Faint early morning light is trickling into a bedroom, where two people are seen asleep in bed, one man and one woman. A light knock sounds on the door of the room.

"Assumpta? Assumpta, it's Maggie, you have to wake Peter....."

Maggie MacAllister's voice is barely more than a whisper, but the woman in the bed rolls onto her back, opens her eyes, and sits up. The man next to her barely stirs. Assumpta Fitzgerald smiles at Peter Clifford, then reaches for a robe, gets out of bed, and puts it on. She steps quietly to the door and opens it a crack to see her friend, heavily bundled up, standing outside her door. Assumpta steps through the doorway and closes it softly behind herself.

"I'm sorry, Assumpta, but Peter needs to get up, shower and hit the road, he has to say a Mass in Cilldargan in an hour or so!" Maggie tells her young friend.

"Oh, oh my...!" Assumpta glances at her watch. "Well, he'll keep a minute, why are you all wrapped up? And was the hunting good?"

"I had a detour, and ended up leaving my body on the balcony for a few hours, so I'm *really* cold! And yes, I think it was, I hope the Master is pleased. I'm suprised you didn't wake up when I came in, Iblis made enough noise out front to wake the dead, and I'm sure there'll be talk of Black Coaches and pookas all over town, with his racket. Still, I can't blame him, he ran hard in the Hunt, and still had to get home to his stable after he left me here. It was easier when I had a barn of my own for him to live in, but I don't think
Frankie would let me keep him in the pub. Now go wake Peter up and I'm gonna put on the coffee pot and some breakfast downstairs, before I start shivering so hard I break bones!" Maggie hugs Assumpta briefly, then turns down the hall and starts down the stairs.

Assumpta goes back into her room, leaving the door ajar, and sits on the bedside, gently shaking Peter by the shoulder. "Peter?" she says his name quietly.

"Huh, uh, Ma?" A bleary-eyed gaze wanders vaguely around the room as Peter Clifford turns his head, one eye barely open.

"No, ya big goon, I'm not your Mum!" and Assumpta punches him solidly on the shoulder and stands up. "Get up, Peter, it's nearly seven o'clock, and you have a Mass at eight in Cilldargan!" She turns to leave the bedside, but her arm is grabbed firmly in Peter's grip. His face has a huge grin on it, and he pulls her back onto the bed, where she sits abruptly, and is encircled by his arms.

"Good morning to you to, Merry Sunshine! And how is the love of my life this fine day?" He kisses the side of her neck, making a smacking sound.

"Oh, you!" Assumpta waves a hand as if to slap him, but is grinning also, and turns in his grip enough to take the next kiss straight on her lips. Peter deepens the kiss and groans softly, but Assumpta pushes on his chest. "Didn't you hear me? It's Sunday morning, you HAVE to get up, Peter! And yes, I love you, but I have to get up, too! Now move!" Assumpta stands again, and crosses her arms across her chest, stepping back slightly.

Peter, sitting up barechested, glances around the room. "Um, I don't suppose you have anything I can wear?" he asks.

"No, you'd better just shower and dress, Maggie is making coffee, but you need to get moving!"

Peter looks at the small clock on the bedside table, and the situation is suddenly real to him, too. "Bugger!" he exclaims as he stands up, then glances upwards "sorry!" and crosses the room towards the attached bathroom.

Assumpta giggles, resists the temptation to swat his bare backside, and tells him, "I think you have something a little more serious than a swear word to apologize to Him for, Peter!"

"Ah'll get to *that* later!" he answers over his shoulder, then turns, blows her a kiss, and closes the bathroom door. Assumpta leaves the room and heads to the other upstairs bathroom, and closes the door.

The scene shifts to the kitchen, where Maggie is sipping a second cup of coffee, having swilled the first, and beginning to take stock of the larder. Assumpta enters the kitchen, and gets herself some coffee, then sits at the table.

"So, hunting was good?"

"Yes, I bagged a trophy, in my humble opinion, though I am sure others took bigger prizes. Still, that particular form of evil is one of my pet peeves, so I'm satisfied. I'll have to have you mail me the obits from the Dublin papers for a week or so, and see if it gets hushed up or not." Maggie answers her friend's question. Her face is still pale, and she seems somewhat different in appearance, thinner and almost frail. Assumpta sees her clearly in the stronger light, and stands up.

"Maggie, you look knackered, let me fix breakfast! How long were you out of your body, how long was it outside?" Maggie gratefully sits down, hugging the coffee cup with both hands. She is wearing two robes, a pair of sweatpants, and thick, sheepskin booties, as well as a woolen cap on her head. "I was out a total of five hours or so, and at least three, probably four of it was spent outside. If it had been really bad weather I might have come back to a useless body, and you'd have had some mess to clean up, I'm sorry to say!" Maggie sips more coffee, and Assumpta puts slices of bread into the toaster, taking butter from the refrigerator.

"You look like you've lost 20 or 30 pounds, at least, Maggie. It doesn't usually go like that, does it?" Her concern is clear, Maggie seems to have aged significantly.

"No, it doesn't, this is a drastic side effect from being out in the cold so long. Still, it means I can really pig out for Thanksgiving and Christmas! For every cloud a silver lining, you know!" she chuckles. "When you start to ride the Hunt, if you ever decide to, I'll make sure we are both safe and secure inside, so you won't take such a big hit as I did last night."

"Well, I admit, after seeing you, I was having some real doubts I'd ever join you! Does this happen every year?" Assumpta butters the toast and hands the plate to Maggie, who picks up a piece, but answers
before biting into it.

"I always lose a few pounds, and usually that's not a bad thing, either." She smiles. "Lets me fit into those gorgeous Holiday clothes without the hassle of a months-long diet!" She takes a bite of the toast as Assumpta starts cooking bacon in a pan on the stove. Just as it starts to sizzle, Peter Clifford, in his clerical blacks, walks into the kitchen, and over to the stove. He puts his arms around Assumpta, hugs her, then lets go and turns to face Maggie.

"Good morning, Maggie!" The happiness he is feeling is evident in his voice.

"Good morning, Peter. I'm quite impressed with you, young man, it seems that you've been doing some research indeed!" Maggie smiles back at him, and takes another slice of toast. "Sit down, would you like some toast and coffee?"

"Research?" Assumpta asks, turning the bacon with a fork as it cooks.

"He knew what it meant when you told him the Gates were open last night! He had to have done some digging to understand that!" Maggie answers her. Peter sits down, having taken a cup and some coffee, and adds sugar to it, then stirs.

"I did do some reading, Maggie, yes. Now whether my God accepts the premise that all earthly bonds were loosed for one night last night or not, and what reaction I get when I step up to the altar I don't know. I really oughtn't to even drink this coffee, but I'll never make the drive without it. Ummm, that bacon smells good, but I can't have any, not even toast." He sighs.

"I know." Maggie and Assumpta answer him virtually together, and the younger woman turns to smile at her friend and her lover, sitting at the table, then chuckles suddenly. "What a trio we are, two pagans and a Catholic priest having breakfast on a Sunday morning!" She laughs, her worry lines of the past months smoothed away. Peter grins back at her, then turns to look at Maggie.

"Maggie, pardon me, but you don't look so good this morning! Are you ill?" He notes the pale face, much thinner, as are her hands.

"No, just cold and tired from my ride last night, Peter. Don't you think you'd better be going?" She glances at the clock on the wall, it is nearing 7:30.

"Ride?" Peter's voice is clearly quizzical, but he glances at the clock, too, gulps the rest of his coffee, and stands. "Assumpta, will you be here when I get back? You won't go back to Dublin, will you, or vanish into thin air, or anything?" He walks back to the stove, and does not hesitate as he slides his arms around her waist from behind.

"I'll be right here, Peter. I'm not leaving Maggie when she looks like this, and besides, I'm not a ghost or a figment of your imagination, I won't vanish away in the mist. Now go on, so you won't be late, and we'll talk more this afternoon!" She turns in his arms, and kisses him soundly, then pushes at his chest, smiling up into his eyes. He looks down at her, clearly still slightly stunned at the turn his life has taken, and the huge blessing he senses in having this wonderful woman back in it.

"I love you!" he tells her, then bends down to kiss her cheek, and turns to go. "Thank you, Maggie!" he tells the older woman.

"Oh, goodness, what for?" she answers him.

"For bringing her back to me, me back to her, whatever, just, thanks!" He smiles, and steps through the door into the pub, and a moment later they both hear the front door open and close, and the car out front start up and drive away.

"Will he make it in time to say Mass?" Maggie asks Assumpta.

"Yeah, but it'll be close. I wonder if someone else says a later Mass, or if he'll have to do both? He'll be famished if he can't eat until noon!" Assumpta has concern written on her face as she stares out the window.

"I doubt he has a curate there as well as here, but who knows, maybe Father Sheehan drives in to say a second Mass in Cilldargan? Anyway, it'll all come out in the wash, and Peter will be back before we hardly know he's left, I'll bet. Now, how about some eggs with that, and don't burn the bacon!" Maggie is smiling as she stands, her young friend's distraction is obvious.

"Oh, yeah..." and Assumpta removes the cooked bacon to a plate covered in paper towels, as Maggie hands her a basket of eggs from the 'fridge.

"Sunny side up, please, Miss." Maggie chuckles as she takes the bacon to the table, and sets plates for Assumpta and herself, then puts more bread in the toaster, and takes the butter to the table. The eggs are popping in the hot bacon grease, and Maggie pours herself a third cup of coffee, then sits down again. Soon Assumpta is lifting eggs onto Maggie's plate, then hers, and the women start a breakfast both of them would normally avoid, but make special exception for this day.

After breakfast, Maggie has some color in her cheeks, and takes one robe off, then stretches. "You'd better shower first, Assumpta, so you can be dressed upstairs in case anyone drops by. Do you want me to call Niamh or Siobhan?"

"No, Maggie, you shower first and finish warming up, I'll call Niamh myself." Assumpta tells her. Both women head back upstairs slowly.

The next scene opens later in the day, in the office of Peter's residence in Cilldargan. The clock on the desk shows the time as 12:30. There are two sandwiches on a plate on the desk, and a steaming mug of tea beside them. Peter Clifford is sitting behind the desk, going through stacks of papers. He picks up a sandwich, takes a big bite, and goes back to the papers. The phone rings, and Peter picks up the receiver with one hand, and his tea with the other, washing the sandwich down with a swallow of tea, and answers.

"Hello, Cilldargan parish house, Peter Clifford speaking." The voice on the other end of the line speaks, and Peter drinks more tea as he listens. "Yes, your Grace, thank you for ringing me back so quickly." Another short pause, then "yes, your Grace, the message was correct, I am resigning my assignment here in Cilldargan. I understood, when I took this post, that it was to be temporary, until an older, more experienced parish priest could be appointed. Circumstances have simply changed so suddenly that I am asking to be relieved of my post now, rather than waiting any longer." Peter listens, and takes another bite of his sandwich.

"I am very sorry, your Grace, but I am not willing to discuss the details of my circumstances over the telephone. I have asked Father Sheehan to fill in for daily Mass here in the coming week, and I am sure that you have someone in mind to take over here. Yes, your Grace, I will be happy to come to Dublin tomorrow, what time would you like to see me?" A final pause of some duration, and Peter answers, "Yes, your Grace, ten o'clock tomorrow morning, I'll be there." Peter's former diffidence in dealing with his superiour seems virtually gone, though he is clearly still respectful. His resolve is written clear on his face, and he goes back to sorting paperwork, determined to get his office in order before he leaves it.

An hour later, he stands, pushing the chair back, picks up his dishes from a now empty desktop, carrying them into the kitchen. He rolls up the sleeves of a simple plaid shirt, and washes all the dishes in the sink, setting them to dry in a drain rack. He looks around the kitchen, and sees it also in order, then heads upstairs. A short time later, he comes down the stairs, wearing a coat over the shirt and blue jeans, and carrying a knapsack and a dufflebag with him. He sets both bags down by the front door, glances around one last time, then picks up his possessions, steps out, and locks the door behind him. Going to his car, he loads his bags, gets in, and drives away, heading towards Ballykissangel.

In BallyK's only pub, Maggie MacAllister and Assumpta Fitzgerald sit at the kitchen table, sipping tea and passing the time. Maggie is eating a bowl of ice cream after her lunch, Assumpta has declined the calorie-heavy dessert.

"So, he proposed again last night, then?" Maggie asks. Assumpta smiles fondly, "Yeah, he did. You're right, he really must have done some reading, I never guessed he'd know all the implications of the Gates being open, and he took me by complete suprise. I was being all calm and controlled and ready to send him back to Cilldargan, ready to talk on the phone for a few weeks, let him make his decision with no pressure from me, and he swept me right off my feet, instead!"

"I'll say he did, and right up the stairs and into bed, as well! I wonder just how much trouble he will be in with his Boss, I don't think the loosing of bonds is part of Roman Catholic tradition! Still, I can't imagine that he'd have wound up back here in County Wicklow by freak accident; if he was sent here, then he must have been meant to see you again, or at least the opportunity was supposed to exist. There's no such thing as coincidence, everything happens for some purpose, even if we don't know it at the time." Maggie takes another bite of vanilla ice cream, which is nearly drowning in a sea of caramel sauce. Her eyes close as she savours the sweet creamy stuff melting on her tongue.

"You'll gain back all 23 pounds in one day at this rate, Maggie!" Assumpta laughs, watching her friend. Maggie is no longer pale, and the drawn look is gone, but she is still clearly thinner than she was the previous day.

"Nah, my metabolism will be ramped up for weeks now, I'll be burning fuel like a furnace for a while. The older this body gets, the longer it takes to recover from such abuses. Good thing this doesn't happen to Iblis, I could never explain to Danny why a fat old plug had turned into a coat rack overnight!" Maggie sips tea.

"Why is that, exactly?" Assumpta knows that the black horse has been with Maggie for years and years, yet never seems to age or show injury, but is still unprepared for the answer.

"He's what was called, once upon a time, my familiar spirit, Assumpta. He will not age or show hurt as long as he and I are together, his condition is protected by our link to each other. Part of my weight loss is due to his deriving energy from me during our ride last night. At some point I will have to let him go, but even when his body dies, his spirit and mine will be connected. And who knows, I may go first, this time. If I do, he will begin to show his age, and will probably pass soon after I do. We have been together through many lifetimes, in many forms, and he is a tower of strength and comfort in any trouble. I'm just glad I've found such a good home for him here, up at Danny's place, no horse could be happier than he is there."

"Familiar, you mean like a witch's familiar?" Assumpta is suprised, clearly.

"Yes, exactly, though the ugly, evil tales the priests spread during the burnings aren't true, of course." Maggie finishes her tea.

"No, I wouldn't think they were! So, will I ever, um, acquire someone like him? Can I ask for one?" Assumpta's suprise is superceded by curiosity and interest.

"You can ask, but unless you want to take a few more steps down that Path and start really Working, odds are you won't need one. Besides, I don't think Peter is going to be quite ready for you being a practicing witch, dealing with your 'paganism' is going to be enough for him to handle. Also, you and he will have a family, and taking good care of your child or children, plus taking care of Peter and your business, will keep you busy enough for some years to come. In the future, if things go along in one way, you may be called to serious Work, and you'll know it when it happens, and recieve the gifts to do it, as well as the strengths to carry the burdens. The Goddess will provide, I am sure." Maggie seems intensely content, Assumpta has not seen such calm on her friend's face in some months. Then, something Maggie has just said hits her.

"WILL have a family, what do you mean, do you mean?" she stands as her voice trails off.

Maggie reaches out and takes her hand, drawing her closer. She places Assumpta's palm, flat, against her abdomen, and covers it with her own hand. "Close your eyes, now, and breathe in, breathe out, relax, and tell me what you feel." Assumpta breathes slowly and deeply for several moments, then a smile breaks over her face, and she opens her eyes. "I'm pregnant!" She is beaming!

"Yes, or you will be, at least for a while. One never knows with these things, perhaps it isn't time for this baby to be born, and the pregnancy won't carry, or perhaps you'll go full term. Do you want to know if it's a boy or a girl?" Maggie asks her friend.

"No, not yet. Oh, wait until I tell Peter, he'll be so happy!" Assumpta sits back down, still beaming with joy. "I'd hold off on telling him for a few weeks, just in case. Besides, he's just broached the idea of marriage to his subconcious, let that sink in a while before he has to hit it with fatherhood!" Maggie laughs, gladdened to see her friend so incredibly happy. "Yeah, yeah, you're probably right." Assumpta agrees. "He'll just have to put my happiness down to general causes. Say, this won't mean we can't, um, that we have to stop..."

"No, you won't have to stop making love, dear, not until you are alot bigger, and by then odds are you won't want Peter anywhere near you unless you are carrying a baseball bat!" Maggie laughs again, just as a knock sounds at the front door. She stands, motioning Assumpta to stay in the kitchen, and heads to open the door. Sean and Niamh, are there, with Brendan and Siobhan in the background. Expecting them, Maggie lets them in, then closes and locks the door again. They all go back into the kitchen, and sit on the chairs or the old settle. Niamh is clearly getting very near her term, Sean helps her sit down.

"So, how'd things go then, last night?" Niamh asks her old friend.

"Better than I thought, and faster, too, he proposed!" Assumpta answers.

Exclamations of happiness and congratulations explode, but Brendan holds up a hand. "I take it you DID say yes?" he asks Assumpta, his hands on her shoulders. She nods, and he practically lifts her to her feet, enveloping her in a bear hug. "That's my girl, good for you! And I expect to be the one walking you down the aisle, I hope you know, young lady!" Brendan is clearly relieved as well as happy.

"Yeah, well, if we do a church wedding you will, but we haven't gotten that far, yet! He still has to petition for release from his vows, before that can happen. We may both need walkers or wheelchairs to get down the aisle by the time THAT happens, you now!" Assumpta is laughing despite her serious words, relieved that her friends support her decision.

Another knock sounds at the door in front, and Maggie answers it as Assumpta tells her friends about the denoument of the previous evening. Maggie admits Peter Clifford, and follows him into the kitchen as well, after again locking the front door. She glances out, but despite Peter's bags being with him, does not see his car parked out front. By the time she re-enters the kitchen Peter is having his back slapped and getting hugs from all his friends, and then he moves to stand beside Assumpta, his arm slipping around her waist as both lean against the counter.

"Well, I've done it, I told the Bishop I was resigning my post. I still have an appointment tomorrow, in Dublin, to talk to him, but I'll sign the formal petition papers then, if I can. In the meantime, I'm a mendicant again! Maggie, have you got a room for a destitute former priest?"

"I do, but I would think you'd want to go up to Dublin with your fiancee, she has a home up there, I understand." Maggie sits back down, noting her remaining ice cream has completely melted in the bowl.

"Assumpta, can I, I mean do you want me to come with you? Will it cause trouble with your partner?" He turns to face Assumpta as he asks.

"You'd better come with me, you big lug, after all the trouble I've gone through to get you back, don't think I'll let you out of my sight again THAT easily!" She hugs him, laying her head against his shoulder, desperately eager to share all her news, yet knowing that now, at least, is not the time.

"Well, I'm sure the Bishop will be happy to meet you, perhaps he'll go a little bit easier on me if you are in the room?" Peter is smiling.

"Oh, well, maybe I'll let you out of my sight long enough to talk to the Bishop. It might put a spanner in the wedding plans if I'm in jail for assault with intent to kill a bishop, after all." Assumpta leans back, grinning up at Peter. Loud guffaws are heard from Brendan, Siobhan, Sean and Maggie. A look of momentary concern and confusion passes over Peter Clifford's face, then he grins, sensing the teasing joke, as does Niamh, and everyone laughs. Niamh, knowing her dear friend's temper, laughs a bit ruefully, though!

Discussion ensues, with questions asked and answered. Peter tells his friends that he has left his car, its keys, and the key to Cilldargan's rectory with Father Sheehan. All his worldly goods are in his two bags, and he has essentially cut all his ties. He had said goodbye to the Cilldargan parishoners in his two Masses that morning, telling them only that he was being called by God to take a new direction in his life.

"So, you were't struck by lightening then, when you raised the chalice at the altar?" Maggie asks him.

"No, I guess He must be okay with this." Peter answers her.

"Either that, or else he was too busy elsewhere, and will get back to you later. Still, I think you were called back here for a reason, maybe your God really does want you and Assumpta together. I can certainly pray for your life together to be long, happy, and blessed, even if I ask it of my Goddess, not your God, and hope that both of them grant it be so!" Maggie reaches out and gives Peter a hug, and he smiles, it is the first time she has ever seemed so friendly to him.

He notes her better color, but can still tell how thin she seems. He'll ask Assumpta later, he decides. Maggie sits back down, and the impromptu party continues, and more tea and biscuits are passed around. Soon, though, Niamh and Sean, then Brendan and Siobhan take their leaves, and not long after, Assumpta goes upstairs to pack her small bag she brought for the few days she has spent with Maggie, Peter following her. Maggie smiles as the giggling erupts, and wonders if they will make it back to Dublin after all, but soon enough both of them come back downstairs again, bags in hand.

"Now Maggie, you take care of yourself tonight, and get Orla to come open up for you tomorrow, and Connor as well, if he can. You need more than one day of rest to get over the strain you put yourself through!" Assumpta has heard of Maggie's full night's travels, and is more concerned than she was, fearing that Maggie's worries over her early encounter will keep her from resting and recouperating.

"*Now* who's being the mother hen here? I'll be fine, don't worry about me! The old gray mare ain't what she used to be, but there's life in the old girl yet, never you fear. Go on, now, head off, and Peter, if you need help with the Bishop tomorrow, just call, and I'll cook his goose so fast he'll be happy to grant you *immediate* dispensation!" Maggie hugs Assumpta, then Peter, and sees them out the back door, into Assumpta's small car, and off down the road.

It is a quiet Sunday afternoon in Ballykissangel, and nobody chances to see their most recent parish priest driving out of town with a woman presumed to be dead and buried years ago. Maggie sighs, knowing that the news of Peter's resignation, at least, will spread fast, and be all over town by the next day, though she hopes news of the reason for it doesn't get out!

Going back inside the kitchen, she lifts the bowl and drinks the last of the ice cream, then puts the bowl and all the cups and plates in the dishwasher, and heads into the lounge out front, turning on the television, and sitting down with her legs stretched out on one of the couches to watch something mindless. She leans back, pulls a soft blanket off the back of the couch and covers her legs, and soon drifts off to sleep. She refuses to let her dreams be haunted by a different man who wears a black suit and white collar, and instead drifts dreamlessly and peacefully into deep, restful sleep.