"Annie, got a minute?" Joan asked.

"Sure. What's up?"

"Want a break from assembling that background file for a couple of hours?"

"Absolutely. I mean, I love doing research, but…." She followed Joan into her office.

"We just got word that several members of Greece's "Golden Dawn" political party may be in the United States. As you probably know, that's the neo-fascist group believed to be involved in some bombings, attacks on immigrants, and some members have been accused killing of opposing voices, as well as being unexpectedly pro-Nazi given how Greece suffered during the occupation in World War II. There's a distant family connection here in D.C. for one of these men and today is a major Greek Orthodox holiday service celebration. I'd like you to pop over there for a few hours, and just observe and report if you see any of these three. Keep your ears and eyes open. "

"One tiny problem, Joan. I'm pretty clearly not Greek, it's not one of my languages."

Joan threw down a badge with Annie's photo on it. "You could be a Golden Greek from the north. But yes, I thought of that. These are Greek-Americans; while ideally you'd know Greek, outside of the liturgy, English will be the conversational language. You're a fledgling writer for a town-based blog site, going after a bit of local color. And here's your camera."

"Whew. Not exactly like taking shots with my phone, is it?" She hefted the camera with its six-inch lens jutting out.

"Big camera, more believability as a journalist. Anyway, you'd better get over there now. The cross-dive is at 1pm. Here's the info."

"Cross-diving?"

"You'll see when you get there."

Annie drove to the site, a marina on the river. The lot was full; she was just in time to see the end of a long procession heading toward the water with chanting, banners, and many congregants. She introduced herself to the parking attendant as she drove in, a big Greek man who seemed delighted to see her taking an interest in the celebration. A local TV station was also filming and she fit right in. Almost immediately she spotted one of the men on the list, though he wasn't near the pier, instead having an apparently tense conversation in the parking lot. Annie adjusted her location so she could believably be covering part of the action near the pier while getting some shots of the men in the parking lot.

Someone bumped her shoulder. "Signome," she heard – that much Greek she knew, it meant 'Excuse me'. But she didn't expect to also know the voice. She looked up at Eyal Lavin, who was raising his eyebrows at the coincidence. Of course he would be here, or some presence of Mossad; the Israelis had even more reason than most to be cautious about the rise of neo-fascist groups.

"No problem," she responded brightly in her cub-reporter mode.

"There's another angle you may want to get," he said softly, gesturing with his eyes. "The priest is just elevating the cross," he said. But on one of the boats anchored beyond she saw the other two men.

"Thanks! It's a beautiful day, isn't it!" she prattled on. "Surprising, in January!"

"A good day for blessing the fleet, yes. Doesn't seem as benevolent when the day is filled with sleet and snow." Though clear, it was still cold and a couple dozen boys and two or three girls were shivering on the pier. The priest was beginning to intone some preliminary words . They moved onto the pier for a better look. It was crowded. The priest held up the cross again, and with a mighty throw, hurled it out onto the waters. It was made of wood so it floated as the youths jumped into the water and flailed their way out to it. Suddenly loud voices, in Greek, erupted on the pier. The two men she had photographed in the parking lot were now breaking into an out and out fight. Annie was bumped and scarcely retained her balance as her camera went flying out into the water. "Oh no! My camera!" Others were containing the fighters; without hesitation Eyal pulled off his jacket and kicked out his shoes and dove in toward her camera, which was just starting to submerge. He struck out strongly, with beautiful form, his arms plunging into the waters and his long body gliding to the target. He retrieved the camera just in time, to some additional applause from the pier, swimming back one-armed, holding it up, and pulling himself up onto the pier with ease.

"Thanks!" she said, stretching up to give him a kiss on the cheek. "You definitely win the wet-shirt contest today, by the way," she said. He did look magnificent with the wet fabric stretched taut across his pecs, his nipples hard from the cold and pressing against the now-transparent shirt, and his hair wild and curling against his forehead, giving him a bit of a Herculean look, every bit the powerful male animal. Annie felt her heart tremble. She was having an epiphany of her own – he really was the most handsome man she'd ever known, and those sculpted strong arms were always ready to come to her aid. She never felt safer or more content or happier than when she was with him, something that Fate itself seemed determined to bring about, and she loved the way he was looking at her right now, as if he felt exactly the same. What else was she looking for, or waiting for? But he was Mossad…. Her career …. Her thoughts were interrupted as he pressed her camera back into her hands.

"Didn't want you to lose your camera. Pull out the card right now and if you get it into a repair shop right away, it should be salvageable.'

"Company issue, fortunately."

"In that case, I'll invoice for the dive," he whispered. Their eyes went to the ongoing scuffle. This congregation was not being very welcoming of the troublesome newcomers. They watched as the man retreated back to the yacht where the others were, and began to cast off. The crowd's attention returned to the boy who had reached the cross first, who now was receiving a special blessing and a gold cross pendant from the priest.

"I'm going to go change."
"Not too much I hope," Annie said softly. He smiled.

"Not in how I feel about a cute local reporter"

"Thanks for the excellent camera-diving!" she added.

"My pleasure. Happy Epiphany, Annie."

"Happy Epiphany, Eyal."