Chapter 7—Alternate Ending A
"Simple," Walter said, showing no surprise at the question. "I noticed that your rate of being involved in car accidents is much higher than the average driver of Los Angeles. Now, one part of this is just because your work as a government agent is dangerous, and sometimes, you have to engineer a car accident. This is usually for the sake of helping us get to our target without delays."
Cabe smiled wryly as he remembered the LAX incident.
"And sometimes, the accidents are unintentional," Walter continued.
Cabe nodded, flashing back to the car chase on the Los Angeles freeway.
"Cabe," Walter said, his voice suddenly turning serious. "I was with you the last time you were in a car accident and I never forgot how I woke up and saw you bleeding from your forehead. Now, I'm not a physician and I never went to medical school, but I am a genius so I devised my own way to make sure you were okay."
"So you designed these sunglasses." It was more of a statement than a question.
"Yes, considering that you conduct most of your driving during the day and that you wear sunglasses while doing so, I engineered a pair of sunglasses which could feed off vital statistics." Here Walter took the sunglasses from Cabe and pointed out the miniscule wires running through them. "It has a trip mechanism so that if your vital statistics ever dip below a certain threshold, then it automatically dials 9-1-1 to let them know your location and critical condition. I also installed a night vision mode for when you're driving under low lighting as well."
"By God, it does," said Cabe as he put on the shades and tried different features. Then he took them off and squinted at them. "Is there any way to turn off the numbers in case they become a distraction?"
"Deactivate feed," Walter commanded and the numbers blinked out. "They will reactivate automatically if they sense your vitals going into overdrive."
Cabe took them off and rubbed his forehead. "For someone who is supposed to have a low EQ, you sure do know how to be thoughtful."
"It's practical," Walter said, as if he were stating a rebuttal to a silly argument.
Cabe smiled. Whereas others might view the gift as thoughtful, Walter thought of it in terms of practicality. The man was too pragmatic to realize when he was being considerate.
"So you're the Secret Santa," Cabe said finally.
"Actually, I'm not. Santa Claus gives out gifts to a select number of people by using arbitrary and ill-defined measures of what constitutes good and bad behavior. I, for one, gave something to everyone. However, the idea for giving out the presents was not mine so I claim no credit."
"I guessed that," said Cabe. He paused. "You're not at all curious as to how I found out it was you?"
Walter shook his head. "If someone were to look at the clues, they would be able to tell eventually. I just thought it was interesting that you were the first one to find out, although it all adds up since you've known me the longest."
"Well, I'll be damned. Never did I think that Walter O'Brien would pull off something like this."
"Neither can anyone else." Walter said, a sly and self-indulgent smile gracing over his features. "That's why it's the perfect ruse."
That night…
A woman was sitting up in bed going through a photo album when she heard a knock on her door.
"There's my curly-haired elf helper," she said, looking up from the book.
"Hi, Megan. I thought I would give out my last present."
"For me? Oh, you shouldn't have," said Megan, feigning modesty.
Walter smiled broadly, a smile he saved only for his sister, and brought out the long box tucked under his arm.
Megan unwrapped them to find a new pair of crutch supports.
"Titanium grade. I had Happy help me make them."
"Thank you!" Megan said, as she ran her fingers down the shiny new metal. Then she looked up at her genius brother, her eyes curious and sparkling. "And was this before or after they found out that you were the one behind all of the gifts?"
"That was after. They didn't take it too well."
"You want to tell me what happened?"
"Well, Happy tried to sock me in the face for scaring everybody. Sylvester couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to hug me. Toby just shook his head and said, 'It's always the one you least expect,' and Paige—"
"Kissed you on the cheek," Megan finished. Walter gave her a look. "How did you know that?"
"It doesn't take a genius to notice that you have lipstick on your face."
Walter's hand immediately flew to his face. He rubbed it self-consciously as Megan laughed.
"Come on, tell me more about it. Details, Walt," Megan said, almost bouncing up and down with excitement. She reached out her hand to him and he took it. "I want to hear all about Walter O'Brien, the world's first genius Secret Santa."
Walter sat down near her bed. "I don't know how I'm the Secret Santa considering that it was all your idea, but if you wish..." Walter began.
"I do wish," Megan said, squeezing his hand.
Walter smiled again. "All right, where do I begin? So I tried sneaking into Scorpion headquarters at daybreak this morning, but I didn't expect anyone else to show up so early so when Happy's motorcycle pulled in, I had to quickly lock the door again and hide. Then I ran around putting all the gifts in their right places, and, of course, a gift for myself so no one would suspect me, not that they would anyway..."