AN – thanks to Neoinean, (what's good for the goose y'know .. waiting for your next chapter too grins) SC, (don't worry plenty of Mac/Richie interaction coming up) Moone 31 (I'm so glad you liked it and I'm writing as fast as life allows) and Ivy (Darius is a big part of this and he did used to be a warrior after all!) for to all for the loyal reviews. I hope everyone enjoys the next instalment.

As Darius drew closer, Duncan felt his anxiety mount. To all outward appearances, the priest moved with his usual air of calm serenity, but the thin tight planes of his face spoke of a level of anxiety Duncan had never before witnessed in his implacable mentor.

"Darius, what's wrong?"

"Desperate times, my friend," Darius spared him only a brief glance, before his gaze settled on Adam. "I didn't know you were back in town."

Adam tipped his head to one side in something of an apology, Duncan thought. "It wasn't exactly planned."

Behind him Richie snorted.

"I see," Darius said as if he didn't at all. "I had a message, from Tibet."

"Ah."

"So, it is true?"

"That depends. What did the message say?"

Everything about Darius suddenly became wary and Duncan was forcibly reminded that this man who had spent centuries preaching ways of peace had been raised as a great warrior and that whole continents had bowed to his will.

"You didn't send it?"

"Not in this lifetime," Adam turned his collar up against the increasing drizzle. "Can we discuss this somewhere warmer? My shoes are leaking."

"We can go back to the barge, I want to get Tessa home anyway," Duncan looked darkly at his teacher. "Then you owe me some answers."

"We'll go to Holy Ground," Connor disagreed. "She'll be safer there."

"But she'll feel safer at home," Richie unexpectedly came to Duncan's aid. "And I think between the six of us we can probably manage."

"You think, do you?" Connor snorted. "Well, this is a fine time to start."

Duncan winced at the scathing tone. Worried or not Connor clearly hadn't forgotten that the lad had disobeyed his orders to stay at home. Although on second thoughts he should have realised that his kinsman's concern would only fuel his ire. Connor Macleod didn't do worried well.

Amazingly, Richie didn't seem remotely fazed, straightening to his full height he looked Connor straight in the eye. "I don't know about you," His tone was soft but resolute. "But I've been practising."

"You're not ready!"

"Connor, that's not exactly helpful." Adam shook his head.

"No, its alright," Richie squared up to Connor. "I can fight my own battles."

"I told you not to follow me."

"You know what, you actually followed me here. You weren't even supposed to be in Paris .."

"Ah, so you thought I've never find out is that it?" Connor scoffed.

"I thought you'd find my Dad!"

In the stunned silence that followed, Richie turned away from the stricken looks worn by Connor and the others. Duncan watched out of the corner of his eye as the lad bit his lip and visibly struggled to bring his feelings under control.

"Risteard," Connor said at last. Gently. Almost conciliatorily.

"You know him better than anyone Connor," Richie's tone was remarkably even, especially given that from where he was standing Duncan could see the raw anguish that was still very evident in his expression. "If you can't find him, then no-one can."

"Perhaps that's just what he wants." Adam suggested lightly.

Richie shook his head once, a hard negative. "He wouldn't just disappear. What if something happened to him? He'd leave something. A Clan marker. A sign. Something."

"We don't know that." Connor soothed. "He could just be taking care that Ares has to trail to follow."

"Shall we check?" Richie laughed, a harsh painful sound. He looked up and saw Duncan watching him. "If you had had to hide a pre-immortal child from an Immortal who was hunting you, would you just trust to luck that he wouldn't whack you?"

Duncan hesitated. He knew such a strategy was far too risky. Nobody could afford to be that arrogant, especially when another's life was at stake. He always ensured that at least two other trusted friends knew about the existence and location of any pre-immortal he was watching. That way their future was assured even if his was not. But he doubted that was the answer the lad stricken needed to hear.

To his amazement, Richie seemed to read the answer in his expression. "That's kinda what I thought." He nodded softly. He blinked up at Duncan and his eyes were bright with tears. "Its pretty cold out here. You should get Tessa home. I'll meet you there."

Without another word he swung his leg over the waiting motorcycle and gunned it into life, before jamming the helmet onto his head.

"Wait!" Duncan felt compelled to say something, anything. "You don't even know where it is."

"I'll find it." Richie sped off in a spray of wet.

Duncan followed his progress as the stream of his exhaust as it marked his trail along the riverbank.

"This man he thinks of as his father. He's dead isn't he?"

"I don't know," Connor admitted, his tone heavy with grief. "But I'm afraid he may be."

In truth Duncan was glad of the assembled company. He knew he would have to face the sharp edge of Tessa's temper soon enough, when he told her about the Game. But he'd much rather take his chances when she was well rested and relaxed. As he tucked the sheets a little more securely around her sleeping figure the familiar and reassuring odours emanating from the kitchen told him Connor had wasted no time in making himself at home.

So, it was with a raised eyebrow that he popped his head around the galley door to see Adam directing operations, as Darius sliced and diced, with Connor up to his elbows in hot, soapy water.

"You make a fine pot boy, kinsman." He teased.

Connor scowled and flicked a ball of bubbles at him that Duncan easily sidestepped.

"Do you mind?" Adam glared at them both as he quickly moved the sizzling pan out of harm's way from a stray dollop of suds. Returning the pan to the heat he gave it a brisk stir. "If he's gone to McDonalds, I'm going to kill him."

"Maybe he got lost," Duncan offered. "How well does he know Paris?"

The sudden wash of an immortal presence silenced all discussion.

"Richie?" Duncan asked. "Or Ares?"

"Let's not take any chances." Connor decided, gathering Adam with a glance to stand sentry by the front door, leaving Duncan to cover the far door, beside which Tessa slept on oblivious. To Duncan's astonishment, Darius took up position beside him, a very businesslike broadsword emerging from the depths of his robe. In response to the Scot's incredulous expression he simply shrugged.

The sound of the lock turning on the front door was swiftly followed by the arrival of a blonde, curly head.

"Whoa, chill, its just me."

Sensibly, in Duncan's opinion, the lad stood stock still with his arms extended and his palms open, looking as unthreatening as possible as all breathed a sigh of relief and put up their blades. Even among friends carelessness or bravado in the face of a naked blade could cause a nasty, even a fatal accident. Someone had taught the lad well.

Duncan just wasn't entirely sure that someone was Connor.

Or at least, not just Connor.

"Make yourself at home, why don't you?"

The lad's head whipped round sharply at the dry tone. Duncan simply waited. This Richie had been quick enough to read him before. Chances were his message would come through loud and clear.

"Sorry," Sure enough, the lad's whole posture relaxed at the oblique apology and he offered the Scot a shy smile. "Old habits. Where I come from, knocking just gives people more time to get ready to shoot you."

"Richard, I presume," Darius stepped forward and offered his hand. "I understand that we have met before in another time but I'm afraid I have no recollection of it."

"That's OK," Richie reached forward to shake Darius' hand. "From what I remember we don't actually meet for a while yet, anyway. Its good to see you."

"We didn't meet until you were seventeen?" Darius looked troubled.

"Eighteen actually," Richie "Maa .. um .. we were in Seacouver before that."

"You two know each other?" Duncan blinked.

"I've known of him, for quite a while," Darius admitted. "I only wish our paths could have crossed sooner."

"Its later than you think," Adam spoke up. "And you wouldn't be meeting now if the boy Robin here could take a hint."

"You shot me," Richie countered as he sank wearily onto the couch and tipped his head back, closing his eyes. "You didn't really expect me to take that lying down. Besides, I needed to come." He waved a vague hand in the direction of their earlier confrontation with Ares.

"You couldn't just have trusted me to take care of it?" Adam looked down with concern at the gaunt lines of tension on the otherwise youthful face.

Richie opened one eye and regarded him warily. "Did I screw something up?"

"The six of us?"

"Ah, that," To Duncan's eye Richie looked for all the world like a kid who had gotten caught sneaking out when he was grounded. "You were the one who re-set all the security protocols. You must have known I couldn't get through them without Amanda's help and she always has her price."

"So, you brought her along." Adam sighed.

"Amanda's here?" Duncan squawked with a lurch of alarm that had nothing to do with the current crisis. "In Paris?"

"Don't worry," Richie turned his head and regarded him with a look of understanding. "I booked her into the Ritz and let her think that she had lifted my credit card. She'll be having far too much fun spending my money to come here and stir up any trouble with Tess."

Duncan was impressed. It was exactly the kind of tactics he had used to keep Amanda occupied in the past. It was guaranteed to be effective and very, very expensive. He was touched that the lad had gone to so much trouble to solve something that was essentially his problem.

"When you get the bill, I'll cover it."

Richie opened his mouth to tell the Scot that it was no problem he was good for the cash. But the look in Duncan's eyes was so warm, and familiar that he was powerless to refuse him.

"Thanks," He smiled. "I guess I owe you one, huh?"

"Actually, I think I owe you one, well, two actually," Duncan looked away, feeling slightly abashed at the need to make so public an apology. Still, as he had been willing enough to ream the lad out as the world and his wife looked on it seemed only fitting. "About this afternoon,"

"Mac, its OK, I understand," Richie assured him earnestly. "You were just lookin' out for Tessa."

The odd thing was that Duncan had the impression that he truly did understand. The Scot knew that he had a tendency to be over protective with those he loved and that he was not always rational when their welfare was threatened.

"Still," Duncan gave a rueful shrug. "I'm sorry."

"I know." Richie smiled.

"Happy as I am for the two of you," Adam cut in. "Amanda's arrival has left us with rather more of a problem than whether or not Tessa will decide to take a rusty knife to the Macleod family jewels."

"I'll thank you to leave me out of this. Amanda and I are not a couple," Three sets of eyes swivelled towards Connor and he had the grace to blush and add. "Well, not anymore."

"Connor!" Duncan exclaimed, shocked.

"It was a long time ago, Duncan," Connor tried to pour oil on troubled water. "You know what it used to be like when a woman alone managed a business. We ran an alehouse together for a time."

"An alehouse?" Darius' lips quirked into a small smile. "I always thought that little house on the corner of Rue St Henri was a brothel."

"Yes alright," Connor huffed. "Don't we have other business to attend to? Like how we are going to defeat Ares?"

"We?" Richie went to put his feet on the coffee table, only to halt them in mid air inches about the polished wood and glance apologetically at the Scot. "Sorry, I keep forgetting I'm not at home."

"And would your Da let you do that?"

"If he was in a good mood he would." Richie flashed him a winsome smile that Duncan warranted had melted harder hearts than his. And the lad had undoubtedly saved Tessa's life that day. Still, there were limits. He leaned in a little closer and swatted the boots back to the floor, biting back a grin when Richie produced a perfect teenage pout.

"Take your boots off first."

Only as the lad laboriously reached over to pick ineffectually at one of the buckles did Duncan realise how close to exhaustion Richie really was. He saw the others exchange similar looks of concern, but to his surprise it was Adam who dropped to the floor and batted Richie's hands away, his touch deft and sure as he worked the stiff, wet, leather.

"Thanks," Richie leant back again and closed his eyes. "Gotta conserve my energy for the big game, right?" he murmured.

Suddenly, Adam froze, as his face drained of blood and went completely expressionless.

"You planned this," he realised. "You wanted us all here to force Ares' hand."

Richie's eyes snapped open, wide with surprise, as if he'd only just realised that he had said more than he'd intended. But he met Adam's gaze with clear challenge.

"I didn't choose to fight Ares, or even to be any part of this. The only choice that dammed prophecy gave me was where the fight takes place. Well, I choose here, with all my friends and family around me. So, let him bring it on, I'm ready."

"And you don't think another hundred years or so might have helped?"

Richie surged to his feet in a move Duncan recognised as driven by pure adrenalin. He saw the faint tremor that ran through the lad's hands and wondered when he had lad ate or slept.

"And in the meantime, I get to stand back and watch him pick off the rest my family one by one? No way. This ends now. I'm not going to let that bastard touch a single other person I love."

"Look at you," Adam had obviously spotted it too, because he seized Richie's shaking hand and held it up in front of his face. "You're in no shape to fight."

"Then help me," Richie demanded. "Because this is going to happen whether you like it or not."