February 21, 1999, Seacouver, Washington

Richie slowed his motorcycle to a stop, removed his helmet, and fluffed his hair in the yellow and red reflection of himself. He was late again. Supposed that was what he got for talking to Angie. But he was glad he did. He missed Angie.

Almost as much as he missed Tessa. Except Angie was alive, and he had no excuse not to see her again.

Fastening the helmet over the bike's handlebars, he jogged up the fifty-two steps to Mira's apartment, and smoothing his leather jacket over his blue jeans, he knocked on the door. "Hey," he smiled when she opened the door, stepping aside, a wide smile on her face, motioning for him to come inside. He leaned forward to kiss her, doing so quickly but with a tenderness that surprised even him. "Just about ready to go?"

"Just about. Just let me find my coat and keys." She closed the door behind them, and stepped further into the apartment. "We're having dinner with your friend Connor tonight, yes?"

"Correct. You'll get to meet Mac too."

"Your roommate, right?"

"Right." Richie shifted uncomfortably where he stood. So," he brightened again, "you wouldn't happen to speak Gaelic, would you?"

"I know a few words. Mostly endearments my mum and dad used from when my brother, sister and I were growing up."

"You have a sister?"

"Yes, she's younger. Why do you ask? About the Gaelic."

"Both speak Gaelic. They're from Scotland, originally, and something slip back into their brouges when they don't think I'm paying attention." Richie shrugged again, and he suddenly grinned. "They don't realize just how much I've picked up from hearing them speak it all the time."

"Well, my parents spoke the Irish-Gaelic dialect, but good for you." She stepped into her bedroom briefly, calling through the open doorway, "What time do we have to be there?"

"About five. It's only a few minutes after four now."

Mira emerged from the bedroom again, her coat on, and her keys dangling from her left hand, the keys of which, she quickly tossed into a purse sitting on the couch. She checked to see if her cellphone was already in there, and seeing it was, she zipped the purse close, and smiled at Richie. "So, how are we getting there?"

Richie's previous grin broadened considerably. "That depends. Ever ride on a motorcycle before?"

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When Richie and Mira pulled into Connor's driveway, Duncan's T-bird was already there. They weren't late, Richie knew that. A quick glance at his watch confirmed that they were in fact five minutes early, which meant Duncan probably had left long before he had finished at the library. Which probably meant Duncan and Connor had been talking, talking about him and them and Scotland and mutual lost friends and non-mutual lost friends. Richie shook his head, pulled his helmet off, stepped off the bike, and turned to see how Mira had fared.

"You ok back there?" he asked. He extended a hand to help her off, but she laughingly pushed him away, standing while she simultaneously removed her helmet. "Take you enjoyed the ride?"

"Enjoyed? That was possibly the most exhilarating thing I think I've done." She latched onto his arm. "When we can go again?"

"How about when I drive you home tonight?" Richie laughed. He leaned down to kiss her. There was that rare tenderness again. He didn't understand it, but smiling he pulled slightly away, and offered her his arm, an offer this time she gladly took.

He had been hanging around Duncan for too long. He was starting to act like a gentleman.

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They found Connor and Duncan sitting in Connor's living room, both with mugs of tea in hands, listening to quiet music in the background, talking in low tones in Gaelic. Richie smiled knowingly, and introduced Mira. He paid very close attention to Duncan's face as he did so, and for the briefest second, so quickly it was gone before Richie could be certain, he thought he saw Duncan's entire being fall. But maybe that was just because he wanted to see something of that respect. Because then Duncan stepped in after Connor, shook Mira's hand and very warmly told her how nice it was to meet her.

The dinner itself was a disaster. Mira's cellphone rang twice—both times it was her brother—both times Mira apologized profusely, "Really, I am sorry about that. He's just worried. Our parents are leaving for holiday soon, and he thinks its our job to know their every move." Duncan's cellphone rang once, who when seeing who it was, he promptly silenced and ignored, saying he'd call the person back after dinner, Mira was allergic to peanuts and couldn't eat the sauce Connor had prepared to go with the pasta, and Connor spent the entire time trying to engage Duncan into conversation, quietly chiding the younger Highlander when he tried to go back to their earlier conversation topic. "Not now," he'd say.

It was a disaster. Richie sighed. He knew this would be a bad idea. But after dinner, Mira excused herself politely to use the water closet, and Connor excused himself to see to the cake he had in the oven, which left Richie and Duncan alone on the couch. Sitting on opposite ends, Richie scooted closer, and very cautiously, reached his hand over for Duncan's. Duncan didn't pull away, which Richie took to be a good sign. He loosely knotted their fingers together but still stared straight ahead.

"You hate her," he spoke quietly.

"No, I don't hate her. Actually, she's quite a nice girl.. Exactly the type of girl I'd like to see you go out with." Duncan sighed. "I think I'm just bitter because things didn't work with Lisa as well I would have liked."

"What happened?"

"She wasn't Tessa, and I kept wanting her to be."

"So, you're jealous?"

"In a small way, a little, yes. I cann't seem to move on, Rich. You've been able to. I'm envious of you for that."

"It makes sense. You're relationship with Tessa was special." Richie paused, realizing something, he leaned in close to Duncan, bringing his other hand up to touch Duncan's chin and swing his head around slightly sot ehri eyes met. "You know I won't leave you, right?"

"I know," Duncan sighed, "I know. Amen to that much at least."

Richie chuckled softly, and leaned into give Duncan a very quick peck before squeezing his hand nd letting go, mumbling something about how he could smell the cake from in here, and greeting Mira with a little jig as she came back from the bathroom. He met Duncan's eyes over her head and smiled. Duncan's smile may have been a little forced in return, but he did smile.

Richie relaxed. Dessert was much better than dinner.