DISCLAIMER: All song lyrics are used without permission for educational purposes only. No infringement intended through use of dialogue or character likenesses of LFN.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hope is your survival
A captive path I lead
No matter where you go
I will find you
If it takes a long long time
No matter where you go
I will find you
If it takes a thousand years
No matter where you go
I will find you
In a place with no frontiers
No matter where you go
I will find you
If it takes a thousand years.
~~Clannad
Love theme from "Last of the Mohicans"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

~~Prologue~~

Birkoff walked by Michael's darkened office. No one had had the heart or the nerve to go in and clean out his things since his death. It sat in shadowy silence, like a tomb awaiting its shrouded occupant.

He wanted to be able to look through the window and see Nikita sitting in the chair in front of Michael's desk, but he knew that she would never again sit in that chair.

He wished with all his being he had a reason to barge in and interrupt Michael and Nikita just one more time when they were in the middle of a heated discussion. But it was not to be.

He could hardly believe a year had gone by since Michael and Nikita's death. In typical Section fashion, a major inquiry had been launched into their deaths. In Section, you were not dead until Operations said you were dead.

And in this case, it was true. The mission had been seemingly routine. Michael's team was charged with infiltrating a munitions plant operated by a known supplier to Middle Eastern terrorists.

Section intel told them that the supplier was in the process of transferring the arms to another location and that all the munitions plant workers were being diverted to the new location. Their window of opportunity to take down the plant was 24 hours.

Michael and Nikita had entered the warehouse after the team operatives had reached points one and two. They gave the all clear. No hostiles were on site. Nikita and Michael entered the core sector and placed the charges that would implode the plant.

All had gone according to plan until the inner core door began to seal itself shut. Nikita and Michael were trapped with one minute to ignition and Birkoff was helpless as he relayed the news to Michael.

He went over those last moments in his mind before the explosion a million times. Why hadn't he detected the sensors that activated the door seal? What had Nikita and Michael's last thoughts been? Their last words?

It was senseless and without cause and he blamed himself over and over. He almost wished Operations would cancel him for his costly error. Walter had tried to reassure him that the sensor technology used in the plant was like none they had seen before. It was the stealth bomber of security systems. Undetectable and unfathomable.

It took days for housekeeping to dredge through the wreckage, but their bodies were finally found. Nikita face down with Michael's body on top of her, protecting her even to the very end.

And then the bodies had been brought back to Section. No one would let themselves believe it until they had seen the bodies with their own eyes. Operations and Madeline were waiting at the morgue door when the bodies were brought in. It was unmistakable. Although the bodies were charred and ripped from exploding debris, they were, sadly, recognizable. It was the first time Operations had seen Madeline give in to her feelings by nearly collapsing under the weight of this final truth.

It was as if the light and power behind the forces that kept Section One going had gone up in flames along with the munitions plant. Mortality weighed heavily among the operatives. If it could happen to Michael and Nikita, it could happen to them.

Although it was not within Section protocol, a memorial was held for Section's most feared, and admired, operative -- Michael, and most loved, and beloved, operative -- Nikita. Only Walter was able to voice what everyone hoped was true, that Michael and Nikita would once and for all, finally be together.

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

*Life's dreary for me
Days seem to be long as years
I look for the sun,
but I see none through my tears.*

Her deep husky voice filled the room like fog rolling over Lake Pontchartrain. Perched upon a metal stool, the words dripped from her lips as she lost herself to the slow swell of the music.

*Your heart must be like a stone
To leave me here all alone
When you could make my life worth living
By simply taking what I'm set on giving.*

Couples moved to the sleepy rhythm, the soles of their shoes adhering to the sticky linoleum dance floor.

*My heart is sad and lonely,
For you I sigh, for you, dear, only.
Why haven't you seen it?
I'm all for you, Body and Soul.*

A nubby cigarette stub hung precariously on the rim of Harry's bottom lip as he milked the piano keys, echoing the sad tones of the singer's voice.

*I spend my days in longing
And wond'ring why it's me you're wronging,
I tell you I mean it,
I'm all for you, Body and Soul.*

Manny sloshed another beer mug full of the dark brew as Shelly squeezed through the tables that checker-boarded the tiny bar.

*I can't believe it,
It's hard for me to conceive it,
That you'd turn away romance.
Are you pretending,
it looks like the ending
Unless I could have one more chance to prove, dear,*

Trembling with emotion, her voice crescendoed as each syllable cascaded into to the next.

*My life a wreck you're making
You know I'm yours for just the taking;
I'd gladly surrender myself to you,
Body and Soul.*
~~Heyman, Sour, Eyton, Green Body and Soul

Soft applause drifted over the room as Valerie slid from the rusty stool to make her way to the bar for a cup of hot tea. Manny had it waiting for her by the time she arrived.

"You breakin' my heart tonight, 'tite ange," Manny said.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, Manny," Valerie said as she sipped the strong black tea. "I guess I'm just in a blue mood. Must be the moon."

"Must be a man," Manny said with a toothless grin.

"No, definitely not a man. I've just got to find a job so I can get a decent place to live. I appreciate you letting me live over the bar, but I've got to start thinking about getting settled."

"Long as you keep bringin' customers in ta hear your singin' you stay as long as you want. I ain't seen this place so full since Jerzy Newman was around these parts, must 'a been five years now."

"Well, you know I love to sing, and you do have the best house band around," Valerie said as she saw Harry scuffle up to the bar for his usual shot of bourbon.

"This doll got 'em wrapped 'round her little finger, Manny. You better be treatin' her right," Harry said between gulping down his bourbon and dragging out the last bit of tobacco from the spent cigarette butt.

"Saw Madame Boudreaux's lookin' for a sales clerk, Val. I'll put in a good word if it suits ya," Manny said.

"Thanks Manny, I'll go see her tomorrow. But right now I need to introduce the back of my head to that big fluffy pillow waiting for me upstairs." She leaned over the bar to give Manny a quick peck on the cheek, gave Harry's arm a squeeze and walked through the dwindling crowd to the back staircase that led to her walk-up flat.

As he watched her go he let out a deep sigh. Poor little lost flower. She tried so hard to put up a brave front but he knew she was suffering. Losing her mother from cancer, the only family she had left, had put a big old hole right in the middle of her heart. And he didn't know if her coming to this city of lost souls would help fill that empty place or just make the pain that much deeper.

This was an unforgiving city. A place where the power of magic could make a person lose themselves in the spirits of the blues or get caught up in some of the worst gris gris Marie Laveau could conjure up.

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

The morning streets of New Orleans bore no resemblance to the pavement that played host to late night revelers. The air smelled dank and musty as the cumbersome street cleaning machines sprayed water on the sludge and trash, attempting to wipe away sins only darkness could conceal.

Since arriving in Naw'lins a little over three weeks ago Valerie had done little else than eat, sleep and sing. Getting over the death of her mother was not going to be easy. The last year of her mother's life had been a living hell for them both. When death finally came, it did not come quietly, but came with such violence that she felt a perverse sense of relief when her mother finally succumbed.

Valerie had essentially put her life on hold during the last years of her mother's life. She had cut herself off from her friends, feeling that they didn't understand her obsession with taking care of her mother, all the while placing herself in a self-imposed prison. But her mother was all she had left. When she was gone, her feeling of belonging, of having a place in the world, would go with her. She was caught between a need to do what was right by taking care of her mother and the desire to be free to live her own life.

After her mother's death, Valerie's neat, ordered life as a Boston city planner had come to a screeching halt. The very act of packing away her mother's things and putting them in storage had all but paralyzed her.

Her boss's suggestion that she take a leave of absence was a welcome nudge. She was drawn to the city where her mother started out as a blues singer. Although she'd never met them, she knew she had relatives in New Orleans. The Creole roots went deep on her mother's side of the family and she hoped that by being nearer to her mother's people that she would find some semblance of herself. She felt a kindred spirit here. She knew her soul was restless, as if there were some unfinished business that had to be taken care of before she could move on.

Unless she could clear away the shadows that haunted her she wouldn't be able to see through the darkness that enshrouded her. But until she figured it all out she had to find something useful to do with her time.

Madame Boudreaux's was located in the heart of the French Quarter on Toulouse between Royal and Bourbon. Next to the Caf‚ du Monde and the Voodoo Museum, Madame B's was a must- see for any tourist worth their salt.

Valerie stopped by Royal Blend to get a cup of her favorite French Breakfast Blend and a biegnet while she waited for Madame B's to open at 10:00. She was beginning to feel at peace here. Her life in Boston had been hectic, to say the least. She was definitely ready for a little bit of laissez-faire down time until she could figure out what to do with the rest of her life.

After wiping off the last remnants of powdered sugar from her hands, Valerie joined the few early morning tourists as she made her way to Madame B's. Madame Boudreaux's was a combination book store, art gallery and fortune telling parlor. If there was anyplace she could find that piece of her soul that was missing it was Madame B's.

As soon as she entered the shop Valerie's senses were assailed with the sweet aroma of incense. The shop was a glittering cornucopia of crystals, sculptures, water color and oil paintings and stacks of books covering topics from New Orleans history to new age healing.

A young girl wearing a tank top and baggy pants glanced up from a magazine as Valerie entered. Taking her for another curiosity seeker the girl returned to her Cosmo.

"Excuse me, I'm here about the sign in the window," Valerie said.

"You mean the sign that says readings start at 2:00? You're a little early," the girl said.

"No, the sign that says help wanted."

"Oh, great, can you start today, because I haven't had a day off in two weeks? By the way, I'm Alice," the girl said.

"Well, I think I need to speak to Madame Boudreaux first. Is she here?"

"Yeah, she's in the back."

"Can you see if she's available?"

"I'm really not supposed to leave the front of the shop, shoplifters, ya know. But if you'll keep an eye out I'll go tell her you're here."

Great, Valerie thought. The brain power of the help at Madame B's rivaled that of an episode of South Park. Valerie browsed around the store, touching the cold planes of the crystal clusters.

She picked up a light-pink colored stone and rubbed her thumb against its smoothness.

"If you wear a piece of rose quartz over your heart it will draw your soul mate to you."

Reacting as a kid getting caught with her hand in the candy jar, Valerie quickly replaced the stone and looked up to see Madame B. She was just as she had expected. A lined face framed sparkling sapphire eyes. Her red hair rested on her head in a bird's nest and she wore a flowing purple tunic.

"You must be the girl Manny told me about," Madame B said. "You looking for a job?"

"Yes, I don't know how long I'll be here, but since I sing at Manny's in the evening I can work days, and even weekends if you need me."

"Before I can hire you, I need to know some things about you. Please follow me."

Valerie trailed behind Madame B as she led her to the back of the shop into a small curtained stall that contained two chairs facing a small square table. A piece of purple silk was draped across the table. An assortment of items were laid on the table, and Valerie recognized the tarot cards and stained tea cup.

As they sat down facing each other Madame B handed Valerie the deck of cards and told her to shuffle.

"I thought you wanted to ask me some questions," she said.

"I don't need to ask questions," Madame B said. "The cards will tell me all I need to know."

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

Valerie shuffled the dog-eared deck and cut the cards into three stacks as Madame B directed.

She placed her hand over each of the three decks and chose the one that felt like "the right one."

Madame B dealt six cards into a the shape of a cross on the left followed by a vertical row of four cards on the right. She explained that the cards of the cross showed time moving from the past to the future and from the unconscious to the conscious mind.

The vertical row of cards on the right showed what was currently going on in her life that could be influenced by her inner guide the guide that would help her decipher the lessons of her life and show her what direction to take in the future.

Great, thought Valerie, I need all the help I can get at this point. She'd never had a reading done before and wasn't really sure she believed in it, but if this was what it took to get the job, she'd play along.

Madame B began to turn over the cards. She was silent as she surveyed the faded images on each tableau.

She pointed to the card in the center of the cross. "The Wheel of Fortune. You're at a turning point and are unsure of your role and purpose in this life, your destiny. You're caught up in a cyclone and are not sure where you're going to land."

Madame B then looked at the second card of the cross The Devil. "You've been caught in an unhealthy situation. You may be in the dark about something and are ignorant of the truth and its implications. The Devil reflects back the negativity that has made you doubt yourself. This is what could be holding you back.

"The card of Justice is the real source of the problem," Madame B said tapping her fingernail on the third card. "Some past life experience is having an influence on your life now and the card is telling you that you have old accounts to be settled and are concerned with doing what is right. You may be feeling the impact of a past mistake. The past will continue to haunt you unless you can recognize that mistake and make amends."

Valerie looked at the fourth card. The Fool. This is not looking good, she thought.

"The Fool in this position represents something from your past that you've resolved. It shows us that you've been innocent and have gone through an infancy of sorts and are now ready to embark on the path of growth. It's telling you that you need to learn to keep your faith and trust your natural instincts."

"With The Moon card in the fifth position, I see suffering over recent events. It has caused you to lack courage, has given you fears and anxieties, but The Moon can also inspire you to allow you to recognize the light when you do find it."

Madame B was silent for a moment as she studied the cards.

"This is your future," she said ominously. Again she was silent.

"The Tower card is a very powerful card. It signifies a dramatic upheaval, but the fates have brought this upheaval to enable you to feel a tremendous release from something that has been holding you back. It will force you to go in a new direction or to see some aspect of your life in a new light."

I guess losing my mother could be considered a dramatic upheaval, Valerie thought wryly. And she had a feeling she knew what was holding her back. Love. Or her unwillingness to allow herself to love again, to get close enough to another human being. Her emotions were raw from the sheer horror that had overtaken her life since her mother's death.

"The Star is the card of hope and inspiration. In our darkest moments we need to know that there is hope, but to realize a positive outcome you have to take action. The Star can help guide you if you can only make the effort.

Again, Madame B was silent as she concentrated on the next card.

"The World card is a card of great dominance. It tells me that there will be an influence coming into your life that will be a source of true happiness and harmony, but you have to be brave enough to open yourself up to the experience. It will be a healing sort of gift from a person or as a result of some event."

"The ninth card reveals your personal demons and shows the role that others may play in moving you along to your goal. The Judgement card is the awakening card. It is transforming and can be a sort of rebirth. When you are in need of hope and absolution, Judgement can show you that renewal is at hand."

Madame B picked up the last card and handed it to Valerie.

"The Magician. The Magician will help you tap into the universal forces that will come your way. He shows you that creativity can be yours if you claim the power of it and act with awareness and concentration. The card is a signal to act now, provided you understand exactly what you want and are committed to getting it."

Valerie looked at the card. She wanted to believe it. She hoped for nothing more than to have the strength to pick up the pieces of her life and move forward.

"If you want the job, it's yours," Madame B said. "I think The Magician is telling us both that it's the right thing to do, don't you?"

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

It was a busy morning scheduling readings and helping customers decide on whether they should purchase the onyx crystal to experience rebirth or the green quartz to get rid of nightmares. In the month she'd been working at Madame B's Valerie had learned more than she cared to admit about the healing power of crystals. It went against her practical nature to believe in such stuff, but she was starting to have fun with it and even enjoyed listening to Madame B read tea leaves for customers.

After she rang up a sale for a set of Chakra stones a man who appeared to be in his mid-30s approached her at the counter.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for a book on migratory birds of the Louisiana coast. I see you have quite a large section on nature so I thought you might know of..."

Valerie knew he was speaking. His lips were moving. But the words were not making it to her ears. All she could hear was a light humming sound as she looked into the bluest eyes she had ever seen in her life. Blue eyes fringed with long dark lashes. Her breath caught in her throat. "Birds?" was all she could get out.

"Well, birds that are indigenous to this area," he said.

"I can look it up on our database in the computer," she said, finally finding her voice and her senses.

She turned to the computer behind the counter and typed in "birds." Then she typed in "Louisiana" and hit search. A list of about ten books came up and she printed a hard copy of the list.

She turned to hand him the list and there were those eyes again.

As he scanned the list she took in his thick, dark wavy hair. It reached to curl just above the top of his shirt collar, which was unbuttoned enough to reveal the same dark wavy hair on his chest. He was tall, lean and muscular. In addition to those glorious eyes, his face contained a pair of sensuously curving lips.

"...looks interesting," he said.

"I'm sorry, which one did you say?" She was having a hard time concentrating on what he was saying for some reason. She felt her face flush with embarrassment when she realized she had totally zoned out yet again.

He laid the paper on the counter and turned it around facing her, pointing at one of the books on the list.

As she leaned over to read the title she could smell the dry, musky scent of him. She looked at his fingers. They were long and masculine, yet somewhat fragile. No, not fragile. Artistic.

"Looks like we don't have it in stock but we can order it."

"Thanks, that would be great."

Again, drowning in his eyes, she was lost. There was a moment of silence.

"I mean, that would be great if you could order the book."

I have got to get control of myself, she thought, or he would think she was as dimwitted as the rest of the staff that worked at Madame B's. She pulled out an order form and whispered, "Name?"

"Stephen Durham."

"Phone number."

"Well, I don't really have a phone. I'm living on a barge down at the docks. But I could check back whenever you think it might come in."

"It should only be two or three days. By the way, I'm Valerie."

"Well, I'll check back in two, just in case, Valerie." He gave her a crooked grin as he turned towards the door.

That rascal. He knew exactly what affect he was having on her. Why, his eyes literally twinkled when he smiled at her. He might as well have winked. And as he passed the window outside the store he caught her eye and he did. He winked.

She felt her stomach do a full triple axle turn.

"Hey, who was that?"

"What? Oh, him? Just wanted a book on birds."

*~~~~~~~~~~*

Valerie went home that night determined to get a good night's sleep. She was glad to finally have a night off from Manny's to pamper herself and to allow herself time to relax before she went to bed.

Although she welcomed the time alone, she did not often welcome sleep. Sleep had become her enemy since her mother's death. She was haunted by visions of violence and feelings of being trapped in a situation for which she had no control. Her own self-psychoanalysis told her she was still working through the nightmare of the end of her mother's life and of her ultimate death.

Tonight was no different. As soon as she reached a deep sleep she found herself in a dark, cavernous hallway. When she looked down as far as the eye could see, there were row upon row of metal staircases, spiraling downwards into oblivion. She felt herself falling, as Alice in a never-ending rabbit hole.

When she landed at the bottom she was in the dark, deep in the woods. Although it was a starless night she could see people moving around her. She thought she saw some of the people carrying guns when she realized that she too, was carrying a gun.

Then she was standing in a white room, the light so bright she could barely focus her eyes on the figure before her. She was holding the gun in her outstretched hands pointing it at the forehead of a man sitting in a metal chair. She saw the red dot on the man's forehead from the gun's sight and could hear a voice off to the side telling her to pull the trigger. And every time she pulled the trigger she woke up in a chilled sweat. She sat straight up in bed and swung her legs over the side after awakening this night. She moved to the window and pulled open the shutters with a violent tug. She had to get the window open. She needed air. She had that trapped feeling again. A feeling of suffocation. A feeling of being out of control of her actions and her reactions.

She yanked the window open and hung her head out, resting her elbows on the sill. The breeze was cool and she didn't realize she was shivering until a car drove by on the street down below breaking her reverie.

I don't need to see a psychic, she thought. I need to see a shrink. She knew the feelings of being out of control had to do with her feelings of being unable to help her mother. Yet, the dreams had become increasingly violent and the sensations eerily realistic. She could taste the coppery bitterness of fear in her mouth. She could feel her fingers press against the cold, hard steel of the gun before it exploded in her hands.

Maybe she did need to see a therapist. The fierce intensity of her nightmares was starting to have an effect on her waking hours. She was weary throughout the day but was anxious about allowing herself to fall asleep at night for fear that the demons that haunted her would once again arrest her dreams.

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

Lunch time couldn't come soon enough for Valerie. It had been a hectic morning at the shop. Madame B was giving a lecture that afternoon and Valerie had been busy making preparations.

She walked down Royal Street with no destination in mind. She had brought a tuna fish sandwich to munch on for lunch, so she wandered aimlessly looking for a quiet spot to relax. She turned down St. Peter and as she came to the corner of Chartres and St. Peter she paused to watch a juggler entertain the crowd of tourists. She noticed that Jackson Square looked all but deserted so she walked along the sidewalk looking for a vacant bench.

As soon as she came to the center of the square she saw them. The blue eyes. She hadn't thought about him since he'd been in the shop the other day looking for the bird book. Well, that wasn't exactly the truth. She had thought about him. A lot, actually. Something about those eyes. No, it was more than the eyes. But it was something that she couldn't quite define.

He sat hunched over what looked to be a drawing pad. His attention was absorbed with sketching. She intended to pass by, not wanting to disturb him, but he looked up at her and smiled in recognition.

"Hi Valerie, are you out enjoying the day?" he asked.

"Just taking a break from the shop."

"Well, join me. I could use a break myself."

"No, I don't want to disturb you. You look so engrossed in what you're doing."

He stood up and cleared away all his pencils and art supplies, making room for her on the bench. "No, really. Join me."

The eyes did it. She just couldn't say no.

"Okay. What are you drawing?" she asked as they both sat down on the bench.

"Trying to draw birds. That's why I wanted the book."

"The book?" Again she was mesmerized.

"The bird book. I'm an artist and am trying to get a feel for the form and structure of the birds here."

"Then you're not from this area?"

"No, I'm from San Francisco. I'm just here on, I guess you would call it, a sabbatical."

"Are you a teacher?"

"No, I'm a cop. Was a cop," he said catching himself.

Valerie took out her sandwich and offered him half. He took it from her hand and she couldn't help but feel a little thrill inside when his fingers brushed against hers.

"I was involved in a real messy incident last year and was in a coma for three months. My captain thought it might help speed my recovery if I got away from the city for a while, so that's how I ended up here. "I have relatives in Louisiana and had been to New Orleans when I was a kid," he continued.

"Had a lot of happy memories here, so I decided to come back. Get back to my roots, I guess you'd say."

"That's a coincidence," Valerie said. "My mother's family is from here. My mother passed away recently and I felt like I needed to get away for a while. I live in Boston now. I guess I came here to get away from the city, too."

They munched on their sandwiches in silence. She didn't know how to describe it, but she felt an electric current of energy flowing between her and the man sitting next to her on the bench. Now I know I need to see a shrink, she thought.

"What kind of art do you...?"

"What did you do in..."

They spoke simultaneously and laughed.

"What kind of art do you do?" Valerie asked.

"I'm a sculptor. Or I pretend to be. I just started doing it since being in the hospital. It was part of the occupational therapy I went through and I found that I really enjoyed it, so I've tried to develop it a little more. I like to focus on birds. Something so challenging about capturing their movement in a still, lifeless piece of rock. Plus, I think all the hammering and chipping away releases a lot of tension."

"I remember reading once that a sculptor said it was a lot like flaking away the outer shell to find the object inside."

"That's a great analogy. Although I'm not poetic enough to think of it," he said with a laugh.

"Well, you must have some poetry in you if you're able to visualize a bird in flight and capture it in stillness. Can I see some of your sketches?"

He handed her the sketch pad. The first few pages were filled with various wing spans in different stages of flight. Then she came upon a sketch of a juggler, surrounded by people watching his antics.

"Hey, that's the juggler on the other side of the square," she said turning the pages of the pad until she came to a sketch of a woman's face laughing. She studied the face as if she were trying to recognize it, but her heart was hammering inside of her chest all the while, because she clearly knew the face as her own. The dark auburn hair, the pale green eyes, the heart-shaped mouth.

"That's certainly a beaky bird," she said.

"That bird reminds me of a swan. A long, graceful neck. Very regal and proud. But very sensual."

All Valerie could think of was the witch from The Wizard of Oz I'm melting. "Well, I think you have me confused with an ugly duckling."

He laughed. She loved his laugh. It was a warm sort of sound that spoke of a shared intimacy between the two of them.

"Why birds?" she asked.

"It wasn't really a conscious thought. I guess because birds are free, and at the time I started doing this I was feeling trapped inside my own body. So the closest thing I could think of that resembled freedom to me was a bird."

"You're very good. I'd love to see some of your sculptures. Hey, maybe you could bring some into the shop for Madame B to look at to sell. She's always looking for local artists."

"I don't know if I'm that good, but if you think she might be interested then I'll bring in some pieces when I come to check on the book."

"The book?"

"The bird book."

"Oh, right, the bird book. It should be in by tomorrow if you want to stop by."

"I will. And thanks for sharing your lunch."

"Thanks for sharing your art."

She didn't know how she did it, but she got up from the bench and began to walk. Slowly, she told herself. One foot in front of the other. She could feel his eyes melting against the back of her body. She felt a heat rash coming on.

By the time she got back to the shop she was floating on a cloud. Or, soaring like a bird, she thought.

The Tea Room of the shop was beginning to fill up with attendees for the workshop on "Discovering Your Past Lives." Madame B was not only a gifted psychic, but was considered one of the country's leading hypno-therapists specializing in past-life regression. Valerie picked up one of the handouts and scanned the front page.

"Discovering your past lives can help you open doorways to your mind and your soul. Understanding your past lives is a big step on your journey for knowledge."

Valerie's practical side told her that it was all a bunch of mumbo-jumbo, or should she say, gumbo in honor of New Orleans. But her emotional side was telling her that maybe she better sit in on the lecture. She could use all the self-discovery she could get.

By the time the lecture started it was standing room only. Madame B began by relating a passage from Dr. Wayne Dyer's book "Your Sacred Self."

"Imagine this scene if you will," she quoted. "Two babies are in utero confined to the wall of their mother's womb, and they are having a conversation. For the sake of clarity we'll call these twins Ego and Spirit.

"Spirit says to Ego, 'I know you are going to find this difficult to accept, but I truly believe there is life after birth.'

"Ego responds, 'Don't be ridiculous. Look around you. This is all there is. Why must you always be thinking about something beyond this reality? Accept your lot in life. Make yourself comfortable and forget about all of this life-after-birth nonsense.'

"Spirit quiets down for a while, but her inner voice won't allow her to remain silent any longer. 'Ego, now don't get mad, but I have something else to say. I also believe there is a Mother.'

"'A Mother,' Ego guffaws. 'How can you be so absurd? You've never seen a Mother. Why can't you accept that this is all there is? The idea of a Mother is crazy. You are here alone with me. This is your reality. Now grab hold of that cord. Go into your corner and stop being so silly. Trust me, there is no Mother.'

"Spirit reluctantly stops her conversation with Ego, but her restlessness soon gets the better of her. 'Ego,' she implores, 'please listen without rejecting my idea. Somehow I think that those constant pressures we both feel, those movements that make us so uncomfortable sometimes, that continual repositioning and all of that closing in that seems to be taking place as we keep growing, is getting us ready for a place of glowing light, and we will experience it very soon.'

"'Now I know you are absolutely insane,' replies Ego. 'All you've ever known is darkness. You've never seen light. How can you even contemplate such an idea? Those movements and pressures you feel are your reality. You are a distinct separate being. This is your journey. Darkness and pressures and a closed-in feeling are what life is all about. You'll have to fight it as long as you live. Now grab your cord and please stay still.'

"Spirit relaxes for a while, but finally she can contain herself no longer. 'Ego, I have only one more thing to say and then I'll never bother you again.'

"'I believe all of these pressures and all of this discomfort is not only going to bring us to a new celestial light, but when we experience it, we are going to meet Mother face-to-face and know an ecstacy that is beyond anything we have ever experienced up until now.'

"'You really are crazy, Spirit. Now I'm truly convinced of it.'" At that, everyone in the audience laughed.

"Now since, you're all here, I may be preaching to the choir, but as human beings, we are always searching for a way to understand the purpose and meaning of life," Madame B said. "As we've sought that meaning we've found that all truth is within ourselves and that we contain a special essence that is our soul.

"And as Spirit tries to get Ego to understand, death is not an end, but a new beginning where the soul takes on a different level of awareness where we find that what we do in one lifetime is reflected in another lifetime."

She went on to explain that reincarnation is the belief in life after death. That the soul is reborn into a new physical body for the purposes of gaining knowledge and for understanding and resolving negative emotions and actions incurred in previous lifetimes.

"Through repeated incarnations, you learn karmic lessons and you enjoy the rewards of lessons that were previously learned. As you acquire knowledge and perfect your soul, you attain spiritual union with a higher consciousness."

As Valerie listened her mind began to drift to thoughts of Stephen. Although she'd only met him two days ago, she felt such a connection with him. Maybe we knew each other in a past life, she thought jokingly to herself.

"Within your subconscious mind are all the memories of your soul," Madame B continued. "You may experience deja vu, or a feeling of having been somewhere before, or of having experienced something before. You may experience deja vu in a conversation with someone, where you feel you've had the conversation before.

"You may have felt an instant attraction or an immediate dislike for someone you've just met. You may have known them in a past life, and your initial feeling tells you whether the relationship was positive or negative.

"Dreams are a key to your subconscious mind and they offer you another doorway into your past-life memories. They reveal insights and answers into your past lives by showing you pictures of how your past life affects your present. Dreams offer you everything you want to know, but were afraid to ask.

"Another way to tap into your past-lives is through hypnotic regression. Being in hypnosis is like being in a deep state of meditation. You allow yourself to bring your subconscious mind to the forefront, but you are always aware of your state of being.

"As you remember and re-experience your past lives, keep in mind that your memories aren't affected by time. Your past lives are just as real in the present as they were in the past. The energies that surround past-life events and emotions survive in the present.

"In the interim between lives, you have complete understanding of all your experiences every lifetime. Before you reincarnate into your present life, you decide what goals you want to accomplish and what lessons you still need to learn. You choose how to balance your karma, and you decide what you're willing to experience. You choose the destiny you'll pursue and the path you'll follow in your life."

Madame B went on to describe how to achieve past-life regression through self-hypnosis. By the end of the session, several people in the audience had put themselves to sleep and others had gone into a slight meditative trance.

The more Valerie thought about it, the more confused she became about her strange nightmares and she mentioned it to Madame B after the crowd had cleared out.

"I can't say for sure that your dreams are nothing more than a reaction to your mother's death," Madame B said. "But if you're willing to try it, I'd be happy to work with you in a hypnotic regression session. Who knows what your subconscious mind will reveal to you."

And for some reason, Valerie got the feeling that Madame B knew more than what she was telling her. When she'd first come into the shop and Madame B had read her cards she had mentioned that things from her past were having an impact on her current situation. Where those things from her past the things the haunted her dreams?

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

"Is Valerie here?" Stephen asked the sales clerk.

"No, but I'm Alice, can I help you?"

"I was just checking to see if a book I ordered had come in yet."

"What's the name? I'll check."

As Alice went to the back storage room Stephen browsed around the shop. For some reason he couldn't quite picture Valerie in this setting. And although she didn't say it in so many words, he could tell that she was still suffering over the death of her mother. She seemed somewhat distant and disconnected from herself and from her feelings. It was a state he could related to.

He had to admit that he was disappointed that she wasn't here now. He'd been looking forward to seeing her again. He couldn't get her out of his mind. After she'd left Jackson Square yesterday he'd all but abandoned the birds and continued to draw her, remembering each subtle nuance of expression as they had talked. Face it, Durham, you're smitten, captivated, enchanted by the woman, he thought.

"Book's not in yet," said Alice, coming out from the store room.

"Do you know when Valerie will be back?"

"She just left for lunch, so probably in about 45 minutes. Do you want to leave her a message?"

"No, actually, I wanted to see if Madame Boudreaux was here. Valerie mentioned that she might be willing to look at my sculptures to possibly sell some in the shop."

"Yes, Valerie told me you'd be coming in," Madame B said as she came to the front of the shop.

"You must be Stephen. She seems to think your work would sell in the gallery, so let's take a look."

Stephen took the metal case he was holding and placed it on the counter top. The case was lined with thick velvet and nestled within the folds were two sculpted pieces. He carefully placed each piece on the glass counter.

The first statues was of a Blue Heron. Standing approximately a foot tall, the graceful bird's majestic head rose elegantly from its long neck. The bird was made out of marble and glistened like a jewel as the light reflected off its surface.

The second statue consisted of a trio of tree swallows perched on a tree limb. Their small features were intricately carved and their wings appeared light and feathery.

Madame B looked at each statue appreciatively. "These are exquisite. I'd love to display these and any others you have."

Stephen flushed at her admiration. "I have at least six more that I can bring in. I'll leave these here if you like."

"Yes, I'd like to display these now. We can talk about how we'll price them when you bring in the others. Valerie was right. You really are very good."

"Thanks again. Would you tell Valerie I said hello and that I'm sorry I missed her?"

"Yes, I think she'll be sorry she missed you too," Madame B said with a knowing look at Stephen.

*~~~~~~~~~~*

"That guy was here looking for you," Alice said as soon as Valerie stepped in the door of the shop.

"What guy?" she said, her heart pounding so heavily she thought surely every customer in the store could hear.

"The bird guy. He brought in some of his sculptures."

"Well, then he wasn't really looking for me, then. I had mentioned to him that Madame B might be interested in selling some of his work."

"Nope. He was def-a-nit-ly lookin' for you. He's got a bad case of voodoo love," Alice said with a smirk.

"Alice, don't you have some stock to count in the back?" Yes, she was sure that every customer within a ten mile radius could hear her heart pounding.

Valerie approached Madame B, who was rearranging some of the art work in the gallery.

"Did he bring in his sculptures?"

Madame B didn't need to know who or what she was talking about. She could see the glow in Valerie's eyes and it told her all she needed to know.

"Yes, as a matter of fact he did and they are very good. I'm just trying to find a good spot for them."

"Well, where are they?" Valerie couldn't wait to see the work created by those expressive hands.

Madame B pointed to the case on the counter. She heard Valerie's virtually inaudible intake of breath.

Valerie rubbed her fingers across the plushy velvet lining as she looked at the two pieces cradled in the case. She felt as if she were looking at some sort of sacred icon. They looked so fragile, but reflected an intangible inner strength.

"Go ahead and take them out and bring them over to this display case," Madame B said.

Valerie lifted the heron out of the case gently, as if it were as delicate as an egg shell. As she touched the smooth marble she felt the spirit of its sculptor permeate her pores. She placed it on the glass shelf in the case, then went to retrieve the trio of swallows. She really couldn't think of words to adequately describe how they made her feel. Madame B could sense Valerie's confusion over the feelings the art pieces evoked in her.

"They really are quite beautiful, aren't they?" Madame B said.

"They're more than beautiful." Valerie continued to look at the pieces, not speaking, scarcely wanting to break the spell.

"It's strange," she said, "but when I touched them I felt something like a caress, like when you walk into a cobweb, just barely graze my cheek. It's like it was a memory, but then not a memory."

"They are very powerful," Madame B said. "But I think what you're feeling is something that I can't sufficiently define for you. It's something you're going to have to discover for yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"I think it's time we got to the heart of what your soul has been trying to tell you, cherie. It's something more powerful than you have yet to realize."

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

"As you breathe in and out, imagine that you're breathing in a feeling of relaxation and breathing out all the tensions and unnecessary thoughts that crowd your conscious mind," Madame B said as Valerie sat back into the cushiony recliner.

"As you continue to breath slowly and naturally, feeling relaxed and peaceful, and calm and quiet within yourself, imagine a very beautiful rainbow above you. The rainbow has been formed by an early morning rainfall, and by the sunshine that filters through the clouds. The colors are vibrant and pure, a shimmering spectrum of colors that blend into one another. It surrounds you and you almost feel like you could reach out and touch it.

"You feel yourself rising up into the rainbow...floating upward...rising slowly and naturally into the colors of the rainbow. You touch and begin to absorb the red, then orange, then yellow, then green until you move smoothly through the blue. As you enter the color you feel very peaceful and tranquil. You feel like you can say and see your thoughts at the same time. You experience a sense of knowing and understanding that the sky and earth are one and the same, with no difference between the universe and you.

"As you become aware of this, you find yourself moving to the top of the rainbow, through indigo, through violet, until you notice a shimmering white mist. The white mist looks comforting and warm and feels protective and secure as your wrap it around you, like a cloak of awareness.

"Now you reenter the rainbow, and you feel yourself gradually descending through all the colors you've experienced. You find yourself standing on the ground again, looking at the rainbow above you. As you reflect on what you've experienced you feel your mind opening up and becoming more aware.

"As thoughts and feeling surface, let yourself experience them without trying to make any connections with your present life. You will see the events in your past life but you will feel no pain or fear. You will be able to leave the event whenever you choose to leave and you will wake up refreshed and relaxed from your experience. "Valerie, can you hear me?"

"Yes," Valerie said. "I hear you."

"What do you see?"

"I'm on some sort of vertical table, strapped down. There is a man asking me questions. I refuse to answer.

"Some men are then pushing me toward a wire cage sitting on a raised stand. It is full of rats. The men place my face in the cage and release a trap door and the rats some forward and begin to gnaw at my face."

"Valerie, the rats are going to be taken away and you're going to move to another place in this time. What do you see?"

"I'm in a cage hanging from the ceiling. I look to my left and see a man in a cage next to me, just like the one I'm in. He is slumped on the floor and he is bleeding. I think he might be dead.

"I say his name -- Michael. He is still and silent, but suddenly the cage he is in starts to rock back and forth until the cages touch. He puts his hand through the wires and holds the cages together by threading his fingers through my cage.

"He starts to talk. I can barely hear him. He tells me he thought he was going to break, but he didn't. He said he thought of me. He says 'you're the only one of us who still has a soul.' I'm looking into his eyes. So sad, so full of despair. He tells me that we'll never leave alive.

"I keep looking into his eyes. He says "I don't know what love is anymore. But the only part of me that's not dead is you.' I want to reach for him, but I can't. We are separated by the bars of the cages. I'm afraid we're going to die."

As Valerie continued to describe each isolated event, Madame B began to get a clear picture of what had been going on with Valerie in her present life. Valerie described violence, feelings of being trapped in a world where she was forced to do things that she could not justify to herself. She felt unwhole and unclean.

"Valerie, we're going to go to the last day of your soul's existence in this past life. What do you see?"

"I see a factory. It's night. I can hear people speaking, telling me it's okay to proceed. I'm with the man who was in the cage, Michael. We're going down a long hallway and entering a set of doors. As we go through the doors we see crates filled with what looks like guns and ammunition.

"Michael has a small blinking device that he places on the side of one of the crates. Suddenly we hear alarms. We run for the doors, but they have closed. They are sealed shut. We can't get out.

"I hear a voice telling us they can't get us out. There is less than one minute until the detonator goes off. Michael is kicking the door. He is shooting at the door, but it is impenetrable. I run to the other side of the room, looking for another door, but there are no doors or windows.

"We both realize that we're not going to get out of there. Michael puts down his gun. He comes over to me and takes the gun I'm holding from my hand. He's looking at me, not saying anything with words, but saying everything with his eyes.

"He's telling me he never thought it would end this way, but if it had to, he's glad that we are together. I'm crying. I'm touching his face, his hair, his lips with my fingers. He's holding me by the shoulders, his eyes blinking away his own tears.

"He pulls me to him and we cling to each other. There is silence but for the clicking of the detonator device. Neither of us wants to look at it to see how much time we have left.

"We break our embrace and he takes my face in his hands and touches my lips with his. So tender. So loving. I can feel the wetness of his face as his tears brush against my cheeks.

"Then I hear him say, Ni-ki-ta and I realize he's talking to me. He's speaking in French, I think. He says, 'mon coeur, mon amour, je t'aime, ma douce amie, mon vie.' Then he's pushing me to the floor and covering me with his body. We grasp each other until I can barely breathe. I tell him I love him. And then, nothingness."

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

Valerie slowly opened her eyes. The room began to take shape. She saw Madame B sitting across from her in a recliner matching the one she is in.

"Was it a dream?" she asked tremulously.

"No, it wasn't a dream. It's the death of your physical body in your most recent life."

"But what does it mean? What's it all about? Am I, or was I, that person?"

"Yes, and because the life of that host was cut short unexpectedly your soul has unfinished business, which is why it has chosen you, now, at this point in your life. You are at your most vulnerable, having suffered a great loss in this life. Because of your vulnerability, and because your soul wants to make things right, to balance your karma, your soul has sought a home within your physical body."

"But what was it all about? The torture, the violence?"

"I believe that in this past life your soul was involved in some sort of military operation. Your soul wants to do what is right and wants to be able to have a positive impact on the world but there are things that were out of you control in your past life."

"I think this has a lot to do with your feelings of being trapped, or stuck in a situation that you can't get out of now. In this life you were meant to repair the damage wrought in your previous life. Right the wrongs, so to speak."

"And Michael, who is he?"

"There are people in your present life that have been companions in the past. There are companion soul mates who are people who help you accomplish a goal or help you fulfill a special purpose. Then there are twin soul mates, who are people you've shared a special bond of friendship with in many lifetimes.

"I believe Michael is the third type, your twin flame soul mate, your one and only true soul mate," Madame B said. "You've spent many lifetimes together, loving and caring about each other, and you share a deep spiritual bond. When you meet this person again in this lifetime, you'll feel an instant attraction and a special rapport between you. Your soul instantly recognizes and remembers your twin flame soul mate and you feel this on a very deep level within yourself."

"Stephen," Valerie whispered.

"Yes, Stephen. I sensed that your relationship with your twin flame soul mate in this previous life was troubled. There was resistance. There were untruths. There were deceptions. But that is what karma is all about. Making right in this life time the wrongs that have occurred in a previous life.

"But I've only known him for a short time. How do I know that he's the one?"

"I think you're the only one who can answer that, Valerie. But I think you already know."

"You're being given a chance at a life of happiness and serenity, but only if you are able to help your soul find the closure and peace it needs to sustain its existence."

"How do I do that?"

"Trust yourself."

*~~~~~~~~~~*

"Valerie, there's someone here to see you," Alice said, peeking her head into Madame's office.

Madame B and Valerie looked at each other. They both rose from their chairs and Madame B embraced Valerie. "Trust your inner voice," she said.

Valerie emerged from the office and walked towards the front of the store. She saw him standing by the front window, watching people pass by. She felt drawn to him. She felt a tenderness and a longing for him. She knew not its origin, but she knew there was a connection.

He turned towards her as soon as she came out of the office. His chest tightened and his breathing became shallow. He didn't believe in love at first sight, or at least he never did before.

The intensity of his feelings scared him, yet they excited him as well.

"I see your book came in," she said.

"I didn't want to disturb you if you were busy, but I just wanted to say hi," he said.

"Actually, I'm glad to see you. I wanted to tell you that your work is outstanding. We've already had inquiries about the pieces you brought in."

"Well, it's a start anyway. I'll need to rent a van I guess to get the other pieces in here, since I drive a motorcycle and don't have a car."

"I've got a 4 x 4 so I could come by your place and bring the pieces in before I come in to work."

"That's a lot of trouble for you, though. I live off the West End Park by the Orleans Marina on the lake."

"It's no trouble really. I could do it tomorrow morning. Since I don't have a late night tonight at the club I'll actually be able to get myself up and out of bed at a decent hour."

"Here, let me draw you a map with directions. Once you find the dock I think the barge will be easy enough to find. I'll even make you breakfast."

Control yourself, Valerie thought to herself. Wait until he's out of ear shot before you shout yippee!

"Thanks. I'll come by around eight and that should give us time to load everything and for me to sample your culinary talents."

"Well, if you think my artistic talents are exceptional, wait til you taste my omelettes."

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

Valerie had a somewhat peaceful night's rest. Her nightmares were most likely overshadowed by her anxiety over going to Stephen's for breakfast. She took more time and care with her appearance than she normally would have if she'd just been going in to the shop.

Valerie had been lax in getting to the gym in the past year and she hadn't had much appetite during her mother's illness. She felt thin and frail as she put on her black jeans. She brushed her thick, shoulder-length auburn hair until it shone. Usually not one to wear much make-up, she applied shadow and mascara that made her green eyes look positively luminous. She brushed an apricot blush over her flawless skin and colored her lips with a light shade of plum. She actually felt like she was getting ready for a date. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd had a real date. After all, this was a date with her possible twin flame soul mate, so she better make at least as good of an impression in this lifetime as she apparently did in her last.

As she drove north to the Lake Pontchartrain docks she thought again about her past life and about Michael. Madame B told her that she got the impression that Michael was a very tortured soul in his past life. She tried to consider the circumstances that surrounded their existence. Two people who loved each other, but couldn't act on that love. Two people forced to commit acts that were abhorrent and vile. Two people who felt that they had lost their souls and were without redemption.

Valerie's thoughts continued to meander until she reached the seawall that bordered the lake. The fishing boats were returning from their early morning excursions. Stephen wasn't kidding when he said he lived on a barge. The long, flat structure butted against the levee and spanned at least 50 feet of the lake shoreline. A cabin-like structure sat atop the rusty barge. The structure looked like it was barely held together by the last threads of a few deteriorating bolts.

As she pulled up, Stephen came out of hatch-like door.

"Welcome to the south's finest floating pleasure palace," he said.

"Are you sure it will stay afloat? You don't take this thing into the swamp do you?"

"Didn't I tell you? I make a little extra money on the side taking tourists from Kansas on the all-day all-you-can-eat gator swamp tour."

Valerie laughed as Stephen hoisted her onto the deck of the barge. "Something smells really good, though. And I don't mean the smell of bloated fish washing up on the shore," she said.

"No fish on this boat, ma'am. Just pure Grade A eggs and the specialty of the house the jambalaya omelette."

Valerie stepped over the door frame and entered the cabin. What she saw surprised her. The space was open and airy, with walls, ceiling and floor painted white. At one end of the barge was what appeared to be Stephen's studio. At the end nearest the door were his living quarters, which consisted of a fairly well-equipped kitchen, a living room area marked off with a drurie rug and a large wooden sleigh bed separated from the rest of the space by large Japanese screens.

"I'm speechless. This place looks better than my walk-up at Manny's."

"That just proves that you shouldn't judge a boat by its barnacles. Breakfast is almost ready if you want to take a quick look around the studio. I need you to help me decide which pieces to show."

The studio side of the barge was filled with an odd assortment of stones and pieces of rock. Several easels were lined against the wall and sketches of birds in various stages of flight were tacked to each. A peg board attached to the wall held what Valerie assumed to be chisels and other sculpting instruments.

Sketch pads were piled on a wooden desk and she noticed the pad with her pictures in it off to the side. She couldn't help but take a peek at the sketch again and was surprised to see at least a dozen others. He had captured her in what appeared to be her most unguarded moments of laughter. It was as if his hands knew every plane of her face, every expression in her eyes. She forced herself to put the pad back, feeling as if she had intruded on something very private and personal.

A long work bench held eight to ten finished pieces. Stephen joined her as she inspected each sculpture.

"White Ibis, Kingfisher, Pelican, Whooping Crane, Teal Mallard and others of the species," he said. "I started out using limestone or sandstone but found that I could get much greater detail with marble."

"I'm going to have a hard time choosing," she said. "They are all really exquisite. I think Madame B said she would have room for six more to start with. They are so delicate, but when I touch them they feel so solid and sure, as if they're ready to take flight. And they all seem to have such a distinct personality, sort of an individuality."

"Now you're embarrassing me," Stephen said as he took her hand and led her to the breakfast table.

"I'm serious, Stephen. You would have thought you've been doing this all your life. You could have your own gallery showing if you really wanted to."

"Well, I don't consider this my lifetime ambition. Right now, it's therapeutic for me and it allows me to express what little creativity I have. But it means a lot to me to know that you can see what I'm trying to do with each bird."

He let go of her hand as he pulled the chair out for her. She felt a warm familiarity from his touch.

"So this is the jambalaya omelette."

"Yeah, you just throw in a little of everything you have in the kitchen, pour on the cayenne pepper sauce and say a prayer to the Cajun god of Mylanta before you dig in."

Valerie burst into laughter. I really like this guy, she thought. It feels like coming home.

"Probably not the best thing to serve to a woman you're trying to impress, though," he said.

"You've already impressed me. You can quit trying."

He stopped, fork loaded with omelette in mid-air and looked at her.

"No, I don't think a guy would ever want to stop trying with you."

Oh, hell, she thought. Let's just skip the breakfast and the etchings and get right to bed. She didn't know if her attraction to him was so strong because of the recent drought of men in her life, or if it was because of something else. The eyes had a lot to do with it. She was sure of that.

"Don't tell me you made this brioche. I'll start to feel real inadequate if you did."

"No, I cannot tell a lie. I owe it all to La Madeleine's Bakery."

"So, what's a big city girl like you doing on a barge on Lake Pontchartrain?" he asked.

"Escaping, I guess. I think I mentioned that my mother died recently. She had colon cancer and she suffered pretty badly from it. I took care of her for the last year of her life and it really took a lot out of me. So, when my boss at the city planning commission suggested I take a leave of absence, I took her up on it."

"Why New Orleans?"

"My mom has relatives in Louisiana and when she was in her twenties she sang in a jazz quartet here. I guess that's where I get my musical talent. Before I got the job at Madame B's I was just singing at Manny's club in Pirates Alley. Being here has kind of taken me back to a time when my life was simple. Before all the stuff with my mom. Her death has caused me to question my priorities in life, that's for sure. I guess I feel like I have a lot of housecleaning to do on my soul."

"I know what you mean about changing priorities. Before my accident I was pretty much a control freak. Being a cop took a lot out of me and I always had a need to be the best, which tends to cause a lot of pressure. Then, all of a sudden, while I was recovering in the hospital I felt like I wanted a different kind of life. I'm not sure yet what that is, but I feel more at ease with myself since I've been here."

Valerie thought back to all the things she remembered about Michael in her past life. Madame had said that a soul taken prematurely from one life will seek to make amends by entering a host who is vulnerable, someone who is experiencing a life-changing force. The more she talked to Stephen, the more she allowed herself to open up to him. After awhile it felt so natural. It felt like they were kindred spirits.

"Let me help you clean up the dishes and then we can decide which pieces to take to Madame B's. Breakfast was really good. I don't think I've ever had a man cook for me before."

"Well, any man who wouldn't want to cook for you is either a fool or dead."

As they stacked the dishes next to the sink, they fell into a companionable silence. Valerie's senses were on overload being so close to him. Once when they brushed past each other their eyes met and for a brief moment she felt like she had been lost in those eyes many times before.

After the six sculptures were selected, they began loading them into the back of Valerie's Jeep.

Each piece was packed in bubble wrap and placed in an oblong wooden crate. Just as Valerie was about to shut the back door of the Jeep a cat jumped into the back seat.

"Looks like your cat wants to go along for the ride," Valerie said.

"It's not really my cat. I think it has adopted me. It just showed up one day and decided to stay.

I don't even know if it's a male or female. I just usually call it 'hey' and it comes running."

He reached into the back seat and pulled the cat out and placed it on the dock. As he turned around to shut the door, Valerie pressed herself up against the side of the Jeep to give him room. She experienced another one of those moments where the nearness of him made her feel light-headed. But this time, when their eyes locked, Stephen didn't look away, and neither did she.

He moved nearer to her and placed his hands on the top of the Jeep, capturing her between his arms. Without a word, he leaned down and touched his lips to hers, tentatively at first, as if he were waiting for her to decide how far to take it.

Instinctively, she reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Her mind kaleidescoped as she lost herself in his warmth. Their souls collided in recognition as Michael breathed life into Nikita across the span of time and space.

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

She had invited him to come and hear her sing at the club that night. Every time the door opened she looked to see if it was him. After her last set was over she decided that he wasn't going to come.

"So you gonna try and tell me again that your blue mood ain't due to some man?" Manny asked.

"No, I'm not gonna try and tell you that again, because it wouldn't be true this time," she said, sipping her tea.

"Well, sa c'est honteu, it's a damn shame, sugar. He ain't worth wastin' your brain cells on. Thay's plenty other fish to fry, hon."

"Unfortunately, it's in the cards with this one, or so Madame B tells me."

"You lissen to dat ole woman, 'tite chatte. She knows her stuff."

Valerie went upstairs and drew a hot bath. She tried to think of every excuse she could for him not showing up. He may have gotten involved with is work, she thought, and, after all, he doesn't have a phone so he couldn't call. Filled yet again with doubt and confusion, she slid into the soapy water in an attempt to relax.

*~~~~~~~~~~*

Stephen was anything but relaxed. His breakfast with Valerie had unsettled him. It wasn't a bad feeling, he just felt conflicted over the intensity of his feelings for her. He'd had every intention of going to Manny's to hear her sing, but instead, found himself wandering the streets of the Quarter until well past midnight.

He ended up at the end of St. Louis at Basin Street, outside the gates of the St. Louis Cemetery.

Just the kind of place I thought I'd be a year ago, he thought. But somehow he'd survived the gunshot wound that entered and exited his skull, leaving him in a coma for three months. He had no memory of that time. Three months of a lifetime gone without a trace.

And now he found himself in New Orleans, falling in love with a woman he didn't even know existed two weeks ago. From the first moment he'd seen her in Madame B's he'd wanted her. It wasn't just the fact that she was a beautiful woman. It had more to do with how he felt when she invaded his thoughts, which lately seemed to be all the time.

There was a part of him that cried out to him in the night, in his dreams. It spoke about time. Telling him, don't waste precious time. Don't let anything or anybody keep you from something as rare and priceless as a woman's love. It was pushing him forward. Propelling him towards her with a force that was unlike anything he had ever experienced. And it scared the hell out of him.

This voice that haunted his subconscious wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know. He recognized her in the first second their lips met today. It was as if he had found a part of himself that he didn't even know was missing. It inspired him in unimaginable ways. The air he breathed came from her light. The beat of his heart came from her rhythm. And so here he was, standing outside of a cemetery in the middle of the night when he could be with her. He heard the voice again don't let fear keep you from loving.

*~~~~~~~~~~*

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
*Where all our love resides
Where the dissonance seems to die
I will meet you there
We'll stand together
Where the daylight falls and fades
Your love lives in the sun
I will pass your way
This stands forever*
~~Beverly Klass
Temple
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Walter leaned down and brushed the fallen leaves off the top of the tombstone. He was surprised to see that there was a tombstone. Section's disciples were as anonymous in death as they were in life.

It had been a year. He had to come to the place where they were physically resting to make himself believe it. He had to believe that they were both in a better place. And he had to believe that they were together.

They had struggled with their love so much in life, it was only right that they should find a union of their spirits in death.

Section liked to pretend that their loss didn't make a difference, but he knew that it did. They knew that it did. No one had even been able to go into Michael's office for the past year.

The usually stoic Madeline had changed as well. Gone was the game playing, the manipulating of emotions, the using of weaknesses for whatever purpose section deemed. So in the end, it seemed as if Nikita had won after all.

Be at peace, sugar.

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

Valerie awoke with a pounding headache. She'd had another of the dreams last night, only this time she recognized the players.

He had entered the cabin of the houseboat in the shadow of darkness. His gun drawn, he listened for intruders. He took the gun she held away from her. The air was tense with anticipation. They were together again after a never ending separation.

He grasped her roughly and threw her to the bed, surprising her with a violently passionate kiss. He looked at her with an intensity that he had never before revealed. It was a night of passion. One of the few nights of pure emotion they had shared. And yet it left her feeling hollow inside. His parting words to her had been 'sometimes all we have are our dreams.'

It was how she felt now. Was history repeating itself in this life? She feared that Stephen was withdrawing. Of course she had nothing to base these fears upon. It could have been a simple misunderstanding that he didn't show up at the club last night. But it could have been purposeful, and if so, then she didn't think she had the emotional strength to play cat and mouse right now.

The shop was fairly quiet that morning. It was a rainy, dreary kind of day. Not a lot of tourist traffic. Madame B had bookkeeping to take care of so she was sequestered in her office. Alice was coming in late that day, so Valerie spent most of the morning cleaning out the jewelry display case.

The bell over the door tinkled and Valerie raised up from behind the counter to greet her customer.

"Hi." It was Stephen.

"Hi," she said.

They looked at each other. They looked into each other.

"I came to apologize for not showing up last night."

Valerie didn't say anything, but waited for him to continue. She was finding it hard to gauge his mood. His face was expressionless as he walked towards her.

"I don't know why I didn't come. I started out with every intention, but for some reason I just took off in another direction."

"Maybe we're trying to rush things. Maybe we're assuming things that aren't there and should just take it easy."

"No," he said, grabbing her hand as she moved to bend down behind the counter to continue cleaning.

"No, I'm not usually like this, so indecisive. But I've never met anyone like you before and I guess it scares me."

"I scare you?"

"No, not you, us. This...thing between us. I think you feel it too." He rubbed his thumb across the palm of her hand. Yes, she felt it.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry and to ask you if you'd let me take you to dinner tonight to make up for it. And to thank you for believing in my art and helping me get it displayed."

Valerie's mind was in turmoil. She remembered the dream. The dream of cat and mouse. But Madame B said that when you're balancing karma, you're correcting negative events and emotions by bringing them to a positive resolution. So maybe this was Michael's way of trying to make restitution.

"I have to sing at the club tonight, but I've got the early set, so I could go to dinner after that. It would be about 8 o'clock."

"Then I'll come for your set and we can go from there."

He still clung to her hand. He moved closer to her and pulled her hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss within her palm.

"Thanks for giving me another chance."

*~~~~~~~~~~*

When Alice arrived, Valerie went back to Madame B's office and slumped down into the recliner.

"Why so sad, ma jolie fille?"

"Bewitched and bewildered."

"Let's see what the cards have to say," Madame B said, rising to get her deck of tarot cards.

Valerie shuffled and cut the cards and handed one of the decks to Madame B. She dealt out three cards and turned over the first card.

"The first card gives us a message about the immediate past it tells us what has led us to question ourselves. The Hermit represents the desire to focus on our inner world, to seek answers within ourselves that can only come from solitude. You've been questioning yourself, your relationship with Stephen, his reactions to you?"

"Yes, he was supposed to come to see me at the club last night and didn't show up. Then he came in this morning to apologize and ask me out to dinner tonight."

"I'd say he's been doing some of his own soul searching. He may be questioning the obvious. He may sense that there's a deeper reality between the two of you and he's searching for it"

Madame B turned over the second card. She explained that the second card represented the present and gives us a message describing the present development of the current situation.

"The Lovers refer to a relationship that is based on deep love the strongest force of all. The Lovers represent the attractive force that draws two entities together in a relationship. It stands for tough value choices and the questioning that goes with them.

"Even though you may be drawn to each other, you are still at a stage in the relationship where you will naturally question your beliefs. You each have to choose to follow your own path and only your fates will determine if those paths will meet at a crossroads or if they will veer apart."

"The third card gives us a message regarding the outcome of the second card The Lovers." Madame B turned over the third card. Death.

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

Valerie slumped even further into her chair.

"Well, let's just pack up the cards and I'll go home now."

Madame B chuckled. "The card of Death is not a permanent end, but a transition into a new state. To grow, to move, to live we must die to the old and give birth to the new. You are both coming to the end of a time in your lives when you've experienced great sadness and reluctance, but also relief and a sense of completion. Only then will you be free to embrace The Lovers. So you see, once you die you're born again to establish a new bond and a new union. Death frees you to make the connection that The Lovers signify."

"So I'm not doomed?"

"No, far from it I'd say. What did I tell you when we did your very first reading? The Magician told you that you should act now, provided you understand what you want and are committed to getting it. If Stephen is what you want, then you need to throw away the self doubt and fear that separates you from love."

*~~~~~~~~~~*

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
*Look at me,
I'm as helpless as a kitten up a tree,
and I feel like I'm clinging to a cloud;
I can't understand,
I get misty just holding your hand.
Walk my way
and a thousand violins begin to play,
or it might be the sound of your hello,
that music I hear,
I get misty, the moment you're near.
You can say that you're leading me on,
but it's just what I want you to do.
Don't you notice how hopelessly I'm lost,
that's why I'm following you.
On my own,
would I wander through this wonderland alone,
never knowing my right foot from my left,
my hat from my glove,
I'm too misty and too much in love.*
~~Erroll Garner, Johnny Burke
Misty
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"So dat the man gon break your heart, little hon?" Manny asked.

"Not tonight, Manny. If anybody's gonna be breaking any hearts tonight it's gonna be me," Valerie said.

'That's ma girl, go git him, sugar."

"Your bartender has been giving me the once over ever since I got here," Stephen said.

"He's just a little protective of me."

"Why do I have the feeling that you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself?"

"We'll see," Valerie said as she took Stephen's arm and they headed for Toulouse Street for dinner.

Valerie was glowing, inside as well as outside. She loved singing for Stephen. Their eyes locked the minute he came into the bar and they didn't stop communicating until she finished her last song.

As they waited in the restaurant bar for their table to be ready Stephen studied Valerie's profile. She turned and caught him looking and smiled.

"Just studying, from an artistic point of view, of course," he said.

"Of course."

"You have a beautiful voice. It was made for all those old jazz tunes. Kind of smoky and husky. Real sexy."

"Manny calls it a whiskey voice."

"Well, whatever makes it do what it does, I like it."

All through dinner they continued to flirt. Stephen listened to the little voice in his head and opened himself up to Valerie. And as his reward, he watched her blossom right before his eyes. He couldn't stop touching her. Her hands, her arms. His leg brushing up against hers under the table.

After dinner they strolled along the crowded Quarter streets, arm in arm. They stopped in at Maxwell's Toulouse Cabaret to hear some rousing jazz and ended up dancing in each other's arms at the Mystick Den at the Royal Sonesta Hotel on Bourbon.

Being in Stephen's arms comforted Valerie. It felt like a long-awaited homecoming. It felt like they had never been apart. All the suppressed passion from the past was but a memory. His touch was a salve to her broken spirit. His kisses were a tonic for her ailing heart.

"I hate to end this beautiful evening, but I really should be getting home," Valerie said at last, hating to end the enchantment. "I have to open the shop in the morning which means I get to clean up from tonight's tea and lecture."

Not really wanting the night to end, they strolled at a leisurely pace until they came to Manny's. They walked through the ornate gates to the inner courtyard that led to Valerie's second floor flat. Sitting close together on the concrete bench, Valerie leaned her head on Stephen's shoulder.

"I want you to know that I really want you to come upstairs withe me, but there's a part of me that says I don't want to rush this. It's too perfect right now and I don't want to spoil things."

"And I want you to know that I really want to come upstairs with you too, but I can wait. I've waited 35 years for you. I think I can wait a little while longer."

They walked hand in hand up the staircase and Valerie took out her key to open the door. Stephen ran his hand along her back and she felt a tingle all the way down to the base of her spine.

She turned into his arms and their lips met in a mutual melding.

His kiss was passionate from the start and when Valerie opened her mouth he moved his tongue inside to caress her. Her hands went around his neck and she dug her fingers into the hair that curled around the nape of his neck.

They shared the kiss for what seemed like an eternity, but not long enough. Stephen pressed his lips against her brow and took the key from her hand to unlock the door.

"You need to go in now and shut the door," he said. "Then I'm going to turn around and walk down the steps, get on my bike and go home."

"Are you reading the directions from a manual?"

"No, I'm just verbalizing it so I can convince myself that that's what I'm going to do," He pulled her against him again and gave her another of those searing kisses that threatened to unhinge her sanity.

"I'd say I'll call you, but that would be a lie, since I don't have a phone."

"Don't call me. Just think about me."

"That's not in the manual but definitely on my list of things to do."

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

When Valerie, still on a cloud from the previous night, floated into the shop the next morning she found a package sitting at the doorstep. She unlocked the door, placed the package on the counter, and went to the back of the store to turn on the lights.

Yesterday's lecture had been to another packed house, so she had lots of cleaning up to do. By the time she opened the shop at 10 she was exhausted.

"Hey Valerie, there's a package up here for you," Alice said as she came in.

She had completely forgotten about the package. She had assumed it was some sort of delivery for the shop, but when she looked at the label on top it had her name written on it.

She tore off the brown packing paper to find a small white box within. Inside, wrapped in white tissue paper was a carving of a white swan. Its neck -- so slim and elegant. Its feathers a downy gossamer web. At the bottom of the box she found a note:

@~{~{~~
Dear Valerie:
The swan symbolizes feminine grace, beauty and purity that brings forth a live epiphany of light. This swan, the Trumpeter, is the rarest, just as you have become a rare and precious part of my life. The swan is one of the few bird species where the male and female mate for life. The swan you have today is one of two that I've created. The other one is waiting for you when you are ready to receive it.
Stephen
@~{~{~~

Valerie felt her eyes begin to tear up about halfway through reading the note. She heard Madame B come up behind her.

"Have The Lovers fulfilled the prophesy?" she asked.

"The Lovers are moving in that direction."

She held the delicate swan in the palm of her hand, showing it to Madame B.

"I'd say your Michael is well on his way to atoning for any mistakes he feels he's made in his past life, wouldn't you?

"I think Nikita would be very proud of him," Valerie said.

*~~~~~~~~~~*

That afternoon she had a courier deliver a message to the Stephen at the barge.

"Set the table for dinner. I'm cooking tonight."

After she got off from work she made a quick trip to the grocery store to purchase all the items she needed for dinner. Her heart soared all day and she must have reread the note from Stephen at least every other minute. Nikita, if you're not with me in body, I hope you're with me in spirit, she thought.

When she arrived at the barge it appeared to be dark. She knew that it had electricity from a power generator, so she became alarmed that Stephen had not gotten her note and that he would not be home.

She approached the doorway and looked in through the port hole. The glass was so cloudy that she couldn't really see inside, so she pushed the door open with a creak.

The site before her took her breath away. The entire barge was filled with candles, from stem to stern. Their soft glow cast an eerie, flickering light that created an erotic, inviting nest.

The table was set with a white table cloth, china, crystal and a large vase of wild flowers. Stephen was nowhere to be seen and when she went out to the Jeep to start bringing in groceries she noticed that his bike was missing.

After her third trip in with the bags she found a note on the kitchen counter. "Be back in a flash. Went for supplies."

She laughed, trying to imagine what 'supplies' he was stocking up on. After unpacking the groceries she brought in the old record player that was her constant companion and set it up in the living room. She pulled out one of her mother's Nina Simone albums and put it on the turn table. She sang along with the record as she began preparing a dinner of catfish a la ettoufee, rice pilaf and steamed asparagus. She heard Stephen's bike roar up just as she was beginning to toss the salad.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
*Do I move you, are you willin'
Do I groove you, is it thrillin'
Do I soothe you, tell the truth now
Do I move you, are you loose now
The answer better be (yes, yes)
That pleases me.
Are you ready for this action
Does it give you satisfaction
Are you hip to what I'm sayin'
If you are then let's start swayin'
The answer better be (yes, yes)
That pleases me
When I touch you do you quiver
From your head down to your liver
If you like it let me know it
Don't be psychic or you'll blow it
The answer better be (yes, yes)
That pleases me*
~~Nina Simone
Do I Move You?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Stephen got to the inside of the doorway but could go no further. He watched her through the haze of soft candle light as she sang along with Nina and went through her preparations for dinner. If she isn't the most beautiful creature God put on this Earth then I don't know what is, he thought.

After a few minutes, Valerie sensed a presence and turned around to see Stephen looking at her, caressing her with his eyes.

"I've don't think I've ever had a woman cook for me."

"Well, any woman who wouldn't want to cook for you is either a fool or dead."

"Touche."

He came up behind her, put his arms around her waist and trailed soft kisses from the nape of her neck to her ear. She turned around wrapped her arms around his neck, still holding on to the salad tongs. He brushed his lips back and forth against hers, teasing her, daring her to press her lips against his.

She teased him back, running her tongue along his bottom lip, but still resisting a kiss. He lost the battle and took her mouth in his with white hot passion. She dropped the salad tongs to the floor. Their tongues encircled each other's. Their hands caressed each other. Their lips enveloped each other's. Their souls were intertwined in an arc of energy.

Valerie felt Stephen's hardness pressed against her hip. Well, she thought, dinner won't be ready for at least 45 minutes.

He scooped her up and carried her to the bed that lay hidden behind the shadowy Japanese screens. A soft aura of candle light illuminated the bed as he laid her down, kneeling next to her, never breaking their kiss.

She tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin. Her hands found the sculpted muscles of his back and she kneaded the flesh between her fingers. Stephen moaned when her hands made their way to the front of his pants and found the zipper that held him captive.

He slipped his hand beneath her dress and cupped her bottom as he positioned himself next to her on the bed. He pressed her thighs against him and suckled her nipples through the silk of her dress.

They both decided at the same moment that the clothes had to go, so in a frenzy of arms and legs, they removed their own and each other's garments until their bare skin met in a joyous reunion.

'Mi-chael,' Valerie's soul cried out.

'Ni-ki-ta,' Stephen's soul cried out.

He nuzzled her breasts until her nipples were taut and tender. He couldn't get enough of feeling her skin beneath the sensitive pads of his fingertips. He felt the inner essence of her soul as he did when he ran his hands along a virgin piece of stone.

Valerie shifted her hips and spread her legs out, linking her ankles around Stephen's thighs. She pushed her softness against him in a wordless plea for him to fill her. He entered her with abandonment and began the slow, rhythmic motion that took them both back to another place and time. To another night, on another boat. To another lifetime. Time past melded with time present as they reached the pinnacle of their passion. Stephen's blue eyes looked into Valerie's green eyes and they saw their destinies sealed, the prophecy fulfilled. They clung to each other until their bodies stilled, reluctant to let go of the magic.

The voice whispered to Stephen. Don't let the moment pass. Don't let yourself live with the regret of the things you didn't say, of the things you didn't do.

Stephen moved his body and lay next to Valerie. He brushed his knuckles against her jaw and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"Val-er-ie, I love you."

"I love you, Stephen."

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

When Stephen awoke the next morning he was alone in the bed. He raised himself up on his elbows and saw Valerie standing, unclothed, gazing out the porthole window, the soft breeze ruffling her hair.

He moved from the bed and went to stand next to her at the window.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Fine," she said.

He reached out to caress her shoulder, to finger the silken strands of her hair. She looked up at him and smiled.

"Before I came here, before we met, I felt dead inside," he said. But since that first day I saw you, you brought me back. I didn't realize how much I could need someone."

"So what happens now?"

"We live. We live."

*~~~~~~~~~~*

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
*Everything is foolhardy
And never is so good
Who will need an explanation
If all is understood
This time has come again
It's all shining through
This one will be forever
And I'll be there for you*
~~Clannad
There For You
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Valerie heard three short raps on the door. Not expecting anyone, she opened the door a crack.

"Can I come in?"

It was Stephen.

"Of course."

He entered the hallway and brushed past her as he walked to the living room.

"What have you got in your coat?" she asked.

He unzipped his jacket and pulled out a mewing, orange kitten.

"Well, we now know that the cat is female."

"Oh, Stephen, she had kittens?" She reached for the furry ball of fluff and cradled it in her arms.

"I thought you might like to have one." He moved towards her and reached down to kiss her on the lips. She returned the kiss lovingly, tenderly.

"When you left this morning, something was missing."

"Oh?"

"I don't mean just you. I mean...that," he said pointing to the second swan he had carved. The two swans sat side by side on the coffee table in the center of the room.

"Well, remember you told me I could have it when I was ready to receive it. I was ready. And besides. The other one was really lonely without her mate."

"Let's make a promise," he said.

"What kind of promise?"

"Let's promise each other that we'll always live in the moment. That we won't fight what's between us. That we won't keep things hidden. That we won't live to regret the things we didn't say or didn't do."

Valerie felt a sense wholeness come over her. She knew that Michael had finally been able to break through the chains that bound him to the past. She knew that Nikita was at peace and that she and Michael had fulfilled their destiny in this life.

"I promise. I promise with my whole body and soul."

*~~~~~*

The End

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