"You want me to go where?"

Connor just stared at his young-looking friend.

"America, right now. In the long run, on tour with us. It's just the last leg, a couple of months. Come on, it'll be fun!"

"Christopher, I've had enough of traveling, it's why I own an apartment."

"And several estates, I know, but you need this. Besides, I've missed having you around lately. The guys are great and everything, but sometimes I want to talk to someone who really knows where I've been. Someone who's actually been more places, too. You know I don't know any other Immortals."

Connor looked at Chris incredulously. He couldn't believe he was about to agree to go on tour with a boy band. He barely knew what a boy band was. And yet, he knew how Chris felt. It was what made him keep in touch with others of his kind, despite the dangers of exposure.

"Very well, Christopher. I'll come with you. What are you going to say to people about me?"

Chris looked confident as he said, "Don't worry about it, I'll take care of everything." He paused and thought a moment. "I know, I'll tell them you're a stunt guy I met at Universal."

Connor sighed. "That won't work. My current identity won't hold that up. I'm an antique dealer."

"Don't worry, no one will look into your past, the guys-"

"The guys are not who I'm worried about. I think your management will definitely look into my past. Leave it to me. I have a few degrees lying around. I met you when you 'went to college'."

Chris looked uncomfortable for a moment and said,"About the management. You can't take your sword."

Connor was speechless. He opened his mouth to yell at Chris, and then closed it. What on Earth was Chris talking about? He had to take his sword. It wasn't a fashion statement, it was protection, it was a way of life. "Don't you carry your sword?"

Chris looked around nervously. "I leave it in the bus, mostly. They think my great-grandfather or something left it to me, that's it's a good-luck charm or something. It's there, sometimes I work out with it, but never when the guys are around. It's not like I need the protection, we have bodyguards all the time. Interviews make me nervous, anyone could be on the set. I deal with it. I've been lucky so far. I--"

Chris would have continued babbling if Connor hadn't interrupted him. "Fine, I'll think of something. I don't know what, but I'll think of something. When do we leave?"

Chris bounced into the hotel suite, yelling to find out where everyone was. Connor strolled in far more sedately, but with his own certain flair. Responding to Chris' call, the boys of 'NSync burst into the main room, eager to see what presents Chris had brought them from Ireland.

"Whatjabringus?" Justin asked. Then, "Who's that?"

Chris grinned and responded, "Your present."

The boys all looked stupefied.

JC was the first to break the silence. "No, really, man. Who is he?"

Connor decided to take over. "Connor McLeod. I taught history when Christopher was in school. We've kept in touch for a while, and he decided that I must come visit. And you boys are?"

Chris introduced the four young men, all smiling affably. Something was bothering Connor about the whole situation, like there was something not quite right about them. If he didn't know better, he'd think they were-

"Presents!" Chris intruded on Connor's musing, and the boys attention was riveted on the backpack Chris took off his shoulder. He rummaged through it and began lobbing objects at the eager boys. "Let's see, JC, I found this tape of Irish whistling music for you. Joey, I know I usually get you shot glasses, but not from Ireland. Here are some Molly Malone beer glasses. Lance, I found this wonderful pen that has the Irish flag floating in water in the top of it. You can sign contracts with it. And Justin. . . " He trailed off as he tossed the last bundle Justin's way.

Justin spread out the t-shirt and read, "'My Best Friend went to Ireland and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.' Thanks, man," he said with a big grin. JC, Joey and Lance looked equally pleased. They were used to Chris' gifts. Frankly, so was Connor, but he was not pleased this time.

"So lovely to meet you all. Christopher, may I have a word?" Connor hustled Chris out of the room. "What the hell kind of game are you playing?"

Chris looked like a scared rabbit.

"I'm waiting for an explanation."

Chris swallowed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do. You're not that stupid." Connor waved his arms towards the other room. "Your friends, the ones that start with 'J',"

"Joey?" Chris supplied, hopefully.

Connor paced as he continued, "No! The other two. They're immortal! Rather, they will be. What are you doing here! What do you expect me to do? What were you th-"

Chris was suddenly very upset and very serious. "Connor, I can't take care of them anymore. They can't take care of themselves. I started the band to protect them. They would have become famous without me. This way, I could stay around long enough to keep them safe, maybe get them a teacher. I can't teach them. I can't fight. I run. I hide. I flirt. They can't live like that; they're too flamboyant. They'll attract attention wherever they go, no matter what, no matter when. You're the only Immortal I know who can save them. Hell, you're practically the only Immortal I know, period." He paused, visibly shaken. Connor had stopped pacing and was staring out the window. "You can't just turn your back on them. I know you won't. You probably should have turned on me, taken my head, but you didn't." He reached out and touched Connor's shoulder, "Please, help them."

Connor looked at the floor and then the hand on his shoulder. He'd taught Christopher so much. How to defend himself, how to blend in, lose identities. Chris had never been very good at any of it, except the losing of old identities and creating of new ones. In recent years, he'd taught Connor some tricks in that department. But Chris was more than that to the old Scot. He was a friend. One who always knew how to make him laugh, and more importantly, when he needed to laugh. He couldn't leave Chris on his own with two young, pre-Immortals. At the same time, he didn't think he could handle taking on two students who were so famous and visible. Everyone around them was visible, too. He'd be a walking target.

Connor turned to face his former student. "I won't abandon you, Christopher. But, I'm not who JC and Justin need." Chris' face fell, until Connor continued, "Don't worry, I'll think of something."

"I don't like this. Connor McLeod coming on tour with 'NSync? You don't think he's after Chris, sir?"

"No, I don't. Kirkpatrick seems to trust him. And for Kirkpatrick to have stayed out of trouble for so long, he'd have to be good at avoiding hostile Immortals. The Highlander may attract trouble, and his honor's a little tarnished, but he's not evil."

"But--" Lonnie was cut off by his superior.

"Remember, we do not, under any circumstances, interfere in Immortal business."

"Yes, sir, we merely watch and record," dejected, Lonnie hung up the phone.