An Old Friend: Version B Part 10

"Terry, I have a favor to ask of you," Michael started nervously, looking down at his figeting hands.
 
Jonesy looked at him curiously and raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Mike?"
 
Michael looked like he was about to speak but ended up staring at him, almost like a deer caught in headlights. 
 
"Well?? Spit it out, Mike, we have to get out there if we're going to finish up this scene!" Jonesy raised his voice impatiently.
 
Michael couldn't believe how hard it was for him to ask the question.  He blamed it on his reluctance to ever mention Lisa's existence to his friends.  He had known her nearly ten years; why hadn't he said anything to the Pythons earlier, as in back when they first conceived Flying Circus?  He had been sent out with the duty of picking up food for himself and the others on the way to one of their writing sessions at Jonesy's house.  He ran into Lisa at the supermarket.  It was a brief reunion, yet one that made him about ten minutes late, and he hadn't given Graham a ride so he had almost no excuse.  He had mentioned something about a "bit of car trouble," and they seemed to accept his alibi with no suspicion.  Mike was afraid to admit it, but he dreaded being teased about having a....gasp...girlfriend.  He snorted when he recalled his foolish copout.
 
Now he was standing outside his hotel room in his dressing gown and slippers, looking and feeling foolish, worried about what Jonesy would think of his request.
 
Then he realized that it was probably all for naught, anyway.  Surely Eric must have told them all about what had taken place late that night, and they were now all aware that he had a girl.  Why not just do as Jonesy asked and spit it out?
 
Michael sighed deeply. "Alright.  Terry, can I bring my girl along for filming today?" he blurted out, never taking his eyes off his hands.
 
Jonesy furrowed his brow in confusion.  Michael slowly lifted his gaze back up to Jonesy's face, ever so cautiously.
 
"I beg your pardon??" Jonesy said incredulously.
 
Michael winced slightly, although he had sort of expected such a reaction.
 
"Your GIRL??" Jonesy asked again, his face contorted in confusion.
 
Mike's face blanched.  He realized that Eric must not have told any of the others about what had happened.  "Er...um...yeah," he answered, his voice trembling nervously.
 
Jonesy's expression softened, and instead he raised a curious eyebrow.  "Your girl?" he repeated, a bit quieter this time.
 
"You mean Eric hasn't told you?" Michael asked.
 
"Told me what?" Jonesy asked suspiciously.
 
"About what happened last night..." Mike trailed off.
 
Terry looked at him with his brow furrowed once again, and Michael felt his cheeks grow hot.
 
"Never mind," he answered awkwardly, screwing his eyes shut.
 
Lisa had since gotten dressed and was in the room, sitting on the end of the bed, brushing her hair.  Earlier in the morning, Michael had taken the liberty of getting breakfast for her, as a sort of peace offering for what had happened that night.  He really didn't have much of a reason to apologize, other than for the fact that she didn't deserve to be in the middle of the altercation.  Even though Eric was one of his best friends, he could really be a git at times.
 
Lisa had planned on heading back to London after breakfast, but Michael persuaded her to stay another day.  He was not the type to brag, but he wanted to take her along for filming that day.  They were heading back to Doune Castle to finish up a few scenes which had, in the words of Terry Jones, "uneven" takes, especially the French Taunting and Castle Anthrax scenes.  She agreed and was even a bit excited, as she had never been on a film set before.  Michael giggled at her almost childlike excitement.  He told her he'd have to ask his "boss" if it were possible for her to come along, but there shouldn't be any problem.  Now, his "boss"...er, best friend, was staring at him as if he had three heads.
 
Michael and Terry stared at each other for a few seconds, an awkward silence around them, save for the faint, distant sounds of clanking cutlery and people chatting in the dining room a floor below them.
 
"So, can I bring her or not?" Michael resumed, raising his eyebrows.
 
"You're serious?" Jonesy asked, his eyes narrowed.
 
Michael nodded, his eyes turned downward.
 
Jonesy looked at him for a second, then suddenly and unexpectedly burst into laughter.
 
Michael looked back up at him with widened eyes and a look of total mortification on his face.
 
"You have a girl, Mike? You must be joking!" Jonesy said in between fits of laughter.
 
Michael felt his face grow hot once again as he fixed Jonesy with a deadly glare.
 
"Ooo, what are you gonna do to me, Mike? Are you gonna come after me with a pointed stick?" he teased, picking up on Michael's "if-looks-could-kill" expression.  For once he stopped laughing and assumed a more serious countenance. "Oops...no, you can't.  That's Eric's shtick," he blurted out before laughing once again.
 
Michael was torn between wanting to tear Jonesy a new arse and being extremely embarrassed as his friend's loud guffawing was attracting attention, and several guests had opened their doors and peeked out.
 
He turned his head as he noticed a middle-aged couple, who were looking at them curiously. "Er...sorry, sorry, please, um, move along now.  Nothing to see here," he said sheepishly, doing his best policeman impersonation.
 
He turned sharply back to Jonesy who was still giggling and grabbed him by his shirt collar. "Shut up, you stupid git, or else I'll..." he hissed.
 
"Or else you'll what?" Jonesy replied somewhat incredulously, though he was still giggling.  "You can't do anything to me.  You're the nicest Python, remember? You can't destroy that reputation of yours!"
 
Michael glared at him angrily...
 
...and he grabbed Terry by the arm, swung his door open, and shoved him inside.
 
"Terry, meet Lisa," he said abruptly, slamming the door shut once the two of them were inside.
 
Lisa looked up with wide eyes and dropped the hairbrush on the end of the bed.  She looked down at the short, stocky, panting welshman who was nearly lying on the floor on his stomach, and back up at Michael. "Er...Michael? What's..." she started curiously.
 
"Lisa darling, meet Terry Jones, my best friend," he said quickly, with a sarcastic emphasis on the last two words.
 
Jonesy, still panting, slowly lifted his head up toward Lisa's confused face. "Hello," he panted.
 
Lisa's brow furrowed in confusion. "Er...Hello," she returned suspiciously before turning back toward Michael.
 
Michael was still standing near the door.  His face was red, either from anger or embarrassment, but most likely both.  He nervously raked a hand through his bangs, attempting to sweep them off to the side of his face.  He suddenly felt rather foolish.  Lisa had always known him to be quite an easy-going person and here he was, flinging Terry Jones into the room, slamming doors, and acting like an immature jerk.  He lowered his voice slightly. "Sorry, love, but my best friend here could not entertain the possibility of me having a girlfriend.  I thought it best to prove it to him," he stated, glowering down at Jonesy.
 
Terry finally picked himself up off the floor and smoothed down his wavy black hair.  He turned toward the two of them and blushed furiously. "S-so, you're Mike's," he began awkwardly, gazing down toward the floor.
 
"Er...Yes, I've known him for...quite a few years, now," Lisa began shyly.  "He was in his last year when I started at Oxford back in 1964, and we became good friends.  I haven't seen him for five years, and I..."
 
She stopped and a light blush diffused across her face.  She wasn't sure how to continue.  She didn't just want to say that Michael had rung her from Scotland and invited her up there, and she thought Michael would be very embarrassed if she did mention it.  She turned toward Michael and noticed he was still blushing, his eyes almost pleading her not to tell Jonesy the rest.
 
"...I just rang him up several weeks back, and was lucky enough to catch him at home.  He told me you were all filming up in Scotland, and we made plans to get together last night..."
 
Jonesy's brow knitted in confusion and he glanced at Michael, a slow realization coming to him. "So THAT's why you didn't want to go to the pub with us," he said slowly, finally understanding.
 
Michael gave him a half-smile and nodded.
 
"Mike, why didn't you ever tell me?  You're me best friend!" he continued, almost as if he were insulted.
 
Michael sighed. "I didn't tell anyone, Terry.  I just didn't think you'd understand," he confessed, averting his eyes.
 
"I don't follow," Jonesy said quietly, his eyes narrowed.
 
"I've been single for so long," Michael continued.  "You're all married or have some form of companionship...well, except for Eric, but he's a ladie's man, so he's always seeing someone," he grinned and rolled his eyes.
 
Jonesy grinned back and nodded in understanding.
 
"Anyway, I just didn't think you would believe me...poor old Michael, the perpetual bachelor, with a girl.  Reckoned you chaps would torment me for the rest of my life," he chuckled in spite of himself.
 
Terry chuckled, but in a light-hearted, friendly way.  "Mike, you've got us wrong.  Of course we would understand.  Hell, we'd be overjoyed!"
 
Michael stared at him.
 
"...well, after the tormenting, anyway," Jonesy finished wryly.
 
Michael rolled his eyes and swatted him. "And to think I had to put up with him all through Oxford, as well as these past 7 years?" he said, looking over at Lisa.  "I must be a glutton for punishment."
 
Lisa giggled.
 
"Oh, our little boy has a girlie!" he grinned widely as he grabbed Michael and pinched both his cheeks playfully.  Michael shot a pained expression in Lisa's direction.
 
"Oh, come on, leave him alone!" she admonished Jonesy.  
 
Jonesy giggled. "Sorry, but those cheeks are hard to resist, which you'll learn soon enough if you haven't already," he winked.
 
"Don't give her any ideas," Michael scolded him as he rubbed his cheeks.  He looked at Lisa with the pained expression once again and silently mouthed "ouch."
 
Lisa grinned.
 
Jonesy made his way over to her.  "So, you're...?" he started, raising his eyebrows.
 
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said hastily, smiling. "I'm Lisa Dobson."
 
Jonesy offered his hand to her and she shook it. "And I'm Terry Jones, as you learnt earlier.  It's nice to meet you, love."
 
"Only I get to call her 'love,'" Michael said flatly while giving Terry a deadly glare.
 
"Ooo, I'm so sorry, Mike!" he chided.
 
"Nice to meet you as well, Terry," Lisa giggled.
 
"Mike tells me that you're interested in watching us film," he answered, sobering up.
 
"Oh, yes," she answered, nodding vigorously.  "I've been in plays in school, but I've never been on a film set before.  Michael says that the film is based on the Arthurian legend, which I'm quite keen on as well."
 
"That's right, it's a historical...er, hysterical tour-de-farce," Jonesy answered cheekily. He suddenly glanced down at his watch. "And...oh my, it seems we'd better get out there," he muttered.
 
"I'll get my costume on," Michael said quickly as he picked up his costume bag and headed for the bathroom.
 
Jonesy turned back to Lisa. "So tell me.  Are you an actress of any sort?" he grinned.
 
Lisa raised an eyebrow curiously. "Well, I played some bit parts in secondary school productions, but nothing more.  I've always enjoyed acting, though."
 
Jonesy turned his eyes upward thoughtfully. "Hmm...well, actually, several of the Castle Anthrax girls have gone back to Glasgow..."
 
Lisa furrowed her brow in confusion. "The what?"
 
"Long story," Michael interjected as he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a medieval knight's costume and featuring a white tunic with a red cross on the front, and a suit of chain mail armor made of knitted wool.  He placed his clothes on the end of his bed, and made his way over to the mirror.  He ran a comb through his hair and replaced it on the end table. 
 
Jonesy rolled his eyes. "This is sort of a difficult, almost painful thing for Mike to talk about," he clarified to Lisa.  "All it does is bring back memories of Terry Gilliam and myself throwing water on him before each shot."
 
"Next time I shall think twice about writing a scene which takes place in a rainstorm," Michael said dryly.
 
Lisa giggled sympathetically and gave him a little hug.  She looked back at him and smiled at the dimples which started to peek out of the corners of his mouth.
 
"Anyway, you could be one of the Castle Anthrax girls," Jonesy went on.  "It doesn't require much, really.  All you need to do is lust after Mike...er, Galahad...and wail such things as 'he'll beat us easy!'"
 
Lisa raised her eyebrows.
 
"How does that strike you?" Jonesy asked.
 
"Lusting after him?  That suits me fine," Lisa grinned impishly.
 
Michael blushed nervously.
 
"Oh, what about a costume?" she asked suddenly.
 
"Not to worry," Jonesy shook his head.  "Hazel Pethig is bringing the costumes to Doune.  I'll introduce you to her and she'll get you fitted in your costume."
 
"Alright," she nodded.
 
Michael grabbed his car keys off of the dresser, waited for Jonesy and Lisa to exit and locked the door behind them. "We'll meet you there, Terry," he muttered.
 
Jonesy nodded.
 
"I can't believe Eric didn't tell you what happened," Mike said to himself, almost amused.
 
"What was that?" Jonesy asked, turning back toward Michael.
 
"Er...nothing..." Michael said carefully, blushing once again.
 
Jonesy looked at him bewilderingly for a few seconds and then shook his head before heading over to his rent-a-van.