THE NIGHT OF THE PEACEMAKER

By Andamogirl

Author's notes: end of season 4. The Night of the Diva-episode tag, following my story "The Night of the Dreadful Mistake." Reference to this story.

In The Night of the Diva Ross Martin is still lean after having lost several pounds from his illness following his heart attack. I'm going to give a WWW explanation for his character's loss of weight.

Reference to my stories "The Night of the Outlaw", "The Night of the Deadly Machine", The Night of the Wolves", "The Night of the Disguised Assassin" & "The Night of the Lost Pirate Ship".

References to the following WWW episodes: "The night of the Legion of Death", "The Night of the Turncoat", "The Night of Miguelito's Revenge" (Artie was on his way to Washington) and "The Night of the Winged Terror (1)", "The Night of the Diva", "The Night of Montezuma's Hordes" & "The Night of the Sedgewick Curse."

When I created Dr. Stephen Anderson's character the first actor coming to my mind to play him in my stories was Richard Anderson. I was a fan of "The Six million dollar man" in the 80's and my favorite character was Oscar Goldman. Richard Anderson died on August 31, 2017.

This story is dedicated to him. RIP.

Dr. Loveless: And man can relax. No more worries about power, wealth, or wars. He will have found his Garden of Eden.

Artie: If I remember correctly, there was a snake in that Garden.

Dr. Loveless: Very clever, Mr. Gordon.

Artie: I knew you'd appreciate it.

Dr. Loveless: Ah, there you are.

Artie: No you have us confused with somebody else. We're over there.

Dr. Loveless: Mr. Gordon, you're such a wit.

The Night of the Raven

Many thanks to my beta reader Tripidydoodah.

Warning: blood & injury. Graphic violence. Hanging (nightmare). Nudity & naked cuddling. Implied sex (nothing graphic).

Enjoy the reading!

WWW

TEASER

New Orleans

On the Wanderer,

Artemus Gordon's sleeping compartment

His white and gold uniform gone, hanging in the costumes closet, the decorations gone too and placed back in their box, Artemus Gordon sat down at his dresser and started removing his phony moustache sighing heavily in relief.

That horrible soirée with Rosa Montebello was fortunately over but would remain engraved in his memory forever. It was the first time in his whole life that he hadn't enjoyed the company of a woman and had to invent a credible lie not to spend the night with her, he mused.

He pulled his fake sideburns off too saying, "Goodbye, Colonel Vladislaw of Hungary… I enjoyed playing the character but not the play…" And rubbed his tired face. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and added, "If I am a 'rustic American peasant', she's an Italian… pest!" Hearing a knock at his door Artie turned to his right and looked up at Jim. "Oh! Hey Jim! How was your soirée with Miss Collingwood?" His face grew somber and not giving his partner the time to say something, he added, "Far better than mine, I hope. Feeling that woman against me, kissing me and purring against my neck made me want to run away to the end of the world, and I couldn't." He opened a jar filled with moisturizing cream and he spread it over where he had applied the glue to stick his phony sideburns, moustache and beard. "I usually love having ladies in my arms… and I can say there's one exception now."

Smiling Jim nodded. "I know that. You probably broke the hearts of dozens of young and lovely women when you left Washington to come here… I had a good time. She's a lovely and a very intelligent young woman, Artie. We both enjoyed each other's company, the other guests' company and the Champagne and the buffet. I took her back to her house after the soirée and kissed her goodbye."

More than surprised, Artie let out, "Really? Since when did you kiss a lovely woman and go home right after that? That isn't like Jim the séducteur."

Jim nodded. "I know, but I had only one thing on my mind tonight:, you."

Stunned Artie asked, "Me? What for?"

Leaning against the doorjamb his face suddenly very serious and reflecting obvious concern, Jim crossed his arms on his chest and gave Artie and pointed look. "I should have asked you this before, but when we met again, I was so happy to find you that I forgot to ask you this: what happened to you in Washington, Artemus?"

Caught off guard by the question, Artemus visibly flinched then he resumed what he was doing as if nothing had happened. His expression was blank, but his eyes betrayed his discomfort. "Nothing special happened," he said, his baritone voice neutral.

Doubtful, Jim continued, "Nothing? Look at you Artie! You lost weight and you look like you haven't slept in weeks. You look exactly like the man you were before leaving the Secret Service for a 6 months sabbatical on that ship, Artie. I mean you have lost weight again and you look bone tired again. When you came back from your European tour, you were as healthy as a horse, with even extra padding thanks to good cuisine."

Lowering his eyes to his flat stomach and slender hips automatically, Artie said, "Well, I had to taste all my dishes before proposing them to the crew to see if they were good... I didn't want to be hung high and short to the foremast, and there were good restaurants in all the ports where we stopped. I brought back a lot of recipes, by the way and I'm going to test them all, on Sundays."

Frowning, intrigued, Jim continued, "Then two days after your arrival President Grant asked you to help him with a delicate affair so I had Jeremy Pike assigned to me again and I left for the South. And I was Artie-less, again, for two months. I couldn't go back to Washington to see you I was so busy." Moving closer to Artie, then standing beside his best friend he looked at the other man's reflection in the mirror, "What happened in those two months, before transporting Miss Rosa Montebello here?"

Rubbing dollops of moisturizing cream on his neck, Artie responded, "Nothing special. Working for President Grant is exhausting… That man doesn't sleep. He works around the clock… and as his personal aide, I had to follow his hectic schedule. I didn't have a single free moment for myself. I was exhausted… and of course, I ended up like this…"

Glowering at Artemus, Jim replied, "It's a lie."

Not replying, Artie kept a poker face and continued what he was doing, imperturbable, his now unreadable eyes riveted to his reflection in the mirror.

Not letting it go, Jim continued, "The first part of what you said is correct, I was General Grant's aide de camp and I know the man, but the second part, about you not having a single moment for yourself is a lie because the last time you were in the Capital, after that mission with those faux Conquistadores, you had plenty of free time and enjoyed every minute of it in gallant company. I remember the President telling Frank and me, I quote "I hear there's been a steady influx of lovely young ladies since Artemus has been assigned to us there…" so being in Washington wasn't too hard on you – at that time. I'm sure it didn't change." He paused. "So why do you look again like the emaciated and frail man you were after that six months stay with the Comanche?"

His eyes dropping to his lap Artemus flinched again, but in pain this time as images of his ordeal with his Comanche friends invaded his mind.

Seeing Artie's reaction, Jim said, "I'm sorry, Artie. I didn't want to hurt you." But determined to know the truth, Jim went on. "What happened in Washington the last time you where there? He crossed his arms on his chest, waiting. "I'm waiting and I won't leave this room until I know the truth, and only the truth."

Sighing Artemus closed his eyes, pushing away the atrocities he had witnessed to the recess of his mind, and then looked up apologetically at his partner. "I'm sorry I lied to you. I promise I won't do it again. But I didn't tell you anything because I'm fine now and I didn't want to bother you with something that's over." Then he wiped his hands with a towel.

Now very worried, Jim asked, "You're fine, now? What happened to you?"

The older man sighed again. "Before I transported that exasperating Diva here, I was at the Military Hospital, in a coma, for two months. And that's the truth."

Jim stared down at Artemus incredulously and felt the chill run down his back and croaked, "What?"

Leaning back in his chair Artie explained, "I had a heart attack, Jim, again." His throat closed up suddenly and he rasped, "I almost died. I spent one month and three weeks at the U.S. Military hospital in a deep coma. As I was unable to eat and drink I was given food and fluids via a flexible tube. Dr. Henderson saved my life doing this. It was a brilliant idea. You see, he placed a flexible feeding tube through the abdominal wall and into the stomach. It allowed nutrition and fluids to be put directly into the stomach, bypassing the mouth and esophagus. I 'ate' puréed food essentially, that's why I lost weight and that's why I'm still fatigued. But besides that I'm fine. Dr. Henderson wouldn't have released me otherwise – after a whole week of medical examinations, almost round the clock." He placed his hand on Jim's arm in affection. "I'm sorry, Jim, I should have told you this earlier, after I came back but… I repeat, it was over and didn't want to bother you with that. I'm fine now, but a bit underweight, I know, and I need to sleep a lot too."

Utterly upset, Jim furrowed his brow, but his anger wasn't directed at Artemus. "Why did nobody tell me that? I could have been at your side Artie, like I always do when you're hurt. You were alone." And that thought made his stomach sink.

The older man sighed. "There's an explanation as to why, Jim. Colonel Richmond told you nothing about it because the President ordered him to stay quiet, Jim. I was in good hands and President Grant didn't want you to come to Washington while you had important missions with Jeremy Pike and Frank Harper. He could have telegraphed you, but you wouldn't have been able to focus on the job being far too worried for me – and thus could have put yourself and your partner's life in danger. Your distraction could have gotten you and Jeremy or Frank injured or worse killed. He didn't want that." He smiled and added, "Besides, I wasn't alone, my mom and Harry visited me twice a week and Grant spent a lot of time at my side, as much as he could, you do know that he kind of adopted me during the war… He even installed a temporary office in my room to continue his work while keeping an eye on me." He chuckled. "My hospital room was an annex of the Oval office. Of course, as I was deeply unconscious, I didn't notice anything. I was told later when I was awake."

Jim relaxed. "I understand, but next time I see the President I'll tell him that I'm not happy and that I resent what happened."

Artemus grinned. "I'm sure you will, and sooner that you think, James my boy. I received a telegram from Washington just after I came back here. The President wants to see us both as soon as possible. He received new death threats and as he has a series of meetings scheduled in the coming weeks, he wants us to be at his side, to protect him."

Jim nodded. "There's something that intrigues me too. If you spent weeks on a bed, why are you tanned like you had spent them outside?"

Smiling Artie looked again at his reflection in the mirror of his dresser. "Ah! You noticed that too. Well, Dr. Henderson took me out in the garden of the hospital as often as possible. Lying on a gurney I took sun baths because Henderson thought it would help me to regain some strength. And he was right, thus my tan. He thought too that hearing people talk, and birds sing, and the different noises coming from the street nearby would lead me toward consciousness. But it didn't work."

He stood and stretched like a cat, briefly closing his eyes and moaning.

Curious, Jim asked, "Did the President order you to wake and you woke, like he did after that man Robert tried to strangle you?"

Artie chuckled and said, "No, that didn't work either. But hearing President Grant scold General McGarrett with his thundering voice like he was a bad boy caught with his hand in a jar full of jam, in my room - just did. I woke up and said, "Oh keep quiet, people are trying to sleep here". He grinned. "The looks on Grant and McGarrett's faces were priceless."

Both Jim and Artie burst out laughing. Then Artemus repeated, "I'm sorry I lied to you. I promise I won't do it again."

He looked so contrite that Jim couldn't help but give the other man a hug. He stepped the few inches closer to his partner (again), reached out and enveloped Artie's lean body in his arms in a tight embrace. "I know, buddy, and I forgive you. I'm glad you're back."

He grinned happily then. Artie was okay and back with him.

Grinning happily too, to be back with Jim and that his partner (again) had forgiven him, Artemus wrapped his arms around Jim's strong body and let his chin rest on his shoulder. "Thank you," he said chocolate eyes watery from unshed tears.

WWW

One week later in Senator Greenhouse's residence

Washington D.C.

Ulysses S. Grant moved closer to the buffet hungrily eying the different trays filled with delicious food and glasses of cool, bubbling Champagne – followed like his shadow by James West.

As the President reached out for a canapé, Jim cleared his throat and said, "I wouldn't do that, Sir. They could be poisoned, and the Champagne too."

Grant frowned, upset. "Everyone here is eating those canapés and drinking Champagne, Mr. West. They're not dying from ingested poison or are already dead, poisoned. Look around you."

Imperturbable, Jim said, "They are not dying or dead, yet, Sir. It could be a slow poison. With all respects, Mr. President, let me remind you that two days ago the assassins didn't hesitate to place a bomb in Governor Keller's dining room and lock you in it with the Governor and all his guests. 80 persons in total. Thankfully Artemus managed to defuse it and mass murderer was avoided. They are ready to do anything to kill you, Mr. President, and killing innocent people in the process won't bother them, at all."

The President nodded and sighed. "You're right, I have to be careful." He looked at all the people attending the reception chatting over Champagne, imagining everyone dead, poisoned, and suppressed a shiver. "Speaking about your partner, where is Artemus? I don't see him tonight."

Jim smiled broadly. "But he's here, Sir, undercover to surprise the enemy just in case something happens."

Ulysses S. Grant nodded. "He's undercover? You mean that he's disguised?… Hmmm… Let's see if I can spot him." And the President scrutinized all the men in the room, the musicians from the string quartet playing light music included, because Artemus was a concert-level violinist - trying to recognize his other agent – and failed miserably. He glanced at Jim and said, "Alright, I didn't find him. He's very good, but I already know that. Where is he?"

Chuckling softly Jim pointed at a tall, thin blonde woman wearing a green dress talking to Colonel Morton from the 7th Cavalry, both standing next to one of the French windows. "Actually, Artemus is a she tonight, Sir. He bought a new dress recently – because of his weight loss, the old ones being now too large for him - and he wanted to test it tonight, at the reception." He chuckled softly. "Well, it would seem that that Colonel Morton finds Artie's company very pleasant."

Grant's eyes zeroed in on Morton and then focused on the pretty woman holding his arm. He chuckled too. "He's a remarkable man, you partner, James. He really is a master of disguise. And he's, I mean she's quite lovely indeed."

Observing Artie's gaunt-sculpted face (no mask) covered with perfect make-up to prop up the illusion, Jim nodded. "I know, Sir, and I know too… that I almost lost him three months ago." Looking at Grant, his brow furrowed in disapproval he added, "He told me about what happened to him Sir." There was a slight accusatory tone in his voice.

Staring at his agent the President pursed his lips, frowning slightly in irritation at Jim's inappropriate look and tone in his voice and then he said. "Then he told you why I didn't want you to know about his condition? I did what I thought was right." He then added, in a commanding tone, "And there will be no more discussion about it, Mr. West."

Jim almost stood at attention. "Yes, Sir."

President Grant headed toward the faux-woman wearing the green dress immediately followed by Jim. Stopping beside her, he said, "I haven't had the pleasure of meeting you, Miss…?"

Slowly turning around with a rustling of fabric, Artemus blinked, facing the President, then he quickly recovered from his surprise. He caught Jim smiling and winking at him and knew that he had told Grant who Miss McGordon really was. He made a quick curtsey. "My name is Artemis McGordon," Artemus said with a perfect soprano voice in line with his character. "It's a great pleasure and a great honor to meet you, Mr. President."

Grant smiled broadly and suppressed a chuckle. 'What a man! A man of many talents!' he thought, with great admiration. "Could we have a moment, Miss McGordon? I would like to talk with you, it's important." Glancing at Colonel Morton, he added, trailing off, "Colonel Morton? If you please…?"

The superior officer saluted. "Yes, Sir." Then he left, reluctantly, glancing back at his gorgeous conquest, now framed between the President and his bodyguard.

Grant pulled a cigar out of his inner pocket, bit the tip, put it in his side pocket and waited for Jim to light a match for him.

Smiling, Jim mouthed, "You're amazing, Artie."

Miss McGordon smiled too and said, "Thank you so much Mister… you know how to talk to ladies," playfully using a flirtatious tone.

Once it was done, Grant smiled and said in a low voice, "Behave, Artemus." Then he took a drag from his cigar and exhaled, blowing out a cloud of sweet blue smoke as he observed his other agent from head to feet. Artemus Gordon looked incredible. The other man was wearing a sleek blonde wig with long locks, his face was powered white to hide his tan and his lips were painted in red to match with the varnish coloring his faux nails. He had a double string of pearls around his neck and above, a large feathery ribbon (hiding his Adam's apple) was tied. He had clipped gold earrings, and the long-sleeved (to hide his masculine musculature) pale green silk dress adorned with white lace he wore set off his new figure quite nicely, and as Artemus had round hips, he knew that he was wearing a corset – and of course fake breasts on his flat chest. Black lace gloves camouflaged his male hands. His high-heeled shoes were green too but darker. He took another puff from his cigar and impressed and appreciative, he let out, "Fantastic!" Then, 'playing the game', he asked, "Well, Miss McGordon, are you enjoying the reception?"

Smiling, Artemis nodded. "Yes Mr. President, everything is perfect – so far."

Jim glanced around him seeing if they could speak privately and noticed that almost all the guests had gathered around the musicians as the dancing was about to begin. "Did you notice something Artie?" he asked.

His face strained Artie shook his head. "No, nothing for now – but… but I have a bad feeling. Like the bad feeling I had the last time in Governor Keller's house," he replied with his woman's voice.

Jim frowned, alarmed. "Mr. President, I'd like to suggest you to leave before something bad and potentially deadly happens."

Concerned for his own safety, a frown creased Grant's brow as he nodded. "You're right. I totally trust Mr. Gordon's instincts. They saved me a dozen times during the war and also since I took office."

They were heading toward Senator Greenhouse to say goodbye to the politician when a dozen people suddenly stumbled and slumped to the carpeted floor. Almost all at once.

The room erupted in chaos. Immediately there were screams and panic on the part of the Governor's guests still standing… who crumpled quietly into a heap to the floor, in a grand ensemble a few seconds later. And a heavy silence settled.

Jim knelt beside the Senator lying at the foot of the 'grand escalier' and took his pulse while his partner removed his black gloves, dropping them to the floor. Then Artemus pulled up his dress and petticoat to grab the gun holstered there and strapped to his calf.

"He still has a pulse. He's simply passed out," Jim said. He examined a couple of guests and added, "They're still alive too." He glanced at all the unconscious people and added, "They were poisoned, all of them."

Imitating his partner's actions Artemus said, "Except us, as we didn't eat or drink anything. I'm sure it's the Champagne. It's easy to slip poison in it – a strong sedative as it happens. They were dosed with a powerful sedative, not poisoned, so there's no need for an antidote. They will wake up in a few hours with a pounding headache and nausea. Those who did this wanted us all to be unconscious, especially you Sir. Killing an unconscious man is easier…"

President Grant nodded, "And cowardly. It's a good thing that none of us drank that drug-laced Champagne… or I would be dead by now."

Jim nodded. "Let's go back to the White House, Sir."

Framed by his two agents Grant headed toward the entrance hall and was surprised (like Jim and Artie) to find a blond-haired woman hiding there, behind a chair.

She looked panicked, tears had ruined her makeup and she was trembling with fear. "Oh my God! They're all dead!" she said. "I opened the door and I saw all of them fall on the floor – dead. What happened?" And she started sobbing.

Slowly, gently, Jim reached out, "Take my hand, you're safe. I'm a federal agent." And smiled when she did. He took the women in his arms and said, "Calm yourself, Miss. They're not dead, just unconscious. You can't stay here, Miss, it's not safe, you'd better come with us."

The terrified woman nodded and parted from Jim. "Thank you, Sir. My name is Amelia, Amelia Ferguson." She opened her reticule to pull out a handkerchief. She gently mopped her tears while observing Miss McGordon attentively. Then an interrogative frown barred her forehead and she asked Artie, "Do I know you? Your face seems familiar to me…"

Holding his small gun Artemus carefully observed Miss Ferguson in return, his inner little voice telling him something was wrong with her but couldn't say what. "I don't think so," he said with his soprano's voice. "Without thinking he focused on the lips and noticed a small double v shaped scar marking the skin under the lower lip. He frowned searching his vast memory. He started his musing: he knew that tiny scar, yes, it belonged to… it belonged to… to… 'I know that. It belongs to…'

The young woman smiled. "I'm feeling much better, thank you." She said, putting her handkerchief back in her small handbag.

Furrowing his brow in concentration, Artie was still trying to put a name on that distinctive scar. "Come on, old man, you never forget a face, a name…" he thought with now a cold feeling in his chest. His eyes suddenly opened wide in surprise as he finally found what he was searching for. "Barney Finn! Barney, it's you!" he exclaimed, so stunned that he used his own baritone voice.

More than surprised, faux-Amelia Ferguson froze for a couple of seconds then took a step back. "Artemus? Is that you?" The disguised man said, with his own voice too, recognizing Artie's voice.

Artie's eyes flashed. His expression was full of anger and rage. "I'm going to kill you!" he said to Finn who didn't look surprised but to Jim's stupefaction.

But before that, with his shoulder, he suddenly pushed the President to the side in a protective move, gave his small revolver to his partner and leaped on the faux other woman. They both rolled on the floor and started fighting, exchanging hard punches.

Grabbing Ulysses S. Grant by his arm Jim lead him at top speed to his carriage waiting outside in the street and pushed him inside without any ceremony.

Looking at the Captain commanding the escort he ordered, "Take the President back to the White House as quickly as possible and be on your guards! If anyone attempts to stop the carriage shoot to kill!" then he hurried inside to discover that the two phony women had lost their wigs and were still fighting, dirty, and that his partner wasn't winning, he noticed in concern.

He was ready to intervene when he caught his pointed gaze telling him to stay out of this and he complied. It was a personal matter.

Growling Barney landed a punch to Artemus's midsection and Artie bent over in pain, but didn't take long to recover. He aimed a very nice uppercut at his adversary's jaw with all the force he had but Finn leaned back to avoid the hit. He shoved the agent and another punch came. It landed squarely in the middle of his chest. Artie grunted.

In response Artemus pulled his clenched fist back before driving it straight into the other man's cheekbone. Finn took a few steps backward, regaining his footing. "Not bad, for an old man!"

Suddenly Artemus lunged forward and propelled the weight of his body into Finn's chest, slamming them both into the wall. He slammed his forehead into Finn's, rocking the other man back and the faux Amelia Ferguson crashed against a dresser sending the precious French earthenware vases flying everywhere.

Breathing hard, Artie blocked one punch but missed the second which caught him on the mouth, splitting his lower lip. He stumbled feeling light-headed.

Finn landed his fist in Artemus's stomach and the older agent doubled over and gasped for breath, staggering to the side.

Artie received another hit, and another; each blow harder than the last.

Seeing this, Jim rapidly divested two still unconscious men of their belts, raised Artie's gun and fired to the ceiling. "That's enough!" he shouted before Finn could deliver another blow onto his partner's bruised and bloodied face.

The two men immediately stopped hitting each other wildly and they both took a couple of steps back, glaring at each other.

Breathing raggedly Artie gave his partner a black look. "I could have handled him!" he rasped angrily and then he bared his teeth, red from the blood running into his mouth from where his teeth had cut into the inside of his cheek, at which Finn hearing him snickered.

He surged forward, in full-blown rage, diving for the panting shorter man and tackled him to the floor. He pulled back his fist, ready to drive it down into Finn's cheek. He growled when he felt Jim catch his wrist, closing his strong fingers around it, immobilizing his arm. And, as he was ambidextrous, using his other hand balled into a fist, he punched Finn's nose, twice, hard. He grinned when he when he heard a bone breaking and a loud groan of pain.

Blood started pouring out of Finn's broken nose. Then Artemus started throwing punch after punch. He only stopped when his raw knuckles started to bleed.

Holding the gun, Jim let Artemus pummel Finn's face. His best friend had a personal problem to settle with the other man.

But after that, he would ask Artie what it was, he thought. And after a couple of minutes, he tugged his best friend by the back of his torn dress and pulled him upright. "That's enough, now!" he said, not to protect Finn but his best friend. Artie was breathing hard, his face was reddened by the effort and the knuckles of his left hand were bleeding.

But Artie wasn't finished with Finn. He kicked the shorter man's unprotected groin, twice, anger flashing across his face, hissing something in Indian language under his breath.

Hissing in sympathy Jim then said, "Ouch!"

Feeling the pressure on his right wrist loosening, Artie smiled broadly, feeling a sick satisfaction as the other man curled on himself cradling his most-likely-bruised private parts while crying and whimpering in pain. "Let me go!" he rasped out, and Jim let him go, stepping back. Then he headed toward a chair, his legs wobbling beneath him, and chest heaving, he croaked, "Told you I could handle that…" His nose and mouth bleeding, he collapsed on the chair and wiped the blood with his non-injured hand, smearing it on his cheek. "I told you…" he trailed off. The pain was making him dizzy.

Frowning, upset, Jim said, "I don't think you could handle that. Not in your state buddy." Then he used the belts he was holding and quickly secured Finn's wrists and ankles as the man was grunting in pain.

Lowering his throbbing and ringing head in his aching trembling hands, Artemus realized that Jim was absolutely right. He was clearly out of shape. 'Come on, old man, after a two months coma, and your resultant weight and muscle loss what did you expect? To be able to fight like Jim? It's good to be back with Jim, to be his partner again like before, but you forgot one big detail: you forgot that you're still recovering from your heart attack, and you forgot too that Henderson warned you that you wouldn't have your strength back for several weeks…The next time, and there will be a next time, no doubt of that, let Jim do the fist-fighting. You are unfit to fight for no more than one minute and furthermore, Jim adores it,' He thought. Then, looking up at Jim he said, "Thanks, Jim," his voice weak.

Moving closer, Jim lifted Artemus's face to assess his injuries. "It's a pleasure." He frowned in concern as he noted his best friend had a badly bruised cheek and jaw. His left eyebrow was cut, blood flowing onto his cheek. His nose and lower (split) lip were bleeding too, as well as his left hand. He pulled out his handkerchief from the inner pocket of his jacket and gave it to the older man. "You okay Artie?"

Artemus nodded using the handkerchief to mop the sweat burning his eyes. Then he pressed it to his injured eyebrow. "Ya, I'm okay Jim, I've had worse," he responded. Looking at his ruined dress covered with blood stains he heaved a long distressed sigh. "Oooh… no! Nooo! That was my only dress Jim – at my size I mean. I paid a fortune for it! It was made specially for me by my tailor. It is so damaged I can never repair it."

Jim chuckled. "I'm sorry, Artie, but you saved the President's life twice already, I think he'll be more than happy to buy a new one for you if you ask him." He looked down at Finn trying to get rid of the belts immobilizing his limbs amidst grunts and groans. "I don't know who he is, but you do, Artie, and I'm sure that you don't like him, and that's an understatement, am I wrong?"

Brow furrowed, Artie followed his partner's gaze and looking down at Finn he mustered up the most contemptuous look he could manage. "No, you're right. I hate him. I know that I shouldn't have reacted that way, it's very unprofessional, but I couldn't help it… after what he did to me." He wrapped the handkerchief around his left hand and added, "It's Barney Finn, Jim. He's a traitor to his country," he said, then he spat out blood and saliva mixed, to the floor beside the assassin. "He's a turncoat! Barney was an actor like me before the war. He wasn't a member of my troupe but we were friends. We were both famous for our disguises and transformations. When one of the female members of his troupe was sick, Barney posed as a woman and no one – me included – could see if he was a man or a real woman. He was very good, and still is, that's why I didn't recognize him earlier, but I did recognize the double V scar he has under his lower lip. He forgot to hide it under his make-up, fortunately for us because he had a gun in his reticule."

On that, Jim retrieved the handbag, opened it and found a small gun inside. "You're right. He wanted to kill the President with this. He's a killer." He nodded. "This time the assassins didn't use a bomb but drugged the food and the Champagne and asked Barney here to do the job."

Mopping blood from his face with the reddening handkerchief, Artie added, "It's a good thing that we and the President didn't eat or drink anything, or Grant would be dead by now."

Jim pulled up a chair and sat beside his best friend and very curious, he asked, "What about the battle of Chattanooga?"

Pinching his eyes shut for a few seconds the older man winced. "It's a long story, later Jim… I don't feel too good." His hands were badly shaking. He started to list forward.

His eyes heavy with concern Jim placed his hand on Artie's shoulder. "Is it your heart?" Then he anxiously reached up to his partner's neck to check his pulse.

Raising his head, Artie batted his best friend's hand away clearly irritated. "No, it's not my heart…" Noticing Jim's crestfallen expression he said, "I'm sorry… I shouldn't have done that, I know that you're worried about me and thus in overprotective surrogate brother mode…"

Raising his finger, Jim interrupted the other man. "In 'brother' mode, period. Did you forget that you and I are blood brothers? And that your mother sorta adopted me?"

Smiling, Artemus nodded. "I didn't." He paused and explained, "I suppose I reacted that way because I'm irritated each time something is linked to my heart attack… It's an epidermal reaction I can't by definition, control. I suppose that I'm allergic to anything medical-linked… or approaching following my whole week of almost constant medical examinations. I was fed up with that."

Trying to soothe Artemus, Jim let out, "A least the nurses were lovely…?"

Dizzy, Artemus shook his head and regretted it as his headache had worked its way to a full blown migraine. He

sighed. "I didn't see a single nurse for a whole week, I just met them when I was ready to leave the hospital. They were so disappointed not to have taken care of me, and I also not to have been pampered by them that I kissed them all – twice. Henderson banned them from my room. He wanted me to rest, not to woo his whole female staff." He grimaced in pain again. "It's not my heart… No, it's just a massive, pounding migraine; he punched me on my head… It's nothing serious but I'm still seeing stars everywhere." He winced and massaged his aching forehead. "I could use one of my painkillers but I'll live, don't worry."

Suddenly a dozen armed soldiers entered the ball room. The officer moved to the two agents and saluted. "I'm Lieutenant Bennett. Captain Morris safely escorted the President to the White House, Sirs." He said. "He sent me here with my men to help you."

Immediately Jim stood and pointed at Finn lying on the floor who was tugging at the restraints. "Bring that man to the Secret Service headquarters for questioning. He tried to kill the President."

Bennett snapped his fingers. "Yes, Sir! Sergeant! Take six men and escort that man to the Secret Service headquarters. Guard him with your life!"

The sergeant saluted. "Yes Sir."

Two soldiers roughly pulled Finn upright and the assassin gave Artie a murderous look and, his face twisting, he snarled, "Goddamn you, Artemus! You won't be able to protect Grant next time. He will die. We'll see to that. And then you will die too, with him. My friends will kill you Artemus, slowly, painfully."

Finn hissed insults to them through clenched teeth two soldiers dragged him outside, the sergeant and four other soldiers followed them.

Lieutenant Bennett glanced around him. "We're going to take care of all the people here, Sirs. You should go to see a doctor."

Helping Artie to stand and supporting him as his partner was swaying on his feet, Jim nodded. "Good idea. Artie, let's go to see your favorite doctor."

Staggering, because everything had started spinning, Artie grimaced. "I'm so very thrilled," he gritted through his teeth.

He heaved a long sigh, utterly exhausted.

Tbc.