Title: Knowing Amber
Characters: Duncan, Richie, Amber (OFC)
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of them, except Amber.
Archive: At Ink-and-Quill
Summary: Duncan’s students get together and decide to have a bit of fun.
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Knowing Amber
by Christina A.
Amber put her pencil in her mouth and chewed on the eraser. She hated computers. Methos had tried to coerse her into using one, stating that if he could come into the 21st Century, then she could. Amber graciously pointed out that writing required routine; and if she put away her pencil and paper, she may never write again.
She liked writing.
It had made her a very rich woman.
She felt the signature as the sound of the elevator filled the loft. She didn’t pick up her sword though; she highly doubted someone would be insane enough to walk into Duncan MacLeod’s loft in the middle of the afternoon and try to kill his student… former student.
“Amber,” Richie called, opening the gate. “I was hoping to find you here.”
She put down the pencil and turned to him. Smiling brightly, she said, “And you found me. I was left here all alone to my own devices.”
He waggled his brows. “And I’m your knight in shining armor. I have a new bike.”
She flew out of the seat like she’d been launched from a cannon. “Really?” Crossing to him, she took his hand. “I’m the first, aren’t I?”
Squeezing her hand, he pulled her to him and bent her over backwards. “But of course, darling.”
Amber laughed. She completely adored Richie Ryan. In every way, shape and form, she adored him. Her arms went around his neck. “Where are we going?”
Lifting her back up, he shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it really. Want to go upstate or down?” He let her go and moved to grab her jacket. “I want to air out the engine a bit and see what it can do.”
She slipped the jacket on and thought for a moment. “Let’s head toward Seattle. I’m thinking we can take in some atmosphere and I can get an idea or two for my book.”
He was about to ask if she’d started a new one when the door opened.
Duncan smiled to see his two former students. Obviously, Richie was here to take Amber out for a ride on the new bike. Amber was about to approach her 100th year; but given that she’d also died when she was a teenager, she and Richie looked like they could easily be the same age. Both had blond hair, though Amber’s was long and wavy. Both were slender. Amber had the body of a dancer; and at one time, she had been. Richie was starting to take on the gracefulness that came with learning the art of swordfighting.
They were a very cute couple. He just wondered if they’d ever figure that out. “Heading out, I assume.”
Amber nodded. “New bike.”
“We’re heading to Seattle, probably for the weekend.”
Duncan stood by the breakfast bar and sorted through his mail. “Will you call when you get there?”
Amber’s sigh was heard over Richie’s. “Yes, Dad. You think one of these days I could go without a chaperone.”
“You are going without,” Duncan pointed out. “All I’m asking is that you call when you get there. I worry.”
“You overprotect.” Still, she kissed his cheek and hugged him tightly. “I’ll call.”
“Thank you.”
*-*-*
The next day found the pair still in Seattle. They were having a leisurely lunch at a coffee shop. Neither seemed to be in too big of a hurry to get home.
“Tell me about how you came to know Mac,” Richie began.
Amber looked at him with a bit of surprise. “You don’t know? I honestly thought you did.”
“Mac doesn’t tell me anything,” Richie said, sipping his coffee.
Amber beamed him a smile. She leaned forward and put her elbow on the table; her chin nestled in the palm of her hand. “He about killed me,” she laughed as she said, “and then he saved my life.”
**flash**
New York, 1907
There was the pain again. This time it raked through her entire body. She had secured a cardboard box for herself and was hiding in it. Only when the pain became more than she could bear did she peek her head out and look around tentatively.
A tall, dark-haired man was looking around as well. Obviously, he was feeling the same pain she was. She looked him up and down and managed to think about how gorgeous he was before charging out of her box and
running straight for him. She had to get the pain to stop.
Before she even knew what happened, she was thrown on the ground and a sword was at her throat. “What do you think you’re doing?”
She didn’t move, but tears filled her eyes. “You can’t kill me,” she said, “God, I wish you could.”
His gaze turned from hard to something akin to understanding. Pulling his sword away, he extended a hand to her. “And how long ago was it that you figured out that you couldn’t be killed?”
“Two weeks,” she replied. What surprised her the most was that even though she could still feel him, it didn’t hurt nearly like it had before.
He looked around her to the box that she had been hiding in. “Is that your home?”
She nodded.
“Do you have no one who helps you?”
She didn’t say anything. Her head tilted down and she looked up at him from under her lashes. “I am on my own. No money and no family.”
He sighed. “I really am a shepherd. C’mon. I have a place not too far from here. There’s a shower, a warm bed, and hot food.”
Amber smiled gratefully. She wasn’t sure what he’d want in return, but she’d always been able to wiggle her way out of situations. He wasn’t bad looking either. Maybe, just maybe, she could make herself invaluable to him.
**end flash**
Amber took a bite of her sandwich. “It was rather surprising to me. The fact that he didn’t want any kind of payment. It was like he was my long lost guardian… or big brother.” She shrugged. “I don’t know how else to explain it. I wrote my first book about him.”
“What?” Richie asked, so Mac had been used in the romantic genre before.
Amber laughed lightly. “I did. Though back then it wasn’t necessarily a sex book. More like a war hero. Because, that’s what he was. It was more biographical, though I could never let on to anyone that that’s what I had done. And I published under the name of Andrew Haggardy. Amber actually his great-granddaughter.”
It was Richie’s turn to chuckle. “I like that.”
Amber watched a handsome man walk by. Her appreciation for the male forn never swayed.
“You need a moment,” Richie asked.
Her attention went back to her companion. “Nah! And don’t give me that look, Richard. Two minutes ago, you oogled the waitress.”
“So I did,” he responded. Reaching out, he took her hand and lightly kissed the underside of her wrist. “But really, the only woman who can hold my attention is you.”
Playfully batting her eyelashes, she said, “Why you silver-tongued devil you! You keep up that talk and I may force you to put your money where your mouth is.”
“Niiiiiice,” he said, standing and pulling her with him. “So, when do I get to hear more about the great Andrew Haggardy?”
Putting her head on his shoulder, she sighed contentedly. “Anytime, Mr. Redstone.”
Richie choked slightly. She was damn good at this ‘touche’ thing as she liked to call it. “Amber Haggardy, you are incorrigible.”
“You started it.”
“So I did,” he replied, “so I did.”
The End
Tags: amber haggardy, duncan macleod, het, humor, joe dawson, light original character, rating: pg, richie ryan, romance