Little Surprises

Bert awoke with a start. His head was pounding and someone had turned up the sunlight way to bright. But besides the usual signs of a bloody big hangover, there was something wrong. Very, very, incredibly and absolutely wrong. The wrongness seemed to have sensed his regain of conciousness, as it decided this moment to turn and mumble in a rather hoarse voice: "Mornin'". At this, Bert all but jumped out of his bed. Really it was only the distinct lack of everything but his underclothes, that kept him from it. Instead his inner terror let him freeze, turning his head very, very slowly to the person who, by lack of space more than intimacy or so he hoped, was lying right beside him, touching his body in all the wrong places with his own. It took a moment for him to regain the control over his voice before he muttered: "And what the heck do you think you're doin' in my bed?"

Cec, obviously not yet quite arrived in the world of the living either, gave him an apologetic shrug and tried to wedge the sheets between them as best as he could.

"You remember anything of last night?" He asked with a small embarrassed smile. Bert suppressed the urge to shout at him that he really didn't want to, but found to his surprise that he drew a complete blank on that account anyway. Probably for the better, he grumbled silently to himself.

"Nothin'" He finally said aloud. „You?"

A headshake was all the answer he got.

„Well, can you get out of my bed now or did you wanna look at me with sheep's eyes a bit longer." Bert grumbled, growing tired of this bloody stupid situation.

„Can't. You kinda trapped me in." Cec answered in a tone that was way to calm for his friends liking.

"So, this is my fault now? Bloody waking up with my best mate and the feeling that my fricking head is gonna explode is for sure not my idea of a good morning, you better believe it."

Nevermind his grumbling, Bert peeled himself off the mattress, dragging the sheet with him against all futile attempts of Cec to hold on to it. That turned out to be a rather bad move as his mate wasn't exactly any more dressed than himself. Bert covered his eyes a moment too late. He feared the picture of Cec in only a pair of tighty whiteys and a singlet was something that had burned itself into his conscience forever, never to be unseen again. While of course he was a communist and believed in sharing, Bert was quite certain there were things that you should keep to yourself. Right now he really felt no desire to look at his friend any more or worse, talk to him. Muttering obscenities under his breath he wrapped the sheet around himself and in a little hobbling dance worked his way through the room, picking up disposed off clothes as he went along. Something in his pounding brain suggested, that last nights pants were missing, which didn't increase his mood in the slightest. He finally managed to find some in the dirty clothes basked that was pretty empty since most of his gear had never found it's way there. They would have to do.

Cec still hadn't moved an inch, instead trying to hide with a deer in the headlight expression in a complete lack of action.

"You gonna stay there all day or maybe put some clothes on before I go blind?"

Bert's irritation had somewhat waned with the safe feeling of clothes around his body, but for good measure he would keep berating his friend till they were both dressed and had managed to somehow erase last night's memory – whatever it might have been.

Cec shrugged.

"My clothes are gone."

The string of swearing that escaped from Bert's mouth at this would probably have even made Miss Fisher blush and that said something about it. Whatever had they been up to last night that had caused their clothes to not even make it into his bedroom, he couldn't help but wonder, as hard as he tried. In all his years he had brought home ladies that had never happened and that despite him for sure not being a blushing virgin. Trust Cec to lose his pants the first night they got too drunk to remember anything.

Bert started his dance again, trying to find a second set of clothes that his best friend might even possibly fit into. At the moment he really didn't care how long things had been lying around on his floor as long as it stopped him having to stare at white undergarments. When he finally threw a pile of rather smelly clothes onto the bed, he found that Cec's mood had gone through a change. Calm and smiling no more, he grabbed a pair of socks that seemed to have spent a passionate night with a cheese grater and fiddled idly with it, looking upset. Bert sighed and sat down at the edge of the bed, pointedly turning his back to his friend.

"Don't worry bout her, mate. She won't ever know."

"She knows I haven't come home last night."

"So you tell her you crashed at mine. Won't surprise her."

While that was true, Bert knew the problem lay somewhere else. They would know. Whatever the heck they had been up to in the gone night would have some impact on Cec's marriage and likely on their friendship, too. Damn Allen's home brewed grog. He rubbed both hands over his face in an attempt to clear his head.

"Alright mate, I gather we better find out what happened."

"How you propose we do that then?"

The fact, that Cec's voice sounded like he would break into bloody tears any moment together with his own skull that just started hammering again, let Bert's temperament flare once again.

"We go and ask, won't we? Someone's gotta remember something, right? And if everything else fails, we ask Miss Fisher for help. What we know a lady detective for if not to find out things, ey?"

He pulled himself upright in sudden resolve.

„You put some clothes on and I'll find myself some pills for that stupid head of mine. Meet you at the door in five." And off he went. Bert wasn't quite sure if he actually wanted to know what he'd gotten up to in the last evening. He dimly remembered sitting at Joe Allen's bar, chatting with the owner, actually more fighting with him over some Marxian theory that he couldn't remember anymore now. Not that it mattered. Cec had been playing cards with Tom and Walt at one of the tables. Seemed to have been rather enjoying themselves, hitting the grog too hard and too fast. Of course he just had to budge in there, hadn't he? Show them, what a real man was made of. Riffling through his kitchen drawers, trying to find the pill bottle Miss Fisher had pressed in his hand some time ago when he had been a bit out of it due to a splitting headache that may or may not have been related to a rather lose approach to beer the night before, Bert cursed himself for having been so stupid. Real man he was, dragging his married friend into this mess. Of course, it could be harmless enough, couldn't it? While Bert was aware there was men out there who preferred other gent's company, he had always been into sheilas himself and since Cec was quite smitten with his Alice, he assumed him to be the same. Then again, you didn't wake up in your tighty witheys with another man half wrapped around you unless someone took your clothes off in the first place, did ya? Angry at himself the Cabbie kicked against the cabinet, regretting the decision the very same second as pain flashed in front of his eyes. Holding his foot he hopped through the kitchen, once again resourcing to all the swears he could think of in his muddled brain.

"You alright?"

He hadn't heard him coming.

"What'd ya think?" Bert ground out, putting his foot back onto the floor and finally spotting the white pill bottle that innocently sat on top of the sink. He clutched at it like a starving man would grab at food and dry-swallowed three of them. He immediately felt better. When he turned around, Cec had creased up his nose in disgust.

"Something smells off here."

"Well, what'd you expect in a bachelors kitchen, mate? Freshly baked bread? For that you better go home to your Alice."

Bert regret snapping the moment he saw the shadow cross Cec's face. Alright, so he needed to be a bit more gentle with him today. And pray, that he hadn't been too gentle with him last night. At the thought he shuddered slightly.

"You ready?" He asked instead of digging any deeper into this and fished for his hat.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Just when they reached the door, someone chose to knock.

Bert pulled it open with more resolve then he felt and found himself confronted with Walt, who was grinning way too much for his liking. Behind him, Cec seemed to think along similar lines.

„Morning, guys. Slept well?"

The men groaned inwardly. Walt was way too smug and that could only mean that there had really occurred something that they would never live down. Their eyes locked for a second, then Bert dragged his friend through the door and slammed it shut behind him.

„Actually, we were just coming for you." He said.

„Yeah, because we'd really like to know what happened." Cec pushed in, unnecessarily.

Walt found himself confronted with two rather angry looking friends and backed away slightly only to find that there was a rather solid door in his back.

"You don't remember?"

They shook their head in unison.

"Nothing?" He tried again.

"We wouldn't ask otherwise, would we?" Bert snapped. Their friend stared at them speechlessly, took in Bert's anger and the worry edged on Cec's face and then to their astonishment, burst into loud laughter. The host at this stage had troubles fighting the itch in his fingers to just grab the giggling man by his collar and shove him against the wall till he would spit out everything. Probably not the best move though with someone who knew more than you did yourself about something with a huge potential of embarrassment. He tried himself on a deep breath, when the laughter slowly subsided and Walt wiped a tear out of his eye.

"So you just woke up together this morning? In your underwear, right?" Another giggle threatened to take his voice away while the men could just stare. Bert felt his patience slipping, but to his surprise Cec got their first.

"Would you just stop your fricking games and say what to tell my wife when I get home to her?" He yelled. At this point, Walt forgot to laugh. Seeing Cec angry was too much of a shock, though his eyes still betrayed the fact that he kept thinking this incredibly funny and would tell the tale for many years to come. But he finally opened his mouth.

"Nothing happened, boys. Nothing to get your panties in a twist about. You just drank too much and Bert puked on the way home. Rather good aim too, hit both of you with a thorough soaking."

Despite the disgusted look Cec threw him, Bert felt himself sigh in relief. So that probably explained the disappearing act of their clothes.

"And how did he end up in my bed then?" He said, gesturing his head towards his fellow Cabbie.

At that new giggling set in that died quickly at the thunder in Bert's eyes.

"Tom thought it was funny to leave you both here. Said he'd like to see your faces waking up together. And really neither of us could be buggered to drag him home, too. He was singing."

Obviously that last statement was supposed to explain everything. Bert felt his fists ball up and decided to get rid of Walt before he would reconsider his choice in friends. After he had closed the door behind the still way too happy man, he found that Cec had ventured back into the kitchen to drag a disgustingly sour smelling bucket out under the sink. It held, no surprises there, last nights clothes. After filling the bucket with water, watched by his friend, he sat down on a chair heavily.

"I better get going home then." Cec said, his voice unreadable.

"Yeah, you better. Wouldn't want your little wife to worry." Bert said, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.

His friend looked up, finding his gaze and nodded. "You know." He uttered, his voice serious. "Not that I enjoyed this morning, but of any blokes I could've woken up to, at least it was you."

"Yeah." Bert said, letting his friend know that that was the only response he had to expect. Cec got up and little later pulled the door shut behind himself. Bert still stood leaning against his kitchen counter when he heard the quiet clicking noise of the lock.

"Better you than anyone else, mate." He finally spoke into the resulting silence.