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Casey was convinced that whoever this man who held her captive was, he was not Duncan MacLeod. After her sixth day on the ship, she'd had enough.

"Good morning, my love," he said as he walked in the room. "I hope that today you will have breakfast with me."

"You’re not Duncan. I don’t know who you are, I don’t know what you are, but you’re not Duncan. Oh, you have his body. But you are not Duncan."

Without another word, he turned and left. She didn't see him for two days.

The door opened, and Duncan was literally tossed in. He had been badly beaten. She looked down at him where he lay on the floor, his face a mass of cuts and bruises, and into his eyes. She suddenly realized that this was the Duncan she knew…the Duncan she trusted…the Duncan she…loved. She helped him to the bed.

"Easy, lass, I have a few broken ribs," he groaned.

Casey did her best to make him comfortable while his body healed itself. She held his hand, gently brushed his hair from his face. "I knew that bastard wasn’t you!" she whispered, smiling down at him.

He smiled, and closed his eyes in pain. His healing was not yet complete.

"How did you…he…know where to find us? And how did you get there?"

Duncan tried to shake his head, and grimaced. "The last thing I remember is sitting in a cell at the SGC. They said I tried to…attack you," he said, his voice soft.

She smiled down at him. "Blame that fire crap."

"Lass, I don’t remember any of it. It’s as if…" he stopped, shifted a bit as his body continued to heal.

"As you weren’t in control?"

"Aye." He moved again. "Casey?"

"Mmm?"

"Move away from me," he said, strain beginning to fill his voice.

"Why?"

He looked up at her, and his eyes told her all. He was beginning to burn with the fire. It was back.

"There’s nowhere for me to go, Duncan."

He was gritting his teeth. "Casey, I don’t know how long I can fight this".

Casey knew what would stop the fire, at least temporarily. She knew that Daniel would understand. She loved Daniel with every beat of her heart. This would be nothing more than offering comfort and aid to a friend. "It’s alright, Duncan. I’ll quench the fire in you," she said softly.

His eyes went wide at her words, then softened with love. He reached up and brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. "You’re an angel, did you know that?"

She smiled, shook her head, then lowered her lips to his. His groan was a combination of pleasure and pain. She pulled his shirt from his trousers, and let her hands roam his chest. "Take me, Duncan, take what you need."

He rolled her to her back, his kiss desperate with desire. His large hands found and caressed her breasts. He opened the robe that she wore, the only clothing she had been allowed since being brought aboard the ship. He lowered his head and began to suckle, his hands and mouth moving over her breasts. She held his head, running her hands through his hair. Duncan looked into her eyes before he moved lower on her body. She nodded, and with a groan he slid down onto the floor. He pulled her to the edge of the bed, and put her legs over his shoulders. The first taste of her honey was like sweet water to quench the flames. He took his fill, noting somewhere in the back of his head that she was responding to his touch; her breath was coming quicker now, and every flick of his tongue against the hard nub at the top of her folds brought a quiver to her thighs.

Casey looked down at the man who knelt between her legs. She ran her hands through his hair, then pulled his head up so that he was looking at her. She patted the bed beside her, and as if in a stupor, he moved to sit beside her. She slid to the floor, taking her turn at pleasuring him.

Within a matter of minutes, Duncan was pulling her onto the bed. He positioned himself above her, and with one thrust entered her body. "I love you, Casey," he whispered as he moved inside her. "Never doubt that for a minute."

"I know, Duncan. I know," she replied softly. She gave to him until the fire that raged in his body was at last put out, and he emptied himself into her. Their breathing had not yet returned to normal when the door opened, and a tall, dark haired man entered the room. He took in the situation, and smiled wickedly.

"Perhaps I should have left the Highlander alone with you from the beginning, rather than try to control him myself," he said, his satisfaction at their predicament obvious in his eyes. "We will soon be on Lodonia. The Ceremony of Fire will be completed, and the two of you will bring forth a new race of Immortals."

Duncan carefully covered Casey, adjusted his own clothes, and stood to stare at the man. "Who the hell are you, and why do you think we’d cooperate with you in any way?"

"I am Framone. I created you, both of you."

Casey was on her feet now, standing behind Duncan, her face peeking over his shoulder. "Bullshit. The Ancients created us."

Framone laughed. "Oh no, my dear. I created you. Just as the Ancients created the first Immortals. Only I made each of you different, special."

"You programmed us," Duncan said.

The dark man nodded. "That is a simplistic way of putting it. Actually, I ‘programmed’ several dozen Immortals, for I was not sure who would be the "Strongest of Heart", I was sure of who would be the last, however," he said, looking directly at Casey. "My problem was bringing the two of you together. But, fate smiled upon me, and you came together without any guidance from me."

Casey studied the man. He was so arrogant, so sure of himself. "It must have been a real shock for you when I refused to go along with your plans. Kinda threw a monkey wrench into the works, so to speak."

The man’s eyes flashed. Definitely Goa’uld. An Immortal Goa’uld. This was not good. "The Registrar paid for his failure. Had he merely completed the ceremony when the two of you arrived at Lodonia, you would by now have had several children. Do not pretend that you have any chance of escape. Once we reach the planet, the rite will be performed, and you will begin breeding." He turned on his heel and left the room.

"Moo friggin’ moo," Casey said, her eyes glinting with anger as she stared at the door.

Duncan turned to look at her. "What?"

"Moo. As in cow. As in breeding stock." She threw herself onto the bed, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Duncan couldn’t help but laugh. "You’re delight, do you know that? Even in the midst of this…" he waved a hand in the air, "this madness, your sense of humor is working just fine."

Casey shrugged. "If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry."

Duncan settled himself beside her. "Don’t give up, Casey. Daniel won’t give up until he finds you." He pulled her into his arms.

She leaned back against him, seeking comfort. "How do you know he won’t?" She needed reassurance, needed to hear the words.

"Because I wouldn’t."

Casey stared at the door for a few minutes, wishing she could find the sensors for it, and open it. She had done a thorough search when she was first brought here, and had found nothing. Looking for some way to pass the time, she turned on her side, and put her head on one hand. "Tell me about Tessa."

Duncan looked startled. "Tessa?"

She nodded. "Yep. Tell me where you met, what was your first date with her like, what was it like the first time you made love to her."

Duncan hesitated, and then slowly began to talk. He told her of being chased, of jumping onto the tour boat, of flirting with her from the beginning, taken by her smile and blue eyes. As the memories began to fill his mind again, feelings long forgotten began to surface.

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