie winced. "Let me guess. This is another of those bug me for a hundred years things. Right?"

"Right." Duncan grinned.

"Argh." Richie tried, unsuccessfully, to hide his grin. "You're learning."

"So sue me." Duncan quipped.

"Alright. Already." Richie was laughing now. "I give. OK?"

Duncan bit back a smile. Four hundred years of dealing with people had to give you some advantages.

"You know Mac. Sometimes I don't get you at all."

Or maybe not.

"I mean .." Richie took a breath. "You say you want to be my Dad .. but you act more like you're my best friend or something."

"I can't be your father and your friend?" Duncan asked.

"I wouldn't know." Richie said with a raw honestly that tore at Duncan's heart.

"Then let me show you." Duncan put a hand on the nape of his neck.

"How?" Richie quavered.

Duncan told him.

 ***

The following afternoon, Richie was just counting up the day's receipts when the door chimed and a late customer came in.

"Nice pot." The customer observed. "Is it worth much?"

Richie gave him a sharp look.

"Samian ware." Richie identified correctly. "Probably 2nd Century. See the makers mark? That means this piece is from Italy. Don't get too excited. It was mass produced by the Romans. Their version of Tupperware if you like. But you already knew that."

"I did." Conner Macleod acknowledged. "I wanted to see if you did."

"Yeah. I know.  Not a trick. A test." Richie scowled. "Must be hereditary."

"What?" Conner frowned.

"Mac's not here right now." Richie told him. "But I guess you knew that too."

In answer Conner just shrugged.

They stood there for a minute.

"Well. Aren't you going to invite me in?" Conner quirked a brow.

Richie stared at him for a moment and then gave a shrug of his own.

"You're family. You don't gotta ask."

Wordlessly he led the way towards the kitchen.

Conner watched his retreating back. He hadn't been sure. Now he was convinced. There was no way he could allow Duncan to do this.

***

At the kitchen table Conner watched impassively as the lad warned the teapot and measured out the leaves. Leaving the tea to steep as he looked out a selection of cookies and put them on a plate. Milk went into the cups first and then the light golden tea, leaving Conner to add his own sugar as desired.

Conner eyed the delicate china cup for a moment.

"Or we could just go out the back and rummage in a few dumpsters?" Richie challenged

"Sorry." Conner apologised, as he stirred his tea. There was no need to take it out on the lad. "Civilization is a very recent concept you know." He added, hoping to make amends.

"You should know." Richie shot back. "When you were my age it was considered polite to .."

"I can imagine." Conner interrupted.

He tensed as he felt the familiar wash of an Immortal nearby. It was probably Duncan but ..

"Aw man. Don't tell me." Richie shook his head. "Its probably Mac .."

It was.

"Richie ..?" Duncan's worried voice echoed through the apartment.

"In here cousin." Conner answered in Gaelic. He had no wish to begin this conversation over drawn swords.

"Conner!" Duncan appeared in the doorway, juggling groceries, looking pleased and relieved and hastily stowing the Katana.

"That's who it is." Richie smacked his forehead. "Y'know, I thought I knew him from somewhere, but then he offered me the candy and to show me these cute puppies and I clean forgot to ask if he was a homicidal maniac."

"Funny." Duncan tousled his hair lightly. "Good flight cousin?" he asked innocently.

"We need to talk." Conner said in Gaelic.

"Alright." Duncan answered in English, with a pointed look at Richie. "Just let me put these groceries away and then we'll talk."

"Now." Conner insisted.

"I can do that." Richie took the groceries.

"Thanks, Tough guy." Duncan tried to smile at him. But Richie wouldn't catch his eye.

***

"Alright!" Duncan snapped as soon as they were alone. "What exactly, is your problem?"

"Duncan .." Conner sighed. "You know why you can't do this."

"Richie can take care of himself. He's had to."

"Against Immortals? With swords?" Conner scoffed. "That smart mouth of his is going to talk him into an early grave. The permanent sort."

"Or maybe out of it?" Duncan shot back.

"I could have slew him where he stood and he couldn't have raised a hand against me." Conner stated.

"Oh and Rachel could?" Duncan retorted.

"Its not the same Duncan and you know it." Conner refused to rise to the bait. "Rachel is mortal. Only the most evil of us would see her as a target."

"Richie's not in the Game yet." Duncan hissed.

"Nor should he be." Conner affirmed. "For pity's sake Duncan, find him a nice, normal, foster home until his time comes."

"You told me to watch him." Duncan protested.

"Watch him, not adopt him." Conner pointed out. "This is no piece of paper from the family court that expires when the lad turns eighteen that you are planning."

"So?" Duncan saw nothing wrong in that.

"So, its not the way our kind do things Duncan." Conner reminded him.

"Conner, right now, he's just a sixteen year old boy. He doesn't need an employer, or a social worker or a parole officer. He needs a father."

"Is this about his needs? Or yours?" Conner asked quietly.

The silence hung between them for a long moment.

"Um. Mac?" Richie hovered in the doorway.

"What is it Rich?" Duncan looked up.

"Tess called. You promised to help her bring those pieces back from the showing."

"Oh lord, I forgot." Duncan ran a hand through his hair. "I'll be right there."

Duncan looked at his teacher.

"I'd wish to do this with your blessing Conner. But I will do it without, if I must."

***

"You don't like me much do you?" Richie was leaning on the door jamb.

"I like you well enough." Conner allowed.

"You don't like me living here." Richie stated.

"I don't think it's the safest thing." Conner agreed.

"I haven't said anything." Richie protested. "I gave Mac my word that I wouldn't and I haven't."

Conner blinked. Surprised that the lad would think first of Duncan's safety, rather than his own.

But any retort he might have made was cut off by the familiar wash of an Immortal's presence.

"Maybe Mac forgot something." Richie suggested warily, watching his face.

"Or maybe it isn't him." Conner felt for his sword, and strode through the apartment with Richie at his heels.

It wasn't.

The unfamiliar Immortal waiting in the alley pointed his sword meaningfully in Conner's direction.

"My name is Ian Robbins and you are responsible for the death of my favourite student."

"It seems my business wasn't quite as finished as I thought." Conner murmured apologetically.