As evening draws in, the front room of Fitzgerald's Pub is dark. It is Christmas Eve, and Orla and Connor are on the road back from Dublin, where they attended Peter and Assumpta's civil wedding ceremony. James O'Connor is at St. Joseph's, helping Fr. Aidan prepare the church for the Christmas Masses. Aidan has asked James to join him for supper, knowing that Orla and Connor will likely be back late. In the dark silence of the pub, suddenly, a shrill ringing breaks in. The phone is ringing, once, twice, then twice more, and the answering machine picks up the call. A short message, in a tense male voice, and then the click of the phone hanging up at the other end of the line. Just as the sun finally sets, a ray of light cleaves through the front curtains of the pub, flashing off the mirror behind the bar, illuminating for a brief moment the shiny taps and the glowing waxed wood of the bar, before falling below the horizon, leaving the main room of the pub again in darkness.

Half an hour later, Connor and Orla unlock and open the kitchen door of the pub, turning on lights as they enter. Orla hands her coat to Connor, who takes it and his own jacket upstairs, as Orla goes to check the front doors. She notes the blinking light on the answering machine, goes on to the doors, checks to be sure they are locked, then goes back to the front desk, and pushes the button to retrieve the message, just as Connor comes back downstairs.

"Damn, Orla, Connor, ah hoped ya'd be back b' now! S' Danny, Danny Byrne. Orla, ah got home from Dublin, an Razor was pitchin' a fit. Went out ta da barn, an' Razor was all alone in his part o' da barn. Orla, Maggie's stallion is gone! Ah don't know how he coulda gotten out, I swear I latched the gate, an' it's still latched, he musta jumped the gate, tha's da only way he coulda done. Ah'm sorry, Orla, if Maggie calls, tell her Ah'm sorry, Ah hope he's not hurt himself, an that he comes back, or shows up at Avril's stable. Ah'm gonna call her next, tell her to be lookin' out, jus' in case Iblis comes into her yard. Call me when ya' get in, will ya?"

Orla and Connor, both frozen in their places, stare at each other, eyes wide open, faces white. Orla pulls a stool close, and slumps onto it, putting her face in her hands. Connor comes the rest of the way down the staircase, and moves to stand behind Orla, resting his hands on her shoulders. Orla sits up, and punches the "erase" button on the machine.

She turns and speaks to Connor. "We can't let O'Connor know Iblis has gone to join Maggie, he mustn't know!"

Connor answers, "Yeah, I agree, he can't know, but we have to tell Maggie. Orla, how in the world can Iblis get across the Irish Sea to Scotland, he'll drown if he tries to swim it!"

"I know, luv, I have no idea what he's going to do, but at least Maggie needs to know he's going to try." Orla pulls the phone to her, and dials the Byrne farm as she is pulling Maggie's number out of her purse.

"Danny, yeah, we just got in, we got your message. Has Iblis showed up at Avril's yard?.....No, well, I didn't really expect him to, but I hoped that maybe he thought The Cat was comin' in season, and figured he'd play Casanova while Maggie was away. No, I haven't called Maggie yet, but say, I know this is goin' to sound strange, but please, don't tell anyone that Iblis has run away, will ya? Not even Emma or the Dillons, when you go for Christmas dinner tomorrow. Let me call Maggie, an' I'll see ya the day after tomorrow. Maybe he'll be home by then, who knows?....Thanks, Danny, thanks bundles, I'll call you if I see him here in town, an' catch him if I can." Orla puts the handpiece back into the cradle, then picks it up again immediately, and dials the number written in Assumpta's hand on the slip of paper. The call is picked up at the other end of the line.

"'Scuse me, is Maggie there? Yeah, thanks.........Maggie! Maggie, we just got back to the pub, an' Danny Byrne had left a message on the machine. Maggie, Iblis has gotten away, gotten out of the barn, an' we don't know where he's gone." Orla rests her forehead in one hand, as the other hand holds the phone to her ear. Maggie speaks on the other end of the line.

"Orla, don't worry, I know he's on his way to me. He's fine, he'll be here by morning. I'll meet him out in the countryside, fix him up a sheltered spot and get a blanket on him, he'll be fine. Yes, I know, you want to know how he's going to get across the sea, but don't worry, he will, and he won't drown, either, really. I wish I could be more specific, but all I can say is don't worry, he'll be fine." Maggie's voice is confident, and Orla can tell she is not putting on a brave face, she really is not worried about the old stallion.

"All right, then, Maggie, I'll try not to worry. I've asked Danny not to tell anyone Iblis is gone, nobody's going to go out to see, anyway. We won't tell O'Connor, either, I won't let him be forewarned. Are you going to tell him where you are, or are you going to make him wait until you come back. Are you coming back, Maggie, or has Iblis gone because we'll never see either of you again?" Orla is clearly putting on a brave face, Maggie can hear the well-hidden but detectable sadness and worry in the younger woman's voice.

"I can't say 100%, Orla, but unless things go really wrong, then yes, Iblis and I will be back. He has a date with The Cat this spring, and he's going to be earning it, the old devil! I'm going to call tomorrow, during dinnertime, and I'll talk to James then, and he can come to Scotland to meet me, or fly home to America, whichever he chooses. No, don't tell him we've spoken, I want him off-balance, he deserves it, sending me that rubbish by courier, then having the cajones to show up on the doorstep and expect me to be swooning on a settee', waiting for him with baited breath!" The image of Maggie in a victorian gown, draped limply over a sofa, springs to Orla's mind, and she laughs out loud, her tension and worry evaporating. Connor smiles, and gestures for the phone.

"Hang on, Maggie, Connor wants to talk to you!"

"Well, Maggie, since Orla's laughing, I suppose you're already expecting that demon-horse of yours, and that you've told her you're both coming back next week, right? So, what's he goin' ta do, FLY to Scotland?"

"Dangit, Connor, how did you know!" Maggie laughs in turn, then continues "Say, the whole family's here, and were going to have supper, then get ready for midnight church services, so I plan to sleep late tomorrow, but I'll call and talk to you all after dinner tomorrow, all right? How about two or three o'clock?... Fine, then, okay, 'bye for now!" Maggie hangs up, as does Connor. Orla stands, and she and Connor give each other a huge bear-hug of an embrace.

"Orla, I admit, even just a few days here at the pub, an' I was already feelin' trapped! I'm so glad Maggie's comin' back!" Connor's curly light brown locks entangle Orla's fingers as she reaches upwards to pull his face down towards hers.

She whispers, nose to nose, "Me, too!" and kisses her lover very soundly on the lips. They break off for air a minute later, and Connor sweeps the lithe blonde woman off her feet, and begins to carry her upstairs, just as the kitchen door opens. Whispering "Damn!" in unison, Connor sets Orla down, and they both turn and go through the doorway into the kitchen to greet their single guest.

"I saw the lights go on at the pub, and came down to invite you up to the rectory for supper, Aidan knows you must be tired, and have dinner tomorrow to fix, so he suggested it." James O'Connor seems happier than he has been in days.

"Sure, Father, let us grab our coats. Say, you look bright and happy tonight" Orla remarks.

"Well, I suppose I needed to decorate a church to really get into the Christmas spirit. This is the first time in a few years that I've done that, not since I retired from my own parish. We didn't decorate much at the monastery, you know! Honestly, the 'simplicity' was depressing, it never felt like Christmas or Easter or any other holiday there, with no change but the color of the altar linens! I need a little holly and some pine wreathes, some tinsel and lights, or it just isn't quite Christmas, somehow!" James O'Connor laughs, and for the first time Orla and Connor see the man underneath the priest, and the ghost of the handsome young fellow he must have been, almost rollicking with good humor, and they find themselves liking him. Orla smiles and dashes upstairs, and she and Connor don their coats and follow the silver-haired man out the kitchen door again, locking it.

"So, you were in a monastery, you and Aidan have alot in common, then!" Orla comments on the walk up to the rectory.

"Yes, though he started his vocation in a house, and has moved to a parish, and I did it exactly the opposite." O'Connor answers.

"Father, I'm sorry, but I have to ask, when you had been a priest for so long, why did you leave?" Orla presents a sincere face.

"So Maggie didn't tell you about me? Did she tell you about the letter I sent her, last fall?" The trio nears the door of the rectory. Knowing that she is either going to have to baldfaced lie in front of her brother, or reveal more than she wants to, she opts for what she hopes is a median course.

"We've heard a little bit from Maggie, but we would like to hear your side of the story." Connor knocks on the rectory door, and Aidan opens it. The three enter and remove coats again, and move to the tiny rectory kitchen.

"Well, Aidan's heard most of it, but really, it boils down to one thing. I've been in love with Maggie MacAllister since the day we met, and finally, I realized I just couldn't live without her another day." James O'Connor sits down a bit heavily, he is suddenly tired.

Aidan begins to lay out plates and mugs, and sets a large pot of soup on the table. Orla, having lived with Aidan in the rectory at one time, naturally moves to add flatware, then a basket of sliced bread, clearly some of Aidan's homemade, joins the soup. Connor, Aidan and Orla join James O'Connor, sitting down, and Aidan again recites the blessing, then begins to serve his guests the simple supper.

Orla and Connor say nothing, not daring to delve further into O'Connor's past lest they reveal their detailed knowledge. Aidan and James make small talk, discussing the Christmas masses and readings, Aidan asking the older man's advice and opinions on sermon topics. James soon gets deeply involved in the "shop talk", and Orla and Connor exchange glances over the heads of the two clerics, who almost seem to have forgotten there are laypeople present. Supper goes quickly, and Aidan is soon rising to pour more hot water into a pot for more tea. Orla pours out before the tea becomes undrinkable by anyone but her brother or a dragon. She and Connor sip some tea, and Orla addresses their guest.

"So, Father, will you be coming back to the pub tonight, or are you going to stay in the rectory here?" She sits back in her chair.

"I don't know, Orla, Aidan and I hadn't discussed it!" James O'Connor looks at the young priest, the question on his face.

"You're welcome, of course, Jim, but all your clothes and such are at the pub, surely you'd be more comfortable there?" Aidan answers.

"Well, that's true, and I am actually getting tired. You won't be insulted if I skip midnight Mass, Aidan, and come tomorrow morning instead?"

"Not at all, Jim, please don't feel pressured, you've worked so hard today, no wonder you're tired!" Aidan is secretly relieved, he has felt like a novice again, nearly as scrutinized as when he was first curate in BallyK and Frank MacAnnally watched his every move.

"Well, that's settled, then, so if you don't mind, Aidan, I'd like to get back, I need to get a bit done for dinner tomorrow. Will you be able to come down for dinner about one or so, is that too early?" Orla stands and slides her chair under the table, Connor following suit.

"One's fine, Orla, thanks, would you like me to bring anything?" Aidan also rises to see his guests out.

"No, Aidan, we have it all planned out, soup to nuts all covered." Orla smiles, and then hugs her brother briefly, then turns to put on her coat. Connor holds the door open, and Orla ducks under his arm, then turns, and waves briefly at her brother, wishing him "Happy Christmas, Aidan."

Connor Devlin steps through the doorway, followed by James O'Connor, who shakes Aidan's hand. Connor thanks Aidan for supper, and Aidan, wishing everyone "Happy Christmas", and then "Goodnight", closes the door. The trio walks back down towards the pub past mostly dark storefronts, but hearing in the distance the sound of voices from houses further away as families gathered for the holiday laugh and talk. They soon reach the pub, and Connor pulls out the keys and opens the front door, turning on the lights again as he enters. He glances swiftly at the message machine, and is relieved to see no blinking.

"I'll go on upstairs, if you don't mind, I really do feel worn out, and tomorrow's a busy day, too. Say, did Maggie call today, while we were all out?"

Orla walks to the answering machine, pushes the button, and listens as the recorded voice plays "No new messages."

"Nope, Father, she didn't call. She's visiting family, and is probably busier than we are!"

"Yes, you're probably right....." James O'Connor's voice and shoulders both sag, and he turns to climb the staircase. Orla and Connor wait until they hear his room door close, then turn to the kitchen. Connor checks to make sure the goose marinating in the refrigerator gets turned to evenly baste and absorb the seasonings. Orla checks her recipes again, setting out the ingredients for the American-style biscuits she plans to make, having enjoyed Maggie's production of them many times in the last few years. The dessert pies were baked the day before, Orla knowing she was going to be busy on Christmas eve. The pair are satisfied they are as ready as they need to be for dinner the next day, and soon turn out the light and go upstairs as well. Lights are soon out, and the three quickly drift off to sleep.

The next morning James O'Connor is up early, dressed for church, and out the door while Orla and Connor are still sitting and sipping tea and discussing how long the goose needs to roast. O'Connor is secretly suprised that his host and hostess show no inclination to come to church themselves, but unwilling to be pushy about it. Time moves swiftly, and almost before he realizes, he is back at the pub, asking if he can help. Politely refused, he returns to his room and actually has a nap. He awakens to Aidan knocking on his door, calling him to dinner.

Soon the four sit down to dinner, which proves to be delicious, though containing items of food O'Connor is only vaguely familiar with. As the four lean back and sip liquids to fill in the cracks in otherwise stuffed stomachs. As they rest, the phone rings. Orla gets up to answer it.

"Maggie, hi, Happy Christmas!" Orla's response spurs James O'Connor to stand. "Yeah, we're fine, just finished dinner. Say, there's someone here who really, really needs to speak with you, let me put him on." And Orla hands the reciever to James O'Connor.

"Maggie? Hi, honey, Merry Christmas! I'm so sorry I missed you, where are you?" O'Connor's voice is plaintive.

"James?!" Maggie puts all her effort into sounding suprised. "What in the world are you doing in my pub?!"

"But Maggie, didn't you get my letter? The courier service I sent it by reported they had delivered it. I wondered why you never answered it."

"Yes, I got the photocopies of your dispensation papers, but there was nothing else, just those, and no return address, or I'd have written back and told you to stay where you were, as I didn't want to see you! When we 'spoke' at the end of October, I thought I made myself perfectly clear!" Maggie puts indignation in her voice.

"But Maggie, we need to see each other, we need to talk! I've come halfway around the world to see you, given up everything for you!" O'Connor's voice is even more loaded with pleading.

"James, I don't know what more we have to say to each other, but since you have indeed come all the way here, I suppose I ought to do you the courtesy of hearing you out. I must warn you, though, do not expect me to change my mind, I am not going to. Do you have a pen and paper handy?"

"No, wait a minute....." Orla hands the ex-priest writing materials, and soon he is writing down addresses and phone numbers.

"James, please hand the phone back to Orla, thank you... Orla?" Maggie asks.

"Yeah, Maggie, anything else?" Orla answers back.

"Yes, dear, please book him a flight for the 27th, if you can, or get him to the ferry and get him a train ticket, I'll meet him at the station here. Use the charge card in the dresser in my room, I authorized you on it before I left. I'll bet he's flat broke, and couldn't even pay his bill at the pub if we dunned him for it. I won't interrupt my family Christmas for him, but they'll understand me meeting an 'old friend' for a short time a couple of days after the holiday. I'll disabuse him of his misplaced romanticism and send him packing, put him in a hotel for the night, and on a plane to America the next day, in a body bag if I have to, the pest! Then I can continue my vacation in peace, and come back on schedule."

Orla stifles the laughter bubbling up inside her, promising herself a good guffaw later. "Okay, Maggie, I'll take care of it, and call you if there are complications in scheduling or something."

"Thanks, dear, and I'll call Assumpta as well, and fill her in on what's going on. I think I can put her mind at rest, I am feeling more confident than I thought I would. With him so physically close, I ought to be getting alot more feedback than I am, especially with him right there in the pub! I think he must have managed a 'psychic skip' Samhain night, like radio waves bounce off clouds and get picked up by radios thousands of miles from the station that broadcast them. He's not trained, nor even very gifted, I think, and if he chooses the challenge, I'll pick my ley lines carefully, and go for the win, I'll take no prisoners!" What was confidence in Maggie's voice is steeled with gritty determination, Orla has a sudden mental picture of a woman clad in chainmail, with a longsword in her hands.

She inhales sharply, and replies, "Right then, Maggie, see ya, an' wish yer family 'Happy Christmas' from us, okay?" Hearing Maggie answer in the affirmative, and hang up, she also replaces the reciever of her phone. She returns to the table, motioning James O'Connor to follow her back into the kitchen.

"Orla, I think I need to use the phone to book a flight or something, I need to get over to Scotland as soon as I can." O'Connor sits back down at his place at the table.

"You'll not be able to do anything today, Father, but I'll get on it tomorrow morning, and either get you a flight or a ferry ride, if you prefer, and a train. Maggie said she'd pick you up when you get there. Leave it all in my hands, I'll take care of everything." Orla stands again, and goes to pull out the desserts she had planned, as well as making hot tea and offering coffee. O'Connor takes the coffee, and Orla notices that he treats it as Maggie does, causing her to wonder if all Americans load their beverages with sugar and cream on a grand scale.

"Okay, Orla, thank you, let me know what I owe you, and I can give you the traveller's checks to cover it." O'Connor sips his coffee. Orla serves dessert, and Aidan turns to the old priest.

"So, Jim, where will you pop the question, then, in the airport, or do you think you'll try and take Maggie out for dinner that evening, and ask her then?" Orla and Connor look at each other, Connor's eyebrow is quizzically raised, and Orla quickly runs her tongue over her teeth, then takes a large bite of the pie, closing her incisors on the tines of the fork enough to make a clicking sound. Connor smiles a small grin of understanding, and takes a bite of his pie as well.

Aidan and James are soon engaged in discussing wedding plans, O'Connor supremely confident that Maggie will be happy to marry him in Ballykissangel's lovely little church. They move out to the front room, settling in front of the fireplace. Orla and Connor say nothing, simply clearing the remains of dinner, storing leftovers in the cooler or freezer, putting dinnerware and flatware in the dishwasher. They join the two out front quickly, and offer movies, or a card game. Aidan looks at his watch, and begs to take his leave, he needs to make sure the church is back in order before the next morning's masses. O'Connor excuses himself as well, going upstairs to pack. Orla and Connor pick a movie to watch, and are soon snuggled under a wool throw. They exchange soft conversation.

"So, Maggie's not so worried, now he's actually here, eh?" Connor asks.

"No, she thinks he hit a lucky streak at Samhain, and she's going to set the challenge, if he demands it, on the ley lines, and let the sparks fly."

"Good," Connor nods, "I thought he felt quite weak when he first walked in the door, and I've been probing his shields harder and harder this past few days. He doesn't seem to notice he's almost under attack, I don't think he's got a bit of real training!"

"That's what Maggie thinks, he may have raw talent and willpower, he'd have to have that to last any time as a priest, but the lack of training is going to cost him. Obviously she doesn't think he's likely to serve as either a channel or an avatar, and, barring his god intervening directly, he's a goner. It's just up to him how far he wants to fight, she said she'd put him on a plane in a body bag if she had to!" Orla chuckles softly, Connor joining in.

When the movie ends, Orla and Connor unload the dishwasher, knowing that they will be open for business the next day, for a short day at least, depending on the traffic of possible customers. They check the taps, and the barrels downstairs, then go back to the kitchen for a light supper. James O'Connor does not join them, and they eat in companionable silence. They decide to turn in themselves, even though it is not very late.

The next morning, Orla keeps her word, and is able to book a convenient flight for the ex-priest. She waits for a slow moment or two to relay the information to Maggie, who jots it all down. The morning after Connor takes the old man to Dublin, with all his baggage, and sees him on his way. He then swings by the wine bar, where Peter and Assumpta are spare left feet, Bonnie having hired herself extra help anticipating the couple would take a honeymoon. After a brief discussion, Peter and Assumpta pack a couple of small bags, and follow Connor to BallyK. As the trio come into the kitchen through the back door, Orla is seen on the telephone. She is talking to Maggie, and after passing the phone to Assumpta for a brief time, Orla again speaks with Maggie, and hangs up.

Assumpta and Orla together gather the materials for a strong warding circle, and manage, by carefully watching, to get upstairs. Orla and Assumpta ward the area around her old bed, with Assumpta and her baby inside the circle at last, while Peter and Orla act as wardens. Connor is minding the pub, not much but an occasional regular in for a glass or a pint at most after the big holiday meals. Peter and Orla each take chairs to sit in, and settle in to wait.

Orla looks at her watch, and announces, "Won't be long, now".

Assumpta is relaxing on her bed, propped up on pillows, reading a book on pregnancy and childbirth. She looks up, smiles at Peter, and says, "Don't worry, dear, you won't have to do anything but break the circle for me when Orla gives us the 'all clear'."

Orla nods, she is sitting with her eyes closed and her mind wide open, waiting to see if any backlash comes their way. "So far, so good!", she says, and smiles. Peter's tension starts to leave him, seeing the confidence of his wife and Orla. He's not sure exactly what is really *happening*, if anything, but as long as Assumpta is calm and comfortable, he is content.

In the small airport on the western island off the coast of Scotland, a communter plane lands, having hopped from a major metropolitan airport earlier in the day. The passengers debark, and enter the terminal, one is a silver-haired man. At the interior gate, Maggie MacAllister stands, waiting. She is not smiling.