Malcolm paused when he felt the buzz as he headed for his meager apartment. For the first time for awhile he was actually afraid, he was caught off of holy. His imagination ran a little wild as he considered the possibility that Dijkhuizen was in there waiting for him. He pushed those fears aside, there was no way Michel could have followed him, he hadn't seen him in days. Still he reached for the handle of his claymore as he cautiously opened the door. That fear quickly turned to annoyance as he discovered who the intruder was. Sitting upside down on the couch with his head hanging off the seat was Harris, watching some sort of garbage on the television. "How did you find out where I lived Harris?"

"Did a little checking and found out which apartment complexes where by holy ground," he said. "And there's a nice little Mosque right down the street."

"You actually thought it out?", Malcolm asked in mild amazement. "You didn't listen to the wind or what ever it is you do."

"Just an idea I got from a little bird at a hospital. What's that in your hand?", he asked changing the subject.

Malcolm glanced at the CD case in his hand. It couldn't hurt to tell the twit. "I blackmailed that stalker of mine to get me a copy of the file on that half Irish bastard they call my nephew."

"You that curious about what he had for breakfast this morning?", Harris asked as he flipped the channels.

"Rader claims he could only go up to week or so back." Malcolm snorted, "He said people would get suspicious if he copied anything more recent." Harris nodded. Malcolm paused for a moment. He could have sworn that English twit just smirked for a brief second. That was always a sign that he might know something he didn't. Then again there were a couple of times Malcolm did some checking based on that expression and ended up on a wild goose chase just because he wanted to be entertained. He'll ignore it for now, Harris was probably setting him up for something. Popping the disc into his he typed in the password Rader said was mandatory for this, in case it fell into the wrong hands.

Harris popped up behind him and leaned on his shoulder, "I know, you want to know when his birthday is and trying to figure out something appropriate to get him at the same time. That's very big of you." Malcolm held his tongue. Owen's Watcher file popped up and both of then scanned the first few pages. "Click on his first teacher. You can tell a lot about an immortal based on who taught him."

"I wish you wouldn't say things like that," Malcolm sighed. Much to his surprise a file on this Finlay character did pop up. It wasn't much, just his name, age some basic info and a picture. He just happened to look up at Harris and was caught by surprise again. Harris was gripping the back of his chair and just stared at the photo. For the first time ever he saw something that resembled hatred in the younger Immortal's eyes. Without a word or warning Harris stormed out the door. "Now what could that be about?", Malcolm scratched his chin as he looked back at Finlay's picture.

"The wheelchair isn't necessary," Owen complained again. Natalya pushed him toward the door while a blond nurse with short bobbed hair walked beside them. She was a newer immortal under Susan's care. Outside of that, whatever it was, with Harris she was friendly enough to be around. She and Natalya talked while ignoring Owen's complaints. Finally he hit the wheel brakes and the chair came to a quick stop and he quickly freed himself. Natalya had a few choice words for him for the unexpected stop. "I can walk on my own two feet. I've been doing it for as long as I can remember."

"And how many times are you going to get released from a hospital," Natalya shot back. "I say enjoy the perks while you can. Besides you're going to need your strength later when I properly welcome you home."

"Susan did warn me about you two," the nurse said.

"Don't mind her Serenity," Owen told her taking the chair from Natalya and parking it next to a wall, "she's got a one track mind half the time."

"And I have never once heard you complain." To Serenity she added, "Actually I never hear him complain at all so I must be doing something right."

"I think Susan left some things out," she commented to herself. "And please call me Ser. All my friends do."

"Sure thing," Natalya said. "Now help me get this big lug back in the chair."

She pointed toward the exit, "He's already at the door."

"Hey wait up," Natalya called out and went after him. "Owen, say a few words in your old brogue for me."

"Why?", he asked as she got in his way.

"I want to make sure you can still do it. I hate to think that almost losing your head cause you to lose it permanently. Come on please, please, please."

Owen walked past her, but his old accent slipped out anyway, "You're crazy woman."

"I always loved that accent of his," she said to Ser as they followed him out. "It broke my heart when he finally got rid of it."

"Susan said that happens to a lot of immortals," Ser said. "Like they slowly lose who they are or something."

"Only if you let it," Owen said as he held the door open for them.

"Why thank you," Natalya said with a little curtsy. "And Owen's right. You only forget who you are if you let it happen. I'm proud to say I'm still the same person I was, just a little more worldly then what I was. We should hang out Ser, I could tell you a lot of things about being an Immoral."

"Then I'd go to Susan for the truth," Owen said. Natalya slapped his arm. All three of them froze as they felt the buzz. Both Owen and Natalya's first instinct was to move Ser between them until they located who it was. Natalya spotted him first and got Owen's attention to see if he knew who it was. Owen turned and felt his jaw tighten up. An older man with weathered skin walked toward them. Owen immediately got the girls behind him despite Natalya's protest.

"Good thing I got here in time boyo," Finlay said with a wave that Owen didn't return. "Susan said you were injured when I called her. I just had to see it for myself. Did you forget everything I taught you?"

"I told you not to call me boyo," Owen spat at him. Natalya looked at him in surprise. She has never seen him act like this before.

"You're still not upset about what happened are you boyo?", he dismissed his anger. "That happened years ago."

~1943~

Owen quickly got rid of his parachute as he looked around him. He and the special force unit he was in dropped into France with only the upcoming dawn as light. It was a tricky mission but it was their only chance to get in without being seen. They were lucky none of the German heard the plane on the way here. It seemed so noisy he was positive it was waking the dead along the way there. The first order of business was to find the rest of his squad and determine if they were close to the target area. He went a few yards before he felt the buzz and went into a protective stance immediately. There were a few rumors floating around of some of the shadier Immortals shooting another one first before taking their heads. A rustling in the trees made him look up, "Jackson?"

"It's about time you looked up," he said. His chute was caught in the tree. So far he didn't get the idea to cut himself down yet. "How did I let you talk me into doing this mission?"

"We were ordered boyo," Owen reminded him trying not to laugh but failing.

"That beside the point," he said. "God I am never doing this parachuting shit again." Gunshots rang out silencing them both. Owen ducked while Jackson struggled harder to get out of his predicament.

"Stay where you are," Owen told him. Jackson cursed his choice or words as he hung there. Owen stayed low as he made his way toward the direction the gunshots came in. Then he heard them again. Years of battlefield experience told him those shots weren't coming his way. He heard a woman cry out right before another shot fired. Owen started running. He found a small farm and a couple of dead bodies, a man and a small boy, and felt sick. Quickly he located the body of a woman, also shot. He heard somebody else cry out and turned to see a girl no more than fifteen back away from a man in a German uniform. Before he could react she was shot by the soldier as well. "No," Owen said as he made his way toward him, raising his rifle to shot the bastard in the back.

He only got a few feet before the buzz stopped him. For the first time ever he was actually glad one of these bastards was an Immortal. The he turned around and Owen stopped immediately. An all too familiar weather beaten face looked at him. "Owen?", Finlay said. "What are you doing here boyo?" Looking Owen over a bit while he was still stunned he grimaced a bit, "I was afraid you go and join the wrong side of this war."

Finding his voice Owen demanded, "What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

"My job," his mentor sounded like he was amazed he would ask that, "what else would I be doing? My superior heard rumors that these humans were helping the resistance and I was sent to check it out."

"You're with the Germans?", Owen couldn't wrap his mind over what he was seeing. He and Finlay might have saw thing differently at times but this was beyond anything he could imagine. "You're with people who goal is to take over everything? You, the man who told me the best way to grow as a person is to be as well rounded as possible. That meant studying other cultures and how they do thing according to you. How does this help anybody grow?"

"And things were growing a little too wild boyo," Finlay said. "Sometimes you have to weed things out before the rest start growing properly. I heard the message and I found myself agreeing with them. This world might be a little better off if one power was ruling it. It's not like things were running all that well before all of this." Looking at the corpses around the farm he added, "Of course things would go easier if the troublemakers would just stop what they're doing and see we're doing the right thing."

Remember what drew him here and what he saw Owen felt his anger raising again. "And where in all the garbage they've been spewing does it saw you have to kill the entire family."

"The man was a suspected rebel sympathizer," he said waving Owen off. "There was enough evidence that I saw that supported that claim. He denied it of course, when do they ever confess? So I took matter into my own hand. Of course any survivors would tell what happened and possibly turn the man into a martyr. I've seen it before."

"The kids…", Owen started to say.

"Would have just picked up where their father left off," Finlay told him. "You have to think about the future. Haven't I always told you that?" He studied Owen for a few silent moments. "Are you going to cry up like a newborn babe again? Like you did after I found you." Walking up to his former student he put a hand on his shoulder, "They're just mortals Owen. They are beneath us. The only reason why any of us are in this war is because, well let's face it, we don't have much of a choice."

Owen slapped his hand away. "You murdered an entire family."

"Get your head out of the clouds boyo," Finlay told him. "They are the enemy. The enemy dies, that's how war works." Turning his back on his former student Finlay walked away. "I'll let you go this time Owen, for old time's sake. But next time you might not be so lucky."

"You're not walking away from this Finlay." He turned around as Owen removed his backpack and retrieved his long sword from inside.

"Are you challenging me boyo?", he said totally amused. Reaching for his broadsword he added, "You think you can take the man who taught you?"

"Don't call me boyo," Owen told him plainly. Before either of them could move artillery fire came out of the woods. Owen ducked out of instinct while Finlay was riddled with bullets. Hiding his sword Jackson and the rest of the unit ran out of the forest.

"What in the hell did you think you were doing running off like that Peterson?", his commander demanded. Giving him the abridge version of event, the commander understood as he looked around. "Damn Krauts," he said, "I don't think they're human at times. At least this is one less we'll have to worry about. Get you gear back on soldier, we got to move before any of his friends show up."

"Yes sir," Owen said absentmindedly. Staring at Finlay body, he entertained the notion of just taking his head right then and there. But he would be hard pressed to talk his way out of them seeing the Quickening, much less why he was chopping up a dead body. Even if he was the enemy. Grabbing his pack he quickly got back in the group and they headed off.

Walking next to him Jackson leaned in a bit and asked, "Are you ok Owen?"

"I'm fine bo…", he started to say out of habit. Boyo, he never said the word before he met Finlay. Even he wasn't even sure where he picked it up he said he just started saying it. Out of respect for his mentor Owen used it for a term of endearment for those he trained in the ways of the Game, or for very close friends. Now he wasn't sure what to think. Instead he said, "I'm fine Jackson."

~now~

"They were an innocent family," Owen said.

"It was war," Finlay snapped. "How many times do I have to tell you that?" Natalya and Ser looked at the door as Susan came rushing out. "Two of my favorite students in one place, who would have thought." When she didn't say anything he said, "Susan we lived through the same time, more or less. Tell Owen he's making a mistake at not letting this go."

"The only mistake," She said slowly, "was when I let it slip that Owen was here. Owen told me all about it Finlay, there as no need to kill the entire family like that. What happened to you Finlay?"

"I think that cross went to your head." Finlay turned in disgust, "all of you are crazy. It was just a bunch of mortals."

"I let you get away once Finlay," Owen said. "I'm not doing that again."

Slowly Finlay turned back around, "So you do think you can take me. Finally found your spine after all these years. Fine over there then," he pointed to an empty lot. Owen nodded and both of them walked over. Natalya went to stop him but Susan got in her way.

"Get Serenity into the hospital," she told her. When Natalya didn't immediately comply she said, "Do what I say for a change Natalya." Without another word she followed them over. Entering the lot she was confused when she found them just standing there, then she noticed the third man walking toward them. With a jewel covered cutlass resting on his shoulder he stared a hole into Finlay. "Scott?"

"Never thought you see me again did you?", he said to the older immortal. "In case you don't remember me let me give you a hint. Mid fifties back in Paris. There was a little bird I may or may not have had feelings for at the time. I stayed there for a month so I think I did, I never stay anywhere that long unless I got something going. And you killed her, in a church of all places. No Immortal is supposed to kill on holy ground."

"That only applies to other Immortals," Finlay told him. "And she was a thief who took something important from my employer. He wanted to keep things quiet and gave me carte blanche. It was only business." When Harris didn't look convinced Finlay looked at him and Owen. "What is it with you crybabies and these pitiful humans? You breathe on them hard and they die."

Harris glanced at Owen, "He may be your teacher and all but as far as I'm concerned he's all mine. Unless you have a problem with that?" Owen fingers found the scar on his neck. Eyeing Harris he wanted nothing more than to get a little payback. Instead he walked away and leaned on the wall next to Susan. Satisfied Harris brought his cutlass into position, "En guard."

"I'm going to enjoy this boy," he said as he brandished his broadsword. Harris came in fast coming at Finlay in that pirate style of his. Finlay held his ground refusing to back up for this whelp of an Immortal. Suddenly Harris jumped back a bit causing Finlay to fall foreword a bit. He corrected his balance in time to block the cutlass. "Did you think you had me boy?

"I'm just getting started." Harris pushed him back and came at. Watching from the sidelines Owen was still having a hard time keeping up with Harris's blade. But from he was right about something he saw from before, the kid spent some time with Naoto. Although he did take some pleasure in the fact Finlay was looking frustrated with him as well. So much so he actually punched Harris in the gut. "Bad form," he grunted as he fell to his knees.

"Too bad whelp," Finlay sneered. He went for his head. Harris rolled foreword to avoid the slash at his neck. Finlay tried to pound the cutlass out of his hand with the broadsword but Harris was holding on to the hilt for dear for dear life. "Do you really think somebody as young as you can beat somebody as old as I am?", he demanded and brought the sword down one more time.

Again Harris blocked it. His face wasn't showing any kind of struggle though. In fact he looked like he was enjoying this. "It's happened before," was all he said. He pushed him away then started slicing away at Finlay in the next second. Unable to get his sword up in time several long cuts decorated his upper body. As he fell to his knees Harris spun around and in one motion took his head clean off. Resting his cutlass on his shoulder again he waited until the Quickening came to him. "Rrrraaaaaaaaagggh!" arms out wide every inch of him felt like it was on fire as he absorbed the power from within Finlay. When it was over he dropped to his knees then popped back up to his feet and tried not to act a little woozy. "That's always a rush."

"Why am I not surprised," Owen said dryly.

"Are you going to have a problem with me now?", Harris said. "Fallen teacher, revenge and all that good stuff."

"We already have problems," Owen told him, again fingering the scar on his neck. "But the only problem I have today is I didn't do that years ago. We'll finish this some other time."

"If you say so." Harris returned the cutlass to it's hiding place, "He felt old."

"He was fifteen hundred years old," Susan informed him.

Harris whistled," Too bad, that could have helped you against Big Evil." Walking away with his hands behind his head he said, "Or maybe it wouldn't. Who can say but fate really?"

"Again with this Big Evil," Owen said starting to follow him. "Who in the hell is Big Evil?"

His answer was, "Ask the Sister, she was the one who told me. Oh and say hello to that little blue eyed bird for me. I might be seeing her again if the mood strikes me. She was fun the first time around."Owen turned to Susan but she was already gone.