Tucked away in a corner of the basement, somewhere not too close to the Master's wine cellar, is the room of Attilla-the-HunE. The rooms are fairly large as Master was feeling generous and a little apologetic for banishing the poor old thing the way he had. He couldn't take back what he'd said though. It would set a most unfortunate precedent. Hell, they might even expect him to allow Cassandra inside then and that would never do. Nope, she'd just have to prove herself. He trotted down the stairs, intending just to take a peek and see how she'd fixed the place up. It really was gloomy down in this corner. He almost imagined he could hear screams coming from the dungeon and he knew they had no visitors at the time. He shivered involuntarily. Poor Attilla. What an awful homecoming this would be.

He rounded the corner toward her rooms and heard laughter. "Noooooooo Susanna, that goes on the ceiling so I can look at it when I go to sleep!" Poking his head into the room, he spotted the object of their conversation - a full-length, full-color poster of himself purchased he had no doubt at that Anglicon thing where they'd met the rambunctious Attilla. He still wondered what in the name of Hades had possessed him to attend in that toga after he'd sworn to the ladies he absolutely would NOT go at all.

Sauntering into the room, he glanced around. "Well, Attilla, how're we coming," and immediately wished he'd phrased the question a bit differently as both women (he really couldn't call Attilla a lady) burst into laughter. "Come on in and we'll show you," they chorused. He started to back out. "Maybe later," he said, thinking to himself "When I've got more backup, than just Susanna to keep this harridan off me." "No, NOW!" screeched the banshee and grabbed him by the wrist, hauling him further into the room.

The pale grey stones had been scrubbed until they gleamed and the soft blues and greens that tinted them shone through glinting with tiny strands of silver. Not bad, once you got the dust and cobwebs off, he thought. It really was nice of Susanna to offer to help her ditzy friend, but that was part of what he loved about his harem. They were so willing to help those less fortunate and boy, Attilla certainly qualified. He was really glad he'd had the fireplace built in the far wall, though. He imagined it could get fairly cold down here, even without windows. The tunnel which led off from the right was hardly insulated and he remembered the wind whistling down through it when he'd first purchased the place and gone to check it out. He poked his head through the large archway in the wall to the right of the tunnel. "Ah," he murmured. "The bath?" "Yep," sighed the women and dragged him forward.

The bath was a large, natural-appearing cavern. Two waterfalls coursed down the walls, one for showering he assumed since it seemed to be warmer than the other, which plunged into a fairly large sized bathing pool. "Hummmmmmm," he thought. "Big enough for any number of leisurly pursuits." He noticed the stone benches along the sides of the pool and wondered when those had been installed. "You said we could do whatever we wanted in here," Susanna reminded him gently. "Well, yes, but isn't this rather expensive?" he asked plaintively. "I mean, come on, I'm just a guy not the Maharaja of Zimbabwe." "Attilla likes to read in the tub, Master, and she wanted to make sure the books wouldn't get wet." "Oh, well, that's understandable then; I have an enormous fondness for my books, too." He smiled at Attilla who smiled back. Maybe there was something salvageable there after all. Hell, if she liked books, she couldn't be all bad. Despite her proclivities toward violence, he might actually grow to LIKE her. He glanced around a bit more, noticing the niches set into the walls which held the linens and toilet articles. "Not much of a one for perfumes and scents are we old girl," he thought to himself. Herbal soaps and shampoos, toothpaste in natural mint and orange flavors - UGH! There was a large flattish rock next to the 'shower'. "What's that for," he asked pointing. "You can lay your robe and towel on it when you take a shower. That way they don't get wet if you splash." Attilla was grinning mightily. "Uh, why would you be splashing in the shower dear Attilla," he asked quietly, just a hint of a threat in that brushed velvet voice. "Uh, maybe 'cause I've got company and we're having fun," she said, pinching his tush and making him jump. He smiled, showing teeth. "Do that again and I'll break that hand." One other thing he noticed which surprised him considerably. There were no mirrors in the bathroom. All the other amenities were there in one form or another, but not a mirror in sight. "Says something about the wench," he thought sadly. "Maybe she's a bit more insecure than we thought."

Aloud, he said "Quite nice ladies. Shall we get on with the tour?" He glanced around once more, wondering where the light was coming from, then noticed the silver torches lining the walls. "Thought vampires couldn't stand silver," he joked. Attilla stared. "That's an old-wives' tale. They don't mind silver as long as you don't stick 'em with it. It does tend to burn, if you get it right next to the skin, though." Those green-gold eyes of hers were starting to make him uncomfortable. Combined with the longish incisors, she looked almost wolflike. He flinched and looked away.

"Shall we go back to the bedroom," he asked taking each of them by the arm and marching determinedly toward his favorite area in any of the ladies' quarters. Such pleasant times he had with his ladies. Every one of them a jewel and a joy. He glanced at Attilla. Well, maybe not EVERY one of them. There were possibilities here, but it would take an enormous amount of work and he wasn't at all sure it would be worth it. He was not one to give up without a struggle though and he'd be damned if he'd let this little person defeat him.

Flopping down on the king-sized bed prominently displayed in the center of the room, he waved a hand lanquidly. "Well," he said. "Let's see what we've got shall we?"

Susanna and Attilla leapt to obey. Proudly they pointed out a large recess nearly hidden by shelves holding myriad books. "This is the closet, Master." He stood up for a better look. A woman's closet could tell a great deal about her. Gods! Jeans, sweaters, and shirts hung on the bars along the walls. Lord, she dressed like him in his Adam Pierson persona. Oh, wait, there was a skirt or two in there. The shoe rack held hiking boots, tennis shoes, loafers and the knee-high boots she had trampled him with at Anglicon. This woman needed some serious help and he was determined to get it for her. Mortals!

Other niches and shelves set into the walls held stereo equipment and a collection of CDs. He stalked over to see what her taste in music was like. Well, a little more ecletic than the Highlander. At least there was a little Queen, a Springsteen or two, some Moody Blues - he hadn't heard them in a while - Foreigner, Journey, Sonny & CHER(??!!!), Kansas (oh, please not Dust in the Wind), Styx, Pink Floyd, Alan Parsons, quite a bit of blues and country here, too.

He ran a finger along the rows of books. Ummmmmmmmm. Isaac Asimov, he'd always liked the Foundation series. Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time, now there was an interesting work. If only the man would FINISH it. Quite a few mysteries (Tony Hillerman, Lillian Jackson Braun, ah Dick Francis - the racing world had always fascinated him). Some of the classics here, too. He recognized Plato's Republic, The Iliad, the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius and Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. There were also quite a number of battered paperbacks: Star Trek: TNG and DS9, P.N. Elrod's Jonathan Barrett series and Laurell Hamilton's Anita Blake; all the Highlander novels were there, too. Well, he didn't mind - he at least got a mention in two of them.

Bronze cast horses, crystal and pewter unicorns and dragons were scattered amongst the books and CDs. Pictures of two young boys were displayed prominently on the shelves. "Who are they," he asked. "My sons - Brian is 15 and Jaymes is 10," Attilla said proudly. "They really like you, by the way." Methos almost smirked, imagine him as a role-model for two innocent young boys. He looked at the pictures again. That little one didn't look all that innocent; quite the little devil in fact. He could tell by the gleam in the eye and the grin on the face. Bet he tormented the hell out of older brother.

A large fluffy rug in colors of black and grey lay in front of the hearth surrounded by huge pillows in shades of blue, green and violet. Perfect for lounging, reading or whatever came to mind. Any number of things came to mind when he thought of his ladies. A low table also stood in front of the fireplace and held a silver tray with two crystal goblets and an iced crystal pitcher of some orange liquid. "What's that?" "Orange juice, Master. Want a glass?" He shuddered. "No, thanks, got any beer?"

The two women looked at each other, then raced to the refrigerator set in the alcove opposite the fireplace wall. "Nope," they shouted in unison, "but we do have Snapple." He groaned. "How about a Dr. Pepper, Pepsi, Iced tea - raspberry or lemon?" He groaned again. She WAS impossible. He would just have to throw her out and to hell with being Mr. Nice Guy. Any Harem member who wouldn't keep a few nice cold beers in the room didn't deserve him. He looked at Susanna who was positively beaming. No, he really couldn't do that to her. She was having such fun helping the new member decorate and teaching her how to behave. He just hoped his kindness wouldn't lose him his head. "Never mind, I'll do without."

He flopped down on the bed again and stretched out like a cat in the sun. Nice, plenty of room for reading and there were lots of books set into the shelves in the headboard, too and reading lamps built right in. Why you could do almost anything in this bed: read, watch the TV set conveniently across from the bed, romp - now there was a thought - or even sleep. He noticed the silver torches lining the walls in this room, too. "How come," he asked pointedly. "Why all the torches?" "So's you don't stub your pretty toesies coming in and going out," chortled Attilla. He almost glared. What was with her and the double entendres anyway? "And so I'll have some light when I work on all the stories I'm going to write about this place." She trotted over to the large computer desk set into another alcove of the huge room. It held a fairly decent computer, reams of paper, printer and a number of instruction manuals on how to operate the thing. "I need instuctions 'cause I keep forgetting what to do with it," Attilla said humbly. He grinned. "Maybe I can help you there," he said standing and walking over to the desk. "I'm pretty good with my hands and have done lots of work with computers. In fact," he said proudly, "I set up the whole Watcher network, although come to think of it that wasn't such a good idea."

Attilla and Susanna looked at each other. "We'll just bet you're good with your hands no matter what you're doin' with 'em," they both said and burst out laughing. Methos started to laugh, too, then staggered back and fell on the bed. The two women tumbled after him and started to tickle in some of the most sensitive places. "Stop it," he begged, but they would have none of it and kept right on. Eventually, a number of the other harem ladies heard the commotion and came in to join the fun. "Things will certainly NOT be dull around here," Methos thought to himself wiping tears from his eyes and appreciating even more the large bed. "I may never tame any of them, really, but who the hell cares!"
 

I'll share the basement with Attilla. We'll share her bath/pool, and I plan on running the Laboratory. My bedroom will be functional - king size bed, soft carpet, soft lights. And just off from there will be the darkroom - film developing and printing, only the best color equipment. Also, a state-of-the-art studio. No longer must we go out of the castle to forge documents! I'll gladly do them on sight. Video equipment can also be discreetly distributed (I can keep secrets!) Might also be the spot for the main computer terminal and security. Good to keep them cool. And Attilla knows her computer security!

Careful from which door you exit my room: one could lead upward to the Castle proper; one could lead into the cavernous bath where 'tilla and who knows *what* else could be found (bats and plants, most likely!); and one could lead you into the Castle's massive darkroom -- just watch the light above the door!
 

The door to Galen and Ladyhawke's suite opens on to their shared living room. An entertainment center dominates one wall, with all the latest electronic gadgets neatly arranged — TV, VCR, DVD player, stereo, movies, music, small refrigerator and microwave. A huge recliner and a papasan chair are situated opposite the entertainment center, with a big comfy couch centered between the two. Big pillows are scattered around the room. A big black cat with yellow eyes — Halloween, or Weenie for short — blinks sleepily from one. Big wooden bookcases line the walls, leaving space for a large fishtank in one spot.

One corner of the room is obscured by dark blue velvet curtains. Behind them sits a small mahogany dining room table and four chairs. A big china cabinet sits to one side, the dishes and crystal neatly arranged inside. One drawer in the cabinet holds the Grand Baroque sterling silver set, with other silver items tucked in the lower cabinet — champagne bucket, platters, candleabras and so forth. Another blue curtain hides the doorway to the well-stocked wine cellar.

To the left of the main room.....Galen's rooms

Walking into this small unique suite of rooms, you notice immediately the dark mahogany bookshelves lined by the thousands with journals, books (antique and brand new combined) and artifacts. Candles are placed strategically around the room, and a marbled fireplace rests on the southern wall. Hidden in the corner of the room stands a secretary, and a dress form. Layers of ecru silk and tapestry hang from it as the nearly completed 14th century gown beckons to be worn.

To the left of the entrance you find yourself presented with one of the most intricate and updated collection of computer and surveillance technology systems discretely camouflaged within an oak armoire and entertainment center. Truly had you not been told of Galen's past affiliations with a covert organization, you would never have known what you were looking at. (The Master kindly indulges her.)

It is, however, the vibrant bouquet of flowers placed artfully on a simple three-tiered square table, that draws your attention across the room to a small alcove, which upon arrival you discover is actually the entrance to another, smaller room. The contrast between the two rooms at the moment is startling. Gone is the darkness, arrived is the light. Three walls of windows greet you as you realize that you are now in a bedroom, dressed in Indian and Persian motifs. The mosquito netting drapes from the corners and ceilings in graceful shags and sways — encompassing and concealing from view a large bed. Over-stuffed cushions in various browns and a few other more  vibrant colors are tossed about.

French doors lead up onto a raised terrace decorated with marble sculptures and pottery. A well- tended medicinal herb garden is nestled nearby waiting to be of service to the Master and her sisters. Worn stone steps lead down from the floor to take you through a small private garden filled with a rather bountiful amount of weeping willows that rest arbor-like along both sides of a wandering stream. At the end of the peaceful walkway is a bridge that crosses you over to a gazebo. The Victorian lattice work holds an elegance fitting to the English garden, and you find yourself extremely tempted to just sit for a while and overlook the landscape until you notice a small spiraling staircase leading underneath the gazebo and into a room of equal splendor. This is actually where you will often find her, among her favorite books, the quiet black tabby curled on the full-sized futon, and another computer system tucked into the corner of the room. But wait, what's that peeking out from under her pillow?
 

To the right of the main room......Ladyhawke's room

The walls in Ladyhawke's bedroom are painted a light silvery-gray with thick matching carpet. A huge skylight lets in lots of light, but the quick press of a button rolls a cover into place when needed. Along one wall is a fireplace with plenty of space to stretch out before it.

A king-sized waterbed dominates the room. The bedspread is a Celtic knotwork pattern in red and black with silvery accents woven through it. A handful of pillows rest at the head of the bed. The bookcase in the headboard is stuffed full — Stephen King, Anne Rice, Dean Koontz, historical fiction, a little of everything. A small nightstand to one side holds an alarm clock on top of it as well as a small lamp. The single drawer holds chapstick, an assortment of bookmarks, a bottle of lotion and miscellaneous junk. Ladyhawke's latest reading material sits on the shelf beneath the drawer, along with a box of Kleenex, and a bright red trashcan sits on the other side of the nightstand.

More bookcases line the wall beneath the skylight, all of them full, although photographs and knick-knacks take up some of the space. Ladyhawke's collection of Pocket Dragons cheerfully sit in front of many books along with souvenirs from various trips — seashells from Florida and Hawaii, a small pot from Acoma Pueblo and so forth. Stuffed monkeys sit along the tops, peering down at visitors.

A state-of-the-art computer sits on a huge desk in one corner with all its accompanying toys: scanner, surround speakers, color printer, etc. A small boom box sits within reach, CDs scattered haphazardly around it. Empty Dr. Pepper cans balance precariously nearby.

Just to the right of the fireplace is a doorway to the bathroom, which shares the fireplace with the main bedroom. The room is decorated warmly in greens and golds, with lots of blonde wood. A good-sized green jacuzzi bathtub is near enough that the heat from the fireplace keep the user warm while drying off. A wood towel rack sits within reach, fluffy towels draped over it. A shower big enough for two is tucked into an alcove near the toilet. The green marble sink is surrounded by counter space with a big mirror behind it. A wooden door that matches the towel rack hides the linen closet, which is to the left of the sink. The plush carpet — this time green — extends throughout the bathroom, ensuring no cold feet in the middle of the night.

On the right side of the fireplace is a full-length mirror, mounted on the door to the walk-in closet. Immediately to the right is the other side of the linen closet, accessible from both sides. On one side of the closet hang most of Ladyhawke's clothes — jeans, T-shirts, sweatshirts, tunic shirts, whatever's comfy. The other side of the closet holds the dresses and other long garments, especially the fluffy emerald green robe. Shelves and drawers line part of that side of the closet to hold shorts, sweatpants, shoes and whatever else gets shoved there. A laundry hamper sits neatly in the back corner, with clothes scattered everywhere from missed tosses.

In the depths of the closet, a remote keyless system slides a door back, turning the closet into a hallway to the tunnels.

The Tunnels

Back in the main living room, the push of a well-hidden button causes the entertainment center to swing outward, revealing a dark stone tunnel hidden behind it. Candle-like wall sconces light the way. A few yards down the tunnel and three other tunnels connect to it, one from Galen's chambers, one from Ladyhawke's. The third leads to a hot spring hidden deep beneath the castle. Around a corner and on the right is a heavy oak door. After a moment of tapping, Angel appears at the door, his hair mussed from sleep.

Still further down the tunnel and around a few more corners is a steel door with a lighted keypad beside it — Harem substation of Section One. Behind the door is a high-tech command center in cold sterile grays. Huge screens on three walls can produce satellite maps, computer files and images, virtually anything, at the touch of a button or a few keystrokes. Ten computer workstations with the latest equipment allow for uplinks with satellites and with the other Section One substations in the blink of an eye.

To one side, a heavy steel grate bars the way into another room. Behind the grate sit the Section's weaponry and mission gear — clothing, Kevlar vests and pants, communications links, PDAs, laptops, plastique, explosives, rifles, handguns and ammunition.

The tunnel forks, one path leading to the gazebo, the other continuing in the same direction. A bit of daylight is becoming visible. After zigging and zagging around a few more corners, the tunnel pours out on to the beach, far above the hightide line. Heavy boulders and overgrown trees and shrubs hide the entrance from view.
 

As you enter from the hallway, you see a large bedroom done entirely in black. Off to the left is the door to the bath, and off to the right is the walk-in closet. Opposite the door is a king-sized waveless waterbed covered in cream colored satin sheets and a midnight blue and cream bedding ensemble. There in a reading lamp mounted on the wall above the headboard. In the ceiling is recessed light fixtures. The light switch is next to the door. In the corner is a brick fireplace. Along the right hand wall is an entertainment center with a TV, VCR, and stereo. All of my favorite CD's are lined up on the shelf by artist. They range from country to classic to blues to classic rock, and everything in between. The only thing you won't find is rap, hard rock, or alternative. On the floor is a cream colored shag carpet. On the wall next to the bathroom is my dresser, where I keep my lingerie.

Moving to the bathroom, you see it is done in soft peach and white. Along the far wall, you see a Jacuzzi large enough for 2 or 3. There is a separate shower, also large enough for 2 or 3. On the wall next top the tub is a set of shelves where I keep my shampoos and my scented bath oils and bubble bath. On the right hand wall is a glass doored cabinet holding towels and below that is where I keep my incense and scented candles.

Going across to the closet, you notice bars hanging on 2 of the walls. The clothes are arraigned by type. My midnight blue "Southern Belle" ball gown is hanging in the back, along with it's hoop. Slacks, sweaters, and shirts hang to the right. Dresses and skirt outfits, to the left. Just inside the door is a shoe rack and a place for my formal gloves.

Here ends your tour of my room.
 

Methos stopped and stared into the room 'tilla and Susanna had just spent several days decorating. No, actually it was more of a gape. Yes, definitely a gape. "You don't seriously expect me to go in there unarmed, do you?" His voice held not a hint of the sarcasm they generally expected from him, and so, they nodded. Both of them blithly unaware of the long fingers hovering inches from their throats.

"It's perfectly safe," Susanna promised. For days the two had poured their little hearts and souls (though it could be argued strenuously that 'tilla possessed neither) into arranging quarters in the basement for a retreat for Master. He was not swayed. Or rather any swaying done was as a result of the dizziness that overtook him when he thought of sharing quarters with the abundance of fauna visible from where he stood.

"Nothing in there bites, *hard*," 'tilla added that last as almost an afterthought and Methos glared. He stepped closer and poked his head a bit inside. It *looked* relatively safe despite the wildlife lingering about. The birds were a bit noisy, but he could live with that. The cats, though, they might be another case entirely. He tiptoed gingerly inside and an ocelot glanced up at him with large topaz eyes. He grinned and the cat grinned back, then blinked, yawned and went back to sleep.

The floors were burnished to a deep shine, gleaming with bronze highlights in the light from dozens of candles. The walls were polished to the same deep luster. Shelves and drawers were built into the walls so they took up hardly any space at all leaving the floor empty save for the rugs and pillows scattered about in a riot of autumn color. And the cats. And the huge iron-wood four-poster standing in solitary splendor in the middle of the floor. The bed was decked in tawny silk and cluttered with pillows in chocolate and ivory, rust and gold, flame and avocado and pomegranate and pumpkin, clove and cinnamon and nutmeg.

Methos stepped over the sleeping cat and nearly collided with a large carousel horse, suspended on a brass pole hanging from the ceiling. He ran a hand lovingly over the polished saddle - an elegant affair in crimson and gold. The horse itself was a brilliant white winged creature and Methos grinned again and hopped aboard. From somewhere inside the walls, music began to play and the horse began to move. Slowly at first, then a trifle faster, a walk then a trot and a soaring glide; up and down and up again, the pattern repeating until he called a halt and dismounted - dizzy and giddy and laughing like a schoolboy. Luckily, the bed was not far off and he stumbled into it and flopped down watching the ceiling spin out of control.

"This has possibilities," he giggled and the two women grinned foolishly. "Not as a permanent abode, you understand," Master continued. "But as a temporary hideout, a retreat, a playroom if you will, it has definite possibilities." He sat up, somewhat woozily and fished about in the drawers built into the bed. "I'll really need a good supply down here, though," he muttered. "And you don't seem to have provided any."

"Any what," queried Susanna, wondering if perhaps Master meant supplies for visiting ladies - protection of sorts, though that hardly seemed necessary considering his Immortal circumstances.

"Decon," he growled, sniffling. "For the bloody allergies." He sneezed and pointed to the cats. "Love 'em dearly, but they do stuff me up horribly." The two winced sympathetically. Too true. The birds and the fish in the bath might stay, but the cats would probably have to go.

"Where *is* the bath?" Susanna jumped. Damn, was he reading minds now? If so, she and 'tilla were in serious trouble.

"That way," she replied pointing off to the side where a large archway stood surrounded by tropical plants. Master rose from the bed and sauntered over to the bath.

"I can't see anything," he mumbled peering more closely into the darkness. He could hear water running and thought of chiding them for the waste until he remembered how the water flowed *naturally* in their own bath, heat generated by geothermals and not one franc had he needed to spend on fossil fuels for anything in their rooms. Clever little gnomes that they were.

He grabbed a candle and stepped within. Shelves and cabinets were built into the walls, much like the bath the two women shared. A large pool stood in the center of the huge cavern and a splendid series of waterfalls emptied into another off to one side. He wandered closer to the first pool. Gods! Something was moving down there! He held the candle closer - koi, dozens of them were gliding languidly about the water lilies floating on the surface. Obviously, they had no intention of him *bathing* in this pool. So, he thought, somewhat facetiously, where *do* I take a bath?

Rapturous looks on both their faces told him where *they* expected him to be doing his bathing. No, he told himself firmly. I'll bloody well take showers before I'll voluntarily be an exhibit at their voyeuristic gatherings. He grinned and they grinned back as he tested the waters in the shower. Damn! That was cold. He'd have to save the shower for *after* any ladies came by for their turn in the rotation. To use it before would put a serious damper on the evening's entertainment and *that* could not be tolerated.
 

The original castle dungeons, with a fully-equipped torture chamber. Soundproofed so no one in the vicinity has to hear prisoners' screams. All the cells are usually empty save for one permanent resident -- Cassie-ho!