Mike and Davy drabble
Taking a break from my Sherlock Holmes posts to put this up; it's a thank-you drabble for someone on tumblr who made me an adorable Mike & Davy gifset. They requested Mike & Davy cuteness in exchange, so here's this; it's pre-series, I'd say early in my Lone Star and Union Jack headcanon of "they knew each other two years before meeting Micky and Peter," so it wouldn't be too long after they formed their double act.
Ever since their friendship had formed, Mike had been more willing to offer Davy his advice. But there was often one area where Mike just didn’t seem to be able to help him much because Davy always seemed to be in over his head-girls.
And one such occasion happened one evening when Davy returned while Mike was putting the finishing touches on a tossed salad he had prepared for part of their dinner. He knew from the moment that Davy ran back to their beachside home and locked the front door behind him that the English boy had landed himself into some sort of trouble.
“What happened to you?” Mike asked, his eyebrows arched as he looked up from the sheet music he was writing.
“I was just chased here by three dozen girls!” Davy exclaimed.
“I warned you about borrowing my cologne…”
“Very funny,” the younger boy muttered, using a stepladder to try to see through the peephole “…They’re still out there…!”
“What did you say to them-that you finally decided to go steady with one of them?”
“Of course not! I’m not about to tie meself down to anyone!”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“We had this raffle last week-at the school dance. Winner would receive two train tickets to spend a weekend in San Francisco.”
“And you won?!” Mike exclaimed.
“Yeah, I did!” Davy grinned, pulling an envelope from his jacket pocket. “The only problem is, I can’t decide which of the girls to take with me.”
“Oh,” Mike said, turning his attention back to the salad and seasoning it with a bit of oil and vinegar. “Well, I don’t think I can help you much here…”
“I know,” Davy sighed. “But it’s nice to know I’ve got someone here to hold them off long enough for me to make my escape if I have to make a run for it.”
“Ah, there is no way I’m leaving myself to the mercy of three dozen chicks,” Mike informed him. “I’ll be running right beside you-if not ahead.”
“Well, I had to ask…” Davy mused.
He sat down in a chair, staring at the envelope in his hands.
“Who to take…?” he murmured, over and over again.
“You can worry about that later,” Mike announced after a while, pulling Davy from his thoughts. “Now, we eat.”
He pulled the main course from the little toaster oven.
“What’s that?” Davy asked, his mouth watering. Being chased by the girls had caused him to forget how hungry he really was.
“Eggplant parmesan,” the Texan replied.
“…You must be joking. How on earth did you make eggplant parmesan in that little toaster oven?”
“With great difficulty.”
Davy chuckled, shaking his head.
“Well, it’s great,” he said, after sampling it. “You’ve pulled off a little miracle, you know-making something like this out of that secondhand toaster oven…”
“Let’s just say that I accepted the challenge,” Mike smirked, getting his own serving and starting to eat.
Davy ate, as well, his mind slowly drifting back to his predicament. About halfway through the meal, he began to scribble some of the girls’ names on a piece of paper.
“…Well, I’m not taking her,” he murmured to himself. “She wouldn’t give me the time of day if I didn’t have the tickets…” He scribbled the name out. “…This is far more complicating than it has any right to be…”
Mike watched him with interest, but sitting in silence.
“Mike…” Davy said, placing the pencil down in frustration. “What would you do if you were me?”
“Well, I’d at least put that out of my mind until I finished dinner…”
“You know what I mean. Who would you go with?”
Mike shrugged.
“I can’t really say, seeing as though I don’t know much about those chicks. But, if it was me, knowing that I’d be spending a weekend in a strange city-however fun and adventurous it may be-I’d go with whoever it was I know I’d be able to enjoy their company and be able to depend on in a pinch. This isn’t some run-of-the-mill daytrip; you’ve won something special. Make the most of it, and pick who you’d think would be the best choice.”
“The best choice…” Davy repeated.
He lapsed into silence for the rest of the evening, staring at the list of names on the paper. Mike went back to work on his sheet music. Every so often, the silence was broken, either by Mike humming a few bars from the tune he was composing, or by Davy exhaling a quiet “Aaaarrrrrrrgh” of frustration.
Mike eventually turned in after 11, pleased at how the song was turning out.
“Don’t stay up too late,” he called to Davy as he headed up the stairs.
The Texan thought of nothing else that night; he fell asleep fairly quickly.
It was the next morning that brought a surprise to Mike. He had just pulled on his robe when he noticed an envelope on the floor in front of the door, as though someone had slipped it under the frame.
Mike picked it up, suppressing a smile as he pulled out a train ticket from the envelope-a train ticket to San Francisco.
He headed downstairs now; Davy was there, watching the seagulls out the window as he ate from a bowl of cereal.
“I found this,” the Texan said, holding up the ticket. “It’s yours, isn’t it?”
“Well, it’s yours now,” the English boy answered, with a slight smile. “You were right, you know-I had to pick someone whose company I’d enjoy, and someone whom I’d be able to depend on. And that’s why I chose my best friend… assuming he forgives me for being too stupid enough not to think of him from the start… D’you think he’ll forgive me if I tell him that I won’t be making that same mistake ever again?”
“Oh, I think he will, Tiny,” Mike said, returning the smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d better start figuring out what to pack.”
“Yeah, I guess, I’d better, too,” Davy said, gulping down the rest of his cereal and heading to his room.
Mike shook his head in amusement again. He hoped he hadn’t betrayed his emotions too much; truth to be told, he had been initially disappointed when it had seemed last evening that Davy hadn’t seemed to consider asking him if he had wanted to go, but hadn’t said anything-it was, after all, Davy’s own choice.
And yet, it had worked out anyway.
Mike glanced back at the ticket as he headed up the stairs and back to his room.
“Thanks, Tiny,” he said, softly.
Ever since their friendship had formed, Mike had been more willing to offer Davy his advice. But there was often one area where Mike just didn’t seem to be able to help him much because Davy always seemed to be in over his head-girls.
And one such occasion happened one evening when Davy returned while Mike was putting the finishing touches on a tossed salad he had prepared for part of their dinner. He knew from the moment that Davy ran back to their beachside home and locked the front door behind him that the English boy had landed himself into some sort of trouble.
“What happened to you?” Mike asked, his eyebrows arched as he looked up from the sheet music he was writing.
“I was just chased here by three dozen girls!” Davy exclaimed.
“I warned you about borrowing my cologne…”
“Very funny,” the younger boy muttered, using a stepladder to try to see through the peephole “…They’re still out there…!”
“What did you say to them-that you finally decided to go steady with one of them?”
“Of course not! I’m not about to tie meself down to anyone!”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“We had this raffle last week-at the school dance. Winner would receive two train tickets to spend a weekend in San Francisco.”
“And you won?!” Mike exclaimed.
“Yeah, I did!” Davy grinned, pulling an envelope from his jacket pocket. “The only problem is, I can’t decide which of the girls to take with me.”
“Oh,” Mike said, turning his attention back to the salad and seasoning it with a bit of oil and vinegar. “Well, I don’t think I can help you much here…”
“I know,” Davy sighed. “But it’s nice to know I’ve got someone here to hold them off long enough for me to make my escape if I have to make a run for it.”
“Ah, there is no way I’m leaving myself to the mercy of three dozen chicks,” Mike informed him. “I’ll be running right beside you-if not ahead.”
“Well, I had to ask…” Davy mused.
He sat down in a chair, staring at the envelope in his hands.
“Who to take…?” he murmured, over and over again.
“You can worry about that later,” Mike announced after a while, pulling Davy from his thoughts. “Now, we eat.”
He pulled the main course from the little toaster oven.
“What’s that?” Davy asked, his mouth watering. Being chased by the girls had caused him to forget how hungry he really was.
“Eggplant parmesan,” the Texan replied.
“…You must be joking. How on earth did you make eggplant parmesan in that little toaster oven?”
“With great difficulty.”
Davy chuckled, shaking his head.
“Well, it’s great,” he said, after sampling it. “You’ve pulled off a little miracle, you know-making something like this out of that secondhand toaster oven…”
“Let’s just say that I accepted the challenge,” Mike smirked, getting his own serving and starting to eat.
Davy ate, as well, his mind slowly drifting back to his predicament. About halfway through the meal, he began to scribble some of the girls’ names on a piece of paper.
“…Well, I’m not taking her,” he murmured to himself. “She wouldn’t give me the time of day if I didn’t have the tickets…” He scribbled the name out. “…This is far more complicating than it has any right to be…”
Mike watched him with interest, but sitting in silence.
“Mike…” Davy said, placing the pencil down in frustration. “What would you do if you were me?”
“Well, I’d at least put that out of my mind until I finished dinner…”
“You know what I mean. Who would you go with?”
Mike shrugged.
“I can’t really say, seeing as though I don’t know much about those chicks. But, if it was me, knowing that I’d be spending a weekend in a strange city-however fun and adventurous it may be-I’d go with whoever it was I know I’d be able to enjoy their company and be able to depend on in a pinch. This isn’t some run-of-the-mill daytrip; you’ve won something special. Make the most of it, and pick who you’d think would be the best choice.”
“The best choice…” Davy repeated.
He lapsed into silence for the rest of the evening, staring at the list of names on the paper. Mike went back to work on his sheet music. Every so often, the silence was broken, either by Mike humming a few bars from the tune he was composing, or by Davy exhaling a quiet “Aaaarrrrrrrgh” of frustration.
Mike eventually turned in after 11, pleased at how the song was turning out.
“Don’t stay up too late,” he called to Davy as he headed up the stairs.
The Texan thought of nothing else that night; he fell asleep fairly quickly.
It was the next morning that brought a surprise to Mike. He had just pulled on his robe when he noticed an envelope on the floor in front of the door, as though someone had slipped it under the frame.
Mike picked it up, suppressing a smile as he pulled out a train ticket from the envelope-a train ticket to San Francisco.
He headed downstairs now; Davy was there, watching the seagulls out the window as he ate from a bowl of cereal.
“I found this,” the Texan said, holding up the ticket. “It’s yours, isn’t it?”
“Well, it’s yours now,” the English boy answered, with a slight smile. “You were right, you know-I had to pick someone whose company I’d enjoy, and someone whom I’d be able to depend on. And that’s why I chose my best friend… assuming he forgives me for being too stupid enough not to think of him from the start… D’you think he’ll forgive me if I tell him that I won’t be making that same mistake ever again?”
“Oh, I think he will, Tiny,” Mike said, returning the smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d better start figuring out what to pack.”
“Yeah, I guess, I’d better, too,” Davy said, gulping down the rest of his cereal and heading to his room.
Mike shook his head in amusement again. He hoped he hadn’t betrayed his emotions too much; truth to be told, he had been initially disappointed when it had seemed last evening that Davy hadn’t seemed to consider asking him if he had wanted to go, but hadn’t said anything-it was, after all, Davy’s own choice.
And yet, it had worked out anyway.
Mike glanced back at the ticket as he headed up the stairs and back to his room.
“Thanks, Tiny,” he said, softly.