"You could just tell me." Richie stuffed another piece of steak into his mouth.
"What?" Methos looked up and smirked. Again.
"Will you stop that." Richie protested. "I mean I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything but you chose this."
"Is it my fault that the gift shop had nothing in your size but a sweatshirt that says "My friends went to Seacouver and all they bought me was this lousy .." Methos was grinning.
"I know what it says." Richie growled. "Just. Stop it. OK?" he put down his fork, blinking aginst the sudden stinging in his eyes.
"I'm sorry." Methos' tone was full of sympathy "You look like you. You sound like you. I keep forgetting that you aren't really you right now. You don't usually mind."
"It's just.. Right now you are the only friend I have and .." Richie swallowed.
"It would help if I was a little bit less of a git" Methos offered.
"Yeah." Richie laughed in spite of himself. "Hey. Who knows. You might even like me."
"I already like you." Methos frowned. "What on earth made you think I didn't?"
"Um. Everything about you?" Richie pointed out.
"Riche, you are irritating, sarcastic and annoying. What's not to like?"
"Excuse me?" Richie scowled.
"OK." Methos sighed. "What I am trying to say is I do like you. A lot. You don't fall over your feet in awe at the fact that I'm five thousand years old. You butt heads with Macleod on a regular basis. Its only a matter of time before you get Amanda into bed. You may not be that old but most of the time you give as good as you get."
"I do?" Richie suddenly sounded oddly vulnerable and Methos gained a new respect for how hard Macleod must have worked to win the kid's trust. It felt strange to be on the other side of that wall.
"Yes you do." Methos assured him. "You've had some pretty rough times in your life, but you've overcome them, and you still manage to be one of the good guys.
Frankly, I admire that." He sighed. "It isn't always easy to hold on to who you want to be."
"Thanks." Richie smiled shyly.
"You're welcome." Methos stifled an impulse to reach out and ruffle the kid's hair. Oh Lord, I'm turning into Macleod.
"Except, I don't seem to be doing so well at that right now." Richie pushed his food around.
"We'll sort it out." Methos assured him.
"So why can't you?" Richie demanded, chewing on another piece of steak.
"There are very few things I can't do." Methos informed him loftily. "Which one did you have in mind?"
Richie shook his head. "Why can't you just tell me? You obviously know me. So you tell me what I need to know. Problem solved."
"I don't think that would be a very good idea."
"Why not?"
"Because I have no idea what that might do to you."
"What?" Richie regarded him suspiciously.
"I don't know alright?" Methos protested. "I just think .."
"Think out loud." Richie suggested darkly.
"I think, maybe, that Saul's Quickening was too strong for you." Methos admitted. "I mean, you've taken some pretty strong Quickenings in the past. But not that many. And none of them were as old as Saul. Or as active in the Game. When you took his head I think the power of his Quickening interfered with the synapses in your brain and overloaded them."
"You mean I got a short circuit and the trip switch cut out?" Richie asked.
"Something like that. If I just tell you .." Methos shrugged. "I really think it would be better if you remember on your own."
"I guess I have time to wait." Richie threw down his fork. "Like a few centuries!"
"Richie .."
"I don't get it." Richie surged to his feet. "Why don't I remember anything important?"
"What do you remember?" Methos asked curious.
"Dur. English?" Richie gave him a look that would turn milk sour.
"Anything else?" Methos refused to be baited. "Any other languages?"
Richie sank down on the couch. "French. Pretty fluent actually. And Polish."
"Polish?" Methos blinked.
"Pretty much bi-lingual." Richie admitted.
Methos curbed his curiosity. That was a story for another day. "Anything else?"
"Oh. I have lots of skills." Richie scoffed. " I can ride a motorcycle."
"You were a pro on the race circuit. Pretty good actually."
"Really?" Richie looked pleased. "Thanks."
"Until you got killed." Methos smirked. Then held up a hand. "Sorry. Force of habit."
"Thanks." Richie threw a pillow at him. "I can scale tall buildings." He arched a brow as if expecting Methos to refute this.
"Second level entry B and E." Methos supplied. "You got arrested when you were fourteen."
"Does that also explain why I can pick locks and hot wire engines?" Richie asked.
"You've been busy over the last few days." Methos observed.
"What, you think I walked back here?" Richie scoffed.
"Why did you come back to Seacouver?" Methos asked. "I mean. You didn't know you lived here. You could have gone anywhere."
"I don't know." Richie admitted quietly. "It just felt .. right."
"It was." Methos affirmed, suddenly seized with the urge to do something. "You need a coat."
"I do?" Richie looked at him. "Where are we going?"
"To meet a lady friend." Methos informed him.
"I'm amnesic, not ten." Richie protested. "You can leave me without a sitter. I don't want to come on your hot date."
"Its not a hot date." Methos insisted. "She might be able to help."
"Really?" Richie perked up. "In that case, I want something cool. You know. Maybe in leather ..?"
Methos looked at the set of his jaw and just knew this was one fight he wasn't going to win. "Of all the times to pick to be a teenager. Alright. You can wear this." He tossed Richie his coat. "And people wonder why I always wear baggy sweaters." He muttered as he struggled to hide his sword.
"How long have you know this .. lady friend." Richie smirked as he shrugged into the coat.
"Amanda?" Methos counted. "A few centuries."
"Cool." Richie nodded. "Do you think she will have a friend?"
