Duncan MacLeod stared glumly across the loft to where Methos busied himself in the kitchen. The world's oldest immortal had moved himself into Duncan's life and had been cheerfully persistent in attempting to lift Duncan's mood. Bright and bubbly, he put the final touches on a salad he had first thrown together for Julius Caesar. Placing the hopefully appetizing salad on a tray along with a modest glass of a fine merlot, he carried it over to the dour Scot. He set it with a flourish on the coffee table in front of MacLeod. "There you go, Duncan! A meal fit for an emperor, and I should know," he chuckled, waiting expectantly.
MacLeod eyes shifted listlessly to the fluffy mass of vegetables. "Gosh, Methos. You know I appreciate your efforts, but I just can't. Not today."
Methos looked stricken; he had been knocking himself out preparing his best recipies for Duncan every night, but still his brawny friend was losing weight. "Oh Duncan! I can't bear to see you this way! What is wrong? You have to tell me!"
MacLeod looked ashamed. "I wish I could tell you, but then you'd hate me."
Methos was affronted. "Never! Never could I hate you! Besides," he paused, glancing furtively over his shoulder as if forever haunted by his own unforgiving ghosts, "I, too, have done things that I wish I hadn't. Regrets are something you have to learn to live with; let me help you!"
Duncan turned his soulful brown eyes hopefully to his slender friend. "If only I could…."
Suddenly, both men turned expectantly towards the loft's elevator just as its aged motor groaned to life.
Methos stood and moved protectively in front of MacLeod. "Are you expecting anyone, Highlander?"
MacLeod was confused and a little fearful; the last few months had been hard on him. "No," he stuttered. "No one."
The gate opened and Richie Ryan strode out. "MacLeod. Methos," he addressed them confidently.
Methos' eyes widened as he stared at the golden youngster. Curly locks hugged the boy's head in ringlets worthy of Adonis. A royal blue shirt bulged open to the waist, barely constraining the finest set of abs and pecs Methos had ever had the pleasure to see. His black jeans revealed powerfully muscular thighs and a tight, trim ass. The months spent away from MacLeod had been surprisingly good to the kid. His mouth watered as Richie strode into the loft.
"Wow! You look great, Richie! Doesn't he look great, MacLeod?" he asked. He turned to Duncan and was shaken to his friend in tears.
"Oh Richie!" MacLeod cried. "I can't forgive myself for nearly killing you!"
Richie's expression darkened briefly, but then it cleared and it was as if the sun came out. "It's all right, Duncan. I know it was a Dark Quickening and that you weren't responsible for what you did. I've come back to let you know this; you don't need to be torturing yourself like this."
Methos was horrified. He whirled on Duncan and lashed out. "You tried to kill you're own student? You tried to kill Richie!!" His hand went for his sword.
Richie jumped between them and placed a calming hand on Methos' chest. "Don't do this, Methos." Looking deep into the ancient immortal's soul, he added, "Remember what I taught you, my little mouse."
Methos staggered back. "How… how could you know that?!" He narrowed his eyes and peered at Richie. "Master DiCaprio?? Is that you?" The force of the recognition hit and he swooned, only to be caught in a firm, affectionate embrace.
"Yes, it has been a long time, hasn't it, my little mouse."
Methos sniffled and hurriedly wiped the tears that threatened to swamp his amber eyes. "MacLeod, I don't know how this happened, but this is my first teacher, or at least the spirit of the man who taught me what it meant to be an immortal."
Duncan was stunned. "But how did that happen? How old…." His voice trailed off, awed.
Richie hugged Methos again, his affection obvious and turned his world weary eyes towards his former teacher. "After you nearly killed me, I was devastated."
Duncan groaned, his anguish too much to bare.
Richie extended open his other arm, inviting the stricken man into his forgiveness. Duncan hesitated, then rushed to claim his redemption. Hugging both men, Richie continued.
"I went to Tibet to find peace and understanding. High on a mountaintop, I met an immortal there. His wisdom was profound and he helped me to understand, to find forgiveness. Then, just when I was about to leave, their was a terrible earthquake. It dislodged an ice sheet and in a freak accident, it killed my teacher — beheading him. With no other immortal nearby, I, unworthy as I am, absorbed the power and knowledge of a man nearly 10,000 years old."
The room was silent, hushed by this profound revelation.
Richie tightened his hold on his two friends, nestling all their heads together. "I know what love is now. I've come back to teach you both how to find peace and inner happiness. There can be only one, alright; one love — a love that encompasses everything and everyone." He ruffled their hair with great affection. "Its a lesson that you kids need to learn, and that's what my destiny is. I will not rest until you both realize how right you are for each other and I'm standing as best man at your wedding."
Duncan lifted his liquid brown eyes up. "Richie, you will always be the best man," he vowed feverently.
All three men sniffled, there emotions running high.
"I've come home," Richie sighed.
END