AN – As so often happens with my stories this started out with a fairly simple idea and its kinda taken on a life of its own, - which means its going to be significantly longer than I originally planned, but it is great that so many people are getting caught up in the story, thanks so much for the all the reviews.

To Neoineon, I think Gary's popularity is due to the fact that that pre-immie Rich didn't have a lot of guy friends, - not with names anyway! To RRyanForever, um, gulp, another cliffie, should I duck now? But I am writing as fast as I can, to Laurakkc, Mac has his reasons for not going to Hospital, (there wrong but he has them) and Dani, wow, that's a lot of questions, I WILL get to them, but not all in one chapter – and to Lori, do you really think I'm gonna make it THAT easy? (grins).

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"Alright," Duncan, led Tessa straight through the apartment towards their bedroom. "Let's get you taken care of, huh sweetheart?"

Tessa didn't seem to be badly hurt, but she hadn't spoken all the way home. He worried that whatever had happened to them out there was more traumatic then he knew. Maybe, she was going into shock. He settled her on the bed.

"Now, are you sure you don't need to go to the Hospital?"

"No, Duncan. I do not need a Hospital." She said, after a pause.

"OK, but you have to tell me where it hurts, love."

She looked at him and then looked away. But she knew him well enough to know that he would not let this drop.

"My feet." She waved a hand

That made sense. She was having trouble walking. He cast an eye over her feet, but her pantyhose was so dirty that it was hard to see how extensive the injuries were. First he cut away as much of the material as he dared. Then, he fetched a large basin and filled it with water, soaking the sole of each foot gently, before peeling away the remnants of the material, bracing himself for deep cuts and abrasions.

"Blisters?" he said incredulously.

"They should not be able to sell shoes at such prices if people cannot walk in them." Tessa protested.

"Sweetheart," Duncan tried to be patient. "I need to know if you are really hurt?"

"Oh, Duncan," she looked up at him. "Please hold me."

"Shh, easy sweetheart," Duncan hugged her and kissed the top of her head. "Its all over now."

Whatever "it" was.

"How about I run you a nice warm bath?" he coaxed. "Does that sound good?" At least that way he might be able to get her to relax. And he would be able to see if she had any other injuries he should know about.

In the ten minutes that it took the bath to fill Duncan was able to ascertain two things. The blisters not withstanding, Tessa didn't appear to have suffered any  physical injuries during the period that she was missing. But she was, most definitely, not herself, as she threw her expensive designer clothes on the floor with a total disregard for their care that he had never seen from her before.

Once she was safely in the bath, he busied himself picking them up, it might be that a good night's rest would be all it would take to restore her to her old self. If so, he didn't want to be the one dealing with the fallout in the morning, when she saw how wrinkled they were. Feeling something oddly heavy in her jacket pocket he reached inside to remove it. God forbid anything should pull the tailoring out of shape.

"Tessa, why do you have Richie's knife?" Duncan went to the bathroom door and held up the thin, blade.

"You know about that?" Tessa asked.

"Of course, I .." Duncan paused at her expression. "You didn't know?"

"Certainly not!" Tessa huffed. "He has no business carrying such a thing."

"Please, tell me that you didn't confiscate this from him." Duncan sighed.

"Surely you cannot agree that he should bring such a thing into our home?"

"Well, in the circumstances, I think I'm hardly in a position to call him on it." Duncan tried a smile.

"This is not a joke, Duncan. It is not a toy. It is a weapon. A very dangerous weapon."

"Alright, so its not ideal, but we need to get him to trust us. We want him to feel safe here. This is like his insurance policy," Was it his imagination, or did Tessa flinch slightly at those words? "He'll give it up when he feels ready, love, in the meantime, if you just take it way from him, he's just going to feel even more insecure."

"Well, thank you, Dr Spock," Tessa closed her eyes.

"So, are you going to give it back to him?" Duncan asked, as the silence stretched out.

"Me?" Tessa's eyes snapped open. "Why do I have to be the one to give it back to him?"

"Because you were the one who took it from him. You should be the one to tell him that you understand."

"But I don't .." Tessa shook her head. "I don't understand anything about his life."

"Tessa .."

"No, Duncan, if you think it is perfectly all right for him to be fighting with knives, then you give it back to him. I wish nothing to do with it!"

"Fighting?"

Tessa looked away.  "That is what they do with them, is it not? Fight?" She said, woodenly.

Duncan sighed. He'd suspected as much.

"Is that what happened tonight?" Duncan asked gently, coming in to sit on the edge of the tub. "Richie got into a fight?"

Tessa inspected her nails and ignored him.

"Tess, I know a knife cut when I see one. Richie's face didn't get like that by accident." Duncan pressed.

"I'm tired," Tessa declared, rising out of the tub.  "I'm going to bed."

"Aren't you even going to wait until Richie …" Duncan broke off as the phone began to ring. He was tempted to continue this and let the machine pick it up, but he was worried that it might be Richie, calling from the Hospital.

"Macleod."

"Hello, kinsman."

"Connor," Duncan sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, but this isn't really a good time."

"One of us?"

"No, nothing like that. At least, I don't think so. Just a few .. family problems."

"Uh huh," Connor's voice came down the line. "Would this have anything to do with why my favourite nephew just called me?"

"Richie called you from the Hospital?" Duncan frowned. "Why would he do that?"

"Strangely enough," Connor said dryly. "He neglected to mention that particular piece of information. What is he doing in the Hospital?"

Briefly, Duncan told Connor what  he knew. Which wasn't much.

"Why did he call you?"

"He wanted to know if he could come and stay with me in New York for a while." Connor supplied.

"Did he say why?" Duncan asked hollowly.

"No, he did not," Connor sighed. "At first, I though the two of you had had some kind of falling out and he was running to Uncle Connor for a spot of spoiling. But this isn't some bit of boyish teenage rebellion Duncan, the lad is scared. Really scared."

"I should have gone with him to the Hospital." Duncan berated himself.

"Why didn't you?" Connor asked mildly.

"Because Richie made it clear that he didn't want me there and I didn't want to embarrass him in front of his friend by insisting."

"And you were afraid." Connor surmised.

"He's not ready for me to be his father Connor," Duncan defended himself. "He needs more time. If I push too hard I might loose him altogether."

"Duncan, take my advice, whatever's going on with that lad, he needs a father, whether he realises it or not. If you don't do something, you're going to loose him anyway."

"Well, I'll not make much headway if he's in New York with you."

"He came to me for help Duncan, I'll not turn him away. From Friday, they'll be a First Class ticket to New York with his name on it at the desk at the airport."

"Friday?" Duncan blinked. "Connor, that's almost a week away. Its not that hard to get a ticket in First Class."

"And if it was a real emergency, like his first death say, I would simply have dispensed with even that economy and chartered a plane for the lad," Connor agreed. "But Richie doesn't know that. And he doesn't need to know."

"Connor, I could kiss you."

"Kiss the lad for me instead," Connor laughed. "And when this is over, you can all come to New York, as a family."

"Aye, we will indeed." Duncan vowed.

Even as he replaced the phone, it immediately rang again. Duncan snatched it up quickly, hope flaring in his heart.

"Richie?"

It wasn't.

It was the breakdown company confirming that they had recovered the Mercedes. Wanting to keep the line free Duncan tried to hurry them through the routine report, until the mechanic suddenly said something that caught his attention.

"Out of gas? Are you sure?"

He listened for a moment, frowning intently.

"What about the emergency can? There should have been one in the trunk.? It was? I see," Duncan said, although he didn't all. "All locked in the trunk? Yes, I agree, that is very unusual. Just the alternator?" Duncan frowned, as realisation began to dawn. "Um, well no, don't replace it just yet. The old one might turn up. Yeah, I'm sure. Thanks for your call. Good night."

Replacing the phone for the second time, he stared at it for a moment, before he became aware of Tessa standing in the doorway.

"Does the fact that your car was out of gas have anything to do with why Richie wants to run away to New York?" he asked evenly.