It was a frigid evening in St Louis and Caius was sitting in his luxuriously furnished apartment, sipping a cognac.  A fire flickered low in the cut granite fireplace, throwing long shadows across the room, and warmth in waves that took the chill from the air.  An unfinished letter sat on the curved cherrywood desk, a stack of large bills waiting to be counted to the right of the inkwell.  A fancy wood and brass telephone sat off of the hook, it's incessant ringing quieted for the time being. 

The near silence was interrupted by several quick raps at the front door.  Not expecting any visitors, Caius instinctively grabbed his Colt M19 from the side table and leapt to his feet, quietly padding over to the door, prepared to shoot if he needed to. After several deep breaths he went to call out and instead heard;

"Let me in you twit! It's fucking freezing out here!"  

Caius would recognize the voice anywhere and reached to unlock the door.  Standing on the front step was the man he considered as close as a brother, the two of them having only been born hours apart from one another.  Premeir, the older of the two walked in and shut the door behind him. 

"Can you believe this weather?"  Premeir shook his head and hung his coat up, then walked over to the liquor cabinet to make himself a drink. "Colder than a witch's tit." He uncorked a cut crystal bottle and poured a glass full of whiskey, smiling to himself as Caius walked over to the table by the door.  Premeir had set down a box when he came in, purposefully not hinting at what lay inside. 

Caius carefully lifted the lid and felt a sea of emotions wash over him.  Inside the tissue paper lined box was an ivory handled Colt Positive.  He looked up and over at Premeir and saw his life long friend smiling at him. 

"Go on, it's yours." 

Caius let his fingers drift over the barrel and then to the handle, seeing the shine from constant use.  Was this what he thought it was?  Premeir motioned for Caius to pick up the gun and as his hand closed over the handle he felt another surge of emotion, this time, pride.  He inspected the gun carefully, noting the fact that the weapon was a masterpiece.  It showed a lot of wear from being used often, but had been kept in pristine working order. 

Premeir spoke after a few minutes.

"My father gave this gun to your father when he came to these shores.   It was used in good times and in wars and over its lifetime in your father's hands, took over two hundred and fifty lives.  When he died, it was still in his hand.  I hope this gun serves you as well, if not better than it did your father." 

Caius reached to swipe a tear from his face and aimed the gun at the wall, feeling the power of it's legacy flow through him.  This revolver had made his father one of the most powerful crew leaders of his time and Caius vowed that he would not only walk in his father's footsteps, but exceed his achievements.  

Premeir took one last swig from his glass and came over to Caius, giving him a hearty pat on the back. 

"Let's go try this out."  He took his coat and handed Caius his and the two best friends walked out into the cold, headed to the gun range, intent on beginning a new chapter in the life of Gaius' gun. 

Wraith nodded in approval. A gun was a true memento and a useful one. He fingered his own which had been left him by his father as well.

"That gun will know action again," he muttered and went along his way.