Disclaimer - My name is found nowhere in conjunction with Highlander. I do not own any of the characters, or concepts used in this fan fiction.
Journal 2,014 Entry 210
Have I ever mentioned that I am not a fan of holidays? I mean some are all right, and I can say there is one or two I do miss. It is these commercialized modern holidays that I have issues with.
The fact that I have nothing to give Ritchie has absolutely nothing to do with it.
Oh, sure I have some little, general things for him; a new racing jacket, some CDs. What I am looking for, what I NEED is that one gift that says something.
That perfect gift.
I know that there is no such thing as perfect. But what I have with my Brat is as close to perfection as I can honestly remember being.
More than 5000 years old and this child feels as if he is my other half.
He completes me.
I can honestly say that I love him.
With Alexia, it was more the idea of love, the possibility that never reached, that could never reach fruition.
She was the first person that I had cared deeply for in close to 2 centuries. She brought me out of my self. If I had never given her the chance, if SHE had never given ME the chance, I doubt I would have looked twice at Duncan's ward.
Even now I cannot say what it is that draws me to him. But I know this, while not the first, Ritchie is the person that I can say I love with every piece of my psyche, of my soul. He is not the first, but I have a feeling, a knowledge almost, that he will be my last and only.
The fact that it took me almost 4000 years to feel this way again, is a bit unsettling. The first time I felt this way, the feeling was the same, that same sense of completion of home, but nowhere near the shear strength of what I feel with my Brat.
When I lost my first beloved, Death roamed the land. I am frightened to think what I might do, if I ever lost Ritchie. Should he ever die, I think whatever remains of my soul may go with him when Thanatos comes to collect.
And here I go again with the morbid thoughts.
Everyone has been telling me that I seem down lately, and Duncan, DUNCAN! The king of dark brooding thoughts, of self-flagellation, has accused me of the same.
The horror, the shame!
And now I sound like a damsel in distress.
I wonder if I should start to wax poetic about My Love Fair;
The greatest expanse of crystal skies,
Are caught in the depths of my lover's eyes.
Willowy his body, slender and fair,
As it hides fierce strength and gentlest care.
Forever his heart I know is mine,
Forever My Brat, like the sun does shine.
Okay, not my best work, but I couldn't figure out how to include 'icy his feet, at night on my legs, the heat does resolve whenever he begs'.
Next thing you know I'm going to start buying wedding catalogues and giggling whenever …
That's it!
Got to go, I need to plan how to steal a ring.
As Methos closed his journal a peaceful thoughtful look came to his face. The moment he had set his coarse, he knew it was the right one.
He may have had 68 wives, and many a male lover, but from before Death he had never thought to take a husband. An even greater sign that Ritchie was the one.
Happy he made his way towards where Ritchie was curled up on the sofa.