Disclaimers: Okay, besides the fact that I don't own HL, I don't own this
story or at least the first section of it. This is based on the story "I
Never Liked Art In High School" by Richiefic. (Who has given me permission
to use it. Thank you!) The first section of this story is taken almost
directly from the first two chapters of her story. I have added and
deleted a few lines here and there to make it fit my plot and style more.
After that it goes into what popped into my head while reading Richiefic's
story.
"Admit it, you didn't expect her to be so young," Duncan smiled.
"Well, when Richie said his old foster mother was coming over I expected someone older," Tessa admitted. "I can't believe her eldest daughter is eighteen, she's not old enough to be Richie's mother."
"I guess she married young," Duncan shrugged. "Richie said she has two other daughters besides Maria."
"Um, guys?" Richie appeared in the doorway of the office. "Teresa has to get going now," he said gesturing to the young woman standing beside him.
"You are welcome to stay longer," Tessa offered.
"Oh. No thank you," Teresa smiled. "The girls are at their Aunt's and I don't want to be too late in picking them up."
"Let me show you out," Duncan offered.
"I got it, Mac," Richie insisted hastily.
"You know," Teresa smiled. "I never could have imagined Richie working in a place like this."
"I never liked art in High School," Richie explained.
"Name one subject you did like," Duncan chuckled.
"Biology," he said with a wicked grin.
Duncan rolled his eyes. "Somehow I knew that."
"You knew Richie in High School?" Teresa frowned.
"No. He knew Richie after he had dropped outta High School because of demented Art teachers and the like," Richie answered. "You ready? I'll go with you to get Maria, Sammie, and Kelli. I'm dying to see them again." He gestured he toward the door.
"So how old were you when you first met Duncan?" Teresa enquired.
"It's only been a few weeks." Richie evaded her question as he led her out of the Antique store. Duncan frowned.
. . . . . .
Duncan was waiting for Richie when he returned from seeing Teresa home. "Teresa and everyone get home safely?"
Richie stopped dead at his casual tone and Duncan bit back a grin. Now he knew something was up and Richie knew that he knew. This could be interesting.
"Yeah. Um, I'm really tired. I think I'll turn in." Richie turned to head towards his room.
"Sure. Just answer me one question first?"
Richie turned back, his hands spread wide. "Mac! Teresa's like my Mom. There's nothing going on there."
Duncan had to give him points for deflection. The lad was good.
"Not that. When we met. It wasn't until tonight that I realized that I've never asked you how old you are. Powell led me to believe that you were seventeen."
"Yeah. Right." Richie nodded. . . a little too enthusiastically. "Night Mac."
"Hold on. Right that you are seventeen or right that I was led to believe it?" Duncan demanded.
"Uh huh," Richie agreed. "See you in the morning."
Duncan made a mental note never to introduce Richie to Amanda.
"Richie, are you or are you not seventeen?" Duncan demanded.
"Yes," Richie protested. "Geez Mac, how many more times?"
Or Fitzcairn.
"Richard Ryan. On ye honor are ye seventeen years old?" Duncan demanded, leaving no room for doubt.
"Um. . . kinda?" Richie offered shakily.
Duncan's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean - 'kinda'?"
"Well my ID says I am 21," Richie shrugged. Duncan glared at him. "What? You think Immortals are the only people who know how to fake stuff?"
"You mean you aren't seventeen?" Duncan asked dryly.
"Everyone is seventeen once Mac, even you." Richie risked a grin.
"Richie," Duncan warned.
"Alright." Richie waved a placating hand. "I wasn't technically seventeen when Powell arrested me, okay?"
"How old were you - technically?"
"I don't know," Richie shrugged. "Well I don't!" he protested at Duncan's disbelieving glare. "It's not like anyone knows exactly when my birthday is or anything."
"It was the 1970's Richie, not the Dark Ages," Duncan pointed out. "People kept records."
"Look I wanted out, okay?"
"Out of what?" Duncan frowned.
"You know. . . the system." Richie waved a hand.
"You forged your records?" Duncan could hardly believe what he was hearing.
"I just changed a few figures," Richie protested. "No biggie."
"Richie. You were a minor. There are laws about minors."
"So once I'm not a minor everything is cool," Richie shrugged.
"Richie, what were you thinking? At eighteen you could go to jail!"
"Yeah well, it was a risk worth taking," Richie shot back bitterly. "At eighteen you are also a free agent."
"How old?" Duncan demanded.
"Does it really matter? Your driver's license says you are 34 but we both know it's just a piece of paper to keep the powers that be happy."
Duncan sighed. He'd already learnt the hard way that when he set his mind to it Richie gave new meaning to the concept of stubborn. He decided to change tactics. "How did you do it?" he asked casually.
"I skipped a grade in Junior High," Richie shrugged. "After a while it was easy to convince people that they'd made the mistake. It wasn't like anyone ever actually expected me to be good at anything."
"You told me you were bright." Duncan chuckled at the understatement.
Richie smiled. "That was a good year. I thought . . ." he shook his head. "It's stupid," he said softly.
"What happened?" Duncan asked gently.
"New social worker." Richie looked away. "There was just me, Teresa, her Mom and the girls. The new lady figured I needed a male role model. So I had to move," he finished bitterly.
"I'm sorry." Duncan said sympathetically. "That must have been hard."
"You think?" Richie scoffed. "Not nearly as hard as when Mr. Male Role Model decided . . ." he stopped.
"Rich?"
"Doesn't matter." Richie turned away.
Duncan stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Richie turned back around but gently shrugged Duncan's hand away. Duncan frowned; it would be a lot easier to get Richie to trust him if he could touch him. "Richie, it matters. If you want to talk . . ."
"Yeah." Richie gave him a shaky smile. "Thanks, Mac. But I really am tired. I think I'll just go to bed now."
"OK," Duncan nodded. "This is pretty late for a sixteen year old to be up on a school night anyway."
"Aw hell." Richie slapped his hand against his forehead when he realized what he had done. "I'll be seventeen in two weeks OK?"
"Uh huh," Duncan nodded. "You could just have told me you know."
Richie suddenly looked weary. "Do I still have a job?"
"Yes, Richie, you still have a job," Duncan reassured him.
"Good." Richie turned around, then stopped. "You're not going to do anything are you?"
"Such as?" Duncan asked.
"With you, Mac, I have no idea," Richie admitted wearily. "Just anything. You know its a lot less hassle for you if I'm eighteen, no social workers or paperwork to bother with."
"Maybe you are worth the bother," Duncan smiled.
"Mac," Richie said warily. "What are you thinking?"
"Go to bed, Rich." Duncan reached out to ruffle his hair, but Richie stepped away. Duncan put his hand back down. "We'll talk about it in the morning." He turned towards his own room.
"You're not, like, going to make me go back to school or anything are you?" Richie called after him.
"We'll talk about it," Duncan called back over his shoulder.
"That's a yes." Richie muttered.
. . . . . .
Richie rubbed his eyes as he wandered into the kitchen. "Morning Tessa," he greeted her as he reached up to get a bowl from the cupboard.
"Good morning Richie." Tessa looked him up and down and clicked her tongue.
"What?" Richie asked looking down at himself trying to find the source of her disapproval.
"It won't do," Tessa sniffed. "It is far from good enough."
"Well, I can go change if you want, but you bought me this shirt," Richie pointed out.
"Not your clothes." Tessa rolled her eyes as if such a topic had never occurred to her before, rather than being the cause of heated debate in recent weeks. "Those people. You are so thin, and pale, and not so tall," she said looking the gangly mop-top boy up and down.
"You know, I have self-image issues as it is," Richie complained.
"How could they not see that you are just a boy?" Tessa demanded.
"Ah," Richie winced. "Mac told you."
"Yes, Duncan told me," Tessa replied, taking the bowl out of his hands. "I cannot imagine why you would do such a foolish thing, Richie. You know what would happen if you were caught and tried as an adult?"
"Um. . . Tess?" Richie gestured to the bowl that she was putting back in the cupboard. "I was going to have cereal."
"I will make you a proper breakfast." Tessa decided. "You should not be eating that stuff, it is nothing but sugar."
"Okaay." Richie drawled raising a brow. "Can I at least have some coffee while I'm waiting?"
Tessa frowned as she opened the refrigerator. "Caffeine is really not so good for you, you know. It stunts your growth. Why don't you have some juice instead?"
"Cigs can kill you, but you smoke them," Richie said defensively leaning on the counter.
Tessa shook her head. "That's different. I'm trying to give up and besides, I'm .."
"Older than me?" Richie crossed his arms. "I was old enough to have coffee yesterday. Today. . . I'm a day older."
Tessa looked up at him. "I'm being ridiculous aren't I?" she smiled.
"Actually," Richie smiled back. "I think it's kind of nice. Just so long as you've stopped now. You have stopped now, right?"
"Well," Tessa's eyes twinkled, "Why don't you put on the coffee and I'll make us all a nice breakfast?"
"That's a deal," Richie grinned. "Pancakes?" he asked hopefully.
"With blueberries," she assured him.
. . . . . .
"You want to do what?" Richie hastily swallowed his mouthful of pancake.
"Tessa and I talked about it last night and we decided we wanted to register as your foster parents," Duncan repeated.
"We will go to the judge and we will sign the papers and make it all legal," Tessa smiled.
"But you guys would have to be married," Richie pointed out.
"Not necessarily," Duncan contradicted. "When its an older child, or some one who has. . . had trouble settling. . . in the past. They are generally more flexible."
"Besides, we have a very good lawyer," Tessa put in.
"You know the paperwork alone takes forever." Richie shook his head. "I'd probably be 18 before they got it all sorted out."
"I've had a little practice with paperwork," Duncan smiled. "I'm sure it won't be a problem."
"You think?" Richie scowled. "You have no idea how much of it there is. You would have to build a whole new room onto this place just to have somewhere to put it all."
"Maybe we could put in another bathroom at the same time," Tessa suggested.
"Another one?" Duncan rolled his eyes. "We already have three."
"The shower in the living room doesn't count." She paused. "Except on very special occasions."
"Um. If you guys want to .. you know .. we can continue this some other time." Richie started to stand up.
"Sit down, Rich," Duncan laughed. "I'm sure we can contain ourselves for a few minutes."
"Surely we are not that bad," Tessa added.
"Do you want my honest opinion?" Richie smirked.
"No!" Tessa and Duncan chorused.
"Seriously, Richie." Duncan got back to the topic in hand. "It's not so different to what we were going to do before. You living here and working in the store. Except you could get your motorcycle license, maybe even graduate."
"I could do all those things anyway. You could just make me the papers." Richie looked at Duncan.
"But this way it would be legal."
"And no one will be able to take you away from us," Tessa added softly.
"You couldn't do it." Richie shook his head. "It would be too dangerous."
"I don't know," Duncan teased. "You've only broken one vase so far and we can always up the insurance."
"Not for me, for you. They come to the house, you know." Richie waved his fork. "What if someone like Slan drops in unannounced?"
"Things aren't usually that dramatic," Duncan sighed. "Most challengers will agree a less public time and place. It's not really in anyone's best interest to attract attention."
"Exactly," Richie nodded. "You'd have to answer this whole barrage of questions about your favorite childhood games and stuff. I don't think playing hunt the Haggis is going to cut it, do you?"
"You do know that a Haggis isn't a real creature don't you?" Duncan quirked a brow. Richie scowled. "Just checking." Duncan smirked.
"It isn't?" Tessa frowned.
"Nope," Duncan started to nibble on her ear.
"And they send people around to check up on you without warning," Richie cut in. "What if you were . . . otherwise engaged?"
"Not in the middle of the day." Tessa objected loftily.
"Well. Not very often anyway." Duncan amended with a grin. "Relax Richie. Whatever the problems are we will sort them out together. As a family."
"That is what you want, isn't it?" Tessa enquired gently. Richie looked down at his plate.
"Rich?" Duncan sat up a bit straighter. "Hey. C'mon Tough Guy, say something."
"No," Richie said quietly. "I don't want you to do this. Please. Just. . .don't. Okay?"
"Admit it, you didn't expect her to be so young," Duncan smiled.
"Well, when Richie said his old foster mother was coming over I expected someone older," Tessa admitted. "I can't believe her eldest daughter is eighteen, she's not old enough to be Richie's mother."
"I guess she married young," Duncan shrugged. "Richie said she has two other daughters besides Maria."
"Um, guys?" Richie appeared in the doorway of the office. "Teresa has to get going now," he said gesturing to the young woman standing beside him.
"You are welcome to stay longer," Tessa offered.
"Oh. No thank you," Teresa smiled. "The girls are at their Aunt's and I don't want to be too late in picking them up."
"Let me show you out," Duncan offered.
"I got it, Mac," Richie insisted hastily.
"You know," Teresa smiled. "I never could have imagined Richie working in a place like this."
"I never liked art in High School," Richie explained.
"Name one subject you did like," Duncan chuckled.
"Biology," he said with a wicked grin.
Duncan rolled his eyes. "Somehow I knew that."
"You knew Richie in High School?" Teresa frowned.
"No. He knew Richie after he had dropped outta High School because of demented Art teachers and the like," Richie answered. "You ready? I'll go with you to get Maria, Sammie, and Kelli. I'm dying to see them again." He gestured he toward the door.
"So how old were you when you first met Duncan?" Teresa enquired.
"It's only been a few weeks." Richie evaded her question as he led her out of the Antique store. Duncan frowned.
. . . . . .
Duncan was waiting for Richie when he returned from seeing Teresa home. "Teresa and everyone get home safely?"
Richie stopped dead at his casual tone and Duncan bit back a grin. Now he knew something was up and Richie knew that he knew. This could be interesting.
"Yeah. Um, I'm really tired. I think I'll turn in." Richie turned to head towards his room.
"Sure. Just answer me one question first?"
Richie turned back, his hands spread wide. "Mac! Teresa's like my Mom. There's nothing going on there."
Duncan had to give him points for deflection. The lad was good.
"Not that. When we met. It wasn't until tonight that I realized that I've never asked you how old you are. Powell led me to believe that you were seventeen."
"Yeah. Right." Richie nodded. . . a little too enthusiastically. "Night Mac."
"Hold on. Right that you are seventeen or right that I was led to believe it?" Duncan demanded.
"Uh huh," Richie agreed. "See you in the morning."
Duncan made a mental note never to introduce Richie to Amanda.
"Richie, are you or are you not seventeen?" Duncan demanded.
"Yes," Richie protested. "Geez Mac, how many more times?"
Or Fitzcairn.
"Richard Ryan. On ye honor are ye seventeen years old?" Duncan demanded, leaving no room for doubt.
"Um. . . kinda?" Richie offered shakily.
Duncan's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean - 'kinda'?"
"Well my ID says I am 21," Richie shrugged. Duncan glared at him. "What? You think Immortals are the only people who know how to fake stuff?"
"You mean you aren't seventeen?" Duncan asked dryly.
"Everyone is seventeen once Mac, even you." Richie risked a grin.
"Richie," Duncan warned.
"Alright." Richie waved a placating hand. "I wasn't technically seventeen when Powell arrested me, okay?"
"How old were you - technically?"
"I don't know," Richie shrugged. "Well I don't!" he protested at Duncan's disbelieving glare. "It's not like anyone knows exactly when my birthday is or anything."
"It was the 1970's Richie, not the Dark Ages," Duncan pointed out. "People kept records."
"Look I wanted out, okay?"
"Out of what?" Duncan frowned.
"You know. . . the system." Richie waved a hand.
"You forged your records?" Duncan could hardly believe what he was hearing.
"I just changed a few figures," Richie protested. "No biggie."
"Richie. You were a minor. There are laws about minors."
"So once I'm not a minor everything is cool," Richie shrugged.
"Richie, what were you thinking? At eighteen you could go to jail!"
"Yeah well, it was a risk worth taking," Richie shot back bitterly. "At eighteen you are also a free agent."
"How old?" Duncan demanded.
"Does it really matter? Your driver's license says you are 34 but we both know it's just a piece of paper to keep the powers that be happy."
Duncan sighed. He'd already learnt the hard way that when he set his mind to it Richie gave new meaning to the concept of stubborn. He decided to change tactics. "How did you do it?" he asked casually.
"I skipped a grade in Junior High," Richie shrugged. "After a while it was easy to convince people that they'd made the mistake. It wasn't like anyone ever actually expected me to be good at anything."
"You told me you were bright." Duncan chuckled at the understatement.
Richie smiled. "That was a good year. I thought . . ." he shook his head. "It's stupid," he said softly.
"What happened?" Duncan asked gently.
"New social worker." Richie looked away. "There was just me, Teresa, her Mom and the girls. The new lady figured I needed a male role model. So I had to move," he finished bitterly.
"I'm sorry." Duncan said sympathetically. "That must have been hard."
"You think?" Richie scoffed. "Not nearly as hard as when Mr. Male Role Model decided . . ." he stopped.
"Rich?"
"Doesn't matter." Richie turned away.
Duncan stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Richie turned back around but gently shrugged Duncan's hand away. Duncan frowned; it would be a lot easier to get Richie to trust him if he could touch him. "Richie, it matters. If you want to talk . . ."
"Yeah." Richie gave him a shaky smile. "Thanks, Mac. But I really am tired. I think I'll just go to bed now."
"OK," Duncan nodded. "This is pretty late for a sixteen year old to be up on a school night anyway."
"Aw hell." Richie slapped his hand against his forehead when he realized what he had done. "I'll be seventeen in two weeks OK?"
"Uh huh," Duncan nodded. "You could just have told me you know."
Richie suddenly looked weary. "Do I still have a job?"
"Yes, Richie, you still have a job," Duncan reassured him.
"Good." Richie turned around, then stopped. "You're not going to do anything are you?"
"Such as?" Duncan asked.
"With you, Mac, I have no idea," Richie admitted wearily. "Just anything. You know its a lot less hassle for you if I'm eighteen, no social workers or paperwork to bother with."
"Maybe you are worth the bother," Duncan smiled.
"Mac," Richie said warily. "What are you thinking?"
"Go to bed, Rich." Duncan reached out to ruffle his hair, but Richie stepped away. Duncan put his hand back down. "We'll talk about it in the morning." He turned towards his own room.
"You're not, like, going to make me go back to school or anything are you?" Richie called after him.
"We'll talk about it," Duncan called back over his shoulder.
"That's a yes." Richie muttered.
. . . . . .
Richie rubbed his eyes as he wandered into the kitchen. "Morning Tessa," he greeted her as he reached up to get a bowl from the cupboard.
"Good morning Richie." Tessa looked him up and down and clicked her tongue.
"What?" Richie asked looking down at himself trying to find the source of her disapproval.
"It won't do," Tessa sniffed. "It is far from good enough."
"Well, I can go change if you want, but you bought me this shirt," Richie pointed out.
"Not your clothes." Tessa rolled her eyes as if such a topic had never occurred to her before, rather than being the cause of heated debate in recent weeks. "Those people. You are so thin, and pale, and not so tall," she said looking the gangly mop-top boy up and down.
"You know, I have self-image issues as it is," Richie complained.
"How could they not see that you are just a boy?" Tessa demanded.
"Ah," Richie winced. "Mac told you."
"Yes, Duncan told me," Tessa replied, taking the bowl out of his hands. "I cannot imagine why you would do such a foolish thing, Richie. You know what would happen if you were caught and tried as an adult?"
"Um. . . Tess?" Richie gestured to the bowl that she was putting back in the cupboard. "I was going to have cereal."
"I will make you a proper breakfast." Tessa decided. "You should not be eating that stuff, it is nothing but sugar."
"Okaay." Richie drawled raising a brow. "Can I at least have some coffee while I'm waiting?"
Tessa frowned as she opened the refrigerator. "Caffeine is really not so good for you, you know. It stunts your growth. Why don't you have some juice instead?"
"Cigs can kill you, but you smoke them," Richie said defensively leaning on the counter.
Tessa shook her head. "That's different. I'm trying to give up and besides, I'm .."
"Older than me?" Richie crossed his arms. "I was old enough to have coffee yesterday. Today. . . I'm a day older."
Tessa looked up at him. "I'm being ridiculous aren't I?" she smiled.
"Actually," Richie smiled back. "I think it's kind of nice. Just so long as you've stopped now. You have stopped now, right?"
"Well," Tessa's eyes twinkled, "Why don't you put on the coffee and I'll make us all a nice breakfast?"
"That's a deal," Richie grinned. "Pancakes?" he asked hopefully.
"With blueberries," she assured him.
. . . . . .
"You want to do what?" Richie hastily swallowed his mouthful of pancake.
"Tessa and I talked about it last night and we decided we wanted to register as your foster parents," Duncan repeated.
"We will go to the judge and we will sign the papers and make it all legal," Tessa smiled.
"But you guys would have to be married," Richie pointed out.
"Not necessarily," Duncan contradicted. "When its an older child, or some one who has. . . had trouble settling. . . in the past. They are generally more flexible."
"Besides, we have a very good lawyer," Tessa put in.
"You know the paperwork alone takes forever." Richie shook his head. "I'd probably be 18 before they got it all sorted out."
"I've had a little practice with paperwork," Duncan smiled. "I'm sure it won't be a problem."
"You think?" Richie scowled. "You have no idea how much of it there is. You would have to build a whole new room onto this place just to have somewhere to put it all."
"Maybe we could put in another bathroom at the same time," Tessa suggested.
"Another one?" Duncan rolled his eyes. "We already have three."
"The shower in the living room doesn't count." She paused. "Except on very special occasions."
"Um. If you guys want to .. you know .. we can continue this some other time." Richie started to stand up.
"Sit down, Rich," Duncan laughed. "I'm sure we can contain ourselves for a few minutes."
"Surely we are not that bad," Tessa added.
"Do you want my honest opinion?" Richie smirked.
"No!" Tessa and Duncan chorused.
"Seriously, Richie." Duncan got back to the topic in hand. "It's not so different to what we were going to do before. You living here and working in the store. Except you could get your motorcycle license, maybe even graduate."
"I could do all those things anyway. You could just make me the papers." Richie looked at Duncan.
"But this way it would be legal."
"And no one will be able to take you away from us," Tessa added softly.
"You couldn't do it." Richie shook his head. "It would be too dangerous."
"I don't know," Duncan teased. "You've only broken one vase so far and we can always up the insurance."
"Not for me, for you. They come to the house, you know." Richie waved his fork. "What if someone like Slan drops in unannounced?"
"Things aren't usually that dramatic," Duncan sighed. "Most challengers will agree a less public time and place. It's not really in anyone's best interest to attract attention."
"Exactly," Richie nodded. "You'd have to answer this whole barrage of questions about your favorite childhood games and stuff. I don't think playing hunt the Haggis is going to cut it, do you?"
"You do know that a Haggis isn't a real creature don't you?" Duncan quirked a brow. Richie scowled. "Just checking." Duncan smirked.
"It isn't?" Tessa frowned.
"Nope," Duncan started to nibble on her ear.
"And they send people around to check up on you without warning," Richie cut in. "What if you were . . . otherwise engaged?"
"Not in the middle of the day." Tessa objected loftily.
"Well. Not very often anyway." Duncan amended with a grin. "Relax Richie. Whatever the problems are we will sort them out together. As a family."
"That is what you want, isn't it?" Tessa enquired gently. Richie looked down at his plate.
"Rich?" Duncan sat up a bit straighter. "Hey. C'mon Tough Guy, say something."
"No," Richie said quietly. "I don't want you to do this. Please. Just. . .don't. Okay?"
