Adam sez...
Dear Diary,
*sigh*
That Duncan MacLeod, he's so dreamy. I hope he asks me to go to the prom with him. He does the cutest little thing with his tongue when we're making out....
...
Hah. Well that got rid of Joe reading over my shoulder. The bastard's currently trying to extract a cocktail umbrella from his oro-pharyngeal region. He'll be a while. Teach him the value of a man's privacy. Momentarily anyway. I'm not betting the farm on a permanent change.
So. MacLeod.
I promised I'd never tell a soul, but no one ever reads this thing anyway, right? So... Duncan MacLeod is addicted.
Addicted to home renovation TV shows.
But not any old home reno shows, only the British ones. You know, the ones with an excess of fey young men enthusing energetically in BBC accents about cornices and fireplaces. Yawn.
He sits there for hours with a glazed look on his face, completely ignoring yours truly, gawking slack-jawed at the endless parade of hopelessly rundown properties, fixer-upper specials and decorating disasters. He does so love to fix things.
But we all knew that.
And if dreaming about renovating (or indeed actually renovating) houses feeds that part of him that needs to fix stuff, well then he's not going to be looking at fixing other things. Like a certain significant other/boyfriend/partner/lover who's a bit of a run-down antique in original condition himself.
Ye gods, I'm starting to sound just like him. Send help now!