July 8, 2012 There's a new oneshot on my blog tonight,in Anthony's file, a short with him and Ranger. Link is in my profile, enjoy.
Shelter from the Storm
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a/n: [ We're going back in time a bit from last week, Zoe is four. [this makes no sense...oh well.] —
Chapter 45 ~ Access Denied
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''Okay, girls, you may each choose a story tonight.''
''I want Mrs. Tiggy Winkle, did you bring the Tiggy book, Britta, it's my favorite!''
Britta smiled. Tonight felt different from most of her days and nights as a nanny—tonight she was ''babysitting'' Zoë and her cousin Izabelle while the girls' parents went out to dinner. Often Britta's evenings were free; Ranger and Steph were conscientious parents who tried very hard to be home to tuck their little girl into bed each night. And if they went out, usually Ella sat with Zoë. But this weekend the Manosos were visiting Izabelle's parents' home at the beach and this evening Britta was happy to pitch in. Especially since the presence of the two little girls together required the services of not one but two!—hot handsome Rangeman bodyguards.
Now the little girls were tucked up in Izzy's bed, in her austerely white and pearl grey bedroom. The only spots of color were the bright pink and white striped sheets ( Izzy's sole concession to politeness, a gesture of welcome for her baby cousin.) and Izzy's deceptively angelic sky blue eyes. The children wore summer versions of Zoë's favored white frilly Wendy nighties and they sat expectantly, pillows plumped, waiting to be entertained.
But now Izzy frowned. "That's a baby story."
''No! I love it, Aunt Livy is gonna make me a Tiggy quilt!" Big brown eyes swam with tears, rosebud lips quivered. Britta stifled her sigh—the children were very overexcited and overtired, tantrums lurked on the horizon...
She said calmly, "It's a lovely story, Zoë. And you will have your turn, missy," she added to Izzy.
"Huh. Okay, let's read it on my new Surface, my new tablet."
"Nooooo."
''Zoë likes the book I have brought from my home in Sweden, Izzy. It was mine when I was a little girl. And before that it belonged to my mama when she was a little girl. It is quite special."
''Is it in English?"
"Yes!" Britta showed the girls the little old grey green book.
"Oh. Okay. It's kinda cute, I guess."
"Yes, so..." Britta gently opened the tiny old book.
"Wait!'' said a male voice.
''Yes?'' Britta turned to one of the bodyguards. Tonight both Dragan Dardesqu' and Lester Santos were on duty and both had insisted on sitting in on story time. Britta could kind of see the fascination for poor Dragan who had a sad childhood in a state orphanage. But as best Britta could tell, Lester Santos came from the same pampered rich background as her boss Ranger and Izzy's parents.
Not to mention he was spending more time flirting with her than observing the kids.
Now Lester asked, ''What's a Tiggy Winkle?"
''You did not have Beatrix Potter books as a child?''
''I was a Pooh kid, personally.''
"Pooh is so cool," agreed Izzy.
''So...?" intervened Dragan.
Zoë sat up and informed him, ''Mrs. Tiggy Winkle is a hedgehog. Duh!"
''Hedgehog? Yum.''
Huge brown eyes. ''What? Yum?''
Dragan smiled reminiscently. "I can't remember when I last had a hedgehog goulash... it is delicious, a delicacy in my country."
''We've never had a hedgehog goulash,'' murmured Izzy. "Mom is semi-veggie..."
''Wah! You can't eat Tiggy! I LOVE her, she wears pink stripe-y dresses, and and and a pinny!- and she irons." From Zoë.
''Little one, it could be much worse, there were days we'd have killed for an old dead fish to grill over the coals. A nice plump hedgehog...oh, delish!"
''Wah!''
''Shut up!'' Britta yelled at Dragan, who raised a sultry brow and grinned. ''No one is going to eat...excuse me." Britta's cell phone was playing a Nicki Minaj tune, her new ringtone, "...I must answer this it could be your mama, Zoë, or Ranger...Ja?"
Britta listened and a frown formed on her lovely face. "What? How did you get this number? There is no Mrs. Santos here!"
Her eyes met Lester's. He shrugged, shook his head. Dragan looked furious.
"Goodbye!'' The iPhone slid back into Britta's tight jeans.
"Is there something I should know?" Dragan, who was under the delusion that he was her (only) boyfriend, had his hand on his sleeve where she knew he hid a lethal, scary knife.
"Oh for heaven's sake. You'll frighten the girls!" The three adults looked at the children who appeared fascinated but in no way afraid. Izzy grinned meanly. She caught Dragan's glance and waggled her fine platinum fairy eyebrows.
''What are you looking at, little girl? What do you see?'' seethed Dragan.
Izzy's smile got bigger. ''Everything. That is my curse. And yours."
Dragan made the crossed fingers anti-vampire gesture at her, and she just smiled. "Or should I say, my gift?"
Dragan backed away.
''You two! Sit down or I will have Ranger use you both for target practice. You are behaving very badly!'' Her best nanny voice was quelling and the two men sheepishly shuffled back to their spot on Izzy's grey velvet loveseat.
''Now. What is your story choice, Izabelle?"
''We must read The Ransom of Red Chief, please."
Lester spluttered a laugh but Dragan and Britta looked politely clueless.
''I have it here on my ...oh. Access denied? How can that be?''
''It's okay, Izzy,'' piped up Zoë, "it's my Daddy's favorite too. He says it's a good plan. Just In Case. I have it on my Kindle.'' The child pulled her pink Kindle out from under the pink candy striped pillows.
Both men put their hands on their weapons. (What, her dad keeps a gun under the pillows! Ya never know.)
Zoë held up the Kindle. Only the Kindle.
The men relaxed slightly.
Britta took the small tablet and began to read,
"It looked like a good thing: but wait till I tell you...We selected for our victim the only child of a prominent citizen named Ebenezer Dorset. The father was respectable and tight, a mortgage financier and a stern, upright collection-plate passer and forecloser. The kid was a boy of ten, with bas-relief freckles, and hair the colour of the cover of the magazine you buy at the news-stand when you want to catch a train. Bill and me figured that Ebenezer would melt down for a ransom of two thousand dollars to a cent. But wait till I tell you...''
the end
from Wikipedia: "The Ransom of Red Chief" is a 1910 short story by O. Henry. It follows two men who kidnap and attempt to ransom a wealthy Alabaman's son; eventually, the men are driven to distraction by the boy and end up having to pay the boy's father to take him back.
a/n: the original story is somehat dated now, but the premise is still often used and still, I think, amusing. Anyone who kidnaps Izzy is gonna regret it, bigtime.
Beatrix Potter / Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle . The books are still in print, the artwork is still adorable; quilting fabric with the images is available at the moment.