"If Richie wants to go to Tibet, then that's his decision." Duncan was rather proud of the way he managed to keep the hurt out of his voice.
"Sure," Richie said flatly. "I mean, they have girls there, right?"
Duncan opened his mouth to tease Richie about the fact that they also had monasteries and serve him right if he had to spend all his time in one of those. When it dawned on him that Richie had just agreed to go.
"You do know where Tibet is, right?" he asked.
"Yeah." Richie didn't look all that sure.
"And what about School?" Duncan demanded.
"School?" Richie repeated, in much the same tone as he'd used to enquire about Amanda. "You're worried about me missing School?"
"Yeah, School," Duncan insisted. "I thought that was important to you?"
"Things change."
Duncan looked up sharply at his hollow tone. The lad looked decidedly fragile. Like a warm bed and a bowl of broth would do him a power of good.
"Are you feeling OK?" he asked gently.
"Any reason why I shouldn't be?" Richie challenged.
"Yes. Several." Duncan reminded him wryly.
"I'm fine." Richie muttered, looking away.
Duncan sighed at the obvious lie. But Richie clearly wasn't twelve any more. He wouldn't thank him, for fussing over him in front of Methos. Even so.
"Look at him. You really think he's well enough to travel?" He asked Methos, switching to Gaelic.
"I wasn't planning on making him walk there." Methos pointed out in the same language.
"You hate flying," Duncan groused. "He'd feel better after a few days in his own bed."
"That's why I always travel first class. The kid will be pampered within an inch of his life. If that doesn't make him feel better I don't know what will."
"I'd feel better if you two would stop talking about me as if I wasn't here." Richie protested.
"We're not .." Duncan began. Before he realised that Richie had spoken in flawless Gaelic. "Since when do you speak Gaelic?"
"Since Connor," Richie shrugged. "Can we go now?"
"Did you tell him about the child's parents wanting to talk to him?" Methos asked.
"What!" Richie looked anxious.
"I was going to break it to him gently." Duncan scowled.
"No. No way," Richie shook his head. "I don't want to talk to any parents. I mean. I'm glad the kid's OK and all. But can't we just leave it at that?"
"So, I suppose that means you don't want to talk to the Press conference either?" Methos raised a brow.
"Press conference!"
"Yeah, you're a veritable media celebrity. After all, you almost died .. Lazarus."
"I thought you said almost doesn't count?" Richie said snidely.
"You want to tell me what you were thinking?" Methos asked quietly.
"I wasn't thinking, alright? I just heard the little boy crying and I knew I had to get him out of there. And I did."
"Well. You were lucky. This time. They just think you had a close call and a ruined jacket. Be glad there weren't any TV cameras." Methos reproved.
"If there were, I would still have done the same thing." Richie vowed quietly.
"Yes," Methos sighed. "You probably would. But next time, would it kill you to at least, pretend, to take some breathing apparatus, with you?"
"Oh." Richie flushed. "I never thought of that."
"Of course not," Methos sighed. "Come on. Let's get you out of here."
"How are you going to do that?" Richie worried. "I mean, what if someone recognises me?"
"They won't, if they don't see your face." Methos looked smug.
"You wouldn't," Richie backed up. "Methos, you are not putting me in a body bag."
***
"Tell me he didn't." Connor chuckled.
"Of course not," Duncan shook his head. "We just snuck him out the back way. We've done it often enough with new Immortals. At least, Richie was dressed."
"So," Connor handed Duncan his drink. "What about Tibet?"
"What about it? Rich could learn a lot in Tibet," Duncan said woodenly, reaching up to accept the glass. "It'll be good for him."
"Meditation? Richie?" Connor shook his head.
"You don't think he should go?" Duncan looked up hopefully.
"Did you try to talk to him?"
"Yes, I tried to talk to him." Duncan scowled.
"And?"
"He said Richie was his student now and I shouldn't interfere."
"Not Methos," Connor frowned. "Richie. Did you even ask him if he really wanted to go to Tibet?"
"Richie's a big boy now," Duncan shook his head. "He made his feelings quite clear. If he didn't want to go, he would have said so."
"Would he?" Connor enquired.
"Of course.." Duncan looked up. "Why not?"
"What are his alternatives?"
"He could stay here with me."
Connor surveyed his former student with a sigh. He was really very fond of him. But he could be rather dense, sometimes.
"How much time have you spent with Richie recently?"
What are you talking about?" Duncan frowned. "I see him almost every day."
"When did you last spar with him?"
"Its been ..a while.." Duncan shrugged. "He spars with Methos."
"And me," Connor told him. "And Amanda."
"Amanda's been teaching him?" Duncan blinked. "I didn't know that. What has Amanda been teaching him?"
"Maybe if you sparred with him, you'd find out."
"Between you and Methos and Amanda, I'd probably have to challenge him to find a free spot in his schedule." Duncan muttered sourly.
"A mite jealous are you?" Connor asked astutely.
"No." Duncan denied, with something that came dangerously close to a pout. "I wanted Richie to have new friends, new experiences."
"How long has it been since you went out anywhere with him?"
"The night before I left for France?" Duncan reminded him. "We went to a movie and that restaurant in town. You were there."
"And so was Methos, and Amanda," Connor acknowledged. "When did you last go out, just the two of you? Just sit and talk? Or teach him a new skill?"
"I know," Duncan admitted. "But its not like he's been lacking in new experiences. Methos has taken him, Rock climbing. Parachuting. Scuba diving. And just the other week Rich e-mailed me to give me a blow by blow account of how he taught him to water-ski."
"Doesn't that tell you something?" Connor asked.
"Yeah, he doesn't need me." Duncan scrubbed at his face, unwilling to admit, even to Connor, how much that hurt.
"Duncan, you're not thinking straight. When you where Richie's age, and you had done something you were proud of, who was the first person you wanted to tell?"
"My father," Duncan realised. "Oh .."
***
Duncan picked up the picture of him and Richie that stood on the desk in Connor's den. He wasn't even sure when, or who, had taken it. He and Richie were sitting on the couch in the loft, surrounded by Chinese takeout and empty beer bottles. He was throwing Richie a fond look, as he laughed at something the young man had said, and Richie was glancing back across at him, amusement and affection written all over his features.
"Is this a private pity party or can anyone join in?" Methos voice came from behind him.
Duncan carefully set the photo back down on the desk and turned to face him.
"You know, I thought you were supposed to be Richie's teacher." He observed.
Something akin to satisfaction flashed through Methos' eyes, before it was replaced with an insufferably smug smile.
"So, you've worked it out then?"
"If you mean what a fool I've been, then yes. Although, I can't take all the credit. Connor helped."
"About bloody time," Methos groused. "For a minute there, I thought I was actually going to have to go to Tibet." He shuddered. "Their idea of beer leaves a lot to be desired. I swear they mix it with Yak's milk."
"You couldn't just have told me that I was acting like an idiot and Richie was feeling abandoned?"
"Well, I thought about it," Methos admitted. "But you were so busy feeling sorry for yourself that your chick had flown the nest that I didn't think you'd listen to me."
"I would have listened to Richie." Duncan grumbled.
"Try and see it from his point of view. You're not his employer any more. You're no longer his teacher. And much as he might want one, he thinks he's too old to need a father. What's he going to say to you? You gave me this great start in life and to show you just how grateful I am I want to monopolise even more of your time and attention?"
"Things were much easier when he was twelve." Duncan gave a lop sided smile.
"You have a short memory." Methos laughed. "I don't think Joe and Connor would agree."
"He remembers that?" Duncan's lips quirked. "Connor might need to watch his back."
"I think Joe is already packing."
"You coped surprisingly well." Duncan commented.
"Twelve. Twenty something. Is there really so much difference? You're still the same people."
"I guess so," Duncan rubbed at his face. "I need to talk to him."
"Somebody does," Methos agreed. "Take a look at this."
Duncan looked down at the news report of Angela Greaves miraculous rescue from a blazing store. "So? It says here, her rescuer wished to remain anonymous. That's what we wanted isn't it?"
"Remember when Richie talked about the child?"
"He thought it was a boy. It's an easy enough mistake. At that age the differences between boys and girls aren't always that obvious."
"Have you even looked at the photo?" Methos demanded.
The little girl had long blonde braids, she was dressed in a slightly sooty and torn Barbie pink dress, with pink tights and silver ballerina style shoes. In her right hand she had a death grip on a rag doll.
"Not much to mistake there." Methos murmured.
"No," Duncan agreed. He had a very bad feeling about this.