SPECIAL ANNOUNCMENT! This chapter is dedicated to Christine for sending my
200th review for this story. Special Honorable Mentions to Sammy, who was
number 199 and Reagan who was 201. And of course all you people out there
that are kind enough to take the time and not only read but review as well.
Shall we go for 250?
The next afternoon, Richie packed Brandon a snack to eat while they drove to campus to meet Adam. Periodically while they drove, Richie would feel a buzz come into range and he would look back at Brandon in the rearview mirror. No wonder Duncan always knew where Richie was while he was mortal. He was a tiny blip on Immortal Radar.
Richie carried Brandon on his back to Adam's office. Brandon told jokes and kept up a one sided conversation the whole way there.
"I want to knock," Brandon insisted when Richie put his hand up to the door. Richie leaned forward so he could rap lightly on the door before they let themselves in.
"Hey," Richie greeted putting Brandon down.
"Thanks for knocking. This him?"
"Yup. Brandon this is Professor Pierson. He used to baby-sit me." Richie didn't miss the annoyed frown that crossed Adam face. Ever since that night at The Stadium last year Richie always introduced Adam as his babysitter.
"Hi, I'm Brandon. Today is my birthday and tomorrow is Halloween. I'm going to have a party."
"Well, happy birthday," Adam smiled at him. "You know. you seem to be just the guy to solve this problem I'm having." He walked over to his desk and opened a drawer. "She's been meowing all day. I think she wants someone to play with," he said picking up a kitten that looked like it had been woken from its nap. "Will you distract her while I talk to Richie?"
"Yeah!" Brandon agreed.
"Aw. You in the habit of keeping small pets in your desk?" Richie asked, watching Brandon settle on the floor with his prize.
"I borrowed it from Professor Kingsly. One of her students sold it to her."
Richie smiled and shook his head. "You never borrowed a cat to distract me. Should I be jealous?"
"You're a real brat, you know that?"
"I've been told," he shrugged. "Anyway, am I right?"
Adam looked at Brandon and studied him. "You're right. He's probably one of the last."
"So what do I do?"
"Train him."
"You want me to." Richie stopped and lowered his voice. "You want me to give a six year old a sword?"
"Don't be stupid. Get his parents to sign him up for some sort of self- defense class. Besides if he's like other immortals he's getting picked on and needs it anyway."
"What do you mean? Like other immortals what?"
"Every immortal I've run into has some memory of being bullied as a child. Weren't you?"
"Well, yeah. But I was short."
"MacLeod was picked on. both of them. Amanda was picked on. It's part of being immortal. It's as if mortals can sense that we're different and try to do something about it. It's like picking on a kid with glasses or braces only you don't know why you're doing it."
"So I tell Steven and Melinda to sign Brandon up for karate. What if they don't want to?"
"Mention to Brandon in conversation that you took karate. He'll pester his parents for you. As long as he knows you do it, he'll want to do it."
"Just because I'm immortal?"
"If a pre-immortal is lucky enough to find an immortal before their first death they imitate them. Like you and MacLeod and Masters."
"I didn't imitate Mac."
"You can't tell me you didn't sneak a few swings of the katana in while you were mortal."
"Well, yeah but I."
"Was drawn to them?"
"Yeah, but."
"You've always loved swords and history?"
"I guess."
"It's because you always knew you were immortal?"
They paused. "Well?" Richie asked. "What am I going to say next?"
"I also took most of MacLeod's rules to heart and tried to live up to his standards."
"That it?"
"For now."
"So I have to start him now?"
"I would. well?"
"Well?" Richie repeated.
"Where's the 'But Mac says.'?"
"I've never had this probl. You're making fun of me, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Thanks a lot, man." A Buzz hit and both immortals' backs stiffened. "I'm guessing that wasn't Brandon?"
"No. That was an immortal. Is that the feeling you've been getting?"
"Yeah."
"Then I take it back; you're not paranoid. You have yourself a knocker."
"What's that?"
"An immortal that runs once they get in range of their target."
"I've always wanted my very own stalker."
"Just keep up your training, and remember."
"There's no shame in running to keep your head," Richie intoned.
"Fast learner," Adam smiled pinching Richie's cheek. "I can see why MacLeod is so proud of you," he cooed.
"I'm sure; we have to go now. Thanks, Adam." "You watch that kid. The last thing you need is a six year old immortal to watch after." "Yeah, I know." He turned to pick up Brandon. "Come on, little man, time to go. Thank Professor Pierson for letting you play with his kitten."
Brandon's face fell at having to give the kitten back, but he did.reluctantly. "Thank you, Prof'sr Pierson. I really like your kitten."
Adam smiled and took hold of the kitten while Richie collected his charge and headed for the door.
"And Rich? Watch your head."
"Real funny."
. . . . . .
"What are those?" Heather asked, looking at the green things Richie was taking out of the oven.
"Frankenstein fingers. hotdogs stuffed with cheese and wrapped in green biscuit dough." He proudly held out the pan.
"And those?" she asked pointing to the black tips.
"Olives. finger nails," he smiled. "Try one."
"They're green." She wrinkled her nose and stepped away.
"It's just food coloring."
"I'm not eating it," she insisted.
"Fine, more for the kids."
"You think they're gonna eat those?"
"18 six-year-old boys? They'll love them."
"How do you know?"
"Because I'm boy and I was six once."
"What's this?" she asked moving to the stove. "Cream of vegetable soup?"
"Add a little food coloring and it's barf."
"Why did my dad let you be in charge of food?"
"Because he thought I had great ideas for the menu. Besides it's a Halloween party." He put his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. "Don't you have a sense of humor?"
"I've had a sense of humor with this thing," she said fingering the goatee that Richie had been growing for the past two weeks.
"Don't you think it makes me look more pirate-ie?"
"I think it makes you fuzzy."
"Maybe my costume will help," he looked down and her.
"Maybe."
"You think?"
"Yeah."
He started backing toward the kitchen door, dragging her with him. "You wanna help me change?"
"Maybe."
"Arrgh. don't be makin' me force you into nothin'," he said in his best pirate voice.
. . . . . .
"They ooze puss!" one of Brandon's friends, a policeman, yelled excitedly as melted cheese dripped from his hot dog.
"Ewww!" the rest of the kids yelled as the chomped into their own Frankenstein fingers.
"Told ya," Richie the pirate boasted to Heather a.k.a. Wonder Woman. "Little boys like gross things. They're going to love desert."
"I'm afraid to ask."
"Scabs," Richie grinned broadly at her.
"What?!"
"I'll show you." He took her into the kitchen were a large platter of red and brown and lumpy. things sat on the counter. "Melted marshmallows died red and corn flakes. Like rice crispy treats. only gross looking." He picked on up. "Try it."
"No." She backed away.
"Just close your eyes and try it."
"Fine." She rolled her eyes and tried it.
"See, just like grandma used to make. Only these will turn your teeth pink if you eat too many."
. . . . . .
"Mac, perfect timing," Joe said as Duncan walked into the empty bar. "Mike just sent me some stuff you have to see."
"What's wrong?" Duncan asked approaching Joe and his lap top.
Joe chuckled. "You tell me. Has Richie always dressed up like this?" He turned the computer so Duncan could see the pictures Mike had taken of Richie escorting a small herd of boys trick or treating. Richie was a pirate from head to toe, complete with bandanna around the head, a cheesy plastic sword tucked in his red sash, and knee high black boots.
Duncan smiled. "Tessa made him a Musketeer costume when he was 19."
"He is an odd little boy," Joe said fondly.
"He just has a good sense of humor. This must be the Halloween/birthday party he was telling me about."
"There's more. See Batman? He's immortal."
"Where?" Duncan scanned through the pictures again. "I don't see him."
"Try lower, around there." Joe pointed to the little boy holding Richie's hand. "Adam just called. It turns out Brandon is immortal."
"Heather's brother? Is he sure?"
"Richie and Adam both felt it."
Duncan smiled. "You make sure someone keeps an eye on both of them. I'll call Richie tomorrow."
"Of course."
Duncan headed out to his car. Poor Richie. He really would have a long road ahead of him with Brandon and it would be hard for the young man to watch his favorite young charge grow up and learn the Game. Duncan had every confidence that Richie would do it and make sure the boy had every advantage possible. Duncan reached his car. He opened the door, slid in making sure his coat wasn't in the way, and slammed the door. He turned the car on and sped home. If he hurried, he'd have enough time for dinner before he called Richie.
AN: Thanks to Lorilei for the food ideas!
The next afternoon, Richie packed Brandon a snack to eat while they drove to campus to meet Adam. Periodically while they drove, Richie would feel a buzz come into range and he would look back at Brandon in the rearview mirror. No wonder Duncan always knew where Richie was while he was mortal. He was a tiny blip on Immortal Radar.
Richie carried Brandon on his back to Adam's office. Brandon told jokes and kept up a one sided conversation the whole way there.
"I want to knock," Brandon insisted when Richie put his hand up to the door. Richie leaned forward so he could rap lightly on the door before they let themselves in.
"Hey," Richie greeted putting Brandon down.
"Thanks for knocking. This him?"
"Yup. Brandon this is Professor Pierson. He used to baby-sit me." Richie didn't miss the annoyed frown that crossed Adam face. Ever since that night at The Stadium last year Richie always introduced Adam as his babysitter.
"Hi, I'm Brandon. Today is my birthday and tomorrow is Halloween. I'm going to have a party."
"Well, happy birthday," Adam smiled at him. "You know. you seem to be just the guy to solve this problem I'm having." He walked over to his desk and opened a drawer. "She's been meowing all day. I think she wants someone to play with," he said picking up a kitten that looked like it had been woken from its nap. "Will you distract her while I talk to Richie?"
"Yeah!" Brandon agreed.
"Aw. You in the habit of keeping small pets in your desk?" Richie asked, watching Brandon settle on the floor with his prize.
"I borrowed it from Professor Kingsly. One of her students sold it to her."
Richie smiled and shook his head. "You never borrowed a cat to distract me. Should I be jealous?"
"You're a real brat, you know that?"
"I've been told," he shrugged. "Anyway, am I right?"
Adam looked at Brandon and studied him. "You're right. He's probably one of the last."
"So what do I do?"
"Train him."
"You want me to." Richie stopped and lowered his voice. "You want me to give a six year old a sword?"
"Don't be stupid. Get his parents to sign him up for some sort of self- defense class. Besides if he's like other immortals he's getting picked on and needs it anyway."
"What do you mean? Like other immortals what?"
"Every immortal I've run into has some memory of being bullied as a child. Weren't you?"
"Well, yeah. But I was short."
"MacLeod was picked on. both of them. Amanda was picked on. It's part of being immortal. It's as if mortals can sense that we're different and try to do something about it. It's like picking on a kid with glasses or braces only you don't know why you're doing it."
"So I tell Steven and Melinda to sign Brandon up for karate. What if they don't want to?"
"Mention to Brandon in conversation that you took karate. He'll pester his parents for you. As long as he knows you do it, he'll want to do it."
"Just because I'm immortal?"
"If a pre-immortal is lucky enough to find an immortal before their first death they imitate them. Like you and MacLeod and Masters."
"I didn't imitate Mac."
"You can't tell me you didn't sneak a few swings of the katana in while you were mortal."
"Well, yeah but I."
"Was drawn to them?"
"Yeah, but."
"You've always loved swords and history?"
"I guess."
"It's because you always knew you were immortal?"
They paused. "Well?" Richie asked. "What am I going to say next?"
"I also took most of MacLeod's rules to heart and tried to live up to his standards."
"That it?"
"For now."
"So I have to start him now?"
"I would. well?"
"Well?" Richie repeated.
"Where's the 'But Mac says.'?"
"I've never had this probl. You're making fun of me, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Thanks a lot, man." A Buzz hit and both immortals' backs stiffened. "I'm guessing that wasn't Brandon?"
"No. That was an immortal. Is that the feeling you've been getting?"
"Yeah."
"Then I take it back; you're not paranoid. You have yourself a knocker."
"What's that?"
"An immortal that runs once they get in range of their target."
"I've always wanted my very own stalker."
"Just keep up your training, and remember."
"There's no shame in running to keep your head," Richie intoned.
"Fast learner," Adam smiled pinching Richie's cheek. "I can see why MacLeod is so proud of you," he cooed.
"I'm sure; we have to go now. Thanks, Adam." "You watch that kid. The last thing you need is a six year old immortal to watch after." "Yeah, I know." He turned to pick up Brandon. "Come on, little man, time to go. Thank Professor Pierson for letting you play with his kitten."
Brandon's face fell at having to give the kitten back, but he did.reluctantly. "Thank you, Prof'sr Pierson. I really like your kitten."
Adam smiled and took hold of the kitten while Richie collected his charge and headed for the door.
"And Rich? Watch your head."
"Real funny."
. . . . . .
"What are those?" Heather asked, looking at the green things Richie was taking out of the oven.
"Frankenstein fingers. hotdogs stuffed with cheese and wrapped in green biscuit dough." He proudly held out the pan.
"And those?" she asked pointing to the black tips.
"Olives. finger nails," he smiled. "Try one."
"They're green." She wrinkled her nose and stepped away.
"It's just food coloring."
"I'm not eating it," she insisted.
"Fine, more for the kids."
"You think they're gonna eat those?"
"18 six-year-old boys? They'll love them."
"How do you know?"
"Because I'm boy and I was six once."
"What's this?" she asked moving to the stove. "Cream of vegetable soup?"
"Add a little food coloring and it's barf."
"Why did my dad let you be in charge of food?"
"Because he thought I had great ideas for the menu. Besides it's a Halloween party." He put his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. "Don't you have a sense of humor?"
"I've had a sense of humor with this thing," she said fingering the goatee that Richie had been growing for the past two weeks.
"Don't you think it makes me look more pirate-ie?"
"I think it makes you fuzzy."
"Maybe my costume will help," he looked down and her.
"Maybe."
"You think?"
"Yeah."
He started backing toward the kitchen door, dragging her with him. "You wanna help me change?"
"Maybe."
"Arrgh. don't be makin' me force you into nothin'," he said in his best pirate voice.
. . . . . .
"They ooze puss!" one of Brandon's friends, a policeman, yelled excitedly as melted cheese dripped from his hot dog.
"Ewww!" the rest of the kids yelled as the chomped into their own Frankenstein fingers.
"Told ya," Richie the pirate boasted to Heather a.k.a. Wonder Woman. "Little boys like gross things. They're going to love desert."
"I'm afraid to ask."
"Scabs," Richie grinned broadly at her.
"What?!"
"I'll show you." He took her into the kitchen were a large platter of red and brown and lumpy. things sat on the counter. "Melted marshmallows died red and corn flakes. Like rice crispy treats. only gross looking." He picked on up. "Try it."
"No." She backed away.
"Just close your eyes and try it."
"Fine." She rolled her eyes and tried it.
"See, just like grandma used to make. Only these will turn your teeth pink if you eat too many."
. . . . . .
"Mac, perfect timing," Joe said as Duncan walked into the empty bar. "Mike just sent me some stuff you have to see."
"What's wrong?" Duncan asked approaching Joe and his lap top.
Joe chuckled. "You tell me. Has Richie always dressed up like this?" He turned the computer so Duncan could see the pictures Mike had taken of Richie escorting a small herd of boys trick or treating. Richie was a pirate from head to toe, complete with bandanna around the head, a cheesy plastic sword tucked in his red sash, and knee high black boots.
Duncan smiled. "Tessa made him a Musketeer costume when he was 19."
"He is an odd little boy," Joe said fondly.
"He just has a good sense of humor. This must be the Halloween/birthday party he was telling me about."
"There's more. See Batman? He's immortal."
"Where?" Duncan scanned through the pictures again. "I don't see him."
"Try lower, around there." Joe pointed to the little boy holding Richie's hand. "Adam just called. It turns out Brandon is immortal."
"Heather's brother? Is he sure?"
"Richie and Adam both felt it."
Duncan smiled. "You make sure someone keeps an eye on both of them. I'll call Richie tomorrow."
"Of course."
Duncan headed out to his car. Poor Richie. He really would have a long road ahead of him with Brandon and it would be hard for the young man to watch his favorite young charge grow up and learn the Game. Duncan had every confidence that Richie would do it and make sure the boy had every advantage possible. Duncan reached his car. He opened the door, slid in making sure his coat wasn't in the way, and slammed the door. He turned the car on and sped home. If he hurried, he'd have enough time for dinner before he called Richie.
AN: Thanks to Lorilei for the food ideas!