Guin's eyes were fiery as she gestured to the maternity dress display that they had stopped in front of.  "Why don't you scoff at this too, it's something else I'll never have," she spat out at him in a low growl.

"It's what?..."  Connor's voice trailed off and he shook his head as her meaning finally registered.  "Guin, I wasn't taunting you."  He held out his hand for her to take.  "Honest."

Guin looked at his palm suspiciously.  "Then what were you snorting at?"

"That dress seems extravagant to me."  Connor shrugged.  "I'd rather see you in something simpler, that shows off your natural beauty."  Connor gave her a sly smile and a wink.  "And maybe a sash of MacLeod tartan to match my kilt."

Guin dropped her eyes and blushed.  "I'm sorry I got so hot-headed."

Connor put his arm around her and squeezed her tightly.  "I wish I could give you everything you want.  But some things even money can't buy."  Guin could see the sadness in his eyes as he looked at the maternity store display.

"I've got everything I need right here," she replied, wrapping her arms around him.  "Especially if you're willing to talk wedding dresses."  Guin smiled as Connor looked down at her.  "For now I'm satisfied just knowing you are actually considering the long-term."  The pair walked away from the display and headed down the street, arms around each other.

"Do you think you'd say yes?" Connor asked hesitantly.  "If I asked?"

"You mean if you asked me to marry you?"  Guin raised an eyebrow at him incredulously.  He nodded.  Guin gave a half-shrug.  "Yeah, I suppose so.  I mean, I'd like us to think about it and talk it over before we do anything official about it, even engagement.  Because of our circumstances, a commitment will require a lot from both of us.  It's not going to be easy."  She twitched her nose.  "On the other hand, it's not a cakewalk for us now, either.  And we've been pretty committed to each other lately."  She blushed.  "And I love you.  A lot."

"So tentatively -- unofficially -- you'd say yes?"  Connor's eyes twinkled as he looked down into her face.

Guin stopped short, putting her hands on her hips as she turned to face him on the deserted street corner.  "All right, just what are you getting at?"  She fought a smile as she pursed her lips in mock anger.

Connor took her hands in his, his voice quiet and tender.  "Tentatively," he put his face close to hers, "unofficially, will you agree to marry me someday?"

Guin's eyes opened wide.  "I really didn't think you'd manage to say it."

"So are you going to answer me, or just leave me hanging?"  Connor gave a charming wink.

"Oh, I'll just leave you hanging."  She almost laughed as his expression began to turn to disappointment.  "Oh, come on now, I just told you.  Tentatively...yes."  Guin put her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"Whatever it takes, I want to spend your life with you," he said quietly, tightly embracing her.

"And I want us to spend it together too."  Guin looked into Connor's eyes.  "But there are things we should discuss before we get in too deep."

Connor nodded.  "I know.  Can we think about that later and just enjoy the moment now?"

"Oh, yes."  Guin squeezed him tightly one last time before letting him go.  "I intend to enjoy every moment I can with you."

Taking Connor's hand firmly in hers, Guin began to hum as they walked down another street of shops.  The pair meandered around Prescott's center, with Guin stopping every now and then to ask in bewilderment, "Did you really ask me what I think you asked me?"  Connor would just laugh and nod in response.  Finally the time came to meet Claire at the St. Michael's Hotel Cafe.  They ordered a light lunch and chose a table near the windows looking out on the street.

"You'd better wipe those feathers from your lips," Claire remarked cryptically.

"Hmm?" Guin subconsciously brought her fingers to her mouth, and Claire laughed.

"I'm trying to tell you that you look like the cat who ate the canary.  So you'd better tell me what the hell is going on.  Ili ne hochesh po angliski?"

Guin shook her head.  "Won't work, he speaks Russian," she intoned flatly, jerking a thumb in Connor's direction.

"Really?" Claire raised an eyebrow.  "I'm impressed.  Kinda screws up our code talking, though."

"It doesn't matter this time, he's part of the news."  Guin beamed.  "He sort of...well...we tentatively agreed to get married."

"Tentatively?" Claire asked suspiciously.

Guin shrugged.  "We need to talk some things out before we make it official, I think, but barring anything major, it'll happen."  She glanced at Connor.  "Is my interpretation of our agreement correct?"

He nodded.  "Perfectly."

Claire smiled broadly.  "Well, then, congratulations!  Should I pick up some champagne when I go to get the ingredients for tonight's lasagna?"

"Whatever you want, just remember that I'm going with you to get this stuff so I can pay for it," Guin replied.  Claire frowned hard.  "No protesting," Guin admonished her.  "For once I've got a lot more money than you.  You're being a very gracious hostess, and I'm not going to overburden you.  Besides, if I can't spend on my best friend, who can I spend on?"

"All right, all right, fine.  I'll let you do it.  This time."

"And no champagne for you.  We'll get sparkling cider instead.  That child of yours is more important," Guin said matter-of-factly.

"You're right.  I almost forgot about that."  Claire sighed.  "Sometimes this really gets to be a pain in the ass."

"Nine months of taking good care of yourself will be well worth it in the end."

"I know.  It's just a change I haven't gotten used to yet."  Claire smiled.  "But it's a terrific feeling.  You'll have to try it," she teased.

Connor fidgeted through the lunchtime chatter, particularly with Claire's continuing taunting regarding Guin and Connor's potential children.  Guin took it in stride, but Connor could see the mix of disappointment and longing on her face whenever the subject popped up again.  Claire seemed to notice too, and eventually let the idea go.  After lunch, the three returned to strolling around the shop-lined streets, eventually ending up in The Cat's Meow, a collectibles shop.

"I love coming in here," Claire remarked.  "So much neat stuff.  Sometimes I wonder if they ever sell anything, though."

The trio wandered around the store, careful not to bump into any of the crowded tables of miscellaneous -- and often breakable -- wares.  Guin and Claire were both quickly drawn to a display of porcelain Winnie-the-Pooh figurines.

"Are you still a Pooh freak?" Guin asked her friend.

"Mmm hmm.  These are so cute too..."  Claire drew a sharp intake of breath.  "But the price tag's not so adorable.  Ouch."

Guin looked at the tag: $75 for the set.  "Could be worse," she remarked.

"More than I've got to blow."

"Would you like them?" Guin quirked an eyebrow at Claire.

"You're not serious."  Claire shook her head.  "I can't let you do that."

"Your birthday's coming up.  So is Christmas.  And it's not that much out of my pocket."  Guin elbowed her friend.  "C'mon, let me do this one thing for you.  If you like them, let's get them."

"You're already buying dinner..."

"Which you're making..."

"And you paid for lunch..."

"Which cost all of twenty dollars for the three of us..."

"Carol....er....Guin..." Claire burst into laughter.  "I can't believe we're arguing over this."

Guin waved her finger at Claire.  "Damned Scottish pride..."  Connor cleared his throat audibly, and Guin laughed.  "I'm surrounded," she told Claire.  "I've got you for the slightly watered-down version, and him for the extra-strength version."

"You're the one who picks 'em that way," Claire reminded her.  "No one forced you to make friends with Celts, you manage to seek them out all by yourself."

"So do you want them?" Guin turned their attention back to the figurines.

"Let's look around a bit more first," Claire replied.

"You're just hoping I'll forget about them when we're looking around."

Claire shook her head with a smile.  "We know each other too well."

As Guin turned away from the display, another item caught her eye.  "What a beautiful mantle clock," she exclaimed, fingering the delicately carved wood.  "Mom would love this," she told Connor.  "Wonder if my sisters would hide it til Christmas."  She grimaced a bit as she flipped over the price tag.  "Mom would kill me if she knew I was spending this much.  But I owe her more than I could ever repay."

"That's what moms are for," Connor replied, flashing Claire a sideways smile.

Guin nodded.  "Then I'm buying it."  The three continued to browse, with Guin and Claire oohing and aahing over various trinkets and do-dads.  Guin stopped in front of a 5-by-7-inch silver picture frame, sparsely decorated with detailed flower and leaf patterns.

"That's pretty," Claire piped up.  "And very you."

Guin shook her head.  "I don't need it."

Connor furrowed his brow at her.  "It's not that expensive."  Guin shrugged.  "Do you like it?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Can you afford it?"  He gave her a sly smile.

Guin blushed.  "Yeah."

"Then buy it."  Guin frowned and twitched her nose, and Connor shook his head.  "You'll drop hundreds of dollars for someone else, but not twenty-five for yourself."

Guin shrugged.  "I'm still not comfortable buying things for me."

"Then I'm buying it for you."  Guin started to protest, but Connor interrupted her.  "I'm not taking no for an answer.  You're going to get that frame, even if I have to make you do it."

Guin made a face at him.  "Scotsmen," she frowned, saying it as if it were a swear word.

Claire laughed.  "I like him, Guin.  He's good for you."

Connor pointed at Guin.  "This is the person who won the lottery, moved halfway around the world and bought a used car."

"It was what I wanted," she protested, "and it was a good price."  Guin stuck her tongue out at him.  "And who's the one who owns the ancient Porsches, anyway?  I'm not the only one stuck in my rut."  Guin shrugged.  "Come on, let's look around some more."

Connor followed them around the store for a little while, then picked a spot to stand in and watch the pair of women interact.  He smiled at their camaraderie, then frowned as he realized why this was new to him.  She doesn't have any friends back home, he thought.  And the few she has -- Giles, Rebecca MacInnes -- are just work associates.  I'm used to being alone, but not Guin...she used to have friends, but risked them all to move halfway around the world and start over.  He shook his head sadly.  E-mail just isn't the same as having them all nearby.

"What's wrong?" Guin asked as she came back to stand in front of him.

Connor shook his head.  "Just thinking.  Are we ready?"

After making their purchases -- with Connor making sure that the silver frame did not get left behind -- the three got into Claire's car and headed for the grocery store, where Guin asserted herself in paying for dinner, along with the cheesecake and sparkling cider for their celebration.

Dinner passed quickly as the foursome chatted.  Having warmed up to Claire, Connor was more talkative, and this in turn got James to open up.  In fact, the men continued talking while Guin and Claire went into the kitchen to get dessert.

"So now you're committed," Claire said with satisfaction.  "When are you going to join me in parenthood?"

Guin shrugged.  "It depends...on a lot of things."  She paused, frowning.  "Connor can't have children, Claire."

"Why didn't you tell me that before?" Claire scolded.  "I would've shut up about it a lot sooner."

"It's just a fact of life.  And we've been talking about other ways to have kids."  Guin shrugged.

"Well, there are a lot of advances in fertility sciences lately, I'm sure that with some testing they could figure out something to counter his low sperm count or whatever it is..."

"It's not low sperm count per se, and he can't go to doctors for help, because..."  Guin stopped herself and shifted uncomfortably.

"Because..." Claire prompted.  "Because he doesn't trust doctors?  Because it's against his religion?"

Guin pursed her lips thoughtfully.  "I can trust you with anything, right?  Trust you to not say anything to anyone?"

"You know you can," Claire answered, her expression worried.  "What's up?"

"What if I told you Connor was...different.  Genetically.  Than us."  Guin bit her lip.

"You mean like a chronic illness?"  Claire furrowed her brow.  "I thought he seemed a little down and distracted, but if that's the case, doctors should be able to give him some advice..."

"No, that's not it," Guin replied.  "Not like a chronic illness.  I mean like..." She took a deep breath.  "He's Immortal, he's been alive for nearly five centuries and he can't die."

Claire's brow furrowed deeper, and she stared at Guin.  "Ummm...I know you're my best friend and all but...are you nuts?  Or have you just been watching too many sci-fi movies?"

Guin bowed her head.  "Neither, I'm afraid.  It's true.  He could prove it to you, I suppose, he proved it to me."

Claire shook her head.  "It was a trick, Carol, okay?  Guin.  Whatever.  Whatever he did, it wasn't for real.  What kind of crap is he feeding your mind?  There's no way he could..."

"Claire, the idea freaked me out at first.  He was trying to explain it to me, and I was terrified of him.  I pulled a full steel dagger and stabbed him myself, repeatedly.  He died, then revived, with not a scratch on him."  Guin looked her friend in the eye.  "It's quite real.  I've witnessed it.  He doesn't age, and he can't have children.  And the only way to kill him is to cut off his head."  Claire remained wordless, her jaw hung open.  "I'm sorry to lay all this on you now, but I hated holding back anything from you..."  Guin whirled around as Claire's head shot up.  They both stared at Connor in the doorway.

"Problem?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, no," Guin replied.  "It's just that...I...I told her, Connor."  Guin let out a long sigh.  "I should have warned you I was going to do it, but..."

Connor waved his hand.  "That's all right."  He looked over at Claire, who was having trouble closing her mouth.  "Are you all right?"

"Is it true?" Claire finally managed to ask.

Connor nodded.  James peered in the door behind him.  "Is everything okay?"

Claire shook her head to clear it.  "Yeah, everything's just fine," she said cynically.  "Except that Carol...Guin...just revealed that her boyfriend is centuries old and can't die."  She looked at Connor suspiciously.  "Maybe we could sit down while Connor explains this again?  I'd like to know what garbage you're filling my friend's mind with."  Carol pushed past Connor and walked back into the dining area.

Connor reached over and pulled a sharp blade from the knife block.  "I suppose a demonstration would work better," he frowned.

Guin leaned over to him as they returned to the dining room.  "I'm sorry," she whispered.  "I shouldn't have said anything."

Connor took her hand and gave it a firm squeeze.  "It's all right, I told you that you could."

Guin shook her head as they all sat down.  "I should have kept my big mouth shut," she said, leaning her chin in her palm.

"What's done is done," Connor told her gently.  He turned to Claire and James.  "Are you sure you're ready for this?"  They nodded, Claire still giving Connor a suspicious evil eye.  Connor took the knife into his right hand and squeezed his eyes shut.  "I hate this," he muttered, gritting his teeth as he swiftly and deeply stroked the blade across his left palm, drawing a good amount of blood.

Claire gasped, and she and James both leaned forward, but Guin held up her hand.  "Wait."  Guin took a napkin, dampened it and wiped Connor's hand, which had already healed completely.  Claire's eyes opened wide, but she said nothing.  James just stared at Connor's woundless hand.  Connor shifted uncomfortably, closing his hand and sitting back in his chair with a heavy sigh.

James shook his head incredulously as he finally found his voice.  "That's... something else."

"They call it Immortality," Guin took over the explanation, feeling guilty for having dragged Connor into revealing himself.  "They heal quickly, and they can't die by normal means."

"By normal means?" Claire repeated, beginning to come back to her senses.

"As I said before, you'd have to sever their head from their shoulders," Guin replied quietly.  She looked over at Connor, who was looking down at his hands.  "Immortals don't age physically, either."  Guin's eyes connected with Claire's.  "Connor really is 480 years old."

Claire narrowed her eyes in thought.  "Those men they found beheaded in Tucson..."  Her look turned to fear as she stared at Connor.

"There are many Immortals among us, Claire," Guin told her.  "They're human, but they are born different from us.  And they have a destiny to fulfill."  Guin struggled to fight the right words to continue.

"By our nature, we battle each other for power," Connor filled the void, his voice quiet.  "The power-hungry seek out these battles, the rest of us just fight when we have to.  But we have to fight to the death."

"And were you involved with the men in Tucson?" Claire asked bluntly, narrowing her eyes.

"What would you do if I said yes?  Turn me in to the police?"  Connor's steadfast gaze challenged her.

"I...uh...no."  Claire returned his gaze, her face deadly serious.  "But I'm not just feeding my own curiosity.  I want to know what kind of person you are.  I want to know if you're putting my best friend in danger."

Connor nodded slowly.  "I can understand your concern.  But I wouldn't hurt Guin.  Ever."  He paused.  "I'd risk my life for her."

"And he has," Guin added, laying her hand on Connor's shoulder.

Claire scrutinized Connor's face, looking deep into his eyes.  She nodded.  "I believe it."

Connor sighed deeply, although to some extent he was relieved to come clean.  "The first man was my friend.  He was killed by the second man, who was my cousin.  My cousin invited me to talk, then tried to take my head while my back was turned.  He forced me to fight him to the death.  And he lost."  Connor shrugged.  "I did what I had to."

"C'mon, Claire," Guin chided her friend, "haven't you ever had to do something you really disliked, but you knew you had to do it?"

"Not murder."  Claire turned a dour eye on Connor, who at her words stood up and began to pace the room, frustration written in his actions.

Guin sighed and stood up as well.  "C'mon, Connor, let's pack our things and go."

"And if they call the police?" he cocked an eyebrow at her.

She shrugged.  "They have no proof.  But I'd rather not stay here if they're not comfortable with you."

"Carol...Guin."  Claire held up her hand.  "It's just taking me some time to adjust, okay?  You should know better than anyone that it'll take a bit for all this to sink in right.  Don't be so hasty."  Claire looked up at Connor again.  "Does your son know?"  Connor nodded.  "And what does he think?"

Connor shrugged.  "He deals with it.  Like we all do."  Connor sat back down, rubbing his temples.  "None of us enjoy this.  But it's a fact of life for me."  He looked Claire straight in the eye.  "I can't tell you the number of times I wished I weren't so...unusual."

Guin smoothed back his hair as she reclaimed her seat next to him.  "I know the Immortality is not your favorite part of yourself, but it does make you who you are."  She smiled gently at Connor.  "You may be different than the rest of us, but I wouldn't have you any other way."

Claire looked at them for a long moment, then shook her head incredulously.  The corners of her mouth finally turned up into a half-smile.  "Leave it to you to get involved with someone unusual," she remarked to Guin.  Claire turned her attention back to Connor and held out her hand.  "Can I take a closer look?" she asked.  Connor reluctantly set his hand in hers, palm up.  Claire prodded gently at the unbroken skin that should have still been bleeding profusely.  "Incredible."  She shook her head again.  "And what causes this?  Some genetic defect, if you could call it that?"

"Nobody knows," Connor answered.  "It just happens.  One day you die...and then you come back to life."

Claire connected eyes with Connor, and she nodded.  "Very interesting."

"I know it's a lot to take in," Guin said apologetically.

"Damned straight it is," Claire answered.  "I didn't think you'd lie to me, but when you told me, I thought for sure he was a psycho who had conned you into believing this.  Now..." Claire shook her head, then offered Connor a smile.  "It's real, all right.  I guess I should feel better that you're not a psycho."

"Not psycho," Connor replied quietly.  "Just...different."

"I just wanted to be able to talk to someone about this," Guin emphasized.  "And Connor was good enough to give me his permission last night."  Guin gazed lovingly at him as they clasped hands.  "Claire, James, I'm sorry I dumped this on you so suddenly.  I wasn't going to tell you at all, but I just sort of...fell into explaining.  I was hoping you'd take it well."

"You should have known it wasn't going to be easy, from your own reaction to it," Connor commented.

"She freaked out?" Claire asked with a smile.

"Oh yeah," Guin replied.  "Full-fledged."  She sighed.  "I am so sorry, you two.  I didn't mean to fry your minds tonight.  I just wanted to be able to talk to someone about it, and you are two of the few who might understand.  Or at least be willing to try."

Claire nodded slowly.  "It's okay, I guess.  I mean, I understand you wanting someone to share this with.  It's pretty damned incredible."

"And I really wanted someone I could share this with if this...well, if this really is for the long term."  Guin squeezed Connor's hand and leaned her head against his shoulder.  "Now maybe you understand why we only tentatively got engaged.  There's a lot to be thought out before we take any definite steps."

Claire leaned back with a grin.  "Well, that makes for some age difference."

At last Connor smiled.  "Yeah, but it doesn't stand in our way.  Much."

"I can trust you two not to say anything, right?" Guin asked anxiously.

Claire laughed.  "God, who would we tell?  'Yeah, my best friend's engaged to this five-century-old dude who can't die.'  You have nothing to worry about."

"Speaking of engagement...should we get that cake and faux champagne now?"

"I'll get it."  Claire patted Guin and Connor's entwined hands.  "Wouldn't want to break up the lovebirds, you know."

The conversation among the four continued late into the evening.  With his secret revealed and accepted, Connor was straightforward in answering questions, and Claire and James became gradually less self-conscious asking questions about his Immortality.  For the most part, however, conversation turned as conversation does, from Claire and the baby to family matters to Scotland.  Finally they all wandered off to bed.

Guin sighed as she settled in next to Connor.  "I'm so sorry I opened my mouth tonight," she said with a frown.  "I should have at least warned you."

"That's all right."  Connor shrugged.  "These things happen."

"I swear to you, I will never, never, ever do that again.  God, I am such an idiot..."

"It's okay."  Connor gazed into her eyes and winked.  "Really."

"I just needed someone I could rely on to talk to about this, someone on my side, especially if you and I are going to be spending a lifetime together..."

"Enough already!"  Connor laughed and kissed her forehead.  "It's done, it turned out fine.  Stop thinking about it."  Gently he cradled her against him.  "Anyway, it's nice to be able to be myself -- really myself -- in front of a few people."

Guin searched his eyes to see that he was telling the truth, then wrapped herself around him.  "I love you," she said quietly.

"I love you too," Connor replied, pulling the covers up over them. 

Claire followed the direction, then nodded.  "Perfect."  Claire glanced over her shoulder, then walked over and sat down on the sofa between James and Connor.  Gently she nudged Connor with her elbow.  "Why were you watching me?" she asked, giving him a keenly knowing look.

Connor half-shrugged.  "I wasn't watching you."

"Yes you were, I noticed it too," Guin added.

Connor flashed his significant other a peeved look.  "I was just watching you arrange the figurines."

"He was blinded by your pregnant glow and trying to figure out how to shield himself from it while reading," James teased, poking his wife's ribs.

"Will you stop that?" she scolded with a smile.  "I do not glow that much."

"Speaking of glow," Guin added, "I don't think the sun's going to make an appearance today.  If this rain isn't going to stop, we might as well head out.  Are you ready to go, Claire?"

"What are you two going shopping for?" James asked.

"Baby stuff, of course," Guin answered.  "And to make a few payments on some layaway items you've got, if Claire'll let me."

Claire shook her head.  "I told you..."

"At least the crib, Claire.  Please?"

Claire blew a frustrated snort and rolled her eyes.  "Fine.  Okay.  Just the crib."

"We'll negotiate from there."  The women glared at each other until they burst out laughing.  "Later, guys," Guin called over her shoulder as she and Claire grabbed their purses and coats and headed out the door.

The two men remained silent for a few minutes, then Connor spoke.  "What's it like?"

"What's what like?  You mean expecting the baby?"  James raised his brows at Connor, who nodded.  "It's like nothing else," James said quietly.  "Exciting, frightening, wonderful, horrible.  She's got mood swings like you wouldn't imagine.  But every moment's worth it, knowing what we're being blessed with."

"Guin glows just thinking about making that baby blanket," Connor remarked with a sad smile.  "Guess that's as close as she'll get, staying with me."

"But she loves you, man.  That's obvious."

"We'll see how long that lasts, when so many around her are having children."  Connor stared at nothingness on the wall.

James shook his head.  "She'll find a way around it, believe me.  If she's this wrapped up in you -- in anything -- nothing else will matter.  She'll find a way to make it work.  That's how she got her job."

Connor furrowed his eyebrows.  "What do you mean?"

"You have to get a permit to work in the UK, right?" James asked.  Connor nodded.  "Just moving there, even when you have a lot of money and can support yourself, you can't work there, legally.  Guin wanted to be in Scotland, but she wanted to be working too, wanted a purpose.  So she sought out an international company that would hire her for her knowledge and be willing to cut through the red tape to have her.  It wasn't easy, I know that much from the frustrated all-hours e-mail that arrived for Claire.  But when that woman of yours is determined about something, almost nothing can push her off track."

Connor laughed mildly.  "I had noticed that about her."

"All you have to worry about is what she might be planning."  James grinned, then flipped on the television.  "There's nothing on during the week anymore," he commented as he channel-surfed.  "Hey, wrestling," he cheered as he stopped on one channel.  "If you don't mind watching it, that is."

Connor shook his head.  "Nothing like some good pro wrestling to take your mind off things." 

"Yes, we are little boys," Connor replied with a grin.

"Pro wrestling?" Claire asked incredulously.

Guin shook her head.  "Why am I not surprised?"

"Since the rain has momentarily stopped, you two gentleman can go out and get the stuff out of the trunk of my car," Claire added coyly.  "And if you're up to it, you can put the crib together.  Much more productive than watching wrestling."

"Can we watch wrestling while we put it together?" James asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"You're awful!" Claire teased.  "Fine, just get it inside before the rain starts again, all right?"

The two men brought in the crib box, then cleared a space in the middle of the living room for the assembly.  Claire sat down on the sofa with the instructions, while Guin picked up her yarn and began to crochet.  With Claire for guidance, James and Connor had the crib well underway by the time real conversation started up again.

"So, ready to face the family tomorrow?" Claire asked Guin as she carefully eyed the work the two men were doing.

"Am I ever ready?" Guin retorted.  "I'm just going to try to take it as it comes."

Claire nodded.  "Sounds like a plan."

"Are they really that bad?" Connor asked Claire.  "I want a second opinion."

"I don't know, I've never actually met them," Claire replied.  "I just know about them through her."

"Sometimes they're good, sometimes they're bad," Guin added.  "But I always make it a rule to prepare for the worst.  Especially since I haven't seen them in a while."

"Nothing like frustrated family members to make you truly believe that absence makes the heart grow fonder," Claire remarked cynically.

"No kidding."  Guin sighed.  "Sometimes family is just too much."

"Speaking of family, may I use the phone?" Connor asked as he glanced at his watch, then opened up his wallet for his phone card.

"Time to check up on the kid?" Guin inquired.  Connor nodded.  "I'm surprised you don't check up on him every day."

Connor laughed.  "I think he'd lecture me if I did that."

Claire hunted down the cordless phone and handed it to Connor.  "How is John, by the way?" Claire asked Guin.  "I haven't even thought to ask."

"He's good.  Great kid.  I couldn't ask for more."  Guin glanced over at Connor and smiled.  "A good upbringing will work wonders."

"So adoption could be good?" Claire inquired quietly.

"It's possible, anyway.  There are other options, even without his...input, shall we say."  Guin shrugged as she watched Connor pace the dining room, his expression animated as he talked on the phone.  "The subject of children has been coming up a lot.  I'm trying not to push too hard."

The drizzling afternoon and evening passed much as the morning had.  Claire and Guin had rented a couple of movies while they were out, and the four sat around the living room engrossed in An Affair to Remember and Goldeneye, with Guin, Claire and Connor debating the proper use of Russian in the latter -- causing James to comment, "I feel like I'm in the middle of a linguistics lecture."

The two couples went to bed early, to let Claire and James get to work the next morning and to give Guin and Connor an early start getting to Phoenix.  Guin and Claire hugged as Connor put their things in the Mustang -- something he realized he hadn't seen them do during their entire stay.  Connor took the wheel as he and Guin started the trek back to Phoenix.

"You miss your friends," Connor remarked bluntly once they were on the highway.

Guin shrugged.  "Of course I do."

"Being with them, I mean," he added.

Guin's brow creased as she turned to him.  "Yeah.  Your point?"

"You need some friends you can be around at home," he finished.

"I've got friends in Scotland.  I've got you and John, and Ceirdwyn, Giles, Rebecca..."

Connor shook his head.  "No, friends," he emphasized.  "Not workmates.  Not me, not John, not our friends.  Your own friends."

"People I can be close to, like Claire and Wyn?" Guin inquired.  Connor nodded.  "That takes time, Connor.  And it depends on circumstances.  I just don't have the circumstances to meet people outside of work or us."

"You should try to."  Connor settled down into the driver's seat and put on the cruise control.

"Why is this suddenly so important to you?"  Guin turned a puzzled look on him.

"You're different around them."  Connor stared out the windshield as he spoke.  "I'm seeing things I haven't seen before."

Guin turned her gaze to the side window.  "Is that a bad thing?" she asked, worry embedded in her voice.

Connor looked at her in surprise.  "No," he reassured her.  "That's not what I mean."  He reached over and took her hand.  "You seem happier when you're around your friends."

"I'm happy when I'm with you," she protested.  "It's not any different."

Connor shook his head.  "But it is."  He returned both hands to the wheel to navigate around the semis crowding the highway running through the hills, at the same time trying to find the words to explain himself.  "You relate to them differently -- you have more shared experiences with them.  You shouldn't lose touch with that."

Guin shrugged.  "I suppose.  It's fun to pal around with them, while I'm here.  I guess I do miss that a bit at home, but I've got plenty of other things to keep me busy."  She glanced at the mileage sign as they passed, and sighed.  "T minus one hour," she said sourly.  "More or less, anyway.  We'll drop off the stuff at the hotel and get settled before heading to Mom's."

"When is she expecting us?"

"Not until after noon.  I thought we might want to look around Phoenix first, but I think that can wait, actually.  I'd rather prepare for the visit."

"What's to prepare for?" Connor asked her.  "Don't I know enough from what you've already said about your family?"

"There's just some behavior stuff."  Guin pursed her lips.  "Like be polite.  And please don't make any questionable innuendoes in front of them, they're good at picking out these things.  Their own speech is full of implications of what they think, they know how to read between the lines.  Mom's pretty laid-back, so is Maggie -- that 's the youngest.  Kate -- she's the oldest -- she's the most antagonistic, very cynical.  Most of it's just teasing, but we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot lately..."

"You're really worried about this," Connor interrupted with a grin.

"Why shouldn't I be?  It is my family we're facing, after all."  Guin grimaced.

"I know how to behave myself," he replied coolly.

"But there are certain things you should know how to interpret.  I'm just warning you."

"Like what?"

"Like silences.  God, don't let the silences go on too long.  They speak volumes."

"Example?"  Connor raised a brow at her.

"When I told them I was moving in with you -- we conference-called.  I could hear everything they weren't saying, as well as what they were.  They asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this, and then after I said yes, there was just this long silence.  I could hear their minds cranking.  'You don't know him well enough, how do you know what he's really like, blah blah blah.'  Then they finally asked if there was some sort of official rental contract, in case you decided you didn't want me living there.  I said yes.  Then I could just hear them fishing for reasons for me not to move in.  They do this all the time -- they put out the silence to guilt me into acquiescence."

"And do you always give in?" Connor inquired.

"No.  But it doesn't keep them from trying.  And it just makes a mess of my mind by the time I make my decision on anything."  Guin frowned.

"Don't pay attention to them, then," Connor replied bluntly.

"Easy for you to say, big shot -- you haven't had a parent or overbearing sibling in four and a half centuries -- even if you count Ramirez!" she protested heatedly.  "Even when my family isn't around, I'm ingrained to hear their voices in my head.  It's too late to ignore them, I have to give in to them or fight them."

How wrong you are about me, Guin.  Ramirez's voice still haunts me that way.  "But some of their advice isn't so bad, is it?" he argued. "They're family, you can't blame them for wanting to protect you."

"Why are you taking their side?" Guin shouted, slamming her fist against the armrest.

"I'm not taking anyone's side!" Connor yelled back.  He shook his head and frowned.  "You aren't warning me, you're using me," he accused.  "You don't want them to think you're a freak, even though you seem to think they've already made that assumption.  I'm only useful to you if I reinforce the fact that you're an acceptable adult."  Connor let a moment of silence go by.  "Am I right?"  Guin didn't answer.  "Fine.  Forget it, just forget I said anything about any of this.  Forget I tried to help."  A few more minutes passed in uncomfortable silence.  Having cooled down a bit, Connor finally reached over for Guin's hand, but she pulled it away.

"Do you think holding my hand is going to make everything okay?" she asked snidely.  Connor didn't reply, but kept driving.  The silence continued for the remainder of the trip, all the way to the hotel.  Connor held out his arm for Guin as they got out of the car, and reluctantly she took it as the bellhop got their bags.  As they approached the doors, Guin tripped over a step, managing to prevent herself from falling only by gripping Connor's arm tightly as he reached over to grab her.  She released him as she straightened out her footing and steadied herself.

"Are you okay?" Connor asked, the sincere concern shining through his expression.  Guin nodded, blushing deeply, and Connor gently put his arm around her.  Guin leaned into his embrace as they continued toward the building.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.  "For all of that...in the car."

Connor nodded.  "I snapped pretty hard too."  He smiled faintly.  "You'd think by now I'd know better than to piss off women.  Sometimes I thought Heather would beat me within an inch of my life for some of the things I said."  Connor fell silent.  "Sorry, I shouldn't bring her up."

Guin shook her head.  "I don't mind.  Really.  And I don't want you to feel like you can't talk about her, Connor.  She's a part of you, I don't want you to lose or forget that.  The more you talk about her, the more I understand your love for her.  And the less jealous I get."

"You're sure?" he asked.  "I don't want you to think I'm being disloyal to you..."

"You wouldn't be," she said firmly.  "And you would be disloyal to her if you let her memory go.  I could live with myself if I caused you to do that."  Guin raised an eyebrow at him.  "So Heather really got that mad at you?"

"Mmm hmm.  Brenda too."  He laughed.  "I guess I can be pretty good at the old 'open mouth, insert foot' sometimes."

Guin nodded with a grin.  "Yeah, I think I could agree with that.  Mostly when your temper gets the best of you."

"Heather and Brenda were pretty good at putting me in my place when I needed it.  They were strong when it counted."  Connor kissed Guin's temple.  "Like you."

Guin held up her hand.  "Don't."

"Don't what?" Connor furrowed his brow at her.

"Don't make comparisons just to make me feel better."

"I'm not."  Connor looked at Guin seriously.  "I mean it."

After taking care of checking in, the couple made their way to their room.  Guin glanced out of the window and snorted.  "Big, ugly, stinking, polluted place," she remarked, turning from the view.

Connor shrugged.  "Typical big city.  You'd hate New York then."

Guin frowned.  "You're probably right.  I like my new small-town home.  Quiet, comfortable.  And you can't tell me you felt that way in New York."

"No.  I was anonymous.  Which was how I liked it."  Connor shook his head.  "Still do.  People at home see me as eccentric because I'm not social.  They don't know much about me.  And I like it that way."

"I like my privacy too.  Which is why I'm not very comfortable around my sisters -- I'm so different from them that I feel like their questions are akin to prying."  Guin sighed.  "So, are you really prepared for this?"

Connor laughed.  "You make it sound like we're entering a combat zone, Guin."

Guin shrugged.  "Maybe we are."

"I'll be on my best behavior, I promise."  Connor kissed her cheek, then gestured toward the door.  "Shall we go?"
 

"You should have just come in, it was open," her mother responded with a smile.  "Just like it usually is.  Come on in."  The woman stepped out of the way for them to enter.  In the living room were two other women.  Guin motioned toward them.

"Those are two of my sisters, Maggie and Kate," Guin began the introductions.  "And this is my mom," she gestured to the woman who had opened the door.  Guin stepped back to let Connor take center stage.  "This is Connor."

Guin's mother offered her hand to Connor.  "You can just call me Rhea, like my sons-in-law do."

"Thank you, Rhea," Connor said politely, shaking her hand.  "Good afternoon, ladies," he addressed Guin's sisters.

"Please, have a seat," Rhea ushered them toward the loveseat.  Before seating herself, Guin reached up and pulled a book off the shelf, and beginning to leaf through it as she sat down.

"Great, come here to visit and then ignore us," Kate said sarcastically.

Guin waved her off.  "There it is," she said, pointing to a page as she shifted the book onto Connor's lap.  "He knows who Elisabeth Aufmuth is, Mom," Guin informed them.  She leaned over to the book again.  "'After the death of her parents and siblings,'" Guin read, "'Elisabeth spent nearly two years in Tucson, Arizona, living under the care of saloon owner Connor MacLeod, who had offered to take her in until family could be found back East.'"  Guin proudly gestured toward Connor.  "He's related to Connor MacLeod."

"Really?" Rhea asked.

Connor quickly did the math in his head.  "He was the older brother of my great, great grandfather."

"It's amazing how things connect down through the generations," Maggie commented.

"Yes, it is," Connor agreed.  Guin noted the mischievous twinkle in his eye, and hoped her family hadn't caught it.

"So how was your trip?" Maggie continued, outwardly oblivious to Guin's nervousness.  "Aside from the obvious, I mean -- funerals aren't great occasions.  I'm sorry to hear about your friend."

"A tragic loss," Guin replied uncomfortably.  "But the funeral was nice, as funerals go.  And I got to see my friends and show Connor around Tucson a bit, so that was good."

"And Prescott.  How's Claire?" Rhea asked.

"Claire is..." Guin laughed.  "Well, Claire is pregnant, so I'm guessing all is well with those two.  Being there gave me the chance to buy them some stuff for the baby."

Rhea turned her head at a noise from the kitchen.  "The coffee must be finished brewing."

"I'll get it," Kate offered.  "Carol...oh, excuse me, Guin," Kate wrinkled her nose contemptuously, "would you help me?"

Guin gave an acerbic smile.  "Sure."  She followed her sister into the kitchen.

"Why didn't you stay with Mom?" Kate asked, getting out the coffee service as Guin turned off the coffee pot.

"Because I didn't think she'd be ready to put us up that quickly, and I didn't want to be in her way."  Guin poured the coffee from the pot into the server.

"You just didn't want to nookie under her roof," Kate taunted.

"We don't always nookie," Guin retorted.  "Connor and I are quite capable of behaving ourselves, thank you."

"Well how would we know?  All we know is you're under his roof.  Maybe he's just a sugar-daddy."

"I don't need his money."  Guin flared her nostrils.  "I have my own.  He and I just happen to get along.  He's a good person."

Kate shrugged.  "We'll just have to take your word on that, since he hasn't said much yet.  For all we know...well, they did find those two beheaded men in Tucson while you were down there.  Who knows, maybe he's a serial killer."  Kate smirked.

"What gives you the right to make an accusation like that?" Guin vented her anger, her face flushing.

"Oh come on, I'm just giving you a hard time," Kate retorted.

"Yeah, and you always do.  And I get real tired of it," Guin fumed, her voice raised.

"Will you get a grip?  I'm just teasing."

"And I don't appreciate it."  Guin turned and stormed out, heading for the living room.  All eyes were turned on her as she sat down self-consciously next to Connor.  She took deep breaths to try to calm herself down.  Kate re-entered soon after, setting down the coffee service and sitting across the room from Guin.

"So...what kind of antiques do you sell, Connor?  Do you specialize in anything?" Maggie inquired of Connor, attempting to ignore her sisters' ugly vibes.

Connor inconspicuously took Guin's hand into his as he answered.  "Mostly small collectibles...crystal, silver.  More eighteenth and nineteenth century items than newer ones.  A few larger items, but usually things that are easily shippable, as I do a lot of international trade."  He gave Guin's fingers a quick and reassuring squeeze, and she let out a long breath.

"I take it you do pretty well in that," Maggie replied.

"Quite well, actually.  Some of the pieces are in high demand.  But I won't take anything that might be stolen.  I bank my reputation on that, and it's made me very popular with other reputable dealers and their clients."

"Do you collect things yourself?" Rhea asked, leaning back into the sofa.

Connor shrugged.  "A little.  Most of the things I keep myself have sentimental value, or are things that I find beautiful," Connor gestured to the shelves lined with trinkets and knick-knacks, "much like yourself."

"How long have you lived in Scotland?" Kate inquired.

"I was born there," Connor replied, "but I've lived in lots of different places.  I've been in this house four or five years now."  He glanced over at Guin and smiled.  "Hopefully for many more to come.  It's nice to be settled."

"Don't you have a son?" Kate continued.  "Where is he now?"  Guin glared at her.  Damn you and your prying questions.

"He's staying with a very good friend of ours right now," Connor gave Guin's hand another comforting squeeze.  "I didn't think it would do him good to miss two weeks of school to be here with us.  But he means the world to me."

"And he's how old?" Kate arched her brows.

"He's twelve."

"My daughter Nancy is eleven, so is Maggie's son Seth.  He'd fit right in.  I hope we get to meet him someday."  Kate looked over the rim of her cup pointedly as she took a sip of coffee.

"Absolutely."  Connor shot Guin a glance as she gripped his hand tightly.  He wanted to tell her that he knew what her sister was implying, and that he wasn't going to let the words goad him into saying something he'd regret.  But all Connor could do under the scrutiny of Guin's family was gently and rhythmically stroke her fingers with his thumb and try to calm her down non-verbally.

Rhea turned to her youngest daughter.  "Carol...oh I'm sorry, Guin..."

"Mom, you can call me whatever you want," Guin reassured her.  "I'd be honored to have you call me the name you chose for me.  Makes it easier around the family, anyway."

Kate wordlessly mouthed a repeat of Guin's response with a sarcastic face, and Maggie kicked her.  "So we're allowed to slip up?" Maggie teased with a smile.

Guin nodded, giving a sly wink.  "For now, anyway."  She looked expectantly at her mother.  "You were about to say?..."

Rhea hesitated.  "I just wanted to ask...Are you thinking of coming home for Christmas?"

Guin shrugged.  "I dunno," she mumbled.  "Depends."

"She couldn't care less if she ever saw us again," Kate remarked dryly.

"That's not true!" Guin nearly shouted back, teetering over the edge of self-control.  "You're just saying that because you couldn't care less if you ever saw me again!"

"Will you two cut it out?" Maggie interrupted.  "Geez, you're worse than our kids."  She turned to Guin.  "I know you've got schedules and work to think about, but at least consider coming, even if it's just for a couple of days.  We'd love to have you here."  Maggie flashed a "be quiet" look to Kate.

Guin nodded.  "I'll think about it."  Connor put his arm around her, and she looked up at him.  "What do you think?"

Connor shrugged.  "I'll go with whatever you decide.  I'm not going to push you one way or the other."

Guin perked up suddenly.  "Mom, did you look for that stuffed toy I wanted?"

"No, but I'm sure it's still in your old room."  Rhea looked puzzled.  "Why that one in particular?"

Guin blushed.  "It's the only one I specifically remember Dad picking out for me."  She patted Connor's knee and stood up.  "I'll be right back."

Guin strode down the hallway and hesitantly opened the second door on the right, flicking on the light.  The room hadn't changed much since she left; most of her childhood was still firmly in place, along with a few relics of the time when she had shared the room with Kate.  Guin picked up the small overstuffed parrot she'd come to retrieve, but sat down on the bed with a heavy sigh, her eyes roving over items she knew she should give away or throw out, but couldn't bear to.  A few moments later, Kate came in and sat down next to her.  They remained silent for a couple of minutes.

"You don't really think I never want to see you again, do you?" Kate asked quietly, her gaze wandering over the room.

Guin shook her head.  "No.  You don't really think I never want to see you all again either, do you?"

Kate shook her head, and tentatively put her arm around her sister's shoulders.  "Are you happy in Scotland?"

"Yeah."  Guin hooked her arm around Kate.  "I'll have to bring you all out to visit."

"Really?" Kate arched her eyebrows.  Guin nodded.  "Sounds like fun."  Kate fidgeted, then sighed.  "Connor seems like a really nice guy."

"He is," Guin assured her.  "He's the best."

Kate nodded.  "It's good that you're happy."

Connor knocked on the open door, eyeing the pair in amazement.  "Am I intruding?"

Guin shook her head.  "Come on in.  Welcome to my childhood."  Connor investigated the array of typical children's items in the room: stuffed toy animals, molded papier-mâché statues, models, toy action figures, porcelain figurines, children's and teen books next to an array of modern fiction and classics.  "It's kind of embarrassing, but this was me," Guin remarked.

"I think it's interesting to see a little of what you were like," Connor replied with a smile.

"Did your parents keep shrines to their kids like this?" Kate asked cynically.

Connor shook his head.  "My parents died when I was very young, and I don't have much from my childhood," he replied.  "But I've become more...sentimental since then."

"Kate, I thought you were going to help me with this pie," Maggie's voice called down the hallway.

"I think that's my cue."  Kate stood up.  "Don't forget your binky," she teased Guin, ruffling her younger sister's hair.

"Thanks," Guin said, wrinkling her nose.

"Your binky?" Connor inquired after Kate left the room.

"The stuffed snake I had when I was little."

"Stuffed snake..."  Connor's look was a mix of bemusement and shock.

"You know, a stuffed animal, a toy.  It was about 4 feet long, I guess.  I loved it.  Took it everywhere with me.  Don't know where it is anymore, though.  Doubt we still have it.  She's just using it as another reference to me being a baby."  Guin grimaced.

"Oh."  Connor blew the dust off of a couple of picture frames.  "That's you?" he asked with a grin, pointing to the picture of a small girl in pigtails riding a Big Wheel.

"Mmm hmm.  Embarrassing, isn't it?"  Guin half-smiled.

"Nah, I think it's adorable."  Connor turned his attention to another photo, that of a wedding party.  "This was Kate's wedding," he remarked, recognizing the bride's face.

"Yep.  That's everybody, grandparents, aunts, uncles..."  Guin paused, her smile fading.  "And my dad."  Guin walked over and touched the picture gingerly.  "I don't have a lot of pictures of him," she said quietly.  "We just didn't take a whole lot.  Maybe I should take these with me too."  Guin slid the pictures from their frames and rummaged through the desk for something to put them in.  Connor opened a drawer and leafed through the papers stacked there: report cards, awards, honor roll notices.

"Had so many of these that you couldn't put them all up?" he asked her.

Guin shrugged.  "We never put that kind of stuff up.  I always got good grades, it was normal."

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't celebrate it," he commented.

"My parents weren't like you, Connor.  Where John's achievements are proudly heralded in your hallway, neither my achievements -- nor any of my sisters' -- were ever remarked upon highly, we didn't have hallways lined with awards.  Not even the fridge.  It just wasn't done."

"No wonder you're such a perfectionist," Connor observed.

Guin shrugged.  "I suppose so.  Because doing well was 'normal,' I always focused on what I was doing that wasn't good enough.  I tend to see my negatives.  But that's just me."  Guin set the clasp envelope of pictures underneath the stuffed parrot on the bed.  She reached over and closed the drawer Connor was still standing over.  "Let's go."

"Carol," Rhea called as she appeared in the doorway, "this came for you, I almost forgot about it."

Guin took the envelope from her mother.  "Oh good grief," she muttered, frowning at the Muscovite return address.  She looked up at Connor.  "Misha," she said venomously.  Guin tore open the envelope and pulled out the card inside.  "Great," she moaned, "a birth announcement.  Like I want to see this.  What an ass for sending it."

"Well, if things come in threes, that's three," Connor responded.

"Is it?" Guin furrowed her brow at him.

"For us," he replied.  "Alex, Claire, Misha."

"Well, whaddya know, you're right."  Guin looked down at the card.  "Don't suppose it'd be good karma to rip this up, no matter how good it'd feel."

Connor shook his head.  "But you could always leave it here, and your mom could 'accidentally' throw it away."

Rhea shook her head.  "I'm not going to 'accidentally' anything.  Do you want me to throw it away?"

Guin looked down at the envelope.  "Nah.  I'm going to send him a congratulations card.  And I'm going to sign it with both of our names, and I'm going to mail it from Scotland."  Guin grinned.  "Oh come on, did you think I was going to be nice about it?"  Connor just shook his head, but smiled.

"Kate and Maggie are going home pretty soon.  You two will stay for dinner, won't you?" Rhea asked.

Connor looked questioningly at Guin, and she nodded.  "Sure.  It's good to catch up."

Guin was the quiet one during dinner as Connor and Rhea got to know each other.  She was proud to see how well they got along.  When dinner was over, Guin shooed Connor out of the kitchen.  "Go watch TV or something."  Connor smiled as he settled down in the living room, guessing what she was up to.

Guin made sure Connor was out of hearing range, then began helping her mom with the dishes.  "Well, what do you think?"

"He seems very nice," Rhea commented.  "Polite, interesting.  Sounds like you have quite a few things in common.  I can see why you've fallen for him."

Guin nodded.  "He has...ummm...indicated a desire to marry me."  She licked her lips nervously.

"Good."  It was all Rhea said.

"Then you approve?"  Guin bit her lip.

"That's not for me to decide."  Rhea looked at her pointedly.  "It's your life, your decision."

Guin nodded.  "I know.  I just want you all to like him.  I don't want to make waves."

Rhea shook her head with a smile.  "You made waves when you moved to Scotland.  You made a lot of waves when you moved in with him.  But these were your choices to make.  And so far they've turned out well, even if it means you're far away from us."

"I'm going to try to come back here more often," Guin said guiltily.  "I promise."

"I'd like that."  Rhea dried her hands.

Guin swallowed hard.  "I miss it here sometimes, you know?  I didn't think I would...I mean, not that I don't love you all but...I mean..."

"I know what you mean."  Rhea sighed, smoothing back her daughter's hair.  "I know you were trying to escape, even before the lottery.  That's why you went to college in Tucson, wasn't it?"  Guin blushed.  "Then after the money came, you had the means to really escape...not only from your former so-called friends, but from us too.  Why else would you have changed your name, if you were going to be living somewhere else, away from these supposed friends?"

A tear trickled down Guin's cheek as she nodded.  "I just wanted to be myself, for once.  A name I chose for me.  I never meant to hurt you."

Rhea sighed.  "It's hard being the youngest, isn't it?  You've always wanted to be more grown up.  In some ways, you were always more grown up than your classmates, because of your much older sisters."  Rhea put a hand on her daughter's shoulder.  "But you never quite felt equal, did you?  Not old enough.  Especially not old or wise enough to be your own person."  Rhea hugged Guin to her.  "I'm proud of you.  You've made your own way, done what you wanted to do and have been successful at it.  And I'm glad you've found someone to share all that with."

"I'm glad too.  Even though I had to move halfway across the world to find him."

Rhea nodded.  "Now, it's been a long day for all of us, I suggest you go back to the hotel and get some sleep."

Guin gave a teary smile.  "Getting rid of us so early?"

"Just giving you some time to yourselves."  Rhea smiled back.  "You can stop by for another visit tomorrow."

"We'll take you out to dinner," Guin said firmly.  After a moment's hesitation, she hugged her mom.  "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," Rhea answered.  "We don't say that enough, do we?"

Guin shook her head as she broke the embrace.  "No, we don't."  She wiped the tears forming in her eyes and beginning to cascade down her cheeks.  "Goodnight, Mom."

"Goodnight?" Connor asked as he peered into the kitchen.  "We're leaving?"

"Yep.  Mom thought we could use the sleep."  Guin winked at him as she wiped her face.

Connor gave an exaggerated yawn.  "Yes, we could."  He shook Rhea's hand again, and with a bit of uncertainty kissed her cheek.  "It was a pleasure to meet you."

"Yes, a pleasure."  Rhea shooed them out of the kitchen to the front door, with Guin collecting her photos and stuffed animal from the sofa where she'd left them before dinner.  "Have a good night, you two," Rhea called after them.  "If you can't sleep, you can always try a movie."

Connor laughed as they got in the car.  "Not a bad suggestion."  He looked over at Guin, who had pulled inside herself and was staring dully out the window.  "That wasn't so bad, was it?" Connor asked calmly as he buckled his seat belt and started the engine.  Guin shrugged.  "Would you mind telling me what happened in the kitchen with your sister that set you off?"

"My sister jokingly made an accusation about you that didn't sit too well with me."

"Which was...?"  Connor glanced at her as he pulled out of the driveway.

"That maybe you were a serial killer, associated with the beheadings in Tucson."

"Oh."  Connor shrugged.  "You could have told her she was right."

"Instead I blew a gasket at her for taunting me yet again, like she always does."  Guin frowned.

"And did it solve anything?"

Guin flared her nostrils.  "No, of course not.  She just blew me off."

Connor shook his head.  "You're not going to be able to change her, Guin.  You're just going to have to learn to live with it instead.  And it looked to me like you know how to get along with her too."  Guin silently stared out her window.  "You talk so much about how you don't get along.  Why won't you admit you like being around them sometimes?"  Guin shifted in her seat, but didn't respond.  "Is it so terrible to admit that sometimes your family actually acts like a family toward you?"

"What are you trying to do, Connor, get me say that I miss them?  Fine.  I miss them, okay?  Are you happy now?"  Guin blew out her breath in a huff.  "Did you think you were the only one who has pushed the world away from them because it hurt too much to care about others?"  Guin's tone left it clear that she didn't expect an answer, and Connor didn't offer her one.  Instead he silently wheeled through the streets of Phoenix as Guin retreated inside herself again.  Guin immediately opened the car door as they arrived at the hotel, forcing Connor to jog to keep up with her as she approached the front door.  Connor followed her to their room, closing the door behind them and putting the car keys down on the dresser with a noisy jangle.

"I take it that means you're pissed," Guin said solemnly.

"You're the one who's pissed.  I'm just staying out of the line of fire."  Connor sat down on the bed and began to untie his shoes.

Guin sat down next to him, staring for a few long moments at her hands clasped in her lap.  She remained silent as Connor finished removing his shoes, then she tentatively rested her hand on his knee.  "I'm sorry I'm taking things out on you."

"I'm not your enemy," Connor said gently, resting his hand on top of hers.

"I know."  Guin shook her head.  "I've just always had conflicting feelings about my family.  It's never as bad as I think it'll be, but I still feel I have to hold back, that they won't accept me as I am."

"I know this is going to sound like a lecture, but can I say a few things?" Connor asked.  Guin nodded.  He took a deep breath.  "There are two kinds of families: the one you are raised in, and the one you choose," he began, pulling her hand into his lap and toying with her fingers.  "Aside from awkwardly attempting to provide the first for Rachel and John, I don't know all that much about it."  Connor frowned.  "Or, I should say, I don't remember much about it.  It's been too long since I had one."  Connor paused to let this sink in, then continued.  "The second I know too well...I've recreated, added to and subtracted from it for nearly five hundred years."  Connor shifted, obviously uncomfortable with speaking so openly, even to Guin.  "It's not easy to find people you can trust with the details of your life -- even if it's not every detail.  But it's necessary for your sanity."  Connor squeezed her hand as he chose his next phrases.  "With this second, chosen family, you have shared ideas, interests or circumstances that link you together, and that's usually more binding, but less restraining, than normal familial ties."  Connor paused again.  "Don't get me wrong," he added, "the ties between siblings or between parents and children can be strong, and necessary to survival, but they also can be binding to the point of strangulation."  Guin nodded in full agreement.  "But the ties we form with a family of friends make up the safety net that lets us feel free to fly."  Connor squeezed her hand again.  "So when your 'real' family frustrates you, remember that you have other 'family' to fall back on."

Guin sighed deeply.  "You're right.  You're absolutely right."

Connor fidgeted.  "Now here's the lecture," he laughed, searching for words before continuing.  "On the other hand, you shouldn't give up on your real family so easily.  They love you more than you know, even if you don't see it, or they don't show it so readily."

"We just don't connect, Connor.  They don't understand anything about me: why I left, why I changed my name, why coming back to visit is painful."  Guin looked down.  "Well, maybe Mom.  She pretty much hit the nail on the head tonight, when we were doing dishes.  But the rest of them, they'd never understand."

Connor cocked an eyebrow.  "Have you ever tried explaining these things to them?"

Guin turned her eyes away.  "It's not worth the trouble."

"How do you know if you haven't tried?"

"Because I know, okay?  They never understood why I like to write, they never understood why I studied Russian, they never understood why I didn't end up exactly like them when I came from the same gene pool.  They've never understood, never attempted to, and believe me, it hasn't changed any."

"All I'm saying is give them a chance."

"It's not worth the bother."

Connor shook his head.  "I didn't have a choice.  All my family ties were severed for me, and it still haunts me.  You know that better than almost anyone else alive, Guin."  He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them gently.  "I just don't want you to make that mistake, when you do have a choice.  Don't burn your bridges.  Your family members are not your enemies either, they're just different from you."

Guin half-shrugged.  "I know."

"And they're only suspicious of me because they care about what happens to you."  Connor tried to catch her eyes.  "Sometimes love reveals itself in strange ways.  You should take it whatever way it comes."

Guin sighed.  "You're right.  But it doesn't make it any easier."

Connor put his arm around her and squeezed her shoulders.  "I know.  But you should still give it a try."  He poked her in the ribs with a devilish grin.  "And you should lighten up.  You're too brooding."

Guin laughed.  "Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?"

"You think so, eh?"  Connor tickled her, leaving Guin giggling and squirming on the bed.

"Stop!" she demanded, still laughing.  Connor relented, only to offer her a deep, tender kiss.  "Mmm, much better," she commented, running her fingers through his hair.  "Though I do appreciate you getting me to laugh."

Connor shrugged.  "You lighten my moods, it's only right that I should return the favor once in a while."

"Is that why you love me?  Because I lighten your moodiness?"

"Mmm hmm," he said as he kissed her neck.  "That, and sex on a regular basis isn't a bad thing either," he added in her ear.

"Connor!" she scolded.

"Hmm?"  He raised an eyebrow at her.

"You are incorrigible!"

"Mmm hmm," he agreed, pressing his lips to her shoulder.  "But you like it, don't you?"

"I'm really glad that you and my mom seem to get along," she commented as Connor clicked past several sports channels.

"Me too."  Connor eyed the television dispassionately.  "I didn't think I'd actually be worried about your family liking me."

"They're enough to make your nerves stand on end, aren't they?" Guin smirked.  "You're past the worst of it, though -- Kate, to be specific.  If you can handle her sarcasm, you can handle anything the rest of my family throws at you tomorrow."  Suddenly she waved her hand at the television.  "Wait, that was something good, go back."  Connor complied, flipping back through the channels until she stopped him.  "There, that's it."

Connor furrowed his brow as he watched the screen.  "What is that?"

"Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes," she trumpeted.  "Great movie."

Connor raised an eyebrow incredulously.  "You aren't serious."

Guin gave him a reproachful look.  "It's an interesting, more serious take on the legend.  Give it a chance, I think you'll like it."

"Maybe it'll look better with more wine," Connor taunted her, refilling their glasses.

"Behave," she scolded him.  "You can be so closed-minded sometimes."

"I'll make you a deal," he offered.  "You rub my back, and I won't make comments during the movie."

Guin shook her head with a smile.  "Fine.  But one peep out of you and you owe me a full-fledged massage after the movie."

"That's because they're the ones you have to fit in with," Guin replied.  "But they'll probably just be watching football.  You've got it easy."

"I'll need easy, after being up half the night."  Connor winked at her.

"That's your fault," Guin reminded him, trying to suppress her smile.  "You just couldn't resist making remarks during the movie.  For putting up with that, I certainly deserved that massage."

"It was worth it."  Connor grinned devilishly.

"I sure hope so," she replied with a smirk.  "My supposed 'relaxation' was certainly an awful lot of work on my part."

"Was it?" he inquired, his grin broadening.  "I'll have to make up for that later."

The pair fell silent at the sound of the lock being turned.  The door opened to reveal a pre-teen girl in a pink sweatshirt and jeans.  "Hi, Aunt Carol," she chimed.

"Hey, Nancy.  This is my boyfriend, Connor."

"Hello," Connor greeted her with a smile.

"Hi," the girl replied shyly.  "Come on in, Mom's in the kitchen..."

"Not anymore," said Kate, appearing in the doorway behind Nancy.  "Everybody's here, as you can probably tell by the cars, so come join the crowd."

"And she means crowd," Guin remarked to Connor as they entered.  Two more older children cruised by.  "That's Seth and Lisa.  Seth's eleven, he's Maggie's, and Lisa's nine, she's Lynn's."  The stepped into the living room, where they were greeted by three men who were watching over three more smaller children.  "That's Kate's husband Mike, Lynn's husband George and Maggie's husband Tim.  And those are Gina, two, Maggie's; Matthew, three, Lynn's; and Marcus, five, Kate's."

"Good memory," Tim complimented her.  Guin stuck her tongue out at him.

Another woman walked into the room, heading for the kitchen.  "And the last -- Lynn, this is Connor."

"Hello."  Lynn smiled at him, then turned to Guin.  "The womenfolk are gathering in the kitchen.  Are you going to join us, or go outside with the other kids?"

Guin made a face at her.  "I'll be in there in a minute."  Squeezing Connor's hand, she whispered with a wink, "behave yourself."  She walked toward the kitchen, leaving him to watch football with the guys.

Maggie, Kate and Lynn were busy talking about their kids and school, with Rhea adding her own views.  Guin listened in for a long while without speaking, the familiar feeling of being out-of-place settling over her.  During a brief lull, she finally voiced her own views, from the point of view of having helped John with his homework, and comparing and contrasting with schools in Scotland.  Guin was quite surprised -- and very pleased -- to find that her sisters were not only listening to her, but acknowledging her opinions and ideas.  Eventually the subject turned from her sisters' lives to Guin, her job and her relatively new home.  From her purse, Guin produced the photos she had brought along to show off.  She had pictures of her office, the people she worked with, the house and its accompanying acreage, the horses, Mandy and, of course, John.

"So that's your stepson...well, almost stepson," Maggie remarked.

"Connor's son," Guin corrected.  "No relation of mine...yet."

"Yet," Lynn emphasized.  "The question is, when?"

"We've thought about getting married," Guin confessed, "we've talked about it, but we're in no hurry."

"Why should you be?" Kate retorted.  "He's getting it all already, without the burden of a commitment."

"Will you just stop?" Guin's nostrils flared.  "Can't I do this at my own pace, my own way?"

Kate shrugged.  "If you're that involved, why don't you just do it?"

Guin took a deep breath to calm herself.  "Because there are some other factors involved that I'd rather not discuss -- health-type issues -- that might be a problem later on.  Just things that he and I need to talk out fully before we go through with anything that decisively says we intend to spend the rest of our lives together."  An uncomfortable silence ensued.  "I don't intend to leave him because of these issues," Guin finally added.  "And I'm pretty certain he wouldn't leave me.  They're not life-threatening, just things we ought to have a plan of action for.  And that's all I'm going to say on the matter."

Rhea nodded thoughtfully.  "As long as you're thinking things through, we don't have any objections."  Rhea gave her other daughters a meaningful look.

"Thank you," Guin replied quietly.

Kate glanced at her watch.  "We'd better get the barbecue started."  She leaned through the archway into the living room.  "Mike, it's time to start the grill."

"Gotcha," came the reply, followed by the footsteps and the sound of the back door opening and shutting.

Kate opened the freezer and pulled out hamburgers and chicken breasts.  "You're not vegetarian or anything like that now, are you?" she asked Guin.

Guin shook her head.  "Haven't had a good hamburger in a long time, though."

"Too much filet mignon?" Maggie teased.

Guin rolled her eyes, but kept her cool.  "Just because we have some money doesn't mean we waste it all," she said flatly.  "We grocery shop, we cook, we wash our own dishes and clean up after ourselves.  We're not so different from you."

"We know you don't waste it all," Kate replied quietly.  "We do appreciate the money you've set aside for the kids' college funds."

Guin shrugged.  "If it helps them get through college without having to borrow, all the better.  That's the kind of thing family is for."

"Speaking of the kids," Maggie interrupted, "we're all planning a trip to the zoo tomorrow.  Would you and Connor like to come with us?"

"Sure," Guin replied.  "Sounds like fun.  It's been ages since I did anything like that."

Kate and Rhea began assembling the rest of dinner while Lynn went outside to check on the kids.  Guin took Maggie aside.  "I bought something for Mom for Christmas," Guin whispered.  "Would you hide it for me til then?"  Maggie nodded, and they stole outside to transfer the clock from the Mustang to Maggie's minivan.  Guin left her sister to retrieve other items from the van and returned to the house.  Only Tim and Connor were left in front of the football game.  Gina and Matthew were still playing on the living room floor; Gina was building structures with blocks, while Matthew took great joy in knocking them down as fast as she could put them up.  Guin could tell Gina would get frustrated and leave their little "game" soon.

"Where's George?  Outside?" Guin asked.

Tim shook his head and gestured over his shoulder.  "In the computer room.  Loading up some new software to show us."

Movement caught Guin's eye -- Mike was waving Tim outside.  "Give me a hand with this, will you, Tim?"

Tim began to stand up when Gina toddled up to him.  "Daddy, read," she pleaded, holding a book toward him.

"Daddy's got to go help Uncle Mike," he told her gently.  "Why don't you ask Aunt Carol?"  Gina looked at Guin doubtfully as Tim walked out the back door.

Connor leaned forward toward the little girl.  "Would you like me to read to you?" he asked.

Gina stared at him a moment, wide-eyed and uncertain.  Finally she nodded, handing him the book while she crawled up on the sofa next to him.  Guin watched Connor open the book and begin to read.  Soon Gina and Connor were joined by Matthew.  Connor's expressive voice and animated facial expressions as he read and pointed out things on the pages caught Guin off guard.  That's so unlike him, she thought with a smile.  And yet it fits, somehow.

Connor looked up at her as he finished, his eyes twinkling.  "It's been a long time since John was this little," he remarked with a broad smile.

"More!" came a little voice beside him as Gina tugged at his sleeve, looking up at him in adoration.

"More?" he repeated to her with a grin.  "Well, go find another book and we'll have more."  Gina raced off and quickly returned with a different book.  This time she climbed straight into Connor's lap.  Soon Connor and his small friends were absorbed in the second story.

"Now that's adorable," Maggie whispered as she walked up behind Guin.

"And dang if it ain't giving me mommy urges," Guin whispered back.

"Have you talked about having kids?"

"A little.  He can't produce."

Maggie raised her eyebrows.  "But he has a son..."

"Adopted."

"Oh."   Maggie pursed her lips.  "There are alternatives..."

"And we've talked about that too."  Guin shrugged.  "The alternatives are long processes.  If we can get through that, fine.  If we don't end up with a kid or kids, then..."  She sighed.  "Then I'll just have to surround myself with friends who do, and spoil their kids rotten."

"So you're really planning on sticking with him, huh?"  Maggie eyed her sister critically.

"Absolutely."  Guin nodded resolutely.

"Then it'll work out somehow.  He's a natural dad, though."

Guin smiled.  "He is, isn't he?"

Connor glanced up, turning slightly red as he realized he was being watched, but he continued the story.  "I think you've been adopted," Maggie commented with a laugh as he finished.  Both children were on his lap now, still enthralled by his storytelling.

Gina looked up at Connor's glowing face.  "More?" she asked.

Maggie shook her head.  "Come on, honey, let Uncle Connor have a break, okay?  Why don't we go outside with the other kids?"  Gina and Matthew reluctantly clambered off Connor's lap and followed Maggie to the backyard.

Guin broke into a broad grin.  "So, 'Uncle Connor,'" she taunted, "did you enjoy your time with the kids?"

Connor shook his head as he laughed.  "Uncle Connor," he repeated.  "Now that's new to me."

Guin walked over and sat down next to him.  "You're good with kids."

"I try."  Connor shrugged.  "When they're that age, there's very little 'past' beyond yesterday, and little 'future' beyond tomorrow.  It's nice to live in the moment with them."

"Those moments go by all too fast.  You have to take the little pleasures where you can get them."  Guin smiled faintly.  "There's nothing like having a small child fall asleep against you...there's a bond with that, a feeling of utter trust.  I remember doing that with Seth and Nancy and Lisa."  She sighed.  "And here they are halfway to grown up.  It doesn't last long enough."

"No, it doesn't," Connor agreed.  "John's at that point, too.  And it seems like just yesterday he was sitting on my lap, listening to me read Dr. Seuss and Winnie-the-Pooh..."  Connor shook his head and let out a heartfelt sigh.  "But they've gotta grow up, you know?  All you can do is cherish those more innocent memories, and help them through their growing pains."  Guin fell silent, lost in thought.  After a few minutes, she stood up and rejoined her sisters in the kitchen.  Connor watched her go, a knot tightening in his stomach.  I know what you're thinking, Guin, he thought to himself.  You're regretting that you'll never have the experience of raising a child, you're regretting getting involved with me.  There will come a day when you'll have to choose between me and being able  to have children of your own.  He sighed.  I wouldn't blame you for choosing against me.  I only ask that you weigh the pros and cons thoughtfully and carefully.

Connor shed his own clothing and, switching off the lamp, stretched out next to her.  "Guin?"

"Hmm?"

Connor ran his hand lightly over her stomach.  "You want children, don't you?"

"Connor, don't start now..."

"Just answer me," he said, hovering over her so that she had no choice but to face him.  "You want kids, don't you?"

"Yes.  Yes, I do."  Guin sighed in frustration as Connor rolled onto his back again.  "We do have options, you know..."

"And what happens when I don't age?" he retorted.

Guin stared hard at him through the semi-darkness.  "Is that what's bothering you?  Well, then what happens to us when you don't age and I do?  That's not going to be explainable, after a while.  Especially not to my family."  She snorted.  "If you're just going to leave me in five years, or ten, you might as well leave me now.  I don't have as much time available to me as you do when it comes to starting over."  She rolled away from him.

"Guin," Connor said gently, curling himself around her, "I don't plan on leaving you."  He kissed her shoulder.  "Not in your lifetime."

"Then you'd better start thinking about how we're going to deal with this -- all of this -- now, because it's going to come up eventually."  Guin swallowed hard.  "And if you don't want to consider having children at all, by any means, then maybe we'd better rethink this whole thing."

"Is that a threat?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She turned to face him.  "A threat?"

"Well it is, isn't it?  If I don't want children, then you're going to leave me."  Connor stared into her eyes.  "Right?"

"No!" she protested.  "But...I do want them.  At least right now I think I do.  And if your answer is a blatant no, absolutely not, no matter what, then maybe this isn't going to work out."

"No matter what, they aren't going to be my children."

Guin sighed.  "For God's sake, Connor, no matter how hard we try, you and I -- you and anyone -- are never going to have biological children.  Period.  The end.  You raised Rachel.  You're raising John.  You're a good dad.  What is the bloody difference?"  Connor fell silent, rolling onto his back.  "That's not really the problem at all, is it?  What's wrong with becoming a dad again?"

"Another lifetime of protecting them from what I am and the people that come after me," Connor's voice drifted over to her through the near-darkness.

A calculating look passed over Guin's face, unseen by Connor.  "John's how old now?"

"Twelve."

"And how old was he when he found out about you?"

Connor calculated in his head.  "Eight."

"And was that the first time you'd actually had to protect him?"

"Yeah.  I'd sorta been out of the Game circuit, or at least participating elsewhere."

Guin propped herself up on one elbow.  "And how many times have you really had to protect him since then?"

Connor narrowed his eyes at her.  "Where is this going?"

"Just answer me."

Connor shrugged.  "Just a few times."

"Say once a year, on average?" Guin asked.  Connor nodded, still eyeing her suspiciously.  She leaned over so he could see her face.  "And how many times have you rescued him from nearly killing himself?  Crashing his bike, falling from trees, scraping knees, breaking bones, getting beat on at school, playing sports..."

Connor laughed.  "All right, you made your point."  He kissed her nose.  "But it's still not the same as having someone after you intentionally."

"Connor," she said, exasperated, "I come from a country where kids nowadays blow away other kids at school with guns, where men and women kidnap children that aren't theirs for all sorts of reasons, and where molestation and child abuse are far too common."  Guin shook her head.  "I didn't say it was going to be easy for us to raise a child.  It's not easy for anybody.  I'm just saying that it's possible.  If we last that long.  And if we can get through whatever red tape there is for whatever alternative we choose."  She smoothed his hair back and kissed his forehead.  "Just tell me that you'll consider it, at least.  You'll think about it and discuss it with me."

Connor nodded.  "That I'll do."  He reached up and touched her face.  "You really do want to be a mommy, don't you?"  He could feel her blush against his fingers.  "I wish I could do that for you," he added quietly, stroking her stomach again.

"Me too, honey," Guin replied, running her hands through his hair as he moved to kiss her abdomen.  "But we'll do whatever we have to."  She drew in a sharp breath as he moved further down.  "Doesn't mean we can't have fun pretending we're trying, though."

"It's not often I get to dress like this in November."  Connor's shrug almost set him off-balance as he tied his shoelaces.

"Glad you're taking advantage of it," Guin replied, making quick use of Connor's precarious balance by pushing him backward and straddling his abdomen.  "Speaking of taking advantage," she grinned, "perhaps we should just stay here and have a replay of last night, eh?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he grinned back, toying with the top button of her cream-colored blouse.  "But I think your family would be disappointed."

Guin leaned down and kissed him.  "So?" she taunted.

"So," Connor replied, beginning to tickle her, "I think we should go to the zoo and continue this later."  Connor flipped Guin onto her back, then tickled her mercilessly until she was breathless with giggling, his own laughter intermingling with hers.

"Later," she gasped between giggles.  "Promise?"

"I promise."  Connor kissed her gently, then pushed himself off the bed and pulled her with him.  "Come on, we're going to be late."

The zoo was only moderately crowded on this sunny Sunday, much to everyone's pleasure.  Connor's capacity to interact with children made him popular among Guin's nieces and nephews, and it was obvious that he delighted in entertaining them.  Guin smiled as she watched him talking with the older kids about the animals in the African Veldt exhibit.

"Have you ever been to Africa?" Seth asked.

Connor nodded.  "Once or twice."

"And is this really what it's like?" Nancy turned a dubious eye on the exhibit, then on Connor.

"In some places, yeah."  Connor returned her look.  "What, you think they make all this stuff up just for you?"  He winked at her with a smile.

"No," Nancy retorted.  "I just didn't think there were wild places like that anymore."

"There are some, but they are getting harder to find," he acknowledged.  Connor turned his head away from the exhibit, back toward the path.  "Looks like your parents are getting upset at us for lagging behind.  We'd better go."  Connor ushered the kids toward the area where the rest of the family was waiting.  He turned to Guin, who was looking not at the exhibit, but at a young family nearby.  Guin gazed at their baby stroller for a moment, then subconsciously laid her palms over her abdomen.  Connor put his arms around her from behind, setting his hands on top of hers.

Guin looked up at him, noting the pain in his eyes.  "It's an empty feeling, isn't it?" she asked quietly.  Connor nodded slowly.  A quirky smile lit Guin's face.  "Close your eyes and imagine with me," she whispered to him, waiting for his eyelids to drift shut before she continued.  "It's a few years down the road," she continued quietly, "we're married, and working on the next step.  Your arms are around me like they are now, but covering my swollen belly."  Guin raised her hands several inches to illustrate, lifting his hands with hers.  "We are waiting for our child to be born."  Guin took a deep breath, letting it out in a contented sigh.  "Genetics be damned, this is our child, yours and mine, for us to raise and love and protect."  Guin grinned broadly at Connor's faint but sincere smile.  He wrapped his arms around her tightly as he opened his eyes.

"Amazing," he said, shaking his head but still smiling.  "How do you manage to get through all my resistance and make me want to have children?"

Guin shook her head.  "Because all your resistance doesn't change the fact that you have wanted children for a very long time.  Look at Elisabeth...Rachel...John.  How many single men want the responsibility of raising a child?  Yet you've taken it on willingly, even eagerly, time and again.  Perhaps the thought of sharing that responsibility with someone makes it even more appealing."

Connor nodded.  "Perhaps."

"And perhaps it'd be nice to be a step closer to a normal human being again?" she questioned him.

Connor frowned.  "If we can make it work."

Guin stroked his cheek.  "We'll make it work.  It'll just take a little ingenuity."

Connor kissed her cheek as he finally released her.  "You make me want to make it work," he confessed as she turned to face him.

"Not to change the subject or anything, but where's your...er...companion?" Guin asked.  "I know you don't leave home without it."

"My American Express?" he replied with a grin.  "In the trunk of the car, in the coat.  As it has been every time we've gone out the past few days."

Guin nodded.  "Just making sure you're not getting absent-minded on me."

"I don't think senility's in my cards."

"Are you guys coming or what?"  Nancy put her hands on her hips as she walked up and gave Guin and Connor her most reprimanding look.  "Everybody else is way up there now."

"We're coming," Guin laughed.  Taking Connor's hand firmly in hers, she added, "can't separate ourselves from the herd now, can we?"

"I'm going to miss them," she finally commented.

Connor turned his head to her and smiled.  "It's good that you can finally admit that."

Guin blushed.  "I've been denying for years that I really care about them...and I know that ever since I've left, I've been denying that I miss them."  She sighed again.  "It just hurt too much to admit it."

Connor nodded slowly.  "I know what you mean."

Guin offered him a comprehending smile.  "I told Mom I'd try to come back more often," she said tentatively.

"That's a good idea," he agreed.

"I'd...I'd like to come back for Christmas, if we can arrange it."

"That shouldn't be a problem," Connor answered.  "Rachel wants me to come to New York for New Year's, we could come out here for Christmas first."

"Ah, Rachel's got an eye on your birthday, eh?"  Guin flashed him a smile as he nodded.  "That should be interesting."

"I think I'd rather be spending time with your family," Connor countered with a grin.

"You like them, don't you?" she accused playfully.

Connor laughed.  "Yeah, I do."

"Especially the kids.  You've had a blast with them the past two days."  Guin laughed as he blushed.  "There's nothing wrong with having a good time with the kids.  It always makes me feel good too."

 "It would be nice to be a father," Connor said quietly.

"You are one," she replied, furrowing her brows.

"Not really."

"Yes, really."  Guin put her hands on her hips.  "Just ask John, or Rachel.  From my view, you were obviously born to be a dad, you're good at it."

"I was born incapable of having children," he smirked.  "Not exactly father material."

Guin chuckled.  "A sperm donation does not a father make."  She walked across the bed on her knees and wrapped her arms around Connor from behind, kissing his cheek.  "And I love you for you, sweetheart.  Sperm count doesn't mean much to me in the grand scheme of things."

"You say that now," he replied softly.  "But wouldn't you like the father of your children to be their real father?"

"You are so pig-headedly hung up on this," Guin chided him with a frown.  "Okay, go back to that scenario I gave you at the zoo today.  I get impregnated, I have this child.  Now who's the father: the one who donated the sperm, or the one who changes diapers, feeds them, washes spit-up off his suits, helps them toddle their first steps, takes care of their hurts, and so on and so forth ad infinitum?"

Connor smiled faintly.  "I remember doing those things with John.  Especially after..." His smile faded.  "After Brenda died."

"And do you not want to go through that again?  Or are you afraid you're going to be left to raise the child on your own again?"  Connor remained silent.  "I know having a child is a risk to you," Guin said quietly in his ear.  "It's one more thing that someone can use against you.  And it's a big risk for you to open up your heart to yet one more being that, odds are, you will watch grow old and die.  But despite your sometimes hard exterior, you have a lot of love to offer.  I meant it when I said you were born to be a dad."  She paused as her cheeks reddened.  "And I would like you to be the father of my children, whether it be just one or several."

Connor turned his head to her, his eyes searching her face.  "You mean it?"

Guin smiled.  "Of course I do."  Her expression turned serious.  "But I also want you to be sure that you want them.  I know I was pushy about it last night, but it's a decision for us to make, not just me.  I'm sorry I was so selfish."

Connor finally turned his body to her, taking her into his embrace.  "You're not selfish," he reassured her.

"And it's not like we don't have years to decide anyway, right?  And other stuff to work out first.  This isn't so immediate..."

Connor put his finger to her lips.  "Don't talk yourself out of it, now that you've talked me into it."

Guin smiled, embarrassed.  "I'm just glad you're thinking about it."

"I told you I would, didn't I?  Besides, how could I deny you anything?" he asked her seriously, looking into her eyes.  "Especially when you can show me the future with just a few words."  Connor turned his eyes downward.  "I don't think about the future much.  Seems like every time I do, it gets threatened."

"Well," Guin said gently, "I'll make you a deal: you can teach me about the past, and I'll teach you how to look forward.  We'll do the best we can with the information we've got."  She smiled at him as her gaze reconnected with his.  "Nothing motivates your will to live like having something to look forward to."  Sighing, she leaned her forehead against his shoulder.  "I suppose we should go to bed, we've got a long journey ahead of us tomorrow."

Connor nodded and kissed her.  "I love you."

Guin stroked his cheek gently.  "Good, because I love you."

"I'm glad you decided to come visit us for a while," she told her daughter.  "I hope this is a good sign for things to come."

Guin nodded.  "We're going to try to come back for Christmas, Mom."  She made a face at her sister.  "With John, this time."

"I was hoping you'd say that."  Rhea hesitated, then embraced her daughter.  "I miss you, Carol."

"I miss you too, Mom," Guin whispered, trying not to cry.  "I'll come back more often, I promise."  She sniffled as they released each other.

Rhea looked over at Connor, and he embraced her gently but warmly.  "It was good to finally meet you," Rhea told him.  "Keep taking good care of my daughter, okay?"

"I will," he promised sincerely.

Guin tilted her head at the sound of an announcement over the loudspeaker.  "Sounds like we're boarding," she said.

Connor nodded.  "We should go."  He held out his hand to Kate.  "It was a pleasure meeting you."

Kate shook his hand firmly.  "It was a pleasure."

Connor almost laughed as he read her look: If you hurt my sister, I will kill you.  "Your sister's in good hands," he stated simply, connecting eyes with Kate.  She nodded.

"Carol," Kate called her sister over.  Guin just looked over at her dubiously.  "Fine, if you don't want a hug from me..."

Guin looked startled, but walked over to her sister and held out her arms.  Kate hugged her uneasily, patting her back.  "Hard to do something you're not used to," Guin commented as they backed off from each other.  Kate shrugged.  "We'd better go now," Guin said firmly, rolling her eyes to hold back the tears.  "See you at Christmas, I hope.  I'll let you know all the details when I get them worked out."  An uncertain moment passed, and she added, "I guess this is goodbye then."

"Have a good trip," Rhea replied.  Connor noted that she was using the same tactic as Guin in trying not to cry.  A few more goodbyes were exchanged before Guin and Connor managed to tear themselves away and head toward the boarding area.  Guin frowned in thought as they stood around this area for another wait.

"Penny for your thoughts," Connor said with a sly smile, repeating one of Guin's favorite phrases.

Guin shook her head.  "Just a few weeks ago, I don't think I would have acknowledged what they mean to me.  I don't even know if I would have really known what they mean to me.  It's taken me all this time and all these years to figure out that my family matters to me."

Connor shook his head.  "A lot of people don't figure that out until it's too late.  I think you're very lucky it didn't take you that long.  You get the chance to do something about it."

Guin nodded solemnly.  "When Mom and Maggie first suggested coming back for the holidays, I dreaded the idea.  But now I'm really looking forward to Christmas with the family."