The Wizard Saves the New Year

A little set up.... Over at Eight Ladies Writing they've been having Friday word sprints using a randomly generated list of words. The character below, Jenna Hansen (SFPD officer and FBI couter-terrorism team member) has been evolving on Fridays for the last couple of months. "The Wizard" is a new addtion and this story gives more background on both of them. You are currently at a disadvantage, because I have not posted any of the previous Jenna Hansen story here yet, because it isn't finished. 

This week was the annual Eight Ladies Holiday story challenge. This is my story for this year.

The Wizard Saves the New Year

(A Jenna Hansen Tale)

Had it been six years already?  

It's almost impossible, as a city cop, to get even one day off over a holiday, let alone a week.  Spending it in New York? Well, that conjured up images of Lady Liberty, romantic carriage rides around Central Park, exclusive shopping, unique food shops, and possibly some snow with a bag of toasty chestnuts in your hand.

What I hadn't received that year were broadway tickets, love poetry inviting me to the top of the Empire State building for a rendezvous, or even tickets to see the new giraffe enclosure at the zoo. Any of those options would have made for a fine holiday break. Instead, I had received an invite that read more as a "summons to appear" for specialized counter-terrorism training in New York over Christmas break.  So, I was spending the coveted week between Christmas and New Year learning how much more dangerous my city and my job were going to be by order of my chief and the President.

Back then I thought of him as the smooth, Casanova type.  He didn't come across a a cop, FBI, or CIA. He was dressed too sharp, tailored too well, and looked solid gold.  The rest of us came across as more tin-plated and back-woodsy. He was the kind of guy you knew was bad for you, the kind of smooth, villain, bad-boy who had velvet handcuffs in one jacket pocket and studded condoms in the other.  All the girls gathered around him like moths ready to burn up in his fire. I didn't blame any of them, when he smiled at you, you smiled back, grateful for the warmth. It was like the sun itself had deemed you worthy and beamed its perfect rays down upon you. That smile was overlooked by the deepest blue eyes you could ever swim in, and surrounded by nearly jet-black hair that was perfectly content to stay put, but for a rogue curl that would drop down as a tease. Sin in a suit.

For the most part, the training was just as you would expect: long, dry, and alcohol inducing. The training exercises were much more stimulating, and after long periods of sitting, I relished the chance to be more hands on. I even got a piece of that solid gold suit. 

Just when I thought I had him where I wanted him, he managed to twist things around an get my face into the wall. He pressed in tight, making sure I knew his suit was cut for fit and function, not just flattery. Then he laughed just a little and whispered in my ear, "Most girls wouldn't fight so hard, love." Then he kissed my neck. 

I'd be lying if I said it wasn't hot, but he'd pissed me off. I slid down and back in to him, just a little, with a slight groan and he eased his grip ever so slightly, bringing his thigh just a little closer in. Being a polite professional, I didn't grab for his more sensitive bits, as I could have, but I did get a more than lover's grasp on his inner thigh. To his credit, he neither screamed nor dropped, but he did give me an opening to switch things around and get him cuffed on the ground. It was my turn to whisper sweet nothings now. I leaned down to his ear and said, "I'm a woman, not a girl.", and I nipped at his ear.

I took my time patting him down and enjoyed every minute of it. I relieved him of two pistols, three knives, a pocket watch (that seemed "very dangerous" at the time), and four ribbed, "lubed for her pleasure" condoms. The director stopped me before I could locate the velvet handcuffs that I knew were hidden somewhere. 

"That's enough Hansen. Stand down."

He rolled over, got the cuffs in front, and had them on the floor almost instantly.  In less than a minute he was collecting his gear and smiling at me like he'd just won the lottery.  He looked over at the director, "She'll do."

Hansen, you're dismissed. Report back to me at 8pm, ready for duty. Looking around, I noticed everyone else had already been dismissed.

That's how I found myself hanging from the New Years' ball downtown, less than an hour before it dropped.  And this after an exhilarating, but not at all romantic ride on horseback, at top speed, through Central Park on borrowed NYPD ponies. 

"You drop me and you'll never get laid again, because I'll come haunt your ass and scare them all away." He held my hand, grabbed my arm and started to pull me up. 

"Have a little faith, Firecracker!" He smiled his halogen-beam smile down at me. 

"I am not kidding, Westin, you won't even get a sheep! I'll make it my afterlife's work." 

He got me into the ball and pulled me in tight. It felt good. I wasn't sure whether it was the heat coming from him or the lack of draft up my heavily beaded party dress- either way, I had something solid under my feet. 

"Did you get it?" 

That made me want to pull off one of my four-inch stilettos and stab him in the throat.

"Of course I did." And slapped the ten pound half-ball of an explosive into his hand. "I'm not just giving a thong shot to all of New York and the national networks for nothing."  Good thing I'd had that Brazilian wax job two weeks ago, when I thought I would be in Hawaii for this week.

"How are we going to make this thing disappear, now that we got it?"


Sure  enough, he proceeded to pull a mini, Unmanned Aerial Vehicle, from a case I never even saw him carrying.

The ball had begun to drop, carrying us down to the thousands of people in Times Square.  

"A little help, please." He handed the bomb, with UAV attached, back to me.


"I need you to hold that out there, propulsion away from you, while I start it and send it away." 

"How about I fly it and you stick yourself out of the ball?!" 

"You aren't rated for it and we only have one chance. Now get yourself up there, and for heavens sakes, get a good grip this time!" 

"I'll grip you, you smug son of a..." And it was away. I counted down the last ten seconds with the rest of the world, and BANG! The bomb went off, on schedule, for the New Year.  

His hands wrapped around my waist and got me safely to the floor, inside the ball, once more.  Facing me, he winked one of his deep, sea-blue eyes at me, gave a little wolf-whistle and smiled.  

"You're quite the heartbreaker, Hansen, the world is a safer and more beautiful place because of your red thong, and that little black rose tattoo on your derrière. Perfection."

Of course he would look, how could he not, as he guided the UAV from between my spread legs, whilst the wind tugged the bottom of my dress ever upwards. Without the all of the decorative beading, the whole world might have seen my lack of bra as well. 

"You owe me dinner."

"How's that, love?"

"No one gets that view without dinner, dessert, a couple of drinks, and some serious, previous handholding and such." 

"Only all of New York and at least a million viewers nationwide." 

I straightened up and raised an eyebrow. "You must think you're some kind of Wizard?"


"Yes, because a magician pulls off tricks, but you're able to seemingly bend reality to your will." 

"The Wizard. I like that." 

He smiled. I was giving him credit for a smirk that was all sex-appeal and charm, rather than condescension. He then gently reached for my hand and suggested we leave.

As we exited the building into the cheering, kissing, crowd. He took off his suit jacket and tucked me in it like a treasured jewel. He offered me a yellow rose he pulled, from heaven only knows where, and said, "You are quite right. It seems that I am in quite in arrears and well behind in your debt good lady. I would gladly make up the difference to you in any way you see fit." 

He warmed me with another perfect smile and a mini-bow, "Miss India Ink Black Rose, I am yours to command." 

I think I may have blushed, just a bit.  "Happy New Year, Wizard."

"Happy New Year, India Rose." 

We kissed and the fireworks continued...just like the movies. Dinner was pretty good too.

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