Eve Baird and Jenkins stepped unnoticed through the magic door and into a busy parking lot. As they threaded their way quickly through the parked cars, Eve briskly restated yet again the goals she wanted to accomplish in this mission. The tall blonde turned to say something particularly important to her companion, only to find that he was lagging far behind her. In fact, the pale-faced man looked as though he was about to turn tail and bolt back through the door to the safety of the Annex. The Guardian stopped and waited impatiently for him, her hands planted on her hips and dramatically tapping her booted foot.
"And just what are you doing all the way back there, mister?" she demanded. Jenkins had a nervous, sheepish look on his face.
"Perhaps I shouldn't have volunteered for this mission, after all, Colonel," he answered uneasily. "I don't think I really possess the necessary skill sets for an endeavor like this..." Baird set her jaw and strode quickly back to the balking immortal. She took his head between her hands and stared him steadily in his nervous brown eyes.
"Don't you dare wimp out on me now, old man!" she said, her voice low and commanding. "Jenkins, you have fought in and walked away from some of the most horrific battles in history. You have fought with and killed honest-to-God fire-breathing dragons. You have withstood famines, plagues, droughts, torture. You have stood up to some of the most powerful and dangerous people in the world, both magical and non-magical. You said yourself that you need to get out of the Annex more, and this is the perfect opportunity. We have a lot of people depending on us to complete this mission, Jenkins, and to complete it successfully!" Jenkins straightened to his full height and stiffened stubbornly. He wasn't buying it.
"Yes, I understand all of that, but, really, Colonel, the more I think about this, the more I feel I've made a dreadful mistake. Perhaps Cassandra would be better suited…" he began, but Eve cut him off. So much for pep talks; time for Plan B.
"Oh, no you don't, Jenkins!" she said, her voice determined as she scurried to stand directly behind the huge immortal. She placed both of her gloved hands on his broad back and grunted loudly as she pushed him toward the doors with all of her strength. "Get in there, you big chicken!"
Jenkins stumbled forward, protesting the entire way. The doors slid smoothly open automatically, like the maw of some post-modern beast, and allowed Baird to push him inside.
The nervous Caretaker suddenly found himself in a cavernous room full of packed shelving that seemed to go on forever—rather like the Library, only not nearly so inviting. He froze, staring in dumbly around him, his senses assailed from all directions. Through the stifling air inside the building came the strains recorded Christmas muzak, talking, arguing, crying, bells, machinery of some sort, laughter. He smelled sweat, dust, perfume, cooking food, and some odors he couldn't even begin to identify. People rushed to and fro, pushing overloaded carts full of goods of all descriptions in front of them. Small, furiously screaming children ran everywhere, apparently at will and with no obvious supervision. It was chaos, noise and disorder everywhere, all of his senses were overwhelmed. He began to feel dizzy, and a tightness in his chest suddenly made it difficult to breathe. For a split-second, he was standing on a distant battlefield again, surrounded by dying men and screaming horses, the smell of fresh blood and churned mud filling his nose.
Eve saw the Caretaker's eyes glaze over, and she instantly knew what was happening. One large hand rise to cover her friend's lips, a sure sign of his distress, and, his eyes wide and staring at the horrors of some long-past battle, he began backing slowly towards the door. Eve cursed herself for her stupidity; he had volunteered to come with her today, but was she right to make him stay now? She stepped next to him and slid her arm around his shoulders, gave him a quick reassuring hug. She should've realized that after isolating himself from the rest of humanity for so long, he was bound to be overly stressed by the hordes of shoppers during the Christmas season. Perhaps this mission hadn't been such a good idea after all.
She shook her head. Jenkins could do it, she had confidence in him.
"Don't worry, Jenkins, I'm here, I'll have your six the entire time. You can do this, I know you can," she said, her voice low as she tried to encourage the naturally reclusive immortal. At the sound of her voice, Jenkins turned, seemed almost startled to see her there. He looked around again, but this time saw only a busy store packed with harried shoppers. He looked back at Eve and saw in her clear blue eyes that she was telling the truth—he would be safe with her. He would always be safe with Eve. Jenkins raised his head and took a deep, cleansing breath.
"Thank you, Colonel," he replied shakily, taking her hand in his and giving it a tight squeeze, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "You're right, I can do this."
"You sure?" Baird asked, concerned. "We can go back if you really want to, it's not…"
"No, Colonel, I'm staying," he interrupted flatly. His eyes hardened and he raised his head with resolve. "I promised you that I would help you with this mission, and I am determined to fulfill that pledge." Eve grinned in response and looped her arm around his.
"Good man, Jenkins," she said softly, genuinely proud of him. "Now, let's go get that stuff for the Christmas party!"