Title: Wings of the Morning--MacLeod

Author: Figlia Della Musica

Series: Wings of the Morning 8/18

Pairing: Duncan/Methos

Timeframe: Whenever, either before or ignoring Archangel

Summary:  I can’t think of how to sum this up, but as Tritorella has so pointedly noted, these installments are so short it shouldn’t matter

Warnings: slash, mush, gay-bashing Richie

Rating: G

Archive:  anywhere but just ask me first

Author’s comments: I had a load of trouble writing Richie for this one… My apologies to those who like him, but I needed someone to play the baddie and Amanda didn’t seem the type, so Richie got stuck with the part.

Disclaimer: These gentlemen do not belong to me, unfortunately, and I don’t make any money off of this.  I’m just having some fun with them.

 

++++++++++

 

My life is falling apart.  For a month, Methos and I were happy, and all that my happy world needed to shatter it is Richie walking in the door.

 

I never suspected that Richie might feel like that.  Homophobic.  The word is sour in my mind, on my tongue.  An ugly word, with an aura of hate.  It was smart of Methos to leave when he did, I think.  Dealing with my choice in lovers will be hard enough for Richie without said lover there. 

 

Richie’s not interested in talking.  Correction: he’s very interested in talking.  He’s not interested in discussing.

 

“I can’t believe it!” he shouts.  “Mac, you’re, you were…” He shakes his head.  “I can only try and think you were just going along with him.”  He frowns.

 

“Richie,” I say quietly, “why are you so upset about this?”

 

“Because I can’t stand the thought that my teacher is a queer,” he replies sharply.  “I’m going home now, Mac.  It’s been a long day.”  He leaves, and I listen sadly to the sound of his motorcycle revving up and growling away through the streets of Paris. 

 

I hear Joe’s footsteps behind me, and his hand comes down on my shoulder.  “Aw, man, Mac,” my Watcher says.

 

“I don’t get it,” I say.  “I never thought Richie could be like that.  Never thought he’d be so . . . judgmental.  So disgusted.”

 

Joe sighs, sitting down on a barstool next to me.  “I don’t know what to tell you.  I guess it’s hard to guess who will be okay with it and who won’t.”

 

“I don’t want this to pull Richie and me apart.  He’s . . . he’s like a son to me.  What can I do?” I shake my head despairingly.  “Joe, did you see his face?  He was disgusted.”

 

Joe shrugs.  “I don’t know why you’re asking me for advice, Mac.  You’re the one who’s been around for centuries.  I’ve only been hanging out on this planet fifty years.  You’re supposed to have all the answers, not me.”

 

“You learn more from life, Joseph.  I’d say you’re a wiser man than me any day.”

 

“I ain’t had any experience with stuff like this, Mac.”

 

“Neither have I!” I exclaim loudly.  Then, quieter: “I’m scared of losing Richie.”

 

Joe is silent for a few minutes, then he says, “I don’t think this is something you can solve overnight.  Why don’t you go back to the barge and talk this over with Methos?  If anyone’s ever dealt with something like this, it’s probably him.”

 

I nod.  Yes, Methos will know.  My lover is a smart man, he’ll know what to do.

 

I can envision him, sprawling on the couch with a beer bottle, waving it for emphasis as he lays out a perfect plan that will show Richie how right it is for me to be with my lover, without hurting Richie’s feelings.  Methos claims not to have all the answers, but he’s got an awful lot of them.

 

“Thank you, Joe,” I say.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

I drive back to the barge with my heart lightening.  Yes, Methos will know what to do.

 

I really do love him a lot.  It’s not just the sex, although he’s far more sensual than you’d think, looking at him.  It’s . . . just being with him.  Waking up with my arms around him, performing routine household chores with him, he gives everything a sort of added . . . life, I guess.  Vivacity.  Times we tell jokes, funny stories, keeping up a steady competition to see who has the funniest one to share.  Once, I made him laugh so hard beer squirted out his nose.  He complained endlessly, of course, but the sight was more than cute enough to make up for it.  And, of course, that odd bond between us.  It’s clouded right now, muted, but I’m not surprised.  That happens, when one or the other of us is feeling upset, and I’m more than upset enough about Richie to obscure the sense of the link. 

 

I hope Richie can come to terms with us.  I’d hate to lose my student, I really would.  He’s very close to me.  But—and I hate having to make this decision—If Richie can’t accept it, I’ll lose him before I’ll lose Methos.  Richie may be the son of my heart, but Methos is so much more than just my heart.  He’s everything I’ve ever wanted or needed in life.

 

I pull up near the barge and get out of the car, certain that Methos will for once have the answer.