AN – Its very late and I'm very tired so I'll just save time and apologise now for any typos etc – but I figured some update was better than no update!

***

Duncan had tried to tell himself that nothing was wrong. After all, it was hardly the first time that Richie had rung to say he was staying over at a friend's house. And when he'd told her, he'd gone out of his way to reassure Tessa that the Hospital had given Richie a clean bill of health, so the relief in her eyes had simply been because he was okay, nothing else. It didn't mean anything was wrong.

Except, something wasn't right.

"He'll be home in the morning." He'd stressed, as much to reassure himself as anything.

But now, as he lay here, staring up at the shadows on the ceiling, he realised that Richie hadn't said that at all. I'll talk to you tomorrow. What exactly did that mean? Did it mean that Richie was just going to phone again? This time, perhaps from another, undisclosed, location? Duncan's chest tightened, what if all the lad wanted to talk about was retrieving, or worse, sending on, his few meagre possessions? Tessa was right, they had no "legal" hold over him anymore, no matter that he had just turned 17, as far as the authorities were concerned he was a free agent.

Looking over at Tessa, he saw that she was sleeping soundly. Briefly, he considered waking her, but he worried that she was far more affected by the gang's attack than she cared to admit. Shock affected people in different ways and her behaviour tonight had certainly  been .. odd.

Sighing, he finally gave up on sleep for the time being and slipped out from under the covers, careful not to wake Tessa. Pulling on sweat pants and an old sweater. he pulled his trainers out from the bottom of the wardrobe and took them and his sword into the Kitchen. Laying the Katana down on the counter he stood on first one leg and then the other to put on his trainers. Just in case Tessa woke, he scribbled a quick note before taking a moment to ensure that it was safely out of sight, and then let himself out into the night.

Upstairs, Tessa waited until she was certain he had left, before she gave up on feigning sleep and opened her eyes.

***

Duncan chose to walk the few blocks to the abandoned warehouse. He hoped that the crisp, night air, might help to clear his head and start to put his thoughts in some coherent order. But his emotions churned in his chest, evoking an age old adrenalin to fight. He'd tried to explain it to Tessa once, the total calm that came when you were one with the blade and she'd tried to capture it in her drawings, the artist in her saw the beauty in the form, but the sketches were all about the physical being, the grace, the energy, not the inner peace in that perfect mesh of mind and movement.

He figured he was too distracted to reach perfection tonight. But at least the physical activity might help him sleep.

He slowed his steps slightly, as he approached the warehouse. It never hurt to be cautious. Not that there was anything here to steal, but the isolated location and basic shelter, sometimes made it an attractive place for drug deals or other illicit activities. And, although, it was a little off the beaten track, occasionally he saw signs, a fire, some garbage, that it had been used by the homeless. He'd got into the habit of checking that the place really was deserted, before flashing his sword about, just in case.

Yet, even as he pulled out his pocket torch, he didn't really expect to find anyone.

So, the faint buzz of a pre-immortal from underneath a pile of cardboard and newspaper in the far left hand corner came as something of a surprise.

"Oh, great," Duncan muttered in Gaelic. "Just bloody, great."

Not at all in the mood to deal with this right now, he briefly considered just letting whoever it was sleep on. But his conscious and his compassion got the better of him. Who knew when their paths might cross again? He ought, at least to find something out about the person and arrange things so they'd have someone to go to when their time came. Besides, the night air was bitter cold, he couldn't just leave them here, they'd like as not freeze to death. Slipping his sword out of sight, he squatted down beside the makeshift shelter.

In that instant, a foot kicked out from under the pile, catching him painfully on the ankle and causing him to fall back onto his butt, grazing all his knuckles as his hand clenched instinctively around the torch, before his brain remembered it wasn't the Katana. In the half light, a figure erupted from under the cardboard, throwing dirt at his face, which Duncan easily dodged, as the figure turned, clearly intent on taking to its heels as fast as it could in the opposite direction

"Oh, no, you don't." Duncan promised himself.

Using his prone position to his advantage, Duncan reached out to curl his hand around the ankle closet to him, and pulled sharply, causing them to loose their balance and fall back, harmlessly, onto the pile of cardboard.

At once, the figure started to buck and try to kick him away and he was forced to crawl a little further up the body before they did themselves an injury..

"Will you stop that?, I'm not going to hurt you." He managed, through gritted teeth.

"Get your fucking hands off me!"

Even distorted by terror, Duncan knew that voice.

"Richie."

The figure beneath him went completely still.

"Mac?"

"Oh, for Lord's sake .." Duncan shifted his weight off the teen and pulled him to his feet. "What in God's name are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" Richie erupted, backing away from him. "What the hell were you doing?"

"Trying to talk to you. What did you think I was trying to do?"

"Well, you sure as hell weren't bringing me flowers and buying me dinner!" Richie challenged, turning away so the Immortal wouldn't see him loose it. Pinned to the ground, he had been terrified, utterly helpless to prevent what he had been certain was coming next.

"Sorry," Duncan quipped flatly. "You're not my type."

"How the hell was I supposed to know it was you?" Richie challenged.

"Oh, I don't know, because I spoke to you, perhaps?"

"Maybe, if you'd done it in English, or some other language I actually speak."

"Oh," Duncan paused. "Gaelic," he offered, by way of apology.

"Figures." Richie gave him a small smile in return.

There was an awkward silence as they both looked at one another.

"And here was I thinking you didn't like camping."

"Mac.." Richie began.

"Not here Rich," Duncan cut him off. They were cold and tired and this was not the place to get into .. whatever this was.

"I'm not coming home."

"Fair enough. Its your choice."

"It is?" Richie blinked, he hadn't thought it would be that easy.

"Sure," Duncan playing his torch over the cut. It was pretty dirty and one corner had cracked open where Richie had scraped his face along the ground. But thankfully, the stitches themselves had held. "We can always go back to the Hospital."

Of course. Richie realised. It wouldn't be that easy. His life never was. "Its bleeding again, huh?"

"Can't you tell?" Duncan frowned.

"Its been hurting some." Richie admitted, uncomfortably.

"Did they give you a shot?"

"Two," Richie rolled his eyes.

"Two, huh?" Duncan commiserated.

"Antibiotics and Tetanus. Oh, and some cream to put on it."

"Have you eaten anything since lunchtime?"

"Is this another one of those "a packet of fruit gums does not constitute actual fruit," things?"

"I'll take that as a no." Duncan decided

***

The closer they got to the loft the edgier Richie became. Duncan pretended not to notice when he started walking more slowly, or when he deliberately moved into the shadows cast by the streetlights. But finally enough was enough.

"There's no-one there."

"Huh?"

"That's the fourth time you've looked behind you in the last 30 seconds. There's no-one there."

"You can't be sure." Richie hedged.

"I can. I am," Duncan fished, his key out of his pocket and let them both into the loft, pushing Richie ahead of him. "Four hundred years worth of sure."

He led the way through the apartment and into the kitchen.

"Well, Night Mac .." Richie turned towards his room.

"Hold on." Duncan's voice stopped him.

"Aw. C'mon Mac," Richie sounded unusually defeated. "Its been a really long day."

"Humour me." Duncan nodded at the chair.

Richie sighed, but dragged himself over to the chair.

Instead of the lecture he was expecting, the Immortal, cleaned out his cut with a deft, sure, touch, pressed a cup of hot, sweet, tea, into his hands and presented him with a cheese and mushroom omelette, which managed to be both light but filling.

"You're doing it again." Richie protested, around a mouthful.

"Talking with my mouth full?"

Richie rolled his eyes, but swallowed before responding.

"Being nice to me, when you should be mad."

"Look, Rich, if this is about tonight .. Tessa told me what happened."

"She did?" Richie blinked.

"Yeah. You did a good job looking out for her. I'm proud of you, Tough Guy." He reached over and mussed his hair.

"Yeah, I lie and steal real good," Richie said bitterly. "You guys outta have a kid you can be proud of, for going to College or something."

"We can still have that." Duncan said easily.

"Oh." Richie blushed.

"So," Duncan took a sip of his tea. "You want to tell me what were you planning on doing when Vinnie and his goons caught up with you?"

He hadn't been entirely certain. But Richie's stricken look confirmed it.

"I was kinda hoping they wouldn't find me." Richie admitted.

"Have they threatened you?"

"One of them came to Gary's house," Richie nodded. "He said Vin was real mad, cos I'd humiliated him in front of his gang and he was gonna come after me. Gary wanted me to stay, but I was afraid that would make Vin come after him too, so I spilt."

"And you couldn't go to Angie or the others, because that would put them in danger." Duncan nodded. That, at least, made sense.

"That's when I thought of Connor. I figured if I went to New York for a while the whole thing would die down. No harm done ..."

He trailed off at the look on the Immortal's face.

"You were planning on staying at the Warehouse until Friday?" Duncan said dangerously.

"Its inside. Kinda. Besides, what else was I gonna do?"

"You could have come home. Where you belong."

"C'mon Mac, what if Vinnie follows me here? It would be easy enough to trace a car like that. How many times have you told me you don't need to be worrying about me and Tess," He looked down and then away. "I didn't want you to have to make that choice."