Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.
Chapter 33
Rick smiled as he watched Jeff with his camera. He had the window seat, which Rick was happy about. The kid could take pictures looking down at the world spread below him. Plus, it was a good excuse for Rick to not have to sit in the window seat. Emmy was sitting across the aisle from him, and he could not help but stare at her for a moment. Somehow, she managed to look beautiful just sitting in an airplane. He could not believe even now that someone as extraordinary as she was found him worth her interest. He also could not believe he was dating someone this old. Emmy was everything he had ever wanted. She was kind, thoughtful, and expressive. She understood about passion and drive, and she did not mind waiting when there was stuff he really was not ready to talk about. She let him be himself, no judgments, and no preconceptions. He wondered if that was because she was an Immortal, or because she was Emmy. Either way, she made him happier than anyone in his short life.
She must have felt his eyes on her, because she turned to look at him from across the aisle. 'What?' she mouthed with a smile on her face.
He shook his head. How could he tell her that he was just admiring everything about her? It was wonderful to have her and Jeff on this journey. He felt like he was going back in time. It was a weird, surreal feeling to be flying back to Paris after all these years away. He thought back to what had made him leave. How he had felt. How angry, scared, and alone he had been. Methos had actually been his savior then.
Paris, France Middle of 1997
Richie hung up the phone and started toward the empty building. He was determined to help Mac stop this demon at all costs. As he ran in, he saw Mac being circled by some of his greatest foes... and by himself... and attacking them wildly. This froze him for a moment. Mac's flashing katana did not seem to touch any of them. He was just about to step forward and help when another Horton stood beside him. The man's oily voice said, "I'd wait if I was you."
At that moment, steel came in contact with flesh, and one of the ghosts went down. It was himself. Richie stared as the Quickening rose and engulfed Mac.
Horton smirked at him nastily. "You see Richie, Mac wants you dead. He's tired of having to take care of you. Are you really going to let him kill you? This isn't your fight. Walk away and it will all be over for you."
He knew, now, that this was not Horton. Horton was dead and this was a demon. He wavered in confused fear. "I can't! Mac is my friend! He needs me to defeat you."
"If you stay in this, Richie, next time I'll make sure Mac is so confused that it really is you lying on the ground. I can do that you know. It would be so easy. Instead, all you have to do is leave. Just walk out now, and you can live and Mac can fight this battle the way he's supposed to, just him against me." The tone was no less oily, a nasty smirk on the fake face of Horton.
Richie wanted to argue, but his self-preservation was beginning to kick in. This was not the first time Mac had almost killed him. He was sure that the demon was telling the truth, and this time it would not be on purpose. He nodded, his knees trembling. "Okay, I'm gone. Mac doesn't need my help. He can do this on his own." He faced the Horton-faced demon, "He will defeat you."
"I don't think so," it sneered.
Richie turned and fled towards the door, and almost ran into Joe and Methos. He pulled them aside, "Joe, Adam, I don't know who he killed today, but it wasn't me. But when you get up there, it's going to look like me. Please, Joe, play along with it. I need to leave."
The two men nodded, and moved past Richie, hurrying toward MacLeod. When Joe saw the body on the floor, he began to cry. Richie found himself uncertain if Joe was just faking, or if he was not sure he was in his right mind. Either way, he could not take anymore. He left the building as quickly as he could.
He went to his apartment and started packing. He did not know what to do, but he knew that this time he was leaving Paris for good, or at least for this lifetime. That was when he decided he would ask Methos for help. If anyone could help him, it was the old-timer. After all, he was one of the most deceptive men that Richie had ever met.
He felt a hand touch his shoulder, bringing him back from his memories to the present. It was Jeff, who said with concern, "You look nervous."
Rick considered the drawn look on Jeff's face and countered gently, "So do you, and you're not even facing something that's been sitting left undone for fourteen years."
Jeff laughed wryly. "Nah, I'm just taking pictures. I've even taken a few in Paris before. Not of a professional standard, but not bad. Even if I do say so myself."
"When did you take pictures in Paris before?"
"When I met Joe Dawson. Back before I ever became your Watcher."
Rick nodded, "Ah, of course, I forgot you'd been here before."
"Yup, and I loved every second of it. Well, except for the snooty people who wouldn't talk to me once they realized I was American. Oh, and of course the cab drivers, but that goes without saying. All cab drivers suck."
It was Rick's turn to laugh. Jeff certainly had a unique perspective. It was part of his charm. "Your view of the world kills me, you know that?"
"Yeah, well everyone's thinking it. I just say it. That's the only difference."
"It's in the way you say it, Jeff, like you are the authority."
"You never know Rick, maybe I am. I've had some wild, troubled teen years of my own, you know. We just don't talk about my past as much."
Rick considered him carefully, their long Watcher-Immortal relationship had mostly skated the shallows. He asked, "Jeff, did the Watchers save you?"
"What?" Jeff looked confused.
"Did the Watchers save you?" Rick asked again, looking intently at him.
"I guess so. Them and about twenty Hispanic and Haitian mothers, who felt the need to take care of me when my own mother wouldn't. Why the sudden interest?"
Rick shook his head. "It's hard to explain. Don't worry about it."
The rest of the plane ride was silent. Both men were thinking about how things would be when they finally landed in Paris.
