Green Magic

Author: NancyY

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: SMK and its fine characters are copyrighted creations. I am borrowing them only for recreational reasons and will make no money from this (or any other) story. I retain the rights to any character I may create.

Summary: Amanda is introduced to a top secret Agency tradition--Saint Paddy's Day at a special Irish Pub.

Timeframe: 1985. Stemwinder is six months away. During that episode, Lee told Amanda that he had loved her for a long time, but couldn't say the words.

I usually tend to write 'action'. This story became a laboratory for me, where I could work on dialogue and character interaction. I hope it all works.

It was also the first story to go through the Beta process. Thanks to Miriam, Chris, and Rita - and all the gang.

~ ~ ~ ~

Lee leaned forward in his chair, matching Billy's broad grin with one of his own.

"That's great! I didn't think Gillie would be up to it this year."

From behind his desk, Billy nodded. "Well, he called me today to tell me it was on, and asked me to pass the word to the usual gang."

Lee shifted in his seat and watched through the open office door as Amanda walked slowly through the Bullpen to the water cooler. The week had been long and tiring, and a little R&R was definitely in order. An evening at Gillie's would be just the thing, if he could coax her out the door.

Billy followed his gaze and grinned. "Make sure you invite Amanda this year. We both know she's earned it."

~ ~ ~ ~

An hour later, Lee slipped into the Q Bureau and stood just inside the door watching Amanda work at his desk. He tried to avoid the cramped little office when he could, but she seemed to thrive in the relative peace and quite.

He leaned back against the doorframe, crossed his arms, and studied her as she thumbed through the files stacked in neat piles on the desktop. Selecting one, she spread the contents across the desk and then eased a clean sheet of paper into the battered typewriter.

Amanda was island of calm and order in the midst of the usual chaos.

Well, maybe calm wasn't the right word . . .

After a moment, he straightened up and cleared his throat.

She waited exactly three seconds before turning in her chair and looking up with one eyebrow raised. "When will you stop doing that? Sneaking up--you should be ashamed."

"You didn't jump." He rested his hip on the edge of the desk. "I have something important to ask you."

She folded her hands in front of the typewriter. "Yeah?"

"Do you have a green dress?"

"What? What kind of question is that?"

Grinning, he leaned toward her and repeated, "Do you have a green dress?"

"Why?"

"Are you free for a Saint Patrick's Day party this Wednesday?"

She didn't respond as she stared at the dog-eared file folders in front of her. Lee followed her gaze and slid the nearest pile out of her reach.

"Amanda?" He leaned closer. "Don't you want to go with me?"

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she shook her head. "What sort of operation is it this time? I've got so much work to do, and you know Wednesday is a school night. I'm just not up to another embassy thing . . . "

"It's not that kind of party, I promise." He brushed the back of her hand with his fingertips to get her attention. "This isn't work, it's more of an Agency tradition. Let's try this again."

"Amanda, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to a special Saint Patrick's Day party at McGilligan's Irish Pub this Wednesday evening? No work--I promise--only fun."

He could see she was wavering. "Please, for me."

Dropping her head into her hands, she moaned theatrically and shook her head.

"Pleeeese?" He flashed his best little boy smile, and watched her resolve collapse.

"Oh, all right. I'll go with you. Green, huh?"

"Yep. I'll pick you up at 7:00. Don't talk to anyone else about this, it's top secret."

As he strode down the corridor, he felt ten pounds lighter and six inches taller.

~ ~ ~ ~

Lee stood on Amanda's front porch, feeling like a schoolboy picking up his date for the prom. He rang the doorbell and waited, shifting from one foot to the other. The night air was crisp and cool, and the soft glow from the porch light was welcoming, so why was he so nervous? He'd been perfectly fine all day, happy, in fact. Maybe it was the front door. Yeah, that was it; he usually waited for her in the back yard. The front door made it feel more like a date.

Was it a date? Had he asked her out on a date?

The door opened, and framed in the soft light stood a vision in a flowing green dress. He took in the way it hugged her body in all the right places and fell in graceful folds around her . . .

Coming back to himself, he closed his jaw with an audible snap. He cleared his throat as he struggled for words, stammering the first thing that came to mind. "Umm, hi."

Smooth line, Stetson.

"Hi, yourself," she replied as she turned toward the hall closet. "I just need to get my coat."

Lee brought himself down to earth, summoning the old Stetson charm, and by the time she turned around with her coat in her arms, he was prepared.

"You look fantastic." He offered her his arm. She hesitated, and he watched with amusement as her eyes traveled from his face to the tips of his shoes, and back up again.

"You, too." When she slipped her hand beneath his arm, he enjoyed her faint blush, pleased that he was having an affect on her as well.

It was definitely a date.

~ ~ ~ ~

Amanda tried to relax into the motion of the Corvette as it hugged the curves of the winding mountain road. She watched her partner from under lowered eyelids, waiting for him to answer. Finally, unable to stand the silence she repeated, "How much longer? We've been driving for over an hour."

His eyes remained fixed on the road ahead and he said nothing, ignoring her glare.

"Lee-e-ee?"

"It's a surprise." He ducked to the left as she aimed a punch at his shoulder.

"Do you have any idea how annoying that is?"

"Sure do." His smug expression faltered when her fist connected. "Hey, no fair--I'm driving."

Sighing, she settled deeper into her seat, tilted her head back against the headrest, and closed her eyes. Could any other man on the face of the earth be this annoying?

~ ~ ~ ~

After another mile Lee turned off the highway and she saw they were approaching a large clearing dominated by a metal building that looked more like a storage shed then an authentic Irish Pub. No windows were visible, and corrugated metal siding glowed dully in the glare of the Corvette's headlights. Lee pulled up to the front and parked, then walked around to her side of the car.

"Here we are." She took his hand as she slid from the car, and they strolled arm-in-arm up the gravel walkway to the front of the building. She tilted her head to see the engraved silver plaque bolted to the wall above the small doorway, as Lee reached for the handle.

May your glass be ever full.

May the roof over your head always be strong.

And may you be in heaven

half an hour before the devil knows you're dead.

She was still reading the words as he opened the door and nudged her inside. After taking one step, she stopped and stared. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting after seeing the exterior, but this wasn't it.

In the warm light of the fire blazing merrily in the stone fireplace, McGilligan's Irish Pub took on a magical air. The delicate sounds of an Irish harp caressed her ears, and the burnished glow of handcrafted woodwork and antique brass fixtures created the warm feeling of Ireland.

"You're letting in the cold, Scarecrow. Come in," a rich tenor boomed from behind the massive oak bar.

Lee closed the door and guided Amanda over to the wide expanse of countertop. "Amanda, this is Padraig MacGilligan. He owns the place."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. MacGilligan." She returned his genuine smile with one of her own.

"That would be Gillie to you, little lass."

She basked under the man's warm gaze for a moment, and then his blue eyes narrowed and seemed to look directly into her soul. She felt him appraising her, but before she could feel truly uncomfortable he reached across the counter and clasped her hand. "And just who is this lovely girl, Scarecrow, lad?"

"Gillie, this is my partner Amanda."

"Ah." He took another long look at her. "I've heard so much about you, my dear. I understand you have begun to civilize this rogue." He stared pointedly at Lee, who looked worried.

"Who's been talking?"

Gillie nodded toward the other end of the bar, where Francine and Billy Melrose sat chatting with Nathan Cooper and Mrs. Marston. Nathan's face lit up when he noticed Amanda and he waved. Lee casually leaned forward, blocking his view.

She was still trying to reconcile the use of Lee's codename with her understanding of Agency security. When Gillie turned to pour them each a drink, she leaned close and whispered, "Scarecrow?"

He bent down, cupped her ear with one hand, and replied in a stage whisper, "Didn't I mention everyone here is Agency?"

~ ~ ~ ~

Amanda warmed her hands by the fire as Lee collected a cold green beer for them both, then followed as he led the way to a cozy corner nook. He waited as she slid into the booth, and then eased in beside her, his shoulder touching hers.

"Everyone here is either with the Agency now, or retired," he repeated as he slid her drink across the table.

"Even Gillie?"

Lee nodded. "Padraig MacGilligan was recruited by Harry Thornton himself. Gillie brought Nathan into the fold and was his mentor before he retired. He's a legend."

He touched her chin with his fingertips and tilted her face toward his. In the soft firelight, he was too handsome by half, and Amanda took a deep breath to calm the familiar thrill. He brought his lips closer to her ear. "Its just family here."

"Speaking of family," Nathan said loudly as he settled himself into the booth opposite them, "Amanda, I haven't seen you for ages. You look wonderful--green is definitely your color."

Nathan's grin was infectious, and she couldn't help but respond. "It's good to see you too, Nathan. You're right, it has been a long time, hasn't it, Lee?"

He took a long, deliberate drink from his glass before answering. "Yeah, a long time."

"That's Coop to you. Amanda--you know all my friends call me Coop." He continued to ignore Lee as he reached across the table for her hand. As he captured it, she felt her partner stiffen and lean away.

"Lee?" She tried to re-connect with him, but he turned his face away. "What is it? What's wrong?"

The lively opening notes of an Irish jig rose from behind the bar and filled the room, and her attention was pulled back to Nathan as he squeezed her hand. "May I have this dance?" he asked, the words faintly slurred.

She looked over to her partner, trying to make eye contact. She didn't want to be rude, but. . .

"Nathan, really, I . . . "

Lee pulled himself out of the booth and gestured to the dance floor. "Go ahead, have fun." His voice held no emotion.

As Nathan pulled her from the booth and swept her onto the dance floor, she looked for Lee over his shoulder, but he had already turned and walked away.

~ ~ ~ ~

Lee had made the rounds and reminisced with several old friends before finally making his way back to the counter where Gillie was washing and drying glasses. His gaze drifted toward Amanda as she sat near Francine and Billy at the other end of the bar, listening to three retirees warble an off-key version of Danny Boy.

Nathan was nowhere in sight.

Leaning against the counter-top, he watched Amanda throw back her head and laugh at one of Francine's off-color leprechaun jokes--a rich, heartwarming sound, even at this distance. She was beautiful, so special, and he wondered for the hundredth time if he would have enough courage to tell her how he felt. The firelight framed her features in gold and danced through her hair, and in that gorgeous green dress, she looked like a mystical creature out of Irish folklore.

Had she enjoyed her dance? To be honest, she hadn't looked happy. Why had he just let her go? What was wrong with him tonight?

He was startled out of his reverie by Gillie's firm hand on his forearm. "Like watching her, do you, lad?" he asked, tightening his grip when Lee started to pull away. "There's no denying she's a pretty one. Ah, if I were thirty years younger . . . "

Lee's shoulders sagged as he rested his elbows on the polished countertop. "If you were thirty years younger, none of us would stand a chance." He commented. "I'm not sure I do now."

"You are after changing the subject, aren't you?" The Irishman studied him. "You like watching her, " he repeated.

"That obvious?"

"Only to me, Scarecrow, only to me," Gillie assured him. "Lad, will you be telling her how you feel?"

Lee studied his reflection in the polished wood of the countertop and didn't reply.

"Ah, I see," Gillie put down the glass he had been drying and turned his full attention toward Lee. "Why is it so hard, then? Is this one different from the others, then? Is she special to you?"

Lee snorted. "I've brought other beautiful women here in the past."

"You can put silk on a goat, but it's still a goat."

"What's that supposed to mean?" His clenched his fists and pressed down on the counter. Why was Gillie pressing him? It was no one's business but his . . .

He almost fell off his stool as Gillie slapped the palms of both hands down on the counter-top in front of him. "I was married for thirty-four years and never regretted a minute of it. I would give anything I own to have my own dear Elsie back with me, and I thank the creator above for every day we shared. It's not often that people in our business find that. If you are foolish enough to waste a chance at it, then you're a grand idiot." He picked up a clean cloth and began to polish the countertop in sharp circles.

Unwilling to let go of the gloom that clung to him like a soggy wool cloak, Lee mumbled, "I'm so sorry. We all loved Elsie, but Amanda . . . " He rubbed his forehead for a moment, then dragged his fingers through his hair. "We're too different. It would never work."

"Two people never lit a fire without disagreeing, Lee. Everyone on this earth is different. It's surely up to you how you handle that." He punctuated each sentence with several vigorous swipes of his cloth.

Lee felt the cold knot of anger in his chest slowly loosen, and despite himself, he started to grin. "You have an Irish proverb for every occasion, don't you?"

"Its part of my charm." Gillie agreed. "And seeing as how you are so receptive to them tonight, I'll leave you with just one more. An áit a bhuil do chroí is ann a thabharfas do chosa thú."

He started to walk away leaving Lee more confused than ever. "What does that mean?"

Gillie looked back over his shoulder. "Your feet will bring you to where your heart is."

~ ~ ~ ~

Lee walked up behind Amanda and placed his hand on the small of her back, feeling her muscles tense. "Made you jump."

She leaned away from him and began to pull at the stitching on her sleeve.

"What's wrong?" he asked, afraid of her answer.

"You came back, huh?" she asked without looking at him. "You know, tonight was supposed to be fun. That's what you told me. Wasn't I supposed to talk to anybody? What did I do this time?"

"You didn't do anything, it was me. I was rude, a real jerk. I was . . . " He paused as she finished pulling out a long green thread.

Amanda finished for him. "Jealous?"

"Yeah, maybe that too."

She rolled the thread between her fingers for several long moments, and then allowed the tiny ball to drop to the floor.

"I'll forgive you, this time." She finally glanced up at him and then looked away. "Don't do it again."

Nodding, he slipped his arm around her waist and leaned closer. "What happened to Nathan?"

"Um, he and I had a little talk."

Lee captured her hand as she began to pull out another thread. "What did you talk about?" he asked.

"You. We talked about you, or I did, anyway." She finally turned to face him. "I like Nathan, you know . . . or . . . well . . . at least when he's not drunk. But he didn't invite me tonight."

She smiled. "I came here with you."

When she forgave him, it was always without reservation, and it always astounded him. A weight lifted from his chest, and he decided say it--right then--before he lost his nerve. Trying to ignore the chatter in the room, he leaned toward her, his lips brushing her ear. "Amanda, I . . . "

"Shhh--be quiet. Here he comes," she said as she placed her finger firmly on his lips. "Gillie promised to sing an Irish folk song, and I want to hear it."

He almost choked on the unfinished words, and couldn't decide if he should be frustrated or relieved at the interruption.

Or both.

He glanced up to see Francine looking his way with a knowing grin and one eyebrow raised. Smoothing his expression to nonchalance, he casually released Amanda's hand and leaned against the bar beside her. Maybe a public place wasn't the right setting.

"I promised Amanda I would sing a traditional Irish folk song, poor voice that I have. This one is called Haste to the Wedding." Gillie caught Lee's eye and winked.

Lee mouthed the words, "Get you later . . ."

Gillie's rich tenor pushed through the noise and chatter. Lee felt Amanda relax against him and sigh as the Irishman began to weave his spell.

	Come haste to the wedding ye friends and ye neighbors,
	The lovers their bliss can no longer delay.
	Forget all your sorrows your cares and your labors,
	And let every heart beat with rapture today... 

Lee looked down at her, smiling at her obvious enchantment; she was completely caught up in the music. He sat next to her in perfect contentment, completely caught up in her.

	Let Envy, Let Pride, Let Hate & Ambition,
	Still Crowd to, & beat at the breast of the Great,
	To Such Wretched Passions we Give no admission,
	But Leave them alone to the wise ones of State...

As Gillie brought the song to a close, Lee felt a pang of loss, knowing the moment would have to end.

	With Reason we taste of Each Heart Stirring pleasure,
	With Reason we Drink of the full flowing Bowl,
	Are Jocund & Gay, But 'tis all within measure,
	For fatal excess will enslave the free Soul,
	Then Come at our bidding to this Happy wedding,
	No Care Shall obtrude here, our Bliss to annoy...

Gillie answered the calls for an encore with a shake of his head, and instead placed another record on the old player behind the bar. The soft, romantic strains of a simple Irish folk song pulled several couples to the dance floor.

Lee swiveled Amanda's barstool around until she faced him, and held out his hand.

"Dance with me?"

She placed her hand in his and was off the barstool and onto her feet in one fluid motion. The smooth melody of the ancient folk song swept them to the dance floor, and Lee drew her into his arms. As they swayed together in a gentle rhythm, his hand slid down her back to her waist, and eased her even closer.

He brushed his cheek against her hair, and feeling his touch, she looked up at him with a sweet, happy expression that almost took his breath away. They moved together, and the room narrowed until he could see nothing but the woman in his arms, feel only the warmth of her body against his, and the touch of her hand. The scent of flowers and springtime overwhelmed his senses as he danced with her, and he wished that this one perfect moment would never end.

The scratch of the needle as it reached the end of the record broke the moment, and Lee realized suddenly that he and Amanda were the only couple dancing in the silence. Keeping his arm around her waist, he guided her back toward the bar as Gillie settled another album on the turntable.

"May I cut in?" He turned in surprise to find Billy extending his hand to Amanda. When she accepted it and they moved onto the dance floor, Lee walked slowly to the bar, trying to pull his emotions back under control. He had been almost relieved at the interruption, although his arms felt strangely empty.

How could anyone make him feel this way?

After sliding onto a barstool and leaning his elbows on the bar, he was completely lost in the tangled maze of his own thoughts, and didn't hear the music fade. He jerked upright when a hand trailed up his back.

"Made you jump." Amanda laughed as she settled onto the stool next to his.

A splash of bright green drew Lee's attention away from Amanda as Gillie dropped a brass pot on the countertop in front of them. Gillie made a great show of searching through the spindly little plant, turning the stems this way and that, before selecting a leaf with great care. He broke it off and presented it to Amanda with a flourish. "This is a shamrock, my dear. From ancient times to today, its three-part leaves have symbolized many things, not the least of which is faith, hope, and love."

He searched through the leaves again, mumbling and shaking his head. "No, that won't do. Hmmm . . ." He carefully selected another leaf and pulled it free. "This one is a four-leaf Shamrock. It is a rare and precious thing and should be treasured, since such prizes often only come once in a lifetime." He reached across the bar, tucked the shamrock into the top buttonhole of Lee's shirt and patted it into place. "They also represent good luck."

He picked up the little plant and turned away, tossing a final word over his shoulder. "You'll be needing it."

Lee felt a hand on his arm and grinned at Amanda's expression. Wide-eyed, she whispered, "He just happened to have one handy?"

Shaking his head, he whispered back, "it's probably better not to think about it." Lee took her hand in his and gently lifted the shamrock from her palm. Leaning toward her, he tucked the stem behind one of the delicate green combs in her hair. "His code name was Magician."

Amanda reached for his wrist and pulled it toward her, turning his arm slightly so she could see his watch. "I hate to say it, but I think I'd better head for home soon. It's a long drive home and Mother and the boys might worry."

Nodding reluctantly, Lee held her hand as she slid from her stool.

Gillie was waiting at the door for them with Lee's jacket in one hand and Amanda's coat in the other. "Here you go, lad." He turned to Amanda and draped the coat over her arm, then captured her hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. "My dear, it was my great pleasure meeting you. May I offer you an Irish blessing?" He waited as she nodded solemnly.

"Dance as though no one is watching you,

Love as though you have never loved before,

Sing as though no one can hear you,

and Live as though heaven is on earth."

"Don't you have one for me?" Lee asked.

"Stay away from goats."

Lee felt a flush crawl up his cheeks as Amanda watched him curiously. "What goats?"

~ ~ ~ ~

She had fallen asleep during the long ride home, and Lee glanced over frequently, trying to watch both Amanda and the road. She looked so beautiful, with her eyelashes curling against her cheek, and a wilting shamrock tucked in her hair.

This night had been just what she needed--what they both needed.

He pulled smoothly to the curb in front of her house and gently rubbed her shoulder to wake her. She blinked sleepily at him, and then stifled a yawn.

They strolled up the walkway to the dark porch, arm in arm, and Lee wished the night would never end. As they reached Amanda's front door, she stopped and touched the shamrock in his collar with her fingertips, and gazed into his eyes with a relaxed, contented look. "I don't know how to thank you for tonight. It was magical."

"For me, too," he murmured, already starting to turn away as she reached for the door. He stopped suddenly and pulled her back to him, into a hug. Enjoying the way her body melted into his, he kissed her lightly on the forehead.

"Amanda, I-- "

The porch light flicked on abruptly, and a bright, harsh, reality shattered the moment.

Lee sighed and rested his chin against her hair. "It was my pleasure," he told her, and stepped back, letting her go.

Lee watched her as she stepped through the door, and then watched the closed door for a minute more, holding on tight to the last fading threads of the green magic.

The End