Some Birthday

With awareness came a sense of relief. Casino was warm and cocooned in his bed at the Mansion. He should probably get up, but the comfort kept him where he was for a few minutes longer. Damn, it had been a mess tryin' to get back to the Allied lines after their plane had been shot down.

They had bailed out practically in the middle of a war zone. It was by some miracle nobody got hurt, except for some minor bumps and bruises. Spread out, they had silently made their way west toward their own lines. At times, they had to stop and hunker down in the frigid snow and wait for German troops to pass by before moving onward. The next hurdle had been meeting Allied soldiers while dressed in parts of German uniforms. Luckily, Garrison and Actor had been able to convince them they were Americans trying to get back to England.

Taken to a tent, he, Goniff and Chief had waited for the Warden and the con man to meet with the commanding officers and make arrangements for transport to England. The three had taken seats on two cots, hunched over against the cold wind that permeated through the canvas walls and came in with a swirl of small white flakes of snow that found their way beneath the flaps that served as a door. It was another two-hour wait before they were transported by another cold truck to a makeshift air field and put on a plane that took them back to Archbury. At least they were close to home. If you wanted to call this strange mansion home, which they had begun thinking of it as.

Oh yeah, thought the cracksman from under his blankets, remembering what day this was. Happy frickin' birthday, Charlie, he thought to himself. Though the green MG was parked in front of the steps, Sister wasn't here. She had been taken off somewhere on a mission of her own. They knew there would be no sandwiches, no coffee or hot chocolate to warm their bones, with or without a shot of rum. No birthday dinner. No nuthin'. So they just tramped up to their bedrooms.

With a long sigh of disappointment and resignation, Casino slipped out from under his covers and wandered into the bathroom for a brief shower, while there was still hot water. Throwing on fatigues, he walked downstairs to the common room. There was a fire in the fireplace, and the door to Garrison's office was open, light shining out into the room.

Casino walked into the office and threw himself down in the chair facing the officer's desk. Garrison was working on what was probably his report on this last fiasco mission.

"Hey, Warden, you ever sleep?" asked the safecracker.

Garrison looked up. "Yeah, about once every six months, I think. At least that's what it feels like," admitted the officer. "By the way, happy birthday."

"Yeah, thanks," replied Casino. "Some birthday."

"Don't knock it," said Garrison with a tired grin. "At least you made it to another one."

Casino shrugged and reached for Garrison's pack of cigarettes and his lighter. "Birthday present," he said at the blond officer's raised eyebrow. "I don't suppose Terry left any food for dinner?"

"Yes, it's in the refrigerator. We just have to warm it up."

Casino lit one of the cigarettes and tossed the pack and lighter back on Garrison's desk. "I hope those bums get up soon. I'm hungry."

"I resent being referred to as a bum," said an Italian accented voice from the doorway.

Actor stepped into the room and helped himself to one of the Lieutenant's cigarettes.

"What do I look like?" grumbled Craig, good naturedly, "The Red Cross?"

Actor ignored that remark and looked at Casino. "Happy birthday."

"Yeah, thanks. Leftovers for birthday dinner," said the safecracker, still resigned.

"Teresa cooked before she left?" asked the con man with a smile.

"So says the note she left on my desk," said Garrison. "Do you think you two could go rob a bank or something? I need to finish this report."

The two men grinned.

"Which one you want we should heist, Warden? The one in Brandonshire or the maybe the Bank of England?" asked Casino.

"The Bank of England . . . ," began Actor in his lecture tone of voice.

"Yeah, yeah," Casino interrupted. "It ain't a bank we can rob."

Garrison gave a mock glare across his desk at the two of his four miscreants. "Why don't you two go fire up the stove and heat up whatever Terry left us. The other two should be down soon and I for one could use a good hot meal."

Casino stood and put out his cigarette in the ashtray on the desk. "Come on, Beautiful. I'll teach you how to heat up leftovers."

Actor eyed him going out the door. "I hardly need teaching," muttered the con man and followed him out.

Craig watched their departing backs with a grin. He had sure picked a good group out of those prisons in the States. They were amusing if nothing else.

The two men walked into the dining room and stopped with looks of suspicion at the giant roasting pan sitting upside down in the middle of the table.

"What the heck is that?" asked Casino.

"I have no idea," replied Actor. He looked at a piece of paper lying atop the bottom of the pan. "It's addressed to you. You pick it up."

The cracksman gingerly reached out and lifted the pan just enough to peek under it before flipping it off.

"It's a cake!" exclaimed Casino with a wide grin. "She made me a chocolate cake before she left!"

"And you are surprised?" scoffed Actor. "I doubt that woman forgets any of our birthdays."

Casino put the pan back over the cake. "Yeah, she's a good kid. Maybe this isn't such a bad birthday after all."

"Come on," said Actor with a shake of his head. "Let's see what she left for dinner."

With that, the two men disappeared into the kitchen.