Still don't own anything. Thanks to the creators of Highlander for letting me play, though. The plot is, hopefully, thickening.

My English Lit professor quite looked the part, with shaggy blond hair and wire rimmed glasses. He even tended to wear those blazers with the patches on the sleeves. He was a fairly good teacher, although he tended to focus on things that, to my mind, weren't all that important. When we did the poem Kubla Kahn one of the test questions was 'who was the man from Porlock'. That's fine for a trivia question but I didn't think it appropriate when we were supposed to be analyzing the poem, not some episode in the poets life that probably wasn't even true. What was worse, I got the answer wrong. I hate feeling stupid. He did make up for it somewhat when he handed back our papers on Gulliver's Travels. I got an 'A', and after class he called me up to his desk to discuss my theme. "Most people tend to chose the Lilliputians, being the most recognizable part of the book," he said, smiling at me, 'but you chose the Immortals that Gulliver meets. Why?"

'Because I know an Immortal' probably wouldn't be a prudent answer, so I told him, "I just find that part of the book interesting, and very sad. Those people are doomed to get older and older, and have all the people they love pass away from them."

"Some people would think living forever would be a good thing."

"Not the way Swift wrote it, with them aging but never dying. He wasn't much of a people person, was he?"

Professor Leville laughed at that. "To say the least. At any rate, it was refreshing to read something that didn't have to do with the tiny people. I thank you."

"Thanks for the A grade." I said my good byes and left the classroom feeling pretty good about myself. Maggie accosted me at the door.

"Guess what!" she said excitedly, but didn't give me a chance to answer. "He asked me out!"

"Who? Not Lord Byron?" Lord Byron was the name we gave to this boy who sat behind us in the English Lit class, because he had dark curly hair and very deep brown eyes, and looked a bit like the poet. Certainly had the same attraction to women as Lord Byron, at any rate. Maggie'd been crushing on him for weeks.

"Yes!" She squealed, and we did the girlfriend thing of jumping up and down and shrieking happily. "Now we just have to get someone for you."

"Um...no. I'm fine, thanks."

"Oh, right. Professor Hottie. You're doing the whole 'forbidden love' thing."

"No, we're not." I said indignantly. "I'm doing the 'unrequited love' thing."

"I don't know. From what Anne says there seems to be a definite..."

"Atmosphere, I know." I was saved from further teasing by the ringing of my cell phone. "That's my mom. I'll catch up to you in the dining hall."

Maggie trotted off, and I answered my phone. "Darling, I have some news for you." Mom said before I even had a chance to say hello. "Dr. Mitchell wants to take me on a cruise."

"That's great mom. You don't sound too happy about it, though. Is everything okay with you two?"

"Yes, everything is wonderful. The thing is, he booked the trip for Thanksgiving weekend."

"Oh." I wasn't quite sure what to say. "And you're going?"

"Darling, I won't go if you don't want me to, but the tickets are non-refundable and it is only four days, and Christmas break is right around the corner, and you'll be home for a month then. Robert, Dr. Mitchell, feels really badly about this, but he didn't think you were coming home on Thanksgiving, because it's such a long way to travel."

He didn't bother to ask, either, I wanted to say, but I didn't because that would be childish and petty. I could tell how much this meant to her. "No, mom, it's fine. Lots of kids stay on Thanksgiving. I'll be fine. It's good. I'll save some money, and like you said, I'll be home at Christmas. You have fun on your cruise. Bring me a present."

Poor Mom. I could tell she was torn between excitement for the trip and guilt over abandoning her daughter. "Maybe you can go home with one of your friends. That would be nice."

Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen either. "I am so sorry," Maggie said when I told Anne and her at lunch, "My family are traveling to my Gran's in Oregon for Thanksgiving. I'd bring you if I could, but there's barely enough room for me."

"You could come home with me," Anne said. "My mom always says the more the merrier."

I shook my head. "No, you're bringing Richie home to meet the folks. I'd just be in the way. Thanks, though."

They both stared at me so sadly, I had to laugh. "I'll be fine, guys. It's just four days, and one meal. It's no big deal."

Still, I was feeling a bit sad when I went to the Dojo that afternoon for my Kendo class. Duncan, being the perceptive gentleman he was, immediately noticed and asked me what was wrong, so I told him.

"Well, why don't you come here for Thanksgiving dinner, then?" he asked, surprising the heck out of me. "I'm just having a couple of friends over, nothing too fancy. I'd love to have you."

"You'd love to have me?" I repeated weakly, then, realizing how that sounded added, "For dinner? I would be...I'd...thank you. I'd love to come. I'll bring the pie."

Maggie and Anne were as excited as I that I was going to be in a completely social setting with Dunan Macleod. Not that I was getting my hopes up or anything. We immediately tore through my closet looking for something appropriate for me to wear, but they rejected every one of my dressy outfits (not that I had many) and finally Anne announced dramatically that we had to go shopping.

Honestly. It was like something out of a teen movie; the bit where there's a music montage and you see the three main characters trotting through the mall, with a quick edit of me in different outfits. Only it took much longer than a movie montage, and I was getting pretty frustrated by the time we got to the last store.

And then I found it. The perfect dress. Now, I'm not one of those people who were ever terribly interested in fashion, but this dress looked like it was designed with an evening with Duncan Macleod in mind. It was a knee length shift dress in dark green silk, and had a fitted tartan jacket that was, unless I was very much mistaken, the same pattern as the Macleod clan's plaid. I tried it on, and it fit like it was made for me, and the color, as Anne said, complimented my red hair nicely. There was only one problem. "One-hundred and twelve dollars!" I stared at the price tag in disbelief. "Youch." I looked at myself in the mirror again. It looked so nice on me, and it was so perfect. Still. "I can't spend that much money on a dress I'm only going to wear once."

"Look at it this way," Maggie said, "You would have spent more on a ticket home. Think of it as a consolation prize for having to stay here, while your mom's off having fun on a cruise."

"And, it's a classic dress. You'll probably wind up wearing it plenty of times," chimed in Anne. "The dress is sleeveless, too, so you could wear it in the spring. And every woman should have one expensive outfit in her closet."

There's nothing like friends to help with shopping rationalizing. I was convinced. I bought the dress.

And, ultimately I was glad I did. I felt really good about myself as I entered Duncan's apartment for the first time, pie in hand. "You look stunning," he told me as he took my coat, and that compliment alone was worth the one hundred and twelve dollars.

Then he led me into his living room where his other guests were already waiting, where I was about to have a very unexpected surprise. "Molly, let me introduce you to my cousin Connor Macleod and my friend, Joe Dawson."

I turned to see Duncan's watcher glaring at me. "Molly. What are you doing here?"

Uh oh.