THE NIGHT OF THE GRAND OLD LADY

By Andamogirl

Author's note: lots of references to the first TV movie called "Wild Wild West Revisited" and to the following WWW episodes, "The Night of the Double-Edged Knife" and "The Night of the Flying Pie Plate" & "The Night of the Man-Eating House" & "The Night of Montezuma's Hordes".

References to my story called "The Night of the Cheyenne called White Eagle". You don't need to have read it to understand the story though.

Artie: (in South Sea garb) These things are ridiculous.

Jim: Artie, it's very colorful.

Artie: Blue, that's the color, blue! I'll die of pneumonia!

Jim: If you're going to die, blue's a lovely color.

The Night of the Two-legged Buffalo

James: Of course, much of the credit goes to the grand old lady of the Secret Service-Artemis Gordon.

Artemus: You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?

James: No, I have no intention of it.

"The Night of the Freebooters".

Artie: What did you expect? The major powers of the world to roll over and play dead? All because of threats from some little pipsqueak?

Michelito: Pipsqueak?! Pipsqueak?! Which one of them called me a pipsqueak?

Artie: All of them.

Michelito: Ah. I have their monarchs and heads of states in custody, I can wipe out any city with a wave of my hand. Does that sound like the work of a pipsqueak?

Artie: Well, it sounds like the work of a sort of powerful pipsqueak, yeah.

The Wild Wild West Revisited.

WWW

TEASER

Washington DC railroad yard, sidetrack

The Wanderer, August 8, 1885

In the evening

Standing on each side of the table covered with empty dishes and plates, both James West and Artemus Gordon raised their glasses of Champagne.

The older man took a sip and said, "Another mission accomplished, Jim. Correction, one 'last' mission accomplished. We're still alive and intact, and President Cleveland is safely back in the White House – and I'm sure he is the real one, despite your suspicion – and Tsar Nicholas of Russia, Queen Victoria and King Alphonso of Spain are heading home as I speak." He took another sip of the sparkling wine and added, "That was fun, wasn't it? Just like old times. But it was our last assignment – ever."

Smiling Jim nodded. "Amen! And let me compliment you on this wonderful supper, Artie. All the courses were delicious. You haven't lost your touch."

Liking the compliment Artemus lightly bowed his head. "Thank you, it was a pleasure as always." Then he took a new sip and continued, "I'll leave for Chicago tomorrow morning, after breakfast, on board a commercial train, uncomfortable and crowded…" He glanced around him at the sparsely furnished parlor car. "I'm going to miss our old Wanderer again… even if it's the shadow of the luxurious interior we had." He paused feeling nostalgic already and looking at Jim again, he said. "Chicago where the lovely Penelope will join me before she leaves for England, in a week. There's a new theatre in Chicago called 'The Excelsior' and the director is a friend of mine. He promised me I would be the new lead actor for his resident troupe." He smiled broadly. "Penelope is going to stay with me there, during her leave. We need to get to know each other better."

Taking his place back on his chair, Jim said, "Yes that woman is lovely, Artie, and she's dangerous, intelligent and witty…"

Nodding Artie added, "Yes, you're right and she's so attractive with a gun… by the way, I still have her gun. I'll give it to her back as well as her lovely reticule"

Jim took a new sip of Champagne and said, "I think Penelope is absolutely perfect for you! But…"

Surprised, Artie asked, "But what?"

Eyes twinkling with playfulness Jim said, "But Penelope is a lot younger than you, Artemus. You could be her father! Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!"

Rolling his eyes, Artie replied, "Says the man who is married to a beautiful - young - Mexican woman who's the mother of his two children. She doesn't care about that, and I'm pleased to see that a woman can still be attracted to me. That means I don't look sagging, old and decrepit."

Still in playful mode, Jim nodded and then took a sip of Champagne. "Unless she loves men who look sagging, old and decrepit – who knows?" Then he chuckled as Artie gave him a black look. "I was kidding. You're still handsome, Artie, and me too. We still both attract women. For example Carmelita Loveless was attracted a lot to me... She wanted to come with me, you know? But I said no."

Sitting down on his chair Artie said. "Of course you did, you're married."

Circling the rim of his glass with one fingertip, Jim added, "Yes of course, but she didn't know that, I never told her, so I lied to her. I told her I didn't trust her and that I didn't want to end up stabbed in the back. She's a Loveless after all - and I am faithful to Juanita."

Looking at his best friend sternly, Artie said, "I hope so, because you were attracted to her too! I watched you kiss her on that railroad platform and it wasn't the usual goodbye kiss – and it's the least we can say."

Jim smiled. "The second kiss was a goodbye kiss." He raised his glass of bubbling French wine again and then said, "A toast! To beautiful women and to retirement!"

Smiling, Artie said, "Cheers!"

The two men touched their glasses together, the glass ringing - and at the same time the door of the Wanderer opened, revealing the head of the Secret Service.

Robert T. Malone entered, closed the door behind him, smiled like a crocodile eyeing a zebra drinking by the river and said, "I hope you're not celebrating your second retirement?"

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Jim said, "Yes we are. Why? Do you want us to do another assignment? Our answer is no, Skinny. We won't do another assignment for you. You can go back to your office and forget that we exist."

More aggressive because he was more emotional than Jim, Artie glared at Malone and said, "Never again! Ever! Save your breath, Skinny. We're not interested. We both retired – again. In a few hours Jim will be on his way back to Tecate and me to Chicago. Go away! We don't want to see you anymore."

Unfazed Malone joined the two men and took his place on the comfortable armchair. "Actually, I'm not here to propose another assignment to you – yet, but to give you a direct order."

The two ex-agents exchanged a surprised look which turned to a worried one a second later, and settled their empty glasses on the red tablecloth.

Then looking straight at Malone they both said, in chorus, "Yet? A direct order? What direct order?" and they both anxiously waited for the rest of the story.

Director Malone explained, "After your last exploit, the President was so pleased and so impressed that he asked me to reinstate you as soon as possible in the Secret Service, because he needs men like you at his side, protecting him and the country – and, of course I did it."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Artie said, "No, you didn't."

Malone continued, "Yes I did. Exceptional agents like you are, are very rare, gentlemen. Consider this mission with Loveless Jr. as a trial period to see if you were able to work for the Secret Service again, and the test was conclusive. Frankly I didn't think that 'old, sagging retirees…."

Furrowing his brow, offended, Artie let out, "Old?"

Copying his best friend, offended too Jim said, "Sagging?" Then in response he straightened himself up and lifted his chest.

Malone continued, "I didn't think that you would be able to do what you did. But you proved me wrong. And I'm happy because I need people like you working for me. Jim, Artemus, you're hired! Since this morning, at exactly 0800, you are now officially reinstated as special agents of the US Secret Service gentlemen, and that order is simple, I order you to accept your new job, that's all."

Glaring at Malone Artie planted his fists on his hips. "No way! We're simple citizens, retired, re-ti-red! And no one, not you, not even the President of the United States can force us to do anything."

Malone frowned. "If you don't accept that order, as you are both reserve officers, I will have you send you to prison for insubordination. Then, you will both be transferred to a fort, you at the border with Canada, Mr. West, far away from your partner and away from your family in Mexico and you – as I know that you' love' heat and dust, at the border with Mexico, Mr. Gordon, where you will patrol in the desert between boulders, cacti and rattle snakes… away from your best friend."

Furious, red-faced, Artie let out, "That's… that's unacceptable! We refuse!"

Director Malone looked at Jim waiting in order to know if he agreed with Artemus's response, "Do you agree with your partner Jim?" He asked.

Glancing at Artie Jim replied, "I do." And shared a smile with his best friend. Then he looked back at Malone and added, "You're bluffing."

Malone nodded. " I never bluff. As you wish. Then you will both face the consequences of that regrettable decision. You leave me no other choice."

The head of the Secret Service stood, padded toward the door and opened it, revealing two armed soldiers framing a young cavalry Lieutenant waiting on the rear platform of the train. Looking at Jim and Artie he said, "I knew that you would say that so I came with an escort – for you. Lieutenant Jones, please escort Major West and Major Gordon to Fort Grant and put them in the brig – until I decide to transfer them to their new posts. It could take weeks, months even… I haven't decided, yet. And keep them separated, place them each in a cell. And of course you will watch them closely, they both escaped from prison many times and I don't want them to do that again."

Lieutenant Jones entered the parlor car, followed by the two soldiers and pulled out his gun from his holster. "You can count on me, Sir." Without looking at his man he ordered, "Hartley, give me the handcuffs!" And the blond soldier standing behind him took two pairs of handcuffs from the pocket of his long dark blue coat. He gave them to his officer. "Here Sir."

Sending a panicked look to Jim Artie said, "He's not bluffing Jim!" Then, looking at Malone, he raised his hand and added, "Wait a minute! I don't want to go in prison and I don't want to end up on patrol in the Sonoran desert." He pointed at Jim. "He's the one going in the brig, I'm staying here. I hate to sleep on a bunk, I hate the so-called food that is served in a fort, I hate the desert and the heat, I hate to spend hours on horseback sweating, and I'm too old for all that!" He sighed in resignation. "I accept being an agent of the US Secret Service again Skinny – but it's against my will."

Frowning Jim crossed his arms over his chest, an expression of reprobation on his face. "I'm disappointed in you, Artie. Where is your sense of adventure? It could have been fun!"

Sitting on a chair Artemus replied, "I'm 15 years older than you, Jim, that's explanation enough. Think about your family in Mexico. Do you really want to spend weeks or months in prison and be posted at the border with Canada? And see your wife and your children only during short leaves?" He pointed at the Director of the USSS and added, "Because Skinny here is dead-serious."

Jim glared at Skinny Malone. "Alright Skinny, you win. I accept that order – but I'm not happy! And like Artie said, it's against my will."

Robert 'Skinny' Malone nodded, grinning in victory. "Dulynoted." He turned toward the Cavalry Lieutenant and then said, "Thank you Lieutenant but your presence here is not necessary anymore, you and your men can return to Fort Grant."

The officer saluted, "Yes, Sir."

Once the officer and the soldiers were gone, Artemus moved in front of the Director of the Secret Service and said, "Now we have agreed to work for the Secret Service again, 'Director Malone', Jim and I will need a lot of things. First, we don't want to live and travel throughout the country in an empty train with no comfort. We need our old Wanderer back, meaning the she needs to be completely refurbished, and I will need a lot of things too, like…"

Malone raised a hand, interrupting Artie. "Make a list, give it to me and you'll have anything you want. And that old train will be refurbished like it was before she was decommissioned, I promise you. The President gave me carte blanche." He smiled in victory. "Welcome back to the Secret Service!" He headed toward the door and then added, "You will receive your first assignment soon. Good day gentlemen."

Once the door was closed, Artie stood and moved toward the dresser where a bottle of whiskey and two glasses were sitting. He quoted, "Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more…" He paused and shook his head in defeat. "And I must say goodbye to my new acting career…" He sighed. "I need something stronger than Champagne." Then he poured himself a glass of liquor, downed it in one gulp and said, "I need to send a message to the British embassy. I have to tell Penelope what happened, and she's not going to be happy that I have to cancel our stay to Chicago," he said.

WWW

Two days later,

In the morning

The parlor car was full of boxes, crates and trunks of various sizes with many colored rolls of cloth piled on the two couches when Jim entered the newly refurbished room.

Surprised to see all these stacks of material from the ground to the ceiling, he lifted an eyebrow. "Artie? You here buddy?" he called.

He spotted a raised hand waving and the burgundy wrist of Artie's thick robe above a pile of crates. "I'm over here Jim. Be careful will you? Some of the things stored here are very fragile. You should be able to sneak through," Artemus said.

Looking around him – pleased to see that the Wanderer looked like the 'old time' one - Jim cautiously headed toward his partner and joined him.

Standing beside Artemus, Jim saw that his best friend was examining his brand new sewing machine. Artie's eyes were twinkling with excitement, he noticed and he chuckled softly.

Caressing the device with his fingertips, the older man said, "It's the latest model released. Look at it Jim! It's a thing of beauty, don't you think? With that wonderful machine I'm going to be able to create all the costumes I need for my disguises faster and better than I did before." He gestured to the cloth rolls piled on the couches nearby and he continued ecstatically. "And I have everything I need. All types of fabric, of any color. I've got pelts too and hats and wigs and lots of make up; and for my future dresses – because I only got two dresses, the green one and the red one. I've got shining ribbons, exotic feathers, precious laces, all different kind of ornamented buttons, and tights, and so on. Well eve-ry-thing! Oh! And my lab was completely transformed to be more efficient and refurbished too. I have got a brand new microscope, the best that exists, and new chemicals sets, that's great" Noticing that his partner had a derisive smile on his lips, he frowned feeling a little hurt noticing that Jim wasn't sharing his enthusiasm. "What?"

Jim chuckled. "You look like a kid in a toys store after his rich parents bought it for his birthday." He patted Artie's shoulder soothingly. "I know that you and I are back in the Secret Service again and that you need what's necessary for our future missions, but did you need all that stuff? You can do wonders with almost nothing at your disposal. Remember that saloon-y dress you made with that tablecloth?"

Frowning in worry Artie asked, "You aren't going senile are you? Don't you remember? I didn't make that saloon-y dress with the table cloth, because it's on the table! I bought everything, the corset, the tights, the dress, the wig, the boa, the shoes – in a clothing and beauty store before going to that saloon in Wagon Gap. I had barely enough time to prepare myself before going there, waiting for you."

Jim ignored the question, and said, "I love the blond wig, and by the way I forgot to tell you that you looked lovely in that dress."

Frowning, a bit vexed that his partner had waited so long to tell him this, Artemus huffed. "Nadia told me that I looked lovely in a dress before you did."

Jim nodded. "I know that, I was there. I didn't tell you that before, because you were wearing that green dress I found positively ugly – but you looked lovely in the red one. I loved the white and red feathers boa too… and the black, semi-transparent tights. If you hadn't beckoned me with a fan to tell me that it was you, sitting at this table among the saloon girls, I would have asked you to have a drink with me …"

Smiling with pleasure Artie said, "Thank you, Jim, I appreciate the compliment – even if it's an awful lie. Instead of me, you would have chosen a lovely, young girl; not an old one hiding her wrinkles behind a lot of makeup." He gestured to the crates and trunks surrounding Jim and him. "I gave a long list to Skinny Malone and got everything, and the President offered all this to thank us, like boxes of finest liquors and finest cigars and the latest guns and rifles and enough ammunition to hold a siege for years. They're piled over there next to the door of the galley, I think. But I'm sure you're going to find them."

Now excited, Jim opened one of the wooden boxes settled behind Artie and inside found a collection of Colt revolvers and Smith a Wesson models. He took out a brand new .41 Colt, and smiled. "Ah! Look at this! That's a thing of beauty, Artie."

Looking at his shiny sewing machine again Artemus said, "For you perhaps. You know me, I don't like violence. I use it only in case of extreme necessity." He frowned and asked, "Where were you this morning? You left at dawn before I got up."

Sidestepping the question, Jim said, "You get up too late, Artemus, you've always gotten up too late. Men of action always get up early. How did you do rehearsals with a performance at noon when waking up in the middle of the morning?"

Unfazed Artie replied, "Are you trying to annoy me so that I forget my question? It won't work, you know. And I am a man of action too, I think I have amply demonstrated it during all these years at your side. And I need more sleep than you, that's all; no one has the same metabolism. Some people need more sleep than others. For example I need 8 hours of sleep and you only five. And I didn't need to do rehearsals because I've known all the Shakespeare plays by heart for years. Now tell me what did you do Jim? What are you hiding?" He asked, starting to get a little suspicious.

Embarrassed Jim responded, "I visited President Grant's grave… I wanted to talk to him, tell him that we came out of retirement and returned to active duty, and lots of other things… like my marriage, my children, my simple life at my ranch in Tecate…"

Furious, Artie said, "What? You went there without me? We always went to see him 'together' there since we told him goodbye 'together' on his deathbed."

Jim sighed. "I knew that you would be mad at me."

Crossing his arms angrily over his chest, Artie replied, "You're damn right, I'm mad at you! You should have told me about it! I would have come with you!"

Feeling bad, Jim said, "I had the idea this morning after I woke up. I dreamed about the President last night you know? He was here, sitting on a stool beside my bed, smoking his cigar, listening to me… I told him what happened with Loveless Jr. Then after being silent for a long time, he told me that we would see each other again soon, and then he vanished…. And I woke up. What's strange, is that all the time he was there, I was cold, no freezing."

Now worried, Artie asked, "Soon? Did he mean that you'll see him again in a dream or that you'll see him again in the afterlife?"

Smiling, Jim said, "It was just a dream, Artie, nothing else… But something even more strange happened. You're not going to believe it but when I woke up, I could smell his cigar… I suppose it was my imagination working as I always associated Grant with the strong smell of his ever present-cigars…" And he frowned when he noticed that his best friend looked confused. "What?"

His brow furrowed in confusion, Artie said, "To stay in the strange register, I would have sworn smelling the smell of his cigar after I woke up… and I was cold too in my bed… and what's even more strange is that I felt a… let's call it a 'presence' at my side, but when I opened my eyes, but when I looked around me, I was alone in my compartment."

Frowning in his turn, intrigued, "A presence? Do you think that Grant's ghost visited us?"

Nodding Arte responded, "Yes, or we both dreamed about Grant last night and both smelled an imaginary cigar smoke. You remember your dream, I don't."

Jim rubbed his chin pensively. "Hmm… I bet on the first hypothesis."

The older man nodded. "Ghosts exist… we met one, remember Jim? Caroline Day. She and her house had merged to form a lone, powerful entity. She almost killed me with that blue crystal chandelier. Maybe he misses us like we miss him and he came to say hello… it means that you weren't dreaming about him last night, his ghost was there… He came to talk to you and came to see me, as I can remember the smell of his cigar, but didn't talk to me…"

Jumping on this to end that conversation Jim said, "He didn't because you were sleeping, Artie, and I wasn't. He didn't want to disturb you, I didn't want to disturb you either when I decided to visit his grave. I let you sleep." And In order to appease his irate companion, he added, "Everyone knows that the elderly need a lot of sleep," then he grinned playfully.

The telegraph key suddenly clicked to life making them both look for the telegraph box – hidden somewhere. Jim was the first to find it.

He took his place behind the work table between two crates of different kind of hats and signaled he was ready to receive the message

A few seconds later the device rattled. "It's a new assignment, Artie," he said translating the Morse code gradually. "Rendez-vous in New Orleans… Large sums of counterfeited money… are circulating in the city… Find and arrest members of the counterfeiting ring or rings… Possible location of their hideouts… A suspect French lingerie shop… called 'Le Ruban Rouge'… Armed guards in the front… for supposedly preventing men from entering the shop… but mostly lawmen. Good luck…Signed Colonel Robert T. Malone, Director of the Secret Service."

Puzzled, Artie asked, "Why don't the local agents work on that? They are on site, not us. Plus they are certainly younger than us."

Shrugging, Jim replied, "I don't know. Maybe they are not as seasoned as us in that kind of mission. We had lots of them in the past and Skinny wants the best on this mission." He confirmed having received the message, closed the telegraph box and then looked up at Artemus with a wicked smile on his lips. He said, "Well, Artie, as no man is usually allowed in that kind of 'lingerie' shop - because it's a lingerie shop - it will be a good occasion for you to carry out some recon undercover wearing a nice dress, made with the help of your new sewing machine, before we take some action."

Frowning in worry Artie nodded. "And I'll be alone inside that shop for reconnaissance without you at my side to help me in case things turn out badly for me? It's probably a nest of dangerous people, Let me tell you that I'm not thrilled at that prospect."

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Jim asked, "Since when do you have cold feet? Where is gone the fearless and intrepid Artemus Gordon?" Then he lowered his hand toward his gun. "Maybe you're not the real Artemus Gordon, but his doppelganger created by Loveless Jr. and that's why you're reacting this way." He pulled out his Colt from his holster and pointed it at the other man. "Where is Artemus Gordon?"

Rolling his eyes, Artie said, "Right in front of you. You want proof? Only you and I know where I lost my old monogrammed Colt. I never wrote it the post-mission report and we never told that story to anyone. It was at the border with Canada…"

Jim nodded and put his gun back in place. "A bullet grazed your temple, you lost consciousness and dropped it in the muddy and flooded river. The bandits escaped and you spent two hours trying to find it. In vain – while bleeding out and freezing. After that, you passed out in my arms."

Protecting his precious sewing machine with its cover, Artie replied, "See? I'm the real Artemus Gordon, and now I know that you're the real Jim West." He sighed and then added, "You are the intrepid one, Jim, not me. I have always been the most cautious of our duet."

Taking the most recent model of Winchester out from its box, Jim said, "Says the man who adored throwing himself into the lion's den during his reconnaissance missions." He patted Artie's arm in reassurance. "Don't worry, they won't harm you in that lingerie shop, buddy – they may criticize your dress and your hair, but that's all." Then he chuckled mockingly.

Not amused, Artie said, "You forgot that women can be dangerous counterfeiters, Jim. As you know it happened before. And as women are a lot more perceptive than men, they could suspect that I 'm wearing a disguise, remove my wig by surprise or force me to and then kill me thinking that I'm a lawman."

Jim sat on a crate. "Don't worry Artie, I'll be there if you need me, on the other side of the street. You'll just have to call me. A few armed guards are no match for me. They never were, remember? Besides, you can defend yourself, even wearing a dress and a wig, you did it before." He noticed his best friend's face grew somber, saw Artie lower his eyes and finding his hands suddenly very interesting.

Silent pause.

Something was clearly disturbing Artie Jim realized. "Okay, what is it?"

Looking at Jim again, ill at ease, Artemus said, "I don't know if I'm still capable of fighting Jim, to defend myself or to defend you. My physical strength is not what it used to be… first because of my age and because too, as an actor I didn't have to do much exercise… thus I'm badly out of shape."

Jim nodded. "I know what you're thinking about. No one could fight against Alan and Sonya, they had superhuman strength… No one could stop them. Well, a bomb did."

Embarrassed Artie shook his head, "I know, and I'm not talking about that Jim… I'm not a strong man anymore, Jim. I'm 55 now, and heading for old age, slowly but surely. I don't know if I will be able to accomplish this mission and others."

Sitting beside the other man Jim patted Artie's shoulder soothingly. "You will. Don't worry Artie, I can't do anything to change your ripe old age, but I can bring you back to top physical condition. I'm going to put you on a strict training regimen, and after a few days, you'll be back in tip top shape. You will be able to fight like you did in the old times… You were pretty good, Artie."

The older agent grimaced in worry. "Okay, thank you, but be gentle with me alright Jim? Don't forget that I'm much older than you."

Smiling Jim looked around him, "Okay, old timer, let's start your training with transporting all these boxes, crates and trunks to where they belong. You can begin by carrying the guns and the revolvers to my compartment. You do the job, I'll watch to see if you're doing things correctly."

WWW

The next morning, at dawn,

Enroute to New Orleans

It was 6 AM. Artemus was snoring into his pillow, lying sound asleep in his bed when Jim knocked loudly at the door. "Artie, wake up!" He called.

He entered his best friend's sleeping compartment a few seconds later. "Rise and shine, Artie!" he said shaking the other man's shoulder before opening the blinds to let the sun flood the room with its light. "Come on! Wake up buddy! Your training starts in 30 minutes, tops. So you have 30 minutes before that to prepare yourself and to take your breakfast, and I prepared something special for you, it's a healthy, with less fat, because you are a little soft in the middle and you have some weight to lose."

Artie briefly opened one eye and groaned, "Go to hell." Then he rolled onto his other side, facing the wooden bulkhead and not Jim.

Smiling wickedly Jim took the pitcher filled with water sitting on the dresser next to him. "I'm doing this for your own good buddy. Do you want be able to be fight again like you did before? If you do, be a good boy and follow my instructions."

No response, no movement.

He poured the cold water on his best friend's head, all at once, eliciting a yelp and a string of curses from Artie who sat up on his bed.

He giggled. "Oh, I really like to do that, it's funny." He placed the empty pitcher back in place and added, "25 minutes left Artie, and stay in your underwear, you're going to sweat, a lot," then he left the room, heading toward the parlor car.

WWW

His wet dark curls plastered against his head by the real shower he had taken – Artie, wearing only his short black underwear as instructed - spent 20 minutes sitting at the table of the parlor car glaring in silence at Jim who was sitting in front of him reading the Washington Herald – the other man not paying attention at him – eating what his partner had prepared for him. Jim had composed his breakfast of a large bowl of cottage cheese, with no fresh cream, no sugar and no jam in it, a slice of ham on top of a single slice of burned toast – and an apple. Then he drank one cup of what Jim called coffee, black, with no sugar of course and no brandy mixed in it.

Once the light breakfast was over, Artie, still hungry and not caffeinated enough for the morning and still glaring at Jim too, asked, "And now what? You want me to run behind the train for hours like you did the last time?" He narrowed his eyes, suddenly realizing something. "Oh I'm sure you'd love that, right? It's payback for training you hard before the Loveless Junior's case."

Jim said shook his head, "You're imagining things, Artie. I'm doing this to help you – it's the only reason, believe me. But if you don't want to train with me, it's up to you. I'm not forcing you to do that."

His shoulders slouching, Artemus softened. "No, it's okay. I really need to be in top shape now that I'm a special agent again - whatever it costs me it will save me from being hurt or killed."

Jim nodded. "Exactly." He folded the newspaper and said, "You won't run behind the Wanderer like I did because it would kill you – your heart would stop after a few miles. No, let's start with something easy, a dozen pushups, for example, and then I'll give you my jumping rope. You'll use it for 30 minutes. Then I will grant you a 20 minute break before starting the whole thing again. Are you okay with that?"

Artie nodded in resignation, "I agree. Alright, you won't hear any complaint coming from me. I'll do it. But if I die, I'll come to haunt you till your death."

Smiling, Jim stood and pointed at the carpeted floor at his feet. "Come here and get down Artemus, you're going to do a series of 10 pushups. And you're not going to die. You mom and Harry will kill me and I want to stay alive. Come on!" Artemus complied lowering himself down until his elbows bent to a squared angle then he pushed himself up. "One… two…" three…You're doing great!' He encouraged. "Come on! Up…and down…and up…and down… four… five…"

Beads of sweat rolling down his face, Artemus suddenly collapsed on the carpeted floor, out of breath. "Let's start from the beginning, Artie. If you don't finish a complete series of 12 pushups, you'll have to start from zero. One…"

And Artie re-started thrusting himself up again.

Tbc.