Chapter 9—Alternate Ending C
Author's Note: I wrote this ending for one of my guest readers, who requested a story with lots of Waige and Quintis. It ended up being much longer than I originally intended, but I don't think anyone will mind. :)
Walter smiled. Barely. It was not perceptible to anyone but those who knew him well, but Cabe knew him pretty well. "I'll tell you why I got you the sunglasses if you tell me why you got me those blueprints," he said.
Cabe smiled, too. "Fine then. I will." He retrieved the blueprints and laid them out on the table. "You remember that friend you helped on Sunday? The one who needed a security software update?"
Walter nodded.
"Well, that woman also happens to hold security clearance and full access to some of the most sophisticated bio-technology in the nation. After we helped her, I took her aside and asked for a favor in getting you these. I thought they would help in your research with Cabe, Jr."
Walter scanned the blueprints, his eyes roaming intelligently over its layout and design. In mere moments, everything began to make sense. That's what they are, he thought, taking them up in his hands. After a silence, he lowered the blueprints and said, "Thank you, Cabe. You don't know how much this means to me."
"Actually, I can venture a guess. You've been doing research on that mouse for God knows how long." Here, he stopped and his voice lowered a notch. "And I know how much your sister means to you. You're my son and that means I value Megan as if she were my own daughter. It's the least I could do."
Walter stared down at the table and smiled. Cabe really did know how to be a good father figure to him.
"Now, if you'll kindly explain about the sunglasses," Cabe prompted, holding them up. "I figured that it was you, and I understand why you chose sunglasses, but…why the vital statistics?"
"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. I did make you the sunglasses, but most of these gifts are not from me. I just don't know who would have the motive, opportunity, and means to sneak in all of them." Walter wrinkled his forehead as a thought suddenly occurred to him. "Unless…"
"Unless what?"
"Unless, it was more than one person…"
That night, Paige had surprised them all with a sumptuous Christmas dinner. "Prepared in the style of an Irish dinner," she stated.
Everyone gawked at the scene which Paige had carefully laid out. One of the larger rooms had been cleared to accommodate a banquet table covered with a festive green tablecloth and lined with silver plates. The tabletop was illuminated with tall candles and decorated with holly. The food, however, the food was what took their breath away.
"Scalloped potatoes and stuffed goose, smoked salmon and roast vegetables, Irish cheese and soda bread, plum pudding and scones with cream ," Walter murmured, not believing his eyes.
"Someone's been doing their research," mumbled Toby, laughing quietly.
"I picked up a few things working at the diner," Paige said. "The rest took a bit of work and, like you said, research," Paige said, clearly proud of what she had done. When everyone remained standing and staring at her handiwork, she cleared her throat. "If everyone will wash their hands and take a seat, I will be with you shortly."
"Where are you going?" asked Walter. "Aren't you going to join us?"
"Oh, I will," answered Paige. "I'm just going to change into my Christmas present first. I have a feeling that whoever gave it to me has been dying to see me in it," she grinned, her eyes glittering as she left the room with the emerald dress over one arm.
"Really? You think Paige knows who it is?" asked Sylvester.
"Well, whoever it is must know Paige well. Really well…" Happy remarked.
Hours later, when everyone had eaten their fill, Paige came up to whisper in Walter's ear, "Thank you for the dress. I love it."
Walter sputtered, the spoon of plum pudding quivering halfway to his mouth. "How did you—"
"Who else has ever held me when I was wearing a dress?" Paige said simply, her eyebrows waggling devilishly.
Walter felt a slight blush creep onto his face and was thankful that the others had left the room. "Hey," he said, catching her hand as she moved away. "Thank you for making Christmas dinner for us. It's the best I've ever had."
"You're welcome," Paige said, smiling so brightly that she seemed to glow. Walter felt his stomach do something similar to a somersault and he had a strange feeling it had nothing to do with the food.
"I was thinking of taking some food to Megan." Paige said, breaking through his thoughts. "What do you think?"
"I think she would love that," Walter said, getting up to help her. His last thought as he rose from the table consisted of, I wonder what Megan would think if Paige and I were to….
Happy found Toby in the other room, watching Sylvester and Ralph play with Tweety. "Thanks for the motorcycle boots," she remarked as she sat down next to him. Toby stiffened. His head turned towards her mechanically. Happy laughed. "After thinking about it all day, I realized that no one has seen my feet before except for you, so…thanks for the boots."
Toby finally nodded. "Thanks for the hat," he said in reply.
"You're welcome," Happy smiled, showing no surprise at the remark. "I thought it would suit you." She handed him a beer. "I also wired it with a tracking device in case you get hung over another balcony or take a tumble down a ravine again. It's embedded in the band and wasn't the easiest thing for me to seal in so don't lose it," Happy said, jabbing a finger pointedly into Toby's chest. To her surprise, Toby wrapped his hand around her fingers and pressed them into his shirt.
"I would never lose anything you gave me, Happy," he said, his eyes soft but serious.
Happy felt her face grow warm. "You better not," she huffed, trying to deflect her feelings as well as Toby's unspoken meaning.
Toby sensed her discomfort, but couldn't help pulling her toward him. "I mean it," he said. "You know that I love hats so you cared enough to get me a new one when I kept losing mine. Not only that, you went to extra lengths to make sure I wouldn't lose this one. Which means it's important to you. I promise I'll take care of it." Toby could feel Happy squirming under his gaze so he finally decided to let her off the hook. "Of course, giving me a hat feels almost as good as when you gave me your heart."
Happy's look of discomfort was rapidly replaced with one of fury and indignation. Ah, there's the Happy I know and love, thought Toby.
"You're off your rocker, doctor. It's a stupid hat, not my heart," Happy scoffed, attempting to extract her hand from his grasp. "Are you ever going to let go of my hand?" she snapped, trying to sound irritated when she really just felt mounting anxiety.
"Nope," Toby said, as he placed the hand to his heart. "Besides, you touched me first."
"I was trying to make a point. Now let go of me before my other hand forms a fist and quickly finds the side of your face."
Toby chuckled, raised Happy's hand to his face, and pressed his lips against it before he finally let go. The psychiatrist smiled as he enjoyed watching a slight tremor run through Happy before he released her.
The mechanic swiftly took her hand back and jammed it underneath her jacket to keep Toby from seeing it shake. She took a swig of beer to calm herself before she said, "I think Sylvester likes the bird you got him."
Toby stared ahead at their genius friend who was trying to whistle to Tweety, hoping the bird would sing with him. "I hope so. It's the least I can do after I crashed his Birdroni." He glanced at her quickly. "What about those forearm crutches you made for Megan?"
"I just got off the phone with her. She loved them. She also loves the butterflies you put on them. That was a good idea."
"Thanks," Toby said, taking a swig from his beer. "You think Walter's mad that we went behind his back and did Secret Santa anyway?"
"I don't see why he would be mad. He gave away some gifts himself."
"Yes, I guess he's the pot and we're the kettle."
"And it brought him and Paige closer together."
"How could it not? Walter got her a dress which he knew would be perfect for her, especially since Paige doesn't have much formal wear. I just wonder if she'll wear it when they go out on that date they've both been dancing around."
"So you picked up on that, too?"
"Happy," Toby said, a mock serious look coming over his face. "You're speaking to a world-class shrink here. I wouldn't live up to my reputation if I didn't pick up on stuff like that."
Happy sniffed. "If you're such a good shrink, then how come you can't get them together?"
"I'm a clinical psychologist, not Cupid. My license and diploma says 'psych doctor', not 'love doctor.' Besides, you never push people before they're ready."
"Then how come you push me so much?"
Toby finished up the last of his beer. "That's because you want me to, you just won't admit it to yourself."
This time, Happy's hand really did find the side of his face. Toby yelped in pain as she yanked on his ear and brought him down to meet her blazing eyes.
"Stop reading me, you crazy shrink," Happy growled. She meant it to sound threatening, but Toby could tell that, in reality, she just felt sad. Raw and vulnerable. Even a little shy.
Because of this, he just remained staring into her eyes, holding her gaze. It was like he was saying, It's okay. I'm here for you. No matter how much pain you inflict or how much you push me away, no matter how often you run or how high you build your walls, I will still be here…always. He communicated all of this with his eyes, providing a holding environment for the tumult of emotions roiling through her, providing a safe haven for the little girl inside of Happy who still believed that people would let her down and abandon her.
Toby knew it was working, too, when he saw the light shift in her eyes. Slowly, she released him, much more gently than either of them expected.
"You know," Happy said, her voice quiet. "For someone who's been burned by love, you sure have a lot of faith in it."
That's because I have you in my life, Toby wanted to say. Instead he rubbed his aching ear and said, "Who knows? Maybe I should be a love doctor. Maybe one day, I'll have my own holiday. The Tobias M. Curtis Day, complete with my own brand of candy, greeting cards, and holiday traditions."
"Yeah, like butting into people's business and acting condescending to everyone."
Toby stroked his beard. "Yeah, that sounds about right," he said, laughing. Then he looked down at his empty bottle. "I'm about done. You want another one?" he asked, getting up and stretching.
Happy shook her head. She sat staring at her friends playing with the bird, but really, her mind was elsewhere. Before long, Toby came back and handed her a glass of water. "To prevent dehydration," he explained. "We did have quite a bit to drink tonight," he said, quirking a small smile at her.
Happy nodded, and downed the glass. She thought that it was sweet of Toby to do that until she realized that the water had a funny aftertaste…
"Toby! What did you put in this water?!"
"Nothing," Toby said innocently. "It's just water, straight from the tap, I swear!"
"If I find out that you drugged me or something…"
"Now, now, why would I drug you, Happy? You know how old-fashioned I am, which only means that I would like to seduce you under nothing but the most honorable circumstances," he said, grinning like the devil he was.
Happy got up to chase him anyway, but inside she smiled. This was yet another happy memory she would store away for years to come. "You better hope you're not too drunk to run, Tobias, because here I come!"
And I wouldn't have it any other way, Toby thought as he took off, one hand holding onto his hat and the other pressed over his heart.