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This
story takes place on Christmas Eve after “The Gumshoes”. Enjoy! ‘Twas
the night before Christmas in Sleepyside at Trixie and Honey’s house. Thanks to
that Decon placed under the kitchen sink, not a creature was stirring, not
even a mouse. The stockings were hung over the radiator with care (although
Brian had warned during his visit earlier that it was a fire hazard to leave
them there). The two shamuses were nestled, all snug in their beds, while
visions of investigations danced in their heads. In the messier of
the two bedrooms, Trixie lay, fast asleep. A soft banging against her bedroom
window roused her from a long winter’s nap. “Who’s there?” she
gasped, as she raised upright in her bed. The white lights
from the Christmas tree in the living room shone into her room, allowing her
to glance around for any intruders. She breathed a sigh of relief when she
saw that she was alone. Just as she was preparing to lay back down, her
window rattled again, causing Trixie to jump. She looked up just in time to
see a busted snowball slide down the pane of glass. Curiosity gnawing away at
her, she sprang from her bed to see who was causing the clatter. With a shiver, she
vacated the warm confines of her downy comforter and flew to the window like
a flash. She tossed back the curtains
and peered out the glass just as another snowball splattered against it. A
full moon shone on the newly-fallen snow, allowing her to see the lawn
surrounding the apartment complex clearly. There, outside the
window of her ground-floor apartment, she spied a man clad in a red suit.
White fur trimmed his festive ensemble, and although his beard was the color
of snow, Trixie spied a thatch of red hair peeking out from under his hat.
Though Santa’s form usually was described as chubby and plump, this visitor’s physique was more
athletic; supple even. Trixie opened the window and peered down at
the ground below. “Santa Claus?” she asked with a yawn. “Ho, ho, ho! Merry
Christmas,” the man greeted merrily, a familiar lopsided grin on his face. “Jim, why are you dressed as Santa Claus?” The visitor cleared his
throat, and then corrected, “I’m not Jim. The name’s Kris. Kris Kringle.” “Kris Kringle?” Trixie repeated
incredulously. “Where’s your sleigh?” “I traded it in for
a GMC Suburban. I needed more horsepower.” “Sorry, dude, but
the interstate’s that way,” Trixie replied. She reached up to close her
window. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to bed.” “C’mon, Trix! Unlock
your door so I can come inside. It’s cold out here.” “Sorry, but I can’t
do that.” She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders apologetically. “My
fiancé has a jealous streak the size of the North Pole. He wouldn’t approve
of me inviting strange men in my house, so you’ll just have to stay out
there, even if you are Santa
Claus.” Jim glared up at her
with a frown. “Trixie, my toes are getting numb.” “But, Santa, I
thought you lived in the North Pole,” Trixie commented, an angelic smile on
her face. “Surely you’re used to the bitter cold.” “Are you going to let me in or not?” He
sighed loudly to express his impatience. “I don’t have any
milk and cookies laid out for you,” she informed him sleepily, “so you may as
well come back tomorrow.” “I brought your
Christmas present.” Jim held up a small box wrapped in green foil paper as
proof. “Fine,” she stated
grumpily. “Shimmy down the chimney and leave it under the tree. I’ll get it
in the morning.” “Aw, c’mon, Shamus.
Open the door for me,” he pleaded. He shook the box playfully, and then added
in a sing-song voice, “I’ll make it worth your while.” “We agreed to exchange
gifts on the twenty-fifth, so I’m waiting until it’s officially Christmas,” Trixie stated stubbornly. “It is officially Christmas.” Trixie glanced back
at the clock on her nightstand and saw that it was “But in the morning,
I won’t be dressed as Santa,” he pointed out, his tone hopeful. “Why are you dressed as Santa?” Trixie
asked again. Her sandy brow furrowed quizzically. “You haven’t told me yet,
and it’s going to drive me crazy wondering if you’re moonlighting as ol’
Saint Nick at Crimper’s Department Store.” Jim crossed his arms
in front of his chest and smiled like the cat that ate the canary. “Let me in
and I’ll tell you.” “Never mind then,”
she said, pouting. “I’ll figure it out on my own.” Jim shook his head.
“Nope, this is one mystery you’ll never solve. If you don’t let me in, I’ll never tell you.” “Hey, you’re not playing fair,” Trixie retorted with a frown. “Sorry, but that’s
how it’s gotta be,” Jim stated firmly. “It’s your choice.” “I’ve been trained
to never negotiate with terrorists,” she warned with a scowl. “I’m not a
terrorist; I’m Santa Claus.” Jim smiled congenially, holding out his arms in
a benevolent manner. “Jiiiiim,” Trixie moaned,
running her fingers through her unruly curls. “I’m exhausted. Honey and I
have been run ragged doing surveillance for the case we’re working on, and we
were at your mom and dad’s until after eleven. I just fell asleep. Can’t you
just tell me really quick why you’re dressed up in that stupid costume, and
then come back in the morning?” “Only if you let me in.” “Well, forget it
then.” Trixie lifted her chin haughtily. “I don’t need to know. It’s
obviously none of my business.” “Like that’s ever
stopped you from being curious before,” Jim snorted. Trixie placed her
hands on her hips and stomped her foot in frustration. “You tell me why
you’re dressed up as Santa Claus right this minute, Jim Frayne, or I’ll…
I’ll… I’ll...!” “You’ll what?” Jim
challenged, an impish gleam in his emerald eyes. “I don’t know what
I’ll do,” she sputtered indignantly, “but it’ll be really bad, and you’ll be
really, really sorry!” “All you have to do
is unlock your front door.” “Fine!” Trixie
exclaimed with a scowl. “I’ll let you in, but if you don’t fess up, I’m
getting my gun.” Jim chuckled in
amusement. “Do you always threaten Santa Claus?” “Only when he wakes
me up at He grinned broadly.
“That’s exactly what I was counting on,” he answered. “Eh, bite me,”
Trixie retorted. She didn’t even attempt to stifle her yawn. “I love you, too, my
happy widdle snow pwincess,” Jim cooed, making an exaggerated lovey-dovey
face. Though she tried to
appear gruff, a hint of a smile etched at the corners of her lips. “Get
inside, you bum,” she muttered. “I’d better get you warmed up before you lose
your digits to frostbite.” “Sounds good to me,”
Jim drawled with a waggle of his ginger brows. “I meant with a
blanket or something,” Trixie corrected with a giggle. “And I’m talking about
the ten main digits on your hands and feet. Get your mind out of the gutter,
Santa.” “Hey, you’re the one
making the suggestive comments,” he muttered as he walked away from the
window. “For shame, teasing ol’ St. Nick like that.” With a shiver,
Trixie closed the window and slipped her cold feet into her warm, powder-blue
slippers. She quietly padded out into the hallway, making sure to tiptoe past
Honey’s bedroom. The door to her friend’s room was open a bit, so Trixie
carefully pulled it shut, hoping the soft click wouldn’t cause Honey to
awaken. Upon hearing a single faint knock at the front door, she scurried to let
Jim inside. The sight of her
handsome redhead never failed to make Trixie’s heart skip a beat, and this
was no exception. She’d never considered Santa suits sexy, but Jim certainly
forced her to rethink that opinion. He stepped through the
doorway, a merry twinkle in his green eyes. His broad shoulders and
well-defined chest filled out the red velour jacket quite nicely. Santa’s
usual “bowl full of jelly” had been transformed into a solid washboard. “Well, this explains
why Mommy kissed Santa Claus,” she teased as she adjusted his furry collar.
“I had no idea that Kris Kringle was such a sexy, supple woodsman.” “If you’re sucking
up so I’ll bring you extra presents, then it’s working,” Jim commented. He
stepped closer to her and wrapped his strong arms around her waist. “Merry
Christmas, Shamus.” “Merry Christmas,
Santa,” she murmured, inhaling his woodsy scent. She rubbed her cheek against
the soft material of his red suit, thinking that being in her man’s arms was
much more preferable to being alone in her warm, cozy bed. However, she wasn’t
about to let him know that. Trixie pulled away from
him, and with a scowl, punched his arm. “Jerk.” “Ow! What was that for?” “For getting me out of
bed.” “I guess I’ll just have
to tuck you back in,” he told her huskily. He cupped her cheek with one of
his freckled hands and drew her lips to his. He placed a light, tender kiss
on her mouth as his thumb caressed the nape of her neck. “Wait a minute,” she
instructed. With a giggle, she pulled down his fake beard. That accomplished,
she moved in closer for a kiss, and then sighed with contentment. “Mmmm...
Much better.” “Much better,
indeed,” he agreed, giving her an Eskimo kiss. “Your nose is cold,”
Trixie giggled with an exaggerated shiver. “That’s because I’ve
been standing outside in the cold waiting for you to have mercy on me.” She teasingly
whacked him on the back of the head. “And you’d still be standing out there if I wasn’t so stinkin’ curious.
Which reminds me… Don’t you have some ‘splainin’ to do?” Jim shrugged his
shoulders, feigning ignorance. “I have no idea what you mean.” “Why… are… you…
wearing… a… Santa… suit?” she questioned impatiently, emphasizing each word
with a poke against his chest. “You don’t waste any
time, do you?” Jim asked, laughing at her impatience. Trixie crossed her arms
in front of her and attempted to assume a serious expression. “Is there
anything I need to be aware of before we get married? Because if you make a
habit of sneaking out of the house on Christmas Eve, I’m not going to buy the
‘I’m Batman’ bit.” Jim motioned her closer,
and then whispered in her ear, “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill
you.” Trixie pulled away
huffily. “Not if I kill you first. Where’s my gun…” He laughed as he gently
grasped her wrist and pulled her into his embrace. “All right, Miss Nonsense;
I’ll tell you the truth. I’ve been playing Santa at Ten Acres, and I thought
it would be fun to bring over your Christmas present while I was dressed up. Are
you satisfied?” “Is that it?” Trixie
scowled in disappointment. “After getting me out of my cozy bed at dark
o’clock, you’d better give me more details than that, mister.” “Some of the teachers
overheard the little kids talking at school,” Jim explained with a laugh.
“They were going to sneak out of their dorms and watch for Santa. The older
ones teased them, so the staff and I thought it would be fun if I dressed up
like Santa and surprised them.” Trixie’s countenance
softened as she listened to his tale. “Oh, that’s so sweet!” she said, giving
him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re the bestest principal in the whole wide
world.” “Oh, I don’t know about
that,” he muttered, an embarrassed smile on his face. “Don’t even try and
argue,” she scolded teasingly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were planning
this? I could’ve helped you.” Jim raised a ginger brow
in skepticism. “Helped me how? Shoved me down the chimney?” She laughed as she
jokingly punched him in the gut. “No, silly! I could’ve dressed up like an
elf and helped you carry the packages.” Greatly exaggerating his
actions, Jim drew an imaginary line from the top of her head to his chest.
“Well, you are the right height to
be an elf…” He laughed as Trixie
stuck her tongue out at him. “I’m just kidding, Shamus. Next Christmas, you
can come along as Mrs. Claus.” “So why’d you keep this
such a big secret?” “I wasn’t sure if I’d be
able to find a suit on Christmas Eve, so I didn’t say anything,” Jim told
her. “After you left Mom and Dad’s party, I checked with my answering
service. Dessie had left me a message, saying she’d found one. She left it in
my office so it would be there when I came to the school.” “Did you accomplish your
mission?” “I sure did,” he answered
with a contented smile. “You should’ve seen the kids’ faces when I snuck into
the foyer with that sack of gifts. Their eyes were as big as saucers.” “Oh, Jim,” Trixie
murmured. Unshed tears glistened in her blue eyes as she thought of “Santa”
undercover operation. “I love you so much. It’s so wonderful how you do
special things for the kids at your school. They’re lucky to have you.” “And I’m lucky to have
you,” he replied, kissing her softly. “I just hope you remember how wonderful
I am when I have to spend tomorrow morning at the school with them. I want to
be there when the kids open their gifts.” Trixie shook her head, a
proud smile on her face. “I don’t mind. In fact, I’d like to come with you,
if you don’t care.” “I’d like that,” he
answered. “The kids always enjoy seeing you.” She placed a quick kiss
on the tip of Jim’s nose. “Good, because they’re going to be seeing a lot
more of me after we’re married.” “I’ll hold you to that.” Trixie’s smile grew
mischievous. She twirled a sandy curl around her index finger, and then
inquired, “Speaking of presents… Did Santa bring me one?” “I thought you wanted to
wait until tomorrow,” Jim pointed out. “A girl’s entitled to
change her mind.” Jim shook his head, his
mouth forming a smirk. “Sorry, you missed your chance.” Trixie placed her hands on her hips and
glared at him. “Where’s my present?” She began patting his shirt, almost like
a policeman frisking a perpetrator. “Santa might have brought a little something for you.” He laughed
as he pushed away her hands. “It’d better not be
something corny like mistletoe,” she threatened, lightly slugging his arm for
emphasis. “Because if you got me out of bed just to kiss me, then you’re dead
meat.” Jim gently traced
her jaw line with one strong index finger, slowly caressing the path to her
lips. “Would you rather me get you into
bed to kiss you?” he asked in a husky voice. “Well, I guess that
wouldn’t be so bad,” Trixie whispered. It surprised her how stimulated she
was by his innocent caresses. She prayed it wasn’t the Santa suit because
that would just be weird. Jim walked over to
the couch and sat down on the end nearest the Christmas tree. “Why don’t you
sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what you want for Christmas?” he suggested
with a mischievous waggle of his eyebrows. Giggling like a
little girl, Trixie happily complied with his request and climbed onto his
lap, snuggling close to his muscular chest. “Why, Mr. Claus, don’t you have
deliveries to make?” “Ol’ Saint Nick is
always willing to take time out of his busy schedule for a pretty girl like
you,” Jim teased, a wicked gleam in his green eyes. “Have you been naughty or
nice this year?” Trixie pursed her
lips as she scratched her chin thoughtfully. “I guess that depends on whom
you ask.” “And what if I ask
your fiancé?” Trixie batted her
long, sandy lashes at Jim as she played with the top button of his red velour
jacket. “I think he’d say I was very
nice,” she purred. Pretending to find a more comfortable position on Jim’s
lap, she wiggled her bottom slightly, and then added, “Although I can’t wait
until after we’re married so I can be veeery naughty.” His breathing became
shallow, and his eyes glazed over slightly as he studied her face, which was
illuminated by the Christmas tree lights. “Golly gee, Santa,”
Trixie whispered in a sultry voice, “is that a candy cane in your pocket, or
are you just glad to see me?” “If you keep this
up, you’re going to get a lump of coal in your stocking,” Jim rebuked, in a
mock stern tone. “Don’t you like it?” “Yes,” he rasped as
he slipped his hand up the back of her pajama top and rubbed her bare back.
“But we agreed to wait until after our wedding, and you’re making it very
difficult.” “Am I making it hard on you?” she asked him in a
breathy voice. “Very. At the rate
we’re going now, I’m going to die before our wedding night.” “Take it from
someone with a vast history of ‘dying’,” Trixie said with a giggle, “waiting
is never as bad as you think.” “I’ll try to
remember that during my next cold shower,” he replied dryly. Trixie assumed a
contrite expression. “And I’ll try to behave,” she promised. “Now, why don’t you tell ol’ Kris Kringle what you’d like for
Christmas this year,” Jim suggested. “Well, what I really want is a little over six feet
tall, has red hair, green eyes, a washboard stomach, huge pecs, and a cute
butt.” “Hmmm…” “Santa”
murmured thoughtfully as he stroked his chin. “That’s a tall order, little
girl. With all the toys I had to pack this year, I don’t think that would fit
in my sleigh. You may have to settle for something else.” “Like what?” Grinning broadly,
Jim pulled a small gift out of the pocket of his jacket and handed it to her.
“Like this. Merry Christmas, Shamus.” With a shriek of
delight, Trixie snatched the foil-wrapped box out of his hands. “Oh, how
pretty,” she murmured, admiring the festive package. “There’s something
even prettier in the box,” he
commented with a wink. “What is it?” Jim chuckled as he
gave her a fond look. “Open it up and see.” Trixie held the package
up to her ear and rattled it. “Hmmm… It doesn’t make any noise, so it must
not be a necklace. Maybe it’s earrings.” “Why don’t you—” “Shhh!” she
interrupted. She placed the box at eyelevel to help her estimate the
dimensions. “It’s too small to be a bracelet.” “You know, it might
help if you opened it,” Jim suggested sardonically. “You’re such a
spoilsport,” Trixie muttered. She plucked the bow from the top, and then
ripped the wrapping off to reveal a black velvet jeweler’s box. Holding her
breath, she lifted the lid to reveal a beautiful three-stone diamond ring. “When I saw this at
Cartier, I thought it would make a perfect Christmas gift for you,” Jim told
her, his tone husky. He nervously studied her face for a reaction. “I know
you aren’t much of a jewelry person, but I hoped you see the symbolism in
this.” “Oh, Jim,” she
whispered as she admired her gift. The tree lights shone upon the ring,
accentuating the diamonds’ clarity. In their platinum setting, the stones
shimmered with a stunning brilliance, each facet perfect in quality. Still unable to discern her reaction, he
asked tremulously, “Do you like it?” “I love it,” she
gasped. “It’s beautiful.” “It’s a past,
present, and future ring.” He waited until Trixie’s gaze met his own before
continuing. “I thought this ring was a perfect symbol of how I feel about
you.” Jim took the ring
out of the jeweler’s box that Trixie was holding. Gently grasping her right
hand, he slipped the ring onto her finger. He lightly tapped one of the
diamonds in the setting. “Even before we met, you were a part of me. The
things I endured in my past prepared me to be a man worthy of your love. Fate
led me to Sleepyside, and love kept me here. “You’re the greatest
blessing in my present,” he continued, pointing to the center stone. “I love
you with all my heart. Your belief in me has driven me to succeed, and
without your support, I’d be nothing. Every minute I have with you is a gift,
and there’s no place I’d rather be than here with you.” After clearing a lump
from his throat, he pointed to the final diamond. “I’d never been truly
excited about the future until the day you agreed to be my wife. Now, every
day’s a new adventure, and I can’t wait until we’re married. I plan on
treating each day as if it’s our last, treasuring every single moment that
we’re given. My future’s never looked brighter, now that you’ve promised to
spend it with me.” Tears glistened in
Trixie’s eyes as she cupped Jim’s strong jaw in the palm of her hand. “Oh,
Jim,” she murmured as she turned to throw her arms around him. “I feel the
exact same way about you.” Wordlessly, their
lips met. At first the kiss was tender, but soon it deepened, allowing their
tongues to tangle as passion consumed them. Minutes passed as they savored
the experience. Breathless, the tempo slowed as they leisurely stroked one
another’s lips, unwilling to end the kiss. When they pulled
apart, a single tear trickled down Trixie’s cheek. Jim looked up at her
tenderly as he wiped the moisture away with the back of his hand. “What’s
wrong?” he whispered. “Nothing,” she told
him, biting back her tears. “It’s just that I love you so much.” “I love you, too,
Shamus,” he murmured, gently kissing her lips. “I didn’t know that
I could be this happy.” “Me either, baby,”
Jim agreed. Trixie sighed in
contentment as she ran her fingers through his dark red hair. “I thank God
every day that you came looking for your uncle.” “And I thank Him
that you have an overwhelming sense of curiosity,” he added with a grin as he
affectionately tweaked her pert nose. “I’m also pretty
thankful that you didn’t shoot me,” Trixie added with a giggle. “Although
you’re pretty cute when you threaten people.” “I guess I’m glad I
didn’t shoot you, too,” Jim agreed teasingly. Though his tone was joking, it
was clear from the look in his eyes that he couldn’t bear the thought of
hurting the woman he loved. “Of course, you do realize that I’m mad at you,” she
retorted with an aggravated huff. Jim’s forehead creased
as he looked at her in surprise. “Just a few minutes ago, you were saying how
much you love me and how thankful you are for me.” “Well, I’m mad at
you now,” Trixie informed him with a toss of her curls. “What for?” “You’re just too
perfect, Jim Frayne,” she said, a trace of a smile letting him know she
wasn’t really angry. “You bought me a beautiful, romantic gift for Christmas,
and I got you something dumb.” “Now, Trixie, you
know it’s the thought that counts.” He paused for a moment, and then hesitantly
questioned, “What did you get me?” “A GPS unit,” she told him with a sheepish
grin. “I thought a global positioning system would be the perfect gift for my
dreamy woodsman.” “Cool!” Jim
exclaimed. “Those things are awesome.” “I hoped you’d like
it,” Trixie said, leaning back against his chest. “Now you’ll never get
lost.” Jim snorted to show
his shock. “The Frayne men have internal compasses,” he argued. “I never get lost.” “Not according to
Brian,” she commented with a saucy grin. “Tattletale,” he
muttered. “For the record, that was the only time I’ve ever been lost, and
Brian promised me that information would only be given on a ‘need to know’
basis.” “Well, I needed to know, and Brian needed to live,” Trixie stated
matter-of-factly. “You little imp,”
Jim said, smirking. “I should’ve known that I wouldn’t be able to keep that
from you.” “Of course, because
I’m your schoolgirl shamus,” she informed him with a flutter of her
eyelashes. He gave her one of his
famous fond glances. “You certainly are,” he murmured. He drew her close to
his chest, stroking her curls as she nestled her head in the crook of his
neck. They cuddled in companionable silence, enjoying the twinkling Christmas
lights as well as one another’s embrace. After several
minutes, Jim heard Trixie’s breathing become steady. “Trix?” he asked
quietly. “Are you asleep?” Her only reply was a
soft snore. Jim cradled her in
his arms, admiring her sleeping form. He wondered at how her long lashes cast
a shadow on her high cheekbones. Her soft, full lips were parted slightly,
just begging to be thoroughly kissed. Even though she wasn’t wearing makeup,
the apples of her cheeks were pink.
Over the sleeve of his Santa suit, her sandy curls were draped,
looking even more unruly than usual. He lovingly brushed back
the few straggling ringlets framing her heart-shaped face. He lowered his
lips and kissed her forehead, savoring the coconut scent of her hair and the
soft feel of her skin. Still holding her in his arms, he stood to his feet
and carried her out of the living room. As he neared his
sister’s bedroom, the door opened and a half-asleep Honey staggered out into
the hallway. Upon sight of the red-suited visitor, she leaned against the
doorframe, her hazel eyes widened in surprise. “Santa?” she mumbled,
rubbing her bleary eyes just in case she was hallucinating. “Merry Christmas,
Honey,” Jim replied with a grin. “Why are you carrying
Trixie through the house, Santa Claus?” “She fell asleep in the
living room,” he explained. “I’m going to tuck her into bed.” “That’s nice,” Honey
commented, placing a well-manicured hand over her mouth to cover her yawn. “Go back to bed, Honey,”
“Santa” ordered with a nod of his head. “Okay,” she murmured
sleepily as she turned to go back into her room. With a shake of her head,
she muttered under her breath, “I’m going to have to ask Celia what was in
that eggnog.” Jim walked into Trixie’s
bedroom and laid her onto the bed, taking great care not to wake her from her
slumber. He pulled the comforter up around her chin, tucking her in quite
cozy-like. An affectionate smile on his face, he watched her curl up into a
comfortable position. How he longed for the night when he could curl up with
her! The moonlight streamed in
through the window, illuminating Trixie’s face with its rays. The beams shone
on her head, and it looked as if a halo rested upon her unruly golden
ringlets. Though she was sound asleep, she appeared to be smiling in a
contented manner. He spent several minutes
watching her, just appreciating her beauty. Overwhelmed by a fierce love, his
green eyes grew misty as he gazed at her lovely, sleeping form. Brushing away
a sentimental tear, Jim turned his eyes heavenward and whispered a husky,
“Thank you.” After placing a tender kiss on her forehead,
he brushed away an errant curl. Then, with a wink of his eye and a twist of
his head, he stood to his feet and walked over to the door. With a tip of his fur-trimmed hat, Jim
whispered ‘ere he walked out of sight, “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a
good night.”
First of all, a
huge thank you to my dear friend Steph H, who edited this for me. This was a
spur of the moment story, and she was there in a pinch to fix all my boo-boos.
Steph, I love you! Merry Christmas! The title, as
well as a few of the lines, were taken from the famous poem, “The Night
Before Christmas”, by Clement Clarke Moore. The idea for this
story was hatched by watching the Christmas special, “Santa Claus is Coming
to Town” where we learn that Old Saint Nick started out as a handsome,
supple, redheaded woodsman. I decided that I could see Jim, dressed up in
full Kris Kringle regalia, playing Santa to the kids at his school. And of
course, afterwards he’d have to pay his favorite schoolgirl shamus a visit… Decon is a
popular product used for killing mice. “I’m Batman” is a
popular line from the movie “Batman”. As if you didn’t know that. Dessie is Jim’s
secretary at Ten Acres Academy, as we learned in “The Gumshoes”. Cartier is a
famous jeweler, and I think I would faint dead away if I ever received
something from there. Especially a past, present, and future eternity ring.
*G* Uh, gee, Jim got
a GPS unit for Christmas. I have NO idea what inspired me to write THAT into
my plot. J Actually, if Jim ever
decided to give up his school, I can see him becoming a surveyor. I know he’d
ace tree identification class. The line about
“not according to Brian” refers to Jim getting lost in “The Gumshoes”. And no, Celia
didn’t spike the eggnog. Finally, Merry
Christmas everyone! I hope you have a blessed holiday season.
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