"What are you going to do now?" Machiavelli asked, following him back into the cabin.

"I don't know," Billy said thoughtfully. "Maybe I'll go back to bed for a couple of hours. I was having some trouble sleeping before for some reason. But I think I'm ready to sleep now." He looked back at the teenager. "What about you?"

Machiavelli shrugged. He kind of wanted to climb in with Billy like he might have a month ago, but realized that he couldn't do the same things as he had before. "Maybe I'll see if Nicholas wants to take a walk. It's his day off today."

"You might want to wait an hour or so," Billy said, glancing at his watch. "It's only 8:20."

"Is it?" They must have gotten up earlier than he had thought. Machiavelli glanced at the clock on the wall to be sure; Billy was right, it was only a little past 8 o'clock. "Oh. Well, then I don't know what I'm going to do."

Billy nodded. He rubbed at his face tiredly. "Here, let's eat breakfast. That'll take up some time. And then maybe you should go back to bed too." He came back down the stairs the rest of the way. He pushed him along to the back of the cabin where the kitchen was.

"Okay," Machiavelli agreed reluctantly. He felt jittery, knowing that he was moving into the last days of living in the cabin. He sat at the kitchen table, but on the very edge of the chair. He tapped out a rhythm on the oak table.

"So what do you want for breakfast?" Billy said, putting his hands on the Italian's shoulders. He rubbed the teenager's shoulders roughly. "I'm just going to have toast."

"Do we have any fruit? And yogurt?" Machiavelli got up and dug through the fridge. He pulled out the carton of Greek yogurt and a package of strawberries. "Want a strawberry?"

Billy accepted the red fruit. He pulled off the greens and stuffed the rest of it in his mouth. "Aren't you tired? You didn't sleep much."

"I'm a little bit tired," Machiavelli admitted. He thought for a minute. "Is your bed longer than mine?" he asked suddenly.

"Yeah, yours is a child size bed." Billy nodded. "Why, is it uncomfortable?"

"No, it's fine," Machiavelli assured her. "I was just wondering because I saw you don't need the ottoman to have enough space." But Billy's comment got him thinking. "Why do you have a kid's size bed in here? It was here when we got here."

Billy swirled the cereal in his bowl. He shrugged, but he was curiously quiet. Curious because the American immortal was normally so talkative.

"Did you ever have a kid here?" Machiavelli asked curiously.

"No. But there was a couple of times when I thought of adopting a child," Billy said very quietly, very reluctantly. "Being with you has only confirmed what I suspected for a long time. I like being a father. I want to have someone to come home to at the end of the day."

Machiavelli couldn't help himself from asking more questions. "What stopped you?"

Billy shrugged. "It wasn't a good idea. How do you explain to someone that you never get any older?"

"True," the Italian said, lowering his eyes. He wished in that moment that he could do something to make things better, but he knew that time was going to continue on as it did. They continued their breakfast, two people intimately acquainted and yet still strangers. "Nicholas is awake now," Machiavelli commented, breaking the silence.

"You going to take your walk now?"

"Sure."

"Okay, bring the dog. I'll be in bed for a couple of hours." Billy smiled up at him. "Have fun." Machiavelli got up to go outside. As he was edging around the table, Billy caught his wrist. Gazing up at the Italian immortal, he held out an arm. Machiavelli leaned over to enclose him in a brief hug.

~MB~

"Hey, you're awake," Machiavelli said coming through the door.

Billy glanced up from where he was lounging on the couch. "Yeah, you two must have had some walk." He was now clad in flannel pants and a wrinkled t-shirt. His hair was sticking up at odd angles and the Italian longed to reach out and fix it, but controlled himself. Unconsciously, he ran his hand through his hair which was getting quite long again.

"We walked around the entire pond."

"He kept a pretty good pace," Nicholas commented, sitting down. The Frenchman looked a little winded. "Especially since the path goes up and down some hills and there's roots… Scatty ended up coming with us."

"Where is our favorite vampire?" Billy drawled, leaning back down again. He hit the space bar on the laptop in front of him in order to stop the music that was currently playing. Nicholas made a vague motion. "You don't have a clue, do you?" Billy laughed. Nicholas shook his head. Billy turned his music back on.

"You must have a lot of music," Machiavelli told Billy, leaning over the back of the couch.

"I do," Billy acknowledged distractedly. He shook his head slightly and flipped over so that he was staring up at the teenager. He smiled wide, his two buck teeth prominent and flashing. "I love music."

"I like music, too," Machiavelli admitted rather shyly. "Could we go to the record store downtown sometime? And get some CDs?"

Billy reached up to touch the Italian's cheek for a brief moment. Machiavelli felt his throat catch slightly. "We can do that," Billy agreed sleepily, "but for now, you know, we could just find your music on YouTube."

"What's YouTube?"

Billy's hand dropped. He looked at the Italian with a horrified expression on his face and quickly sat up, so that the two immortals were very suddenly face to face. "You don't know YouTube? But Mac, you've lived in the 21st century…"

Machiavelli flushed. "Yes, but I was only really concerned with technology that helped me accomplish what I wanted to and I'm guessing this site is not…"

"…anything that will help you rise to power," Billy finished for him. "Still, though," the American trailed off. The idea that Machiavelli didn't know this basic form of technology seemed to be almost a personal insult to the immortal. He looked over at the French immortal. "Do you know Youtube?"

"Sure," Nicholas said, barely looking up from his newspaper.

This seemed to be enough for Billy. Abruptly, he grabbed Machiavelli around the shoulders and brought him tumbling over the back of the couch. The Italian immortal tried to prevent himself from falling and only succeeded in landing further down on the American's torso than he had intended or wanted. Being very careful about where he put his hands, Machiavelli managed to extract himself from the brouhaha and looked over to Billy who was grinning at him.

"Still," Billy continued his thought from before, "you should know what YouTube is. Come over here." He swung his long legs off of the couch and patted the seat by his side. Machiavelli hesitantly shifted over next to him. "What do you want to listen to?"

The Italian paused. He could smell Billy's aftershave and for whatever reason, the smell of it was distracting him terribly. He struggled to regain control of his mind. "Hmm… in 1821, I heard Schubert's fourth version of Erlkönig. Could you find that?"

"Easily," Billy drawled. "It's in my favorites already, actually…" He clicked on a couple of links and suddenly the sounds of the piano piece beginning filled the room. Machiavelli was captivated. He unconsciously grabbed for Billy's hand at his favorite line when the Erlkönig sang 'Ich liebe dich, mich reizt deine schöne Gestalt/ Und bist du nicht willig, so brauch ich Gewalt.' Goosebumps formed on his arms.

Machiavelli looked up at Billy, his eyes sparkling. As soon as the song ended, he clamored closer to the American immortal. "Why didn't you show me this sooner?" he demanded.

"I just assumed that you already knew about it. I've been listening to music ever since we met, how have you not noticed?" Billy laughed. Machiavelli was going to answer but the outlaw cut him off with a kiss to the temple and suddenly he felt very wrongfooted. "Oh, Mac, I've got to show you this," Billy said, leaning forward and typing furiously. "It's the song I most associate with you. Makes me laugh…."

Machiavelli leaned forward and mouthed the words 'Nothing Suits me like a Suit' to himself as the video began to play. About thirty seconds into the song, he began to laugh, especially when he looked over and say Billy acting out the song along with Neil Patrick Harris. "He's really handsome," the Italian acknowledged as the song ended.

"Yeah," Billy agreed offhandedly. "But did you like the song?"

"Oh, I loved the song. I like it just as much as Erlkönig now. For two very different reasons, you understand, but…" He took the laptop from Billy. "Can I borrow this for a little while? Just until our dinner?"

Billy nodded. He stretched out again, absentmindedly rubbing Georgette behind her ears. He seemed quite content to lounge around, talking to Nicholas and Machiavelli.