Living Doll

(Closed for Annisthyrienne)


Living Doll


“Deck the halls with boughs of holly….”

James Hudson sat in his favourite armchair trying to read a book. “Quantum Physics” by Eisberg and Resnick. It was tough going at the best of times, but tonight he was finding it particularly difficult because the choristers downstairs were practically straight under his window.

“….fa la la la la, la, la, la, la.”

He hated Christmas and he hated all the Christmas cheer. Especially loud Christmas cheer.

“’Tis the season to be jolly….”

He snapped the book shut with a loud clap. It was hopeless. No point reading something if you can’t give it the respect it deserves.

Even on Christmas Eve. His first without her.

“….fa la la la la la la la la.”

“Go fuck yourselves,” he said to himself.

He got up and adjusted the heater a little warmer and then walked into the kitchen, picking a glass up from the side table. He was going to fix himself another drink. Maybe that would drown out the sound of carols down below.

And warm him up.

He hated the cold too, and this God forsaken place was cold.

He hated Boston.

Hated it.

He’d only come here because of Jenny. She wanted to be close to her family. After he’d retired from footy, he felt it was only right that they come back, if only for a short time. She had given up so much for him. They were financially secure so there’d been no problem there.

Why not, he’d thought then.

It was only fair.

Not like God’s fairness. He took her. He let her be taken.

James had never been a believer, but if ever there’d been a chance for a conversion, then Jenny’s illness had been it. That was your chance, God, and you fucked it up. Ah shit, what the hell am I thinking? You didn’t fuck anything up. You’re not even fucking there!

His chest started to get tight as he thought of her and he struggled to breathe. She was close to her family now.

She’d been buried next to her maternal grandparents.

The singing from the street below intruded on his thoughts again.

Yeah, fucking sing your carols, he thought, but in the end, no one will help you. It’ll be up to you and when the shit comes down, we’ll see what your God does then.

He fought to stop the tears welling in his eyes and poured himself another scotch. No rocks. No water.

Just scotch.

He downed it and then poured another.

He downed that.

And then poured another….

Whoa, he thought. You don’t need to fuck yourself up totally, mate.

He took the glass he’d just poured and sat back down in the armchair. He was warm from the heater and warm and fuzzy from the scotch.

He looked around the room at the bookshelves. Only half of them contained books. The others displayed dolls. Dolls. Jenn dies and fucking leaves me with dolls. Christ. He’d only kept them because of her. She had loved dolls. That was her passion. So, the dolls stayed. Even when friends suggested otherwise, he resisted. You’ll get a good price for them, they’d say, some of them are rare.

As if you could measure Jenn’s dolls in money. They were hers. They were part of her.

No, the dolls would stay.

He knew each doll by name. He had a story for each one of them. Often, he’d come back from a run or a swim and sit there contemplating the dolls. What have you been doing while I was out? While I was asleep?

Fucking hell. Talking to dolls. Better have another scotch. That’ll fix it.

Yeah right.

He was lucky he didn’t tell anyone about these fantasies. He’d be sitting in a padded cell, not in his armchair.

James Hudson: AFL superstar committed for talking to dolls. He could picture the headlines back home. Wouldn’t matter so much here, of course, but it would still be embarrassing.

Get a grip.

“Ding dong merrily on high….”

His eyes were drawn to a doll.

The doll.

She was packing, this doll. She had guns. She was dressed for combat.

He liked her the best of all. No prissy dresses. No pink. Camouflage shorts, gun belt, her face smeared with black. What a body. Fit. Ready to do damage.

Don’t fuck with me, buddy.

Right on!

“In heaven the bells are ringing…”

He ignored the singing down below.

“We should go shooting, I reckon,” he said. “Me and you. Shoot those fucking singers downstairs first.”

He smiled. It didn’t happen often.

He looked back at the doll.

He thought the doll winked at him.

Right, he thought, that’s it! One more scotch, then bed.

He made himself another scotch, switched off the lights and sat back down. The room was illuminated by the lights from across the street.

The doll was there looking back at him. She had the best spot in the display. And the lights focused on her.

“We could have some fun, baby,” he said, his speech starting to slur.

He didn’t have Jenn any more, but he had her.

The doll.

Slowly, his head became thick from the booze and his head began to slump.

You and me against the world....

There was nothing else to stay awake for.

He fell asleep.

Impressions. Fleeting, half realized images. Sounds, from far away, muffled, as if heard through a thick blanket, or from another room.

This was all there ever was, for so long. Disconnected impressions of sight and sound. Never feeling though; not until now.

Now there was heat, felt on skin newly aware of sensation. Stiffness....at first. But that was changing. And He was there, in her field of view. His presence, quiet now, but still imposing, commanding the room. She remembered Him. He belonged to the Woman, just as she did. But He was different. He could move; could come and go. He must be the prize of Her collection. He was very well articulated, she thought. He wasn't moving now though. He was still, posed in that decidedly non-action pose.

She felt the stiffness leaving her limbs. Or was it more that the new sensation of feeling was spreading through her? Experimentally, she tried moving her fingers. It was a small thing, but it was something she'd never felt before. So it was a huge thing! She could feel! And move!

Like a cat stretching after a long nap, she moved sinuously, testing each part of herself, coming into full awareness of herself. Small joints flexing, became continuous flesh, no longer mechanical plastic. Warmth arose where before there was none. Movement, glorious movement, was hers!

She became aware that there were others like her, to the left and right, lined up, just standing there, stiffly. She turned her head to see them better, a small part of her amazed that it was so easy to do. But no, they were not like her, not really. She took a step, then another, easing along the shelf between the others. Blank stares and vapid, idiotic smiles greeted her with every face. None of them were armed, she realized, as her hand came to rest on her trusty Desert Eagle in the holster at her hip.

And their clothing was ridiculously impractical. Light fluffy fru-fru gauzy stuff, completely useless for combat or action, she decided, shaking her head. Either that or spandex swimsuits. Might not be bad for some situations, but no camo or BDUs among the entire lot of them. She thought she could find something to trade for the swimsuit, maybe. That is, if the stiffly posed airhead would part with it. If not....well, going 'commando' was always an option, especially since she was one.

She reached the end of the shelf, and turned to survey the room, her eyes alighting on Him again. He was the only one like her. He could move, she had seen Him before. Now she could move too. He was more like her than these stiff ones were. She wanted a closer look.

'Now, how to get over there?' she thought. She stood at the end of the shelf, hands on hips, appraising the situation. It was a long way down, and no easily visible means to descend. She lay down flat on her belly, peering over the edge. It appeared she was on the top shelf of a bookcase that stood almost 7 times her own height. But she could see that each shelf below wasn't too far down. She could climb over the edge, she thought, and lower herself one level at a time. It would be hazardous. She could slip and fall. But she couldn't see another way.

She maneuvered around, scooting back until her legs hung out over the edge, holding on tightly with her hands. Were they still plastic, they would not have gripped the finished surface of the shelf, but as flesh, they resisted and held just enough to lower her legs a little at a time. A muscled abdomen and newly sensitive little breasts scraped over the edge as she struggled to hang on. Her feet stretched out and flailed to find a purchase on the next level. It was a tense moment hanging by her elbows, the edge of the shelf just under her chin, before she found a foothold below. As soon as her feet touched, she breathed a sigh of relief, a small miracle in itself, where tiny lungs were non-existent a mere few minutes before.

Gathering her feet under her, she swung the rest of her body in by her fingertips, settling on the next shelf below. 'Well, only about six more like that.' she told herself, as she opened her camouflaged BDU vest to check to see if she had been damaged in that newly tender area. Ample but pert breasts showed a healthy tan, but no sign of bruising under the t-shirt beneath her uniform vest. Satisfied, she rubbed absently at her chest to ease the pain away. Not all of these new sensations she was experiencing were pleasant ones.

A few moments to rest and she was ready to try again. But this time, she looked first, hanging her head over the edge, to get a better idea of how far down the next shelf was. The bookcase was the sort with adjustable shelves to allow for different sized books or displayed objects. The next shelf was not so far, only about half her height. It had been adjusted for paperback novels, and the colorful spines sported a variety of titles and genres. None of this was interesting to her at the moment though. Her mind, with it's military discipline and mission oriented focus that went along with being a commando action doll kept her focused on her one goal: to reach the bottom and collect intel on the big male figure across the room.

Once again, she repeated the process: easing over the side, lowering her feet first, hanging on until she found a foothold, then swinging her body under and in, to rest on the nest shelf. This shorter one had proved to be more challenging, because she could not stand on the next shelf below, but had to crouch, nearly bent over. It was much harder to swing her body into a smaller space, but she was athletic and her martial arts training gave her complete command of her body.

She was about to repeat the procedure again to reach the next shelf down when something caught her eye in the dim light coming through the window. It was hard to make out, but there was a large shape near the other end of the shelf she was on. She began to crawl on hands and knees to get a closer look.

Reaching the end, she could make out the shape of a computer desk next to the bookcase. The desktop itself was still a good distance below, but there was a hutch cabinet that rose above and enclosed the monitor. The upper surface of the cabinet was stacked with a few books for various software applications, and a long drawer for holding CDs and DVDs of various software programs. The top of the drawer supported a potted houseplant whose stalks reached nearly to the shelf she was crawling on. An idea of how to get down a little more quickly and easily began to form in her thoughts.

The stalks of the plant looked to be some sort of bamboo type reed, and just might be flexible enough to lower her down to the top of the disc drawer. If not, she'd have to climb down the stalk, but even that would be safer than the shelves. Then, from the top of the drawer to the hutch was only the height of her legs, easy enough to jump down that far. Top of the hutch to the monitor....slide down the edge to the desktop....then not too far to jump to the seat of the desk chair. From there, she would be almost to the floor. Quick, simple, and easy, she thought as a slow smile spread across her lips.

All it would take was a small leap of faith from the shelf to the stalk of the plant.

Yeah.

That's all.

From a stooped over position.

Across an open space about as far as her own length, plus a little.

No big deal.

Right!

She looked back over at the big figure in the huge padded display stand he occupied so often, as he did now. He still intrigued her. He might be the only one in the Woman's collection who could move like she now could. Or he might know of others who could also move, perhaps in another part of Her collection, kept elsewhere. If nothing else, He might be able to tell her where the Woman has been. It seemed like so long since She came to perform inspection on the little trooper.

A flood of memories came to her mind all at once. Perhaps it shouldn't be called memories, what was going through her newly formed mind. It was information; knowledge of who she was, and what she was supposed to be. Commando Kat, short for Katrina; a female mercenary action doll; a member of the Cardinal Garrison Elite Action Team. Operations and weapons specialist. She was the type to kick ass and take names, in that order, if necessary. She was a fiery green-eyed redhead, tanned, fit, well armed with a Desert Eagle pistol strapped to her thigh and a wicked looking survival knife on her belt, camo cargo shorts and a camo vest, OD green t-shirt underneath, and some sturdy looking combat boots on her feet. She was ready for anything! At least she thought she was.

Another last longing look at Him, and her determination steeled into resolve. She gathered herself, coiling like a panther about to spring, and leaped out into space, lunging for the plant stalk. Her leap covered the distance without fail, but the stalk was not as flexible as she had imagined. Her grip nearly faltered as her small fingers closed around the stalk, her weight nearly pulling her grip loose as her body swung past. But she held on, and as her legs swung back, she wrapped them around the stalk, hooking her ankles together.

She lowered herself hand over hand, trying to ignore the burning friction between her legs and the new and different tingle there. All of these new sensations; she wondered if He had them too. Then again, it would have to be a pretty big plant for Him to slide down. At last she reached the base. Planting her foot in the soil in the pot left a clear mark of the tread of her combat boot. In the morning, a little trail of potting soil would be evidence of her path to the top of the hutch.

The rest of her climb was easy by comparison. A few jumps, barely as high as she was tall, and she was perched on the seat of the desk chair. For some reason she wasn't sure of, she felt the need for caution now. And with good reason. Unbeknownst to her, the slight rustling sounds she had made while jumping into the plant had reached the sensitive ears of another resident of the house.

The seat of the office chair was padded, unlike the shelves. Sliding her body over the sides wasn't nearly as uncomfortable or difficult as before. And the drop to the carpeted floor was not far. The soft pile of the carpet under her boots gave her a moment of unstable footing, but it was nothing compared to the cold blossom of dread that bloomed in the pit of her belly when she turned around to face the huge black beast standing before her.

The low rumbling thunder of his growl froze her in place. The black furred animal stood nearly twice her height at the shoulder, and the fangs that showed in that snarl were easily as long as her survival knife. Slowly she backed away, under the desk chair. Instinct told her not to run. The huge muzzle drew nearer, advancing upon her as the animal tried to ascertain what manner of intruder this little being was.

Her scent was not one the big black dog had encountered before. Polyvinylchloride mixed with feminine flesh, similar to his former Mistress, yet different. The little creature was backing away, but there was nowhere to escape to. The dog pressed forward, muzzle and sniffing nose extended towards the strange smelling intruder.

Kat eased away until her backside bumped into one of the crossed legs of the pedestal base of the chair, stopping her retreat. She was back against it now, but she wouldn't go down with out a fight! Slowly, without any sudden movement, she drew her Desert Eagle, prepared to put a couple rounds into the huge snout that menaced her. Drawing a bead on the large black nose, she hesitated. What if this animal belonged to the Woman? She might be angry if it was killed. Kat slowly holstered her weapon, reaching for her knife instead. She knew the huge beast wouldn't be hurt too seriously by her knife. And she wouldn't use it if she didn't have to.

She slid over the cross brace of the pedestal, putting it between herself and the inquisitive animal. Risking a quick glance beyond the beast, she could make out the base of the padded figure stand that held the big male figure. That had been her goal, and she was frustrated at being prevented from it when she'd come so close.

Just then, a bit of luck! The big black animal, eager to investigate this intruder closer, circled around to the other side of the chair, rambunctious in its haste to get at the little moving 'thing' that smelled of Mistress and plastic.

Kat saw her chance and broke from the cover under the chair, sprinting for the huge padded stand that He was posed in. Behind her the huge dog bayed loudly and surged forward after her, bowling past the desk chair, sending it smashing into the front of the desk as he passed, hot on her tiny heels.

Kat realized she wasn't going to make it. She was picking them up and putting them down as fast as she could on the uncertain footing of the thick carpet. But it wouldn't be fast enough. The big black beast had four legs to run with, and she had only two. Never mind that his stride was about five of hers. She whirled to face the beast even as it loomed over her, jaws open wide to snatch this impudent little prowler! Her survival knife was in her hand and she lashed out just as the open maw descended upon her!

Although only plastic, the little weapon was pointed rather sharply. Enough to deliver a nasty jab into the tender tongue and lips of the dog, inspiring a loud yelp. The dog pulled back quickly, unsure now whether it had been bit by the small creature or what. Kat saw her chance and dived for the protective space under the big man's resting place. The dog lunged after her, half burying his head under the edge of the recliner between the big man's feet, sending a jolt through the chair to accompany his raucous howl.

James woke up with a start.

He heard the desk chair crashing into the desk….

“What the….?”

The black labrador was scratching at his feet and trying to get his head under the chair.

“Casper,” he said firmly, “stop that.”

The dog looked at him with his big brown eyes and loose jowls. He didn’t like being reprimanded and he looked forlornly at his master. He sat in front of James, but he was agitated and his eyes kept going down to the area under the chair.

Must be a mouse, he thought. Not that I’ve ever seen one.

James was patient with the dog, another of Jenny’s passions. The dog itself had grieved and been confused when Jenny had passed away. He was slowly returning to his normal behaviour, but there was still the odd day of trouble.

He loved it now, but initially he’d been reluctant to get a dog.

“How can you have a dog in an apartment?” he’d asked.

He was used to his home where dogs had plenty of space to enjoy themselves.

“Over here everyone does it, silly,” she’d said.

Of course he’d relented. Whatever Jenny wanted, Jenny got. It had taken nearly a year, but now he was used to an “inside dog” as he called it.

She’d gone to pick it up herself and brought it home one day. She’d opened the transportation cage and just put the little puppy on the floor. It was a surprise, but even he’d had to admit the pup was cute.

“We’ll call it Casper,” she’d said.

“But weren’t we going to call it that if it was a golden lab? As in Casper the friendly ghost?”

“I know, but I like the name so much I can’t think of another one. Plus I’m sure he’ll grow into it, like a child grows into their name….” she'd said, trailing off.

He knew better than to keep talking when thoughts of a child entered the conversation so he’d agreed instantly.

“Casper it is then.”

Now, like the dolls, James couldn’t bear to part with him. He reminded her of Jenny and what they’d had before.

Had.

He looked at his watch. It was six in the morning. Christmas Day. He must have fallen asleep in the chair after drinking too much scotch. Funnily enough, besides a slightly furry tongue, he didn’t feel too bad.

Great. You’re getting used to it. You're officially an alcoholic.

Casper was still agitated and looking under the chair. Now he was making a sighing noise, asking for permission to get closer and have a look.

“Hey, Casper. Merry Christmas,” he said, patting the dog on his broad head. “I doubt the mouse is still under there, mate, so maybe we’ll get a trap. I think you’re just seeing things.”

He winked at the dog.

The dog looked at him in the way all intelligent dogs do; with understanding. Jenny had said that. Dogs might not understand, but they understand.

It made complete sense if you knew her.

James knew he had to fight the maudlin feelings rising up in him. He stood up from the chair. The dog was still, unusual for him, and focused on the bottom of the chair and whatever he wanted that was underneath it.

“Righto,” he said to the dog. “It’s Christmas Day. I reckon we go for a run to shake out the cobwebs. Then I’ll make us a special breakfast. What do you reckon about that?”

The dog looked at him and beat its tail on the carpet. It understood feeding time. All labradors do. Food is their universal language.

The dog was still focused on the chair, but it reluctantly followed James into the bedroom. When it came to adventure or food, food always won out with Casper.

James quickly changed into sweatpants and a hooded top and did a few light stretches. He wasn’t going to set any world records today, just a light run to get things working. He wouldn’t be long. Maybe half an hour.

Casper was excited now at the prospect of going for a run and he was waiting at the door, his mouth open and his tail beating the carpet incessantly. James had a quick mouthful of water from the bottle on the kitchen bench and then made for the door.

Same old, same old, he thought, Christmas Day or not.

He didn’t look at the dolls as he walked out the door. Casper bounded straight for the elevator and sat there. James smiled at his innocence and enthusiasm.

Wish I had something to be happy about.

He shut the door behind him and made his way to stand beside the dog.

Everything stays the same.

Or not.

Her dive for safety took her well under the large padded base that contained the big man. Her ears rang with the deafening bay of the fearsome black beast. It inspired her to wriggle even further into the dark safety of the impromptu refuge.

Kat sensed the shifting weight above her as He stirred, aroused by the commotion from the large animal. She wanted to emerge from hiding to see Him, see what He was doing, see how He was moving, but the big black animal was still out there.

That's when she heard another sound. This new sound seemed to be coming from Him somewhere above her hiding place. And it was more than one particular sound. More like a whole string of sounds put together. She had to know. Had to see this.

Kat crawled as far back to the rear of her hiding place as she could go. There was room there to peek out from the shadows, and she did, just long enough to make sure the animal was still occupied on the other side. She could see the animal's feet so she risked poking her head out from under the edge of the big padded base.

Now she could hear the sounds He was making even better. She edged nearer, until she could catch a glimpse of Him. He seemed so huge! He towered over her, nearly as high as the platform from which she had descended. Always before she had seen Him from that level. He hadn't seemed so large then. Even his foot was at least as long as she was tall!

And from this vantage point, His feet were most of what she could see. She watched as they stepped away from the padded figure stand that had supported him, pausing to make those sounds again. She gathered that He was communicating with the big black animal. This was yet another way that He was different from the others in the Woman's collection. Kat wondered if she could make such sounds too. If she could, perhaps she could control the animal like He seemed to. Her mind filled with the many possibilities presented if she could control the beast! So many things could be easier! She could even ride it perhaps, if it could be controlled.

She resolved to learn to make those sounds if she could. Not only because it would allow her to manage the big black animal, but because then she would be more like Him. Subconsciously, she began trying to form the noises with her mouth as she watched Him move away out of sight. He seemed to move so easily! Each of his steps carried him as far as half a dozen of hers would!

The animal followed Him, and she was even more certain that the key to controlling it was in those sounds.

She wanted to follow; to see more, but without some form of cover, she would be vulnerable to attack if the big animal decided to return. Looking around carefully at the other objects in the room, she considered a sprint to a place of concealment closer to where she saw Him go, but hesitated, unsure if the fierce animal would reappear at any moment.

Kat shook her head in confusion. This indecision wasn't like her. Little brows furrowed in self admonishment and she set out sprinting to the cover of a small table near the archway that led to the rest of the apartment. The table legs were more open than the hiding place she had just emerged from, but it was pushed back near the wall, and if she was still and quiet.....

The floor beneath her shook with the slight tremors of footsteps coming down the hall. She barely had time to duck behind one of the table legs when the huge animal came bounding out.

She froze.

The slightest hint of movement could be all it would take to alert the animal to her presence and her vulnerable situation.

Fortunately, it seemed excited about something and made straight for a door that Kat could just see from her new vantage point, taking no notice of her. A moment later, He followed the animal. Again she studied Him, how His stride so easily carried him along. He wore a different uniform now, one suited for physical training. A commando had to keep in top physical form, after all. He must be like her in that way too. She wondered what sort of weapon specialties He possessed. She needed more recon to find out.

Then she saw it. He lifted a large container of liquid to His mouth and seemed to pour it inside Himself! This was different. This was something she did not do. Perhaps she should?

Curiosity overwhelmed her. She had to know why He did this. Before, on the shelf, she had been aware of Him, of His presence. But not in a way that she noticed many details of His actions. Now this new act was something worth investigating. It might tell her more about Him. Maybe it would reveal why He was different from the others, and also, why she now was as well.

Just as her attention returned to Him, both he and the large animal passed through the door, leaving her alone for now. She looked quickly around, making sure the coast was clear, then headed for the structure where he had placed the liquid container. It was not as high as the shelf she had come from, but she would still have to climb.

Small hands on her hips, she studied the structure. There seemed to be rectangular protrusions at regular intervals up the face of the structure. Each of these had a metallic ring hanging from a holding fixture. Although they were spaced pretty far apart, Kat thought she could climb them, using the rings to hold onto, and the rectangular protrusions as footholds.

She was the type to set thoughts to action without hesitation. Once the plan was formed, it became her mission. There was nothing else left but to accomplish it. Failure was not an option.

But it was no easy task. Fifteen minutes later she found herself faced with an obstacle. The countertop above her extended farther out than the drawer face she was perched upon. How to pull herself up and over?

She hooked her tiny hands over the lip of the drawer, pulling her foot up to slip it through the ring of the drawer pull. With that new foothold, she reached up and out with one hand, trying to find a hold on the countertop. She held on tightly to the lip of the drawer with the other hand.

Three times she scrabbled for a handhold, but the countertop was too smooth to get a grip on anything. It's edge was rounded over, allowing no purchase for fingers as small as hers. But an interesting thing happened as she struggled to find a hold. Her weight, little as it was, was enough to move the drawer open slightly.

She noticed the movement and formed a new plan. Bracing one hand on the lip of the drawer, and one hand on the cabinet face, she pushed hard. The drawer opened an inch or two. Now the face of the drawer was even with the edge of the countertop, although still a few inches below it. Holding on to the lip of the drawer face, she managed to straighten, lifting her upper body above the level of the countertop. From this new position, she easily swung a leg up and scrambled to the countertop.

At last! She could see the large container of clear liquid. It was not quite as tall as she was, but a bit bigger around. A closer examination showed an opening at the top and a nearby 'bowl' shaped object that she thought could be a cap. A quick look around revealed a myriad of objects she wanted to explore in more detail, but first she wanted to learn more about this liquid.

She peered down into the container. The level of the liquid wasn't too far down. She reached her arm inside through the opening at the top. Her fingertips could barely reach it, but she felt a cool wet sensation that made her smile. These new feelings were so interesting! Withdrawing her hand, she looked at it carefully. A few micro droplets of the liquid clung to her skin, but there didn't seem to be any bad effects.

She stared at her fingers. Finally her curiosity got the better of her caution. After all, He had put it in His mouth, and in much greater quantity. He seemed to suffer no harm. And if they truly were alike, she ought to be safe enough. She brought her fingers to her mouth, letting the cool liquid cover her lips before flicking out a tiny pink tongue to taste it.

She liked it.

Deciding to get more, she dipped her arm into the bottle again and again. But each time, she could only draw out what little coated her fingers. He had lifted the whole container, and simply poured the liquid into his mouth. Her method was much too slow and took too much effort.

Spotting the little bowl shaped cap, she wondered if she could tilt the container enough to pour a little bit of the liquid into the cap. Then she would be able to drink from it as He had done from the large container.

She estimated the size of the container, lining the cap up with where it should be able to catch the liquid. Then she wrapped her small arms around the bottle as tightly as she could. It was hard to get a good grip because the container's surface was very smooth. There was a label on the bottle, but it was below the place where she felt she would have the best control in holding it.

Kat braced her feet on the countertop. It took some effort to get the container to move at all. It was heavy! To overcome the inertia she had to push/pull it with her own weight, then as it began to tilt beyond the point of equilibrium, she had to reverse her effort to keep it from falling completely over.

She struggled to control the heavy weight, easing it over a little at a time. She could see the level of the liquid inside approaching the opening in the top, so close to having a reward for her effort.

Suddenly she heard a noise from beyond the door. Heavy footsteps and the barking sound similar to what the large animal had made when it had attacked her. Startled, she lost control of the weight. The bottle began to pull her over with it, and some of the liquid splashed out on her leg. The sudden cool wetness added to her distraction just as her grip slipped.

The bottle dropped, splashing water pouring out all over the counter, dribbling off the edge to pool on the floor. Just then the door rattled with the sound of a key. Kat panicked. The plan had gone horribly awry! She cast about for a place to hide, spotting a shiny metal boxy looking object a few paces away. She dove for cover behind it just as the door opened.

In the puddle of water left behind, small boot tracks led away towards the toaster oven, glistening wet in the early morning light coming through the kitchen window.

James felt better after his run, although Casper seemed no less boisterous. Trying to run the energy out of him was almost pointless.

Dogs in apartments, he thought to himself. Only in America.

The lift door opened and he walked out into the corridor. He had to get himself cleaned up. Jen’s parents had invited him over for Christmas lunch. They’d wanted him to go over yesterday and stay the night in preparation for the lunch, but he’d fobbed them off, saying he had things to do.

Like read physics books.

Like get drunk.

Like crying and talking at dolls.

He opened the door to his apartment and Casper bolted through it, nearly knocking him over.

“Casper!” he shouted at the dog.

The dog was sitting below the kitchen bench, looking up at it.

Probably wants something to drink.

James closed the door behind him and went over to the dog. He slipped on the floor and nearly lost his balance.

The floor was wet and he saw the bottle lying on its side. Most of the water was tipped all over the bench and some had run onto the floor. He stood the bottle back up.

“You gotta be kidding me, mate, I’ve told you never to jump on the bench.”

He pointed to the bottle and the bench and waved his finger at him.

“No.”

The dog stopped wagging his tail. He seemed confused. James had to admit he hadn’t heard the bottle fall and the dog had barely had a few seconds to himself to cause what he’d found. Maybe he’d done it absentmindedly when he was leaving. He did remember having a drink before he left….

No big deal.

He patted the dog on the head by way of apology.

Poor thing. I’m always going off at you when things go wrong. I know it’s been hard.

He patted the dog again and looked at the bench. Luckily, the spillage was confined to the bench and the floor immediately below it. It was only water after all. He pulled a couple of paper towels from the roll on the wall and wiped up the floor.

When he went to work on the bench, he noticed small droplets leading to the toaster.

That’s funny. Maybe we do have mice.

The tracks didn’t look like mice tracks though. They looked like….

….shoes? Boots?

He shook his head and blinked his eyes a few times and then looked back down at the trail.

They sure look like boots, he thought. But they can’t be.

Could they?

“I tell you what, Casper,” he said to the dog looking up at him, “from now on we have to cut back on the booze.”

He shook his head again. Mice with shoes!

He wiped up the water on the bench and then cleaned the tracks away.

He smiled.

Boots.

Talking to dolls, miniature boots.

The men in white coats would be next.

He couldn’t help it. He laughed.

Casper wagged his tail. He knew when James was happy and that made him happy. He jumped up and put his paws on James’ thighs.

“Hey,” he said. “Yeah, it’s good you’re happy, but we don’t want to break the jumping rules, do we?”

James patted him and the dog dropped back to his four paws. He seemed to have forgotten all about the bench now and went to take a drink from the bowl in the corner of the lounge room.

James took another towel and moved the toaster slightly to the side and wiped up the rest of the track marks that went around it.

Funny, he thought, they end at the toaster.

He looked down into the slots and there was nothing there.

Wouldn’t do to toast a mouse. With boots.

He smiled again.

He was starting to like the mouse. Shit, anything that could make him forget about the pain of losing Jen had to be good.

He looked around the kitchen.

“Well, whoever and wherever you are,” he said, ”I promise you I’ll be nice. Even if you’re a mouse!”

He thought about breakfast, but then decided he might eat out. He had to get himself showered and changed. He thought he’d pack a change of clothes just in case he over-imbibed and had to stay at Jen’s parents’ for the night. He got on well with their family and once the talk started he could easily forget how much he was drinking.

“Why the hell not?” he said to himself.

He got a sports bag from the bedroom closet and put some spare socks and underwear in there. He also put a t-shirt, a pair of trackpants and a hoodie in the bag. He doubted they’d be up to anything very formal tomorrow. He threw a couple of disposable razors into the bag and he was done.

He thought of Jenny. She would have packed three bags just on the possibility of an overnight stay. It used to annoy the hell out of him.

He wished she was there to annoy him now….

He took the bag into the kitchen and left it on the bench that he’d just cleaned up to make sure he wouldn’t forget it going out the door.

Casper was sitting in the lounge room looking at the bookshelf, but James didn’t have time to fool around. He needed to get showered and changed and leave. They only lived in Plymouth, but James was still not completely comfortable driving in snow and ice, so he would give himself plenty of time. He could stop for a late breakfast along the way. Lunch wouldn’t be eaten till later in the afternoon anyway, as the greetings and conversation always took precedence until Jen’s mother reminded everyone that there was a lunch to be eaten.

He went back to his bedroom, stripped off and walked into the bathroom.

He’d have a nice long warm shower today.

Spoil yourself.

It’s Christmas.

http://us.123rf.com/400wm/400/400/k...ung-man-sitting-on-his-vintage-motorcycle.jpg

There was no time to hide properly. It was all she could do to dive behind the toaster even as the door opened. The huge black animal burst through, followed by Him. Katrina thought maybe the animal spotted her, but she couldn't be sure. One thing she was sure of, it led Him straight to her. She watched from hiding as He spotted the spilled liquid and chided the animal.

The finger he pointed at the beast, shaking it slightly; was that the key to controlling the animal? Or was it that single word, powerfully spoken? Short. Terse. Commanding.

'No!' It echoed inside her mind. Somehow she knew that word held power over the animal. She would try it when she could. But there was no chance now. He was wiping up the spill, so close to her hiding place now! She shrank back further behind the toaster as she saw Him pause, looking at the wet tracks she left.

He was close, too close! He would see her!

But just then, her old nemesis, the big black animal saved her. It jumped up on him and turned his attention away. She didn't wait. She moved quickly but silently for a new place of cover. Only a scant pace or two away was a multi-tiered rack of containers, each filled to varying levels with powders, small shredded plant bits, and even one that contained little back round things, pellet-like. She hid behind the rack noting with idle curiosity the lettering on the container: B-l-a-c-k P-e-p-p-e-r-c-o-r-n-s.

Whatever they were, they provided cover for her surveillance, and that was all that mattered. If the large black animal had seen her move, it didn't show any sign. It was a good thing she did too. He moved the big silver toaster she had been hiding behind, even looked down inside the top of it.

He seemed curious, but not hostile. She admired His face from her hiding place behind the spice rack, peeking through between the bottles of peppercorn and garlic powder. He was ruggedly good looking. Looking upon Him as He smiled made her feel good for some reason. Somehow she knew she would like Him. If the Woman had favored Him, then He must have good qualities. Katrina was tempted to emerge from her place of concealment and confront Him when suddenly He spoke again, His voice loud to her small ears.

“Well, whoever and wherever you are,” He said, ”I promise you I’ll be nice. Even if you’re a mouse!”

Was He talking to her, she wondered? It seemed possible. She found herself hoping He was, even as she studied the way He shaped the words with His mouth. She thought she could do that too, with practice. Would He help her to learn how?

She watched as He left again, the animal following after Him. Alone for the moment, her curiosity piqued by the ease with which He could speak those words, control the animal, and even fill the room with his voice, she tried to form the sounds, shaping her mouth the way she had seen Him do it. Her small fingers reached up to feel the way her mouth shaped to make sure she worked it out right. It seemed right, but no sound came out. There must be more to it.

She tried harder, straining almost. Gradually she began to notice that as she breathed, the air coming out through her mouth as she formed the shapes with her lips seemed to change in sound. "nnnn....nnn....oooo." It wasn't quite like His sounds, certainly not as loud. It was barely a whisper. But after all, she was not nearly His size either.

Encouraged, she tried again. "k...k....kkaaa....sss...kas...puh! kasss....puh....rrrrr." Her tiny mouth formed a smile of accomplishment. There was still some trick to it that she wasn't aware of, but at least she could form the noises in her little hissing breath sound. She was feeling very pleased with herself and about to try again when He returned, setting a huge canvas container near her hiding place.

She knew what this was! It was huge, but she'd recognize a gear duffel anywhere! He was preparing for a mission! He was like her, a commando! This proved it. And He would need her expertise, she was sure. There was no way she would let a comrade face a difficult and risky mission alone.

She checked her pistol, dropping the tiny magazine from the well, checking the load and reseating it with a slap of the heel of her hand. Holstering her weapon, she checked to make sure the coast was clear. The large black animal, the 'kasper', as He had called it, was in the other place, where she had come from, near the shelf. No one was around. Katrina moved stealthily but quickly to the mission duffel full of equipment. Peeking inside, she noted the lack of weapons. What was He thinking? He would need at least some armament for nearly any successful mission outcome! Maybe he was going undercover, she thought. Even more reason He would require back up.

Her mind made up, she climbed inside the gear duffel and waited, squirming under some of the odd uniform items he had packed. If He knew she was stowing away, He might not like it, but she was sure He would need her help before the mission ended. No plan ever survived first contact with the enemy.

James felt refreshed after his shower. He walked over to the bag on the bench and threw a toothbrush in there. He was about to turn away when he noticed more little water-footprints on the bench.

“You have to be kidding,” he muttered, shaking his head.

He was in a better mood, so he just gave them a quick wipe with his hand. The mice could wait till he got back.

He looked over at Casper. He was sitting on his rug next to the armchair. He was looking dolefully at James. He’d seen the duffel bag and he knew he wouldn’t be going. This was his way of sulking. James kept looking at him and Casper even managed to let off a “hmmphh”, laying down with his head on the floor and looking directly at him.

“Come on, mate,” said James. “You love staying with Mrs. Frankel. She bloody well gives you Oreos!”

Casper just continued looking at him as if it was the end of the world. James rolled his eyes and called him over. There was nothing more to do.

He was dressed in jeans, t shirt, jumper and a ski jacket. He wore Blundstone boots – he couldn’t get them out of his system and he wore them everywhere. It felt like he was always close to home with those boots on. He picked up the bag, grabbed his keys and had a quick final glance around and then walked out the door with Casper following him.

He knocked on the door across the hall from him and Mrs. Frankel opened it quickly.

She had a biscuit in her hand and Casper quickly snatched it and ran into her apartment and sat behind her, swallowing the biscuit without even chewing it.

“Hello, James,” she said. She had a kindly face. James had been close to her ever since they’d moved into the apartment. Her husband had passed away a few years ago. They were even closer now that Jenn had passed away; they had something in common.

“Thanks for this, Mrs. Frankel,” he said. “I really appreciate it. I just didn’t want to take him there if I was only staying for the day. I hope it’s ok, also if just in case of I stay the night?”

“Don’t be silly, enjoy yourself,” she said. She glanced back at the dog. “He’ll have a ball. My grandkids are coming for Christmas lunch so he’ll have plenty to occupy him.”

James smiled at her.

“I’d tell you to take it easy with the left overs for him,” he said smiling, “but I know you’ll just ignore me.”

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

“Drive safely,” she said.

“I will,” he said.

He was about to turn away when she said, “And hey, Merry Christmas. I was waiting for you, but you obviously forgot.”

“Oh, sorry. Merry Christmas, Mrs. Frankel,” he said, leaning over and giving her another kiss on the cheek.

They said their goodbyes, he gave Casper one final wave and he walked to the lift.

Time for some Christmas cheer, he thought as he waited.

Yeah, right.

****

It took him about ten minutes to get the Subaru onto Route 3 and he was finally on his way. He decided he would stop at Hanover for a bite to eat since he’d skipped breakfast.

He was there in twenty five minutes, pulling off at 53 and then driving in to town. He found a tidy-looking place and went in to eat.

Bugger it, he thought, bacon and eggs and hash browns and everything. It’s Christmas.

The drive had been uneventful. The bag had been thrown on the front seat beside him because he'd put a couple of CD's in there. He’d listened to a little music, mainly country because he was feeling a little maudlin at the prospect of this being his first Christmas without Jenny. He’d even had a few tears roll his cheeks.

He ate at the window of the diner, looking outside to the grey cold. He took his time. He was early and there was no rush. He smiled to himself. He would have to listen to Jenn’s brother and sister go on about how lucky he and Jenn were.

Or had been.

Not lucky anymore.

They’d worked bloody hard for all they had. There had been no luck involved, except possibly being intelligent.

And finding each other.

His thoughts kept going back to Jenn, no matter what else he tried to think of to distact his mind. It was only natural. He expected that gradually her memories would fade. He couldn’t see how that would ever happen, but his therapist had told him it would.

He still had anger issues. It had all been so unfair. Why did she have to fall ill and die? He would rather it had been him. Then he wouldn’t have to live without her.

He mopped up the last bit of his egg with some toast.

Maybe I’ll have another coffee. The diner was empty. It was Christmas. He was surprised it was open. Back home in Australia, nothing was open at Christmas.

I guess being summer makes a difference, he thought.

Might go back home, he thought. Without Jenn, there wasn’t really much tying him down here. He could do the same work at home and even though he’d been retired from sport for five years, his name still had a little cache.

He sat back, nodded to the waitress that he'd finished his meal and waited for his coffee.

He had nothing to rush to.

Nothing at all.

That really mattered.

Katrina lay still, hiding in the folds of His huge uniform clothing. She knew she had to remain quiet for the time being or risk being discovered. Somehow she suspected that if He found out she had stowed away in his mission gear bag, He'd refuse to let her go.

Some soldiers were like that. Proud. Never wanting to admit they could use back-up, even if the mission was dangerous. But she knew how it could be. She'd had her share of missions, some where things had turned sour way too quickly. It was just that she couldn't quite remember the details of them now. Since she had awoken from that 'sleep' it was a little harder to remember the details of her life before. She didn't know what sort of mission this was, but she was ready for it.

She'd had a look at his 'uniforms' hoping to discover his unit affiliation. But like her own clothing, none of the items bore any real rank markings, nor unit identifying badges. She deduced that he must be going undercover. It wouldn't do for an enemy to glean information from your uniform in case you were captured. She began to feel admiration for the bravery he must have to take on such an obviously dangerous mission alone. It occurred to her to wonder where the Woman was. Did She issue the orders sending him out on the mission? If so, what would She think of Katrina stowing away?

All of this made it even more crucial that she remain undiscovered. So she waited, lying still between the layers of cloth, as snug as lying in a bed. It wasn't long before she felt Him take up the duffel, sensing that they were moving out at last. She could hear Him talking to someone, another Woman, from the sound of the voice. Kat wanted to risk a peek out to see if it was Her, but what if she was discovered?

Curiosity got the best of her though, and she wriggled out from under the clothing, stretching up to try to see out. The top of the bag she had climbed into was zippered shut though, all but for an inch or two at the very end. Tiny hands parted the slight opening, just enough to let her peek out. From her vantage point, she could just see part of the Woman he must be speaking to. Kat could tell this was not Her though. This woman was more matronly, less fit and mission-ready. Silently she slipped back down into the bag.

She sensed movement again, bracing herself with a small hand on each side of the duffel, kneeling on the clothes she was so recently hiding in. The cold was they left the building was unexpected. She'd never been outside in the real world before, had never known temperatures that cold. Sometimes it had been cooler in the room where she stood on her shelf with the others, but never like this. Kat shivered, in itself a new experience for her. She burrowed back down into the folds of the uniforms, snuggling into the warmth they provided.

It was disorienting to be moving when she couldn't see out though. She was just beginning to feel a little queasy when the duffel was set down, all movement ceasing. She heard the car door closing, and then the sound of the motor starting, and she figured it must be some sort of transport to take them into the mission zone. Kat figured she'd better be ready for action on short notice. There was no telling how long it might take to reach their insertion point.

She drew her Desert Eagle, checking the magazine before slamming it home again in the well with the heel of her tiny hand. Then her survival/combat knife; the blade gleaming in the dim light that filtered through the slight opening in the duffel. Nodding confidently, Kat knew she was ready for the mission, whatever it turned out to be.

Suddenly the zipper was pulled open above her head, spilling light in on her. His hand reached in, feeling around for something. Kat pressed her back against the end of the bag, watching as his hand felt around closer and closer to her. She thought for certain He'd find her. Her hand dropped to the hilt of her knife as she considered whether she would need to defend herself. But no. Not against Him. The Woman regarded Him highly, obviously. So Katrina would not raise a hand against him.

She moved back, pressing even closer to the end of the cloth duffel, making the end wall bulge out a little. His hand settled on some flat smooth squares, pulling both out of the bag. Kat breathed a little sigh of relief and was just relaxing when the music began.

This was a new thing! It was like the sounds that He made to the big animal, but different. Her tiny lips curled into a smile in response to the sound. It made her feel good inside somehow. She wanted to see where it was coming from.

Taking the risk that He might see her, she popped her head up through the opening, just enough so her eyes cleared the edge of the zipper for a look around. The transport vehicle was big to her, but smaller and less military than she'd imagined it would be. She could see the passing tops of trees through the windshield glass and out the side window. The rhythmic dip and rise of the telephone lines along the roadway entranced her for a few long moments. Slowly she turned, taking in the interior of the Subaru until her eyes alit on Him.

He was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music. She watched Him, noting the connection between the movement of his fingers and the rhythm of the music. Soon her own fingers were tapping on the zipper teeth on the edge of the opening. She studied Him. It was the first time she'd really had a chance to do so since her awakening. There was no animal here to chase her, and He was too preoccupied to notice her watching from hiding. Unlike earlier, she had a good view of him.

Compared to her, He was huge! But in proportion, she decided that she liked His looks. He seemed fit and capable, though a little older than most soldiers. He was ruggedly handsome, and her little mouth curved in a smile of admiration. She could hardly wait to see Him in action, she thought.

Lost in her reverie, she almost didn't notice the slowing of the vehicle until it turned off suddenly. Ducking down to hide again instinctively, she felt the vehicle come to a stop, heard rather than saw the door open and felt the cold draft of air as He got out. She peeked out again after hearing the door close again.

He was gone!

Was this their destination? Was the mission underway without her? He shouldn't have left her behind! He'd need her help!

Hurriedly she scrambled out of the duffel bag and ran across the seat, jumping the console gap, and then running across His seat, still warm from His body. She clambered up to stand on the arm rest, pulling herself up on her toes to peek out the side window. There He was, just entering a glass fronted building with a bright colorful sign above the entrance, lit up and glowing with red letters. He was going in alone, unarmed!

Desperately, she studied the door, trying to figure out how it would open. But it was no use. Even if she could figure out how to open it, she was far too small to push open the (to her) massive door. Frustrated and near panic, she climbed back up on the armrest to look out the window again. What could he be thinking! How could she get to Him if he needed help?

There He was! She could just make out his form, sitting in front of one of the huge windows of the glass fronted building. He didn't seem to be in trouble...yet. He seemed to be calmly waiting, perhaps to rendezvous with a secret contact to gain intel on the mission. She began to calm herself, realizing that she'd need to keep a clear head if trouble broke out. She couldn't help Him if she was in a state of panic. She glanced over her shoulder, spotting the mission gear bag still on the opposite seat. The sight calmed her a bit. Surely He wouldn't go into action without his gear. Perhaps this was only a preliminary check point to the mission.

She would watch.....and wait.

James stood outside the diner, his hands in his jacket pockets. He breathed in the cold air slowly and breathed it back out just as slowly, watching his breath fly away on the light breeze. The cars ran along 53, but it wasn’t busy.

Everyone was home with their families.

It felt good to eat a big hearty breakfast. James was always careful to eat well, a throwback from his previous career, but a big greasy bacon and egg breakfast with the lot had been just what he needed. He smiled wryly to himself.

Almost like self-flagellation.

He had been so disciplined with his body and his eating that sometimes it was an obsession.

Who are you kidding? Sometimes….

He stretched his arms above him and swung them around to loosen them. He had never become accustomed to the cold here. It was never this cold where he came from. He could remember surfing, swimming, fishing….. growing up. He’d wanted that life for his own kids.

Jenn’s kids.

But now there would be no kids.

Not with Jenn.

Not with anyone else.

He could feel himself becoming melancholy and he didn’t want that. Jenn’s parents didn’t deserve it. The whole family would be there so he would have to grit his teeth and get through it.

A drink and a smile, James. Easy.

Well, maybe more than one drink.

Then smile.

He got on very well with the Bramptons. They were lovely people and they also had genuine affection for him. He didn’t get on so well with Jenn’s brother and sister, but there was nothing he could do about that. They were spoilt, plain and simple. They had been raised in a solid middle-class home and had all the advantages of that, but they wanted more. The problem was, they wanted it easy. They were jealous of Jenn and James and thought they’d been lucky. Luck had nothing to do with whatever he had, but he just bit his tongue and looked at the ceiling usually.

Both of Jenn’s siblings were older than him. Her brother, Sean, was four years older. He was a salesman for an electrical goods company and he still lived in Plymouth. His wife, Marlene, was a social climber who was always pushing her husband to do something else – code for make me more fucking money - and spent it like it was about to rain down from the sky at any moment. They had two kids, Alice and Gretel.

James smiled, recalling one night after a few drinks at a family dinner, how he’d actually asked what it was with the fairytale names. Marlene had stared at him blankly. What fairytale names? Jenn had kicked him under the table and given him a stern look, but he knew then that Marlene's mind was a blackboard with no chalk. It didn’t particularly bother him as he rarely saw them except for holidays and family occasions, but he didn’t like her.

There. I admitted it. Life is too short.

Jenn knows that. Well, she knew it.

Just tell it like it is.

And fuck it.

You could die tomorrow….

He knew he wouldn’t do that because he respected Mr. and Mrs. Brampton too much, but it made him feel better to think it.

Jenn’s sister, Elise, was even worse. She was the most spoilt person he’d ever met. She was two years older than James. Before he’d married Jenn, she’d even managed to make a pass at him on his first visit from Australia. He’d been wary of her ever since. She was married to a lawyer, but they were separated at the moment.

Lucky him.

Elise had one boy, Max. He seemed like a good kid, but he was never….engaged was the word. He never seemed interested or passionate about anything. Every time James saw them, he’d be on the computer, internet surfing or playing a game.

A truck drove past, splashing water up. James was still standing outside the diner. Thinking and looking blankly ahead.

Shit.

He could feel sadness coming on.

Don’t.

He didn’t have long to go. He would be there in around an hour even if he took his time. Lunch would be a late one and Mrs. Brampton had made sure that the presents he’d sent had been left under the tree to be opened later in the night. It was her way of giving him some Christmas cheer.

Fucking Christmas cheer.

He pressed the remote on the car and quickly got in and sat with his hands gripping the wheel . He hated it when he felt like this. He felt his chest begin to tighten and his breathing became forced.

Why did you go?

His eyes were welling up and he fought the urge to cry. The tears built up until one fell from his eye and slowly rolled down his cheek.

Great.

Once a tear fell, he knew others would follow. He couldn’t see through his eyes now and the tears were rolling freely. He could get a tissue, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to feel like this. Abandoned. Hurt. By himself.

“Why?” he said out aloud. “It’s not fucking fair and you know it.”

The tears were now pouring from him and he was sniffling after every sentence.

“I’ll never fucking care about anything again. You know that? You’re a bastard. You took her…..the only thing I wanted….the only thing I needed.”

He was losing control now and the front of his shirt was soaked.

“The. Only. Fucking. Thing. You took it….”

He sat back with his head against the head rest and pushed on the steering wheel. He didn’t want to face anyone. He wanted to curl up and keep the world out. Sit with Casper and her dolls and drink. Drink enough to die. Who cared?

Not you, you bastard.

He could be back in his apartment.

Alone.

Not alone. The dog and the dolls. The doll. He could talk to her.

“Any interesting missions you been on lately? Think you could help me get out of this?” he said out loud. “I think I need a hand.”

The tears had stopped. It was funny how the thought of talking to the doll made him feel better.

Be careful. It’s not funny ha-ha, more funny loony-bin.

It was absurd, but he wanted to get back home. To Casper. To the doll.

It was Jenn’s favourite doll. He was Jenn’s favourite guy. They’d both got left behind. He smiled. But at least they were together. Oh, and Casper. A drunk, a dog and a doll. Alliterative.

Sounds like the title of a book.

He smiled again.

That’s better. Don’t want to cry. It’s Christmas.

“You probably couldn’t help me anyway, dolly. Helping me, now that would take a miracle.”

He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. He slowly made his way towards the exit with one hand on the wheel and one hand in his bag, looking for another CD.

I need something a bit more upbeat.

He took two or three out. The top one was Sugarland.

Good. I need something happy.

He pulled the car back on to Route 53 and then pushed the CD into the player. “Settlin’” crashed on and all of a sudden he felt better.

I have to get over this.

How do you get over losing what you love the most?

I don’t know.

But I just have to.

He pushed the accelerator down harder.

Let’s get this over and done with.

She watched. She waited. She grew more tense and anxious by the moment that He just sat in there, visible through the big window. She knew that some missions required waiting patiently like this. But somehow this mission was different. He was along on this one. She was backing Him up on this one. So her nerves were getting to her.

It showed in the little things. Like the way she kept checking the load in her pistol, dropping the magazine, staring at the top round for a long moment, then slapping the clip back home in the magazine well of her Desert Eagle. Of course it was only molded plastic, painted to resemble a full clip of rounds. But it was amazingly detailed for being only 1/6th scale. Even the slide on her pistol could be cycled back. Kat never doubted that first round had chambered normally; no failures to feed or stovepipes for her.

She'd just checked her load for the 3rd time, slapping the mag home with the heel of her tiny hand again and jacking that slide, chambering the first round in battery, ready for action, when He emerged from the building. Kat pressed herself tightly to the car door, standing on her tip toes on the arm rest to stretch up enough to see out the side window. Her fingers hooked over the lip of the window well, her eyes just above the edge of the door, peering out to watch Him as He stretched his arms. He was just standing there. Why was He hesitating? Was He waiting for something to happen?

She watched as He swung His arms around. Perhaps He was signaling someone. Maybe his contact with the intel for the mission? Kat looked around hoping to see some covert operative who might respond. If He had another partner on this mission, she needed to know so she didn't accidentally blow the person's cover or have some unfortunate friendly fire incident. That would blow the mission for sure.

And besides, maybe his contact was the Woman. This thought made Kat look around even more excitedly. It had been so long since she'd seen the Woman at their home base. The Woman never came around the shelf anymore. And although time passed by without Kat really comprehending it when she was on her shelf, still she'd been aware it had been a long time.

But she saw no one. Whoever it was He was signaling, they weren't about to expose themselves or blow their cover. Maybe it was a signal to initiate a drop off of the intel, Kat thought. She glanced around again, just to make sure. There, maybe at that box where the newspapers were sold. She watched as another man came up to the box, inserted a coin, opened the front panel and took one of the papers.

Ah, clever! she thought. Insert the recon reports in the newspaper, and then all He would have to do is make sure to buy the right copy. It seemed a little dicey, but Kat thought it could be done, if the operatives were sharp and on the ball. She, herself, was not the sort for those type of covert details. She preferred direct action, aggressive negotiations, and certain outcomes. But this was the first mission they'd teamed up on, and maybe He was the undercover type.

She returned her attention to watching him, waiting for him to pick up the drop. Suddenly a large transport vehicle roared past, splashing up water. The deluge pounded against the window she was peering out of, making a loud sound and startling her. She flinched backwards instinctively and lost her balance on the armrest of the car door, falling. She landed on the seat, half over the edge. It stunned her, and before she could recover, she slipped down further, finally ending up between the edge of the seat and the car door, partially under the seat.

Kat shook her head to clear her rattled wits, then a loud chirrup sounded from the car. Damn! She thought she might have triggered some sort of alarm in the transport. Out of reflex, she rolled further under the seat, hiding. Just then the door opened, blasting her in the chill air. He got in, His weight making the seat depress almost down on top of her. She pressed herself to the floorboard, but she still had room enough to squirm out.

Emerging from between His large feet, she heard Him speak. But this time there was a raw edge to his voice. It didn't sound like the nervous jitters that some agents got when about to embark on a dangerous mission. This was different. This was emotional. She stepped back, away from the front edge of the car seat, between His feet, until she could get a good look at His face. She had to know what was wrong. If her mission partner was having some kind of breakdown, she wanted to know before the shooting started. She stopped in her little steps when she saw Him, face contorted in anguish, His eyes blinded with tears.

Kat didn't know how to react to this. The raw, hard edged words that He was saying, punctuated by emotional sniffles after each word, had captured her and left her uncertain. She just stood there, listening and watching. She felt strange inside. Her own eyes moistened and threatened to spill over. Inside the core of herself, she felt the sinking lump of grief and sadness weighing her down. It was as if His feelings were affecting her too somehow.

Her small chest began to heave with the same racking sobs that shook Him. She wiped at her eyes, bewildered how this could be affecting her so strongly. She knew they'd both have to pull it together if they hoped to have a positive mission outcome.

And then He spoke again. It seemed like He was speaking directly to her, asking about her previous missions. Had He known she'd come along? She thought she'd been careful, but maybe He had spotted her.

"Think you could help me get out of this?” he said out loud. “I think I need a hand.”

Kat took a step forward, about to answer, but trying to get those sobs under control first. It wouldn't do to give Him the impression she couldn't handle this. If He needed her help, He would need her to be strong, on her toes. Kat was determined not to let Him down. She was about to reply when He spoke again.

“You probably couldn’t help me anyway, dolly. Helping me, now that would take a miracle.”

Kat started forward to protest an answer, wanting to reassure him that the emotional outburst was only nerves, or mission jitters, or something. It was a matter of pride with her that He knew she was ready and able to back Him up.

Just then he reached to fire the transport's engine to life, and those huge feet began moving around her. One lifted above her, only to descend right for her! She scurried back quickly, tripping and falling back against the floorboard, partly behind the large flat metal pad. His foot descended upon it, pressing it down towards her face. She pressed her back to the floor, turning her face to the side as the pedal pushed closer and closer to her head!

Just as it seemed certain He was trying to crush her, His foot lifted and the pedal moved back up and away. Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, Kat rolled away from it, making a dive back to the front edge of the seat, pressing her back tightly against it between His legs.

A new music filled the air, and she liked the sound. It was a good distraction that helped calm her from her near accident, and it chased away some of the emotional feelings that had seized her temporarily. She thought about what had happened, still confused at His actions and at why it seemed that she felt what He felt so strongly. She didn't have an answer for either question. He had spoken to her, of that much she was sure. But then had He tried to crush her beneath His foot? He hadn't looked at her. Had He even seen her down there?

The more she thought of it, the more she believed it was not intentional. After all, they were partners on this mission. He surely wouldn't jeopardize that even if He thought she really couldn't' help him much. But if it had been accidental, perhaps she should let him know where she was so he didn't almost crush her again, she thought.

Considering it carefully, she was about to step out into plain sight to confront Him, when she felt the car speed up, taking a curve a little fast, and nearly throwing her off balance. She accidentally fell into the side of His leg as His foot pressed on the accelerator.

He was gunning it, pushing the car. He knew that the Subaru stuck like shit to a blanket, but he was pushing it to the limit. He smiled. His dad used to say that. At least it wasn’t raining, so he felt in control.

He had to stop thinking like this, he thought, his eyes staring at the road ahead. He’d be of no use to anyone if he moped for the rest of his life.

The feelings were supposed to pass. He didn’t know how. He wasn’t a shrink. Shit, he’d avoided feelings most of his life, or at least trying to understand them. Now, they told him to let go of his feelings, just when they’d begun hitting him. Even her parents told him to let her go.

Jen.

Let her go.

He would feel better.

He’d heard about people who still felt their limbs after they’d lost them, and now he was supposed to forget her? No, they didn’t say forget, just that he should get on with his life.

What life?

She was his life.

Had been….

Jennifer Nettles was blasting out of the radio.

“There's gotta be something more, gotta be more than this,
I need a little less hard time, I need a little more bliss….”

James pressed his foot down and gave the car another significant boot. The turbo was whining loudly, even over the music. He was going around a bend and it was just slick enough that the car’s tail started to very slightly slide towards the bend as the nose pointed forwards, back into the lane. He righted the car easily, but realised he was pushing it. He didn’t really care about himself, rather it was the thought of hurting someone else that kept him in check. He slowed a little.

He felt something against his leg. It was probably one of Casper’s toys or an old water bottle he’d left under the seat. He was about to kick it back under, but he had a glance down.

Against his leg, there was a hand.

It was a little hand….

A what?

Fuck.

Hand?

“What the….” he said out loud to himself.

He took his foot off the accelerator and the engine brake slowed the car down. There was no one behind him. In fact, there was no one on the road. They were all with their families.

Except him.

He took another quick glance. Nothing. It was probably a rat. Same one in the apartment. Must have got in the bag.

The stress must be really getting to me.

A rat paw didn’t look like a hand.

It was a hand that he saw.

It was.

Little.

Small.

A hand.

The car was rolling more slowly now and he dropped the gears and pulled it over onto the dirt on the side of the road. He slowed to a stop.

James looked down at his leg.

“Fuck me.”

She was there.

Standing, pressed against his leg and looking up at him.

“….I'm gonna take my chances
Taking a chance I might find what I'm looking for
There's gotta be something more….”

It was her.

The doll.

Looking up at him, blinking.

Alive.

Kat's hand clutched at the fabric of His jeans, trying to gain a hold though the heavy denim cloth would not yield to her small fingers. She'd just about steadied herself when He lifted His foot and moved His leg. At the same moment, the transport began to decelerate rather suddenly. The inertia made her stumble backwards rapidly, back towards those big metal platforms again. A moment of panic flashed through her as the thought of nearly getting crushed under His foot returned.

Her backwards stumbling ended in her little feet tripping on the edge of the floor mat where it met the carpet. The sudden change in texture beneath her footing unceremoniously dumped her on her little rear end, forcing an undignified grunt out of her as her breath left her lungs in a huff.

Kat recovered herself, getting up again and dusting off her shorts. Her hair was wild and disheveled, and her T-shirt was partly untucked from the waistband of her shorts. Little bits of detritus from the floorboards clung to her clothes and in her auburn hair. She turned an angry glare on Him. What the hell was He doing? The erratic way He was operating the transport not only had dumped her on her backside, but it was sure to be noticed, sure to draw attention and risk exposing them before their mission was fully successful. Gone was the emotional empathy she'd felt with him a moment or so before. Now she was mad!

He may have been emotionally distraught, and maybe He had some pre-mission jitters to work through, but you just didn't blow things because of your feelings! There was no excuse! She stalked towards the seat, pausing to glare up at him, all thoughts of remaining hidden as a stowaway until He needed her were gone now. Someone needed to talk some sense into Him, set Him straight before He ruined their chances. She had to confront Him, but the seat was too high to risk climbing up in case He started the transport moving again. She glanced to the side, noting the transmission hump leading to the center console, and ducked under His leg to head for it.

Grabbing fistfulls of the carpet fiber helped her scramble up to the center console, then up to the passenger seat cushion where she turned to face him. Her movements were quick and sharp, indicating her agitation. She glared at him with her little hands on her hips, fuming.

Her mouth moved, as if chewing her words as they formed. She seemed mad enough to spit! But in truth, she was trying to work out how to make the sounds that would make Him understand what she wanted Him to know. It frustrated her that she didn't know too many of his sounds, and the frustration only added to her anger.

Her hand drifted down to rest the heel of her palm on the butt of her pistol, a reflexive reaction. But then her face brightened as a memory returned to her. She raised her hand to Him, shaking a tiny finger as she took a deep breath. She would make the little whispery sound again, and she wanted to make sure he heard her. She would give it all she had and her anger lent her force behind it as she let rip.

"NO!"

The volume of sound that came out of her surprised even her and she gave a little start, her hand flying up to cover her mouth in shock. But she recovered quickly, inwardly pleased that she could be heard even over the music. Looking back at him, her surprised look returning to one of stern chastisement, she pointed to the big round wheel he had been gripping to maneuver the transport and then shook her finger at his face again.

"No!"

It wasn't much, but she hoped that powerful controlling sound that he'd used on the large black 'kasper' would work on him too. Maybe he would understand. She was through being tossed about!

I’m fucking crazy.

For a second, he almost had an impulse to grab her, but it passed.

The doll was looking up at him, hands on hips, her red hair wildly mussed up. Correction, auburn hair. He half smirked. Jen had always said it was auburn. Auburn, red. He’d never really understood the difference.

It’s green eyes were blazing with anger. Her eyes. It was alive. It was a her, not an it.

He shook his head and closed his eyes. When he opened them, she was still there. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but he was definitely seeing something.

Unless he was mad? Crazy?

She was raising her hand to him. The doll. The girl.

What the fuck is she?

She waved her index finger at him, as if berating him. She meant business. She took a breath and her lips moved.

"NO!"

He sat there, looking down at her, almost in shock. The irony dawned on him that he was speechless in the face of a talking doll.

She could speak. Talk. Speak.

Fuck. Speak?

He could only sit still and watch her. This was the most improbable thing he’d ever seen in his life. The doll was looking at him with a stern look on her face.

She was telling him off. She wasn’t any higher than his knee and she was chastising him. She waved towards the steering wheel and then started waving her index finger at him again.

"No!"

She was there. He couldn’t doubt it. He switched the music off, moving his hand slowly so as not to scare her.

He knew she was angry about something and by the way she was pointing at the steering wheel, it was probably to do with his driving. He had been going too quickly and taking the bends way too hard. His driving had been pretty dangerous. Maybe she was a guardian angel?

Hudson. You’re thirty six years old, for Christ’s sake. Guardian angel?

Jenn had bought the doll many years ago anyway, before there had been any inkling or signs of her illness. Maybe the doll….

Stop rationalising this, it’s a fucking doll. It’s fucking alive. Do something.

The only thing he could think to do was smile. She looked back at him with those green eyes. She was actually a…. beautiful… doll? A beautiful…. doll-woman? Beautiful…. woman?

Fuck me. What is she?

His head was spinning so he gave up trying to describe her.

“I guess….I guess,” he said, nodding his head and stammering at the reality of talking to a doll, “I was driving a little quickly.”

He smiled at her and raised his hands with his palms upwards to show that he understood and that he was sorry. She was still on the floor of the car next to his legs.

“Um, would you like to get up? It’s ok, I know you,” he said. “You’re safe with me.”

He reached down slowly, and placed his hand in front of her, his palm upwards so she could sit or stand on it. He didn’t put it too closely to her in case she was afraid. She would have to trust him and, at her size, he figured trust would be a significant issue.

He looked at the pistol on her side and smiled at her.

“Although, to be honest, it looks like I’ll be safer with you than you are with me.”

He winked at her.

I’m talking to a doll.

He didn’t care. It was Jenn’s.

She was Jenn’s.

She was his.

He smiled.

At least she was making him smile.

She couldn't stay mad at Him, not when He smiled at her like that. Her green eyes softened slightly, though her hands didn't leave her hips just yet. Her pose was all attitude, but the corners of her lips wanted to turn upwards.

He made a gesture with His hands, and spoke to her. His voice was calm, kind, gentle. He seemed to be trying to make amends for being so reckless. Somehow Kat could understand the meaning of His sounds, though she'd have to practice some to be able to make them herself.

And now that He was looking right at her, she found His features fascinating. It's no wonder He would be a favorite in the Woman's collection. He was so lifelike! She watched Him lean forward a little to see her better. He held out His hand towards her, holding it slightly in front of her.

Kat looked at His hand. Then back at Him. Then she took a hesitant step closer to the giant hand. Her eyes scrutinized His face searching for His intent. Kat didn't think He meant her any harm. He smiled again, His voice friendly and reassuring. He was probably just glad to find out He had back-up on His mission, she figured.

She glanced down at the giant hand before her, leaning down to examine it closer. Her little green eyes squinted, peering closely. She held out her own hand, palm upwards, unconsciously mimicking His gesture. She studied her hand, then moved closer to His, kneeling to see better. Tentatively, she stretched out a finger, tracing the lines, loops, and whorls of His fingerprints. Her touch was light, almost like the brush of a breeze.

He was amazing, Kat thought. The level of detail was simply incredible! Perhaps because He was such a large scale figure, it was easier to sculpt such details. She turned back to Him, her tiny lips beaming a smile. She'd wanted to get a closer look at Him, and now He was giving her the chance. He'd make a great mission partner. No doubt with His level of quality, He was sure to come with some amazing accessories. Maybe even a spring loaded grappling hook launcher!

Her small hand rested on the tip of His index finger where she'd been studying His fingerprint. As she looked back at His warm and friendly smile, she decided to trust Him. He had given her the closer look she'd wanted, and now it seemed He wanted to see her closer too. She eased herself onto His hand, sitting squarely in the middle of His palm, scooting back and reaching out to hold onto His thumb and forefinger for balance.

Her breath still hitched a little in her throat as He lifted her up so easily until He could see her more clearly. From here, she was able to get a very good look at Him too. And there were other sensations. His warm breath seemed to caress her skin like a breeze, stirring her hair slightly. She closed her eyes to savor the sensation, but opened them again when she sensed the bright flashing light that painted blue lightening against her eyelids. The same bright blue flashes reflected from His face when she opened her eyes to see where it came from.

Through the back view portal of the transport, she could see another vehicle, the strobing lights on it's roof being the source of the rapid flashing. As Kat watched, she could see a uniformed soldier emerge and start towards their mission transport. The trooper would approach Him from behind, a tactical advantage. Kat realized the soldier was trying to get the drop on them both. Her eyes flashed a warning to Him, her lips grimly pressed together. Her hand crept towards her pistol as she pointed over His shoulder at the oncoming threat.

He watched her looking at him, alternating between his face and his hand. She didn’t look so angry anymore about his driving. Her hands were still on her hips, her posture one of independence. She looked….cute.

Cute?

He kept smiling at her, his hand outstretched, both in friendship and because he wanted a better look at her. He wanted her to trust him. She was with him in this. Where had she been before this? Was she actually the same doll on the shelf at home? He hadn’t looked when he left. Why would he?

Those green eyes kept looking at him. She was softening now, he could tell. He could always tell when people softened around him. No one could stay mad at him for long. He was like that. It wasn’t just that he was nice. Or a pushover. Or soft. He had….

….respect. That’s what he had.

Respect.

Everyone was worth that. He had been hurt and he had hurt others too.

Even Jenn.

But it came down to respect. Maybe the doll knew that. Maybe not. He hoped she knew. A sudden flush of embarrassment came over him. He’d often spoken to the doll, especially in the past few months as he had begun to slowly drink more. The doll and Casper.

Shit, if Casper starts talking….

He pushed the thought from his mind. It was enough that this was happening. Yet, he wasn’t questioning it. He was looking at her. Alive. He didn’t know how and he didn’t know why. He just accepted it.

She moved warily towards his hand. She was checking him out. He realised he hadn’t taken a breath since he’d offered her his hand. He slowly let air out through his nose, not wanting to startle her and then had to make a conscious effort to breathe normally.

I would be scared too if I was her.

She was looking at her hand and then his hand. Maybe it was the size difference? She moved even closer now, the look on her face one of curiosity. She knelt close to his hand. He could feel himself holding his breath again.

A tiny finger was extended and she ran it lightly over his finger. It felt like a feather. Like a breeze even. A tiny finger feeling his. She seemed fascinated by the finger prints, her finger tracing the grooves in their swirls. She looked back up at him.

She was smiling.

Oh God.

She was smiling. She looked like she'd made up her mind.

She moved closer to his hand and slid on to it. The feeling was indescribable. It wasn’t like an animal. This was a tiny….person. Sliding on to the palm of his hand, on her butt. Risking all. Trusting him. It made his heart beat a little faster.

You’re safe. Don’t worry. You’re safe.

He lifted her and she hung on to his forefinger and thumb. He raised her to about his chest and close to his face. She was the weight of a kitten, maybe less. He just looked at her and she looked at him. If he had gone mad, then this was a good mad. She was a doll. She had been a doll. Now she was alive. Like him.

Not like Jenn.

She sat in his hand, not very far from his face. She was relaxed. She closed her eyes as if allowing him to inspect her. He watched her. He could watch her all….

Her eyes opened suddenly and her expression turned to one of alarm and she had her lips pursed.

What have I done….?

It wasn’t him. She was pointing over his shoulder, behind him. He had been so transfixed with her that he hadn’t noticed anything else. He looked in the rear view mirror and saw blue lights and a man in a uniform walking up to the car.

Shit. Cop.

He was only ten or so metres from the car and walking slowly towards their car. He dropped his hand lower, into his lap so that it didn’t look like he’d been admiring a doll. A toy. In his lap, she wasn’t so obvious. At least he thought.

“Sorry, Commando Katrina,” he said looking down. “I mean, I’ll call you Kat, ok?”

He looked in the mirror, luckily the cop had stopped to check his registration, but he wouldn’t be long….He looked down at Kat, her green eyes looking up at him.

“Now you have to do me a favour, Kat,” he said. “You need to play dead. Like a doll. A real doll. Some people won’t understand you’re alive. Can you do that Kat? Please? For me?”

He heard the tap on the window and pressed his hand to his belly with his fingers wrapped around her middle. He was trying not to hurt Kat, but he had no sense of her comfort or otherwise.

Please play dead. Act like a doll.

He pressed the button on the door and the window slid down. Cold air blasted into the car and the cop slightly lowered his head to speak to him.

Sir,” he said.

“Yes?” said James.

“I saw your car parked here with the engine running and….”

“I’m visiting my family in Plymouth,” he said, “but I just realised I hadn’t wrapped my niece’s present.” He lifted Kat, taking care to hold her around the middle so that she had some support. “See.”

The cop nodded. “Nice doll,” he said.

James smiled weakly at him.

“The best,” he said. “But then I realised I don’t even have any paper on me. I was just punching an address into the GPS so that I could find a store.”

“There’ll be no stores open, sir,” said the cop. “You have an accent. Where are you from?”

“Australia.” James smiled. “And I thought it was you that had the accent.”

The cop chuckled. “Hey, wait a minute,” he said. He started to walk back towards his car quickly.

James took the chance to look down at Kat.

“Are you ok? Good job so far. If I hurt you, just pinch me or something, ok? Then I’ll know.”

The cop was back and he had something in his hand.

Wrapping paper.

“This might do the job for you, sir. I had some left over in the car from my own kids.”

James was surprised at his generosity.

“Well, thanks, officer….”

“Burns, sir. Sheldon Burns.”

A big strong hand came in the window and James shook it.

“Well, thanks Officer Burns. I appreciate it. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, sir.”

James was getting worried about Kat. He was still holding her in one hand on his lap. He hoped she was ok. She hadn’t signalled him yet….

“Officer Burns, do you need to see my licence or something. I’m running awfully late for lunch and….”

“No, sir. You go on ahead. Merry Christmas, sir.”

“Merry Christmas to you too.”

James was just about to roll his window up when the cop put his head back down into the window.

“And sir, that’s a mighty pretty doll. You must love your niece very much. It looks so real. It must have been expensive.”

“Yes,” said James, “I do love my niece very much. I guarantee you, Officer Burns, that not many people could afford this doll. I’m very fortunate to have her. But it’s family, you know? No expense spared.”

He winked at the cop.

“Yes sir, I do know. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

The cop walked off and finally James could slide the window back up.

“Fuck it’s cold,” he said out loud. He watched in the mirror as the cop got into his car and when he felt it was safe he lifted Kat back up to his chest and let her get out of his grip and so she could sit back on his palm. He rolled his eyes with a wry smile. “Oh, sorry about the language.”

The cop car drove past with a honk. James waved without looking up. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

She seemed ok.

“That was a close call and you handled it well. I think we can make a good team….Kat.”

He smiled at her sitting in his hand.

He knew one thing. He’d smiled more with her than he had in the whole year since Jenn had passed away.

“A good team,” he murmured again.

I was part of a team once.

With Jenn.

Maybe I can be again.

It would have to be a head shot, she decided. Even through the semi-frosted back glass of the transport; she could tell that the approaching trooper had body armor underneath his uniform. She’d just revealed herself to Him and their partnership was getting off to a good start. She wasn’t going to let Him get taken now by one of the enemy soldiers.

Her Desert Eagle had almost cleared her holster. There was no time to attach a silencer, but she’d apologize for nearly blowing out His eardrums later, when they were safe. There didn’t seem to be any others around. There would be no witnesses to what had to be done. They’d hide the soldier’s remains so that he wouldn’t be discovered until after their mission was completed.

Suddenly He lowered her down to hold her protectively close to His body, spoiling her shot. She looked up at Him, about to protest, when He spoke to her. She thrilled when He called her by name, and it brought a smile to her tiny lips. He even wanted to call her by her nickname! Only agents who were close trusted partners were that informal. She nodded, eager to enjoy that kind of rapport with Him.

Then He was asking her to pretend to be dead.

No, not dead. Stiff. Like the others back on her shelf. He wanted her to adopt an undercover identity, just another doll in the collection. She was reluctant to go back to that stiffness. Being able to move freely made her like Him, a special agent in the Woman’s collection. But for the sake of their mission, Kat decided to play along. She tried to adopt the vapid silly smile that she remembered the other stiffs having plastered on their faces.
But she couldn’t help shivering when the cold blast of air surged in when He opened the window to allow the soldier to interrogate Him. She stiffened her joints, trying to remain immobile. He had closed His giant fingers around her body, as gently as possible, but still snug so she wouldn’t slip. It was a good thing, because His body warmth helped her to resist the urge to shiver.

Kat listened as the soldier interrogated her partner. He was good, thinking of a plausible cover story that would explain her presence and still not blow His own cover. Inside, she felt a surge of pride at having a partner who was turning out to be so clever. This way would be better, if it worked. No casualties, and no bodies to risk being found at some inopportune moment.

She watched as the soldier left for a moment, returning to his own transport vehicle. That's when He smiled down at her, asking if she were okay. She winked back at Him, nodding slightly. It was all there was time to do before the enemy soldier returned. To her surprise, he offered some brightly colored paper to her partner. Was this some kind of coded transfer of intel? Kat listened carefully to the words that were exchanged, and recognized a phrase she's heard Him say a few times before. The enemy soldier said it too. Maybe he wasn't actually an enemy. Maybe he was an undercover agent, and maybe that phrase was the code word. She remembered that He had said the same words to the older woman who took the black 'kasper' beast.

Kat watched the other operative leave, apparently satisfied that her partner had given the right code word and reply. The tension in her little body eased knowing they'd made contact with someone on the inside. She shivered, trembling in His hand. Whether it was the release of adrenaline from the encounter, or the last chill wind before He closed the window, she wasn't sure.

He looked down at her and smiled.

She couldn't help smiling back. Inside she felt funny, like pre-mission jitters, but a little different. She liked it when He smiled at her.

" I think we can make a good team….Kat.”

She wanted to use more of those words He made. She understood, and she wanted Him to know. She settled into His palm again, her tiny hands rubbing His thumb and finger in a caress.

"Good.....team. Mary....Kissmess?"

The cop had disappeared from view. It was just James and the doll now. He corrected himself.

Kat.

She was smiling at him again, brilliant green eyes and red hair.

Oh, auburn.

She settled comfortably into his hand again. He had it up against his chest so that she had some support. She was not so small that she fit entirely on there and he didn’t want her falling off. She was sitting back and her hands were again rubbing his fingers, the light touch making him almost giggle. Her small hands were smaller than the pads on his fingertips, not quite able to cover the area to the first joint. The feeling was of a feather being run over them, but there was nothing ticklish about it. It was a sensuous feeling….

He shook his head to stop his mind wandering.

She’s just curious.

He also thought she was showing him that she trusted him and that she knew what he was talking about, that she understood.

She looked up.

"Good.....team. Mary....Kissmess?"

Merry Christmas.

James broke into a light laugh. Her voice brought no shock to him now. She was trying to tell him again that she understood. He nodded with a smile.

“Yes.”

His mind went back to the sensations of her exploration of his hand. Her fingers on his skin felt exquisite. He didn’t know whether it was because she was so small or because she was a link to Jenn, but the feel of her soothed him. Well, not just soothed, it was more than that….

He lifted her up again gently towards his face and gave her a very light kiss on her forehead. He was wary of hurting or frightening her. He pulled back and spoke to her again.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” he said. “….Kat.”

He could have sat there in his car, on the side of the road, holding her all day, but he wanted to talk to her and he needed to get to the Brampton’s house, otherwise he would soon be running late.

“I’m putting you down on top of my leg,” he said. “Then we can talk. Ok, Kat?”

He liked using her name. She looked like a Kat. She looked like a warrior. A beautiful warrior. He thought the top of the dash would be too uncomfortable for her. He reached over and grabbed a folded shirt from his travel bag on the next seat so that she could sit a little higher.

“Bear with me, just making it comfortable.”

He laid the folded shirt over the top of his thigh, running his hand over it to make a depression that he hoped would be more secure. Then he moved his other hand with her sitting on it and gently sat her down on the shirt.

He put a hand behind her back just in case she fell back, but she looked competent to him. In fact, she looked more than competent to him. She looked able: tanned, fit and armed.

He smiled.

Well, she is a commando. My type of girl.

For a few seconds he didn’t say anything. He just looked down at the surreal sight of her, not much bigger than twelve inches, sitting on his thigh. His hand at her back, feeling her hair and skin.

She feels….real.

Fuck, James. She is real.

Or, I’m mad. Delusional. Grieving.

“Is that ok?” he said once she looked settled.

He kept looking at her. He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. Soon, she’d be thinking he was slow or something.

But she looks so beautiful. So perfect.

And she’s Jenn’s.

Was.

“I think we need something warm for you,” he said, indicating with his head to the side window. “It’s warm enough in here, but it’s cold out there.”

He had no doubt at all she knew what he was talking about.

“We’re going to see Jenn’s family. Only for one night, not long, but we have to be careful. Ok?”

He paused, looking for recognition. He couldn’t resist and ran his fingers lightly over her back again, even ruffling her hair a little.

He smiled again, apologetically.

“Sorry….but it’s still….I’ll try to stop.”

It was like having a new toy. He smiled at the irony. She wasn’t a toy.

Anymore.

“Anyway,” he continued, “people won’t understand you are alive. You’ll have to look like a doll in front of them, like you did with the policeman. That was good, very good. You’re a good soldier. Can you do that again? For me?”

Her eyes and face looked so intelligent.

Capable.

He didn’t really want to go to the Brampton’s now, but they were expecting him. He also didn’t want them thinking that he didn’t care about them anymore now that Jenn was gone. They had to go, but they would be careful.

“Is that ok?” he repeated. “We can work out later what we’re going to do, but for now we have to be careful.”

He smiled at her again.

If I don’t stop smiling, no one will recognize me.

He ran his fingers down her back again and over her bare arms.

Amazing.

She was alive. Warm. Human.

She was Kat. She was one of them now. James, Kat and Casper. He had to take care of her. A small pang of guilt struck him.

Take care of her better than I did Jenn....

He spoke to her in a soft voice, looking at her earnestly.

“I’ll take care of you,” he said. “Promise.”

He turned the climate control in the car up a little warmer. He reached over and grabbed a face washer towel from his bag. Then he grabbed a pen from the slot in the console. He had to use both hands for a moment, but she looked stable enough on his thigh. He stuck the pen into the little towel and pushed till he worked it through. Then he worked his finger into the hole to make it bigger. He kept working at the hole until it was big enough for her head so that she could wear it like a poncho. He looked down at her again and she was watching him with those eyes. She knew what he was doing. He could tell. He wondered if he would ever get used to looking at her. To not staring. It had only been less than half an hour, but he couldn’t imagine not always being enchanted with her the way he was now.

“This isn’t much, but it will keep you warm for now till we go shopping for clothes.”

He paused and then winked at her.

“Clothes….They can be your Christmas present.”

He passed the makeshift miniature poncho to her. She was strong enough and independent enough to put it on herself. Plus, he was feeling self conscious at his need to touch her all the time, to feel her, to make sure that she existed in all of his senses. His melancholy mood had almost left him, however, and that was tangible enough for him.

She's real.

“I think I’ve had all my Christmas presents at once,” he said to her. “I’ll never need another one again.”

Ever.

Kat couldn't help smiling at Him. Whatever sorrow He had felt before seemed to be gone. She hadn't really had time to consider why His emotional outburst had affected her so profoundly. And now that His mood was a happy one, it, too, was contagious for her. And hearing Him call her by name, even using her nickname, gave her a warm feeling inside. She wasn't sure how He knew her name, but He did. Maybe He had read a mission briefing profile on her before they left. Or maybe the Woman had briefed Him about her.

It didn't matter to Kat where He had learned about her, only that He had. And He didn't seem upset that she had stowed away in His gear bag to come along. In fact, He seemed glad that she was here with Him. He probably realized how dangerous the mission is, and is glad to have back-up, she thought.

He lifted her again, bringing her to His lips. At first she leaned away, unsure of His intention, but as she realized it was a kiss, she blushed. It was completely inappropriate behavior between agents on a mission. It could compromise both their safety and mission effectiveness. But at the same time, she was flattered and happy that He seemed to like her.

It showed in the way that He carefully made a place for her on His lap with one of His uniform shirts. It was comfortable and soft, and helped to keep her warmer. He also showed how He cared in the way He kept His hand behind her back to support her. She didn't mind the way He touched her, His finger ruffling her hair. Kat leaned back into His hand, reaching out to caress her little hands over His fingers.

“Is that ok?” he said

Kat nodded, repeating, "Okay, yes." like she was trying out the words. She shivered a little from a draft.

“I think we need something warm for you,” he said, indicating with his head to the side window. “It’s warm enough in here, but it’s cold out there.”

"Yes. Fuck it's cold oh sorry about the language." She repeated the word sounds the way she had heard Him do it, even mimicking His accent. Then she smiled proudly up at Him, pleased with herself that she had remembered and learned to use so many of the word sounds at one time, and so soon after hearing them spoken. That they were His words made it even better for Kat.

“We’re going to see Jenn’s family. Only for one night, not long, but we have to be careful. Ok?”

Jenn. That must be the Woman's name. Kat seemed to know that without understanding how she knew it. But now her suspicions were confirmed. "An interesting mission. We'd make a good team, yes!"

Again He touched her, His large fingers so gentle, hardly nudging her. She patted His finger reassuringly, letting Him know she was ready and able to do whatever she needed to do to help Him find Jenn.

“Anyway,” He continued, “people won’t understand you are alive. You’ll have to look like a doll in front of them, like you did with the policeman. That was good, very good. You’re a good soldier. Can you do that again? For me?”

"Righto. Like a doll. A real doll. We don’t want to break the jumping rules, do we?” Again she copied His exact phrasing, His exact accent, perfectly. The only difference was her own little feminine voice. She could be heard now that she'd gotten the hang of projecting her voice more than just the whisper she'd started out with.

“Is that ok?” he repeated. “We can work out later what we’re going to do, but for now we have to be careful.”

Kat grinned and responded, ”I promise you I’ll be nice. Even if you’re a mouse!” It was clear that she could repeat back any phrase or words she'd heard Him use, but somehow she knew when they fit, not just repeating them back at random.

He caressed her again with His finger, along her back and her arm. His skin was warm, and it felt good. When He stopped, she shivered again, not entirely from the cold.

“I’ll take care of you,” he said. “Promise.”

Kat nodded as she watched him prepare the makeshift poncho. It was just the right size, and would do just fine until she could find something else.

“This isn’t much, but it will keep you warm for now till we go shopping for clothes.” He paused and then winked at her. “Clothes….They can be your Christmas present.”

She slipped the poncho over her head, arranging it just so. She liked it. It gave warmth without restricting her movements or access to her weapons. And her vision and other senses were still unhindered. Kat thought she could carry out her mission this way, and make Him proud of her. She looked back up at him, smiling.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” she said, then paused, frowning. She realized that He had been calling her by name, even knew her nickname, but she didn't know what to call Him. She looked up, puzzled and gestured to herself, her hands curling back to touch her chest lightly. "Commando Katrina." she repeated, again in perfect mimicry of His earlier words. Then she pointed at him, and said, “Well, whoever...... you are?" Her look and tone of voice, the first thing to depart from the way she'd heard Him say the words originally, made it clear that she was asking a question.

Hudson could have listened to her talk all day. He was well past the stage of incredulity. She was Kat and she was alive. He shook his head.

Of course.

She seemed comfortable with him and that was no mean feat considering his size, or more to the point, her size.

Her vocabulary was growing by the moment and she was using the words in their correct context. He could tell that it was an exponential growth and he hoped that by talking to her more, he would accelerate the process. As she improved, they would be able to communicate more easily. Maybe she would be able to explain why all of this was happening….

He smiled. He also had to make a note to take care with his language as she was prone to repeating even his inappropriate words. Her description of the weather as “fuck it’s cold” had made him both chuckle and wince.

“I promise you, I’ll be nice. Even if you’re a mouse!” she said.

Hudson nodded. So she had been alive in the apartment. She was the mouse.

She looked comfortable in her poncho and makeshift seat. Auburn hair, green eyes….

She's beautiful.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” she said.

“Thank you,” he said nodding to her.

She frowned, paused like she was thinking of something, but it was eluding her.

“Commando Katrina,” she said pointing to herself. Then she pointed a small finger at him, “Well, whoever….you are?”

There was a questioning tone to what she said. Oh, she wants to know my name.

“I’m James,” he said, “James Hudson.”

He looked at her, her eyes taking him in, no doubt connecting the name to his face. She was military, after all.

“I’m not a commando, so I’m glad lucky to have you. You know….to look after me.” He winked at her. “So you can call me James,” he said pointing to himself, “and I can call you Kat, I hope. That’ll make it easier.”

He paused again. “If I speak funny it’s because I’m not from here. I’m from Australia. Anyway,” he extended his hand, “pleased to meet you.”

He glanced at the dashboard and saw that they were running very late now to get to the Brampton’s. Jenn’s parents were very patient people, but they would be getting worried if he didn’t get there soon.

“Now, Kat, we have to go. We’re late”

The car was already running for the heater so he slipped into gear and eased forward slowly. As they took off, he glanced down at her.

“You’ll have to hang on,” he said. “The seatbelt won’t work on you. It’s not made for….er….commandos.”

He saw the road was clear so pulled out and steadily accelerated. Once the car was up to speed, he glanced at her again.

“We’ve got a lot to work out, Kat, but first we have to get through today. We’ll be back home tomorrow and then we can see what we should do.”

He looked back at the road, then back to her.

“I know you can do it. You have to be a doll, just for today, just for me, till we get home tomorrow. Think of it as being undercover. We don’t want anyone knowing about you, you’re too special.”

He focussed on the road as they sped towards Plymouth.

At least it wasn’t raining or snowing, so he was able to drive quickly, with a doll sitting next to him. No, not a doll.

A person.

“I know you can do it, Kat. I know you can.”

“I’m James,” he said, “James Hudson.”

Kat's brow furrowed as she listened intently. There was something about those word sounds, something familiar. She'd heard it before, this 'James', and many times. But not the way He said it. No. In a different way. In a different voice. Lots of times.

Distracted by the feeling that there should be more to the memory, unable to place it in context, Kat reached for His hand when He offered it, murmuring His name under her breath, too quiet to be heard. It was as if she were trying the word sounds out, and found them to her liking. It felt right, but it didn't sound right. "Pleased to meet you, James." she said a little louder, still using his accent. But there was something in the way she said his name....something familiar

He warned her about hanging on, but after her adventure on the floor and nearly getting stepped on, she didn't need to be told twice. She grabbed two little handfuls of His trousers, holding on tightly. As He drove, she listened to His explanations of where they were going and what He wanted her to do. Her instincts had been correct. It was an undercover mission. Though He admitted He wasn't a commando, He still seemed to know what was needed to accomplish their mission.

He must be a different sort of undercover agent, Kat thought. As long as they were successful in locating the Woman and returning Her safely, Kat was willing to work with any agent. Just as with the enemy soldier they had just encountered, James wanted her to play as if she were one of the stiff ones that shared her shelf. Kat knew now that He wasn't one of them, and He wasn't like her either. James was something different. But if pretending to be a 'doll' again, as He had told the enemy soldier she was, would help them find and retrieve the Woman, Kat would do what she had to do.

He said they were late, probably for some rendezvous with another contact, Kat thought. Perhaps that 'enemy soldier' wasn't the secret contact after all. Kat knew that passing along information could often be a very subtle thing, but she hadn't noticed how any of the interaction between James and the other soldier could have been useful. Maybe it had been in code. It was often hard to understand the subtleties of this spy business. She preferred her way better. Interrogation or double tap. Especially if you had an expendable hostile or two. Once the first example was made, the rest tended to open up rather freely.

She thought about what she would need to do soon. Be a 'doll' for Him, He said. Not just for Him, because He didn't want anyone to know about her. She'd have to pretend to be a stiff around whoever they encountered. She could do this. And His vote of confidence in her abilities to operate undercover made her feel especially good. He thought she was special. Kat smiled at that.

But she was partially distracted with the flood of memories that were coming back to her at the sound of his name. Memories of the sound words that she had been only dimly aware of hearing in her place on the shelf all those months, even years, were now flooding back to her. The miles rushed by as she was lost to the memories coming back to her now.

There was a time before......before she woke up on her shelf. She knew somehow that James was the Woman's favorite, even though he wasn't like Kat. And she knew that for as far back as she could remember, the Woman was there, and James was there. Their word sounds were coming back to her in a rush now. And she remembered.

As the large transport they traveled within pulled to a stop, she looked up at Him and asked, "James, what are our chances to find Her? Are we going to bring Her back with us?"

It was not Kat's voice.

It was not His accent.

Once again, Kat's ability to mimic perfectly what she had heard before served her.

The voice that came from her tiny mouth was Jenn's.

They were nearly at the Brampton’s. The car was on the Plymouth Highway and the Bramptons lived centrally. Kat had done well to get used to the movement of the car, though her mimicking of his accent was uncanny.

You’ll fit right in if we go back to Australia.

Her speech was now becoming better. It seemed she now had a vocabulary outside of just what he said and her cadence and pronunciation was close to what any human would sound like.

Hudson admonished himself.

Any human? She‘s alive. She is human.

He was coming to a traffic light and he let the engine brake slow the car down. He didn’t really feel like lunch and small talk now and staying over, but he liked the Bramptons and appreciated their support. No.... He loved the Bramptons. Jenn’s parents had been like his parents. Lunch….

He wanted time. He wanted to talk to Kat. To hold her. To touch her. She was his closest link to Jenn. The memories had come flooding back, the pain, the feeling of being….robbed. But with the bad memories had come the good feelings, the thought of being closer. He wasn’t sure if it was good to rekindle the memories, the feelings, to rebuild a link to something he could never have again. It had taken him months to return to some semblance of normal and now this doll, this miniature red haired, green eyed commando was opening it all up again. He wasn’t over it. He had never been over it.

Ever.

The Subaru had nearly pulled up behind the car at the lights when she spoke again.

"James, what are our chances to find Her? Are we going to bring Her back with us?"

Hudson hit the brakes hard. The car had almost stopped, but the small skidding jolt made Kat have to hang on to him to prevent her flying forwards.

What the fuck?

“Jesus!”

She sounded like Jenn.

Exactly.

For a second, Hudson’s mind flashed to visions of incubi and body snatchers and….

He looked down at Kat, her green eyes blinking, surpirised, probably wary of his erratic driving. Again.... He smiled. She was no body snatcher or monster.

The voice?

He took a deep breath.

“Sorry,” he said with a sigh and stroking her shoulders,”you just sounded like….well….exactly like….”

He couldn’t say the words.

Sounded like Jenn.

Jenn was dead, so all she could do was sound like Jenn, not be Jenn. Everytime he felt like he had his mind sorted out, Kat would bring something new to the table. He really needed to talk to her. Lunch….

Fuck.

He heard a horn blow behind him and he looked up. The lights had changed. He took off and continued towards where the Bramptons lived. He tried to act calm, but his heart was beating at double its normal rate. It used to do that for Jenn.

He shivered.

“We’re nearly there,” he said looking down at her with a tight smile and then turning into another street. “Not long to go.”

He focussed on the next few turns and then drove slowly to give himself some time to gather his thoughts. She seemed independent and strong, but loyal to him. He knew if he couched what he asked in terms of doing things for him rather than as a direct order, then she would be more inclined to follow his instructions.

He smiled again.

After all, I’m not an officer, I have to ask nicely.

“I know it’s not fun, but I need you to get back in the bag. Once we’re in and they’ve showed me to my room, we can talk then. It won’t be long. I promise.”

He looked down at her.

“Is that ok? I need you to do it to help me.”

He’d finally turned in to the street on which the Bramptons lived. This part of Plymouth was particularly beautiful, even in winter. He slowed the car down in front of an immaculately maintained white weather board house with a picture-perfect garden.

It felt good to be here now. He owed them. Lunch….

He stopped the car at the kerb as their driveway was already filled with cars. He gently picked up Kat. He leant his head down and kissed her very gently on the forehead and then looked into her eyes.

“For me, Kat. Please.”

He felt his own eyes go a little moist at the thought of her sounding like Jenn.

Not now.

Please.

Not now.

He placed Kat gently in the bag and zipped it up only halfway. He picked it up gently and then opened the car door.

“For me….” he whispered again, hoping she’d know what he wanted.

He got out of the car and Sandra Brampton was already making her way down the drive towards him.

“James, dear James,” she said with her arms outstretched. “How are you darling?”

She caught him even before he’d reached the drive and he hugged her back with his free arm.

“I’m fine Mrs. Brampton, just fine. Sorry I’m late.”

She kissed him on the cheek.

“Don’t apologise,” she said, “we were just worried for you with the drive in this weather.”

“I know.”

“You’re staying tonight. I won’t hear of anything else.”

“Yes ma’am.”

They turned to walk towards the house, his arm around her shoulder.

“Well I hope the drive wasn’t too eventful.”

Hudson pursed his lips into a smirk as they stepped on to the porch, towards the warmth of the house.

“No. Not at all….”

Kat could feel the gradual deceleration of the transport as she asked her question. During the time she'd been sitting on James' thigh, she'd learned to get a better feel for the motion of travel, and had found that her new seat provided a more stable base from which to anticipate and compensate for the forces of inertia. But she was not prepared for the sudden lurching stop caused by James' reaction to her voice. The suddenly arrested momentum sent her tumbling forward along James' lower thigh towards his knee, ass over elbows. The same make-shift poncho that had allowed her to regain her warmth and comfort was now proving to be a hindrance that prevented her getting an easy handhold to stop her tumble.

Her wild auburn hair tussled and flailing, she managed the presence of mind to spread her body out as much as she could. Her legs went wide and at last found a hold just before she pitched off the front edge of the seat. One of her knees hooked over James' kneecap and slowed her enough to manage a grip on the upholstery seam at the front edge of the seat cushion. Her little heart pounded with the fright her near accident had raised in her, and her bosom heaved with each panting breath. She hauled herself back up onto the seat to stand between his legs, cursing. "Bloody hell, James!!!"

She fixed him with a glare of anger, about to read him the riot act for the second time that morning about his reckless driving when she saw the look of pain and grief reflected in his eyes. Once again, his feelings echoed in her, and all intention of rebuke fled in that instant. Her tiny face took on a similar look of sorrow and suddenly she felt like it was difficult to draw her breath. Her chest felt tight with grief and she didn't know why. When she could finally take that deep breath, it came as more of a choked sob.

Her anger forgotten, she moved closer up between his legs, her little hands caressing lightly on each thigh as a gesture of comfort. Little pats of her hands offered sympathy and apology for whatever she'd done to hurt him. That she'd done something seemed clear to her, and explained his reaction. She never meant to hurt her partner or cause him upset. And she was growing more concerned that his emotional instability might endanger their mission. She would have to pay closer attention to his reactions in the future to try to ascertain what triggered these mood swings. Maybe then she could head off the problem before it hit.

He caressed her shoulders, letting her know it was alright. Her voice had startled him, reminded him of Her. But that was the point. How else was Kat to let him know who she was referring to? She did not know the Woman's name, only that she belonged to Her. And she realized that he had not answered her question. Perhaps that part of the mission was classified.

Just then some kind of alarm sounded from behind the transport, and took James' attention from her. He set the transport in motion as she regained her seat on his thigh, bracing herself this time in case another unexpected maneuver was necessary. Perhaps the alarm behind them signaled some sort of attack, and James was only taking evasive maneuvers to avoid being hit. She forgave him for causing the undignified tumble, and settled in for the remainder of the ride.

James asked her to go undercover again, pretending to be a stiff once more. He wanted her to get back inside the bag. Kat eyed the travel bag with reluctance. Now that he knew about her, now that the Kat was 'out of the bag' so to speak, she really didn't want to get back in. But it was for him. And when he gently lifted her, and placed a kiss on her forehead, she couldn't resist. A pink blush colored her cheeks. Kissing one's mission partner wasn't exactly SOP for a mercenary commando. But it did appeal to the female inside the uniform. She nodded her consent and slipped into the bag from James' hand, settling down among his uniform shirts. It would only be for a little while, and it was for Him.

She felt the movement as he lifted the bag and left the transport. Moments later, she heard a voice that reminded her of the Woman. Kat stretched up to peek out. She saw an unidentified female perp embracing her partner. Was this the contact who could lead them to Her? Kat ducked back inside the bag just as the woman took it from James. "Relax James, make yourself right at home. I'll put this in the guest room for you. Would you like something to drink? Lunch will be ready soon."

Kat felt her hiding place being carried through the building they had entered, and finally placed on the floor in a darkened room. A moment later she heard the door close, and she cautiously peered out of the opening in the bag. The room was empty. Time for some tactical recon.

She climbed out and pressed her back against the bag's side, taking a quick look around. It seemed safe enough so she moved to the wall, staying close for cover. There was one window, high up on the wall, possibly large enough for them to escape through if it became necessary. Besides the window, there was a door that was closed. She listened closely next to it. Perhaps She was being held in this building somewhere. The woman who sounded a little like Her might be an ally or an enemy. James seemed to trust her, but it paid to be safe. Kat would reserve judgment until she knew more. It was possible that these people had abducted the Woman, and perhaps the mission was to make a drop of ransom money. These kinds of things could go smoothly or could go to hell pretty quickly, she knew. Her hand fell to the butt of her Desert Eagle pistol out of reflex. It's solid feel calmed her. If things went bad, she was ready to handle the wetwork.

There was no sound from behind the door, so Kat thought that if the Woman was being held there, she must have been drugged or unconscious. Kat looked for a way to open the door, but the door knob was far out of her reach. There was nothing close by that she could climb to get up there, and try as she might, she couldn't get the door open any other way.

Suddenly there was a sound from the direction of the door the other woman had left through. Someone was coming! Kat cast a desperate glance around for cover, and spotted the space under the bed. Five or six quick strides would get her there, but the door was opening even now! She sprinted and dove for the cover.

"Let's hide in here! C'mon!" an excited voice called. Kat rolled further under the bed, coming to her hands and knees and watching the moving feet of the two unknown females invading the room. "Max will never find us in here!"

So, Kat surmised, it seems that this Max person was one to look out for. It's possible he was the one who held the Woman hostage. And now he threatened these two girls. Kat wondered if she should risk her cover to offer them aid. They could possibly be useful allies against this Max person. But she should coordinate with James on any decision that could compromise their mission. She decided to stay hidden for the moment.

But the next thing she knew, one of the intruders dropped prone beside the bed and began to shimmy under! Kat backed away towards the other side, unsure of what to do. She felt the hanging curtain of the bedspread at her back and it gave her an idea. She grabbed fistfuls of the cloth and began to climb. By the time the female had scurried under the bed, Kat had managed to climb up between the bedspread and the mattress, bracing her heels on the slight edge of the metal bed frame.

From her hiding place, she heard the other intruder approach, and could see the toes of her feet when she looked down. The intruder had paused just in front of Kat's place of concealment. "Hey! What is this lump, Gretal?"

Kat felt a pit of dread blossom in her belly, realizing her cover was about to be blown. Her hiding place had been discovered! Huge fingers curled under the bed spread and began to lift it up. Just as she was about to be uncovered, she heard the door to the room open. Kat held her breath, silently reaching for her combat knife with her spare hand.