"Done."

 Guin hopped upstairs as Connor continued his nightly checklist. She had a routine of her own to follow, removing makeup, washing face, brushing teeth, changing into her flannel sleepwear now that the near-freezing late October evenings had taken hold. Back in Arizona, it would only be starting to get chilly at night, and her blood still hadn't quite thickened up to Scottish standards, as she was reminded every time Connor complained about her cold feet.

 She heard Connor come in and take care of his own bedtime routine as she was finishing changing inside the closet -- she yet retained some of her modesty, even with him -- and found him already under the covers when she came out.

 Guin crawled into bed and curled up next to Connor with a heavy sigh. "What was that for?" he asked, wrapping her in his embrace.

 Guin shrugged. "I dunno. Just feeling older."

 "You're only 28."

 Guin frowned. "Sometimes I just feel really old - so less enthusiastic about life, less optimistic, less carefree. And yet other times I still feel way too young, especially when it comes to my sisters reminding me I'll always be their 'baby' sister. And then there's you...sheesh, Connor, I'm four and a half centuries younger than you. Sometimes I hate being so young, comparatively. I'm surprised that I don't get more of that 'you're too young to understand' attitude from you."

 "I wouldn't do that to you," he said, holding her tighter. "And Immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be. Really." Connor's mouth twitched into a frown. "To tell the truth, I hate being Immortal." Guin had heard this sentiment before, but was still a bit surprised by Connor's blunt statement. She looked up into his face, but his eyes were closed. Sensing her, Connor opened them and turned his dark, painful gaze upon her. "I suppose you want to know why I said that." Guin nodded. Connor closed his eyes again, taking a deep breath to gather his thoughts before beginning.

 "Immortality robbed me of everything I wanted in life: a lifelong love, a family, to grow old with someone. Now I even have to avoid simple things, like attracting attention. When you're in any kind of spotlight, people want to know more about you, and I can't afford that kind of publicity. And then there's watching nearly everyone around you grow old and die. Knowing that you won't just outlive a few, that chances are you will outlive everyone you know. And above all, the Game overshadows everything you do." He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh as he gazed at her again. "And I know I'm not the easiest person to live with when I'm active in the Game." Guin stroked his cheek reassuringly as he continued. "I know there must be some purpose to all this, and I try to keep that in mind. But I wish I were mortal, the reincarnation several generations down of the Connor MacLeod I was born. It would have been more fair to you to have met that man instead." Guin raised an eyebrow at him, and he smiled wanly. "Hey, you're the one who believes in that, remember?"

 Guin shook her head. "I'm glad you're not that mortal man. You definitely wouldn't be the same person. We are a mix of our genes and our experiences. I wouldn't have been the same person without my experiences, bad and good. And neither would you. That includes your Immortality -- precisely because it shapes so much of your life. You wouldn't have all the steel walls around you without it, but you also wouldn't have your passion and conviction without it either."

 Connor frowned in thought, then shrugged. "I guess you're right. But it's hell convincing myself to let anyone into my life, because the loss is overwhelming. It's hard to remember to be human, when in a lot of ways I'm not. And it's painful to watch them die."

 "Perhaps death isn't an end, Connor. Maybe it's just the turning of a corner, a change in living. Or maybe you have some better insight on what happens after death?" Guin quirked an eyebrow at him.

 Connor shook his head. "After four and a half centuries, I still don't have a better grasp on that than anyone else. And as an Immortal, you don't want to think about really dying -- for good, that is. Having thoughts like that just puts you at risk to be beheaded, almost like wishing it into being. It cuts into your self-defenses, it's a weakness in your focus."

 "I hadn't thought about it that way."

 "And," he added, "there's the Quickening. When you feel it, it's like you're absorbing their life-power, and maybe their soul along with it. I don't want to think what might happen to my immortal soul if it left my Immortal body. Especially if the one who takes my head has a black heart himself."

 Guin shuddered. "So life and death really is a bigger issue for you." She frowned in concentration as she silently debated her next words. "But sometimes I think it'd be easier to let go of loved ones if they died than having to let go because they're leaving voluntarily. I've had enough dumping to last me a lifetime." Guin sighed.

 Connor's face shadowed over. "You're right -- it is more devastating to be intentionally left than to have your loved ones die."

 "Connor, I didn't mean to remind you..."

 "I know." He kissed her forehead. "You know, you haven't said much about the people in your past," he prompted gently.

 "What do you want to know?" she asked flatly.

 "What do you want to tell me?"

 Guin shrugged. "There's not much to tell, really. A lot of little flings in the more recent past -- some sexual, some not, some emotional, some not. Some men stopped calling me, some men I stopped calling." Guin let out a long sigh. "None of them were worth my time, really, looking back on it. They were just filling a need. And some of them frightened me because I was getting too wrapped up in them, so I dumped them." Guin entwined her fingers with his. "Like I almost did with you, the week after the picnic. Remember?" Connor nodded. "Thank God you didn't let me. Thank God for small miracles." She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed hers back. "What would I do without you..." Guin's voice cracked.

 "It's okay. I'm here." He pressed his lips against her forehead, pulling her closer.

 Guin smiled tightly. "I'm glad you're here." Taking a deep breath, she continued. "There was really only one serious boyfriend before that, he's the main reason I was so scared of getting close. The reason I'm still afraid." Guin swallowed hard. "His name was Mikhail -- Misha. I fell in love with him during college. We were pen pals, and we just hit it off so well right away. Our minds really met. It was great.

 "He was Russian, living in Moscow, doing translation and teaching English. He came to the States twice in the four years we knew each other, and both times he came out to visit me." Guin blushed. "Not that you really want to know this, but he was the person I gave my virginity to. I don't regret it, really -- it was a learning experience for me. Anyway, I thought he was 'The One,' and we were getting into heavy thoughts like marriage -- or at least I was. The second time he came out to visit, well, I guess I should have seen that there was a difference. I got out of college not too long after that, and was trying to find a way to get to Moscow, trying to get a job over there, but I wasn't qualified enough for most jobs and didn't have the money or the guts to just uproot myself and go. After the last time he came out to see me, we agreed that it was okay to see other people. Little did I know that was the death knell of our relationship. Bad move, but 20/20 hindsight, you know?

 "I met some okay people, but no one special. I guess I really wasn't looking for someone special, I thought I already had it. The same was not true for Misha, though he couldn't bring himself to just tell me. He kept dropping hints...saying I was too fragile to move there and survive in those harsh conditions, hinting that he'd found some new friends to hang around with, things like that. I ignored all the warning signs. I guess I just got too enthusiastic about going there, and he finally told me that there was another woman he was seeing, and he loved us both, but differently -- ha! what a load of crap! -- but she was already there and understood where he was at in his life, and she was Russian and understood him better in that way." Guin took another deep breath, avoiding Connor's eyes.

 "Can't say that I blame him. She was close, she was there for him. We corresponded well, but when he was here, I was emotionally unavailable. He even told me later that there was a lot he saw in my eyes, and yet I never talked to him about it. I just couldn't. I didn't know how. And I was afraid I'd drive him away, yet it happened anyway, because of my silence instead." Guin sighed heavily. "When I found out about this other relationship, though, I was totally devastated. The worst of the devastation was the fact that he had somebody already, but I was suddenly alone. He was happy, and I was terribly unhappy and suddenly very, very single. Even in more recent years, when I was certain I didn't want him back and came to the realization that I really wouldn't have been happy with him -- which is not just something I say to myself to feel better, it's true -- I was still jealous, because he was happy and I wasn't."

 "And what's happened to him since then?" Connor inquired gently.

 "He's in Moscow. She's his wife. She's having his baby. Better her than me." Guin gave a brief laugh. "Is it terrible of me to hope karma does a really good job taking care of him for hurting me? I'm often tempted to contact him just to let him know that I'm finally happy without him, although I don't really want to hear from him ever again. I don't really wish him bad, although sometimes I'd like to do something to try to make him hurt as much as I did. But I know in my heart that's not possible, and not really a good option to follow. Mostly I just want to put that relationship as far in my past as I can." Guin sniffled and sighed as she finished. "And I never, ever, ever want to have to tell that damned story again." She laughed, earnestly this time.

 "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you go through hell just for my curiosity." Connor cradled her against him.

 Guin shrugged. "You are the one person right now who deserves to be allowed to ask about that, and deserves to know. It's not like it's some deep, dark secret, it's just painful to talk about still. I guess I just feel like a total fool in that I should have known, I should have seen it coming. But I guess I was seeing what I wanted to see."

 "We all do that, sometimes," Connor reminded her.

 Guin nodded. "I think I really needed to share that. I know it was a lot to dump on you so suddenly, I'm sorry."

 "Don't be sorry. I did ask, after all. And it explains a lot."

 "Like what?"

 Connor shrugged. "Why you need so much reassurance. And why you're skittish about commitment."

 "I'm bad when it comes to reassurance, aren't I?" Guin shook her head. "I don't know why anyone in their right mind would put up with that."

 "We all need to be reassured sometime," Connor responded gently. "And it lets me give you something important...to make up for everything I can't give you."

 Guin furrowed her brow as she looked up at him. "Like what?"

 "Children. Someone to grow old with. Someone who doesn't cut off people's heads to survive..."

 "Connor, it's not like you're a vampire, you don't attack just anyone. You don't go hunting for victims. You do what you have to do to keep your life. Anyone else would do the same. As for children, there are options if I want them. And growing old...we'll deal with that as it comes. Okay?" She stroked his cheek. "You mean the world to me, Connor. I'd do anything to make you happy."

 Unable to find words for a response, Connor gave her a tender kiss. After a moment of mutual smiles, eyes locked, Connor gently pushed aside the collar of Guin's nightshirt and kissed her collarbone. "Feeling too old for a little lovemaking, birthday girl?" he asked mischievously.

 "If you're not, I'm not, you old geezer," she responded with a laugh. Connor began to tickle her relentlessly. "All right, all right, I take it back!" she squealed through her giggles.

 Connor laughed as he fumbled for the buttons on her shirt. "I'll show you what my old age has taught me," he said with a wicked smile.

 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 Guin shuddered as the thunder cracked overhead, her reaction attributable to more than just the eerie sound. Two days after her birthday, Connor had run into a hostile Immortal in town. The presence of mortals had prevented them from battling at the time, and they had agreed upon this night -- three days later -- to fight. Connor had gone into battle mode since the initial run-in, focused and emotionless, withdrawing from Guin and John, even disappearing for the first couple of days -- only to come back with a bad attitude from hell, which had only gotten marginally better since then. He had also steadfastly refused to reveal anything to them about his opponent, lest it put them in danger.

 Fortunately or unfortunately, Guin had seen this before: Connor had been challenged once already since his fight with Fenster in their front yard only a month before. With that challenge, Connor had at first been overly protective of Guin and John, then abandoned them completely to Ceirdwyn's care when his paranoia over their safety nearly drove him over the edge. At the time, Ceirdwyn was the one named as John's legal guardian should anything happen to Andrew Beaton, and she had been patient enough to review all the necessary paperwork with Guin -- all the while reassuring the mortal woman that she'd never need it. And that time, Ceirdwyn had been right -- Connor had come home sweaty and tired, but very much alive.

 Guin hoped that this time would be no different. She watched Connor zip his leather bomber jacket over his white shirt and jeans and slide his katana into its sheath.

 "You know where the paperwork is." It wasn't a question, but Guin nodded in acknowledgment. Connor glanced up at her face, noting the worry she was attempting to hide. He winked. "I'll be back."

 "Of course you will," she responded, more confidently than she felt.

 Connor opened the door, and Guin shivered in the cold, wet blast as another roll of thunder echoed overhead. "Don't wait up for me. Get some sleep."

 "I will," Guin lied, offering a smile she didn't feel. If this was going to be routine in their lives, she wanted to do this reassurance thing right the first time. Otherwise she might not get a second chance. Connor couldn't let anything distract him while he was fighting, and she didn't want her worry to cloud his mind.

 Guin watched Connor walk out the door and close it behind him. She could hear his footsteps trail down to the paved drive, and she silently listened to the tell-tale sounds: the door of the Range Rover slamming shut, the engine turning over, the hum of the motor fading as Connor headed to his destination. Only then did Guin allow herself to huddle on the sofa and sob uncontrollably, unsuccessfully trying to block out the images of Connor and Fenster's fight that came floating into her mind, along with the vivid memory of her terror as she had watched that battle. A full half hour crept by as Guin desperately tried to rock the pain and fear away. "Connor, you'd better damned well come back," she whispered fiercely as her sobs finally began to wane. "I don't know what I'd do with myself if you didn't." Guin's attention was caught by the slamming of a door upstairs. Guinnie, sweetie, you're not the only one who's freaked out by all this, she admonished herself. It's about time you thought about someone besides yourself. You have to be the adult here. Guin steeled her will against her own emotions as she finally lifted herself to her feet and went upstairs.

 Guin knocked gently on John's door and opened it a crack. "How ya doin', kiddo?" she asked gently.

 "Okay," came the unenthusiastic answer.

 "You sure?"

 "I'm sure, Guin." She heard John laugh bitterly. "I've been through this enough times. But thanks."

 "If you need anything, you know where I am, hon," Guin responded softly. "Don't hesitate to come bother me."

 "Yeah."

 Guin closed the door and moved forward to the bedroom she shared with Connor. She changed into her nightgown, curled up on her side of the bed and tried to ignore the vast, empty expanse on the other side.

 Guin was startled into wakefulness by the slam of the front door downstairs. Shaking with the fear that it might not be who she hoped it was, Guin tiptoed to the bedroom door and opened it a crack, peering into the dark walkway. A figure trudged up the stairs, wearily pulling himself along the banister. Guin exhaled a long, relieved breath as she recognized the shadowy silhouette. Connor was shedding his leather bomber jacket as he approached, lugging his sheathed katana as if it weighed a ton.

 Guin stepped out of their room and gingerly took the sword from him. Only then did she notice the bloodied slash marks across his shirt. Guess this Immortal was more of a challenge than Connor expected, she thought solemnly, scanning the rest of Connor's filthy form.

 "I know, I'm a mess," he said quietly.

 "Let's get you a shower and into bed," she replied softly, leading him into their room. Connor didn't argue, stripping off his grimy clothes as he headed for the bathroom. "Need any help?" she asked him. Connor shook his head. "I'll let John know you're home, then."

 For the second time that night, Guin knocked on John's door and opened it an inch. "John?"

 "Good news?" came the immediate, un-sleepy reply.

 "Yep. Dad's home." John's sigh of relief was audible. "Do you want to see him?"

 "I'll see him in the morning. But thanks for letting me know."

 "You can go to sleep now." Guin smiled to herself.

 John laughed. "It's that obvious, huh?"

 "Yeah, it is to me, anyway. Goodnight, John."

 "'Night, Guin."

 Guin quickly walked back to her room, which was a bit warmer thanks to Connor's hot shower in progress. A few minutes later, Connor came out rubbing his hair dry, and sat on the edge of the bed in nothing but his boxers. "Aren't you cold?" she asked him.

 "Not after that shower." Finishing with the towel, Connor wearily turned his gaze from it to the bathroom door. Guin took the towel from him and tossed it in the hamper just inside the doorway. She returned with the portable hair dryer and blew his hair dry as his eyes closed and shoulders slumped forward in exhaustion.

 Putting the dryer aside, Guin threw back the covers on the bed. "In," she commanded. Too tired to argue -- particularly against something he wanted anyway -- Connor obeyed, stretching out with a sore groan as Guin climbed in next to him and tucked the covers up over them both. Guin stroked his forehead gently, watching his eyes flicker underneath their closed lids. "Relax," she said quietly, running her fingers through his hair.

 "Come here," Connor's dry throat cracked his voice. Guin scooted closer, and Connor wrapped his arms around her tightly. "Miss me?" he asked her.

 Guin laughed. "No, not at all. Didn't even notice you were gone."

 Connor smiled faintly. "Very funny."

 "Well, then don't ask questions you know the answer to, dear." Guin pressed her lips against the top of Connor's head as he sighed deeply and settled his head against her chest. "Welcome back, love."

 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 By Saturday Connor had nearly returned to his usual self, and was catching up with business in his home office. Guin had offered to do some data entry for him while he dealt with some of the more complicated paperwork.

 Connor tossed his pencil onto the desk in frustration. "Let me get on the computer a minute, would you?"

 Guin nodded as she saved her work and lifted herself out of the chair. "That bad, huh?"

 "Isn't it always?" he replied wearily, taking her place at the keyboard and opening the spreadsheet program.

 Guin caught the sound of the mail carrier's truck, and raced out the door and down the steps to greet him. She was disappointed when he only handed her a stack of envelopes. "Waiting for something, are ye?" he asked with a gentle smile.

 "Yeah. A package. Gotta make sure he doesn't see what's inside it before Christmas."

 "Christmas, eh? Well, it's good to see someone's made plans. Good day to ye, miss."

 Guin rifled through the envelopes as she climbed back up the steps, stopping when she came to one with a return address that began "Alex Johnson-Weaver." It was a small envelope, but felt heavier than normal weight writing paper would give it. Hmmm, she thought warily, narrowing her eyes at the little pink envelope. Wonder what Connor's ex wants with him. Guin walked directly into his office, where Connor was pacing slowly behind the desk, deep in thought. Guin handed him the letters, with the one from Alex on top. Connor set the rest of the mail aside as he opened this envelope cautiously. He pulled out a small card, read the contents swiftly, then tossed the card abruptly on the desk, where it landed with a dull smack. Connor turned and walked over to the casement window, leaning his arm high against the framework as he looked outside.

 Guin gingerly picked up the card to read it. It was an announcement of Alex's pregnancy, and an invitation to her baby shower in London in two weeks. "That's rather rude," Guin commented, setting the card back on the desk.

 "I suppose she's just trying to share her happiness," Connor responded evenly, not taking his gaze from the window. Guin could see his hand twitching, a sure sign that he was not happy. She walked over to where he was standing and put her arms around him. Connor gently stroked her back in return. "You're never going to have that, you know. Not as long as you're with me." His voice was tinged with sadness.

 "I know," she said, laying her head against his shoulder. "I don't care."

 "You might, someday." Connor cleared his throat.

 Guin looked up at him, but his eyes were still focused on nothing, staring toward the window. "Connor, if I get that desperate, there's adoption, or there's artificial insemination and sperm donors. Besides, I don't even know if I'd make a good mother. Sometimes I really doubt it. So don't fret over what I might or might not want at some point in the future." She touched his cheek, and he looked down at her. "From what I see from John, you're a good dad. Just because he's not biologically yours doesn't mean he's not your son. You've done good by him. Eventually, we can decide what we want, in terms of children. For now, I just want you." Connor pulled her close, closing his eyes as he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

 "You know just what to say, don't you?" he asked quietly.

 "I try." She closed her eyes, leaning into his warm embrace. "I love you, Connor. And this is no different than if I had met some mortal man who couldn't have children. It's not the end of the world."

 "No, not apocalyptic, but..."

 "Don't, Connor. Don't fret over what can never be. Try looking at it from a different angle...there are endless possibilities, if only you'd look for them, instead of seeing the same dead ends that you've been seeing for the past four-and-a-half centuries."

 Connor laughed. "The philosophy queen strikes again."

 "I'm serious, Connor," she said emphatically, pulling away to look into his face. "This looms in your mind like a monster, and it's not. It's a gift. Didn't you say Ramirez told you that?"

 "He also told me not to get involved with mortal women." Connor raised an eyebrow at her mockingly.

 "Okay, so he was only right half the time." Guin grinned. "But still...there are a lot of possibilities out there, for you, for us. Don't miss out on them because you're stuck in your rut. It's like you're afraid to live sometimes."

 "Hmph...Brenda said that too." Connor smiled sadly.

 "Well she was right," Guin responded, "and if you hadn't decided to live then, you would have missed out on that time with her, even if it was cut short. Will you give me that same chance?"

 Connor closed his eyes again and nodded. "I owe you that much."

 "You don't owe me anything, Connor. You owe it to yourself." Guin frowned as she felt something brush against her legs. She squealed and jumped back as she realized it was their cat Mandy -- with a present. "Oh, gross!" She wrinkled her nose, watching the blood drip from the headless mouse Mandy was carrying. "What, is she trying to get a kitty quickening? Wants to be like dad?"

 Connor laughed as he knelt down next to the cat. She dropped the mouse at his feet and rubbed against his legs, purring. "A kitty quickening, hmm? Nah. I just think the skulls are too crunchy for her liking, and she wouldn't offer us anything she didn't like herself."

 "Eeew, did you have to say that? Now I'm really going to puke." Guin put her hand over her mouth and turned her face away.

 "I'll clean it up. Hand me Alex's announcement, I'll use it to scoop up the body..."

 "Be nice, Connor," Guin frowned mockingly at him. "You don't want karma to knock you on your butt because of that. Here's a file folder, put it to use." Guin handed him the manila folder and walked out of the room, still shuddering.

 The sound of the doorbell stopped Guin before she got very far. When she opened the door, she was astonished to see a very uptight Ceirdwyn wringing her hands. "Ceirdwyn, are you all right?" Guin asked, ushering the woman inside.

 "Not really," Ceirdwyn confessed. "I have a question for you and Connor," she added, waving at someone behind Guin. Guin turned to see Connor walking into the kitchen with the wastebasket in hand. They heard the back door open, then close, and Connor soon reappeared.

 "What's wrong, Ceirdwyn?" Connor scanned the woman's drawn face. "You look like hell."

 "Well, I feel like hell," she responded. "I can't stay too long, but I wanted to come by to ask if you could take care of my puppies for a couple of days."

 "Again?" Connor raised an eyebrow. "Whose funeral are you attending this time?"

 "Jamie Morgan. I got to know him pretty well when I was in Wales a couple of summers ago. He died in a car crash yesterday." Ceirdwyn sighed. "But that's three, maybe that'll be the end."

 "Three?" Guin inquired curiously.

 "Bad things come in threes," Connor explained.

 "Most things come in threes," Ceirdwyn corrected. "You just tend to notice them more when they're bad. Especially deaths." She looked up at Connor with pleading eyes. "You know Jason had plans this weekend, and I don't know anyone else reliable enough. You don't have to keep them here, just go in and feed them and make sure they're okay. Please, Connor, I don't have anyone else to turn to..."

 "Of course, Ceirdwyn, of course. The dogs are welcome here." He winked at Guin. "It'll keep Mandy from bringing in more gifts."

 Ceirdwyn furrowed her brow. "Gifts?" she asked hesitantly. Connor explained what had occurred only a few minutes before, and Ceirdwyn burst into laughter. "That cat's adopted you in more ways than one!" she teased. "Thanks, I needed the laugh. Can I drop the pups off early tomorrow morning then?"

 "That's okay by me." Connor patted Ceirdwyn's shoulder. "Take care of yourself, and have a safe trip."

 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 Connor stepped out of the Porsche and swung himself jauntily up the steps. It had been a good Thursday. Three expensive, one-of-a-kind pieces had sold, practically a record. Even better, however, was Thomas, the young Immortal who had wandered into the shop. He was in town on a trip from Inverness, and totally unaware of what he was -- only knowing that he had supposedly "died," but came back to life somehow, and that it was being hailed as a miracle. Thomas was tired of the publicity that was coming at him every time he turned around, and was thinking of moving. Connor had invited him into the office after Thomas was hit by a raging "headache" when he entered the store, and after some questioning, Connor finally informed him of what he was, and offered to be his teacher. It's been a long time since I've had a student of my own, Connor thought as he put his key in the lock, and this one has a lot of potential.

 The key turned easily, and Connor realized that the bolt was not in its place. No one leaves the front door unlocked, and Guin's car isn't here, he thought uneasily, slipping the katana out of his coat as he rotated the doorknob. Connor slowly walked in, turning at every noise, waiting for the Immortal buzz to hit him. "John?" he called out as he shrugged out of his coat and dropped it on the floor near the kitchen door. "Guin?" Oh God, he thought, what if?... Connor shook the idea out of his head as he made his way up the stairs. There was still no sign of another Immortal, but Connor kept his guard up. The first door he came to was Guin's room. Peering in, he was surprised to see her sitting at her desk, all the lights off, her tear-stained face lit only by the glare of the computer monitor. Cautiously he entered. "Guin, are you okay?" She shook her head. Connor walked over to her, sword forgotten in his hand. "What happened? Where's your car?"

 "My car's at work. Giles drove me home." She gestured to the monitor. "Wyn called me at work to tell me...I didn't quite believe her til I saw it myself..." Guin's voice trailed off as fresh tears streamed down her face.

 Connor set his katana down on the desk and began to read the e-mail over her shoulder. The sender's address was familiar to him; he'd seen Guin send mail to Sabrina and Jim before, a couple she counted among her dearest friends. Sabrina had been diagnosed with breast cancer some time before, but it had gone into remission, or so everyone thought. From this e-mail, it appeared that they had been wrong: the cancer had aggressively spread, and she had passed away early this morning. Connor knelt next to the chair and put his arms around Guin. "I'm sorry."

 Guin brushed the tears from her jawline. "Giles suggested I take the time off to go back for the funeral -- and since work has slowed down a bit, to take a couple of weeks so I can visit my family too." She shook her head. "I want to go, and I don't. On the one hand, I need the closure, and I wouldn't be a very good friend if I didn't go. On the other hand, I hate funerals...the overwhelming grief...and then not even knowing who my friends are anymore, when so many of them abused my good will or rejected me after I won the lottery. And on top of everything, having to face all this alone...that's the scariest thing."

 "No one said you had to face this alone," Connor said softly. "I'll go with you, if you want."

 Guin looked at him, then shook her head again. "I can't ask you to do that..."

 "You didn't ask, I offered," he countered. "Besides, this might be a good opportunity for you to introduce me to your family." Connor paused as Guin wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Or not."

 Despite her tears, Guin chuckled. "That face wasn't aimed at you, Connor." She turned more sober. "It was at the thought of seeing my family again. As if the funeral won't be tough enough to deal with."

 "Would it be better if I didn't go?"

 Guin shook her head. "They'd still be questioning me about you. They might even question me less if you went, because they can actually meet you and get to know you." She laughed sourly. "Or should I say interrogate you, like they've done with the other men I've brought home. Or maybe they'll just give you their silent-but- deadly disapproval, like they did with me when I chose to change my name, and when I chose to move to Scotland, and when I chose to move in with you." Guin searched his face. "Do you really want to put yourself through that?" she asked.

 "Anything for you," he responded, smiling gently.

 "What about John? Don't suppose we can take him with us."

 Connor frowned. "No, he shouldn't miss that much school. I'm sure we can make arrangements -- I can always ask Ceirdwyn, or Pete's parents. We'll figure this out, I won't abandon you to the wolves." He touched her cheek gently. "So when's the funeral? I'll make the flight plans and hotel arrangements."

 "Next Wednesday." Guin reached over to hold his hand. "Thank you."

 "For what?"

 "Just for being there when I need you."

They both heard the door slam downstairs. "John," they said in unison.

 "Go to him," Guin urged, tears forming in her eyes. "Love him while he's here, and while he's still likely to appreciate your attention. You never know when the opportunity is going to slip through your fingers." She smiled crookedly. "I'm a bit of a hypocrite, aren't I? The one from the family of stoic silences telling you to express yourself."

 "But because of that, you know the true value of caring words," Connor responded softly.

 "Maybe so," she said, "maybe so." She smiled tightly. "Go tell John you love him, Connor. Make sure he knows."

 Connor nodded, moving to stand. Guin stopped him and caressed his cheek. "I love you," she choked, beginning to cry again, then smiling at his look of concern. "I'll be okay. I just need a little more time to cry over Sabrina now. Go." Connor kissed the top of her head and gave her shoulder a fond squeeze before reluctantly leaving her to her tears.