Coming Home

Heidi McKeon ©1996

I've found you a thousand times, I guess you've done the same
But then we lose each other, it's just like a children's game
But as I find you here again, the thought rolls through my mind
Our love is like a circle, let's go 'round one more time.
--Harry Chapin

Vienna 2100

The twenty-second century, amazing the changes she'd seen in the 1665 years since she first appeared on this earth. She was now in Vienna, using a name she'd used only twice before, Fiona Roisin, her own real name. She'd come to Vienna for the art and the music that the old city still held and it was a perfect place to start anew yet again. Brigid Gonne had left Ireland in 2076 once the details of their freedom were cemented. She'd traveled for the past 24 years, not staying too long in one place. She was looking for someplace that felt comfortable and hadn't been able to find it until now. Maybe it was the oldness of the city and her familiarity with it or maybe it was that she was seeking something and had yet to find it. She was ready to put down roots again. But she couldn't go back to Ireland, not yet. The people were still singing the praises of the two women who led both Ireland and Scotland to victory. Vienna was as good as place as any until she was ready to give into her homesickness for Ireland and return to her cottage on the cliffs of Dingle Peninsula. She had been in town about a month now, setting up her new home, and her studio and school. She was going to be teaching some of the old techniques in pottery and fiber arts, and teaching others to teach it as well. She already had two women who were excellent with the pottery and a man, Jeffrey, who was talented beyond anything Fiona had seen in the last thousand years on a loom. She had leased the building that would house both the studio and her own home. It was in the historic section of town, which looked much as it did in the twentieth century. The owners of the building worked hard to keep that old charm in an age of technology and strange architecture.

The night was cool and clear; it was the summer solstice-- Methos's birthday, she remembered. She wondered where her old friend was now. It had been four years since his very public assassination in Krakov, and no one had seen or heard from him since then, not even Duncan, whom she figured he would have tried to go see. Fiona herself hadn't seen him since 2073 after the fall of York. She decided to walk along the boulevard near the Danube where small clubs marked the passage of the blocks. Music poured out the doors, giving the passersby a sample of what each interior held. Fiona heard the strains of a saxophone coming from one place. She paused to listen as it brought back memories. The melody was vaguely familiar but she couldn't place it at first. She remained outside as the music washed over her. Suddenly she recognized it... It was something Joe had written while they were together. Who could be playing Joe's music? The billboard only said the musician was Nick Dawson, but there was no picture. As she entered the tavern and moved through the crowd to see the musician close up, she felt the presence of another immortal, distinct and familiar. Methos. The man looked up from his playing to see her walk in.... The music faltered for a moment before continuing. Fiona moved to the bar, and ordered a glass of wine. Turning her back to the stage, she pulled up barstool and sat down to listen. He'd seen her and now played more of the music she knew as well as she knew the man who played it. Joe's music. It was different to hear it being played solely on the sax, instead of the guitar that had been so much a part of her life with Joe, but the music was still very familiar. Fiona was surprised to see him in such a public setting; it went so much against his character. He always preferred to remain in the background, while she was the one who liked to be out with the people. Soon he ended his session and moved toward her, but he was stopped along the way... complimented by the patrons. His only goal though was to reach the woman waiting for him at the bar.

"Fiona," he said, quietly.

The crowd gathered around him once again, young woman trying to get his attention. They'd watched him play and now waited to make their move, each one vying to be the one he might pick to take home. He ignored all of them. He had eyes only for the woman he'd know for more than a thousand years.

She let him suffer a moment longer before she pushed her way through the young women who crowded around him and walked into his waiting embrace. Without a word he claimed her mouth for a life-confirming kiss. They were alive and together again for the moment. Both their pasts were momentarily forgotten.

"Hello, Old Man", she whispered when they finally broke the kiss. "Oh, Irish, it's so good to see you", he told her as he pulled her close again.

The others watched, wondering who this woman was who showed up and made definite claim on the man they had been listening to and talking with for months. How dare she come and claim him, they thought.

"How soon can you leave?" she asked, as she ran her fingers through the thick long hair she remembered well and loved.

"Now. Just let me get the sax". He returned to the small stage and put away his instrument. Returning to her and wrapping an arm around her small waist, he guided her out the door.

They walked through the crowds and into a nearby park. Together they chose a bench away from the light so they could see the stars. Fiona snuggled in closer to him, absorbing the warmth his body gave. She felt chilly from the cool evening air. Methos wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer as they sat in silence. Neither knowing what to say first so they just sat quietly looking at the stars, both happy with the feeling of being in each others arms. Finally Fiona smiled and sat upright. "You know old man, I almost forgot. Happy Birthday," she said, laughing, before she kissed him.

He pulled her closer and just held her. "It's been so long since there has been some one to wish me a happy birthday. Thank....you...... " his voice catching on the last of his words. She just held him as he tried to regain his composure. She knew he hated it when he showed what he considered weakness. But she also knew that the last fifty years or so had brought him so much sorrow that if he didn't release it some time it would kill him.

"You know it's OK to let those feelings out," she said at last. "You know me too well, but I fear that if I were to start now I would drown," his voice sounded muffled as he spoke into her shoulder. Lifting his head to look at her he continued, "You know, my greatest regret is that I lost her friendship. I miss that most, Fee."

"I know you do and sooner or later something will cause you and Sarah to come together again." She said touching his cheek. "This life we lead, you and I and Sarah, it's a circle. We keep leaving and coming back to each other, over and over again. I suppose we will always do it, it's in our blood our nature."

He leaned into her caress and replied, "Do you really think so? About Sarah, that is, not about the circles our lives run in." "Yes, I do," she reassured him, "Now, enough of this soul searching, it's your birthday, so let's get piss drunk and make love all night and day. Just how old are you, anyway?" she asked, as she stood and pulled him along with her. "Damned if I know for sure," he said laughing.

They headed back towards the river and all the pubs there, and proceeded to hit every one that remained open, toasting drinks to birthdays, friendship and lost loves. Finally they stumbled out of the last place and headed back to her place. It was the closer one of the two, and somehow they managed to climb the three flights of stairs to her loft. They promptly fell into bed as soon as they could strip their clothes off. Making love was not an option at the moment, they were both to drunk and tired to even remember it.

Methos woke first as the light streamed in through the half open blinds. Fee was curled next to him, her head cradled in his shoulder. As he looked over at her, he realized just how much he really did love this woman. She'd been a friend, a lover, a wife, and she never faltered in her belief that one would always be there when the other needed them. She had been too, several times, as he had been there for her many times in the now more than a thousand years since their first meeting.

Fiona shifted in her sleep and ran a hand down his body. He reacted instantly to her touch. It had been so long since he'd allowed himself to feel. Losing Sarie had taken the light from his life, and maybe now Fiona could help put it back, she'd always been there in the past when he needed her. Regardless if she were involved with someone else or not.

He turned slightly, so he could look at her. She still stirred him as much as when they first met. Running his hand down her side from shoulder to hip. Teasing her. She woke to his touch and moved into it smiling. He always did know how to push her buttons, she thought. Fiona returned his caresses, turning it sexual instantly. They came together rapidly like two starving people, each fueling the others passions, until they were left drained and sated. They slept again, only to waken several hours later to make love a second time, this time with the tenderness that spoke of the years of friendship and love.

The day was nearly over when he woke again. Not wanting to disturb Fiona, he slowly untangled his arms and legs from hers and stole out of the bed. He pulled one of the sheets and wrapping it around himself he moved to sit in the window. He watched the people move about on the street, some on their way home from work, others heading out for the evening. One couple in particular caught his eye, reminding him of another time and another window three years ago.

Lindau, Germany 2097

He wasn't sure coming here to Lindau was such a good idea. Far too many memories haunted this place. Methos checked into a small bed and breakfast, his room had a wonderful view of the stone lion that looked out over the entrance to the city by way of the harbor. He smiled. Seeing the lion reminded him of Sarah, her strength was that of a lion. He wondered how she was. It had been a long time since he had heard anything about her, but he couldn't, wouldn't think of her, not right now. Later when he was suitably drunk, he would remember, but not just yet. Now all he wanted to do was get settled and see the city.

He roamed around the ancient city, marveling at how even now when the world was glass and steel, this place still kept its charm. It was late in the evening when he returned to his room. His last stop for the day had been to a tavern for dinner and then at a liquor store for a bottle of scotch. He poured his first glass and moved to sit in the window and watch the people as they moved about. The night was aglow from the lanterns that lit the streets. Horse drawn carriages still rolled down the streets giving tourists a romantic ride. One such carriage was stopping now near where the passengers could walk out the break wall to get to the lion. Methos watched them with a sinking feeling, those passengers were just too familiar. No, it couldn't be, Sarah and Connor. His Sarie.

He watched them as they moved away from the carriage to stand on the breakwall before they moved toward the lion. She stood looking out over the harbor, oddly still in her stance. She looked as if she were remembering the past as well. God, she looked beautiful, her hair was longer, blonder than it had been when they were together. Connor must have felt the same as he was feeling now for he pulled Sarah into his arms, kissing her. Methos watched as they embraced, feeling his heart sink. They were together now, that much was obvious. She had moved on. It was time for him to as well. He would always love her, but he knew that it was time stop hoping for the impossible and to get on with his life. He sat in the window for a while longer before going in search of that bottle of scotch.

Waking to an empty bed, Fiona looked around and saw Methos sitting in the window. She could tell by the way he was staring, that he was off in another time and place. She walked up behind him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder so he would not be startled when she spoke. "Hey there, you still with me?" she asked as she sat behind him on the window seat.

"Huh? Oh yes. I'm still here, just thinking."

"About Sarah?" She asked as she ran her hands down his arms, feeling the firm muscles.

"How did you guess?" he asked her, smiling. "It's your birthday. You always get reflective on your birthday." She said, wrapping her arms around him, "Want to talk about it?"

"What's there to talk about? It's over. I know that now. If I hadn't accepted it before, I finally did three years ago in Lindau, when I saw her and Connor together," he told her, leaning back in her arms, his voice thick with emotion.

"I know," was all she said.

"You knew!" He said surprised, turning in her arms to face her.

"I got a letter from her a couple a years ago and she mentioned Connor a few too many times for there not to be something more serious between them. Although she never came right out and said it, I guessed." She told Methos as she pulled him close, his head resting on her chest. "You and she corresponded? I never would have guessed."

"It's not like we're pen pals or anything, but we would occasionally drop a letter to one another by way of our individual solicitor's firms, just to keep in touch and let the other know we were still alive. We went through a lot together during the Gaelic Rebellion not to at least stay in touch." she told him.

They sat like that for a while before he raised his head and looked at her. She was a part of him, so much so that he often wondered if she could read his mind. He loved her, always had, in one way or another, and always would. They could love others, but the silken tie that bound them together would always be there, even if just in friendship. He wondered if she knew just how much she meant to him. "Fee, about last night....I just wanted you to know....it wasn't Sarie.....it was you, only you." "I know." "I just wanted you to know it wasn't like that it was all those years ago in York." "I know, my friend...my love. Last night was just us...no ghosts." He knew she was also telling him that last night was just for him as well, that she had finally put her grief over Joe's death in it's place. Thinking of Joe made him smile and he chuckled a little. "What?" she asked, as she felt the vibrations of his laugh.

"I was just thinking of Joe, and wondering what he would think of us coming back together again." "He'd be happy," she mused, "happy, that the two of the people he loved most were finding love again after suffering the losses we have. He loved Sarah but I think he always wanted us together in the end."

"Is that what we are doing? Finding love again?" he asked. "Finding new, regaining the old? Who knows? It's the circle of our lives and only time will tell." "Fee, can I ask a question about you and Joe? I wanted to ask this years ago, but I didn't want to pry when you were hurting so much." "You want to know the real reason why Joe and I never got married. Don't you?" "Yes. Was it because of me? Sarah thought that it was." "She asked me about it all those years ago in London. I told her no then, but it wasn't entirely the truth." She said.

Methos turned to look at her, startled, at her comment. Fiona was never one to be other than honest. "Don't get me wrong. I loved Joe with all my heart and I would have married him. He was the only man who filled my life with so much unconditional love and laughter, since you and I were together. Deep down, you are my one true love," she told him. "Fee...." he started. "Shhhh, don't say anything, you don't have to. I didn't tell you this because I want more than you could give, I told you because I wanted you to know how I felt. You and Sarie were great together, I know how much you loved her, and what it did to you when you lost her. I guess I told you because I wanted you to know that my love for you is constant and will always will be, no matter what." Methos couldn't believe what he was hearing. This woman who had been his lover, his friend and his wife still loved him as much as she did back in Ireland when they first came together and as much as when they married. She astounded him at times. She always seemed to know just what to say, and how to say it, but when it came to her own feelings she was like him and kept them locked away, for no one but those closest to her to see, if even then. He pulled her close, burying her head in his chest and held her until he could find the words to tell her how he felt--if he even knew himself.

Fiona looked up finally and saw his uncertainty, "Hey, old man, I'm not asking you for vows of undying love here, just know I'll always be here for you." He shook his head and asked, "What if I'm ready to give those vows? What if I want a future with you?"

Fiona was startled. This was not what she expected. She waited a few minutes then she smiled and replied, "Methos, do you know what you're saying?" "Yes, Irish, I do, I know that I have missed you in my life. I don't like the idea of going 25 years at a time with out seeing you, and most important of all I miss our love. I know it wasn't always a bed of roses for us mainly because of me and my stupidity, but the last 50 years, hell, the last 400 years have taught me a lot and I want to be a part of the world around me, and share it with you. Hell, I'll even think about getting on the damn boat of yours in Ireland." Methos confessed to her.

Fiona smiled, she knew he must have been doing some serious soul searching since she last saw him for him to even say he would think about getting on The Brigid. He hated the water. "What do you say?" he asked tentatively. "I say we take it one day at a time and see where we end up. But right now I want to go back to bed." She laughed.

He pulled her into his arms and carried her back to bed. The sheet that he'd loosely wrapped around him dropped to the floor forgotten. Laying her down on the bed he proceeded to show her how much she meant to him.

They spent the summer and part of the fall doing what normal mortal couples do, dating. They would go to dinner, the theater, picnics in the park, etc. Just to spend time together, getting to know each other. Fiona would sit in the Pub as he played, fending off the young women who made passes at him, and he in turn would either sit and read or play the sax while she was at the loom or the potters wheel. Fiona's gallery and school were taking off by leaps and bounds. Her three best students were now starting to take over for her. Jeffrey even showed her some new techniques he was discovering with on the loom. This left Fiona and Methos with more time to spend together. Fiona's homesickness for Ireland was growing every day, she really missed her home. Methos offered to take a trip over and see just how much they remembered of Brigid Gonne. He returned a few days later with good news. The Irish still remembered and celebrated Brigid Gonne, but Fiona's picture was no longer plastered all over Ireland. Methos also had her ketch, 'The Brighid', brought out of storage and prepared for her arrival, while he was there. He was planning to send her to Ireland as soon as he returned to Vienna. She was desperate to return to her home and he knew she wouldn't be completely happy until she'd walked along her beloved cliffs. He knew she would want to go sailing before the weather turned for the winter, she had a connection to the ocean, that he barely understood but he accepted even though he himself hated the water.

~~~~~

Fiona sat on her ketch as the cold fall wind whipped around her. She was now near the cliffs that she called home. Even though she'd been in Ireland for the Rebellion she'd never come back to Dingle and her home. She'd run from there over sixty years ago when Joe died and had never been back since. Fiona had always been able to help others deal with their grief but she had a difficult time when it came to dealing with her own emotions. Joe had been her life for so long and his loss left her empty and alone. She didn't know how to deal with that feeling so she left, running away from her grief. She thought at the time it would be easier, but she was wrong, it only stretched the pain out, making it harder for her to heal.

She wanted to come out on The Brighid first, before going to her cottage. Going out on the boat gave her a chance to deal with some easier memories before she was faced with the bulk of them. The cottage held so many of those memories from the first time she brought Joe there for his 55th birthday in 2003 till his death in 2042. She hadn't been there since just after Joe's funeral, and, forasmuch as she was homesick, she knew it was also going to be rough. At least now she could look back on her memories of being on the ketch with Joe and smile at all the love and happiness they shared there. The captain Methos hired to handle the ketch, thought she was crazy for taking the boat out this time a year, the seas were rough and the winds strong, catching the sails and pushing them along the rough waters. She could almost hear the song of the sirens as she sailed along the cliffs, imagining Joe's deep voice singing along with them as well.

When she had made her peace with her memories of being on the ketch she directed the captain to return to port. Joe had given her the boat for one of their anniversaries, insisting it be named after the Irish Goddess, Brighid, in honor of her ancient Irish heritage. He'd researched the goddess and found that she was the goddess of poetic inspiration and therapy, not to mention that the filid were under her inspiration. Joe figured the symbolism also stood for who Fiona was so calling her boat Brighid was a natural choice.

Now she could go on to the cottage, and make her peace with the memories there. The cottage would be the hardest part. She'd left suddenly taking only what she needed, leaving the rest to be closed up by the caretakers. Fiona was sure that she would be assaulted with more memories when faced with all of Joe's belongings.

It was a slow drive from the harbor to the cottage. She looked at the surrounding countryside, thinking how little things had changed over the centuries. The fields were still filled with sheep grazing and the cottages all looked as they did centuries ago. Her cottage was a newer version of the old style, Fiona like light so she built a new cottage near where the old one stood for centuries. When she arrived at the cottage she found that it had been cleaned and aired out. Methos, she smiled at the thought, he must have contacted the family who cared for the property and had it opened for her. Was there anything he hadn't thought of doing? Walking around her home she was taken back to the times when she and Joe lived here. The hardest to face would be the music room and oddly enough the main room in front of the fireplace.

Joe laughed as she fought with the weeds that had crept into her garden while they were gone.

"Fee, honey, you have all day tomorrow to do that. Come in now."

"Oh, your right, but you know how I am about my garden," she told him.

"Yes, I do, but you're not going to get anywhere tonight you're tired and can barely see," he told her.

Joe knew it wouldn't be long before she was sound asleep. They had spent the past week on the boat, and had just gotten home an hour ago. He fixed a couple of steaks and some potatoes for their dinner while she went to inspect what a week of neglect had done to her flowers and vegetables. The woman was obsessed. There was no doubt about it. In the winter she potted everything she could and turned their music room into an indoor garden. Joe put his foot down at the greenhouse idea, saying he wanted to be able to have room for their instruments. He knew her and she would fill the room up leaving no room for them.

Joe and Fiona sat on the patio and ate their dinner. While Fiona cleared the dishes away Joe lit a fire to take off the chill of the evening. Fee met Joe by the fireplace as he put another couple logs on.

"Go get comfortable and come back, " she told him.

Joe headed toward the bedroom and reappeared several minutes later in his wheel chair with his robe on. Levering himself to the sofa he laid back as Fiona massaged his thighs to ease the tension of the days stress on his legs. This was a ritual with them now, and more often than not led to other activities. Joe knew tonight, however, Fiona would just want to lie in his arms and sleep. She needed this. He knew how exhausted she must be because he was tired himself.

As Fiona curled into his arms she traced circles on his chest, making paths in the graying hair. Soon her circles slowed and then stopped. He could tell by her breathing she'd fallen asleep. He pulled the old quilt she kept over the back of the sofa over them and settled in for the night. The fire crackling soon lulled him to sleep.

Fiona woke as the sun was just rising. She smiled as she remembered where they were. Another night on the sofa; this was becoming a habit with them. They would either just fall asleep as they had last night or end up staying there after making love, to comfortable too move. Fiona lay watching him as he slept, and thought about how wonderful it felt to be in his arms. She loved him, more than she ever conceived possible, and as he aged without her, she knew she loved him even more.

Lost in her thoughts she didn't notice Joe had woken up and was now watching her. "What are you thinking about?"

Fiona smiled at him before answering, "I was just thinking about how much I love you and how happy I am."

Joe pulled her onto his chest and claimed a kiss, before even thinking about answering. "I love you too, my beautiful, wild Irish lady."

Fiona stood looking at the sofa before she summoned the courage to bring in her bags. When she finally picked them up, she carried them to the master bedroom, almost turning and heading to one of the guest rooms. She couldn't run forever, it had been almost 60 years since Joe's death, and she felt his presence as if it were yesterday. Setting her cases down near the closet she opened the doors, expecting to find all of Joe's things, but there only hung a few of his favorite shirts in protective plastic. Who had done this? Fiona pulled out the bags of shirts and found an old note attached to one of them, now yellow and brittle, but still readable.

She began to cry as she read it:

Fiona,

Petey and I cleaned out a lot of Joe's things so you wouldn't be faced with them when you returned. I saved a few of his shirts and sweaters for you and all of his mementos are boxed for you to go through and sort out later.

I know it's a tough time for you and if you need anything call us.

Sarah

Fiona curled up on the large bed holding the bag of shirts and Sarah's letter clutched in her hand, and cried. Methos found her in that same position several hours later when he arrived. He had delayed his arrival to allow her time to sort through the memories alone, knowing that she needed to do this on her own. He couldn't help her, the strength had to come from inside herself..

Pulling the bag of clothes from her arms, he knocked loose the note. Bending to pick it up he recognized the hand writing--Saries. His hands trembled, as he stopped for a moment to read the note. He remembered when she wrote it. Fiona had disappeared and they didn't want her to come home and have to face going through all of Joe's things so they packed up everything they figured she wouldn't want, saving only the large shirts and a few sweaters for her. Joe's memento's they had boxed for storage, leaving only the photos out. Methos had comforted Sarah in her grief at Joe's death, putting his own feeling on hold until they could finish packing Joe's things. He wasn't to successful. He'd lost a good friend, one that he still missed. Who knew things would turn out the way they did?

He covered her and left to start fires in main room and the bedroom to help take the chill out of the night. He knew they had all the modern accessories for heating but there was nothing compared to a good old fashioned fire. Plus, he wanted to think. Fiona wasn't the only person who had been assaulted with memories; he'd been as well. The memories of Joe were to be expected, he and Joe had always remained close, but it was the unexpected memories of Sarah that he thought about now. They had visited Joe and Fiona often, and memories were all tied together with the four of them. Joe had always been a good friend and then once he and Sarah were together and Joe and Fiona were a couple the four of them would get together several times a year.

Fiona woke a couple hours later to find herself covered with an old afghan. Methos must have arrived, she thought, as she smell food cooking. She rose and changed clothes, putting on one of Joe's shirts before she padded down the hall to the kitchen. Trust Methos to be cooking away. He loved to cook and periodically dug into his journals for some ancient recipe to try again. Tonight, however he was sticking to an old favorite of hers, beef barley stew. She knew he had found Sarah's note, it was now neatly folded on the counter. It must have been hard for him as well, to see another reminder of his own loss.

He looked up as he heard her enter, " Hi there, have a good nap?"

Fiona nodded and walked into his arms. She didn't know if she could say what his being here now meant to her adequately, so she just held on to him.

Lifting her chin, he asked, "Are you OK?"

"I will be, now that you're here. It was hard walking in the door, there are just so many memories here, then finding Sarah's note wasn't easy either. How are you? I know finding the note couldn't have been easy." She paused, almost as if she were afraid to say what she wanted next. "Methos, will you help me look through the rest of Joe's things? I don't know if I can alone."

Methos knew that the hardest part for her was yet to come. Joe's personal things would bring memories she would have a hard time dealing with. Even though it had been 58 years since Joe died, she didn't do all her grieving at once like most people do. Fiona had distanced herself from it and only allowed herself to grieve when she couldn't run from it. Going out on the boat today was part of that final healing as was finally going through Joe's things.

"Fee, you know I'll do what ever you need me to. And you are right, it wasn't easy to find Sarah's note, it's harder to be here than I imagined. There are memories of Joe and memories of the four of us together tied to this place. The ghosts can be overwhelming..."

"Thank you, for being here with me. I guess we both have to learn to put aside the ghosts." she whispered into his chest.

They ate their supper by the large fire place in the mainroom, Fiona told him of her day on the boat and how good it felt to be back home in Ireland. She even had someone come up to her and ask if she was the previous owner's daughter. Fiona laughed about it and said yes, she was.

When they retired for the night Methos stoked the fire in the bedroom before crawling into bed and tucking Fiona in close to him, holding her as she dreamed of the past. Tomorrow he knew she would want to start sorting things out. Now that she was ready, she would want to finish it and go on.

They spent the next several days going through the house, room by room, cleaning, rearranging and deciding what to keep of Joe's things. They would periodically stop and laugh at some memory one of Joe's things brought to mind. It was a time of laughter and tears for both of them. There was just so much that brought back memories of Joe and the times spent together. When they finally got to the music room she faltered. This would be the hardest of all, they had spent so much time in there. She would sit while he wrote the songs, or they would play together blending their individual talents and music. His guitars still sat in their cases as well as her dulcimer and mandolin. Joe had bought her the mandolin for her birthday one year when she commented about wanting to play another instrument, saying she should play the mandolin because he couldn't see her playing some more modern instrument. He was right and she loved learning to play it.

Fiona put all the instruments together saying she wanted to refinish them and have them all tuned. She planned on leaving the mostly glass room as a music room so she could play again. She hadn't played since Joe's death. It had been the longest she'd ever gone without playing, but it had been too hard to play without Joe's presence or accompaniment. It would take a while to return playing again.

A few months later, on Christmas Eve, Fiona was sitting in the music room playing when she called to Methos, telling him to bring his sax and come play with her. She'd found some old Christmas music. Methos joined her and together they started played several old carols and ended up playing a variety of music including some of Joe's stuff. Fiona smiled as she played the old tunes with Methos, it brought back good memories for both of them. Finally putting their instruments aside they returned to the mainroom and curled up on pillows in front of the fire. Methos retrieved the bottle of wine he opened earlier and they shared a glass while watching they flames. Fiona turned and without warning spoke.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" he asked, wondering what was running through her mind.

"Yes, I love you. Yes, I want to have a future with you and try this one more time for as long as it lasts. I know there is unfinished business with Sarah but I'm here for you now and for as long as we make it work. I just wanted you to know all that, just in case I hadn't said it before."

"I know," was all he said before he pulled her into his arms. They had each been through so much and they had helped the other to finally heal that now it was time to go forward... together.

The end
"There's no clear cut beginning and no clear cut end." — Harry Chapin

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