Date: Tue, 31 Oct 1995 00:52:22 -0500 Reply-To: Hobert@AOL.COM Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: K Robnett Subject: WANTING TO GET A HEAD, Part 2 of 3 ---------------- Richie dozed by the fire all afternoon, never looking at anything but the flames. He wasn't so worried about seeing Tessa in her underwear. After all, they did have a glass shower next to the dining area! No, it was her reaction to him in his undies that kept him from interacting with the other two. How could he ever hope to compare with MacLeod? The floor was dirty, but he didn't mind as he sprawled in front of the flame, drowsy from the soft patter of rain. Behind him, the pair whispered and giggled, their words unintelligible. Not that Richie was trying to eavesdrop. As night fell, Duncan placed Richie's dry camouflage pants within reach. It was difficult to wiggle into them with his injured arm, but he was damned if MacLeod had to dress him. The Highlander was once again in his tuxedo pants from last night. His vest, which Tessa had borrowed for the showing, was the only clothing on his torso. Tessa walked in from the next room as Richie stood, handing him his green jacket. The artist was wearing Duncan's travel pants, and his tux jacket. "I hope we don't run into the fashion police, out here," she joked, turning around for their inspection. "I'll be glad if we run into anyone out here," Richie replied, shrugging on his jacket. The leather felt good against his cold skin, still warm from Tessa's body heat. As if on cue, his stomach growled, loud enough to echo in the room. "A pizza delivery guy would be heaven." Duncan looked out the window. "I don't think so," he said, gauging the weather. The perpetual storm was starting to strengthen, the sound of rain battering the walls steadily growing. "There may be some more berries..." Richie snorted, interrupting the Highlander. "Berries won't cut it, Mac. I'm talking food. Real food." The anger he had been keeping check all afternoon threatened to boil over. The pain, the cold, the wet air; all combined in the heat Richie felt. If wasn't like he'd never been alone, at night in the cold. But in the city, there was always a shelter,a home, that would take you in with minimal fuss, at least for the night. Out here, there was only Duncan MacLeod - Great White Hunter. "I could see if I could snare a rabbit...." The mental picture of picking meat off a small bone drove Richie over the edge. "Like hell. We wouldn't *be* in this mess if we had acted like normal people and gone on an airline." Angrily, he shoved a finger at MacLeod. "But you have to be so different, and trust our lives on that deathtrap of a paper airplane...." He trailed off when he saw the emotion drain off on Duncan's face. That did *not* come out at all as he had intended. Richie had not consciously thought of the Highlander's immortality, but that's how Duncan was taking it. Too upset to apologize, and too ashamed to continue, he stuttered, "forget it." He stormed from the room, too quickly for anyone to stop him. ---------------- Richie used his energy to explore the upstairs. As he examined the deserted rooms, he could hear the soft conversation of Duncan and Tessa below. Angry at himself, the young man kicked at the trash gathered in the rooms, not expecting to find anything. He searched by occasional flashes of lightning, in no hurry to finish the job. I really screwed that up, he chided himself. He still was unable to categorize Duncan MacLeod, and the strange fascination the Immortal had with him. It could be just like he was told, that Duncan and Tessa wanted to give him a break. A line Richie had heard several times in his life. It always ended up the same. "You don't seem to be fitting in," the foster mother said. "He's not integrating well," the orphanage director told his social worker. "We treat you like our own child, and this is the thanks we get?" the man yelled before throwing him out on the street, his only possessions the clothes on his back. Richie imagined what Duncan would say. Tessa would have gone out of town, unable to bear the unpleasant situation. MacLeod would approach him in the office, dressed for some engagement or other. "It's not working out," Duncan would finally say, after dancing around in verbal circles until he found the moment to speak those words. "You're a good kid, and all...," he'd offer, a consolation prize. Then he'd reach out a hand, from under his coat, holding an envelope full of bills. As if money would solve Richie's problems. "I need to go," he'd close with, turning around and leaving. The request to be gone by the time he got back would remain unspoken, but not unheard. Richie didn't want to live on the streets again. He was too old for foster homes and the like. Hell, he was eighteen, a man. There might be enough cash to get a place at the "Y". Find a job, try to build another life again. Alone, again. Something else would happen; it always did. He'd run out of money, or get into trouble. End up in jail, this time as an adult, or worse, dead. The troubled youth was so lost in thought, he almost missed the small light outside one of the back windows. It flittered, though remaining in one place, like a campfire or such. Just down the rise, hidden away in the trees. So excited about the light, he did miss the dark, human shape standing just inside the clearing, watching the house. ---------------- Of all the things Duncan expected out here, another of his kind wasn't one of them. With a start, he looked around the room, vainly trying to determine the direction the other Immortal was. He raced to his sword, motioning Tessa to a corner, standing in front of her. It was a difficult position to be in, visible inside a lit room to anyone outside. With care, he positioned the sword behind his arm, hoping the weapon was hidden in the dim light. They might be left alone if they were perceived as harmless. Footsteps pounded on the stairs, then Richie raced into the room. For a brief second Duncan hoped it was the young man he had felt, but the idea evaporated when Richie stepped into range. "Mac, you won't...." "Not now," Duncan barked. His eyes flitted from the window, to the two doors, straining to hear any sound of someone approaching. Richie could wait. The teenager was somewhat confused. Why was Duncan ignoring him? "There's something I think..." "I said *not* *now*," Duncan replied, wishing Richie would be quiet for a moment. Was that a footstep? Did the Immortal feel closer? How could he protect two mortals? "Mac...," Richie pleaded, taking a step toward the pair. "SHUT UP!" Duncan screamed. Richie froze. Their eyes locked, and the Highlander realized that some unspoken agreement between the two of them had been breached. Duncan watched something die, deep within the young man's blue eyes. They were cold and hard again, full of fear, like the first night they had met. Only this wasn't fear of just Duncan. This was deeper. Richie vanished out the doorway, his running footsteps growing faint. Weighing his choices, Duncan stood his ground, waiting for the other Immortal. There would always be time later to sort things out with the youth. ---------------- It was cold, and dark outside. But so torn up inside, Richie didn't notice. The storm had stopped, and in its place, a chill wind blew. But it was colder still in the young man's heart. Instincts had taken over when Duncan had yelled, habits formed through three orphanages and four foster homes. It was always better to not be around when the old man shouted like that. Any of them. He stumbled through branches, trying to protect his face with his one good arm. Now, he wished he had gotten someone to zip up the jacket. Cold air blew underneath it, creating goose bumps on his bare flesh. Try as he might, he couldn't get the zipper started with one hand. Blindly, the young man walked, no longer able to guess where the house or plane wreckage was. The stream sounded close, though. Turning to his left, he crashed through the underbrush, startled when he saw a campfire after passing a tree. Possibly the same one he had seen out the window. They were rescued! Without a thought, he stumbled to the light, bursting into a deserted clearing, only a fire in the center. It was hot, and Richie welcomed the blaze, moving closer to warm his frozen hands. His teeth were chattering so much he never heard the stranger approach, yelping when the hand touched his shoulder. He turned, and stared at the new arrival, his mind freezing when he saw who, or what, it was. ---------------- "Duncan, you fell asleep," Tessa gently spoke, shaking her lover's shoulder. With a start, the Highlander sat up, instantly awake from his light doze. Almost as soon as Richie had left, the Immortal had disappeared as well. Tessa and Duncan had sat in the corner, the Highlander in front of Tessa, and talked, waiting for Richie to make an appearance. For the third time in as many months, he asked her if she was fine with his decision to take in the kid. "It's difficult to suddenly have a complete stranger in your house," was his argument. Each time, Tessa had replied more and more sympathetically, warming up to the young man faster than Duncan had. Tonight, she wouldn't hear of letting Richie leave. The Highlander smiled, and kissed her. Silently, he thanked the gods that such a loving and warm woman was his companion. Sometime during their talk, Duncan had fallen asleep, the rigors of the last twenty-four hours taking their toll. Tessa napped as well. The fire had died to glowing embers and the room was almost pitch black. A strained look at his pocket watch told the Highlander almost six hours had passed. And no sign of Richie. It only took ten minutes for Tessa to reignite the fire and Duncan to search the house. Richie was gone. Probably right after Duncan had yelled at him. That was why the Immortal left, Duncan theorized. A quick curse escaped his lips. If he could feel the pre-Immortal, someone else might. Stepping into the last room upstairs, Duncan was surprised to see a faint light flickering outside the window. Walking to the glass, he was still unable to make out any details. The fire, or whatever, was hidden deep within the trees. *That's* what Richie had been trying to tell him. Not wishing to leave Tessa behind, the two stole away from the house, Duncan clutching his lover's hand in one of his own, his katana in the other. The light was invisible from the first floor, so they had no guide as they entered the forest. =========================================================================