"Something tells me MacLeod isn't going to enjoy this flight," Methos observed.

"He'll be fine. If they start driving him too nuts, Evil Duncan can always pop out and behead them," Richie said somewhat bitterly.

Methos clucked sympathetically as he gazed at the younger Immortal. "Still upset about how Duncan handled the reconciliation in 'The End of Innocence?' "

"Well, he never actually said 'I'm sorry' to me, you know. It was the least he could've done."

"I don't think you have room to talk about proper behavior, Richie. You're the one who manhandled a mortal female bartender just to get some information."

Richie glared at him. "Hey, I didn't write the script. Look, maybe we should just shut up and enjoy the flight."

Methos looked down at Richie's hands, which gripped the arm rests so tightly the knuckles were white.

"You don't look like you'll enjoy the flight at all."

Richie settled his head back against the seat and stared up at the no smoking and seatbelt lights above. "I hate flying."

Methos removed an in-flight magazine from the pocket in front of him and started flipping through it. "So which part do you hate the most?"

"Taking off and landing."

Methos turned to glance at him, mouth quirking up at the corners. "It's rather difficult to get from one place to another by plane without taking off and landing."

Richie shook his head in disgust but didn't speak.

Methos snickered and went back to his magazine, noting with interest that it was actually a collection of adult-oriented stories about him. He nudged Richie and showed him one of the stories.

Richie's eyes widened as he read a few paragraphs. "That's pretty intense, man. You know, I still can't figure out why Duncan gets all of the sex on the show. Just because we're sidekicks doesn't mean we don't have needs."

Methos snorted. "Tell me about it."

The flight attendant started running through the mind-numbing lecture on how to use oxygen masks and flotation devices, and Richie pressed himself back into his seat. Looking up, he smirked. "So I suppose you're going to make our plane crash or something, huh?" he asked the demented fanfic writer.

<<How can you think I'd do something so awful to you?>>

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's because you're so into stabbing and shooting me. And you are the one who refuses to let me do one of my most favorite leisure activities.

<<That's true, and if you don't show me a little more respect, I won't let you have any Quickenings, either.>>

"Ha! Fine with me! Knowing you, you'd probably set me up with another giant muppet like you did the last time. Maybe instead of Barney it'll be Big Bird."

<<Maybe I'll just crash the plane and castrate you instead.>>

Richie gulped and laughed nervously. "Hey, I was just joking. Can't you take a joke?"

He waited, but the writer didn't answer.

"I think I'll just be quiet now," he muttered, and waited for takeoff.

***

A sudden jarring motion startled Richie awake and he blinked rapidly against the light. It took him a minute to remember where he was and what he was doing.

"We landing?" he asked Methos.

"Landed," the ancient Immortal corrected him.

Richie looked out of the window. They had pulled to a complete stop. Thankful that this part of the trip was over, he stood up and waited with Methos for a chance to get their stuff. It took almost 10 minutes, like always. People had this annoying habit of not waiting their turn to grab their bags, and everyone got backed up.

When they finally stepped off of the plane, they saw Duncan leaning up against a wall. His features were set in hard lines, a muscle along his jaw twitching.

"The connecting flight has been delayed," Duncan said angrily when they reached him.

"For how long?" Richie asked.

"Three hours."

Richie looked around and spotted a pizza joint. "Just enough time for some food," he said happily.

He moved toward the restaurant, but an itching sensation in the back of his skull stopped him. His eyes darted around the gate, looking for the source of the Buzz. Duncan and Methos checked out the area, too.

At least 50 people milled around at the gate, checking tickets and greeting relatives. But spotting Immortals who'd just checked into the vicinity was always easy, since they were looking around warily, too. It took only 30 seconds of searching before the trio of Immortals spotted the other of their kind.

Richie and Duncan groaned in unison.

The kid with dirty blonde hair had deceptively innocent, big blue eyes. He looked no older than 12 years or so, but Richie knew better. Kenny was 800.

Kenny, Richie, Duncan and Methos stood frozen, staring, until a man's scream for help startled them.

The man stood outside of the bathroom just 30 feet away, bright red blood covering his hands. "There's a dead man in there! Someone cut off his head!"

Duncan and Richie looked at each other, then at Kenny.

"You still haven't learned any manners, have you, kid?" Richie asked, shaking his head.

Kenny took off running.

"We're not letting him get away this time, are we?" Richie asked coldly. Kenny had evaded them twice, and Richie really didn't like being outsmarted by the brat. He was tired of being outsmarted by everyone else on the show, especially sexy women and bratty children.

"No, we're not, even though I can't seem to come up with a flashback for the last time I saw him," Duncan said, then sprinted after Kenny.

Richie dropped his bag and followed suit, then noticed that Methos hadn't joined him. He stopped and turned around. "What are you waiting for, man?"

"I don't want to get all sweaty. It's so uncouth," Methos sniffed.

"Fine. Just don't ever complain again about not getting any really good action scenes," Richie said and moved to try to catch up to Duncan.

A few seconds later, Methos appeared at his side, sans duffel bag, and they pushed their speed as fast as possible. They passed pay phones, gates, bathrooms, gates, over-priced restaurants, gates, more gates and then suddenly they were running on moving sidewalks. Richie had always detested the pathways that looked like flat elevators. People were constantly tripping on them when they got off.

As they continued their pursuit, Methos nearly ran over a mother and her little girl in his haste. Richie heard the mother make a snide remark about chivalry being dead.

Five minutes later, they were still running. Richie's T-shirt lay plastered to him from sweat, and Methos was winded.

"This is taking a long time," Methos said, huffing. "Shouldn't there be an exit somewhere? Or is the little snot going to run around in here all day?"

Richie stopped running so suddenly that Methos nearly knocked him down. "Wait a minute," he said, panting and looking around. "No wonder this is taking so long."

"Why?"

Richie shook his head in disgust. "We're in the Denver International Airport."

"That's impossible. This is Chicago."

"Haven't you ever heard of a plot inconsistency, Methos? The writer forgot to change airports when she changed cities."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Richie said, then turned around to get off of the moving sidewalk. Which he did. And ran smack into a wall.

The impact of his nose to the hard surface sparked a burst of blinding pain, and Richie grunted and fell backward into Methos' arms. Methos caught him and helped him over to the side of the room, away from the flow of people.

"Where'd that wall come from?" Richie asked in a muffled voice, his hands covering his tender nose. "It wasn't there before."

Methos pointed to a sign overhead that read, "Welcome to Chicago O'Hare Airport."

"Chicago!" Richie said, dropping his hands as his nose healed.

"She changed to the right airport pretty fast," Methos observed.

"Yeah, at my expense," Richie griped, then pointed left. "Hey, there they are!"

Kenny was nearly at the exit door now, with Duncan just a few steps behind him. Richie and Methos ran as fast as their aching legs could carry them. It didn't look like they'd reach Kenny, much less Duncan, before Kenny could get out of the airport. And once out, he'd probably get himself "lost" in the crowd long enough to escape for good.

At least, Kenny would have if he hadn't looked back at his pursuers and ended up colliding with an elderly woman, sending them both to the floor in an unattractive heap.

The collision allowed Duncan to --

<<<Angela?>>>

<<Sandra? Is that you?>>

<<<Yeah, it is.>>>

<<What are you doing here?>>

<<<I'm looking for late season 5 Richie for a story I'm writing.>>>

<<I've got early season 5 Richie. Sorry.>>

<<<No problem. So how's the story going?>>>

<<OK. Could be better, but I'm kind of preoccupied right now. There's a new episode of "X-Files" on tonight, and it looks like there's some potential for some mild hurt/comfort with Mulder -- >>

"Do you mind?" Duncan, Richie and Methos shouted in unison.

"We're right in the middle of a chase scene here," Richie ranted. "I'm hungry and horny, and now I'm supposed to wait for you two to finish gabbing before we get Kenny?"

<<<Is Richie always like that around you, Angela?>>>

<<Usually. Hey, I'd better go. I'll e-mail you later, OK?>>

<<<Sure.>>>

Duncan, Richie and Methos shook their heads in disgust and turned to where Kenny had fallen. There was no sign of him.

"Great. Just great," Richie said, lifting his arms up and letting them fall. "Now where is he?"