Subj: Collinsport -- 58
Date: 5/18/99 11:34:59 PM Central Daylight Time
From: DSRules

"Frankly, I haven't the foggiest notion how to test my theory." Azura admitted.

"You don't?" Quentin was suspicious of her confession.

"Actually, I do, but I don't think that you'll really allow me to set fire to it." She smiled at him.

He knew that she might think that would be an effective test, but that she was too cautious to actually want to try it. "Probably a good guess on your part." He smiled back.

"I have another idea, but you won't like it, either."

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow. "Try me."

"Well, I was thinking . . . ."

"Yes?"

She decided to get a running start. "I was thinking that I could ask my father. I mean, he's really knowledgeable about supernatural stuff, and he has a really extensive library. He might have a book that would give a way to tell for sure or something. And you don't have to worry about him telling anyone or anything. He's really good at keeping secrets." She knew that she was babbling, but there was no way to stop herself. "I don't think he knows about you, but he knows a *lot* of the stuff that goes on around here, and, as far as I know, he's never told anyone. He's never told anyone except for me about Barnabas, for example. Not that he was gossiping or anything, of course. He sort of had to tell me. He couldn't very well tell me that he
was Barnabas and Julia's son, born 30 years before Barnabas and Julia met, and not tell me how he got to be that way. And I think that I have a right to know . . . that about my grandfather."

"Whoa! Calm down!" He placed his hands gently on her shoulders. "If you think that your father is that trustworthy, then I guess I can trust him. We'll go over to his place tomorrow and ask him. OK?"

She smiled at this. "All right."

He wrapped his arm around her and they walked back downstairs.

* * * * *

The next morning, Rosario woke up and with her head on Neil's lap. "'Morning." Her old friend smiled down at her. "It's a good thing vampires don't need sleep." He said.

She gave him a melancholy smile. "You were here all night?"

"What are friends for? Now, are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"

* * * * *

Upon their return from the hospital, Barnabas escorted Julia into the living room. "Now, you stay here." He admonished her, settling her into her favorite chair.

"Barnabas, I'm perfectly healthy." She protested.

He would hear none of it. "Julia. I don't care what the EKG says, you nearly died yesterday. And I'm going to see that you don't overexert yourself so soon after being released from the hospital."

Julia pouted, as if she were disgruntled with his overprotectiveness, but she actually was pleased that he was as solicitous has he was. This tendency to want to mother his loved ones was what had made him a wonderful brother to Sarah, a wonderful father to Ben and Tori, and a wonderful husband for her. "If you insist." She settled back into her chair.

"I do insist, Julia. Now you stay right there. I'll go into the kitchen and get you a glass of water."

* * * * *

Once Rosario finished her story, Neil was aghast. "You sold your soul? For Barnabas? Again?" He asked.

"Well, yes, but not like I did before. I mean, the last time*, I did it so that I could get revenge on Barnabas for throwing me over for Josette. It was completely different this time. I had to, this time."

"You had to? Like someone was forcing you to?"

"No, I mean that I had to, like I couldn't let Barnabas suffer like that if I could fix it."

"Barnabas! Barnabas! Have you noticed that your life still revolves around Barnabas Collins?" He snapped.

"What?!?"

"Everything you've done in this incarnation has been to win him back. You haven't gone after him directly, of course. You're trying to win him back by doing things for him that he doesn't know about - saving his sister, curing his wife. Helping Quentin with his woman problems." He looked directly at her when he said this. "1795, 1840, 1897, 1968, 1999 . . . . That's enough.
I'm going to put a stop to it once and for all."

And with those words, Neil vanished without a trace, leaving Rosario to call after him. "Neil! Where have you gone? Neil!!!!"

She could have followed him, of course, but she had no intention of following him. Not if he was going where she thought he was going. "Well, say hello to Bangor for me." She whispered to the spot where he'd been standing.

* * * * *

Adam sat at his desk with his hands steepled in front of him. Azura and Quentin, who had just finished explaining Quentin's predicament and Azura's theory about the portrait, sat in his guest chairs on the other side of his desk.

He sat silently, thinking for several minutes. Finally, he spoke. "It seems to me that since you don't want to destroy the portrait outright, you'll need to separate it from yourself somehow. Erect a sort of barrier, so that it can't effect you or your descendants."

"What kind of barrier?" Quentin was intrigued.

"The best one I can think of is distance . . ."

"But I've traveled all over the world, and it still had the same effect on me as if it was in the next room." Quentin interrupted.

"I wasn't thinking of a geographical distance, but a dimensional or, preferably, a temporal one."

* * * * *

Barnabas was sitting in his office reading his incoming mail when he heard a voice behind him hiss, "You bastard."

Barnabas spun in his chair to face the tall, swarthy man. Barnabas felt that he recognized this man on some level, but where he had seen this man before eluded him. "What are you doing in my house?"

"I've come to give you what you deserve." The tall man snarled, grabbing Barnabas and pushing him up against the wall. The man put his hands around Barnabas' throat, pinning him. "You're just an old man." The newcomer snorted derisively. "I oughta turn you again, just so I can have the pleasure of kicking your ass." Barnabas saw the glint of fangs in the corners of the man's mouth.

"But I won't." The man released Barnabas, who rubbed his neck, wondering if his neck was going to be bruised. "You know why I won't? Because she loves you. After everything you've done to her. She still loves you. And hurting you would hurt her worse than anything I could possibly do to her."

"Who are you talking about?" Barnabas demanded.

"Angelique, of course. Who else? Who else would give up her life to bring your sister back to you? Who else would do whatever she could to save Julia's life to spare you the pain of watching your wife," he snarled the last two words, "die?"

That was the final piece Barnabas needed to be able to place where he had seen the other man before. He remembered the bat that attacked him in 1795, of course, but just before he lost consciousness, he saw the bat turn into a man. This man. The bat and the man had both been long gone by the time he regained consciousness, of course, and Barnabas was never certain that the man that he thought he had seen had really existed.

"B-but you can't come in here." Barnabas stammered, trying to work up the courage to face his "sire" for the first time in over 200 years. "I haven't invited you."

The other man smiled. "You don't need to invite me in, Barnabas. I know that Angelique lifted the curse, but my cells are still there, in your blood-stream. And where you go, I can always follow. Remember that."

And with those words, the vampire disappeared.

Subj: Collinsport -- 59
Date: 6/4/99 12:23:38 AM Central Daylight Time
From: DSRules

"In fact, I think I have exactly the plan I'm looking for." Adam stood up from behind his desk. "Could you give me a minute?" Adam stepped out of his office and across the bullpen of computer programmers to Sarah's desk.

"Sarah," Adam began. "Did you ever return those books that I loaned you? I can't remember if you did or not."

Sarah grinned at him sheepishly, reaching into her desk drawer. "Actually, I brought them back a while ago, but I never . . . Exactly returned them to you." She handed them to her employer.

"Thanks. That's exactly what I needed." Adam made as if he were going to walk away from her desk, then turned to face her again. "I need a place to store something for about 20 years or so. Do you think you have room in the basement at Collinwood for it?"

She blinked. "Of course we do. Just as long as you're not afraid that it'll get lost in all of the other accumulated Collins family crap down there."

He smiled. "I don't think that'll happen."

* * * * *

After the vampire disappeared, Barnabas walked the floor for several minutes. He moved the pieces of his visitor's statements around in his mind, trying to make sense of it.

{After everything you've done to her. She still loves you. And hurting you would hurt her worse than anything I could possibly do to her. . . . Who else would give up her life to bring your sister back to you? Who else would do whatever she could to save Julia's life to spare you the pain of watching your wife die?}

He absently reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring he had kept there since taking it from Rosario. No, from. . . "Angelique." He whispered that one word as he suddenly realized why the young Latina seemed so familiar to him. Why he'd wanted so badly to kiss her the first time they'd met. Why she'd been wearing his late wife's wedding ring.

"Oh, my God. She was Angelique."

* * * * *

Back in Adam's office, Azura and Quentin quizzed her father on what he intended.

He wouldn't answer, except to tell them that they'd see what he had in mind that night, when they came to leave the portrait in the basement at Collinwood.

* * * * *

Barnabas felt like a fool, trying to give his wife of 27 years a good explanation for why he'd suddenly be going away for several days, without telling her that it was to see Angelique. Finally, he managed to stammer out a reasonable excuse, "You see, Julia. I took something, accidentally, from Javier's sister, and it's rather . . . valuable, so I can't trust a courier or anyone else to return it to her. I must do it myself."

"You could always insure the package, couldn't you?" She asked.

"No. It's not really valuable in terms of money." He said, ignoring how much the ring cost him when he had it made, and how much more it would be worth, now that it was an antique. "It's a family heirloom. So you can see why I need to take it back to her myself."

Her eyes narrowed. He knew that she could tell that he wasn't telling her the entire truth. "Yes. That makes perfect sense, Barnabas."

And so it was, that with a delight bordering on euphoria, and, at the same time, a heart that felt filled with lead, that Barnabas got into the cab that was to take him to the Bangor International Airport.

* * * * *

Hours later, Barnabas' plane landed in San Antonio. Laying his garment bag containing a change of suit with his toiletries stuffed in the bottom over his arm, he stepped out into the muggy June heat to catch a taxi.

After the cab driver put Barnabas' bag in the trunk, he asked. "Where to, sir?"

Barnabas thought long and hard, trying to remember where Rosario had said she worked. "SBC Communications?"

"Their Houston office?"

"Houston? Aren't they in San Antonio?"

The cab driver smiled. "Houston Street, sir."

Barnabas shrugged. "That must be the one."

The driver turned on the meter and took the 281 South exit from the airport.

* * * * *

Azura and Quentin turned up on Sarah's doorstep just as Sarah arrived home from work. "Hey! What are you doing here?" She asked as she exchanged hugs with her niece and cousin.

"We're supposed to be meeting my Dad." Azura explained. "Is he here yet?"

"I don't know. I thought he was still at the office when I left." She noticed the crate that leaned up against Azura's car. "What's that?"

"That? Oh . . ." Azura began.

Quentin came to her rescue. "That's what Adam wanted you to store for us. It's an old family portrait. And not a particularly good one at that."

"Really? A portrait of whom?" Sarah asked, her curiosity piqued.

"My great-grandfather. Quentin Collins. They say that we look a lot alike." Quentin answered.

Sarah nodded. "We have a couple of portraits of him around. You do look like him. Almost enough alike to be twins."

"Well, you know how the Collins genes work. There are only so many faces to go around in this family." He smiled at her.

"Well, why don't you two come in . . ." She was interrupted by Adam's arrival.

"Sorry I'm so late." He said. "I see that you brought . . ."

"My great-grandfather's portrait." Quentin supplied.

Sarah opened the door. "Why don't you all come in?"

As they stepped into the foyer, Quentin glanced at his watch. It was 5:15. Still three hours before the moon rose and would test Azura and Adam's theory. "Adam? Shouldn't we be . . ."

"Of course. Sarah, do you mind if we take this downstairs?" Adam indicated the crate containing the portrait.

"Not at all. Would you like to stay for dinner after you're done?"

Quentin smiled at her. "I'd really love to, but Azura and I have . . . other plans tonight."

Sarah seemed slightly crestfallen. "Oh. Well, maybe later, then."

"Definitely." Azura smiled at her aunt.

"Well, let's get this show on the road, then, shall we?" Adam said as he picked up the crate and led the way to the basement.


* In 1795