Title: Last Resort
Fandom: Donald Strachey Mysteries (movie canon)
Pairing: Donald Strachey/Timothy Callahan, Cadie (original character created by nyteflyer and used with her kind permission)
Media: Fanfiction, fanknitting
Rating and word count: G, about 900 words
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Richard Stevenson.
A/N: Yay! I get a user tag! During the course of filling this prompt, I decided that knitting tiny clothes is not an activity I wish to further pursue.



After two 70-hour weeks in which I’d extinguished a record-setting ten political fires (three were minor, but that wasn’t the point), covered for two sick staff members and judged a 4-H baking contest, I’d had it.

I needed a break. Trouble was, I wasn’t going to get one, at least not anytime soon. I wished I hadn’t heard the weekend ski reports; I’d have liked nothing better than to drop everything, grab Don and spend the weekend on the slopes. If nothing else, I’d have welcomed a quiet evening at home.

I tried to ignore the clock. It was after five on Friday, but I couldn’t go home until I’d planned a fundraiser, wrote and emailed next week’s agenda to the staff and found a way to cut a few thousand dollars from Senator Platt’s office budget. I thought briefly of leaving it all until Monday, but if I did that, something else would certainly go wrong and I’d be even more behind than I was now.

“Mr. Callahan?”

I looked up to see Mrs. Clements, a member of the cleaning staff. I mustered a smile. “What can I do for you?”

“Something was left for you downstairs. I thought I ought to bring it up, seeing as it’s Friday.” She placed a box on my desk. “It must have been delivered late.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Have a good weekend.”

“You, too.”

I opened it, hoping it wasn’t something that would add to my workload.

It was nothing of the sort.

One of my niece Cadie’s Ken dolls lay in the box. “Uncle Don” was dressed in garish purple pants, a striped sweater and a matching hat. A pair of skis made from cardboard were attached to one arm.



I picked up the doll, wondering if Don had gone off the deep end. Before I could reach any conclusions, I spotted a note.

“Meet me out front. Pronto.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. As I stuffed Uncle Don in my briefcase and grabbed my coat, I started planning. I could come in early Saturday or Sunday and work all day, leaving the evenings free. It wasn’t like having a real break, but it would have to do.

Don was standing beside his car, bouncing on his toes to keep warm.

“Hey, Beautiful.” He opened the passenger door and ushered me inside, then ran around to the driver’s side and hopped in. “What took you so long?”

I opened my briefcase as he drove away from the curb. “I was visiting with Uncle Don.” I sat the doll on the seat between us. “We had a nice chat, he and I.”

Don laughed. “Yeah? About what?”

“Whether or not we need to commit you.”

“Someday, maybe, but not right now.”

“You’ll need to commit me if my workload doesn’t let up.” I leaned against my seat and closed my eyes. “I’ll have to go back in tomorrow or Sunday, maybe both.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Yes, I will.”

“Won’t.”

I opened my eyes and looked at him. A smirk played around the corners of his mouth. “What are you up to?”

“Me?” He glanced in the rearview mirror. “What makes you think I’m up to something?”

“You’re always up to something.” I glanced around, aware we were heading in the opposite direction from the house. “Where are we going?”

Don picked up Uncle Don and tossed him in my lap. “Skiing. He was supposed to be a hint.”

I stared at him. “We can’t go skiing. I’ve got too much to do.”

“Too bad. I’ve already made reservations at Mount Brighton. We’ve got a suite with a fireplace, just in case you decide you don’t actually want to ski.”

“Don—”

“We’re staying through Monday. I got a good deal for booking three nights.”

“Are you even listening to me? I have too much work to do. I should have stayed over tonight, in fact. If I go away for even a day I’ll be buried in paperwork.”

Don reached over and squeezed my knee. “Trust me on this. Everything will be fine.”

“No, it won’t. Turn the car around. Right now.”

Don gave me his best “gee, whiz” expression. “Senator Platt will be so disappointed our little plan didn’t work.”

“What’s she got to do with it?”

“I called and asked if I could kidnap you for a few days. She said it was a great idea. She also seems to think you’re working too hard.”

“She does?”

“And so do I.”

“What about my work?”

“She said you have to spread the wealth.” He shot me a knowing glance. “She also said you’re micromanaging again.”

I had the grace to admit he was right. Other people in the office had to be trained to take on some of my work or I’d never be able to take a vacation. Possibilities raced through my mind — Carla could take over the agenda, and Mark could plan the fundraiser. I’d call them when we reached the resort—

“Tim?”

“What?”

“You’re on vacation.”

And so I was. I settled back in my seat, excited now. “So, we’re really going skiing? You’re not joking?”

“We’re really going skiing.”

A thought struck me. “What about clothes?”

“I already packed everything, including your tight ski pants. You know, the ones that leave nothing to my imagination?” He tapped my jaw with his knuckles. “The only thing I didn’t bring was your flannel pajamas. But you won’t be needing them.”