"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
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
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
<<How can you think I'd do something so awful to
"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
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.
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,"
"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."
Richie shook his head in disgust. "We're in the Denver
"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."
"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,"
"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
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 --
<<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
"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,
Duncan, Richie and Methos shook their heads in disgust
and turned to where Kenny had fallen. There was no sign
"Great. Just great," Richie said, lifting his
arms up and letting them fall. "Now where is he?"
End of Part 2