Once Upon a Christmas Dawn…

I woke full of childish excitement, it was Christmas morning and for once my apartment was decorated to the nines. I had tinsel and fairy lights and a proudly decorated tree. The sitting room smelled strongly of pine, and my Christmas eye studiously ignored the few hundred pine needles scattered under the 'fresh' tree. I hummed a hymn to myself to stop any non-goodwill mutterings of 'stupid cheap half-dead trees'.

After my traditional breakfast of half a dozen chocolate coins and an orange, I grabbed the presents under my tree and headed to the parking lot. Christmas was going to be hectic this year; my parent's house was going to be full to bursting with Valerie, Albert and their minor circus in tow. Not to mention Grandma Mazur and her latest love-boat, Mr Johnson.

I hopped happily into my latest CR-V and cranked the engine over. On a good day it took 15 minutes to get to my parents house, today the roads were choc full of traffic as half the residents of the Burg travelled to other relatives of the Burg. I was smug; I had factored this into my planning; not only had I planned, but I was going to be on time. The only other thing I had to worry about today was fielding questions about Joe, his lack of presence, and our lack of a relationship. Still, it was Christmas, and I'm pretty sure that means I can do anything. Like a Christmas Wonder Woman. Or a Female Santa. I always thought 'Santa' sounded female, shouldn't it be 'Santo'?

I punched on the radio as I waited in front of the glaring red traffic lights. I grinned and started to sing loudly as The Pogues came on. 'It was Christmas Eve Babe, In the drunk tank. An old man said to me, won't see another one, And then he sang a song'.

I smiled at the 'Babe' and on an impulse, I speed dialled one. At the beep I left a message. 'Yo yourself. Have a great Christmas!'

At the next set of traffic lights I was listening to 'Grandma got run over by a Reindeer'. It made me smile all the more; Grandma Mazur sang this every year… I think its my Dads favourite song, he just closes his eyes while she sings and smiles.

I was still happily singing along when my car door was yanked open, I turned to yell indignantly and got a face full of cloth that smelled like chemicals. I struggled, reaching into my pocket I managed to pull out my mini pepper spray. I pressed the button and aimed at my assailant but at the end of the day; it was like Paper Vs Scissors. And my pepper spray was the paper. Flimsy, crappy tissue paper, that looks pretty but doesn't hold up to much.

That was pretty much my last thought before I was down and out.

I awoke feeling muggy, disorientated, and with one helluva of a headache. Chlorophyll. Ack.

I cautiously opened my eyes and looked around. Yep, same old, same old; I was tied to a chair. Upon closer inspection it appeared I was confined with climbing rope; great, gnawing through this wasn't going to hack it. I contemplated trying to break the chair, but that was going to be noisy, and even I knew that stealth might be a good idea for this one.

The room was fairly big, about the size of my sitting room; the walls were plain beige, and it was furnished only with one desk and three chairs - one of which was currently attached to my ass.

Doing the math, and taking a wild guess, I probably had to worry about two assailants. I cast my mind back over my past FTAs and wondered who could be mad enough to try and kidnap me, especially on Christmas. I was coming up blank, I could think of a few people who would happily break in my apartment and vandalise it, or even firebomb my car, but no one was angry enough to want to ruin their own Christmas; even criminals had families.

The sole door to the room opened and two familiar men walked in.

'Mitchell?' I said, 'Habib?' The two lackeys of Arturo Stolle, Carpet King extraordinaire, walked in and took a seat each.

'You are wily American bitch dog.' Habib said, 'this time we tie you up good. No window escape for you.' Habib had a point, there wasn't any windows, that was odd…perhaps we were underground somewhere?

Habib hadn't changed, his clothes were still dour colours, his body was still soft, and his English was still pigeon. Mitchell still looked like Hulk Hogan with a buzz cut, and he still had his permanent grimace.

'Jeez,' I said to him, 'the wife is going to give you hell for missing Christmas.'

'Don't I know it.' He grouched. 'It's all I'm going to hear about for the next 10 years. Any fight, and it'll be 'well…atleast my children have seen me each Christmas.' This is a lousy job.' He complained.

'Have you thought about going into Dry Cleaning?' I asked, 'It's really not so bad. Although your thumbs sometimes hurt from all the tagging you have to do.'

'Miss Plum, I am in Dry Cleaning.'

'Good point. So…what's Stolle's problem this time?'

Habib snickered, 'Stupid blonde pimbo. She think we still work for Stolle.'

'Bimbo.' Mitchell corrected.

'This is what I am saying, pimbo.'

'I'm not blonde.' I pointed out. A beat later, 'Hey! I'm not stupid either!' Keep them talking Stephanie, maybe a plan will miraculously appear in your brain. 'So if your not working for Stolle, who are you working for?'

'Ramos.' Mitchell grunted.

'Which one?'

'Ulysses.' Mitchell said, 'Hannibal and Homer are in jail.'

'Oh.' I said, but couldn't work up any sympathy. 'What about Alexander?'

'Dead like lazy children of my country.' Habib said, 'They should work in factories. It is good job, only lose few fingers.'

I blinked. 'Alexander is dead?'

Mitchell nodded.

I was feeling weirdly emotional, Alexander had been a gun-running, occasionally-murdering, chain-smoking alcoholic villain, and yet, I had kind of like him. He had reminded me of my Uncle Punky. And besides, he had proposed to me, which was always nice.

'How did he die?' I asked, sniffing.

Mitchell was looking at me weirdly. Finally he said, 'official line is he died from not taking his meds. The truth is Hannibal offed him.'

'From jail?'

Mitchell shrugged, 'bars don't stop some people. Now, onto business. We appropriated you today, Miss Plum, because Ranger is due to testify to prevent Hannibal's parole.'

'So what the heck does that have to do with me? I thought we established this last time – I don't know where Ranger lives! And jeez 'appropriated'? Just say it like it is. You kidnapped me on Christmas. You're the freaking Grinch's henchmen. You know that? You work for the Grinch!'

Turns out I was still emotional, and now that I was thinking about it, I was seeing red; a nice tinsely shade of red.

'I'm supposed to be sitting with my nieces now.' My voice rose an octave, 'We're supposed to be eating fresh cookies and watching them open their freaking stockings! Instead, I'm in a room with two Christmas-stealing idiots!' They should never have let me build up steam; there was no stopping me now.

'If you had any freaking consideration you would have at least decorated the room with some tinsel, or a tree! Would a tree have killed you? Maybe some fairy lights, I'm not asking for much, but if you kidnap a girl on Christmas the least you could do is decorate the holding room properly. What the hell kind of kidnappers are you? Don't you know anything?' I was nearly screaming by the end, guess I was mad they stole my Christmas.

Mitchell and Habib were staring at me. Habib turned to Mitchell, 'She is crazy American bitch dog. Do you remember her so crazy? She is like that tv person, Crazy Mary.'

Mitchell took a deep breath and then let it out slowly, ignoring Habib.

'Untie me!' I yelled. 'Its Christmas, do I look like a freaking reindeer to you?'

Habib shrugged and turned to Mitchell, 'We have guns, there is no window. We could do sexual things.'

'No sexual things.' Mitchell said, 'remember how the wife acted when she heard that rumour about the stripper?'

Habib shuddered, 'you sleep on my floor for four nights. Never have I heard such snores. You're right, no sexual things for crazy pimbo.'

Mitchell drew his gun, 'you might as well untie her, she won't shut up otherwise.'

Habib made quick work of the complex knots and the instant I was free I got up, grabbed the chair, and hit Habib over the head with it. He went down like a sack of potatoes.

Mitchell stared at me. I stared at his gun.

'If I knock you unconscious then the wife can't be mad you missed Christmas. You can't be mad at someone in a hospital.' I pointed out to Mitchell.

He considered this, 'Ulysses will think we're incompetent.'

'Better Ulysses than your wife.'

He nodded, 'good point.' He clicked off the safety on his gun and shot into the wall beside me. 'To make it look better.' He said. I nodded; guess Mitchell had faked some crime scenes in his past.

Then I picked up the seat of the chair and whumped him round the face.

I checked his pulse, steady and strong, but he was out.

Now all I had to do was get out of here, maybe I should have asked Mitchell for directions before knocking him out. Hindsight was always an annoying bitch.

I picked up Mitchell's gun, and checked it; I still had 5 bullets left. I clicked the safety off and –

– jumped a mile high as the door was kicked down. I automatically aimed at the people barging through the door, but didn't pull the trigger when I recognised the Rangeman uniform.

'Hey.' I said to Ranger.

Ranger took in the scene with one glance, putting up his gun and gesturing to his men to do the same.

'Babe.' He said. 'They're unconscious.'

I shrugged, 'They work for the Grinch. They deserve to be unconscious. Still, can we get Mitchell to hospital? His wife will bust his balls otherwise.'

Ranger blinked, then nodded. 'Fine.' He said, he sounded amused again.

'They work for Ulysses Ramos.' I explained, 'He doesn't want you to testify.'

Ranger closed the distance between us until I could practically feel his body heat radiating off him. 'Ulysses called. Said he had you.' He kissed my neck lightly, 'you ok?'

'I missed my nieces stockings.' I said inanely, as the potential gravity of my situation finally sunk in. My family must have been so worried.

'I called.' Ranger said, 'said you were spending Christmas morning with me.'

'That would be nice.' I said, censoring the wistfulness from my voice too late.

Rangers lips curled up, 'yes.' He agreed. He tugged me the extra cm into his arms and held me.

I breathed in his unique scent and finally felt the tension ease from my body. I hugged him tightly back.

'Christmas with my family is scary.' He said, 'but you're welcome.'

I pulled back and stared at him in abject shock, 'I am?'

He looked like he was thinking about smiling, 'You in?'

'Hell yes!'

Ranger glanced round the wreck of the room one last time, 'Babe,' he said smiling fully, 'you never disappoint.'