"Leprechaun Valley," Shamus replied simply, not offering any more information than that.
"Hey, Miss. I think there's a station a few miles from here. Keep going?" the cabbie asked from the front seat.
"Oh yes, please," Suzanne replied then focused her attention back on Shamus, asking: "Where exactly is Leprechaun Valley?" She had no idea. Never realized such a place existed, let alone being a location in the greater Boston area. Perhaps it was an area people had just nicknamed Leprechaun Valley? Why, she had no idea, but perhaps.
"In the mystical dimension," Shamus responded, straight-faced and in a tone that made her believe he was quite serious.
Suzanne paused for a moment, then laughed lightly. She slapped his knee playfully. "No seriously. I honestly have no idea where that is."
"The mystical dimension. All mystical beings live in that dimension, but most are able to travel to the human realm whenever it is necessary." Shamus gave her a broad smile, but again the look in his eyes revealed he was quite serious.
Suzanne quit laughing and looked at him, puzzled. She deducted that either he simply didn't want her to know where he lived, had terrible judgment about when to end a joke, or perhaps needed to see a doctor. The special kind. She shuffled in her seat an inch or so away from him. Until she cleared up which of the three options he was, she wanted to keep her distance.
She had a close friend who worked in a psychiatric facility and had heard many tales of how people who lived in alternate realities could snap for no reason. She wasn't about to be in the line of fire if that moment were to come for Shamus while she was sitting next to him in a Boston's Finest cab.
But he didn't look crazy. Though did crazy people usually look the part? Some did, she supposed; take Bart who enjoyed singing to the pigeons in his boxers, in the center of the Boston Commons. His hair matted and sticking straight up, as if he had just been electrocuted. He certainly looked crazy, even to the gleam in his eyes as he sang whatever rap song came into his mind. Bart preferred Eminem, but she'd heard him giving his version of DMX songs as well, from time to time.
Shamus didn't have the gleam in his eyes that Bart had. His face, his tone of voice, all pointed to a person who was in touch with reality. Her best guess was that he simply didn't know when to end a joke. Or deliver one for that matter.
Her eyes scanned him from those horribly absurd shoes right up to his sexy dark brown eyes. Considering how amazingly sexy the man was, in combination with the fact that he had helped her twice now in the course of a week, she supposed she should cut him a break when it came to the poor comic material and delivery.
Finally deciding that's what it was, Suzanne allowed herself to relax once more in the seat beside him. She'd drop it for now, it wasn't really relevant at the present time anyhow, she decided as the cab began to pull into another service station, which included several bays for car repairs, one currently sitting open.
As the car pulled to a halt in front of the station door, Shamus leaned over the seat and passed several crisp bills to the cab driver. "That should about cover it," he said, opening the car door to exit.
Suzanne heard the cabbie mutter thanks as she scooted across the seat and exited the same door as Shamus had. She noticed a colourful spark emit from her palm as he took her hand to assist her out of the car. The spark lasted mere seconds but she was certain it was there, just as it had been a couple of times before.
Shamus closed the door behind her and ushered her into the service station, his hand resting protectively on the small of her back. His eyes refused to meet her questioning ones as they walked. Perhaps I'm the crazy one? Seeing sparks of rainbows? Just thinking the thought made her feel foolish.
However, once they were in the station and he finally met her gaze, she knew he had felt and seen it, just as well as she had. He didn't look surprised. Not surprised like she did; his expression was more one of puzzlement than anything, if Suzanne had to narrow down the look to one emotion.
Shamus made an attempt to direct her to the front counter where a twenty-something pink-haired girl stood waiting for them, but she refused to budge from her spot. "Did you see that, when our hands touched?"
He laughed. "Like I said the other day, it must be our magical connection."
Suzanne watched him for a moment; watched him as he shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He was joking, had to be joking, but why would he try to make a joke of something that was quite real? He knew what it was, she was sure of it. Why the secrecy?
Suzanne positioned herself between Shamus and the reception desk, her back turned to the girl, shielding what she was about to do. "Look," she demanded of him as she reached out and grabbed his hands in hers bringing them, flesh on flesh, up to chest level, but still concealed from prying eyes.
Shamus watched, as she watched. It lasted just mere seconds, but it was there without a doubt. She was certain of that now. As their bare hands wrapped around each other a spark that could almost be described as a shimmer of multi-coloured light emerged from the spots where their bare flesh touched. This time however, the spark was more intense, sending a shock wave of pleasure through her, which ended in a pulsating between her legs. Suzanne gasped and stepped away, looking up into his eyes. Surely he had felt that, seen that!
"Let's deal with your car now. Then we can discuss that." Shamus gave her a reassuring smile, brushed past her and headed for the front counter to the pink-haired girl wearing a blue windbreaker with the name “Tony's Repairs” embroidered on it, in white stitching.
Suzanne followed behind Shamus, deep in thought. It didn't occur to her at the time to inquire as to how Shamus was able to tell the girl the location of the vehicle. Her mind was spinning. What was he hiding from her? What were those colours she kept seeing?
Once he was done speaking with the girl behind the counter Shamus spun back around to face her. "It just occurred to me that I have an appointment I have to make it to," he said, giving her a wry grin. "I'm already late actually." He nodded back to the girl behind the counter. "It's all taken care of. I'll be seeing you soon Suzanne." He brushed past her, walking at a brisk pace.
What is going on? she thought but what came out of her mouth was, "Shamus wait!"
He didn't. Instead he walked out of the front door and disappeared around the corner of the building.
Moving as quickly as her aching feet would allow and with a broken heel, she chased after him and out into the parking lot. She scanned the lot and beyond. He was gone. As if he had disappeared into thin air.
"He only had a few seconds’ head start," she muttered to herself, placing her hands on her hips in frustration.
Annoyed, she hobbled back into the service station, and waited for them to bring her car in for the repair.
Chapter 3
As Shamus followed the narrow trail through the forest behind his home, as he often did when he needed to think, his thoughts focused on Suzanne. He felt bad for leaving her like he had. But he needed to. Needed to get out of there, before she asked more questions he wasn't sure he was ready to answer. At least, not yet.
He had felt the intensity of the touch they had shared earlier that day, just as she had. There was a stirring in his groin just thinking about it. It wasn't supposed to happen with a human. The spark. It should have happened with a faerie or a nymph or some other mystical being, but not a human. During their first meeting he assumed, or hoped, that the spark was a simple fluke. But it was confirmed for him now. It was real and meant they were destined for each other.
A leprechaun and a human, who'd have thought that? He mulled over the idea as he continued to walk. The trail he was following led to a river. There was nothing special or enchanted about the river. It was simply a place that he found soothing. The trickling sound as the water moved downstream put him at ease and allowed him to think clearly.
He came to the edge of the water and sat down on the bank, his back against a large willow tree that, over the decade
s, had grown to reach up and over the width of the water. Shamus closed his eyes and allowed the soothing sounds of nature to put his racing mind to rest.
"Could you be using some company lad?" asked a familiar male voice behind him.
Shamus looked up, covering his eyes from the glare of the sun, to see his old friend Cass. "Take a seat friend," he replied, motioning to the grass next to him.
Cass was nearly as tall as Shamus, standing at close to six feet, and lean – too lean in Shamus's opinion. He had found himself thinking more than once that perhaps Cass should spend less time with the liquor and more time having a decent meal. Alas, Cass had about a century on him in years so Shamus was in no position to judge an elder leprechaun's fondness of the drink.
"You settled up with the charge I see," Cass commented as he seated himself next to Shamus.
"Yes and no."
Cass's brow furrowed as he considered the answer. "What do you mean by that?"
"The luck I sent to her last week didn't seem to stick, so I had to visit her a second time. Today as it so happens."
"It happens," Cass replied with a shrug.
"When I touched her, the connection triggered the spark." Shamus looked out into the water and heaved a loud sigh. He watched a moment as the sunlight danced over the small waves, causing shimmers of light to skim the surface of the river.
"Come again?"
"The spark. I received it when our skin touched," he made it a point to accent the so Cass would know the gravity of the situation.
Cass shook his head. "It's not possible. We cannot share the spark with a human. It's unheard of. You must have been mistaken."
"The first time I assumed it was a mistake, perhaps an odd occurrence that would never happen again. But it did. Earlier today." Shamus put a hand on his friend’s shoulder and looked into his disbelieving brown eyes. "Not only did I see it, but I felt it."
Cass ran a hand through his thick black hair, exhaling a loud puff of breath between his teeth. "I've never heard tell of such a thing." He reached into the inside pocket of his green tweed vest and pulled out a gold flask, twisted the top off and took a hearty swig, before placing the flask into Shamus's hand. "Here. ’Twill help clear your mind."
Shamus accepted, bringing the flask to his lips and taking an equally hearty swig himself. The liquid burned its way down his throat. "What is that stuff Cass?"
Cass chuckled, taking the flask back and having another swig before replacing the cap. "My own secret recipe."
"Well your secret is safe with me. There's no way I would subject myself or any other living being to that stuff." Shamus grimaced; the burning in his throat seemed to linger. Never trust a leprechaun with a golden flask of alcohol, Shamus thought, amused.
"So about this spark." Cass rubbed his chin for a moment in contemplation. "You say you felt the... well the jolt?"
Shamus threw back his head and laughed. "Yes. I saw the rainbow spark and I felt the jolt. She did as well. I could see it in her eyes. She kept asking about it. If I knew what it was."
"Hmmm. Interesting. You know I had a little fun with a human once, about a century or so ago."
Shamus turned his eyes away from the stream to look at his buddy, a questioning eyebrow raised. "You did...with a human?"
"Her name was Victoria. Beautiful female, for a human. I was the one that got lucky with that charge," he nudged Shamus in the ribs with his elbow, giving him a wink. "If you get what I'm saying."
Shamus laughed once more. "I have an idea, yes."
"Nothing wrong with getting it out of your system, Shamus. Most of us have a liking for a human from time to time. Is she sweet on the eye?"
Shamus let his mind wander to Suzanne for a moment as he contemplated the question. She was quite beautiful, though maybe not in the way humans judge women in their society. The humans’ idea of beauty seemed distorted to him. Women were expected to be so thin that you could barely see an ounce of fat on their body. Skinny to the point they appeared almost sickly to him.
Suzanne looked healthy, radiant, with a nice curvy hourglass-type figure. Her straight shoulder-length chestnut brown hair framed her heart-shaped face, with those large bright blue eyes. She was indeed, as Cass would put it, sweet on the eye.
"But the spark, Cass."
The older leprechaun stood and brushed the dirt from his black trousers. "It's useless to pursue a human for anything other than our duties or for a little fun. Mortals cannot travel to the mystical realm and if you were to stay there you'd age as a mortal would. Eventually you'd die of old age Shamus, or worse," Cass's dark eyes caught Shamus's with a stern stare. "You already know this. Spark or no spark, don't pursue it. Heed my warning. Do the job you were meant to do; put her back on her path and walk away."
Shamus nodded, directing his eyes back to look out at the flowing water beside him. He heard Cass's footsteps walk away from him but kept his attention focused on the shimmering light skipping over the water. Cass was right. He needed to simply walk away. Finish the job. It just didn't feel right to walk away. If his duty was to use luck to help correct a human's life and send them back on the right path to their destiny, then how could he ignore the fact he was supposed to be part of that destiny?
****
Suzanne drummed her fingernails on the top of her desk. It was Monday morning and she had spent the weekend trying to figure out the mystery surrounding the sexy, mysterious Shamus. After they had arrived at the service station he had exited in such a hurry, she hadn't had a chance to even thank him, or more importantly get to the bottom of the “mystical connection” idea he had jokingly referred to them having.
She looked up from her desk to the call tracker on the center of the call center's white ceiling. Eighty-six flashed in bright red numbers signalling there were eighty-six unhappy customers waiting to be served. She was so glad that she only had thirty minutes left before quitting time.
Suzanne had had the worst of luck when it came to callers today. It seemed as though each and every one of them was nastier than the last. She had gotten to the point where she didn't know if she had the courage to push the active button and take another call today. Normally she could take the anger, threats, degrading treatment she received from the callers, but not today. Her head was pounding so hard it felt like it was about to split in two.
Taking a deep breath, her finger hovered over the active button. Just as she was in the process of pressing it someone appeared behind her, tapping her on the shoulder. Quickly, Suzanne jerked her hand back away from the dreaded button and let out a sigh of relief. Spinning her chair around, she came face to face with Gretchen, her supervisor.
Gretchen looked as she usually did, formal and businesslike in a Sears pant suit and her hair held tightly in a bun at the back of her head. Suzanne guessed she was somewhere in her fifties, but she always thought that if Gretchen didn't adopt such a severe look, then perhaps she'd look much younger.
"I need to see you in my office ASAP," Gretchen said, turning on her heel and marching back to her corner office on the other side of the room, not bothering to wait for Suzanne.
Switching her telephone's status from personal to meeting Suzanne removed the headset from her ears and shook her hair loose of the ponytail she had it in. Each time she took the headset off she felt like she was being freed. For the majority of nine hours a day, five days, sometimes six days a week she was a prisoner of Comm-Itel Com, tethered to a telephone via a four-foot cord from the headset making her feel like a prisoner. For those hours she was told when to eat, when to use the washroom and when she could finally leave at the end of the day. If that wasn't like prison she didn't know what was.
Again, she found herself thinking she needed a new job. I always wanted to try being a waitress, she mused as she made her way to Gretchen's office, or perhaps a cook in a kitchen. With the economy as it was currently, even those jobs were limited in numbers. At least for the time being, the people of Boston were grateful for the work the
y had. As she made her way past her co-workers’ desks heading towards her destination, she felt a hint of guilt for hating a job many applied and were rejected for each day.
"Close the door Suzanne," Gretchen ordered as Suzanne made her way across the threshold and into her office.
Nodding she did as she was asked and took a seat at the other side of Gretchen's desk, which had a number of papers littering it, presumably for her to sign off on. Suzanne looked down at the papers then up at Gretchen.
Her supervisor got straight to the gist of it right away.
"We're bringing each of the employees in one by one about this. We're hoping to keep this hush-hush so your discretion until all are informed would be appreciated," Gretchen began. "As of the end of next week all calls are going to be outsourced to India and the center will be closing."
Suzanne looked at her boss with a mixture of emotions running through her. Fear, surprise, relief, even happiness. She had no idea what she was going to do once she finished here, it was horrible luck, but at the same time maybe she needed to be forced to leave in order to find something new. Something better.
Her boss continued to drone on about the company, its reasons and so forth but she didn't care. She just wanted to sign the forms and leave for the day. She looked up at the clock on her boss's wall. Five minutes until quitting time.
Gretchen finally finished her rehearsed speech, which Suzanne assumed had been given dozens of times that day and allowed Suzanne to sign the necessary papers and leave.
Everything happens for a reason Suzanne, she told herself as she packed up her belongings and exited the Comm-Intel Com building. She needed time to think and she knew just the place to do it.
Chapter 4
Shamus had been watching Suzanne through the pool of molten gold for the majority of the weekend. Her luck held out for Friday, but come Saturday it went back to being a slew of pure bad luck for the woman. After he had watched as she was being told she was to be laid off he knew he had to find her once again and try to correct this luck problem once and for all. The pot was not allowing him to forget he hadn't remedied her situation, as with each day thoughts of her needing him invaded his mind, while the spark that had been ignited continued to affect his body. It was a losing battle for him. If he ever wanted peace, then he'd have to deal with the situation.
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