The village was large for the region, spread out over almost a half mile. Although there were thick trees lining the shore of the river Vistula they became increasingly sparse the farther inland one traveled. The village was only a few hundred feet from the banks of the river. The main square was large enough to hold every villager with room to spare. All of the water used in town came from the river.

       A group of children came running through the square and out into the trees. Darius watched to see if Passah would be with them today. When he didn't see her running along beside her younger brother he started to become concerned. With long strides he covered the distance between the square and her home on the outskirts of the village. Coming closer to the house he saw that the front door was splintered once again. Passah's father Datham was the town drunk and went through front doors like he went through liquor. Knowing that her father's rage was usually directed at Passah, Darius' face reddened. He and Passah had grown up together. Darius had seen her battered too often and now at 20 he hated Datham with more passion than she could ever have mustered. He walked away briskly knowing where he would find her.

       The tree was right on the river with one large branch overhanging the deep waters. He found her sitting where she always did when there had been problems at home. Climbing carefully he wondered how often over the years he had traveled this same path. The climb was easier now that he was taller, but he had made that same climb since he was so short he had to jump to reach the lowest branches. Passah was sitting on the overhanging branch and had her knees tucked to her chest. That she had never fallen in the river was only by the grace of God.

       He came to sit right next to her, their shoulders touching. He let his long legs dangle and rested his hands in his lap. He swept her with a trained eye to see what damage her father had done this time. Her soft blonde hair cascaded down her back and past her waist. She had deep set green eyes and a wide full mouth. Even though there were other girls in the village that would've been considered more beautiful, Darius thought Passah held a quality that none of the others did; spirit. To his mind she was the most beautiful and desirable creature on the planet and he had never even noticed any other woman. He saw a small dark patch of dried blood on her temple and her left eye was turning purple. Once again the familiar anger flooded his system and he clenched his fists. Many times he had wanted to kill her father for his abuse, but she would talk him out of it. She had always accepted this part of her life without complaint. Her strength amazed him. She didn't look at him, just remained staring out at the water. She never talked much about what happened, but that didn't bother Darius. He'd sit here with her until she felt strong enough to return to the village.

       Darius reflected on their history together. They had both been found as babies; he in the year 50AD and she in 52AD. But whereas his adoptive parents, Anathar and Kaylyn, loved him fiercely, hers were cold and indifferent. Datham and Tagra only thought of Passah as their burden, and eventually their indifference turned to rage. Their family homes were side by side and the two had became friends at an early age. As they grew they were constant companions. Knowing that her parents would never pay for lessons, when Darius started learning to read and write he would find Passah afterward and teach her everything he had learned that day. He also taught her the art of fighting with a sword and without. She was a natural and somehow he hoped that she would use her fighting ability against her father, but it never happened.

       She also reflected on the man that sat beside her. She had never understood why he wanted to be with her, but had always been grateful. He was the one person in her life who brought healing instead of hurt. Sitting with him after one of her father's tirades worked as well as any pain relieving salve could have. The pain was bearable when he was there. She knew the time was coming when he would have to pick a wife and that, being the village's most eligible bachelor, he could have any girl he wanted. Knowing that their relationship couldn't continue in the same way after his marriage Passah treasured these times even more. Her parents would never allow her to marry and that was for the best, she thought. Long ago she had given her heart to Darius and she had no desire to take it back. Even if she knew he would never feel the same way she would love him until she died.

       Darius felt her hand slip into his and he looked down at the delicate fingers. His arm went around her and she rested her head on his shoulder so he couldn't see the tears that began to flood her eyes. What would she do without him? Who would she talk to? She wouldn't let herself think about it. She was a Goth and as such it wouldn't do to let him know that she was despairing. After a short fight she managed to suppress the tears that were threatening to overflow.

       "Marry me, Passah," Darius suddenly blurted out. He hadn't meant to ask her right then, but found his heart couldn't hold back anymore.

       "Darius, you can't ask me that," Passah said without emotion. She knew it was ridiculous to even think about the possibility of marriage. She also felt he was asking just to get her out of her bad situation. "My parents would never allow if even if your parents would. You need to make a good match."

       "Passah…" he began.

       "Please Darius," she interrupted, "let's not talk about things that can never be." And with that the discussion was over. Or so she thought. Darius had other plans.

       Passah spent less time at home in the weeks that followed opting to watch her siblings or spend time alone in her tree. She also spent less time with Darius knowing that she needed to break her attachment to him for his sake.

       On the eve of Darius' 21st birthday there was a great celebration. Everyone in the village turned out. Every young lady of eligible age came in their finest, hoping that Darius would notice. That night he was to announce his choice of a wife and they would be married the next morning. He had built a small home close to the trees where they would begin living after the ceremony. He had also been secretly working on two brass rings; one for him and one for his bride.

       Passah remained on the outside of the party trying to avoiding both her father and Darius as much as possible. She didn't have to try hard, Darius was swamped with attention and could barely break away long enough to notice she was there at all.

       When Darius was so make his announcement everyone stood in front of him. Datham stood on one side of Passah and her mother, Tagra, on the other. A hush fell over the crowd as Darius stepped up onto the small stone platform.

       "Darius, son of Anathar, have you made your decision?" The tribal leader asked.

       "I have," Darius replied in his rich voice. He paused briefly before continuing. "I choose Passah." The crowd fell silent.

       "Darius, no!" Passah yelled from her place. What was he doing? It was all wrong.

       "Darius, are you sure?" His father asked him.

       "Father, I have no choice but to choose Passah. My heart has been hers since we were children," Darius answered boldly. "I chose Passah or no one."

       Darius looked directly at Passah and for the first time saw joy reflected. The moment was brief, but Darius vowed it would happen more often.

       "Then you will have no one, Darius," Passah's father called bitterly. "Our daughter is not ever to marry. It was decided long ago." Beside him Passah felt herself wither. For a moment she had felt happiness, but it was gone now. Hopelessness flooded her again.

       "Please sir," Darius said helplessly and walked toward him. "We love each other, please don't deny us happiness."

       "Begging won't help, young man," Datham continued. "There are other girls here that warrant the attention of such a man as you. Ours is not one of them." And with that he started walking out of the square. Passah followed with her head bowed and her mother pushed her along with a rough hand. She was too broken to even cry.

       The silence that followed was broken by the leader once more.

       "Darius, have you another choice?"

       "There is no other choice. I will not take a wife," Darius said with such bitterness that every person in the square felt the chill.

       He walked out of the square in the direction of his new house not bothering to look back. He had the rings in his hand before the front door was even shut. He sat on his bed looking at them for a few moments. He had imagined over and over slipping the ring on Passah's hand and taking his vows. He had taken special pains to find the right size for her ring and it would've been a perfect fit. Now there was nothing. His heart broke and with it his control. The rings flew across the room hitting the opposite wall and falling to the floor.

       Moments later he could be seen striding across the village to Passah's home. It was his choice, not her father's. He had the right to choose any wife of eligible age and he intended to have Passah. Datham came flying out of the house before Darius even had a chance to knock.

       "Get off my land, boy!" he shouted. "You're not welcome here."

       "I'm here for Passah," Darius said dangerously. "You're not going to keep me from her."

       "She doesn't want you," her father said with cruel amusement.

       "PASSAH!?!" Darius shouted into the house. "Please let me see her," he pleaded.

       "You won't find her here," Tagra called angrily. "We threw her out with the rest of the trash!"

       Darius could barely contain his rage. He made a movement toward the man, who fell backwards, and then turned and ran into the night. He ran as fast as he could to the tree knowing she would go there. When he arrived he didn't spot her on the branch and roared her name in frustration. A small sob came from the under brush surrounding the trunk. Passah lay as a bloody heap in the dirt. Darius gently pulled her to his chest and inspected her wounds. She looked bruised from head to toe and blood dripped from her nose and mouth.

       "Let me die," she pleaded in a whisper.

       "You're not going to die," he said to her gently and lifted her into his arms. He whispered softly to her as he carried her the short distance to his house. He left her only briefly to send one of his neighbors to fetch the doctor. When the doctor arrived Darius watched him carefully. Passah's eyes were closed, but she flinched as the doctor probed for wounds. When it was determined that she would be fine with rest and care the doctor left. Darius sat on the side of the bed and a few minutes later his mother arrived. She came swiftly over to the bedside and started to wash Passah's face with warm water and a soft cloth. A few minutes later when Kaylyn looked up from her ministrations Darius was not to be found.

       Datham didn't have a chance to shield his face before Darius' fist flattened his nose. The barrage of powerful blows and kicks that followed left the man nearly unconscious.

       Darius took Datham's face in his hands and said icily, "Passah belongs to me now. If you ever even look at her again I-will-kill-you!" He emphasized each of the last words. Datham saw the murderous look in the younger man's eyes and looked away. Darius let the man's head fall to the hard ground. He stood up, spit on his future father-in-law, and left.

       Passah was now living with Darius' parents until they could be married. She recovered with remarkable speed under Kaylyn's special care. Within a few days the bruises were and small cuts she had were almost gone. Kaylyn had noticed this same speed of healing from her son and was therefore unconcerned.

       Three weeks later when Passah was completely recovered she stood before Darius as they exchanged vows. The brass rings fit perfectly and Passah noticed the intricate carvings. She would ask him later what they meant. He still read better than she did. She felt like her knees would give out as Darius kissed her for the first time.

       Dancing followed and the bride needed no urging to join in. She felt like her life was just beginning and she wanted to enjoy every minute of it. The men sat with the groom on the outside of the dancing circle and watched their women with pride. Passah's long hair swirled around her and she closed her eyes as she twirled.

       Suddenly she ran right into someone. She looked up and saw that her husband was standing in front of her with a look of mock dismay. She giggled and then bowed to him submissively and thought for a second that he would dance with her. Those thoughts fled as she was swung up into his arms and carried out of the circle. The crowd cheered as Darius carried his blushing bride home.

       Once inside the small room he laid Passah gently on the wide bed and stretched out beside her. The fire in the corner gave a soft glow and Passah looked into her new husband's eyes.

       "Thank you," she began.

       "For what?" He asked with a smile.

       "For everything. The ceremony, the dancing, but mostly for my ring. I promise I'll always wear it," she said. "What does it say?"

       "It says 'Darius' forever,' and mine says 'Passah's forever,' he said softly. "I made them weeks ago knowing that you were the only one for me."

       Tears were stinging her eyes and the only thing she could think to do was to kiss him softly. That was all the encouragement he needed.

       Passah stood outside of St. Julien le Pauvre and buried her hands deep in her pockets. She had to know if the Father Darius she had heard of was her Darius. Her feet took her through the gate and up to the large door.

       Darius looked toward the door when it opened. He had been going over some ancient passages of scripture when he had felt the presence of another Immortal. Perhaps Duncan was coming for a visit or possibly a game of chess. But seeing the young woman standing at the door he knew better. Was she an Immortal looking for sanctuary? She looked familiar. Darius got to his feet to greet the stranger, but as he got closer suddenly it occurred to him who was standing, alive, in his church.

       Passah closed the door behind her, but made no move to enter any farther. She recognized him immediately, but at first she didn't think he recognized her. When his mouth fell open a split second later she knew he remembered too.

       Darius found himself unable to speak, but he mouthed her name. Suddenly he felt light-headed and breathless. He stumbled backward a few paces and sat down hard on the altar. His heart thundered in his chest wondering if this was another vision. Only this time it wasn't of Thackery's death, it was of his own dead wife.

       Passah just stared at him. She didn't know how to proceed. Somehow she had never expected him to be alive and now that she knew for sure he was she found she had nothing to say, or rather too much. With a deep breath she slowly made her way to where he was sitting.

       His eyes never left her face and she came closer. The face was unmistakably Passah's, she looked exactly as he saw her last. He experienced the same tingling that he had always felt with her near.

       "Immortal?" he breathed at last. She nodded her answer as she came to where he was and knelt on the floor at his feet. Her skirt billowed out over her legs and she folded her hands in her lap. Their eyes were still glued to each others'.

       She looked exactly the same, except that her hair was much shorter. Still the face was unmistakable.

       Seeing the gray in his hair she found herself wondering how old he had been when he met his first death.

       "I never knew," he said simply.

       "I never told," she said quietly.

       "How did you find me?" he asked for lack of anything else to ask. Too many questions pounded in his brain.

       "I came to Paris two months ago and just yesterday I overheard a conversation where they were talking about a certain Father Darius. So I asked where I could find you and they guided me here," she said with a slow smile.

       He nodded in affirmation, but said nothing more. Seeing her and now being able to hear her voice again was wreaking havoc on his mental faculties. He tried to say something, but no words would form.

       "Darius," she said softly, "tell me what you're thinking."

       "I can't answer that," he said with his slight grin. "There's too much."

       "It's okay, I know the feeling."

       There was an extended silence while Darius pondered the order in which he should ask his questions. Passah waited with infinite patience.

       "You knew I was an Immortal?" he asked finally.

       "I didn't know for sure, but I heard stories of a Goth warrior named Darius who had become a priest and I began to wonder if he was you. Eventually I felt compelled to find out if," she said. "I wasn't sure until I walked in here and saw you. I wasn't even sure that you were still alive after all this time."

       "I had no clue about you being Immortal," he began again.

       "I couldn't come back to tell you," Passah replied.

       Darius didn't reply. Why couldn't he clear his head?

       "Are you angry?" she asked, eyeing him closely.

       "Of course not," he said. "It's what we do; we die, we move on. After you died I tried hard to get myself killed, but it didn't happen for another 12 years." He ran his hands through his slightly grayed hair and was silent again.

       The silence dragged on. With so much to say there didn't seem to be enough words.

       "Darius," she began after an eternity and moved to sit beside him on the altar. "I need to tell you something."

       He looked at her sitting beside him and had a wonderful sense of déjà vu. He smiled in remembrance and waited for her to speak.

       "I came to say thank you," she said.

       "For what?" Darius asked puzzled.

       "For being the one bright spot in my early life," she said in a voice filled with emotion. "Your love and faith in me made it possible for me to make it this far."

       "Passah…" he began to stop her.

       "Darius, you were the only one who showed me love back then. I had courage to face whatever came because I had been Darius' wife."

       "My world became very empty after you died," he said with sincerity and placed his large hand over her delicate one. "I visited your grave constantly just to have something tangible to talk to." A small sob escaped her lips and she clung to his hand. She knew that kind of loneliness well.

       "Please don't cry, Passah," he said.

       She smiled at this. "You always said that," she said with a hiccup.

       "And you always did it anyway," he finished and shook his head. "This seems very familiar, the two of us sitting together talking. Except for the fact that it's 1900 years later and we're sitting on an altar instead of a tree."

       Passah nodded and looked around the room. "I've heard about the work you do," she said. "I'm very proud of you."

       "It has to be done," he said. "There is so much need."

       "Darius, I'm not here to interrupt your work or to try and be your wife again. I know what you do is important and I wouldn't dream of taking you away. I just wanted to say 'thank you' in person. Call it a need for closure, but we never had a chance to say goodbye."

       "It's true, Passah. I'm glad you came," he said knowing that the words sounded hollow and stilted.

       She stood to leave and he followed her lead.

       "I should go now before your people begin to wonder what you're doing with this strange woman," she said slyly.

       He gave her a grin. "Thank you so much for coming. It was good to see you again," he said, again feeling inadequate. There was so much more he wanted to say. The time had been too short.

       "Darius…" she started and then stopped. She looked as if she were going to cry again. Suddenly she leaned close to him and put her arms around his neck. His arms went automatically around her. It just seemed so right. They held each other for no more than an extended moment and then released.

       "I want you to have this," she said and placed a small leather pouch in his hand. "Please don't open it until I'm gone."

       She turned to go and then stopped. She slowly turned back around and brought her hand up to his cheek. Her eyes were filled with tears and overflowed.

       "I loved you so much, Darius," she said in a whisper. 'I still do,' she almost said. And then she ran out the door.

       'Please don't leave me.' His mind screamed. 'I just want to hear your voice for a little while longer. Please don't make me say goodbye so soon.' Darius moved to go after her and then stopped himself. He felt the leather pouch she had given him in his hand and let it distract him from all of the thoughts he was trying to get under control. Pulling apart the strings at the top of the little bag he dumped the contents into his hand.

       Passah's wedding ring fell into his hand.

       He started to shake all over and fell to his knees before the altar, weeping. He stared at the little circle of brass and realized she had been keeping it all these years. Slowly he brought it up to his mouth and kissed it. He closed his eyes remembering their wedding day when he had slipped it on her finger. The only sound that could be heard in the sanctuary were the racking sobs that echoed against the stone walls.

       "Please help me," he pleaded to the ceiling with tears streaming down his face. "I don't know what to do."

       Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod was just washing his lunch dishes when the buzz of another Immortal hit him. His katana was never far away and now with it in his hand he went to the door. He wasn't expecting anyone so he went to the door cautiously. It could be Richie, but he had a key. Why would he knock?

       Mac looked dumbfounded as he opened the door and found Darius standing there. Duncan knew the priest rarely left his parish and the fact that he was here now was worrisome.

       "Darius, what are you doing here?" Mac asked with concern.

       "Just thought I'd visit you for a change," Darius said with a weak smile and without meeting his young friend's eyes.

       "Okay," the Highlander said and let his obviously anxious friend in. What could draw Darius away from his beloved church?

       "How is Tessa?" Darius inquired distractedly.

       "Just fine," Duncan replied and then paused for a second before saying, "Richie's fine too." He watched the priest begin to pace. "Darius, please have a seat and tell me what's bothering you."

       Darius obediently sat on the nearest available piece of furniture and then immediately got up again and resumed pacing. He obviously had something to tell, but didn't know where to begin.

       "I don't know what to do, Duncan," Darius said desperately. "You have more experience in these matters. Please help me."

       'What advice can I give *you,* my wise friend?' MacLeod thought ruefully. "Darius, you're going to have to tell me the problem before I can give you an answer."

       "This morning I had a visitor, an Immortal," Darius began and started fingering a small metallic object in his hand.

       Duncan's heart lurched. It had only been a few months since Grayson's death and now it seemed someone new was threatening Darius.

       "Don't worry Duncan, this is not one that you will have to fight. She's an old friend," Darius said in a rush. "My oldest friend, in fact."

       MacLeod looked thoughtfully at his friend and then sat down and waited for the full story. Once started the story spilled out easily. Darius explained briefly about he and Passah's childhood, courtship and marriage and then he told of her death.

       "I didn't know you'd ever been married." Duncan asked astonished. "So you're saying you never knew she was an Immortal?"

       "Not until she came walking in this morning. I thought she'd died in 85AD."

       "And you really haven't seen her for over 1900 years? How long were you married?"

       "Nearly 15 years. She died before I did and had to leave like all of do," Darius said and then sat on the couch across from his friend.

       "How did it happen?"

       "There was a battle with the Alans. The men left to fight and our village practically unguarded. Our women we strong fighters, but they didn't stand a chance against the number of marauders that came. They burned our village and killed all of the women and children. It was a strategic move to lure us away and then try and ruin our morale by destroying all that we loved. Passah was just another victim that they killed and then dumped in the river. I was devastated and spent the next few years trying to get myself killed so that I could join her. I died 12 years later."

       "And now she's back," Duncan said quietly.

       His old friend nodded and looked at him with pleading eyes. "Please tell me what to do, I can't think anymore"

       "Are you still in love with her?" Mac asked cautiously. Darius' eyes went wide, but he didn't say anything. He hung his head once more and went back to finger the little metal object.

       'So you are,' the Highlander thought. Wanting desperately to help Duncan grabbed onto the first thing he could think of, and it happened to be Darius' own words. "What does your heart tell you?" Duncan asked.

       "I don't know Duncan. I'm not longer in possession of my heart. When Passah left my parish this morning she took it with her," he said mournfully.

       "Is that her ring?" MacLeod asked staring at the tiny circle in Darius' hand.

       "Yes, I made one for her and one for me before our wedding. She returned it to me this morning."

       Noticing the faint carvings on the band Duncan asked, "What does it say?"

       He explained the writing. "I wanted everyone to know that we belonged to each other."

       "Where is yours?" Mac prodded the tortured priest gently.

       Darius slowly drew the cord around his neck out from beneath his robe. Another larger brass ring dangled there on the cord. Duncan had notice the cord before, but it never occurred to him to ask what it signified. Now he gazed at the ring Darius had worn as a husband.

       "You've kept it all these years?" Duncan asked amazed.

       "I wear it two days every year; on our wedding anniversary and on the anniversary of her death. I spend those two days in seclusion and allow myself to miss her," Darius said in a very low tones, each word filled with anguish.

       "For nearly 2000 years you've been doing this? You must've really loved her?"

       "I've been with other women, Duncan, after Passah and before I became a priest, but I've never loved anyone except her," he said with sincerity. "I know that if she hadn't died we would still be together today." There was silence in the room that was broken after once again by Darius who stood up suddenly and resumed the fevered pacing.

       "What would you do if Tessa died and then 2000 years later you found out she was an Immortal and still alive? Would you go to her? Would you spend the rest of your life with her making up for lost time?"

       "I'm not a priest Darius, I have no vows to break," Duncan said.

       "I made my vow to her long before I took my vows as a priest," the older man said quietly and leaned with his shoulder against the wall.

       "Darius, this is a tough decision, but you know I'll be your friend whatever choice you make. And I'm here if you need to talk," Mac said with sincerity. "I wish I knew what to tell you."

       Darius returned to the parish after his conversation with MacLeod. He still wasn't sure what to do.

       Sitting in the front row of chairs he removed the cord that now held both his and Passah's rings and let them fall into his hand. He looked at them for a long time as if trying to find the answer in the two bands. Then he picked up her ring and closed his eyes. Without really realizing it he brought the ring up to his face and ran it over his lips. Unnoticed tears streamed down the priest's face and his hands were shaking.

       "Please forgive me," he whispered to the ceiling.

       Darius slipped his ring onto his finger and left the building.

       His Watcher, Ian Bancroft, followed closely and wondered what could bring Darius back out so late in the evening.

       Darius had made a few discreet inquiries and had found out earlier in the day where Passah was living. Her home was only a few blocks from the parish. Silently he prayed she would be home.

       Passah lay curled up in her bathrobe on her overstuffed couch. The fire burning in the grate was the only light in the room. Her eyes stared unseeing into the flames. It had been a mistake to go to Darius that morning. She repeated that over and over to herself. Now she was completely hooked again and couldn't get him out of her mind. All day long she had gone over their conversation n her head, sometimes repeating the words out loud to herself. And she missed her ring. It had been her constant companion and only source of remembrance for the last 1900 years. She missed the feel of it on her finger or dangling on a chain around her neck.

       Her eyes filled with tears and she let the despair wash over her. It was time to move on with her life, but the future seemed incredibly bleak.

       Darius stood at the end of her driveway staring up at the house. His heart was beating in his chest and he let his feet follow it's rhythm up the path to her door.

       Passah felt the buzz of another Immortal and she moved automatically to where her sword lay. Picking it up she walked toward the door just as she heard a soft knock. Opening the door she found herself suddenly unsteady on her feet.

       "Passah…" Darius said in worried tones as he saw her turn pale. His hand came out to steady her. She felt his warmth and realized that he was really there.

       "Darius, why are you…?" she started to ask and then stopped as she saw his other hand holding something out to her.

       "I had to return this to it's rightful owner," he said and held out her ring. "I know it's wrong, but I can't say goodbye to you."

       Passah thought she was dreaming. Her head felt fuzzy and her throat ached with unreleased sobs.

       "Darius?" she began weakly.

       Without breaking eye contact he slipped the brass band onto her finger. She made a slight movement toward him and it was all the encouragement he needed. Darius kissed his wife with centuries of repressed longing and she was a willing recipient. Passah felt herself lifted into his arms and he shut the front door with his foot.

       "Are you sleeping?" Darius asked his wife softly.

       "No," she answered. She was curled up against him with her head in the crook of his shoulder. Her hand rested on his chest and his arms were holding her close.

       "Why not?"

       "I don't want to fall asleep because I know when I wake up you'll be gone," she said sadly.

       "I have to go back."

       "I know. You aren't safe here and your work is important. I'm just happy to have you here for right now and I don't want to miss a moment." She propped herself so that she could see his face in the dim light.

       "Do you remember that day in the tree when I proposed to you?" he asked.

       "Of course," she replied with a smile. "I remember I turned you down."

       "Yes you did," he confirmed, smiling at her.

       "I remember the second time you asked was in front of the whole village," she continued.

       "Yes," he said. "After you got well, I remember I just told you what was going to happen so you wouldn't argue with me."

       She laughed at this. He had been so determined.

       "I had never been so happy in all my life," she said softly. "Our years together were wonderful. I guess now we know why we never had children."

       "I never wanted children, I just wanted you," he said and punctuated it with a kiss.

       After another few moments of comfortable silence he spoke again. "So if you're not going to sleep, what are you going to do for the next few hours?"

       "I'm going to lie here and enjoy the time we have," she said and snuggled closer.

       Darius made a move and rolled her over so that she was resting against the pillows again. His face was very close to hers.

       "I've got a better idea," he said slyly and kissed her deeply. She giggled.

       A few hours later Passah woke from a light sleep to find Darius dressing.

       "Darius.." she began.

       "I was hoping to be gone before you woke up," he said quietly and came to sit on the side of the bed again. He ran his hand through her considerably messy hair.

       "Can I still come to see you?" she asked quietly.

       "Of course, but this can't happen again. I have to go to confession today," he said with a smirk.

       "I know the feeling. I've corrupted a priest," she said with a wry smile.

       "I came of my own free will. You didn't corrupt me, I'm your husband," he said with honestly.

       "Still?" she asked cautiously.

       "Always," he said in his deep voice and kissed her deeply.

       "I have to go," he moaned against her lips helplessly. Sweet exhaustion swept over him and it would've been very easy to crawl back into bed beside the woman he loved. Knowing that there would be people looking for him within the hour, he pulled himself away.

       Passah rolled onto her side and noticed his crucifix lying on the bed stand. She grabbed it and her robe and ran after him. He was just opening the door when she called to him. She lifted the chain over his head and the cross settled on his chest. He took her hand and kissed its palm.

       "I love you, Darius."

       "I love you, Passah," he said and walked out the door. At 4:30 in the morning and the sky was just beginning it's transformation from black to blue. Passah stood at the door and watched him make his way down the path to the road. He stopped at the end of the driveway and turned to find her watching him. He smiled at her and then blew a kiss before disappearing around the corner. Passah lifted her hand and pretended to catch the kiss and then hugged it to herself.

       Ian Bancroft observed all of this from across the street in his car. He made a few notes into his recorder before driving away. He wanted to make sure Darius made it back safely to his parish.

       Over the next few weeks Darius lost count of how many times he set out for Passah's home and then decided against it. Now that he knew she was alive not being with her was torturous.

       Passah was having the same problem. He was never far away from her thoughts. Sometimes she would drive by his parish and wonder if he would listen to her confessions. It made sense that he should hear them since they would've been mostly about him anyway.

       Finally there came a night early in May that his feet would no longer turn around and he found himself knocking on her door once again.

       "I'm sorry," he began when she opened the door. "I know I said never again, but I just can't help it. I need to be near you if only to hear your voice for a little while. I miss you, Passah." All this spilled out in just a few seconds.

       Relief flooded over Passah as she threw herself into his arms sobbing.

       "I've been so lonely. I've tried to be good, but I just can't get you out of my mind," he continued with his face buried in her neck.

       "I know," Passah said holding him tighter.

       "Please don't send me away," he pleaded. "I don't care what we do I just need to be near you. Please let me stay."

       "I couldn't send you away even if I wanted to," she said with a hiccup.

       Sitting together on her couch holding each other they talked for hours about almost everything; the past, the present, but never the future. Neither of them was ready to say what was in their hearts concerning their future together.

       Time seemed to slow down just for them.

       Passah slept late into the morning and awoke to find Darius gone, but he had left behind three runes on the pillow beside her. Seeing his declaration of lifelong love in the ancient stones she made up her mind to ask him about their future that day.

       Another paper wad hit the wastepaper basket and Darius rubbed his hands over his face in frustration. He just couldn't think of the right words. This place had meant so much to him for so long that there weren't enough words in the world to explain why he had to leave. The decision had been made during the night. Passah meant too much to him and now that he had been given a second chance to spend his life with her he couldn't pass up the opportunity. So there he sat trying to compose his resignation and failing miserably.

       His thoughts wandered back to Passah. How was it that one person could make such a difference? He hadn't even realized how she had completed him until she reappeared and he experience the feeling again. His work was still important, but he knew that he would have to find somewhere to serve that would allow him to be with Passah. They would find a place, maybe they'd start a shelter or travel to a third world country as missionaries. Wherever they went it would be as husband and wife.

       He had just started a new letter when a group of men came walking into the sanctuary.

       Passah arrived at the parish and parked her car along the street. As she pulled up she had observed several men walking through the big front doors of the church. Something in her told her that there was something desperately wrong. Her heart started to pound and she made sure her sword was accessible. She moved with incredible speed and as she entered the sanctuary she felt Darius' presence.

       The men had grabbed Darius from his chair and pushed him to his knees. One held a sword up ready to strike while James Horton supervised the execution. Darius looked up with terror in his eyes as he felt Passah's presence.

       "Passah run!" he shouted just before the sword finished its work.

       "DARIUS!!" she screamed in agony as she saw her lifelong love fall in final death.

       Horton yelled to his men to go after her. Before they could even start toward Passah Darius' Quickening started gathering power. The men scattered and escaped to the anteroom as lamps began exploding.

       Passah couldn't believe what was happening. She didn't want to believe it, but with the Quickening already coming there was no doubt that Darius was dead.

       White fog formed and started pulsing with the power coming from the dead Immortal's body. The pressure in the room became so much that Passah felt her ears popping. She could no longer feel her legs, but the charge in the room kept her on her feet. She screamed as the first of what seemed like hundreds of lightning bolts hit her. Sparks flew from each of her extremities and the chairs around her flew aside.

       In her mind Passah could see images from Darius' perspective. She saw battles, felt the pain of his first death and finally she saw herself. She knew every thought he had ever had about her even his feelings of loss after her death. Again and again the image of him placing the ring on her finger appeared in her mind.

       Now she couldn't feel anything as the power transfer continued on. As the Quickening subsided she felt her knees give out and she crumpled to the floor. She was still to dazed to realize that Darius' murderers had reentered the room.

       "Make sure she doesn't leave here alive," Horton told one of the men and handed him the sword. "Strike now, while she's weakened. I'll expect a full report later." With that the other men left.

       The man with the sword crossed the room quickly. The woman was nearly unconscious, moaning softly. He hesitated just long enough to make sure his aim would be on target. As he lifted the heavy sword above his head he suddenly felt a sharp pain followed by the warm sensation of his own blood.

       Not a moment too soon Passah had regain enough of her senses to grab her own sword and thrust it in the would be murderer's direction. She hit him in the upper chest and made sure the sword did as much damage as possible. The man looked with astonishment at the blade protruding from his chest and let his own blade fall. He was dead before she had a chance to remove her weapon.

       As her own thoughts returned to normal the pain in her heart seared it's way through her whole being. She stumbled to her feet not even giving the dead man a second glance and made her way to where Darius had fallen. Kneeling down beside his body her hands reached out to touch his chest. Even though she longed to see his face one more time she carefully kept her eyes from seeing the damage done further up his body. She said his name over and over again hoping to hear his voice soothing her.

       How long she stayed there she didn't know, but somewhere inside her she heard what sounded like Darius' voice telling her it was time to go. Blessed numbness set in as she walked from the building and out to her car.

       Ian Bancroft watched the woman leave and then came out from his hiding place. He felt sick partially because of the sight of Darius' dead body and partially because he knew it was Horton, a Watcher, who'd done this. He didn't know what he'd do about Horton, but he'd think about that later. Right now he needed to retrieve something from Darius' body.

       Less than a week after his death Darius was cremated. Later that day Duncan would sprinkle his ashes in the river Seine. An amazing number of people turned out to say goodbye to the man who'd brought so much joy. The parish was packed with mortals and Immortals.

       Duncan, Tessa and Richie stood together in one of the front rows. Duncan was having a hard time holding his emotions at bay. The image of Darius laying on the floor in the church still haunted him and had kept him awake since. He would make sure the one who had done this would pay dearly.

       Passah stood at the back of the sanctuary not wanting to be noticed. She also hadn't slept in a week, nor had she cried. She felt like she was betraying him by her lack of emotion, but somehow she just couldn't make herself believe he was gone. She didn't even hear the words as different people stood to give testimonies of what a great man Darius had been. Her mind was replaying with perfect clarity every moment they had spent together. She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall. Why couldn't she cry?

       People left quickly when the service was over. Passah didn't move.

       As Duncan and Tessa made their way to the door, he spotted a small, blonde woman at the back of the church. He knew she was an Immortal and suspected this was the woman Darius had spoken of only a few weeks before. He whispered to Tessa that he would be along in a moment and she and Richie left the building.

       "I'm Duncan MacLeod," he introduced himself and held out his hand.

       "I have no wish to fight, Duncan MacLeod and we're on holy ground," she said wearily.

       "I'm not here to challenge you," he said plainly. "Are you Passah?"

       Her eyes narrowed. "How do you know my name?" She asked.

       "Darius came to me a few weeks ago and told me his wife had returned," he stated plainly.

       "I can't believe he's gone," she said not knowing what else to say to the man before her.

       "I know, it's crazy. No one was even here to get his Quickening," he said, in obvious pain. "All that good is just gone now."

       Passah opened her mouth to tell him that she had been there, but decided against it. Darius would always be with her now and it was enough that she knew it. She started to say something completely different to him when a man walked up and slipped something into her hand. Ian Bancroft exited without any explanation.

       Both Duncan and Passah looked at the soft pouch that was in her hand. Even before opening in she knew what she'd find. The long past due tears began to cascade down her cheeks as Darius' ring fell into her hand. She began to shake uncontrollably and hugged the ring to her aching heart. Duncan pulled her into his arms and she began to sob without reserve. Duncan's own tears joined hers as the two who remembered Darius the best tried to comfort each other.

       A few minutes later Passah slipped Darius' ring onto her thumb and looked at Duncan with watery eyes.

       "Thank you for staying, Duncan," she said softly. They were sitting on the bench at the back of the church now.

       "Glad I could help," he said and smiled. "If you ever need someone to talk to please don't hesitate."

       "Thanks, Duncan, but I've decided to leave Paris," she said. "There is nothing to keep me here now. I don't know where I'll end up, but I won't be back here for a long time. Too many memories." The sadness was threatening to overwhelm her again and her throat tightened. 'What will I do without him?' She though to herself. How was it that one person could make such a difference? She needed to leave here and continue her grieving in private.

       They stood and moved toward the door.

       "It was nice meeting you, Duncan, and thank you again."

       "Any time," he said with sincerity.

       Just before she walked through the door she turned and in a voice ringing with Darius' own she said, "Peace be with you, Duncan MacLeod."

       Duncan joined Tessa and Richie at the car and they all watched as Passah walked away toward her home. Tessa looked at Duncan for answers.

       He would explain what he suspected later, but for now he only said, "As long as she's still alive, Darius will live on."