Welcome by InSilva
Disclaimer: not mine, no way, no how.
A/N: a little welcome back piece for NothingToulouse.
Walking through the door, Danny nudged the foil cartons and the pizza boxes on the floor with his toe.
"Always imagined moving in with Isabel would curb your untidiness."
Rusty looked up at him from the couch where he was propped up, cover casually thrown over his legs.
"Why?" he asked after a moment or so and Danny shrugged.
"Woman's touch?"
Rusty grinned. "Yeah, because Tess has you so tamed."
"Thought you'd have seen me coming." Danny nodded at the front window with the blinds which didn't let anyone see in but which afforded a fine view of the drive. "Thought you'd be up and at it with a welcome committee."
"Again, I want to say 'why'?"
Danny shut the door behind him with a smile and walked over to stand in front of the couch.
"Where's Isabel?"
"Over in Europe. Spending a few weeks catching up with her father."
There was a softness in Rusty's voice and Danny heard not for the first time the happiness in him at the reunion engineered.
"Where's Tess?"
"Her Aunt Silvia's ill. She's headed up to Boston."
"You got something against the Red Sox? Or you just worried you'll wander into Cheers and they won't know your name?"
Danny chuckled. "I'm persona non grata. Her folks don't know details but they know I hover on the edge of legal and Aunt Silvia's a bit strait-laced. And don't say it runs in the family."
Rusty's lips tightened and Danny knew it was at the thought of Danny not being welcome somewhere.
"It's OK, Martin Luther. I don't much care for Aunt Silvia either. She gave us a trivet for a wedding present. Both times."
"So you're saying unimaginative or forgetful. Or was she making a point about you being too hot to handle?"
"Think she was hinting she'd like to come round for tea. She's got a long wait." Danny glanced at the television playing in the corner. "Movie time?"
"Yeah. Beers in the fridge. Potato chips in the cupboard."
Rusty showed no signs of moving.
"I'll make myself at home then."
You do that.
Danny headed into the kitchen.
Later and Rusty still occupied the couch while Danny was installed in the easy chair. 'The Wizard of Oz' was coming to an end.
"You know the thing that people forget about this movie is that Toto is toast."
Danny considered the statement and then swivelled his head in Rusty's direction.
Rusty was unrepentant. "What? You imagine Myra Gulch is going to give up on her little vendetta?"
"She didn't get killed by the tornado?"
"You think comeuppance works that neatly?"
There was a pause.
"Maybe they could dye the dog," Danny suggested.
"Yeah. That'd work." A beat. "Rather than the dog dying."
Danny ignored him and channel-hopped.
"What about 'Gremlins'?"
"I find Spielberg's sentiment escapes in worrying ways."
"Santa getting stuck down the chimney?"
"Yeah. What kind of an image is that to leave kids with?" Rusty shook his head then a gleam appeared in his eye. "Of course, sentiment in the right places…"
It earned him a glare from Danny at the memory of Rusty walking in on unstoppable tears flowing and a movie twenty minutes from the end: there had been bemused silence one side of the couch and sobs the other; tissues had been wordlessly passed.
"We got 'Superman'…or 'Goldfinger'…" suggested Danny.
"That'll do nicely, Miss Moneypenny."
It was heading towards evening and Danny stretched.
"You want to go out and grab some food?"
"We could order in," Rusty shrugged.
Danny smiled. "How long have you been sitting on that couch anyway?"
There was the tiniest flicker in Rusty's eyes and Danny sat upright.
Rus?
Rusty grimaced in the face of the inevitable as Danny got to his feet and pulled the cover away to reveal the crutches and Rusty's left leg buried in plaster.
"Oh, you've seen 'Affair to Remember' one too many times. How?" Danny asked staring at the plaster cast and his voice was steady.
"Little argument with a sidewalk."
Danny raised his gaze to Rusty's face.
"How?" he snapped and Rusty sighed.
"Left a car in an unorthodox fashion."
Rusty's eyes were telling him, asking him, begging him not to push it. The inner battle raged within Danny: the need to know and the desire to punish those responsible and then, Rusty…there was Rusty… He sighed and looked down at the couch, at the garbage that spoke of days of shuffling to the door or the kitchen or the downstairs toilet and back again.
"How long were you planning on staying there anyway?"
"Figured you had to sleep sometime."
"Isabel doesn't know." That much was obvious.
"Isabel doesn't need to know."
"No. No, she doesn't," Danny agreed. He bent down and gently pulled Rusty upright. "Let's see about getting you freshened up."
They moved carefully up the stairs and as Danny ran the bath, Rusty rested on the edge.
"There's Pinot Grigio in the fridge," Rusty said suddenly. "And we can order Chinese. And 'Once Upon a Time in the West' is showing later."
Danny smiled at him. "You're welcome."