Ritchie looked from man to man at the table, spread his hands and said "What?" Joe wiped his face from brows to chin with one hand, turned and looked at Duncan. Methos leaned back in his chair, laced both hands behind his neck and cocked his head at Duncan. His face wore that, "I'm so easily entertained grin". For a split second Duncan wanted to take Methos smirking grin off of his face about three inches below his chin. Duncan opened his mouth to speak and his cell phone began to ring in his pocket.
He frowned, took it out. Looked at it and then at the guys, "It's Amanda, I'd better take this." Excusing himself from the table he took a few steps away from the others for a little privacy.
Answering the phone, his voice was tired "MacLeod".
"Duncan it's me, Amanda. Duncan, would you be a good little Boy Scout and come over here tomorrow morning? I'm going to need some things and I figure your platinum card just might cover them. Oh, and wear comfortable shoes, I'm using you as a pack mule. A woman in my condition shouldn't have to lug packages around town all day. 10 A.M., sharp. I don't want to miss any shopping time. That's it, TA TA."
Duncan stood there staring at the phone. He hadn't said a word and couldn't think of anything to say. He had to chuckle. That was Amanda, the consummate Adaptionist. Chameleons had nothing on her. Faced with being the center of the most monumental event in immortal history and how does she react? She uses it as an excuse to shop. He started to laugh again until he remembered her words. His platinum card! Smiling, he wondered if you could actually melt a credit card by using it too much?
He turned back to the table. Ritchie and the others were looking at him in anticipation. His worry and stress returned.
Amanda hung up the phone. Sat down on her couch. Opened a bottle of nail polish and carefully started to paint each toenail scarlet. After all she might not be able to reach them in a few days. She was going to have to keep Duncan close to her. She wasn't sure how well she could handle a sword once she became gravid. She'd seen pregnant women walk. They had that ever so unattractive waddle, it looked for all the world as though they were trying to smuggle soccer balls by clutching them between their thighs. Sort of a lead-with-the-tummy penguin walk. It was definitely going to be hard to fight in that state. She stopped painting, she was suddenly furious "Platinum card be dammed. That was not nearly enough... Duncan was going to suffer right along beside her." There was a part of her that knew she was being totally irrational. After all Duncan really had nothing to do with what was happening to her. But there was the other hormonal side that said, "If, I have to be miserable, then I'm taking someone down with me and Duncan is as good as any!" She returned to painting her toes and hummed lullabies that had been old when she was a girl. She caught herself and wondered at her ability to remember those old, old songs. She'd have to talk to Methods, see if he remembered any of the same ones. It was good to have friends, good not to be alone at this time. As she put the second coat on her last toe, she idly wondered if there weren't any more smores and green olives. That hadn't been half bad. Maybe she had some carrot juice to go with it.