Auld Lang Syne

The four of them left the lobby and found Angus throwing their suitcases into the back of the strangest HUM V any of them had ever seen. A Scottish flag was painted on the back of the vehicle and the doors were done in tartan patterns.



Crawford rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. “Nothing like being inconspicuous.”



Angus came around the vehicle and pounded him on the back so hard it nearly sent him flying across the hotel driveway.



“You should be more proud of your roots, Brad.”



“I am. I’m just not obnoxious about it like some people are. Do you have any idea what this is all about, Angus?”



Angus shrugged. “Your Gran is doing a full call of the clan. Tha’s all I know about it. Pile in, Lads. We’ve no time to waste. The ferry across to the island leaves at exactly five an it’s the last one for the night,” he said, unceremoniously stuffing Schuldig then Nagi into the HUM V. Farfarello let himself in via the open top of the vehicle.



Angus laughed and turned back to Crawford. “I like ‘em. They’ll fit right in with the rest of the family.”



Crawford inwardly groaned. “Of course you like them. They’re all insane. Except for Nagi.”



“Ah, the lad is too, he just hides it as the other two don’t bother.”



“That may very well be,” Crawford said, sliding into the passenger’s side of the vehicle. He turned to his team and looked them over for a moment before saying, “I suggest you put on your seatbelts.”



Schuldig smirked a little. “Herr Crawford, I’m used to Autobahn. I don’t think the big guy can scare me that much.”



Crawford shrugged. “Suit yourself. But don’t say you weren’t warned.”



Angus grinned into the back seat. “Off we go!” he said cheerfully and hit the ignition. The sudden blare of bagpipes from the MP3 player attached to the vehicle’s stereo system caused everyone to jump and Schuldig to cover his ears. Nagi looked startled for a moment before relaxing and began humming the tune playing to himself. Farf looked at him oddly for a moment before shrugging it off. There was no accounting for taste and if the kid liked bagpipes who was he to judge.



***



A cool wind swept along the hillside where a young woman stood waiting and watching the dock. A sudden gust blew small petals of the blooming heather around her and the strains of a melody came into her mind. She smiled widely and bounded down the hillside, flashing around clumps of trees and into the yard of the stately old castle, singing bits of the song.



“I am immortal. I have inside me blood of kings. I have no rival. No man can be my equal.”



She skirted around the rows of late summer vegetables and herbs in the garden, narrowly missing the patch of rosemary by the gate.



“Mama, Da, Alec, Cat! Brad’s home!” she called, bursting through the door to the kitchen.



“Don’t shout so, Bonnie. Finally!” the older woman said, carefully wiping off the knife she’d been chopping vegetables with. “I’ll go tell your father. Cat, would you finish these, please?”



“Sure, Mom,” Cat said, picking up the knife and twirling it between her fingers.



“Do not throw that at your brother.”



“Take all the fun out of it, Mom. Can I poison his coffee instead?” she said, smiling maliciously at the man sitting at the table. He was glaring at her over the top of the Wall Street Journal and holding his hand protectively over his coffee cup.



“Why couldn’t you have stopped with me, Mom?” he asked dryly.



“It’ll be so good to have the whole family together,” their mother said, starting off into the other room. “Bonnie, go see if they’re in from the docks yet.”



“Will do, Mama,” the younger woman said, darting out of the room. “Brad’s home, Brad’s home, Brad’s home!”



“I just hope he survives the visit,” Alec said.