Holiday Eve. The house was aglow with lights and candles that adorned most all objects within view. The tree was decorated with ornaments and trinkets collected by family and friends over the years. Delicate hand blown glass balls from Europe were interspersed amongst construction paper and crayon creations fresh from the hands of young children. Strings of popcorn and cranberries looped around and about the thick green branches of the seven foot tall Scotch Pine. And underneath, the floor was thick with brightly wrapped packages of all shapes and sizes.

On the mantle sat a menorah set with candles and ready to be lit. Dradles and chocolate Chanukah gelt lay strewn about the floor, clear indications of a game abruptly interrupted when all had been called to dinner. A neatly laid fire softly popped and sizzled in the hearth opposite the tree, adding to the feelings of security and contentment that permeated the room. Outside, a fresh cover of snow was erasing all traces of the day’s activities and preparing the scene for a magical tomorrow. Joyful noises poured out from the dinning room, and filled the entire house with life and gaiety.

“Oh please Auntie M, oh please won’t you tell us the story again. Oh you promised...” wailed a chorus of young voices in mock distress as the bodies tumbled out into the living room. They knew, as did Auntie M, that she would tell them the holiday story again, just as she did every year. It had quite become a family tradition, as strongly associated with the season as honey smoked ham, potato latches, and this scene of melodramatic begging.

“Oh, all right. I’ll tell you one last time,” Auntie M lamented with false bravado as the children’s faces broke into enormous grins. “But you children realize that you’re getting far to old for this type of thing don’t you?” she teased. She too could no longer suppress her happiness at having been drawn into a part that she loved so well.

“Oh... you say that every year,” observed one small cynic as she stood apart from the others with her arms crossed and a pout firmly planted on her cherry red lips.

“Ah... I see we have one candidate who is already too old,” Auntie M observed, a mock look of seriousness trying to overlie the mirth hidden just below.

“Well after all I a-am almost six now,” declared the little girl indignantly, as she tossed her wavy blond hair.

“So how do you suggest that we handle this situation then?” inquired the older woman, her warm brown eyes sparkling with delight.

The dissenting youngster thought a moment, scrunching her eyes tightly while unconsciously biting her lower lip. Then suddenly her blue eyes lit up and she broke into a dazzling smile. She was quite proud of coming up with an answer.

“Lemme help you tell the story to the little kids,” she offered. “After all, I am almost six...”

“Very true,” conceded Auntie M. “All right. Why don’t you just sit right next to me here in the chair and we can both tell the holiday story this year.”

And with that children and adults alike found seats all around as they made themselves comfortable and ready to listen.

“Not so very, very long ago...”

************

The mission had been a long and arduous one to say the least. Michael and Nikita both were battered and exhausted, but they’d been successful. At least they now had the pleasure of dreaming about reaching their own beds...

“Bedssss Auntie M?” giggled her young assistant placing too much emphasis on the ‘s’ sound.

“Yes bedSSSSS,” replied her adult companion with a very stern look in her eyes. “Now let me continue...”

... and getting some rest. The holidays were not far off, but neither was even considering that now.

Nothing had gone smoothly this mission, and in keeping with the tortuous routes that all else had taken, the weather had turned bad just as the ‘end game’ had been achieved, making their departure all that much harder. It was pouring as they tried to make their way along back roads, through a series of small villages in the West Bank, to the pick-up point. Despite their vehicle’s 4-wheel drive ability, any progress they made was slow and difficult as the dirt roads they traveled were quickly transformed into rivers of mud. Michael drove while Nikita tried to navigate, but between the onset of darkness and the unrelenting rain, both tasks were severely compromised. Nikita studied the map, struggling to make any connection between landmarks on the paper and what she saw outside.

“Michael... I think we’re lost,” Nikita confessed as she flopped her hands in total defeat on top the map. “In this rain there is absolutely no way to determine where we are or where we need to go.”

Michael brought the Land Rover to a stop. Placing it in neutral, he turned very tired green eyes towards his colleague.

“Nikita, let me take a look,” he ordered, reaching over to pick up the map.

Nikita just sighed deeply and leaned her head back against the headrest, closing her eyes. Michael too wanted to rest, but it just wasn’t to be quite yet. Really he wanted nothing more than to take Nikita in his arms and hold her close while he abandoned his senses to the feel and scent that was Nikita. But instead, he settled for trying to make heads or tails out of the map and their current location.

After a moment, Michael too had to admit that they were quite thoroughly lost. However, remaining where they were wasn’t an option. They needed to find some other type of shelter to wait out this storm.

Straining his eyes, Michael could just make out a the lights of a tiny village off in the distance. Handing the map back to Nikita, he placed the engine in gear and started off.

************

”Oh, Auntie M... is this the scary part coming up next? Can I tell it, oh can I tell it? I know how to make it sound real scary.... puleeeze????”

Auntie M couldn’t resist the little cynic’s dazzling blue eyes and angelic face. “Well if you think you’re brave enough.....?”

Her young companion squirmed with delight and took on an air of great self importance.

“Michael started driving real fast and couldn’t see where he was going and the car skidded and then there was blood and guts all over and .....”

“Ahemmmm...” interrupted Auntie M struggling to keep amusement out of her attempted look of dissatisfaction. “Perhaps I should go on little while longer yet...”

The going most certainly remained difficult. The Rover’s headlights were of little help as sheets of rain pummeled the country side. Michael found himself gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles were white with tension as he fought to keep the vehicle on the road. Slowly the lights in the tiny village grew larger and closer. But again, luck was not with them on this night. Despite their slow pace, Michael was ill-prepared when the wheels on the right side of the vehicle suddenly lost the road, tilting the Rover precariously on its side where it briefly hung suspended before completing its tumble.

The contents of the utility vehicle were tossed about like chestnuts on an open fire...

“Ooooh Auntie M.... that’s baaaaad.”

“Shish!”

... with Michael hanging on to the steering wheel to prevent himself from being catapulted towards Nikita. Nikita however was not quite as fortunate. Caught totally unaware, she was flung against the window and frame of the Rover while being barraged by unsecured equipment and baggage.

As the vehicle settled on its side, an eerie silence filled the interior. The only sound came from the rain falling against the metal skin of the now disabled transport. Slowly Michael began to make sense of his lopsided surroundings. He was aware of a tender spot on the back of his head where some unseen box had made contact during the roll. He looked to his right and he could just barely make out Nikita’s unmoving body obscured by containers and boxes. Letting go of the wheel he slid towards her tossing obstacles out of his way in his rush to reach her.

“Noooooo...” wailed a tiny voice as tears freely streamed down her face. “I’m sc-ared,” little Erica cried as she rushed to her Uncle Paul’s waiting arms. “I don’t want Kita to be deeeead,” she wailed inconsolably.

Cuddling the little girl in his lap as he gently patted her long dark curls and murmured soothing sounds against her ear, Uncle Paul’s pale blue eyes danced with amusement as they caught Auntie M’s smiling brown.

“Oh don’t be such a baabee,” taunted the little blond assistant.

“SHISH!” Auntie M once again invoked, her eyes becoming large with consternation as she considering that gagging this child could be an option after all...

Tossing the last of the packages aside, Michael gently ran his hands over her head and body, checking for injuries. He found none except a very large bump on the side of her head where it had connected with the door frame. Water was already starting to seep into the Rover through gaps opened in the accident. Michael knew that he had to get Nikita out and find a place for both of them to wait out the storm.

Michael gathered Nikita into his arms and propped her up next to him as he stood and forced the driver’s side door open. Leaning her limp body again the steering column he levered himself out and then reached back in to pull Nikita from the wreckage.

Within seconds they were both drenched to the bone as the torrential downpour continued. Michael’s cell phone had been crushed in the accident and he had no way to communicate directly with Section. So, before he set off , he activated a small emergency homing signal. He prayed that this still worked or he wasn’t sure how or when he’d be able to get in contact with Section again. Michael again gathered Nikita into his arms, and with painstaking slowness set off for the closest set of lights he could see.

************

After what seemed like hours, Michael finally reached a small farm on the outskirts of the town. Nikita remained unconscious in his arms, and Michael was deeply concerned . Lights were blazing in the windows, and Michael could just make out a room full of people. He approached the door cautiously, but with purpose. He had no choice. He needed help for his beloved...

“Eeeeek ..... Mushy stuff, mushy stuff...” cried out the little blond as she buried her face in her hands, giggling. This, in turn, set off everyone else in the room too.

Auntie M glanced up at the child’s parents who were trying most unsuccessfully to hide their own laughter and red faces behind quickly placed hands.

... his beloved Nikita.

Michael knocked loudly, for there was much noise. After a moment the door opened. He was greeted by a short, stout, balding, old man dressed in a white shirt and black pants held in place by suspenders. Michael could just make out the fringe from his Talis hanging out between the buttons of a shirt already stretched a bit much to cover the man’s generous belly.

“Vell... vhy not another?” he asked. Rolling his eyes skyward, he raised his hands, palms up, as if silently pleading with the heavens above for some response. However, receiving none, he looked again towards his visitors. “Come in, come in you’ll catch your death out dere... and vats dis??? An injured lady you have in your arms dere?? Ida... come quick ,” he bellowed over his shoulder. “Ve got Sir Lancelot vit his princess at the door and ve could use a little help please??”

Michael entered the warm, dry, but very crowded house, taking in the activity around him. People of all shapes, sizes, and manner of dress were milling about, standing or sitting on all available surfaces. His host noticed his curious looks and explained.

“Dis rain ve been having... is a bit more dan ve need but the Lord, oy gavault, I suppose he knows vhat he’s doing? So dese people, dey need a place to stay since dey get flooded out of deir homes, so dey come here. Den dere vas dis tour bus dat got stuck in dhe mud, and... vell,” he motioned dramatically around the room with his arm, “like Noah’s Ark, you see da rest!!!” The little man barely took a breath as he slowly elbowed his way through the throng of bodies leading Michael towards a small back room still continuing to talk.

“Ida, vheeere are yoooou? Ve need you now, not tomorrow please?” The little man paused in his lyrical discourse. Then slapping the palm of his hand against his forehead, his eyes became large as if he suddenly recalled something important.

“Fa draia dein kaupf, vhere are my manners? My name is Pinchas and I’m the rabbi of dis village” he said extending his hand towards Michael. Quickly realizing that his visitor had no free hands with which to reciprocate, he retracted his own with a sheepish grin.

Michael stared back at the little man incredulously as he tried to make sense of the rabbi’s monologue and his surroundings. He was anxious to find someplace for both he and Nikita to dry off and rest. His mind was really too tired to joust with his host.

“Michael,” he responded in his own quiet, softly accented voice.

“Ahhh, French. Que faites-vous, ici, loin de sa patrie, what are you doing so far from home?”

Michael could only blink in response. Pinchas never even waited for him to answer, but opened the door to the small back room where they found the single bed already occupied with a mother, grandmother and several small, very active and noisy children. Piles of personal belongings and cages with protesting foul were stacked all about. The rabbi quickly closed the door rolling his eyes again, and with a conspiratorial wink, motioned for Michael to continue following him. Pinchas led him through to the kitchen, out the back door, and under a connecting walkway to the barn. Using his entire body, the little man slowly pushed open the barn door and ushered Michael inside, lighting an oil lamp as he did.

“Vell, it’s not the Ritz but it’s dry and quiet compared to dhe UN I got dere in dhe house, yes?

Michael walked over to a pile of fresh hay and gently laid Nikita down. A variety of animals shifted in their pens and stalls in response to the party’s entrance. Michael’s senses were greeted by both the smells and sounds of goats, sheep, more hens and a donkey.

“I know, I know, a donkey is the same thing as an A**,” little Pammie chirped, her innocent eyes large and round. “I heard Mommie telling Mrs. Hernandez that she thought Daddy was A** and then she told me she meant a donkey and .....”

“Pammie, HUSH... right this instant or it’s bedtime for you now,” Gail implored turning bright red while the other adults in the room roared in response to the child’s revelation...

His eyes roamed across his new surroundings as he consoled himself with the knowledge that at least it was dry and somewhat more private than the contained chaos occupying the house at the moment.

Pinchas walked over to where Nikita lay, and placed several blankets and a small first aid kit next to her.

“So... dhe Princess here... she’s gonna be all vight?” he questioned with true concern in his voice.

Michael knelt next to her tucking several blankets tightly around her wet body in an effort to keep her warm. She still had not stirred, but he remained optimistic that her injury was no more than a nasty bump and mild concussion.

“She’ll be fine. She just needs to rest,” Michael replied keeping his focus on Nikita.

Pinchas had just turned to leave when the barn door again began to open, it’s rusted hinges squeaking loudly in protest. Michael swiftly turned, his hand instinctively reaching for his gun when he stalled his actions. There was no enemy here he quickly realized. Making their way out of the downpour were a young man and very pregnant young woman. The woman was clearly in distress as she leaned heavily into her companion.

Oh, I know... she’s gon-na have a ba-by, she’s gon-na have a ba-by, she’s gon-na hav...” Auntie M this time did clamp her hand firmly over her little helper’s mouth as she tickled her with her other hand and buried her face in the little creature’s hair, trying to stifle her own laughter. As her young victim surrendered to the torture, Auntie M continued the story giving the young imp a devilish glare of warning. “Yes, as I was saying...”

************

Pinchas hurried over to his newest guests, all the time uttering an endless series of prayers and oaths in Yiddish and Hebrew. There were even a select few Arabic phrases, some of which Michael understood and caused him reevaluate his concept of a rabbi. Checking on Nikita and seeing that there was nothing more that he could do at the moment, he went to help the rabbi with the young couple. Hastily, Michael gathered additional fresh hay and covering it with a blanket, created a make-shift bed for the mother-to-be. Gently the three men helped the woman lie down. Just as she was relaxing, her face contorted in pain and she gripped her protruding belly, screaming as another contraction took hold of her body.

“Oh nooo,” she moaned loudly her eyes squeezed tight against the agony. “Not here... not now... aggghhhhh!”

Her companion stayed close by her side, trying to soothe the mother-to-be, but he looked on the edge of panic himself. Glancing over at the rabbi, Michael wasn’t sure that the little old man wasn’t far behind in that category either.

“Oy Vey,” Pinchas moaned to the heavens as he furrowed his brow. “For dis ve definitely need my Ida...” and he was out the barn door faster than Michael could’ve ever imagined a man of his age, or size, could move.

“Zayde... that fat man sounds just like you do,” giggled little Brenda, as she pointed her pudgy finger at her grandfather.

“A little maven ve have here... Sush!”

Michael returned his attention to the young couple.

“How far along is she?”

The worried young man looked up from where he sat, his face a study in panic and concern.

“She’s only about eight months... but we’ve both been under so much stress. We were on our way to Tel Aviv, and from there to Paris... and...”

The woman screamed again, as another contraction began. Her companion held her hand out of desperation. He had no idea what else he could do to help. Michael knelt down next to the woman, and checked her pulse. Looking up towards the young man, he sought permission with his eyes to check her further. The father-to-be just blinked, clearly in a state of shock. So Michael took the initiative and gently placed his hands on the woman belly, checking the position of the baby.

He was just contemplating if he should go further, when he again heard the squeak of the barn door and saw Pinchas ushering a small group of women through the door.

“Ida... see, I told you. You neeever listen... ve got two of dem. Ve got the knocked-out shicksa princess vit the blond hair,” he explained pointing towards Nikita, “ and dhe knock-up...” Pinchas stopped cold as Ida’s eye’s grew large and outraged, “I mean dis very pregnant lady over here with the mishuga boyfriend, husband, I don’t know vat, who brings her out in dis veather, and...”

“Pinchas! Sush already!” Ida ordered, as she and her cadre of caregivers descended upon the scene.

Michael and the younger man were deftly elbowed to the side, as the women gathered around their still unidentified younger member. Her companion started to protest, but Michael took his arm firmly, and gently guided him back out of the fray. Pinchas remained standing near the door, muttering to himself as he watched the scene from the West Bank version of “E.R.” unfold before him.

“What’s your name?” Michael inquired. Having been through something similar, a long time ago, Michael appreciated the other man’s concerns and fears. He also appreciated the importance of diverting the man’s mind.

“Huh?” he responded distractedly, as he strained to see what the women were doing.

“Your name. What’s your name?”

“Oh... name. Yes. My name is Achmud. And that’s Rachel, my wife,” he explained, nodding towards the clutch of women off in the corner.

“Were you flooded out of your home?”

Achmud was still distracted, his mind consumed with thoughts of concern for Rachel. He desperately wanted to be by her side.

“Achmud? Did you get flooded out?” Michael was nothing if not persistent. He truly felt for the anxious young man, but he was also aware that there was nothing that either of them could do that would not just get in the way.

Achmud sighed in resignation. “No. I mean, yes. I mean... no.”

Obviously the younger man was struggling. Michael remained silent as he waited for Achmud to sort out his story. Turning very sad, brown eyes to Michael’s tired green, Achmud explained.

“We’re not from this village. We were running away actually... on our way to Tel Aviv to catch a plane to Paris. We hoped that we’d be able to live together in Paris without the constant fear for our lives that we’ve had to endure so far. We wanted our baby to be born and grow-up someplace peaceful, happy, accepting. We’d heard that Paris could be that way. Accepting, I mean.”

Achmud paused, his gaze falling downward, as his voice somehow became impossibly sadder. “You see, I’m Palestinian, and Rachel is Jewish. We were married, very much against both of our families’ wishes, about ten months ago. We were both old enough, and legally they couldn’t stop us. Our lives ever since, however, have been awful. And now with Rachel about to give birth, well, we decided that we had to leave. There was really no other choice. We couldn’t tell anyone for fear of reprisal, so we packed what we could carry, and left quietly, early this morning.”

Michael listened patiently to Achmud’s tragic story. It saddened him as he thought about the similarities between Achmud and Rachel, and he and Nikita.

”Auntie M? Are you crying?”

“Hush, sweetheart, and pass your Auntie M a tissue, please...”

************

“Oy Vey,” moaned Pinchas. He had quietly joined the other two men as a way of escaping the women’s work taking place on the other side of the barn. Michael and Achmud both turned to look at the pained and sad old man.

“For all of dhe grief dat dis land has seen, I vill never understand vhy dese tings still happen,” Pinchas commented, shaking his head slowly from side to side.

Achmud looked stricken when he realized that the rabbi had overhead his plight. Hearing his words now, however, he relaxed slightly.

“You mean you’re not going to try and stop us, stop Rachel from leaving?” he asked incredulously, but still with some suspicion.

“My boy, I vould be dhe last one to stop you, and your lovely Rachel from leaving. Dese mishougi politicians vit dheir loud vords, and dheir promises, and their pledges. Dhey all a bunch of putzes! Vat do dhey know from peace. Almost two thousand years ago, your god tried to talk about peace to the mishougi politicians of his time, and look vat happened!”

Pinchas stepped closer and placed a hand on Achmud’s shoulder, as he took his glasses from his nose. The little rabbi appeared very much like a wizened, old, teacher now. He looked into Achmud’s eyes, and then Michael’s. Both younger men felt as if Pinchas was looking much deeper into their souls, past whatever behaviors and facades they chose to present to the real world. It was a soothing, and almost liberating experience for each of them.

“Achmud, my boy, the rebbi teach that your Jesus vas a wise man. Ve may not agree about who he’s father vas, (dat’s a different argument), but he vas still regarded as a vise teacher. He knew dat peace and forgiveness had to start vit dhe people. Dat much hasn’t changed in 2,000 years. I can’t change your parents or Rachel’s parents. I am very sorry for dhe pain dhey cause you two, dheir own children. My Ida and me, vell ve vere never blessed vit children. But I know dhat ve’d never stop loving dhem over something as silly as vich god dhey prayed to or vich land dhey lived in. Maybe, just maybe vit your baby, you dhree can make a liddle more difference in dhe world?”

And with Pinchas’ question came the cry of an infant, and the raised, happy, voices of women rejoicing in the birth of a new life. Achmud’s eyes became large and round as a look of panic again washed over his features. Michael and Pinchas smiled and laughed in response, as they urged him over to see his new family.

“Pinchas, it’s a boy!” exclaimed Ida, grinning broadly as she stepped back to make room for the new father. The infant lay quietly in his mother’s arms. He was wrapped in pieces of clean sheets that had been brought from the house. Rachel’s tear stained face was glowing as she cuddled her son and gazed into Achmud’s loving eyes.

Oy... I always cry when I hear this part,” the plump, gray haired lady sniffled.

“Dhere, dhere, Bubbee,” soothed Zayde. He reached over and placed his arm around his wife’s shoulders, passing her a tissue, while giving the others in the room a conspiratorial smile and wink. “Alveys dhe softy, ehh?”

************

Michael stood back with Pinchas, and watched the scene unfold in all of its simple beauty. For a few moments at least, he was able to forget the reality that defined his life, and bask in the allusion of peaceful coexistence. He let his mind wander to Nikita, and their relationship. Looking at Achmud and Rachel, Michael couldn’t help but imagine how he and Nikita would play out such a scene. He could see Nikita with a baby, his baby in her arms. He could feel his heart ache with desire as he followed his thoughts to what life would be like with Nikita as his wife.

“Boaaaaaring,” cried out a chorus of juvenile critics, as they squirmed, giggled and gestured to each other as only children can do.

“You just wait until you get older,” threatened Auntie M as she shook her head at the Greek tragedy being pantomimed for her benefit...”

This ideal serenity was jarred however, when a slight movement off in the corner caught his eye. Immediately he returned to Nikita’s side. She had not been forgotten in the whirlwind of events linked to the birth. Several women had remained with her, gently placing cool rags on her forehead and an ice pack to the large bump on the side of he head.

“Nikita... Nikita, can you hear me?” Michael called softly.

Michael knelt close to her head, his lips held very near to her ear. He watched furrows form along her brow, as consciousness returned. Slowly, she shifted her head slightly from side to side, struggling with some unseen memory. Soft moans escaped from her lips. Michael reach down and took her hand in his. With great tenderness, he stroked his thumb across the top of her hand, losing himself in the feel of her soft, silky skin.

“Nikita, open your eyes.” Michael paused a moment, considering his next words. A loving smile, highlighted with overtones of concern and merriment, played across his eyes and mouth as he spoke again. “Nikita, you’re missing all of the fun. A baby was just born. Come on, open your eyes.”

Nikita’s lids began to flutter as she tried to bring her hand to her head. Feeling a great sense of relief upon seeing her respond, Michael gently eased her up so that she leaned against his chest. With great care, he brushed errant wisps of her long blond hair from her face, being very careful not to touch the right side of her head. With a sense of peace and comfort that amazed even him, he bent down and placed a soft kiss on the top of her head. His arms lovingly encircled her waist.

Finally opening her eyes, Nikita silently took in her surroundings as focus gradually returned. She was confused and disoriented. Her last memory was of riding through a torrential downpour. Now, she found herself being held in Michael’s arms, while lying in a barn? With animals? And people? And Michael mumbling something about a baby?

Nikita chose not to try and sort through these thoughts; her head hurt too much. Rather, she decided to just enjoy the feeling of being in Michael’s arms... whatever the circumstances.

“Nikita?” Michael tenderly called again.

“Michael... where are we?” she asked haltingly in response.

Michael sighed, and pulled her up higher so that her cheek now rested against his collar bone. Gently, he tilted her chin up, bringing her face more towards his. He studied her features carefully, taking in her confusion and puzzlement. His green eyes, uncharacteristically filled with emotion, he brought his warm, moist lips to hers in a feather light kiss.

The passion that came with this gossamer gesture both warmed and surprised Nikita. She wondered if she was dreaming. Could this really be Michael, holding her in his arms, kissing her with others watching? Could she really be lying in a barn, with a donkey hee hawing in the background, while chickens clucked, and a baby cried. A BABY CRIED?

Much to the protest of her head, Nikita quickly pushed herself into a full sitting position. She turned to look directly at Michael with a very puzzled expression on her face, as the goings on around her finally registered.

“Michael, where are we? What’s going on? Who are these people? And why are you acting so strange?

Michael could only smile in response as his emerald green eyes danced. Nikita watched in amazement as she could almost swear he was glowing!!!

Michael’s smiled broadened even more as he followed Nikita’s very confused reaction to him. Not only was he in love, but something magical had occurred. Michael wanted Nikita, and the world, to see it.

“Hush, Nikita. It’s all right,” he began, gently pulling her back into his embrace. Nikita resisted at first, but quickly gave in as Michael chuckled softly at her bewilderment. Settling her against his chest again, he brought her up to speed on all that had happened since the Rover had slipped off the road.

************

“So you mean that Rachel just had a baby, here in the barn?” Nikita asked. She still wasn’t completely sure that she wasn’t dreaming.

“Dhat’s right Princess,” affirmed Pinchas who had since wandered over to the pair.

Having a moment to train his thoughts again on this most unusual pair, he watched how the two interacted. Pinchas was more than a little curious. That there was deep affection between the two was obvious, well, to him anyway. There was much more though. He knew that whatever their explanation for being in the area on this night, it wasn’t going to be one that fell close to the truth. However, he decided, this issue wasn’t that important to him. Pinchas was good at reading people. What he saw was a man who cared for people and the lady who had his heart.

Perhaps what most intrigued Pinchas was pain he’d seen reflected in Michael’s eyes as Achmud told his story. There was definitely something more to this pair.

“So, Sleeping Beauty, you got dhe kiss from Prince Charming here and you feel better now?” Pinchas asked.

“Ah... Yes, thanks. I do... I guess,” Nikita responded, now blushing in addition to still being somewhat confused.

“Michael, tell me, you never yet said how you and dhe princess here came to be out in such a storm,” the rabbi inquired, capturing Michael’s eyes. Again, Michael felt as if the older man was looking past any facade that he could possibly put up.

Nikita gave Michael a worried look. Her immediate concern shifted to thoughts of possible containment that they might be forced to implement if Section felt that they’d been compromised. She still wasn’t completely sure of what was going on, but she was very sure that all of those around her were innocents. Her deep, crystalline blue eyes, searched Michael’s face, desperately trying to communicate, to plead with him not to go too far. However, Michael didn’t notice. He just continued to look at Pinchas.

“Nikita and I work for the government,” he began quietly. We’d been out in the field for several days and were in the process of returning home, when the rain started. Our car ran off the road. That’s when Nikita hit her head. Your farm was the closest refuge we could find.”

“Ahhhhh. I see,” was Pinchas’ only response as his eyes shifted from Michael’s face to Nikita’s, and back again. He wasn’t buying any of it, but it really didn’t matter.

“So, you got family, a boss you should be calling?” he continued.

“No. They wouldn’t expect to hear from us until tomorrow in any case.”

“Christmas Day? Your boss expects you to work on Christmas Day? Vhat type of a boss is dhat? Who does he dhink he is? God? Expecting you to vork on Christmas Day? Some schmuck dis boss of yours...”

The living room was awash with laughter and chuckles, when one of the children tugged insistently at a grown-up’s arm.

“Zayde, what’s schmuck?” asked little Brenda in pure innocence.

“Don’t you DARE answer that child, or I’ll box your ears!” commanded his wife before the old man could even consider opening his mouth.

“Vat answer? I didn’t say nothing!”.....

************

As word spread through out the house, the people taking shelter there slowly made their way to the barn to give their congratulations, and even small gifts, to the child and his parents. Blessings were offered in German, French, English, Hebrew, Spanish, Russian and even Scottish. And in fine Jewish tradition, food appeared for all. It became a festive occasion.

Hours later, when all but a few stragglers remained, both Rachel and the baby rested, while Achmud chatted quietly with Michael and Nikita. The three sat nestled amongst rearranged piles of hay. Nikita leaned comfortably within Michael’s arms as he rested his cheeks against her head and idly played with the ends of her hair. The rain had long since stopped, but Michael decided to stay the night before starting out again. He knew that travel would still be difficult, and he wanted Nikita to rest a bit more. He was also reluctant to leave the magical spell of serenity and contentment under which he found himself these last few hours.

“Have you chosen a name yet?” Michael asked an exhausted, but very proud Achmud.

“Well, we’ve compromised,” Achmud explained smiling. “Muhammad Isaac, after my father and Rachel’s late grandfather. Despite everything, neither one of us wants to forget our families or our heritage.” But his smile faded and his face became forlorn as he continued. “I worry sometimes that we won’t be strong enough to fight everything that’s going against us. I don’t know how we’ll get by with no family or friends. I love Rachel and my son so much. Maybe I should take them back, and I should just leave. At least Rachel would have her family and my son, well maybe in time they’d accept him too. I only want the best for them.

Nikita’s heart broke as she listened to Achmud’s thoughts. She knew that life was unfair, but she also knew that she couldn’t just sit by if there was something that she could do to help.

“Achmud, I know we’ve only just met, but Michael and I are not too far from Paris. You know us. We’re not the same as family, yet anyway, but at least you and Rachel wouldn’t be all alone.”

Nikita turned to Michael looking for support of her offer, but it wasn’t affirmation or denial that she saw in his face. He appeared lost in thought, but in fact she couldn’t quite describe the look she saw.

“Michael? Is everything all right?” she asked becoming concerned.

“Everything’s fine Nikita. Will you marry me?”

Despite Einstein’s theories, time stopped. Stopped dead.

“Ahhhm, Auntie M,” admonished a wide-eyed adult in her audience, “that’s not exactly the way....”

“Excuse me...” Auntie M interrupted, her eyebrows arching up high as she flashed a devilish smile. “Who’s telling this story?”

Nikita’s heart stopped! Michael’s heart stopped! Achmud’s eye’s bulged! And as if on cue, the barn door squeaked, jump-starting everyone, but no one’s focus wavered.

“Michael, what did you just ask me?” Nikita asked, her face frozen in disbelief. She was sure she’d heard wrong.

“I just asked you to marry me. No tricks, just a simple yes or no. I love you Nikita and I want to marry you. I want us to have a family. If Achmud and Rachel can defy two countries, two religions and geopolitical turmoil for love and commitment, I think that we can handle one small employer.”

“Excuse me everybody. Did I just interrupt something important like?” inquired Pinchas. Looking at Nikita, Pinchas burst out laughing.

“Princess, you all vight? Helllooo, Princessss. Yooooou hooooo.” Pinchas laughed harder yet, at Nikita’s frozen look of astonishment. “Michael, dis vas a surprise to dhe lady?

“Well, I hadn’t thought that it’d be this much of a shock to her,” he replied laughing and smiling. “Perhaps her concussion was more serious than I realized.”

“Vell, I suggest you do something to see if she’s still vit us.”

And that’s exactly what Michael did. He leaned over and kissed her, at first gently, and then more deeply as he felt her finally begin to respond. After a minute, he broke the kiss and sat back.

“And your answer?” Michael asked a breathless Nikita.

The only response however, was the barn door squeaking again. Everyone turned this time to watch, as yet two new visitors eased their way in. ************

“Michael! Nikita! Are you two OK? Oper...” the speaker stopped mid-sentence when he realized that they were not alone.

“Walter, Birkoff, how did you two find us?” exclaimed Nikita jumping up to run over and throw hugs around her two friends.

“Sugar! Am I glad to see you, but what’s going on here?” he asked thoroughly puzzled by the groups of people and vignettes taking place all around him.

“Oh Walter, it’s a long story. The mission, the rain, the floods, the car going off the road, Rachel having her baby, Michael proposing to me...”

Walter’s eye’s grew large and he stepped over to where Nikita stood near Birkoff, as he listened to her litany of the events of the last 24 hours. Grasping her chin in his hand and peering into her eyes, he examined her closely. He turned her head slowly, from side to side, taking note of the large bruise on the right side.

“Ohh. That explains a lot,” he observed, nodding in assumed understanding .

“Walter what are you talking about?” Nikita growled at him, as she stepped back.

“Michael, have there been any other symptoms?” he continued, looking over to the cold op, who remained sitting in the straw.

“No. No other symptoms,” he retorted nonchalantly. “Unless, of course, you want to include the fact that she still hasn’t answered me yet.”

Now Walter turned a worried look to Birkoff, and they both turned very confused faces back to Michael. “Wait a minute. You mean she’s not delusional? You DID propose? Propose what? Not...”

Once again, conversation was interrupted by the squeak of the barn door announcing the entrance of yet one more. This time, Ida.

************

“Pinchas, come back to the house this instant,” she began, scolding him while wagging her finger in reprimand. She waddled over towards the group, her body language insisting that all listen to her. “I told you to leave these people alone to rest!! Oy Vey, you never listen to me... And who are these two strangely dressed gentlemen? I don’t remember them from the tour bus?”

“Tour bus?” asked Brikoff becoming even more confused. He shrunk back behind Walter, as he fell under Ida’s deadly stare. “What’s she talking about?”

“What am I talking about? What are YOU talking about? A man with a gray pony tail and babushka, and a boy not yet Bar Mitvah’d?

“Boy!” Birkoff began to protest over Walter’s shoulder, feeling that his dignity had been challenged.

“Out! Out! Both of you two. The strange man AND the boy, Out of my barn now!” ordered Ida. The tiny woman ballooned in size such that both Walter and Birkoff became intimidated.

“Ida, Ida, pleeeease! My Id-a-la!” intoned Pinchas clasping his hands to the sides of his face as he as he walked over to his wife. In a now common gesture, Pinchas rolled his eyes skyward, raising his eyebrows as an innocent smile played across his mouth. Knowingly, he placed his arm around her shoulders, shaking her gently. “Calm down. Ve vere just about to find out about dhese two new people before you come charging in like General Schwartzkoff during the Dessert Storm! Sush and let dhe man talk!”

Michael stood up almost lazily, picking straw off his mission pants while softly laughing and smiling. It truly wasn’t a typical Michael.

“Gentlemen... Ladies... perhaps I can help straighten everything out...” And with that, that’s exactly what Michael did... to a point anyway.

“So, dis man and dhe boy,” Birkoff snarled quietly in response to this label. “I mean dhe two men are co-vorkers who vorried and came looking for you,” clarified Pinchas at the end of Michael’s explaination. So maybe your boss is not such a schmuck?”

“Something like that,” smiled Michael in response.

“Yea, yea, something like dhat, I’m sure,” laughed Pinchas back at him.

“And Princess, vhat you gonna tell dis man about his question? Ve all here vaiting you know?”

Attention again returned to Nikita, who while calmer and more collected, was still stunned by this ‘new and improved’ Michael. This time it was Ida that came to the rescue.

“Nikita, you come with me. We girls need to talk for a minute. These men, what do they know about making decisions like this. Come,” and she took Nikita’s arm, patting it gently, and the two walked over towards Rachel. Nikita knew what she wanted to answer, but she wasn’t sure that she should. She really needed some advice.

Ida began as they settled down by Rachel who had awakened at Walter’s and Birkoff’s entrance.

“My Pinchas, himself being mishuga sometimes, is pretty good about knowing people. He told me before, that there was something about you and your Michael that was special. Yes?”

Nikita only nodded. She felt strangely comfortable with this woman, and dearly wanted her counsel.

“Did you ever think about maybe one day marrying him, before now I mean?”

“Yes. I’ve often thought about it. But it was always impossible for reasons that were out of either of our controls,” she explained as tears formed in her eyes.

With this remark, Rachel felt it was time for her to speak up.

“Nikita, Achmud and I felt that way too. My family threatened to have him killed. We were both scared, but we decided that life was too uncertain to not take the risk. Neither one of us could be happy without the other... despite what our families wanted. It’s been hard. Well, you can see how hard it’s been. And it looks just as scary ahead if I let my mind wander, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Rachel gazed down at her infant son, sleeping peacefully, as only babes can.

“Maybe we won’t have a storybook life, and I don’t know how long life will be at all. I do know, however, that I cherish each day I have with Achmud, and go to sleep each night happy with the thought that I’ve had that day with him.”

“Shana Punim, my shana punim,” cooed Ida, as she gather the teary blond into her arms and hugged her tightly while rocking. “Oy, why should such happy decisions always have to be so painful?”

As Nikita felt herself pulled into the woman’s ample bosom, she let herself go and cried tears she’d been holding back for years. God, how she’d longed for women like Rachel and Ida to talk about her hopes and fears. It felt so right, so comfortable, so natural so share her concerns with these two, and to listen to their wisdom and advice.

Michael watched the three women huddle and talk. He became concerned when he saw Nikita begin to sob in Ida’s arms, and made to go over, but Pinchas stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Michael. No. Dis is women’s talk. My Ida, you can trust her. If dhe Princess is ready for dis, she’ll know after talking with my Ida. Trust God with dis... and my Ida of course.”

Michael looked into Pinchas’ eyes as the little man spoke, and once more felt a soothing feeling descend over his being. He was still concerned, but somehow, he just knew that everything would work out.

After a few minutes, Nikita calmed down.

“Nikita, do you love him?” asked Rachel softly.

“Yes. Yes I do,” was all she could reply between sniffs. And it was the truth.

“Love doesn’t conquer all, but if you’ve got love AND determination, well the two of you can make it just like Achmud and I are.”

Nikita looked into Rachel’s loved filled blue eyes and Ida’s wise brown eyes, and she knew what her answer would be. She hugged and kissed each woman before getting up to return with her answer.

Wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand, she slowly made her way towards Michael. Seeing her approach, Michael silently walked towards her. They met in the middle of the barn, away from the others. No one from either camp could hear what was being said. All they could see were two people talking, gazing into each other’s eyes. Nikita then looked down, tears again falling. Michael reached out, raised her face to his, and softly captured her lips with his. The kiss lasted but a moment. Nikita mouthed one word, there was a pause, and they both threw their arms around the other as joyous smiles broke out on their faces. Applause and cries of mazel tov rang out, as everyone rushed over to congratulate the couple. Even the animals celebrated as clucks, and naays, and hew haws resounded throughout the structure.

Walter clapped Michael soundly on his shoulder while taking advantage of being able to kiss Nikita without her decking him. Pinchas hugged his Ida, and Achmud and Rachel kissed tenderly, cuddling little Muhammad between them.

As Birkoff watched everyone rejoice, he became aware of an insistent buzzing in his ear. “Birkoff, Birkoff! Report! What’s going on? Did you find them? Did you get the disk? Birkoff?”

“Mommy, was that nasty man Uncle Paul?” the little blond assistant asked.

Uncle Paul turned red with embarrassment, as the others snickered behind tightly clenched lips.

Auntie M answered for all, her own voice barely controlled. “No dear, it was just someone that sounded like Uncle Paul...”

Birkoff pulled the comm unit out of his ear, and while meaning to place it in his pocket, accidentally dropped it on the ground where is was quickly trampled by happy feet.

************

“So you two are ready?” asked Pinchas, being quite serious.

“Now? You mean here?” asked Nikita incredulously

“Yes! I mean, now, here. You said ‘yes’, I’m a rabbi, dis is Israel, ve got the vitnesses... Vhy not?”

Nikita looked questioningly at Michael who could only laugh in response.

“Nikita, this is your decision. Wherever, whenever, you say.”

Nikita searched for Ida and Rachel. Both women were smiling and shaking their heads in agreement. She looked to Walter who grinned his devilish grin, and Birkoff who still looked a bit scared and pale, but also smiled. There really was no better time. She had her ‘family’ such as it was, with her. She could ask for no more.

Looking back to Michael, she flashed a dazzling smile towards him and said, “Sure. Let’s do it!”

“Vonderful. I always vanted to do a vedding on Christmas Day! Ida, come take the Princess and get her ready. Michael, you come vit me. Half-hour everyone, back here in dhe barn.”

And with that, the air filled with laughter and happy sounds of a ‘family’ preparing for a wedding.

************

Thirty minutes later, the stage was set. The multitude of guests occupying the house piled into the barn. Hastily a chuppah was erected, and held upright by four men. Pinchas, with Michael and Walter, stood underneath, awaiting the arrival of the bride. Each man wore a white yarmulke. Pinchas had even supplied Michael with two simple gold bands for the ceremony.

This time when the barn door squeaked, it announced the arrival of the bridal party. Ida entered first, pushing the door open. She extended her hand back towards Nikita, who taking it, followed slowly behind, here eyes demurely cast downward. Her hair had been brushed to a shimmering golden color and was piled loosely upon her head. Tendrils fell softly around her face which was lit by the glow from the single candle she held. Her head was covered by a piece of delicate lace that hung down to her shoulders, and one of the many guests lent Nikita a beautiful caftan, woven with strands of silver and gold. Walter whistled softy and Michael’s breath caught in his throat as both men looked upon a radiant Nikita.

Solemnly the procession approached the chuppah. At Pinchas’ signal, Michael stepped forward, took Nikita’s hand from Ida, and drew her close to him. Passion filled his deep green eyes as Nikita slowly raised her face to him. They spoke silently one last time to each other, ensuring that this was what each wanted. And confirming this fact, they turned to face Pinchas, who began.

Twenty minutes later, Walter bent to place a cloth covered object on the floor. Michael raised his foot, and soundly brought it down. Cheers and calls of congratulations again filled the air at the sound of the smashed glass. Pinchas raised his voice about the crowd and call out, “Everyone, I give you dhe happy couple!! Mazel Tov!! Gae Gesundt!! And Merry Christmas!!

“And twelve months later my little friend, YOU were born!” concluded Auntie M as she once again tickled her little assistant. Laughs and smiles broke out all around the room.

************

Epilogue

Champaign flutes, dessert plates and glasses of milk were passed around amidst greetings of “Happy Anniversary, Merry Christmas and Happy Chanukah. The children were busily unwrapping selected presents being handed out by Pinchas and Ida, when the door bell rang. Excusing himself, Michael walked over to greet the latest visitors.

“Achmud, Rachel, Muhammad!! Welcome! Come in,” Michael warmly greeted his guests as he took their coats.

“Oh Isaac, you missed the story,” cried little Enjoue, her blond hair flying behind as she rushed up to throw hugs around her friends. “Uncle Achmud and Auntie Rachel, I got to help tell the story this year. Auntie M let me help cause I’m almost six now.”

Achmud reached down and scooped the little girl up in his arms, giving her a hug while swinging her around. “Did she really?” he asked in mock astonishment, he eyes twinkling as he looked from Enjoue, to her father and then to Rachel.

“Yes, she really, really did.”

“Well then I’m very glad for you. Now, why don’t you take Isaac over to find his present, and the you can both play with all the other children.” Needing no other encouragement, the two took off to join Erica, Pammie, and Brenda who were well on their way to getting into mischief..

“Come into the living room,” Michael invited, guiding them along. “Nikita is in the kitchen. I’ll call her, otherwise there will be no living with her,” he chuckled as Rachel soundly thunked his arm as a reprimand.

The evening wore on. Carolers came by the house, and everyone gathered at the door to listen. Enjoue waved at Ann, Amy, and Trudy whom she knew from school. She also spied Stephanie and a new little girl who’s name she thought was Leigh, standing behind the others. The group was shepherded by Gerard and Jade, two music teachers from the local elementary school. Gail and Birkoff stood with Walter and Belinda by the fire place, chatting amicably about seasonal obligations. If either of the two men dared to mention work, they were quickly put in their places by their accommodating spouses. Madeline and Paul mingled with everyone while Michael and Nikita happily played the roles of host and hostess.

The atmosphere was magical. Almost as magical is it was that night in the barn seven years ago. Outside, the snow had stopped. Stars made their appearances, each twinkling in its own special way. Michael and Nikita stood arm in arm watching their ‘family’. Their lives felt very complete. The new year would be here soon, with more missions and assignments, but until then, they had today. And for each, this was all they needed.

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