The Wild, Wild West
The Night of the Hard Truth
by the lurker

Arte watched Jim pace up and back through the main car of the train. He had been pacing ever since the telegraph had dispatched a message from Colonel Richmond.

The tall man's voice was soft, calm, Jim...hey, take it easy. You're wearing a hole in the bottom of the train.

West didn't miss a step as he answered, I'm going to fight this all the way. He looked into the wary brown eyes across the room, I don't believe for a minute that Grant would want this. I know he doesn't. He couldn't...

His voice died away. He looked at his partner for confirmation, but the ex-actor was silent. Jim's eyes flashed agitation.

Why are you being so calm about this?

Arte tried to keep his voice even, It's not like we have a choice, Jim. It's obviously what Richmond thinks is best for the Service.

West stared unbelievingly at the man he thought he knew better than any other; and he felt betrayal.

What's best for the Service? Have you lost your mind?



The blue eyes flickered anger, and then Jim's timbre grew dangerously soft, Jim stepped away and looked at his partner, Anything that splits us up is not good for the Secret Service.

Gordon remained unruffled, No one ever said we'd be together forever.

Jim was filled with rising anger, And you sound extremely broken up about it.

Arte walked over to Jim, gently laying a hand on his shoulder, I'm just as upset as you are--

--Funny, you don't sound that upset. And come to think of it, you didn't seem all that surprised by it either. As a matter of fact, Artemus, you took it pretty damned well.

Arte looked deeply into his best friend's eyes.

His voice was as soft as velvet, Change is not always a bad idea, James.

Jim looked as though Arte had slapped him, hard.

What the hell are you saying to me? That you want to be split up?

Hold on a minute there, James--

--Save it.

West stormed for the nearest door, but Arte grabbed him by the arm. In his anger, Jim recoiled back, as if by reflex he might strike his partner. Artemus held up his hand, and West froze, realizing what he was poised to do. There was an immediate regret in the blue eyes as they met the shaken brown ones. Slowly, Gordon let go of his hold on Jim, and softly spoke to him.

Are you really going to stand there and pretend that you think I don't--that I have no--damn....
Arte couldn't form the words. He swallowed hard and tried again, You know how I feel about you.

Then how the hell can you just go along with this? I don't want a new partner. I don't want change. I like things the way they are.

West started toward the telegraph key with a vengeance, and Arte felt a rush of panic.

What are you doing?

Telling Richmond what he can do with it. I'm going to resign.

Jim, you can't.

The hell you say.

Jim violently opened the telegraph key and sat down, preparing to send an angry response to Washington. He froze when the large hand came to rest on his, stopping him. West looked up into Arte's face, and understanding took hold. He could see it in the sadness of his eyes; the soft brown eyes, which suddenly had a fear in them. A fear of discovery.

West's voice was barely a whisper, Oh my God....you requested the transfer.

Arte slammed his eyes shut against the pain he saw in the blue ones. West sat, dumbfounded by the revelation for several minutes. Then slowly, he stood, brushed past the stoic figure of his partner and walked out of the room.

Arte called to him,

But he heard the sound of West's bedroom door slam shut.

Arte ran a hand through his thick hair, sighing, That went well....

*******

Several hours passed, and Gordon had taken up his partner's quest to wear a whole in the floor of the train. He couldn't think of what he was going to say to Jim, the person he felt closest to in the world. He was at a loss. But he knew the cold, hard truth: Mrs. Gordon's son found himself suddenly devoid of courage. He shook his head at himself, and walked into the passageway of the sleeper car, coming to a stop in front of Jim's door.

He swallowed hard, trying to clear the lump he felt in his throat. Finally, he knocked. There was no answer. He knocked louder, but was greeted with only silence. He closed his eyes in despair, and slowly his head fell forward until his forehead hit the smooth wood of the door. He let out a long sigh.

Jim....come on..... I know you're in there. James...open the door.

And still there was not a sound.

If you don't open the door, I'm coming in anyway. He reached for the knob, Okay, I'm opening the door...

The knob didn't turn, the door was locked.

Arte pulled a smile onto his face, and tried his best to hide the sound of hurt that pricked his heart, James my boy, it's becoming very difficult for me not to take this personally....

It had the desired effect. The door suddenly flew open, revealing a very angry Jim West staring at him.

You're taking this personally? That's really rich, Artemus.

Arte nodded, a satisfied grin on his face, I knew you wouldn't be able to let that one go. You're going to miss me when I'm gone....

And now you've launched into your vaudeville act.

West stared through Arte as if he didn't know him. The large brown eyes tried to fight off the tears threatening to fall.

You're getting a new partner, Jim. I'm not.

West stormed into the main car, Arte hot on his heels.

You're not talking sense, Arte. Unless you're leaving the Service, you have to have-- Their eyes locked, and Jim felt his stomach leap into his throat,

Gordon swallowed hard, trying to reign in his careening emotions. Jim was frozen in some sentiment between shock and fright, barely able to breathe. They stood there for several long moments in tense silence. Finally, Artemus walked over to one of the windows and stared out.

Arte's voice was so soft, Jim had to strain to hear it, I know, I should have told you, Jim. I just didn't know how.

West stared at his partner's back, noticing the tension in his stance. He said nothing, and waited for Arte to continue.

Gordon let out a long sigh of air, This is very difficult

Jim walked over to Arte, and stood next to him at the window, Whatever it is, Arte, you have to trust me enough to tell me.

The taller man looked at West, his voice full of barely restrained emotion, I trust you with my life, Jim, you know that.

Then what's wrong, Arte?

Artemus turned and walked back toward the center of the car, his timbre pensive.

I've tendered my resignation.

Jim stared at his partner, dumbfounded.

What the--why the hell did you do such a thing? Did I do something wrong?

No, of course not

Then what? I'm supposed to believe that you've suddenly become bored with the Service? I'm sorry Artemus, I'm not buying it.

Arte sat down wearily on the divan, leaning his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his wavy hair, trying to think of a gentle way to tell his partner the truth. There wasn't one; and not telling Jim had already taken a toll all its own on both of them.

Gordon sighed deeply in resignation, Remember when we were in New York last month, and I almost got you killed because instead of backing you up, I was passed out at the bottom of a staircase?

Yeah, one of Granger's men hit you from behind.

No, Jim. Nobody hit me.

Arte, you were out cold when I found you.

I blacked out.



You heard me. Nobody hit me. I wasn't there to help you, because I blacked out.

A slow anger started to creep onto Jim's features. How could you keep something like this from me? You could have gotten us both killed.

Guilt lit Arte's eyes and filled his voice, Don't you think I know that? He looked away, I thought I was just overtired, that it was an isolated incident that first time--

--First time? You mean it's happened more than once?

Gordon's voice grew very soft, I'm afraid so.

My God, Artemus, what were you thinking? We have to get you to a doctor.

I saw a doctor last week.



Arte looked up into Jim's face, You'd better sit down, Jim.

A lump quickly formed in West's throat, and quietly, he sat down across from Arte.

Gordon swallowed hard, The doctor found a growth, on the back of my cranium. He thinks it's going to keep growing larger. He thinks it's the reason I've blacked out, and the cause for the metallic taste in my mouth. As it grows, he expects it will press on my optic nerve, and I'll lose my vision. Eventually, it will cause dementia, paralysis, and finally, death.

West felt the fear rising in his throat, Can he remove it?

Arte shook his head, Not without causing some kind of permanent brain dysfunction, no.

Jim blinked rapidly at Arte, trying to keep the tears at bay, You're telling me you're going to die.

That was the good doctor's prognosis, James.

The two agents sat in silence, staring at one another. West couldn't digest it. Arte was too young a man to have some kind of strange and fatal disease. After a long time, West stood up.

Jim's voice was quiet, I don't want a new partner.

Gordon's timbre was soft, sympathetic, James my boy, I'm afraid you've got no choice. We're not going to win this one, partner.

In anger, West grabbed Gordon by the lapel, pulling him to his feet, Don't tell me that there's nothing we can do. We've managed to get out of hundreds of impossible situations. Together, we'll think of something. I can't accept defeat without trying. I won't.

Arte put his hands on Jim's shoulders, It's not our battle this time, Jim, it's mine.

West released his grip on Arte, his eyes stinging with moisture, I won't let you go through this alone, Arte.

You have a job to do, Jim, and you have a new partner to help you do it.

Artemus, no.

Smiling, Arte squeezed his friend's shoulders, brushed his hands across the sides Jim's neck, and then held West's face between his hands.

I'm not going to put you through this, Jim. No way.

But Arte--

Arte walked away from him and continued, Richmond has my resignation, and he's found you a new partner. Think of me as retiring to a nice, warm place, that's all.

Jim's voice was barely a whisper,

Gordon turned back to him and cupped the back of his head with his hand, It'll be okay. I want you to remember me the way I am now, as a Secret Service agent, as your partner....not as some empty shell of a man, who's headed for the nearest cemetery.

West opened his mouth to argue and Arte shook his head, Humor me, James. Just this once, okay?

Once was everything they had left, and they both knew it. All Jim could do was nod.

Gordon smiled and gently caressed the back of the head he still held, You'll be okay. The train will continue on to Washington. Richmond and Grant will meet you with your new partner when you arrive. Try not to be too hard on the new guy, Jim. Give him a chance, you might like him.

What about you?

Arte smiled and headed toward the back of the car, pulling a bag out from under the table.

I've already packed my bag. I'm going to signal Silas to stop, and take my leave of you here. As my Great-Aunt Maude was fond of saying, a big farewell scene outside of the theatre is simply melodrama at its worst......'

Arte winked at Jim and walked out, closing the door behind him. West heard the connecting door to the stable car open and close. A moment later, the train stopped, and he heard hooves moving down the ramp, and the soft neigh of his partner's horse. The ramp was then returned to the stable car, and finally, the train began to move again.

His voice was weighted with sorrow, Good-bye, Arte.

There was nothing left to do, except prepare the train for the new partner he didn't want, but was going to get. Tears fell fast and hot down Jim's cheeks. His heart was heavy, and for a long time, he couldn't move. He could only stare at the door his partner had exited through. How like Artemus to leave quoting Great-Aunt Maude. While he was sure she had been a fable of Arte's conjuring, Jim knew he would miss her greatly.

Slowly, he went about the business of tidying up the train.

The End.