1 October 2010

Maggie and Rhiannon were off on their happy adventure. Colleen had been swept up in their excitement, but her mind was now on one of the other reasons she'd come to Riverview, a dozen red roses and card with a single line of poetry. Early Thursday morning, Aja had passed along a bouquet of roses. Collie's first thought was that Darien had them sent while he was away. Upon reading verse on the card, "There is no disguise which can hide love for long where it exists, or simulate it where it does not," she knew the lovely blossoms weren't from Fenner. It wasn't the sentiment expressed that caused her to think that way. The lack of a signature of some kind was the red flag.

The whole thing spooked the redhead. So much so, that she called Darien while he was on assignment. Later that evening, the phone calls started. Music, nothing but music. Each time the songs had a common theme, angels. Collie was beginning to wonder if the caller had some sort of celestial beings fetish.

The Forensics Labs wasn't hard to find nor was the department head. Bridget Dillon, a green eyed redhead with features reminiscent of a young Lauren Bacall, was giving instructions to one of the new lab techs.

"What case is this for, Doc?" Debbie Burroughs looked at Bridget with that fresh faced eagerness often seen on new interns.

"Custody case. We have six people claiming to be relatives of two children. The girls are half-sisters; same mother. The only agreement the people battling over them and their mother's estate is that they don't want to split the girls from each other."

Debbie's blonde brows twisted into a question mark. "So, big money involved and whoever gets the kids, gets control of it until they're old enough?"

"Probably," Bridget answered as she looked up at the screen displaying the comparison of six DNA footprints to the Taylor sisters. "Tell me what you see, Ms. Burroughs."

Debbie tilted her head and studied the comparison markers. "Do we still have the mother's DNA samples on record?"

"Yes, you can call it up. Marcia Taylor, half elven female, age thirty." Bridget saw the answers already laid out, but allowed her potential assistant to follow through without prompting.

She jotted a few notes on the tablet near her right hand before discussing her conclusions. "Samples two and six, don't match the girls at all. One and four are each related to one sister, but not the other. Samples three and five are connected to both sisters," she paused, "mitochondrial links."

"The recommendation you would give the attorney?"

"If blood relationships are the top priority, then the providers of samples three and five should be given first consideration."

"What conclusion did you draw on the familial lines?" Bridie held up a finger. "And why did you need to reference the mother's DNA record?"

"Three and five are maternal grandmother and male maternal sibling, respectively. I wanted to compare the mother to each of them as well as samples one and four." Debbie pointed out each sequence with a fingertip as she referenced them. "Sample four is apparently a paternal sibling to the twin matching sample A, but we presently have no records on the girls' fathers to bring up for comparison. Similar case in sample one but related to twin sample B."

A ghost of a smile flickered on Bridget's lip. "Good work, Ms. Burroughs." She glanced over at the door to see a visitor waiting. "How about you take that break, now?"

Having noted the unfamiliar person in the room, the blonde nodded, gathered some of her possessions and took off. The two Irish women stood in uncomfortable silence until Debbie closed the door behind her.

((Author's note: "There is no disguise which can hide love for long where it exists, or simulate it where it does not." - Francois de La Rochefoucauld))

2 October 2010

In the wee hours, it is often hard for a restless spirit to find solace. Colleen often found hers in a night ride, a walk, or cooking. Cooking was a joy to her and cooking for a lot of people, was, well, cathartic. She took a walk through the city and ended up at the inn; it was far from an uncommon destination. Collie slipped in through the kitchen entrance and started working on dessert first. Cheesecake took time to cool. It wasn't long before the smell of simmering marinara sauce drifted into the common room.

It was Tara's voice fussing over baby Raza that caught the Irish woman's attention. Collie poked her head out the door. The words being bandied about had caused it to become quite clear why few if any of Tara's children had survived their infancy. Branding infants, that was an eye opener to Collie! She couldn't help but chuckle when the wee one got a case of the hiccoughs and Tara couldn't hand the boy over fast enough!

Anya was hungry, that was a given. What mother in waiting isn't hungry' The stuffed shells and garlic bread were delivered along with the promise of a decadent dessert!

"Are my husbands and your Aussie here?" Anya asked with a wink.

"No." Collie shook her head. She hid her disappointment rather well.

"Mm. Well, what did you make for dessert then?"

"Cheesecake, marble cheesecake." Collie looked between Petyr and Sivanna then looked to Anya. "Think I ought ta get them some, too?"

"You'd better, or else mine will be poached."

Little did either of the women know, but the marble cheesecake in the kitchen was being poached already! By an Aussie and a chocoholic named Fenner at that! When Collie returned to the kitchen, she found him hovering over the cheesecake, spoon poised to drive right into its creamy middle. He looked up and froze before speaking, "I uh....just....Ya know. Measurin' it."

She was muttering under her breath as she set her dinner plate down. She just about spun when she heard Darien's voice. Her eyes popped open and she grinned. "Anya," she hollered from the kitchen, "that cheesecake ....might have ta make another one fer ya! It's been stolen!" She was laughing as she said it. How could she not with Darien right there and looking at her lecherously"

"What, by Dennis?" Anya called back.

"No, by a koala!" The long and short of is was nobody else was getting cheesecake that night.

"Bad Roo!" Anya's laughter filled the air.

And what else could Colleen do' She sidled up to Darien to steal cheesecake flavored kisses. Somewhere in the middle of those scandalous kisses, Tara had wandered into the kitchen and was staring at them. Her astounded expression was picture worthy. Somehow, the redhead in perpetual pigtails had managed to miss them pawing at each other for nearly a year! When Tara and her companion left the kitchen with the pie they'd come for, it was time to get down to more serious business.

"So tell me about this feelin' you've been 'avin," Darien said as he leaned on the counter. The cheesecake had become a mushed-up mass of cream cheese and crumbs with zero shape whatsoever.

Colleen looked at Darien and caught her lower lip between her teeth as she thought a moment or two about how to answer that. "It's more 'an feelin' at this point. Someone set me roses wit' a couple lines o' romantic poetry. 'n' I know it wasn't you what sent 'em."

He frowned and was picking at the cheesecake instead of eating it. "Who delivered 'em?"

"Aja said the delivery boy 'anded 'im ta 'er out front." She shook her head and frowned. "Ne'er thought ta ask what the man looked like." She was still poking at the remains of the cheesecake as they talked.

"D'ya 'ave the card still?" Mechanically, Darien shoved another bite of cheesecake into his mouth, if only for the sake of having something to chew on that wasn't a bit.

"Yes, I 'ave it. Just not on me," Colleen answered.

Darien gave her a presumptuous look. "Mind if I see it soon?"

"Tomorrow too soon?"

"Tomorrow's fine." He set the cheesecake back on the counter and wound an arm around Collie's waist, pulling her against him. "This mean you'll stay wit'me t'night?"

She whispered as she leaned to kiss his cheek, "Ya got ta ask?"

Darien turned his head at the last moment to catch that kiss on his lips instead. She returned the favor by reaching down to goose him.

He was unfazed by the goosing. Darien lowered his head to nip her once on the neck, then untangled from her. "Lis'n, babe. Ya ev'a get that feelin' again, ya eith'a call me, or ya get wit'friends, uh' Don't be alone."

Colleen started to argue, but the Aussie could be just as stubborn as she was so, all she said was, "Alright."

Darien knotted his fingers in her hair and tilt her head back to look at him. "Ya get these feelings f'ra reason, babe. Be safe, uh?"

She found herself nose to nose with Fenner. "Darien, ya e'ver take yer own advice?" She chuckled softly.

"What' I was safe." He feigned offense.

"This time," Collie murmured.

Sliding a knuckle under her chin, he tipped her head up again. "Somethin' ya need t'get off your chest, babe?"

She met his eyes and brushed her fingertips over his cheek. "Actually, I was thinkin' about the first time I kissed ya ....and why."

There was that smirk again! "Why did ya?"

"Several reasons. Ya don't know any of 'em?"

"Well, aside from me rugged good looks and complete irresistibility..." Darien winked and buffed his nails on his shirt.

"Yeah, those too." She grinned from ear to ear. "Anya was tapin' yer ribs at the time."

"Don't tell me it was out'ta pity!"

She looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "Oh, hell, no! It was," she smiled, it was somewhere between delight and childish glee, "an opportunity that I just couldn't pass up."

"As I said. Irresistible." He grinned and buffed his nails again. He then caught her chin and steered her lips toward his.

"Yer a shameless..." she never finished that sentence. Darien had mastered the lesson on how to shush Colleen MacLeod.

"Damn straight I am." He grinned and stole another bite of the cheesecake. "So what else I miss, uh?"

There would be plenty of time later to tell him about the visit to Riverview and what the forensics specialist had to say. There would be time to tell him that Maggie was looking forward to the Harvest Festival. There would be time for all of that ....after he'd been given a proper welcome home.

((Based on live play. Thank you to the players of Darien Fenner, Tara Rynieyn, and Maranya Valkonan.))

June 2011

With the exception of a packet of some rather innocuous photographs being sent to Darien's office, Colleen's secret admirer had all but faded from her memory. It had been months since he'd made contact. So, Mr. and Mrs. Fenner let their guard down a bit; they enjoyed a second honeymoon and spring in Italy.

Among the stack of mail that had piled up was a thick envelope postmarked Venezia and with "Do not Bend" carefully printed on it. Thinking it was something they had ordered, Collie tore into the packet with a bright grin on her face. The grin faded when she saw it was more photographs of her. This time she was shown with Darien. They were taken from angles that showed the photographer wanted to be hidden from their view. Who could have followed them and why'

They were harmless pictures of them riding in a gondola in Venice, having dinner at a sidewalk cafe in Florence, tossing coins in the Trevi Fountain and walking into Vatican City. Interestingly enough, there were no close shots were taken in Earth's smallest country. Colleen pondered the significance of that as she shook her head. She nearly put the pictures back into the envelope when one fell on the floor. Her eyes widened and flashed with emerald fire. It had been taken on New Year's Eve in Arcadia. Her hands shook! No one had known where they were going that night! It had been an impulse to drop their fancy wedding plans and elope. Just how close had this stranger been" Was it even a stranger" Had this been someone they knew?

Frustration swept over her as she rifled through the rest of the pictures. Collie saw red and it wasn't because of the color of the lovely silk gown that was laying on the floor of their hotel suite. Someone had taken long range pictures of their rooms and had send them to her. Despite having closed the curtains to the bedroom, the photographs showed her doing things that only her husband should have seen. It was one thing to be photographed in one's nightgown while breakfasting on the balcony, it was quite another to be photographed in flagrante delicto.

Disgusted, she shoved the pictures back into the envelope and put them away, out of the children's view, to show Darien when he returned home. She had been too upset to call and warn him that anything he opened that day at the office might have been more of the same.

On the day of the Midsummer Festival, Colleen received another packet of pictures. Pictures that had been taken through the gates of their home. She had her back up now, the bastard had hit too close to home. Even Darien's gift of Max, a beautiful German Shepherd, didn't ease her mind. She had other things on it.

Colleen hadn't had her courses since just before Beltane; she had put it down to anxiety. Lately, her body had been giving her messages that she could no longer ignore; queasy stomach and a weary feeling. It had gone on for a week or so and unless she was mistaken, the baby they had talked about wanting would arrive sometime in the winter. It made her happy and frightened at the same time. What if the mystery photographer was intent on doing harm to her family' A baby would be vulnerable, especially one with human father. She should have felt nothing but joy and happiness, but with someone out there getting closer and closer to home, she was worried. First things first, confirmation needed to be made. Then they could go from there.

The redhead gathered her courage and her strength. She started the wheels in motion for extra security around the property. The next thing she did was schedule an appointment for an exam. She'd tell Darien about her suspicions later that day. During the party, perhaps. Would he take her seriously after a few glasses of scotch' Would he notice that she was purposefully not drinking any' Despite being a very good investigative journalist, Darien often missed what was right under his nose. He was so used to having to dig for facts, that he sometimes forgot that telling clues were staring him in the face!

A few days before, Colleen had been out shopping with Rhiannon Harker and the elder Nicole Brock. While her mother and sister were caught up in the festivities of the season and what child would like what toy, it was Nicole that first noticed the presence of a man that had been avoiding eye contact. He'd been in her shop. In fact, he seemed to window shop often in town. He was the sort that tended to wear things to keep his face from being seen. He never seemed to be a threat before. Before, yes, that was the operative word. Now, he wasn't just a customer in her shop or a lookieloo passing by. No, now he was a potential threat. Was it her shop he'd planned to rob' There had been a number of break ins recently. Maybe he was the culprit' Was it something else?

He'd been watching all this time as they shopped and collected bundles from various stores. The women were loading up Rhi's new Land Rover. It was no easy task keeping up with the mother and her daughters. They were a force of nature. That was part of what had attracted Randy Vickers to Colleen's presence in the first place. She had a temper that could rival an explosion from Vesuvius when it was set off, but most of the time it was a quiet strength that came from her. His angel, that's what she was, and he was determined to have her for himself. He had to find a way to get her to see that he was more than the man who'd been taking pictures or sending flowers. Darien Fenner, her sleazy bastard of a husband, was the one in the way. He had to take that apart. The pictures hadn't been enough, not even those that had been taken in a manner that implied more than interviews had been going on between Darien and a few of Rhydin's prominent female citizens.

It had been months that he plotted and waited. Ever since that interview of Fenner by Chase Dawson, Randy had designs on the one thing Fenner had that, so far, he couldn't offer Colleen. He hated Fenner with a passion that been fueled even more with the announcement that a child was to be born. The child, that was the weapon and first victim that Randy planned to claim. She'd need someone to comfort her after it was lost, wouldn't she" He'd be there for her while her husband was off gallivanting the multiverse in search of that prime piece of investigative reporting. He was careful in his plans this time. Shoes had been dropped off for repairs and he'd managed to get his hands on them while someone was flirting with the young lady at the counter. It didn't hurt that he encouraged the act with chicanery and got into the young man's head. New Year's Eve, she said needed the shoes back by then. Randy worked his tricks on those lovely shoes and it would spread to the one that was to repair them. The last thing the ladies did in their shopping extravaganza was to pick up those shoes. Inwardly, Randy smiled as he watched them leaving the shop. He hadn't given any thought to the grief he was going to cause. Few like him ever did.

The shopping was done. The sweet scent of pine filled the air when the women entered Lasher's Restaurant for a snack. Garlands were strung across the ceiling with mistletoe hung in various places. Collie had plans for the private party room for late afternoon on New Year's Eve. Dinner and a tango as she'd come to call it. It was more than just New Years Eve, it was their anniversary twice over. It began with a coffee date on New Year's Eve that lead to dinner on New Year's Day. She'd planned it carefully down to the last detail. What is it they say, "Life is what happens while we're busy making plans""

While her daughters were settled at a table, Collie went to attend to a call of nature.

"Did you see him?" Nicole asked her younger sister.

"Yes." Rhiannon nodded as she opened the menu. "He was in your shop last month when I brought the children over."

"There's been some robberies in the last few months. I've been wondering if he's one of the crooks." Nicole placed the orders for her drink and her mother's in between discussing the odd man that had been taking an interest in their activities.

"Good thing we were taught to never be unarmed," Rhi said as she pointed out the appetizer she wanted.

They mentioned their admirer to their mother, who had made a mental note to be watchful of him. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered just who he was.

He should have been there.

Internal bleeding, the surgeon said. They had to deliver the twins prematurely, he had said. It had taken precious minutes just to rouse Darien enough from the dull-eyed coma of disquiet he had lost himself in and ask for his signature. In case of death, the forms said. Invasive procedures, they said. No extraordinary measures. He didn't read them.

"Do what you have to," Darien had told wall of the waiting room before the on-call personnel hurried back into the trauma room where his wife was being prepped for surgery.

He should have been there. Mir's scream had pealed through the entire house, but Darien was too busy going through paperwork in his office, trying to solve the Post bankruptcy problem. He'd heard the scream and thought it was a tantrum. He had just one more paragraph to read. One more email to send.

She'll make a full recovery, the surgeon said. The twins are going to be in NICU for a few weeks, he said.

He should have been there. But even then the wide Riverview doors bade him exit. Indefinitely.

He should have been there. Would he ever be?

Later that morning - MacLeod House

Rhiannon took over the business end of running the household while her elder sister, Nicole, attended to the practical things like cooking. Rhi went into the library which housed her mother's study. Letters were arranged in neat little stacks; business letters, personal correspondence, bills to be paid, things to be filed. The last delivery had come just after noon on the twenty-ninth and had yet to be sorted. Rhiannon bit her lower lip. Her mother hadn't seen any of it. Had she, she might had the same feeling of foreboding that her daughter did from one of the letters as her fingers moved over it. The stink of dark magic wasn't fully apparent until the envelope was opened. Rhiannon's lip curled in a snarl much like an animal whose den had been invaded.

The envelope contained a condolence card. The back of it carried a message in plain print: 'My Angel, I'll be there to comfort you in your time of grief.' Grief" What' "Nicole!" Rhi's voice echoed through the first floor of the house.

The redhead dropped the mixing bowl on the counter and nearly ran to the library. Outside of dueling venues, her younger sister rarely yelled. Shamrock green eyes swept over Rhiannon. "What's wrong?"

The answer was a scowl as Rhi held out the card to Nicole. "What do you make of this?"

Nikki didn't have to touch the card. Her sister's face said it all. It was a warning that they should have seen; that they should have felt. Nicole's normally sunny expression became grim as she finally read the card. "A sympathy card?" Nicole's brows shot up. "Did either of our sisters get a picture of the man that was following them?"

Rhi's braid swung as her head shook. "I don't know. I'll make the calls."

"I suggest telling Darien as soon as possible," a heartbeat passed then two, "he needs to know. It's not Mother this," her voice came out through gritted teeth, " thing wanted to hurt. He planned on killing our sisters. The murder of innocents is an unforgivable sin."

Rhi tapped her fingers on the desk. "Maybe the some of shops they were in had security footage."

"Start on home ground, little sister. The restaurant has security cameras in various places. Meanwhile, I have food to cook." Nicole went back to the kitchen.

Once Nicole was back to kitchen detail, Rhiannon called their sisters, who said they'd check their phones and files, but neither recalled taking pictures of their so-called admirer. The restaurant was closed for the holiday, so that would have to wait. An incoming call was on the office line. "Navarra Farms. Rhiannon Brock speaking." The greeting was standard operating procedure. When she heard the voice on the other end, it was Hospitality Services at Riverview Clinic. They had a floral delivery for her mother. Since she was currently confined to a suite near NICU, deliveries of flowers were restricted in order to prevent contact of possible allergens with the newborns. "Can you take it to the Animal Therapy Department' There's a small office there where we do our paperwork." Before the other person and of the line could disconnect, Rhi asked, "Is there any kind of message with the flowers?" There was, but Rhi or another family member would have to claim the flowers and open it. "I'll be there later today." She clicked her tongue. "For the time being, don't bring this up to my mother or Mr. Fenner. They're having a hard enough time right now." She found it odd that the call had come to the house then remembered, that despite Darien being next of kin, her sister still held a medical power of attorney. Apparently, Darien was occupied and for his sake, Rhi wanted to believe that he was right there with her mother and not off on a bender.

Midday - Riverview Clinic

It had been her day off, but Rhi went in to the office to see if there was a connection between the card that had arrived at the house and flowers. The basket on her desk looked harmless enough; yellow roses and heather tied off with topaz colored ribbons. Whoever the sender was knew her mother well enough to know her favorite flowers and her birthstone color. Not someone in the family or a friend, though. Rhi suspected anything from family would have come packaged with something offering well wishes on the girls' births. She bent her head to inhale the fragrance of the flowers and spotted something tucked between the greenery. The card attached by Hospitality Services noted that the flowers had been delivered just after midnight on New Years Eve. Only the household and staff in Labor and Delivery had a clue Colleen was there at that hour.

Rhi mulled it over as she opened the sender's card. Who might Fenner had called at that hour" Twert, possibly, but not likely. Anya" No, Anya would have been called once her mother was brought in as an emergency case. Aja" Maybe, but again, the basket wasn't personalized enough. Rhi suspected that had Aja been called, she'd have been serving Fenner coffee by the pot full to keep him awake. Rhiannon's hands shook with fury as she read an even more chilling message than before. 'I grieve your loss with you, my Angel. It will bring us closer together.' Worst case scenario ran through Rhi's head, what if Darien was schizophrenic or had multiple personality disorder" What if Chase Dawson had been right and the whole thing was a fabulous publicity stunt' No, no, that wasn't right. Fenner was an arrogant bastard, but he wanted those girls, alive and well. She'd seen too many moments when he thought no one else was looking. She'd seen him running Maggie around on his shoulders and indulging her sweet tooth just a bit too much. Fenner could have killed someone, maybe, but not a child, not anyone's child let alone his own.

Rhiannon took the flowers and the card home with her. It was Garrick, often mistaken for her twin, that had the gift of Psychometry. Maybe, he could find out something that wasn't so obvious to the rest of the world.

Mid-January - Mid-February 2012

"Why don't'cha let me do my job, Rhi?" It was, perhaps, a good thing that Colleen had not been there to have heard Darien's words. With "The Rhydin Post" closing its doors, just what would his job be? They had discussed freelancing and how it might be good for him to work that way for a while. It wasn't like they needed the money. Dare had his pride, like every man, and earned his own keep. That was the pretty much the reason it was decided that MacLeod money wouldn't be used to bail out "The Post." They called it a conflict of interest if anyone asked. Simply, it was in the best interests of their marriage and family to not take that step.

Colleen had never liked being confined no matter the reasons. It had been more than postpartum depression that made her unhappy. She felt overwhelmed and somewhat abandoned. Darien's freelance career was going well, but his absence, despite it being in short bursts had begun to remind of her first marriage. She managed to put on a happy face for his visits, but once she felt his presence had left, the depression set in again. Plenty of texts and pictures were sent, mostly about the girls, but it wasn't the same as living in the same house or hearing the familiar heartbeat under her ear when she slept.

Having Abby in the room with her part of the day did help. The infant girl was bright eyed and rather lively. Madison had been a bit slower than her sister to gain weight and and length. It was put down to her lungs other vital organs being underdeveloped for her gestational age at birth. Overjoyed that both girls had survived, Collie and Darien still blamed themselves for the accident. It could have been prevented at least that's what Collie thought. She'd been shielded from the truth of the matter. They couldn't hide it from her forever anymore than she could keep hiding the depression. It had to come out sooner or later.

Somehow, the villain in the drama managed to evade the searches. Several sets fingerprints had been found on the pictures and the cards. There had to be a common thread. The few pictures that Rhiannon and Nicole had taken on their holiday shopping trip showed a few blurred humanoid images in the background. Could one have been their mystery man'

14 February 2012

It was early evening, the girls had been taken to the nursery so Colleen get some rest. The charge nurse had just got done handing her yet another pile of pamphlets on postpartum depression. Collie looked at the woman like she had grown a third eye and set the pamphlets on the over bed table. "I don't need these," Colleen said as she swung her legs around to the side of the bed.

The nurse shook her head. "Yes, you do. Depression is a serious matter. We can't have you ...." she never got the chance to finish her sentence.

"Can't 'ave me doin' what?" Collie's eyes narrowed. "Why is it ya think I'm depressed, hmm?"

"Postpartum depression is not an uncommon condition. It's why you've been here so long."

"No, I've been 'ere this long because my daughters need me ta be. It's time fer us ta be goin' 'ome."

"Your doctor won't approve it."

"Young lady," the tone became quiet all too quiet, "I know full well the dangers o' postpartum depression. I was midwifin' when yer seven times great grandmother was gleam in 'er mum's eye." Collie cleared her throat and stood up. When she spoke again, she kept her cool. "I'll be getting out of here soon, by the end of the month. Do you really think I haven't noticed the people that mind my doorway from the hallways" Or the ones that accompany the nurses that bring the girls in and out of here?" Her eyes were shifting to a deep green color. Anyone that knew her well enough would understand that tears or an explosion were on the horizon. "Since you don't seem to be at liberty to divulge that information, find me someone that can. Now."

Being occupied with the nurse, Collie had missed Darien's entrance into the room. Her secret was out, the pamphlets were out in the open and he had walked in on the lecture. When she realized her husband was, in fact, present, she turned to look at him and uttered that same words she had when she had been in Riverview with RBF, "I want to go home, Dare."

16 February 2012

As things are wont to do, a turn for the unexpected happened. Colleen was sitting on the edge of the bed brushing out her hair. Something that she hadn't seen in her near five hundred years caught her attention. A silvery strand among the golden red. Collie's hand shook as saw it. It wasn't the silver strand and aging that really bothered her. It was, however, a sign that her ties to her home were slowly deteriorating; her magic would be fading. It was that magic and her children that had sustained her for lifetimes.

There was a problem. How was she going to explain this debacle to her husband" Her husband that hated magic with a passion. Her husband that had, once upon a time, been in the middle of the insanity that had been called Propositon 37. That was, of course, before she had met him. He had either softened his opinion or simply didn't speak of the subject. It was much like Colleen didn't talk about it, especially after hearing his reasons why.

Colleen had been lost in thought as she ran her finger over the silver strand that rested in her palm.

Rhiannon Harker's voice broke the silence. "You never told him, did you?"

Collie just shook her head.

"Then I'll do it. Spare us both the argument, Mother. He's your husband, he needs to know. I couldn't care less right now what his opinions are about magic. I'm not going to sit here and watch you wither away because you don't want to offend his sensibilities." At that moment, Rhi snatched up the cell phone from her mother's night table. She found Darien's name in the contact list and rang the number.

When her opportunity to speak at that damned voice mail came, Rhi's voice took on a rare tone of command that went beyond that mother tone she often used on her children. "Darien, this is Rhiannon Harker. I'm going to talk, you need to listen. We're getting Mother out of Riverview in the morning. Be here or don't be here according to your scheduling needs. Simple fact is that that remaining here for this length of time has become detrimental to her health. She needs a few days at the farm to recoup. It's magic related and we can stop the explanation right there."

The following morning, Rhiannon Harker watched from the lobby window as her mother, the youngest of the children, and Darien Fenner climbed into a limo to go home. She knew he wasn't happy about her interference. A woman that had faced plenty of demons in her lifetime had no problem dealing with her outraged stepfather. Colleen staying alive was what mattered, that task was done.

6 May 2012 - MacLeod House

The phone was ringing.

"I'm not going to tell you what you can't do, but I just wish....You just got home!"

The phone was still ringing. It went to voicemail.

"I'm not gon'na not work, Coll."

"That's not what I said."

"Then what?"

Darien regretted raising his voice the moment he spoke. Deliberately he turned to pour himself a drink from the mahogany liquor cabinet in his study to spare himself the hurt look he brought to his wife's face. He knew why Collie was so upset. Since the girls had been born he had spent more time away than home with them, traveling off-world for sometimes weeks at a time. It was just work, and he couldn't control it, he would tell her. He'd said this so many times he almost began to believe it was actually true.

The phone began ringing again. Upstairs, one of the girls began to cry. After a brief glance at the stairs he answered the phone. On the other end of the line was an automated message, confirming his reservations at a lounge in WestEnd that evening.

"Darien?" Collie said, her voice quiet.

"I've a meetin' wit' Fio," he replied, hanging up.

There was a long pause where he didn't turn around. Then, a whisper, "Of course you do."

Keys in hand, Darien left the study and moved past his wife in the hallway on the way to the front door. On the second floor, both children were now wailing loudly.

"Darien, Madison is..."

He looked at Collie finally, his hand on the doorknob. She lingered in the hallway and studied him for several moments, then set her jaw and took up a resigned lean against the wall. "I'll tell you later."

No doubt she would, if he went home that night at all. The door yawned widely and let him outside, where his racing bike was waiting in the drive.

They'd understand one day. When his drug-addicted father had deserted Darien and his mother, leaving Darien to clean up her vomit and keep her from drowning in a bottle, he'd hated him and wanted to see him die. But in time, Darien resolved that his father leaving his family behind was the best thing he ever could have done for them. It took him a long time, but he finally understood.

One day, his girls would, too.

]

((The following multi post piece was co-written with Darien's player. Thank you!))

7 May 2012 Early Morning - MacLeod House

It had been a long night. A light burned in the large window to the left of the front door. Colleen was in her study working on some legal documents and general business ledgers. She'd been reminded that Abby and Madison had not yet been added to her will and those documents were on the desk for signatures. The house was empty save its mistress and the youngest of the children, who were presently asleep in the nursery. The others had left for a little trip to one of the lake cottages for a bit of camping. She muttered to herself, "Next dose in a half hour, better not ferget."

It was quiet when Darien let himself in - blessedly so - and so he took that opportunity to raid the liquor cabinet for a small nightcap before bed. Well, bed may have been an exaggeration. A nightcap, followed by the four hours of sleep he could get before he had to pack his bag and head back to the spaceport.

Collie heard the front door opening and got up from her desk. Colleen left her shoes behind as she was wont to do and went through the library and out into the hallway. The grandfather clock in the hall ticked away reminding her of the time once again. She needed to talk to Darien, this had to be done. She was at her wits end. What else would it take to get through to him' She'd already arranged it so his key wouldn't be working in the liquor cabinet. The lock on the front door wouldn't have done it. She paused in the hall to listen and went into the bedroom to open the french doors that lead out into the private garden. It would let some fresh spring air into the room. If she had her way, his travel bag was about to be a theft victim along with that damned phone. All she needed was a little uninterrupted time with him.

Inside his office the journo discarded what he discovered was a useless key on his desk and sunk into his chair, rubbing his hand over his face. What was he about to do' Right. The research Fio asked him to look into. A hard shove opened the desk drawer where his laptop was stored, and as it did a flask slid over the computer. Pleasantly surprised, he unscrewed it and checked its contents. Empty. Go figure.

In the bedroom, Collie stashed his travel bag in her part of the walk-in closet where few dared to go. "There's breakfast in the kitchen if yer hungry," she called out as she left the bedroom. Yes, she knew he was there and was letting him know.

Well, she hadn't gone to bed. Shutting his desk drawer Darien rose again and made for the kitchen. If he couldn't have scotch he could damn well find a good stout to unwind with. Unbuttoning his shirt on the way to the kitchen, he didn't care enough to keep his heels from dragging. Jetlag and overwork will do that to you, among other things.

She'd been up to the nursery and come back down by the time he got to the kitchen. A covered plate of eggs and toast with a cup of tea rested on the counter awaiting Darien as Collie moved into the kitchen. "How'd yer meetin' go?"

For a few seconds Darien stared at the meal, then he passed it, reached into the 'fridge and retrieved a beer that he immediately uncapped. "Ar'roight," he answered flatly. "Fio's gon'na run again, looks like."

"Fio runnin' again isn't exactly unexpected." She took a bottle of chilled wine from the fridge and, despite the early hour, poured herself a glass. " I felt like I walked inta the intermission o' a play when I stopped by yer table earlier."

"It was a professional favor," he told her, lifting a shoulder. "Not somethin' she wanted made public." After taking in her body language, he added, "I take m'work very seriously, Coll. You know that."

"I know that, ya always have." She blew some hair out of her eyes. "But tongues wag in town 'n' bein' someone runnin' fer re-election is like walkin' about wit' big target painted on yer back."

"What're you gettin' at?"

She set the wine glass on the counter and was quiet a moment. Her expression made it clear she was considering her next words carefully. "Ever since the girls were born, Darien, we've grown," she swallowed a lump in her throat, "distant. I'm no' sure why, " she caught her lower lip between her teeth. "Felt like you were so dazzled by Fio, that I was a bit player in the band." She huffed softly.

Mid-sip, Darien lowered his bottle and eyed his wife. "I'm not sleepin' with 'er," he told her simply.

She met those familiar aquamarines with a steady gaze. "Oh, I believe ya. The one thing I never thought ya'd be is a cheatin' husband." Colleen swirled the merlot in her glass. "Doesn't stop me from bein'" gestured with her hand moving away from her body as if bidding the right word to come out, "jealous....maybe annoyed, that ya 'ave time ta go traipsin' off fer meetin's wit' Fio, but little time fer us." And there it was, out on the table.

"I love you, Coll. And the girls."

"I know that. I just..." She held her breath a moment and thought about Maddie's medications that were in the fridge, but not out in plain sight. Maybe it would have been easier if she had left them right under his nose. "We need ta talk, Darien." Darien....not Dare....and the tone was neutral. At this point it was all she could do to not throttle him; it was why she cleared the rest of the family out of the house. She wanted no distractions.

He drew from the mouth of the bottle and leaned against the counter, his expression acute. "I thought we were talkin'."

"About somethin' else."

"So talk."

"I've got ya, sweetheart. Mama's here." She had already lifted a fussing Madison out of her crib and swabbed her thighs with alcohol. Abby, meanwhile, was fussing some, but it was along the lines of 'who woke me up this time"' "I'm sorry, Maddie, I should have been more careful. If I'd stayed home then you wouldn't be sick now." It did no good to be angry, and it didn't fix things. That left Collie feeling somewhat helpless as she stuck a needle into one small thigh and the second into the other thigh. "I can take the pain away, but not the cause. I'm sorry..." the words were murmured over and over until Madison finally quieted down. Collie had been so wrapped up in what Madison needed and her own guilt over it that she temporarily lost sight of everything else.

"Collie." Abby shrieking at them wasn't making things any easier. "Collie," Darien said again. His daughter only got louder. Letting out an agitated sound, he circled around the cribs and bent to pick up the bigger of the girls and shush her. As he did he zeroed his gaze in on his wife, who upnodded to indicate she'd heard him over the din of Abby's wailing.

"Juice," she said. The chilled bottle was sitting on the table next to Abby's crib. She finally had Madison settled enough that she, too, could have her morning bottle of apple juice and did. Darien picked up the readied bottle and offered it to the wailing babe if only to silence her for a second. It was amazing how quickly it worked. Once they had a moment of peace, he prompted her again, "Collie..."

Collie hadn't slept in two days, and it showed on her face as she settled into one of the rocking chairs with Madison. "She has a non contagious strain of RBF. The best they can figure is that she got it from me when I was pregnant and it took a while for it to show up." She tipped her head down to kiss their daughter's forehead before looking at Darien again. "We nearly lost her," the words almost a whisper. It was another thing she hadn't been able to get him to sit still long enough to tell him.

He stopped rocking Abby and stilled. "F'r how long?"

"I told ya ....two months ago. That's when it started."

The bottle empty, Darien angled his daughter to his chest upright and leaned against her crib. "Is she...?"

"They're not sure," Collie told him, reading his thoughts. "They're confident they can cure the virus, but ...." she lifted Madison up against her shoulder, "they said they 'aven't determined the extent of the damage ta 'er wee body." She took a long breath. " 'Idon must've gotten there in time fer Abby, but not Madison." She couldn't hold it back anymore, the tears ran down her face.

When he stilled again, Abby began to fuss. Agitated, Darien switched shoulders and rubbed her back. His breath pattern had changed since Collie had spoken. It was deeper. More uneven. "Coll, I don't....You nev'a...."

She knew he was contrite, but still needed to say it. "I just couldn't greet ya at the door wit' 'by the way, dear, our daughter is so sick she almost died.' " From his body language, she got the impression that he finally understood how alone she'd felt.

Finally Abby seemed to settle and drift off to sleep, and Darien silently laid her back in her crib. He placed his hands on the rungs and leaned on the heels of his palms, towering over the tiny piece of furniture . "Y'locked my liquor cabinet, didn't ya?"

She sighed and nodded. "Yes, I couldn't think o' any other way ta get ya ta come out o' the man cave." She frowned a bit. "Standing out in the hall stark naked would do no good wit' a door in the way. Besides, I think ya've been so busy, ya wouldn't 'ave noticed."

"I get it," he said. After tucking his daughter in, he turned away from them. "You c'n leave my bag in'th closet." Somehow he knew she'd stashed it there to keep him from leaving. Collie didn't ask how.

"Yer sure?" He intended to stay' Collie kissed Maddie's temple before settling her into her crib. She went over to kiss Abby's cheek before grabbing up the now empty and recovered hypos.

His fingers gripped the rails of the crib again before he finally let go. "Goodnight, Collie." His walk out of the room was slow, but it didn't lead far.

"Good night, sweetheart. Dare, just one thing ..." she called after him, "they've got doctors' appointments day after tomorrow....if yer goin', try not ta punch out the lab people." Maybe that was enough to say she believed him about leaving the bag in the closet. In the meanwhile, she disposed of the syringes and went to the kitchen to eat before attempting for the umpteenth time to sleep.

Sleep didn't come for some time. The redhead had always taught her children to have a back up plan, and this one was hers: a penned a letter, along with a short note. The letter was securely tucked into an inside zipper pocket of Darien's carry-on suitcase, the envelope addressed to "My beloved husband." She was sure he'd find it, eventually. Freshly laundered clothes replaced the dirty ones inside, and once the bag was zipped closed a separate note was tacked onto it:

Darien,

I feel like I strong-armed you into a decision and I never meant to be so heavy handed. For that, I apologize. Sometimes, we must do what we must. Whatever you have decided, know that I love you and that this is your home. Take a moment and sign the trust documents on my desk, would you? They're to protect Abby and Madison's inheritance.

All my love,

Colleen

What sleep she did have after that didn't last long. With a start, Collie woke only a few hours later to blinding sunlight filtering in through the french doors. Apparently the twins took this to mean it was play or meal time again, as both were wailing loudly on the baby monitors. Exhausted, Collie rolled out of bed and slid on her robe. The middle-of-the-night and early morning feedings had become such a habit for her she no longer thought about it.

As she was on her way to the girls' room, though, a notion struck her. "Dare?" she called. She carried the portable baby monitor with her down the hallway and checked his study. Then the kitchen. "Darien?" she repeated. The house was full of crying children, but it felt far too quiet. With a growing sense of foreboding, one she'd felt before, Collie made her way back to the bedroom. Slowly she turned on the light to the closet and looked inside.

Darien's bag was gone.

And Then ....You Set Your Affairs in Order

8 May 2012 - Navarra Banquet Hall

It had been a long time since a meeting of this scale had been called together. The buzzing among the group included comments on every subject from retirement to further family expansion.

Colleen's voice boomed over the crowd, "All right people, settle in. We've got plenty ta get done." She wore a black suit with a white blouse and t-strap pumps. No wrap skirts or jeans, today, it was a formal meeting and she dressed the part.

Her children knew that tone and found their seats. At the moment, they weren't a family, they were a corporation. Their mother was the chairman of the board. Several business associates settled in as well.

The youngest at the table was Rachael, who was fifteen. She was about to get her first taste of what all her mother did to keep things going. The younger children were in playroom in the lower level of the building being supervised by Elaine Aqua. Rachael was suddenly wishing she was down there with them.

Collie straightened a few papers and set her notes on the lectern. "To answer the first question on some of your inquiring minds, no, there is not going to be a new addition to the family." A few chuckles went through the group as Collie turned her notes about and made sure all the pages were in order. Something inside her twisted when she realized how final that sounded. "We are here, in part, because the youngest in the family, Madison, is ill and undergoing specialized medical treatment. I expect the treatment to be completed in mid June. However, her doctors have warned me it might go on longer if the third phase isn't as successful as they hope. She responded well to phase two and they might move the plans ahead. As we all should know, doctors are people and cannot predict the will of higher powers." She cleared her throat. "The point is, she and Abby will have the bulk of my attention until this crisis has passed. As I was there for all of you in your time of need, I must be there for her."

Nicole, the younger, held up her index finger to indicate she had a question. "So, long story short, Maddie needs you the most right now and we pick up the slack?"

"Precisely," Collie replied and nodded. "On the agenda before task delegation begins, is the following. Until further notice, you will disregard and not bring to my attention any gossip or other juicy tidbits splattered about town regarding my husband. I do not need any added stress at this time. Distraction, stress, anything that might even remotely have an effect on Madison, I need to avoid. Darien will not be living here for the time being. Due to the requirements of his profession and odd schedule, we have decided it would be in Madison's best interests for him to be away rather than cause any disruption in her treatment." She managed to avoid any changes in her businesslike demeanor as the half truth was delivered. "Unless you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that something is going on then ...Let. It. Alone."

There was murmuring at the table. How long had it been since they had seen this side of her" The hard nosed executive that could make the toughest man cry for his mother. In short, she wasn't quite being a bitch, but heaven help anyone that pressed that 51% line right now.

"Squire Brock?" Colleen looked down the table at her sapphire eyed teenager.

Rhi's head bobbed a bit before she nearly spun it toward her mother. "Yeah?" She cleared her throat as she remembered the protocol. "Lady Fenner?"

"Keep your Greek up and Irish down. Unless weapons are already in use, you keep yours off Darien. No matter what you think he's up to."

"Mother," Rhi waved a hand, "if I'm ignoring the gossip as you suggested then I won't be swayed by rumors and innuendo," she paused and made a gesture with her hand that ended with her palm being held at an angle and away from herself, "unless he's spewing it."

"In that case, use your best judgment to respond with words, but don't kill him." Collie chuckled before sobering. "Gossip mongers intending to take one party to task often destroy relationships without a thought to the collateral damage. I don't plan on being a casualty. Are we all clear on this?" Murmurs of agreement and nods went through the group. "Good," her tone had settled into one of determination.

"Several of you are representatives of local firms and organizations that are used to doing your business dealings with me. My representatives, here present, will be attending to your needs until I am able to do so again."

She looked around at the faces and suddenly felt like she was reading and administering her own last will and testament. Something had died inside her when she found that bag gone from the closet. She was hurt, and did what she always did when the pain wasn't convenient. Collie buried herself in work and caring for her children. She hid the pain with anger and pressing herself to unprecedented limits. The room was quiet save the shuffling of paper. The redhead cleared her throat and got on with the business at hand.

21 May 2012 - From the Journal of Colleen Fenner

A few days ago, some of the ladies in our crowd got together to give Rachael Wynter a hen party. A hen party is another name for a bachelorette party. A bachelor party is when the men get to crow and strut like roosters. A hen party where the ladies get together and do things that would make the men crow! I left quite early to take care of the girls. Maddie can't be off schedule.

Last evening, I presided over the marriage of Rachael Wynter to Roderick Douglas. It was nothing less than beautiful. It was especially good for me, under the circumstances, to be surrounded with the love and happiness the crowd was generating. Our Maggie was the flower girl and was absolutely tickled to play an important role in the wedding party! It didn't hurt that her adorable friend, Doran, was the ring bearer. The children displayed their company manners through most of the ceremony. I'm sure Ebon and Phen were pleased that their son is a fine reflection of his parents. I must admit it was amusing to see the children hushing a few of the adults!

Leaving Maggie in the capable hands of Rhi and Eregor as well as her dancing partner, Doran, I slipped away from the crowd. While the warmth and energy was healing, I needed to get home to give Maddie her medication. When I returned home, the house was quiet. Nicole was tending the twins and the others were gone to bed. I fed the girls and slept on the daybed in the room next to the nursery. The sun comes in those windows very early in the day and I wanted to be greeted by warmth and light.

https://i.imgur.com/ISZEEDA.jpg

30 May 2012 - Red Dragon Inn

The visit to the inn started out well enough with pleasantries exchanged between Colleen and Fionna. They discussed Lirssa's appointment to the Academy on Pharos. Save for Madison Fenner, who was being treated for a variant of RBF, their children were all doing well. It was when the contents of letters Collie had begun to open reveal something she thought was long dead that things got to be very interesting!

Colleen spilled the contents of the envelope and the normal exterior calm broke. Pictures and some form of media tape. Her hands shook, but she quickly closed one over the other to get it to ease off. It was a minute or two before a flash of anger appeared and she muttered as she stared at the images. "I thought this was over..." She slapped the pictures on the table. She took a breath and looked around, a quick change of scene was in order. She offered a few waves people she recognized then looked to Fio. "You're our friend and I trust you."

Fionna drew out the chair across from Coll slowly and dropped into it with the same perplexed expression that had carried her across the room. "What's wrong?"

She slid an upside down picture across to where Fio was sitting. "I trust you," again in murmurs. "Which is why I don't believe this is real."

Questions in the silence, puzzles in the look that she gave her as she reached for the photo and pulled it close to turn it over. It took the Governor a moment to register what she was seeing. She let her fingers slide from her glass and rubbed the dampness from her fingertips on her skirt before lifting it closer and really peering at it. She shot a look from the photo to Coll and back. "Isn't that interesting..."

She nodded by way of answer to Fio. Again in quiet tones. "Isn't it, though' Two years and we're still trying to catch this ....person."

"No idea who it is" What they want?" She turned the photo a little aslant, eying it along the grain of the paper, looking for some sign of the trickery that made that conversation look like so much more than it was.

She slid the rest of the photos across they were much of the same, mostly of Darien in various places. If Collie hadn't known better, she would have sworn she'd hired a PI to follow him, that's just how the photos looked. "Who, not yet. What' Yes." She sighed. "Whoever it is, seems feel I belong to him and is looking to take my husband apart piece by piece."

She set the first one face up on the table between them to take up the others. In the first, Fionna was cozily leaning into Darien here in the inn, worrying at his earlobe with her lips, a secret in her dark eyes.

She tucked the tape back into the envelope for later. "If it was a game of poker, I'd say the ante was just upped."

Each one that followed was similar in tenor, though one the Governor did set between them showing the pair of them in front of the inn, hands clasped as they talked. "That one is real, but it was innocent. He was giving me advice about ....something." A couple of the photos left her nearly gawking down at the paper. "They're good, whoever they are. You don't know anyone from the past, who...?"

"Editing does causes a lot of trouble for those that willingly believe without questioning." She took a long drink from her bottle of tea. A brief nod was given to Fio's remarks on the photo. "You know a side of Darien that few do or even want to believe is there; the caring friend." She shook her head and frowned. "I'm sure I do, Fionna, but about three years ago, I suffered memory loss from an accident. It was so bad that I could barely remember my children. I've been working with a therapist and much has come back, but he says could be five days, could be years."

"Have you tried a mage?" She tossed the rest of the photos down on the table and reached for her glass.

She gathered the photos and slid them back into the envelope. "Yes, dreamingfasting....all kinds of things," the weariness and exasperation she endured during all of that was reflected in her voice. Suddenly, Collie laughed. "I just realized something."

The laugh instantly brightened things. "What?"

Colleen leaned to Fio like a teenager sharing deep dark secrets with her BFF and whispered, "If he's trying to make me lose faith in Darien, he picked the wrong woman to photograph with him. You're gorgeous, Fionna, but this man has no clue of who you are and that you have more class and respect for your friends than to do what he's implying."

"Thank you," she murmured sincerely. "Not everyone would offer up a vote of confidence like that, I'm certain. But I would never. Just so you hear me say it." She knew what it was to feel doubt in the dead of night, and to grieve.

She reached over to offer a light pat to Fio's hand and murmured back, "Hearing it firsthand is always good."

A close-lipped smile, worry-tinged. "How else can I help" There has to be something I can do. God, how can you stand it' I can hardly bear to have security watching me all the time."

"In light of this," an incline of her head to envelope, "there might be."

"I don't keep up with your council meetings as well as I should, so I might be behind the times." She lowered her voice a bit, "Some places have security systems that record traffic and such. Does Rhydin have anything like that in place?"

She had to think about that. "In places, yes. We've talked about installing a wider net, but I'll ask Ed or Matt to start checking. You need to hire some kind of security in the meantime, Collie. Whoever this is, I haven't noticed them following me and Batten's security shadows haven't either. I don't like it."

"I have a security force, but so did Jack Kennedy." Collie had been wandering around a long time and been to lot of places in her lifetime.

The reference was lost on Fionna. "Someone was taking pictures of him, too?"

"Probably," she explained further, "when I was living on Earth, he was one of the youngest men in a high profile office on an international level. He was assassinated." There was no way to make it easy.

"...Ah." That she could understand.

They discussed a number of things including consulting Ed Batten, who was known for providing public and private security services. Had it not been for those pictures, the chat between the two women would have been lighthearted bantering. When they parted company it was with well wishes as old friends are wont to do.

((Edited from live play. Thank you to Fionna's player! ))

Diana listened and was silent for a while before speaking again. "I'll never understand how you think its fine to armor up a little girl and let her get in the dueling rings, but yet you shielded a grown man from the full truth about his own child."

"Her bein' armored up 'n' in the ring is what saved lives a while later. Happened afore ya were old enough ta know. Someday, ask Rhiannon about how we found Mara wit' the beast what stole LeeAnn's body. 'n' then ask 'er about the people what were supposed ta be guardin' the kids in a bunker when New Camelot was overrun by demons." She pointed out someone in one of the pictures. "Could be Riley Lo in that one. Darien interviewed her enough times. Not ta mention she interviewed us when Judah Bishop died fer the umpteenth time."

"Back's to the camera, what?s the tell?" A dark brow curved upward as she looked over the woman in the picture.

"The shoes," Collie answered. "If it's not 'er, it's a good double since the only other person I know what keeps up that well on high style in shoes li' that is Koy, but that lass is well versed in using 'er shoes as a good weapon in the ring. Gait's a bit different."

She looked over the picture of the possible Riley wannabe. "I'll remember that." Diana frowned as she then studied the picture of Darien and the waitress again. "Something's off about this one." A finger tapped on the corner of the picture. "It'll come to me. Probably after I see the blow ups." Pale blues met blue-greens. "It'll take a while. How fast do you want it done?"

"Important, but not an urgent priority, unless he puts the girls in the pictures. If Maddie, Abby 'r both end up in a picture with this guy's markin's on it, all bets 're off. Maggie turns up in one....same deal." The rest of her grandchildren didn't go to town much, but Maggie was known in the Swords and Magic dueling circles of Rhydin.

Diana laced her long fingers together as she scanned over the photographs on her desk again. "Have Rhiannon teach the munchkin a kill shot," Diana's voice was cold and it was greeted with a questioning look from her mother. "If this guy comes after Mairead, she probably won't get a second chance."

"Haven't seen the lass in a while, 'ave ya?"

"No, not since her birthday. I've been busy working here and at home."

"I know what ta teach 'er. But I need ta make sure she knows it's ta be used very carefully."

Diana grinned. "I remember that move. Worked very well when I was in the Academy." She pressed the issue of notifying Darien. "Mother, are you absolutely certain you don't want him told?"

Diana, how old were ya when I taught ya ta play chess?"

"Mm....eight, was when I started."

"What'd ya learn?"

"That castling and en passant are underused by amateur players." She gave her mother a wink.

"And?"

"And.....I quote, 'The queen, Diana, is arguably the most versatile and powerful piece on the chessboard. She is the only recognizable female piece and has the ability to move as far in any one direction as a player desires. Her primary purpose is the guard the king.'" A wry smile appeared. "Theoretically, one could have nine queens on the board providing they use their pawns well." Diana stared. "That's what you're doing" Playing chess with this nutjob?"

"I wasn't, but now that ya mention it, it's not a bad idea, is it?"

The corners of Diana's lips turned down as she considered that. "I'm going to have Hawk and a small detail watching you whenever you leave the grounds. Especially if you have one of the kids with you." She pointed at her mother. "Until he's caught, I want to know where you're headed and when you're going back. That's the price for my silence with regard to Fenner."

"You drive a hard bargain." Collie was trying not to grin.

"What would you expect' I have you for a mother and a pirating cockpit jockey for a father." Dee pointed at Colleen. "Let's not forget I married a pirate and learned even more from him."

"Despite your protests to the contrary, you always were a good student."

"I keep learning more and more everyday," Diana mused aloud. "Use that bracelet we handed out to you in Orlando, will you?"

"Fair enough." Collie got to her feet. "See ya at Sunday dinner?"

"Yes, and if she's there, I'm going to have a talk with Maggie about a few things." She held up a finger. "Yes, I tell her mother first, so she can edit me if need be."

Collie nodded and turned for the door. "I'm supposin' this detail is in the outer office since I hear 'em carryin' on."

"Right, if they give you any lip, let me know." Diana winked and raised a hand in farewell to her mother. In the back of her mind she was thinking, Not nine queens, but eight and a princess is close.

25 June 2012 - Morning - MacLeod House

Collie yawned and stretched before rising from bed. Just a few more days and Madison's medications would be all done. She showered then put on a dark blue peasant dress and blue shoes. Nicole already had Madison's diaper bag packed including enough medication for a week!

"Mom, honestly, I don't know why you carry a million years of supplies for such a short trip!"

"Just in case, Nikki," said Collie.

"Just in case," echoed Nicole. She put Maddie's plush koala in the bag and took it out to the silver Land Rover in the front driveway. Abby's things would be packed in Nicole's car for the trip to New Haven. She'd drop the baby off with her elder counterpart at the jewelry shop and Colleen would pick Abby up when she was through at Riverview.

"Up with the arms," Collie laughed as she held up one of Abby's arms to put her into a green sundress. She rubbed noses with the baby. "Abby Fenner, this is goin' ta be a whole lot easier when ya can stand up." Abby giggled and laughed as she had a bit of playtime with her mother while Madison dozed. Sunscreen, socks, shoes, and a hat finished off the outfit. Collie carried Abby over to the mirror and twirled around with her once. She tapped the little girl's nose with a fingertip. "Who is that pretty girl, hmm' It's Aaaabbbbby!" She kissed her daughter's little cheek and whispered, "Be a good girl for your sisters. Off you go now." The hand off was made.

After dropping Abby off, Nicole would head off to work. She had new responsibilities that were once her mother's. The family's restaurant was being spruced up and, in time, would have a change of name.

Today was a follow up visit with blood work for Madison. Well baby care for Abby had been three days prior. As usual she was on track for a baby of her age and having been about six weeks premature. At five months old, Madison wasn't quite six lbs. However, the doctors had assured her mother that she would get on a better growth pattern once the treatments were finished. Her little body was under enough strain right now. Collie washed and dressed the tiny girl as she sang Pretty Little Horses. Collie was hopeful that this would be the last blood draw done on Maddie for a long time. She had started to hate the letter combination of ....R, B, and F.

"Well, Maddie, my girl," Colleen said softly as she tucked the receiving blanket around the baby in her tote, "time for us to be off, too!" Madison fussed some but went back to sleep once her mother had gathered her things and started outside. The diaper bag was already in the Land Rover and it wasn't long before mother and child headed into Old Temple for their first stop of the day.

A few hours later - Calypso Command Station

The announcement came over the Rhydin Watch's radio frequency.

Abandoned late model silver Land Rover found in the Old Temple District. We're running the plates. Back door slightly ajar. Reported as parked overtime by a business owner. Thought it might be a car bomb or something. No evidence of a break in. Possible disabled vehicle and or abduction, one infant seat mounted in its frame, the second frame is there, but the seat's gone.

Carla Robinson, better known as the commo queen to the Misfit Squadron, took note of the information. Something about that description set off a warning flag in her head. A quick search of the records revealed one of vehicles owned by Navarra Farms was a silver Rover.

"Fury, this is Calypso Communications Base. There's something here warranting your immediate attention."

"Commo, this is Fury, what?s on the burner" It better be perking, today is already in Day from Hell status."

"Full details not available, but the Watch reports an abandoned silver Land Rover in Old Temple. Door popped slightly, one infant seat present, another was removed. Records show your mother owns one. I would have said coincidence, but two infant seats and one missing" Too much coincidence given her itinerary for today."

"Commo, contact Lasher's and double check the Matriarch's itinerary for last minute deviations we weren't aware of. If you get a negative, contact Riverview, Chief of Staff if you have to. Follow up with Shamrock. We need answers and we need them now. And while you're at it. Get hold of Hawk and his detail. So help me if he dropped the ball on this, I'll have his wings and his balls! Fury out." While her tone was cool, inside, she was living up to her code name.

Shamrock, that was a name Carla hadn't heard in years. It was the Misfit Society code name of the elder Nicole Brock, now a jeweler in New Haven. Precinct Three was contacted with the ownership inquiry and contact information. Watch officers now had a lead and were looking a bit more closely into the incident. Pictures of the scene were sent to Calypso.

Carla contacted Riverview's Security Chief first. Since several incidents were already on file, the verification information present put the communications officer in touch with the specialist that was to have seen Madison for evaluation that day.

"Lt. Robinson, I appreciate your situation, but I'm not allowed to release detailed information on patients without written consent," James Pendleton said as he jotted notes on his day planner. The next words he heard were not from the communications officer, but her CO. His pen stilled. "How long ago?"

"The vehicle was found about thirty minutes ago. We're looking at a potentially disabled vehicle and use of the RTS. What I need to know from you right now, Doctor, is did they make that scheduled appointment or not," Diana asked.

"No, they were due here at three."

"Thank you, Doctor Pendleton. Next question," there was a momentary pause as Diana searched her mind for something, "Madison Fenner is on several medications as you know. According to my sister, Nikki, enough doses for at least four days were in her bag this morning. What happens if that runs out?"

His fingers curled around his pen as he tapped it on the desk. "We were set to put her on another medication to supplement what she was already on, but that was pending lab results. As long as she doesn't relapse, she'll be fine ..."

"But?" Diana queried. It was a small word, but it often spoke volumes.

"But if she has a relapse or her condition can't be controlled for the next few days, we'd have to start over with Series III. That's best case scenario, Commander."

"And the worst case?" Diana steeled herself.

"Worst case scenario is losing the patient."

Diana nodded. She had expected that answer. "Thank you. We'll keep you posted." The next call patched through was from Nicole in New Haven. There was still no sign of Colleen or Madison at what should have been their last stop for the day before going home. On the good side, Abby was safe. Diana headed back to HQ to have a little chat with her wingman and his detail.

From her office, Diana had a good view of the Port and Fool's Luck Bay in the distance. The water was calming and, at the moment, it was what she needed. Her mother and the youngest of her siblings had gone missing. While it was possible that they had been met by Darien in town, he would never have jeopardized Madison's life by keeping them from that appointment.

When the door opened again, it was Hawk's voice that broke the silence. "Right, we can handle that! No problem. How about you two make sure the party gets started while I get my ears and, likely, my ass chewed?" Buzzing came from the outer room coupled with the sound of a door closing. He had brought the coffee in and the video he'd grabbed from Andrews.

"Shut the door," Diana said coolly without lifting her eyes from the photographs in front of her. She'd been over them a dozen times. She was supposed to meet with her mother that evening to review what all had finally gotten to her desk. Enhancements of every block of the photos. It had been just a little bit too late to prevent what had happened.

"What's eating you, Dee?" Hawk looked over his CO with the same pale blue eyes she had.

"Exactly why didn't you pursue, Michael?" The edge in her tone was like a well honed knife.

"They didn't tell you?"

She took a sip from her coffee mug. "I'm asking you."

"I'm not interfering between husband and wife when the man's not a known abuser."

"And if she's a known abuser, what then?"

"Dee, she's not."

"Point is, don't assume and don''t be sexist."

Look, I followed her out of that school Rhiannon runs. Went around the corner after her and saw Fenner holding her by the arm. She looked fine at first then a little light headed. I got there and he said he'd look after her. The only thing I noticed that was odd was that she was just about clinging to the baby. That was it!'

"Did she try to hand off Madison to you?"

"No, if she had, I would have suspected something was wrong from the get go."

Diana's lips pursed. "Take a look at these." Diana slid a photo across the desk. It was one that had been bothering her with Darien and the waitress. Once Hawk had gotten an eyeful, she slid three other photos toward him taken around the same time. Those along with a dozen others that were sectioned blow ups of the originals. "Take a really good look. These were pulled from the restaurant security camera files. The management was pretty cooperative when I told them one of their best customers was being followed by," she cleared her throat, "a dangerous and potentially psychotic individual."

At first, he had that smart alec grin on his face. When he realized just what she was pointing out, his eyes narrowed. "Son of a ...."

The pictures revealed Darien Fenner facing the camera and parked at the counter in a pair of khakis and Oxford shirt. The usual cinnamon toothpick was stuck in his maw. The mirror behind the counter revealed a face in profile, Darien Fenner's face. The figure was in a dimly lit booth and easily missed at first glance. While it wouldn't have been hard to edit the photos, it would have been to get hold of the security images. Diana keyed up another set of images. "Not only was he following Fenner," she pointed out the camera in the doppelganger's shirt pocket, "he's our photographer."

"How long do you think he's been doing this?" Hawk shuffled through the images. "Dee" I'm guessing you've seen the rest of these, but ...." He laid the still shots from the security camera out in time stamped order. "Take a look at our perp." Hawk started to say more, but was hushed when Diana's index finger was raised in a hold up a minute position.

"Call up this time sequence on the DVD, I want to see what this looks like in motion." Diana made awkward gestures with one of her hands as if duplicating a motion in the picture sequence. Her nostrils flared, that was the tell. She had something and was ready to hunt like a bloodhound tracking a scent. "Take it back ten minutes before that picture was taken and let"s see what happens."

They watched from ten minutes back then twenty. What they saw was the face of the man that had been following Darien and had, just hours before, kidnapped his wife and daughter. Diana and Hawk watched the slow motion transformation that was caught on camera. The perp was taunting the reporter; the twisted grin on his face was reflected in the mirrored tiles of the walls behind the booth.

"Was she wearing the life signs band when you saw her?" Diana lifted her gaze to her wingman.

"Yeah, under her watch."

"You tell Carla to track that thing and if she gets so much as a feather bump from it, I want to know."

"I'm on it." He grabbed up his coffee as he headed for the door,. "What's the next move?"

"Making a call to Darien. Setting up a meeting if I can. You just don't text a husband and father to tell him that most of his family was just kidnapped."

"Let hope it doesn't become a condolence call."

Diana nodded. "Dismissed, Jameson," she said curtly.

He said nothing more, his brand of wit would only get him punched.

She steeled herself and finished that coffee before dialing the number. "Darien, it's Diana. We need to meet. Abby's fine," the tone said her mother and Madison weren't." The call had gone to voice mail.

27 June 2012

One of the last things Colleen remembered was seeing Darien's face reflected in the window of the Rover. That brief glimpse was accompanied by a burning sensation in her right arm. The image in the window became that of a man with dirty blonde hair and muddy green eyes. She then saw Michael Jameson's face. She didn't remember bashing the back of her head into the nose of the muddy eyed man. She wanted to hand Madison to Hawk and tell him to run and keep the baby safe. When she couldn't move or speak, she clung to Maddie for dear life. She heard what sounded like Darien telling Hawk that she'd be fine and he'd look after her. Diana's wingman couldn't see what Collie had and took the man for who he appeared to be, her husband.

She had cried out with her thoughts, but Hawk wasn't an adept. Had she been closer to the school Rhiannon might have heard ....or Maggie, who was becoming quite gifted in her own right. The mental calls were too faint and she had no voice.

It was hours later when she finally stirred awake. It took awhile for her to regain her senses. She called for the first person that came to mind, "Dare" Ya here?" She sat up slowly and looked around. Madison was sleeping peacefully in a portable crib. Seeing her baby unharmed, Collie breathed a sigh of relief.

The place was familiar. The scent of lilacs and sounds of street musicians drifted through french doors that led out to a balcony. Collie carefully tucked Madison's blanket around her and kissed her tiny cheek. The view out the doors was a spectacular sunset with Colosseum across the way. Italy' How and when exactly had she gotten there" The last she'd seen Italy was about a year ago. A frown touched her lips. It was the same room where she and Darien had been photographed. The same room where ...

"Coll" You awake?"

It was Darien's voice, wasn't it' After seeing the stranger's face in the window, she was second guessing herself. "Yes, I'm awake," she finally answered. "Maddie's sleeping, though."

"I ordered dinner, won't be anything like your cooking, but it'll do."

Roman Saltimbocca was the light fare on the table for dinner. It was a good thing since dessert was a ricotta cheese tart and Valentino Butussi Chardonnay. Conversation was somewhat uneasy, but what could be expected between a couple that had not parted on comfortable terms"

"You're quiet," he murmured as he sipped his wine.

"What would ya like me ta say?" the hurt in her voice echoed like a call down a canyon.

"That you still love me?"

"Ya know that answer, Darien, I do love you." That unspoken word, but, hung in the air like the Sword of Damocles. "Seven weeks ago, I needed ya and ya left," bitterness more than anger accompanied Collie's words. Whether he was really Darien or not, she needed to let that out. "Oh, I know, I gave ya a choice, but ya could've at least given me the courtesy of a goodbye!" She slammed her fork down on the table and got up just a bit too quickly.

He stood up and steadied her with an arm around her. So that was it, Randy thought. He left without a word. No wonder she's so angry. I need to make this work. Fenner's brat will go first. "Let's get you to bed, you're still tired from the trip."

"I need ta feed Maddie," Collie said sleepily as she was guided to the bed and helped in.

"Don't worry, I'll feed her. Everything's in her bag." He fed the child, despite feeling nothing less than contempt for Fenner and his spawn. As Colleen drifted into sleep, she could have sworn she heard a hateful and cruel voice saying, "Don't worry little princess, after tomorrow your father will see you again, but you will never again see him."

Later that day...

The redhead awoke to feel arms around her. While they were warm, they were far from comforting. Colleen prayed that she had just been having a nightmare and not a premonition, but she knew she had to get Maddie away somehow, there had to be a way. And if a choice had to be made, Colleen would choose to save her child instead of herself.

She carefully loosed herself from the arms that had held her. Despite the face the man wore, Colleen was now certain that he was not her Darien. No matter how angry he had could ever have been at her, never in a dozen lifetimes would he have threatened their daughter. She started rummaging in the drawers and closets, she made a racket enough to waken the man lying in the bed.

"Oy, Oy, what?s the fuss" What are you doing, tearing up the place?"

"I'm lookin' fer my bag. Ya know." She made a squared off gesture with her hands. "Clothes, personal things fer travelin'" 'r did we take this trip intendin' ta buy what we'll need while we're 'ere?" She'd done that before, hadn't she"

"Oh, right." He gestured to the bathroom. "In theah, the one place you didn't rip up."

On a flat counter in the bathroom, she found a train case with some jewelry and cosmetics. "Not much 'ere," she called out.

"Try the closet, will you?" He chuckled.

When she opened the closet, she found a bag that was easily identical to one she'd bought on that second honeymoon trip with Darien. The sizes of clothing and underwear were perfect...It sent a chill down her spine to know he'd paid that close attention to her wardrobe. She startled when she saw his reflection in the mirror as he peeked around the bathroom door. "GAH!" She played it up. "What 're ya tryin' ta do, scare the life outta me?"

He grinned and held his hands up in somewhat defensive gesture. In the body language of Darien, however, it could have been interpreted as "I'll be good. "Not at all. Just want to know if you like what I picked."

"Beautiful, as always." She had to make it look good, so, she kissed his cheek.

"What, just the cheek?" he grumbled.

"I'm still annoyed at you," she said sternly.

She spotted her watch among the jewelry. It still had the lifesigns bracelet attached. Collie needed a reason and fast. "We need ta go out in a while 'n' get diapers fer Maddie. She goes through 'em fast enough."

"Tell you what, there's a shop in the first floor of the hotel. I'm going down to get a paper. I'll get the diapers, too."

"While yer gone, I'll try some o' these on."

"Green suits you best. I'll be back soon." The words were followed by the shutting of the room's main door.

Collie wasted no time in turning on the bracelet's transmitter. The familiar voice of Carla Robinson touched her ears. "This is Calypso Command, how can I help you?"

"This is Colleen Fenner. I need a transport out! I've got no idea where we are 'r whose got us, but he's masqueradin' as Darien!"

"Your signal is very weak, Mrs. Fenner. The most I can guarantee to transport safely is about 10 kilos."

Collie quickly gathered Madison's things and shoved them in the diaper bag. She swaddled the baby and laid her in the bag as well. The velcro closures allowed the band to be wrapped around Maddie's ankles. "Can ya get a readin' now?"

"Yes, roughly 8 kilos including a living being."

"That livin' bein' is m'baby girl. Get 'er out o' 'ere, please!" Collie was pleading, almost begging when she heard the footsteps in the hall. It was too late for Randy Vickers to stop her. The transport beam had carried Madison away to safety just as the door opened..

"You stupid bi...." he muttered just as he remembered her delicate hearing. "Where's our daughter" What'd you do?"

"Ya never wanted children, so I wished 'er away." Collie had a deranged expression on her face. Darien had wanted children, but clearly this man hadn't wanted Madison.

He backhanded her face. Her pale skin bruised. "That's a lie."

"Is it" If ya wanted them, ya ne'er would 'ave left us when we needed ya most."

His mouth flapped open and shut several times like a gaping fish. He couldn't find a rebuttal that journo might have delivered. He took a seat on the balcony to drink a glass of wine.

She's well outta yer reach, now, ya heartless bastard, Collie thought. Whoever ya are.

In the mind of a mad man...

In the mind of a madman things are skewed, twisted, and turned into whatever he wishes to create. Randy Vickers wanted to create a world where Colleen Fenner, no, MacLeod, belonged to him. He could never think of her as belonging to that man. Not anymore than he could think of her as ever having belonged to anyone else. Still in the guise of Darien Fenner, he watched the sunset as the shadows fell into darkness and plotted his next move.

Id been watching her before that fateful day in outside the Red Dragon Inn. A child had run in the street and my horse balked. The animal had tossed me to the ground and ran off. That was when I first met the angel face to face. No, my angel. She was holding onto the reins of the foul beast. It had always hated me as if it could smell the dark magic in me. Under her touch, it was calm. She had gentled the creature so easily. The angel charmed that rogue stallion as easily as she had charmed me. I fell under a spell without her having cast one.

The tale goes deeper than that day in the streets of Rhydin. She barely remembers most of this lifetime, let alone the one that came before. I'm going to remind her of it soon. I have followed her, biding my time until her past memories could be awakened. She was meant to be mine and was given to that accursed son of Zeus, who left her behind in that lifetime as well as this one. That is, perhaps, unfair of me since The Fates took her from all of us in an ironic act given her paternity.

I had considered taking her daughter instead of her. Rhiannon, the child that crossed into womanhood not so very long ago is very like her mother was then. The girl is a tie that binds. That act, however, would knowingly bring Zeus and Poseidon down on my head. Likely that arrogant man child she calls cousin would be a party to my demise as well. That could well be the act to bind the houses of the three brothers. Let us not forget the man who seeks to claim her heart. Elpis the sapphire eyed, whose soul patiently waited to be reborn into a child of the mother who died with her in the womb, is not the gentle creature one might envision. The old ones knew about me and prepared her as well as a daughter of the next generation.

I stole part of what was still hidden away from a time not long after my angel birthed a boy child that was half darkness and half light. The daughter named for a moon goddess came from this find. Oh, yes, I have followed in shadows and watched as they came from what could be. The sisters, the brothers, all of them my angel's children. Not a single one of them is mine as they should have been.

When the Elf left for his homeland, my angel mourned and grieved that ending so much that she said she would never fall in love again or wed again. Her ties were cut with the brothers that had once claimed to be the same man. I bided my time, I saw my chance, but before I could act....that bastard Fenner had somehow broken her defenses and claimed her heart. I'll take her from him. I'll awaken what was and, finally, she will be mine.

It had been a week, and Randy Vickers was still managing to hold himself in the form of Darien Fenner, but it was no easy task. All he dreamed about was keeping Colleen for himself, but so far it was no dice. He'd tried nearly everything in hopes of persuading the reporter's wife to remain with him. He considered love potions, but those were known to backfire in the best of circumstances!

"Watch your step, now," he said as he guided a blindfolded Colleen toward a table. "I think you'll remember this place. First date and such; you know, nostalgia."

"Crickey, where ya takin' me now?" she muttered. When the blindfold was removed, she found herself standing in a private dining room at Lasher's restaurant. He'd painstaking recreated every detail of her first date with Darien or did he"

"So, how was your day, babe?" Vickers managed a nearly perfect Australian accent. He was trying, and a bit too hard, for small talk.

"It was fione, I got some work done and I read fer a while." Something felt wrong about that answer. It was then Colleen realized, they should have been seated in front of the fireplace not in a private dining room. The wine had awakened rather than dulled her senses. Had he gone in bit farther back in her memories to something that was still lost in time, he might have had more success. Their first date, according to the Fenners, had been coffee in the Red Dragon Inn.

"Just fine?" There was a hint of worry in his voice.

"Not a bad thing, ya know," Collie said as she realized the wine should have been Château Cheval Blanc. She remembered thinking it was interesting that Darien had chosen a wine whose name translated to White Horse House! The redhead rubbed her temples just before Randy held out his hand for her to dance. It was the music, The Swan Lake Waltz, that caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise. Darien, the real Darien, would have known the song that she had come to think of as theirs was called The Por Una Cabeza Tango; it was sultry and full of fire. It was about as far from the waltz Randy had chosen as one could get. When the waltz was done, Collie tested waters, doublefold. "So, Darien Sydney Fenner," she paused to let that sink in, "you know very well our first dance was a tango, why'd you choose a waltz?"

He didn't miss a beat with his answer, "I thought I'd change things, you don't like it?" The lowered brow from the lady clearly said she didn't. "You know very well, my middle name's not Sydney!"

She tried not to let her voice reveal that she knew he had caught onto her little test. She grinned wryly. "Of course it's not, it's Andrew. Like you always said, "Your initials spell DAFT minus the T." He thought she was still under his spell, but his smile in response to her answer cracked the illusion. Colleen managed a shy little smile. "I think a walk is in order."

"No!" he protested. "No walking, it's raining!"

"No, but I like walkin' in the rain!? She pouted, giving him the quivering lip face.

Unlike her husband, who only reacted seriously when he knew her feelings were genuinely hurt, Randy wrapped his arms around her and murmured, "I love you and I'll never leave you."

Her eyes narrowed. "But that's where you're wrong," she said in a cold whisper, "he did leave. And I hurt him." That thought given a voice caused her to shudder and choke back a sob. Colleen broke free of his hold and slammed a fist in the center of his chest. His true visage was revealed to her again.

Gasping for air, Randy said, "He was never worthy of you! You can't even remember who you truly are! You're mine! I'm never giving you back!"

"You eedit," she snarled. "He will always have me as long as he has those girls!" The second punch to his gutt incapacitated him long enough for her to escape the mock up of Lasher's. She found a hiding place within the warehouse he had her trapped in. Her magic had been bound somehow like a horse tethered to a hitching post. She needed time to recoup, to rest and regain her strength.

It would take Randy a while to recover, until then he would not have the energy to change form. It would be needed to heal his body. He was plotting just what to do with her next. "I'll find you!" his voice echoed through the warehouse.

There is something amusing about waking up in a three-bedroom, richly furnished, four thousand dollar a night luxury suite and realizing the only thing that belongs to you is the pair of khakis you are sleeping in.

Of all the thoughts to wake up to, that was the first thing that went through Darien Fenner's head. Maybe it had something to do with the way housekeeping had conveniently placed his overnight bag on the partner-style desk, so that when he awoke it was the first thing that happened to be in his line of sight. Of all the places they could have put that sorry suitcase, they chose the desk. Not on the handcrafted Mexican sycamore furnishings in the dining area, or the mother-of-pearl and marble countertops in the private bar. Not on one of the calfskin leather arm chairs in the living room, conveniently turned toward the floor-to-ceiling windows and away from the open bedroom door. Not even in the walk-in closet or in the master bathroom beside one of the rock crystal sinks. No. They chose the desk. The goddamn desk.

Well. Someone just went and cut their tip in half.

He wasn't a snob, but he wasn't ashamed to admit that he liked luxury. Fortune and convenience had never been afforded to him growing up, and now that he had easy access to the niceties in life he took full advantage of them. Darien did not just appreciate or taste the lifestyle; he glutted himself on it. Fast cars. Nice suits. Good scotch. Beautiful women. Or in his case, one beautiful woman. The same beautiful woman who had thoughtfully bought him that overnight bag he was looking at and all of the clothes inside it. All of the clothes, that was, except the khakis he was wearing. Seriously, he was going to kill that fucking housekeeper.

Once out of bed Darien walked to the desk, picked up the suitcase, and carelessly dropped it onto the floor. It hit the carpet dully, some of its contents scattering, and he left it and the room in incensed silence. Automated, fade-up lighting greeted him as he paced into the living room and marched straight for the bar, unsurprised when the digital clock on the wall blinked 12:02 AM at him. By choice, he had lost track of time recently. Was it Monday' Was it August' Did he have to get on a plane and go to Earth tomorrow" He relied on the concierge to tell him these things. Meanwhile, he lapped up the luxury and distracted himself ....starting tonight with a neat glass of 25-year Glenlivet.

The crystal tumbler clacked when he set it on the bar. But when he upended the bottle of scotch and nothing came out, Darien felt something snap inside of him and he hurled the empty bottle into the bedroom. It didn't break, the sturdy thing, only hit the doorframe and landed on the floor. Probably rolling up next to the damn bag, Darien surmised. The pathetic bag filled with undershirts that didn't even belong to him.

He wasn't angry at the bag. He didn't know what the hell he was angry at. He'd done the right thing, and he wasn't sorry. If he couldn't protect his family, if everything he touched turned to poison, then what good was it' If he'd stayed he would only have hurt Collie more. It was just who he was. She deserved so much better than him, and he was fine with that. He could live with himself if it meant she would be happier in the long run.

His Seether's 'Remedy' ringtone suddenly chimed somewhere inside the suite, and it took him an extra second to realize that it wasn't coming from the bedroom, where he'd left his phone in the first place. Well wasn't that wonderful. Housekeeping had placed his bag, which belonged in the closet, beside the bed, and his phone, which belonged beside the bed, somewhere completely random. Boredly he considered other hotels to change to as he followed the music. He could move back to the RhyDin Grand or the Ritz, but he craved a fresh environment. He would have even considered checking into Riley's hotel, if he weren't so positive she would smell him a mile away and claw his eyes out for wanting to sleep on her furniture. Then again, that was as good a reason as any. Pissing Riley off and seeing that vein bulge on her head never failed to amuse him. It was a strange relationship he had with her, but an easy one, where the both of them coexisted under the pretense of comfortably mutual mistrust. And somehow she still had him in her address book and called him now and again, and that amused him even more.

Finally he located the singing little devil, painstakingly plugged in to charge in the kitchen. The one ringing wasn't his personal phone ....that one he had turned off days ago, having tired of the harassing calls and text messages from the rest of Collie's kin. This one he utilized strictly for business, and only gave the number out to important contacts and his editors. If it was ringing, that meant work, and work was a good thing, even at 12:02 AM.

"Fenner," he muttered as he put it to his ear and paced back toward the bedroom. His or not, he needed to put some kind of shirt on if the call meant he needed to head to the spaceport.

"Fenner, it's Mark at the Watch. You asked me to give you a heads-up if anything....came across my desk."

He knew damn well who Mark was. What he didn't know was why Marky boy was having more difficulty getting words out than that constipated Watch broad with scars. "And?"

"And" Have you been following the news?"

An ironic thing to ask a journalist. "Not locally. Not lately."

"We turned up a body. It looks like?" for a second, Mark sounded like he was having a hernia.

"Like what? Spit it out, man."

"Like it's your wife."

A strange buzzing started in Darien's head. "My wife dumped a body?"

Mark paused before replying awkwardly, "Your wife is the body. She was reported missing days ago, and we recently found a body with her characteristics?"

Everything else Mark said fell on deaf ears. Collie had been missing, and he hadn't even known about it' There was no way that was true. Someone would have said something. Someone would have called him, tried to reach him.

Suddenly, it dawned on him. With dread, Darien's eyes swung over to the scattered contents from his bag on the bedroom floor and landed on his personal phone. The personal phone he had turned off.

Riverview Clinic

The ME at Riverview did an initial examination. Further investigation and major procedures were pending notification of spouse, Darien Fenner, and contacts on record, Rhiannon Harker and Diana Kidd, to identify the body. In the meantime, blood was drawn for lab tests. Whatever the ME had to work with was turned over to Bridget Dillon in Forensic Pathology.

Bridget looked over the information print out. On the surface, the death seemed to be a drowning coupled with intoxication or drug use. The deceased looked enough like Colleen MacLeod-Fenner, but something was off. A quick call to the ME's office down the hall produced some interesting results. Bridget muttered in her native Irish then addressed the ME, "The family is coming first thing in the morning, and I need this answer before then." She tapped her long fingers on the desk as she listened. "Look, I've got an elevated Beta HCG on these samples. Fenner's last lab work on an outpatient follow up last month was clean. So we've either got to tell this family they lost two people or it's not her." Silence on Bridget's end followed before she put the receiver down gently on her desk and walked the hall to the ME's office.

"Dillon, you aren't my boss. I don't take orders from you. So, bugger off."

From behind him, the Medical Examiner heard an ever so sultry, "Hello there." She waited for him to turn around before going onward. "Given that Chief of Staff recently lost one of her husbands, do we really want to add the death by homicide of a close friend, and possible family member, onto her shoulders as well?"

The ME considered his choices carefully. There were rumors that Bridie Dillon had killed a few people in her day, but the other choices that she offered, like Mami Tharadon invading his domain, were a fate-worse-than-death, in his opinion. Not to mention that he didn't want to be the next one on any of their lists. Matt set the receiver back down slowly and looked at her evenly. "What do you need me to run?"

"I need you to do a GYN exam. Find out if the cervix is nulliparous or there's a Caesarean scar on the abdomen. Get me those answers and then I'll tell you what I think. We're still waiting on DNA." The only answer from Matt was a nod. "Thanks," she said before heading back to her own lab.

Bridget checked the DNA samples three times to make sure it wasn't a fluke. "I don't frickin' believe this," she muttered. After all this time" Why now...why.... her train of thought was put on pause when she answered a call from a nurse's station asking about test results. It was then that Bridie made a call from a secured cell line.

"This is Fury," Diana said as she answered the phone.

"Fury, this is Redwolf. I need you at Riverview, yesterday."

Redwolf. Diana hadn't heard that since she was a teenager in search of herself. "Bringing back the dead isn't something I'm good at, Dillon. What'd you need?"

Bridie's lips twisted into a wry grin. "I've got three things to say to you. Zoo. GDS. DuBois."

She was silent as she processed those pieces of her past. "How long will you need me? I've got a mission to run."

"Long as it takes to stick you and draw blood unless you want to look over a few things with me. Come down to the basement, Forensics. Avoid the ME," Bridie paused, "he's about as fussy about his place here as you are about yours at the Port."

"Affirmative, ETA, fifteen minutes, Fury out." 00:12 was what the LED on her chronometer said. Plenty of time to get this done and out of the way before muster at oh five hundred. Diana checked in with the front desk since the basement had limited access to the general public. A quick confirmation call to Bridie from the night receptionist was all that was needed before moving along.

When it came down to it, life was measured in minutes.

At 12:06, her daughter cried.

At 12:07, she was dead.

At 12:08, he found her goodbye.

"Dockside," Diana had told him when he asked for her murderer's location. "We traced the transport signal when we got Madison back." She paused. "Third watchtower from the wharf. Meet us at the warehouse there. We don't know what all he's got, yet."

At oh six hundred, they had agreed, and he hung up the phone.

At 12:14, he started his bike.

At one he'd be in Dockside, holding a gun to the bastard's head. By six, when Diana finally arrived, one or both of them would be dead.

There were one thousand, four hundred and forty minutes in a day. People could measure their lives in minutes. But in the end, all that mattered was one.

One was all he needed.

Though there were still several more hours until sunrise, Darien found the warehouse Diana had been referring to with little difficulty. There were half a dozen of them in Dockside, most used as interim storage areas since the wharf on this side of RhyDin had hardly the capacity or berth to keep up with the unloading and reloading before new ships or fresh merchandise arrived. That much he had learned in the past six months; as part of a pet project while he engrossed himself in work, Darien had been keeping his eye on a handful of disreputable vessels that had arrived in RhyDin recently. Long nights of watching and waiting for those vessels beside barrels of stinking fish had made him an expert on the port's layout, which meant that he not only knew exactly which building Diana's crew identified, but he knew exactly what was being kept inside it. Building materials, he believed. Regrettably the knowledge didn't help him beyond that. Lumber warehouses were labyrinths, and if it was shut down for the night, he would have a hard time navigating the construction without night vision goggles.

Detection could have been somewhat avoidable, but even with the modifications Darien had made on the engine and muffler his Suzuki still growled every time he accelerated. Even with the clamor of voices and freight from the docks it was still too loud, so he opted to leave it parked half a block away. The caution he was effecting almost amazed him. Despite his cold-blooded purpose his head remained remarkably clear, strategically plotting his next action as he reached the door on the south side of the warehouse. If he hadn't become a journalist, he would have made a good detective. But then that would put him in the same circle as Alain DeMuer, and that thought alone practically had him grabbing his gut to keep from laughing.

When jiggling the handle did not persuade the door, Darien reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a wallet-sized kit. He unfolded the leather, fingers having long since memorized the tools secured there in elastic loops, and effortlessly freed a miniature flashlight, which he lit and rested in his mouth while he selected a pair of steel picks that would serve well to spring that lock. Once both picks were inserted cleanly and held in place with one hand, he let the flashlight drop into his other and turned it off, relying on touch to coax the lock open. Torch safely back in his pocket, Darien manipulated the tools, pausing when he hit resistance. He was no thief and by no means had perfected the art, but after he reminded himself to treat the mechanism delicately, he heard it shift.

Pocketing the kit again, he took the knob and turned, wincing as the door whined in protest when he opened it. Reflexively he reached under his arm where he'd strapped the semi-automatic pistol, and tugged it free as he let himself in. It was pitch black inside, and for all Darien knew the place was cluttered with Neo-Nazi paraphernalia, skin suits, and moths. He kept his shoulder to something hard, a pallet rack, it felt like and pressed onward. Was he walking in circles" Was he about to plunge into a well" All that he was aware of was the sound of his breathing and the rapidly warming grip of his Beretta.

"You stupid bastard! You ruined everything!"

The shout made Darien halt in his tracks, trying to detect from which direction it came. It wasn't muffled, but it wasn't echoed either, and that told him' Absolutely nothing. He wasn't a goddamn bat.

"You never deserved her," the voice continued, getting closer. "She was perfect, perfect, and you ruined her!"

Darien felt his jaw tighten. "Quit hidin', you piece of shit," he muttered. He reached empty space and stumbled, spinning in disoriented circles to try and find some surface to guide himself again.

"Her skin was so soft. She pretended to be afraid, but I knew she wanted it. She felt so much better than I could possibly have imagined."

He thought it was white-hot rage that blinded him, but it was a floodlight perched behind a tower of structurally racked pallets, suddenly blazing to life. It took too many seconds for his eyes to adjust, and before Darien could react something hit him powerfully from behind and knocked him over, sending his pistol sliding somewhere beyond his reach. His vision blurred as he squinted against the brightness and rolled onto his back, only to feel something hard connect with his jaw. His head hit concrete, acute pain radiating across his skull. Blinded, this time by colors blinking behind his eyes, Darien could only kick futilely as he was pinned down and his hair was used as a hold to crack his skull repeatedly on the ground like a stubborn egg. Before it hit a third time he managed to bring his knee up, unbalancing his assailant enough to make him lose his grip and slide forward. Taking advantage, Darien wedged his elbow between them and plowed hard, waiting for a yelp as he drove into that cluster of nerves at the solar plexus before he slammed his head forward again to collide with his assailant's skull. Finally he was free, and he hastily looked and felt around for his weapon among the lifts and vertical carousels while his assailant rolled over and recovered. He discovered it at last underneath a storage rack laden with uncut timber.

"Just die!" the other man yelled. Darien grabbed the gun and staggered to his feet, fighting the urge to lose consciousness as he turned and faced the sick bastard who had killed Collie.

It was" him. Was he looking at a mirror" Whoever it was, it was someone with his exact likeness, save for the fresh blood pouring out of his nose.

"What the fuck?" Darien rasped, truly at a loss for words as he took aim at the doppleganger's head.

His copy sneered. "Disgusting, isn't it" I never understood what she saw in you. You wasted everything she is?"

"Shut up."

"She was mine. Mine! And you took her from me and used her like one of your whores!"

"I said shut th'fuck up!" Darien roared, surging forward and grinding the barrel into his copy's forehead.

"She was mine, the minute you walked away. She was mine, and you were too busy wallowing in the bottles and the company of pretty women to see it." Bloodied though it was, the man's smile was eerily familiar. "She'll never be yours again. She's my angel now."

Most people didn't live to see a bullet go through their head. Darien did. He saw several of them, even after Collie's killer fell back against concrete and his likeness shifted again. Darien held the trigger down, watching as flesh and bone exploded and holes were punched in the stalker's face until it was completely unrecognizable. Even when the clip had emptied Darien continued to hold down the trigger, staring vacantly ahead.

No motivating thought could make him move. What did he expect' Satisfaction' Resolution' Society liked to teach that death was final, but there was absolutely nothing final about this. It was a full fucking circle, ending exactly where it began. He had lost her; he couldn't save her, and once again he was stuck with himself, with only himself, which was exactly the way it always had been.

"Darien...?" It was followed by the whispering of his first and middle names combined. It was her voice. He'd heard it before, and he knew he would hear it again. It would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"Dare..." It was so vivid, but it wasn't real. It would never be real again.

The hand, however, on his shoulder was.

The room became a series of pictures as Darien turned slowly, frame by frame, as if in slow motion. Her eyes. Her hair. Her lips. He'd seen them before, but they couldn't be. She couldn't be. She was gone.

That familiar blue-green gaze awash with bewilderment, Collie stared between him and the body on the floor, her eyes wide. When she swayed, Darien reached for her elbows and steadied her.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his mouth dry. "I....thought you were dead."

Collie's eyes lifted to meet his again, hollow and full of questions. But before she could ask them, Darien had to be sure. He lifted his hand up, numb fingers feeling for the softness of her cheek. Immediately they curled around it to the back of her head, and before he knew it Darien was crushing her body against his. His face pressed against hers, feeling the feather light touch of her hair against his brow. Her warm, shuddering breath in his ear. She was alive. Collie was alive.

When Darien felt his cheek become wet, he held her tighter. "Don't cry," he whispered.

Collie's arms finally slid around his waist. She reached up to caress his cheek.

"I'm not," she whispered.

Darien returned with a tall glass of OJ, setting it in front of her before taking a seat at her nine o'clock. He didn't have a plate, but he did have a baby monitor and a glass that he drank from, full of what looked like diluted flat cola. He set both on the table. "Sleep ar'roight?"

"Och, I slept quite well." She reached over and brushed her fingers over his hand.

Slept well was an understatement. It was the first time in months that her sleep had been peaceful. The extra time in the hospital for Colleen and the girls coupled with the extended periods of work away for Darien had caused them to grow apart. The now dead man that had hounded them for two years had been the catalyst for much of it. What would Darien have done if he knew how much his wife had needed to be reminded of how it felt to be desired and loved by the man she'd chosen instead of being taken by force by a man who claimed to have that right' The previous night those fears were a distant shadow when words and passionate desires that had been dormant were finally set free in the night.

When you think you have lost something you treasure, no matter how much you've taken it for granted, it becomes precious again.

"Thank ya. The wake up was rough fer a bit, but it improved." Collie's brows furrowed as she looked at what he was drinking. "What is that, cold coffee in a glass?"

Darien gave her a tight smile and slid the glass out of sight, behind a trio of jam jars. He eyed the baby monitor. "Madison looks like she's doin' bett'a. Got those cherub cheeks now."

"Mmmm I expect she's got some catchin' up ta do now. The doctors said once she was off the medicines that they expected 'er ta start growin' again." Collie hadn't missed that bit with the glass. "Dare," she whispered, "what is it?"

He was quiet for a long time, then seemed to force himself to look at her, his gaze hooded. "Are you hurt?" His voice had aged ten years in ten seconds.

It was her turn to be quiet. When she finally spoke it was in whispers to keep her voice from breaking up. "He did ....things I'd rather ferget, but might not be able ta," she admitted. "At least not fer a long while." She wanted to forget the man that had worn her husband's face as a mask to tempt her. Collie wanted to erase from her mind seeing the faceless dead body. She wanted to forget waking from a drugged stupor to find that nameless man on top of her and invading her already aching body. Mostly, she wanted to shut the door on the brief moments when the hallucinogens made her believe that it was Darien that had been holding her. She felt disgusted and guilt ridden because of them. Yet, she didn't want to forget Darien's face when he realized that she was alive or that it was him who had come for her when she needed him most.

At her admission, Darien hunched over in his chair and put his elbows on his knees, gripping his head so roughly his knuckles whitened and tufts of hair stuck out between his fingers. He didn"' speak, but she could hear him dragging in heavy, uneven breaths.

"He's not comin' after us again," she murmured reassuringly, sensing his torment, "ya made sure o' that." Collie took a few slow ragged breaths and stood. "I'm sorry ....I should've been more careful. I..." A shaking hand rested on his shoulder. "Maybe ya'd be better off if it 'ad been me that 'e drowned." She had watched in a dreamlike state as her own doppleganger died, and even then it seemed unreal. Drawing her hand away she eyed the liquor cabinet near the fridge. She could do with a few stiff belts about now.

Before Collie could pull her hand away, Darien snatched her wrist and gripped it firmly. Painfully. " 'Ow can you possibly blame yourself?" he hissed, his eyes filled with outrage.

She still had rope burns on her wrists and his hard grip over them caused her to grimace. Her voice was rough, "Yer right, ya know." He still had hold of her, but she was able to crouch down to eye level with him. "Neither o' us asked fer what 'e did. The only one at fault was 'im."

"No," Darien gently released her, his jaw tight. "He wasn't the only one." As his gaze bore into her, it softened but a moment. Then the mask was up again. "Don't ev'a blame yourself. Never," he snapped.

"Darien," Collie gently cupped his jaw in her hands, studied his face, and whispered, "if I had put my pride aside 'n' told ya the truth. Told ya how much I needed ya ....ya might not 'ave gone. 'n' that," she tipped her head to kiss his forehead, "is the blame I carry."

He took her hands and lowered them. "I knew...," he said evenly. "I knew, and I left anyway. Coll?" He drew in breath to speak. When he regarded her, though, his expression ghosted fleetingly with defeat. "I can't stay. I'm no good for you."

She swallowed hard when she heard those words. They hurt, but somewhere past those words was the truth. She knew it. Not good for her" How could he say such things! Despite all that had happened, she still remembered just how good he was for her. "That's a lie. If ya were no good fer me ya would 'ave left me ta my fate 'n' not bothered ta come fer me" 'r seek retribution fer m'death, whatever the case might 'ave been." When he tore his gaze away again, she whispered, "Look at me."

He didn't, but he did bring her wrists into his line of sight, studying her rope burns. Memorizing them. "I'm going to hurt you, Collie..." he murmured, but it sounded more like a warning. Even as he did he pulled her in, burying his face in her neck and crushing her against him.

She felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes when he held her close. Thankfully, he couldn't see that. The words came slowly, far too quietly. "After Ithil left, I promised myself that I would never let anyone in again. That I'd never let myself fall in love again. That....I'd never marry again. And there you were ....breakin' down every wall I'd ever built around me."

Darien let out a tortured breath against her ear, clutching at her robe, prying it off her bare shoulders. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his apology strained. He knew he had to stop, but he was fighting himself again - he couldn't bring himself to let her go, to stop kissing the slope of her neck or wrench his hands from her body. "I'm sorry."

Collie fought that hateful streak of pride that often reared its head. There was a part of her that wanted to tell him to go ahead and leave, that she wouldn't be there if he changed his mind. Maybe even tempted her to tell him to go straight across the Styx. The rest, however, the part that slammed two thoughts above the others, I love him and What is he afraid of? didn't want to let go of him. "Darien Michael Fenner," there it was, it had to come out sooner or later, but it was spoken gently, almost sadly, "the only thing ya ought ta be sorry fer is pushin' away those people that care about ya. Especially the woman what loves ya."

"You don't know anything." Where she started to answer him, she was silenced with a ruthless kiss, her husband's fingers blindly knotting in her hair as he covered her mouth with his. He pulled her against him with wanton need until he finally slid off the chair and onto the floor, weighing his body over hers as he loved her with his hands. Consciously Collie had to remind herself that it was Darien on top of her. She trembled beneath him. Her heart said yes, her body said yes, but her head was fighting a recent memory. She wrapped her arms around his chest, and when the kiss broke at least long enough for her to breathe, the breath she took was shaky.

"Darien," she began quietly.

"Collie?" he interrupted, then blew out a sigh. "You need t'rest," he said, sliding one arm beneath her knees to lift her up effortlessly.

Despite that one question that she really wanted to ask ....she just nodded. She did need to rest, but she wondered if her sleep would be as peaceful as it had been the night before.

((Co-written with the player of Darien Fenner. Thank you! Due to formatting issues the Irish words were stripped of the specialty characters Daideo - Irish term of endearment for Grandfather A stoirin is Irish for my little darling.))