In the office of the dojo, several minutes later

"I still don't understand how the two of you can be perfectly identical, and both Immortal, at that, but not twins," Duncan repeated. He poured three glasses of Scotch and handed two of them off before readjusting the collar of the shirt he had thrown on. "Yet you are related? Blood related?"

Lilith sat, stone faced, still reeling from the effects of the Quickening. Heather stood silently to the side, amazed that she no longer had to worry about a stalker chasing her. She'd never imagined that it might end this way.

"A-all right. I'll try to explain this as best I can, but, before I do, the two of you should be introduced properly. Heather Armstrong of the Clan MacLeod, I'd like you to meet Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod." She waited for the weight of what she'd just said to sink in.

"Wait. Dun- Duncan? As in, Duncan Duncan?" Heather whispered. 'I'm finally meeting the younger Highlander!'

"I'm going to start this at the beginning. On the winter solstice in 1592, in Glenfinnan, during the heat of battle, a woman who knew she would not live to raise her children gave birth," Lilith murmured. She tilted her head to regard her son. "Twins, only the clan never knew. The midwife took the boy to the clan chieftain, but the girl was taken to another family, separated to protect them."

"Twins?" Duncan breathed. "A boy and a girl?" His head was spinning. "I was a foundling. The midwife told my father that . . . that the woman's . . . my birth mother's eyes glowed red as a demon's as she bore me, moments before she herself died." He lifted his eyes to meet Lilith's. "It was you, wasn't it?"

She closed her eyes and nodded.

"Didn't you want me? Us?" he asked, terrified of what her answer would be.

"Of course I wanted you!" she insisted. "When I realised I was pregnant, I . . . I couldn't have been happier. Neither could your father. But I knew that the - I was already weak to begin with. Labour was going to kill me, as it had done before, and there was the very real chance that I might not have revived after giving birth to you. But I knew you wo-" Her voice broke.

Heather jumped in. "She knew we'd each be well cared for. An old friend of hers swore to her he'd make sure we each went to good families."

Duncan looked at his sister quizzically. It was so strange to him to realise that he had family, blood relations, right in front of him.

"Yes, she told me about all of this," Heather answered his unspoken question. "It's a lot to take in, I know. You have to . . . get used to the idea that some Immortals can have children. Then it gets easier to accept that the woman in front of us is our mother. But . . . you knew it when you first met her, didn't you? That you knew her from somewhere?"

Duncan smiled at her comment. "Of course. I knew there was something familiar about your face, the way you looked at me. And it bothered me that I couldn't remember where or when I'd met you before. But it all makes sense now. Well, maybe not all of it."

"No, there are some things that might never make sense. Like, why are some of us able to bear children while others can't? Why must we be doomed not to be able to raise our own children?" Lilith shook her head for what felt like the hundredth time that day. "There are some questions that just don't have answers."

"I have some questions that only you will be able to answer. Is Lilith your real name? Where did you grow up? Who is my father? Things like that." Duncan crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Lilith took a deep breath and cleared her throat before replying. "I have gone by many names; the earliest, the one given me by my parents, is Hetil-ur-tuk. I was born near what would soon be the western portion of Sumer and would later become part of Egypt. As for where I grew up, we were travellers; my family went from port to port as merchants. Whether the people who raised me were actually my birth parents, I'll never know, but they loved me beyond words and gave me the best that they could. We were quite happy, and that's all that mattered. Things were so different then, a completely different world in those days, simpler and so beautiful. By the time I met your father . . . Well, the centuries have a way of changing us, as you both know."

"Just how old are you, Mother?" Duncan asked softly.

She let the word wash over her. "The calender has changed so many times since my youth. And there are gaps in my memory, chunks of my life that are lost to me. For the time being, that is. The nearest I've been able to . . . determine, based on what I do remember, and some help from historians and my journals is . . . I'm younger than Methos, but I'm quite a bit over five thousand years old."

"Methos? What are you talking about?" he asked with a light chuckle. "Methos is a myth we tell -" He stopped mid-sentence and examined the expression on her face. "How did you know that I already knew who he really is?"

She grinned. "Richie. If Adam trusted him enough to tell him that, I knew you had to know, as well."

Duncan nodded. It was all making more sense. There was still one thing, one tidbit of information he absolutely had to know. "What about my - our father? Who is he?" 'I have a sister. A twin sister,' he reminded himself.

Lilith swallowed the lump that started forming in her throat. "Think about it for a minute. You don't need me to tell you what you already know."

He thought back over his life, over all the times he wished he'd known where he came from. Memories rushed back, faces of old friends, nights spent dancing, all the fun he'd had and most -

"And most of the good women," Duncan laughed. "That would mean I really am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. Is that why he sought me out?"

"He'd . . . received word of the battle and what happened afterwards. The way Connor tells it, your first meeting was a bit similar to the first time Heather encountered me."

He walked over to Heather to embrace her. "My wee baby sister."

"Only by five minutes, big brother!" she admonished with a wink. "What's five minutes in four hundred years?"

"Yes, you're right. Doesn't change the fact that I'm older. Wait, wait," he turned back to face, quite possibly, the oldest surviving woman. "You had said . . . Labour would kill you as it had done before. Does that mean you have other children?" The pair gazed at her expectantly.

"A few more, yes, all older than the two of you," she admitted. "But that's a story for another day, yes. I should really let Adam and Richie know what's happened." She tensed a half-second before her offspring. "And it seems now might be a good time for that."

A/N: That is where this story ends. While I have a few ideas for more stories with Lilith, they will be posted as separate stories. However, I want to get the rest of my in-progress fics completed before I start anything new. Work and my family come first, of course.

The names Hetil-ur-tuk and Met-hoph-phil-het are names I made up with no real regard to meaning.

Peace and love.