See Part One for Full Disclaimers and Author's Note.

- Five -

"Rhea," Joe said patiently, "this is getting ridiculous."  The younger Watcher gave him weary look and Joe sighed and came closer to where she sat on the stage, carefully tuning her violin.  "I haven't seen you eat a full meal in three days.  You obviously aren't sleeping well..."

"I'm used to it."  Rhea forced a chuckle and gave him a reassuring glance.  "Look, my room is next to the ice-machine, that's all."

Joe scowled at her.  "That isn't all and you and I both know it," he said firmly.  "I know you like Claudia, but you don't have to worry about her.  She's training with MacLeod.  She'll be fine."

"If she doesn't decide the sword-work ruins her hands for the piano," she said sourly, half to herself.

Joe couldn't help a smile; knowing Claudia, it wouldn't have surprised him.  "She's made it this far."  Rhea muttered something.  Joe's eyes widened.  She did not just say what I think she just said.  "What?"

Rhea looked up at him, brown eyes first startled, then wary and shuttered.  "Nothing."  She turned back to her violin.

Joe reached down and took it from her, not entirely gently.  "Not nothing," he said, his jaw set.  "What did you say?"

Rhea glared at him, then sighed.  "I said that that's why I'm used to not getting any sleep."

Joe's mouth firmed further; he had genuinely liked Rhea.  Until now.  "I know she's a diva, and she can be a royal pain in the ass," he said stiffly, his eyes narrowing, "but if I think you're heading anywhere towards James Horton's camp, Larrabee, I swear-"

"Horton?" Rhea frowned in obvious confusion, then his meaning clicked.  She uncoiled from her Indian position like a dancer or a cat, to stand toe to toe with him, glaring furiously.  "You think I meant I want her dead?  If that was the case, Dawson, why did I help her get her music back?" Her eyes flashed, weariness fraying her temper and self-restraint to non-existence.  "Who the hell do you think has been keeping her alive since she became Immortal?!"

Joe's jaw dropped open and his hazel eyes widened.  Rhea realized what she just said and blinked in dismay.  "Wups," she said softly.  She took a careful step back and swallowed down a surge of fear.

Joe stared at her for a long moment, then set the violin down on a table, turned back to the bar and walked stiffly behind it.  Still silent, he selected a bottle and a glass.  He poured, considered, and poured some more, then down it in one swallow.  When he set the glass down, Rhea was watching him, still hovering between the stage and the bar.  Finally, when he still didn't say anything, she approached and said softly, "Make mine a double."

Joe looked at her and couldn't help a chuckle, albeit a rough one.  He poured and watched as Rhea took a healthy swallow, then fought back a cough.  "Should have told you," he said.  "It's hell going down."  Rhea nodded, her eyes solemn and older than her years.  Joe studied her for a long while.  "Tell me," he said finally.

Rhea was silent for a moment, then, quietly, "How did you lose your legs?"

Joe frowned at her, then answered.  "In 'Nam.  Land-mine.  I was eighteen."

A look of infinite sadness flickered across her face and she nodded.  "And when you woke up..?"

Joe nodded, beginning to understand.  "I didn't think I had anything left worth living for.  I was empty inside, alone.  I wanted to die."

Rhea's eyes lifted, met and held his.  "That was how Claudia felt when she thought she'd lost her music.  Lost, empty, as if her heart was gone.  Until she faced death and suddenly that seemed to be the answer.  Face death so that she could feel life, so that she could play with the fire lent to her by mortality.  That wasn't the answer, of course.  And she would have figured it out eventually, but in the meantime..."  She took a breath and rushed on.  "In the meantime any Immortal with a sword and an attitude could come by and take her head.  I couldn't let that happen."

She shook her head to forestall any comment.  "I know the rules, Joe - I know we're not supposed to interfere, and if there had ever been a straight-out challenge I would have kept out of it.  But there wasn't."  Her eyes were bright, begging him to see, to understand.  "I didn't go to the places she went to rehearse, but I knew people there.  I kept track of other Immortals passing through and if a bad one was going to be somewhere Claudia was planning for, I'd suggest to her friends that they go somewhere else.  Or if I couldn't do that, I'd make sure her car wouldn't start.  Small things like that."

Rhea sighed at the look on his face.  "I know," she said wearily.  "I'm walking a very thin line.  But I couldn't...I couldn't stand by and watch her get herself killed before she ever had a chance to start living."  A note of passion, and pleading, had entered her voice.  "I had a cousin once; he killed himself when he was fifteen.  Fifteen, Joe.  He had so much ahead of him, so much he could have done and seen...and he killed himself because he didn't agree.  His parents had divorced and he was doing poorly in school..."

She shook her head, pain clear in her eyes.  "I saw him when I looked at Claudia.  I didn't want that to happen to her.  So I did the best I could to make sure she had a chance to see all the wonders she had ahead of her, all the things she could accomplish."  Her fingers turned the glass slowly, then she took another drink and looked at him, challenge rather than defense in her eyes.  "And I'd do it again."

Joe smiled and shook his head.  "I'm not the Tribunal, Rhea," he said gently.  "And I'm certainly not going to be the one to bring any of this to their attention."

Rhea stared at him, then smiled slowly.  "No, I guess that would be a bit hypocritical of you."

Joe's smile turned into a grin.  "Yes, it would," he agreed with a laugh.

Rhea laughed too, then looked at him consideringly for a long moment.  "Thank you," she said softly.

Joe smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief.  "Don't thank me yet," he said.  "We still have to figure out what to do with you and MacLeod."

***

"You want to do what?!"

Joe raised an eyebrow at the stunned look on MacLeod's face.  "Try not to be so enthusiastic, Mac."

Rhea had the same stunned look, if a trifle more thoughtful.  "Would they seriously let us do that?" she asked after a moment.

Joe shrugged, smiling.  "They didn't seem to mind it as a hypothetical situation.  In fact," he said, watching MacLeod carefully, "it wouldn't be the first time a Watcher got, ah, intimately involved with their assigned Immortal."

MacLeod whirled, looking both shocked and indignant, obviously trying to think who Joe might mean.  Before it became obvious he would have to think for a long while, Rhea spoke.  "He doesn't mean you," she said, casting a look of fond aggravation at Joe.  "And," she continued, "this would be the first time the Immortal knew about it."  She smiled.  "We assume."

MacLeod was looking at her with an expression somewhat akin to that of someone who had been whapped over the head with a flounder.  She hadn't said a word of protest at Joe's assumption that they would be intimately involved.  MacLeod wasn't sure whether to accede to his emotions and grin like an idiot or protest Joe's plan.

"Joe, are you sure you want to do this?" he asked finally.

Joe grinned at him.  "I've been planning it since business started picking up," he admitted.  "It's kind of hard to keep a club popular if the proprietor is hauling his butt to Paris every few months."  MacLeod started to apologize, but Joe waved his hand.  "Not that I haven't enjoyed it, Mac.  It's just these ole bones are starting to prefer a little more stability.  And it's not like you suddenly won't be coming around...the customers seem to like our weekly violin concerts, so Rhea certainly won't be stealing you away."

MacLeod's dropped open again, but he was saved by Rhea's sudden laughter and wicked smile.  "Well, I'm glad to see you have everything planned out, Joe," she chuckled.  "Have you picked out our dog and his name, too?"

Joe grinned at her.  "Gotta leave something for you to do."

This time it was MacLeod's voice that answered him.  "How thoughtful of you."  He leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtful for a long moment.  "So.  Let's get this straight," he said slowly.  "If Rhea becomes my Watcher, the Tribunal would have no problem with me, say, asking her to dinner?"

Joe shook his head, smiling.  Rhea played with her mug of beer, looking very thoughtful.  MacLeod's heart thudded painfully against his ribs as he waited for her to say something.  What if I was wrong?, he wondered suddenly.  What if I'm taking for granted that she wants to be with me? What if-  An image rose in his mind of her tear-streaked face, desperation and soul-deep hurt in her eyes as she looked up at him.  No, he thought; I'm right.  I am.  He said her name, gently, still a little hesitantly.  And felt relief flood him as she lifted her head and their eyes met.

Rhea smiled slowly.  "Don't tell me you're being an idiot again," she said softly, for him alone.  Then she turned to Joe.  "Deal me in," she said with a wide smile.

Joe grinned.  "Good!" he said.  "I'd hate to have to assign Kitti Morelli to MacLeod."

Rhea laughed, nearly falling off her chair.  "Oh god!" she squeaked.  "No!!"

Joe's grin only widened.  "Yup."

Rhea wiped tears from the corner of her eyes, still giggling hysterically, while MacLeod looked from one to the other in confusion.  "Who's Kitti Morelli?" he asked.

Rhea was laughing too hard to answer, so Joe explained instead.  "Carolyn Marsh's greatest fan."

Duncan stared at him, then exploded with, "Dawson, you wouldn't dare!"

Rhea laughed even harder, then was suddenly and unexpectedly silenced by MacLeod, who strode over to her chair.  He swooped, wrapping an arm about her waist, and pulled her to her feet to kiss her full on the lips.  Laughter dimmed and then vanished, her arms rising to cling to him, and when Duncan pulled away it was to reveal a dazed look on Rhea's face, her eyes soft and hazy as she looked up at him.  It was the twin of Duncan's expression.  He gazed down at her, then smiled softly.  "Would you have dinner with me?" he murmured.

Rhea smiled back and raised a hand to touch his cheek softly.  "Yes."

They stood there for a moment more, simply looking into one another's eyes, reveling in the love and desire now given possibility.  There was the soft sound of someone clearing his throat and they turned to see Joe watching them with a semi-embarrassed look.  Well, Rhea thought with a smile, it's probably not every day two people kiss like that in front of him.  "Sorry," she said contritely.  She wasn't sorry, at all; one look at Duncan proved he didn't feel a drop of remorse either.  He smiled at her, that same soft, gentle, wondering smile, and Rhea felt her knees going weak again.  For me, she found herself thinking.  Just for me...and now I can claim it.

Joe smiled at them both and reached for a bottle of Scotch.  "I think this calls for a drink."

Rhea grinned at him, dropping her arm to encircle Duncan's waist, as she'd wanted to do for so long.  "I couldn't agree more."

Conclusion (Editing Choices Ahead)

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