Pick a fic Guin's Highlands Home Fanfic Home Fighting Monsters (new) The Connor Continuum Thicker Than Water The First Time Bad Dreams Words On Connor & Duncan Connor's Birthday Tribute Reunion In Sickness & In Health Fatherhood Grief The Quackening Reflections on a Life A Few Thoughts on Connor Connor's Thought Processes Sanctuary Youth Is Contagious Christmas Wish Little Surprises Connor, This Is Your Life! Mind Your Ps and Qs The Letter Cityscape

Disclaimer: The characters of Connor MacLeod et al and the Highlander premise belong to Davis/Panzer Productions.  I have only borrowed them for a time, and hopefully return them none the worse for wear.

Connor poured himself a cup of freshly brewed coffee and sat down at the table to wait.  He'd picked up a few simple items on the way to the barge from the airport, knowing Duncan would hardly feel like eating after his arrival in Paris, much less shopping and cooking.  Grief always did that to you.  Connor had warned that boy long ago not to get too close to a mortal, because it always caused you pain in the end.  But just as Connor himself had done with Ramirez, Duncan had ignored Connor's warning.  Repeatedly  And here he was paying for it once again.

Connor deeply inhaled the fragrant scent of the rich black coffee, then sighed.  It wasn't as if Connor could rub it in and say “I told you so.”  It hadn't been that long since Duncan had stood by Connor's side at Brenda's funeral, in much the same way Connor would stand by Duncan at Tessa's grave tomorrow.  Like Tessa, Brenda had died tragically, too early.  But mortals always died too early, even from natural causes.  Brenda had managed to squirm through the 400-year-old fortress wall guarding Connor against relationships, and every now and then that mindset surfaced and he actually regretted getting involved with her.  But mostly he just missed her.  Connor didn't know what he could say or do to make coping easier for his kinsman -- just as he hadn't when Little Deer had been killed a hundred years ago -- but he was here.  He hoped it was enough.

The extended buzz signaled the approach of more than one Immortal.  Connor puzzled for a moment.  Ah yes, the boy.  Duncan had promised to keep an eye on him, had taken him in.  Now this boy -- Richie, wasn't it? -- was an Immortal too.  And he'd have to grow up pretty quickly.  Connor felt a twinge of sympathy; he'd been there himself, once.  Young and stupid and suddenly undamageable.  At least this one had some knowledge of what he was, what he had in store for him.  It was a good start.

Connor looked up as the door opened, then stood as Duncan and Richie trudged in with their suitcases.  Duncan's face showed no emotion -- hiding, Connor well knew, all the turbulence inside.  Connor nodded in greeting to Richie, who gave a silent wave in reply.  Duncan put his suitcase down as he stood before Connor.

“Connor.”  Duncan gave a slight nod, connecting eyes with his clansman.

“Duncan.”  The pair locked gazes for a long moment, then pulled one another into a brotherly embrace.  When they finally broke away, both had tears in their eyes.

“You'll live,” Connor said quietly, clasping Duncan's shoulder.

“I know.”  Duncan broke eye contact.  “I know you want to say ‘I told you so’...”

“No,” Connor interrupted.  “Not today.”

Duncan glanced at Connor, then gave a deep, unsettled sigh as he sat down at the table.  Connor silently signaled for Richie to make himself comfortable, retrieved a cup of coffee for Duncan, then sat back and watched his kinsman over the rim of his own cup.  There was nothing else to say, nothing else Connor could do but let Duncan grieve.  All he could do was be there if or when Duncan needed him.  After all, that's what family was for.