"Aaaah!" Connor MacLeod gasped for breath as he sat straight up in bed, suddenly fully alert.  His wife Brenda, having been shaken awake by his sudden movement, sleepily patted his back.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" she asked gently.  "Bad dreams?"

Connor shook his head.  "Not so bad, really. But both were strange."

Brenda tugged him back toward the bed.  "Come here and tell me about them."  Still edgy, Connor laid himself back on the mattress, curling around Brenda and stroking her long, curly hair.

"I don't know how much I remember about them, but I'll try."  Connor took a deep breath.  "The first one...I was living in Marakesh.  I had to go back to New York to face an old enemy of mine.  He was a magician, and a shape-shifter."

"Lovely," Brenda commented sarcastically.

"I had an adopted son named John..."

"Now there's a nice thought."  Brenda perked up.

"...and you were dead."

"Oh, great.  Are you trying to get rid of me, Nash?" Brenda teased, using the fond nickname that had come from his last alias.

"Are you going to let me finish?" Connor asked, his tone exasperated.

"I haven't stopped you yet.  Go on."

"Thank you."  Connor sighed as he collected his thoughts.  "There was this archaeologist following me around.  She had found a scrap of my clan tartan at a dig in Japan, and was interested in finding out how it had gotten there."

"She? Oh, that must've been thrilling for you."  Brenda raised an eyebrow at him.

"I can't complain, I think she was the best part of that dream -- we had a lot of fun when we...er...I mean..."

"Yes?" Brenda asked, giving him a deadly look.  "When you what?"

Connor quirked an eyebrow at her.  "I could show you what we did."  He grinned.

"Not with her still on your mind, you don't," Brenda retorted.

Connor shrugged.  "Let's forget about her, all right?  As I was saying...I had to go to New York to fight this guy, and he'd kidnapped John.  I had to win to get my son back."

"And did you?"

"Yeah.  And went off to live happily ever after in Scotland."

"With the bimbo archaeologist and your son," Brenda added venemously.

Connor shook his head and chuckled.  "Would you like to hear about the other dream I had?"

"No more archaeologists?"

"No.  Just an eco-terrorist bimbo this time."

"Do you always dream about other women, Connor?"  Brenda looked at him seriously.

"No, of course not."  Connor kissed her tenderly.  "It's just tonight, I swear."

"And too much Glenmorangie."

"And too much Glenmorangie.  Indigestion does strange things to dreams, you know.  So don't worry yourself about it."  Connor touched her cheek softly.  "All right?"

"Okay.  So tell me about the other one."  Brenda curled up against Connor's chest.

"It was years in the future.  The planet was being destroyed.  I had helped build a shield around the earth, to replace the ozone layer, because people had been dying from overexposure to the sun..."

"I think you spent too much time in the sun today," Brenda countered.  "Either that, or it was the haggis you ate.  You really ought to stay away from that stuff."

Connor nodded.  "Fine.  Can I continue now, or are you going to interrupt me again?"

"I think I ought to be taping all this so I can use it against you later."  She grinned tauntingly at him.

"I don't think I want to remember these later on."

"Exactly."  Brenda stuck her tongue out.  "Oh, wait. Was I dead in this one too?"

"Umm...yeah.  You'd died from overexposure.  That's why I helped build the shield."

"Well, at least something good came out of me dying this time."

"Sort of."  Connor's nose twitched.  "The company that took over the shield's operation found out that the ozone layer had repaired itself, but because taking down the shield would put them out of business, they didn't tell anyone."

"Oh."  Brenda frowned.  "Go on."

"Well, I had grown old, I was the last Immortal left.  Until these porcupine-looking guys from another planet -- Zeist, the planet Immortals come from..."

"The planet Immortals come from?"  Brenda asked incredulously.  "Oh God..."

"Are you going to let me finish?"  Connor asked again.

"Go ahead, I'm listening."

Connor let out his breath in a huff.  "When I defeated them, I became young again.  Through some sort of magic, Ramirez came back to life."

"Ramirez?"  Brenda asked incredulously.

Connor firmly placed his hand over her mouth.  "The leader from Zeist came down, and I had to face him.  At the same time, Ramirez and I and the eco-terrorist woman went in to take down the shield."

Brenda pushed away Connor's hand.  "And everybody lived happily ever after."

"Pretty much."

"Except Brenda, who was dead, but that left you free and clear to diddle the little eco-terrorist woman."

Connor shook his head.  "You asked me to tell you my dreams.  But I knew I should have left out parts of these dreams when I told them to you..."

"Do you love me, Connor?"  Brenda asked seriously.

"Of course I do," he replied with a smile.  "You're in all my good dreams, the ones I want to remember.  These, I'd prefer they faded from my memory.  Women and all."

"You should write these stories down.  Maybe you could write screenplays or something."

"Do you actually think people would want to see things like that in a movie?"

Brenda shrugged.  "Maybe.  There have been worse movies made.  Although these'd rank right up there."  She ran her fingers through his hair.  "Go back to sleep, sweetheart.  Maybe a better dream will come along this time."