Look to the Rainbow

by FarAnya

Nikita helps Walter after Belinda's cancellation.

LOOK TO THE RAINBOW

by Anya

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Disclaimer: Walter, Nikita and the rest of the LFN regulars are products of LFN Productions, Warner Brothers, and Fireworks.  No copyright infringement is intended in any way.  As usual, I'd like to thank the writers and creators of LFN for letting me play around with Nikita & Co.  I'll use them gently and put them where I found them when I finish... I promise.

Finian's Rainbow, If This Isn't Love, Look to the Rainbow and Old Devil Moon are also being used without permission, but again, no copyright infringement is intended.

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Look to the Rainbow and Old Devil Moon from the musical Finian's Rainbow have been favorites songs of mine for more than 20 years.  Oddly enough, I only recently realized that Don Francks starred with Fred Astaire and Petula Clark in the movie version.  It's a wonderfully sweet story about wishes coming true... and about love.

This story is respectfully dedicated to Don Francks.

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Chapter 1

Nikita heard the sharp rap on her front door.  As she moved to open it, she cast an eye around her apartment to make sure everything was in order, then glanced in the mirror to check her own appearance; her swift, appraising gaze took in her oversized yellow tunic and white leggings.  Satisfied that all was well, she moved to the door.  She checked her security monitor and grinned as she quickly pulled the door open.  Behind a huge bouquet of yellow and white daisies she could barely see Walter's bandana, much less his face!.

"Walter!  How sweet!" she said.  "For me?"

"No, they're for Birkoff!" Walter shot back, pretending to be annoyed. "Of course they're for you!"

Nikita accepted the flowers from him and, in return, wrapped him in a warm embrace.  She smelled the fresh fragrance of the daisies lingering on his jacket and saw that he, too, had taken special care with his appearance tonight.  He had on a dark gray t-shirt that matched his bandana exactly. His denim jacket and jeans were an even darker gray... almost, but not quite, black.  She invited him into the apartment and closed the door after him.

"Let me put these in water," she said moving into the kitchen.  As she took a vase (which, to Walter, looked for all the world like a large section of PVC pipe), filled it with water, and arranged the flowers, she asked, "Would you like something to drink?  I have wine... beer... water... and some diet soda, I think."

"Wine would be great," Walter said.  "In here?" he asked as he moved toward the refrigerator.

"Yeah... the glasses are on the counter," she said, pointing with a daisy to the wire-wrapped stemware.  "Pour me one, too, please?" she asked.

"For you, Sugar, anything," he said gallantly, placing his hand over his heart and giving her a mock bow.  Then he picked up one of the glasses and inspected it closely. "Did you do this?"

"Yeah," Nikita admitted shyly.  "I got the idea watching one of those home design shows on TV one day.  Do you like it?"

"Like it?  Sugar, it's beautiful!  I'm commissioning you to make me a set immediately!" he declared.

Nikita grinned, pleased that he was so enthusiastic.  "Well, I don't know...."  Secretly, she was delighted that she had judged so accurately... she'd already made a set of six for him.

She finished arranging the flowers and placed them on the table in the entry.  "I've discovered that I can see this spot from just about everywhere in the apartment," she said.  Then she crossed the room to Walter and gave him another huge hug. "Now... how are you doing?" she asked, her husky voice tinted with concern. 

It had been several months since Belinda's suicide mission and Walter was still occasionally having problems.  Nikita knew that Belinda's death had changed his outlook on life forever, but she hoped, by showing him how much other people still relied on and needed him, that eventually Walter would regain his equilibrium.

"I'm dealing with it, Sugar, one day at a time," he said quietly.

Nikita held him close for a moment longer.  In her silent embrace, he felt her compassion and love wrap around him like a hand-made quilt... heavy... but warm and well-used.  When he pulled back, he saw the tears glistening on her cheeks.

"Sugar... don't cry," he said as he reached up and gently wiped the tears away with a calloused hand.  "Belinda wouldn't want you to cry.  Hell, I don't want you to either... 'cause if you start, I'll start."

Nikita gave him a watery chuckle, saying, "God, I hate seeing a grown man cry."

"It's not a pretty sight... well... you know," Walter declared.  He moved into the living room, surveying the changes she'd made in the layout and design since she'd returned to the Section.  "You know... I really do like what you've done in here.  You really took the wall out by yourself?  I wish you had called me... I'd have been glad to come over and help."

"I know, but I... needed to do it myself, you know?  I guess you could call it therapy. You should have seen it though..." she said with a grin.  "Sheet rock everywhere!  All over everything!  I thought I'd covered everything up pretty good, but I didn't realize it was going to be as pervasive as it was.  After almost a year, I'm still finding pieces of it in the weirdest places," she finished with a laugh.  "You'll never guess where I found a bit just this morning."

Not one to resist temptation, Walter immediately asked, "Your underwear drawer?"

"Walter, you're incorrigible!  No... in my medicine cabinet!"

"Hey!  Let's see if we can find anymore.  We could check between the sheets..." Walter said mischievously, rubbing his hands together, for all the world like a child in a candy store.

"Don't even think about going there!" she warned, her eyes twinkling.

"Gee, you take all the fun out of it," he pouted.

Nikita picked up her wineglass and moved into the living room to join him.  As she passed the TV she grabbed the remote.

"So, what're we gonna watch tonight, Sugar?  Please tell me it's not a documentary like last time.  I mean, don't get me wrong, it was interesting and all... but now I know more about the mating and migration habits of chinstrap penguins than I ever really wanted to know," he said.  Nikita's taste in movies was ecclectic to say the least.  They were as likely to watch a foreign film as a new feature film.  He never knew what would be "playing."

"It's not a documentary, so relax," she retorted. "I think you'll like this; it's a musical I remember seeing when I was little.  I've really wanted to see it again for some time now, but the video stores never had it for some reason or another.  So I ordered it... and it came in today," Nikita said with enthusiasm.  When Walter started to cover his face with his hands, she grabbed them and said, with mock fierceness, "Now don't moan and groan and complain... I've heard you singing when you thought no one was around.  You have a great voice!"

Walter gave Nikita a crooked grin.  "I'll have to be more careful about that."  Then his smile grew as he admitted, "Yeah, I like musicals.  In fact, I did a couple years on and off-Broadway once... long, long before your time, Sugar."

"Really?" Nikita asked, amazed.  "What shows?"

"Hmmm, curious aren't you?" Walter said, teasing.  "Nothing major, if that's what you're asking.  I guess they thought I wasn't handsome enough for the romantic leads; I usually played the 'best supporting' type roles... usually didn't get to kiss the girl... got good reviews though."

"Trust you to remember those two things... the girls and the reviews!" Nikita laughed.

"So what's the show?" Walter asked as he headed for the sofa.

Nikita's eyes narrowed as she looked at him thoughtfully. "You know... I don't think I'll tell you.  I think I'll blindfold you and make you guess.  If you guess correctly, within... say... ten seconds... dinner is your choice and my treat!  If you don't get it right, then it's my choice and you buy.  Deal?"

"Ohhhh, Sugar... I hope you got paid today!" Walter said, his smile lighting up his face.  "If there's one thing I know... besides women, weaponry and electronics... it's musicals!  Bring on the blindfold!" he proclaimed as he plopped down in the middle of the sofa, spread his arms across the back, and propped his feet up on the coffee table.

Nikita ran up to her bedroom and rummaged in a drawer.  A few minutes later she came down the stairs waving a brightly colored scarf and a sleeping mask.  She moved to stand in front of Walter and handed him the sleeping mask saying, "I want to be sure you don't cheat!"

Walter placed his hands over his heart and affecting an injured air, declared, "Sugar, I never cheat."

"Much," Nikita added.

Walter grinned again, took the sleeping mask and slipped it over his eyes.  Nikita laughed and leaned down to tie the scarf over the mask.  As she did so, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek.  "Couldn't resist," she said, giggling as she dodged his searching hands.

"I'll get you back... don't worry," he said with a huge smile.

Nikita punched the play button on the remote control and said, "Remember... ten seconds... starting... now!" 

As the music began, Walter sat forward, his head cocked slightly to one side to hear better.  Well within his ten second allotment he grinned, "The song is If This Isn't Love and the show is Finian's Rainbow!" he said triumphantly, pulling off the scarf and mask. 

Nikita's chin dropped as she stared at him with new found respect.  "My god!  Walter, that's incredible!  I can't believe it!  How on earth...?  It's just... drumrolls... and fanfare... until about the seven second mark," she said. Then with a sigh and a smile, conceding defeat she asked, "So, what are we having for dinner?"

"Well now, that depends.  Do you want to go out and eat now or after we watch the movie, or call out and eat while we watch?  I'll let you choose that much," Walter said, magnanimously.

"Let's call out," she said promptly. 

Walter grinned.  "Okay, let's see... we're watching an Irish/American musical, so we don't want pizza... or Chinese... or Italian.  Steak sandwiches maybe?"

Nikita watched fascinated, as Walter considered the options.  Until recently she'd seldom gotten a chance to spend much 'quality' time with him and she relished seeing him enjoy life outside Section.  It never fails, she thought.  I always learn something new about him and now I'm seeing a whole side of him I never knew existed.  I knew he liked music, but this is so totally... unexpected.

"I know!" he said, snapping his fingers.  "There's a great little Irish pub not too far from here.  They serve dinner... and for me, they'll deliver!" Walter exclaimed.  "Where's your phone?"

Stunned into silent admiration, Nikita handed him the phone.  He took it and dialed.  "O'Hara?  This is Walter... yeah, thanks.  Man, I'm doing great!  I just won a bet... and dinner's on her! Yeah!  I need the works... for two.  What's on the menu tonight?  Uh-huh... Uh-huh... Don't think so... Right... Okay, let's go with the Cod with cream and bay... a little bit of Irish stew... and Boxty pancakes... What's on the dessert cart?  Terrific!  Yeah, send it to this address... along with whatever else you think we'll need.  And don't forget the soda bread!"  As he hung up, he turned to Nikita, his face shining.  "Alright!  Now we're cooking!"

"Walter, you're amazing," she said.  "How...?"

He grinned and said, "How what?  'How' the music? or 'How' the restaurant?"

"Both!" she answered astounded.

"Sugar, you picked the one musical I know inside out!" Walter exclaimed.  "It ran for eighteen weeks, seven performances a week, one year when I was working on Broadway!"  He paused for a moment and then continued, "You know, now that I think about it... I actually kissed two girls in that one!  I usually played Og the Leprechaun but I was Woody's understudy, so at least once a week I got to sing Old Devil Moon to just about the prettiest little actress I'd ever seen... blonde hair, blue eyes, stupendous voice... what was her name?  Hmmm."

Nikita smiled at the expression on Walter's face... wistful, relaxed, and happy... a combination she hadn't seen in a while.  She let him reminisce for a moment longer and then she prompted him,  "And the restaurant?"

"O'Hara's a friend from way back," Walter began.  "When I first came into Section I was based at the Dublin substation.  When I was transferred here, I really missed the great food I'd had over there," he explained. "Then one day, I was walking down the street heading for home and I caught a whiff of someone's baking.  I just knew it was soda bread... a big batch of it.  So I followed my nose and ended up at O'Hara's back door.  He didn't have the restaurant then... he was baking bread to sell in the open-air market.  We got to talking and one thing lead to another... and about a year later, he opened a small pub.  It's grown quite a bit since then," he added.  Walter leaned against the door to the balcony.  With a small grin teasing the corners of his mouth, he admitted, "It's one of the best investments I ever made."

"I should have known better than to try and out-smart you," she said ruefully.  "Okay," she asked, "So how long before the food gets here?"

"Oh, twenty minutes or so, give or take a few.  It'll depend on how busy they are," he replied. 

"Well then, you can help me get things ready," Nikita announced.  "We'll make it a truly Irish night!  Hang on a sec..." she said as she made another dash up the stairs.

Walter heard her banging around in her bedroom and caught glimpses of clothes and shoes flying across the room.  Within a very few minutes, she skipped down the steps still wearing the white leggings but the yellow tunic had been replaced by a kelly green off-the-shoulder crop top.  She waved a slightly darker green sweater and scarf. 

"Here, this should fit you," she said handing them to Walter with a huge grin on her face. "You can change down here... if you're not too modest... or you can go upstairs."  Her eyes twinkled as she watched him quickly strip off his jacket and t-shirt.  He pulled the green sweater over his head and then moved to the mirror to swap bandanas.

He caught Nikita's appreciative gaze in the mirror. "I'm not ready for the pasture yet, Sugar," he said, raising one eye-brow suggestively.

"I'm convinced!  100%!!  Lord, that green looks fabulous on you!" she declared as she turned quickly into the kitchen.  "Here, help me set the table."

"What table?  Aren't we going to eat while we watch the movie?" he asked following her, but Nikita was digging through a drawer and her reply was muffled.  "Echo?" Walter said. "You want to say that again?" he asked as she straightened up.

"Sorry... I thought we'd set the coffee table since I don't have a dining table... just to look nice," she repeated handing him a tablecloth.  She turned and rooted through another drawer and came up with a pair of green and white checked placemats and napkins.

Walter gingerly fingered the delicate fabric she'd handed him and whistled, "Linen?  Real Irish linen?  Where on earth did you get this?"

"I got it the second... no the third time I was in Ireland.  I had a lot of time to kill... for once... and I stumbled on a really neat market.  It was one of those open-air kind... you know... more for locals than tourists... and I made friends with some of the older women," she explained.  "I guess they could tell I was lonesome, 'cause they kinda took me under their wing while I was there.  I try to go back there whenever I get a chance."

Walter could understand their befriending Nikita; there was something about her that invited friendship.  Her open manner and charm attracted all types of people... young, old, rich, poor.

She could charm the socks off anyone , he thought.  With one probable exception -- Operations.

She cleared her usual clutter off the coffee table and arranged the tablecloth over it and then put the placemats and napkins on the side next to the sofa.  While Walter put silverware at each place, Nikita went back to the kitchen and took a small Waterford vase from the cabinet.  She moved to the daisies in the entry and pulled a handful from the overflowing vase there.  She swiftly arranged them in the exquisite crystal container and brought them to the table. 

They had just finished the preparations when the doorbell sounded. "Perfect timing," Walter said as Nikita headed for the door.

The petite young woman delivering the food gave Walter a bright smile when she spied him standing behind Nikita.  "Da thought you might want some of the good stuff," she said cheerfully, her shoulder-length, dark brown hair curled loosely around her fair face... her hazel eyes twinkling as she watched Walter's face.

Walter took the bag she extended and pulled out first a bottle of Jameson's Old Irish whisky and then one of Bailey's Irish Cream.  He sighed,  "Ohhhh, Deirdre, tell Kavin he hit the bull's eye!  One for before... and one for after!"

Nikita's eyes were sparkling as she pulled her wallet from her purse.  Walter, catching the movement, turned to her, saying, "The 'liquid' refreshment is on me, Nikita.  That's above and beyond the call."

"No, Walter.  We made a bet, and I don't renege on my bets!" Nikita said, shouldering him out of the way.  "Now make yourself useful and carry this heavenly smelling food into the kitchen before my neighbors invite themselves over!"  Then turning to Deirdre, she said, "Hi, Deirdre... I'm Nikita.  I'm a friend of Walter's."

"Pleased to meet you," Deirdre said with a beautiful Irish lilt in her voice.  "Walter's the sweetest.  I've known him since I was a wee thing... he used to baby-sit me."  She leaned toward Nikita and said in a stage whisper as they carried the last of the bags into the kitchen, making sure that Walter could hear her, "You know, you'd best be careful 'round him... he's got 'wandering' hands.  Not that he's ever tried anything with me, mind -- he knows my da would tear him apart if he even so much as thought about it." 

"I heard that!  Away with you, you little changeling!" Walter declared.  "You're not the child I tirelessly entertained when she had the measles.  That child would show her gratitude and not go around slandering my good name!"  Nikita and Deirdre both laughed.

"Tell your 'da' that if this tastes as wonderful as it smells, I'll be a regular.  Then, you and I can  exchange 'Walter' stories... without being interrupted," Nikita whispered as she accompanied Deirdre to the door and gave her a large tip.

"That would be great!  Thanks!" the younger woman replied.  "Slainte!"

Nikita closed the door after Deirdre and turned to look at Walter speculatively.  "You used to baby-sit her, hmmm?  When... last week?  Did you 'sing' for her?"

"Now, Sugar," Walter began. "Don't get your feathers ruffled.  It was a long time ago and I only did it  a few times... baby-sit I mean."  He shuffled his feet and stuck his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched, and continued.  "You know how it happens... I stopped by the pub and Kavin and Caitlin, Deirdre's mom, needed to go out for an hour or so... and all the waitresses were tied up with the pub... so I got drafted!" he explained.

Nikita's face was thoughtful for a moment and then she said with a smile playing around her lips, "It's a mental picture I'm having a bit of trouble putting your face into... you with a baby in your arms instead of bomb." She shook her head slightly and continued, "Jeez, this has been a night for the record books."

Walter looked confused. "Record books? What are you talking about?"

"Well, you've been here less than an hour and I've found out more about you in that hour than I have in a year!  All of a sudden, I discover you've been an actor, an entrepreneur, and a baby-sitter.  I'm overwhelmed!"  As she spoke she pushed herself from the door and into the kitchen.  "You old devil, you."

Walter grabbed her and gave her a hug and a lightening quick buss on the cheek.  "Gotcha back, you young devil! Let's eat, before all this gets cold."

"Yes, let's," she answered with a grin.

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Chapter 2

Dinner was magnificent and Walter was an incredible raconteur.  Although they had planned to start the movie while they ate, Nikita had been so engrossed in his stories about Broadway and his early days in Section that she'd forgotten all about it.

"Hey, Sugar... we gonna watch the show tonight or not?" Walter asked as he carried his plate into the kitchen where Nikita was putting the leftovers away.

"I'm sorry, yeah," she said.  "I really want to.  Especially now... knowing your connection with it." Then she added with a mischievous grin, "That is, if it's not too late for you."

"Late?!?  Sugar, just how old do you think I am?" Walter began indignantly and then quickly added, "Don't answer that!!"  Then he added exuberantly, "The night is still young!  Let me fix you a Bailey's and then let's get the show on the road... er, screen that is." 

They finished in the kitchen and Walter again sat in the middle of the sofa, fully expecting Nikita to flop down on the floor like she usually did.  This time, however, she sat down next to him -- something that confused him... and not just a little. 

Walter usually watched movies very casually... feet up and arms across the back of the sofa... and he knew Nikita knew this.  He started to move to the end of the sofa to give her more room, but she gently laid her hand on his knee to prevent his retreat.

"No, Walter, I'll move to the floor if you're not comfortable, but I'd really rather sit up here with you."  Nikita said, suddenly serious.  She looked at him as she continued, "I think I need... contact tonight.  This last mission really got to me," she admitted.  "I came very close to going over the edge, I think," she confessed.  "I still don't know why Madeline chose me for it.  Surely there were other operatives who fit the mission profile better than I did."

Walter considered for a moment and then said, thoughtfully, "Yeah, I imagine there were, but you were the only one available at that moment.  We had a very limited window of opportunity to get Janos."

"He made my skin crawl," she said with a shiver.  "I've never seen anyone so prejudiced... it was disgusting!   If I'd had to be with him much longer, I would have cheerfully cancelled him just to rid the world of his supremist attitude."

"And that would have landed you in very hot water, young lady," Walter cautioned, shaking a finger at her.  "Particularly if you'd done it before you got the last bit of intel from his databases.  We needed every scrap you dug up to locate and shut down those guerilla training camps of his."

Nikita acknowledged his warning, then with a small chuckled she admitted, "I know, but it was a close thing."

"Well, you just cuddle up next to old Walter here and let him chase all the evil spirits from your dreams!" Walter said tenderly, drawing her to his side and wrapping his arms around her.

She laid her head on his shoulder and asked wistfully, "Will you sing for me?"

"Sugar, I'll sing for you... anytime you ask," he said gently, dropping a light kiss on top of her head.

"Anytime?" she said, looking up with a smile.  "I may just hold you to that."  And with that, Nikita settled in next to Walter, pressed the play button on the remote control and Finian's Rainbow began.

***

They watched the movie without stopping and with only minimal comments from Walter.  He sang along with Old Devil Moon, If This Isn't Love, and Look to the Rainbow to Nikita's utter delight.  They both roared when Woody asked Sharon "What's a nice girl like you, doing in a place like this?"  It was such a 'Walter'-ish line, Nikita almost fell off the sofa laughing. 

"My god, Walter, he sounds just like you!" Nikita said when the movie was over.

"You shoulda heard me when I was on stage.  I'm a bit rusty now," Walter admitted.  "I was actually working on a recording contract when I came into Section."

"Really?!?  What happened?" Nikita was amazed that he'd confessed that much to her.  As a general rule, Walter never spoke about his life before Section or the event that transported him from the real world into the hell they both now occupied.

Walter paused a moment and then obviously thought better of revealing anymore.  "I have to keep some things secret, Sugar."  When he saw the mock disappointment on her face, he added, "It's the only way to keep you guessing."

Nikita giggled and hugged him.  "Walter, you're wonderful."

"Of course!" he declared as he returned her hug.

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Chapter 3

Walter left Nikita's just after midnight... still wearing her sweater and bandana.  He dropped by O'Hara's for a nightcap and to compliment him on the wonderful meal.

"O'Hara, you old leprechaun!  You outdid yourself tonight!" Walter exclaimed.  "Who was cooking, you or Caitlin?  Everything was delicious."

O'Hara smiled and said in a broad Irish brogue, "Well, now, that's the kind of greeting a man likes to hear from his business associate.  But if ye can't tell who's standing in front of the stove after all these years, I'll not be the one to enlighten ye!"  He was somewhat small at 5'8", but O'Hara was a small man in stature only.  With wavy, light brown hair, hazel eyes, fair complexion and rosy cheeks, he exuded confidence and friendliness. 

"Well, whoever it was, it was magnificent!  Nikita was very impressed," Walter declared.

"Heaven and the saints preserve us... 'Nikita' is it now?" O'Hara said with a sly grin.  "Deirdre said she was lovely."

"Drop the matchmaking, Kavin...  Nikita's barely older than Deirdre... She's a sweetheart and I love her dearly, but she's a firebrand."  Walter glanced around the pub to see who might be listening.  Then, leaning across the bar, he whispered confidentially to O'Hara, "Possibly just a trifle too much for this old man to try and keep satisfied."  He leaned back and continued, "Me, she treats like an uncle... a well beloved uncle... but still, an uncle.  Besides, she's in love with someone else."  Walter gazed into his glass pensively. 

"And sure now, 'tis Belinda ye haven't forgotten yet, either," O'Hara said gently.  "And I'd lay me last coin that Nikita knows that, too."

"Yeah... she knows," Walter said quietly.  "But she's had a rough time, too. The guy she loves... sometimes it seems like he runs hot and cold on her.  But, I gotta give him credit... I know he loves her very much, too. Theirs is a very tortured relationship; I'm not sure they will ever be able to really 'be' together."

"Ah, sure and 'tis afraid of commitment, is he now?" O'Hara queried.  He'd learned long ago not to dig too deeply into Walter's life.  But he also knew how to probe just enough to get Walter to open up.  He accepted whatever his friend cared to tell him and nothing Walter told him ever crossed his lips again.  O'Hara was as safe a confidant as any priest.

"No, Michael's not afraid of commitment," Walter stated.  "I think he actually considers himself absolutely 'committed' to her already.  I'm afraid what really scares him most is how the company we work for might use their relationship against them."

O'Hara digested this nugget for a few minutes and then asked, "Well now... what does the maid  think?  Is she sure of his regard?  Is she worried about the company's position?"

Walter chuckled, "Nikita would just as soon tell the 'company' to take a flying leap off the top of Blarney Castle!" His grin was almost feral as he contemplated the image of Operations and Madeline leaning back to kiss the Blarney stone and tumbling over the edge.  After a moment, he shook his head and continued. "As for knowing how Michael feels about her... I think she's fairly confident about that... now.  She still has days when the way he treats her throws her a little off balance, but all-in-all, they're doing a much better job lately about communicating with each other," he finished. 

"Maybe one of them should leave the company and work somewhere else?" O'Hara asked.

"Leaving the company is not an option," Walter said, with a fierceness O'Hara was not too surprised to hear.  He had heard that tone from Walter frequently since Belinda's death.  He studied his friend closely as Walter continued, "I'm fairly certain Nikita's thought about transferring to a different office, but she knows they'd both be miserable.  They're fine apart but they truly do their best work together," he said with a sigh.

O'Hara topped off Walter's drink and said, "Well now, don't worry too much about the youngsters, friend.  'Tis sure I am the saints are watching over them.  And I'll be adding them to me prayer list when I go to mass of a morning... just to make sure."  Walter dipped his head in acknowledgment of the care his friend extended to him... and those around him. 

After a moment O'Hara continued, "Why don't ye take your sad old carcass back to the kitchen, say goodnight to Caitlin and Deirdre and then sleep upstairs in the spare bedroom tonight?  Ye don't need to be alone tonight with the feelings your feeling."  As he watched Walter toss off the last of his whisky, he added, "And speaking of mass... why don't ye come with me in the morning?  'Tis a good long while since ye last went.  Father Connla remembers ye and asked me just last week when I thought ye might take it into your head to visit again."

"Now that's one of the best invitations I've had in a while.  I think I'd like to light a candle for Belinda," Walter said as he slid off the barstool.  "I'll pay my respects to your better half and give that daughter of yours a scold."  Walter stopped abruptly and turned back to face O'Hara.  "Do you know what she did when she got to Nikita's tonight?"  Walter didn't even give O'Hara a chance to speculate before he continued.  "She had the nerve to slander my good name... in my hearing!  She accused me of have 'wandering' hands!  Cheeky brat!"

"Aye, 'tis a bold, sassy tongue that one has in her head," O'Hara admitted.  "But I don't think one of your 'scolds' will cure her.  Ye are as like to scold with one breath and praise with the next, friend!  Get ye on up.  I've got to close down... but I'll be up presently." He paused.  "By the way, 'tis a nice sweater, that.  I don't ever recall seeing ye wear the Irish green before," O'Hara added with a wink.  "Ye spill something on your own shirt that ye have to be borrowing clothes from the lass?"

"You'd have to know Nikita," Walter started to explain.  He paused and then heaved a hugh sigh. "She's different...  very beautiful... but very different... and I'm too tired to try and explain her tonight."  He clapped O'Hara on the shoulder as he passed through to the kitchen.

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Chapter 4

Nikita and Michael had just returned from a two week mission in Northern Ireland and she couldn't wait to see Walter; she was anxious to give him the Aran sweater she'd gotten for him. 

They paused in the hallway as Operations met them looking very pleased.  "We've just received confirmation," he began.  "The surveillance you two brought in is enough to seal the fate of three mid-level Sinn Fein party members trying to de-rail the Good Friday Peace Accords.  Get debriefed and then take a couple of days down time.   We'll need you fully rested when it's time to take them out of the picture."  Then he added, with an intense stare first at Michael and then at Nikita, "Good work... both of you."

Nikita stared at Operations' retreating figure.  She searched her memory for any occasion Operations had actually complemented her... in Michael's presence.  She glanced at Michael and could tell by the look on his face that he was as amazed as she.  "What brought that on, do you think?" she asked.

Michael glanced at her, gave her a slight shrug and said, "Let's get the debrief over and get out of here.  Are you too tired to have dinner somewhere?"

Nikita's heart and soul sang!  Even though they'd been together a lot during their time in Northern Ireland, they hadn't had much opportunity to really 'be' together... one or the other of them had always been on duty.  She'd been a little afraid that once they returned Michael wouldn't want any company at all for a while.

"Sounds great!" she said, smiling.  "Anywhere in particular?"

"No... have you any ideas?"

"Yeah... we can talk about it once we get through debriefing," Nikita said, her mind racing.  She wanted to check out O'Hara's and this seemed like a perfect opportunity.

"Fine," he said.  "We need to drop the equipment at Walter's first."

"Right.  I think I've got everything where I can get to it easily," she said.  Walter still teased her occasionally for hiding his equipment in places he couldn't -- in all decency -- search.  He'd threatened to search her once, but she'd outfaced him that time.

In companionable silent, Michael and Nikita headed for Walter's station.

Walter was waiting for them when they arrived.  "Hey, Sugar!  Long time no see!" he said with a twinkle in his eye.  Then he saw Michael's raised eyebrow and added, "Uh, you too, Michael.  Everything work okay?"

"Everything was fine," Michael said quietly.  He handed Walter his equipment and then turned to Nikita.  "I'll meet you upstairs."

"Sure, Michael," she said with a smile.  She watched him as he walked toward Comm and then turned to Walter.  "How've you been?"

"Pretty good, actually, Sugar," he said.  "O'Hara talked me into staying with them for awhile; they have a spare room.  He's even talked me into going to mass a couple of times."

Nikita was dragging equipment out of her bag, but she paused when she heard that.  "Mass?"  She wasn't sure why that seemed so inconceivable.  Actually the more she thought about it, it seemed like a pretty good idea.  A godless place like Section needed the counterbalance structured religion could sometimes offer.  "That's wonderful, Walter.  How're Deirdre and her family?"

"Oh, they're doing fine.  They'd love to see you at the pub sometime.  Hey, why not come have dinner with me tonight?"

"Walter, that would be great but..." she started, not wanting to hurt his feelings.

"But what?'  He paused.  "You can't have plans already!  You haven't been back long enough to have even checked your E-mail!" Walter argued.  Then he said with a dejected air, "I know... you don't mind having me over to your apartment, but you'd really rather not be seen in public with such an old geezer, right?"

Nikita protested, "No, Walter, that's not right!  You're my friend... and I'd be honored to have dinner with you anywhere you like!"  She reached across the counter for his hand and squeezed it, giving him a fierce stare until she could see in his eyes that he believed her.  Then she smiled and said, contentment fairly radiating from her face, "But, as a matter of fact, I do have plans for tonight... Michael just asked me to have dinner with him."

Walter's eyebrows almost disappeared beneath his bandana.  "Michael? You're kidding, right?"

"No... really... he just asked... out of the blue!  You could have knocked me down with a feather, too, coming as it did right on top of Operations' surprise complement."

"Wait a minute, Sugar! Now I know you're pulling my leg.  Operations did no such thing!  It's not his style to hand out complements," Walter said, the disbelief apparent in his eyes.

"That's what I thought, too, but he did.  Access the van egress surveillance tape of fifteen minutes ago and you'll see it, too!  He also gave Michael and me both a couple of days down time," she said.  She risked a quick glance up towards Operations' loft and after a moment she asked thoughtfully, "What happened while we were gone?"

"Nothing that I know of.  Until you dropped that little bombshell, I would have said nothing earth-shaking..." Walter said, his body mirroring the doubt on his face.

Nikita resumed unloading her equipment, but stopped before she pulled out the Aran sweater.  Then she turned back to Walter and said, "Since I can't have dinner with you tonight, will you let me buy you dinner tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night it is... but dinner's on me this time, Sugar.  Where are you and Michael going... if you don't mind my asking."

She said, "I thought we could go to O'Hara's.  Would that be okay, do you think?"

"Sugar, Kavin's been aching to get a look at you!  He'd be thrilled to have you there!" Walter exclaimed.  "And I promise to stay out of the way."

"You're a sweetheart, Walter."  Then she leaned across the counter and whispered in his ear, "Pick me up at 7:30 tomorrow night and I'll be all yours... for dinner that is!"  She gave him a saucy glance and almost skipped across Comm, headed for the debriefing room.

***

Birkoff watched her cross the room, then looked at Walter, and saw the slightly bemused look on his older friend's face.  As much as he wanted Walter to accept Belinda's death, and move on, he hoped Walter wasn't transferring his feelings for Belinda to Nikita.  He'd noticed lately that Walter spent most of his free time with Nikita.  He also realized that the more time Walter spent with Nikita, the more he seemed like his old self.  There'll be hell to pay if Walter confuses Nikita's friendship for love, Birkoff thought.

Birkoff left his computers and walked over to Walter's station.  "What's up with Nikita?  She looked like she might float up to debriefing."

"Yeah, Sugar has had a good day.  Not only did she rate -- and receive -- a 'job-well-done' from Operations..." he paused as he let that sink in.  Then he continued, "but... she has a dinner date with Michael tonight and one with me tomorrow!  How lucky can a girl get?" Walter said smugly.  "You'd better catch her before she leaves tonight."

"Catch her?  What for?" Birkoff asked, confused.

Walter rolled his eyes and sighed, saying, "Why, so you can sign her dance card, you dimwit."

Birkoff still looked bewildered, but said, "Oh, yeah... right... I guess..."

"Birkoff, if it has to be explained, then the joke's no good.  Get Gail to expla... no... she probably doesn't know either.  You could try Madeline... if you feel up to being psychoanalyzed," Walter said as he turned to check in Nikita's equipment.

"Not on your life!"  Birkoff asserted.  He decided he'd access the Internet for an explanation.... it was tons safer that way.

------------------

Chapter 5

The atmosphere at O'Hara's was warm and intimate.  Nikita thought she could detected the dark, slightly musty smell of a peat fire... soft Celtic music floated gently above the muted voices of the customers.  Thank goodness, we won't have to shout at each other, she thought.

Deirdre met Nikita and Michael at the hostess station and immediately took them to a table marked Reserved.  Nikita looked a little bewildered since she hadn't had time to call ahead.  Deirdre saw her confusion and said, "Walter called to let us know you were coming."

Nikita turned to Michael and explained in a low voice, "Walter is friends with the owner.  I mentioned to him that I thought you might enjoy coming here, since we didn't really get to eat out much this trip.  I've had the food once -- take out -- and it's wonderful."

"This is fine... and seeing the line waiting to be seated, it was considerate of Walter to call ahead," Michael admitted. 

Like Birkoff, he too had noticed that Nikita and Walter seemed to be spending more and more time together.  He hoped it was just Nikita's friendship Walter was after... and not something else.  In his own mind... and heart... he was certain that Nikita's intentions were 'honorable.'  He was sure she wanted to help Walter adjust to life after Belinda's death.

They were seated and Deirdre rattled off the day's specials... and then proceeded to tell them what they should have instead.  Nikita's eyes danced over the top of her menu. Even Michael  smiled at Deirdre's obvious efforts to provide them an evening to remember.

After Deirdre had taken their order and left the table, Nikita finally released the laughter she'd been holding back.  "She's really very sweet.  Believe it or not, Walter used to baby-sit her!  I think she has a crush on him."

That got a slight reaction from Michael.  "I hope you won't encourage her.  Walter's been through enough this year... without having to deal with that."

"I know," she said sadly.  "Nothing will come of it.   I'm sure Walter wouldn't let it."  She paused and then went on, "He knows how to steer clear and how to protect her feelings at the same time.  He'll let her down in such a way that she'll never know she's been rejected."

Michael was a bit astonished at this reading of Walter's character, but as he thought about what Nikita had said, he realized it was true.  Walter was a 'gentleman' of the old school.  For all his bragging and innuendos, he would never cross the line with any woman.

"You've been spending a lot of time with Walter lately, haven't you?" he asked with a seemingly innocent air.

Nikita thought for a moment before answering, "Yes."  She paused, as if waiting for him to speak, but when he didn't, she continued.  "I realized a couple of months ago that he still hadn't come to grips with Belinda's death.  So one night I asked him over for dinner and a movie.  We never watched the movie... we started talking and eventually we were talking about Belinda... he finally let go enough to cry." 

When she lifted her sky-blue eyes to his silver-green ones, he could see hers were clouded with the memory of those emotions.  "Michael, I think it was the first time he'd ever allowed himself to really grieve... for Belinda... for anyone... including himself.  He tries to hide it behind that macho facade of his, but inside he's really very... vulnerable." 

Michael recognized Nikita's drive to help Walter.  She'd done the same for him so many times... when he'd lost Simone the second time... when he'd had amnesia... when he'd lost Adam and Elena.  There was 'something' like... radar... in Nikita that detected another's pain... and that 'something' did it's dead level best to alleviate that pain and renew one's will to live. 

Deirdre returned with their drinks and with a bright smile said, "Da will be out in a minute.  He wants to meet you."

Michael gave Nikita a curious glance.  As the younger woman left, Nikita looked at Michael and explained, "Walter met O'Hara years ago and apparently this restaurant is a bit of a joint venture for them.  O'Hara has persuaded Walter to stay here with them for a while." 

At that, Michael again raised his eyebrows.  Nikita leaned across the table and said quietly, "I know I've never met him, but from the few things Walter has told me, I think O'Hara is as concerned as we are about Walter.  He seems to be a good friend to Walter."

***

As soon as O'Hara could, he came to Michael and Nikita's table.  His smile grew as he approached; there was an air about the couple that told him Walter was in good hands with these two young people.  He looked at Nikita and said, "Well, now, heaven and the saints be praised.  'Tis Herself in the flesh!  Ye finally made it.  I was beginning to think ye were a pixie sent to bewitch me gullible associate!  However, I'm thinking I'll be needing to have a chat with me friend."

With a quick look at Michael, O'Hara turned back to Nikita and continued, "'Twas -- and I quote -- 'very beautiful' -- end quote -- he called ye, but I can see for meself that the old reprobate lied.  Sure and 'tis the mists rising over the meadows of Erin of a spring morn that ye've trapped to wear in your hair... ye've bewitched the wild Irish roses to abide in your cheeks... and the angels must surely mistake your eyes for their home in the heavens."

Nikita blushed furiously.  She cast a swift glance at Michael to gauge his reaction to O'Hara's flattery and was relieved to see amusement gleaming in his eyes and around his lips.  Daring a saucy grin for O'Hara, Nikita said, "Thank you very much, but don't go overboard or I'll think you're talking to someone sitting behind me."

O'Hara laughed and extended his hand to Michael.  "Me name's Kavin O'Hara," he said.  "Ye must be Michael and this lovely maid is Nikita.  Walter speaks well of the two of ye."

Michael shook O'Hara's hand and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, too."

"I'm glad to finally meet you.  Walter's told me so much about you."  After a slight hesitation, Nikita continued, "I understand you talked Walter into staying here with you for a while.  That's very kind."  She paused again and then went on, "When I saw him earlier today, I thought he looked better than he has for weeks.  Thank you for caring so for him."

"Aye, he's doing better, thank God and Mary and St. Patrick.  He's been such a true friend to me and mine over the years, that I can't not return the favor in his hour of need," O'Hara said with sincerity.

They chatted amiably for a few more minutes until their meal came and O'Hara was called to the bar. 

***

As they finished their meal, Nikita turned to Michael and said, "I had a lovely time tonight."  Her eyes twinkled when she saw the look of confusion in his eyes.  She continued, with a suggestive tone in her voice, "I thought I'd better tell you now... just in case I forget later."

"You're welcome," Michael said quietly.  "I hope we can do this..." he said, gesturing toward the remains of their dinner.  "... more often now, but we shouldn't count on it.  We both know how Section operates.  We know they will... try... to use our feelings against us..."

"I know," Nikita said sadly.  "I wish..."

"Yes, I know... I wish it could be different, too."

As he finished speaking he glanced into the bar and wasn't too surprised to see Walter there, talking animatedly to O'Hara.  Then he added, "Walter's here... in the bar.  I believe he's been there a while."

Nikita looked quickly into the bar.  "Today when I told him we might come here, he promised he'd stay out of the way and wouldn't barge in.  What do you want to do?" she asked.

Michael considered for a moment, and then said, "Let's see if he'll join us... I owe it to him." 

When Nikita looked at him curiously, he explained, "After the Shays mission, he was... very angry with me... believing I'd let you die.  For his own safety, I couldn't tell him what I had done.  He cares too much about you... his actions would have alerted Operations and Madeline that you were -- probably -- alive," he finished and then signaled for Deirdre.

She moved deftly between the tables and looked at Michael expectantly.  "Deirdre, we just saw Walter in the bar.  Would you ask him to join us for coffee and dessert?" Michael asked and then added, with a grin,  "Don't let him say no."

"Sure now, 'tis very kind of you.  Don't worry, I'll get him over here," she said answering Michael's smile with a pert one of her own.

Michael and Nikita watched as Deirdre entered the bar.  Nikita chuckled as she watched the pantomime unfold... Deirdre relaying their request to Walter... Walter waving his hands and shaking his head no... Deirdre putting her hands on her hips and obviously scolding him... Walter again saying no until Deirdre grabbed his arm, pulling him off the barstool. 

Michael turned to Nikita and said with a wry smile, "I'm not sure I want to know what she said to get him over here.  Poor man... to be badgered by a child less than half his age!"  He shook his head.

Walter approached their table somewhat cautiously.  "Deirdre said... you wanted to see me," he started.  "I told her that I had promised to keep out of the way, but she insisted.  So what's up?  Are we being called in?"

Nikita reached out, took his hand and pulled him down onto the chair beside her.  "No, you lamebrain!" she said, teasingly.  "We want you to have dessert and coffee with us!"

"Nikita... be nice," Michael began, the gleam in his eyes and the teasing sound of his voice beliing the severity of the words themselves.  "Don't bully the man.  He's been through one rough time already tonight."  He laughed outright at Nikita's indignant expression.

Walter did a double take.  This wasn't the Michael he was used to... serious, intense.  This Michael was laughing and cracking jokes.  He looked accusingly at Nikita, "Okay, Sugar, what'd you slip into his drink?"  Then he turned to Michael and said earnestly, "Whatever it was, she didn't get it from me!  I swear!"  Michael's grin broadened.

Walter edged his chair slightly closer to Michael's... whether to protect himself or Michael, Nikita wasn't sure.  She almost choked when Michael said, "Yeah, Walter, we have to stick together or she'll try to run everything!"

"Well that's a fine how-do-you-do!" Nikita began, putting on her best 'poor pitiful me' face.  "Here, I am... out numbered... defenseless... what shall I do?"  And struck a pose like a Victorian tragic heroine... her head bowed, the back of her fingers resting on her forehead, her eyes closed.

Walter let out a bark of laughter.  "You!?!  Defenseless?!?!  Not on your life, Sugar!  You're about as defenseless as a lioness!  Besides, who called whom a 'lamebrain'?"

She joined in the laughter.  Then she said sincerely, "Really, Walter, we just wanted you to join us for dessert.  Please?"

Walter turned to Michael and said, "When she looks at me with those sky-blues shining like they are tonight... I can't refuse her anything."

With an intense look at Nikita, Michael replied quietly, "I have the same problem myself."

Nikita saw the silent promise of things to come in his eyes and smiled warmly at Michael... answering his promise with one of her own.  Then with an impish grin, she said caustically, "But I notice you usually manage."  Michael and Walter both laughed heartily.

Amid their laughter, Deirdre came back to the table with coffee.  Nikita said, "Deirdre, help me... these guys are being obnoxious."

Deirdre turned to Michael and Walter, saying, "Well, now, 'tis ashamed ye two should be... picking on Nikita."

Walter quickly interjected, "Don't go getting your Irish up, girl!  I'll speak to your dad about how you treat paying customers and you'll find yourself back in the kitchen washing dishes!"

"Aye, and ye'll be there right beside me drying 'em!" Deirdre retorted.  "Ye lecherous old rogue!" she said flinging her arms around his neck and planting a hearty kiss on his cheek.

Walter reached up to pat her shoulder and said, "Now, who's being picked on?"

***

The trio separated shortly after they finished dessert; Walter returned to his room above the pub, while Michael took Nikita home.  And of the three, although Walter's bed was cold and empty, his was the more restful sleep.

------------------

Chapter 6

After closing, O'Hara came up to talk to his friend for a moment.  "Aye, 'tis true what ye said.  He is besotted with the maid."

"You didn't believe me, did you?  I thought as much.  So maybe now you'll believe the things I tell you, huh?" Walter said with a smile.

"We'll see," O'Hara laughed.  "We'll see.  Ye know, after all these years, I can usually tell when ye try to feed me a fable!"

Changing the tone of the conversation, Walter asked, "What did you think of Nikita?"

"Aye, sure and she's lovelier than ye let me think.  But be careful, me friend.  I'd not get on the wrong side of himself because of her.  Like I said, he's besotted.  He'll not thank ye for interfering with the maid." O'Hara remembered the quiet strength Michael exuded.  "I'd step carefully with him, were I you."

"I know.  But like I told you before, I'm just an uncle to her," Walter said, barely concealing a sigh.

"Aye, that may be all ye are to her, but the question is, what is she to ye?" O'Hara bluntly asked. "And don't be trying to tell me that she's just a friend, because I'm not sure I'll believe ye."

Walter was stunned.  He opened his mouth to deny his friend's accusation, but stopped when he realized that maybe O'Hara was right.  "My god!" he whispered, horrified.  "What have I done?"

"Ye've not 'done' anything, ye idjit.  She's just been trying to remind ye that there is life after death... and it looks like maybe she's succeeding," O'Hara said.  "Don't worry so.  It takes more than just dreaming about something to change the course of the world."

"Kavin, what should I do?  I supposed to take her to dinner tomorrow night?" Walter asked in a panic-stricken voice.

O'Hara threw back his head and laughed.  "Heaven and saints preserve us!  Where're me smelling salts?  I never thought I'd live to see the day me friend, Casanova here, asked the likes of me what to do about a woman!"  Tears streamed down his cheeks.  Walter grinned sheepishly.

After a few minutes O'Hara wiped his eyes on his shirt sleeve and said, practically, "Are ye daft, man?  Ye take herself to dinner and ye behave like ye always have.  She's none so dull-witted and would note the change."  He paused and then said seriously, "I only asked ye the question so ye could see where ye were heading.  Ye've not betrayed anyone."

Walter sat forward in his chair and said quietly, "Maybe not yet, but I was about to.  How could I do that to Belinda?  And with Nikita?"

"Don't fret so.  Everything will be fine.  Listen to your partner, now.  Where're did ye plan on taking her?"

"I don't know yet," Walter began.  "I couldn't decide between Yang Lee's, Bellini's, or here." 

O'Hara thought for a moment, "'Tis a better idea I have... has she ever seen your place?" Walter shook his head and O'Hara continued, "No, then that's where ye take her."

"Now wait just a minute, Kavin!  I don't want her to get the wrong idea," Walter said, his voice again tinged with panic.

"She won't because ye aren't going to let her!  I'll send Caitlin over in the morning to dust round the place and between us, we'll have supper ready by the time she gets there." O'Hara said, warming to the idea.

"She's going to think I'm trying to seduce her."

"What she thinks is going to be up to ye, me friend.  She'll not be expecting a seduction and ye'll not offer her one," O'Hara said rationally.  "Ye've been over to her place several times now, haven't ye?"  Walter nodded.  "Has she tried to seduce ye at all?" O'Hara persisted.  Walter just shook his head.  "For all that ye have a reputation, to herself ye are a safe harbor.  Let her confide in you for a change."  And with that, O'Hara said goodnight.

Walter sat back, reviewing all his friend had said.  It's true, he thought.  Nikita has been trying to make me see that the world does go on... that people still need me... she needs me.  She's been trying to hammer it into this thick head of mine that Belinda wouldn't want me to stop living.  Walter leaned forward again, this time with his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands, and softly cried, "Oh, Belinda, I miss you so much.  But you're not coming back and I have to go on.  Kavin's right... and Nikita's right... you wouldn't want me to give up.  Just give me a sign that you understand and that it's okay."

***

O'Hara stopped by Walter's room the next morning to see if he wanted to go to mass, but Walter wasn't there.  He went downstairs and poked his head through the swinging door into the kitchen and asked, "Deirdre, have ye seen Walter this morn?  I wanted to see if he wanted to go to mass with me."

"He's already gone, Da," she replied sipping her breakfast tea.  "He said he wait for ye in the Lady Chapel."

O'Hara raised his eyebrows but said nothing.  He kissed his daughter's cheek as he went out the back door.

***

He entered the church and made his way towards the Lady Chapel, stopping first at the bank of candles burning at the foot of an exquisitely lovely statue of the Virgin Mary.  He dropped several coins in the box for candles, running silently through his daily prayers.  Today he wanted to pray especially for his old friend... and the two new ones he'd met the night before. 

O'Hara lit two candles... one for Michael and one for Nikita.  Walter was right, theirs was a tortured relationship.  He had managed to watch them most of the night and while he often saw love and joy cross their faces, he also saw incredible sadness and pain... two emotions such young people should never have experienced.

Then O'Hara added a candle for Walter.  He had hated doing that to his friend last night, but he'd had to stop him before Nikita misinterpreted Walter's reactions to her efforts and was scared away.  Walter needed Nikita as much as she needed him.  As he'd told Walter the night before, they were, for each other, safe harbors.

He remained kneeling before the statue until the priest was almost ready to begin, then he moved silently to the Lady Chapel.  He found Walter seated in a pew listening to the organ prelude.  O'Hara sat next to him and in respectful silence they contemplated the myriad ways life formed and ordered its way around them.

***

After the benediction and postlude, O'Hara and Walter quietly left the church.  When they were outdoors in the sunshine, Walter turned to O'Hara and said, "I thought about what you said last night.  I knew you were right... I just needed to know that Belinda understood.  Then this morning when I got up, I swear..." Walter ducked his head.  "I swear I heard her telling me to go to mass this morning."

"Aye, I stopped by your room to see if ye wanted to go, but you'd already left.  Somehow I knew ye would come today."

"Last night," Walter began, "I asked Belinda to give me some kind of sign that everything was going to be okay and that she understood.  I got the sign this morning."  He paused.  "As I was leaving, Deirdre started humming a song..."  His voice dropped almost to a whisper, as he said, "It was the same song that played in the rocking horse jewelry box I... gave Belinda... for her... birthday... just before she died."

O'Hara gently patted Walter's shoulder and said, "Aye, so ye believe now what Nikita's been trying to show ye, do ye?  That there is more life to be lived?"

Walter nodded and then looked his friend in the eye, saying, "And not just Nikita... you've been there for me too.  And for that I'll always be thankful."

"What're friends for, I ask ye, if not for lending a hand... or a shoulder... when ye need one?"

Walter cleared his throat and squared his shoulders.  "Okay," he said, with growing confidence.  "So what are we feeding Nikita tonight?"

O'Hara laughed and said, "Never ye mind!  Caitlin should already be headed over to your flat to get started.  I'm headed to the market and then I'll join her there and between us, we'll have ye thinking ye died and have gone to join the saints tonight!"

The two men parted company, each knowing that their friendship was a thing to be prized.

------------------

Chapter 7

As Nikita turned the corner leading to Walter's apartment, she couldn't help but think about last night.  It had been so relaxed... so wonderful.  Michael had let his usual mask drop for a while and she thought she'd seen glimpses of what he might have been like with Simone... maybe even what he'd been like as a child -- before the tragic loss of his parents tilted his world on its axis. 

Last night Michael had given her her heart's desire... what she had dreamed of almost every night she'd been in Section.  He had given her his trust and -- more significantly -- his love.  She sighed with contentment as she reached Walter's door.  With a bright smile, she shifted the elegantly wrapped package in her arms and knocked on the door.

The door was opened almost immediately by Walter, his face wreathed in smiles.  He was wearing one of Nikita's favorite jackets... the creamy beige  leather one with the painted totem images and fringe.  It was a striking companion to the sober black of his jeans, button-down Oxford shirt and bandana.

"Come in, Sugar, come in," he said with delight.  "Let me take your coat."  He eyed the huge package in her arms with interest as he helped her out of her coat.  "I hope you didn't mind meeting here.  I couldn't get away any earlier."

"No, this is great!  I've always wanted to see your place," she said grinning.  "But you didn't tell me where we are going so I wasn't sure what to wear," she continued.  "I hope this is okay."  She twirled around so he could get the full effect of the deep burgundy silk and velvet dress.  Cut along classic Empire lines, the mid-thigh length dress featured a low decolletage, capped sleeves, and a narrow rose colored ribbon tied just under her breasts.  She'd chosen to wear matching low-heeled, peau-de-soie pumps.  Her shining hair was demurely swept back from her face by another length of the rose ribbon.

Walter let out a long, low wolf whistle.  "Sugar, you look beautiful," he said, his voice filled with admiration.  He drank in the sight of her for a moment more, before exclaiming, "Where're my manners?  Come on in to the living room.  Would you care for a drink?  Wine?"

"Wine would be great!" she said, smiling.  She always enjoyed the open adoration Walter usually showered on her and tonight was no different... she basked in the warm glow of his attention.  Her eyes shone as she handed the package to him, saying, "This is for you... kind of a 'Thank you' for all you've done for me these last three and a half years," her voice raspy with emotion.

"Oh, Sugar, whatever I did for you, it was an honor and a pleasure.  You didn't have to get me anything," he said, taking the box from her, his throat tight with emotion.  "But you're very welcome and thank you."

Before he removed the wrapping, Walter gave it a small shake, then put his ear to it.  "Well, I don't hear any ticking..."

"I used an electronic timer," Nikita retorted.  "Wal-ter!  Open it!"

"Okay, okay," he said grinning at her obvious impatience. With exaggerated care, he put it on the table and began methodically unwrapping it; first untiing the ribbon, then carefully cutting the tape holding the wrapping paper to the box.

Nikita fairly danced with impatience.  "Walter... just tear it!" 

She paused as he gazed thoughtfully into her eyes for a moment, and then she said, "Don't tell me... this is one of those 'which do you prefer... the journey or the destination?' moments, right?"

Walter laughed, "Yeah, I guess I'm just a 'journey' kinda guy.  But if you want me to, I guess I could be a little more 'destination' oriented."  He suited his actions to his words and ripped -- carefully -- the remaining paper from the box.  "That better?"

Nikita nodded with delight. "Much better!"

Walter raised the lid and then lifted the tissue paper to finally reveal the Aran sweater.  "Sugar, this is beautiful," he said with a sigh as he ran his hands across the soft wool.

As he started to lift it out of the box, Nikita warned, "Be careful... there's something else in there... something fragile."

Walter cautiously unfolded the sweater to reveal six tissue-wrapped objects.  "Are these what I think they are?  When did you have time to do them?"  His face glowed as he removed the tissue from the first wire-clad wineglass.  "Oh, Sugar, this is too much!"  He laid the glass in the box and turned to hug Nikita, his eyes shining with emotion.

Nikita smiled gently and returned his embrace.  "Nothing's too much for my family!" she said with quiet fierceness.  "You do know that you are the only family I've ever really known, don't you?  You and Birkoff and Michael.  You're the only ones who have ever really cared about me."

Walter was slightly taken back by the intensity in her voice and her attitude.  But suddenly he realized how much he, too, had come to think of the three younger operatives as his 'family.'  He'd always stood somewhat aloof from the younger members of Section.  That is until Nikita had come along.  Somehow she'd overcome everyone's reserve and torn down walls that he'd never realized had been erected.  She was a breath of fresh air in the stuffy confines of Section.

Still in the cirlce of Walter's arms, Nikita continued, "The six months I was out... even though I tried not to, not a day went by that I didn't think about you all... wondering what you were doing... what was going on in Section.  It was so hard... thinking of you -- all of you -- going on with your lives... without me."  She dropped her head onto Walter's shoulder and was silent for a moment.  Then she started again, her voice no more than a whisper, "There were times when I almost decided to give up the struggle.  But in my heart I knew I had to be strong... stronger than I ever had been before." 

Walter's arms tightened around her back.  They stood that way for several minutes until Nikita raised her head, and said, "So... where are we going for dinner?"

Walter laughed and loosened his hold.  He leaned back to look into her eyes and said, "You're incredible."  The he lifted a hand to stroke her cheek with infinite gentleness.  "Simply incredible."  He sighed and released her.  

"We're not going anywhere for dinner," he said as he tenderly unwrapped each wineglass.  "O'Hara decided he'd cook for us tonight.  Unless you'd rather go somewhere else, of course."

"No!  This is great!  Actually, my feet are killing me; so now I can take my shoes off and run around bare foot!  I should have worn different shoes to walk over here in and then changed into these," Nikita said with a bright smile as she slipped off her shoes.

"Make yourself at home, Sugar.  Would you like your wine now?  I want to christen these glasses.  They are so beautiful... like you," Walter replied.  Then he added, "You didn't say when you made them.  You left for Northern Ireland two days after I saw yours... the night we watched Finian's Rainbow.  You couldn't have done them that quickly."

Nikita grinned and said, "I have to confess... they were already done when you came over that night.  I was just waiting for the right time to give them to you.  Tonight seemed like a perfect opportunity."

"Well, they are wonderful," he said, pouring the wine.  "And the sweater!  I've always wanted another Aran sweater.  I had one when I was a youngster... my aunt knitted it for me.  I must have been about... six... I think."

Nikita's smile grew mischievous, "Hmmm, I didn't know they had knitting needles in the dark ages."  She dodged Walter's hand as he stretched to swat her on the rump.  "Wal-ter..." she squealed.

"You little imp!" he said.  "Just for that, I'm not sure you should get dessert!  Which would be a pity, since Caitlin went to great lengths to get it just right."

Changing the subject, Nikita asked, looking around, "Are they still here?  I didn't get to meet Caitlin last night.  O'Hara is really very sweet, but he's an outrageous flirt!"

Walter laughed again. "That's the Irish for you," he said as he lead her into the dining room.  "He was very pleased to finally meet you and Michael.  They both said to tell you hello and that they hoped you enjoyed the meal, but that they couldn't stay,"  He said as he pulled a chair out from the table for her and held it as she sat. 

"Thanks," she said.  "I'm sorry to have missed them."  She waited until Walter came back to the table with a dish from the oven.  "That smells wonderful... what is it?"

"It's Chicken Gruyère," he said as he served her.  "There's Caitlin's brown bread and a salad.  And Caitlin will be back in about an hour with the dessert.  It's one of those things that can't be assembled until you're ready to serve it," he explained.  "It's called Vol-au-vents filled with apples in Irish Mist," he said with exaggerated care.

"Sounds heavenly.  I'll have to work out an extra hour tomorrow, but I'm sure it will be worth it!" she decided.

Walter laughed as he served her plate and passed it to her.  "Sugar, do you know how many weight bags we've gone through since you came into Section?"

"It's not that bad, Walter... is it?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, between you and Michael, in three and a half years we've had to replace it five times!"  He grinned at her shocked expression.  "I'm not lying... I promise!"

"Now I'll be too self-conscious to even look at the thing..." Nikita started, gazing down at her plate.

Walter, sorry for causing her distress, said, "Nikita, don't worry about it.  You two aren't the only ones who beat the thing up.  I've been known to knock it around occasionally.  Birkoff too, though you wouldn't think it to look at him."

Nikita looked up at that.  "Birkoff?  Uses the weight bag?"

"Yeah, Sugar.  He might 'look' like a wimp, but underneath those baggy clothes he wears, he's got muscles where it counts."

"Birkoff?"  Her voice rose with the question.

Walter chuckled.  "Going to have to re-evaluate your 'little brother,' huh?"  Nikita could only nod.  "Yeah, they do that sometimes," he added, with a wry grin.  "One minute, he's blind to anything not contained on his computer screen.  Then 'POOF!' ten minutes later, suddenly he's grown up without your even being aware of it... and without your permission!"

She nodded again and then said quietly, "You know, when we're in the middle of a mission, I don't think I really 'see' him."  Nikita paused and then added, "I think it's the only way I have to save myself from being totally blown away by the realization of just how intelligent he is."

"Yep," Walter replied.  "It took me a long time to reconcile his age with his I.Q, too."  He paused for a moment and then added, cheerfully, "But in lots of ways, he's still just a great big kid!  Has he shown you his collection of computer games?  He's got hundreds of them... and most of them he designed himself!"

Nikita smiled; Walter was as proud of Birkoff as any parent could be.  She wondered briefly about Birkoff's parents.  With a small catch in her voice, she asked, "Walter, what do you know about Birkoff's family?  How did he get into Section?"

Walter gazed at her.  "What has he told you?" he asked quietly.

"He told me once that he killed his sister... but I'm not sure I believe that.  I mean, it's not in his nature to kill anyone in cold blood, any more than it's in mine," she said softly.

"Sugar, you know there're lots of ways to kill.  And lots of ways to be... or at least feel...  responsible for someone's death," Walter replied.  "I think you should ask Birkoff about this.  I only know some of the story... and I'm not sure he'd appreciate my telling you what little I do know, just now."

Nikita was silent for a few minutes considering Walter's statements.  Yes, she thought, it's very easy to blame yourself for someone's death.  Madeline blames herself for her sister's death and look what it's done to her.  Michael still blames himself for Simone's death... not to mention how he feels about Adam.  It's just so very easy to blame yourself.

Walter watched her as she pondered what he had said.  Then, watching her shake her head slightly as if to shake unruly thoughts into some kind of order, he said on a lighter note, "Come on, now.  Enough of this gloominess.  We're celebrating tonight!"

"We are?  And just what are we celebrating?"  Nikita asked, the furrows in her brow clearing and the light returning to her eyes. 

"Sugar, tonight we are celebrating my return.  And yours."

"I know where I've been... where'd you go?" she asked, curiousity getting the better of her.

"Well, I've been to hell, but I'm back now, thanks to some very special people I am privileged to call my friends," Walter said, as he stood to offer a toast.  Raising his glass to Nikita, he continued, "Nikita, I want to thank you for being there for me... for helping me to move through the agony of my grief.  You were the first to make the effort to bring me back from the brink and I cannot begin to thank you enough."

Nikita's eyes were brimming with unshed tears as she listened to his tribute.  Sensing that he wasn't finished, she focused on his face once more and through sheer force of will refused to allow her tears to fall. 

Walter went on, "Last night... I asked Belinda for a sign that she understood I had to go on living.  I got that sign this morning... as I was leaving Kavin's, Deirdre started humming the song that played in the jewelry box I gave Belinda for her birthday."  He paused and then cleared his throat.  "Sugar, I value our friendship more than pearls... I wouldn't jeopardize it for the world.  And I don't want you to worry about me anymore... I'll be fine.  You've made me realize that there is still a lot of 'journey' left... that the rainbow is there... shining after the storm... just waiting to be followed."

With that, he raised his glass and finished the toast.  "To Nikita... my truest friend." 

Nikita at last allowed the tears gathering in her eyes to spill over her lashes and down her cheeks.  Then, quickly, before Walter could sit down again, she slipped out of her chair and hurried around the table to embrace him.

For the second time that evening, they stood mute... their arms wrapped around each other.  Then as he held her, Walter started singing... quietly... just for her...

On the day she was born,

Said her father, said he,

"I've an elegant legacy waiting for ye.

'Tis a rhyme for your lip, and song for your heart,

To sing it whenever the world falls apart."

"Look, look, look to the rainbow,

Follow it over the hill and stream.

Look, look, look to the rainbow,

Follow the fellow who follows a dream."

'Twas a sumptuous gift to bequeath to a child,

For the lure of that song keeps me feet running wild.

'Tis a rhyme for me lip, and song for me heart,

To sing it whenever the world falls apart.

"Look, look, look to the rainbow,

Follow it over the hill and stream.

Look, look, look to the rainbow,

Follow the fellow who follows a dream."

So I bundled me heart, and I roamed the world free,

To the east with the lark, to the west with the sea;

And I searched all the earth, and I scanned all the skies.

But I found it at last in me own true love's eyes.

"Look, look, look to the rainbow,

Follow it over the hill and stream.

Look, look, look to the rainbow,

Follow the fellow who follows a dream."

Follow the fellow,

Follow the fellow,

Follow the fellow who follows a dream.

THE END