With the thing, you know?

(A short Genevieve thing that didn't make it into "Strange Meetings".)

I must have told you about Quickening munchies, right? I don't know what it is, but I get downright peckish when I've taken a head. So it was my usual-too much coffee, cheese danish, grapefruit, and bran muffin. And a Bloody Mary. My attitude is, if you have too much coffee-you need to self-regulate. Methos had coffee, the newspaper, and a nearly unceasing, but fascinating "take" on current events.

"Oh my god, Gennie Fowler! Imagine seeing you here!"

I knew that voice. It hummed through my head with a white-light zing that made an Immortal presence feel like a yawn by comparison.

Sheila Cannon. And family. Her husband was-as I could see out the window-in the mini-van. They had bought it two months before I "checked-out". She was carrying her youngest in her arms. And she was glowing.

"Sheil'. It's been too long."

"So, this is what you left Stephen for. Nice," she commented, giving Methos a once-over. So? He cleans up good. And then it dawned on me what she was saying. I wanted to laugh, but a perverse instinct reared its head. I ignored her.

"Well, Seacouver's a friendly little town," I said. "This is Adam. Adam, this is Sheila Cannon, and Mikey."

"Lots of interesting sights," she continued.

Give it up, woman, I wanted to scream. I didn't. I changed the subject.

"So, Sheil'. You look good. Kevin been taking care of you?"

"You could say that," she grinned, and then, her voice dropped an octave. "You will never guess."

I shook my head. I knew I never could.

"You know about the thing?" she asked, making a little cutting motion. Her kid began making noises. I reached out, and she let me take him. He shut up. Babies naturally like me. I have one of those faces, I guess.

"Yeah, I know he had the-uh, thing." Typical Sheila, not to say "vasectomy."

She paused before demanding, "Well guess what?"

That took me a few seconds.

"You don't say!" I said, trying to be happy for her. "Number three, even-your parents must be thrilled." The brat made a grab for one of my earrings.

"Nice, that, lady." The kid had taste.

I started prying his fat little fingers off of my gold hoop, and then paused, feeling a yank on something other than my hair. Three kids. Wow.

"But how did it happen?" I asked. "I mean, with the thing?" And now, she had me making the little cutting motion.

"I don't know, but I guess we were meant to be parents again," she said. And then she leaned down to pick up her kid, who was beginning to squirm away from me. She gave me a conspiratorial look. "You know-it's not to late for you to consider it. I mean, I know with Steve-that wasn't meant to be," she said, sympathetically. "But you know…"

"I'm not ready," I said. The topic was getting a little annoying. It was bad enough when Mom used to do it to me. All my friends, the girls I went to high school with-they are having kids. I'm not. I'm killing people.

I felt an odd, warm sensation. "Adam" took my hand.

"I'm not ready for her to have kids. I want her to myself for a while." He looked sincere. I want to lie as well as he does when I grow up. She looked just a little envious.

"Oh, Adam, you do say the sweetest things," I said, trying it on. It sounded really, really messed up. But I so appreciated his bailing me out of that conversation. I couldn't help but notice, though, how really nice and big Methos' hands are. Just really well made. I notice things like that. I tried to change the subject again, still giving my favorite old man a meaningless, meaningful look.

"So, Sheila, what brings you to Seacouver?"

"Oh, Kevin's parents. They wanted to see the grandkids. And we wanted to tell them the news in person. Oh-there's the carrot cake-does this place do it right?"

"I wouldn't know," I smiled, not looking at her.

"Oh well, I guess I'll find out. It was really good seeing you again, Genevieve."

"Likewise," I said, trying not to grit my teeth.

Once she was gone, I let go of Methos' hand, buried my head in my arm on the table, and laughed like, forever. It took me awhile to get sufficiently recovered to thank him.

"Oh…" I gasped. "You do not know what you just did for me. She means well. She really does."

"She wants to see you happy," he said. He didn't quite see the joke that I did. "For her, that means married with kids."

I went off into laughter again.

"What?"

"Can you picture me, with a sword in one hand, and a kid in the other?" I nearly knocked over my Bloody Mary.

He chuckled then. "A car seat in back, and a corpse in the trunk."

"I can't accept your challenge…I'm having trouble finding a baby-sitter." I was losing it. I couldn't stop gasping.

"Gen…you know we have done it-I mean, Immortals, "Methos said, suddenly serious. "We get married, adopt…it can happen. I've done it…and it is worthwhile."

"I know. I mean-it only stands to reason it could happen. I've thought about it. But, you know-the whole divorce thing. And I'm still grouchy from the Quickening. I can't take it all seriously, right now. I gotta…" and I jerked my thumb in the direction of the restrooms.

"Yeah."

Once safely hidden behind the bathroom door, I lost it-the other way. I'm in deep family trouble of the other kind. I get crank calls from evil people who know about the virus. I'm in the Game, which means I behead the occasional guy. I can't go back to Philadelphia, because of the heat there.

But I'm locking myself into a bathroom stall and crying my eyes out because I can still smell baby on me. And it's nice.

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