"Tell me again, why we're doing this," grumbled Warren as he adjusted his tie.

"Because," supplied Betsy, "Kavik has been here for over a month and we know as much about her now as we did on
that first day. Jean and I thought that a nice relaxed dinner in a neutral setting may help."

Warren nodded in understanding. "Right, the rumour mill."

"Exactly," Jean smiled at her husband. "the only gossip for the rumour mill we've had about Kavik was when we met
her friend David." Jean sighed, "and you *know* how that turned out." Jean thought back to the time a couple of days
after she and Scott had seen Kavik and David in Harry's Hideaway . . .

Jean knocked lightly on the door to Kavik's room. "Come in," came a muffled cry. Jean walked in to find Kavik rifling
through a bag, muttering to herself.

Kavik looked up, "oh, hi Jean."

Jean smiled. "I brought you this to put in here. I wasn't sure how much stuff you'd have and I thought it would
brighten the room up." Jean held out the plant she was holding.

"Thanks." Kavik took the plant off Jean and placed in on the top of a chest of drawers, where it was in the sunlight.

"There you go, little one," she said softly.

Jean looked over to the bed to what Kavik had removed from her bag. It was some framed photos. "May I?" Jean asked, motioning to the pictures.

"Be my guest," Kavik pulled some water out of the air and watered the plant before she walked over to join Jean.� Jean looked at the photos. The first was of Kavik and four men in a bar. Kavik walked over and began to explain who they were. "That's Adam," she said, pointing to the tall, lean young man with his arm over Kavik's shoulder. Jean recognised the name as that of the mutual friend Kavik and David had mentioned. Kavik then pointed to the youngest in the photo, a red headed young man, no more than 19, "Richie." Next came the older man, the one leaning on a cane with the grey peppered hair, "Joe. He owns the bar the picture was taken in," she explained before pointed to the last man in the photo. Jean's eyes raked over the man, a sculpted god with a mane of dark hair tied in a pony tail. Kavik noticed the slightly flushed look on Jean's face and smiled. "That's Duncan, and don't worry, Mac has that effect on a lot of people."

Jean shook herself out of her thoughts, "Mac?"

"Duncan's nickname," Kavik said, "his surname's MacLeod."

"Any relation?" Jean asked as Kavik placed the photo next to the plant.

A slight smile crossed Kavik's face as she replied, "distantly. Very distantly."

Jean picked up the next photo and handed it to Kavik. It was one of Kavik and Adam. The third was of Kavik,
Duncan and another man. The second man was leaner than Duncan, with short brown hair and sparkling eyes.

"That's Connor," said Kavik.

Jean looked at the background of the picture. Green hills, with a lake and castle in the distance. "Where was it taken?"
"Just outside of Glenfinnan." At Jean's confused look Kavik continued. "It's a small village in Scotland."

The final photo was of Kavik and two others. One man Jean recognised as David, but she didn't know the second. The two men were in tuxedoes and Kavik was wearing a cocktail dress.

"That was taken at David's wedding," Kavik explained.

Jean felt the gossip for the rumour mill slip away at the knowledge that David was married, an affair.> Jean noticed the trees in the background of the picture. "Palm trees?"

"They got married in Hawaii. The other one in the photo's Michael."

"His best man?"

Kavik snorted softly. "No, his husband."

"Oh." <*Not* having an affair then.> . . .

"Who indeed?" Scott muttered.

Saturday, 7:01 PM

Picking the black silk wrap off the bed, Kavik draped it around her shoulders. she thought as she checked herself out in the mirror. The black, strapless dress had just the right amount of elegance for the restaurant they were going to. A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and Remy stepped into the room.

"I'm impressed," commented Kavik as she saw the tuxedo Remy was wearing.

Gambit smiled. "Y' ready?"

"Lead on, my prince," muttered Kavik as she walked out of the room. As they walked down the stairs, Kavik was aware of the coolness of the dagger she had strapped to her thigh.

Saturday, 7:06 PM

Rogue watched as Scott ushered the others out of the door. Blinking away the tears that sprang to her eyes, she slumped against the wall. The words she had said to Kavik that first weekend ran through her mind: 'Ah don't think that ah love him. Ah think that ah was just flattered that he paid attention ta me.' Rogue thought to herself, Rogue sighed. Rogue's thought were disturbed by the sound of someone walking up the stairs. Not wanting to be seen, Rogue quickly flew to her room and shut the door. Sitting at her dressing table, she stared at her reflection. "Admit it, why would anyone want ya?" Rogue said to the image
staring out from the mirror. "Ya can't touch anyone unless ya standing unda that Z'Noxx Chamber thing, ya'll nevah be able ta touch him-" Rogue's voice trailed off as she remembered the words Destiny had once said to her when she was younger, "We can't do everything alone, Rogue. Admitting we need help isn't a weakness." Destiny's voice was overlaid by Mystique's, "It doesn't matter *how* we get what we want, as long as we get it." Rogue thought with a chuckle. It felt strange after all these years to associate Mystique with 'the good guys'. But she was with X-Factor and sort of with Forge... Rogue's eyes widened as she thought of the shaman. Jumping out of her chair and running
out of the room, Rogue flew to the communications room. Dialling X-Factor's headquarters at Fall's Edge, Rogue waited to someone to answer. Within a few seconds the screen flickered to life and Rogue found herself looking at a tall green-haired woman.

"Hey, Rogue, what's up?" Lorna Dane asked with a smile.

"Nothin' much," answered Rogue. "Ah was wonderin' if ah could speak ta Forge?"

"Yeah sure, I'll just call him." Lorna flicked a switch off screen and spoke into the intercom. "Forge, there's a call for
you."

"I'll be right up." Rogue heard the muffled voice over the screen.� Rogue and Lorna chatted until Forge walked into X-
Factor's communications room.

"I'll leave you to it," Lorna said, walking out of the room.

"Rogue, what can I do for you?" Forge asked softly. "Is it about Mystique?"

"No, it's not about Mystique." Rogue looked straight at Forge. "Ah was hopin' ya could do me a favour."

Saturday, 7:27 PM

The limousine Warren had hired for the evening pulled up outside of 'Conchetta's', an expensive Italian restaurant that
had just recently opened. The six X-Men got out of the car and walked into the restaurant.

"And how much is this place costing?" Scott asked.

Warren smiled and patted his pocket. "Don't worry, it's covered." He turned to the maitre d'. "We have a table
booked."

"Your name, sir?" The words were perfect English with the barest hint of an Italian accent.

"Worthington."

The maitre d' checked off the booking and escorted the group to their table. "Your waiter will be along shortly."

"Thank you," nodded Warren.

A few minutes later, a waiter came over to the table and took their orders. After pouring six glasses of wine, he left
them to their conversation.

"So,
when you came, so there's no point in moaning about it now.> "I don't have any family."

"What about that man in the photo in your room?" Jeanasked.

"Which one, Connor or Duncan?" Kavik wasn't sure which MacLeod Jean was referring to.

"I was thinking about Duncan. Why, is Connor family as well?"

"Connor and Duncan are clansmen. They were both bornin a Scottish village named Glenfinnan. It's Connor I'm
related to."

"You don't *sound* Scottish," remarked Scott.

Kavik smiled. "That's because I'm not."

"But your name-?"

Kavik took a deep breath. "MacLeod is my married name."

Four of the people around the table looked at Kavik in shock. Remy had already heard about William MacLeod,
the man Kavik had married.

"You're *married*?" Betsy said incredulously.

"I was."

"What happened?" Jean asked. "If it's not too personal."

"William was Connor's cousin. We met, fell in love, and got married."

"Let me guess," Scott interrupted. "You discovered you were too young to settle down and decided to go your separate ways."

He hadn't noticed that Kavik had referredto him in the past tense.

Kavik's eyes narrowed. "Actually, William died."

"Oh," said Scott quietly.

"I'm sorry," Jean said, wincing at her husband's tactlessness.

Kavik smiled. "It was a few years ago now."

"How did he die?" Betsy asked softly.

"It was an accident. When he died, I left Glenfinnan. I travelled
for a while," "and eventually ended up in the States."

The conversation was interrupted by the waiter bringing their meal over. After he had left, the conversation went
back to general topics.

**I don't want to bring up any bad memories,** Jean telepathically said to Betsy.

**Agreed.**

Saturday, 9:32 PM

"What now?" Scott asked, once Warren's credit card had been returned.

Kavik smiled. "Well, since dinner was you're idea, I thought I'd return the favour. I got us tickets to the opening of the Carletta Exhibition."

Warren whistled. "How did you manage that? I tried for weeks to get tickets to the opening and they kept telling me
that it was invitation only." Miguel Carletta was an exceedingly excellent and talented artist. The opening to his exhibition was the most exclusive event happening in New York.

"It is," Kavik answered. "I already had a couple of tickets as Mig's an old friend of mine. I just rang and asked if he'd
mind me bringing some friends along."

"An old friend?" Remy queried softly. "How old?"

"A couple of centuries," came the quiet reply.

The six X-Men reached St. Anthony's, an old abandoned church which Carletta had restored in order to show his latest work. It was well known among the art community that showing his exhibition's on Holy Ground was a quirk of Carletta's. Kavik gave her name to the doorman and the group were allowed inside. As they walked into the main exhibition area Kavik felt the Presence of another Immortal.� Her eyes were drawn to a tall, olive skinned man and she smiled.

"Mig, it's been a while."

Miguel Carletta swept her into a embrace, "Too long, caramia."

After introductions to the rest of the group, Miguel was dragged away to mingle with his other guests by his assistant.� The X-men began wandering about, looking at the various works on display.

"Kavik, isn't that David?" Jean was looking at a blond in a tuxedo.

Kavik looked over to where Jean was motioning. Her eyes fell on a tall, dark haired man talking to her Watcher.� The man looked over and caught Kavik's gaze. With a smile, he waved her over.

"Excuse me," Kavik said to the other X-Men, before she walked over to her Watcher and his lover.

Scott couldn't believe the prices that were being asked for the pieces. He stopped next to a sculpture cast in bronze. It
was of two people fighting with swords, energy crackling about them.

"That is one of the pieces Miguel is most proud of," came� a voice behind him.� Scott turned to see a striking dark skinned man standing next to him.

"I

"Pleased to meet you," Scott shook Jack's hand.

"I see you know Kavik," commented Jack.

"Yes, she joined our institute a few weeks ago."

Jack nodded. "The Xavier Institute, yes, I know." At� Scott's glance, Jack explained further. "I needed to know where to send the tickets."

"Oh," smiled Scott.

"So, how are you enjoying the exhibition so far?" Jack asked.

"It's very good," Scott replied. "Some of the pieces on display are unbelievable."

Jack nodded his head in acknowledgement. They were interrupted by another man who said something to Jack. "I'm
afraid I'm needed elsewhere. Please, enjoy the rest of the exhibition."

Kavik walked up to her Watcher, David Mitchell, and his lover, Michael Halliwell. "What are you two doing here?"
She asked.

"Carletta's Watcher is one of his assistants. He couldn't make it, so he gave the tickets to us," explained Michael.� Michael was also a member of the Watchers. However, unlike his field agent husband, Michael was one of the researchers in the organisation.

"How long have you been here?" David asked.

"We just arrived," answered Kavik. "I haven't even had a chance to look at any of the exhibition."

David and Michael looked at each other with an indecipherable look on their faces.

"What?" Kavik looked from her Watcher to his lover and back again. Neither of them answered. "Guys, what's going on."

"I think there's something you should see," said Michael as he took Kavik's arm and began to steer her to one of the exhibitions.

**Scott, you have *got* to see this painting,** Jean's voice rang in his head. Taking a last look at the bronzed battle, Scott walked over to where Jean, Betsy and Warren were standing looking at a painting. It showed two people in bed together, the sheet showing the outline of legs entwined, the rise of the woman's chest and a hint of the man's arousal under the sheet. The aura of sex emanating from the picture was almost palpable. The morning sun shining in through a window glinted off two swords that were lying by the bed. The man was awake and softly outlining the trace of the body of his companion. Scott's eyes were drawn to the face of the woman.

"Oh my God, that's Kavik!" He exclaimed.

"I wonder who the guy is?" Warren wondered.

Jean looked closer, ever since she had seen the man's face pangs of recognition had hit her. "Adam!" She said suddenly.

"Excuse me?" Betsy looked at her.

"The man is Adam. There's a couple of photos of him and Kavik in her room."

Scott looked closer at the picture. He recognised one of the swords as the katana Kavik owned, if he looked close
enough he could even make out the wolf carving on the handle. The other sword was flatter, straighter.

"Well, this is *definitely* fodder for the mansion rumour mill," noted Betsy dryly.

"I see you have found the jewel of the exhibition," a deep Spanish voice came from behind.

"Is that really Kavik?" Betsy asked the artist.

Carletta nodded. "In a way."

"What do you mean?"

"The painting was not posed for, but yes, it *is* Kavik."

Carletta explained further at Scott's confused look. "The facets of the relationship between Kavik and Adam are many and deep. This you can see just by looking at them together. The first time I saw them together I knew I had to capture it on canvas. Their eyes betray the depth of their feelings. They are both friends and lovers and yet the relationship is both more and less."

"Oh my!" A startled voice interrupted them. They all turned to see Kavik flanked by two men. Jean recognised David from the time they had met in Harry's Hideaway and the other as his lover, Michael.

"Nice picture, Mig," said Kavik, one eyebrow raised.

A grin slowly spread across Carletta's face. "I painted it for you, and only you."

"What do you mean?" Warren asked.

"The painting is a gift," explained Miguel. "It is only on display for tonight. Tomorrow, it will be delivered to it's rightful owner." He nodded in Kavik's direction.

"Miguel, thank you. It's beautiful." Kavik couldn't stop a smile from spreading as she looked at the painting of her and Methos and her thoughts drifted to the oldest Immortal. He had turned up back at Watcher Headquarters two weeks earlier, citing 'an unavoidable and immediate family emergency' as the reason that he had gone missing for nearly four months. It was the truth, in a round about way. Ghosts from a very ugly time in Methos' past had turned up and nearly destroyed his future. It had only ended with the deaths of three men that Methos had called 'brother'; one of them at his own hand, and all three engineered by Methos.� Although he hadn't admitted it, Kavik knew that the reason he had planned the downfall of the Horsemen was Duncan MacLeod. Methos had been lost to the Highlander as soon as he had met him. Duncan was the only Immortal apart
from Kavik that Methos truly had let into his life in the past two thousand years. And now their friendship lay in ruins - a
victim of Methos' past and Duncan's moral upbringing.� Kavik's smile faded slightly as she thought of the oldest Immortal and the Highlander. she berated herself,

The group around the painting soon broke up to look at other areas of the exhibition and Kavik found herself with
David and Michael again.

"Are you *sure* there are no other Watchers here?" Kavik asked.

"Positive," assured Michael. "We're the only ones, and we both know what Adam is." The Watcher known as Adam Pierson had told Michael that he was actually an Immortal soon after David found out. Both David and Michael were Watchers and Adam felt that it would have been unfair to ask David to lie to his husband about something as important as this. Adam had reasoned that it was easier to tell him, and, as David has said, 'Mike's a Watcher and he would have figured out something was up sooner or later'. The only thing Michael didn't know was that Adam was actually Methos, the oldest living Immortal. Kavik breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank the Gods. If any of the others had seen that then Adam's cover as a Watcher would have been blown."

"True, the fact that there are *two* swords on the floor is a bit of a give-away," noted David.

"Hell, even if the swords weren't in the picture, I can still see the gossip that would have circulated around Watcher Headquarters," smiled Michael. "I can see Martha now, 'And would somebody like to tell me *why* there is a painting showing one of our researchers in bed with an Immortal hanging in the Carletta exhibition?'" Michael mimicked the accent of Martha Collins, one of the department heads in the Watchers.

Kavik laughed and shook her head. "It *is* a beautiful painting," she said as they walked over to another part of the
exhibition.