THE NIGHT OF THE FROZEN MAN

By Andamogirl

WWW

PART TWO

Jim's nightmare (continuation)

Much later

Jim regained consciousness a few hours later – his wrists tied up at his back to a heavy metallic pole which was deeply embedded in the ground. His right ankle was held in a shackle attached to said pole by means of a lock at the end of a long, thick chain.

He blinked and looked around him, spotting Artie similarly restrained – and was surprised to find himself in the middle of a desert area, with sand, shrubs and rocks.

He looked at Artie again. "Artie! Wake up!"

Artemus woke up a few seconds later with his head throbbing, he felt dizzy and confused, he opened his eyes and looked around at his surroundings. "Wha…?" Grimacing in pain he said, "Oh boy, my poor head hurts... A bullet grazed my temple."

Feeling the area that got hit by the butt of the rifle pounding painfully, Jim said. "And Carmelita hit me on my head with the butt of a Winchester." He noticed that dried blood was covering the right side of his partner's face. "It's not deep and it's not bleeding anymore," he said. Then he started twisting and writhing, jerking in his restraints but got nowhere. He only managed to scrape his wrists. "I was hoping to wake up in a dungeon or something of the kind, as usual, but I'm not going to say that I'm disappointed. I'm just curious, why here?"

Smiling Artie nodded. "And what for?" What do you think Carmelita has planned for us Jim? Letting us die of thirst in the desert?"

The younger man sighed. "No, that's too simple. She's her father's daughter, remember? Miguelito Loveless's plans to kill us were very elaborate. I don't know…"

Raising his chin Artie pointed it to his left side, "Speaking of Carmelita. She's coming our way. Like you said, she's like her dad, she's going to tell us everything, Miguelito always did, he couldn't resist doing that, in order to see our reaction," he said.

Carmelita Loveless framed by two armed minions stopped in front of her two prisoners. "How are you feeling gentlemen?"

The two men remained silent.

Carmelita continued, "I'm sure that you would be very pleased to know that my father's body is still intact. I had him transferred into another room equipped like the one you destroyed. I had it built in case something might happen. It's better to be safe than sorry." She smiled and added, "You're probably both wondering what I have planned for you and why you're here?"

Silence.

She continued, "Do you remember Dr. McAllister? He was part of my father's science team a long time ago. I'm sure you do. He transformed you into a woman, Mr. Gordon."

Finally Artie reacted, "How could I forgot that?"

Breaking silence too, Jim nodded and said, "I remember him. He was working on a drug capable of de-evolving a man. It worked, but only temporarily."

Carmelita nodded. "I perfected it. The effects are permanent now. I gave you a full-dose injection of that drug when you were still unconscious. The effects should appear in a few minutes now… That's why I will leave before it happens. You see, that drug has the power to de-evolve a man – basically you will be transformed into primitive men… cavemen types that lived thousands of years ago…into beasts of men." She paused as she saw Jim and Artie exchange a very, very, worried look and then she continued. "I tried that drug on two of my men and it was fascinating. As soon as they were facing each other, they fought to be the dominant one, and the stronger won, pummeling the other to death. One died, the other lived. It means that one of you will kill the other. I bet on Jim killing you Mr. Gordon, and no offense, but you're much older than your best friend and you're not as fit as him."

It was true, even hurtful to hear that, and Artie just nodded in acknowledgement.

Frowning, looking puzzled, Jim asked, "So you planned to do this to us for a long time?"

Carmelita shook her head. "No, I didn't. I wasn't interested in you… before I met you Jim. You were my brother's obsession, not mine. When I created that drug, a few months ago, my goal was to sell it to the highest bidder, I mean to foreign countries, along with the antidote, to be very rich…"

Puzzled too, Artie said, "But I thought you were very rich…"

Carmelita shook her head. "I'm not rich enough. You see I have many projects in mind and to realize them I need a colossal fortune… And, as my brother has five doubles, they have all his money, and me nothing. So I'm not counting on it. But I don't mind. I will become richer than them, and I will have my own empire." She moved closer to Jim and kissed his lips. "Now that Michelito is dead – it's up to me to avenge my father's death…Then when you are dead, I will use that drug on a bigger scale, in the form of an odorless and colorless gas, on the population of Phoenix, to show to the world what that drug can do, and then offer it for purchase." She smiled and added, "I'd have loved to stay here watching the two of you fight each other to death… but I have more important things to do."

Jim nodded. "I'm sure you do, but your father would have stayed to be sure his plan worked."

Carmelita nodded. "My plan is going to work. I'll come back tomorrow morning – with the antidote and I know that you will be here. Those chains are indestructible. You'll be in bad shape Mr. West because Mr. Gordon will defend himself - but still alive, and your companion will be dead. I'll administer you the antidote Mr. West and then to your dead partner and you will become yourself again. After that, I'll have you chained to this pole and you'll die from thirst… all the while watching the dead body of your ex-partner decomposes at your side" She beamed in glee. "What do you think of my plan?"

Looking bored Artie let out a long sigh and replied, "Your father had a lot of better ideas to kill us. I'm somehow disappointed."

Looking disappointed Jim added, "I was expecting something extraordinary; something grandiose… but no. I don't think your father would have found this very creative. Like Artie said, Miguelito Loveless had a lot of better ideas."

Carmelita nodded. "If you want to make me angry, you failed. The effects of the drug should appear at any moment…That drug is going to alter the biochemistry of your bodies and you will both become animalistic brutes. Not a single trace of your actual mind will remain. James West and Artemus Gordon will vanish."

Suddenly Artemus groaned and threw his head back as his whole body felt on fire. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as his body was wracked with tremors. He screamed in mind-blowing pain then as his whole body started to change, de-evolving into a caveman.

Both horrified and fascinated Jim watched his best friend's face change: his skull elongated, became Low and flat. His chin and forehead sloped backwards, the nose enlarged and bony projections appeared on each side of the nose region, protruding forward. His jaw thickened, his hair lengthened hanging down around his head in thick tangles and a shaggy light beard appeared and his eyes became bigger. The rest of his body changed too: he shortened and broadened. The almost caveman threw his head back in agony, crying out and soon almost-caveman Artemus acquired large muscular shoulders, and a wider, barrel-shaped rib cage and particularly strong arms and hands. His clothes couldn't resist, and he ended up naked.

Hitting his own chest, cave-Artemus gave a great animalistic roar and looked around him with curiosity, sniffing and grunting.

Uninterested by Artie-caveman's anatomy – he was old and sagging - but because of the results of her drug, Carmelita Loveless took a step back and clapped her hands with glee like a delighted child "Good! Good! The transformation is almost complete. It's time to say goodbye to you Mr. West. I will come back tomorrow morning. See you later."

She ran in the opposite direction, followed by her minions. They mounted their horses and left at top speed in a cloud of dust.

Caveman-Artemus pulled on the ropes binding him to the pole and broke them effortlessly before taking two steps forward.

He noticed there was a shackle around his ankle and a long chain running along the sand, attached to the pole. Of course he didn't know what a pole, a shackle and a chain were.

He tried to free his ankle, but couldn't.

In his turn Jim started to change. His arms swelled first.

Caveman-Artemus looked at the other man rapidly becoming someone like him, frowning, puzzled. Then when caveman-Jim moved toward him, he growled menacingly, hitting his wide chest with a large fist and snapping his jaw to impress the other creature.

But cavemen-Jim, naked too, wasn't impressed.

Observing each other the two brutish and robust built cavemen were facing each other, every muscle tense and poised to attack.

Lips curled in a feral snarl, caveman-Artemus lurched at Jim knocking them both to the ground, tackling him and punched him to his face with hard, bone-crushing blows.

In response, caveman-Jim easily pushed his adversary back and leaped on him, before pinning him to the ground, hitting caveman-Artie multiple times in the face.

Caveman-Artie wrestled back, hitting his opponent in the ribs, knocking the wind out of him. He stood, picked up a rounded stone from the ground and rammed into caveman-Jim making him stumble backward.

He hit his adversary on the chest - who barely noticing it and he was hit on the side of his head in return, harshly.

Caveman-Jim growled and raised his fist again and punched caveman-Artemus in the face again and then he threw him to the ground.

He picked up a sharp stone.

Caveman-Artie growled and stood, baring his teeth menacingly, fingers tightening around the stone he was still holding.

The two cavemen slammed into each other, using the large stone they held, their fists, their bony forehead and their large feet to hit each other – hard, beating each other. Bones cracked, skin was scraped and cut, blood was spilled. Savage howls and screams filled the silence of the desert.

Panting, out of breath, cave-Artie collapsed on all fours to the sandy ground, spots dancing in his vision, glaring at the other creature which was standing in front of him.

He tried to break his grip, as the other caveman grabbed the back of his head, but it was like iron so he went limp, submissively going still.

Cave-Jim leaned forward and buried his nose in cave-Artie's mass of wild hair, nostrils flaring, sniffing at it, then, he reached and grabbed his bearded chin roughly causing him to flinch in pain.

He crouched in front of caveman-Artie and leaning in closer sniffed at his face and neck, inhaling deeply and then he grunted at the older caveman, releasing him.

His scent was familiar.

He dropped his stone to the ground.

WWW

The next morning

Carmelita Loveless framed by her two minions each holding a tranquilizer gun, stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted the two naked cavemen sitting in the meager shade. Caveman Artie was drawing shapes in the sand with a stick and caveman-Jim was watching.

They were covered with bruises, scratches, cuts and dried blood.

She shook his head in disbelief. "How is it possible?" She asked herself. "Mr. Gordon should be dead! And he's still alive!" she furrowed her brow, very upset. Her plan had failed. She took a deep breath to calm herself. "I need to change my plan to kill them."

Caveman Jim and Caveman Artemus stood up and growling like angry bears headed toward the intruders on their territory.

She snapped her fingers. "Fire!"

WWW

Later in Loveless's hideout

Living room

Slowly, very slowly, Jim West regained consciousness – and immediately regretted it. His whole body hurt like hell and he briefly closed his eyes, grimacing. Then he looked down at his right foot and was relieved to find it normal. He was himself again.

He finally noticed that he was sitting on a chair with his wrists tied to it at his back. He frowned trying to remember what happened when he was a caveman, but he couldn't. his transformation back into a normal man had erased his memories.

He noticed then that he wasn't naked anymore. He was wearing long johns – and he wondered who had dressed him in them.

Moving on, he looked to his right side searching for his partner and gasped in shock as he saw a severely beaten Artemus sitting on a chair beside him.

His best friend's limp head was resting on his chest. He could see that the face was badly bruised and scraped with blood oozing from his open left eyebrow. His body was covered with cuts and bruises and was caked with dried blood. He was still passed out and he too was wearing long underwear.

He paled "Oh God, Artie! What did they do to you?"

Carmelita Loveless flanked by her two henchmen suddenly appeared in Jim's line of vision. He glared at her and groaned angrily. "You had Artemus tortured!"

Carmelita shook her head. "No I didn't. You're responsible for your best friend's actual state, Jim, or at least the caveman-type version of you. But you don't remember anything, that's normal. You weren't exactly yourself while beating up Mr. Gordon."

Surprised, then feeling awful, Jim blinked as all color drained from his face. "What?"

She looked at Artie then and added, "You're not in good shape either Mr. West, you too have been badly beaten, but you're younger than Mr. Gordon and more resilient. After I transformed you into cavemen you and Mr. Gordon fought hard against each other, like I hoped you would – and if your body is now the original one, the injuries you sustained as cavemen are still there." She moved toward Artie, still unconscious, lifted his chin and continued, "I was very surprised to discover that Mr. Gordon was still alive – and sitting at your side, like two friends would."

Jim nodded. "Well, Artie and I are a bonded pair. We can't hurt each other. I killed him once, it's true - but it was in a drug induced hallucination – a drug that your father had put into my shaving water. It wasn't real, so it doesn't count. I will never harm a single hair of Artie's head. He's like my own brother. Artie feels the same for me. That's why the cavemen-us became friends."

Carmelita slapped Artie's face until the older man opened his eyes with a mewling whimper. "Welcome back Mr. Gordon. How are you feeling? Dying I hope?"

Artemus blinked slowly both confused and disoriented. "What?" he breathed then he groaned and started coughing and spitting bubbly blood.

Seeing that Carmelita said coldly, "I think you have a few broken bones in your ribcage…and you're bleeding inside," And she was visibly pleased at it. She ignored Artie's black look and continued, "If you still were a strongly built caveman you would survive your severe injuries, but as a normal man, you won't. But it should take a few hours before your demise." She pointed at the table where two tranquilizer guns and a box filled with blue and red darts were sitting. "I could transform you into a caveman again and save your life that way, because that kind of primitive man is very resilient – until you heal… to be able to kill you in another way, something more creative, but I won't waste my time doing it because you're not important, you're just Jim's sidekick. I'll reserve it for Mr. West."

Scowling, Artie rasped, "Thanks for the compliment, that's nice."

Looking at his partner Jim said, "Don't listen to her Artie, she's like her father spitting venom."

Carmelita's blue eyes briefly flashed in anger then she replied, "I had to change my plan to kill you both, and I had time to prepare something very inovative especially for you, Jim… but I won't tell you what, I don't want to spoil the surprise." She snapped her fingers and immediately the two minions untied the ex-agents. "Follow me gentlemen. I need to show you something."

Barely standing on their own feet, swaying, Jim and Artie followed the young woman – the younger man supporting his best friend, an arm wrapped around his waist and after what felt like a minute or two, they entered into the next room and were very surprised to discover a machine-filled laboratory.

She smiled proudly and gestured toward the caisson where her father was conserved. "He's fine. You didn't damage him."

Jim shook his head. "He's not fine, he's dead."

Artemus gave Carmelita a tired smile. "Yes he is, and he'll stay dead. Like my Aunt Maud always says, "the shorter, the better…" and he parted from Jim.

Blanching Jim froze and a shiver ran down his spine. He shook his head. "No don't…" He said warily, knowing that when Artie quoted his no-existent aunt Maude it was a code for action.

But Artemus did what he had in mind, his heart pounding in his chest, knowing that he would probably die. But it has to be done.

He whirled around, nearly losing his balance, and mustering all his meagre strength left, he punched the shorter goon standing behind him, right in his solar plexus.

He grabbed the minion's gun as the other man landed hard on his knees, wincing, and pointed it at the second henchman. But he was too slow and found himself at the wrong end of a revolver. "I'm too old for this' he thought and closed his eyes – ready to die.

The minion squeezed the trigger and fired, point-blank.

BANG.

Carmelita took one step forward and said, "No! Don't do that!" but it was already too late.

Hit square in his chest, Artie cried out in pain, the impact knocking him from his feet. He landed in a crumpled heap to the carpeted floor, blood reddening the top of his rose-colored long johns, a darkened gaping hole between his ribs.

Jim's felt the blood drain from his face. "Artie!"

He punched the second minion and sent him flying across the room. The other man hit the wall, falling to the floor. He lay there, unconscious.

He rushed to grab the henchman's Colt and pointed it at Carmelita. "On your knees! Hands behind you head!" he commanded and seeing that the young woman didn't obey, he fired at the porthole of the caisson. There was a hiss as pressurized gas escaped from a hole in the side.

Carmelita let out a horrified "Nooooo!" Then her soft features twisted in rage, and teeth bared, she said, "You'll pay for this!"

His face like carved in marble, Jim said, "Do it!"

But she didn't and moved toward the caisson. "You're going to pay for this!" She said, glaring at Jim – and she pulled a Derringer from the right pocket of her jacket.

She pulled the trigger and missed. Jim fired back and missed her too – doing it deliberately. He didn't want to kill her, but capture her.

But the bullet hit the caisson again. This time the thick glass exploded and, in a matter of seconds all the pressurized very cold air stored inside leaked out… and enveloped Carmelita in a cloud of ice crystals – and soon she was transformed into a statue of ice. She remained motionless, blue eyes opened wide in surprise – but not seeing anything, anymore.

Carmelita died in instantaneous freezing, becoming frozen solid to the core and Miguelito Loveless started defrosting slowly.

Kneeling on the ground, Jim blanched when he saw the amount of blood pooling around his best friend. He gently cradled Artie's head in his lap "Artie!"

Regaining consciousness Artemus opened his eyes and saw his best friend's face close to his. "Jim… you alright?" he asked before grimacing in terrible pain.

The younger man nodded. "I'm fine. What did you do that Artie for?"

Blood escaping from his lips, a slight smile on his graying features, Artie said, "I was dying already… y'know bones smashed… pierced lung…internal bleeding…bullet or not, it didn't matter to me. I wanted to give you an opportunity… to end all this, and you did." He noticed Carmelita Loveless's immobile figure covered with a thick layer of ice and blinked. His vision blurred as he felt light headed. "Wha-what happened to Carmelita? Is she dead?"

Jim nodded. "Yes she is. She froze to death. Her machine killed her." He looked down at the gaping hole in Artie's chest. Blood was gushing from it. "Don't die Artie, please," he said feeling totally helpless. Tears were pooling in his eyes.

His eyes teary too Artemus placed his shaking hand on Jim's arm. "I think… I think this is it for me, Jim". His voice was barely a whisper. He coughed blood and groaned. "Oh boy! that hurts! Aaah!" Feeling his vision fade away, he closed his eyes, too tired to keep them open any longer. "It was fun… while it lasted, wasn't it Jim? See ya in the…"

He went limp.

Shaking his head, Jim leaned forward, taking Artie's limp hand in his. "Don't die on me, Artie," he whispered, crying softly and he suddenly remembered what Carmelita had said a few minutes before: 'I could transform you into a caveman again and save your life that way, because that kind of primitive man is very resilient – until you heal…' "Yes! That's the solution!" He said, grinning as tears still rolled down his stubbled cheeks. He stood and bolted into the living room and took a tranquilizer gun and two darts, one red, one blue. Then he headed back toward his dying best friend. He placed the red dart in the gun and fired – targeting Artie's neck. The drug rapidly spread through his whole body.

Grabbing the other man's hand he said, "Hold on, Artie! Let's hope I chose the right dart. If it works, you're going to have a chance to live."

Bubbling blood came to Artie's pale lips and he slurred, "It's been… a priv… privilege to… Thank you, Jim. Thank you for… Jim… I'm so cold… I don't feel so good… I think gonna…"

Jim smiled when he saw his best friend's face change rapidly taking on the distinguishing physical traits of the caveman. "It works! It was the right dart. Then the blue contains the antidote. Everything's going to be okay buddy."

Artie continued to de-evolve again.

Once he was a primitive bulky and thick-shouldered brute again, he stood up, oblivious to his chest wound and bleeding, and his first reaction was to bare his teeth – in an animalistic way, like a predator, amidst a mass of dark curled locks and thick beard – and growl like an upset bear awaken during his hibernation period. Then he lunged forward, grabbing Jim's arm in a crushing vice-like grip, growling dangerously.

Jim lifted his free hand in a peaceful gesture. "It's okay, it's me." He moved closer. "Just recognize my scent buddy. I need to stay intact in order to save you."

The caveman leaned into Jim's personal space, sniffing his head and his neck. He recognized his companion's scent - Jim smelled familiar - but he didn't recognize his now 'flat' face - and he frowned, puzzled and then released Jim's arm.

Jim rubbed his sore's arm. "Thanks, I need my arm intact to send a telegram to Washington. Carmelita probably has a telegraph key here somewhere. Then I'll contact our bureau in Phoenix. You and I need to go to the hospital there. You stay here, okay?"

He was moving toward the door when he noticed that the caveman was following him, looking around him in both curiosity and fright.

Jim sighed. "You have to stay here, you have a chest wound buddy… you need to sit and wait for me. You're bleeding a lot." He pointed at the gaping hole. "See?"

Lowering his head caveman Artie looked down and saw blood spilling from a gaping hole in his chest.

He groaned, not in pain but in curiosity, not knowing what it was and put a finger inside. This time he winced and then licked his blood-covered finger.

Understanding the primitive man's reaction Jim nodded. "Of course… it's the first time that you've seen a bullet wound… or a wound, and blood."

The caveman put his hand to his bloodied chest then placed it on Jim's bare chest, leaving a bloodied imprint on the other man's chest. Then the Neanderthal let out a low rumble and pulled Jim into a crushing embrace before releasing him with a large smile.

Smiling too Jim placed his palm on the caveman's broad chest in a return gesture. "You marked me as your buddy? Okay. I mark you as mine too, less the blood. Alright. You want to come with me? Okay, I could use your brute strength in case we meet Carmelita's' minions."

The caveman gave a small grunt.

Looking at the frozen figure of Carmelita transformed into a statue of ice, then at the caisson containing Miguelito Loveless's defrosting body, he said, "Rest in peace."

WWW

Much later, in the Phoenix hospital

Dr. Harry Rosenblatt shook Jim's shoulder. "Wake up Mr. West!"

Opening his eyes, Jim yawned and said, "I fell asleep…" He rubbing his tired eyes and stretched in his uncomfortable chair.

The physician nodded. "Yes you did. You should be in your bed, Mr. West. Let me remind you that you're a patient here and not a visitor."

Looking at Artie lying in the bed, sleeping peacefully – and who was normal again – Jim replied, "I know, but I wanted to be with Artie."

Rosenblatt nodded again. "The operation was a success. He's going to be fine. You did the right thing in transforming your friend into that primitive man again. You saved his life in doing so. During the transformation the bullet moved along with his bones and muscles, moving away from the heart region." He smiled. "It was a first for my assistants and me. I never had a caveman on my table before. Don't worry, he's fine. He'll stay here till the end of the week, recovering, and then l will release him." He pointed at the bed which was standing on the other side of the room. "Now go to bed, you need rest."

Looking at Artie who was sleeping in a comfortable bed, nestled in blankets, Jim said, "I'd like to stay here with him."

Seeing that Jim was reluctant to leave his best friend's bedside, he removed the brakes on Jim's rolling bed and rolled it so it was next to his partner's. "Now go to bed – that's an order."

Smiling Jim complied this time and heaved a long sigh. Then he asked, "Did you take care of Carmelita's and her father's bodies?"

The old man nodded. "Yes I did. In fact, Director Malone had them transferred here, into the morgue. They arrived this morning. They will be buried this afternoon in the local cemetery under different names, as your superior asked for."

Jim nodded. "Yes, it's a good idea." 'So that the five replicas of Loveless Jr. didn't find them, and try somehow to preserve their bodies, or try to bring them back to life ... thinking about what Dr. Faustina did years ago with executed prisoners.'

The doctor said, "And don't worry, I will keep the story you told me secret."

Jim nodded. "Thank you, doctor."

Pulling out two pieces of paper and a letter from the pocket of his white coat the doctor said, "I've got two messages for you, one from Director Malone, one from President Cleveland and a letter… addressed to Mr. Artemus Gordon."

He gave them to Jim. "I'll come back later, try to rest, alright?"

Rosenblatt left the room.

He read with pleasure the congratulatory messages and taking the letter, looked at it. It was just addressed "to Mr. Artemus Gordon" on the envelope. He recognized a woman's elegant writing. "Penelope? Let's hope it's not a goodbye letter from her…"

Smiling he placed it on Artemus's bedside table. Glancing a last time at his partner safe and sound, he closed his eyes.

WWW

Later

Jim opened his eyes two hours later and turning his head to his left he saw that Artie was awake and looking at him. "Hi Artie!"

Artie smiled. "Hiya Jim. It would seem that I'm still alive. Dr. Rosenblatt came a few minutes ago and told me everything. Thank you Jim, you saved my life again."

The younger man chuckled. "You're welcome." He noticed the empty envelope on the bedside table and the three-page letter in his best friend's hand. "A long letter from a secret admirer?"

Artemus shook his head. "No, it's a letter from Penelope. She wrote it before she… left for England with the Queen. She told me that she won't be coming back. She's been assigned as Her Majesty's personal bodyguard as a reward for her actions on the last mission. It's a great honor." He smiled weakly finding Jim frowning in deep concern. "I'm okay, really." He patted his arm reassuringly and smiling said, "I'm okay, don't worry, it's not the first time I lost a potential girlfriend. My heart is still in one piece, Jim."

Jim nodded. "Okay." He furrowed his brow and said, "You know I still don't remember why I was mad at you… but I'm sure it has something to do with a woman or with women…"

Sighing Artie closed his eyes and yawned. "Isn't it always? Women and trouble form a pair… Women are trouble… and we always have trouble with women…"

He fell asleep, the letter still in his hand.

WWW

The reality

The Wanderer, Virginia City

Jim woke up with one foot off his bed. He sat up, realizing that he was covered in a light sheen of cold sweat, and had vivid images still in his mind.

Light headed, he took in his surroundings – okay, he was sitting in his bed, in his sleeping compartment – he could see rays of light coming from the window on each side of the blind. It was morning. He closed his eyes and sighed in relief. "It was a nightmare," he whispered as relief flooded through him.

He stood, stretching out his muscles and then he left the small room to enter the darkened parlor car a few seconds later.

He sat on the edge of the silk brocade couch where Artie, rolled in a ball like an oversized cat was sleeping soundly and snoring loudly.

He gently nudged his partner's arm. "Wake up Artie, rise and shine!"

Artemus's eyelids fluttered and he stirred, and he slowly woke up from his slumber with a pitiful groan. He cracked open an eye, shifting on the couch.

He closed it immediately and grumbled something that sounded a lot like "go to hell".

Chuckling Jim nodded. "Good morning to you too. I'm going to prepare a lot of strong coffee, I think you'll need it, buddy." He opened all the blinds and golden light flowed inside the parlor car. "You should wake up before I start preparing breakfast. You don't want me to set fire to the galley, right? Come on old man!" Then he headed toward the dresser.

The older man finally opened his blood-shot eyes, suppressed a curse as the light hit them and moaned in pain as a massive headache assaulted him. It was as if his head was being squeezed in a vice. His whole body was sore – because he had slept on the couch too small for his frame - his mouth was dry as cotton and was tasting foul, he was dizzy and feeling nauseous too. "Oh God… what kind of stiff rot gut whiskey did I drink?"

His stomach was rolling queasily so he very carefully maneuvered himself into a sitting position to avoid the expulsion of his digested dinner.

He couldn't help but to choke on the urge to throw up. But he didn't – for now, he thought to himself.

He scrubbed at his face with his hands and then took a bleary look around the room. "Wanderer… home…" And what happened last night surfaced in his clearing old noggin'. "Ya, I have a horrible hangover…" Taking a deep breath, he buried his stubbled face in his hands, before running one through his hair sticking up every-which-way. "Oh boy… I feel like I'm 100, ran a marathon and lost." Then he rubbed at his aching and throbbing temples in a circular motion as he tried to cease the drums playing in his head – and failed.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up, his baggy eyes adjusting to the light. Jim was holding a glass of water with a dissolving orange powder in it. "I've got you some painkiller for the hangover. Drink! You'll feel better after that." He smiled. "People aged 100 don't participate to marathons, buddy. Just reading the newspaper is a too big an effort for them."

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Artemus reached out to take the glass and took a small sip. His stomach immediately rebelled. But fortunately for him it stayed where it was. But a wave of sudden cramps attacked right after. "Thank you," he croaked, his mouth sticky and his throat still parched. "Oh boy, I feel so bad…I think I might be dying," he said the words strained.

Jim took the glass of orangey water back. "You're not dying. You have a hell of a hangover – and you look like hell too."

Artemus's clothes were rumpled and his hair was in disarray. He was sporting a morning stubble and his puffy eyes were black-circled. "And I feel like hell too," he rasped.

Blinking slowly at Jim, Artie noticed that the other man was a bit pale and looked tired and bleary-eyed. Curious he asked, "Had a bad night? You were drunk too?"

Jim sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair. "I had one hell of a nightmare last night… it was so real, well it looked so real. Sometimes I was you, then I was me… I had two different perspectives… For example, I was you, dying, then I was me, at your side…I'll tell you about it later. For now you need cups of restorative coffee. Let's head to the galley, old man."

His stomach twisting and turning, Artemus struggled to stand up. He nearly threw up. He gritted his teeth to avoid it.

He hiccupped and swayed to his feet, his legs like soaked cotton balls. "Don't feel so good…" And he slumped on the couch, his face greenish. "I swear to never touch a single drop of alcohol again…" And he gagged and he gagged again, swallowing bile.

Knowing what would come next, inevitably, Jim made a beeline to the galley – settling the glass he was holding on the table - and came back to the parlor car in record time, holding a basin.

Gripping it, Artie threw up. And then threw up again, and again while Jim was rubbing his heaving shoulders soothingly. "Sorry," he rasped before a final spit into the bowl.

Placing the bowl with the vomit on the coffee table, Jim asked, "Feeling better?" And saw his best friend nod, his face red and his eyes teary.

Taking his partner's shoulder to help him up, Jim said, "What you need is a long shower." He put an arm around his best friend, steadying him as they walked toward the door opening to the corridor.

But Artemus didn't go very far. "I'm gonna sit down," he said, and he collapsed heavily on a chair; He rested his head on the table, sideways and let out a long sigh. "Dying," he whispered, with a grim expression.

Smiling, Jim said, "I'm going to bring the pot of coffee here, buddy. You'll be better soon."

Immobile, closing his eyes, Artie rasped, "Good idea. I'm going to stay here all day long, drowning myself in coffee, I don't care if it's yours."

Jim made a round-trip to the galley, bringing a pot of fresh coffee and two cups to the parlor car five minutes later. "Here Artie, drink some coffee." He poured one and slid it close to his best friend's nose. "Well, it's not as good as yours, but I tried to make it acceptable."

Lifting his pounding head, Artie winced, let out a pained grunt, and then took a sip of the thick and ultra-bitter beverage and grimaced. "Gaaah! Acceptable? Jim there's acceptable and there's… that horrible thing. But it's strong and I need it to stay awake –, so I'm not complaining." He took three swallows then put the empty cup on the table. Then he rubbed his pounding forehead. "I'm never drinking again."

Taking his place on a chair beside his best friend Jim poured himself a coffee, took a sip and then said, "As you know I had a nightmare last night. It was really… interesting. It involved Carmelita, her dead father and you and I being transformed into cavemen, fighting each other to death. Carmelita's doing by the way."

Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Artie took a new sip of coffee and then said, "Really? We were cavemen? Let me guess. You won."

Jim nodded. "Do you remember what Loveless Jr. told us about you and I being, I quote, 'throwbacks to caveman types'?"

Artie nodded. "Yes, and you built a big part of your nightmare around that. Fortunately nothing of that really happened."

Jim shook his head. "Fortunately, yes. And those dark cells underground in Junior's hideout inspired me too. I dreamed that Loveless Sr; had kidnapped you two weeks after you retired and locked you in a mental hospital, treating you like a caged animal, no worse."

Smiling Artemus said, "Two weeks after I retired, I was in the Comanche reservation and I stayed there for a year."

Jim nodded. "I know. He paused and added, "After 6 months you completely lost your mind and you humanity. You became an animal. Loveless had broken you, he had killed you. You could have died there – buried alive – if Lily Fortune hadn't found you – well, the private detective working for her did, and released you. She was searching for me since my kidnapping. She brought you to her home in New Orleans, and with time and love, you became a man again. Little by little Artemus Gordon came back."

Artemus smiled again. "Fascinating! I must say that you have a vivid imagination, Jim. Dreams are often influenced by real life, by events that occurred the day before or days before," he said. He took a sip of coffee, reluctantly and continued, "You were quite fond of Carmelita, so she appeared in your nightmare – and as she is a Loveless and as you didn't trust her, she became the villain of your bad dream. It's simple."

Jim nodded. "Yes, simple. By the way how's Lily Fortune? If I ask you this it's because she was dead in my nightmare."

Artie took a new sip of what Jim called coffee, grimaced again and said, "Oh she's fine. She was in Paris last month playing in Shakespearean plays at the Comédie Française." He paused, rubbing one eye. "What other horrible things happened in your nightmare?"

Jim chuckled. "You know Artie, you're rubbing off on me. I put some technological inventions in my nightmare, like cryonics and geothermal energy…"

More than surprised Artie replied, "Really? That means that you * actually * listened to me when I told you about them after we left that desert?"

Crossing his arms, Jim looked falsely affronted. "I'm always listening to you when you go all technological. In my nightmare, Carmelita used those technologies to preserve her father's dead body, in hopes of resuscitating him in the future using a more highly advanced technology."

Pouring himself a cup of coffee Artie nodded. "Cryogenic technology as the scientists call it doesn't exist, yet. I told you it will, one day, I'm sure. I remember telling you this after I read an article in a newspaper after we left that desert about a child in Montana who was revived after several hours in a near-freezing lake. The extreme cold had slowed down his metabolic functions and allowed him to survive without oxygen… As for the geothermal energy, I told you about that a long time ago, before we headed to that spa in Hot Springs – where we met Miguelito Loveless and Dr. Arcularis's son, Lyle, remember?"

Jim nodded. "I remember, yes."

Briefly closing his eyes, Artemus stretched and yawned. "I'm going to take a shower – a long, shower, no, a long bath. Then I'll prepare breakfast as I don't want to be poisoned."

Rubbing his chin pensively, Jim said, "Loveless Sr. is dead, Loveless Jr. is dead too, Carmelita is not a threat… I think. But what about Junior's five doubles?"

Scratching his head, messing up his wild hair a little more, Artie snorted. "It's pure invention. That man is… was so in love with himself and thought he was unique – that he would never had created replicas of himself – and I signed on for one mission only, and it's over! See you later, Jim."

WWW

Later in the galley

Dressed in an open white shirt - the sleeves rolled up to his elbows - and black pants, barefoot and unshaven, his hair combed but still wet, Artemus was preparing the filling for the crepes he would make after that.

Standing in front of the stove, he was caramelizing pieces of apples in a frying pan, stirring them gently with a wooden spatula.

Dressed too, in his impeccable blue suit with a perfect silk green cravat- and wearing an apron, Jim was sitting on a stool, helping his best friend by making batter for the very thin French pancakes.

Following Artie's instructions, in a large bowl, he had mixed the sugar and salt, had added the eggs and stirred them with a fork. Then he had added melted butter and mixed. He had finally poured in the milk and now he was slowly stirring the whole preparation.

Looking up at Artie, who had placed another frying pan on top of the stove, Jim said, "It's ready, and it's perfect," with self-satisfied expression on his face.

Smiling Artemus poured a little Grand Marnier into the pan and flambéed the pieces of completely soft apple coated with caramel. Then he slid the caramelized pieces of apple, almost puréed onto a plate and then he settled the hot frying pan on a trivet on the table. He took the bowl containing the batter and said, "You'll soon be able to make crepes alone, Jim."

Pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee, Jim said, "I'm sure Juanita and the children will love crepes! But I think I'm going to burn a hundred crepes before I get an acceptable one, I'm not good at cooking." And he watched his best friend brush the frying pan with butter. He smiled and added, "I forgot to thank you for making crepes for breakfast."

Pouring a ladle of batter into the center of the frying pan, Artie replied, "You're welcome, and you dreamt about eating crepes, so you want to eat crepes, right?"

Nodding, Jim said, "Yes," and he stood, holding his steaming mug, moving toward his ex-partner. "It was a hell of a dream."

Focused on his task, the older man tilted the frying pan to spread the thin batter evenly until it covered the entire bottom of the skillet. "Fortunately; nothing happened. It was just a bad dream. You have to forget all that," he said.

Jim took a sip of coffee. "You're right, but some images are staying in my head as others are fading or are already gone. For example I still can see Loveless lying in his caisson, dead and frozen… and you as a caveman, wounded and bleeding."

Still busy with the crepe, Artie nodded. "They will vanish too, with time." When the edge of the crepe peeled off easily and began to brown, being fried in butter, he flipped it.

Suddenly the door of the galley opened and Penelope entered the small room, smiling. "Mmm, it smells good," she said. She moved toward Artemus and gently stroked his stubbled cheek. "Good morning Artemus," she said and looked down at the crepe bronzing in the frying pan. "I love sweet crepes."

Smiling, Artie replied, "Everyone loves sweet crepes." He kissed the young woman back, on her lips. He reached out, his hand skimming down Penelope's cheek. "You're beautiful."

In response Penelope peppered tiny fluttery kisses along Artie's strong jawline. "And you're a handsome man," she said. She moved her lips along Artemus's chin to his throat – eliciting a moan from him, then she paused there, nibbling just below the Adam's apple. "I missed you."

Another moan escaped the older man's lips. "I missed you too."

They leaned in and their eyes fluttered closed as their lips connected.

Penelope's hands wrapped around Artie's neck, slowly running her fingers through his hair still a bit wet, tousling it playfully.

Smiling, Artemus dropped the ladle in the bowl full of liquid crepe batter took Penelope in his arms and kissed her again. It was more intense and passionate this time.

Penelope let out a low sigh of contentment and responded moving her lips against Artemus's, running a hand up his back, smiling into the kiss.

Rolling his eyes, Jim asked, "Focus on the crepe Artie! I'm hungry! Kisses can wait, breakfast can't." He paused and asked, "Is the President coming back to the Wanderer too?"

Penelope nodded, watching the man she had fallen in love with pull away from her and set the first crepe aside on a plate. "Yes, he's on the rear platform, saying goodbye to the Governor."

Glaring at Jim for the interruption, Artie poured a second ladle of batter in the center of the frying pan. "I think we'll need more crepe batter, Jim."

Sitting on a stool, Penelope rolled up the sleeves of her dress and then asked, "Can I have a go Jim? I think there are enough ingredients on the table to make a second round of batter."

Complying, Jim pulled out a large bowl from the dresser and settled it on the small table in front of Penelope and then he took a pot of strawberry jam from it.

Using a little spoon, he asked, "Do you like strawberry jam, Penelope?" She nodded, so he spread the strawberry jam on the cooling first crepe. "The first one is for you." He placed the plate on the table, in front of the ex-British intelligence agent.

She smiled. "Thank you, Jim," and then she broke two eggs in the bowl. "Do you have some chocolate? I think the President likes crepes filled with chocolate."

The end.