Ghosts, Immortals, Things That Go Bump In Night

by Fluffy Cat1

While Duncan visits Connor in New York, Tessalyn is experiencing a few visitors of her own.

Disclaimer: Fluffy Cat does not own or have any right to the characters associated with the Highlander the Series Universe. The original characters Tessalyn and Kattie do belong to Fluffy Cat and she would prefer they were not used without her permission. Fluffy Cat does not profit in any way from writing this story.

Timeline: This story is a sequel to my first Highlander fan fiction titled "Love and Lust, Immortal Style." You don't have to read the first one to enjoy the second, but it might help you to understand why Duncan and Methos have women living with them.

Ghosts, Immortals, and Things That Go Bump In the Night

By Fluffy Cat

"Duncan?"

The Highlander heard Tessalyn's soft voice in the darkness and although he chose not to answer her, it didn't prevent his handsome lips from curving upward just a fraction.

Och, the pretty lass brought laughter back into his soul!

"Duncan?"

She called his name a second time, a bit louder than the first. The Highlander responded to that second inquiry with a shift in position.

He turned his back to her and pretended to snore.

But Tessalyn was a pretty lass not so easily dismissed. Her slender fingers slid around his back and over his ribs to glide through his chest hair.

A soft feminine whisper called to him, her lips pressed close to his ear. "Duncan?"

The Highlander's smile, hidden from her in the darkness, grew by bounds. It appeared this was one night Tessalyn wasn't to be deterred from conversation.

Sighing heavily, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod rolled over into her arms and answered. "Aye, Sweetheart?"

Some nights he won; some nights he lost; but every night he had fun playing the game; Duncan acknowledged silently.

"Are you awake?" She whispered sweetly.

It was dark enough in the loft; she missed the exaggerated roll of his beautiful dark eyes.

"Aye," he replied simply.

"I've been thinking about your trip." She stated in a tone that sounded just as worried as it had for the past three days.

Duncan realized his assurances weren't having the desired effect; that was for bloody sure.

Her fingers twirled his chest hair.

She liked to do that, Duncan mused.

He seriously doubted that Tessalyn understood exactly how much sexual stimulation such a tendency provided him or she probably wouldn't be doing it when she was more focused on a conversation meant to sway his opinion.

He raised his arm, wrapped her in his warm embrace and forced her worried little red head down onto his chest. "Tessalyn, we've discussed this already, Sweetheart."

She kissed his chest and snuggled into his body, her hands still gliding back and forth across his chest. "I know." She admitted in a mumble. "We need to discuss it some more, I fear."

"How much more?" Duncan asked, his lips already curving at the answer he suspected she would give him.

"Until you change your mind." She stated firmly.

He chuckled. "I don't do that very often." He warned her gently.

"It's a sorry trait." It was a softly spoken reply accompanied by a nod.

He chuckled again. The masculine hand buried in her mass of reddish curls pulled her face back so that he might lustily take possession of her sweet lips. "It's a Scottish trait, lass," he rumbled in a sexy burr that warmed her in all the right places.

Unfortunately for Tessalyn, she didn't really need those places warmed again.

What she really needed was for him to change his mind, not make love to her!

Besides, he'd already done that half an hour earlier.

The problem was his mind still appeared to be firmly set on a visit to New York.

"But Duncan, I don't have a good feeling about this trip at all!" She told him for what had to have been the thirtieth time.

He sighed heavily. "I promised an old friend I'd be at this auction, Tessalyn. And it's a good opportunity for me to visit my clansman, Connor."

"I know." She sighed sadly. "But you can make an excuse to your friend and Connor is welcome here anytime he pleases." She offered Duncan her weak argument.

"And my promise?" His eyes watched her tenderly as he covered her lips once more in a light, brief moment of contact.

She couldn't give him an answer, knowing she had no valid answer that made any sense.

She was being ridiculous.

The fact she knew it failed to make a bit of difference though. Tessalyn still had an ominous feeling about his trip.

Duncan read her expression and sought to soothe her fears. "Sweetheart, it's going to be all right. I'm only going to be in New York a few days. You'll be fine here with Richie and Adam and The Elf." His thumb brushed a tear off of her cheek.

She hadn't even known she was crying.

"I know."

He moved to cover her, his knee opening her thighs. "Let's talk about something else, hmm?" He suggested with a knowing smile.

She recognized that smile. It was dark but not so dark she couldn't make out his look; the look of an amorous Scot, accustomed to getting his way when it came to the fairer sex.

"The phrase, 'is that your katana or are you just glad to see me' comes to mind. I have the distinct impression 'talk' isn't exactly what you have on your mind, Duncan?"

He entered her and when she arched her back so that he might penetrate even deeper, he grinned down at her. "We'll talk, Tessalyn," he kissed her, his lips taking deep possession of hers. "You start…..oh, Duncan!" He mimicked her with a light chuckle and a falsely high falsetto.

She slapped at his back, giggling. "Not nice!"

When he pulled all the way out of her and then plunged back in, Tessalyn closed her eyes, drew a deep breath and cried, "Oh, Duncan!"

It was his turn to laugh.

Richie raised the gate to the elevator and stepped off, grinning at Duncan. "Ready? Your chauffeur awaits."

"Almost." Duncan countered, grinning at his student and friend. Patting his pockets, checking for his ticket and then taking a last look around, The Highlander scratched his chin thoughtfully, "seems like there is something I'm forgetting though?"

His warm gaze settled on Tessalyn where she sat in the center of his bed. He grinned wickedly, "Oh, yeah, I forgot to kiss the little woman good-bye."

Richie laughed. "You're slipping, Mac, not like you to forget a lady."

Duncan winked at Richie before strolling over to the bed where his lady sat with her legs crossed; her face freshly scrubbed clean and devoid of all makeup, with her hair pulled up high on her head in Tessalyn's own unique version of Pebbles Flintstone.

"It's easier to remember the ladies that don't pout."

Her pout quickly transformed into an adorable glare.

It made Duncan laugh.

He bent over her and took possession of that mouth, pout and all, demanding that she return his kiss with a fierceness that surprised her. In the three weeks she had been living with him, Duncan had exhibited many moods in his lovemaking, but gentleness in his treatment of her had always been primary, passionate; yes, even aggressive from time to time, but always gentle.

Today his kiss was fierce and demanding.

Tessalyn enjoyed it. But it served as a sharp reminder that the man she had fallen in love with was and always had been a warrior.

"I want you to stay home." She told him when he allowed her a chance to breathe again.

He shook his head, his kind eyes sparkling with admiration. "Your stubbornness on this subject could be viewed as a sorry trait, Tessalyn."

Her pretty chin shot up. "Not by a man who truly loved me." She countered.

"Aye, we're in agreement on that. But only that, today, it seems." He sighed. "I'm going to keep my promise, Tessalyn. I'll call you when I get into New York, and every day after that until I come home, which is only a few days from now." He reminded her gently and in a coaxing voice. "Until then, you have Richie and Adam to turn to if you should need them before I can get back."

"Why won't you stay?" She cried, her voice broken with frustration and fear.

His indulgent smile faded to one of seriousness. "Because I have obligations elsewhere, Tessalyn. There will be times in our lives when I am forced to travel. I'll always return to you." He promised softly before his expression turned sly. "I could turn this around and ask why you refuse to accompany me?" He asked with an uncanny ability to turn the tables on her.

"You know I can't!  I have classes and students I'm obliged to teach." She cried, hurt that he would demand such an unreasonable thing of her.

"Yes." He sat beside her. "And I understand that and won't insist on you coming with me for that very reason." He watched her with centuries of wisdom written on his face.

She dropped her head and the Pebbles hairstyle almost made Duncan chuckle out loud, but he had lived long enough around the female of the species to know better and immediately subdued the impulse.

His face was a mask of sympathy when she looked back up at him. "I'm sorry. I'm being ridiculous and you have every right to yell at me and toss me out on my ear for being such a royal pain."

He kissed her instead, very gently. "The only thing I want to do with your ears is nibble on them, Sweetheart." And he did just that for only a moment, nuzzling her neck afterward affectionately. "And you could never be a pain to me. You bring me nothing but pleasure, Tessalyn; pleasure and love. Now be a good girl and kiss me good-bye in the proper manner." He teased her.

She kissed him.

He smiled back at her, stood and turned toward Richie who was trying his best to flip through a magazine as if he hadn't eavesdropped on one aspect of their conversation. "Richie will take care of you, Tessalyn, if you need anything. You can trust him as much as you trust me."

"Absolutely!" Richie looked up and shouted. "If you need anything, Tessalyn, Mac is right; I'm here for you."

Tessalyn uncrossed her legs and crawled off the king-sized bed. Walking over to Richie, she hugged him, surprising him with the close familiarity in front of Mac and then whispered quietly in his ear. "Just because I don't want him to go doesn't mean I trust you any less, Richie. I know you would protect me with your life."

Touched, Richie wrapped her in his arms and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Tessalyn. That means a lot to me."

MacLeod was frowning when they both turned back to face him. "What did you say to Richie?" He asked curiously, not having heard her words to his student.  His instincts told him it was important.

"Nothing that is any of your business, Duncan MacLeod; it's between Richie and me."

His expression told her he didn't like that one bit.

Tessalyn thought it served him right.

"I'll just ask Richie later on the way to the airport, you know?" He grinned devilishly.

She gave him a smug smile in return. "And Richie will refuse to tell you." She announced confidently.

Richie chuckled, deciding a third party was needed in this little war of wills. "Mac, we better get moving or you'll miss your flight."

"Right." Mac nodded, looking back at Tessalyn with a teasing smile. "Another kiss for the road?"

She crossed her arms and stood her ground. "I've already kissed you good-bye." Her attempt at aloofness wasn't something he had witnessed in her before.

Fascinating, MacLeod thought to himself; a side to Pollyanna he hadn't seen before. It added to the mystery of just what it was that constituted a living, breathing, Pollyanna in today's society.

He tilted his head at her, acknowledging that she wouldn't grant him another ounce of affection since he was leaving against her wishes and carrying his luggage, turned with Richie to the elevators.

Richie lifted the gate and as they both stepped in, Duncan heard Tessalyn's shout as she ran across the hardwood floors, "Wait! Duncan!"

The Highlander decided it was a good thing he possessed quick reflexes, otherwise he might not have been able to drop his luggage in time to catch her when she flew into his arms, looping her arms around his neck and smothering him with the good-bye kiss she had just refused him. "Be careful, Duncan! I love you."

He chuckled, hugging her just as fiercely as he had kissed her. "I love you too, Pollyanna." He teased, swatting her bottom playfully. "Be good for Richie."

She rolled her eyes and stepped off the elevator, allowing him to close the gate and start their descent.

She watched him until he was out of her sight and then she plopped down on his favorite reading chair and proceeded to cry.

Tessalyn awoke from a restless sleep, sitting straight up in Duncan's bed, her heart racing for reasons she failed to understand. Her breath came fast as her heart continued to pound in her chest and she listened to the darkness around her. She heard a soft meow by her side and she knew that whatever had disturbed her had also bothered her cat, MacGregor. She reached for his soft fur and found it bristled in fright. Stroking him in an effort to calm the creature, Tessalyn continued to sit perfectly still in the king-sized bed, listening for any sound.

Her breath floated in front of her.

It was freezing in the loft.

She had told Duncan a hundred times that it was cold enough to snow in there, she reminded herself, trust him not to be there the one night she finally had some proof of that assertion.

Why had the temperature dropped so dramatically?

"Not like MacLeod to leave a beautiful lady in bed by herself. The daft Scot must be slipping."

The voice was English and carried a note of humor to it.

Despite that, Tessalyn felt as if her heart would burst from her chest. She squeezed MacGregor tight enough to warrant a loud feline protest from him.

"Who are you?" She focused on the darkness in front of the bed, trying to see who had invaded Duncan's loft, her loft, she reminded herself. "What do you want? Duncan will be back any moment and he won't like the fact you've broken into his home. He'll hunt you down and kill you if you lay one hand on me." She warned, not certain she was speaking the truth, but sensing there would be some sort of harsh retribution for anyone who harmed her in any fashion.

"Oh, I would imagine so; fortunately for me, I don't have to worry about dire threats to my life. And I doubt if the Stubborn Scot would actually hurt me anyway." The voice replied, gently adding, "not that you have anything to fear from me, milady. I would never hurt a woman so beautiful. Women are to be treasured and adored, protected at all costs. And I daresay a woman belonging to The Highlander would earn my utmost protection."

She still couldn't see him, but asked in a shaky voice. "You call yourself his friend then?"

"Hmm, for several centuries." He chuckled.

An Immortal.

An Immortal had broken into the loft while Duncan was away.

"You are Immortal?" She whispered her fear.

"Oh, my yes, more than most." He laughed and she was finally able to make out his face at the end of her bed. He had a charming smile, was considerably smaller and shorter than Duncan and curly blonde hair covered his head.

He looked utterly harmless.

Tessalyn might be called Pollyanna by those who loved her, but she wasn't so naïve as to believe that just because an Immortal looked harmless, it meant he was. She wasn't safe yet.

"Duncan isn't here." She stated.

"I know that, my dear lady. That's why I am." He smiled at her.

It could be taken as a threat, but Tessalyn didn't sense that he had meant it that way.

"Would you like me to give him a message?" She offered politely, realizing all the while how ridiculous she must look in a skimpy piece of lingerie, holding a battle-scarred cat and asking a man at the end of her bed if he wanted to leave a message.

"That would be most helpful, milady. Tell him he should get his bloody arse home as soon as possible and take care of you."

Tessalyn didn't disagree with that sentiment in the least but she still felt compelled to say, "He doesn't always do what I ask."

"No, he wouldn't. Stubborn streak in him, still, a lady with your obvious beauty and sweet voice should be able to sway the lad, don't you think?" He laughed at her. "I know I wouldn't be able to stay away long if you were to ask for my hasty return."

He bestowed a charming smile on her and bent at the waist. "Good-night, milady. Sweet dreams. Take care of The Highlander for me."

He must have stepped back into the shadows because Tessalyn no longer saw him at the end of the bed. She listened for the sound of the door opening or the elevator being engaged, but all she heard was silence.

The room grew considerably warmer.

Tessalyn didn't sleep the rest of the night. She watched the shadows and worried.

"Tessalyn?"

Duncan's voice was rich and gentle and filled with love for her.

It warmed her in a way that no other man ever could. Then she remembered the night she had just experienced. "You're supposed to get your bloody arse home as soon as possible."

Not exactly Pollyanna's usual pattern of speech, Duncan chuckled and found himself smiling into the phone as he watched Connor clean his sword.

Connor was always cleaning his katana.

Some things never changed.

"My bloody arse?" He chuckled, shaking his head at Connor's surprised and questioning look.

"Yes, your bloody arse. Those were his exact words." Tessalyn commented, plopping down on the bed she wished she were sharing with him.

Duncan's blood ran cold. "Whose words?"

"I don't know." She quipped.

Duncan took a deep breath for patience. "Tessalyn, would you explain what you meant?"

"I had a visitor last night." She told him, pausing for dramatic effect. "Last night when you weren't here." She emphasized.

Duncan swallowed, "go on."

"That's it. I had a visitor in the middle of the night while I was in your bed. He stood at the end of the bed and told me to tell you to get your bloody arse home ASAP."

"What was his name?" Tessalyn sensed the steel in his voice was as strong as the metal he carried in his duster.

"I have no idea." She stated honestly. "He didn't give me his name. He just said he had known you for centuries, he was Immortal, and you were stubborn. Of course, after he told me that, I was fairly certain he really did know you." She added impishly, her sweet lips curving for the first time that day.

MacLeod's lips twitched. "He didn't hurt you." It was a statement not a question because he knew she wouldn't still be irritated with him if she had actually been hurt. That and she wouldn't have waited for him to call her; he would have heard from her last night, or from Richie.

"He scared me to death, popping in like that, but no, he didn't lay a hand on me. He said he would never hurt a lady, not that you can believe everything an Immortal says, I'm learning, but he seemed sincere enough. He also said any lady of yours earned his utmost protection. He did sound like your friend, Duncan, but then he didn't stay and he didn't leave his name, just the message."

Stumped, MacLeod's eyes returned to Connor who had sensed the seriousness in the conversation and was steadily watching his brother. "What did he look like, Tessalyn?"

"Smaller and shorter than you, charming smile, curly blonde hair, English accent."

MacLeod closed his eyes. "Tessalyn?" His voice was soft. "Did Richie or Adam tell you about Fitz?" Shaking his head, MacLeod chuckled in relief. "It won't work."

"What are you talking about?" Tessalyn asked.

"Fitz died, Tessalyn. He couldn't have visited you last night."

Her heart stopped; it took a moment before it started beating again. "He did say he was more Immortal than most." She mumbled softly.

"Tessalyn…" Duncan breathed a sigh of relief. "Stop this, Pollyanna, I know you miss me and I know you've had a bad feeling about this trip from the beginning, but I'm here with my clansman and we're going to the auction today and nothing bad is going to happen to us. Now, you had me going there for a minute and I think I just might have to turn you over my knee when I get home."

"Promise?" She absently teased him, her mind still trying to wrap itself around the information Duncan had just given her about Fitz.

He laughed and leaned back in his chair. "I didn't think Pollyannas lied."

She sighed. "I didn't, Duncan. I saw him. I really did."

She sounded sincere.

MacLeod considered that for a moment. "You dreamed it then, Tessalyn. Fitz died a few years back. You must have heard Richie and I talking about him and incorporated him into your dream. You've been nervous for days about me taking this trip. I don't understand it either, Tessalyn, it's not like you."

"You've only known me for a month, Duncan. But you're right, it's not like me. I think you should come home until I'm more myself." She suggested hopefully.

"Good try." He laughed. "I'll see you in a few days, Sweetheart. And I'll call you this evening after the auction, okay?"

"Okay. You are so stubborn."

"Pot calling the kettle black, I'd say, Sweetheart." He chuckled, hanging up the phone and grinning at his kinsman. "Tessalyn has been worried about me leaving her."

"Women in love tend to do that." Connor remarked in a soft accent.

"Aye." Duncan nodded with a smug look on his face. "Tessa always hated it when I went on a trip and left her. She was always nervous about it."

"Your Tessas share something more in common than just a name, it would seem." Connor sat in the chair opposite of Duncan and gave his brother a quick smile. "Is she as beautiful, Duncan?"

"Aye, Connor, only in a different fashion from Tessa, but her compassion is the same."

"I'm happy for you then, brother." Connor stated honestly.

Duncan eyed his clansman and wearing a sad smile finally stated, "you need to date more, Connor. You couldn't ever replace Heather, but there are women out there who might bring you solace and love."

"And when she dies?" Connor raised his sad eyes up to his friend and clansman. "What then?"

Duncan shook his head, leaned forward with his hands on his knees to emphasize his point. "We grieve. Then we go on, Connor. We live and learn and grow older and start again. You taught me that."

"I guess the teacher is sometimes allowed to forget past lessons, eh?" Connor smiled sadly.

"Aye, Teacher." Duncan answered, before a quick grin covered his face. "But a good pupil will always pop in now and again to make sure the Teacher remembers the important ones."

Connor's expression brightened at Duncan's friendship and his visit. "I'm glad you didn't let your nervous Tessalyn talk you out of coming, Duncan. I've missed you, brother."

Duncan grinned. "Aye, but Connor, my advice when you meet Tessalyn, is not to mention that." He chuckled.

"I had a visitor last night." Tessalyn informed The Elf, better known to others as Kattie, her closest friend.

"Ohhh…spill it! Tall, Dark, Handsome?" Kattie teased as she poured the hot water over Tessalyn's herbal tea bag.

"No, Duncan is still in New York." Tessalyn sighed, swishing her tea bag around in the delicate cup while she waited.

Kattie laughed. "There are other men who are Tall, Dark and Handsome, you know?"

Tessalyn glanced back up at her best friend, her lips curved in appreciation for the comment. "Not for me, I'm afraid."

"Probably not; you do seem made just for him." The Elf admitted. "At least he thinks so." She laughed.

"Not enough to stick around." Tess muttered, feeling sorry for herself.

"Hmm….men sometimes need to step back a bit, Tess. I'm not saying that is what Duncan is doing, but you have to admit, you entered his life, turned it upside down and moved in with him in what some might consider record time." Kattie suggested softly. "Don't get me wrong, he seems positively thrilled with having you with him, I'm just saying a man like him might need a little breathing room, after such a drastic change in lifestyle?"

"I never thought about it like that." Tessalyn mused. "I just assumed he really did need to go to New York to keep a promise and visit his clansman."

"I'm sure he did." Kattie announced firmly. "Forget what I just said. I'm playing psychologist when it isn't necessary. Duncan loves you, Pollyanna. It's obvious to anyone who sees the two of you together. The way he looks at you tells the whole story easy enough."

"Now you're just trying to make me feel better." Tessalyn's expression was rueful. "You may be right. My barging into his life probably is a bit much to handle. He might be regretting it."

The Elf's green eyes grew huge. "Now, don't go and get crazy on me, Tess!  In no way was I suggesting Duncan regretted one minute with you!  That's insane. The man loves you!"

Tessalyn raised doubtful eyes back up to her best friend. "Does he? Or is he just very fond of me and can't bring himself to ask me for a little distance because our relationship moved too fast?"

The Elf decided enough was enough. She smacked Tessalyn upside the head. "Stop that! What is wrong with you! Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod put his claim on you so fast; your head is still spinning! And let's not forget he was the one who had your stuff moved into his loft before you could even turn around and say 'where's the duct tape to seal these boxes?'"

Tessalyn rubbed her head and glared at her best friend. "I wish you would refrain from knocking me in the head whenever it pleases you."

"I don't do it when it pleases me; I do it when you need some sense knocked into you!" The Elf chuckled.

"If you keep it up, I'll suffer so much brain damage I won't ever make any sense." Tessalyn exaggerated, ignoring the snort of laughter it prompted from her friend.

The apartment door opened and a very comfortable looking Immortal, currently using the persona of Adam Pierson, strolled into the kitchen. "Good afternoon, Tessalyn." He nodded to Tess, smiling politely at her.

He opened his refrigerator and removing one beer, flipped the beer cap over the top of the large appliance, cocking his head in a victorious mannerism when he heard it ping.

"What about me?" Kattie frowned up at him. "Don't I warrant a 'good afternoon'?"

Adam smirked at the petite ball of fire standing next to him. "Depends." He answered, keeping a straight face as he leaned down into her beautifully elfish face and asked, "Have you been a good elf today, or a bad elf?" 

The Elf in question rolled her eyes. "I'll make you see stars if you don't give me a proper hello kiss."

Adam cut his eyes back to Tessalyn. "She is such a demanding Elf; fortunately, I have a hardy constitution." And with those words, he scooped the petite spitfire up into his arms and covered her mouth with a kiss that could only be described as lusty.

When Methos had finished tempting her with hints of what their evening was going to entail, he allowed the tiny female to slide down his chest, pelvis and hard erection before her toes touched the linoleum. "What's for supper?" He casually asked, setting her aside and surveying the kitchen for something about to be prepared.

Flustered, The Elf stuttered. "I haven't decided yet."

"Too hard for you?" Adam inquired, his eyes sparkling with suppressed laughter as he tested The Fates and teased her.

"I'm accustomed to hard decisions. I moved in with you, didn't I?" The Elf countered with aplomb.

The oldest known Immortal threw back his head and laughed. "I'm forever grateful, too, Elf." His smile was actually sweet and endearing.

The Elf started to worry. She always started to worry when Methos looked sweet and endearing. 

Methos noticed her expression but only chuckled and turned to their visitor. "So Tessalyn, when is Mac coming home?"

Tessalyn sighed. "I don't know. I thought he would just be gone for a few days, but Kattie has made we wonder if perhaps it might be longer." Ignoring the gasp from her best friend, Tessalyn forged ahead and asked Adam the question she had been trying to avoid thinking about. "You've known him longer than I have, Adam, do you think I've rushed things between us and Duncan has gone to New York so I'll get the hint and move out?"

Methos rolled his eyes in total disgust before turning to his Elf. "What the devil have you done, Elf? MacLeod isn't going to be pleased if he comes home and finds his lady moved out. I'll be lucky to keep him from taking your head if you're responsible."

"Duncan would never hurt Kattie." Tessalyn announced boldly. "And it isn't her fault, Adam. It's a legitimate worry; I did overtake his life rather quickly."

Adam glared at his Elf. "I've never seen MacLeod as happy as he is now, Tessalyn. He went to New York on business and for friendship. His trip had nothing to do with you. Believe me, MacLeod is a Boy Scout, very big on honesty," Adam sighed, a flash of memory coming and going in his ancient eyes, "if he wanted time away from you, he'd come out and tell you that."

"See, Tessalyn," Kattie glared back at Methos, "I told you that wasn't it. Now you've got Adam assuring you the same thing. Everything is okay. You're just feeling insecure because he left so soon in your relationship, but it means nothing. It's just bad timing; that's all, nothing personal."

"We'll see." Tessalyn sighed, sipping her tea.

Adam touched her hand, his fingers gently clasping them for a comforting squeeze. "MacLeod loves you, Tessalyn. Trust me."

The Elf groaned. "Oh great! Anyone with any sense can look into your eyes and tell you can't be trusted. Why didn't you say something else to comfort her?"

 "Tessalyn trusts me, Elf." Adam grinned slyly.

"Tessalyn doesn't sleep with you." Kattie quipped.

"Well, she could if she wanted to; Mac is out of town, now isn't he?" Adam smirked, provoking a burst of laughter from both women. "What? What did I say? I'm serious here." Adam stated with a twinkle in his ancient eyes.

They giggled harder.

"Settle down, Boxer-Boy!" Kattie snickered. "Tessalyn will be sleeping alone in the loft tonight. You're stuck with just me."

Adam wrapped his arms around her waist and nibbled on her ear. "I suppose I'll have to make do then, won't I?"

Sighing at the cute couple, Tessalyn smiled, her lips losing a portion of their cheer when she was reminded of last night. "I just hope I am alone. The last thing I want is another middle of the night visitor."

Adam raised his head and scrutinized MacLeod's lady. "Am I to infer you have already had one previous visitor?"

"Oh yeah, you never did finish telling me who it was." Kattie reminded Tessalyn as she stepped out of Adam's embrace. Finding his hands minus one delicious Elf, Methos wrapped them around the next best thing; his beer.

"According to Duncan, it sounded like Fitz."

"Pardon?" Adam choked.

"He didn't give me his name, he just relayed a message for Duncan, but by my description of him, Duncan concluded it was a friend named Fitz, who apparently died a few years ago, and so I must have been dreaming." Tessalyn shrugged her shoulders. "Duncan didn't seem to buy into the theory I was wide awake and Fitz paid me a ghostly visit."

Adam stared at MacLeod's beautiful new love with a discerning expression.

Tessalyn found herself making a quick excuse and leaving a few minutes later, feeling more than a bit uncomfortable at the unusual looks Adam kept tossing in her direction. It was as if the Immortal were in deep contemplation of the world's most critical events and trying to ascertain exactly what role she might play in them.

Spooky, very spooky, Tessalyn decided. She'd leave Boxer-Boy for Kattie to handle.

Tessalyn stopped by the campus library before returning to the loft that afternoon. She had some additional research she needed to finish and was hoping the text she had requested had arrived. She was cautiously optimistic that it had. Of course the irony of a woman hoping for some good luck when she had entertained a ghostly apparition only the night before wasn't lost on her.

The librarian quickly informed Tessalyn that the specific text had indeed arrived but had unfortunately been placed on the shelf rather than held for her at the desk. Sighing, but keeping her sweet smile in place for the overworked lady, Tessalyn climbed the two flights of stairs to the back section of the remote ends of the library in her mission to worship Mr. Dewey of the Dewey Decimal system in hopes of finding the object of her quest.

Five aisles and several frustrated minutes later, Tessalyn found the volume she desired and in typical historian fashion found herself quickly engrossed in its words. She sank to the floor, leaning against a bookcase while she lost herself in the past.

It was the sudden plummet in temperature that first alerted Tessalyn to the fact she was no longer alone. Her auburn head suddenly shot up and she watched her surprised gasp of breath float before her. "Bloody Hell." She whispered, wincing when she realized her Scottish roots were coming to the foreground.

In more ways than one, she realized with shock fifteen seconds later when the beautiful and somewhat transparent girl appeared in front of her and motioned to her desperately. This ghost wore the Campbell plaid.

The phrase, "who you gonna call?" immediately popped into Tessalyn's shocked brain. Visions of The Ghostbusters running through the library, skidding across the slippery floors appeared briefly in her mind but she managed to quickly dispel them.

Tessalyn's compassion was stirred by the desperation and sadness in the beautiful girl's eyes. Slowly, Duncan's lady managed to stand on wobbly legs and hesitantly walked toward the apparition. "You're Debra Campbell, aren't you?" Tessalyn whispered, seeing the gratitude in the girl's eyes when she spoke to her.

"Let me guess; you have a message for Duncan?" Tessalyn croaked, shaking her own red curls.

They were the same shade as her ancestor's.

The girl sadly shook her head in the negative sense and Tessalyn heard the softly whispered answer, "For you; go to him. He deserves happiness."

Before Tessalyn could begin to question her, she was gone.

The air faintly stirred around her ankles and when Tessalyn closed her eyes, she inhaled the sweet scent of Scottish heather.

"So much for the dreaming theory." Tessalyn announced to the bookshelves.

"Duncan?"

MacLeod's face lit up when he heard Tessalyn's soft voice. "Hi, Sweetheart, still miss me?" He teased.

"What do you think?" Tessalyn countered, grinning when she heard his familiar laugh.

"I think you do miss me," Duncan stated confidently, "especially at night." He added in an intimate tone.

She laughed; a sweet sound to The Highlander's ears. "Duncan MacLeod, you've made love to me as often in the daytime as you have at night."

"Maybe…." He allowed, his accent making her toes tingle. "So you are missing me both day and night." He stated with a masculine chuckle.

"True." Tessalyn admitted, smiling at the loft around her. "How did the auction go?"

"Well, very well."

She knew that meant better than well. He and Connor must have scored some nice stuff.  "And Connor?"

"He's well." Duncan answered. "Enjoying my visit more than he predicted, I suspect."

"I'm glad. I'd like to meet him." Tessalyn told her lover with complete honesty.

"You will; soon." Duncan told her.

"Are you coming home tomorrow?" She tried for a sweet tone, not a demanding one.

"No, Sweetheart. I'd like to stay with Connor for a couple more days; then I'll be home. You can hold out for two more days, can't you?" He teased lightly. "I promise I'll make it up to you when I do return." His sexy voice and the meaning behind his words brought a blush to her skin.

The man was impossible.

How could he make her blush from the opposite coast and over the phone!

"Are you blushing?" He chuckled, knowing full well what shade her beautiful face probably was as she considered exactly how many ways he'd reward her for tolerating his absence.

"Not at all." She lied.

"Pollyanna!" He laughed. "I know better."

"You know it's really not fair that you have four-hundred years of experience with the female sex and I'm just struggling along with only a small fraction of that in dealing with you?"

Duncan grinned and placed both feet on the leather ottoman in front of him. He could just picture her adorable frown as she contemplated the injustice of it all. "Now, Sweetheart, if you think back on it, there are a few perks to sleeping with a man who has more experience than you."

He had a point.

Duncan always had a point, Tessalyn thought with a sigh of acceptance. "Duncan? Are you ever wrong?"

His grin was quick and not as cocky as she might have expected. "Rarely, but sometimes." He admitted. "Not lately though." He teased her.

She laughed. "With Immortals, 'lately' could range from a few years to a century."

"You're learning, Sweetheart. You're learning."

Tessalyn sank into his leather couch and placing one of his pillows in her lap, hugged it close to her. "May I ask you a question and will you answer it honestly, without fear of hurting my feelings?"

His lips curved. "In all honesty, I can't imagine answering any question you ask without taking into account your tender feelings, Sweetheart, but I'll be as honest as I can." He chuckled lightly.

That moral code of a Clan Chieftain's Son, she supposed; Duncan would give her an honest answer.

But did she have the courage to ask him the question; Tessalyn mused?

She took a deep breath and gathered all her courage. "Did you decide to visit Connor because I've barged into your life a little too fast and you needed some time away from me?"

His smile quickly disappeared. Duncan closed his eyes and sadness dominated their dark color when he opened them again. "Have I done that poor of a job of conveying to you exactly how much you mean to me, Tessalyn?" His voice shook with emotion.

Her voice was gentle and understanding. "I know you are fond of me, Duncan, but I did move in rather quickly and maybe it was too soon for you?"

"Fond of you!" He raised his voice. "Fond of you? Tessalyn, I'm fond of pasta. I'm fond of opera. I'm fond of a good morning run. I'm fond of a good book! My feelings for you, Sweetheart, go beyond bloody fond!"

He sounded irritated with her.

For some reason, his anger made Tessalyn smile and feel infinitely better. "Okay, Duncan, I feel better." She confessed.

"You feel better?" He practically shouted the question at her.

"Yes, much better actually."

"Much better?" Duncan asked; his voice incredulous.

She knew he was struggling with understanding her line of reasoning. "Yes, Duncan, I'm now certain I rank above pasta, opera, a morning run and a good novel. Why, in your book that puts me practically on top." She quipped, her spirits much improved. "The only thing I can think of that might rank above me is your sword and your clansman."

He actually growled at her.

She laughed.

"I'm going to put you on top as soon as I get back, Tessalyn, and swordplay will definitely be involved." He threatened in a sexy rumble.

"Promises, promises…just make sure you keep them, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod."

"Have I failed to keep any yet?" He asked her in an arrogant tone.

"Pride is not necessarily viewed by all as a good trait, Duncan." She teased.

He growled again. "It is to the Scots."

"True enough. I better let you go, handsome Scot. I've got a lecture to prepare and I need some sleep. I haven't slept well without you, Duncan."

"Which translates to mean your feet are like ice and my legs aren't there to bear the brunt of it." He chuckled.

"I do miss your cute legs but there are other parts of you I'm fond of just as much." Her blush came and went unmentioned by either party.

"Good." He stated happily. "You are supposed to miss me, Tessalyn." 

"I do." It was a simple but truthful answer.

"Is MacGregor keeping you company?"

Tessalyn knew Duncan got a kick out of her Scottish-named cat. "Aye, he is fulfilling all his clan duties admirably."

That drew another laugh out of him. "I'll see you in a few days, Sweetheart, and I'll call you tomorrow afternoon."

"I have a lecture in the morning and I have to spend the entire afternoon grading papers in my office. You can reach me there, okay?"

"Okay. Sweet dreams, Tessalyn." He said in a sexy and intimate voice.

Tessalyn sighed. "That would be a pleasant change."

"Nightmares?" He asked with concern tinting his accent.

"I'm not sure what to tell you, Duncan. I think this might have to wait a few years, okay?" Tessalyn wanted to kick herself for letting that slip. She chewed on her bottom lip. The last thing she needed was to have Duncan watch her in the same manner Adam had. If she told him she'd been visited by two ghosts from his past, she was pretty certain watching her might entail a bit more than an odd look here and there.

Duncan just might employ several orderlies to watch her on a daily basis. Tessalyn made a face at that unpleasant thought.

"A few years?" He chuckled. "You've had nightmares and you want to wait a few years to discuss them with me?"

"Yes, if you don't mind?" She answered politely.

He grinned, his eyes filled with amusement. "Okay, Sweetheart. You'll let me know when you decide on a year?"

"Yes." She replied seriously.

She frowned at his chuckle.

"Good-night, Sweetheart."

"Good-night, Duncan. Sweet dreams."

"With you in them, what else could they be?" He answered charmingly before hanging up.

Connor stood in the doorway of his private den, watching his brother and friend.

Without looking up, Duncan sighed. "I know you're there, Connor. Come in, my conversation with Tessalyn is finished."

"I know."

"Then sit down." Duncan looked over at him and smiled. "You want to ask about Tessalyn."

"How come you have always been able to read my mind?" Connor chuckled in his light way that always brought a quick grin to Duncan's face.

"That wasn't the question you wanted to ask." The younger Highlander grinned.

"There you go again." Connor waved to Duncan and took a seat on the circular couch, opposite of Duncan.

The two Highlanders faced each other.

Duncan waited for his mentor and brother to ask the question he sensed was coming.

He knew Connor well enough to know he would ask it.

"Duncan, are you sure your Tessalyn is mentally stable?"

"Yes." He stared straight at Connor when he answered. "But I will allow that she has been bothered by something the past few days. But she is most certainly sane."

"You have no doubt?" Connor asked to be certain.

"No doubt." Duncan stated firmly.

"I have only heard your side of the conversations, Duncan, but those have been a wee bit strange." The rare smile made an appearance on the older Highlander's handsome face.

The younger Highlander duplicated it with one of his own. "Aye, a wee bit." He laughed. "I dinna say she was without quirks, Connor. I just claimed she was sane."

She was going insane.

Or already had? That possibility didn't make Tessalyn the least bit happy either.

It really wasn't fair that she should go insane right after she had found Duncan and fallen in love with him.

She batted the injustice of such a synopsis around in her head while she sat in Duncan's bed and waited for the reason she was awake instead of indulging in some badly needed slumber.

The loft was dark. There wasn't a sound out of place. Yet, Tessalyn sensed something in the darkness was waiting.

Her heart was doing double-time. It occurred to her that she must be adjusting to these late night visitations because it wasn't long before her heart rate resumed its normal rhythm.

"I didn't expect a redhead."

The softly spoken words broke the waiting silence in the loft. It was the sophisticated French accent that prepared Tessalyn for what her visitor would look like when she spotted the beautiful blonde watching her from the end of the bed.

Swallowing the huge lump of rising fear in her throat, Tessalyn croaked a greeting. "Hello, Tessa."

The blonde smiled back and tilted her head charmingly. "You know me?" There was that accent again. Tessalyn wondered how on earth Duncan ever raised his voice to this woman, even in the most serious of arguments. For the life of her she couldn't picture him doing it.

Without even thinking, Tessalyn blurted out that very question. "Did Duncan ever yell at you?"

Surprised by the question, the beauty actually started to chuckle. Tessalyn decided even her laugh sounded French and sexy.

"Not often, but he isn't perfect, you know? There were times when he did lose his temper. When he did, I usually yelled back." She confessed with an amused smirk.

"Good for you. His voice is quite loud when he chooses for it to be. A person lacking in courage might find it a bit intimidating." Tessalyn stated.

"Duncan doesn't fall in love with women who lack courage." The softly spoken compliment flew over Tessalyn's head as she stared at the beautiful ghost watching her with such an affectionate demeanor.

"Are you here to give me a message for Duncan?" Tessalyn whispered, wetting her dry lips with her tongue before attempting to ask the question.

"Non." Tessa gave her a sympathetic smile and turned around to survey the loft. "He's kept some things and neatly packed away others, I suppose." 

Tessalyn decided the words were just meant for the air around the ghost, not her, so she remained quiet.

Tessa turned back around and came closer to the bed. "I can't stay long." She commented sadly. "I want you to do something for me. In fact, it's very important for Duncan that you do."

"Okay, but Tessa, I think I should warn you that I'm in all likelihood completely insane and maybe you should get someone else to carry out your request?"

The beautiful ghost laughed. "I like you." She ceased laughing but her smile remained. "Do you make Duncan laugh?"

"All the time." Tessalyn admitted truthfully. "And most of the time I'm not even trying to."

Tessa's expression was gentle. "Then it is very important that you do exactly as I ask."

"I'll try." Tessalyn sighed.

"I know you will." Tessa told her. "The red hair is still a surprise though. I never really caught Duncan admiring redheads all that often. His eye seemed to have more of a weakness for blondes and brunettes as far as I could tell."

"His weakness is for anything female, truth be told. He adores all women." Tessalyn blurted out, clamping her hand over her mouth when she realized Tessa's ghost might take offense at such an observation, finding it uncomplimentary to Duncan.

Tessa didn't take offense but nodded enthusiastically. "I told him the very same thing many times. It's a danger to him, that inability to see that evil sometimes comes in the form of a woman."

The redhead drew a steadying breath. "We're in agreement on that."

Tessa smiled and cocked her head again, very charmingly French, Tessalyn thought. "Oui, at least that, and probably more," her eyes were drawn to the shelves near the bed. "I like my Tessa shelf." She stated simply.

"Duncan needed it, I think." Tessa whispered.

"And you will always try to give Duncan what he needs." It was a statement from Tessa's spirit, not a question. "I must go very soon but before I do, you will give me your promise, oui?"

Tessa's ghost looked so beseechingly at her, Tessalyn found herself nodding quickly. "Oui." She stated firmly. "If it's possible."

Methos heard the ringing beside the bed and muttered an ancient curse on the person who had the misfortune of placing the call. "This had better be good!" He yelled into the receiver.

"Hello, Adam."  It was Tessalyn's sweet voice.

"Tessalyn? What's wrong?" Methos sat up with a wide-awake alertness that spoke of centuries of experience.

"Wrong?" Tessalyn asked.

Methos ran his hand down his face and shook the cobwebs out of his brain. "Yes, wrong." He stated with an edge to his words. "Is MacLeod in trouble?"

Alarmed, Tessalyn's heart skipped a beat. "I don't know! Do you think he is? Have you heard something I haven't? Did Joe call and tell you something?"

Methos fell back against his pillow. "Tessalyn, I haven't heard a bloody thing about MacLeod. It's 3:15 in the morning. Is there a reason you called other than to irritate me?"

"Yes," she sighed, "if you don't mind; may I please speak to Kattie?"

"The Elf is sleeping. She's tired." Methos responded in a petulant tone.

Tessalyn heard some fumbling around near the receiver and then the voice of her very best friend came on the line. "What the fuck are you doing, calling me in the middle of the night?"

Accustomed to Kattie's vocabulary when she was awakened abruptly, Tessalyn allowed the less than loving greeting fly by without comment. "I didn't want you to worry about me, Kattie, so I decided to call you."

"Did you think I was worried about you at 3:15 in the morning? I've got to tell you, Pollyanna, I love you like my own sister, but you rarely enter my mind in the middle of the night, especially now that I've got Boxer-Boy to keep me company."

Tessalyn heard the aforementioned male chuckle in the background. "Okay, okay, I get it. Neither one of you is happy with me. But I need you to do me a favor, okay?"

"What sort of favor?" Kattie mumbled, settling back against the handsome male body wrapping around her. She felt his erection and started to grin. His hands were already stripping her out of her pajama bottoms.

He was damned quick about it too.

Thousands of years of practice, she supposed. It was difficult but she tried to focus on what Tessalyn was saying to her while Boxer-Boy cupped one of her breasts and began nibbling on her throat. "Tell her to hang up, Elf." He growled sexily.

Tessalyn heard the order and knew that if Boxer-Boy were anything like Duncan and she strongly suspected he might be, then Kattie was about to be thoroughly ravished.

She had better hurry.

"Kattie, I'll let you go, just promise me you'll take over my lecture in the morning, okay?"

"Lecture? Your 9 o'clock?" Kattie mumbled.

"Yes. I'll call you from New York." Tessalyn told her, hanging up.

Methos covered his Elf, "she wants you to teach her class in the morning?"

"Apparently." Kattie replied, arching into his sleek muscular body.

"Then we had better hurry so you can get some sleep, Elf."  He laughed as his head dipped downward, kissing both breasts before traveling further south. His tongue dipped into her navel and Kattie giggled as he tickled her.

Looking up at her, his sexy smirk only fueled her desire. "Too ticklish, Elf? Hmm….I'll have to explore a bit further then, won't I?"

"God, I hope so." The Elf sighed.

"Richie?"

Richie Ryan shot straight up in bed. "Tessalyn! What's wrong? Are you all right?"

"Depends, I suppose, on your viewpoint of what is all right."

Richie dragged a hand down over his sleepy face. "Are you hurt? Do you need me?"

Tessalyn smiled softly, offering a silent prayer of thanks that when she fell in love with Duncan, she inherited the protection of all of his friends; Immortal friends, definitely a hardier breed than most friends you ran across.

"I'm fine, Richie."

Did insanity qualify as fine, she wondered?

"You're fine." Duncan's young student repeated. "Okay, Tessalyn. Was there a reason you called me in the middle of the night?"

Tessalyn thought Richie's tone sounded much nicer than Adam's. "You don't sound nearly as irritated with me as Adam did, Richie. I appreciate that." She told him sweetly.

Chuckling, Richie collapsed back onto his mattress and grinned at the ceiling. "I bet. I'm younger and don't need as much beauty sleep as he does."

"Richie, I am sorry I woke you; but I didn't want you to check on me tomorrow and worry."

Alarmed, Richie frowned. "Why? What are you planning, Tessalyn? And let me tell you right now that Mac isn't going to be fond of anything you decide on doing that includes a middle of the night phone call to me or Methos."

Tessalyn smiled to herself. Richie really was sleepy. He had just revealed Adam's true identity to her. She wasn't supposed to know that just yet, if ever. Kattie, Adam, Duncan and Richie had all kept her in gloomy darkness on that little matter.

Not that they had succeeded. Tessalyn had figured out Adam was Methos by the time Kattie had moved in with him. Still, they made sure never to slip up in front of her.

She allowed the slip to pass, pretending she didn't catch it. "Adam was less than pleased but I needed Kattie for a favor and I didn't want them to worry either."

"What are you doing, Tess?"  Richie asked; his voice carried a mixture of humor and reprimand.

Her lips curved again. Richie had shortened her name from Tessalyn to Tess only once before, but that instance had carried a certain affectionate tone to it as well. She remembered that Duncan had overheard it and other than a sad smile, had not commented.

"I'm catching a very early flight to New York, of course. That stubborn Scot you call friend and mentor is being very difficult and won't come home to me, so this mountain is coming to him." She gave a short laugh.

Richie grinned. "Yeah, Mac can be a little stubborn from time to time."

"I wanted you to know where I was so you wouldn't think I had gone missing. I plan to take a taxi to the airport. I don't want to leave the T-bird in the lot for fear it might get stolen." She chuckled and then half-serious added, "I'm not sure our relationship could withstand Duncan's wrath if I lost his car."

Amused, Richie couldn't resist asking, "and you have witnessed Duncan's wrath when?"

Thrown by the question, Tessalyn answered honestly, "well…never. And I don't intend to start now either."

"Bright girl." Richie laughed again. "Tessalyn, I'll drive you to the airport. I took Mac. It's a sure bet I'm not going to allow a beautiful woman like you go by herself."

"Flirt." Tessalyn chuckled. "You don't have to, Richie. I need to be there by 5:30 if I'm going to catch my early flight."

"God." He groaned, looked at the clock and groaned a second time. "Let me shower and I'll be by the loft in a few minutes."

"Thank you, Richie. You are such a sweetheart."

"The same can be said about you, Tessalyn." Richie acknowledged. "See you in a few." He hung up and stumbled into the bathroom to shower.

Tessalyn was dressed in a pair of casual tan slacks and a cream-colored sweater that accented her soft features and complimented her auburn hair. She wore that shiny hair pulled up in a loose sweep that left curls to frame her lovely face.

Richie lifted the elevator gate and stepped off, finding Tessalyn standing in front of the Tessa Shelf, admiring the sculpture of Duncan that the other Tessa had created. "Mademoiselle, your carriage awaits."  He told her with a low bow and a gallant flourish of his arms.

"Thank you, kind Sir." Tessalyn responded, strolling over to him and bestowing a kiss on his cheek. "Let's stop and get chocolate-covered donuts on the way?" She suggested, handing him her heaviest piece of luggage while holding onto her feminine briefcase.

"Sounds good, you do know that if this thing with Mac doesn't work out, I could fall for a beautiful woman who likes chocolate-covered donuts?" He teased.

"Feed MacGregor and love on him while I'm gone and I'll try to remember that." She quipped.

"Deal." He chuckled, turning to the elevator and placing her luggage in it. He suddenly stopped and Tessalyn noticed a strange look cross his face.

"What is it, Richie?" She asked in concern.

He shook off the feeling, offering her a weak smile. "Nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing to me." She commented softly. "You can tell me, you know, if something is wrong?"

"It's crazy." Richie laughed uneasily. "Forget it."

"Crazy, huh? Well, Richie, I'm your girl if you want to talk crazy, at least I have been these past few days."

Richie debated a minute before giving her a sheepish look. "It was just for a moment, after I put your luggage on the elevator and stepped back over here, I thought…." He shook his head dismissingly. "Forget it….it's not worth mentioning."

Tessalyn placed her hand on his chest, gently, as if to demonstrate to him she wouldn't pry but he should trust her. "What?"

His eyes filled with tears. "I could have sworn I smelled Tessa's perfume." He shook his head and laughed uneasily. "It's gone now and I know you don't wear it. It's a special fragrance Mac had made in Paris just for her. She always wore it. It's been so long I can't believe I remembered the scent. But suddenly, I did."

"I see." Tessalyn wrapped her arms around him. "Maybe Tessa wanted you to remember her?"

"I'll never forget Tess." Richie vowed softly.

"I know."  She answered gently. "She makes an impression." She added softly under her breath.

Richie gave her a strange look before grinning broadly at her. "It's a little early for both of us, Tessalyn. We should get chocolate and head to the airport."

She nodded and turned to the sleeping cat in the center of Duncan's bed. "Bye, MacGregor. Be a good cat."

Richie grinned. "Mac swears that cat is always either in your arms or on top of you. You wouldn't know it to see him now. He's ignoring you."

"MacGregor is a smart cat. Cats believe in the importance of a good long nap. MacGregor doesn't believe in extremely early good-byes."

Richie chuckled. "Let's go then."

Tessalyn paid the cabdriver and stepped onto the New York sidewalk, her eyes drawn to the building in front of her. This was it; Connor's place.

The sign on the front mentioned antiques and a proprietor by the name of Russell Nash.

Tessalyn hoped Connor turned out to be a warm and receptive host to unexpected guests. Pollyanna sensed he might be.

Her heart felt lighter.

Duncan was here.

She took a deep breath, dragged her luggage behind her and entered the store. The interior spoke of first class all the way, she noted. Elegance and subtle grace surrounded everything. The historian in her felt right at home and Tessalyn found herself fighting the urge to plop down right in the middle of the store, on the plush twenty-five-thousand dollar rug in the center and just stare at the lovely pieces of history all around her.

She won that battle. It just didn't seem a lady-like thing to do all in all, she decided with a warped sense of humor. She wanted to make a good impression on Duncan's brother and clansman; she suspected Connor finding her sprawled in the middle of his store might not have that desired effect, she mused.

Sighing as she stepped past the soft rug and ignoring her inclinations, Tessalyn glanced up in time to spot a lovely middle-aged lady approaching her. She had a beautiful smile, kind eyes, and blonde hair that Tessalyn suspected needed a little help remaining its original color.

"Hello. May I help you find something?"

Tessalyn flashed the lady a radiant smile. "I hope so. I've come a long way if you can't."

"I'm sure we can accommodate your needs. If you don't find something of interest in the store at present, we can most likely secure it for you soon enough. Mr. Nash has a way of locating the finest pieces."

"Good. I'd like to locate Mr. Nash, if I may?" Tessalyn answered with a quick grin.

The woman lost a portion of her smile. "Mr. Nash rarely deals with the customers. I usually handle the front end of his business."

      "Oh." Tessalyn was surprised. "Well, you see I believe he has something I want." Her lips curved a fraction. "At least I've been led to believe he does."

"Mr. Nash informs me when someone is coming by to pick up a special item."

Tessalyn watched the lady carefully. "Are you Rachel?"

Oh, she was a cool one, Tessalyn decided. She only showed a moment's hesitation. "Yes, I am Rachel and I run this business for Mr. Nash."

"Well, maybe you know the special item Mr. Nash is keeping that I wish to see? I could offer you a description and if you have anything like that around here, perhaps you could arrange for me to see it?" Tessalyn paused for a moment as if composing her description. "Let's see…Tall, Dark, Handsome, definitely male, a finely sculpted piece but extremely stubborn; often speaks with a diluted Scottish accent that will melt your heart and weaken a woman's knees. This particular piece is often known to carry a killer smile, among other things. It's an old piece; circa Late Celtic Period, I believe."

Rachel watched the laughter dance in the pretty redhead's eyes and couldn't conceal her own grin or amusement. "We have two old pieces from that period that meet most of your criteria, but only one of them could be described as dark; unless you were referring to mood rather than physical appearance?"  She quipped wryly.

Tessalyn giggled. "No, I meant dark hair, ponytail most days, usually held in place with a band carrying a Celtic design."

"Tessalyn?" Rachel inquired.

"Yes." The redhead nodded. "It's nice to meet you, Rachel." Tessalyn gave Rachel a warm smile and held out her hand.

"I should have known who you were when you walked in. You fit Duncan's description perfectly. I suppose it was the fact we weren't expecting you that kept me from realizing it was you. Duncan said you weren't able to come with him."

"Well, people kept popping in telling me I should have, so I finally agreed." Tessalyn admitted with an odd chuckle. "Are they here?" She asked eagerly.

Nodding, Rachel laughed. "Upstairs, trying to kill each other, of course." She leaned in to whisper. "That's all those boys ever do when they get together." She informed Tessalyn while indicating that she should follow her to the stairs. "They embrace each other in a masculine, Scottish hug befitting a clansman, I suppose; then they try to kill each other with those damn katanas they carry."

Tessalyn laughed. "Whatever happened to downing a few drinks and watching sports?"

"Oh, they manage to do that too, dear. Never fear." Rachel chuckled, pointing to a set of double doors. "Through there, dear, and I'll let you introduce yourself. I just heard the bell and I have a customer."

"Thank you, Rachel. I look forward to visiting with you later this evening, perhaps?" Tessalyn's warm tone brought a smile to Rachel's face.

"Oh, I think our young Duncan has chosen well."

Tessalyn watched Rachel gracefully descend the stairs before turning back to the double doors. Time to meet Connor; a big step, she knew. Connor's opinion would count for a lot where Duncan was concerned. It was also time to discover first hand how her lover handled unexpected drop-in visits by his lady when he was out of town.

Tessalyn gave herself a quick reminder that Duncan claimed to adore her as she opened the doors and stood waiting.

"Ye dinna hav' to try so har', Connor MacLeod!"  Duncan shouted as he looked down at the blood soaking his left sleeve.

"Ye shoudna let me slip pas't ye, Duncan." Connor gloated with a chuckle that sounded more evil than good.

"I slipped." Duncan offered the same excuse he had been giving Connor for almost four centuries.

That spurred another evil little chuckle out of his clansman.

Before the two could commence arguing, Duncan noticed Tessalyn standing in the doorway. "Tessalyn!" He shouted; a huge grin greeted her. "Sweetheart!" He walked away from Connor and folded his lady into his arms. "What are you doing here, Sweetheart?" He asked as one large hand came up to brush a reddish lock of hair off of her cheek so that he could admire all of her beautiful face.

Before she could answer, Duncan covered her mouth with a kiss that promised all kinds of wonderful things. He was smiling when he pulled back and looked at her again. "I thought you had to teach and grade papers today?"

"I was encouraged to change my plans." She told him. He looked so wonderful she brought his lips back to hers and kissed him again. He chuckled at her assault but allowed it.

When she had gotten her second taste of him, Tessalyn glanced over at Connor and blushed bright red.

He was watching her with a closed expression on his face, but amusement in his eyes.

"Duncan, care to introduce the lady?" Connor quipped.

"Aye." Duncan rocked Tessalyn against his pelvis as he held her enclosed in his looped hands behind her back. "Tessalyn, meet Connor MacLeod; my brother and now yours." He stated simply. Duncan kissed her forehead as if to reassure her that she would be welcomed by his clansman.

Connor quirked an eyebrow at his brother but smiled gently at the lady. "Tessalyn; how nice of you to come. I've been looking forward to meeting you."

She watched as he took her hand and kissed the back of it. Her lips curved. "I'm sorry to drop in unannounced like this, but it couldn't be helped. It seemed imperative that I come."

That same eyebrow went up again before turning to Duncan with a questioning expression.

Duncan laughed.

Tessalyn turned back to her lover. "Duncan, I hate to sound rude, but I think I left my luggage downstairs in the store where I met Rachel. I just remembered it."

"I'll get it." Duncan kissed her again, covering her lips with a lusty but short version of what she could expect later on. "Connor will show you to our room. You look tired, Sweetheart. I imagine you had to get up pretty early to make it here by this time?"

She smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you, Duncan. I don't think I have the energy to climb those stairs again." She confessed, giving a short laugh. "I've never needed a nap more, I'm afraid. I haven't slept much the past two nights and you're right, it was a very early morning this morning."

He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Go lie down. We'll visit with Connor later after you've gotten a little sleep and feel more rested."

"You talked me into it. Oh, Duncan, I want to visit more with Rachel too this evening if she doesn't have any plans. Will you ask her? She is lovely."

Connor smiled.

Duncan knew his clansman had just given his lady a high mark of approval. He grinned as he turned to get the luggage.

"This way, Tessalyn, if you'll follow me, I'll show you to Duncan's room." Connor politely indicated which hallway to proceed down and Tessalyn gave him another grateful smile.

"Thank you, Connor. I know I seem like a nutcase dropping in like this, but it can be explained."

"By a reason other than you are a nutcase?" Connor teased her without smiling.

That surprised a laugh out of her. "Maybe not."

Turning serious, Connor opened the bedroom door to Duncan's room. "Why did you come here, Tessalyn? Duncan was planning on returning to you tomorrow."

"Would you believe I wanted to meet you?" She asked hopefully.

He shook his head slightly.

"I thought not. I mean I did want to meet you, Connor, but it could have waited a few months in all truthfulness." She made a face at how rude that had sounded.

His lips twitched. "Then why?"

Tessalyn looked him in the eye and considered how much his opinion would mean to Duncan. "Connor, can we discuss this in a couple of years? I'd rather wait if you don't mind?" She asked politely; her expression earnest.

This quirky lass thought his Rachel was lovely. The elder Highlander found himself agreeing to the ridiculous proposal.

Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod met his clansman coming back down the hallway. Connor was shaking his head and laughing at himself.

"Connor?"

"Aye."

"You look in good humor." It was a question without sounding like one. Connor knew his clansman well enough to answer it.

"She asked me if I wouldn't mind if she waited a few years before she explained why she flew out here less than a day before you were scheduled to return to her."

Duncan chuckled. "And your reply?"

"What do you think?" Connor brushed off the question and walked away. "Dinner will be served at eight."

"Aye." Duncan laughed, watching the back of his brother and clansman. "Is that a yes, Connor MacLeod?" He couldn't resist shouting.

Connor's reply came in the form of an Italian gesture that wouldn't be well-received outside of a brothel.

Duncan chuckled the rest of the way to his room.

Tessalyn was already asleep when he got there. He found her collapsed on top of the comforter. She hadn't even undressed, climbed under the covers or taken off her shoes.

Duncan smiled tenderly at his beautiful lady and did all those things for her. She never stirred.

Adam picked up the phone that afternoon and found a hysterical Elf on the other end. "Elf! Calm down, Elf! I can't understand a bloody thing you're saying." He lowered his voice to project a center of calm assurance. "Elf…Sweetheart, calm down, take a deep breath, let it out, that's good, do it again…now stop crying… just long enough to tell me where you are and what's wrong, okay, love?"

He listened for several minutes. "I'm coming to get you; you shouldn't drive in this state. No, don't argue with me, just stay there. Everything is fine. Yes, I know, it might not have been, but that's not the case, now is it? Just stay there and wait for me like a good Elf, okay? I'll be there in less than fifteen minutes."

Methos grabbed his car keys and sprinted down the stairs of his apartment complex, absently wondering which of the various gods he had been subject to in his extensive lifespan he should probably thank. In the end he decided on MacLeod's. After all, it was his lady who had been spared.

Duncan watched Connor pick up the phone and saw by the expression on his clansman's  face that he was not entirely pleased with the caller. "Methos? I'd like to say it's nice to hear your voice but you know I don't like to lie."

Duncan rolled his eyes. Evidently Methos had encountered Connor at some point in their lives. He wondered why Methos had never mentioned it. Obviously, from Connor's reaction, Methos had left Connor with that same warm and fuzzy feeling he gave everyone who met him. MacLeod chuckled at his own private thoughts.

"Aye. He's here. Try not to cross my path for another hundred years or so." Connor tossed the phone to Duncan.

"I see my clansman holds you in high regard." Duncan kept a straight face but his eyes danced with merriment at both the groan he heard from Methos and Connor's disgusted expression. He made a mental note to be sure and get the story from at least one of them, or both; now that could prove interesting, he decided.

"Tessalyn is there with you, right, MacLeod?" Methos got right to the point.

"Right." Duncan replied. "Did she leave without telling you? That's not like her to let people worry."

"She didn't. She woke us up at bloody three o'clock in the morning; Richie too, by the way. Apparently she told the smartass infant he was more pleasant to her than I was. The kid's holding that over my head." Methos muttered.

Duncan chuckled. "Three in the morning? She did decide spur of the moment, didn't she? That explains the long nap though."

"So she's there, sleeping?"

Duncan heard an excited Elf in the background yelling at Methos but he could tell Methos had covered the mouthpiece with his hand. "Settle down, Elf. Tessalyn is fine. She's sleeping. Waking us up at three in the morning exhausted her. Elf, be reasonable," Methos pleaded gently. "Let her sleep and MacLeod can relate what happened when she wakes up. It will be better that way. She will have had the rest she needs to hear the news."

"What news?" Duncan demanded, his manner catching Connor's attention.

Duncan listened quietly, his expression shocked at first and then a bit shaky. "Thank you, Methos." His voice shook with emotion. "Richie knows she's okay, right? He drove her to the airport? Good. He won't worry then. I'll have Tessalyn call The Elf when she wakes up and is feeling better." Duncan drew a deep breath. "Aye, close one; too close, thanks, Methos."

"What happened?" Connor demanded.

Duncan stood, walked over to the seventeenth century armoire, opened it and helped himself to a healthy portion of whiskey. He looked over at Connor, and poured his clansman one too. "It seems that this afternoon the building that houses Tessalyn's office on campus suffered some sort of structural failure. The roof collapsed on most of the east wing. The Elf, uh, I mean, Kattie, Tessalyn's best friend and a colleague, told Methos there's nothing left of her office. That corner took the most damage. Methos says it looks like a bomb went off in there. Nothing is left at all. If Tessalyn had been inside grading papers as she had planned, there would have been no way she would have survived the collapse."

Duncan sat back down, swallowed the rest of his drink in one long gulp and opened his eyes to find Connor watching him with a strange expression. "It is fortunate she decided to visit then, isn't it?"

"Fortunate would be one word for it." Duncan lifted dark eyes, moist with tears, up to those of his clansman. "I came close to losing her, Connor, much too soon."

Connor slapped his brother on the back with a strong hand. "Came close, but didn't. It seems your lady's quirky behavior served her well this day."

Duncan nodded and gathered his emotions. "Yes, it did. I think I'm going to insist on asking her about that now. I don't think I can wait several years."

"Good. Waiting was going to bother me more than a wee bit. You'll let me know what she tells you?" Connor asked.

Duncan's laughed was uneasy. "Aye, unless she asks me not to." He added, grinning when Connor glared at him.

Duncan spent another twenty minutes downing his clansman's best whiskey before feeling as if he had his emotions under control again. He glanced over at the clock and decided it wasn't in him to wait any longer. He needed to see Tessalyn. He needed to count those adorable freckles that she hated so much and tried so hard to conceal. He needed to just look at her.

Duncan opened the door to their room quietly and smiled at her sweet expression as she slept. She really did look like an angel when she dreamed. His smile faltered. Angel. Too close. He shuddered.

Duncan sat on the bed and brushed a strand of auburn color off her cheek, smiling at the lovely face beneath it. There were circles under her eyes where she had not slept well the past few nights. She had told him she was tired, but until he saw her asleep with her make-up fading, he hadn't realized just how pronounced those circles were. His lady was clearly exhausted.

"Tessalyn?" He called her name in a low whisper as he brushed his lips across her forehead and left cheek.

"Hmm," she sighed, turning toward him but failing to lift her lashes.

"Why did you come to me, Sweetheart?" He gently quizzed her, nuzzling her neck and blessing the soft skin he found there with a string of lightly placed kisses.

He thought he might have to ask again until she uttered a soft reply, never opening her eyes. "I promised."

Confused, Duncan caressed her cheek. "I didn't ask for your promise, Tessalyn."

"No." She agreed, flipping over and snuggling into her pillow, away from the inquisitive voice set on disturbing her sleep.

"Who made you promise, Tessalyn?" He whispered, his hand stroking the length of her arm and down over her hip.

"Tessa." She mumbled.

Stunned, The Highlander continued to stare at her as she slept. After a couple of minutes, he stood up, glanced back at the bed and his sleeping lady once again, and walked out of the bedroom, closing the doors behind him.

He'd see what answers she gave him in a couple of hours when she was truly awake.

Tessalyn woke to find she was alone in the bedroom. Duncan must be visiting Connor, she decided. Her stomach growled, signaling that the small package of pretzels she had been served on her flight, all sixty calories, was long gone as far as her stomach was concerned. She wondered what Connor would think of a houseguest who raided his refrigerator.

Tessalyn walked over to the mirror and only then realized she wasn't wearing anything but her lace panties. Her matching bra was easy enough to find lying on a chair beside the bed. She glanced over at the open closet doors and spotted her sweater and slacks neatly hanging up so as not to wrinkle. Duncan really was an extraordinary man. Four hundred years; she told herself, that's how long it must take for a man to realize that you hung up a lady's outfit if you didn't wish for it to wrinkle.

Smiling at that whimsical thought, Tessalyn slipped her bra back on along with her slacks and sweater, making a face in the mirror when she caught sight of her reflection.

Not a good day for face and make-up, she realized; too many sleepless nights in a row, combined with jet lag, she supposed.

Tessalyn opted to skip the additional make-up session in favor of finding Duncan. Part of her was anxious to see him again; to verify he was truly all right and nothing unforeseen had happened to him.

She could still hear Tessa's words in her head. If she wished to protect Duncan, she must leave immediately and join him in New York. Only when she was beside him, would he remain protected from harm.

The soft French accent lingered in her mind. "Oui? Promise me?"

Tessalyn had promised.

A vision of Debra Campbell's desperate expression popped into her head as she made her way down the hallway in search of one Scot or the other.

She heard Duncan's chuckle behind a door on the right and knocked softly twice before opening it. "Duncan?" She called his name as she peeked around the door. "May I come in?"

"Certainly, Tessalyn. Make yourself at home." Connor said, popping up beside her before she had time to notice him. She jumped a foot in surprise.

"Oh! Connor! You scared me." She laughed, gifting him with a relieved smile before making her way over to where Duncan sat on a generously overstuffed couch and was watching her. She trotted over to him, sinking into the cushions. Her body slid downhill into Duncan's when she took her seat. His arm came up and around her, pulling her even closer into his side. He felt wonderful!

"Sleep well?" He asked softly, kissing her lips before she could offer an answer.

"Very well." She sighed and kissed him again for good measure. "I still missed you though."

"Feet icy?" Duncan teased her with a smirk.

"As a matter of fact, they were." She countered with a soft chuckle.

Connor handed Tessalyn a glass of wine. "I assume a lady who traveled across the continent so early this morning would appreciate this?"

Tessalyn gratefully took the wine. Spotting the cheese tray on the table between them, she made a dive for it. "I'm starving." She exclaimed, helping herself to a hefty share of the appetizer.

Both Highlanders chuckled.

Tessalyn had a mouth full of cheese when Duncan asked her very casually, "you called Adam and Richie before you left, right, Tessalyn?"

She nodded as she chewed. Swallowing a significant bite, she added, "yes, but Methos wasn't pleased with the hour I called. Richie, though, was very sweet about it even after he learned I wasn't hurt or anything."

Duncan arched an eyebrow at her mentioning Methos by name, caught Connor's amused glance but didn't mention either to Tessalyn. "Why did you come today, Sweetheart?"

She popped another bite of cheese in her mouth and considered her answer while she chewed. Her eyes searched the room for possible responses that might fly while she ate. It really was a shame she was such a poor liar. She suspected there would be times with Duncan when the ability to effectively tell a lie might serve her well.

She settled on a compromise. "I think this is one of those times when it would be best if I waited a little bit before confessing the entire truth."

Duncan gently watched her. "I think it would be best if you told me, Tessalyn. I have stronger reasons for wanting to know than just curiosity."

"I told you how much I missed you?" She turned back to him and chewed on her bottom lip while she waited for him to accept that piece of truthful evasion.

He reached over and gently kissed the bottom lip she had been abusing. "Tell me, Sweetheart." He coaxed softly.

She rolled her eyes. "You're going to be stubborn again, aren't you, Duncan? I can tell. It's a sorry trait. Have I told you that?"

He chuckled and glanced over at Connor. "You don't consider it so, do you, Connor?"

"Asset. Stubbornness is a good Scottish asset."

She glared at Connor, amusing him to no end though his expression didn't reveal such to her, only to Duncan who knew him so well.

"You're a Scot! Of course you would say that." She frowned and popped a third piece of cheese in her mouth and commenced chewing on that one, adding a sip of wine as she did.

Duncan politely and purposefully pushed the appetizer tray out of her reach before turning to smile at her.

"You won't believe me." She stated with a dramatic sigh as she fell back against the couch.

"Try me." Duncan wrapped his arm back around her shoulders and kissed her cheese and wine-flavored mouth.

Tessalyn knew the game was up. Duncan was in one of his moods where he worked diligently and relentlessly until his goal was achieved and he had accomplished exactly what he had set out to do.

She closed her eyes briefly and when her lashes lifted, her bright green eyes pleaded with his. "Duncan, would it bother you too much if I were let's say….not completely right of mind?"

He laughed, shook his head and kissed her worried face. "Why do you think you might not be right of mind?"

Tessalyn glanced over at Connor then back to Duncan. "Wouldn't you rather discuss this in private? It might be somewhat embarrassing for you to have your clansman in the same room with you when you discover that the lady in your bed is completely batty?"

Duncan maintained a straight face. "Nah, Connor's had batty women in his bed before too."

Tessalyn considered that piece of information for a moment, her face suddenly brightening. "Oh, that makes me feel much better! Thank you." And in typical Tessalyn style, she glanced over at Connor and thanked him as well.

The elder Highlander's face showed his bemusement.

Duncan only chuckled. "You're welcome, Sweetheart. Now isn't there something you want to tell me?"

"It was the ghosts." She answered, grabbing her glass of wine off of the coffee table and swallowing a generous portion of it. She reached for another piece of cheese to cram into her mouth, but Duncan's hand stopped hers. He took hold of her hand, kissing it softly but keeping it in his.

"Go on." He instructed.

"I told you about Fitz." She frowned at him. "And you didn't believe me. You said I was dreaming."

"Yes, I did." Duncan nodded.

"Well, I wasn't dreaming in the University Library when I looked up and found Debra Campbell motioning to me." Tessalyn muttered, wincing when she felt Duncan's body stiffen beside her. "I did see her, Duncan! She's really quite lovely and did you notice her hair color is almost exactly the same shade as mine? Genetics really is a fascinating field of study, isn't it?"

Duncan closed his eyes in a bid for extra patience. Connor decided standing was going to tax his abilities, so he took a seat opposite of them, helping himself to another drink.

"You believe you saw Debra Campbell?" Duncan stated gently.

"You don't have to say it like that, Duncan. I did see Debra Campbell! She motioned to me and her eyes were desperately pleading with me to help her. I walked over to her and clearly heard her voice in my head telling me to go to you. Then she disappeared, not that she was fully visible in the first place. She was a little transparent, not like Fitz."

Duncan drew a long breath. "Did she say her name was Debra Campbell?"

"No."

"Then how did you know it was her, Sweetheart?" Duncan asked.

"Well, Good Heavens, Duncan, how many women from that time period loved you enough to cross several centuries to speak to me? And wearing the Campbell plaid too, I might add. Or was there more than one lady of the Campbell clan you were romancing?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Tessalyn. She was the only Campbell I loved then." Duncan raised his voice in exasperation.

"Then it was her, obviously." Tessalyn stated firmly.

Duncan ran a hand down his face and held onto his patience. "So, because you dreamed of Fitz the other night and Debra Campbell in the library, you decided to fly to New York?"

"Of course not!" Tessalyn argued. "That would be the act of a woman not entirely rational, don't you think? I mean just because a couple of ghosts popped in and started speaking to me, that shouldn't be enough to make me forget my obligations to my students or my job and just drop everything to fly out here and join you."

"It wouldn't?" Duncan found himself grinning.

"Not at all, ghosts or no ghosts, you can't just drop everything and abandon your responsibilities without good reason, Duncan. I should have thought you knew me better than that."

"Sorry, Sweetheart." He kissed her in apology. "Why then?"

"I promised I would." She answered simply.

"Promised?"

"Yes."

Duncan braced himself for the answer and encouraged her to continue. "You promised…?"

She took a deep breath. "Tessa; the last ghost to visit me."

"My Tessa?" Duncan frowned, his voice cracking as he said her name.

"It was her, Duncan. I've seen your pictures of her. And she had the French accent that I found to be quite lovely by the way. She was very beautiful and so polite. She asked me very simply to do as she wished and then extracted my promise that I would. I found myself saying 'Oui' before I could think better of it! I think it must have been very difficult for you to ever say 'no' to Tessa. I found it difficult." She admitted softly, then to the utter bemusement of both men, added. "Not that I think it's a good idea to say no to a ghost who goes to all the trouble to pop in on you anyway. I mean they must have a reason and you figure Someone in a higher position than either you or I must have granted that kind of permission."

Neither man spoke for at least two minutes. Tessalyn used the time to eat another piece of cheese, having to stretch halfway across Duncan's lap and legs to reach the tray.

"She must have dreamed all three, Duncan." Connor finally announced, breaking the silence in the room. "All people of importance from your past and so she felt it necessary to follow their advice; the decision to come being a subconscious one from her dreams."

"Freud give you permission to take over his practice when he died, Connor?" Tessalyn quipped.

Duncan chuckled at that. "You must have dreamed them; and Tessa too, Sweetheart." He told her because it was logical and because he liked that explanation much better than any others that came to him.

"Richie smelled her perfume, Duncan, when he came over a few minutes later to give me a ride to the airport." She squeezed his hand. "He remembered the scent and told me it was Tessa's, the special perfume you had mixed just for her in Paris." She told him very softly, placing a hand against his heart as she conveyed that intimate piece of information.

He stared at her, his deep brown eyes riveted to her face, searching for answers in the tender look she gave him. "She made me promise to come to your side immediately, assuring me it was the only way you would remain protected from harm. She promised me you wouldn't be hurt if I came to New York to be with you."

Duncan turned to look at Connor. The other Highlander only shook his head slightly as he considered the entire situation. When they both turned back to stare incredulously at Tessalyn, her response was a light-hearted shrug. "What?" She asked with a sheepish expression. "Was it something I said?"

Ten minutes later, Tessalyn hopped up and left the two Highlanders to finish their bottle of whiskey they had started on after polishing off the rest of the wine.

She used the time to raid Connor's refrigerator.

The End