No additional warnings for this scene.
Danny stared at the pen and fiddled with it. The only person within his scope of vision was Doris, who was grinning at him with her eyes popping out of her skull.
He turned the pen over and read the printing on its side (“Sandford: the Village That Cares!”). Twice. His eyes darted to the side where the Andes were bickering.
“All of it.” Andy held out his hand.
“Fuck.” Andrew had his wallet open and was pulling notes out.
“Now gent’lmen, I…er…Long day! I suppose we should all just get along home now.” Tony stuttered, trying to sound authoritative.
Danny finally looked around at everyone staring at him. He shrugged.
Nicholas drove to his cottage and got out of his car but everything was in slow motion. He was sure he was not going to be able to walk into the office the next day. Or the day after that. Or ever.
Oh, God: the Andes… He groaned and fell down on his couch, his headache exponentially worse. By tomorrow morning, the whole village would know that he kissed Danny…and the associated implications. He screwed up his face, in pain, trying to figure out a way to spin damage control.
Danny scampered back to his flat, grabbed some overnight clothes, and headed out to Nicholas’ cottage.
“Ev’nen, Danny!”
“Ev’nen, Mrs. Hawthorne!”
“Off to the Inspector’s?”
“Yes mam.”
“Have a good time.” Mrs. Hawthorne smiled from her front stoop as he walked off their street. He stopped by the small shop two lanes over.
“Ev’nen, Danny. Get’cha a pack of lager?”
“Yes, Mr. Davis. And some snacks.”
“Those organic veggie chips there jus’ came in. I thought your Inspector might like them.”
“Sure he will, thank you. ‘Ere.” Danny dug the money out of his pockets and looked warily at the bag of veggie chips.
“Thanks, Danny. Have a good time.”
“Thanks, Mr. Davis. Say ‘ello to Mary for me.”
“Will do, Danny. Our best to the Inspector.”
He left and decided to stop by the pharmacy, knowing that Nicholas developed a headache from all the swan chasing earlier that day.
“Ev’nen, Danny. Wot you lookin’ for?”
“Nicholas has a bad headache, Mrs. Turner.”
“Ay, poor dear; all those swans. Here, these’ll do ‘im. You headed over to his place for the night?” She patted his hand as she handed over a small bottle of medicine.
“Yes mam.”
“Good. These might upset his stomach, they are powerful strong, so keep an eye on ‘im.”
“Yes mam.”
“You see my boy at the station tomorrow, tell ‘im to call his mum.”
“I’ll let Tony know. Thanks, Mrs. Turner.”
“Tell the Inspector I ‘ope he feels better.”
Danny’s last stop was the closet-sized video store off the main street. He walked in and put down his purchases and looked at the ‘new arrivals’ but nothing caught his eye.
“Off t’th’Inspector’s, Danny?”
“Yeah, Wally. How’s this?” He picked up an Asian action flick.
“Terrible. Don’t waste yer money. Not like it’s Chuck Norris or anythin’.”
“Hm. Nicholas has a headache, might not be up to a lot of guns anyway.”
“Do he, now? You should give ‘im a bit a’massage, then.”
“Yeah?”
“Right around ‘is temples. Jeannie does that to me whenever me head gets cramped. Works wonders, it does.”
“I got some pills from Mrs. Turner.”
“Ay, she’ll set ‘im right. But I’m tellin’ ya, Danny: rub ‘is head.”
Danny blushed. “Um, well, okay.”
“How about this?” Wally handed him a DVD from the back wall.
“Some Like it Hot? That’s like a comedy?”
“Yeah, ‘bout two guys dressin’ up as dames to escape the mob. Queer as ‘ell, very funny. And Marylin Monroe.”
“I dunno…not much into stuff like that, Wally.” Danny sniffed in a manly way.
“The Inspector will love it, drag queens and Marylin Monroe and all. Them London types always do. And not a swan in it. Ten percent off?”
Danny gave in and bought it – ten percent off, after all – and finally headed over to Nicholas’ cottage.
“’Ey Danny!”
“Oh hey, Mr. Holmes. How’s your mum?” Danny stopped outside of the cottage, calling out to Mr. Holmes as he came out of his ancient mother’s house across the way.
“A little creaky. Would be to if I were 93. You in for the night?”
“Yeah, Nick’s got a headache. Got some pills from Mrs. Turner.”
“Oh that’ll do ‘im right. All those swans, then?”
“Yeah, it was terrible.”
“So I ‘eard. Danny, you boys wouldn’t mind lookin’ in on Mum in the morning?”
“We don’ mind that, Mr. Holmes. She’s a dear.”
“Good, good. Appreciate the two of you helping keep an eye on her.”
“Least we can do.” Danny opened the gate to Nicholas’ cottage.
“Give our best to the Inspector, hope he feels better.”
Danny nodded and walked in to find Nicholas sitting on the floor, banging the back of his head against the edge of the couch.
“’Ehyyy! Stop that! ‘Ere, I got you some pills.” Danny fetched some water and made Nicholas get up off the floor and take them.
“Danny, I can’t believe what I did today…my god…what will people say? Fraternization…or worse…”
Danny ignored his whining and settled him into the couch. “Wally said you’d like this’un.”
“He did? …Some Like it Hot! It’s a classic, Danny, starring Tony Curtis…an odd movie for him to suggest; but you don’t mind?”
“Nah.” Danny put the movie in and turned on the TV. He settled next to Nicholas. “Here, lean forward a bit.”
“What?”
“Wally said I should give you a massage to help your headache.”
“….he did?” Nicholas looked at the DVD box for Some Like it Hot again a bit more critically.
“Yeah. Oh, got you some or-gan-ic veggie snacks. They look ‘orrible. Mr. Davis got ‘em in just for you, though, told me to tell you.”
“…he did?”
“Mmmhmm. Mrs. Turner told me to keep an eye on you all night, though; those pills are strong and might upset your stomach.”
“….she…did…”
“Oh and I told Mr. Holmes we’d look in on his mum in the morning before work.”
“….you…didn’t!”
“Well of course I did, Nicholas. How would you feel if it was your mum?”
“No, no, I meant…oooo, ow…that feels wonderful….But Danny, about earlier…at the office…”
“Andy won the bet.”
“…Oh.” Nicholas grimaced in pain, finally realizing that damage control was, at this point, an oxymoron.