Anne Possible rolled out of bed…and her hand unconsciously drifted to her stomach. She was…pregnant, with child, had a bun in the oven, was about to pop out a chillun, and a whole bunch of other goofy expressions. After the initial shock had worn off, Anne was…she couldn't wait to tell everyone! It had…well…she and James had pretty much…having more children really wasn't on…but they were going to! They were going to have another child.
"Good morning, love of my life and mother of my soon to be four children," James leaned over, planting a kiss on Anne's cheek and proceeding to do the same to her stomach. "And how are we feeling this morning?"
"Well…still a little overwhelmed but…pretty darn excited too," Anne sighed, leaning into the one-armed embrace she now found herself it. "Frankly, James, I…I'm just so relieved you reacted the way you did. The whole drive home, I was afraid that…"
"You were 'afraid'?" James interrupted. "Sweetie, what did you have to be afraid of? We're going to have another baby and I haven't been this excited since…well…I think since we found out you were pregnant with the boys."
James was such a goof…but damned if he wasn't just about the best father Anne knew of…except for Daddy. Ever since their first date, James just always seemed to know exactly what to say to put Anne at ease or calm her nerves. She'd…she'd definitely made the right decision when she agreed to go out with that scraggly-haired beanpole of a college student. Looking back on it, it was about the easiest decision she ever made.
"Well…I suppose we should go down and face the family."
"Or," James snuggled up a little closer and started nuzzling her neck. "We could lock the door and have a little…us…time."
Was he…serious? "James Andrew Possible, what in the name of…"
"Look at it this way," James whispered. "At least now I can't get you pregnant."
Did he just say…oh, he couldn't have! Maybe "right decision" had been the wrong words. Well…she'd fix him. Anne's hand shot out and grabbed a pillow, promptly swinging it up to thump her husband in the face with a quite satisfying OOOOOF!
"Well, excuse ME for trying to be romantic," James half grumbled and half laughed.
"Ha…REAL romantic there, Jimmy boy; now, if you don't mind, since I'm once again eating for two, can we please go down to breakfast?"
The pair marched down the steps together hand in hand and was greeted by a quartet of smiling faces around the breakfast table. Mom must've elected to make breakfast and…for the first time in too long, the breakfast table wasn't a ravenous display of abandon and horrible table manners. All three of the children were standing and waiting patiently for what Anne assumed was her to take her seat.
"I could get used to this," Anne sighed as she took her seat and gazed at the hot Spanish omelet sitting before her, her favorite. "Kind of makes me consider trying for a fifth child after this."
Mom and James let out a few sniggers at that but Anne's eyes kept being drawn to Kim and the boys. As she looked closer, she could see the signs of the smiles starting to strain and frequent glances to the table ladened with various eggs. Oh dear; they almost looked like they were in pain. What did Mom say to them? Okay…she'd enjoyed it but knowing her kids, this was probably bordering on child abuse.
"Alright, you three," Mom fixed her grandkids with a stern look a drill sergeant might envy. "You're free to eat. Grandma Cederholm will rest easy."
All pretences now abandoned, the three dove in, helping themselves to scrambled eggs, toast, and fried potatoes. As Anne dove into the omelet…it was like diving into a slice of Heaven. The mushrooms and onions were grilled to perfection. The eggs were light and fluffy, exactly like Anne had remembered, and the whole thing exquisitely seasoned. What was Mom's secret?
"Oh, Mom," Anne said around a mouthful of egg. "This is fantastic, the best I ever had. You really didn't have to…"
"Oh yes I did, Missy," Mom replied so matter-of-factly. "This will be the first grandchild I get to be here fore and I am GOING to do things right. My baby is now eating for her own baby and I am going to be there for everything she needs."
Admittedly, that thought HADN'T been lost on her. Mom had played a part, for better or worse, in Kim's birth but had completely absent for Jim and Tim's birth, something that at the time, Anne was oh so thankful for. Anne was…as she thought about it, it really did mean a lot to her that Mom was going to be here for this. She'd be…one of the first to hold their new son or daughter. The child would never not know a Grandma Kessler.
"Thanks, Mom," Anne leaned in and wrapped Mom in a one-armed hug. "That really does mean a lot."
The meal progressed quite jovially. The twins had been egging Mom on to take them to the movies now that they were on vacation. Kim had mentioned a few "unsavory" characters that had visited the store a few days ago. Only in their family did the word "unsavory" usually refer to a Wesen, but Kim assured them that she had probably let her imagination get the better of her, which certainly no one could blame the poor kid for.
But the conversation just seemed to want to stick to babies. "Mom," Anne pushed her empty plate forward, feeling as if she'd eaten enough for triplets. "Did you and Daddy ever…you know…think about having more kids?"
"Well," Mom answered after swallowing a mouthful of juice. "That's a bit of a tale to tell. We'd talked about it certainly, after all, your Grandma Kessler WAS Irish, but…to tell you the truth, you kind of made your Dad and I a little gun shy about having more kids."
What the…what the Hell was THAT supposed to mean? Anne sure didn't recall getting into trouble that much. She always thought she was a good little girl!
"Oh boy," Mom continued turning to the twins. "Let me tell you, boys. Your Mom ran your Grandpa and I completely in circles. She was living proof that you can never child-proof a house. Sometimes it seemed like she just went 100 mph and was powered by a nuclear reactor!"
"Oh, come ON, Mom. That sounds like a BIT of an overreaction!"
"Overreaction nothing," Mom shot back, clearly enjoying herself a little too much. "Little Annie Rebecca Kessler was like a force of nature. I had this house plant in our apartment that I'd been tending since before your Mom was born. She was about a year old and she got it in her head that the flower pot that housed my prized Jerusalem tulip would make a particularly fetching hat."
There were several snorts of laughter around the table. Anne could feel the blood running to her cheeks. This was all so…Mom could at least have had the decency to…she…GRRRRRRR!
"Then there was also the time that your Mom wanted to make a cake for your Grandpa getting a promotion at work and…let's just say that by the time I got there, your Mom looked like she'd been ROLLING in the flour instead of trying to bake with it."
"I was only FOUR, Mom," Anne shot back.
…BEEEP…BEEEP…
Anne had NEVER been so glat to hear work calling.
"I'll say ONE thing for dead bodies," Anne grumbled as she got up from the table. "THEY are nice and quiet!"
KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP
"CONGRATULATIONS!"
Anne jumped back in surprise as close to a hundred voices seemed to appear out of the walls in a joyous celebration. Anne nearly thought she would go into labor right there on the spot. It seemed like everyone in the department was trying to wedge their way towards her, to voice their congratulations, to give her a hug, or…why was it the moment word got out a woman was pregnant her stomach seemed to become public domain?
"Well, at least that explains why you were going soft on me," Mack replied, thumping her on the back. At least it was a relief from constantly having her stomach rubbed. "I should've been able to smell it. How far along are you?"
"Doc says a little over a month," Anne smiled as she accepted the piece of red velvet cake offered her. James and I had the house to ourselves for the first time in months and…well...neither of us thought it would…" Mack let out a cackle of laughter and took a slice of cake for herself. "I can't believe you guys called in a fake body just to get me in here."
"Oh, we didn't fake it. We've got a dead body in a dumpster on 12th Street. The first responder's been stealing my Diet Cokes from the fridge and I wanted to make him sweat!"
She…? Anne rolled her eyes. Her kind really WERE like dogs sometimes, hardened officers and protectors of law and justice…but far too playful for their own good. Well…Anne still had those two stiffs waiting in the morgue that she needed to get to so…the party was a nice gesture but work was still calling.
Party or no, the deputy ME had the van ready so Anne elected to finish her slice of rather exquisite red velvet cake enroot. Her nausea wasn't that bad right now so she could probably chance it. Red Velvet WAS her favorite. As they drove, even this early in the morning, you could see the holiday crowds beginning to muster. It was nice. When your job sort of revolved around death, it could be easy and…well…sometimes expected…to see the world in a cynical nature. Anne had certainly had days that were harder to forget than most, both as an ME and a Grimm, especially as a Grimm, but…all these people were preparing to celebrate…hope…and giving…and sacrifice and…and now, Anne had a new life growing inside her once again and…when she looked at things like this, the people, the places, it…it just made it all worthwhile somehow.
But that didn't make the job any less gruesome. After the quick series of congratulations from the officers…did Ames actually pass the news onto the entire department…the recently pregnant Anne Possible found herself crouching in a dumpster over a charred and snow-covered body. Things were getting…interesting to say the least. Whoever this was, he wasn't beaten by a flaming object but…that charred mass of flesh where his right lung used to be was nonetheless…thought provoking. It looked like…almost like something had burned so hot that…that it melted clean through the man's chest. Well…at least cause of death was going to be easy to figure out…but…in order to burn that hot, whatever did this had to burn at well over 2000 degrees. This HAD to be Wesen but…what kind she had absolutely no idea about. She'd never come across anything like this…unless…
"What've we got?" Mack climbed in beside Anne.
"Victim is late twenties, maybe early thirties," Anne explained, examining the head. "Rigor had definitely started setting in before he was dumped so…the killer had to have dragged him from somewhere nearby. I'd wager that they didn't want to attract attention so they avoided using a car."
"That fits," Mack replied, doing her own visual examination. "One of the uniforms found a trail leading down Chambers Street."
Chambers Street? Buried Treasures was maybe a block or two up the street. Hadn't Kimmie mentioned some suspicious Wesen coming into the store a few days ago? Anne couldn't recall her daughter going into details but…the store had internal cameras and sensors to put the Pentagon to shame…but few if any cameras on the street.
"Anne? Something on your mind?"
"Amy's antique store is up the street. Kimmie mentioned seeing some…unsavory was the word…Wesen that came into the store last night, two of them."
"You thinking one of them was the killer?"
"Whoever it was, Mack…this is one DANGEROUS Wesen. I'll check my books but…I have my suspicions but…nothing concrete. If I'm right, it might complicate things."
Mack's cell phone chimed. "Brody," She answered. "Are you sure? Okay; I'll tell her." The call clicked off and Mack motioned for the two to climb out. "ID just came back on those two stiffs from last night. They just so happened to be two high-profile hitmen for the Montefusco crime family out of DC."
Montefusco…Montefusco…something about that name seemed to claw at her memory but she couldn't quite…
"They…just so happen to be the 'family' that…grabbed the Lutz girl a few months back. Which…would make them Hässlichen…and I'd bet dollars to dog biscuits that we were just staring at another one in the dumpster."
KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP
"Man, Mr. Lutz, I think Mrs. Lutz is really going to like this," Kim smiled as she finished tying the green bow on the box containing an antique Mette Magrete Tvistman clock. Kim could clearly remember her hands trembling as Mr. Lutz brought the piece in. Mette Magrette Tvistman was the first female clockmaker in Danish History…and the fact that Kim knew that was probably a sign that she'd been hanging around with Monroe a little too long…and even in as rough a shape as it was in, the clock was absolutely gorgeous. According to Mr. Lutz, the clock had been a wedding gift to Tara's six or seven times great grandmother, which had to make it one of the first ever made, and had been in the family ever since. While Aunt Amy had handled the inner workings, that polished oak finish, that new hand-painted clock face, those were all Kimberly Anne Possible!
Man, her holiday check was going to be so spankin! After Christmas, she was going to take everyone on a little road trip to Phillie. They'd do some shopping and…and she and Ron could sneak away to the Delaware River and…spend some alone time together. She could probably talk Grandma into going along as a chaperone.
The door chimed in and Mr. Lutz thanked whoever had held the door open for him; T'was the season to be Jolly, after all. This morning was only the beginning. Kim had a LOT more jolliness to spread and this customer was probably a good next step.
"Happy Holidays; can I help you find something?"
He seemed to be perusing a selection of old French Literature when…two years of training had made the reaction instantaneous. His hand shot out for Kim's face and her wrist shot up in a block…but not before a finger sent her glasses clattering to the floor. Her hands locked in a death grip around the man's wrist, squeezing…squeezing until…
…CRUNCH…
She felt the bones snap. Either a dislocation or a break either way, that hand would be useless for weeks if not months. Without even looking, she brought her knee up and pushed herself back towards the counter. Her kukri was the only choice. The pistol would take too much time. She hit the counter with a thump and her hand shot back under the desk, wrapping around the walnut hilt of her trusty weapon and whirled around into a fighting stance and…her breath caught for just the slightest of seconds. H…Hässlich! It was the serious one from last night!
"Le démon montre ses vraies couleurs!"
"Yeah…you're not in France. I spent some time over there and…it wasn't exactly a happy time!"
His only response was to reach into his trench coat and pull out…some kind of bladed weapon. It almost looked like a…like a kama with the blade folded down. He must've flipped a switch on the weapon because the blade flipped up as if spring-loaded. It was a slight twitch but it was enough. He let out a snarl and lunged at her. Her kukri thumped against the wooden handle, knocking it off course, but the momentum still pressing her against the counter. Well, that wasn't going to last. She brought her hand up and slammed it into his sternum. Using the recoil, she clenched her hand into a fist and sent it flying into his gut. Nothing fancy but…it hardly seemed to faze him. No time to think back to her books; this guy was going to be tough.
...CRUNCH…
…BLOCK…
…BLOCK…
…SMACK…
…SLAM…
It all happened so fast that Kim refused to come out of her fighting stance.
"You touch my daughter…and I'll skin you alive and feed you to a Lausenschlange!"
"MOM!"
Mom, Detective Brody, and Aunt Amy were standing over the fallen Hässlich, Detective Brody and Aunt Amy with their guns leveled and Mom…Mom held a baton over her head like…like the sword Excalibur.
"I'm calling for backup," Detective Brody barked.
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Wow…movies had sure changed since the last time Barbara Kessler was in a movie theater…at least when it wasn't a clandestine rendezvous. When she was the twins' age, The Fearless Ferret was a goofy TV show on Wednesday nights starring Peter North. This was…actually pretty breathtaking! These special effects were…like nothing she'd ever seen. Things looked so real that...what a sight she probably was, a sixty five year old woman staring absolutely enraptured at the screen, mindlessly shoving popcorn into her face.
"You can't kill me! I'm the Ferret!"
God, she had missed out on so much over the years. She could remember seeing Star Wars for the first time with Patrick and thinking the same thing. She…she was just going to ask for movies…lots and lots of movies, every hit movie since…was Raiders of the Lost Ark the last movie she remembered seeing? That'd been a doozy but…she could only imagine what else was out there!
Just as the Ferret had returned to the Ferret Hole, Barbara felt a call of nature, seriously considering ignoring it, but electing to miss a few minutes. The boys could fill her in later. It was a little unnerving going from constant explosions to the complete quiet of the theater lobby. In retrospect, she probably made the right call. What was it about soda that just seemed to shoot right through her? She did her business, cleaned herself up a little, and headed straight back to the theater. White Stripe had all the bridges to Hawthorn City wired to blow and the Fearless Ferret wasn't about to let that stand for…
…BUZZ…BUZZ…BUZZ…
Oh come ON! Really? They were right at the good part and Annie was picking NOW to call? This had better be important or she and her daughter were going to have…
…it wasn't a phone call. A series of texts seemed to bombard Barbara's phone all at once. Something…something had happened at Kimmie's store and…a lot of it Barbara couldn't exactly make heads or tails of. She brought up the last text and…
REAPER!
GET BOYS HOME!
She felt her grip tighten on the phone to the point that she was liable to crush it. Reapers were in Middleton! Kim had mentioned some sketchy…and Barbara hadn't thought to…she was…getting soft and…and now her family was…
…was perfectly fine! Kimberly didn't have a scratch on her and the Reaper was in custody. All you have to do is get the boys home!
It…it really was getting annoying how her conscience was now always sounding like her late husband! And, as usual, he was right. Kim had just held her own against a Reaper and Annie and the Middleton PD were going to make the right…okay…they were going to decide what to do. It wasn't for her to say one way or another. Anne just wanted the boys home and Barbara was perfectly willing to acquiesce.
The boys grumbled at the prospect of getting pulled out of the movie but thankfully Anne had explained enough about what she did that the boys had been through this before.
…BEEP…BEEP…BEEP…
Barbara's hand shot to her phone clip. "Annie?"
"Oh, thank God. Are you guys okay?"
"Yeah, we're on our way out of the theater now."
"Stay there. There's a cruiser headed your way. Officer Eddie Janko is a friend and should be there any minute."
"Was it only one?"
"Yes but…he's not working alone. It's…I sort of caught a Mob case a few months back involving Hässlichen. It's too much to really get into over the phone. Just get the boys to Officer Janko and follow her home. Head to the police station after and we can explain then."
A mob case? That…almost sounded normal. They were after her daughter because she probably put one of their hitmen away or her brilliant daughter found the DNA of the Godfather's son on a body. Any mother would've been scared stiff if their daughter was caught up in something like that and…Barbara actually kind of felt better knowing this was a police matter as opposed to a…to a Grimm matter. Ha…a bit of a pun, that. She'd have to remember that one.
Officer "Eddie" Janko, as it turned out, was a smallish blonde girl with a youthful face that reminded Barbara of what she'd heard referred to as "the girl next door". She'd been Johnny…or Janie on the Spot…about getting to the theater. No telling if she was Wesen or not but it didn't really matter right now. The boys already seemed to be familiar with her so she didn't ask a lot of questions. The boys piled into her cruiser and Barbara hot footed it to James's car. For good measure, Officer Janko retreated to the trunk of the cruiser and fished out a shotgun and a hand full of shells.
"Doc says you're pretty good. You're going to need to be."
Barbara was certainly no stranger to firearms, being a Cop's daughter. Daddy had insisted on self-defense classes, not just for Barbara, but Sammy too, and both had also probably been the only two girls in 1960s Chicago who, when they weren't playing with dolls, were learning to field strip and clean Daddy's service revolver. Hell, they both could do it blind-folded by the time they were twelve. The Remington 12-guage shotgun actually had kind of a familiar feel to it.
They could do this! They could beat a bunch of Hässlichen gangster wannabes! The resurrected Lion's Pride had already overcome the Ende der Zeitens once again. Kimmie had…Barbara's granddaughter had held her own against a Reaper, no small accomplishment in one so young. Of course, Barbara would expect nothing less. Kimmie WAS a Lager after all.
Barbara threw the Ford Crown Victoria into drive and pulled out into traffic. The key was making it look like she herself was tailing the cop car. Hässlichen weren't exactly the brightest crayons in the Wesen crayon box and as long as they hadn't seen the handoff, she should at least be able to confuse them, maybe draw them off. Now…who looked suspicious? Hässlichen were nothing if not clichéd and predictable. She glanced in her rear view…damned if she didn't miss her Ducati right now…and saw a blue pick-up, a tan Jeep…and a midnight black Lincoln Navigator? That certainly screamed "tail"…and it was almost perfect distance to be one. Barbara made a right turn, the truck went straight, as did the Jeep…and the Navigator was now directly behind her. She could see…tinted windows. THAT was sure subtle. They came to a 4-way stop…damn it; she could see movement but no details. She'd felt okay before but…this was getting a little unnerving! They weren't signaling a turn. It was Barbara's turn and she pulled ahead…and the released a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. The Navigator was turning left! At least that was one headache that…
It had only been for half a second, if that. But she had seen him…and she was fairly certain he had seen her. The man was wearing a black form-fitting trench coat, close cropped hair, and…how…how did…no one see it? He was holding a scythe! There…there was a…they only sent two when they were determined to…
Her grip on the steering wheel tightened, turning her knuckles white. A Crown Vic was a very non-descript looking vehicle. No way that he could recognize it as fast as she was going. She eyed the shotgun in the seat next to her. A sickle was powerful and intimidating…but as traditional as Barbara liked to think she was, she felt more than comfortable with a little 21st Century justice on anyone that tried to come near her family!
Author's Notes:
Hope you like the building of tension. Rest assured that the tip of the iceberg has yet to be reached. To paraphrase Marc Antony, will the Possibles cry "Havoc" and let slip the Blutbaden of War?
