AN – Thank you to all the lovely people who are have taken the trouble to review. Its always great to know what you think – this is almost done now, one maybe two more chapters after this.

***

"Would it have been so difficult to have just said something?" Richie crossed his arms and stared down at Methos, who was sprawled on the bed, sipping at his beer.

"You're blowing this out of all proportion." Methos tried to inject a voice of reason.

"You think so?" Richie raised a brow. "Then you tell me how to fix this."

Methos sighed and craned his neck to peer at Richie's hair critically.

"Its only burnt in places."

"I have bald bits!"

"It'll grow."

"How long?" Richie demanded.

"How long do you want it to be?"

"You're being deliberately obtuse, aren't you?"

"You're leaning." Methos toasted him with his beer.

Richie regarded him silently.

"I can hear what you're thinking." Methos smirked.

"Good."

"Well," Methos swung his feet around. "My work here is done."

"Hey. You are not leaving. We gotta do something." Richie turned back to look in the mirror. "I can't go out like this."

Methos decided to forbear from mentioning that he already had. "Have you got any scissors?"

"Scissors? That's your solution? Make it even shorter than it already is?"

"Look on the bright side. It will probably make you look older."

"You think?" Richie brightened slightly. "I can live with that."

"Go on then." Methos encouraged.

"What?"

"Fetch the scissors."

"Oh no," Richie put both of his hands protectively over his head. "If you think I'm letting you within ten feet of me with a pair of scissors. .. No way ..."

"Want me to do it?" Duncan offered quietly, from the doorway.

"Would you mind?" Richie asked hesitantly.

"Course not." Duncan smiled. "Its not like I haven't done it before."

***

As he arrived back at the Store Richie dropped his backpack onto the floor, already veering towards the kitchen and his ultimate objective. He'd been playing basketball all afternoon and he was way too hungry to wait the two hours until dinner.

"What does Madam desire?" Duncan's voice, with an even odder than usual accent came from the kitchen.

"I am in your hands," Tessa giggled. "Do with me as you will."

Richie stopped dead. It wouldn't be the first time that he had come home and disturbed the couple when they were .. involved. He had never ever actually caught them in the act, but the flushed expressions and the hasty re-arranging of clothes told their own story, and came way too close for his liking. He'd always thought maybe, one day, he wouldn't be so lucky.

Maybe, today was that day.

His stomach growled, loudly. Reminding him of his mission.

"Surely, they wouldn't?" Richie told himself. "Not in the kitchen. Its unsanitary." Buoyed by this he took a few more steps..

Still. You never knew with those two.

Resigning himself to near starvation Richie turned to trudge towards his room.

"Rich? Duncan's voice stopped him. "That you?"

"Um. Yeah." Richie called back. "I .. um .. I'm just gonna take a shower. Um. A really long shower."

"Could you just come in here for a minute first please?," Duncan asked. "I need a hand here."

"Er .. I'm really dirty," Richie hedged. "I smell."

"We will hold our noses." Tessa spoke.

"Oh man." Richie groaned, as he edged into the kitchen, not at all sure what he expected to see.

Whatever it was, it wasn't this.

+++

"Why is it so hard to believe?" Duncan asked, as he worked. "In four hundred years you'd expect to pick up some skills."

"But hairdressing?" Richie threw up his hands.

"This would go more quickly, if you would hold the mirror still," Tessa suggested. "Then you may make your raid on the refrigerator."

"I never said I was hungry." Richie was faintly worried. Some of his foster parents had had strong opinions on taking food from the refrigerator between meals. Eating them out of house and home one couple had complained. No better than stealing according to another.

But Mac laughed. "No, ,but  your stomach did, I can here it growling from here."

"Oh, sorry." Richie grinned, because it seemed like they didn't mind.

"You haven't answered the question." Duncan prompted.

"I guess, I just assumed Tess went to one of those fancy places in the mall, with the big glass windows, so that everyone can see what a big shot are to be able to afford to go there. I mean she always looks so hot."

Richie blushed when he realised what he had said, but Tessa just smiled.

"You like my hair?" She tossed it lightly.

"Yeah. It looks great, Tessa." He said sincerely.

"Then perhaps you would like Duncan to cut your hair also?" She asked innocently.

***

"It was a trick," Richie protested, good humouredly. "She knew I was never going to say that she looked anything but beautiful."

"She had been itching for an excuse to make you look more .."

"Respectable?" Richie suggested, without rancour.

"Handsome," Duncan corrected. "It was one of the happiest days in her life when she first saw you all dressed up in that tux, she said you looked like a movie star."

"I looked like a penguin." Richie remembered fondly.

"You looked fine," Duncan corrected. "You just walked like a penguin."

"Funny Mac."

"OK, I'm done," Duncan dusted the last pieces of hair off his shoulders. "What do you think?"

Richie looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was quite a bit shorter. But Methos was right. It did make him look older. And the burnt patches were barely noticeable.

"You know, this is pretty good, Mac," Richie was pleased. "You should take this up professionally."

"I think I did once .. " Duncan grinned tightly at Richie's shocked expression. "No. This service is strictly family only."

Richie's reaction was nothing like what he had hoped for. The lad looked away sharply.

"Well, thanks anyway." He responded woodenly.

"Look, Rich .." Duncan tried to apologise for his recent behaviour..

"I should probably go see what Methos is up to," Richie cut him off.

"Richie," Duncan pressed on regardless. "I don't blame you for being mad at me."

"Mad? I'm not mad."

"So, you agreed to travel halfway around the world, to a place you had never hard of because you're not mad?"

"I wasn't mad .." Richie hedged. "I was embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?"

"Mac, I was twelve!" Richie protested. "Its .. its humiliating!"

"Why?" Duncan asked, genuinely confused.

"Oh please," Richie rolled his eyes. "Joe sent me to bed early. Connor .. I'm gonna kill Connor .. even Methos read me a bed time story .. and you … you .." he stopped and ran a hand through his hair, biting his lip hard.

"What?" Duncan asked, concerned now. He couldn't remember anything he had done that would cause the lad this much distress.

"You didn't even blink," Richie's voice faltered. "I mean, for all you knew, I might have been twelve for the rest of my life and you just .. you were my Dad."

"Richie . we've talked about this .."

"Yeah, right and how many times have we played snakes and ladders before?"

"I didn't know you like it so much," Duncan shrugged. "Now I do."

"And  then .. I had a nightmare .. and you ... I sat in your lap. Like I was real small." Riche's voice cracked.

"Did it help? At the time?" Duncan asked neutrally. "Did it make you feel better?"

"Well, yeah .. " Richie sniffed.

"Good," Duncan said simply, slipping his arm around Richie's shoulders. "Then I did my job."

"Huh?"

"Rich, whether you are twelve, or two hundred, my role is to give you what you need at the time. Those needs might change but it doesn't matter to me how old, or young, you are, that will always be my job. Understand?"

"I guess," Richie gave him a lop sided smile. "So, why have you been acting like such a jerk, recently then?"

"Because, I was jealous. I saw you growing up and I was afraid that you would grow away from me. That I would loose you." Duncan admitted with rare candour.

"Mac," Richie swallowed hard. "Never gonna happen."

"Never?" Duncan gave him a slight smile. "Are you sure? That could turn out to be a pretty long time?"

"Or, it could be a real short one," Richie told him, with a frankness and maturity that made Duncan's heart glow. "And, I'm not going to waste one second of it by worrying about stupid stuff, like whether I'm too old to need you or not. Because the truth is, I do .. Dad."

Not trusting himself to speak, Duncan brought his other arm up around Richie and hugged him close. "You don't know how long it is I've wished to hear you say that." He managed. He wondered how Richie would react if he slid him into his lap.

Richie's voice came out muffled against his shoulder. "Don't even think about it .."

Duncan laughed.

***

"How is he?" Methos put aside the book he had been pretending to read and gave Duncan his full attention.

"Asleep." Duncan poured himself a drink and sank onto the couch.

Methos waited. But nothing more was forthcoming.

"Macleod."

Duncan gave him a reasonably truthful version of events. He didn't mind coming off like an ass for the ancient Immortal's amusement, but he'd save the lad the embarrassment if he could.

"You're both bloody idiots, must be genetic." Methos scoffed. "Did you ask him about the fire?"

Duncan scrubbed tiredly at his face. "Not yet. Won't it keep till the morning? I'm really not up to dealing with more than one crisis at a time, right now."

"Oh," Methos looked pained. "Then I supposed this isn't a good time to tell you that we are out of beer?"