Chapter 2

Jerry Taylor happily bounded around the bathroom as he rinsed his face with a flannel. Singing Whitney Housten at the top of his lungs, he finished cleaning his face, threw the flannel into the sink and ran out into the bedroom which was attached to the bathroom.

"Jerry!" laughed Belinda, sitting up in bed. "Calm down".

Jerry, a big smile lighting up his face, sat carefully on the bed and gave his wife a kiss.

"I can't help it", he said. "I've got a wonderful wife - " He paused and gave Belinda another kiss " - and a baby of our own coming!"

"If it lives", said Belinda ruefully.

Jerry's smile faded and he sat back next to his wife on the bed. He put a hand to her stomach and gently pushed back some of her silky brown hair from her face.

"Belinda, don't let the past get down on you", he whispered. "Of course this baby will live. You heard what the doctor said. There's a fifty- percent chance that everything will be alright".

Jerry wished that he was as confident as he sounded. The past two incidents of losing their babies had really shaken him up. But there was still plenty of time, he told himself. No need to rush it. They still had years ahead of them to be able to have children by.

"That may well be", said Belinda, breaking into his thoughts. "But there's also a fifty-percent chance that the baby will die".

"Oh, Belinda", said Jerry, gathering his wife up and hugging her.

"I wonder how Kim and Ricky will take the news?" suddenly wondered Belinda looking up at him. "I mean, we've only just told them; what will they think?"

"That's a point. I hope they understand", frowned Jerry. "I would have loved to get together for a proper announcement, but I guess the tests took up our time. And besides, Kim's been busy herself".

"Any ideas what's she's doing?" asked Belinda. "All I know is that she's got a new career, but she won't say what it is. And remember a few months ago, when she was acting all strange and sad? And then Ricky went to see her and found her gone? She appeared again just a few hours later, but wouldn't tell us where she'd been".

Jerry was silent for a moment as his wife's words sank in. For almost four months, he had been curious to know as to what his little sister was up to. He liked looking out for her and wanted to know what she was doing.

Belinda saw his look and frowned. "Jerry, I hate to sound like your mother, but Kim's old enough to look after herself. She's nearly twenty-four years old".

"I guess so", sighed Jerry. "But if you had a little sister, you'd want to look out for her".

"I'm sure I would, but look at what's happening now", Belinda replied, more softly. "We have to worry about this BABY, Jerry".

Jerry nodded.

At that moment, Belinda put a hand to her tummy, feeling a small jolt.

"He's kicking", she whispered.

"Or she", offered Jerry.

Belinda smiled.

"You know what they say: The joy is in the finding out".

*

The Cat and Mouse was a cosy coffee-house two streets away from Baker Street. Unlike other buildings the agency used, it was above ground, but not for public use. To make this point clearer, it was situated at the end of a dark (and thankfully, clean) back-alley, where the people of London could not see it.

The sign featured a cat and a mouse dressed in armour, swords at the ready, poised for attack. People made up stories about the sign, stories they liked to tell late at night in the coffee-house, while the fire burned and the other agents and trainees gathered round to listen.

Max, the owner, was a large Persian pussy-cat. He was middle-aged, and quite friendly, and was liked by everyone. Today, he was outside, sweeping up some leaves from his door.

"Afternoon, you three", he called to DM, Penfold and Kim as they approached.

"Hi, Max", said Kim glumly. Max raised an eyebrow.

"Something wrong?"

"Plenty", said Kim.

"Well, maybe some coffee with extra cream will help?" asked Max. "Suzanna, unfortunately, is serving. Good luck".

"Oh no, not Suzanna", moaned Penfold, as DM shooed him inside. "I don't like her".

Suzanna was Max's cousin. She, like Max, was a Persian, and had a beautiful dark coat. But she was rather vain, and was continuously flirting with DM whenever he came in. It drove DM mad, and it was coming to the point where he just wanted to yell at her to leave him alone.

Inside, the coffee-house had been decorated for Christmas. Two 'Merry Christmas' banners had been hung at both ends of the place. Cards surrounding a candle were hung over the fireplace. A large tree stood in the corner, glistening with baubles and with a star on top.

"Hi, DM", said Suzanna from behind the counter. She gave him a dazzling smile and tipped him a wink. DM tried not to groan.

"Hello, Suzanna", he said politely.

"One black coffee without sugar, one hot chocolate with extra cream?" smiled Suzanna. She was wearing a red strapless top and black leggings. She leaned against the counter, showing off her bare arms.

"Yes - and a coffee for Kim", said DM coolly. "Extra cream".

"Oh, yes", said Suzanna, her smile fading. She gave Kim a filthy look before turning away to pour the drinks.

Whilst DM and Kim waited at the counter for their drinks, Penfold went to find some seats. There were several couches spread around the house, and only three of them were occupied. Unfortunately, those occupied were the only ones with coffee-tables. Penfold walked over to two couches separated by a table. Sitting on one, a mole had his head buried in a newspaper.

"I say", said Penfold shyly. "I don't suppose you would mind if my friends and I sat opposite, would you?"

The mole looked over his newspaper and Penfold gasped.

"Squakencluck! What are you doing here?"

"Ah, Penfold, mein friend", smiled the Professor, rolling up his newspaper. "Sehr gut to see you, ja?"

"Yes - but what are you doing on the mainland?" asked Penfold. DM and Kim had fetched the coffee and hot chocolate from the counter, and were now coming over to see what was going on.

"Ah, I just felt like coming over to see vhat vas happening, ja?" said the Professor, gesturing for Penfold to sit down.

Penfold narrowed his eyes. The Professor didn't normally just come over for a casual visit.

"Professor!" exclaimed DM's voice before Penfold could ask any more. "This is a pleasant surprise!"

"DM, Kim", said the Professor, looking over Penfold's shoulder at him. "Sit down, sit down!"

Sitting down opposite, DM handed Penfold his hot chocolate.

"Anyvay, how are you feeling?" asked Squakencluck. "Crumhorn is here no more, ja?"

"Thank goodness", murmured DM, stirring his coffee absent-mindedly.

"And Kim!" exclaimed Squakencluck, turning to her. "Excuse me please, vhere are my manners? You are feeling fine?"

"Sort of", said Kim sadly. Her mind was replaying the meeting back in Colonel K's office. Squakencluck noticed her unhappiness and looked between her and DM.

"Something is wrong, ja?" he questioned.

"Squakencluck", said Kim suddenly. "Is there anything wrong with my appearance?"

Squakencluck looked confused. "Vith your - no, of course not. Vhy vould you be zhinking overvise? You are pretty girl, ja?"

"The agents in the force seem to think differently", said DM. He then told Squakencluck about the meeting.

"Oh dear, oh dear", frowned the Professor. "Zat is not gut, nein?"

"I don't know what to do", said Kim. "I mean, I don't want to leave. I like it here".

"Yes, yes, of course", said Squakencluck comfortingly. "Vhat I suggest, mein Kim, ist that you try and zhink about vhat is best for you"

"I guess so", frowned Kim, taking a sip of coffee. Then she stood up. "Would you excuse me - I need to go the the bathroom"

"Me too", said Penfold, standing up with her. He followed her away to the other end of the coffee-house, where the toilets were.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Squakencluck leaned across and said to DM:

"DM, are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, perfectly", replied DM, even though he knew this wasn't true. Squakencluck raised his eyebrow; he knew his friend was lying.

"Alright, you've twisted my arm", said DM, looking up and catching the Professor staring intently at him. "I'm still having those nightmares I told you about. They're there every single night. I don't know how to get rid of them".

"DM", said the Professor firmly. "You are going to make yourself sick viv all zis moping. I insist you come to Looney Island for dream therapy".

"Dream therapy?" repeated DM.

"You vill be strapped back on a machine, and zen have ze dreams vhile you are avake. Zen I can take note of the full nightmares, and treat you for zem".

"I - uh - ". DM didn't know what to say. To get rid of the dreams would be wonderful...but then all the replays of his greatest childhood memories would vanish. DM felt ashamed of himself. He knew that wanting to see Damien through his dreams was wrong, but if he couldn't have his brother by his side today, then what other alternative was there? He had loved Damien too much to let his last living memories of him go.

"DM", said Squakencluck, realising what his friend was thinking. "I know you are missing Damien terribly. So do I. But you must not be dreaming of him at night - it is not gut for your health. Damien vould not vant you to get sick mourning after him - he called you his 'strong little champion'".

Squakencluck was right, DM realised. When Damien had given DM his nickname, he had done it for a reason. Danger Mouse was the world's greatest secret agent - he wasn't some weak little mouse who kept falling over at the sign of danger.

"Yes - you're right", said DM, swallowing hard. "I'll have the therapy".

Squakencluck smiled sympathetically. "I really do miss him, DM. He vas vorth his veight in gold".

"Yes, he was", said DM, so quietly that the Professor couldn't hear him. "He really was".

At that moment, Kim returned from the bathroom, and a minute later, so did Penfold. Rather not discussing the therapy in public, DM quickly changed the subject to something else.

"Kim, tell Professor Squakencluck about your brother's news".

"Wh - oh, yes", said Kim, turning to the Professor. She told him about the pregnancy, but left out the part about the miscarriages.

"You know", suddenly interrupted Penfold. "It's a bit like the Christmas Story, isn't it? I mean, Mary was pregnant, wasn't she?"

"Yes, Penfold, she was", smiled Kim. One way or another, her little hamster friend always managed to cheer her up. Besides, in a way, what he was saying was true.

"But do you think they'll find a place to stay?" asked Penfold, frowning. "Joseph and Mary - they walked many miles, but had to sleep in a stable".

"You're right, they did", said Kim thoughtfully. "But don't worry, they'll be alright".

"Cor, 'eck, I hope so", said Penfold, before going back to his hot chocolate.

"He's right", said Squakencluck. "This iz a little like the story repeating itzelf".

The four of them talked for a while longer, until DM announced that they had better leave and get back to the pillar-box. Kim and Penfold went away to the door, but Squakencluck grabbed DM's arm as he got up to leave.

"Remember, DM, vhat I said", he hissed. "I'm not going to lie back and vatch you get ill".

DM nodded. "I'll call you later". Then he ran after Kim and Penfold, his head spinning.

Kim had waited behind for DM at the door and eyed him suspiciously as he caught up.

"DM, what was all that about? Why did the Professor grab you like that?"

"I'll tell you when we get home", whispered DM, and then ran on ahead. Kim raised an eyebrow, said "Right", to no-one in particular, and then ran after him.