A Matter Of Trust
Missing scene for True Crime.
Betaed by Annie and Xasphie.
I'm not sure if it's a Sentinel-Guide-thing or simply the fact that we've become friends, but there's something between us that makes me trust Jim unconditionally.
It must be that way, because I don't start up flailing and kicking when he wakes me in that charming way, a hand over my mouth. But hey, it must be an important mission for which Jim needs major league back-up: Me. A dangerous mission, too, because he's got his gun on him. And black boxers. Nothing else.
This is just too bizarre, and I wonder if I'm still dreaming.
(If that's the case, I do so *not* want to know what a Freudian would have to say about it!).
Meanwhile, Jim yanks the front door open to reveal Wendy Hawthorne and her camera man, both equally startled. She recovers first, and starts fishing for material, while her companion just keeps on filming, and I'm suddenly very aware we'll both be on that tape - in underwear.
Talk about feeling *a little* self-conscious...
Jim is angry enough to shove the gun into my hands, in order to prevent some blood-shed, as he puts it. He cannot be serious - can he??
Finally, he's managed to slam the door almost into their faces, turning around with a shake of his head. "That woman is really too much."
We look at each other, unable *not* to laugh at the sight. Probably it would have been wiser just to just not have opened the door, but of course, the damage is done now.
"You could say that. What are we gonna do about it?"
Jim shrugs. "I don't think she's going to use it," he says matter-of-factly.
"Well, let's *hope* she's not. Whoa, what did just happen?"
"I'd prefer to pretend it didn't." He looks at me intently then. "Let's go back to bed and -- what?"
I'm trying hard, but can't hold back the laughter. "Now, that's exactly what she's going to think, right?"
"Well, whatever. About tomorrow... you sure you still want to do it?"
Not *too* sure about it, but there's a chance we'll capture a cold-blooded bank robber, so there's not much of a choice. "Yeah."
"I know I can trust you. You'll be okay." Jim seems to realize just now that he's still holding the gun in his hand. "And by the way, thanks for saving me."
"No problem, man. You weren't so bad yourself, defending the territory - in your--"
"Don't say it, Chief, or I swear I'll take it all back. Come on. Get a little more shut-eye - you'll need it tomorrow. Today," he tries to keep his face stern, not entirely succeeding.
"Yeah, I get you."
So, that was one of the less dramatic, but surely unexpected incidents at our home - I like the sound of that. Our home. Whatever the reason everything turned out this way, I'm certainly glad to be here, doing my part.
Once more - mission accomplished.