The silence that filled the flat was deafening. "Callie? I said I wished I could help you, and I know I didn't do a very good job of it, but I'll say it again: I wish I could help you. I wish I knew what to do. I wish I could just apologize for you, or take that necklace thing back for you, anything. If I could, I'd do it. I'd kiss Jamie Flynn properly if I had the chance!" She rose, and addressed the ceiling. "I would have liked to say goodbye in person, and to thank you in person too. I know you get all embarrassed and stuff, but I would like to say thanks face to face ... " Annabelle trailed off. I, she thought, am a sentimental sap. "If there is anything I can do, even at the eleventh hour, well, let me know."

Annabelle went to check the bedroom, one more time. The closet was stuffed to the rafters on the left side, and she made sure that the boxes were well balanced and wouldn't crash on poor Gunter's head. She'd left the right side clear, even though he'd assured her that he only had jeans, T-shirts, and leotards, and that they didn't take up much space. She paused and looked at herself in the mirror that hung over her bureau. That's me, she thought, I'm back. I may even be more 'me' then I ever have been before. She smiled at herself, and went back in to the front room to tackle the bags.

Everything had been packed up, and her luggage was very helpfully waiting for her by the door. Annabelle sat on her little couch and waited, in the gathering dusk, for the beginning that was right on the heels of this ending.

"You didn't have to come all the way out here to see me off." Annabelle kept hugging her friends as they prepared to get her and her bags into the car service Lorna had booked. It was a protracted event, as Maria Grazia was worriedly going through each case, ensuring that everything was in its place, and Lorna kept collapsing onto the little sofa.

"You got your ticket? You got your passport?" MG fussed.

"She'd shown it to you five times," Lorna snapped, her eyes squeezed shut behind her dark glasses, in the grips of the most epic hangover of her life.

"I'm going to miss this place," Annabelle said, as she gave up and sat down on a 'dining room' chair. Maria Grazia was going through her big backpack for the third time.

"You'll be back before you know it," Lorna wheezed.

"I - I don't know." Annabelle clutched her hands in her lap and fought the urge to say goodbye to her bedroom one last time.

"Oh, no, no you don't, no projections or premonitions, please, and definitely not of an ominous nature!" Maria Grazia put her foot down. "Magical Pookas are one thing, but predictions of death and destruction are definitely not allowed."

"No, nothing like that. I may want to stay on a bit, travel, I don't know." The plan was so new, it couldn't even be precisely called a plan. Not at this point. Because, agent or no agent, how stupid would it be to move to Ireland permanently? Annabelle shook her head, and changed the subject.

"I hope Callie remembered to pack my toiletries properly. I had them all wrapped up in my underwear and tucked in shoes and things so they wouldn't take up too much space. I double-checked her on the computer stuff, but I didn't want to push it, in case she got insulted and unpacked it all again." Annabelle sunk down a bit in her seat. "She was so high maintenance."

"You'll miss her," Maria Grazia stated. "Now you have our phone numbers?"

"Maria Grazia! I know your phone number! All of them! Not even by heart anymore, they're embedded in every strand of my DNA!"

"And you'll call us when you get in, I don't care what time it is, right, Lorna? Whatever time you get in, you call."

"If you call me at any time that precedes nine o'clock in the morning," Lorna groaned. "I will come over there and will bloody well kill you."

"If you'd drink more water, you'd begin to rehydrate, and all the little cells in your body that are currently screaming in agony would relax and breathe once more." Maria Grazia zipped up the backpack. "You call me, you leave a message, maybe the cell phone is best, but you call me, you hear me?" She leaned forward a fraction, and raised her voice. "You can call me, anytime, anywhere, if you need anything, honey, anything at all."

"Stop screaming." Lorna moaned.

"I'll be fine. Maybe we should get all this stuff outside, wait for the car. Lorna looks like she needs some air."

Maria Grazia picked up every single bag and hurried down the short corridor to the door. Lorna winced at the dull beam of sunlight that edged into the hall, and followed on behind.

Annabelle cast a last look around the place, already nothing at all like the home she'd built for herself, lovingly, over all those years, gently shut the door, and smoothly shot the bolt.

No going back now! she thought, and was suddenly overwhelmingly grateful that her friends were seeing her off.

Except that they weren't there. Her bags were piled up on the bottom step of the stoop, and Maria Grazia and Lorna were nowhere in sight. Were they out of their minds? Leaving all her stuff, all her worldly goods, just sitting there on the street! Annabelle ran down the steps and looked up toward Court Street. She shifted the small carry-on bag she held, from one hand to the other, before putting it on the sidewalk, and fisting her hands on her hips.

"Some friends!" she huffed, and all of a sudden, the enormity of the job ahead, of the infinite variables of unpredictability, of the challenge of working in a foreign country, of being stuck with cantankerous old Dan Minnehan for an entire year, of having no place to live, nowhere to keep her things, no network of friends and support, no - The hand on her shoulder snapped her out of her increasingly chaotic thoughts.

Jamie.

Annabelle was speechless.

"Now before you jump all over me for not ringing - "

Speech was miraculously restored. "I was not going to jump all over you!"

"I saw it in your eyes. C'mere, I had news myself, and I didn't get the chance to tell you."

Annabelle frowned. "News? That you could have told me over the phone?"

"You're very predictable," Jamie grinned. "It's adorable."

I, thought Annabelle - I am not predictable! "Good news?" she asked grudgingly.

"It's very good news."

He waited, patiently. Oh, he wants me to ask him. "So?"

"I got that commission thingie, the council thing, and - "

Annabelle whooped. "That's fantastic!" She jumped on him in a great big hug. "All that money, and, and the prestige, and your painting! In public! Where everybody can see it!"

"Not everyone," he protested, slightly mortified.

"Do you have to make a three year plan? Do they give you the money in a big bunch or do they budget it out over time? Do you have to check in with them, or do they pretty much leave you alone? When do you start? Is it like a school year, do you have to wait until Septem - "

"Annabelle! That's not important at the minute."

"Well, okay." Someone as disorganized as he is, she sniffed, probably found such forward thinking mind-boggling. "Thanks for coming to tell me. If that's what you came here to do."

"I didn't get any sleep last night," he said, and Annabelle's belly did a giddy little boogie as Jamie peered down into her eyes.

"Me, neither," she whispered.

"I don't know if that little kiss on the cheek was good enough for yer Pooka?"

"She wasn't around to tell me." A car horn honked inquiringly; they ignored it.

"I - did you - it was like - " Jamie took a breath - Annabelle took a half a step forward. "Yeah, it was."

"It was kind of - " Jamie gulped.

Annabelle sighed. "Kind of - powerful ... "

Jamie took a half-step forward. "Yeah."

"Yeah."

They stood, staring deep into each other's eyes, waiting; an impatient beep beep beep went unregarded.

"I - "

"Maybe - "

"No, go ahead," Jamie said, grateful.

"No, you," asserted Annabelle.

"No, go on," Jamie insisted.

"No, no," Annabelle persisted.

Jamie took a deep breath and prepared to say the thing he'd prepared all day - Annabelle jumped in. "I told Callie that, if I had the chance, if it still mattered, and if she could still hear me, that if I, um, did get to see you again, if it was meant to happen, that I'd, you know, well, kiss you. I felt really guilty about the whole thing and she really has done a lot for me, whether I like it or not, but I do like it now, and I do like you, too, and, um, if you wouldn't mind, if it didn't bug you or anything, I'd like to ... but if you don't, I totally understand, believe me, the whole thing is ridiculous and out of proportion and silly and - "

"Annabelle," he said, cupping her face with his hands. "Would you ever stop talking for a minute?"

"Oh," she murmured. "Okay."

The moment before ... Annabelle would always remember the moment before that first kiss. The moment before any first kiss, the second before the first touch, was always something special, a moment full of promise, of expectation, of heightened awareness, a moment that had had so many small moments leading up to it, moments that had seemed inconsequential, moments that all came together in that first intake of breath, that first touch of lips, those eyes fluttering shut reluctantly as the gap between the two, the lovers, narrowed and narrowed and disappeared.

Annabelle would always remember what it was like to raise her face to meet Jamie's, the greenness of his eyes as he lowered his gaze to rest on her parted lips, the sights and sounds of the street dulling as their breathing hitched in unison, the way her hands slid around his waist and her fingers linked in the belt loops of his jeans, the way his hands stroked down her face and through her hair, the smell of him, soap and espresso and - charcoal? - and the moment that her eyes finally closed. But even closed, she could see him in her mind's eye, could sense him all around her as every last thing in her consciousness fell away except for the feel of his mouth on hers.

"If that didn't do it, nothing will," he sighed into her hair, as they held the embrace.

"Oh, shit, I'm going to cry," groaned Annabelle. She leaned back. "I don't really cry as much as you probably think I do, I don't, I swear, it's been an emotional time for me and - "

Jamie struck upon an effective way to stop the apologia.

Or not. "It's just that there's been a lot going on, as you know. And then here you are, seeing me off, and it's so sweet, and what if we cross each other over the ocean, if you move to Ireland when I'm coming back, if I come back, I mean, I don't know what I mean, and - "

Jamie kissed her again.

"Oh, damn it." Annabelle buried her face on his shoulder. "I think I might miss you."

"Oh, very nice." Jamie pretended to look put out. He couldn't keep it up, and squeezed her, hard. "For someone who makes a living observing, you're not very observant." He pointed to her bags.

She looked down at the sidewalk. Next to her luggage lay a large - and apparently poorly packed - backpack. "What's that?"

"It's a rucksack." At her narrowed gaze, Jamie shook his head. "You've no sense of humor, I'm thinkin'. I - I'm coming, too."

"To Ireland?" Annabelle stared at him in disbelief.

"Em, yes."

Annabelle stepped back and thought about it. There she went, he thought, away with the fairies, as almost every emotion known to womankind passed across her face. This wasn't as good an idea as he thought, maybe, but how the hell would he have found her if he'd waited? Dublin wasn't large, but it wasn't that small either. He tried to imagine chasing her down via email, and he supposed he could have rung her agents but - "Jamie!" Annabelle laughed, and wound her arms around his waist again. "I'm glad." I, thought Annabelle Walsh, really like kissing Jamie Flynn.

She leaned forward, up on her toes.

"I won't even ask how much your ticket cost," Annabelle said, eventually.

"My brother-in-law works for the airline, so."

"Oh, very nice."

"Not as nice as ... " and he leaned down and whispered in her ear.

Annabelle blushed a furious scarlet, and couldn't imagine what would happen when they actually slept together. She'd probably spontaneously combust.

Beep! Beep! Beeeeeeeeep! "Oh, the car!" Annabelle looked up (up!) at Jamie. "Lorna and MG were supposed to come with me, I don't know, did they go to the deli or something, Maria Grazia was sure I've forgotten something."

Jamie loaded the bags in the trunk, the driver slamming it shut rather temperamentally.

"They saw me and, em, scampered away," Jamie replied, as they slid into the backseat of the Lincoln Town car.

"I love my friends," Annabelle said, and Jamie snuggled her up against him.

Annabelle settled her carry-on bag onto the floor. "I just hope all that was good enough for Callie. She changed the rules on me so many times."

"Practice makes perfect," Jamie grinned and they set about doing some revision.

"C'mere," he said, eventually. "Do you want to live with me in Dollymount?"

"Are you out of your mind or what?" Annabelle shouted without thinking.

"Don't mind the ego," Jamie grumbled.

"On minute you won't even kiss me for a good cause because you think it means we have to - we're going to - arrgh!" Annabelle ran her fingers through her hair. "Oh, sure, why not? If your sloppiness tortures me too much, I can always move out."

"Are you serious?" Jamie was gobsmacked, especially as he hadn't had the idea until two seconds ago.

"Right, okay, yes, what the hell. It's completely crazy, it's way too fast, and it's quite possibly doomed to disaster," Annabelle smiled. "But we'll never know until it's too late."

"Ah, sure, feck it, why not?" And if that kiss, Annabelle thought, isn't good enough for that pooka, then nothing is.

The bag at Annabelle's feet began to rock and wobble all over the floor. She stamped on it quickly, and Jamie stared in disbelief. "Is that? Is it - she - "

"Umm hmmm," Annabelle murmured, and edged the bag closer to her feet. "Just act natural."

"Natural. Right." Jamie stared at the bag, which vibrated a bit, as if shivering with excitement, and then it calmed down. To an unknowing observer, it looked like any normal item of carry-on luggage.

Annabelle reached down and pulled it onto her lap. "Keep quiet," she muttered, "Or there will be hell to pay!"

"Never a dull moment," Jamie quipped, and as the car sped toward JFK airport, he and Annbelle joined hands on the handle of the bag, a bag that, if you knew what to look for, was looking very - very - satisfied with itself.