Warning: some swearing, naughty insinuations.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hot Fuzz or Tesco.
02 - Proper Action
The radio crackled quietly. "Heh, Danny. Are ya busy? Jacob's openin' the new pub. Fancy coming down for a quick pint?"
Danny grinned and took another bite of his second cornetto of the day. The commendable Sergeant Angel was asleep in the driver's seat; head against the window, mouth open, drooling on his uniform.
"Gimme a minute. Nick's sleepin."
"He's what?"
"Yeah, he nodded off a while ago. Lazy bastard!" Danny laughed and nudged Nicholas. "Oi! Wake up!"
Nicholas snorted and shot upright, hand on his nightstick. "What. What?" He wiped the corner of his mouth and met Danny's gotchya mate smile.
"Pub ceremony is in ten minutes. I told Doris we'd be there."
"Oh." Nicholas cleared his throat and started the car. "Right." He glanced over his shoulder and pulled away from the curb, joining the sparse afternoon traffic. Jacob's new pub had opened near the outskirts of Sandford, a quaint little place that had attracted growing curiosity over the last six months.
It was a short drive. The road was draped with leaves and looked as picturesque as it had under the NWA. While Sandford had regained some of its respectability, courtesy of Nicholas and his neurotic attention to detail, it had failed to regain its title as Village of the Year. A tender hope had begun to blossom that perhaps this year would be different.
"God, look at all the people here." Danny leaned forward, cornetto dripping on his knee.
Nicholas glanced heavenward for patience. "It's not that crowded," he muttered belligerently, earning a wide-eyed look from his partner.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Danny, there are two cars." Nicholas frowned and pulled into the well gravelled parking lot in front of the pub. He grasped the parking brake and switched the ignition off, then turned his full attention onto his partner. "While I appreciate the fact that Sandford has a Tesco, I hardly think that every public ceremony now merits a police presence. Certainly not one that involves less than six people."
"You weren't complainin a few minutes ago." Danny wiped the ice cream from his pants and took another healthy bite off its cone. "'Sides, it's the pub. Doesn't matter whether we're still a bit small compared to Lun-din." That earned an incredulous huff. "Still nice to come down and see what's goin' on. Besides, I promised Doris. Do you have somethin better to do?"
Nicholas opened his mouth, then closed it and opened the door. They walked wordlessly towards the pub, and spotted a painted stand filled with bicycles.
Danny grinned. "See? Lotsa people, Nick. Look, that makes seven more people. Oh…wait, that's Kitty's bike. Make that eight more. Ha."
Nicholas gave him a blank look.
"Kitty's niece is here." Danny threw his arms up in exasperation, tossing bits of ice cream on the grass. "Don't you know anythin' 'round here?"
The door's creaking masked Nicholas' embarrassed "no."
It was hot inside the pub—christened The Golden Oak. People were jammed into every quaint corner of the room. Nicholas inhaled deeply and shouldered his way through the crowd, smiling woodenly at a relentless outpouring of hellos and good afternoons.
"Oi, is that Nick and Danny?" A loud, female voice cut through the din. Doris stood up and waved her hands wildly, more for shock value than necessity. "Over here!"
"Heey, Dorie." Danny shoved Nicholas forward and bulldozed through several new faces. There was a mild outcry, but nothing another drink couldn't cure.
Sandford's finest were stationed at the table. Doris sat down with a grin and took a long pull of her beer, though she was still in uniform. The Andy's regarded Nicholas and Danny with bland contempt, one smoking, the other eating a sizable portion of chocolate cake.
"Glad you made it, Nicholarse."
"And your monkey, too."
"Where'd you get the cake?" Danny demanded immediately, cornetto mysteriously absent.
"Tesco," was the scathing reply.
Nicholas heaved a long sigh and removed his cap. He walked towards the end seat and would have sat down had he not ran into Mrs. Fletcher. Her arthritic hands were sloshing with beer.
"Goodness, Nicholas. I almost lost my drinks." She laughed heartily before leaning closer, brows furrowed, eyes gleaming. "Say, Sergeant. There's a few grass stains on your trousers. And you're walkin' a bit funny. Georgie's pigs do a number on you, eh?" Her voice carried throughout the entire pub.
The air thickened with hilarity. Nicholas turned around slowly and fixed them all with a hard-edged stare, which had absolutely no effect. The Andy's laughed outright. Doris nearly choked on her drink, and snorted behind her hand. Tony smirked into his glass.
"Yeah, Nick." Danny chimed in. "How's your knee?"
Nicholas smiled pleasantly at Mrs. Fletcher, but his face went white with fury. He gave Danny an evil eye as he sat down.
"Still a bit stiff," he replied frostily, and gestured for a pint.
I don't...do movies, but this fic turned out pretty good considering. I'm happy. R&R if you want. Don't if you don't.