~ chapter 2 ~

"Elizabeth Anne Parker, I thought you were my friend!" Maria's voice followed Liz into her overly-spacious suite in the west wing of the massive castle.

A bright smile spread over Liz's face as her eyes took in every detail of the room that was to be hers for the next month. From the moment she set eyes on Dunvegan Castle's round turrets and thick stone walls she felt an odd sense of familiarity come over her. Walking through the halls, that same sense followed her, growing with each coat of arms she saw hung firmly against a wall or crossed swords that gave testament to centuries of warrior kinsmen fighting for their cause. The family portraits that hung gallantly along the long corridors seemed to reach out in welcome as their eyes watched her trek through the main rooms of the grand estate.

But it was here, in this room, that the feeling of familiarity erupted into a sense of awed deja'vu. From the velvety ceiling-to-floor tapestries that hung at the sides of the wall-length windows to the large mahogany canopy bed even to the grand portraits and landscapes adorning the walls the decor was classically modern in style but that wasn't what spoke to Liz.

It was the essence of the room. The history that it's walls had seen. Lives that had been lived in this magic haven. Tears cried. Love given and received. Promises kept and smiles shared. She felt it all. The moment she stepped into her room.

"Wow!" Liz's awed voice bounced off the high ceilings as she slowly turned in the middle of the room. "This is absolutely…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. It's amazing. Fantastic. Splendid. And all those other words you artsy types like to use." Maria waved her hand wildly in the air then brought it to rest on her chest. "But can we get back to me now? And what a traitor you are?"

Liz's eyes blinked in confusion as she finally turned to her friend. "Traitor? Maria, what are you talking about?"

"Duh! What else?" Maria put her hands on her hips. "Liz. Babe. You talked to him."

"Who?" Liz asked then her eyes brightened with understanding. "Oh. Michael."

"No. Not *Michael*…" Maria's voice raised in irritation as she spoke Michael's newly-dubbed name with vehemence. "Neanderthal."

Liz's chuckled filled the room. "Come on, Maria. He's not that bad."

"Not that bad?" Her volume raised ten decibels. "NOT THAT BAD? Liz…he told me to shut up! I mean, the words 'shut up' actually came out of his pouty-lipped mouth! How could you even think about talking to him after that?"

Liz shrugged her shoulders and turned toward the large armoire at the end of the room. "Why not? I wasn't the one he told to shut up. Besides, it good to finally have another artist to talk to." Liz opened the doors and whistled. "They've already unpacked for me…"

Maria crossed her arms in front of her, Liz's calmness deflating most of her anger. "Like I said…traitor." Her green eyes watched with a bit of envy as Liz slowly made her way around the room getting lost somewhere in the past. Liz had a way of doing that. Losing herself in things. Her paintings. The beauty of a day. The feeling of a moment.

It was at those times that Maria, as much as she loved her best friend, felt a pang of jealousy for the peace that Liz was able to find. It was a peace that seemed to allude Maria. No matter how hard she tried to reach out and grasp it.

Maria shook herself from her reverie when she heard Liz's gasp of awe. "My God, Maria! Look at this view!" Maria headed toward the large windows on the opposite wall. Actually, the windows *were* the wall. They reached from the ceiling to the floor and almost took up the whole wall space allowing light to filter through the filmy sheer curtains to completely illuminate the room.

The sight that greeted Maria did something few things in her life had ever done. It silenced her.

High in the azure sky, a patch of clouds hung low over the dark, smooth, mirrored waters of Loch Dunvegan. Beginning its descent into sleep, the radiant golden sun was held captive in the distance behind the puff of graying cotton-like mist. Casting wave upon wave of auburn and violet throughout the sky, the giant ball's ray-like fingers reached across the miles to wrap it's warmth around Liz's heart.

Liz closed her eyes and smiled as she drank in the feeling of the moment. The energy of this place. The magic of the room. So much peace and beauty. So much effortless emotion wrapped up in the simplicity of a sunset. It brought tears to her eyes and a song to her heart.

That's when she heard it...the call. The call that gently whispered she'd been here before. That these misty waters were familiar territories. The brilliant sunsets a bygone pastime. And then she felt it...the presence all around her. Washing over her and filling her with the a sense of belonging she'd never known before. Her skin tingled with a new energy as she felt a jolt of excitement and contentment spread through her.

Slowly opening her eyes once more, unwilling to miss a moment more of the sunset, Liz let out a sigh. "It's amazing isn't it?"

Maria nodded. "Heck of a lot better than Roswell, I can tell you that right now."

"No, Maria. I mean...I feel..."

Maria's eyes came to rest on her friend as Liz struggled to find the words to describe what the moment meant to her. "I feel...whole somehow. In a way I've never felt before. Like I've found something I've been missing all of my life. Don't you feel..." She paused unable to find the right words. "I don't know, Maria. I feel like something is waiting for me here. Like my life is about to change. It's in the air around me. Pulling me in. Making me...want more. Like I'm suddenly possessed...in a good way." Liz's eyes shifted to Maria. "Does that sound crazy?"

Maria shook her head. "No. Not for you. And not to me."

Liz cracked a smile. "What do you mean, 'not for me'?"

Maria turned back to the window, uncharacteristically serious. "Because you're a dreamer, Liz. You're special. Your creative soul can't help but feed off of this place with it's scenery and mystic tales. You love the idea of losing yourself in the past and bringing what you found back to the rest of us...in your paintings. You won't rest until the things you see around you are forever captured on a canvass."

Liz nodded once in understanding and grinned. "Then what did you mean...'not to you'?"

"I meant..." Linking her arm through Liz's Maria bumped her playfully letting her other hand fly wildly in front of her. "...*I* may understand where you're coming from but I wouldn't go around talking about being possessed, ok? I mean, think about it, babe. We're in Scotland for pete's sake. They might like drag you out to the town square and stone you or something."

A moment of silence followed where Liz and Maria stared out the window in contemplation then back at each other. They both shook their heads at the same time. "Nah!" The simultaneously spoken word cause both girls to burst into laughter that only died down when they heard someone behind them clear their throat.

Liz and Maria spun to face the door and saw Isabel standing with her hands clasped in front of her and a frown on her lovely face. "And just what do you think you're laughing about?"

Liz and Maria shared a glance. "Oh, Maria here was just filling me in on all of the wonderful things she picked up about Michael."

Maria's mouth dropped open and she hit Liz on the arm. "You take that back, you little liar!"

"Hey, now, now. Before you two get started…" Isabel stepped into the room with a big smile. "I just wanted to check and make sure you two like your rooms. Because you know if you don't…"

Liz and Maria hastened to put Isabel's fear to rest. Isabel smiled. "Good. Now that that is settled, I also came to let you know that dinner will be in the Hall of Council in about 30 minutes so if you want to change or freshen up now's the time to do it."

"The Hall of Council?" Liz asked her eyes growing wide with excitement.

Isabel chuckled. "Yeah, but don't ask me why it's called that. The history of this place is Max's department. You can ask him at dinner."

"Oh, good." Maria piped up. "We'll finally get to meet that brother you've told us so much about."

Rolling her eyes Isabel nodded. "That is if he doesn't get caught up in some business spreadsheet." Isabel and Maria exchanged glances. "BORING!" Then burst into laughter.

Liz chuckled then spoke up in Max's defense. "Hey, he can't be all that boring if he takes in interest in the history of a place like this."

"Guess not." Isabel shrugged and turned to head for the door. "You guys can find out at dinner. Oh and Liz, you'll be interested to know this since you love history so much. Max suggested you get this room because it used to belong to one of the more famous MacLeod girls, Elizabeth Anne MacLeod. Apparently she was quite a rebel. If I remember right Max said her story comes complete with revenge, honor and a dashing knight or something like that."

"Hey! That sounds more up my alley. So why'd Lizzie get the room?" Maria asked in mock offense.

Isabel laughed it off. "The reason Max suggested Liz have the room is because everyone called her Lizzie. Everyone, that is, except her secret lover, Ian Maxwell MacKinnon."

"Really? What did he call her?" Liz's eyes lit up with interest as she looked around her room once more.

"I don't know." Isabel shrugged. "I'm not sure anyone does."

"Well, I guess I'll have to get the scoop on this Lizzie from your brother at dinner then." Liz answered with a smile.

"He'll be more than willing to share. He loves this stuff." Isabel nodded to Maria. "You ready, chica?"

"Sure am." Maria smiled at Liz before she turned to go. "Oh, and Isabel. About this whole Michael thing. You know, Liz really is lying…"

Liz chuckled as she watched her friends walk out the door. Letting out a deep sigh, Liz turned once more and breathed in the atmosphere swirling around her. This was going to be good. This trip. This time away from…

A knock on the door broke Liz's silent approval of her surrounding and she turned to head toward the door. Flinging it open she was surprised to find the corridor empty. Liz shrugged her shoulders and almost turned away when her eyes fell on a large white box on the floor in front of her door. She stuck her head out the door and looked both ways down the hall to see if she could catch the disappearing delivery person. Not seeing anyone, she picked up the box then carried it inside.

It was a large rectangle box and was difficult for Liz to carry because of its weight, but she finally made it over to her bed and plopped it down. Opening the top she flung it off to the side and moved the white tissue back to reveal dark blue velvet material. Liz gingerly touched the material and smiled at the feel of it beneath her fingers. It was so soft. So smooth.

Releasing it from its parcel, Liz gasped as she pulled out the most beautiful antique dress she'd ever seen. It's fitted velvet bodice was trimmed with antique handmade lace and beads. Pearls and other small gems adorned the scooped neckline and armbands just under the short puffed sleeves. The sleeves and long flowing skirt were made of the deepest blue satin. Almost the color of midnight. Attached to the shoulders and sweeping down the back of the gown was a stream of sheer cloth that shimmered in the evening light from the windows.

A wide grin spread over Liz's lips and she squealed with joy as she gently laid the gown across the bed. Glancing at the clock on the night stand, Liz quickly calculated that she had enough time to try the dress on and still get ready for dinner. That way she could thank Isabel for the gift and tell her how much she loved it even though she really wouldn't be able to wear it anywhere but here. In magical Scotland. For, Isabel must have been the one who left it for Liz. Only she and Maria would know her size and taste…

Quickly removing her clothes, Liz slipped into the gown allowing it to slide over her soft skin. She marveled at how perfectly it fit every curve and every line of her body. Slowly walking to the full length mirror in the corner of the room, Liz took in her appearance with a delighted laugh. Her cheeks were rosy with excitement. Her eyes were bright with happiness. Her hair…

Liz swept her hair up on the top of her head and fastened it loosely with the ornate clip-like comb she'd found at the bottom of the box. Pulling a few trendils of hair loose to dance around her face, Liz turned three times in front of the mirror, getting used to the weight of the material. The sound as it swished against the floor. The feel of the beads as she ran her hands down the bodice.

Stopping abruptly when she caught her beautifully exquisite reflection in the mirror once more, Liz tilted her head to the side and listened. Listened to the voice. Calling her to come. "Come tae me, me love. I am waitin' for ya. Come. You've been awa too long..."

Eyes dazed with anticipation and joy, Liz turned and followed the voice as it led her out of her room to their place. The place where promises were never broken…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"God, how can you stand it here on this God-forsaken island?" Tess' voice called out to Max as he stared out the window. She walked into the large, dark library and plopped down on a burgundy leather-covered divan. "The men wear skirts, the food is drab and the people don't talk proper English."

Max let out a sigh, dropped the heavily brocaded curtain he had pulled back to watch the sunset and turned toward Tess with an annoyed look as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. The one moment of the day that always brought him peace no matter what crazy things were happening to him and it had been interrupted. Rudely and unceremoniously.

Normally, he wouldn't mind seeing Tess. She was his girlfriend, after all. But lately, even before his sojourn to Scotland, Max felt that they had been drifting apart. Then again, is it really drifting apart if you sometimes feel that you never even got on the same boat?

Max had come to know Tess through Michael, her adopted brother. Michael and Max, though completely different in personality became fast friends their freshman year at Columbia. Maybe it was because of their differences that they made such good friends or maybe it was the instant connection that came with shared questions of an unknown past. Of being adopted.

Isabel, too, understood the uncertainties of not knowing your real parents, where you came from. She and Max were natural twins that had never known a day without the other in their lives. Years earlier when the Evans went to the adoption agency looking for one child to call their own they never dreamed they'd leave with two. But they had. It was fate, Diane Evans always told Max and Isabel. The moment she and Phillip laid eyes on the twins sitting in a corner holding each other's hand, they knew those two precious children belonged with them. As much as the Evans' loved their children and Michael and Tess' parents loved Michael, it was still refreshing for the three of them to have someone to turn to who would understand.

After becoming friends, Max and Isabel had invited Michael and his sister, Tess, to their home for spring break one year. That's when Max and Tess first met. There had been an instant attraction. More on her part than on his. Max had always been partial to brunettes so the curly blonde-haired Tess was a surprise. Not that she owned him heart and soul. No. No one had ever done that.

But she was fun to be with and since the pairing seemed to 'fit' their group dynamics, Max and Tess had been dating off and on since they met. The 'off time' usually included semester separations. She attended UCLA on the West coast and they had decided it was better to leave their options open with so much distance between them. Now that Max had graduated and was taking a bit of time to consider his career options, this happened to be one of their 'on' times.

And it was killing him. As a group, they were fine. Everyone got along. The jokes flowed easily. But with Tess alone…well, things weren't as rosy as she liked to make them sound to their respective parents. Tess just didn't hold what little interest he did have any more. Or maybe it was all of the crazy things that had been happening to him lately. Either way, he felt big changes looming on the horizon.

Realizing his mind had once again drifted while in Tess' presence as it often tended to do when they were alone, Max brought his thoughts back to her earlier complaints. When he spoke, his voice was edged with boredom and irritation. "They're called kilts, add salt, and why should they talk 'proper English' when they *aren't* English? Ask any one of them and they'll make that pretty plain to you."

Heading toward his desk, Max slipped into his seat, shuffled a few papers around and glared at the monitor screen sitting near the edge of his desk. His gaze shifted back and forth between the papers on his desk and the monitor in front of him as he began to enter numbers into his newly devised table for tracking recent expenditures continuing his thought as if his movements had never broken it. "The Scots are rather touchy about that point, in fact. Not that I blame them. They have been treated rather horribly by the English in the past with the Clearances and the…"

Tess let out an exaggerated groan. "Stop. Please stop. I didn't come in here for the latest lesson on Scottish culture or history."

"Then why did you come in here?" Max asked dryly as he ran his finger down a spreadsheet looking for a particular purchase.

Tess blinked in surprise and tried to keep the tone of hurt out of her voice, but didn't quite succeed. "Call me crazy, but I thought it would be nice to spend the evening alone with my boyfriend."

Max glanced up briefly when he heard the edge in her voice and shook his head. "Sorry. No can do. Iz is bringing her friends in tonight." He leaned back in his chair his eyes trained on the clock in front of him. "In fact, they should be here any moment. If you want to join us, we're all having a late dinner at eight in the Hall of Council..."

"Hall of Council." Another sigh accompanied Tess' mumble. "Why don't you just call it the dinning room?"

Suddenly, it happened. The strangest feeling came over Max. It was different from the other strange feelings he'd experience recently. It was strong. Undeniable. And it came from deep within him. As if he were changing. Deep inside. Being filled. Content. Whole. Becoming…more.

It was her. She was near. In his soul. In his head. And she wasn't crying this time like in his dreams. She was…at peace. Or was it something else? Someone else?

Max's head snapped to the side when a drawer to his desk suddenly flew open and slammed shut of its own will. Alarm flitted across his face and he glanced around him quickly for any other telling signs that his ghost was in attendance. "That's not what it is." Max shook his head answering his own question absently and trying to divert attention from his actions as he reached for the drawer and yanked on it hoping its earlier movement was a figment of his imagination. It didn't budge.

Ok, Evans. Deep breath. It was just a false alarm. That drawer probably hasn't opened since the eighteenth century. It was all just your imagination... Max nodded his agreement to his inner thoughts and let out a sigh of relief.

Until Tess spoke.

Tess' head had shot up when she heard the force with which she thought Max had opened and slammed the drawer. "Well, you don't have to get testy about it. You know sometimes I think the worst thing that ever happened to you was coming to this dreary place. You've gotten so..."

Max ignored her as he watched with wide eyes while an invisible force depressed letters on his keyboard. His amber eyes shifted to his monitor to watch as the eerie message spelled itself out. "T-a-l-k"

"What the...? Alright, Casper. Is that you or me we're talking about talking here?" Max muttered under his breath to his unseen visitor. He felt a sudden chill go through his hand as if someone--or in his case something--had grabbed hold of it. The white screen began to fill with more letters.

"I-t-i-s-t-i-m-e"

"Itistime?" Max's brows furrowed in confusion. A grandfather clock in the hall began chiming it's half-hourly song to the tune of seven-thirty. Max's eyes widened in realization. "It is time."

His eyes shifted back and forth and he absently uttered another question to his unknown assailant. "It is time for what?"

"Max? Who are you talking to?" Tess' voice pulled Max back to the present just as a gust of wind suddenly blew the window he'd previously vacated open sending sheer curtains fluttering into the room and a whisper to his ear. "Talk alone."

Eyes flashing with sudden understanding, Max pushed back from his desk and jumped up to close the window. Once secured, he turned to face Tess. Her blue eyes were wide with surprise and her voice shook slightly. "Max? What…is going on?"

Max forced a smile and headed toward her with arms open. "It's nothing. Just a loose latch. I'll have to get James to fix that." Taking her by the hands, Max pulled her from the divan and wrapped an arm around her waist while guiding Tess speedily to the door. "Now, if you're going to join us for dinner at eight, I suggest you go change for our guests…"

Tess turned at the door and wrapped her arms around Max's neck with a slight pout. "I really wanted it to just be the two of us tonight." Her hand ran down the side of his face to rest on the top button of his shirt. "You know, it's been forever since we've just had a night alone…"

Max smiled weakly and wrapped his hand around hers to still it's constant flutter. "I know. I've just been really busy lately…"

"Is it another woman?" Tess asked suddenly, her crystal blue eyes turned up towards him imploringly.

Max blinked in surprise. Where had that come from? "Another woman? Don't be ridiculous. Of course, there's not another woman, Tess." Max didn't add the reason why it *wasn't* another woman was because all of the women he'd seen since landing on this beautiful island were either dead with pictures hanging in portraits on the castle walls, staff that was so old he took their tales of the Middle Ages as *first* hand experience stories or…that haunting dark-haired woman from his dreams.

Apparently his answer appeased Tess because she smiled brightly, leaned up and kissed him quickly on the lips. She ran her hands lightly down his chest as she pulled away. "Good. Because I'd really hate to have to duel someone over you."

"Don't worry about it." Max chuckled lightly and held the door open further to signal the end of their private time together. "I'll see you in a bit." Max waved good-bye and shut the door behind Tess, correcting the mistake he made earlier and locked it.

Warily, he took a step into the room and stopped looking around him. "Alright. We're alone now. You wanted to talk. So talk."

Silence filled the room as Max stood stiff and still…waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

Frustrated, Max shook his head and rolled his eyes. He began mumbling to himself as he headed back to his desk. "Fine. You want to haunt me with no purpose then pull a stunt like that…fine. At least it got Tess out of here and for that I'm actually grateful."

Max pushed his chair back and crouched to sit down when he heard the voice.

"It is time."

In mid-air, Max paused. Putting his hands on his desk palm down he let out a sigh. "Got that one already. Now would you like to tell me what the hell it's time for?" He'd never felt more foolish speaking into nothingness, but there didn't seem to be a point in trying to deny it any more.

He was being chosen for something. What? He had no idea. So he figured the only way to find out…was to ask. Max let out another sigh as he stared down at his desk while silence once more filled the room. "Ok, Casper. Here's the deal. In about one minute I'm walking back out that door to get ready for dinner. Which means you have one minute to tell me what the hell you want from me. Or I'm…I'm not going to see you again."

Or I'm not going to see you again? Like you can see him now. Max groaned inwardly. Real smooth, Max. Threaten a ghost with a non-threat.

Somehow--it worked.

"Come."

Max's head shot up. "Come where?"

"Come. It is time."

Max's voice was low with aggravation. He'd only asked this question now like a *million* times. Well, at least it *felt* that way. "Time for what?"

"She is waiting for you."

For the first time, Max didn't question. He nodded and closed his eyes to let out a deep sigh of relief before allowing himself to be instinctively lead by the heart out the door, through the long halls and large rooms of the castle till his shoulder pushed open the door that lead to the grounds. He no longer heard the voice. He didn't need to. He knew exactly where he was supposed to be…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Max pulled up abruptly when he saw her. Her back was to him. Her blue satin gown was almost silver in the moonlight, the filmy material at the back shimmering like tiny diamond flecks. Her hair was caught up in an ornate comb allowing her creamy neck to stand out in stark contrast to her soft raven locks. Her dark head bowed in tears…in thought…in prayer. He couldn't tell. At one time he would have known. Without one word he could have read the language of her body and known precisely what to expect when she turned to face him.

But now. Now, she'd been gone…for so long. To some it was two fortnights. Only a mere 28 days. To him, it had been an eternity. Torture. Hell.

That's how one feels when their heart and soul are ripped away and in their place are laid endless days of back-breaking work. Nights of perpetual sleeplessness. Moments between when the only comfort he owned was the images he conjured up in his mind. Images of her smile. Her laugh. Her eyes as they looked into his. But it was all over now. She was home.

He was…alive again.

Her raven head shot up when his foot moved breaking a twig beneath its weight. She was smiling. He could tell by the tilt of her head. The bend of her shoulders. The soft lilt of her voice carried her love to him on the wind. "I was beginnin' tae lose hope that ye were comin' to meet me at all."

"Ye ken better, Brenna. I'll alway come fer ye."

"Swear it." Her voice held a note of challenge as her head turned sideways so he could see her perfect profile.

The white of his teeth shone in the darkness as his soft promise warmed the air between them. "Aye, lass. Ye ken I swear it over and over again…"

Spinning to face him, her face broke into a radiant smile as her eyes danced under the moonlight. "Aye, Ian. So do I…"