The café was brimming with people when Methos and Kiris walked in to escape the cold. The smell of coffee and the promise of warmth had beckoned to them from the street. The two oldest Immortals glanced around and spotted a lone empty table near the far wall. Kiris smiled to her husband as he left her at the table to order warm drinks for them both. A few minutes later he sat across from her and took her frozen fingers in his big hands.

       Kiris felt a hand on her knee and thinking it was Methos raised her eyebrows. Then, looking down, was surprised to find a small girl with green eyes and a mass of bright red hair standing by their table. The little child smiled shyly, giggled, and then ran back to her mother's table. The oldest Immortal looked after the beautiful child and found herself smiling wistfully.

       Methos watched his wife's face change from relaxed and happy to deadly serious and troubled within just a few seconds. It was obvious she felt a presence nearby, but he couldn't feel it himself yet. Her eyes went wide and she watched with a look of sheer terror as a big man passed their table. The faint buzz of a pre-Immoral echoed in Methos’ mind.

       "Kiris?" Her husband tried to get her attention. The man had been out of sight for several seconds, but her face continued to register shock. She closed her eyes and put her hand over them and a moment later cried out as if in pain.

       "Richie!!" Everyone in the café fell silent and looked their way, but Kiris stared unseeing at the table. A moment later she blinked several times and rejoined the real world. She looked around, embarrassed, and called apologetically, "I’m sorry, I'm sorry." The patrons went back to their conversations.

       "Are you all right?" Methos asked his shaken wife with concern.

       "That man…" she started to say in a hoarse whisper and then stopped. After a few moments she opened her mouth again, spoke only one word, "Evil," and then suddenly ran for the bathroom. Five minutes later she emerged looking pasty and nauseated. It was obvious that her lunch had been lost.

       Methos abandoned their table and drinks. He helped her into her coat and guided her out the door into the street. She stopped outside the door and gulped several great breaths of the icy air. Her lungs burned from the chill and her eyes watered in pain, but she continued to breathe deeply.

       "You want to tell me what that was all about?"

       She shook her head violently and shuddered. He pulled her roughly into his arms.

       "I have no idea what's the matter, but let’s get out of here," Methos whispered into his wife's ear and kissed her temple. They walked quickly down the street and Kiris clung to him with a grip that would've made a weight lifter cry. She didn't even notice the fact that it was less then ten degrees outside and her coat wasn't buttoned up.

       Once inside their home she made a beeline for the phone and dialed with fast, accurate fingers. When a voice on the other end picked up she relaxed just a little.

       "Hi Rich," she greeted her young friend as casually as she could.

       "Hey Kiris, what's up?"

       "I was just checking up on you and wondering if you'd like to come for dinner."

       "You cooking or is he?"

       "I am."

       "I'm there," Richie stated enthusiastically. "What time?"

       "Sixish, but come as early as you want."

       Methos watched his wife with narrowed eyes during her conversation with their young friend. She hung up, but continued to stare at the phone. She hadn’t even removed her coat.

       "Kiris, what's going on?" he asked in her native language and it caught her attention.

       "Tell me what you felt when that man walked past our table." She still wasn’t looking at him, but he knew she wanted an answer. She was twisting a strand of her floor length hair into a wicked knot.

       "The pre-Immortal?"

       "Yes, but tell me if you felt anything else."

       "I didn’t feel anything else. You’ve met pre-Immortals before, but never with that kind of reaction. And what does Richie have to do with it?"

       "I had a vision. I saw that man take Richie’s head." She walked to where her husband was standing and looked him directly in the eyes and clasped her hands together. "It was just so real for a minute I thought it had already happened."

       Methos pulled her coat from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. "Well, we know he’s all right for now since the guy isn’t even Immortal yet."

       Kiris sighed deeply and then said in a tiny voice, "I need a hug." Her husband was glad to comply. Wrapped in his strong arms she had a hard time remembering why she’d felt so frightened.

       One week later Kiris woke with a start. In her dream she had once again seen Richie lose his head. Methos felt her stiffen beside him and pulled himself out of sleep to find out why. He reached out for her and found that her tiny body was racked with silent sobs. After several minutes the tears stopped and he realized that she had fallen asleep again. With gentle fingers he wiped the tears from her cheeks and ran his lips over her damp forehead. Her mouth was turned down and she hiccuped softly in her sleep. It took him a long time to drift off again and then only with her held securely against his chest.

       "You need to get out of the house," Methos told her later that day. She had woken up at the crack of dawn and had spoken little throughout the day. She had explained about her dream, but refused to talk about it anymore. He left her alone knowing that when she was ready she’d open up. As evening fell though he had started to feel helpless and restless. "Let's go watch the sword fighting competition down at the stadium. Should be good for a laugh."

       "I'm really not in the mood, Methos." She had been sitting on the couch reading the same page of a book for the last hour.

       "Are you in the mood for anything else?" He stood in front of her and leaned over to place a hand on either side of her legs. Their faces were almost touching.

       She leaned toward him automatically, but answered, "No."

       "Well then you might as well come with me. I need the company and you need the distraction." As he announced this he simultaneously pulled her to a standing position.

       Kiris wrinkled her nose and then decided she really did need to get away from her morbid thoughts. She allowed her husband to deposit her coat on her shoulders and push her playfully out the door.

       "Look on the bright side. At least no one will question why we have swords with us," Methos stated brightly. Kiris just smiled and shook her head. Leave it up to him to lift her black mood.

       "I love you, Mr. Pierson."

       "That's what I like to hear!"

       The stadium was packed. The buzz of multiple Immortals hit them both as they entered the stands.

       "Guess we weren't the only ones with this idea," he yelled over the din.

       Kiris closed her eyes for a moment trying to identify the various Immortals present. A second later she grabbed her husband's arm and started dragging him toward one of the lower stands. Duncan and Richie were already seated and there were two seats open directly in back of them.

       "Why are you two here?" Richie called to the two oldest of their kind. Kiris hugged Richie fiercely and then sat directly behind him.

       "Laughs," Methos was being sarcastic as usual and took the seat beside his wife. "You two?"

       "Same," Duncan yelled back. "You gonna jump in the ring and show them a thing or two, old man?"

       "After you." The men were cracking themselves up.

       "As if the testosterone level wasn't high enough in here already," Kiris murmured to herself and rubbed her temples.

       "It’s unfortunate we won't get to see Kent Knudson tonight," Richie interjected. "He was considered the best, but I read in the newspaper that he was mugged last night and is expected to die. Apparently he always gives an exhibition at these events. He was the champion for nearly 10 years before he retired from competition."

       Kiris really wasn't paying attention to what Richie was saying. Her mind was occupied by the sensation of a new Immortal entering the building. The announcer stepped up onto the platform to proclaim the start to the tournament.

       "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Sixteenth Annual Swordsmanship Tournament. We were afraid that this evening we would have to do without our favorite former competitor, but we are happy to announce that Kent Knudson is alive and well and here tonight. Please give him your best round of applause."

       Methos felt a sharp pain on his knee and looked down to find his wife's fingernails digging into his skin. At the same time he felt an Immortal presence and looked around to find it was coming from the man stepping onto the platform. Evidently Kent Knudson *had* died the night before, but today was an Immortal.

       "Thank you everyone. The reports of my death were greatly exaggerated," Knudson was laughing at his own joke. His voice was as grating as it was nasal.

       "Who is that?" Kiris asked through chattering teeth. She was shaking all over.

       "That, my sharp-nailed love, must be Kent Knudson," Methos replied while trying to extricate his knee from her painful grip.

       "Oh no..."

       Methos finally noticed Kiris face. She was ashen.

       "Kiris, you look like you've seen a ghost."

       "That's the man I saw the other day, the pre-Immortal."

       "Looks like the 'pre' part is a bit outdated."

       As the tournament got under way Duncan turned around to make a comment to his oldest friends and found their seats empty.

       Methos hit the door that had just begun to close behind his fleeing wife. Kiris stumbled out into the alley behind the stadium and looked as if she'd vomit again. He leaned up against the wall and watched her gain her bearings. The pacing began at the same time as she started ranting in a language even Methos had a hard time understanding. Her long braid whipped around her calves with every turn she made. He managed to catch only a few words and phrases.

       "He's Immortal now...I can't let him...Richie...have to protect...too good with a sword...I’m so nauseous!"

       He stayed out of her way and didn't make a sound. She continued her ravings for another few minutes before walking over to the steel door they had just exited. She planted her forehead against the cold metal and continued making fists with her hands.

       "Can I help?" he asked cautiously after another few moments.

       "Find some way to get Richie to Holy Ground and keep him there until I can decapitate our newest member," she suggested with irony. She tried the door in front of her, but it had locked behind them. Without thinking about what she was doing she gripped the handle and gave it a sharp jerk. The lock gave way and the door flew open. Kiris looked distractedly at the severed door handle in her hand and then handed it to Methos.

       "Kiris, what do you think you’re ….into vandalism now?" Methos queried sardonically while examining the twisted steel before him in amazement. "Remind me not to upset you."

       "Don't upset me," she growled with no humor and re-entered the stadium.

       Duncan and Richie felt the oldest couple return right before they took their seats again.

       "Where did you two disappear to?" MacLeod asked.

       "Bathroom," Methos responded dryly.

       Kiris watched the competition without really seeing it. Her eyes kept wandering over to the judges’ table where her nemesis sat. The only thing that she let distract her was when Richie would turn and talk to her. She smiled and chatted with him like normal, but when he turned back around her face would once again fall. Mac noticed the change and made a mental note to ask her about it later. Something was disturbing his friend and he had a feeling it was the man who had just joined the ranks of Immortals.

       "Kiris?" Methos interrupted her brooding with his soft call from the doorway. "I have something for you. Close your eyes."

       She sighed deeply and shut her eyes. She heard him walk over to stand in front of her. "Methos, I really…." She stopped mid-sentence as felt something start licking her hand. "That had better not be you," she sputtered between giggles and opened her eyes.

       Methos was kneeling in front of her with the largest St. Bernard puppy she had ever seen.

       "Oh..." was all that Kiris could say as the fifteen pound ball of fur tumbled onto her lap and immediately began removing her makeup with its tongue. She was grinning ear to ear at her husband. "You didn’t have to do this."

       He sat down and put his arm around her. "I just wanted to see you smile again." His voice was low and serious.

       Kiris stared at him and shame flooded over her. For the last three nights they had stayed out until the early morning hours searching the city for Kent Knudson. Methos had driven the car while she stretched her mind out trying to locate the sword master. Now she realized for the first time how much this vision was affecting her life. She gathered the puppy up and put him on the floor. Turning to Methos she took his face in her hands.

       "I'm sorry I've been such a crazy woman lately. This thing is making me nuts. Forgive me?"

       "I'll think about it." He pulled her against him and kissed her temple. "Okay, I've thought about it. I'll forgive you for a really good kiss."

       Kiris smiled again. She reached up and drew his face down to hers. The kiss that followed set records in both passion and length. He pushed her back against the cushions and by the time they were through the two of them were sprawled out and tangled up in each others arms. The puppy sat patiently waiting for attention.

       "Wow.." he gushed when their lips finally parted. "You're forgiven." They were kissing again.

       Pulling her mouth away from his she asked, "What's his name?"

       "Whose name?" he queried, and resumed his favorite pastime.

       Again she had to pull away. "The puppy's."

       "What puppy?"

       "Ha-ha. Did you name him or should I?"

       "You name him. I’ve lost the capacity for rational thought at the moment." He sat up, straightened his sweater and inhaled deeply.

       Kiris stayed where she was against the cushions deep in thought. Finally the puppy couldn't take it any longer and bounded up onto her stomach with a heavy flop.

       "Oof," the 10,000 year old grunted. "How about Tubby?"

       Methos watched with amusement as his wife tried to extricate herself from the overly zealous canine. The dog began chewing the end of Kiris’ braid.

       "Brutus?" she queried and pulled her hair out of its mouth.

       "Too angry," Methos replied.

       "Gilgamesh?"

       "He’s not that ugly!"

       "Zeus?"

       "He’s definitely not that regal. How about Euripides?" Methos tried to be helpful.

       "He’s also not that literate."

       "Rover? Rex? Bear?" He gave it one last try. "Pookie?"

       "Ugh," was the 10,000 year olds only response as she picked up the oversized pup and carried him into the kitchen in search of suitable food.

       Mac came out of the elevator to find Kiris doing a series of kata movements with her eyes shut in concentration. His eye fell to the corner and was surprised to see a large puppy waiting patiently in the corner. Mac watched Kiris for a little while and marveled at her grace. Her arms glistened with perspiration, but she didn't look at all tired. Because she had the unique ability to hide her Immortal presence he had no idea how long she had been there. When the movements finally came to an end the Prime spoke to Mac before opening her eyes.

       "Good afternoon, Mac."

       "How are you, Mrs. Methos?"

       "Hope you don't mind my using your Dojo. I needed to get rid of some energy."

       "Not at all. Do you want to talk about it?" When she declined his offer he tried a different angle. "Would you like to spar for a little while?"

       "I don't think that's a good idea, Mac."

       "Come on, I could use the practice and it’s obvious you could use the distraction." He slipped his shoes off and drew his sword. She looked intently at him for a second and then shrugged. After retrieving her practice sword she met MacLeod in the middle of the room.

       "So I’m assuming that’s your dog." Their swords met several times in succession and he advanced on her.

       "Yup." She gained the ground back and then some.

       "What’s his name?" Mac ducked under her blade, but whirled around to find that she had anticipated the move. Their blades sparked against each other.

       "The jury’s still out on that one." She drew her sword inward and allowed him to advance a little. "Have any suggestions?"

       He thrust forward just as she stepped back and he found her blade at his throat. "Son of Methos?"

       Kiris laughed openly. "Don’t tempt me!" And the duel started again.

       Two hours later they took a break. Mac felt like he’d been put through a car crusher. Kiris, in a similar state, leaned up against the wall and slid down to the floor.

       "I’m too old for this," she managed to get out between ragged breaths.

       "Let’s see, how many times did you beat me? Fifty? Sixty? I’m going to be sore for a month."

       "Sorry, I guess I really needed to get rid of some aggression."

       "So now that you’ve beaten me soundly will you tell me what’s been bugging you?"

       Kiris sighed deeply, leaned her head back and explained about the vision she’d had concerning Richie.

       "Richie can take care of himself. He’s a good fighter."

       "It’s more than that Mac."

       Paris, France May 1794

       Reign of Terror

       A roar went up from the crowd as the guillotine ended another aristocratic life. The body and head were unceremoniously deposited in a plain wooden casket and another empty box was placed in readiness for the next victim. The stream of bodies was endless throughout the day, but in the evening the square was surprisingly quiet. Had it not been for the bloodstained guillotine jutting up from the middle of the Place de la Creve there wouldn't be a single sign of what horrors happened there during the daylight. The crowds started to gather early in the morning jockeying for the best view of the mayhem. By mid morning the people were so thick that the cart carrying the latest round of prisoners could barely make it through. Each victim seemed a shallow version of his or her former selves. Most wore the same clothes they had been arrested in, but the rustle of new fabrics and the smells of well-perfumed necks were now just memories. Dirt and filth marred the beautiful clothing and the only aroma emanating now was one that wouldn't have been tolerated in their stable weeks earlier. The women looked dazed and some cried while the men held their heads high and tried to seem brave.

       Kiris walked on the outside of the crowd not hearing the roar. She had lived through witch-hunts before and they all looked and sounded the same. It amazed her that with all the boastings about how far civilization had come travesties like this one were still condoned. In the nearly 10,000 years she had lived she had witnessed way too much bloodshed and it had changed little throughout time. The Immortal began counting the hours until she would be leaving Paris and the Reign of Terror. She and her student would pose as siblings, Kristine & Damian LaFleur, and board a ship bound for England in only another two days. It couldn't come too soon. Barely three years in to his immortality Damian needed a peaceful place to complete his training and Kiris knew that she would find that in the English countryside. She had just come from visiting her friend Darius. He had bidden her a sad farewell, but understood her reasons for wanting to get her student away from the chaos that reigned over Paris at the moment. It was Darius who had found Damian after he had died his first death and contacted Kiris about training the new Immortal. She had gladly accepted the challenge. She had just begun to feel the familiar restlessness that she knew would take her from her latest home if she didn't find a reason to stay, Damian became that reason. He was bright, cheerful and full of youthful vigor. Kiris had found over time that being in the company of a young Immortal helped to relieve the weariness that millennia brought with it.

       As she exited the square onto street that held her home she felt the buzz of another Immortal and recognized it immediately as Damian. He stepped out of a doorway and looked in her direction. His eyes seemed just the slightest bit vacant and he stared at her with no recognition. Kiris approached him sensing something that she couldn't quite put her finger on. "Damian?"

       He shook his head violently and saw her for what seemed like the first time. "Kristine, I didn't see you there," he murmured with none of his usual exuberance. He didn't know her real name or how old she really was. Only Darius knew the truth.

       "Are you all right?"

       "I ran into another Immortal today."

       Kiris heart began to pound. He didn't seem ready to face another of their kind yet. "And what happened?"

       "We fought. I won." His eyes looked vacant.

       She realized she had been holding her breath and slowly exhaled in relief. "Who was he?"

       "He didn't say."

       "Damian, how do you feel?"

       "Fine." Kiris let the obvious lie go. "Shall we go home?"

       "No, I have some business to attend to now," he replied blandly and started to walk away.

       "I'll see you this evening then."

       He didn't respond and disappeared around the next corner. She stared after him for a few minutes and then turned back around and headed back to the parish.

       "Darius, I've had students who after taking their first head have burst into tears, others who have fallen asleep almost immediately, and a few that were so pumped up they couldn’t see straight, but I've never had one lose their personality completely." The priest had been pleasantly surprised to see Kiris reappear, but now as she began pacing in front of his desk he felt only concern.

       "Kiris, the loss of his innocence could have that effect."

       "There is always that, but something was wrong this time. I don't know how to describe it except that it felt like he was under a shadow. There was no life."

       "Do you know who the other Immortal was?"

       "He didn't say. Do you know of any others in Paris?"

       "A few. Sooner or later they all make their way here. Some challenge me and others ignore me," Darius voice was full of amusement. He hadn't fought for centuries and remained on Holy Ground most of the time. "Most Immortals have left France for now. Guillotines tend to make our kind nervous." He paused for a moment before continuing thoughtfully. "There was one that came a few months ago to offer a challenge. Not a nice man at all. I could make some inquires for you."

       "I would appreciate it, Darius."

       Damian never returned that night. Too anxious to sleep Kiris sat up waiting for him. Her senses were on fire as she searched the streets in her mind for her missing student. When she finally located him she threw her cloak over her shoulders and headed for the now deserted square. She found him sitting on the platform stairs with his head in his hands.

       "Damian?" she called softly.

       He looked up startled. "I really wish I could feel you coming," he commented referring to her unique ability to hide her presence from other Immortals.

       "Tell me what's wrong, Damian," she prodded him gently and came to stand in front of him.

       "I don't really know. I don't feel like myself. I keep having these visions…." His voice trailed off and his were brimming with unshed tears.

       "What kind of visions?"

       "Horrible. Violent." He was shaking. "I can't get them to go away," he whispered helplessly. "Tell me what to do, Kristine. I'm afraid I'm going to hurt someone. I don't want to hurt anybody." Tears slid down his cheeks.

       Kiris was about to speak when she felt the presence of another Immortal. Darius came into view a few hundred feet from where they were sitting. Damian immediately got to his feet and started marching toward the priest with his sword held high.

       "You've come for me, haven't you?" he spat through clenched teeth.

       "Damian, no!" Kiris shouted after him.

       Her words had no effect on her confused student. He began making slow circles around Darius.

       "I'm here to try and help, Damian," the priest's voice was calm.

       "Darius, he's not himself. You should go," Kiris told her friend desperately.

       "I'm strong enough to take you," Damian taunted and raised his sword. Before it could even begin to descend Kiris' sword came up to meet her student's. He turned with wild eyes to his teacher.

       "What's the matter with you, Damian? You know Darius." She spoke as gently as she could while holding his sword at bay. His eyes had clouded over with bloodlust and he continued to try and lower his blade. Kiris let the motionless battle go on for another few seconds and then twisted her blade around his disarming him. Her student's sword went flying.

       As if coming out of his daze Damian turned back around and looked with bewildered eyes from the priest to his teacher. Suddenly he uttered a small whimper and sprinted out of the square.

       Kiris lowered her sword and stared after him. Darius' normally passive face was etched with lines of concern.

       "I came to tell you that Damian may have had a dark Quickening. The Immortal he beheaded was the same one that came to challenge me a few weeks back. He was evil from head to toe."

       "What do I do, Darius?"

       "Pray."

       "Darius and I spent the entire night poring over his book of Watcher files trying to find out more about dark Quickenings and if there was a cure." They were sitting at the bar in Duncan’s apartment now sharing a jug of orange juice.

       "What happened to your student?"

       Kiris’ eyes immediately filled with tears and she shook her head. For a moment he didn’t think she was going to continue with the story, but after a moment she regained her voice and spoke. "He left me a note saying that he couldn't stand living with the visions. I knew he was still in the city and that he was going to try to get himself killed so I went out in search of him. I arrived in the square in time to see him use the guillotine on himself. I think he figured that way no one would get his Quickening and end up with the same problem. But I arrived in time to get it. I felt everything he had been feeling over the last 24 hours of his life; his desperate need to get out from underneath the darkness that had fallen over him, his disgust at what he had become, his fear that he would hurt someone and finally his relief when he'd figured out a solution." She stopped for a moment and then turned to Mac with tears streaming down her face. "I won't let that happen to Richie."

       "I've had a dark Quickening before. If the Knudson is that evil I don't want to chance it," Duncan murmured distractedly trying not to remember the damage he'd done at that time.

       "I'll do it, Mac. I'm too old for one so young to affect me in that way," Kiris told him gently.

       "Be careful, Kiris." His voice was filled with tenderness.

       "You haven't called me anything but Mrs. Methos since I got married," she replied with a gentle smile.

       He chuckled softly.

       "Duncan, I don't want Richie to know about this. I don't want him to think I don't think he's good enough. In fact I think that he and this man would be fairly equally matched. He could win. That’s part of the problem. It’s a lose-lose situation. If Richie wins it could destroy him and if he loses he dies. Neither one of those options appeals to me."

       "I understand," Duncan replied.

       "Where'd the mutt come from?" Joe asked as he tried to get the large puppy to stop sniffing his shoes. It had been following him around since he walked in the door of the Pierson home.

       "Mutt? I don't think so. He's a pure bred, dry-mouth, St. Bernard and I bought him for my wife." Methos handed Joe a beer and leaned down to scratch behind his dog’s ear.

       "You don't strike me as a dog person."

       "Well it was either a dog or a child and I think we're a little old to be first time parents."

       "What's his name?"

       "I don’t know. Last I heard Kiris was trying to decide between Cain or Abel."

       "Cain or Abel? I don’t get it."

       "You know, because we’re Adam and Eve Pierson."

       "Oh man, that’s bad."

       "His name is Incitatus," Kiris called as she entered the room. The puppy immediately stopped his inspection of Joe's shoes and lumbered over to his mistress. Joe gave Methos a withering look.

       "I didn't name him! I swear I didn't know his name until this minute," the 5000 year old sputtered with a look of wide-eyed innocence. Joe looked skeptical. "Kiris, tell him I didn't name the dog."

       "He didn't have anything to do with it. The name just came to me this morning. I think it's perfect. Don't you like it?"

       "It's fine," Joe responded sheepishly.

       "What's wrong with Incitatus?" Kiris missed the inside joke.

       "Never mind," both Joe and Methos replied. "Long story," her husband said and kissed her on the cheek.

       "I came to give you what information the Watchers have on the new guy. So far he's taken at least five heads and he's only been Immortal for two weeks. He's just plain good at fighting." Kiris found her stomach aching at this thought.

       "You won’t tell me where he lives will you?"

       "Kiris, you know I’d do anything to help, but I can’t give you that kind of information. Please don't ask."

       "Sorry Joe," she said slightly embarrassed and kissed her friend on his cheek. "I’ll find him without getting you in trouble."

       Over the next few weeks Kiris tried not to let her concern for Richie rule her life, but she was secretly thrilled when he asked if she would give him some training. This way he could improve his skills and at least for a few hours she could keep an eye on him. They met every other day and on the opposite days she sparred with Duncan or Methos.

       One evening Kiris sat curled up next to her husband on the couch. They had rented an inane movie and were thoroughly enjoying its mind-numbing effects. She had a long grocery list on her lap and he delighted in jerking the couch every time she tried to put pen to paper. Incitatus, who had been banned from all furniture after one too many accidents, sat right in front of Kiris on the floor.

       "Mac’s here," Kiris announced a few moments before the buzz hit Methos. The Highlander knocked as he let himself in.

       "What’s the flick?"

       "So I Married an Ax Murderer."

       "I love that movie," Duncan proclaimed and took a seat in the opposite chair. "Mike Myers does a better Scottish accent than I do."

       "Well, since you’re here to keep him company I think I’ll go grocery shopping," Kiris said brightly and stood up just to lean over again. "You sir," speaking to her husband, "make it very difficult to write, but I love you anyway." And she punctuated her remarks with a short, but promising kiss. She winked at him and called to her sword which immediately leaped into her hand. She deposited it under her coat and was out the door with a flourish. "I’ll be back in an hour or so."

       "That’s the coolest sword," Mac said admiringly.

       Kiris hummed softly to herself as she marked another item from her list. The grocery cart was getting full and she was wishing she’d brought Methos’ truck instead of her tiny car. Her hand was reaching for a bag of lentils when she suddenly felt the telltale buzz of another Immortal. Coming through the doors of the store was the man she’d been trying hard not to think about, but desperately wanted to find. Kiris abandoned her burgeoning shopping cart and watched Kent Knudson grab a pack of cigarettes.

       ‘Times like these make me very glad you can’t feel me unless I want you too,’ she thought to herself and let her hand drift toward her sword hilt.

       Knudson threw a few dollars in the direction of the checkout stand and walked quickly out the automatic doors never knowing that soft blue eyes watched the entire transaction. Kiris followed a few yards behind and climbed in her car two down from his. A few blocks from the store he made a sudden left and pulled into the parking lot of a park. He had seen her. She pulled in beside him.

       "Why are you following me?" he asked in his nasal voice after they both exited their vehicles.

       Kiris didn’t reply instead she slowly drew her sword.

       "In case you don't know. I'm the greatest swordsman in the world."

       "Congratulations." She spoke with no emotion.

       "I just thought I'd warn you before it was too late," he snorted.

       "Thank you."

       "You still want to do this?"

       Kiris brought T'Sigh up level to her opponent's neck and didn't say a word.

       "Why would you want to fight me? You aren’t even Immortal."

       Kiris paused for a moment, shut her eyes and concentrated. The younger an Immortal was the harder it was for her to make her presence known, but it wasn’t impossible. The man reeled and cried out in pain as he felt her full power. For someone who still hadn’t gotten used to the buzz hers was overwhelming. It took him a minute to compose himself.

       "I’m in trouble here, aren’t I?"

       Kiris smiled a wicked smile.

       "So how’s Kiris doing?" Mac asked Methos after the movie ended.

       "Seems to be okay now. She hasn’t had any nightmares in almost two weeks."

       "Maybe it’s because she’s been training so hard. She thoroughly trounced me about fifteen times this afternoon. I’ve never been so sore in my life. I didn’t realize how good she was. A few weeks ago, right after this started, I asked her to spar one afternoon thinking it would be fun to see what she could do. She could've taken my head a dozen different ways if she'd wanted to and she’s gotten better since then." There was no bitterness in Mac’s voice, just admiration.

       "Even when she was out of practice she was good, but now that she's in shape again... Don't feel bad. If it's any consolation she beats me all the time as well. I didn't even realize how strong she was until the night she ripped that steel door open. She's very good at hiding it, but she's very powerful."

       "She'd have to be after 10,000 years."

       Knudson stood breathing hard looking at his opponent. He hadn't even landed one scratch on her and yet he had received what felt like a thousand small, but irritating cuts. She didn't even look winded.

       He thrust forward again desperate to weaken her. She waited just a moment and ducked out of the way landing another small slice to his upper arm. She was toying with him, showing him who she really was.

       Finally she decided it was time to end the torture and with the next opportunity she plunged her blade into his stomach. He grunted and lost his sword. Still he didn’t give up. He glanced around wildly for an escape. The only place to go was the river. Kiris could see that he was going to try and escape and cursed herself for not taking his head sooner. She ran full out after him and caught him just as they both leaped off the edge into the water. She heard two distinct objects hitting the water just before she was plunged into the ice cold liquid. T’Sigh slipped from her hands and sank into the water.

       The Quickening was indeed very short. She felt sick to her stomach and truly wished that someone else could’ve taken his awful power. She rode out the final bolts of lightning while floating on her back. When it was over she continued to let the frigid water wash over her.

       "T’Sigh?" she called weakly. Instantly her sword appeared out of the water and landed on her chest. They floated a few moments longer that way before the Immortal started swimming to shore.

       "There you are!" Methos let relief wash over him. When his wife hadn’t come home from grocery shopping he started pacing and had just now decided to go out in search of her.

       "I lost my keys in the river." She was standing there creating a puddle on the doorstep and looking very unhappy.

       "You're soaking wet and it's freezing outside." He started pulling her toward the bathroom while trying to work her out of her drenched clothing.

       "I'll live. Have you ever taken a Quickening underwater? It's like being electrocuted a thousand times while boiling in oil!" She spat the words out through chattering teeth.

       "Twice," was his only comment. "Would you help me here?" he asked with irritation. She was shivering and hugging herself making it impossible for him to get her heavy, wet sweater over her head.

       "It's not like I'm going to die of pneumonia or hypothermia, Methos."

       "I know, but I'm the one you’re going to snuggle up against tonight and I’m not sleeping beside an ice maiden. Get in the shower."

       "You know, I was born in the Ice Age. So technically you sleep with an ice maiden every night."

       "Technically, but not literally," he laughed, then picked her up and deposited her under the spray.

       "HOT!" she yelled and fumbled for the faucet. After a moment or two she could be heard humming contentedly from the bathroom. Steam billowed from out the door. Another few minutes later she screamed as her husband dumped a glass of cold water over the side of the stall and onto her now warm skin.

       She was totally indignant as she peeked out of the shower stall at her grinning husband.

       "What? I just thought an 'ice maiden' would appreciate that," he said innocently.

       "Just wait until I get out of here, Mister!" she told him in her best you're-in-trouble voice, but couldn't hide her smile.

       Later Kiris, wrapped in a thick robe, sat on the floor against the bed where Methos sat and brushed her long, wet hair.

       "I should cut it off," she said dreamily. She loved it when he did this.

       "You do and I'll grow mine out," he told her knowing how much she hated long hair on men. She had never told Duncan that, but it made Methos smile to think about.

       Kiris fell asleep a few minutes after Methos finished braiding her hair. He tucked the blankets around her and ran his fingers down her cheek. Her face was already flushed with sleep and her husband thought she was the most beautiful creature to ever walk the face of the Earth.

       "Hey, Richie," he spoke in hushed tones into the telephone. "Just wondering if you're free tomorrow evening for dinner…Yeah, I'm cooking…What do you mean you're not free if I'm cooking?.. Very funny. If it makes any difference I was going to order pizza. …She's fine. She took a Quickening this evening and she's sleeping it off right now…Yeah, I'm glad she's okay too…The guy? Nobody you need to worry about—anymore, anyway. She'd love to see you though…Okay see you tomorrow."

       The second oldest Immortal hung up the phone and sat down to update his journal.