Chapter One: Arrival

Heero Yuy, jarred awake for the fourth time, stared out of the
train's window as the sea passed by. High above, the full moon
cast shimmering shapes onto the surface of the water far below.
He still didn't know why he was doing this. Had the pressure
really been too much? True, he was worn out from being kept on
the run by the Preventers... but even they couldn't keep him
away from the person he longed for more than life itself. No,
that person was exactly why he needed to get away.

Through all of his experiences - some he still wasn't too proud
of - the one sobering factor in his life had been Duo Maxwell.
Every time Heero closed his eyes, he imagined Duo holding out
his arms, looking up with those beautiful eyes. Since the day
they'd first met, Heero didn't know whether to be scared or
overjoyed from the feelings raging inside of him. In many ways,
the sea outside reminded him of Duo... For a moment, he could
imagine Duo Maxwell rising out of the water and floating toward
him.

'No, no, no!' Heero nearly cried out loud. 'This is exactly why
you're going away.' His feelings for Duo were eating him up
inside, and as much as he wanted to touch his hair, kiss his
nose, lick those full lips, carry him off somewhere... Heero
resigned himself to the fact that Duo would never feel the same
way.

'Stop foolin' yourself!' It had been a tough decision. Duo's
going to hate me for the rest of my life. Although having him
hate me is preferable to nothing at all, but I just can't stay.
If I can't have him, no use pining away like some kind of idiot.
If this is the closest I can get to having him, it's not good
enough. I'd rather travel the country... I can't take any more
of this.

And that's exactly what he'd done. Searching various train
schedules, Heero's eyes had lit up on a nowhere town off the
coast of Maine. Something about the name... Collinsport... had
seemed familiar.
Maybe he could stow aboard a steamer and make his way overseas
once he got there? It was a plan, and right now it was all he
had.

He settled back into the cushioned seat as the train rattled on,
toward the little town and destiny.

~ * * * * * ~

"Collinsport!" a thick, New England accent shouted.

Heero rubbed his eyes and blearily saw that it was pitch black
outside, except for the approaching lights of a train station.

"Collinsport!" the conductor called once more.

Gathering his battered duffle bag, with all of his worldly
possessions inside, Heero stretched while the train pumped to a
halt. He'd felt as if he'd been sitting forever, and the muscles
in his back were tense and sore. Moving down the corridor, he
was surprised not to see any other passengers joining him. Oddly
enough, most were deliberately staring straight ahead as if they
didn't want to see the town of Collinsport outside. Even the
train conductor seemed anxious for him to leave.

Hefting the duffel bag over his shoulder, Heero merely shrugged.
Well, when you've seen one small town, you've seen them all.
Descending the metal steps, he caught the glimmer of a grim look
on the old conductor's face. Just his luck to pick a creepy
train. Shrugging it off, he stepped off the train and onto the
fog-shrouded Collinsport platform.

It didn't take long for the train's massive engine to start up
again, pulling away from the station. Bathed only in a nearby
streetlamp, Heero shivered and pulled his leather jacket up
around his ears. "Well, I'm here... now what?"

Something at the end of the platform caught his attention.
Behind a ticket kiosk, he could see a man working. Making his
way toward it, Heero called out, "Hello!"

The man behind the glass window almost shrieked from the figure
emerging from the fog. "Hey, I was wondering if..." Heero began,
but the little man quickly closed the window and Heero was alone
once more. "Hey!" he called, banging on the door. But there was
no answer. "Great," he sighed.

From the distance he could hear the slapping of water and ship
bells. There had to be a wharf nearby, and where there's a
wharf, there's a drink! Hurrying away from the platform, he
crossed the street and strode into the town of Collinsport.

It seemed to be just your average small town, with picturesque
homes and gated fences. Most of them were in total darkness.
Checking his watch, Heero humphed sarcastically. The locals must
turn in early around here. He rounded a corner and walked along
the sidewalk next to a rather large building called the
Collinsport Inn. 'Must be what passes for a hotel in these
parts,' he mused.

Continuing on his way, he found it odd that not one single car
had gone by. What on earth had possessed him to come to Nowhere,
USA? His thoughts immediately turned back to Duo. He gave
himself a half-smile, imagining the Preventer Agent sensing
something amiss by the lack of activity.

Heero shook his head and exhaled, watching his warm breath
evaporate. 'Alright, you've got to stop thinking like that.'
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath to clear his mind and
realized that - despite the inclement weather - what he probably
needed was a cold shower. The mere thought of Duo Maxwell sent
his blood racing... Heero opened his eyes as the familiar scent
of the sea filled his senses. He must be near a dock by now, and
he could really use that drink!

After a few more minutes, he found a cluster of buildings on the
wharf. Scanning them, he was pleased to see one called The Blue
Whale, complete with fish nets and an old sign hanging above the
front door. There were lights on within, the first sign of life
in the entire town. Feeling better, he went inside.

All activity beyond ceased the moment the handsome stranger
entered the bar. Heero swallowed hard. You could have heard a
pin drop if it hadn't been for the slow, sixties-style music
playing from the corner jukebox. He shivered again, feeling as
if those eyes were boring straight through him. Clearing his
throat, he made his way through the sea of staring faces and
took a seat at the bar.

"I'll have a vodka," he told the barman.

Nodding, the barman quickly fixed the drink and Heero swallowed
it in one go. "Another," he said. He slowly turned on the stool
to find the room still watching him like a hawk. "Did I step in
something or am I that incredibly good-looking?" he asked the
barman.

A young man seated across from him smirked and shared a glance
with the bartender. "Should we tell him, Bob?" the man asked.

"We don't get many strangers around here," he answered.

'That's a cliché if ever I heard one,' Heero thought. "With all
the ships that come in?" he wondered.

"True, but they're mostly sailors and workers from the old
Peacecraft Fishing Fleet," the barman said, "but that was taken
over by a company in Bangor years ago."

"Is he giving you any trouble, Bob?" a gruff voice asked from
behind.

Heero glanced up to find one of the sailors standing over him.
He was almost seven feet tall, total muscle and full of ale.
'Just let him start something with me,' Heero thought darkly.

"No, Reuben," Bob said while cleaning a few glasses.

"What brings you here?" Reuben asked, getting close to Heero 's
face. Heero blinked several times. The smell of alcohol was
enough to knock out a horse. The sailor licked his dry lips and
stared down at him with a lecherous gleam in his eye.

"Just passing through," Heero answered through gritted teeth.

"Passing through, huh? Don't stand still too long or the
ghosts'll get 'ya!" he laughed.

Heero stood up in a flash and grabbed the drunken sailor roughly
by the collar. "Listen, you're beginning to aggravate me!"

Reuben's face turned bright red and he puffed up his chest. How
he loved a challenge! He could definitely teach this one a
lesson or two back on board ship. He hauled back his fist, but
it froze in mid-air from Bob's restraining look.

"Not in here!" the bartender ordered.

Heero released his grip and Reuben smoothed down his already
rumpled clothes. "Fine, fine," he smiled. Walking past him, he
whispered, "I'll deal with you later."

Rolling his eyes, Heero sat back down at the bar to finish his
second drink. The barman looked over his shoulder at the angry
crowd, then leaned in conspiratorially. "Once you finish that,
you may want to get out of here."

"I'm not scared of them," Heero said.

Bob nodded, "I believe you can take care of yourself, lad."

After a moment, Heero looked at the barman curiously. "What did
he mean about 'ghosts'?"

Sighing, Bob hissed, "Not so loud!" He darted his eyes back and
forth, afraid a fight might break out.

Gregory, the young man across from him continued, "Let's just
say that I could tell you stories about this town that would
rock you from here all the way back to where you came from."

Heero nearly laughed, but Bob broke in. "Do you have someplace
to stay the night?"

"No," Heero replied. "I was hoping to find a job on one of the
boats, but if our friend over there is any indication... Are
there any openings around here?"

Bob thought for a moment. "The market's not too big in
Collinsport... of course, there's always Collinwood."

Gregory nearly choked on his beer. "You can't be sending him up
there," he spluttered.

"Not at night, of course," Bob agreed.

"Am I missing something here?" Heero asked. "What the hell is a
Collinwood?" 'And why does that name seem so familiar?' he
wondered.

Bob leaned on the bar. "It's an old mansion up on Widows' Hill
that needs a caretaker," he explained.

"Yeah, and with enough ghosts to fill up thirteen Gothic
novels," Gregory chimed in.

Heero looked at them both, were they deliberately trying to
scare him away? "Yeah, well I don't think I want to know," he
said.

"Here son," Bob said, handing Heero a napkin with some hastily
drawn directions. "Virginia Blake and her nephew take care of
the grounds during the day, and the town council have been
needing someone to fix the old place up."

Heero took the napkin. "Why hasn't anyone from here taken up the
job?" he asked.

"Because most of us have more sense than to hang around that
house on the hill," Gregory told him. "If you spent even one
night there, that dark hair of yours will be one gorgeous shade
of white in the morning!"

"Now, that's not true," Bob said. "If you want the job, I can
contact Mrs. Blake and let her know. I promise it pays well."

Heero mulled this over for a while. A creepy mansion in a
nowhere town like this? "And no-one ever goes there?" he asked.

"There's one born every minute," Gregory said into his beer.

"I'll take my chances," Heero smiled.

Bob reached under the bar and handed Heero a key. "Good. You can
stay in the spare room above the bar tonight and go up to
Collinwood in the morning.

"Thanks," Heero said cautiously. Taking the key, he picked up
his duffel bag and found a stairway. Walking past the semi-
conscious Reuben, Heero rumbled a low "Grrrr!" and disappeared
up the stairs.

After he'd gone, Gregory motioned at Bob. "Are you crazy,
sending a stranger up to Spooksville?!"

"He'll be fine," Bob said, wiping the bar.

"You seem to forget what happened the last time someone tried to
live at that house," Gregory reminded him.

Bob shook his head. "Virginia and Cristoff are there all the
time..." he began.

"But never during the night. I was just a kid, but I remember my
mom telling us how that young girl's body was found floating in
the old pool," he said.

"That was an accident," Bob chided.

"And what about those two novelists who lived on the estate? How
their car mysteriously crashed?"

"You're letting your imagination run away with you," Bob said.
"That boy will be just fine."

"You better hope so," Gregory said. "There's a curse over that
house! Those stories about Collinwood still scare me to death."

Bob slapped his hand with a tea towel. "Boo!"

Gregory jumped off the bar stool and took a seat at a table,
nursing his beer. Bob went back to polishing the glasses. He
felt sure the stranger would be alright up at the estate. He was
strong and looked the type that needed a place to get away.
Besides, there was always that finder's fee from the Council...

Upstairs in the sparse bedroom, Heero opened a window and
allowed the sea air to wash over him. Down in the street, the
mist rolled along in waves. He sighed heavily. Who would have
thought he'd end up in a ghost town? Well, at least he'd have a
place to hide out. If Collinwood was as infamous as the locals
made it sound, he was sure to be safe there...

~ * * * * * ~

"Duo, you can't be serious?" Quatre Winner cried. He had heard
some wild ideas from his partner over the years, but this one he
just couldn't believe.

Shrugging into his jacket, Duo Maxwell looked at him over his
desk. He'd just hung up the 'phone with his friend Tony, a
source that had been keeping tabs on Heero Yuy from time to
time.

"Yes, I'm serious!" he said. "Quatre, this is my chance to
finally track him down."

Quatre folded his arms. "And do what?"

"What I've always wanted to do," he said, hastily. "It's as
simple as that."

"But a fishing village in Maine?" Quatre asked, holding up Duo's
notes. "Not a good idea. I didn't have a very good time when I
breezed through one."

Duo gave him a crooked half-smile, remembering Quatre's
"vacation" some time ago. Well, now it was his turn for a little
time off. He took the information from him. "Quatre, just trust
me. I need to find him before he hops a boat to who-knows-
where," he said.

Quatre cocked his head to the side. "Why do I get the feeling
there's something you're not telling me?"

"There's not!" he exclaimed, a little too defensively. "There's
not, I promise."

Quatre's eyes scanned down to a thick folder Duo carried under
his arm. "What's this?" He asked, slyly taking it from him.

"Just a little reading material for the trip," Duo explained
innocently.

"'The Unexplained Deaths of Collinsport, Maine'," Quatre read
the heading of the X-file. Duo snatched it back. "Gotcha!"
Quatre smiled.

"I'll see you in a few days!" Duo called, waving the folder.

Quatre sat down behind his desk and watched him go. He hoped
that if Duo did find Heero, that he wouldn't do anything too
rash. He wished he could've gone with him. Tapping a pencil on
the desk, he snapped his fingers. Turning on the computer, he
quickly called up information on Collinsport, Maine. "Now, let's
see what this fishing village has to offer," he said as the
screen lit up...

~ * * * * * ~

Twisting beneath the covers fitfully, Heero breathed hard as a
dream invaded his mind...

"Jamison, how handsome you look tonight," he said, full of love
for the person walking beside him.

"I love being with you," Jamison replied shyly.

They strolled together through the rose garden. The spring
evening's scent heavy in the air.

"Just look up at the stars," he indicated the bright points
reflected against the clouds. "I see them all within your eyes."

He felt Jamison's warm arms around him. The soft velvet of his
coat rubbing lightly against his skin. At once their lips
touched, matching the embrace. He felt Jamison's full lips
caressing his own. When he opened his eyes, he found Duo Maxwell
staring straight into his soul...

"Duo!" Heero shouted, sitting up in bed with shock. His heart
raced and his skin glistened with sweat. Throwing off the
covers, he stood at the window to let the chill air in. Taking
in deep lungfuls of salty, sea air Heero tried to clear his
senses but it was no good. The moonlight cast shadows over his
naked body, which remained on fire. The dream had been so vivid,
so real... What had it meant? "Get a hold of yourself!" he said
aloud.

After a moment, he laid back down on top of the bed. He could
still feel those lips against his. Closing his eyes, he traced a
finger along his mouth... The work waiting for him at that
mansion had better be big to distract him, otherwise his
thoughts for Duo was going to drive him completely crazy.

~ * * * * * ~

The next morning, Heero had dressed hurriedly and met Bob
downstairs. Thanking the barman for the room, he found a cab
waiting for him to take him up to Collinwood. Apparently, there
was only one taxi in the entire town and the council had
insisted he use it. Strange folks indeed, Heero mused.

The trip to the estate took them further along the coast. With
the ever-present ocean, Heero also spotted a dense forest and an
old cemetery which the driver -Jack - pointed out was Eagle
Hill, where most of the illustrious Peacecraft family were
buried.

The mention of their names gave Heero the opportunity to find
out more. "What is with that house?" he wondered. "Why won't
anyone stay there at night?"

The gruff old driver huffed uncomfortably. "Well, after Mrs.
Stoddard passed away," he began but Heero cut in.

"Who?"

"Elizabeth Peacecraft Stoddard, she was the mistress of the
house," Jack explained. "The rest of the family moved away and
there hasn't been a soul living there since."

"Wait a minute," Heero said. "I've heard about a woman who
drowned..."

"Yes, that was tragic, just tragic. A Miss Tracy Peacecraft. She
had married Quentin, Mrs. Stoddard's cousin, but he disappeared
shortly afterwards."

Heero sat back and thought this over, staring out at the cliffs.
The waves crashed violently against the rocks below. It sounded
like the wailing of a woman.

"There goes the Widows," Jack said.

"The what?" Heero asked.

"Many a wife who had lost her husband at sea has joined him,"
Jack replied cryptically.

"You mean they jumped?"

Jack nodded. "Ever hear the story of Jamison duPrés?"

Heero froze. 'Jamison? Hadn't that been the name in his dream?'
"No," he finally answered.

"He came over from the island of Martinique with his father, who
owned a sugar plantation," Jack explained, telling a story he'd
heard since childhood. "They were hoping to forge an alliance
with the Peacecraft family business. He fell in love with
someone in the great house, but the family were against the
relationship. In his grief, he threw himself off Widows' Hill."

Heero sat in stunned silence. "That's horrible!" he whispered.

"On some nights, you can hear a lonely crying coming down from
the hill," Jack said. "Many of us believe it's Jamison calling
out for his lost lover."

Heero felt a terrible chill past down his spine. Before he could
question Jack further, the cab abruptly stopped. "Here we are,"
Jack announced.

Looking out of the window, Jack's story had completely made
Heero miss the rusted, ornate gates, which ran for miles above
the cliffs. "I don't see the house," Heero said, craning his
neck.

"This is as far as I'm going," Jack told him. "Just take the
path straight on and you can't miss it."

Heero smirked. Boy, the legends about Collinwood really had
these people freaked. Hopping out of the cab, he took his duffel
bag from Jack and set off through the open gates.

"Good luck!" Jack called after him. "You're going to need it,"
he whispered.

Heero found the road well worn and a little muddy. On both sides
stretched the forest he'd spotted earlier. It seemed to go on
forever. At one point, he thought he'd spotted stables through
the trees. Maybe the groundskeeper kept horses?

Rounding several corners, Heero stopped and caught his breath at
the sight before him. A few miles ahead was the largest house
he'd ever seen. It was simply beautiful, and looked as if it had
been built to stand the test of time. There were stained glass
windows wherever he looked, turrets and ivy covered walls. No
wonder the town wanted it fixed. The place was like a monument.
His heart beat a little faster. If this was where he'd be
staying, it would be the nicest setup he'd ever had!

He found himself running toward the house. The closer he came,
the more details he could see; including signs of disrepair. He
would definitely have his work cut out for him. Finally, he
reached the front door, set under a pillared overhang.

The mahogany doors were huge, complete with brass knockers.
Lifting one of the heavy ornaments, he banged several times. The
echo resounded from within. It didn't take long for someone to
answer.

"Hello?" a woman with a raucous voice answered. Heero observed
the rather small woman. She had shoulder-length auburn hair and
wore a flowing silk dress. She looked to be in her mid-forties.
"You must be the new handyman?"

It took Heero a moment to register her question. "Y-yes," he
said.

"Come in," she offered. "I'm Mrs. Virginia Blake and you are?"

Heero stepped inside the grand foyer and gaped at the beautiful
floor, paintings and crystal chandelier. "Just call me Heero,"
he said.

"Welcome to Collinwood, Heero," she smiled. Leading him into the
drawing room, Virginia watched as he took in the ancient home.
"It is beautiful, isn't it?"

"What? Oh yes, it is," he said, marveling at the antique
furnishings and the enormous fireplace.

"We're hoping that you can make it grand again," she purred.

"I'll do my best."

At that moment, a dark figure descended the spiral staircase.
Heero was familiar with his sort - surly to the extreme. The man
was about his age, with dark hair and wearing a black turtleneck
and jeans.

" Heero, this is my nephew Cristoff," Virginia told him. She
turned to the new arrival. "This is the man that will make
Collinwood great once more."

Cristoff mumbled a few indistinct words, and Virginia's tone
suddenly changed. "Cristoff, don't you have work to do outside?"

He nodded, staring daggers at Heero as he left. Virginia noticed
this and tried to change the subject. "Now, why don't you get
settled in? We have a room ready for you upstairs..." She
trailed off, seeing Heero 's far away expression. "Are you
alright?"

"Yes, it's just that I have the strangest sense of déja vu," he
said distantly. He shook his head, feeling very silly. Virginia
was looking at him as if she expected him to say that. "Um...
how long have you been working here?" Heero asked, changing the
subject.

She walked around the sofa, feeling the soft fabric lovingly.
"Oh, my mother used to work for the Peacecraft family. I still
feel at home here, and you should too."

Heero moved through the drawing room, taking in the faces of
each portrait along the wall. He assumed they were all
Peacecraft ancestors. He stopped by one sitting beside the
window. Beneath it was a little table with a bouquet of lilacs.
"Who is this?" he asked Virginia.

"That is Relena Peacecraft," she explained with reverence,
moving up behind him. "A great lady who lived here in the
seventeenth-century."

"Relena," Heero whispered. She was beautiful... almost
hauntingly so. Dirty blonde hair hung in rivulets around the
delicate face, a white dress clung to her like a cloud, the
glacial blue eyes stared out of the painting as if... as if they
were alive...