"I suppose I should be glad he didn't manage any more breakfast." Methos threw the last paper towel in the refuge sack and tied the top tightly.

"He hasn't been eating?" Joe looked surprised. "That's not like Richie."

Methos looked over at the restless figure on the bed. "He hasn't been sleeping well either."

"Are you going to say it now, or are you going to save it up until later?" Joe sighed.

Methos look up. "What?"

"I told you so?" Joe reminded him.

"Oh. Later." Methos gave him a tight smile. "When I can really enjoy it."

"Gee. Thanks." Joe said sarcastically. "I never knew Richie had been abused like that." He added sadly.

"That's because he wasn't." Methos pointed out.

"What? But .." Joe stopped as the sound of soft, but fervent swearing came from the direction of the bed.

"I think our patient is awake." Methos observed.

"Rich?" Joe hurried over to the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Way better than I'd like to." Richie replied, without opening his eyes.

"What?" Joe was confused.

"I think he means it hurts." Methos explained, as he sat on the other side of the bed and applied a cool cloth to Richie's forehead.

Very carefully Richie turned his head and opened his eyes a crack to peer at the Immortal.

"Please tell me that was one of the other guy's memories?" Richie tried to smile.

"That was one of the other guys memories." Methos said obligingly.

"Really?" Richie looked hopeful.

"Really. You don't have any scars."

"Oh. Cool." Richie looked relieved. Then he frowned. "Hey that sucks. I can remember the other guy's tormented past but I can't remember the last time I has sex."

"Joe can probably tell you." Methos smirked.

"Hey, I'm a Watcher. Not a Voyeur." Joe protested.

"Doesn't matter." Richie sighed. "I don't think I could stand the excitement right now."

"Still bad?" Methos asked.

"Actually, worse." Richie admitted, with a tight smile that told Methos he really was hurting.

Methos looked down at the pale, drawn, face and came to a decision.

"Its no good. You can't go on like this." Methos looked at Joe.. "We have to kill him."

"Oh for God's sake." Joe fumed. "That's pretty damn cold, even for a calculating son of a bitch like you. Its not like he is incapacitated or anything. He can always make new memories."

"He doesn't mean permanently Joe." Moving very carefully, Richie sat up. "You don't mean that right?"

"Of course not." Methos glared at Joe. "But there's just a chance that when the Quickening heals the wound, it will sort out everything else as well."

"Kinda like hitting the reset button." Richie agreed.

"I guess it might work." Joe didn't look convinced.

"What?" Methos sighed.

"Well, if you hit the reset button, don't you loose any unsaved information?" Joe frowned.

"Meaning?" Richie scowled.

"Meaning, you might forgot what you already know." Methos admitted uncomfortably.

"Oh." Richie thought about that. "What's behind door number two?"

Methos considered that "Your head might explode."

"I'm guessing we don't heal from that huh?" Richie winced.

"Not usually."

Richie thought about it for a minute. "Do it." He decided.

"Are you sure?" Joe asked. "You don't have to."

"Just do it OK?" Richie insisted.

***

Except it wasn't nearly as simple as that.

"I could just shoot him." Joe suggested.

"Oh yeah. Gun shots." Richie nodded "That will go down real well in a Ritzy place like this."

"Not to mention all that blood on the sheets." Methos added.

"Um. Guys. If we are going to do this. Can we please get it over with?" Richie asked plaintively.

"Rich?" Joe looked closely at him. "What's the matter?"

"What's the matter?" Richie repeated incredulously. "You guys are standing there talking about offing me and you want to know what's the matter?"

"But you're Immortal. You'll come back." Joe said reasonably.

"Yeah. Well. It still hurts." Richie protested. "Besides .." He picked at the blanket.

"There's always that nagging doubt that this time it might not work?" Methos added.

"You too?" Richie looked up in surprise.

"Pretty much all of us, I think." Methos shrugged.

"Really?" Joe looked amazed. "I never thought. I mean you guys die so much more often than regular people."

"Trust me." Methos sighed. "Its not exactly the kind of thing that gets easier with practise."

"OK." Joe considered. "Well then. You could stab him with your dagger."

"That's not a good idea." Methos shook his head.

"Why not?  Its quick. Its quiet and if you do it straight through the heart there'll be almost no blood. We can always do it in the bathroom."

"Well, if you think its so easy you do it." Methos snapped.

"You have a problem with this." Joe realised. "You have a problem with killing him."

"God, Joe. What kind of a monster to you think I am?" Methos challenged. "You are asking me to look a friend in the eyes and murder him in cold blood. Of course I have a problem with it!"

 "So, what are we going to do?" Joe wanted to know.

"I could do it myself." Richie said quietly.

"No." Methos put a hand on his shoulder. "No one expects you to do that."

"Well. We have to do .."

Before he had finished the sentence Methos had neatly snapped Richie's neck.

"You .. you .. manipulative …" Joe spluttered. "What the hell was that ..?"

"Joe. There's no good way to die. But its always better if you don't see it coming."

***

Richie woke to find two pairs of eyes staring down at him.

"Well?" Joe asked eagerly. "Did it work?"

"I died didn't I?" Richie sniped, looking sourly at Methos.

"Well, at least we know you remember something." Methos shrugged.

"Thanks so much." Richie sat up. "Hey, my head doesn't hurt and the room stayed still."

"Your colour is better." Methos observed, reaching out to check Richie's pupils. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Richie showed him.

"I think he's OK." Joe smiled.

"You didn't do much math in High School either did you?" Methos smiled.

"Is there anything to eat around here?" Richie looked around. "I feel like I haven't eaten in days."

"You probably haven't." Methos dug out the room service menu.

Joe watched indulgently as Richie picked up the phone and started running off an order as long as his arm.

"Looks to me like he's back to normal." Joe beamed.

"Hey, you guys want anything?" Richie asked, before he hung up.

"Except for one small, important detail." Methos sighed.

"What?" Joe demanded.

"He still doesn't remember anything from before."

"How do you know?"

"He just ordered his pizza with anchovies."

"Oh." Joe looked disappointed. "Now what are we going to do?"

"I have an idea."

***

"This is a joke right?" Richie scowled at himself in the mirror.

"No it's a disguise." Methos corrected.

"This is not a disguise. This is a baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses. You'd have to be an idiot not to recognise me like this."

"Now he realises." Methos sighed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Richie narrowed his eyes. "Never mind. I don't want to know. Tell me again why I need a disguise?"

"Because we are going to steal a very expensive sword." Methos pointed out. "The last thing we need is some helpful neighbour giving your description to the police."

"The police? In that neighbourhood?" Joe raised a brow.

"They like Macleod. The man just can't resist helping."

"So leave Richie here." Joe waved a hand. "I'll keep him company."

"I can't." Methos shook his head.

"Why not?" Joe demanded. "He'll be perfectly safe. If anyone comes I'll just shoot them."

"Remind me not to order room service." Richie murmured.

"I meant Immortals." Joe rolled his eyes.

"I can't leave him here because he installed Macleod's security system as well, all right?" Methos snapped. "I need his help."

"In 5000 years you've never learnt to trip an alarm?" Richie's lips quirked.

"Some of us had lives to lead." Methos scowled, checking his text messages. "OK. We're all set. Amanda will keep Mac busy for at least an hour or two."

"I just bet she will." Joe smirked.

"What else can't you do?" Richie was curious.

"Are you ready?" Methos demanded.

"What about tap dancing? Can you do that?" Richie asked with a grin.

"I'm leaving now." Methos pointed out. "Come on Joe."

"Or Water ski-ing? Have you ever tried that?" Richie followed them out the door.

***

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this." Joe hissed.

"You volunteered." Methos reminded him.

"I'm doing this for Richie's sake. Not yours. When Macleod turns your guts into kebabs I'll be right there handing him the ketchup."

"OK. We're in." Richie looked up. "Tell me again why you guys don't have the code for this?"

"Mac got fed up of Methos coming over to steal his beer." Joe chortled.

"At least I didn't just forget!"

"You forgot the code?" Richie laughed.

"So sue me." Joe grumbled.

"So where is it?" Richie looked around.

"Oh no. You stay here." Methos commanded. "If I take you upstairs your brain might start leaking out of your ears again and we don't have time to clear up the mess."

"Gee thanks for caring." Richie grinned at him.

"Anytime." Methos smiled. "Joe stay with him."

"Anyone would think he was your Dad." Joe muttered.

"More like a anarchical Uncle." Richie grinned. "The kind that don't care if you eat too much sugar and watch TV all day."

"It just doesn't seem like him. That's all." Joe admitted uncomfortably.

"Maybe you don't know him as well as you think." Richie wandered over to look at the weight bench.

"Don't touch anything." Joe said automatically. "Why would you say that?"

"Well. Think about it. How many people has he been over five thousand years. How many lives has he lived? How many of those have you seen? Who's to say which one is "like him?"

"I guess I never thought of it like that." Joe smiled. "When did you get to be so smart huh?"

"You're asking me .." Richie began, then stilled.

 "Oh no .." Joe realised. "Please don't tell me.."

The sound of feet thundering down the stairs confirmed his suspicions.

"The next time I see Amanda .." Methos fumed.

"Maybe its not Macleod." Joe suggested.

"Do you want to take a bet on that?"

"She tricked us." Joe realised.

"Of course, she tricked us." Methos said acidly. "She's Amanda."

"Wait." Richie slid to a stop. "Did you get it?"

"Yes. Yes. I got it. Come on"

"You're lying." Richie didn't move. "Amanda wouldn't have set this up, just to leave the sword lying somewhere in the open. She'd have hidden it somewhere to make sure we hung around until they got back."

"Alright. I don't have it." Methos admitted. "But this is not the time."

"I'm not leaving without it." Richie insisted, looking around. "What's the last place you'd look?"

"The men's locker room?" Methos sniped. "Richie we don't have time for this."

"Too obvious." Richie dismissed that. "It would have to be somewhere that it would never occur to you to look."

"Richie. Maybe this isn't such a good idea." Joe hedged.

"The office." Richie realised. Looking through the glass window to the sword brackets on the wall.

"Well I'll be .." Joe breathed. "If you want to hide something leave it in plain sight."

There, hanging on the wall, was Richie's sword.

"Quick. Grab it and let's get out of here." Joe ordered.

"Too late." Methos closed his eyes.

The door to the Dojo flung open and a black coated figure strode determinedly through, katana raised in challenge.

Duncan Macleod had had a terrible week and he wasn't in the mood for uninvited guests.

"I'm Duncan Macleod of the Clan Macleod. And you are .." Duncan paused and looked closely at the frozen figure gazing at the sword. "Richie?"