Brotherly Love

by AmandaFaye

Family reunions can get interesting, in the Chinese curse sense, that is Revised

Standard disclaimers apply.

Candy, Martha, Ed, Carolyn and Daniel belong to CBS and everyone that the original show belongs to. Sean originated with Mary, but he is now shared custody in our Day On Universe. 1776 and Evita come from Broadway. Linden's name is from Stephen Donaldson. Tris and Sig have their basic origin in All Creatures Great and Small, but are original. Blackie's first name but not religion is borrowed from Andrew Greeley. He also is mine. So is Adam, though when I picture him he looks a lot like Peter Wingfield. Dakota belonged to D'Arcy Ansley, but is now in doggie heaven. Jenny and Dave are mine. If I missed anything and it belongs to someone else, it belongs to them. I intend no copyright infringement, just amusement.

Brotherly Love

Amanda

"I'm claiming sanctuary."

Blinking rapidly, Blackie took a step back. By now, he was used to people dropping in unasked. Okay, dead people, but they were people. Some were livelier than the strictly living.

"Not from my cousin, I hope?" the young man asked cautiously, hoping Tristan just had pulled one too many stunts on Clay and was hiding out; if that was the case, he probably had a good story or two to share. "And how did I get picked to hide you, anyway? Wouldn't himself be better?" Himself being Captain Gregg.

"Isn't holy ground considered sanctuary?" Tristan asked from his perch on the chandelier.

"Uh — well — there were the cities of sanctuary, long, long ago, if you accidentally killed someone — but er — my home isn't exactly holy ground — and if you offed someone, I'll just look up Adam's number..."

"I didn't kill anyone — and Thom has nothing to do with it — but if he brought HIM here, Candy, or no Candy — I might kill him."

Trying to sort out all the pronouns, Blackie sighed. "Come down from there — you're making my neck hurt. Now, why do you need sanctuary? Him who?"

"Siegfried."

That was clarifying. "Again I ask, who?"

"My older brother." Tristan drifted down slowly, moroseness emanating from him.

"Siegfried — Tristan?"

Looking irked, Tris waved at the question, "Dad had a thing for myths. My twin sister was Isolde. We had a brother, Ultan, but he died in infancy."

I would too, to avoid that name, Blackie thought to himself, but did not say so, it seemed rather insensitive, and he had little room to talk with Blackwood for a moniker. "Why are you hiding from him — and wouldn't it be safer at — at—" Surely there was somewhere... ah — "Gull Cottage? I'm sure the Captain can handle an irate ghost much better than I can."

"Oh, Siggy's not very irate, for him — or dangerous — just well — being himself. THAT is quite enough."

"Er — yes. In any case," Blackie was feeling rather lost by now. "Why don't I take you there? We can ride in my car." Knowing how Tristan loved cars, he prayed, literally, the bribe would work.

"Can I drive?"

"I didn't know you could — ah — it's a stick shift." Please, let him have learned on automatic. Please let him have learned on automatic…

"Is that very different from an automatic?"

YES. Thanks, Boss. "Totally. Very different. SO, I'd better do it, and you can tell me all about it or something. Who taught you?"

"I got bored — and Adam offered to teach me," Tristan said cheerfully as they settled into the VW bug. "It came in very handy — when Blair came back..." He went on to tell that story, leaving the mystery of Siegfried for Gull Cottage.

As the pair pulled up to Gull Cottage, Tristan noted, "Ah, looks like Pierce is here. Could be handy."

Blackie shrugged and tried not to be disconcerted by his passenger exiting by walking through the car door.

Carolyn was sitting on the porch and she rose to greet them. "Here for the weekly game?"

"I confess I'd forgotten it," Blackie admitted. "Tris—"

"I'll explain inside," he deferred, pecking Mrs. Gregg on the cheek.

As they went in, Sean called, "Grab a chair and try to win back some of Adam's ill-won goods."

"Well..." Tristan began.

"It's not real money," Adam shook his head. "Well, pennies aren't very real."

"In our day they were," Daniel sniffed.

"One hand, then I've got to talk to you guys," Tristan said.

The others nodded and dealt them in. Before the cards were settled, a thunderous voice boomed, "WHEREISHE!"

"Oops," Tristan moaned, closing his eyes. "Gentleman, may I present Siegfried Matthews."

"Tris — we thought you were an orphan," Sean said — a puzzled look appeared on his face.

"I am, I mean I said ... well, I wasn't always. Sig here is my brother — much to my regret. He sort of took care of me and my sister after Mum and Dad died. But after a few years, I had to get away. He was driving me insane. He'd tell me not to do something — then turn around and do it himself, and pretend he'd never said not to. Maddening, absolutely maddening."

"I'vebeenlookingforyouforagesonlyfoundyouafterIheardaboutachapwhosubstitutehauntedCallahancastleinIRELANDOFALLPLACES.WHATTHEDEUCEWEREYOUDOINGINBLOODYIRELAND?Andgambling?You'restill gambling!"

Everyone looked at each other in sheer wonder that anyone could talk that rapidly, and with no comprehension.

"What did he say?" asked Adam. "I don't listen that fast."

Dash chuckled. "I thought you were a lawyer. Isn't listening to such fellows something you have to learn before passing the bar?"

Adam ignored the other spirit, and looked at Tris. "Was he always like that? Or does being a ghost give you the ability?"

"No — not ghost. Just practice, and I haven't practiced in... More than a hundred years. I don't think I want any more practice. Sig, why have you come back to haunt me?"

"Because the knowledge that you, you miscreant are running amok on the civilized world has haunted ME for a century. More than a century."

"Siegfried…" Helplessly, he looked at his crewmates. "Captain… Dash… Sean. Tell him to leave me alone." Then, resolution altered his face, but he looked sad. "No, Sig. I'LL tell you — LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Daniel stared at the newly arrived ghost. "I must say, my good man, It's rather rude of you to just barge in here and…"

"Families don't BARGE. They arrive. And relatives are supposed to welcome them with open arms. My baby brother needs ..."

"Do you want my opinion on the overuse of the term 'family'?" Blackie cut in. Everyone ignored him.

"DON'T call me that!" Tris yelped, levitating to the ceiling.

"But you ARE..." Siegfried said, looking genuinely hurt. "Tris, I don't understand you."

"That's the problem," Tristan said from his perch. "You don't, and you never did."

"Thinkwhatyouwantofme, baby brother." Siegfried paused. "I am here, I am not leaving, and besides..." there was another pause. "I need a favor. Now come down here and stop being so childish."

"Ah-hah!" Tris practically screamed. Seating himself, he slapped the table, bouncing the pennies the group had been using hither, thither, and yon. "I've been dead over a hundred years — imagine you have been too — and you only come looking for me when you need something! What — all the other family turn you down? And you are not getting anywhere, calling me 'childish.'

"Now, ba — Tristan. Don't be like that, and you are being childish now really, boy, you are."

"They did — didn't they?"

"Issy and Ultan have gone on," Siegfried scowled, looking upwards. "Well, I've never seen Ultan, but I am assuming..."

"So, I'm your only shot. I don't even want to hear it."

"You ungrateful scoundrel!"

"Hey — Tris — let's hear what he has to say — then negotiate." Adam winked. "By the way, allow me to introduce myself. Adam Pierce, attorney to ghosts, 'extraordinaire.' What are your demands?"

"I'm not listening to anyone who calls me 'baby brother'," Tris protested. "Did everyone else turn you down? I've been dead a good while you know — and only now do you show up?"

"You were the one wanting independence!"

"Which you are attempting to violate! If not kill!"

"Hold on, Tris," Adam chuckled. "Let's keep supply and demand in mind — what do you want — and what will you give Tristan to do it?"

"I'veneverheardsuchrubbishfamiliesdothingsforeachothernotbarterlikemerchants!"

"What'd he say?" Carolyn asked.

"I caught something about family obligations," Blackie supplied. "And I'll repeat what I said to Thom on the subject of undeserving relations. Go on, what do you want? Slowly now."

"Ask away, Sig," Tris sighed. "But just remember, I'm not promising anything — especially if it has to do with pigs."

"Pigs?" Daniel's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"I said, don't ask," said Tris. "Suffice it to say there is nothing I would rather do on board ship or elsewhere — than..."

"Never mind…" said Carolyn, hurriedly. "Pigs, ships… I don't think I want to know."

Let me say I know I don't want to," Adam said. "Dakota is enough livestock."

Siegfried looked around the room. "Well — it is rather — ah — private — between family, no offense."

"We ARE family," Sean instructed, glancing at the others, living and not, for confirmation that he received.

"I want witnesses," Tristan agreed stubbornly.

Tactfully, Sean stepped in, "You know, your brother hasn't met all of us yet." Gesturing in turn, he began, "Captain Gregg, our commanding officer and acting patriarch. Lord Dashire there and I, Sean O'Casey, served on his ship with Tristan. Adam did introduce himself already. The boy over there is Reverend Blackwood O'Ryan, the Captain's step-cousin-in-law..."

Sean had intended to save the best for last, Carolyn, but Siegfried cut him off. "O'Ryan! Cousin-in-law? Of the young woman he..." he yelled, pointing at Tristan, "...attempted to…"

"I did no such thing — whatever it is! Sean — you and Dashire shadowed us most all the time!"

Dakota looked up and began barking until Daniel's thunder silenced the yells.

"Tristan did nothing to the detriment of my step-daughter's honor or heart."

"Oh, I never meant to imply — you would be Mrs. Muir — Gregg?" Siegfried hastily reassured and changed gears in what would have been one breath for a living person. "Yes, you are quite famous — and very inspirational to all ghosts everywhere, dear lady. Quite inspiring. Loving one of us, making a life as it were..."

Leaning over, Adam hissed at Sean, "Didn't he just tear off Tris' hide over even considering attempting that?"

Sean shrugged.

Carolyn looked a bit startled, but recovered, "Ah, yes. I am. Won't you sit down and tell us all what brings you here?" Maybe she could steer this fellow back on track, or find the track.

"You ran off with my — our great-grandfather's pocket watch, my good luck charm."

"Your what? What pocket watch? Come on, Sig. That's not enough of a reason to come back here and make my afterlife miserable. Besides, I didn't take it."

"Yesyoudid. I know you did, andI'mnotleavinguntil I getitback."

"I thought things of the flesh didn't matter once you passed on... or whatever it is you call it when you don't pass ON just... pass," Blackie put in; he was getting better at interpreting.

"Not always the case, old boy," Siegfried answered with a wink. "Surely you've heard the stories miners guarding the treasure they were killed for... why, Captain Gregg, here, is still living... haunting... well he's doing something here at Gull Cottage, isn't he? Most of you are." He turned back to his brother. "Now come on, Trissy. Be reasonable. NowbeagoodladandgivemewhatIcamefor andI'll be running along."

"How's that?" Adam shook his head from side to side, violently.

"Looks like Dakota after a bath," Dash muttered. "This fellow is going to drive somebody around here crazy, and I'm not sure if it will be Tris or Adam who drops first."

"Don't count me out of that possible list," Blackie commented from the corner of his mouth. "And..." dropping his voice a bit more, "...I don't think what himself is hanging around for is a thing!"

"Doubt Siggy is either," Sean agreed in the same timbre.

Further talk was interrupted by a knock. Carolyn excused herself to let Linden in; she considered asking the other woman to come back later, but well, she knew about the ghostly family, so maybe she could help. "There's another ghost here — a new one," Carolyn informed her, in a sotto voice. Siegfried could not keep his mouth shut, and by the time the two women returned to the parlor, he was in apoplexy again.

Linden was saying, "Carolyn, I hoped we could plan Jen's shower, or start to..." she trailed off seeing Siegfried's red face. "...I hope he's a ghost, otherwise I'd better run down to the car and grab my bag — he's on the verge of a heart attack — unless you guys can still have them?"

"I don't think we can. This is Siegfried, Tristan's brother," Dashire explained. "And we're trying to figure it all out."

Adam stuck up his hand. "Let's get this straight," he began, going into professional mode. "Siegfried — this watch has been missing since T — since you were alive?"

Yes, yes, I just said that, didn't I?"

"We weren't totally sure," Adam drawled, dryly.

"Why did you wait so long?" Carolyn asked, before Adam could.

"Ah — well — you knowtimedoesn'tseemtorunthe—"

"SLOWLY!" Adam yelled, and then apologized to Carolyn.

"Used to it," she smiled ruefully.

"Time — DOES — NOT — seem — to — pass — the sameforus," Siegfried tried to say slowly, but in the end, rushed. Still, they got the gist. "It only seems yesterday that Tris here was running around in short pants and—"

"That's enough, Siegfried!" Tristan yelped. "You're the one who was always telling Issy and me to place things carefully, then going and losing them. It's probably somewhere in that mausoleum you call a home, staring you in the face — one of your safe places."

Daniel cleared his throat. "Welcome, Dr. Avery. Siegfried, this is my step-daughter's mother-in-law, Linden Avery, Dr. Linden Avery."

Siegfried crossed the room, taking Linden's hand in both of his own. "Doctor, it's so nice to meet you? Itakeityouknowallaboutghostsandsuch?Yes?" Turning slightly and never pausing, went on, "Tristanhowmanypeopleinthistownknowaboutghosts?"

"Any number of people... over time, of course," Adam spoke up. "Me, of course. Carolyn and her children were the first, naturally to know about Captain Gregg..."

"I beg to differ, Adam," Daniel cut in, "but actually my..." he broke off, catching himself. "...My SO CALLED great nephew — he's not you know — came first. Broke into Gull Cottage on a dare at age twelve..." he grinned. "And a gave him and his three friends a run for their money, let me tell you!"

Carolyn giggled, remembering the story he had told the Halloween so many years before. "I was... no, I take that back. Jonathan came next, then myself, then about a year later my daughter, Candy, then Martha, Ed, Jenny, Dave, Thom, Blackie, Adam... do I have everyone? And most recently, Dr Lynne... we're not planning on adding any more members to our... EARTHLY fraternity… unless… well, unless needed, I suppose, unless of course Jonathan, I mean Jon gets married any time soon."

"It better NOT be any time soon," Daniel interjected. "The lad has his education — training to think of first, before he even thinks about anything of the sort. In MY day—"

"True love knows no bounds," Carolyn grasped her husband's hand. "When, and if, it happens for Jonathan, we will deal with it as we always have." She gave her husband a smile meant only for him, and for a moment they were lost in each other's eyes.

"And somehow, when you meet one ghost, you end up meeting them all," Lynne added. "Although I haven't had the pleasure of meeting Elroy Applegate, yet."

"More of a trial, than a pleasure, good lady." Sean smiled.

"Elroy has his moments," Daniel cut in. "He's loyal, you have to give him that."

"Like Dakota, perhaps," nodded Adam. "That does bring up a good point — with the first kid on the way — how are you going to tell him or her? I've been wondering."

"Let's jump off that bridge when we get to it," Linden suggested.

"Speaking of bridges and jumping..." Dashire began, an edge to his tone, "Adam, I need to see my lawyer about something — in the alcove — and it concerns you, and you." He looked from Blackie to Sean.

"Oh, goody," Adam muttered. He had a guess about what.

Once in the alcove, Dashire began, "Guys, look, I think Tristan's brother is going to be here a … while. Now, then…"

"No," Adam snapped.

"You don't know what I'm about to ask!" Dashire gasped.

"But he does know YOU," Sean affirmed.

"Well, I wasn't about to ask it," Blackie stated. "I figure whoever asks, gets to keep him."

"Precisely — and no."

"I can't take him with me — Jenny needs a restful atmosphere now," Dashire protested.

"My house is a one-ghost model," Sean stated.

"Mine is a no-ghost one," Adam glared. "I remember your version of a wake-up call. He reminds me of 1776 — that movie we saw during the Bicentennial a few years ago."

"What was that?" Sean asked. "There were a lot of great lines in that show."

"The line of Lewis Morris' — Congressional Representative of New York, when he was sent to congress with no instructions on how to represent the state," Adam paused. "Morris maintained that a meeting of the New York Legislature consisted of men speaking very fast and very loud, nobody listening to anybody else, with the result that nothing ever got done — and that is exactly how Siegfried Matthews strikes me — If he moves in with me, my law practice will go out the window. I might follow. Blackie?"

"Don't look at me," Blackie warned. "What? No quotes from John Adams about two useless men being called a law firm?"

"Watch it."

"What about me?" Linden, who had followed, sensing something up, asked.

"You...? But it's hardly proper… I was thinking, since we've eliminated ourselves, Claymore," Dashire began to suggest.

"Claymore'd have a nervous breakdown — and I don't want to treat that."

"Your idea of cooking is pouring milk over cereal, Aunt Lynne," Blackie reminded her. "Or heating soup if you are ambidextrous."

"Blackwood, I can cook, prefer not to — it's inefficient for one — and he's a ghost, what could happen?"

"Well..."

"I'm not looking to fall in love, nephew," Linden smirked. "But I can see the appeal of spectral men, the ladies of this home might have had good ideas."

"I do not want to hear this!" Blackie moaned. "Too much information."

"SSH!" Sean cautioned.

When they returned, Daniel quirked one brow. "Business all seen to?"

"Absolutely," Adam acknowledged, "though how satisfactorily remains to be seen."

"Can I ask what it was about?" Tristan asked, looking for a new topic.

"Hold that thought — you don't know what we spoke of," Adam advised.

"Huh?"

"So no one can blame you, for once, if it all goes badly."

"That's a novel concept," Tristan mused.

With a chuckle, Linden looked at Siegfried. "Well, Mr. Matthews..."

"Siegfried."

"Right. What would you say to staying with me while you're in town?"

"My dear, I'm flattered, certainly, but is it quite proper?"

"As a great ghost once advised me," Carolyn said, sliding a glance to her husband, "you are a spirit and a gentleman — and I'm sure you won't — ah — peek."

"Certainly not!"

"Besides," Linden grinned, "I'm the only one who hasn't been haunted. I'm feeling left out."

"Well, Ed did declare his and Martha's home haunt free — and none of us has officially haunted your son's, on a long-term basis," Dashire admitted.

"Candy and Martha did live with him," she countered, looking at Captain Gregg. "Why has Ed banned you all?"

Dashire looked a bit abashed, so Daniel, pulling his ear a bit, said, "Well, I did have quite a reputation before the Muirs moved in, Ed never has gotten over his fear."

"Didn't help having Dash flirt with Martha so Ed'd wake up and buy the cherry pie, as it were," Tris added helpfully. "Even though Ed didn't know that Dash was a spook at the time."

"It was for his own good," Dashire sniffed.

"Right," Sean cleared his throat. "Now, Siegfried, try and stay invisible. There's a phenomena or two out there called Jane Shoemaker and the Hassenhammer brood. We don't want to give them something to talk about."

"Certainly, certainly. I'll be quiet as a mouse. You won't even know I'm there, though if baby brother would just give me the watch..."

"I don't have it!" Tristan declared again, sparking a mild thunder boom.

"Now, where's the fun in that?" Linden simultaneously asked, looking disappointed.

"Am I going to have to defend him on theft charges?" Adam speculated to himself. "Well, least it's not murder."

Tristan heard him and warned, "Yet."

"He's dead already," Adam said.

"Did I mention his name?"

"Will I get both of you?" Linden asked, not sure that would be a good idea at all.

"Of course," Siegfried beamed.

"No," Tristan stated flatly. "I'm helping Dashire take care of the mother to be and distract the father to be so the mother to be doesn't kill him for being smothery." The look he shot his friend begged for confirmation.

"Oh, certainly. Quite a handful that job is — I need back up."

"But we've so much catching up to do," Siegfried looked aggrieved.

"Y'know, considering the pictures in my place," Linden whispered to him, "it really would be hard on Tristan to live there any time worth mentioning. Pictures of my son — and Candy all over the place."

"I couldn't agree more," Carolyn added, though if anyone had thought it through, she had just as many and Tris seemed okay on his frequent visits.

"So, are we set?" Blackie asked. "I think the game has been a washout, so Sean, my choir director is in a snit — would you do me the honor of giving a hand until his nose returns to joint? Though, I do like you a lot better, maybe we can keep it out of joint."

"We'll talk about it," Sean said in a noncommittal tone. "Linden, you wanted to talk to Carolyn, I thought?"

"Oh, I forgot. Frankly, right now, I couldn't concentrate on ribbons or balloons anymore."

"Then, maybe we'd better disperse to our respective homes?" Adam suggested.

Just then, the doorbell rang again.

"I'm still going to pull that thing out of the walls one day," Daniel growled.

"They'll just knock," Carolyn smiled, slipping through the crowd to open the door. "Claymore, it's been ages..."

"I know, Mrs. Mu — er — Mil — Gregg? Now that just sounds weird. That makes it sound like we're married — and it'd be an honor and we almost were, sort of — but are you my aunt now? So are you Aunt Carolyn or..."

Popping in besides his wife, "You are not my nephew so it is Mrs. Gregg to you, you stupenagled yayhoo."

"Aaayung!" Claymore shrilled.

"What an extraordinary noise," Siegfried marveled.

"Oh, that's nothing," Tristan assured his big brother. "Nothing at all."

"What do you want?" Daniel barked.

"Well, I ah — I forgot. You scared me — you big bully."

"I don't suppose you have any antique pocket watches do you?" Tristan called.

"Wh — wha — what?"

"I heard how many antiques made their way to your keeping, and my brother is looking for one — so I thought you might have it."

"Y—y—y—your brother? There's more of you?" Now Claymore looked in danger of fainting. Linden shot Tris a 'gee, thanks' glare.

"No — I'm unique," Tristan corrected.

"They are nothing alike, dear boy," Dashire assured Claymore. "Have a seat — you look off your pins."

"Thank you, I will," the former landlord agreed airily, mincing past Daniel, Tristan and company.

When he had a cup of tea in hand, Daniel cleared his throat, "Now — you are here — why?"

"Well, why am I here..."

Daniel growled.

"Oh, yes...it's coming up time to consider organizing the Seaman's home fund enhancement talent show/bazaar, etcetera, etcetera — and since Mrs. Mu — Gregg — but you're really Mrs. Miles..."

"Get on with it."

"She — is so capable; I wanted to discuss the planning with you..."

"I'm still recovering from planning two weddings, and then Linden and I are planning Jenny's shower." Carolyn looked around with a "help me" expression.

"And technically, they are still newlyweds," Dashire agreed.

"She's right — I have first dibs on her planning abilities," Linden chimed in.

"Just one small baby doesn't need that much! Not as much as a whole town!" Claymore dissented shrilly.

"You never have had children, have you?" Linden asked astutely.

"Not bloody likely to either," Tristan murmured.

"Heaven perish the thought," Daniel added.

"No, the right Mrs. Gregg — not her — I mean — for me — just never..."

"Yes, well right then," Siegfried jumped in. "I'm going to be here for — ah — some time — your face is going to freeze that way, little brother—"

Tris obediently, reflexively took the face he'd made off, then added, "Don't call me that! I'm three inches taller."

"Ahem — as I was saying, I will have a large amount of free time — and would be happy to offer you my services... Mr. Gregg is it? Yes. Just tell me how, when, what, where, etcetera, and you will have an unforgettable fete'."

Claymore looked stunned, glancing at his friends to tell him what to do.

"Go on, take him up on it," Blackie advised.

"You won't — play games with my telephone — or anyone's telephone? Or put pepper in the salt shaker? Or take apart my bike?"

"What bike?" Tris asked.

"Oh, that's right, I don't have one..."

"I will be the ah — soul — of decorum," Siegfried smiled.

"Think of it," Sean encouraged, "a tireless worker — decades of knowledge..."

"Oh please," Tris said under his breath.

"He'll be out of your hair, old boy," Dashire whispered. Louder, he went on, "Come on, Tristan. We did promise not to be gone too long."

"Right. Think we need to borrow a book or two to keep Jen occupied since Dave won't let her do anything?"

"I think you need to distract him — so she can sneak in doing something," Carolyn advised.

"I'd better run, too — Siegfried, Blackwood will tell you how to find my place. Or Claymore can direct you," Linden said, taking her leave.

"Er — before I pop out with his lordship," Tristan said, "Ah — Adam?"

"Yes?" the lawyer asked warily.

"Well — Blackwood mentioned a thing called a stick shift... I was hoping maybe you'd consider teaching me how to use one?"

"More driving lessons, you mean?" Adam asked, and when Tristan nodded, replied, "No." Counting off points, he explained before the disappointed mien could turn into verbal protests, "A. I do not own a stick-shift. B. I don't even recall how to drive one myself. C. Do you recall what happened to the gardening shed at the golf course when I taught you how to drive?"

"It is not my fault that your brakes are — well — faulty!"

Carolyn shook her head imperceptibly. One thing was sure — since coming to Gull Cottage life had been interesting, but in the best ways.

XXX

Several days later, Carolyn met Jenny and Linden in town for some shopping.

"When Tris mentioned he'd been haunting Callahan Castle," Jenny told the other two, "I told him about seeing Mister Callahan — and getting hit on... should've seen the expression on his face. 'That bloody leach! I wish I'd known — I'd have told his great, great, grandma about it — Colleen would've made his life very uncomfortable — acting like her late and departed husband'."

"Speaking of Tris — how is big brother?" Carolyn asked Linden.

"Oh, he's reorganized all my shelves," the doctor smiled fondly, and turned into an answering service. "However, I do wish he'd stop forgiving me for things he does. He scheduled two patients at the same time — my receptionist is on vacation — he's filling in — and they both showed up." Taking her glasses off, Linden adopted a patient expression, "'My dear lady, I know what important things you have on your mind, but really — you put me in a most difficult position, explaining to both of them that you could only see one of them at a time..."

The other two women laughed. "How'd it end?" Carolyn asked.

Linden made a face. "How do you think? I apologized to him. Promised never to do it again. And I asked to be forgiven, which he graciously DID!" She looked rueful, then with a shake of her head, concluded, "But — when it hit me that I had — I suggested I was monopolizing his time and that maybe he needed to spend more of it working on Claymore's project or getting to know his brother."

"That explains why Tris has been so quiet, but edgy about being quiet," Jenny grinned. "Hiding."

"Wouldn't you?" a new voice asked as Tristan, mindful of there being others around, sauntered over. "I've got keeping an eye on your duty, young lady," he added, shaking a finger at Jen. "Since the head publicist, whatever you call that, is so unreasonable as to not give Dave paternity leave, at least not until Junior shows up."

"Carolyn, Linden — are all first time dads so — hovery?" Jenny moaned.

"Bobby wasn't," Carolyn said, looking down.

"Alan would have been, I think, but — well, conception occurred right before he was shipped off — to Nam," Linden said quietly.

"Sorry," the younger woman softly said to the other two.

"Not your fault, honey," Carolyn smiled quickly.

"Has Big Brother driven you off your tree yet?" Tristan asked Linden.

"No, he's very charming, just a bit quirky."

"Typical," Tristan said in disgust. "Mentioned the blasted watch anymore? The one I DO NOT have, barely thought of it since leaving."

"Not really, no."

"I knew he was up to something, nothing to do with some bauble," Tristan snorted. "Say — think we could get Adam up here?"

"What are you plotting?" Carolyn asked.

"Resolving, dear lady, resolving. Can we?"

"I'm sure we can. Daniel wants to win back a few pennies, game's in a couple of days... can it wait until then?"

"I suppose. Doc, would you invite my brother to the weekly card game at Gull Cottage, for me, please? Maybe come a bit early, so we can talk?"

"With Adam?" Carolyn asked.

"Well, I do believe in hurrying matters along."

XXX

On game day, Carolyn was assisted in setting up the parlor by Siegfried, who was always either late or early, according to Tristan, Tristan himself, and Daniel. They'd barely begun when Adam's car pulled up.

"Ah — Pierce isn't it?" Siegfried welcomed him. "Early aren't you?"

"Not as early as you," Adam countered. "But I am glad you are both here. I've been thinking about this matter — and really — while criminal law is not my area — not that that matters much — I do like having all the facts, as Carolyn will tell you from our past work together."

"Now, we never mentioned the word criminal," Siegfried blustered. "Simple mishap, really. Misunderstanding..."

"Nonetheless, by implication charges were made," Adam persisted. "Therefore, you say this timepiece was missing for — oh — a century or better?"

"Yes, notsureoftheexactnumberofyears."

Adam let the running together slide, he got the gist.

"But — only now, recently, do you come looking for it? Why is that?"

"Wehaveestablishedthat,havewenot?Timedoesnot—"

"Quite," Adam cut him off. "Just getting the facts. You know; my desk is creatively organized. I can look for something for hours it seems, and then call in my secretary and she spends two minutes... glares at me, saying 'if this had been a snake — I'd be on the unemployment line' and shoves the item under my nose." He grimaced. "Now, perhaps the case is so with you, Siegfried. Maybe you're just looking too hard, and not seeing, so if we just take a trip to your home — or if it's too far, I'm sure Tris, Sean, someone could go along... and give you a fresh pair..."

"Out of the question," Siegfried dismissed. "Out of the question, besides, it would be useless. I never lose things. When I put something down, you might wish to take notes, it will save you grief in the future — I make a mental image of the item and where I lay it in my head. So, when I go to pick it up again, it is precisely where I left it..."

Adam thanked God for his poker face, perfected in law school, at that moment. Behind Siegfried's head, Tristan had arrived and was lip synching the exact words along with his brother, picking up an imaginary object, staring intently at it until his eyes bugged out, then putting it down. He then mimed going away, returning and feigning surprise — it was right where he left it.

Still, Adam's control almost broke.

"I will," Adam coughed, "definitely," coughing harder, "keep that in mind."

"You ought to pop in and see Linden, old son," Tristan exclaimed. "That cough is nasty. Can't have you getting ill — but you would make an outstanding member of our spectral fraternity."

Adam gave him what was dubbed the 'death eye glare,' usually reserved for the likes of Blair or Dashire's hapless relatives.

Clearing his throat, the attorney tried once more. "You might consider it — Tristan might like to see his old home again."

Tristan returned the look in kind.

"Ah — well, there might be some ah — difficulty in that. It is in Yorkshire, after all." Siegfried deferred.

"But you came from there — or did you pass on in America?" Adam asked.

Tristan took a seat near the ceiling, enjoying the show. Immovable object and inexorable force meeting, quite a show.

"No, Yorkshire. It's rather — not the thing to discuss where and what and so forth of one's entryintotheghostlyreamsyouknow."

"Just trying to be helpful," Adam assured him, widening his eyes in mock innocence. "Sometimes that does preclude politeness."

"AhyesIhavefoundthattruefromtimetotime..."

"Siegfried — he's not the bionic man — he can't listen at fifty thousand miles an hour," Tristan scolded. "You always do that when you don't want to answer."

"It's not that at all, LITTLE BROTHER!"

"It must be — you prove just by being here that ghosts can cross water! And furthermore, I've crossed the water multiple times — I just got back from Ireland!"

"And didn't even stop in to see ME when you were that close?"

"STAND DOWN!" Daniel roared, adding a third boom of thunder to the rising storm. A clatter softened his tone, as he called, "Is everything — all right, my dear?"

Carolyn had exited to let the men discuss whatever in freedom, now she called back, "Dakota just freaked over the storm. He — she — I haven't really figured out which through all that hair — knocked over a table when she hid."

"Tristan, go fix it," Daniel suggested.

"Aye-aye, Captain," he replied gloomily, with no insolence.

When he was gone, Siegfried looked from Adam to Daniel in perplexity. "How do I get through to him gentlemen? He clearly respects you both — I dare say you both fill the roles I attempted to in his life — father and brother. I cannot make him see reason!"

"I sincerely doubt he has your watch, or ever had it," Adam said, after an awkward moment. "In my professional opinion. I do know how to spot a liar, and — I can't say I've ever seen him lie. Perhaps be too honest at the wrong time or have a spin on the truth that is unusual, but not outright lie."

"Not alive either," Daniel agreed. "He was rambunctious, but not bad, just aggravating at times. I never saw him own a watch, and they were not as commonplace as now, so I would have taken note."

"Oh, I knew that," Siegfried informed them, startling both. Before more could be said, Sean, Dashire, Blackie, Dave and Thom arrived, having been sent by their wives who wanted some girl time.

All things considered, by silent mutual agreement, Daniel and Adam dropped the topic. The situation had enough potential tension without adding to it.

Having an extra large crowd made the game run a bit later than normal. After losing a hand or two, Siegfried made excuses and went to the kitchen where Carolyn was reading a paper on time travel and another one on the Fermi paradox to get ideas for future novels. Martha was keeping her company, though Dakota's help was not overly appreciated.

"Someone has got to train that horse of yours, Mrs. Gregg," Martha sighed as the dog nearly tripped her as it hung close to her, hoping something might descend from heaven that she should not eat, but wanted.

"I could do that," Siegfried said. "In my day, I had a rather good affinity for the canine species."

"Well, I'd be grateful," Martha nodded as she continued to inventory the cabinets, seeing what Mrs. Gregg was low on.

"Consider it done," he promised. "Ladies, I have a favor to ask you..."

"I'm not sure I can get Ed to let a ghost move in, visit, but not move in," Martha frowned.

"Oh, now, my dear," Siegfried laughed softly. "Doctor Avery and I get along quite well. I regret not pursuing a medical career in life, now. It is clearly fascinating. No, it's nothing like that, but I do appreciate the thought. It's my brother."

"I don't think he'd willingly move in with Linden," Martha shook her head. "He seems to do well at Jenny's. I think he and her husband are considering forming a band?"

"I've heard that rumor," Carolyn agreed. "Something our young reverend seems to like the idea of — he wants to have some more upbeat music in services."

"Oh?" Siegfried looked surprised, but let it go without asking for details. "In any case, when I was having my — interview with Mister Pierce and Captain Gregg, it became abundantly clear what I already suspected — I do not know my little brother at all. If I ever did. That is not the case with you ladies — or with any of your family, most of them anyway. Your husband and young Adam attested to his integrity and penchant for being an irritant, but in an affectionate way even when admitting his faults. I suspect that Mister O'Casey and Lord Dashire's reports would be similar."

Martha and Carolyn nodded.

Siegfried paused, clearly unsure of what to say next. "I want to know more about him. Linden was not helpful in this matter; her memories of his time in Schooner Bay are vague. She does recall seeing him at a dance and a few other things afar off with your daughter, Candy, and that following the dance her son realized that you had a daughter not two sons, and beat himself up over missing his chance. That tells me little, I fear."

Carolyn looked to Martha. How much could they say without violating confidences? Still, something about Siegfried appealed to them; they wanted to help.

"He was always useful — when not playing a trick of some kind," Martha said, "and even then, he could make anyone smile and forget how bad things might be. I have the news clippings at home of how he frightened off tourists when that whole body in the basement thing was going on — and I certainly was glad he was around to keep an eye on the kids, protect them from the ugliness when we adults were busy dealing with it."

"Ah, yes. Well, it's no surprise he gets on well with children."

Carolyn searched for a memory. "He did make quite an entrance though. When he first arrived, he was very needy of attention. Once he got it, and got focused on a project, I can't call him calm, but less hyper."

"Project?"

"Initially, music lessons, for Candy — Jon has a tin ear. Though when baseball season rolled around later he was able to help the other ghosts give Jon practice — we almost had enough for our own team with four ghosts and two kids. Well, Tris' teaching skills made Daniel recall how patiently he dealt with Elroy..."

"Qualifies him for sainthood, that," Martha agreed with a nod.

"Ah, yes, I've heard a few comments in re: Elroy."

"He was not the most able ghost, still isn't, really, but Tris, in life, was always on his side when other guys picked on Elroy. That made Daniel think that Tris could hone Elroy's power control a bit. I'm pretty sure it worked. After that, he drifted some, but kept returning home. Here, our family, extended and not, had become home to him. When Jenny moved in, he helped her remember how to laugh — she'd just lost her parents. Something he understood better than any of us really." Carolyn frowned, she wasn't sure of what one of the ghosts recalled of his parents, but shoved that to the back of her mind for later. "And — well — I'm afraid that often Jon got the lion's share of attention in the kids' early years. Tris evened that out a bit, that's how the bond formed between him and Candy. When she became a young lady, he was the least surprised, though her old buddies hadn't woken up yet..."

"As Linden said."

"Yes. So, when that depressed her, he fixed things. Or he said it was for her, but I think it ran deeper than that. It was easy to see that he was — they were fairly serious, and when I privately expressed concern to Daniel — he did remind me that in his day, a girl her age would likely be married, maybe for a year or two even." She sighed. "I don't regret too many moments since moving to Gull Cottage..." Visions of monkey-puzzle trees, Vanessa, and antique movers danced in her head at that. "But even though loving the Captain is the best time of my life, it did set a precedent that might have been very easy to follow..." Carolyn took a sip of coffee to hide her slight blush. "We hated it when he left, but all of us, most of us anyway, understood. We're glad to have him back."

Siegfried frowned thoughtfully. "You have given me much to think about, my dears." He studied the table intently. "I will ponder it — but first — I did promise Mrs. Peavey to train yon behemoth. Come, Dakota, we're going for a walk."

Instantly perking up at the word 'walk,' Dakota trotted over to Siegfried, who opened the back door with a wave.

"Did I say too much?" Carolyn asked her oldest friend.

"Just enough," Martha assured her with a pat on the shoulder.

XXX

A week of détente' went by with the only really major event being Carolyn sending Tristan's memoirs over to Siegfried.

Two weeks had elapsed since Siegfried burst in upon their lives. In that time, Dakota had become a more mild-mannered mutt, though still somewhat flighty. However, Siegfried could not impart intelligence to the poor thing. Linden's shelves meticulously organized, in an order comprehensible only to Siegfried, and no progress had been made on getting the baby shower together.

Thus, on the day of the third poker game in that time frame, Linden, Martha, and Candy came along to confer with Carolyn. Orders to keep things to a mild roar on pain of something dire, though Linden was not sure what yet, were strictly given, and obeyed.

Hours passed. Only when Candy yawned did anyone realize this.

"We'd better wrap up," Martha advised. "Some of folks do have long drives."

"We got done ages ago," Linden agreed, "we've just been gabbing. Want me to go break the guys up?"

"Have at it," Carolyn agreed through a yawn.

No one looked up when the doctor entered the parlor. Clearing her throat, Linden called, "Hey — I know most of you don't need sleep, but some of us do. So, how shall I put this — wrap it up."

"Sorry, Mom," Thom looked abashed.

"Good gracious!" Siegfried said at the same moment. Reaching in his pocket reflexively, he pulled out a watch and checked the time. "My little brother's rapscallion ways must be rubbing off..."

"Don't call me—" Tristan began, and then stopped suddenly. "What is that in your hand?"

For the first time, Siegfried looked down. "Why it's a watch..."

"Let me see that!" the younger ghost demanded. "It's great grandfather's watch — isn't it? The one I'm accused of stealing?"

"It's another one — the one that replaced it," Siegfried began, moving as if to put it away. "And you weren't accused, per-se."

"Ah, ah" Adam interjected. "Search warrant. Invisible one. Hand it over."

"I agree," Daniel put in. "The majority rules, we see the watch."

Reluctantly, Siegfried allowed it to be passed over to Blackie, who was honor bound as a pastor to be the most honest.

"Xavier Matthews, Yorkshire 1803," he read, showing it to Sean for confirmation, because he was closest.

"Great Grandfather's name," Tristan smirked. "So — why are you really here, brother?"

Silence stretched into infinity, then, in a taut voice, Siegfried commanded, "OUTSIDE — BROTHER."

In that stunned moment, the Matthews brothers vanished.

By now, Carolyn, Martha, and Candy had entered the room.

"Should we—? Carolyn began, nervously.

"No, let them handle it," Daniel shook his head.

Ed scowled, muttering something about spooks that earned him multiple glares. "I was just saying," he justified, "it's downright spooky they way they do that, poppin' in and out."

"Let's go home, Ed," Martha sternly instructed.

Sean and Blackie agreed on the wisdom of that, and took their leaves. Adam had to be in court at eight, and so reluctantly followed, along with Dave, who was anxious to make sure Jenny was all right after a totally alone evening. Linden laughingly promised him she likely had not broken. However, Dashire opted to stay, since Tristan was his co-haunter, and Linden, though she faced an early day as Adam, felt somewhat responsible for Siegfried. Therefore, she accepted an afghan on the window seat. Thom reminded Candy they had a long drive ahead, preventing her from offering to stay and help Mom make sure they were all right.

Down on the beach, Tristan fired the opening round. "All right, Siegfried — let's have it. Why in all blazes are you here? You heard I was actually having a good life and just had to ruin it? Blast it — I'm happy here. I love all of them — they—" He broke off, unable to find the right words to express it all.

"We are family as well, you know," Siegfried replied so quietly that it threw Tris, who was on alert for raging anger and indignation. "Is it so wrong to want to know what happened to you after you ran off, abandoning me and the farm?"

The calm fury of those words went unheard; Tristan only heard the accusation. "So? The sea was my calling — just like the farm was yours — Isolde left before I did — and you aren't out hounding her!"

"Isolde got married—"

"That's why I left — I couldn't stay with only you for company!"

"—And died peacefully — after sixty happy years. She went on to the light — I was at her bedside, in this form, and kept an eye on her grandchildren for years afterward. They thought of me as their angel — if they noticed me at all!"

"So? Her call was to be a mother — mine was to be free — and you obviously enjoyed being a gentleman farmer, which does not explain..."

"Enjoyed? Why the devil do you think I enjoyed it?"

Caught off guard, Tris goggled, "You didn't?"

"No — but I did what I had to!"

"Yeah, right."

As Tristan turned away, Siegfried popped right into his face. "You will hear this, right now. I did not have any more desire to be a farmer than you did — but it was my duty. How old were you when Dad died?"

"Seven — eight. Something like that."

"I was eighteen..."

"I can do the math."

"Shut up. Just shut up and listen. I had dreams too — but I gave them up. Do you remember that I left home right before Dad died — to find my fortune on the stage? I hadn't gotten far when I got word that Dad came after me, on Clancy — the one we called the devil horse. It threw him, but he didn't die right off. Maybe he held on until I got there. With his dying breath, he charged me to take care of the twins and the farm. I vowed to do so — and I did. When you started making noises about leaving, blast it — I didn't want you to make my mistakes."

"It wasn't the same at all," Tristan half-heartedly protested.

"I said be quiet!" Siegfried yelled. "I did my duty, is it too much to ask that you do the same? It was what I had to do — you and Issy were mere children, and Mother had been gone for five years, since right before Ultan. If I had followed my 'dream,' what would have become of you and Isolde?"

Tristan could not meet his brother's eyes. Looking down, he scuffed his toes in the sand. "So — it's not the watch... and we've both been ghosts a while... why are you here?"

"I'd rather not talk about it anymore..."

"Sig..."

"I didn't even know when you died — or that you hadn't gone on like Isolde. Then, I heard tales about a cadre of ghosts living rather humanly. Your name kept popping up... and so, I came as soon as possible..."

"Why wasn't it possible sooner?" Tris asked, looking up, but his brother had vanished again.

Well, he'd get the rest of the story out of him, but later. He had a lot to think about now.

XXX

Later was not destined to come it seemed, as their positions reversed with Tristan looking for Siegfried fruitlessly.

"Have you seen Siegfried?" Tristan asked, a note of slight desperation in his voice three days after the confrontation.

Adam looked up. "Did I or did I not institute a no popping policy in re my office until November when Candy finishes paralegal training and Ms. Harbottle retires, thereby rendering my office a haunt-safe zone? What if she had walked in as you poofed?"

"I was invisible until I knew it was safe to appear, now answer the question," Tristan shot back.

"I thought you wanted to avoid him?"

"Not totally! And he's not speaking to me since the other night — now that I want to speak to him... and I can't find him either."

"I can't see invisible people unless they make themselves visible — you guys can. Blackie can — the dog can — isn't he supposed to be home reform schooling Dakota?" Adam asked in exasperation. "Have you spoken to Carolyn?"

"Captain Gregg instituted a non-interference policy — that she is respecting at the moment," Tris frowned dejectedly.

"Operative phrase being at the moment," Adam said. "Go turn those puppy dog eyes on her — they have no effect on me. Or use them on your brother — he likes puppy dogs, apparently."

"He won't let me get that close — or any ghost for that matter... Sean and Dashire offered to give it a try, they thought maybe the two of them together could confine him, but if he senses a ghost on the way, he's liable to pop out suddenly."

"I do hope that he wasn't playing receptionist and did that," Adam wished aloud.

"No — but only through sheer luck — and because they won't risk disturbing the doctor's office by creating a spectral scene."

"Horrible having considerate friends, huh? So glad I don't have that problem at present," Adam smiled sarcastically.

"Oh, you." Tris flopped into the client's chair disconsolately.

Hoping to get his office back, Adam suggested, "If he didn't want to talk to you — he'd leave town completely. He's making you — er — you guys don't sweat, do you? Metaphorically sweat."

"Can you issue a subpoena to make him talk to me?"

"I couldn't do that if he was alive. Now, shoo — I have work to do. Go bang on Dave's piano or scare Clay. And no popping until Candy's here."

Muttering something that sounded rather like the word "insensitive this or that," Tristan popped definitely enough to make an actual popping sound.

Thirty seconds later, the door opened to let Ms. Harbottle's blue-tressed head stick itself inside. "Mr. Pierce — I — I could have sworn I heard voices and a pop — you weren't shot were you?"

Resisting the urge to say, "I'm not sure — I might be a ghost sitting here," Adam shook his head. "Just sounding out something."

"Oh."

Next, Tristan landed in Claymore's office.

"AAYAHACH!"

"Either I'm losing my touch or you're getting braver — the noises are getting less interesting," Tristan announced.

"Wh — wh — what d — do you want?"

"My brother."

"He hasn't been around for three days — but he's a lot nicer than you," Claymore blurted out. "He knocks. And he's redone my whole filing system. I'm sure this will be the best show we've ever had once we know what it is. So there."

Instead of a pithy rejoinder, Tristan's face turned moody, thinking about what Siegfried had told him about his dreams. "Yeah, I bet it will be. Let Dave and me know if you need musical help."

It took a moment for Clay to catch up. "Were you just nice to me?"

"Don't let it get around," Tris ordered sharply, popping out again.

Finally, he reached Gull Cottage; hearing as he did so Candy's quote about the house feeling "welcoming and cozy." Even when he felt two inches tall, at best, it did. Maybe that's what home was, a place that felt like that at your worst moments.

"Captain, I honestly can't buy a twentieth-century woman willingly going back in time — she'd bring her man to this era," Carolyn insisted.

"You mean you wouldn't come back for me, Madam?"

"Of course — but I'd do my best to talk you into coming here — especially if my family was still here."

"But our heroine is an orphan, with no family."

"But she does have running water and air-conditioning."

"And smog and rock music. The term 'music' is loosely used. Not to mention the degradation of values."

"True enough — but morals aren't totally gone to Sodom yet. And you have adjusted to the modern world. But I do appreciate the Old World values that your spirit has helped keep alive..."

"Maybe the two of them could sit down and discuss which one has to move?" Tristan suggested, alerting them that he was there. "If there's a choice — most of the time, time travel doesn't really have a reverse mechanism... I've been raiding Jen's library."

"We don't want to do the usual," Carolyn explained.

"Then have him come forward to begin with, it's not done nearly as often."

Husband and wife looked at each other. "It could work," he allowed. "Pity Jen can't teleport so we could ask her."

"There is the phone," Tristan suggested.

"I keep hoping that monstrosity will turn out to be a delusion," Daniel scowled. "Couldn't it at least have a less buzzy noise? Ringing is what a carillon does in a church tower — not that shrilling screech."

"Musical ring sounds, what a concept," Carolyn smiled. "We'll call our resident sci-fi expert later. I think Tris is here for a reason that has nothing to do with our book, unless he's bringing some of the sketches for the cover of the one that is finished?"

"Jenny's still working on it — trying to decide between clock styles for the background. That is kind of what I want to talk about... indirectly... that is... clocks, well, actually watches, one watch. Not the watch really, but the watch owner. How's Dakota's training going?"

"As well as can be expected, but she hasn't had a lesson in days," Carolyn said. "But he hasn't left town. Linden told me that he's still there, but has asked that no ghosts try and coerce him during office hours. She does not want Jane Shoemaker or Penny Hassenhammer seeing her assistant vanish."

"I've got to talk to him," Tristan insisted.

Carolyn and Daniel exchanged silent communication again, each recalling the times of their separations, but no rule could be found to apply here. It was highly unlikely that planting a tree would pacify Siegfried, or any of the other means of reconciliation they had utilized.

Oblivious, Tristan went on, confessing in afterthought, "But I really don't want to — I'd appreciate a mediator or two or—" he mentally counted, "five or seven or eleven... he makes me feel like a naughty little boy...still."

Motherly fortitude and ghostly control kept the Greggs from even smiling at that. "Well, we are juggling multiple projects here," Carolyn mused. "Clay's show... Jenny's shower, Candy's graduation from paralegal school... Dakota's classes... the book... maybe Saturday we could have a family meeting to discuss it — and as Siegfried is in charge of the show — he really has to be there."

"You might want to arrive with Dashire and or Sean," Daniel advised. "Three auras will be harder to read than just one."

"Right." Tristan beamed. "Thanks!"

"And come late — we would like to get some work done," Carolyn added. "Or at least be invisible until we get some done. Clay wants to put on Evita! I don't see how it's possible."

"Must he come?" Daniel asked.

"It's an excuse to get Siegfried here," Carolyn firmly stated, looking at both of them. "So, both of you — be nice."

"We will," Tristan promised.

"Until it's time not to be nice," Daniel agreed.

It was the best she could ask for.

XXX

Saturday afternoon, Gull Cottage began to fill up.

"Isn't it sort of — weird to have Jen here when we're planning her shower?" Candy asked.

"I know you guys are planning one — so I'll know when to keep free to be surprised," the older young woman shrugged. "Plus, I wanted to come along, Cousin Mom and Linden have already done most of the planning, I bet, and it's not the only thing going on — we're killing birds today. 'Sides, you're here, and I bet a graduation party is being considered for you."

"Speaking of — any news from Jon?" Martha asked.

"His teachers are amazed at how much he knows about nautical things," Carolyn laughed. "I can't imagine how he managed to do that."

"Yes, fancy that... the boy started spouting sea talk the moment he walked through the door," Martha recalled fondly. "Ed's home watching some kind of ball game — not sure which — they all look alike to me."

"We will not tell Jon that you said that," Candy promised.

Echoing earlier sentiments, Claymore pointed at Captain Gregg. "Does he have to be here?"

"It is his house, Clay," Dashire reminded.

"If they weren't fighting, I'd think they were sick," Carolyn smiled.

"Madam, I do not get sick."

"Forgive the error. Now, girls, what are your preferences on party stuff?" Carolyn asked, "and do you have your surprised expressions down pat?"

Obediently, Candy and Jenny feigned shock.

"Good. Preferences?"

"Combining the two," Blackie suggested, "all in the killing birds theme."

"Blackwood," Linden warned.

"Can't blame me for trying."

"Yes, I can. Besides, you only get to attend one. It's an all girl shower."

"What do you women do at those things?" Thom asked.

"Well, I could tell you, but I'd have to perform surgery first, and that might ruin all hopes of being a grandmother," Linden said.

"Speaking of which," Daniel began in his measured tone which allowed a long enough pause for Thom to turn paler than a ghost, "can you refer us to a vet? We're considering getting Dakota — ah — fixed."

"Good plan. I don't keep up on vets, but I can check..."

"What? That's barbaric," a voice called as Siegfried appeared. "And you didn't think to consult me at all?"

"Well, we were going to ask if you'd determined whether it's a he or she yet," Carolyn said. "You have been too absent for us to ask though."

"She. Couldn't you allow her one litter first?"

"Isn't there enough ugly in the world?" Sean asked.

"She's cute!" Candy protested.

He wisely remained silent.

"We will — consider," Carolyn compromised. "Showers and parties?"

"Up to you, Mom," Candy said. "Whatever's good."

"Ditto."

"Next item — my choir director is turning Methodist since I so unreasonably want to have one of the services be contemporary, and I have elected Sean, Dave, and Tris, where is he? — to take over," Blackie announced. "All in favor say aye, all opposed be quiet."

"Do we get a say?" Sean asked.

"What better do you have to do?"

"I am not dead," Dave reminded.

"That's why you are only one third of the group."

"I won't speak for Tristan," Sean said, "however, come on out, Tristan."

On cue, he popped in right behind Claymore. "Boo."

"Iieeouuuuuuu"

"You're improving," the youth grinned. "Sure, why not. Hello, brother..."

"Belay that — we've got two more items on the agenda!" Carolyn said. "Dave — book. Siegfried — we really need your help a bit longer!"

"Managed to get you a display at three of the big Trek conventions."

"But it has nothing to do with that?" Daniel looked puzzled.

"No, but it will be displayed by the City on the Edge of Forever area — which was a time travel romance. Cross appeal, and the promo tag will read, It's time to Read about Love. Bookmarks with that will be printed up too."

"Claymore..."

"Why can't we do Evita? It's hot. And I'd be a perfect Che... Don't cry for me, Argentina aahahah..."

Obediently, Dakota began barking.

"Good boy, girl, whatever," Daniel said approvingly. "Claymore, you were singing a girl's part!"

"We really don't have anyone in town whose voice complements yours, Claymore," Blackie tried tactfully.

"And will the budget stand the performance fees you'd owe the composer? Or mine if you fail to do so and he finds out resulting in me defending you for copyright violations?" Adam interjected.

"Fees?" Clay squeaked.

"He's right," Siegfried agreed. "You can't perform something like that without paying them. Plus set construction would be complex..."

"Which reminds me — Martha, I need a thicker door, soundproof, have Ed send me a price quote," Adam said, snapping his fingers as he recalled that.

"We can't be seen or heard, unless we wish it," Dashire told him in a "this you know" tone.

"What makes you think you are the reason?" Adam shot back. "But — if it is — remember — I can be heard, and sound like I've gone batty talking to myself if one of you pops in."

"No comment," Tristan snickered.

Ignoring Tristan, Claymore dejectedly asked, "Well, do we have to pay for any musical we put on? I'm tired of doing talent shows — and ticket sales were down last year, so the town is too."

"Yep, royalties," Adam nodded. "But an older one might be less expensive — something from the fifties or sixties, or older."

"Well, I have heard a lot about Hair," Claymore mused, oblivious to the irony inherent considering his own bald pate. Even Sig choked a bit to keep from laughing.

It was Linden who found enough vocal control to speak first. "Ah, Claymore — do you know much about it? Aside from the fact that it's probably same song, second verse to what Adam told you, well the only real advantage it would have is you could save a bit on costumes. However, I doubt that Schooner Bay is ready for that one..."

Claymore seemed totally clueless, forcing her to continue, by now turning a nice shade of pink, "There's at least one — ah — scene with no costumes at all. On anyone."

"You're kidding! I—I—I—"

"We won't be doing that one," Daniel said. "Aside from the lack of decency, the thought of some of our citizens unclad is rather..."

"Off-putting?" Tristan suggested.

"To say the least. And I would personally make sure that enough disasters plagued the production that it would never get off the ground." Daniel's voice brooked no argument, not that it appeared that anyone wanted to do so. To add emphasis a particularly loud crack of thunder sounded. "In my day, we'd never have something like that go on! This is why I wanted to have the heroine go back in time, Carolyn."

"I'd say the hero is needed here more, a good influence?" she smiled, speaking low. With that, he did not argue.

"No need to get all — youish," Claymore griped. "I have no intention of even suggesting it to the town council now. Would we have to tell anyone about doing Evita?"

"Why do it, if you don't tell anyone?" Martha asked.

"I mean — outside of Schooner Bay?" Claymore insisted. "If no one out of town knew then we wouldn't have to pay, would we?"

"True, but if anyone by some chance did find out, the lawsuit would cost far more than the royalties," Adam shook his head.

"Which means — no way," Thom affirmed to the tune of Oh how sad when a love affair dies.

"Okay, back to the drawing board," Claymore exhaled dramatically.

"Which brings me to — I'm bored," Jenny said. "I was thinking — Captain, you like my art, don't you? Don't be nice, truth."

"I do, quite a bit."

"How about a picture book for kids — of the old ships like you guys were on — with you all providing text?" Her eyes shone. "All four of you."

The four seamen exchanged glances. "I like it," Dashire spoke up.

"Aye," Sean agreed.

"Make that three liking it," Tristan said.

"Four," Daniel nodded.

"So, have we concluded all the business then?" Siegfried asked with authority.

"No," Tristan leapt up to exclaim. "Ah — Sig, I'd like to see the old place again, Adam made a good point."

"Of course I did."

"Anyway, seeing somewhere alone just isn't as good as with someone — so maybe we could take a hop over there? Just a brief one — you guys — ladies could manage without us a day or two, right?" By now, he was talking almost as fast as his brother.

"Impossible," Siegfried snapped.

"Look — I admit, I was out of line, but — Blackie — tell him — it's more blessed to forgive than to be forgiven — and I am sorry, repentant even!"

"It's not that."

"Then you forgive me — we can visit?"

Siegfried drifted to the window seat to look out, or really to look away. "If there was an old place to visit, then yes, we could. But it's not there anymore. And I've been evicted."

"How can they evict a ghost?" Linden asked.

"The technical word is exorcism, dear lady," Siegfried said gently, for once speaking with discernable slowness. "Isolde's younger children inherited the place after I — entered this state, and it was passed down in the usual manner, but farming just isn't a money-making enterprise much anymore, less so all the time. So, eventually, the last of us came along and wasn't a farmer at all, not unlike prior generations who will remain nameless. The boy was rather bookish, I think the word for him might be geek? He wanted to go into computers, home computers..."

"What a daft idea," Dashire tisked. "See — Danny, I've told you all along, you can't judge past generations by the present day relatives. We aren't the only ghosts whose descendants have let us down."

"For the last time — that — that caterwauling crooner is not my descendant or anything else!"

"I've tried to show you the family tree a doz—" Claymore began, until Dave grabbed his shoulder and hissed "shut up," applying enough pressure to make it a threat.

"In any event, while we're telling all, or while I am anyway, he sold the place. You know I'm a very social fellow, so I introduced myself to the new owners, and well — they wouldn't have any of it. Didn't want a ghost, and exorcized me."

"Was it by any chance an old bird name of Tibaldi?" Daniel asked.

With a guffaw, Sean half laughed, "From what I hear, she couldn't exorcize her way out of a paper bag..."

"It was a priest, Father Finchley. But — I didn't have to go. We aren't demons you know." Blackie nodded at that. He'd long since reconciled the issue in his own heart. Long as he didn't try to talk to ghosts that weren't on this side of the veil on their own; he wasn't in any violation.

"Adam, you can do something, can't you?" Tristan asked. "It's immoral to just toss someone out of their home after decades and decades."

Roughly a dozen pairs of eyes asked the same question.

"How quickly they forget," Adam chuckled softly. "Didn't we have a similar conversation about ten or more years ago? I told you then, people who are on record as dead a hundred years ago, or just on the record as dead for any amount of time, can't appear in court much less file suit or be character witnesses, etc. I'm not even authorized to practice law in England!"

Siegfried went on, "Don't concern yourself. I decided that if they didn't want me — well, to paraphrase one of your presidents, they weren't going to have Siegfried Matthews to kick around anymore. I left... Some bards from the old times roam around the world, and I'd heard tales about my little brother... I was hoping... but it seems I'm not wanted here either..."

Multiple voices rose to protest that, but Tristan's rose above them all, "I do want you here, brother. Really... I just don't want you running my afterlife... I've grown up... but I still care about you. I'd like to have you as a friend still..."

"And Dakota is attached to you," Daniel added gruffly.

"It's nice not being home alone, you know," Linden said, then in irritation continued on the same breath, "stop looking at me like that, Thomas! It's not that at all! Even if it was — oh please."

"You can get in more trouble just living and breathing, Cuz," Blackie laughed.

"I can't pull off the show alone," Claymore whined plaintively. "Well, I could, but I'm a busy man, and it really will take too much of my time..."

"You really want me to stay?" Siegfried asked, but he looked only at his brother as he said it.

"Yeah."

"Well, then. Doctor, is my room still available?"

She nodded.

"None of us get rooms," Dashire protested.

"It's a figure of speech," Linden said, not denying or affirming either way.

"Well, we've solved at least half of the world's problems in one day," Blackie declared. "Permission to adjourn?"

"Seconded," Carolyn agreed.

"No," Claymore piped up. "No — the town council meets Tuesday to determine the musical so auditions and rehearsals and all the other stuff can start — and I have to have ideas, and you all shot mine down. And I still say — if we keep it quiet, Evita would be perfect for moi. There's that one song in there I just love. Love."

Thom looked at Blackie who looked over to Dave and Jenny, they in turn looked over at Dashire, Sean and Siegfried. Silently they deferred to Martha, who shook her head and looked at her employers. For once, Daniel refused to take the bait, so it fell to Candy, then Tristan, Adam, and finally, Linden sighed, "Okay, what song?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Clearing his throat, Claymore belted out, "And the money kept pouring in from every side..."

"I really think 1776 would be better, wouldn't he make a perfect John Adams?" Tristan asked brightly.

"Ha, I still remember him," Claymore declared under his breath, with a glare at his 'uncle.' "And John Adams."

Sounding as if he was choking, Adam reminded them all, "What I said about royalties would also be in application to this one. And should you go against my advice, I will not be under any obligation to defend you on copyright infringement allegations."

"Claymore," Carolyn said gently, "why not one of Lerner and Lowe's? They're well loved, fairly old, so might not cost too much, and most people are familiar with them. Evita — most people'd be saying what's that?"

Grumbling, Claymore was the first to leave.

"Go on ahead of me, Doctor," Siegfried asked as Linden paused at the door, knowing that most of the ghosts loved to ride in cars. "I wish to speak to my brother about something."

The two ghosts moved out to the porch as the humans gradually left.

"Why would you — AN ENGLISHMAN for pity's sake — suggest 1776?"

Tristan looked over toward the fence to make sure Claymore was well out of earshot. He was but Adam wasn't; he lingered nearby. With a wicked glance at Adam, Tristan nodded. On cue the two chorused, "He's obnoxious and disliked."

"I know that, sirs," Daniel finished, popping in on the last syllable.

XXX

The next few days passed by with no one chasing anyone or hiding from anyone else.

It was so quiet that Carolyn thought perhaps life had become as normal as it ever got there, for a while anyway.

Before she could make that comment, Claymore arrived on the Friday following the meeting. Because of some conflicts schedule wise, the men had decided to move their game to Friday night, so Siegfried was already there along with Sean to help in set up. Carolyn and Linden had decided to drive over to Candy and Thom's for the evening.

"Are you joining the game, Claymore?" Sean asked as the chairs began rearranging themselves under his watchful eye.

"Could I?" Claymore looked hopeful.

"You might have to pay us all — if you lose," Daniel advised. "Did you need something, Claymore?"

"Pay? Oh, well, oh — I'm glad you're here too Siegfried — this concerns you."

Warily, Daniel and Siegfried waited for him to continue.

"Yes?" the Captain finally prompted.

"Well, we had a meeting — in town — the town council, you know?"

"You did mention that," Sean nodded.

"Well, we took Mrs. Muir's suggestion — Lerner and Lowe?"

"Gregg."

"Oh, right. I — er — I'm not used to it yet, and that makes it sound like we're..."

"Perish the thought," Daniel said sternly.

"Certainly, I mean not that she's not — but I — er..."

"Just tell us your news," Siegfried suggested.

"Well, it's going to be My Fair Lady," Claymore blurted before his foot could get so far in his mouth it'd take surgery to remove. "Deke wanted Brigadoon, but the numbers for hiring a choreographer — I KO'd that."

"Good choice. Fine music, good dancing, and the humor is balanced perfectly in that one," Daniel approved, proud of himself for saying something nice to Claymore.

"I'm glad you said that," Claymore grinned. His tone should have been a warning.

However, Daniel said, "How many tickets do you need to sell to make your quota? I promise to buy at least two. More even. I'd help any way possible for the old seaman's home, and what is you're financing this year — a new heat pump?"

"That's right. I'm glad you said that... did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"You'd help any way possible — as in with your last ounce of strength?" Claymore asked edgily, dancing a bit backwards.

"Aye..."

"With your last breath?"

"If I breathed..."

"To your last penny?"

"Mrs. Gregg might have something to say on that," Siegfried guffawed.

"Er — well — it won't be necessary anyway... He doesn't have to give even one penny..."

Tristan arrived then. "I don't like the sound of this..."

However, Clay was too focused to be rattled this time. "We've devised a — a unique honor for you, uncle..."

"Honor? Everyone thinks Daniel Gregg is dead, so how can an honor for him — me — affect me as Danny Miles?"

"Well, it's not about Daniel Gregg — uncle."

"Don't call me UNCLE."

"Good luck with that," Tristan noted dryly, looking at his brother.

"We want you to star — you're down for Higgins. No audition even — you have the perfect dignity and voice — and you did say you would do anything..."

"That you did, Captain," Siegfried said. "You shouldn't even consider shirking such an honor."

"I'm glad you agree — you're Pickering," Claymore grinned.

"You shouldn't even consider shirking such an honor," Tristan parroted.

"If you even think of casting me as Alfred, I'll race Danny to nail you to a mizzenmast," Sean warned. "If you think Tristan can give you grief—"

"Oh, no, we've found a superb actor for the role, who will bring unimagined depth to that part, with a little bit o' luck," Claymore airily declared.

"Who?" Tristan asked with a frown.

Bowing, Claymore announced, "C'est moi., c'est moi, 'tis I."

"Wrong musical, you moron," Daniel sighed in resignation.

Siegfried looked over at Tristan, "You were right."