Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I just play with 'em and hand 'em back, none the worse for wear.

Author's Notes: Poll says 9 people still reading- so here's another chapter for y'all, thank you for participating.
This particular chapter was a STONE COLD BITCH to write -it's pivotal to the plot- and I'm still not entirely happy with it. So if you find the characterization shaky in places, please let me know, okay? Thanks!

Story Notes: Highlander/due South crossover, with a cameo here and there from Hellboy, Airwolf, and a few other cameos the sharp-eyed might spot.

SequelTo: Geometry: Chapter 16, Never, My Lord!

Cradling Marina's body tight against his chest to hide the bullet wounds, Methos jerked his head at Saladin and let him duck out the door of the warehouse first after the cop shot the lock out. It had been centuries since they'd fought together, and truthfully it startled Methos to see how readily Saladin took his lead. Still, his former liegeman's display in front of Marina revealed whatever else Salah was feeling -or doing- he still took the oath he'd made to Methos all those millennia dead seriously. As seriously as that blond cop Vecchio was taking Mina's shooting. He obviously didn't have a clue about Mina being an Immortal; his heart had been bleeding out on the floor as surely as she was.

The street wasn't clear, but when the driver of the black van parked across from his rental jerked and reached for a weapon at the sight of them running out of the warehouse, a hail of gunfire smashed through the window of a third-floor apartment across the street and riddled the front of the van with bullets. Methos and Saladin ducked behind the silver rental car and exchanged grim glances.

"Up the street two blocks, go right," Mina choked out, blood dribbling from her lips, her chest heaving as she struggled to talk with a lung pierced by a bullet. "Red Civic. Keys in my coat pocket."

A spray of blood splattered Methos' cheek as her heart skipped and faltered ominously, her breathing erratic and labored. The end was close now. Methos pressed a reassuring kiss against her forehead. "It'll be over in a moment, a ghra," he murmured, brushing his cheek against hers. "I promise you'll wake in my arms."

"Now, my lord!" Salah raised up and snapped off the last two shots in Mina's pistol, he'd snatched it up off the floor when it skittered from her hands after she was shot. The rain of fire from across the street was focused on the black van, not them, so Salah bolted forward up the street, away from the warehouse. Methos tightened his grip on Mina and followed, his shoulders hunched for the familiar feel of bullets tearing into flesh. Miraculously, none did, but not until they turned the corner and left the gunfight behind did Methos spare a thought for anything but running.

He wasn't even winded, Marina weighed damn near nothing, Methos thought bitterly. Damn Joe anyway for keeping all of this from him, from Duncan. Marina was their fledgling -Duncan would claim she was his alone, jealous git, but forget that- Mina had acknowledged his claim on her own not minutes ago, had she not? Still, he and Joe Dawson would have words on this matter when he returned- and very possibly blows, if he did not like the answers he got.

Spotting the red Civic was a profound relief. As they reached it Salah was at his side instantly, rummaging through Marina's coat pockets, and fished out a ring of keys with a small key remote attached. Seconds later they were speeding away and Marina managed one last sentence.

"Take me home," she murmured. Her eyes closed, her breathing stopped as Methos stroked her bloody hair away from her forehead, cradling her lifeless body close.

"I will, a ghra," Methos said, struggling for calm.

"My lord?" Saladin asked, his manner hesitant. Even knowing she would revive, watching her die was a wrench.

Methos gave him the address for the wharf mechanically, he'd memorized it on the plane flight here together with the rest of Mina's current identity information, and to his relief Salah appeared to know enough of Chicago to get them there.

"My lord?"

"Yes, Salah?"

"I'm sorry."

Methos exhaled a long, steadying breath. "There was no way you could have known, Salah. It was unworthy of me, but I had no way to know..."

Saladin shook his head and dropped the formality. "Please, Methos. After everything that's happened... you were right not to trust me. But please believe me, I would have never raised my sword to someone you loved unless the lady... insisted."

Methos snorted. "She's a MacLeod. Unless you're evil or homicidal, she would honestly much rather be friends. Crazed breed."

The comment surprised an answering chuckle out of Saladin. "I noticed that. How on earth do they stay alive?"

Methos sobered abruptly and his grip on Marina tightened. "In spite of everything, sometimes I think that's their strength, Salah."

Saladin studied his liege lord thoughtfully. In two thousand years he had never, ever seen Methos react so strongly to anyone, human or Immortal. "Perhaps you're right, my lord," he said softly, turning back to his driving.

* * *

Diefenbaker followed the blood trail up the street for two blocks then turned right. Ray was following in the GTO before they were halfway up the first block and chewing his lip raw as he hurriedly dialed Welsh at the 27th.

"Welsh," the Lieutenant barked irritably.

"Vecchio here," Ray snapped right back. "Get a forensics team over to that call for the shooting down in the projects. Send the meat wagon, too." He thought about it. "Better send two."

All irritation vanished from Welsh's tone. "Fill me in."

Ray ground his teeth in frustration. "No idea. Might have a lot to do with that little visit we had this morning, might have a lot to do with our murder mystery. I don't know. When ya get the live ones to th' station, don't let 'em lawyer up. Stuff 'em in holding and grill 'em separately. No contact with each other and no outside contact at all."

Ray could hear Welsh drumming his fingers on his desk, they way he did when he was worried. "Jesus, what happened, Vecchio?"

"Damn if I know. But see what you can get out of 'em. Their cover story might tell us a lot. They're pros, Lieu, they won't crack easy."

"Then we'll haveta push 'em hard," Welsh said grimly. "Anything else I should know?"

For some reason Ray did not want to tell him -tell anyone- about Marina being shot. His instincts were screaming, screaming, to keep that quiet- that it was unbelievably dangerous for anyone to know that. But what if Methos had taken her to a hospital? He was a stranger here. Which hospital would he take her to? Not necessarily the closest one. Hell, for all Ray knew Pierson, Methos, whatever, was a doctor himself, although Ray would bet the GTO that the ID he'd flashed at the station would come up fake. Inspiration struck.

"I don' think we got 'em all boxed in before the backup arrived, Lieu. Have Frannie check the hospitals and the urgent care centers. Anyone admitted with three gunshot wounds to the chest I wanna know about it. Like, yesterday."

"You're not telling me everything, Vecchio," Welsh growled.

"I got nothing to tell ya, Lieu." Frustration and aggravation leached out of Ray's every word. "Fraser an' the' wolf are trackin' two suspects now. I got hunches an' nothin' more! Soon as I got somethin', you'll be the first to know."

"Find your suspects. Then get in here. I want to know exactly what happened, detective."

"Yeah." Ray cut the call and tossed the phone on the passenger seat before he threw it right out the window.

Fraser dropped back and was pacing beside the driver's window, listening, as Ray snarled in agonized worry and beat his fist angrily on the steering wheel.

"You didn't tell him about Mina being shot."

Ray shook his head, watching Dief stop dead and start sniffing the filthy pavement, the heat waves flowing up off the blacktop distorting the wolf's outline. "No way. Something's way, way hinky, Ben buddy. Feds, hit squads, murder suspects... and Mina's family, that Methos guy..." Ray's throat closed and his knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as he let the GTO roll to a stop. "Fraser..."

Fraser's hand closed over his. "Tell me, Ray." His voice was shaky, which didn't help Ray much, but the touch of that strong capable hand was reassuring.

"Mina..." Ray's eyes filled, misery contorting his features. "She was hit bad, Ben. Three shots, right in the chest. One was..." Ray's breath went ragged. "One was a lung hit, Ben."

Fraser was struggling to keep control, fighting to be strong. He had been at the wrong angle to see how Mina was shot, how badly she was hit. This was much worse than he expected. Much, much worse.

"All I could think was I never told 'er I loved her," Ray confessed, hurting so badly it struck Ben a heavy blow. "Not once. She had ta... had ta be dyin' in my arms before I could even think about sayin' it. What kind of a coward does that make me, Frase? I run my mouth 24-7! How could I not say that...?"

Diefenbaker barked sharp, loud, wrenching both men's attention around to the wolf. Enough! His mate was in danger. The hunt was still on, and the blood-trail was lost now. But he could catch the faint scent of the wharf and of Lotus, and the aftertaste of the place where he and Mina fed so often. Let them continue the hunt there, and quickly.

Fraser cleared his throat and ruthlessly dragged his iron self-control back into place. "Diefenbaker says the trail ends here, Ray. And we should try the wharf. He smells Lotus, and her family's restaurant."

"Didn't you see Lotus' car here on th' way in?"

"Yes, Ray."

"This where you saw it?"

"Yes, Ray."

Ray gnawed on his lip, thinking. "Mina knew better than to bring her Jeep down here, it'd get jacked."

Fraser's hand tightened on Ray's. "You think she borrowed Lotus's car because it wouldn't attract attention in this locale?"

Ray's gaze sharpened as he swiped a rough hand across his wet eyes. "In the car, partner. Let's move."

Fraser and Dief were in the car in seconds and Ray peeled out, glad for the chance to move, to do something other than agonize.

"Four Dragons is on my speed dial, Frase. Call Lotus' grandma an' see if you can get a location on her car."

"Understood."

Five minutes later Fraser was talking rapidly into the phone but Ray just concentrated on getting them back to the wharf as fast as possible. They were all the way on the other side of town and plowing through rush hour traffic wasn't helping matters any.

"Thank you kindly, Mrs. Miao." Fraser turned the phone off and ran a nervous knuckle over his eyebrow. "Marina borrowed Lotus' car two hours ago and hasn't brought it back yet. Mrs. Miao will call us when she does."

"Good." Ray bit his lower lip harder, thinking about what Methos said.

Fraser reached over and brushed his fingertip over Ray's lower lip. Startled, Ray flicked a fast glance at his partner; unable to keep his attention off the road for long at the speed the GTO was moving.

"You're chewing your lip raw, Ray," Fraser said softly. "Please don't hurt yourself. It won't help her."

"Methos said she'd be all right," Ray blurted out, unable to keep silent about it any longer. "An' it was weird, Frase, but it... it was like he knew what he was talkin' about. Like he knew she'd be okay, even as bad as she was hit. I dunno how to explain it, but..." Ray floundered for words; unable to express the strange certainty Methos spoke with.

Fraser swallowed hard. "Let us hope so, Ray." He shot a worried glance over his shoulder at Diefenbaker, standing tense and restless in the backseat, the wolf's jaw pressed firmly against Ray's shoulder and neck. "For all our sakes."

* * *

The remote on the car's key chain opened the garage door to Marina's apartment building. Even so, Methos could not help but wonder who's car it actually was; Mina was a neat freak, her car would never have textbooks and art supplies piled on the back seat and smell permanently of Chinese food. Fortunately the remote was labeled with a parking-space number, and Salah parked the car quickly. After making sure the garage was empty, Methos pulled the edges of Mina's coat over her chest and carried her to the elevator. Salah shot him a 'what now?' glance when the security system queried them for a voice code, but Methos designed the damn system for Mina. His was the only other full-access voice code the system had.

"Priority one override, Methos," he said clearly, shifting Mina higher in his arms.

The security panel flickered and 'override accepted' flashed up on the small video screen as Saladin lifted an eyebrow.

"You've been here before, my lord?"

"Never," Methos replied, and enjoyed the puzzled look that crossed Salah's face. It was good to remind one's liegemen their lord was, as always, one step ahead. He had to stifle an inappropriate chuckle. Apparently there was still a trace of the Horseman in him... well enough, as long as it was only a trace. The elevator pinged and slid open, and when they walked out the door on the far end of the hallway clicked open, sounding weirdly loud in the empty hall. Methos hefted up Mina's body again and headed for it.

"Lovely artwork," Salah remarked, studying the soaring, twisting dragons flowing up the wall and across the ceiling. "Still untrained, but marvelous potential."

"One of her scholarship students," Methos said absently. "She sponsors several."

Several things clicked together for Saladin, knowing how Immortals tended to operate. "She owns the building?"

"The whole wharf." Methos turned sideways to maneuver through the door without bumping Mina's feet against the doorframe. "Her pet urban renewal project."

"The MacLeod and her people," Saladin mused, thoughtful at the implications. "Even so far from her homeland, she takes the old ways to heart. An adopted clan to watch over. It takes the care of an entire village to fill the emptiness inside. Is she so lonely without you, my lord?"

His liegeman might as well have driven his rapier straight through his heart, but Methos hardened it with a brutality learned by standing at Kronos' side for a thousand years.

"It's killing her," Methos answered, his voice remote, cold. "Close the door, Salah."

"Yes, my lord."

Methos looked around. Marina's apartment sprawled out in front of them, all light and space and the warmth of hardwood floors, the scent of coffee and flowers and books, the lingering aftertaste of incense and candles sweet with spice. Colors muted and cool set off by more shades bright and clear, in furniture comfortable for tall men to sprawl out on, cushions that would be soft to make love on. It felt so much like home Methos briefly wished he still possessed the ability to cry, that he might weep for this home she had made for him and Duncan, knowing all the while they would probably never see it. Oh, their beloved fledgling. How they had failed her.

"Stand guard, Salah," Methos said shortly. "She needs tending to."

"Yes, my lord."

* * *

It didn't take Methos long to find Marina's bedroom, the bed was unmade and rumpled and the room smelled faintly of the spice and flower scent Mina exuded during lovemaking. Layered over that sweetly familiar aroma were two other scents, one of wool, leather and neat's foot oil, and one of cinnamon gum, gunmetal, and the same brand of hair gel Methos used himself.

"So you are dallying with them, my darling," Methos murmured, brushing a kiss over her forehead, rather more pleased than not. Perhaps the current situation was not so dire as he'd feared, if Marina -notoriously chary with her favors, especially for an Immortal- had lowered her guard enough to allow lovers into her bed.

"They had best be worthy of you, fledgling." It was good to have the report of Marina's Watcher confirmed, occasionally observer reports were -more often than Joe would like to admit- thoroughly mistaken about the most basic things.

For now... Methos sighed. Marina hadn't awakened yet, so there was really no point in soiling her bed linens with blood and dirt. He laid her body carefully on the bathroom floor and started her massive tub -large enough for three- filling with hot water.

Marina was a precise, tidy cat in many of her habits, and a minute later Methos was pouring his favorite bubble bath into her tub, and the scent of lavender, roses, violets and musk rose up on the steam. It twisted his heart sadly to notice of all the pretty bottles of bath oils, salts and gels, his favorite scent was the one she used most. That bottle was nearly empty, while all the others were at least two-thirds full. Stripping off her blood-soaked clothing only took a few minutes, and Methos dropped his own clothes on the bathroom floor carelessly before stepping into the shower with her body.

Cleaning off the blood and dirt didn't take long, but if she and Duncan hadn't had a fetish for the three of them bathing together, washing her long hair would have been an unmitigated nuisance. As it was, by the time the tub was full Mina's hair and body were clean of blood, dirt and most of the residual blowback from her pistols. Methos stepped out of the shower, leaving it running while he lowered her carefully into the chin-deep swirling water, arranging her limbs gracefully beneath the drifts of bubbles.

Leaving her soaking in the hot water, Methos flipped off the shower and tossed several towels on the edge of the tub. The bullet wounds had closed fully, she was near to reviving, so he kicked the clothes in the corner- they'd have to be burned later anyway, they were forensic evidence.

With a weary, helplessly happy sigh, he sank into the hot water behind her lax body and gathered his lover into his arms, pillowing her head on his shoulder and holding her loosely between his legs, supporting and enfolding her completely. When Marina woke, she would wake warm and safe and surrounded by him. He promised her.

Unfortunately, then Methos recalled something important.

"Salah!"

Saladin appeared at the bathroom door after a brief pause. "Yes, my lord?"

Minor annoyance flavored his request. "There's a velvet pouch in the inner pocket of my coat. Would you hand it to me?"

Saladin rummaged in the pockets obligingly and after a moment withdrew a velvet pouch, about six inches square in a vivid shade of cobalt blue. "This?"

"Yes." Methos out held out a hand still damp with soapsuds and took it, dampening the fabric a bit.

Saladin poked through the pile of blood-soaked clothing experimentally. "I've had a look around, my lord. If you go through the dojo there's a large patio that faces over the water. If you wished to dispose of these, there's a brick barbeque pit on the patio that should work well."

"Strip the clothes and burn them all," Methos agreed.

"Shall I clean the swords and guns as well, my lord?" Saladin cocked a wry eyebrow at him and then grinned, taking the sardonic sting away.

Methos laughed. God, it had been so many centuries since he'd seen Salah; he'd forgotten the man's dual sense of humor, sly subtle digs and straightforward sharp jabs mixed in unpredictable fashion. And black as sin, Mina would love it.

"I'd forgotten how handy it was to be lord and master. Sure, thanks, Salah. I want to stay with her until she wakes up."

Saladin nodded and his face softened. "She's very dear to you."

"If I was capable of the emotion, I'd say I love her. But we both know I'm not, so..." he shrugged. "I'm probably just being an idiot."

Saladin laughed. "And we both know you're so very good at that, Methos."

"Scram. What the hell are you doing hanging around when I've got a naked girl in my arms?"

"Hoping for sloppy seconds?"

Methos roared at the black humor, sending a wave of bubbles and water over the floor as he slapped the surface. Saladin stepped back and tossed one of the towels on the floor to soak it up, holding the rest of their clothes in one hand.

"You sure you want me to burn yours?"

"Can't risk it with cops crawling all over the place. Mina'll have some of my clothes around, she's the sentimental sort."

"Whatever you say. I'll take care of it and then I... I think I'll stand vigil in the dojo tonight. If she wouldn't mind."

"No, go ahead, Salah. We'll figure it all out later, I think the one person who knows the most about what's going on is still dead."

"That does make a discussion difficult," Saladin admitted, and grinned again before leaving.

Methos braced Mina's head against his shoulder and tugged the strings open on the bag, smiling a little. He'd been saving this trinket for a special occasion, and as he upended the bag a mass of glowing blue gems spilled out into his hand. He tossed the empty bag up onto the bathroom counter and dangled the strand from his fingertips. A string of pearls, diamonds and radiantly clear blue stones threw dancing motes of light up on the walls.

"The bride price of a Queen, my love," Methos murmured, "and not less than you deserve." He fastened the necklace around her throat a little clumsily, working around the wet hair sticking to her neck and shoulders. "Ego requiro vos adeo, meus Regina, meus pectus pectoris eram desolate vacuus vos."

Once he was done, the gems shining on her lovely russet skin, Methos settled Marina back against his chest and sighing in contentment, began to whisper softly into her ear, stroking her hair away from her temple.

"Amor est vitae essentia. Rosa rubicundior, lilio candidior, omnibus formosior, semper in te glorior..."

* * *

"Oh, Jesus, Mina," Ray breathed, rage and horror battling for dominance as he mechanically snapped cuffs onto unmoving wrists.

Standing in the hallway over Saladin's unconscious body -blood dripping from his knuckles, he'd hit the jerk so hard- Ray wasn't sure he wasn't slipping over the edge into insanity as he stared down at the pile of blood-soaked clothing he'd kicked aside to cuff the guy after they jumped him in the hallway. They were too late. Their Mina, their beautiful Mina, was dead, and this insane fuck was joking about sloppy seconds while the other freak had her corpse in a bubble bath, for Christ's sake.

"She died for me, Fraser. She took those bullets for me..." Screaming inside, unable to believe or cope with the horror of it all, Ray's gun tightened on his gun until the metal began cutting into his flesh. Please, God, Ray begged to heaven silently, please let this be some horrible dream, it was too surreal and sick to be even his fucked up life. This couldn't be real, this nightmare hurt too much to bear, he needed to wake up...

Forcing the cop part to take over for the broken-hearted lover, forcing himself to focus on the strange words drifting out of the bathroom, Ray dimly realized they sounded familiar. "What's he saying, Fraser?" Ray choked out so quietly only Fraser's bat-ears would catch it. "What is that?"

"It's Latin, Ray." Even Fraser's voice was trembling, and his face was so pale the blood vessels under his skin were blue. Too shocked and shattered to stand on his own, leaning against the wall outside Mina's bedroom, Fraser watched the scene in the bathroom reflected in the mirror over her bureau in horrified torment. A monstrosity, to see this man cradling their Marina so intimately, so caring and kind and gentle with her lifeless body. Had the shock of losing Marina made him lose his mind? Judging from what he was saying, perhaps it had...

"I missed you so much, my Queen, my heart was desolate without you." Fraser's hand sank deep into Diefenbaker's ruff as he translated for Ray in the barest whisper. "Love is the essence of life. Redder than the rose, whiter than the lilies, fairer than everything, I will always glory in thee..." His voice broke. "Dear Lord, Ray, he's gone mad."

It took more strength than Ray dreamed he possessed, but he grabbed Fraser's free hand and clamped down. God, he couldn't listen to it anymore. "We gotta stop this. We go on three, partner."

Fraser's grip tightened over his bleeding knuckles. Ray hardly noticed the pain, it was remote, detached, unlinked to this hideous heartrending reality where Marina was dead and her friend was mad and a murderer was lying at their feet.

"On three, Ray," Fraser agreed, his eyes huge and dark and half-mad with grief himself. Ray knew he looked the same.

"One, two, three..." and they surged forward, shoulders touching, their partner's bond screaming with grief and horror, anguish and guilt.

* * *

"Hands in the air!" Ray yelled, charging into the bathroom with Fraser right at his side; and Jesus H. Christ, he hadn't noticed it before but Frase was holding one of Mina's guns, must have pulled it out of the wad of blood-drenched clothing. That more than anything else really scared Ray: he was freaked before, but he was scared now, because Fraser didn't carry, Fraser never carried, but Frase was holding that gun trained rock steady on Methos-Pierson-whatever with such uncanny skill it brought back to Ray that those were marksmanship patches on his partner's red uniform sleeves.

"It's not what you think," Methos snapped out, his arms clamping around her body in instinctive protection as his brain kicked into overdrive. Bloody hell, how had they gotten in? This interruption couldn't have happened at a worse time- Marina was waking, damn it!

"What else can it be?" Ray bellowed, his finger white on the Glock's trigger. "She's dead!"

Methos felt the slender body clutched in his arms quiver. "No," he raged, helpless to stop it. "No, damn it, not now!" But it was too late.

Marina's eyes snapped open, large and blue, as her body arched up and she took a huge, inrushing breath. And her wide, startled eyes fell on Ray, pointing a gun at her, his index finger white-knuckled on the trigger already, trembling with near-homicidal rage. Right beside him was Fraser with her own gun trained on her, his white faced Mountie-mask not hiding stalwart, terrifyingly grim determination.

Marina screamed her lungs flat in a heartbeat, rearing back and struggling to get away, thrashing in the water and unable to get a footing on the slick porcelain underfoot.

"It's all right," Methos yelled urgently, clamping his arms around Mina, trying to soothe her by touch and voice and the hard familiar strength of his body wrapped around hers. She was fighting so wildly to back away from Ray and Fraser that Methos heaved up onto the back edge of the tub, planted his back against the cool tiles of the wall and dragged Marina up against his torso, stroking her forehead with one hand while keeping the other clamped around her waist.

"It's all right, baby," Methos crooned reassuringly, pressing kisses against her forehead, trying to calm her down from the adrenalin-charged fear spike smashing through her waking consciousness. "I'm here, my love, I won't let them hurt you."

Mina dug right into him, clinging like a limpet as she sucked in another breath, practically strangling on the effort to breathe after screaming every scrap of air out of her lungs in that massive rush so soon after awakening. Her lungs were heaving so hard she was practically hyperventilating as she splayed a hand over her chest, looking down to where the bullets had pierced her skin.

The wounds were gone, only soap bubbles slid slowly down her body... and a new necklace ornamented her collarbone, lovely with the shining blue stones she adored, dangling from a double strand of pearls and diamond hearts.

Oddly enough, that little familiarity steadied her. Their foolish ritual born of her magpie's love for shiny things... a silly game played by lovers.

Marina dragged in a long slow breath that sounded like it ripped her lungs bloody and turned her face away from Methos to look at Ray and Fraser. Really looked at Ray and Fraser, both standing frozen and utterly mind blown by her resurrection, guns still trained rock-steady at her heart.

What she saw in their faces -disbelief, shock, and worst of all, fear- made her face crumple up in a heartbroken wail and she turned away, tears welling up and spilling down her cheeks.

"No," she wept, anguished, curling into a tiny ball in Methos' arms. "They can't see me like this, not like this..."

Ray and Fraser exchanged shattered glances, and Ray's gun hand fell limp at his side as Fraser lurched back against the bathroom counter, the Sig clattering against the marble countertop. Still in a daze, Ray's thumb pushed the safety on before he sank down right where he stood, unable even to move as his legs simply folded underneath him.

"What... what are you?" Ray managed to say. Dief whined reassuringly and shoved up against Ray, bracing his shoulder so Ray could lean on him for support.

Fraser was grateful his human partner was up to speaking for them both, and his wolf partner was up to caring for Ray, because he was manifestly not capable of doing either right now. Marina was alive. She was alive, and without so much as a mark on her. While he had not had the up-close view of her wounds Ray had, he had seen her get shot, three times, right in the chest. Wounds that were gone now, gone as though they never existed; without even a scar left behind to mark her smooth skin. What, in the name of heaven, was going on here?

"She's an Immortal," Methos said calmly, stroking Mina's back soothingly. "Like me."

And that was all anyone said for long minutes as Mina cried, Methos rocked her gently and Ray and Fraser just stared, unable to process anything in the riot of emotions storming between them both.

* * *

Diefenbaker broke the silent tableau finally, rumbling a gentle reproof to Fraser to come and care for Ray as he did the same for his One and her worried pack-mate.

"As you wish," Fraser said weakly, reached down and set his hand under Ray's elbow, urging him up off the floor, wrapping an arm around Ray's shoulder so they could both lean against the counter.

Still caught between the morass of guilt that he'd been the cause of Mina's death and joy and relief that she wasn't dead, Ray was more than willing to just lean there and shake like a leaf from the stress reaction.

Diefenbaker reared up and planted his paws on the edge of the tub, staring at Methos fearlessly, and growled low at Marina.

She shivered in Methos' arms and with a shudder, uncoiled from her fetal position and slid back down into the water, flowed across the tub and wrapped her arms around Dief, burying her face in his ruff, breathing in the dear, beloved smell of wolf.

He licked her tears away, nuzzling her ear tenderly. She need not cry any longer. It would be all right, lovemate. He would make it so.

Mina sniffled. "I love you, Diefenbaker," she said, too emotionally raw to do anything but accede to her beloved's urging.

Dief rumbled a low wolf-laugh. That was as it should be. She should make him known to her kin now, as the Oldest One was beginning to be anxious.

Mina nodded and lifted her head, reaching out for Methos. He slid off the edge of the tub and moved over to sit on the side Dief's paws were planted on, putting him eye-to-eye with the big wolf. His hand settled on the back of her neck as he studied the wolf starting at him curiously.

"Who's your wolf friend?"

"This is Diefenbaker, Methos. My mate," she said simply, but Methos' eyebrows nearly climbed through his hairline.

"You've taken up bestiality? That's new. Kinky, too."

The smothered laugh that tumbled off her pale lips surprised everyone, but Diefenbaker rumbled approvingly and licked her cheek.

"Just because you're a pervert doesn't mean the rest of us are, you fossil," she muttered, swatting at the hand rubbing her neck lightly. "Kindly don't reduce our relationship to something as ephemeral as sex. We have a much more meaningful bond than that."

Something flashed over Methos' face too swiftly to be identified. "Which of the six?"

Mina's brows drew together as she realized what he was asking, but she answered readily enough. "Eros, storge, and agape. Just without the sex. Weird perversions aside, humans and wolves aren't physically compatible."

Methos eyed the wolf, unsure quite what to make of this. It wasn't like he hadn't encountered animals with human-level intelligence before -at his age, he'd encountered everything before- but cross-species love as equals? He hadn't run across this kind of thing for thousands of years. They were short on time- he went for the direct approach.

"Can you understand me, Diefenbaker?"

Diefenbaker huffed a laugh and flicked his ears but barked once.

"One for yes, two for no, and he's deaf and reading your lips, so do try and enunciate a bit more, please," Mina translated, leaning against Dief's side. Men. Always had to beat the obvious to death with a stick.

Methos blinked. "Sorry," he said. "Do you love her?"

One bark, accompanied by a pointed 'are you always this stupid?' look.

Methos' mouth twisted wryly. "Excuse me," he replied, "but she's our fledgling, Duncan's and mine. We worry."

A somewhat mitigated sniff accompanied Diefenbaker's pointed observation the Oldest One seemed awfully possessive about his mate. Was he always so?

"Actually... no." Marina admitted, ruffling the wolf's ears. "Exactly the opposite, in fact."

Despite looking like he'd really like to know what Dief just asked, Methos steered the conversation back on track, stroking Marina's hair the same absentminded reassuring way she was stroking Dief's ears, giving and taking comfort from the touch.

"You know what she is, what I am?"

One affirmative bark.

"It doesn't bother you?"

Two barks, accompanied by another even more pointed stare that commented unfavorably on his intelligence quotient again.

"But they don't?" Methos jerked his head at Ray and Fraser, who were watching the conversation with expressions that were swiftly changing from shock to confusion.

Two barks.

"Some reason why?"

One bark.

"A good reason?" Methos pressed.

One deep-throated growl- accompanied by a pointed stare at Ray and Fraser.

"Sorry, sorry, my mistake," Methos said, holding up both hands. "You wanted to protect them, I take it?"

One very firm bark, accompanied by a worried whine and sidelong glance at his partners.

Methos sighed. "Considering how poorly they're taking it, I can understand that, I suppose." He let out a bark of bitter laughter surprisingly similar to Diefenbaker's. "Then again, it's not like anyone ever takes it well." He stroked Mina's hair a few more times, brooding over the conversation.

So the Watcher's reports were right with this, too. She had bonded with a wolf. A human-canine soul bond to the point they could speak- a phenomenon he had not seen for millennia, not since humans wore skins, carried spears and roamed the steppes of modern-day Russia in company with packs of huge gray wolves. Still, if anyone was capable of resurrecting such an ancient bond it would be Marina... after her weird experiences with that group of government spooks and demon-hunters, she had one foot planted firmly in the real world and one in the paranormal realm, straddling the boundary between two entirely separate realities for so long it was second nature now. Indeed, a wolf partner of the kind he used to know would be a fierce, loyal protector for Mina.

Methos straightened and nailed the wolf eye-to-eye, a deliberate challenge, and Fraser stiffened as he watched. Ray caught his partner's reaction and tensed.

"I see why she chose you, Diefenbaker. You do know if you hurt her, I will kill you?"

Another, much deeper growl, accompanied by a pointed baring of fangs, then Diefenbaker deliberately broke the stare-down disdainfully and turning to Fraser, rumbled a series of complicated vocalizations at the Mountie.

Fraser cleared his throat and translated hoarsely, "Diefenbaker would like you to know he understands that. Approves, even. He does, of course, reserve the right to do the same if you hurt her. Wolves mate for life, and she is his One. His," Fraser repeated, with particular emphasis. "Not yours, and... not ours, either. His." Fraser swallowed, his expression carefully blank. "And Diefenbaker would like me to point out he does know how to kill your kind."

Methos stared hard at Fraser. "You can understand the wolf? Like she can?"

"Er, well, yes." Fraser found himself at a loss. What a strange situation, to find his translation skills for Diefenbaker called into question. Particularly by an unselfconsciously naked man sitting half in and half out of a bathtub quizzing his wolf companion about his intentions about his... fledgling. His fledgling? What did that mean, exactly?

"In point of fact," Fraser felt compelled to explain, retreating behind his facade of Mountie politeness in sheer bewilderment; "until Diefenbaker introduced us to Doctor MacLeod, I had never met another person save myself who could understand him."

That stung Marina deeply, hard as she tried not to show it. So she was 'Doctor MacLeod' again? So much for their friendship, their intimacy, gone as soon as Ben and Ray found out what she was... in truth, she should have expected it. Very few humans were as understanding as dear, lost Tessa. She had hoped Ben and Ray might be too, but apparently not. Tears smarted in her eyes and her fingers tightened on Diefenbaker's fur as the wolf pressed closer.

"It's all right, Dief," she muttered, suddenly weary and depressed and very, very tired. Too tired even to cry. The sun hadn't set yet and she'd racked up two traumatic reunions, had her location betrayed to contract killers, fought a sword battle, a gunfight, died once, been outed as an Immortal and a retired federal agent to her two current -and probably soon to be former- lovers... and was sitting in a bathtub with her skin going prune-y, probably looking like a drowned rat.

"I hate Mondays," she sighed and dragged the tattered remnants of her composure back over her aching heart. Fuck it- it was still her damn house. She was entitled to a few minutes to put her face on.

"I'd like some privacy, please," she said simply, bringing up her arm to cover her breasts. "I won't go anywhere, Detective, Constable."

Ray and Fraser reacted like they'd been stung.

"Of course, how rude, please excuse us..." Fraser nearly babbled and practically dragged Ray out of the bathroom into the bedroom.

Methos quirked an eyebrow but stepped out of the tub, ignoring the last few soapsuds clinging to his skin as he scooped up a towel off the bathroom counter and slung it around his hips. "Are you all right, a ghra?"

Marina nodded. It helped, a little, to hear Duncan's pet name for her. Methos picked up the habit after the three of them became lovers -mostly to annoy Duncan- but right now it was a welcome familiarity.

Methos brushed a kiss over her forehead and grabbed another towel, slinging it around his shoulders as he left, pulling the bathroom door shut behind him. To Methos' surprise, Diefenbaker followed him out.

Fraser was standing in parade rest by the bedroom door, keeping an eye on Saladin, still unconscious from Ray's maddened punch. Ray was pacing the confines of her bedroom restlessly, his mind awhirl, struggling to process everything he'd seen.

Fuck, Ray could hardly believe it was less then ten minutes since they slipped into Marina's apartment through the door from their apartment, overpowered their principal murder suspect walking down her hallway and discovered all this. So much had happened it felt like days should have passed. His eye fell on the picture on Marina's bedside table, the one of Marina and Duncan and Methos. He walked over and picked it up, running a finger over the glass, comparing the image of the three laughing faces there with the reality of the lanky man standing casually on the other side of room, drying his hair with a towel.

"Are they like you too?" Ray asked abruptly. "The other MacLeods?"

Methos pulled the towel away from his face and cocked his head, looking at the picture as Ray held it up. He smiled when he saw the photo.

"You mean are Duncan and Connor Immortals? Yes, they both are."

"This immortality..." Fraser said slowly. "It's inherited, then? Genetic?"

"No," Methos said immediately. "It's not. Our kind are all sterile. We don't breed, ever. It just happens. Three of them being from the same clan is, as far as we can tell, just a coincidence."

Ray was struggling with this. Half an hour he'd have offered up anything on earth including his own life for Marina to be all right, but now... there was just so much to take in he wasn't sure what he felt.

"What does that mean, Immortal?" Ray blurted out. "You mean like live forever?"

Methos nodded and strode over to Marina's dresser. "With one restriction, yes."

If she was keeping to her usual habits, the bottom right-hand drawer should have a few spare sets of his clothes in it, as the bottom left-hand one would have Duncan's. He toed the drawer open and smiled. So predictable, Mina was, if you knew her well. Methos rummaged through it carelessly and pulled out a black sweater, jeans, boxer-briefs and socks, throwing them on the bed.

"How long have you lived?" Ray asked abruptly.

Methos met his tense, tormented gaze squarely. What a question to lean off with! The guy must be one hell of a detective if he had instincts that good.

"Honestly? I don't know, Ray. I practically predate the science of mathematics. I was born about the same time the Sumerians were developing the first numeral system. Kind of hard to keep track of your birthdays when numbers really haven't been invented yet. But... five thousand years- give or take a few centuries."

Ray and Fraser both choked.

"Jesus H. Christ!" The picture dropped right out of Ray's hand, fortunately landing on the unmade bed.

Methos shrugged the black sweater on. The light cotton weave was butter-soft but hopefully the long sleeves wouldn't make him sweat too much. He shoved them up over his elbows carelessly. Bless Mina- she had the size perfect.

"Are you all that old?" Ray sat down on the edge of the bed. "Is... she?"

"No," Methos said calmly. "Marina is very young for an Immortal. She was born in 1888, Duncan in 1592, and Connor in 1518."

Fraser did some fast mental arithmetic at Ray's sideways glance. "So she is 109, Duncan is 405, and Connor is 479."

Ray absorbed that. "Izzat why she's yer fledgling? 'Cause she's young?"

"In part." Methos dried his legs and tossed the towel on the bed. Fraser averted his eyes politely but Ray kept staring, as unconcerned by his partial nudity as Methos was.

"Marina was Connor and Duncan's fledgling first; they trained her in the sword, taught her the Game- the rules to being an Immortal," Methos added, catching Ray's puzzled look as he tugged on the blue boxer-briefs. "I only met Mina and Duncan two years ago, but when they discovered who I was..." Methos chuckled. "Marina decided she wanted to learn from me -Heaven only knows why- and when we became a trio, I..."

Unsure how much to reveal, Methos sat down on the bed, frowning at the jeans held limply in one hand. "I ended up caring for her, for Duncan... much more than I should have. More than I wanted to. Being an Immortal... is a lonely fate. Watching everyone you love grow old, and die, while you never change, except to become more bitter, more cold." His mouth twisted, sharp with self-directed sarcasm. "I know better than to fall in love- but she doesn't, not yet. And when she and Duncan learned to love me... I was too weak to push them away." He laughed, but there was no mirth in it, just a hard, harsh, sardonic edge. "I always was a weakling when it really mattered."

Ray decided to leave that alone. "What's the restriction?"

Methos shrugged, stood up and tugged the jeans on. "As your wolf friend pointed out, there is one way to kill an Immortal."

"And that would be?" Fraser asked.

Methos eyed the Mountie. The man had retreated behind an emotional wall so wide and strong his feelings might as well have been on another planet. Interesting... and disturbing, too.

"Decapitation. It's the only way. If you take an Immortal's head, you take their power, their memories, all that they were. It's called the Quickening."

Ray frowned, obviously confused. "Why ya wanna cut each other's heads off?"

Methos pulled the socks on and went to rummage through Marina's closet for shoes. "There is only one rule to being an Immortal."

"And that would be?" Fraser pressed.

"There can be only one."

Methos said the phrase with such chilling conviction both Ray and Fraser felt cold. Sitting on the bed, Diefenbaker rumbled a question, and both Methos and Ray looked at Fraser for a translation.

Fraser frowned, confused. "Diefenbaker asks if you mean 'The Gathering'?"

Methos shot the wolf a sharp stare. "She told you about that?"

Dief whuffed once.

"I see." Methos stared thoughtfully at Diefenbaker. "She's told you everything?"

"Not everything," Marina disagreed, walking out of the bathroom wrapped in a thick white terrycloth robe, her long hair wrapped up in a matching towel. "We haven't had time for that. We hit all the important parts, though. When Mitchell Dalton's body turned up and I began to suspect an Immortal was involved, I needed somebody to talk to."

She started rummaging casually through her drawers for clothing, just as Methos had, and it gave both Ray and Fraser a jolt to realize how familiar with each other they were. Mina hadn't even blinked to see Methos dressed in clothing taken from her own bureau, clothing that fitted perfectly and flattered his coloration and body type.

"What's the connection between Dalton and you guys?" Ray asked instantly, his head snapping up.

"Mitchell Dalton was Saladin's Watcher."

"Who's Saladin?" Ray interrupted.

Desperate for a few minutes to regain her composure, Marina pulled a cobalt blue thong and matching bra out of her top drawer and disappeared into her walk-in closet. Her voice drifted out as she continued.

"Saladin's the guy in the parking garage picture. Yosef Ayubin. The saber found in Mitchell Dalton's body is his. It was planted there to frame him, just like we..." Marina flinched. As far as she could tell, there wasn't any 'we' any more. "Just like you thought."

She stuck her head out of the closet and looked at Methos. "Did you know Saladin and Dalton were lovers?"

Methos' eyebrows went up. "No, Salah neglected to mention that. It certainly wouldn't be in the Watcher files."

Mina shrugged and disappeared back into the closet. "When Dalton was kidnapped by Horton and the Hunters, Saladin came to Chicago looking for him. Horton used Dalton to lure Saladin into a trap so they could kill him, but he managed to escape."

Methos' face went unexpectedly grim. "Horton's here?"

"Without a doubt," Marina confirmed. "When Saladin went to the meet to try and get Dalton back, he heard one of the mercs call him by name."

"In other words, we're fucked," Methos grumbled.

"Worse than you know," Marina answered. "Two of the staff at the 27th precinct tried to run an trace on my name and spewed it all over the 'net. I've probably been followed by a hit squad since I left the station house this morning." She walked out of the closet wearing clothing nearly identical to Methos', jeans and a light black sweater, but the gems at her throat glowed like blue fire. "I was trying to get to Saladin before they could, but they moved too fast. Instead, I led them right to him."

"That brunette twit at the station, Francesca," Methos mused, wandering back into the bathroom and emerging with a wide-toothed comb. "I met her. She's the one who blew your cover? I'm not surprised. The woman's got the worst case of verbal diarrhea I've ever seen."

"She's one of them. Ray's ex-wife was the other." Marina sat down in front of her dressing table and buried her face in her hands as Methos started combing the loose snarls out of her hair gently. The familiarity soothed her enough so she could continue.

"When their computer search threw up red flags all over the federal net, Archangel showed up at the 27th this morning like the wrath of God descending to earth to try and run some damage control, but it was too late. My cover's blown to hell and the Hunters know where I am," she said tiredly, rubbing her eyes with one hand. "It's an unmitigated disaster."

"Wait a minute!" Ray nearly yelled, sick of only getting one-third of the conversation. "Who are the Hunters? Why do they want to kill you? What's a Watcher? Who's Horton? Tell me what's goin' on!" Ray sprang to his feet and started pacing again. "I'm fucking sick of everybody keepin' secrets!"

"Are you really, Detective Kowalski?" Marina raised her head and met Ray's suddenly stricken gaze in the mirror. "I do believe that's the pot calling the kettle black."

Methos frowned, but his hands continued moving smoothly through Marina's hair. "Kowalski? I though your name was Vecchio."

"So did I," Mina sighed, dropping her face back into her hands. "So did I."

Fraser stepped in at this point, unable to stand how hurt both Marina and Ray looked. "Detective Kowalski is currently undercover as Detective Vecchio while the real Ray Vecchio is... elsewhere. There was never any intent to deceive you, Doctor MacLeod," Fraser explained quietly.

"There never is," Mina sighed, lifting her head and meeting Ray's eyes again. "I'm sorry, Ray, that was unfair of me. I've worked undercover, I know what's required."

Her ready forgiveness hurt Ray even more. Unable to deal with it, he took refuge in the case.

"Start at the beginning," Ray said. "Tell us everything."

Methos shot him an incredulous 'are you kidding?' look.

"Do it, Methos," Mina said wearily. "Archangel was right. We have to stop the Hunters. Stop Horton. For everyone's sake, humans and Immortals. And we can't do it without their help."

From Methos' expression, he didn't entirely agree, but he let it go for now. "Where is Salah?" he asked abruptly.

Fraser nodded toward the hall. "He's lying in the hallway listening to our conversation while pretending to still be unconscious."

Methos drew the comb through the smooth flow of Marina's hair one last time and tossed it on the dressing table. "Come on in, Salah," Methos said. "You might as well join the discussion."

"Not here," Mina interrupted, standing up and twining her fingers through Methos' for reassurance. "Let's go to the kitchen. We're all tired and suffering from low blood sugar. Besides," she smiled painfully at Fraser and Ray, her eyes so sad and tired it hurt them to meet her gaze. "It's my turn to cook dinner."

* * *