THE NIGHT OF THE DEADLY AVALANCHE

By Andamogirl

Author's note: season 1.

Reference to the episode, "The Night of the Murderous Spring". Episode-tag.

Reference to my story "The Night of the First Mission".

Jim: "I thought I shot you."

Artie: "Well, you've done a lot of things to me in your time, but you never got around to that."

Loveless: "Oh, Kitten, it's so amusing the way men pride themselves on being civilized. But just four ounces of this, mixed with water, absorbed through the skin, and goodbye adieu ta-ta to all that veneer of civilization they prize so highly. Dissolved. And what emerges is the true nature of man. That primitive, murderous animal he really is, with absolutely no control over his feelings. A selfish beast. (checks the chocolate box) I.. wanted a candy, Kitten, and you've eaten all of them. Now I had my heart set on that. Ooh, fudge! Fudge, fudge! Fudge!"

The Night of the Murderous Spring

Many thanks to my beta reader Englishtutor.

WWW

TEASER

The Wanderer, on its way to Washington

It was close to midnight when Artemus Gordon left his sleeping compartment.

He was unable to sleep anymore because of the full moon. Every time the perfectly round satellite shone in the night sky – he couldn't close his eyes for more than a couple of hours.

He didn't know why, but it was exasperating – and exhausting, he mused.

He was heading towards his lab to do some work on his latest costume – the complete attire of El Diablo Negro, a famous Mexican bandido of his invention – wig included - when he heard muffled sobs coming from his partner's sleeping compartment.

He stopped dead in his tracks in the narrow walkway and placed his ear against the wood panel. Hearing a series of new sobs, he knocked at the door. "Jim? Jim?"

No response – and new sobs resounded.

Concerned he opened the door and entered the dimly lit room, discovering James West thrashing in his bed, his head half buried in his pillow – mumbling to himself incomprehensible words.

Now very worried, Artie sat on the edge of the bed and shook his best friend's arm. "Wake up Jim, you're having a bad dream."

But Jim West stayed prisoner of his nightmare and he suddenly whimpered, "Artie, no! no! Artemus! What did I do? Oh, God!"

Artie sighed and shook his head gloomily. This was bound to happen.

Pulling the other man's body in his arms and holding him close Artie said, "Come on, Jim, wake up!" He ran soothing circles in Jim's back. "I'm all right, you didn't kill me, it was a hallucination."

Suddenly Jim parted from his partner, eyes wide opened – and terrified. He touched Artie's face with a trembling hand. "I killed you. You're dead," He said.

Cupping Jim's face Artie smiled, "No I'm not, I'm very much alive… " He placed Jim's hand on his chest, on top of his heart. "See? My heart's beating. You've done a lot of things to me in your time, like drugging me, punching me, strangling me and regularly stealing my girlfriends, but you never got around to that – well, you did shoot me once, during the war and you almost killed me, yes, I agree, but it was before we were partners, so it doesn't count." He smiled reassuringly. "I'm here."

Blinking, both disoriented and confused Jim placed a hand on Artie's throat – feeling for his pulse and finding it, beating steadily. "You're-you're alive… Then I didn't kill you?"

Smiling Artie shook his head. "No, you didn't. That was a hallucination, remember? Dr. Loveless drugged you, Jim, and he messed with your mind. And Loveless's dead now – drowned in that pond – along with Antoinette and Kitten, remember?"

Running a trembling hand on his face wet with tears Jim nodded. "Yes, I remember now." He beamed. "I'm so relieved that you're okay Artie."

Patting Jim's shoulder with affection Artie stood and said. "Go back to sleep."

But Jim was fully awake now. "I can't. What about you, Artie? What are you doing up in the middle of the night? You usually sleep like a baby. Oh! I know, it's full moon."

Artie growled. "Yes! and I apologize in advance for becoming like an irritated bear deprived of its hibernation cycle for the next few days… because of the lack of sleep." He headed toward the walkway. "May I offer you a coffee? I have left a pot on the stove." He paused, leaning on the doorjamb. He sighed and added, "You barely have been able to look at me, and talk to me since we came back to the train. I probably know why: you were lost in your thoughts and playing again and again what happened to me…"

Lowering his eyes Jim nodded. "Yes, I was terribly ashamed – and I am still ashamed. How could I have done that to you? Kill you. You're like a brother to me, Artie. You must hate me."

He looked so stricken that Artie took his hand in his and pressed it warmly. "Look at me, Jim. Nothing was real – and I don't hate you."

Still focused on his hallucination Jim paled and continued, "I didn't hesitate to shoot you because you wanted to protect me from getting ambushed by Loveless… but in my drugged mind, you wanted to stop me from pursuing him… and I couldn't accept that. I was mad at you – no, I hated you, Artemus. I wanted you out of my way – and I shot you to do that. Bleeding, dying – you looked at me, both stunned and puzzled… you stumbled over to me and then you collapsed to the ground… Then I realized what I had done… I grabbed your shoulders; I was horrified by what I just had done. You just said "why?" eyes wide opened with incredulity and then… you died. I cried over your dead body, but it didn't last long, only a few seconds. I was so obsessed about finding Loveless – hearing him laugh relentlessly, like a madman in my head - that I left the stable shortly after, completely forgetting you."

Pressing his best friend's shoulder in a comforting gesture, Artie said, "That was the * you * of your hallucination, Jim, not the you-You. You and I both know that you wouldn't harm a single hair of my head. That drug had impaired your judgment, Jim. You had absolutely no control over your emotions. All you wanted was to get rid of Loveless, at any cost – and didn't tolerate anything or anyone between you and him. You were like a primitive hunter – following your primal instincts. Only your goal mattered. I didn't." He smiled. "It's over now. Let's go get a coffee."

Still feeling badly Jim nodded, half smiling. "Okay. I'm sorry, Artemus."

Moving in the walkway Artemus said, "Don't be, you didn't do anything." He smiled his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Think of it, James my boy, it would be unwise to kill me. You won't find anyone else like me, never, someone who builds handy gadgets for you, who cooks gourmet food each day, who writes reports, all the reports, even yours, someone who has my charm, my wit…"

Following the other man Jim nodded. "And your guile, your trickery, your cunning… Someone who can be the devil itself when he wants to. You're unique Artemus, irreplaceable."

Placing his hand on his heart Artie pivoted and bowed. "You know me. So many compliments, thank you, my dear sir." Then he laughed. "You know about Loveless, Antoinette and Kitty, I wouldn't be so sure they're dead. No body was found. But that pond possesses a siphon leading to a subterranean river so… it's possible that the current led them there…"

Smiling Jim followed his partner in the galley. "Stop talking about them, okay? I want to forget what happened. Let's have a cup of that excellent coffee of yours and you could even prepare some cookies…."

The older man chuckled. "Slave driver!" he said, heading toward the stove. He had grabbed the handle of the coffee pot when suddenly the train slow down in a concert of squeaking and the two men had to grab the furniture not to fall to the floor.

Shortly after the Wanderer finally stopped in a screech of brakes.

The two secret agents left the galley in a hurry, quickly retrieved a gun in their sleeping compartments, and then headed toward the parlor car.

Jim opened the door and…Ulysses S. Grant appeared on the rear platform, a travel bag sitting at his feet, his left hand raised.

Grant smiled. "Don't shoot boys. Lower your guns, it's only me. You wouldn't want to kill the President of the United States, would you? Everyone knows that this country's got some serious problems but this isn't the way to solve them. So don't shoot me."

Both stunned Jim and Artie lowered their Colt and stood at attention.

President Grant entered the parlor car, holding his bag, and closed the door behind him. He rubbed his hands together. "Brrr… It's cold outside, and it's pouring down, but it could snow in a short time," he said, before the thunder boomed loud, echoing in the night. "At ease gentlemen. Happy to see me?"

Tbc.