AN – OK more shameless self promotion. Thanks to Southern Chickie, Spike's Girl and Shady Lady for the rave reviews of I never liked Art. Your support all the way helped me keep writing – this looks easy when other people do it, but its not easy! I'm sorry this has taken so long to update that even I had to go back and re-read it! I'll try to do better.
***
The ride in the elevator was uncomfortably silent. Richie kept looking between Duncan and Methos, who looked anywhere but at each other. Joe looked at the floor.
"Easy." Duncan reached out a hand and steadied Richie as the kid swayed slightly.
"Altitude sickness." Richie quipped.
"I think." Duncan opened the gate and steered Richie firmly towards the couch. "It has more to do with not eating or sleeping .."
"Not to mention exceeding Red Cross guidelines for blood donation." Methos murmured.
"Maac." Richie protested as he was settled onto the couch.
"Humour me." Duncan instructed. He looked over his shoulder. Joe would have a problem managing. That really left him only one choice.
"Could you get me a bowl of warm water, and a cloth, please?" he asked Methos tightly.
"You are not giving me a sponge bath." Richie said darkly.
"It wouldn't be the first time." Duncan smiled tiredly.
"Here." Methos offered him the cloth and the bowl. "I would have put a slice of lemon in it. But Macleod seems to be out."
Richie looked at the bowl.
"Rich. Just wash your hands, OK?" Duncan sighed. "You can have a shower just as soon as you've mastered standing up. Frankly, I don't think you can take any more knocks to the head, right now."
"You need to wash up before dinner Rich." Joe encouraged.
"Dinner?" Richie looked hopefully at Macleod.
"Coming right up." Duncan reached out and tousled his hair. "You stay put."
"Where would I go?" Richie wondered. "I don't even know where I live."
***
"Something on your mind Joe?" Duncan asked, without looking up from where he was rummaging in the freezer.
"Well. I wasn't going to mention it .." Joe broke off as Duncan pulled out a Tupperware box. "Leftovers? You spent the last week thinking he was dead and now you're feeding him leftovers?"
"Emergency supplies." Duncan corrected. "This sauce takes two hours from scratch. I always try to keep some in. A hungry teenager is not a nice thing."
"He's not a teenager any more." Joe pointed out.
Duncan gave him an odd look. "Yeah. Well. Old habits." He put the container in the Microwave. "You were saying ..?"
"Its probably nothing." Joe looked awkward.
"Then it won't matter if you mention it, will it?" Duncan gave him his full attention.
"What do you know about Saul?" Joe asked.
"I know his reputation." Duncan studied Joe's expression. "He's one of the ancient Immortals. Greece. Rome. A soldier. Born to the sword. Why don't you tell me what you know?"
"Didn't you ever wonder why I was so sure that Richie was dead?" Joe asked.
"Saul is a lot older than Richie." Duncan said carefully.
"C'mon Mac. This is me. I've seen you two train. You don't hold back. You've given that kid every possible advantage."
"Richie's a good student." Duncan pointed out.
"And you're a damn fine teacher. Because you love him and you want him to survive." Joe shook his head. "Of course, he was good enough to take Saul."
"So what happened?" Duncan asked coldly.
"Halfway through the fight .." Joe looked away. "Saul pulled a stiletto blade and pierced Richie through the heart."
"He died?" Duncan straightened. "So why not take his head?"
"I wish I knew." Joe admitted.
***
"Something on your mind?" Methos asked, as he fell onto the couch beside Richie.
"Not much actually." Richie sighed.
"Now. Now. Don't be negative." Methos scolded. "Think of all the things you've learnt over the last few days."
"Yeah." Richie scowled at him. "I've learnt that you can be a real pain in the .."
"I think someone needs another nap." Methos observed loftily.
"You know, I think I'm going to enjoy watching Mac chop you up into teeny, tiny, chunks for holding out on him." Richie smirked.
"You've slipped into that awfully easily." Methos observed.
"Huh?" Richie looked blankly at him.
"Do you even realise that you are doing it?" Methos enquired.
"Doing what?"
"You don't, do you?"
"Of course I don't. Cos you're not telling me."
"You've been calling him Mac. Ever since downstairs."
"Oh." Richie realised. "It was remembering the girl I think. On the beach."
"Felicia?"
"Yeah. I called him Mac then." He hesitated.
"And?" Methos nudged him.
"Duncan just didn't seem .. normal." Richie admitted awkwardly.
"I'd have to agree with you there." Methos smirked.
***
Richie fell asleep before dinner was ready, resting his head on Methos' shoulder, seriously impinging his access to the fridge.
"Here." Duncan offered him a beer.
"Is this a peace offering?" Methos raised a brow.
"No. It's a beer." Duncan told him patiently.
"Is this how it ends?" Methos enquired. "You're going to torture me to death with bad jokes?"
"Don't give me ideas." Duncan warned. "Did you know that Saul killed him?"
"Joe has a big mouth." Methos sighed. "I thought bartenders were supposed to be discreet."
"Joe can be discreet." Duncan smiled thinly. "He left so I could kill you in peace."
"How did this get to be my fault?" Methos asked plaintively. "I wasn't even there."
"You didn't think this was something I needed to know?" Duncan growled.
"Frankly. No." Methos was direct. "And I was right as it turns out."
"Why didn't Saul kill him?" Duncan wondered. "Why go to all that trouble to disable your opponent and then leave them their head?"
"Maybe Richie had something he wanted." Methos mused.
"Have you even been to Richie's apartment?" Duncan shook his head. "He doesn't have anything anyone would want."
"Somehow that doesn't surprise me." Methos smirked.
"You two have gotten pretty close over the last few days." Duncan rolled his beer between his hands.
"You're welcome." Methos deadpanned.
"What?" Duncan demanded icily.
"Oh come on Macleod. I've fed him, clothed him, put a roof over his head, tended to his owies, and traipsed all over the city trying to work out what the bloody hell is wrong with him, the least you could do is be a little grateful."
"Protecting Richie is my job." Duncan hissed. "You knew how worried I would be. Why not just bring him to me?"
"Ah." Methos looked uncomfortable. "That."
"Yes. That." Duncan insisted testily.
"I .. might have been wrong about that .." Methos sank into the sofa.
"You might have been wrong?" Duncan asked carefully.
"Every time he remembered even the smallest thing he'd get sick." Methos pointed out. "Its hard to cure an Immortal sized headache, when you haven't got the slightest idea what is causing it."
"How sick?" Duncan worried.
"The more he remembered the sicker he got." Methos admitted "I thought that if I brought him here, his head would explode."
"So why didn't it?" Duncan asked.
"I don't have a clue." Methos shrugged.
