Disclaimers: See Chapter 1
~Indicates Gaelic~
**********************************************************
~"Maggie, please don't fuss so much," Ailíse settled the covers over herself.~
~"Ye never change...tsk...tsk...ye were always an independent lass," Maggie chuckled, fluffing a pillow behind her head.~
~"Always?" Ailíse studied the woman for a moment.
~"Aye since you were a babe. Now get some sleep, luv, and ye call 'ol Maggie if'n ye be needing anythin'," Maggie reached to dim the light.~
~"Maggie?"~
~"Aye?"~
~"Who is he?"~
~"I canna tell ye, luv. That ye'll 'ave ta remember on yer own...and mind me now ye bes' not be up ta any of yer tricks."~
~"Maggie?" Ailíse frowned, crossing her arms. ~
~"Now donnae' ye be given me tha now," she shook a finger towards Ailíse. "Get some sleep...I'll be close by if ye be needin' anythin'." ~ She watched her snuggle down in the bed before turning the lights off. Taking a seat close by the bed, Maggie kept her vigil.
*****
"What's wrong?" Scarlett placed her hand on Flint's shoulder, noticing his head hung low.
"Where do I start?" He gazed towards the window, twirling a pencil through his fingers.
"How about with what Hawk had to say...hmm?"
"For starters...they have to let Zarana go on a technicality. The prosecutors messed up BIG time so she's getting off Scott-free."
"You're joking...tell me you're joking," she fumed, grasping the armrests of the chair.
"I wish I was," he harrumphed, shifting in his chair. "They dropped the ball and there's not a damn thing we can do about it except let her walk."
"When?"
"Hawk's dragging it out as long as he can while we find a way to use this to our advantage." He growled, snapping the pencil in his grasp and sending the shards flying.
"What else did Hawk say to you?" She ducked one of the shards, brushing a piece from her sleeve.
"I really did it this time, Scarlett," he tucked his lower lip in, tracing the tip of his tongue over it while he found his words. "Jason paid a visit to Hawk this afternoon."
"And?" She prodded him.
Lifting his hand, he rubbed his jaw. "I didn't tell Jason everything that happened after that mission to Aberdeen. Lady Jaye and I had been on the assignment posing as a couple."
"Well that's a given. I mean, the two of you weren't exactly going through a walk in the park on that one, from what I recall. Weren't you after one of Destro's shipments?"
"Yeah...we stopped it from going through to the smugglers," he leaned forward, picking up a piece of paper from the floor. Rolling the paper into a small ball between his index finger and thumb, he looked past Scarlett.
"Flint," she grabbed his hand to stop him. "What happened? I thought everything went smoothly."
"It did," he flicked the paper from his hand. "We could have left immediately since we both had leave coming up..."
"But you stayed...didn't you?" She smiled, recalling how happy Lady Jaye had been when she came back from Scotland.
"Yep," he chuckled softly. "We'd heard about the Highland Festival and decided to cancel our original plans. It didn't matter to me...really. It turned out to be one of the best trips we took," he grinned, recalling the festival.
"So, what's the problem?"
"Remember the whole handfasting thing with Ian?" He sneered the name.
"Well, yeah, it's one reason we're hiding." She pulled a chair over to sit so she could face him.
"It's not legal...Jason found the proof he needed," he rested his hands on his thighs as he stretched back, staring up at the ceiling.
"It couldn't be legal...she wasn't in her right frame of mind."
"Not only that...she's already taken." He grinned back at her.
"What?" Scarlett stared back with her mouth agape.
Taking a deep breath, Flint shifted back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head. "We were coming back from a picnic when we came across a small crowd. A few couples were going through the handfasting ritual....no...*he caught her stunned look * we weren't planning to. We had been watching re-enactments throughout the day and someone had pointed it out to us. You know, the 'Braveheart' battles and all that. At any rate, I got it into my thick skull to tell her exactly how I felt. It just seemed right." He leaned forward bringing his hands to his face as he rested his elbows on the armrests.
"She knew how you felt," she interrupted placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Let me finish," he took a deep breath, lowering his hands. "What I thought was a re-enactment, wasn't..."
"You mean, you and she..." Her eyes widened as she watched him slowly nod. "And Hawk?" She pointed to the phone.
"Knows it all, courtesy of Jason," he lowered his gaze to the floor.
"Does she know it was real?" She caught his eyes rolling up. "No, I guess she didn't...oh...man. Hawk busted you, didn't he? That's why you're like this," she gestured to him in the chair.
"No...I knew what I was getting into when we got together. Hawk's pissed he didn't know about this before Jason told him.... well that and the fact he thinks we were intentionally hiding it from him." Flint sighed his exasperation, lowering his head once more.
"If she's married...I mean handfasted to you then Ian's not even an issue," Scarlett reasoned, reaching for his arm. "Flint...Flint..." She shook his arm. "What's really bothering you if it isn't Hawk?"
"She doesn't know me...she was afraid of me. You saw her, Scarlett." He clenched his jaw. "If she can't remember me or the Joes, she'll return to them and..."
"She doesn't love him. She was running away...remember? With the necklace gone, Doc says she should start putting things together on her own. Speaking of which, I can't wait till she figures out she's...ah...handfasted to you."
"Grrr...damn Destro for putting her through this," he stood quickly, sending the chair toppling over as he slammed his hands down on the desk. "When I get my hands on that bastard..." He roared, sweeping the desk clear with his arm.
"You got her back." Scarlett looked up, gathering the files.
"Have I?" He rested his weight on his knuckles, staring at a picture of Lady Jaye on a small table across from him.
******
"Ian...Don't go near him! You heard Destro's warning," Patrick blocked him from entering the pub.
"What the bloody hell do you expect me to do? My wife's missing and if he knows where she is," he lunged past Patrick, stopped short by a pair of hands dragging him back.
"Get back to the castle...NOW!" Liam growled.
"But Liam," Ian protested.
"Ian...we all want her returned safely, but charging in there isn't going to get her back."
"If she's in there..."
"She's not. Sean's men searched the inn," Liam nodded towards the bar where Beach Head sat wearing his disguise. "If he had her, he wouldn't be sittin' there. Now, get back to the castle. Destro's waiting for you."
"Fine, but I'm warning you, Liam. If we don't find her soon, I'll be the one asking him a thing or two," he sneered towards Beach Head.
*****
Ailíse slowly opened her eyes. Seeing Maggie sound asleep in the chair next to her, she carefully peeled the covers back and reached for her robe as the wall clock in the hallway struck 12. Her stomach was growling. She wondered as she slipped her arms through her robe before loosely belting the sash. Opening the door, she silently entered the hall and made her way down to the kitchen. "I'm not the only one hungry this late," she grinned to herself, spying a light beneath the door.
"Hello," she announced her presence, pushing the door open. "You?" She blanched at the sight of Flint standing behind the open door of the refrigerator.
"You're awake," he greeted her with a warm smile, stepping back to close the door.
"Guess I'm not the only one who couldn't sleep," she cautiously entered, noticing he wore only a pair of pajama bottoms. His feet were bare, much like hers.
"Yep...hungry?"
"Famished," she blushed at the sound of her stomach grumbling.
"Come on, I missed dinner too," he placed a dish on the table. "Let me see if I can find a pot or something to heat it up." She watched him reach up to open the cabinets.
"The pots are in the drawer under the stove," she walked over, removing one.
"Ah...thanks," Flint stammered, slightly confused. "I'm not sure what Maggie left for us."
"Hmmm," she drew back the foil covering the dish. "Haggis."
"Haggis?" He shuddered. "Are you sure?"
"You're not at all adventurous," she chuckled.
"What did you say?" He studied her carefully.
"I said you're not adventurous. Try it...you might like it. Come on, it's a delicacy. You may offend Maggie." She cast a mock brow.
"I'm not that hungry," he gulped, pushing the dish away from him. "I'll check to see if there's anything else?" He reached for the refrigerator door.
"Honestly," she rolled her eyes, handing the dish of haggis back to him.
"See, you didn't want it either," he grinned, leaning down to place the dish inside.
"No, actually...it's a bit heavy for my stomach this late," she leaned over the top of the door as he was removing a pitcher of milk and a pie.
"Now, that's more like it," she grinned, knowing not to tell him what it was but unsure why she shouldn't.
"I'll turn the oven on," he handed her the pitcher.
"I'll set the table."
He observed her standing on a stool, removing two plates and glasses. "Need some help?"
"No...I got it," she stepped down, placing the plates and glasses in one hand while reaching for the silverware with the other.
"The pie should be ready in a few minutes," he leaned against the counter, watching her set the table.
"Napkins?" She looked over to him.
"Huh?"
"The napkins are behind you. Could you pass them to me?" She smirked.
"Where?" He frowned, turning to search for them. "I don't see them."
"Never mind, I'll get them," she walked over to where he stood.
"Not here...hmm?" She scanned the room, tilting her head towards a shelf on the far wall. "There on that shelf," she pointed, reaching for a chair at the table.
Flint watched her step up on the chair to reach the shelf. Stretching up on her toes, her fingertips barely brushed the edge of the shelf. He saw the chair shifting precariously. "Allie..." He rushed forward, extending his arms as she slipped sending the chair crashing to the floor. Catching her in his arms, he sighed as he cradled her to his chest. "Lady... you're making a habit out of ..."
"Thanks," she cut him off. "You can put me down."
"Uh...sure," he set her feet on the floor. "Here," he pulled down a small stack of napkins.
He walked back towards the stove, removing the pie. "Smells good," he grinned, setting the plate down. He watched her slice a huge portion for him before serving herself.
"Bon appetite," she winked, passing him the plate. She suppressed a grin, observing him as he ate. "How is it?" She waited for him to take a drink.
"It's good...how's yours?"
"Delicious," she cast a humorous smirk, watching as he cut into his pie for another bite.
"All right, what gives?" He leaned forward.
"Sorry?"
"What's so funny?"
"You."
"Me? Why?"
"You balked at the haggis but never mind," she returned to her dinner.
"I guess I'm not that adventurous when it comes to new foods," he shrugged.
"If you're mother never made it, you'd never eat it," she sighed heavily.
"What did you say?"
*Yawning * She patted her mouth. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm still sleepy."
"What did you mean about my mother?"
"Tell me something, do you ever try new foods? Or, are you just a meat and potatoes kind of guy?" She asked, leaning on her elbow.
"What did we just eat?"
"Kidney pie," she watched his eyes go wide.
He stood up, towering over her.
"Are you all right?" She leaned back to face him, tracing her tongue over her dry lips.
"That wasn't funny," he growled.
"No, it wasn't...I'm sorry but you didn't ask. Did you?" She smirked, sliding her chair back.
"No, I didn't," he stopped her retreat.
"I'll set the plates in the sink," she offered, standing up.
"Would you have told me?"
"Depends," she chuckled, walking to the sink with the plates. Rinsing them with cold water, she tilted her head up at his shadow along the wall.
"On what?"
"I don't know your name so I can't exactly say...oh by the way...Da," she paused, turning to face him. "Who are you? I know what Maggie said...is it true?"
"I can't tell you," he reached across her for a towel to run over the counter.
"Why not?" She clamped her hand down on his. "You brought me here, didn't you?" She saw something in his eyes that confused her. A sadness drifted in and out of his eyes. She had noticed him watching her throughout their meal.
"It's getting late. Maggie's going to have a fit if she finds you're gone?" Flint gently removed his hand from hers. "Come on," he nodded towards the door.
"Yes sir," she fumed, tossing her towel into the water with a splash. "Great...look at this mess." She glanced down at her robe, soaked from the splash. "Grrr..." She heard Flint chuckling as she stepped back. "It's not that funny, pal." She glared only to hear him laugh harder at her dismay. "Good night," she turned to leave and slipped on the tiled floor, colliding into his chest. Stunned by the collision, Flint held on to her.
"I should have called you 'crash'," he winked, looking down into her upturned face. His eyes darkened, noticing the wet fabric clinging to her.
"Cute," she snarled back, locking eyes with him. The two remained that way for a few seconds, neither sure how to extricate themselves.
"Uh...you should...uh..."
"What?" She smirked, placing her hands to his chest. She found herself unable to move as she felt his muscles beneath his shirt. Splaying her fingers, she closed her eyes as another memory swept over her, a flash of his face leaning down to hers.
Flint moved his hand to support her lower back while assisting her to stand. He saw the dazed expression on her face and traced her jaw with the pad of his thumb.
"Mmmm," she lifted her face.
"She's gone...I canna' find 'er any...oh...my," Maggie charged into the kitchen, seeing the two of them together. "Now see 'ere...the doctor said ye were ta rest. Tha doesna mean ye should be a ..." She eyed the pair breaking apart suddenly. Flint backing away from Ailíse.
"Maggie, I was just taking her upstairs," Flint interrupted, catching the mother hen's glare from her. "I mean... I was walking her to her... room."
"I'll finish cleanin' tha kitchen...ye 'er back ta 'er room," Maggie leveled her gaze on Flint. "Bridget is waitin' fer 'er."
*****
"Ailíse? Are you all right?" Scarlett cautiously approached the woman staring out the window.
"Hmmm?" She shook her thoughts, giving Scarlett her full attention. "Sorry, I was just watching the...ah..."
"He doesn't bite," Scarlett peered through the window past her to see Flint walking towards the cottage. Ailíse had been avoiding him all morning.
"I wasn't watching him," she frowned, wrapping her arms across her chest.
"No?"
"No," she scowled at Scarlett. "Who is he and why did he bring me here?"
"Ailíse," Scarlett squeezed her shoulder.
"Don't patronize me, please," she stepped away, walking towards the door.
"Where are you going?"
"For a walk...alone," she fumed, slamming the door behind her.
Maggie heard the sounds of the door slamming and came running from the kitchen to find Ailíse coming down the stairs.
"Milady?"
"I'm going for a walk," she growled, grasping the doorknob as it came flying back at her.
"Going someplace?" Flint smirked, watching her regain her balance.
"I was GOING for a walk. That's not a punishable offense, is it?" She snarled; her voice filled with agitation.
"Wot about lunch?" Maggie growled, wiping her hands in her apron.
Flint raised his hand, halting both women from speaking. "Maggie, can you find a basket? I'll take her out."
"I don't need a bloody babysitter," Ailíse snapped with eyes flaring back at him.
"No you don't, but I was headed out myself and Maggie did spend a lot of time making lunch for all of us," he narrowed his eyes on Ailíse, watching as she relented, slumping her shoulders for a second.
"Fine, I doubt I'd lose you in the woods anyway," she rolled her eyes up at him, taking a seat on the bottom step while they waited for Maggie to return.
*****
"Wait up," Flint called ahead to her, attempting to close in the lead she had taken.
"It's not much farther...just over there," she climbed up on a fallen log, scanning the area. "Over there," she shielded her hand to block the sun, pointing with her free hand.
"Where do you want to go?"
"There's a small stream running through the glen," she smiled, picturing a bubbling brook hidden beneath the trees. She caught his frown. "What? You asked where I wanted to have lunch."
"Yeah," he nodded, catching up to her. The two walked in silence until they reached the glen.
He studied her face, seeing a genuine smile. "Have you been here before?"
"I can't tell. You have to remember that on your own," she smirked, reaching for the basket. "Where's the blanket?"
Stifling a chuckle, he knelt down, removing the blanket for her. She flung the blanket out, smoothing it with her hands as she knelt down beside him.
"Hand me whatever she packed," she glanced up to see him smiling. "What?"
"Nothing," he shrugged, handing her the plates.
"Yeah...right," she observed him from beneath her lashes while she set the lunch out. She caught a glimpse of him placing something behind his back. Sitting up quickly, she growled. "What are you hiding?"
"Me? Nothing." He shook his head no.
"Don't play games...what did you hide behind your back?" She leaned to the side, attempting to look. Her eyes widened as he moved, blocking her sight. "I did not ask to be brought here...I was..." She stammered, staring at him presenting the item he had hidden.
"It's a book." He grinned, handing it to her.
"I...ah...I'm sorry," she bit her lower lip, turning the book over to see the title. "A book of poetry?" Her face was a myriad of confusion, looking from the book to him. "You read poetry?" The book fell from her hand as an image of him lying back with a book came to her. She closed her eyes, focusing on what she saw. Turning her head slightly, she slowly opened her eyes. "You've read to me before, haven't you?"
"Yes," he retrieved the book, brushing the cover off. "I found this in the study last night." He handed the book back to her, pausing while she turned the pages. Running her fingers across a page, she glanced up to see him move closer to her. Reaching for the book, "Do you have a favorite?"
"I imagine you probably know that," she licked her lower lip, settling back down.
"You don't have to get so defensive," he growled softly, gently holding her wrist. "If you tell me what you're seeing, I can help."
"Seeing," she gulped, attempting to pull away from him. He held her wrist, stopping her retreat.
"I know you're having flashbacks. You had one last night in the kitchen before Maggie came in and you were avoiding me all morning. I won't hurt you." He murmured, pulling her closer.
"Look...I..." She pushed herself away from him, raising her hands to her temples. He watched her grow pale
"Allie, don't run from me. What's wrong?" Reaching for her wrists, he moved them aside, tracing his fingertips over her temples. "Another headache?" She clenched her eyes tightly, leaning towards him.
"Hold a sec," he fumbled for the basket. "Damn, she didn't pack it," he wrapped a protective arm around her, cradling her to him as he lowered his voice to a calm whisper. "Focus on my voice...shh...that's my girl." Sighing heavily, he reached for the radio in the basket. "I'm going to call for help...take it easy," he lifted the radio, flicking it on with his thumb.
She trained her ears on his voice, taking in the rich timber. The memories playing before her eyes sharpened. She was running in a field of blue flowers, laughing to someone. A pair of hands pulled her down to a soft blanket, rolling her over to her back. She looked up into a pair of blue eyes...his blue eyes starring down at her. She giggled, slipping her hand behind his neck as she led his face down to hers and into a kiss. Her fingers played with his dark locks, tracing over the back of his neck, down his back to the belt of his kilt. "Dash," sighed heavily as he broke the kiss, lifting a worn book in his hands. A devilish grin played at the corners of his mouth as he found a dog-eared passage to recite to her. His voice was deep and rich as he spoke to her, void of a Scottish brogue. "Forget me not..." The words echoed in her mind.
"Dash..."
"
~Indicates Gaelic~
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~"Maggie, please don't fuss so much," Ailíse settled the covers over herself.~
~"Ye never change...tsk...tsk...ye were always an independent lass," Maggie chuckled, fluffing a pillow behind her head.~
~"Always?" Ailíse studied the woman for a moment.
~"Aye since you were a babe. Now get some sleep, luv, and ye call 'ol Maggie if'n ye be needing anythin'," Maggie reached to dim the light.~
~"Maggie?"~
~"Aye?"~
~"Who is he?"~
~"I canna tell ye, luv. That ye'll 'ave ta remember on yer own...and mind me now ye bes' not be up ta any of yer tricks."~
~"Maggie?" Ailíse frowned, crossing her arms. ~
~"Now donnae' ye be given me tha now," she shook a finger towards Ailíse. "Get some sleep...I'll be close by if ye be needin' anythin'." ~ She watched her snuggle down in the bed before turning the lights off. Taking a seat close by the bed, Maggie kept her vigil.
*****
"What's wrong?" Scarlett placed her hand on Flint's shoulder, noticing his head hung low.
"Where do I start?" He gazed towards the window, twirling a pencil through his fingers.
"How about with what Hawk had to say...hmm?"
"For starters...they have to let Zarana go on a technicality. The prosecutors messed up BIG time so she's getting off Scott-free."
"You're joking...tell me you're joking," she fumed, grasping the armrests of the chair.
"I wish I was," he harrumphed, shifting in his chair. "They dropped the ball and there's not a damn thing we can do about it except let her walk."
"When?"
"Hawk's dragging it out as long as he can while we find a way to use this to our advantage." He growled, snapping the pencil in his grasp and sending the shards flying.
"What else did Hawk say to you?" She ducked one of the shards, brushing a piece from her sleeve.
"I really did it this time, Scarlett," he tucked his lower lip in, tracing the tip of his tongue over it while he found his words. "Jason paid a visit to Hawk this afternoon."
"And?" She prodded him.
Lifting his hand, he rubbed his jaw. "I didn't tell Jason everything that happened after that mission to Aberdeen. Lady Jaye and I had been on the assignment posing as a couple."
"Well that's a given. I mean, the two of you weren't exactly going through a walk in the park on that one, from what I recall. Weren't you after one of Destro's shipments?"
"Yeah...we stopped it from going through to the smugglers," he leaned forward, picking up a piece of paper from the floor. Rolling the paper into a small ball between his index finger and thumb, he looked past Scarlett.
"Flint," she grabbed his hand to stop him. "What happened? I thought everything went smoothly."
"It did," he flicked the paper from his hand. "We could have left immediately since we both had leave coming up..."
"But you stayed...didn't you?" She smiled, recalling how happy Lady Jaye had been when she came back from Scotland.
"Yep," he chuckled softly. "We'd heard about the Highland Festival and decided to cancel our original plans. It didn't matter to me...really. It turned out to be one of the best trips we took," he grinned, recalling the festival.
"So, what's the problem?"
"Remember the whole handfasting thing with Ian?" He sneered the name.
"Well, yeah, it's one reason we're hiding." She pulled a chair over to sit so she could face him.
"It's not legal...Jason found the proof he needed," he rested his hands on his thighs as he stretched back, staring up at the ceiling.
"It couldn't be legal...she wasn't in her right frame of mind."
"Not only that...she's already taken." He grinned back at her.
"What?" Scarlett stared back with her mouth agape.
Taking a deep breath, Flint shifted back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head. "We were coming back from a picnic when we came across a small crowd. A few couples were going through the handfasting ritual....no...*he caught her stunned look * we weren't planning to. We had been watching re-enactments throughout the day and someone had pointed it out to us. You know, the 'Braveheart' battles and all that. At any rate, I got it into my thick skull to tell her exactly how I felt. It just seemed right." He leaned forward bringing his hands to his face as he rested his elbows on the armrests.
"She knew how you felt," she interrupted placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Let me finish," he took a deep breath, lowering his hands. "What I thought was a re-enactment, wasn't..."
"You mean, you and she..." Her eyes widened as she watched him slowly nod. "And Hawk?" She pointed to the phone.
"Knows it all, courtesy of Jason," he lowered his gaze to the floor.
"Does she know it was real?" She caught his eyes rolling up. "No, I guess she didn't...oh...man. Hawk busted you, didn't he? That's why you're like this," she gestured to him in the chair.
"No...I knew what I was getting into when we got together. Hawk's pissed he didn't know about this before Jason told him.... well that and the fact he thinks we were intentionally hiding it from him." Flint sighed his exasperation, lowering his head once more.
"If she's married...I mean handfasted to you then Ian's not even an issue," Scarlett reasoned, reaching for his arm. "Flint...Flint..." She shook his arm. "What's really bothering you if it isn't Hawk?"
"She doesn't know me...she was afraid of me. You saw her, Scarlett." He clenched his jaw. "If she can't remember me or the Joes, she'll return to them and..."
"She doesn't love him. She was running away...remember? With the necklace gone, Doc says she should start putting things together on her own. Speaking of which, I can't wait till she figures out she's...ah...handfasted to you."
"Grrr...damn Destro for putting her through this," he stood quickly, sending the chair toppling over as he slammed his hands down on the desk. "When I get my hands on that bastard..." He roared, sweeping the desk clear with his arm.
"You got her back." Scarlett looked up, gathering the files.
"Have I?" He rested his weight on his knuckles, staring at a picture of Lady Jaye on a small table across from him.
******
"Ian...Don't go near him! You heard Destro's warning," Patrick blocked him from entering the pub.
"What the bloody hell do you expect me to do? My wife's missing and if he knows where she is," he lunged past Patrick, stopped short by a pair of hands dragging him back.
"Get back to the castle...NOW!" Liam growled.
"But Liam," Ian protested.
"Ian...we all want her returned safely, but charging in there isn't going to get her back."
"If she's in there..."
"She's not. Sean's men searched the inn," Liam nodded towards the bar where Beach Head sat wearing his disguise. "If he had her, he wouldn't be sittin' there. Now, get back to the castle. Destro's waiting for you."
"Fine, but I'm warning you, Liam. If we don't find her soon, I'll be the one asking him a thing or two," he sneered towards Beach Head.
*****
Ailíse slowly opened her eyes. Seeing Maggie sound asleep in the chair next to her, she carefully peeled the covers back and reached for her robe as the wall clock in the hallway struck 12. Her stomach was growling. She wondered as she slipped her arms through her robe before loosely belting the sash. Opening the door, she silently entered the hall and made her way down to the kitchen. "I'm not the only one hungry this late," she grinned to herself, spying a light beneath the door.
"Hello," she announced her presence, pushing the door open. "You?" She blanched at the sight of Flint standing behind the open door of the refrigerator.
"You're awake," he greeted her with a warm smile, stepping back to close the door.
"Guess I'm not the only one who couldn't sleep," she cautiously entered, noticing he wore only a pair of pajama bottoms. His feet were bare, much like hers.
"Yep...hungry?"
"Famished," she blushed at the sound of her stomach grumbling.
"Come on, I missed dinner too," he placed a dish on the table. "Let me see if I can find a pot or something to heat it up." She watched him reach up to open the cabinets.
"The pots are in the drawer under the stove," she walked over, removing one.
"Ah...thanks," Flint stammered, slightly confused. "I'm not sure what Maggie left for us."
"Hmmm," she drew back the foil covering the dish. "Haggis."
"Haggis?" He shuddered. "Are you sure?"
"You're not at all adventurous," she chuckled.
"What did you say?" He studied her carefully.
"I said you're not adventurous. Try it...you might like it. Come on, it's a delicacy. You may offend Maggie." She cast a mock brow.
"I'm not that hungry," he gulped, pushing the dish away from him. "I'll check to see if there's anything else?" He reached for the refrigerator door.
"Honestly," she rolled her eyes, handing the dish of haggis back to him.
"See, you didn't want it either," he grinned, leaning down to place the dish inside.
"No, actually...it's a bit heavy for my stomach this late," she leaned over the top of the door as he was removing a pitcher of milk and a pie.
"Now, that's more like it," she grinned, knowing not to tell him what it was but unsure why she shouldn't.
"I'll turn the oven on," he handed her the pitcher.
"I'll set the table."
He observed her standing on a stool, removing two plates and glasses. "Need some help?"
"No...I got it," she stepped down, placing the plates and glasses in one hand while reaching for the silverware with the other.
"The pie should be ready in a few minutes," he leaned against the counter, watching her set the table.
"Napkins?" She looked over to him.
"Huh?"
"The napkins are behind you. Could you pass them to me?" She smirked.
"Where?" He frowned, turning to search for them. "I don't see them."
"Never mind, I'll get them," she walked over to where he stood.
"Not here...hmm?" She scanned the room, tilting her head towards a shelf on the far wall. "There on that shelf," she pointed, reaching for a chair at the table.
Flint watched her step up on the chair to reach the shelf. Stretching up on her toes, her fingertips barely brushed the edge of the shelf. He saw the chair shifting precariously. "Allie..." He rushed forward, extending his arms as she slipped sending the chair crashing to the floor. Catching her in his arms, he sighed as he cradled her to his chest. "Lady... you're making a habit out of ..."
"Thanks," she cut him off. "You can put me down."
"Uh...sure," he set her feet on the floor. "Here," he pulled down a small stack of napkins.
He walked back towards the stove, removing the pie. "Smells good," he grinned, setting the plate down. He watched her slice a huge portion for him before serving herself.
"Bon appetite," she winked, passing him the plate. She suppressed a grin, observing him as he ate. "How is it?" She waited for him to take a drink.
"It's good...how's yours?"
"Delicious," she cast a humorous smirk, watching as he cut into his pie for another bite.
"All right, what gives?" He leaned forward.
"Sorry?"
"What's so funny?"
"You."
"Me? Why?"
"You balked at the haggis but never mind," she returned to her dinner.
"I guess I'm not that adventurous when it comes to new foods," he shrugged.
"If you're mother never made it, you'd never eat it," she sighed heavily.
"What did you say?"
*Yawning * She patted her mouth. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm still sleepy."
"What did you mean about my mother?"
"Tell me something, do you ever try new foods? Or, are you just a meat and potatoes kind of guy?" She asked, leaning on her elbow.
"What did we just eat?"
"Kidney pie," she watched his eyes go wide.
He stood up, towering over her.
"Are you all right?" She leaned back to face him, tracing her tongue over her dry lips.
"That wasn't funny," he growled.
"No, it wasn't...I'm sorry but you didn't ask. Did you?" She smirked, sliding her chair back.
"No, I didn't," he stopped her retreat.
"I'll set the plates in the sink," she offered, standing up.
"Would you have told me?"
"Depends," she chuckled, walking to the sink with the plates. Rinsing them with cold water, she tilted her head up at his shadow along the wall.
"On what?"
"I don't know your name so I can't exactly say...oh by the way...Da," she paused, turning to face him. "Who are you? I know what Maggie said...is it true?"
"I can't tell you," he reached across her for a towel to run over the counter.
"Why not?" She clamped her hand down on his. "You brought me here, didn't you?" She saw something in his eyes that confused her. A sadness drifted in and out of his eyes. She had noticed him watching her throughout their meal.
"It's getting late. Maggie's going to have a fit if she finds you're gone?" Flint gently removed his hand from hers. "Come on," he nodded towards the door.
"Yes sir," she fumed, tossing her towel into the water with a splash. "Great...look at this mess." She glanced down at her robe, soaked from the splash. "Grrr..." She heard Flint chuckling as she stepped back. "It's not that funny, pal." She glared only to hear him laugh harder at her dismay. "Good night," she turned to leave and slipped on the tiled floor, colliding into his chest. Stunned by the collision, Flint held on to her.
"I should have called you 'crash'," he winked, looking down into her upturned face. His eyes darkened, noticing the wet fabric clinging to her.
"Cute," she snarled back, locking eyes with him. The two remained that way for a few seconds, neither sure how to extricate themselves.
"Uh...you should...uh..."
"What?" She smirked, placing her hands to his chest. She found herself unable to move as she felt his muscles beneath his shirt. Splaying her fingers, she closed her eyes as another memory swept over her, a flash of his face leaning down to hers.
Flint moved his hand to support her lower back while assisting her to stand. He saw the dazed expression on her face and traced her jaw with the pad of his thumb.
"Mmmm," she lifted her face.
"She's gone...I canna' find 'er any...oh...my," Maggie charged into the kitchen, seeing the two of them together. "Now see 'ere...the doctor said ye were ta rest. Tha doesna mean ye should be a ..." She eyed the pair breaking apart suddenly. Flint backing away from Ailíse.
"Maggie, I was just taking her upstairs," Flint interrupted, catching the mother hen's glare from her. "I mean... I was walking her to her... room."
"I'll finish cleanin' tha kitchen...ye 'er back ta 'er room," Maggie leveled her gaze on Flint. "Bridget is waitin' fer 'er."
*****
"Ailíse? Are you all right?" Scarlett cautiously approached the woman staring out the window.
"Hmmm?" She shook her thoughts, giving Scarlett her full attention. "Sorry, I was just watching the...ah..."
"He doesn't bite," Scarlett peered through the window past her to see Flint walking towards the cottage. Ailíse had been avoiding him all morning.
"I wasn't watching him," she frowned, wrapping her arms across her chest.
"No?"
"No," she scowled at Scarlett. "Who is he and why did he bring me here?"
"Ailíse," Scarlett squeezed her shoulder.
"Don't patronize me, please," she stepped away, walking towards the door.
"Where are you going?"
"For a walk...alone," she fumed, slamming the door behind her.
Maggie heard the sounds of the door slamming and came running from the kitchen to find Ailíse coming down the stairs.
"Milady?"
"I'm going for a walk," she growled, grasping the doorknob as it came flying back at her.
"Going someplace?" Flint smirked, watching her regain her balance.
"I was GOING for a walk. That's not a punishable offense, is it?" She snarled; her voice filled with agitation.
"Wot about lunch?" Maggie growled, wiping her hands in her apron.
Flint raised his hand, halting both women from speaking. "Maggie, can you find a basket? I'll take her out."
"I don't need a bloody babysitter," Ailíse snapped with eyes flaring back at him.
"No you don't, but I was headed out myself and Maggie did spend a lot of time making lunch for all of us," he narrowed his eyes on Ailíse, watching as she relented, slumping her shoulders for a second.
"Fine, I doubt I'd lose you in the woods anyway," she rolled her eyes up at him, taking a seat on the bottom step while they waited for Maggie to return.
*****
"Wait up," Flint called ahead to her, attempting to close in the lead she had taken.
"It's not much farther...just over there," she climbed up on a fallen log, scanning the area. "Over there," she shielded her hand to block the sun, pointing with her free hand.
"Where do you want to go?"
"There's a small stream running through the glen," she smiled, picturing a bubbling brook hidden beneath the trees. She caught his frown. "What? You asked where I wanted to have lunch."
"Yeah," he nodded, catching up to her. The two walked in silence until they reached the glen.
He studied her face, seeing a genuine smile. "Have you been here before?"
"I can't tell. You have to remember that on your own," she smirked, reaching for the basket. "Where's the blanket?"
Stifling a chuckle, he knelt down, removing the blanket for her. She flung the blanket out, smoothing it with her hands as she knelt down beside him.
"Hand me whatever she packed," she glanced up to see him smiling. "What?"
"Nothing," he shrugged, handing her the plates.
"Yeah...right," she observed him from beneath her lashes while she set the lunch out. She caught a glimpse of him placing something behind his back. Sitting up quickly, she growled. "What are you hiding?"
"Me? Nothing." He shook his head no.
"Don't play games...what did you hide behind your back?" She leaned to the side, attempting to look. Her eyes widened as he moved, blocking her sight. "I did not ask to be brought here...I was..." She stammered, staring at him presenting the item he had hidden.
"It's a book." He grinned, handing it to her.
"I...ah...I'm sorry," she bit her lower lip, turning the book over to see the title. "A book of poetry?" Her face was a myriad of confusion, looking from the book to him. "You read poetry?" The book fell from her hand as an image of him lying back with a book came to her. She closed her eyes, focusing on what she saw. Turning her head slightly, she slowly opened her eyes. "You've read to me before, haven't you?"
"Yes," he retrieved the book, brushing the cover off. "I found this in the study last night." He handed the book back to her, pausing while she turned the pages. Running her fingers across a page, she glanced up to see him move closer to her. Reaching for the book, "Do you have a favorite?"
"I imagine you probably know that," she licked her lower lip, settling back down.
"You don't have to get so defensive," he growled softly, gently holding her wrist. "If you tell me what you're seeing, I can help."
"Seeing," she gulped, attempting to pull away from him. He held her wrist, stopping her retreat.
"I know you're having flashbacks. You had one last night in the kitchen before Maggie came in and you were avoiding me all morning. I won't hurt you." He murmured, pulling her closer.
"Look...I..." She pushed herself away from him, raising her hands to her temples. He watched her grow pale
"Allie, don't run from me. What's wrong?" Reaching for her wrists, he moved them aside, tracing his fingertips over her temples. "Another headache?" She clenched her eyes tightly, leaning towards him.
"Hold a sec," he fumbled for the basket. "Damn, she didn't pack it," he wrapped a protective arm around her, cradling her to him as he lowered his voice to a calm whisper. "Focus on my voice...shh...that's my girl." Sighing heavily, he reached for the radio in the basket. "I'm going to call for help...take it easy," he lifted the radio, flicking it on with his thumb.
She trained her ears on his voice, taking in the rich timber. The memories playing before her eyes sharpened. She was running in a field of blue flowers, laughing to someone. A pair of hands pulled her down to a soft blanket, rolling her over to her back. She looked up into a pair of blue eyes...his blue eyes starring down at her. She giggled, slipping her hand behind his neck as she led his face down to hers and into a kiss. Her fingers played with his dark locks, tracing over the back of his neck, down his back to the belt of his kilt. "Dash," sighed heavily as he broke the kiss, lifting a worn book in his hands. A devilish grin played at the corners of his mouth as he found a dog-eared passage to recite to her. His voice was deep and rich as he spoke to her, void of a Scottish brogue. "Forget me not..." The words echoed in her mind.
"Dash..."
"
