Musings

Richie Ryan sat on the couch staring at the half-packed duffel bag and the sword that lay on the table next to it.  He wanted to get out of town before it was too late.  He wasn't sure exactly what it was that he would be too late for but he knew with complete certainty that he had to get out of town now.  He'd come too close to dying permanently this time and frankly he felt like an idiot.  The last time a blade came near his neck he'd lost a fight.  Admittedly it was a fight he had not expected to fight.  He didn't think that most students expected to have to fight their teachers even though every immortal knows that in theory there may come a time when they would have to fight friends or teachers.  But at least it was in a fight.  This time he nearly died because of his own gullibility.  He'd been so willing to think that it was possible to live life without a sword that he'd actually given it up.  And for a couple of hours he felt free.  Then William Culbraith, thinking that an unarmed immortal made for an easy target tried to take his head.  If MacLeod hadn't arrived with his sword the odds were that he'd be dead right now.  And yet, he was still unwilling to believe that there was nothing more to being an immortal than playing the game.

So between bouts of activity that could loosely be called packing, he stared at the sword.  It was a lifesaver and the bane of his existence.  It kept him alive yet he loathed to pick it up, knowing that he might have to use it against someone.  He'd meant it when he said he didn't like killing.  He'd done it numerous times sometimes for less than good reasons.  But when he'd had the chance to sit back and think about what he'd done he felt nothing but regret especially after meeting and sleeping with the widow of one of the immortal's whose head he'd taken.  There had to be a better way.  Unfortunately, no one seemed to have any useful suggestions.  When he'd asked the oldest immortal alive these questions, Methos had no answers for him.

Methos.  Richie shook his head as the name pushed itself into the forefront of his consciousness.  Methos, the oldest of all living immortals.  A five thousand-year-old man.  He'd seen and experienced so much yet for all his years on the planet he had nothing to offer as far as wisdom was concerned.  Five thousand years and he'd had nothing to say.  How can someone live for five thousand years and not have a clue as to what it all means.  Or what any of it means.  It was to say the least disappointing.

Richie raised his head as he felt another immortal's approach. He grabbed his sword and moved to the door.  When he heard a knock he checked the peephole and saw Reina Molestador standing on the other side.

Richie was surprised by her appearance.  Not completely surprised.  No immortal can truly surprise another.  Their presence was always given away by the buzz.  However, he hadn't expected Reina to show up at his apartment.

"What's up Rei?"  He asked.  He suddenly knew why she was there.  She had heard he was leaving town and she probably guessed why.  She was good at picking up on things like that.  It was actually kinda weird if he really thought about it.  Richie preferred not to dwell on it.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure.  Sure.  Come on in," Richie opened the door so the female immortal could enter.

"I heard an ugly rumor that you were leaving town again," she said.  "I guess it wasn't a rumor," she added after seeing the duffel bag.

"Yeah."

Richie watched as Reina sat down on the couch.  He never really knew what Reina would do next.  Mac called her mercurial.  Richie didn't know her as well so he had to assume her mood swings were normal for her which would make mercurial a good word to describe her.  Personally, he was more inclined to use the word moody.  He waited for Reina to make her next move.  Is she here to convince me to stick around?  He asked himself.  He knew Mac hadn't sent her.  MacLeod had said his good-byes at the dojo.  If he were going to try to talk him out of leaving he would have done so then.

"Why?" She asked.

Richie shrugged.  He didn't really want to discuss how he almost lost his head because he was so willing that it was possible to be immortal and live without the sword.  He wondered how much Reina knew about the circumstances leading to his decision to leave town for awhile.  He watched her trying to get a sense of what she was thinking but he had a hard time reading her.  She had forced a blank look on her face and she wasn't looking directly at him, which kept him from seeing her eyes.  The eyes always gave away everything if one could see them.

Reina looked up at Richie.  The shrug wasn't what she was looking for.  She really wanted an answer.  When one wasn't forthcoming she spoke again.

"You were expecting more from Methos weren't you?"

Richie raised an eyebrow at Reina.  I wonder what Mac told her.

"Duncan didn't tell me anything.  He doesn't tell me much you know.  I think that he thinks I'm about two steps away from a loony bin," Reina answered Richie's unspoken question.  "The truth is I've just managed to meet the man and your name was mentioned in the conversation so I figured that you'd met him earlier.  On top of that there's that whole Cutbait or whoever incident.  I figured that the real deal must have been quite a letdown for you compared to the first Methos you met."

Richie nodded before speaking.  "It's not just that," he said as he continued to stuff clothes into the bag.  He really didn't know what else to say.  He felt as though there had to be some point to immortality.  It was supposed to be a gift but running around the world taking people's heads was not his idea of a gift.  Richie wasn't even sure if he believed in the game and it bothered him that there was the potential of this whole head-taking thing was pointless.  So when the phony Methos told him that it was possible to live without the sword he had grabbed on to that possibility like a drowning man grabbed on to a life preserver.  But he wasn't sure if Reina would understand it.  She practiced on a daily basis.  She kept her sword by her side.  She didn't seem to be bothered by the possibility that there was nothing more to immortality than the constant fights and beheadings.

"So you were expecting more?" She asked.

"Weren't you?"

Reina bit her lower lip as she contemplated her answer.  "No," she said.

"Why not?"

Reina shrugged.  "Because I don't expect much wisdom from anyone."

"Not even from someone who has five thousand years behind him."

Reina shrugged again.

"You're telling me that you meet a man who's over five thousand years old and he turns out to be a free-loading, beer guzzling, cynical, sarcastic, know-it-all and you expect it?"

"I don't know about the free-loading beer guzzling part," Reina said carefully.  "But I can see the sarcastic, cynical, know-it-all part.  It doesn't take five thousand years to figure out that people are basically selfish."

"You're a cynic."

"Is that an accusation?"

Richie laughed. "Just a statement of fact."

Reina shrugged. "Maybe I am a cynic."

"Maybe?" Richie asked.  "So you weren't expecting to hear something more enlightening?"

"Like what?  The meaning of life?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of the reasons for our existence.  There has to be something more to being immortal than playing the game."

"The game," Reina rolled her eyes.  "That's one hell of a euphemism for what we have to do," she sighed.  "I'm not even entirely convinced that there is a prize.  What if all this time we've been killing one another and it's been all for naught.  What if this whole game thing is someone's sick idea of a practical joke?  A fairy tale told by some immortal who was around before Methos was born."

"If there is no prize then why are we here?"

"Why are any of us here?"  Reina shrugged. "I used to think I was left behind to avenge Ben and Scott. I couldn't even do that.  And I'm still here.  So maybe there's some other reason.  Or maybe we're not meant to know.  Even if we dolive to be five thousand."

"That's why you weren't surprised by Methos."

"Exactly."

"Okay, then tell me something.  If you think the game and the prize are all bullshit why do you carry your sword?"

"Because I don't want to end up like you almost did this afternoon," Reina snapped.  "Why did you decide you wouldn't carry a sword?  What were you thinking?"

Richie let the snap pass without comment.  Despite her claims to the contrary, he knew that Reina had problems dealing with death and it tended to make her snap at people when she didn't mean to.  "I don't like killing."

"I wasn't under the impression that taking pleasure from killing was a prerequisite to becoming immortal," Reina said drolly.  "Besides, very few people like killing it's what separates the semi-normal people from the sociopaths.  I can understand not wanting to take heads unless it was absolutely necessary.  But it's another thing entirely to set oneself up as a sitting duck by walking around defenseless."

"I wanted peace," Richie said.  "And you can't have peace while carrying a weapon."

"You can't keep your head by walking around without one either."

Richie flinched at the obvious reference to his run in with Culbraith.  "He managed."

"Yeah until that asshole Cutbait took his head."

"Culbraith," Richie snapped, irritated by Reina's intentional memory lapse. "His name was Culbraith."

Reina wasn't interested in the man's name.  "Whatever."

"Culbraith was one guy," he said changing tact.  It was obvious that Reina was not going to bother to acknowledge the man's name.  She probably heard that he was on the wrong side of the civil war.

"It only takes one guy," Reina pointed out.

"But if the word got out…."

"The word did get out," Reina said interrupting.  "This phony Methos, he traveled around spreading the word and what happened?  The men and women who listened to him lost their head to the next immortal who didn't heed the word.  This fake Methos lost his head to a man so venal that he'd take the head of an unarmed man.  And you almost lost your head to this same asshole.  Offhand I'd say that the spreading word hasn't been doing much good.  If you don't want to spend the rest of your life hunting heads that's fine.  I don't see where doing other things and taking heads are mutually exclusive anyway.  Duncan doesn't go around hunting for people to take their heads and Reynaldo didn't either.  There's a balance."

I wonder if you've found that balance for yourself.  "You're probably right," Richie said. "But that's something I have to find out for myself.  And to do that I have to go away.  I need to be alone with my thoughts and away from the influences, no matter how well meaning, of my friends."

"Mortal or immortal?"

"Both.  I don't think my friends from the old neighborhood would understand," Richie said.  "Besides, I don't really see them too often anymore."

"I know what you mean.  I haven't talked too much with my friends from back home since Reynaldo died," Reina admitted.  "When Reynaldo was alive I could go on pretending that nothing's changed.  Immortality hasn't changed me.  I can do almost everything I used to.  I just have to carry a sword.  But my friends are getting older and while I am as well it's easier for me to stay a perpetual young adult because I'll always look like one.  I don't have the burden of figuring what it is I want to do with the rest of my life.  I can choose one thing and if I don't like it change it.  My friends are planning futures. You know career, marriage, kids and I feel weird listening to these grandiose plans.  What am I supposed to say? 'Well I thought I'd have a few false id's made because in about five years or so I'm going to have to fake my death and start a new life.'  Not bloody likely."

"Then why are you fighting so hard for me to stay.  You are going through exactly the same thing Reina.  Except you aren't in your home town at the moment."

"You're right," Reina sighed.  "I guess you've gotta do what you gotta do.  Are you going to be back for the holidays?"

"I don't think so.  Why?"

"If you're still on the road, why don't you swing over to Washington DC for Thanksgiving?"

"I don't know anyone in DC."

"You know me," Reina said.

"You aren't in DC."

"I will be.  I told Jonathan I'd go out to DC for Thanksgiving.  No doubt it's a ploy for him to see if I've gone off the deep end.  But I'll be there nonetheless."

"Jonathan?  Your brother?  The FBI agent with no sense of humor?" Gee thanks.

"The one and the same," Reina said.

"And you want me to go so you'd have an excuse to blow out of there?"

"I don't need an excuse to do that.  But it wouldn't hurt to have a friendly face out there," Reina admitted.  "Plus Jonathan just called me last week and said that he wants to introduce me to his girlfriend.  Knowing Jonathan's taste in women she'll have no sense of humor I'm sure.  So, if you come out, I'll have someone to play with."

"Did you clear this with Jonathan?"

"Hell no.  I don't need his permission.  He said I could bring a guest.  I'm bringing a guest."

"I don't know Rei."

"Come on Richie," Reina purred.  "I'm sure you don't want to spend the holiday alone."

And you don't want to spend the holiday alone with your brother. "You sound like Amanda when you do that."

"Really?  I'm flattered.  But you haven't answered my question.  Come on.  Please?  It's the least you can do sinceyou're leaving me here alone to deal with Duncan's parental impulses alone."

"Since you're begging."

"Smart ass."

"Where should we meet?"

"How about the Lincoln Memorial.  It shouldn't be too hard to find."

"Okay.  What time?"

"Five.  I'll have to meet Jon after work and I'd just as soon skip the tourist shit."

"Five it is."

"Thanks Richie!"

Richie looked around his apartment one more time to make sure he didn't leave anything behind.  "I'm about done here."

"All right.  I can take a hint," Reina said sighing.

Richie stared at sword momentarily before taking it and placing it in its sheath.  "Come on. The open road awaits."

The two twenty-something immortals left the apartment.  Reina watched as Richie locked up his apartment.  They went downstairs in silence.

"I guess this is goodbye," Reina said.

"Until Thanksgiving."

"Right.  I hope you find what you're looking for Richie,"  Reina kissed him on the cheek.

"If I do, I'll let you know.  Take care Reina."

"Watch your head."

"I will. I like it where it is."

"So do I."

"Bye!"

Richie watched Reina as she watched him from the sidewalk for as long as he dared to as he pulled off.  Then he decided to head east.

finis