Giles rang the doorbell of Connor's home, with Guin practically hiding behind him.  Her nerves had overcome her this Saturday morning, and she did not want to face Connor at all.  Since she had to in order to retrieve the rest of her belongings, however, she was glad Giles was there to serve as intermediary.  Connor opened the door, then stepped aside to let them enter.  "Come in," he said, his tone flat and gruff.  Connor looked as worn out as he had sounded the night before, his dark grey sweater and faded black jeans reflecting his tired and dismal mood.

Giles walked in first.  Spotting John, he said, "Hey kid!" then leaned over and whispered something to John.  The boy nodded in response.

"John, where did you put those boxes for Guin?" Connor asked.

"In your office."  John hurried off toward the back door.  "I'm going out.  Later."

Guin's heart sank.  She had been hoping John would be there to act as another buffer between her and Connor.  Connor led the way to his office, motioning for his visitors to follow, and Giles ushered Guin inside in front of him.  As soon as Connor and Guin were in the office, the door slammed shut.  Guin tried to open it, but it was apparent that Giles was holding the door closed from the outside.  "Ah ah ah," Giles called through the door, "you're not coming out til you've talked this out.  Granted, either one of you could probably just push past me, but that wouldn't be very nice.  Just give it a go, would you?"

Connor frowned.  "There's always another way."  As Connor's shadow fell over the window, however, a spray of water spattered it from the outside.  As the glass cleared, he could see John with the garden hose outside.  "Damn, he's even got my son in on this."  Connor turned back from the window and walked over to his desk, sitting against the sturdy oak.  "What now?" he asked Guin.

Guin hardly heard him.  She was looking from the opposite wall to the desk, where a square, flat box sat.  "You took down the dreamcatcher," she said quietly, disappointment echoing in her voice.

"I thought you'd want it back."

Guin looked at him sharply.  "Why would you think that?"

"You said you only give them to people you care about."  Connor folded his arms over his chest.

"I still care about you."

"I suppose that's why you left."  Connor's biting tone sent chills down Guin's back.

"You don't understand..."

"No, I don't understand.  You agreed to buy into the house, among other things," Connor said pointedly.  "I thought you liked it here."

"I do, but...I just thought we needed some space."

"There's plenty of space in this house.  You didn't have to leave."

"Not like you've really tried to stop me," Guin retorted, her temper heating up at his obstinance.  "You let me go, just like Alex."  Connor flashed her a dirty look.  "Maybe you didn't love either one of us enough to keep us from going," she added saucily.

Connor frowned hard at her, his voice a growl.  "Well maybe, like Alex, you left because there's someone else waiting for you."

Guin stared at him, stunned to silence for a moment.  "Are you accusing me of leaving you for someone else, Connor?  If that were the case, I'd have just come out and told you -- I've been strung along too many times myself, I wouldn't do that to you."

"Then why were you hiding Misha's letter from me, and never shared what you'd written back?"

"Because it was private," she answered defiantly.

"Or maybe because he confessed his continuing love for you, and you felt the same."  Connor's nostrils flared as he glared at her.

"Are you nuts?" Guin retorted, her voice rising.  "Why in God's name would you think I'd want him back?  I certainly don't want to be in Russia, and especially not for his sake.  He can go take a dive off a high cliff into shallow water for all I care.  There is no one else, Connor.  And I wouldn't want anyone else, because I love you, you idiot!"

Connor shook his head, not believing her.  "Then why did you leave?  And why are you still moving out?"

"I...because I...I needed some space around me, Connor.  I needed the distance."  Guin paused, searching for the words to explain.  Finally she added, "And I was just trying to protect you."

"Protect me?"  Connor gave a bitter laugh.  "I suppose that's why you've insisted on being so cruel to me, why you've rejected me every chance you've gotten."  He paused, letting out a long breath.  "I could have handled the truth, you know."

"What truth?"  Guin knitted her eyebrows.

Connor fidgeted and looked down.  "It's me, isn't it?  That's what you can't deal with.  You don't want to get away from this house, you want to get away from me."  Connor was keenly aware that Giles was probably listening at the door.  So was Guin.  She walked up to Connor, putting her face just inches from his.

"It's not your goddamned Immortality, okay?" she whispered fiercely.  "Is that what you think?  I keep telling you it's about my work, you moron, but as usual, you aren't listening to me.  You just make your own freaking assumptions."  Connor glared at her, but Guin stared him down.  "You're the one who has a problem with it, not me.  Why do you always think it has to be about that?"

"Because you've thrown it in my face repeatedly," Connor growled through gritted teeth, turning his face from her.  "When you started make a big deal out of it, I read between the lines."

"Read between the lines?" Guin asked incredulously.  "There wasn't any writing between the lines  to read, Connor.  No, you just want me to see things the way you do, you want me to hate your Immortality as much as you do, and you want me to leave because of it so you can justify your own hatred of your condition."  Guin let out a frustrated sigh.  "My leaving had to do with me and my job.  It was always about me and the job."

"And your job is the reason you bitched about my Immortality every chance you got, why you left when you knew I'd been challenged again, why you had nightmares for months about Mason, why you didn't stay longer when I came back from the fight this week...You know, I almost grabbed onto a little hope when you reached out and touched me that night, but then you just ripped the hope away from me again.  That's when I knew that the Immortality was the problem."

Guin's face paled.  "All those things are fact, Connor, but the reasons are not what you think," she said softly.  "Really, they're not."

"Then tell me your reasons," Connor said sarcastically, but after leaving her only a short moment to answer, he shook his head.  "No, never mind, I don't want to hear your excuses."  Connor's tone turned accusing.  "When you moved out, you never intended to come back, did you?  Never.  Not in a few weeks, not in a few years.  I should have known you couldn't handle the Immortality.  I should have sent you away after the fight with Fenster after all."

Stunned by his words, Guin backed off, watching as he stacked the dreamcatcher box on top of another small box on the desk.  She suddenly realized that the picture of the two of them was notably absent from the desktop, leaving an empty space in his sparse arrangement of photographs.  Connor roughly placed the pair of boxes in her hands, then began to walk toward the door.

"Connor," Guin protested, "Connor, wait...give me another chance to explain..."

Connor held his hand up to her, narrowing his eyes.  "No more talk.  End of conversation."  He quickly opened the door and began the process of staring down Giles.  "Out of my way," Connor told the other man, thinly-veiled anger in his voice and eyes.  Giles quickly complied, stepping aside.  Connor exited the office, the sound of his footsteps revealing that he was heading upstairs.

Guin stood in the middle of the office, clutching the boxes to her chest, her lower lip trembling as her eyes filled with tears.  Giles approached her, putting his arm around her awkwardly.  John popped his head in.  "It didn't work, did it?" he asked, disappointed.

"No," Giles responded, watching as Guin silently put the boxes on the desk and walked to the window.  "Go upstairs and start bringing down stuff, will you?  I think it's time we were leaving."

John bounded up the stairs to what had been Guin and Connor's room.  He found his father sitting on the bed, head in his hands.  Connor looked up at the sound of John's entrance.

"Are you just going to let her leave?"  John asked contemptuously, bracing himself for a fiery retort.

"I can't make her stay," Connor answered soberly, rubbing his eyes with one hand.  John could now see the tear trails on his father's face.

"Yes you can.  If you wanted to."  John stood his ground squarely.  "Or don't you want to?  I thought you loved her, Dad."

Connor shot his son an angry look.  "She is the one who doesn't want to stay.  She's made that more than clear with her actions.  And she's the one who's come to take her things away today."  Connor looked down at his hands and took a deep breath.  "But in spite of all that...I do love her."

"Are you sure?" John replied hotly.  "She's in tears, about to leave, even though I'm pretty sure she doesn't want to.  She's really upset.  And you're up here doing nothing to stop her.  Doesn't look to me like you love her."  At another vile glance from Connor, he added, "You can punish me for saying all this if you want.  I'm just telling the truth as I see it.  I would ask her to stay myself, but I don't think she would agree unless you asked her."

Connor shook his head, staring down at his hands.  "I don't want her to go, but I can't ask her to stay now.  Too much has come between us, otherwise she wouldn't be moving her things out now."  He finally looked back up at his son.  "If she doesn't want to leave, then why hasn't she said something?"

"I don't know, Dad.  I wish I did."  John scuffed his shoe on the floor.  "If you're not going to stop her, you could at least help us carry some of her stuff out."

Connor frowned, releasing a deep sigh.  "I'll be right there."  Watching his son leave the room with Guin's suitcase in hand, Connor stood up and stretched wearily.  He was feeling old again, feeling his age.  And he didn't like it.

Slowly Connor shuffled down the hall and into Guin's room, which momentarily was empty of other people.  The sight of the stacked boxes and empty walls made his heart ache.  As Connor's eyes rover over the room, the corner of a sheet of paper sticking out from under the bed caught his attention.  He picked up the page, only to find another underneath it.  They were two pages from Guin's poetry notebook.

  Excess

  In rage, in desire
  the fires of passion
  flash like lightning,
  I say things that maybe
  I don't know what they mean,
  things that maybe I don't mean.
  I talk just to split the silence
  that makes me think more than I like to.
  I turn to melodrama in fear
  of the sound of my real voice speaking out,
  in fear of what the silence might uncover,
  in fear of our hearts beating out of synch.
  Talk I must, or else
  be reconciled with the unsaid:
  I would have to face the reality
  of always being alone:
  no matter how close to me
  someone is, I am always alone
  in a sense.
  This is the conclusion I want to avoid.
  So I talk, moan, cry, whine,
  begging for shallow attention like a child,
  still learning how to survive
  without words.

The date scribbled in the corner indicated that the poem had been written just a few days before Guin had moved out -- and shortly after Connor had criticized her for her yelling at him and crying so much.  Oh Guin, he anguished, his heart breaking.  You didn't have to beat yourself up over this.  I did more than enough of that for both of us.  The second poem stunned Connor even more.

  The Challenge

  There will be days
  when I will challenge you to love me.
  I will ask you why you love me,
  then tell you
  that the reasons aren't good enough,
  that you must be insane or stupid to love me,
  that I'm not worth the bother.
  In these times you must remember
  how much I really love you
  and how deeply I need you.

  Will you be able to forgive me
  when I walk out
  without explanation or destination,
  silent as the moon passing overhead,
  restless as the stars which change position every night,
  returning somehow changed
  but still not altogether well?
  This depression that holds me
  has feet all its own.

  On my own
  I cannot rid myself
  of this dark, twisted thing
  burning my soul.
  I run like an injured animal
  from all, though the one pursuing
  might just be the one to save me.
  Though I push you away so harshly,
  as I push all others away,
  as I push away this dark intruder,
  I need you like I need the light of dawn
  breaking me away from the harsh, cold night.

  Love heals wounds as well as time does,
  and though it seems I fight it,
  I cry out silently for it,
  the scream echoing in my soul.
  Touch me, I am real.
  And with that touch
  the weight will drop from my shoulders
  and your challenge will be won.

Connor knitted his eyebrows as he read.  He seriously doubted that she'd left these poems there on purpose, but they certainly seemed to fit what they were going through.  First Rachel, then Giles and John, now the poems.  This is crazy, he thought.  But what if she really is telling the truth?  What if it is just her job that's bothering her, and that's why she's pushing me away?  Connor frowned.  But if that's all, then why in God's name would she go so far as to leave this place over something like that?  Connor stared at the last stanzas of "The Challenge," and suddenly Guin's voice came to him clearly from their argument: "I wouldn't want anyone else, because I love you, you idiot!...And I was just trying to protect you."

Connor knew that if he wanted a straight answer, he needed to find Guin and talk to her, before it was too late -- if it wasn't already.  Connor put the papers face-down on the desk and walked into the hallway, where he nearly ran into Giles coming back in to get more boxes.  "Where's Guin?" Connor asked him.

"She's still in your office, if you really care to find her," Giles said abruptly, taking another box to carry down the stairs.  Connor followed him down, but turned off to go into the office.  Guin was facing the window, her shoulder and temple leaned dejectedly against the frame.  She turned her head at the sound of his footsteps.

"My house keys are on the desk.  So is the rent check."  Guin turned her face back to the window.  "And keep the dreamcatcher," she said quietly, her tear-filled voice cracking.  "Put it in a drawer, in the basement, throw it out, I don't care.  But I'm not taking it back.  I gave it to you from my heart, and it'd break my heart to take it back."  Guin hunched her shoulders as she folded her arms.  "I'm sorry I've been such a problem to you today," she added soberly, glancing at him over her shoulder.  "I know I've hurt you, but I beg of you to consider granting me your forgiveness.  I really don't want us to part like this."  She took a deep breath, letting it out in a long sigh when Connor didn't respond.  "I really was trying to protect you, you know -- painful as the effort was for both of us.  But I'm truly sorry for all the pain I've caused you, both today and over the past few weeks.  I'll be out of your way soon enough."

"You really think you've been in my way?" Connor finally asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.  Guin nodded, still facing the window.  "And your leaving will just solve everything?"  The harsh tone of his question made even Connor shudder, and he regretted it deeply when Guin didn't answer, but simply hung her head.  He took a deep breath.  "Do you really want to leave?" he asked, keeping his voice firm but gentle.  Guin shook her head slowly.  "Then why are you?  Or don't you love me anymore?"

"I do love you," she said tearfully, hugging herself tightly.  "But I've done nothing but make you horribly unhappy lately.  I've been too needy, I take too much and give too little.  I sacrificed your love for my work.  Above all, I've just been a burden to you, and I don't want to be in your way."  Guin sniffled, and her voice lowered to a whisper. "And I don't want you to hate me any more than you already do."

Connor's heart ached as he silently walked up behind her, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her close to him.  "I don't hate you, Guin," he whispered in her ear, gazing at their faint reflection in the window as he squeezed her tightly.  "You're not a burden, and you're not in my way.  If you want to stay, then I really would like for you to stay."  He swallowed hard as he closed his eyes.  "Please, Guin, don't go."  Guin remained speechless, but he could feel her sobs even before he heard them.  Gently Connor turned her from the window and pulled her into his warm embrace, where her weeping began in earnest.  "Shhhh," he hushed her quietly, stroking her back.  "It's all right.  I'm right here."  Several long moments went by before either of them spoke again, the only sound that of Guin's sobs.

"I love you, Connor," she finally gasped, her voice muffled by his sweater as she clung to him.  "I do.  I really do..."

"Shhhh," he repeated gently, tightening his hold to stop her shaking.  "I know, my bonny Guin.  I love you too."

"I am so very, very sorry."  Guin took a deep breath.  "And those awful things I said to you, Connor...like accusing you of not loving me enough to get me to stay...I didn't mean them, not any of them, I swear..."

"Shh, I know," he replied softly.  "Me either."

"Forgive me," she whispered.  "Please forgive me."

"I forgive you, if you forgive me."  Connor rested his cheek against her forehead and sighed as she snuggled closer to him.  "I accused you of being cold, but I shouldn't have been so cold to you either.  Not today, and not on the phone lately."

"You know that night...that night when I called the store and hung up when you answered," Guin choked out, "I...I wasn't trying to avoid you.  Not like you think, anyway.  I wasn't even going to leave a message.  I just...I wanted so desperately to hear your voice, Connor, but I just couldn't bear to talk to you because...because I was afraid."

"Afraid?" he asked, puzzled.  "Of what?"

Guin sniffled.  "I was afraid I'd ask to come home."

"Oh Guin," he whispered, stroking her hair gently, "why didn't you?"

"I...I couldn't do that to you, Connor.  I've been so crabby and snappy and moody lately, working all those long hours and having that evaluation hanging over my head.  And then I'd come home and yell and gripe and get angry at anyone who came near me.  And then I'd bawl like a baby."  Guin took a few deep breaths, still trying to control her sobs.  "That's why I left, Connor.  I knew it wouldn't get any better once I actually got into management -- it might even be worse -- and I...I didn't want to put you through that anymore.  You deserve so much better."  Guin sniffled hard.  "I thought by leaving, I'd only be making myself miserable.  That I'd be getting myself out of the way of your happiness."  She blushed.  "That I'd be saving you from me and my temper and my neediness."

Connor pulled back, looking at her quizzically as he pushed the hair out of her face.  "That's really what all of this has been about?" he asked, furrowing his brow.  She nodded solemnly.  Suddenly Connor laughed his staccato laugh, and Guin turned her face up to him, horrified.  He smoothed the wrinkles from her brow.  "Don't look at me like that.  I can't help it if I think it's funny."

"What's funny about it?" she asked, still frowning.

"Because I really thought you were running from me, not from yourself.  I thought that your stress was just an excuse, that all this...stuff had finally chased you off."  Connor turned more serious as he wiped the tears from her face.  "That's why I stopped trying to get you back.  I thought you'd be better off without me."

"Oh, no," Guin replied, aghast.  She stroked his cheek tenderly.  "No, never, Connor.  I'd never leave you because of that."

Connor lowered his voice.  "So it's not the beheadings, the four-and-a-half-century age difference, the lack of physical aging, the not knowing if I'm going to come back when I walk out the door..."

Guin shook her head solemnly.  "No, none of that.  I made the decision to live with that a long time ago, and I haven't changed my mind, as difficult as it is to deal with sometimes.  It's certainly not easy, but it's not a reason to leave.  You didn't really think..."  Guin gazed into his face and touched his cheek again.  "I never even thought that that might be the reason you'd given up on me."  She sighed.  "I just thought I was getting too demanding and you had finally tired of my grouchiness."

"Well," Connor said with a tight smile, "I would rather have tired, moody, cranky Guin than no Guin at all."  He gazed at her lovingly as he brushed away the tears that were still flowing from her eyes.  "I don't want to live without you, Guin.  Not now."  Connor stroked her cheek gently.  "I want to spend all of your days with you, every last one."

"Yeah?" she asked doubtfully, searching his face.  "You really want me to stay?  Even after I've been so terrible?"

"Terrible?" he repeated quizzically.  "No.  Tense, maybe."

Guin laughed bitterly.  "Tense is an understatement.  I'm surprised I haven't had a nervous breakdown.  All that just so I didn't have to mess with job hopping on the work visa..."

"Of course!" Connor interrupted, his face brightening.  "The visa!  That's why you were so intent on doing well in your job."

Guin nodded.  "I gave you up for my visa," she said tearfully.  "And all it got me was more stress."

"Well, stress I can understand, even if I don't agree with how you've dealt with it," he replied.  "You put up with me being that way -- a lot."

"You're not half as bad as me," she said stubbornly.

Connor raised an eyebrow.  "Oh yeah?  Every time I'm challenged, I push you away to focus.  You not only put up with that crap, you still bother to take care of me when it's over."

Guin shook her head solemnly.  "That's different."

"What's different about it?" he asked, turning her chin toward him.  "Just because it's you rather than me?"  Guin looked away, but Connor drew her face back to his.  "The circumstances may be different, but the intent is the same.  We're both just trying to protect the ones we love -- even if it means hurting them."  Connor took her hands into his.  "But I'm not letting you get away again, not if I can help it.  As long as you learn to lean on me a little, rather than ripping me apart."

Tears once again began streaming down Guin's face.  "Connor, I'm so sorry I hurt you."

"Shhh," he admonished softly, pulling her to him again.  "I think you hurt yourself more than you hurt me.  And I think you're more in need of your own forgiveness than mine, because you already have mine.  Now hush."

Guin wiped her face.  "I'm sorry I'm being such a baby.  I don't know why I can't stop crying."

Connor stroked her back as he embraced her.  "It's all right, let it all out.  I'm right here."  He kissed the top of her head as he drew her even closer.  "And neither one of us is going anywhere."

At that moment, Giles walked in.  He looked at the pair, furrowing his brow.  "I take it this means you're not leaving," he said to Guin with a wink.  She shook her head, weakly smiling back.

"No, she's staying right here," Connor replied.

Giles raised an eyebrow.  "Well, I only have one thing to say to that...if you ever put her in straits like this again, I will knock you across the Atlantic, do you hear me?"

"You know it wasn't all his fault, Giles," Guin said protectively.  "It was more mine than his.  And I owe you an apology, for putting you in the middle of all this."

Giles waved his hand.  "I'd rather be in the middle of it than on the outside," he said.  "At least in the middle, I have the chance of doing some good...though it didn't quite work out that way today."

"Between you and John, you did good," Connor answered.  "If we hadn't been trapped in this room first, we wouldn't have come to this point."

"I feel like I sort of caused all this anyway," Giles said a bit sheepishly.

"Caused this?  How?" Guin looked perplexed.

"Well, I put you up for this promotion."

"Just because you recommended me..."

"I didn't just recommend you, Guin.  I specifically requested you be promoted, because I knew there would be a position coming open."

Guin's brow slowly unfurrowed until the shocked look was fully formed on her face.  "You're leaving," she stated bluntly.

Giles nodded.  "I'll be working in London with one of our affiliates.  They gave me a nice offer.  I'm supposed to keep all this quiet until next week, but I owe you an explanation, after all you've been through."

"Well, Giles, now that I've finally come to my senses -- my true senses -- I just have one thing to say to that: I don't want this promotion."

"What?" Connor and Giles exclaimed in unison.

"I don't want it.  Not after what it's done to me.  I didn't want it in the first place, I just didn't know how to say no.  And now that I can really see what it's done to me, and to Connor and to my life, dammit, I do not want it."

Connor stroked her hair.  "Don't be hasty," he said calmly.  "You're very upset right now. Let your emotions settle down a little before you make any decisions about work."

"Connor's right," Giles spoke up.  "The company's been giving this a lot of thought, since our division's been growing so quickly.  And they're thinking of splitting the director's job -- my job -- into two co-directors.  You and Susan are both being looked over carefully, but not for separate positions, like you've thought.  The partners seem to like the way you two work together without bickering, even though she's more conservative and you have more enthusiastic drive.  It would take some of the pressure off of you as a manager, and give you someone to bounce ideas off of.  I think you'd make a great team."  Giles smiled guiltily.  "I wish I could have told you all this before, Guin, it might have made things easier on you.  That's why I wanted to make you two talk it out today -- I was hoping to repair the damage that was my fault in the first place.  I don't know why the company is being so secretive about all this."

Guin nodded slowly.  "All right, I'll give it some more time."

"And let me and John help you de-stress when you need it," Connor said emphatically, pointing a finger at her.  "No more pushing us away."

"Yes sir."  Guin saluted mockingly.  "Speaking of 'us'...where is John?"

Giles spoke up.  "I told him we could handle the rest of the stuff, I think he went outside."  He walked out of the office for a moment, then walked back in.  "Well, there's a baseball going up and down by itself outside the back door," he said with a grin.

"Then there's someone else I have to talk to," Guin said resolutely as she walked out of the room.

John looked up as Guin opened the door, then went back to tossing his ball in the air.  Guin lowered herself onto the step next to him.  "Hey, kiddo," she said softly.

"Hi."  John tossed the ball one last time, then glanced at her sideways.  "You've been crying."

Guin nodded.  "Yeah, I have."

John stared unblinking into the distance.  "So you're leaving now?" he asked, the disappointment weighing down his voice.  "You came out to say goodbye?"

Guin smiled faintly as she put a hand on his shoulder.  "No need for goodbyes if I'm not leaving."

John's head spun around, his eyes wide.  "You're not leaving?" he repeated in disbelief.

Guin shook her head, her smile widening.  "No."  She wiped away the tears forming in her eyes.  "Your dad asked me to stay.  We've talked a little, working out some misunderstandings.  And God knows I don't really want to leave."  Guin put her arm around John's shoulders and hugged him to her.  "I'm sorry, kiddo," she whispered to him as tears streaked her face again.  "I know your dad isn't the only one who got hurt when I decided to leave."

"Well, as long as you're not leaving, I'll forgive you."  John gave her a long, serious look.  "You are sure you're staying?"

Guin laughed as she wiped the tears away.  "Yeah, I'm sure."  She smiled as she ruffled his hair playfully.  "If you think you can put up with me."  John nodded, smiling.

"So are we going to get your stuff or what?" Connor asked with a grin as he opened the back door.

"Oh yeah!" Guin said eagerly.  "Rebecca will be thrilled to get rid of me, I'm sure."

"Guin," Connor warned.

"I know, I know," she said with a wave of her hand.  "I'll stop picking on myself."  Guin smiled.  "You just don't know how glad I am to be moving my stuff back in here."

"Mrow-ow?" an inquiring feline meowed from the bottom step.

"Manders!" Guin exclaimed, reaching out for the cat.  Mandy rubbed up against Guin, purring audibly, before letting Guin pick her up.  "How's my baby?" Guin cooed to the soft black form.

"Mrow!" came the response.  Guin laughed.

"She's missed you too," Connor said quietly.  "I wasn't a good enough substitute."  He knelt by Guin and scratched the cat's head.

"I would think you'd make a fine substitute for me, the way I'd been acting," Guin said softly.

Connor shrugged with a smile.  "Picky cat."

Guin cradled the feline for another few minutes before putting her down, only to have Mandy entangle herself in Guin's legs again.  "Come on, baby," Guin cooed, nudging Mandy with her toe.  "Let's go inside."

Giles met them inside the door.  "Well?"

Guin smiled and nodded to let him know things were all right.  "We want to go get my things from Rebecca's soon."

"I'll stay here with John, we can unload your car while you and Connor are gone."

"You don't have to do that," Guin protested.

"I want to."  Giles offered her a wide smile.  "I want you settled back into this house ASAP, do you hear me?"

Guin laughed.  "Yes sir!"

Rebecca heard the front door open, and wiped her hands on the dish towel.  "Guin," she called as she walked out of the kitchen, "I came home early in case you needed some help..." Rebecca stopped short in the doorway as she caught sight of Connor.

"Hi," Connor said, shifting his feet uncomfortably.

"It's okay, Rebecca," Guin chimed in, entwining her fingers with Connor's.  "In fact, we've come to relieve you of the possessions of your temporary houseguest and put these items back where they belong."

A smile spread across Rebecca's face.  "You're going back?"

Guin nodded as she approached and hugged her friend.  "I owe you, Rebecca.  Both for letting me stay here and for making me come to terms with the damage I caused."

"Your smile is all the payment I need," Rebecca replied.  "I don't think I've seen you smile once since you moved in here."

Guin shook her head as she ended their embrace.  "I don't think I have."  She reached for Connor's hand.  "C'mon, let's get packed up."  Guin led the way down the hall to her room.  Connor glanced around at the sparsely-decorated walls, and Guin noticed his gaze.  "I really didn't feel like making this place homey," she explained.  "I wasn't in the frame of mind to be creative with it."

Connor nodded silently.  The only cluttered area was Guin's nightstand.  Looking down, he fingered the photo of the two of them with John that rested there.  Guin noted what Connor was toying with and blushed.  "I couldn't stand to have that at work," she said quietly.  "But here..." she shrugged.  "Here I could cry without attracting undue attention."

Connor looked over at Guin, a bit stunned.  "You really did miss us." Guin closed her eyes and nodded her head.  "Terribly.  Awfully."

"And you didn't once think about just moving back in?"  He raised an eyebrow accusingly.

"How could I, Connor?  I'd hurt you both with my moodiness, then I hurt you both by leaving in the first place, then after a while I'd pissed you off so thoroughly that you'd never take me back.  Or so I thought, anyway."  Guin gave a grim smile.  "I knew my moodiness wasn't going to go away if I got promoted.  I really thought I was making things better, at least for you.  I was getting out of the way, taking away the source of your pain."

"You were giving us more pain, and you knew it -- I told you that myself."  Connor took the picture and tucked it in one of the boxes Guin had taken down from a shelf in the armoire.

"I wasn't listening," she said quietly, bowing her head.  "Or at least just hearing what I wanted to hear.  I thought you'd get over it soon enough..."

"Get over it soon enough?" Connor repeated heatedly, his volume beginning to rise.  "Get over it soon enough?  You invaded my life, you became someone I could trust and depend on, and you thought I'd get over it soon enough?"  Connor's face began to flush, and his nostrils flared.

"Don't you see, I didn't see myself that way!" she cried.  "All I could see was all the problems and pain I was causing."  Guin put her hand over her mouth and swallowed hard as she closed her eyes.  "I know I was wrong.  Are you happy?  I said it.  I was wrong.  Wrong, wrong, wrong..."  A few tears escaped down Guin's cheeks.  "Even though I really thought I was doing the right thing."

The anger drained from Connor's face.  "Hey," he said gently, stepping up to her and pulling her into his embrace, "don't."  Connor silently cradled Guin for a few moments.  "Let's calm down.  I haven't scared you away, have I?  You're not going to change your mind about coming back, are you?"

Guin shook her head as she leaned into him.  "Not if you still want me," she replied quietly.

"Of course I do."  Connor turned her face up to meet his.  "I love you," he said solemnly.

"Even though I piss you off," she retorted with self-contempt.

Connor shook his head, then rested his forehead against hers.  "Don't I have a right to be just a little angry yet?  It doesn't mean that I hate you for it, you know."

"But I hate me for it," Guin replied painfully.  Connor sighed, then sat down on the bed and pulled her onto his lap, rocking her gently back and forth as he held her tightly.  "I really hurt you, didn't I?"  Guin sniffled.

"It doesn't matter..."

Guin shook her head.  "It does to me."

Connor sighed.  "You are going to have to forgive yourself.  I can't make you do it, and I can't do it for you," he said firmly.  Guin nodded, blushing.  "You can obviously see that the choices you made were wrong, and you feel guilty about it.  But it's over now, let it go."  Connor gave a wry smile.  "If you want me to recount every wonderful thing you've ever done for me, I will try my best to do it.  I'll do anything to help you.  But only you can give yourself your own forgiveness."

Guin looked down at her hands.  "Start making a list," she said with a faint teary smile.  "I might ask you for those recountings later."

"That's my girl."  Connor kissed her temple.  Guin put her arms around his neck, laying her head against his shoulder as Connor embraced her.

Guin sighed.  "I'm sorry I'm acting like such a baby."

"You're acting like someone who hasn't gotten enough sleep.  Or someone on the verge of a nervous breakdown," he corrected her.

"I think I'm past the verge.  And I haven't gotten enough sleep."  Guin gave a brief laugh, then held onto him quietly for a few more moments.  "I don't mean to burden you with my tears, Connor."

"You're not."  Connor wrapped his arms around her tightly.  "I don't want you to hide your feelings from me.  I don't want to miss the chance of really knowing you."

Guin raised her head again to face him, her eyes sparkling.  "I love you, Connor," she whispered.

"I love you too," he replied with a smile.  "Are you okay?"  Guin nodded.  "Are you sure?" Connor asked seriously.  Guin nodded again, releasing a sigh.  "Then shall we finish packing and blow this place?"

"Don't like my house, huh?" Rebecca teased as she appeared in the doorway.  She smiled while gazing at the pair.  "You two are so lovely together."

Guin laughed.  "We try."  She directed a warm smile at Connor.  "And we're going to keep trying."  Guin's smile slowly faded.  "I'm sorry," she told him again.

"No more apologies."  Connor kissed her cheek tenderly.  "I love you."

Rebecca shook her head.  "If I had known he was this good for you, I would have pushed you into facing yourself three weeks ago."

Guin talked Connor into letting her drive as a way to distract herself from her roiling emotions.  From previous experience, Connor knew she was good at handling the Range Rover and didn't mind giving in to her request.  Guin fell into a melancholy silence as she wheeled the vehicle toward home.

"You're awfully quiet," Connor remarked gently.

Guin shrugged.  "Just thinking."  Connor nodded, not wanting to press further.  After a few moments, Guin spoke up again.  "What made you ask, Connor?"

"Ask what?"

Guin frowned.  "Ask me to stay.  Especially after everything that's happened between us lately.  It was the last thing I expected you to do."

"What were you expecting me to do, when I walked back into the office?"  Connor eyed her thoughtfully.

"Dunno.  Bitch at me.  Tell me to get my stuff and get the hell out.  Ask for the keys back.  All of the above."  Guin shrugged.  "I wasn't sure what to expect, since we'd gotten so heated at each other.  I was sort of hoping to arrive at some kind of mutual understanding, that we might at least part on somewhat friendly terms.  But I wasn't expecting you to hold me, and then ask me to stay too.  That tore me apart."

"It was the last straw, wasn't it?" Connor asked quietly.

Guin nodded.  "I was pretty much on the verge when I arrived anyway," she said, biting her lip to avert another onslaught of tears.  "The fight nearly sent me over the edge, but I was still hanging on, staying strong, hurting but still standing.  I could have handled you bitching at me again.  But I wasn't prepared to be loved and forgiven."  Guin twitched her lips.  "You didn't answer me, Connor.  What made you ask?"

Connor shrugged.  "Lots of things."  He looked down at his hands in his lap.  "Rachel called, and gave me a few choice words for letting you go so easily," he began, ticking off the items on his fingers.  "Giles has been trying to get me to talk to you all week, and then his trapping us together today.  And then John gave me a good talking to upstairs after our little argument this afternoon."  Connor paused.  "And then...well, I probably shouldn't tell you this."

"What?" Guin asked quietly, half curious and half afraid.

"When I was in your room to help take some of your things out to the car, I found a couple of your poems on the floor, sticking out from under the bed -- they must have fallen out of your notebook."  Connor shifted in discomfort.  "And I read them."

"Which poems?" she asked evenly.

"You're not angry at me for reading them?"  Connor looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

Guin shook her head.  "Which ones?"

Connor  thought for a moment, trying to remember the titles.  "'Excess' and 'The Challenge.'"

Guin's eyebrows rose, and she shot a surprised glance at him.  "I was contemplating showing 'The Challenge' to you, thinking it might help you understand my mood, since I was having such a hard time explaining myself.  It and the other one must've gotten caught in the shuffle of work on my desktop and ended up on the floor."

"I wish you had shown the poem to me, because it did exactly what you wanted it to do," Connor replied.  "I knew that there was a lot you were holding back from me, but I hadn't bothered to question it -- just as you said, I made my own assumptions.  But when I saw the poems, I knew I had to talk to you."  Connor smiled grimly.  "That's when I knew you never meant to hurt me -- the wounded animal fighting and running from those who would save it."

Guin nodded.  "Trying to protect you both from my pain."

"You're not the only one who's been there, you know."  Connor reached over, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I know."  She caressed his fingers with her cheek.  "I am so sorry..."

"Don't," he interrupted gently, stroking her face.  "The apology isn't necessary."

"But it is.  Instead of staying to work it out, I abandoned you."

"And I was too blind to see what you needed."  Connor shrugged.  "I thought it was all about me, so I let you leave.  And to think you were just trying to protect me..."  Connor shook his head.

Guin sighed.  "Well, I was in part, anyway."

"What do you mean?"  Connor looked at her, puzzled.

"To be honest...well, Rebecca made me face it last night: I was afraid you would reject me for my moody behavior."

"I wouldn't reject you for that," Connor replied quietly.

"Well, with my grumpiness, I was certainly challenging you to love me," she said, sighing again.  "I guess I was afraid you wouldn't live up to the challenge, so I rejected you before you had a chance to reject me."  Guin shook her head.  "I'm the one who screwed everything up."

Connor shook his head.  "We both made mistakes."  He squeezed her shoulder, then brushed his fingers against her cheek again.

"I wasn't facing my highest truth.  I was doing what I always do -- I was running away, rather than facing my consequences.  Rebecca saw right through me last night."  Guin blushed.  "I should have seen it too.  I should have tried to change my moodiness pattern somehow -- meditation, long baths, whatever it took -- rather than running away from the people I was hurting with my behavior."  She fell silent for a few minutes.  "I'm going to need your help if I'm going to change, Connor."

"Whatever you need from me, I'll give you," he promised.

"Even if I need you to smack me upside the head every time I get to be a bitch?"  Guin stared straight ahead, too unnerved to turn toward him.

"Will a frying pan do?" he asked with a grin.  Guin smiled faintly in reply.  More seriously Connor added, "I think fate already hit us both where it counts.  And what you need is for your feelings to be acknowledged, not smacked out of you."

"You're probably right," Guin admitted.  "I just feel horrible that I've taken so much out on you, Connor.  That wasn't right."

"You also apologized every time," Connor replied.  "But you don't remember that, do you?  The only thing you saw was your negative behavior."

Guin nodded.  "And I didn't feel the apologizing made up for the things I did."

"You didn't see it from my perspective," Connor countered.  "The guilt in your face, your voice, your body language...I knew you were tormenting yourself more than enough."

"You were so good to me," Guin replied with a sad smile.  "You tried so hard to give me what I needed..."

"Not hard enough..."

"Yes, hard enough," she protested.  "Everything you could do, under the circumstances.  I wasn't giving you a chance to do any better.  I promise, that will change.  I won't push you away so much, and you won't have to try so damned hard."

Connor nodded, and they lapsed back into silence.  Finally he spoke up again.  "You're allowed to make mistakes, you know."  Guin simply looked at him in puzzlement.  "You expect such perfection from yourself," he continued.  "You don't have to be perfect for me to love you.  You're allowed to cry and scream and have feelings, no matter what I say."

Guin silently reached for his hand, and Connor squeezed her palm.  "I love you, Connor," she said quietly.

Connor brought her fingers to his lips for a brief kiss.  "I love you too."

Soon they were pulling up the drive and heading for the house.  Giles and John were busy playing video games on the computer in the den.  Connor and Guin watched them for a while, the couple's arms wrapped around one another.

"Need any help unloading?" Giles offered when they had finished their game.

Connor shook his head.  "It's not much."  He looked down at Guin.  "I need to run out for some things -- I can take Giles home while I'm at it."  Connor grinned his rare "little boy" grin at Giles.  "Nothing like a winter ride in the Porsche."

"Then John and I will unload my stuff while you're gone."  Guin gazed up at Connor, a touch of sadness in her eyes.  "Hurry back," she added with an embarrassed smile.

Connor kissed her cheek tenderly.  "I will."

Guin finally let go of Connor and reached out to embrace Giles.  "Thanks for coming out here with me.  And for all your efforts to knock some sense into us.  And especially for keeping my spirits up when I thought I was going to lose my job yesterday."

"Lose your job?" Connor repeated incredulously, raising an eyebrow.

Guin blushed.  "I lost my temper with Martinez after having an incredibly bad morning.  He yelled at me, and I let him have it.  I thought for sure he'd fire me over that -- which really scared me -- but he was pretty understanding."  Guin smirked.  "What it got me was forced vacation.  I'm working half-days all next week, then I've got two full weeks after that."  She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.  "What the incident really showed me was just how much I'd given up for my job."  Guin took Connor's hand and put an arm around John, who was now standing beside her.  "Never again," she said sincerely, shaking her head.

"I'll teach Susan as much as I can before I go," Giles told her.  "Although both of you pretty much know my job as it is.  And you'll still have a week to work with me after you come back."

"I'll bring you a few lunches before then," Guin teased.  "I owe them to you."

Giles grinned.  "That you do."  He picked up his overcoat from the sofa.  "I'll see you Monday -- and not a minute sooner.  And I'll be keeping an eye on the clock as to how long you stay then."

Guin laughed.  "No worries," she replied.  "I've learned my lesson on workaholism the hard way."