Work for Guin had been hell on wheels this week, and as usual, Friday had been even more hectic in hopes that it would avert a Saturday work session.  Also as usual, that attempt had failed.  Guin was ready to burst into tears by the time she walked through the door, and she prayed fervently for Rebecca's calming presence.  Much to Guin's disappointment, the house was empty.  Her mind searched for all the ways she knew of to comfort herself, finally settling on the sofa and cuddling her teddy bear.

I'd rather be holding Connor than the bear he gave me, Guin thought sadly.  She gave a brief laugh.  The bear can't talk...you'd think that'd be a good thing, but it's not.  Oh, Connor, how I miss you...the long nights talking in bed, hour upon hour of conversation about anything and nothing...the way your voice reverberates in your chest when I lay my head against you...your vast array of stories from times gone by, and how you know just when to tell me one that will make me laugh, or to hit me with something more serious, or poignant.  Guin released a deep sigh.  I'd rather be listening to Connor talk than hearing this silence...I'd give anything to hear his voice right now, but then I'd have to talk to him, and I just can't do that.  I'd end up giving myself away, he'd figure out I don't really want to leave, and then he'd badger me to come back.  And it's not the right choice for either of us.

Suddenly an idea struck her.  The antique store! she thought gleefully, picking up the handset.  I can hear his voice on the answering machine, and he'll never even know I called.  Guin eagerly dialed the number.
 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
The phone rang once, then again.  It's either more business, or it's D'Angelo, Connor thought as he re-seated himself at his desk.  Might as well go ahead and answer it.  He picked up the receiver.  "Hello?"  There was no response.  "Hello?" he repeated, looking down at the caller identification display.  A few weeks earlier, the number there would have been totally unfamiliar to him -- but he now recognized Rebecca's number, though he hadn't had a reason to use it yet.  Just as he was about to say Guin's name, the phone clicked, soon followed by the dial tone.  Fine, he fumed, play avoidance games by calling to leaving messages on my machines.  If that's how you want it, then to hell with you.  Connor abruptly set the handset down and returned to his work.
 
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
Startled by the very live, very real voice on the other end of the line, Guin hung up, shaking.  She sunk back on the sofa and began to cry, covering her face with her hands.

"Guin, what's wrong?" Rebecca asked with great concern as she walked through the door.  Putting down her briefcase, she joined Guin on the sofa.

"It's just stress," Guin sniffled.  "I'll be fine."

"If it's getting to you that badly, you should take a few days off," Rebecca scolded.

"I can't do that.  Work's the only thing that keeps me sane."

"Hmm...so much stress that you cry, but it's the only thing that keeps you sane." Rebecca cocked an eyebrow at her friend.  "Guin, I know it's none of my business, but does this little crying jag have something to do with Connor?"

"You're right, it's none of your business."  Guin straightened herself up and wiped the remaining tears from her face.

"Don't get defensive on me, I'm only trying to help." Rebecca looked at her squarely.  "But it is about him, isn't it?  I think you should talk to him, try to work things out..."

"There's nothing to work out," Guin replied flatly.  "I've caused him enough grief."

Rebecca gave her a disproving look, but shrugged.  "Suit yourself," she said with a sigh.  "I think you should talk to him, but what do I know, right?  I'm just a professional counselor."

"Don't throw that in my face," Guin retorted angrily.

"Why not?" Rebecca answered.  "Because it might mean I'm right?  Guin, for God's sake, I've been with you through all this stress from work, before and after you decided to leave Connor for a while -- which I didn't really approve of, if you'll recall.  And it's pretty obvious to me that your mental health was much better when you were with him."

"That has no relevance when my stress just ended up making him miserable," Guin replied with a frown.

"If that was a problem, and you aren't willing to work it out now, then what happens when you move back in?"  Rebecca's eyes widened as she watched Guin turn a shade of red.  "You're not going back, are you?"

Guin shook her head.  "How can I?" she answered, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks again.  "The stress is not going to end..."

"And you're going to have a nervous breakdown from all of this," Rebecca asserted.  "You need to talk to him, Guin.  If nothing else, then to break it off, though I wish you'd reconsider making such a brash move."

"I can't talk to him, no matter how much I want to.  He'd never listen to me now, not after all I've done to him."  Guin shrugged.  "He's better off without me anyway.  I'll call him, but just to arrange a time to get my stuff out of his house."

Rebecca sighed.  "You know you're welcome to stay here as long as you need to until you find a place of your own."

"Thanks."  Guin finished wiping the tears from her face.

"Let's get some dinner," Rebecca suggested.  "I think we could both use a good meal."
 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
The sun blazed through the late Saturday afternoon, in contrast to the light snowfall of the evening before.  John had accompanied his father into the snowy hills to Heather's grave, but had opted to stay with the Range Rover rather than follow Connor to the actual gravesite.  Connor was grateful for the solitude, though, since it meant he could speak freely and openly to Heather -- even if she could never answer him back.  Connor knelt by the grave marker and let out a long breath.

"Well, Blossom, I've managed to ruin my life again," Connor began.  "As if you didn't know.  I've got an Immortal seeking my head out of vengeance...and if it weren't for John, I might just let him have it."  Connor sighed.  "You know, when Brenda died, I wanted to make order of all the chaos, and to make as much right in the world as I could.  I divided the world into black and white, even though I knew very well it wasn't -- and only re-learned too late that it wasn't that way.  And now, in a sort of backward fashion, it's coming back to haunt me."

Connor shook his head.  "And now another good woman has been driven away from me.  Guin left me...it's been two weeks now.  I'm glad you never saw more than the Kurgan and Ramirez, though I sometimes wish you hadn't seen them either.  But at least you didn't see enough to make you leave."  Connor took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"I really tried to make Guin happy, you know?" Connor said sadly.  "She wanted me to be honest with her, and I was.  And I ruined everything by not protecting her from the truth."  Connor breathed out a deep, heartfelt sigh.  "Duncan finds love for twelve, fourteen years at a time -- only a heartbeat for our kind, but still long enough.  But these days I can't hold on to it for more than a few months, maybe a year or two if I'm lucky.  It's not fair."  Connor turned his face to the sky.  "This is Your fault, You know," he said accusingly to the heavens.  "You tossed her into my life, set her in just the right place for my heart to reach out and grab her, when all along You knew she'd leave me."  Connor stood up and dusted his hands.  "If You bring her back to me, I'll do anything I have to in order to keep her happy.  I'll get married, settle down..."  He swallowed hard.  "I'll find a way to give us children and to grow old with her."  Connor squeezed his eyes tightly shut and bowed his head.  "God, I love her.  Help me.  Please."  After a moment, Connor opened his eyes again and let out another long sigh.  "What am I doing?" he muttered irritably.  "For all I know, there's nothing but chaos out there, no order to the universe at all, and I'm standing here wishing everything would all be made right again."  Connor shook his head.  "Good night, my bonny Heather.  Do me a favor and watch over Guin, would you?"  Connor turned away from the grave, his heart sinking like the sun beginning to set over the western hills.
 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
Guin slowly traveled up the snowy drive toward Connor's house.  She wasn't looking forward to seeing Connor, but there were a few things she'd left behind that she now needed for work.  Guin could only hope that Connor would be too preoccupied to harass her.  To her surprise, the Range Rover was gone, and there were no lights showing in the house.  Guin walked up to the door and unlocked it with her key.  "Hello?" she called out, but received no answer.  Couldn't have asked for better, she thought, walking up the stairs toward her room.  Guin shook her head sadly as she entered and flipped on the lights.  The room seemed much emptier than when she had left, even though physically it hadn't changed much -- the only major item she had removed was her computer.  Her heart aching, Guin pulled out boxes and began to pack her things away, knowing she'd have to come remove them from the house soon.  Quickly collecting the papers and books she needed for work, Guin brought them down to the Volvo, careful to lock the door behind her.  She was about to get into the vehicle herself when she had the urge to go back and check on the horses, and she followed her instinct to the stables.

"Hello, Henry!" she called to the groom, who was brushing out Dusty's mane.

"Hello, Ms. Barnes.  Haven't seen you around much lately."

Guin blushed slightly.  "I haven't been around much lately."  She held out her hand to Dusty, then stroked his nose.  "You're such a pretty baby, yes you are," she cooed.

"The beasties love you," Henry remarked with a smile.

"I love animals.  Maybe they pick up on that."  Guin continued to pet the horse's sleek coat.  "You know, I've never asked you, Henry...and please, tell me if it's none of my business, because it's a sort of private question...but what do you do when you're not here?"

"As a profession?" Henry asked.  Guin nodded in response.  "For as little work as I do here, Mr. Beaton pays me handsomely.  I was working three jobs when I started here.  Then one day Mr. Beaton and I were talking.  I told him I was an aspiring writer, but that I hardly had any time to write, working so much."  Henry shrugged.  "I didn't think much of it at the time, but he had me bring in some samples of my work, and then he offered me the money he pays me now.  It's enough to eat and pay for my necessities, as well as put a bit away, and gives me time to write.  I know he pays me far too much for the work I do here, but he wouldn't let me turn him down."

Guin stared at Henry in amazement, her brows raised.  "I didn't know that.  He obviously cares about you a lot."

"He cares about people a lot," Henry corrected.  "And their dreams.  Pardon me if I'm overstepping my bounds to say so, but I think it's because he has a lot of unfulfilled dreams himself, and he wants others to have the chance at their dreams."

Guin nodded.  "I think you're probably right about that."  She gave Dusty a last pat, then went to visit her own horse for a moment before heading back toward the stable door.  "I should be going," she said to Henry.  "It was good talking to you."

"Always good to see you, Ms. Barnes," he replied, going back to his work.  Guin closed the stable door behind her and walked out to her car, lost in thought.

Connor is a generous soul, now that I think about it, Guin mused, getting into the car and turning the ignition.  He's given a lot of himself to his students -- Jax, Duncan, Jason, Thomas.  And he helped out Ceirdwyn both when she arrived here and by offering her a place in New York.  Guin's memories kicked in as she pulled down the drive.  He did ask me what I'd do if I could do anything I wanted, though I didn't know at the time.  Wonder what he would have done if I'd had some grand plan?  Guin shook her head.  As if he wasn't generous enough with me, writing me into his will, showering me with gifts and picnics and love.  And all I did was turn into a righteous bitch.  No wonder he hasn't fought too hard to win me back -- I certainly wasn't deserving of such a generous man.  Guin wiped away a tear as she started down the main road toward Rebecca's home.
 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
Guin had hemmed and hawed for days about calling Connor, but it was Tuesday already, and a week had gone by since she'd last talked to him.  She knew she had to do this.  Guin half hoped and half dreaded that he might still ask her to come back; something in her wanted the chance, even though she knew it wasn't in anyone's best interest.  Gathering up her nerve, Guin dialed the antique store.

"Beaton antiques," came the familiar response.

"Uh, hi, Connor," she forced herself to say.

There was a brief pause before he responded.  "Hello, Ms. Barnes."  Connor paused another beat, then added, "you actually decided to call when you expected me to be here this time."

"Huh?"

"Unlike the other night when you hung up on me," he continued coldly.

"What makes you think I called you?" she asked, both suspicious and afraid.

"The display panel showed Rebecca's number.  You forgot I had caller identification, didn't you?"  Connor gave an angry snort.  "I don't appreciate your avoidance games."

Guin was glad he couldn't see how deeply she was blushing.  "But I called then because..."

"Forget it.  I don't want your excuses.  So why have you called this time?"

Connor's brusque tone confirmed it: there would be no invitation to come home.  Guin sighed inwardly.  "I called to find out when I could come pack up the rest of my things.  I might actually have some breaks at work this week, and I was going to use those to do it."

"Whenever you want.  I won't be there at all during the day for the rest of this week.  You still have your keys?"

"Yes."

"I'll be expecting those back."

"Yes, of course."  Guin bit her lip.  He really does want me to leave.  Well, I've made my bed, I'll just have to lie in it.

"I have to go," Connor interrupted her thoughts.  "Business calls.  Let me know if you need any help moving."  He abruptly hung up, leaving Guin listening to the clicking, then the dial tone.  She put down the receiver and swallowed hard.

"Someday you'll understand," she whispered to her empty office.  "And someday you'll forgive me for leaving, Connor."
 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
Connor sat down in his home office that evening with his fourth -- no, fifth -- glass of Glenmorangie.  Hell, why I am bothering to count? he thought in irritation.  It really doesn't matter.  Guin's call earlier that day had come at a bad time -- right after D'Angelo had called to give him the location of their fight tomorrow night: Glenfinnan, at the monument.  Both calls had upset him, but he was beginning to regret being so cold to Guin.  Maybe if I'd been nicer, she would have asked to come back, he thought.  Nah, who am I fooling?  She doesn't want to come back, or she would have asked no matter what I said.  Connor sighed.  And after tomorrow night, she might be coming back anyway -- to take care of John after I'm gone.  Lost in such morbid thoughts, Connor had shut himself away in his office and avoided the phone all evening, unwilling to connect with anyone.

Connor picked up the book he'd been reading, then put it back down again.  Throughout time, people have used books opened at random for guidance, he mused.  Wonder if it really works.

Connor selected a book at random from his shelf -- which just happened to be one Guin had left behind -- and opened it, blindly putting his finger down on the page.  "There are some things worse than death," the passage under his finger read, "and losing the love of your life is one of them."  Connor angrily slammed the book shut and tossed back the last of his whisky.

"Enough," he said aloud, forcefully throwing the book across the room.  It bounced noisily against a cabinet and thudded to the floor.  "No more memories.  No more of this crap."

"Dad?"  John peered around the doorway.

"What?" Connor answered roughly, staring into his glass.

"Uh, never mind, it can wait," John quietly responded, beginning to retreat from the room.

"Wait, John," Connor called out more gently.  "What is it?"

"Umm, Guin called.  She's going to come by during the week and pack, but she wanted to know if it was okay if she came by on Saturday to pick her stuff up, so she can get someone to help her move it."  John paused.  "I told her it was okay," he added guiltily.

Connor closed his eyes and nodded.  "It's fine."

"She's really leaving, isn't she?" John asked.

Connor nodded again, his eyes distant as he reopened them.  "But her ghost will stay here for a long time."

"You're thinking of moving again, aren't you?" John said quietly.  "Just like you wanted to after Alex left."

I have to survive tomorrow night first,  Connor thought bitterly.  He gazed at his son, but his eyes were still distant.  "You've got a lot of friends here, don't you?" he asked.  John nodded.  "Then we won't be moving anytime soon.  I'll learn to live with her ghost."  For as long as I'm still alive, he somberly added to himself.  Connor put his glass down and stood up.  "Time for bed."

"Are you sleeping in one of the guest rooms again?" John inquired, giving his father a scrutinizing look.

Connor laughed gently.  "I'm getting really predictable in my old age, hmm?"  He clasped his son on the shoulder.  "I'm just having trouble sleeping in my room by myself right now.  Things will eventually return to normal."  As long as I can live through this fight, he added to himself.  And if I can put this pain behind me, like I've done so many times before.
 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
"Hi Guin." Giles leaned on the doorframe of her office.  "You're awfully early this bright Wednesday morning.  How are you?"

Guin shrugged.  "Surviving.  I take it the promotion nazis haven't shown up yet, or you wouldn't be so social."

"You shouldn't say things about them, Guin," he admonished gently.  "They could do a great deal for you."

"Like what?  I'll get shoved up into middle management where there's no room for me until somebody leaves.  That might end up getting just a little cramped for my tastes."  Guin sighed heavily and leaned back in her chair.  "All this to keep my freaking visa.  You sure I can't just turn down this promotion?"

"Honestly, that's probably not a good idea," Giles replied.  "And the reviewers are only trying to judge you fairly, you know.  Don't worry about them too much.  You deserve this promotion, I'm sure that won't escape their notice."  Giles walked to the chair opposite Guin's desk and sat down.  "How's Connor?"

Guin shrugged wearily.  "I'm not exactly in his social circles anymore.  In fact, I haven't talked to him much since you let him in here."

"And you're planning on extracting yourself even further from his social circle," Giles added knowingly as he frowned.

Guin glared at him.  "Now why are you butting into my business?" she asked coldly.

"Because you're my friend, and he's my friend, and watching the both of you hurt each other hurts me."  Giles leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest.

"We're not hurting each other anymore.  That's why I moved out."

"I happen to know he's hurting, although he doesn't come out and say it.  I can see it.  And I know you're hurting.  Susan says that you said you're not sleeping."

Guin shook her head.  "It's the stress of this promotion review," she answered, "not Connor.  It's been a little better the past few days, but generally I'm just too wired to sleep well."

"And it couldn't be that you miss the arms around you in your bed?" Giles asked sarcastically.  Guin narrowed her eyes at him.  "Come on, you can't tell me you don't miss him."

Guin swallowed hard.  "I do.  I miss him terribly.  But I was more of a problem to him than a solution."

"A problem?  Funny, he never said anything to me about your being a problem."

"Well maybe he doesn't tell you everything, Giles," she snapped.  "Maybe there are things in our relationship that you just don't understand."  Guin took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  "I'm sorry, Giles.  See what all this stress does to me?  He's better off without me."

"I don't think he'd agree."  Giles leaned forward.  "Are you really serious about moving out of his house for good?"

Guin nodded.  "He told you, then.  I called him yesterday and arranged for time to pack up my things while he's not there, and then I'll get everything moved out on Saturday at the latest.  Rebecca said I can stay with her as long as I need to, until I find a real place of my own."

Giles smiled sadly at her.  "I know you too well to try to talk you out of this, although I wish you'd think about it a little longer.  But I'll help you move your things, if you'd like."

Guin nodded.  "I just might take you up on that.  I'll let you know by Saturday."
 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
Connor had been repeating the moves of the kata over and over all evening, but his actions were listless and uninspired.  He knew he had to fight tonight; there was no avoiding D'Angelo.  He hadn't done much probing after learning of his mistake with Grusling; perhaps D'Angelo was right, and Katrina had not been as involved in the drug ring as Connor had thought.  And if that were the case...Connor shuddered.  Bad enough to have one innocent's murder on my hands, but two...would certainly be two too many.  He shook his head as he began the kata again.  Between all the killing, and putting Guin in danger from Fenster and Mason for my own selfish need for love...perhaps she was right to leave.

Frustrated with his workout, Connor headed for the door, grabbing his trenchcoat and keys.  "John," Connor waved his son over.  John reluctantly walked over to where his father stood.  "I'm going to drive around for a while before heading out to Glenfinnan.  You know where all the paperwork is."  John nodded.  "Guin's still named as one of my heirs and your guardian, so if I don't come home..."

"Don't say that!" John said angrily, tears coming to his eyes.  "Don't talk about not coming back.  You have to come back."

Connor pulled his son into a tight embrace.  "I'll do my best," he promised.  "I love you, John."

"I love you too, Dad."  John wiped the tears from his cheeks as he watched his father walk out the door.
 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
Guin picked up the phone on the first ring.  "Hello?"

"Guin, is that you?"

Panic settled into Guin's chest at the tone of John's voice.  "John, what's wrong?"

"Dad left to go meet this guy, to fight."  John sniffled audibly.  "He wasn't very positive about it, and I'm afraid he's not going to make it home.  And I...I don't really want to be here by myself right now."

Dammit, why didn't you call me, Connor?  I could have stayed with John.  Still can, in fact.  "Hang on, kiddo.  I'll be right over."  Guin hung up the phone and grabbed her coat.

"Where are you going?" Rebecca asked, coming out of the kitchen.

"To a friend in need -- I'll probably be home late, don't wait up," Guin called as she headed out the door.

Guin sped along as fast as she dared, quickly arriving at the front door of the house.  John rushed into her embrace, and they clung to each other for a long moment.  "Has he said anything to you about this opponent?" Guin queried.

John shook his head.  "Hardly anything.  Just that this guy's promised not to come after me.  But Dad's heart doesn't seem to be into fighting."  The boy gazed at Guin seriously.  "You're still named my legal guardian if...if he..."

"Shh," Guin hushed him gently, pulling John into another hug.  "Nothing's going to happen to him.  We've just gotta believe that.  Let's go watch some TV and distract ourselves til he makes it home, okay?"  Guin ushered the boy into the den, flipping on the television as they sat down.  Guin kept her arm around John, and he leaned his head against her shoulder as she channel-surfed.  There wasn't much on, and Guin finally settled on a bland film as Mandy discovered the new presence in the house and plopped herself in Guin's lap, purring loudly.  Guin stroked the cat's head.  Come cheer us up, Manders, Guin thought.  We need it.

"Mandy misses you," John said quietly.

"Apparently so," Guin replied, rubbing Mandy's back.

"So do I," John added.  "And so does..."

"I know where this is leading, John," Guin said tartly.  "Believe it or not, I miss you all too."

"They why aren't you going to move back in?" John's tone was hurt, and Guin sighed.

"Because I've got a bad attitude about things at the moment," she answered calmly.  "Neither you nor your father need my crap right now.  Sorting out my life is just taking longer than I figured."  Guin looked down at John's dejected face.  "I meant what I said, though, I'm not going to step out of your life.  I care about you too much."

"You said you cared about Dad too," John accused.

"And I do," she said quietly.  "It's just that being around me is not a good idea for him right now, and he refuses to see it.  So it's my job to keep us apart."

John frowned hard.  "That's stupid."

Guin shook her head.  "It might seem that way, but it's not.  Maybe you'll understand when you're older."  She kissed his forehead.  "Both of us should try to sleep while we can.  We both have to be functional tomorrow morning, no matter what happens with your dad."  Guin took two blankets from the linen closet upstairs and brought them to the den, handing one to John.  "You sleep on the sofa in the living room, so you'll be the first to know when he comes back.  I'll take the sofa in here."  Guin escorted John into the living room and tucked him in.  John looked up at her, the worry for his father still filling his eyes.  "I'm glad you're here, Guin," he whispered.

Guin put her hand on John's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.  "I'm glad I'm here too."  Ruffling his hair playfully, Guin left John to try to sleep while she went upstairs and packed the rest of her things.  God knows I'm not going to have lunch breaks this week, the way things have heated up at work again.  Might as well get this done while I can.  Guin let the tears streak her cheeks as she quickly and haphazardly shoved her belongings into boxes and stacked them along the wall.  Wiping her face, she trudged down the stairs and stretched out on the sofa in the den, Mandy's soft body curled up at her feet.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
Glenfinnan wasn't very far up the road, and for once Connor truly wished it were a longer drive.  He pulled the Range Rover into the deserted car park of the visitor's center, sitting there for a few minutes to regain his focus.  Finally Connor stepped out of his vehicle and walked across the road, trudging down the path toward the illuminated Highlander monument.  He gazed up at the tall stone structure for a moment, then walked around the circular garden wall to stand on the rock-strewn beach.  The shores of Loch Shiel, he mused with a wan smile.  I was born here long before Bonnie Prince Charlie raised his standard, long before this monument to him was erected.  And tonight, I just might die here.  Connor picked up a stone and skimmed it across the dark water.  Brenda, Heather, what would you think of me now? he thought miserably.  Your man tried to be honorable, but in his overzealousness, he blew it.  And now he has to live up to what he's done.  Connor shook his head.  I have to defend myself, for John's sake if for no other reason...but if I win, and D'Angelo won't agree to let me go, I'll have to kill him.

The Immortal buzz hit Connor as he heard footsteps on the path.  Drawing his katana, he turned to see D'Angelo approaching, his swept-hilt sword in hand but with the tip pointed downward.  A woman was following a few steps behind him.  Connor cautiously stepped forward.  "Who's she?" he asked, nodding toward the woman.

"That's my wife."  D'Angelo stopped at the gate in the garden wall, and did not move as Connor stepped closer.

"Do you really want her to witness this?" Connor asked, eyebrow raised, as he continued his approach.

D'Angelo's wife lifted her chin to gaze at Connor.  "Don't you recognize me?" she asked softly.

Connor's face went pale as his heart skipped a beat, and he stopped in his tracks.  "Elena," he said, his voice barely audible.  Clearing his throat, Connor continued, "Did you ask to be a witness to my death?"

"She's not witnessing anything," D'Angelo replied, keeping his sword pointed at the ground.  "She is the reason I have decided not to take your Immortal life this night."

"You're not?" Connor's shock was evident in his voice.

D'Angelo motioned toward Connor's weapon.  "Put up your sword, as I will mine.  I withdraw my challenge."

Connor hesitantly slid his katana back under his trenchcoat, but stood well out of striking distance of D'Angelo.  "Why?" he asked, a mix of suspicion and curiosity in his tone.

D'Angelo let out a long breath.  "To be honest, because of Elena."

Elena stepped forward, and Connor could see a slight blush in her cheeks even in the dim light.  "Let me catch you up on the last ten years," she said with a smile.  "The Watchers recruited me not long after Robert's death.  Out of some morbid curiosity I kept track of you...and I saw that you kept your word to me."

"I tried my best," Connor replied solemnly.

"It wasn't until a few years ago that I met Damon and left the Watchers.  They aren't too keen on having one of their own involved with an Immortal -- too much temptation to interfere in Immortal affairs, I suppose.  But believe me, I checked Damon out thoroughly before I got involved," Elena said with a brief laugh.  "I knew he'd been involved with Katrina.  But I knew from the Chronicles and from the way he talked about his beloved Kat that he knew nothing of her activities and wasn't involved in them himself.  I never told him what I knew about her -- I didn't think it was that important to stir up the past, and I didn't want to ruin his memories."

"But you did anyway," Connor commented.

Elena nodded.  "Three days ago, when I found out from an old Watcher contact who Damon was hunting, and why.  I called him to try to stop him, and when that didn't work, I took the first flight out here from Montreal.  I couldn't let him kill you because of Katrina, especially not since I held the truth in my hands.  I couldn't let him make the same mistake you did -- having the best of intentions when you took someone's head, but for all the wrong reasons."  Elena smiled.  "Someone once told me that vengeance is not as sweet as you might think."

"She's certainly right there," D'Angelo remarked.  He leaned his sword against the garden wall and extended his hand to Connor.  Connor hesitantly accepted D'Angelo's handshake.  "I'm glad Elena was here to stop me, even though I didn't want to believe her at first."  D'Angelo's loving gaze toward his wife made Connor's heart ache.  "I don't know how I manage to keep forgetting that women are the civilizers of the human race," D'Angelo said, shaking his head.  "They keep men like us from getting too wild and losing who we are, and remind us that mercy and forgiveness are virtues."

"Yes, they do," Connor agreed solemnly.  He turned his head to Elena.  "I owe you my life twice over now."

"You owe me nothing," Elena replied with a shake of her head.  "I owe you for teaching me a much-needed lesson a decade ago."  A different line of thought suddenly crossed her mind.  "How's your son?"

Connor smiled.  "He's fine.  He'll be even better knowing I'm still alive.  And your boys?"

Elena nodded with a smile.  "Good.  Healthy, strong, and they love their stepdad."  She grinned at Damon, who smiled back.

D'Angelo paused, then looked squarely at Connor.  "I know that not everything Katrina did was good," he remarked sadly, "but I loved her anyway."

"I understand," Connor quietly replied.  "And I'm sorry."

"So am I."  D'Angelo sighed.  "So am I."  He picked up his head.  "Fare thee well, Connor MacLeod, and keep fighting the good fight."

Connor nodded to them both.  "You too.  Take care."  The three walked in silence to their respective vehicles, pulling out of the car park and onto the dark road.  In the hours after, the waves of Loch Shiel washed Connor's footprints from the shore, leaving no trace of his presence there.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
Guin was quite aware she was dreaming.  The field of heather she was standing in was too sunny for this early in the year, and the purple heather blossoms were fully flowering.  This was the fifth straight night that she'd dreamed of this field, although nothing ever happened in it.  Guin wasn't about to complain, however, since these dreams had chased away her nightmares.  But even in this gentle, warm dream, Guin's sadness lingered; she could feel herself sobbing, even in this glorious weather.

Guin caught sight of a woman moving toward her.  The sun glinted in the woman's honey-blonde hair that fell in tangled waves about her shoulders.  She wore a peasant-like dress, simple in style, but she walked with a strength and purpose that told Guin this was no ordinary woman.

The woman called out to Guin in a strong Scottish brogue, waving her over: "Guin!  Come here!"  Curiosity overcoming any fear she had, Guin walked toward the woman.  Guin could feel herself being inspected, yet she did not feel intimidated by it.  Finally the woman's gaze fell lightly on Guin's face.  "You're unhappy," the woman remarked knowingly.

"Yes," Guin replied, her voice faltering.

"You miss Connor, don't you?"

Guin nodded, unsurprised that this woman knew her troubles.  "But I'm doing this for his own good."

"You're hurting him more than ye realize."  The woman's disconcerting gaze made Guin shift and look away.

"He'll get over it," Guin replied unconvincingly.  "He's better off without me."

"He's nae happy.  And he never will be again."

Guin cocked her head.  "What do you mean?"

"Dinnae be daft, woman!  Ye ken the meaning of my words.  He will retreat from everything and everyone, be naught but a shell of himself."  Guin was about to protest, but the woman interrupted her.  "Go back to him, lass.  Before it's too late.  He needs you."  Turning, the woman began to walk off across the field.

"Wait!" Guin called.  "Who are you?  Why should I trust you?"  The woman turned back to Guin, plucked a sprig of heather and held it to her breast for a moment, then continued to walk across the field.  "No!" Guin cried out.  "Tell me who you are!"

Guin was startled awake by John's gleeful shout: "He's home!"  She smiled in relief as she heard the Range Rover's engine shut down, then frowned as she realized she'd have to face Connor now.  She was hoping she could keep the encounter brief.

"Dad!" John exclaimed, throwing his arms around his father's neck as Connor walked in the door.  Connor embraced his son tightly.  "I'm so glad you're home," John whispered.

Connor closed his eyes and let out a sigh.  "So am I."

Guin stepped into full view of the entryway, her coat slung over her arm in anticipation of a quick exit.  Connor saw her and raised a brow questioningly.

"John was a little freaked, and he called me," Guin explained.  "I had to come out here for the squirt," she added, giving John a smile and wink.

"It's good to know he can count on you," Connor replied.  Guin's heart ached at how weary he sounded.

"I'd better be going," she excused herself, "it's getting late."  Unconsciously Guin reached out and placed her hand on Connor's arm, the touch tender and soothing.  Suddenly aware of her actions, and realizing that the touch was undoing her self-restraint as well as counteracting her attempt at a clean break, Guin quickly withdrew her hand.  "I'm glad you're okay," she told him, avoiding eye contact.

Connor nodded in acknowledgment.  "Goodnight, Guin."  He held the door open for her.

"Goodnight."  Guin hurried out the door, which creaked closed behind her.
 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
Guin wearily made her way back to Rebecca's and stumbled to her room and into bed once she got there.  I wish I could've stayed to comfort you, Connor, she thought, remembering how tired he'd looked, as well as the thrill that had run through her from her brief touch.  Guin gazed for a moment at the picture on her nightstand -- the one of herself, Connor and John that Amanda had taken at the New Year's Eve party.  She sighed and gently turned it face down.

Guin curled tightly around her teddy bear, letting her mind wander where it would.  She imagined cradling Connor against her, stroking his soft hair, the mixed scent of a Quickening invading her nostrils: remnants of his cologne, sweat, and a slight electrical-burn smell, like the afterscent of an arc of electricity collapsing onto itself.  Guin knew that smell well enough these days, and she couldn't exactly say that she missed it, but she missed the person who often carried it.  The urge to go back to the house and take care of him was strong as she recalled the words of the woman in her dream: "Go back to him, lass.  Before it's too late.  He needs you."  Guin shook off the memory, but it didn't leave readily.  She picked up her dream notebook and scribbled down the dream, hoping that her mind would either work on it subconsciously as she slept or that she'd be able to ponder it over in the morning.  Sleep, child, she told herself.  Work's bad enough without losing more sleep.
 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
Connor had lain awake for hours.  He had opted for his own room this night, but the bed seemed unbearably empty.  Connor had been unable to sleep after his confusing but gratifying meeting with D'Angelo, and then Guin's presence in his home.  He had been so shocked at her appearance that he hadn't been able to truly find his voice until after she had walked out the door.  And she couldn't even bear to touch me, Connor noted with a frown.  She really is getting over me.  I don't matter enough for her to stay, even for just a few minutes.  Connor sighed in the back of his throat.  I suppose I ought to be thankful she's still willing to be there for John...he could use the support.  But I could use it too...if she were here, she'd be patient with me while I recovered from this, lending me the strength to see beyond the past that's always coming back to haunt me.  She'd comfort me and help me see the good in all this, help me look forward again.  He snorted.  If she could tolerate me and my Immortality, that is.  Which she can't, or else she would be here.  Connor sighed as he tossed and turned, hoping to find some position that wouldn't remind him how unoccupied the other half of  the bed was.  His body jolted as there was a light thud on the mattress.

"Mrow?" Mandy prodded in his ear.  Connor laughed.

"Determined to be my bedmate, are you?" he asked the feline.  She simply meowed again and curled up on Guin's pillow, her tail swishing in Connor's face.  "Thank you," he said sarcastically, pushing the appendage away from his nose.  Mandy simply pulled her tail away, then lashed harder with it as Connor took his hand away.  "Come here, you rascal," he said, picking up the cat and placing her on his chest.  Mandy stretched out against him and began to purr.  I think she knows who needs her most, he remembered John saying.  "I'm beginning to think he's right," Connor whispered, looking at Mandy's sleepy face as he stroked her fur.  "You're trying to help fill in the void Guin left."  Connor closed his eyes, focused on Mandy's soft sound as he finally drifted into exhausted sleep.
 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
Even after sleeping in, Connor was still groggy when he answered the phone the next morning.  "Hello?" he said with a yawn.

"Good grief, Connor, you don't sound well," Rachel scolded him.

"Good morning to you too," Connor teased.  "And what's got you up so early...or is it up so late for you?" he asked, glancing at his watch.

"Up late, unfortunately," she replied.  "Frank is out with his friends, and I needed a friendly voice of my own.  Jason told me you were still at home."

"Mmm hmm."

"Rough night last night?" Rachel asked worriedly.

"Yeah."  Connor explained the events leading up to the previous night's encounter with D'Angelo.

"My goodness!" Rachel replied.  "At least you have some reasons to live now, or you just might have offered him your head."

"John is definitely a worthwhile reason," Connor said, smiling to himself.

There was a brief pause.  "And what about Guin?"

Connor's smile withered.  "She..." Connor took a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh.  "She left me, Rachel."

"She left you?" Rachel repeated in disbelief.

"A couple of weeks ago.  It's a long story."  Connor began to pace at the end of his phone cord tether.

"It would have to be.  And you just let her walk away, did you?"

"I had no choice, Rachel.  She wanted some time to herself.  And it'll be better this way."  Connor squeezed his eyes shut.  "Now she can have someone to grow old with, and not have to deal with all this."

Connor could almost hear Rachel's deep frown.  "Connor, dear, don't take this the wrong way, but...you're being an idiot.  She's handled your 'difference' just fine so far, what makes you think that's the problem?"

"It's always a problem."

"And she said that, in so many words?" Rachel challenged him.

"Well, no..."

"And did you bother to ask her what was wrong?"

"She had some story about being under stress from work," Connor replied defensively.  "I just don't buy it, Rachel.  She's been under stress before, but what would make it so bad that she'd move out of here?  This is supposed to be her refuge from all that."

"Maybe she doesn't see it that way, Connor."

"And why wouldn't she?"

Connor could picture Rachel rolling her eyes.  "For goodness sake, Connor, I don't know.  Why don't you ask her?"

"I can't."

"Well why on earth not?"

Connor fidgeted with the phone cord.  "Because she's been avoiding me.  And every time we talk, she ends up being very cold to me."

"Cold?  With your charm, she still manages to be cold?" Rachel sighed.  "Good grief, Connor, what did you do to her to make her hate you so?"

"I didn't do anything," he replied obstinately, but with a hint of guilt in his tone.

"Then why is she avoiding you?"

"I don't know!"  Connor's exasperation was beginning to show.

"And you refuse to try to find out.  I thought you loved her, Connor."

"I do.  I love her enough to let her go.  She deserves a normal life, without dealing with my problems."

"I thought she chose to live with those a long time ago."  Rachel cleared her throat pointedly.

"Maybe she changed her mind.  I don't know."

"You need to find out, Connor.  Before it's too late."

"I think it's already too late."  Connor let out a long breath as he finally sat down.  "Rachel, can I be honest with you?"

"You usually are."  She laughed gently.  "And brutally so.  What's on your mind, dear?"

Connor fidgeted with his pen, his uncertainty evident in his extended silence.  "I...she..."  Connor shook his head to clear his thoughts.  "She means a lot to me, Rachel."

"That's pretty obvious to everyone around you."  Rachel's gentle smile was audible in her words.

"There aren't many people I would allow to get that close to me.  And not many people who would put up with me, or my particular type of problems."  Connor exhaled a frustrated breath through his nostrils.

"I know," Rachel replied simply, waiting for him to continue.

"I liked being able to trust her."  Connor shook his head sadly.  "I liked knowing I could come home after a hard day and she'd actually want to take care of me."

Rachel knew he wasn't talking about a hard day at the office.  "She liked being there for you, I think.  It made her feel useful."

"Yeah, it did."  Connor let out a long, heartfelt sigh.  "And I think I became too dependent on her."

"No, you didn't, Connor," Rachel corrected him.  "You just got used to her.  That's not necessarily a bad thing, to become accustomed to someone's presence in your life."  Rachel's voice turned softer.  "You miss her, don't you?"

Connor fidgeted in his chair.  "Yeah, I do."

"She needs to know that."

"Don't you think I've told her, Rachel?  I've made it quite obvious, and it hasn't done a damned thing."  Connor leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet up on the desk with a poignant thud.

"But have you told her in so many words, Connor?  Since she told you she was leaving, have you literally said, 'I love you and I want you to stay'?" Rachel pressed.

Connor closed his eyes.  "No."

"And why in the world not?"

"Because I'm not going to guilt her into loving me.  She either does or she doesn't."

It was Rachel's turn to let out a frustrated sigh.  "You are so terribly stubborn.  If she feels guilty over that, then she does love you, you oaf.  Otherwise she would just tell you what you could do with it."

Connor laughed.  "As straightforward as ever, Rachel.  I can't say I miss facing that on a regular basis."  His tone turned more serious.  "She's coming to get her things on Saturday, I'll get a sense of how she's feeling then, and see what I can do.  But I doubt she'll be open to listening to me at all."

"You have to at least try, Connor," Rachel told him seriously.  "She deserves that much effort from you."
 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
Giles' manager Gary Martinez stormed into Guin's office Friday morning and closed the door behind him.  "What the hell happened this morning?"

Guin took a deep breath to steady herself.  "I did what I could.  The clients just wanted more service from us than we are capable of offering at the present time."

Martinez looked like steam might come out of his ears any minute.  "You lost three -- count 'em, three -- clients this morning.  If I didn't know you had more potential in you, you'd be fired already."  He paced the office, fuming.  "This will not happen again, do you hear me?"

Guin gritted her teeth, her shortened temper taking over.  "Oh, I hear you," she began, standing up.  "And I can hardly believe my ears.  I spent all freaking morning trying to keep those clients with us, despite the fact that we can't offer them the level of service they need right now.  On top of that, I've given up lunches, I spend hours in overtime, just to keep up with the business we've got.  I haven't had a real weekend in God knows how long, even if I'm home I'm fretting over this place and checking my e-mail."  Guin tried to keep her voice steady even as she shook with anger.  "I have sacrificed my entire life to this place, and this is the thanks I get.  Well, I'll tell you what -- I am going to lunch now, and I'm not going to worry about whether it's okay or not.  And I'll be back when I'm back, maybe a couple of hours from now.  And I don't know if I really care whether I have a job when I get back."  Guin grabbed her coat and purse and stormed out of the office.

Having lost her appetite, Guin wandered around town a bit, but stopped only at a pharmacy to purchase pain reliever and antacid.  I've done it now, she chided herself.  I lost Connor, now I've lost my job...my imperfections never end, do they?  Guin shook her head, fighting down the urge to cry.  I can't do anything right.  Now I'm going to have to go back to the States, probably...I'm going to lose Scotland too.  After whiling away only a half-hour, Guin headed back to the office.  Might as well seal my fate.  Giles was waiting for her in her office, and he closed the door after she entered.

"Word is that if anyone runs into you, they're to direct you to Martinez's office."  Giles raised a brow at her.  "I know he was in here earlier.  Want to tell me what happened?"

Guin sighed.  "I blew it, that's what happened.  He yelled at me for losing those clients this morning, and I lost my temper and stormed out to go to lunch -- and basically dared him to fire me."

"Whoa, back up...he blames you for losing those clients?"

"Mmm hmm."

Giles gave a low whistle.  "Well, he's going to have to think again."

"No, he's going to fire me, that's what he's going to do," Guin retorted.

Giles shook his head.  "He won't.  He'll cool down."  Giles gave her a serious look.  "Do you want me to go in there with you?"

"No."  Guin shook her head.  "I need to do this alone."

Giles gazed at her, worry in his eyes.  "When you get back, take the rest of the afternoon off."

"Why?" Guin asked suspiciously.  "Because I've made enough mistakes for one day?"

"No," Giles gently protested.  "Because you're tired and upset and you could use a break."  Giles approached her.  "Don't take this the wrong way -- this is totally outside of work, as your friend."  Cautiously Giles hugged her, and Guin breathed out a sigh.  "Better?" he asked, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eye.

"Yeah."  Guin gave a weak smile.

A knock came at the door, and before Guin could answer, the door opened and Martinez's stern face appeared.  "Barnes, in my office, now."

Giles gave Guin's shoulders a squeeze before releasing her.  "Don't let the piranha get to you, tiger," he said quietly, giving her a wink.

Martinez quickly ushered Guin into his office, closing the door behind them.  "Have a seat," he offered, gesturing toward a chair as he seated himself behind his desk.

"Can I say something before we get started?" Guin asked, sitting rigidly on the edge of her seat.  Martinez nodded, and Guin took a deep breath before beginning.  "I know you probably called me in here to terminate my employment," she said calmly, "but I wanted to say first that I apologize deeply for my outburst.  I cannot justify my behavior, but I do swear it won't happen again.  And I willingly accept whatever reprimand you deem necessary."  Finishing her speech, Guin clenched her teeth and braced for the worst.

"Well," Martinez said, steepling his fingers thoughtfully.  A brief pause hung in the air before he spoke again.  "That wasn't quite what I was expecting.  Not what I get from most of my employees."  Guin bowed her head, and Martinez studied her carefully.  "It takes a great deal of strength to admit when one is wrong."

"Thank you," Guin replied, shifting uncomfortably.

Martinez pursed his lips.  "First and foremost, I am not going to terminate one of the most loyal and client-friendly people we've got," he stated firmly.  "Secondly, I appreciate that you kept your outburst low-key and behind closed doors -- it was between you and myself, and it will remain that way."  Guin nodded, her head still lowered.  "Look at me when I'm speaking to you, Ms. Barnes."

"Sorry."  Guin raised her head, but had difficulty meeting Martinez's gaze.

"That's better.  Thirdly, I know you've been under a lot of stress lately.  We all have, but you've taken a lot on yourself particularly."  Martinez frowned.  "I know that's what caused the outburst."

"Will this incident be reflected in the promotion review?" Guin asked hesitantly.

"The reviewers have made their recommendations, and there's no reason for me to argue with any of their decisions," Martinez replied.

"Oh."  Guin's heart sank.  Guess I wasn't going to get the promotion anyway.

"If you don't mind losing the compensation pay, I think you should take your overtime compensation in days off instead.  And begin ASAP."  Martinez shuffled some of the papers on his desk.

Guin shifted in her chair.  "There are a few things I'd like to finish up.  I could handle everything I need in a few hours per day over the next week, and then take two full weeks off from there.  That would take some of the pressure off the rest of the group."  Guin swallowed hard.  Forced vacation, she thought bitterly.  What the hell am I going to do with two weeks of vacation?  Especially now that I'm all alone.  Maybe it's time for a trip back to the States.

"That's fine," Martinez finally responded to her request.  "Your new pay scale will have started by the time you get back, then."

"New pay scale?"  Guin bit her lip as her stomach tightened.  What, is he scaling down my pay instead of firing me?  God, what have I done to myself?

Martinez furrowed his brow at her.  "Yes, new pay scale.  Your supervisor's pay."  His brow unknitted as he realized her misinterpretation, and his voice gentled.  "Guin, I'm not passing up the chance to promote one of our best just because she yelled back when I yelled at her.  I came down on you pretty hard earlier, and you were only reacting as anyone might under the circumstances.  That's understandable.  And on top if everything, I took a call from the Hansons myself while you were at lunch, and they decided to scale back their project and work with us on our terms -- because of you.  Your professionalism, your willingness to go as far as our restraints would allow you, your art of the deal.  And I talked to the Stevens people again, just a few minutes ago.  They might change their minds too, but they insist on working with you if they do.  They liked your style and grace under pressure."

"Me?" Guin queried uncertainly.  "Really?"

"You do good work, and people appreciate that."  Martinez smiled.  "Especially me.  I do know what kind of bastard I can be.  And I do know how much of your heart and soul goes into this company.  That's why I want you to take time off, to give you time to recuperate and catch your breath.  Believe it or not, we're beginning to slow down a bit, and we can survive without you for a little while."  He smirked.  "So enjoy your holiday."

Guin blushed.  "Thank you."

"I'll send Giles a memo detailing what we've decided about your time off.  The promotions will be officially announced next week.  Congratulations."  Martinez stood up with Guin and shook her hand.

"Thank you."  Guin turned a deeper shade of red.  "And thank you for understanding.  I swear, it won't happen again."

"I'm sure it won't."  Martinez shook his head.  "Next week's announcements will clear up a lot of things."  He scanned Guin's face, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the frown lines reinforcing themselves around her mouth.  "You didn't take a long lunch," he remarked, "and you stressed through what you did take.  Am I right?"  Guin nodded, and Martinez frowned at her.  "Go home.  Get some rest.  We'll see you on Monday -- not a moment sooner, and then only for a few hours.  All right?"

"I've got a few things I want to clear off my desk this afternoon," Guin replied.  "I don't want to leave Giles in any more of a lurch than I already am."

Martinez sighed as he glanced at his watch.  "You will be out of here by three, or I will come kick you out."

"Yes sir."  Guin finally smiled.  "Thank you, sir."

"Thank you," he replied, gently closing the door behind Guin as she exited.
 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
Guin checked her e-mail when she finally got home, and she knew she was in trouble when the subject line of the singular e-mail was in all caps: "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR WEE LITTLE MIND?"  Only her best friend Claire would put in a title like that -- and, of course, she meant it.  Guin sighed heavily, knowing she was in for a lecture as she clicked on the e-mail to open it.  At least she was alone in the house and wouldn't have any unexpected interruptions in reading it.

"Okay, let me get this straight.  You've spent how many months telling me how great this guy is and how much you love him.  In fact, in the first sentence of your last e-mail you said you loved him.  Then in the next sentence, you tell me you've LEFT him?  All I can say is, ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR STINKING WEE LITTLE MIND, GIRL?  So you're stressed at work.  SO WHAT?  Let me rephrase what you told me in you last mail in such a way that it might get through to you.  YOU ARE GIVING UP THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE FOR YOUR F-ING CAREER.  A career you don't even need, and often enough tell me you're not sure you want.  What kind of an idiot are you?  Now, I know you're not that stupid.  How long have I known you?  How long have you been looking for 'The One'?  And how many times have you and this wonderful guy you so happily introduced me to a couple of months ago argued/fought/disagreed and gotten through it now?  Uh, excuse me, knock knock, IS ANYBODY HOME?

"Remember when I was going off for my Master's degree and Dr. P told me that it was great that I had all these opportunities, but not to go giving up a great mate for that?  (And I didn't give James up, did I?)  Well, that's what I'm trying to repeat to you.  DO NOT go assuming what he can and cannot handle from you.  If you want to know if he can handle your crankiness or whatever, then ASK HIM.  Simple as that.  Okay, lecture over.  But I better hear back from you soon saying you're back together and everything's okay."

Guin sighed.  After this day at work, she was beginning to think Rebecca was right -- Guin's mental health had been better when she was around Connor.  And perhaps Claire was right too, although Guin felt it was a little late to just ask Connor.  But maybe she could toss him a bone and open up the lines of communication again.  Guin picked up the receiver and dialed the antique shop, but Connor had already left for the day.  Gathering up her courage for a second time, she dialed the house.

"Beaton residence," came the weary response.

"Hi, Connor," Guin replied shyly.  She heard Connor sigh frustratedly on the other end of the line.

"What can I do for you, Guin?"

Guin frowned to herself at his indifferent tone.  You'd rather not do anything for me, wouldn't you?  "I just wanted to check with you for a good time to come over tomorrow to get my things.  I figured I'd work around your schedule."  And maybe we can talk, she thought hopefully.

"Listen, I don't really care when you come by tomorrow, all right?  I've already had more hassle than I can stand today.  All kinds of crap coming down at the shop, and then more problems with the new room when I came home.  I'm very tired, and right now, my plan is to crash tomorrow, so come by whenever.  If I'm out or asleep, you can just get your things and leave the keys on my desk."  Connor tapped his pen impatiently.

You don't even care if you see me, Guin thought sadly.  You'd rather I just stepped out of your life without a trace.  Aloud she said, "Oh.  Okay.  I'll just stop by whenever, then.  I still owe you for this month's rent, I'll leave you a check too."

"Don't worry about it.  It's not important."

"It is to me.  I don't let myself owe anyone."  Guin frowned.  "Well, if I don't see you tomorrow, Connor...goodbye."

"Bye, Guin," he replied.  Guin heard Connor hesitate for a moment, then hang up.  Moving to the bed, Guin put her arms around her knees, the tears beginning to roll down her face.  Why are you so cold? she thought miserably.  You must really hate me now.  I've really lost you.

Guin looked up as Rebecca knocked on the doorframe, then walked over and sat down on the bed next to Guin.  "Uh oh.  Let me guess, this is about Connor, right?"  Rebecca sighed.  "You know, it's really hard to feel sorry for you when you brought all this on yourself.  You were the one who chose to be angry toward Connor.  You were the one who chose your job over him. You were the one who was cruel to him after you left."

Guin bit back a fiery retort, realizing that all Rebecca said was true.  "I know," she said finally.

"Do you?" Rebecca challenged her.

"Yeah."

"You never act like you know..."

"Well I do now, okay?" Guin shouted.  "I know damned well now!  I damned near lost my job today because my temper was so short, and I realized that if I lost my job, I'd be losing everything because I flushed everything else in my life down the goddamned toilet!"  Guin burst into tears.  Rebecca reached for her, but Guin pushed her hand away.  "Don't," she sobbed.  "Don't feel sorry for me, I'm just a screw-up."

"But you see your mistakes," Rebecca said gently.  "What's this about your job, though?  You almost lost it?"

"I don't want to talk about it right now."  Guin sniffled.

"Okay," Rebecca replied, keeping her tone gentle.  "But I'm here when you want to talk."

"It doesn't matter."  Guin shrugged.  "Nothing matters now, except that I only figure out my mistakes when it's too late."  She wiped her tears away.  "I'll be out of here as soon as I can, Rebecca.  Get my stupid self and my stupid problems out of your hair."

Rebecca shook her head.  "And that's your solution -- you're going to run away from me just like you ran away from Connor."  Rebecca frowned.  "You know very well that it wasn't just all about work.  Deep inside, you knew that if you opened up to Connor, both you and he could handle how stressed you've been.  It was just an excuse to run away."  Rebecca rested her hand on top of Guin's.  "I know you don't want to admit it, but there's a grain of truth there, isn't there?"

Guin nodded.  "But what I'm running away from, I can't escape.  The only thing I can do is get it away from Connor."

"So what is this monster that's chasing you?"  Rebecca raised an eyebrow.

"It's me."  Guin sighed, wiping the last of her tears from her face.  "I understand my own nature too well, that's why I'm such an asset to the shelter, Rebecca.  I can understand the behavior of women with low self-esteem, because I do it myself.  I turn my own self- loathing outward and lash out at those around me.  That's why I run away, to keep others from getting hurt because of me."

"And you couldn't just try to modify your behavior instead?" Rebecca asked pointedly.

Guin blushed.  "That would be harder," she confessed.  "That would mean trusting someone else enough to let them help me change the way I act."

"And you don't trust Connor enough?"  Rebecca gave her an incredulous look.

"Oh, no, I do trust him...I trust him with my life."  Guin shook her head.  "But he has enough of his own problems, he doesn't need to deal with mine."

"Maybe he wants to," Rebecca countered.  "Didn't you say that's why you help out at the shelter?  Because dealing with other people's problems gives you a different perspective on yours?"

"He doesn't need my perspective."

"So let me get this straight...you're doing all this just to protect him from you."  Rebecca furrowed her brow.

"Exactly."

"Is that your highest truth?"  Rebecca's intense gaze made Guin squirm.  "Let me tell you what I think, Guin, now that I'm seeing more of the picture.  Your behavior may be at the root of all this, but I think what you're really running from is the possibility of rejection.  You were so certain that he'd reject you for your crankiness, and I'll bet your behavior intensified itself just to prove you right.  And you think that if you begin to make the changes you need to make, you'll be pointing up your quote-unquote bad behavior more, so that he can't help but notice it, and that he'll reject you for it.  So instead, you've rejected him first."

"I haven't rejected him..."

"That's a load of crap."  Rebecca looked Guin square in the eye until Guin flinched.  Rebecca let out a long sigh.  "You're going to have to face yourself if you want to change, and if you're going to make things right with him."

Guin shook her head.  "It's too late, Rebecca, I don't think he wants anything more to do with me."  She huffed out a breath.  "But you are right.  I am going to have to face myself, and my behavior, if I ever want to be able to maintain a relationship."  New tears came to her eyes.  "I just wish I hadn't screwed up this one."

"You can still talk to him tomorrow," Rebecca said gently.  "All you can offer is an explanation of what you're going through -- with your highest truth behind it.  It might not change anything dramatically or bring you two back together, but it will probably leave things in a better state than they're in right now."

Guin nodded slowly as she sniffled.  "It won't be easy."

"No one ever said doing the right thing was easy."  Rebecca smiled faintly and embraced her friend.  "You'll be okay, Guin," she added quietly.  "No matter what happens, it'll be okay."
 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
Chapter 15: "Starting Over"
 
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