AN – Finally finished! Thanks to everyone who has stuck with this, I'm honoured to have received  so many reviews, and emails, and prompts and nags and ideas, I love to write, and would probably do it anyway, but it makes all the difference when you sit down at the computer at the end of a really long day to know that other people are enjoying it too. So Thank You All Very Much! For those who have been asking, I will finished AC and R and I have three new stories in the works!

***

"I'm telling you Tess," Duncan chopped the onions a little more fiercely than necessary. "Those two are up to something."

"Of course they are," Tessa surprised him. "Its your birthday."

"Oh come on," Duncan put the knife down. "Connor's had Centuries of practice at sneaking about. This isn't just some balloons and a cake."

"You don't know this. It is no easy thing to surprise a four hundred year old man."

"Oh, I don't know," Duncan arched a brow. "You always seem to manage."

"Duncan!" she laughed, blushing slightly at his implication. "This is not what I meant!"

"Seriously though, Tess, something is going on," Duncan insisted. "Every time I see them they have their heads together and they always change the subject when I appear."

"So, why don't you just ask them?"

"Because then they'll think I don't trust them."

"You don't." Tessa smirked.

"I trust them with my life," Duncan protested. "Just .. please tell me there's not going to be a surprise party where I have to dress up as Mel Gibson or something."

"No party," Tessa assured him. "Just a nice quiet family lunch at home."

"So," Duncan's voice took on a decidedly more calculating edge. "You do know what they are up to."

"Duncan!" Tessa protested, not sure whether to be angry or amused that he had manipulated her so neatly. "You will just have to be patient. Surely after four hundred years you can do this."

"Of course, I can," Duncan agreed, seizing her around the waist and pulling her close. "I just don't want to."

"Well, we can't always have what we want." Tessa laughed as she tried to push him away.

"Are you sure," Duncan leaned in to nibble on her ear. "That there is nothing I can do to persuade you?"

"Well," Tessa smiled. "You can certainly try."

"Maybe later," Duncan sighed, as he pulled back, just before Richie bounded into the room. "Hey, guys, guess what ..?" He trailed off, looking at them entwined in each others arms. "Um. Never mind."

He turned on his heel, about to make a swift exit, when Duncan's voice stopped him.

"I thought you wanted to talk to us."

"Yeah," Richie kept his back to them. "But it can wait. I mean, you guys haven't spent nearly enough time together lately, you gotta have .. stuff to do."

"You know," Duncan said conversationally. "He's right, we haven't spent enough time together lately. What we need is a vacation."

"Yeah, sure, I mean, I can look after things here." Richie tried to keep the hurt he felt out of his voice. Mac had just babysat him 24/7 for more than two weeks. It was only fair that Tessa got to spend some time with him. It wasn't Mac's fault that he'd kinda gotten to like the undivided attention.

"No you can't." Duncan shook his head.

"Hey, c'mon Mac," Richie protested, finally turning to face them.  "I can do responsible."

"You can't look after things here, because your coming with us, .. Tough Guy." Duncan corrected.

"I am?" Richie felt a flush of relief.  Then he paused. "Um. Where are we going?"

"Duncan says it is a icon for twentieth century culture." Tessa hid a smile.

"A cultural icon? You mean like to Art Galleries and Museums and the like?" Richie paled. "Mac, that's not a vacation. That's school."

"Actually, I was thinking more of .. Disneyland." Duncan told him.

"Disneyland!" Richie's face lit up with joy. " Are you serious? You guys want to go to Disney?"

"We certainly do." Tessa affirmed.

 "Oh man, this is so great!" Richie enthused. "I've always wanted to go there. But I would never imagine you guys thinking of going to a place like that."

The amused look that passed between Duncan and Tessa went right over his head.

"Um," Richie bit his lip. "Which one?"

"Which one what?" Tessa blinked.

"Which Disney ?" Richie asked. "I mean, the one outside of Paris, you know the Resort thingy, I mean I'm sure its great and everything .. and there Disneyland in California but .."

"Relax Tough Guy," Duncan assured him. "We're going to Florida. Next week, if you feel up to it."

"Disneyworld? Next week?" Richie yipped. "Oh man, I gotta pack. Then I gotta phone Angie. Just wait till she hears I'm gonna meet Micky."

"Are you going to tell him?" Tessa asked when the excited teen had left the room.

"What? That's it's the middle of the night in Seacouver?" Duncan grinned. "No, I'm sure Angie will."

"No. That it was actually his idea."

"Aw, c'mon Tess. You saw his face. I bet this is something he's dreamt of since he was a babe. He probably would never have told me about it if he wasn't half delirious at the time. He'd think he was too old or something.."

"Too old." Tessa shook her head. "He's just a boy. He is not ready to join your Game. To be Immortal."

"Hopefully, he won't have to for a long time yet." Duncan soothed, even as he deftly changed the subject. "Are you sure you don't mind not going to St Moritiz?"

"Of course not, we can always go some other time."

"Or we could go to blizzard beach," Duncan suggested mischievously. "Its almost the same."

"Oh, you," Tessa slapped him on the chest. "It is a small price to pay. I don't think I have ever seen him so happy. It is like we have granted all his heart's desires."

"Which begs, the question, love," Duncan nuzzled her close. "What in the world are we going to get him for Christmas?"

"We have your birthday, to celebrate first."

"Which reminds me," Duncan moved a little closer. "Where was I?"

***

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, Richie thought, but now the moment was at hand he was scared out of his mind. The smooth Ardennes pate stuck in his throat, the succulent Duck a l'Orange tasted like sawdust in his mouth and the rich chocolate mousse had to be forced down, teaspoon by teaspoon, so Mac wouldn't tell how nervous he was.

"It'll be fine." Connor murmured around his wine glass. "You'll see."

Richie hoped so. Connor had known Mac for almost four centuries. If he said it was fine, surely he couldn't be wrong?

Even so, when it came time to give presents Richie hesitated as Connor gave Duncan with an ornate dagger that apparently had some sort of ceremonial significance and a fine Malt. Then Tessa gave him several expensive silk shirts and cashmere sweaters, as well as a heavy quartz watch and a promise of more surprises .. later on. Mac even opened the square flat package from Fitz, that turned out not to be a book at all, but a scrapbook of rather saucy postcards.

"You call that Art?" Tessa sniffed.

"Age adds Antiquity." Connor shrugged.

Then everyone looked, expectantly, at Richie.

"Risteard?" Connor prompted gently.

"Um," Richie swallowed hard. He really hoped this was the right idea. "Mine's just this."

Duncan looked at the small box that Richie had wrapped it in newspaper and tied with a simple black ribbon. It looked surprisingly stylish.

"Very chic." He complimented.

"Mac, just open the box will you?" Richie pleaded.

"Alright, see, I'm opening," Duncan soothed, pulling at the end of the ribbon and opened the box, not quite sure what to expect. Some sort of pin, perhaps, maybe a silver hair tie. The single diamond earring that glinted up at him from the black velvet took his breath away.

"Richie .."

"You haven't been wearing your old one, since our little swim in the tunnels .."

"It must have fallen out." Duncan hadn't given it a second thought. The diamond was nothing to him compared to the lad's safety..

"I figured as much," Richie nodded. "And since that was my fault .."

"Hey, it was not your fault," Duncan cut in. "That wasn't even Walker's fault. It was just an accident."

"Yeah, well," Richie shrugged. "You told me once, that you'd lose the earring and make like a normal guy, if it would help you seem like a better Dad. I guess, I just wanted to say, that you don't gotta. Cos you're a diamond kinda guy, already. The best. And I couldn't wish for a better Dad."

All Duncan's protestations that it was too expensive a gift, were swept away by that simple statement. Indeed, he wasn't sure that he could speak at all.

"Thank you, lad."

"um. There's more," Hesitantly, Richie pulled the thick cream envelope out of his jacket pocket, wordlessly offering it to the Immortal.

"More?" Duncan shook his head.

"This didn't cost the lad anything." Connor put in. "Not in the way you mean."

"And, I think you will like it." Tessa beamed at him.

Duncan felt unusually nervous as he opened the envelope. His heart caught in his throat as he looked at the sheets of cream paper. "Adoption papers?" he looked up at Richie.

"Its all legal," Richie assured him. "Connor did it. From now on, I'm officially Richard Ryan Macleod. I have a new passport and everything."

"Oh Rich," Duncan managed.

"La Breith Sona, Da." Richie recited the Gaelic carefully as Connor had taught him. Happy Birthday Dad

"What did you say?" Duncan blinked, not at all sure he'd heard right.

"It is what you wanted, right?" Richie suddenly looked very vulnerable.

"Aye," Duncan stood up and pulled him into a hug. "More than anything, my bonnie lad."

"I think this calls for a toast." Connor reached for the Malt.

 "I thought that was my present." Duncan protested over Richie's head.

"It is," Connor agreed. "But tis the custom of the Clan for the father to provide a dram or two to wet the bairn's head."

"Hey, its not like I'm a baby." Richie protested.

"Did I say you couldn't have any?" Connor countered smoothly. "Although, this is pretty strong stuff. Maybe you should ask your Da."

"Can I Da? Please?" Richie grinned at him.

"Well, I suppose it is a special occasion." Duncan tousled his hair.

When both the glasses were charged, Connor smiled at his family, and saluted Richie gently with the bottle.

"To Richard Ryan Macleod, of the Clan Macleod."

They drank.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Richie pulled a squishy parcel out from under the table. "I got this for you, Connor, to thank you for all your help."

Duncan wondered why his kinsman's face paled as he accepted the parcel. But he soon knew why, as Connor pulled out a small, brown, furry, object, dressed in a little kilt and highland bonnet, standing on two black felt feet.

"How?" Connor managed over a suddenly dry throat.

"You press here," Richie said, gleefully, pushing at the small creature's stomach. The strains of Mull of Kintyre sounded tinnily as the creature stomped its little feet in time to the music.

"I'd say that warrants prise of place, in your collection, kinsman." Duncan was spluttering with laughter.

"Where ever did you find such a thing, Richie?" Tessa asked.

"In Paris." Richie said smugly.

"You dinna." If possible Connor looked even paler.

Duncan's eyes narrowed.

"You can buy just about anything on the Internet," Richie declared gleefully. "I never even had to leave my room."

***

"Alright," As soon as he could Duncan took Connor aside. Which was not as soon as he would have liked. Connor was definitely trying to avoid him. "Are you going to tell me what that was all about?"

"You wouldn't just believe that the lad wanted to buy his Uncle Connor a present?"

"Connor."

"Alright," Connor sighed. "I told him that if he found one of those musical monstrosities in Paris I'd put him to the sword myself."

"No," Duncan's tone was flat, resolute. "Absolutely not."

"I gave him my word." Connor tried to make his kinsman see reason.

"You made him a foolish promise, on a wager you didn't think he'd deliver." Duncan corrected.

"And you've never underestimated the lad?" Connor challenged.

"Alright, I'll give you that," Duncan agreed. "But you're older than I am."

"You forgot wiser."

"No," Duncan gave his teacher a meaningful look. "I did not."

"Alright, so the lad took me for a fool," Connor agreed. "But the fact remains that I gave him my word. You wouldn't want to make a liar out of me would you?"

"I won't have to. I never said you couldn't teach him," Duncan pointed out. "I just want you to wait a few decades. He's not ready yet."

"Are you quite sure about that?" Connor murmured, glancing out of the porthole.

"What?" Duncan took two long strides to join his kinsman. "Oh no .." He turned on his heel, towards the door, only to find himself stopped by a firm grip on his arm.

"Duncan, just watch." Connor commanded.

Standing on the quay Richie was wielding the Katana with a studied awe. Holding the blade at a respectful arms length as he carefully drew it through a series of complex cuts and parries, watching his arm trace flawlessly through the graceful movements as if it belonged to someone else.

"Those moves are Walker's," Connor commented. "But the grace is your lad's alone."

"He is good, isn't he?" Duncan murmured.

"You've a right to be proud of him, kinsman. A lesser man would not have endured these last few weeks nearly as well."

"No." Duncan agreed. "I know I couldn't, not at his age."

Coming to a decision, he strode over to a blanket box in the corner and lifted its lid to reveal a light oak wooden box. From out of the box he took a Spanish rapier, with a golden hilt and a blade of Toledo steel.

***

 Duncan deliberately made a bit of ostentatious noise as he made his way across the quay. It was never a good idea to sneak up on a man wielding a sword.

"Da," Caught in the act, Richie lowered the blade at his approach, casting his eyes about for some legitimate excuse. "Um. I was just getting the feel of it?"

Nervously, he offered the Katana, hilt first, back to its owner.

"And?" Duncan asked, making no move to take the blade, hiding a smile at the lad's mode of address. "How does it feel?"

"Um," Richie flushed slightly, unnerved by this approach. "Actually, it's a little heavy."

"It will be at first," At last, Duncan reached out to take the Katana, but slowly, respectfully, like one warrior to another and tucked it inside his coat. "Give it a few years and you'll be fine."

Duncan gave him an encouraging smile.

"I'm sorry," Richie felt a little flustered, and not quite sure what he was apologising for. After all, Mac had never actually said he couldn't touch the Katana.

"Perhaps, this would suit you better," From behind his back Duncan produced the thin, golden rapier. "At least, for now."

"Mac." Richie faltered.

He remembered Mac buying this sword. They had driven across state to a tiny, stuffy, little private auction room. Richie had fussed about the heat and the lack of food and whether or not he would be home in time for his date and Mac had supplied, water and hamburgers and reassurance in equal measure. He had had Richie hold the sword, to test its weight and balance he'd said. Then, apparently satisfied, he had stood and outbid everyone in the room, until, for a sum that still made Richie's mind boggle, the sword was bought.

"Was it really worth coming all this way and paying all that much?" He'd asked on the way home.

"Yes," Duncan had been adamant. "A man needs a good sword and a blade like that, doesn't come up for sale often."

"But you've already got zillions of swords." Richie had protested.

Mac had given him one of those unreadable looks and deftly changed the subject.

"You bought it for me?" Richie managed now. "But I thought .. you said .. I was too young."

"Rich, in the last few weeks, you've sacrificed yourself to keep Tessa safe from Walker, you risked your life to save mine, you faced your demons and bested Walker. I think that makes you old enough."

"Its not like I'm that much older than last month when you told me I wasn't old enough." Richie smiled shyly.

"Aye well," Duncan reached out and put a hand under his chin. "In the Clan you're not a man until your father tells you you're a man. Well, you're a fine man Richie Ryan Macleod, and I'm proud to have you as my son. You've earnt this."

Duncan took a step back and formally offered the blade, across his arm. A tangible symbol of regard.

In awe, Richie took the blade.

"Will you teach me, Da?"

Duncan wondered how long it would be before he could refuse the lad anything when he called him that. A few centuries at least.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Duncan vowed.