The first day, she slept. Somehow, with her, regenerations always seemed to have that effect. He was used to it by now, having decided that it was not so much the physical exhaustion that caused her to take to bed, it was the loss of the life she'd enjoyed. Since it no longer worried him, he gave her one of his old shirts to sleep in and let her be. Unsurprisingly, she soon retreated to his bed. Curled up in a deceptively fragile-looking ball, she slept the hours away. As always, he chose not to join her; passing the time instead by sharpening his sword, then hers. He polished both until they gleamed in the light of the setting sun.

That task completed, he busied himself by doing menial tasks until he thought she was ready. Then, he got up and went into the kitchen, getting the stew that simmered on the stove. It was by far the strongest he could make and one that he’d taken with him from his Highland days centuries before. After she slept, she was always ravenously hungry and not that patient. If he wished to keep his head and his hands, he fed her before even attempting so much as a "hello."

He was used to that too. But then, after a few centuries of dealing with her, he’d well learned the lesson of why riling the temper of Caitlin Todd was a dangerous mistake to make.

Scotland, 18th century

“Be silent, woman!” Connor barked in a stage whisper, yanking the slim Immortal down into the mud and shrubs at his side. “Hold your tongue unless you’ve a mind to get us both killed!”

She gave him a mutinous look, whispering back, “They’re nothin’ but a couple of boys, Connor MacLeod, hardly the entire bloody British army and it isn’t as if they’d truly harm either one of us now could they?”

“Aye, but they’ve got a good lot of it hard on their heels.” He shot back with some irritation. “And those soldiers could do a few things to us both neither of us’ll forget very quick.” He clamped a strong hand on her shoulder and held her down as the young scouts ventured closer, betraying their own inexperience at war by the casual way they moved.

Despite the simmering irritation he felt from the woman beside him, Kate - as she preferred to be called - held her peace and waited with him until they’d passed.

But, no sooner had they passed then she turned. It was then that Connor MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod ended up on the receiving end of the clout of his life.

Modern day...

The second day, the anger started and Connor awoke to the slap-thud sounds of flesh striking a punching bag. He didn’t have to look over the railing to know Kate was down in the gym, beating the hell out of the already battered bag. Instead he laid there silently, staring up at the ceiling. He listened to the sounds interspersed with the occasional grunt and incoherent mutterings. Out of her line of sight, Connor felt safe enough to grin with amusement. Kate had often used her small frame to her advantage against Immortal opponents, fooling them into underestimating her. He knew better than to make such a mistake. Packed into that little body was a temper that made even a highlander, such as himself, think twice.

Over the years, he watched Caitlin dispatch more than her fair share of Immortals and he’d done so with great gusto. The moment her opponent realized she wasn’t such an easy mark…it was well worth the fight to see.

Whoever caused her to lose the mortal life she’d been leading in Washington…he almost felt sorry for the poor bastard. If Kate put her mind to it, and he had a feeling this time she would, she’d hunt him down and well...

In those moments, free of the trappings of mortal concerns...

“Wipe the damn smirk off your face, MacLeod,” she called out suddenly, landing a particularly hard hit to the bag, “and get your ass down here.”

Sometimes, the punching bag was not enough, a flesh and blood opponent...

Now that’d do.

France, 1942

“That low down, no good, pathetic...”

The insults and oaths flowed freely from Kate’s lips as she stomped her way through the Paris night, covered in mud and blood. Wisely, Connor gave her a large berth as they walked side by side. She’d worked herself up in to a fine fit. No way was he of a mind to land himself as the convenient target for it.

“I cannot believe he did it, can you?” She spun slightly, walking sideways as she looked at him, all fire and flint. He didn’t dare say she was a damned cute woman when she was angry. He liked his head all nice and still attached to his shoulders, which was where his silence would keep it. “He betrayed us to the Germans - “

“They had his family.” Connor sighed out, the subject bringing nothing but sadness. “He had to try, Caitlin.” He risked a small grin. “Besides, it isn’t as if a few bullets could actually harm you.”

She scowled at him. “No, but reviving in front of the SS would.” He winced at that. Occasionally she did have a point. “Besides, his family is already dead. I knew Yvette...there’s no way she went quietly.”

“Aye.” He nodded at that. “Fought like the devil is most likely, all the good that it did her.”

The change in conversation brought a sad undertone to their words, but Kate wouldn’t be deffered. He could feel the heat of her simmering temper radiating off her as though she were stricken with fever.

“What are you going to do?” He asked finally, knowing the answer before she spoke.

“Pay a little visit to the SS.” Kate smiled unpleasantly. “Let’s see them kill a ghost.”

Modern day...

The third day was again spent in bed. This time, Kate wasn’t alone, and for all the passion which erupted between them, Connor could already feel the change. She had reached the last stage of her process and would be leaving soon. If he was right, she would be leaving in the morning.

Not leaving to start her new life somewhere else, not yet. She’d be different if she were. It would be a subtle difference, but the anger hadn’t truly abated yet. When it truly had, there was a sedate calm about Kate. A calm which had yet to make an appearance.

Even lying beside him, lazy and sated, he could see the tense anticipation that came with the exhilaration of a hunt and make no mistake about it, Caitlin was indeed going hunting.

“When do you leave?”

“The morning.” She rolled to look at him. “Know anyone with connections in the Middle East? Specifically Al Qaeda?”

Connor knew better than to argue the point, but still, he hesitated before nodding once. “I might.”

That made Kate smile and reach for him again.

Tomorrow, she was going hunting.

 

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