Walking on Thin Ice: Chapter 14

Slowly and still slower, Eric pounced. Mike yelped and sat bolt upright, grabbing his foot as though a shark had nibbled it. Eric peeled off into strained laughter as Mike looked around for the culprit. The other five Pythons woke up slowly, groaning and cursing as they rolled around on the uncomfortable floor of the tiny cabin. The cabin had been rented so they'd have shelter when filming a particular winter woodland scene, but they had ended up giving up more of the time and falling asleep late the night before. John had curled up in a rather awkward pose behind Gil and was now putting as much space as he could between them. Mike stretched his aching shoulders and smiled sheepishly at the sleepy faces.

"Sorry," he muttered, pulling his shoulder into joint.

Eric giggled and ducked as Mike's hand was thrown haphazardly at his head, a sort of revenge on his waking everyone up. Pillows and blankets, even a shirt or two were hurled at Eric as he quickly retreated to the tiny bathroom.

Graham's head lifted from the floor at last, giving him a full view of the room above. It must have been several days since any of them had shaved, because not one of them wasn't going to leave without some form of stubble on their faces. Except maybe Eric, the man brought so many bathroom supplies Graham wouldn't have a hard time believing he kept tampons in there, just in case he found out he was a woman.

There were several grumbles as Mike threw open the cabin door and stepped out, stretching more and leaving the door open. Cold air blew into the blisteringly hot interior, but more than a few seconds chilled the people in the room, and yet the crazy man stood there, basking in the sunlight and wearing only a white undershirt and his rumbled jeans. Bare feet in the snow, fingers stretched to the sky; he looked very strange.

"Mike, have a heart!" John grumbled from his corner of the cabin, hair blowing wildly as a gust blew in.

He stepped in, face bright and suddenly awake. "Let's get going!"

There was a tremendous sigh from behind him and everyone stared as Terry dropped his head to his chest quite exasperatedly. "Mike, please!"

Pouting slightly, Mike tugged on his shirt, a dark green. Everyone began to get more dressed slowly. Everyone except Terry's wife Alison had forgotten to bring anything other than what they needed and the clothes on their back. Wrinkled clothes among them, they grumbled, aching and wishing they had just driven to a hotel. Alison bounced out of the bathroom, makeup on and hair done up beautifully already. Eric shot Terry an envious look as she skipped up to him and kissed him before jumping outside into the cold air like Mike had done. Terry smiled and began to tie up his shoes when an uncomfortable silence settled on the room.

John stifled a grin. "What? Don't you like my dress?"

There was appreciative laughter among them after the statement, and after Eric's contribution of, "It's not flattering, John, it makes you look a bit pudgy."

"Fat, even!" Gil added, ducking as a pillow was hurled in his general direction.

Alison stepped back in and closed the door. John tugged her arm, worry creasing his face. "Does this dress make me look fat?"

She gave him a worried glance and floated over to Terry's waiting arms for a protective hug.

Mike snickered evilly, looking at Terry. "Nah, John, Terry's the only one that looks fat in a dress."

"Ooh! BURN!" Eric danced around, clapping his hands.

The ride home was nearly as eventful as waking up that morning. The van was stuffy, and this time Mike had decided to hitch a ride home in the other van, with Eric, Graham, and John. Alison, Terry, and Gil had taken the other van before the final arrangements were made and they left. Mike kept nodding off on the way home and being rudely awakened by Eric, who continued to do something obnoxious like clapping his hands inches from Mike's ear to wake him up.

There was an urgent note in Eric's voice as he woke up Mike this time. "Hey, listen!"

"And there's a voice in my head, telling me to stop, and I know I can't. Maybe someday I will, but I know that now there's nothing you could do to stop me. Someone please...just help me stop myself." The radio's feed was suddenly there again, the cryptic message done.

Mike's face went sort of dark. "That sounded like Gemma,"

"I know! I was wondering if that was her-" Eric turned back to Graham and John, who were engaged in a game of rock paper scissors.

"It sounded like her; what could she be talking about?"

Eric shrugged and continued driving. "I dunno, but we're about twenty minutes from home..."

Mike glanced at his watch with a grimace. It was four o' clock and he knew they wouldn't be back in twenty minutes; Eric never was good at the estimation part of driving.

"That means about an hour," Gray told Mike as he examined his watch.

John snickered. "Maybe just add another twenty to that to be safe."

Mike, slightly puzzled, smiled. "Safe for what?"

Gray and John exchanged looks before looking back at him. "Well, obviously, you've been separated from her for too long, you'll need to call her when we stop up here in Bristol to tell her you're on your way."

Up front, Eric guffawed and turned out the window to hide his enormous grin.

Mike blushed hotly. "You guys are over-reacting!"

Eric snickered and mumbled something in the window. John, who was on that side of the van, caught the message and laughed loudly.

"What was that?" Mike's voice had gone a very dangerous tone of anger.

A light shade of pink, Eric replied, "I said that you had said the same thing about Helen."

Mike considered this, remembering those exact words. It had gone something along the line of Eric teasing Mike that he wasn't getting enough time at home when he had really been staying to write the least amount of time he felt guilty doing, and even that wasn't enough. They often disappeared for weekends, and when he had been forced to leave for a weekend to do a show in which Helen could not come, he had gone crazy all weekend. On the ride home, he had checked his watch no less than a million times, and they had teased him the same way, Terry and his mates. When Terry relayed this story to Eric during a "Do Not Adjust Your Set" writing session in hopes of turning it into a sketch, Mike had insisted that they were over-reacting. Seconds later Helen called and Mike had fled the room faster than the time he'd set his shoelace on fire.

A full forty minutes of near-silence later Eric made a vicious turn and stopped outside Gemma's house where the candy-apple red car sat, tranquil and untouchable. Mike grinned sheepishly at Eric.

"What are you doing?"

Eric nodded his head. "Given five minutes at home, this is the first place you'd go. Your neighbor's watching your dog, go on in!"

Shaking his head, Mike shrank from the door. "No, Eric. I look like a monster, I can't go in there like this!"

Gray chuckled lightly. "Since when have you cared abot what you look like?"

Mike ran a hand over the stubble on his face and glanced down at his filthy and wrinkled clothes. "Ooh, right about now."

Eric rolled his eyes.

Inside, Gemma sat and stared at Zilla, wondering who would be first to blink. There was a curious noise outside and a shout. Gemma pulled back her blinds and stared as a figure was hurled from the side of a van into her tiny patch of snow. The figure leapt up and tried to scramble back in the car but was thrown back again by three figures inside the van. The door slid shut, the van sped away, and the wrinkled and worn looking figure stood, looking forlorn and worried.

Gemma seized her coat and slipped on some sandals before walking out to see if the man needed any help. The van was coming around again, and Gemma had a feeling this was no sinister act. She recognized the man from behind, his shirt untucked and dangling around his belt loops loosely, now wet and dirty. He shook a fist at the passing van and jumped when Gemma caught his face.

"Hey, Michael," she grinned, leaning down to see his face. The van screeched to a halt and backed up as Mike quickly leaned his face away from Gemma to avoid her seeing his horrid appearance.

He held his hand out, catching Gemma's shoulder. "Don't!"

She took his wrist. "What's wrong?" The window rolled down, a few feet from Gemma's left side.

Mike threw a hard glare at the grinning figures in the window. "Hey! Give me a ride HOME!"

Eric rolled his eyes. "Saving myself some gas, mate! I'd be giving you a ride here anyway!"

They cackled evilly and sped off, leaving Mike standing next to Gemma, his face turned down in mild shame with his clothes making him look like he'd crawled off the street.

Keys jangled somewhere to his right. "Need a ride?"

He looked up and into her eyes for the first time and felt his face split into a sheepish grin, her face pleasantly sleepy like his. Suddenly he remembered that he hadn't had a shower nor a shave in about three days and jerked his head away.

"Yeah,"

Gemma snickered softly. "If it's any help, check out this," she turned around completely, giving Mike a look at her plaid pajama pants, rat's nest hair style, and sandals. Her t-shirt was hanging off one shoulder completely, and the word "Whittaker" was printed across it like a jersey, the number 19 under the letters. When she turned around he noted that the front claimed the jersey was for cricket. He stared at the black and orange lettering, not letting his eyes go anywhere near hers in fear of seeing mocking there.

Her hand lifted up slowly, and ran along his cheek, catching on the hair that had grown so predictably while Mike had been sleeping. She smiled and sighed, pulling her hand up in a mock pretty-girl pose, next to her face. "Oh, I knew you were just SO rugged!"

He laughed, jerking his head away again, hiding the blush that was fighting to surface. Embarrassed, upset? Sure, we'll flood your face with blood so even a small child can figure it out. Take that! Your body likes to play tricks on you! Trapped in his own little world for a moment, he hadn't noticed that Gemma had taken it upon herself to fix Mike's collar, which hadn't survived his many naps on the way home.

"Thanks, Mum." He said in a shy voice, shuffling his feet. Gemma snickered and stepped back, admiring how she had slightly improved the grungy man before her.

The best part was, he made five o' clock shadow look good. She couldn't understand why he was suddenly so shy and didn't want her to look at his face. Honestly, she could only see one problem and that was the unavoidable concept that he had slept in the clothes he was wearing and hadn't had a chance to change because his friends enjoyed teasing him to some extent. She walked over to her car and slid in, waiting patiently while Mike floated rather slowly into the other side, eyes so lax and unassuming she was almost certain he was asleep.

She gave him the ride home and was rather sheepishly invited in for a moment. Mike quickly kicked chew toys and other things under couches and near walls so they wouldn't be stepped on, making sure he hadn't left anything in the house that would bring him more embarrassment. He looked at his watch and noted that Gemma was staring over his shoulder.

"What?" He turned around.

She giggled. "Mind if I help?" She walked in and picked up a plate from his kitchen counter.

Fighting the blush, Mike shook his head. "Naw, I'll do that later. In fact, if you don't mind picking up the dog from my upstairs neighbor and taking him for a fifteen minute walk...you'll come back in and discover a changed man."

Still smiling, Gemma replaced the plate. "Alright, fine. Upstairs?"

"First door on your right is Mrs. Guffry, she's got the mongrel." He nodded, eager for her to leave so he could get out of the filthy clothes.

She stood up on her tip-toes and placed a kiss on his cheek, in need of shaving or not, before walking out the side door to the stairwell. As soon as the door closed, Mike turned into a whirlwind. He stripped out of the clothes he was wearing and hopped into the small shower, reminding himself that his room was also in need of some severe picking up. Approximately six minutes later he jumped out of the shower and got dressed in some clean clothes before savagely attacking his room and kitchen. Fifteen minutes was up, and he was moving very fast. Vacuum around all the furniture, done. He was almost done now. The apartment was going to be much cleaner than it had been in months, and he was still flitting around. With some sort of remorse, Mike leapt back into his steamy bathroom and finished with all his daily grooming rituals. Shaving, brushing teeth, though he ignored his steadily drying hair.

The door behind him opened and Gemma walked in with Boxer, who was panting so heavily that Mike considered she had just chased him down in a car. She was panting as well; they had obviously raced home.

Gemma whistled softly. "What a transformation," she smiled, running her hand along the kitchen counter.

Finally done, Mike stepped out of the hallway and grinned. "Close, anyway."

Gemma turned and spied Mike, hair wet and hanging even more annoyingly in his eyes, covering up most of his face to hide his many expressions. Rather suddenly, Mike shook his head violently, smiling as he felt his hair fly out in every direction, probably spraying water everywhere. Gemma yelped in surprise and ducked the tiny water droplets, trying to avoid the inevitable.

She stood up. "That was cruel,"

Mike shrugged and stepped into the kitchen, bending to pet his dog. "I'm just a nasty guy, I guess."

The dog was suddenly energetic again, and refused to be deterred by Mike's constant movement. Boxer whined pitifully, licking Mike's hands over and over again while he pet the dog, rolling his eyes as the dog tried to get to his face again. Gemma sat down on the tile floor and began to pet the animal too, a silence settling over them pleasantly.

"You have fun?" She asked after a few moments.

Mike snorted. "Yes, I suppose. We filmed, yelled, avoided wild animals, and slept on the floor of a two room cabin."

Gemma giggled. "A regular party,"

"Not quite,"

She rolled her eyes; he was being very ambiguous. "And who was missing, eh?"

He looked up, amusement on his face. "Shall I be sappy now or later?"

Batting her eyes softly, Gemma replied, "Get your kicks in while you can, Palin."

"I missed you,"

Not quite able to tell if he was being serious or not, Gemma turned away, smiling slightly. "How sweet."

Mike smiled gently and turned his head away, able to avoid bursting into heavy laughter while Gemma battled out his statement.

"What will you do when I have to leave for an entire week, hm?" She asked suddenly, turning the tables.

He managed to screw his face up before she noticed the horror passing over the empty look on his face. "Noooooo!"

She smiled. "Quite the reaction,"

"Where will you be for an entire week?" He asked, frowning. She was a paramedic, after all.

She shrugged gently. "Well, I'll really be gone for two weeks these next two months. Seminar for paramedics in Moscow, and I have a week off that I might take advantage of from the fifteenth of December to the twenty-second."

Mike mentally calculated. "You'd be leaving in a week, for an entire week..."

"Indeed,"

He snorted at her vocabulary before continuing. "Where are you going?"

Time stopped mentally for Gemma. This was a huge thing to ask him, after two and a half months of seeing him romantically. It wasn't anything silly either, it was just a little trip, right? International trip in which she could have him all to herself.

"What are you doing that week?" She countered.

He smiled. "Nothing, the season ends tomorrow and I have until the new year to do nothing at all."

Things were falling into place evenly. "Up for a ski trip then?"

His jaw dropped. "Me? Ski?" He laughed lightly, relieved he could brush it off.

"I'll teach you! It would be so much fun, Michael!" She took his arm and bounced excitedly.

Mike frowned uncertainly. "Where are you planning on doing this?"

She shrugged. "I've got friends that own a ski resort that gave me free season passes for their ranch in Vermont. So that's where'd we be going."

"Vermont? America?" He gaped.

She nodded, rolling her eyes as he stared. "It's practically free; if it helps, think of it as an early Christmas present."

He squirmed. "You really want to take me? I'll only get in the way!"

"It's you or Noah, and I'd rather spend my week off with you, trust me." She was literally bouncing apart.

Mike's heart was thudding somewhere inside his body, but he was too caught up in his own thoughts to notice it had sped up considerably. "Just us? Where-what?"

Seeming to understand the question, Gemma replied, "They have these four bedroom suite things you sign up for, we'll share with another couple probably. Four bedrooms, four people."

Thinking seriously now, Mike began to get excited. A week out in Vermont, with Gemma, and he'd be back in time to meet up with his family for Christmas, maybe even to avoid being missed by Terry who would most likely stop by sometime. It sounded perfect, wonderful. The only thing stopping him from jumping up and down with a grin on his face was the fact that he'd be alone with her for an entire week. Maybe not completely alone, but without anyone there they knew personally.

"Awfully expensive, isn't it?" He heard himself ask.

Gemma shook her head. "Rental skis are all we've got to worry about. And food, but the rest is fairly cheap and or paid for."

"I dunno, it sounds great and all but-"

"You're worried that your little friends are going to tease you. Or we'll be," she gasped theatrically. "Alone together! Newsflash for you; this is just like an extended date. You're not obligated to drive me home, and I'm paying, that's the only difference."

That was settled then. "Alright, I'm in."

Gemma clapped and threw her arms around Mike's neck, smiling. He hugged her back and couldn't help but think that is was going to be the most fun he'd had in a long time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Terry had made the final arrangements with the director and was about to let everyone go when he caught Mike talking in hushed tones to Graham.

"So you can watch him for an entire week? Because if you can't I can always drop him off with me parents-" Mike was about to trust Gray with his dog for an entire week, which was almost a blessing unto itself.

Stepping in, Terry cleared his throat. "An entire week? Where you off to?"

Avoiding the question carefully, Mike looked up. "Vacation, that's all. Aren't you going to Sweden to visit Alison's parents?"

Terry nodded. "Yeah, we are." He rolled his eyes and made stabbing motions. "I'll be dead by Christmas."

From the corner, Eric laughed. "Not as dead as Mike! What did Gemma end up doing when she realized it was you on her lawn?"

Mike shrugged nonchalantly. "She gave me a ride home and let me get my flat all cleaned up before she came in with Boxer and such."

"Could she be any more perfect?" Gray wrinkled his nose.

Mike sighed. "What could I say that would satiate you guys?"

John regarded this carefully for a moment. "Well, you could tell us something that she's done that isn't just pefect in every little way for once."

"Tried to throw a fork at a guy, beat the crap out of me wrestling, is the most sarcastic politcal rant I've heard, ever-" He started listing.

Standing up, Eric made a quiet gesture while Terry fought giggles. "Hold the phone! She beat the crap out of you doing what?"

"Got in a scuffle, she got me in a headlock." Mike was clearly not aware of what that meant to his friends.

John shook his head. "Until I see her actually touch you in public I'm going to have to doubt that one."

"What are you talking about?" Mike asked.

Smiling broadly, Eric retorted, "Usually you don't feel comfortable wrestling with someone unless you're really comfortable with the person, in the case of dating. This could just mean something like-"

Mike shook his head sharply, irritated. "I don't know WHY I listen to you guys anymore."

Slightly irritated as well, Eric sighed and stood up. "Well, I'm sick of being Doctor Love, I'm going to go get PISS drunk; who's with me?"

There was a collective cheer among them as they headed out to The Wave for another evening of fun. Mike tried calling Gemma twice, but she didn't pick up. Whatever had caused her to suddenly skip out must have been important, but he couldn't shake the feeling she was somewhere he should know where she'd be.

Gemma was standing about twenty feet behind Mike, working the bar with Noah at her side. He had a frown on his face fit to give him wrinkles, and he was doing all he could not to stalk off and tell Doug over the phone that his little sister-his favorite sister-was about to drag her boyfriend off to Vermont with her.

She rolled her eyes. "Noah, calm down! We're both responsible adults, right? I think we can handle a trip to Vermont."

Looking on doubtfully, Noah replied, "Still, Gemma, I can't help but think that maybe you're going to end up in a situation you're not sure about-" He was trying very hard to avoid any words to give him away.

"Like what? A romantic evening out that could lead to, OH MY GOD-" People stared at her as she yelled. "SEX? Gasp, Gemma can't figure out that she's already made that mistake once and she should really think it through, right?"

Noah nodded, his face all bent out of shape from his horror. "I'm just saying, what if it's not a mutual thing?"

Gemma sighed, exasperated. "As my mother once said; 'Love is like a puzzle. You find someone you love, be yourself, find someone that loves you back, and then make sure you can both stay in love. Finding that perfect guy is like trying all the pieces in the puzzle box into the same piece until it fits.' Sex is just a part of that, Noah. I'm not the most angelic of all the little angels, but I'm bright enough to know that unless he's all gold and silver I'm not going to let him touch me."

Her cousin seemed heartily satisfied with her reply. "Well, if I was the judge, you'd be a happily unmarried wench."

"No one good enough for your precious little cousin?" She wrinkled her nose.

He laughed and looked up. "Exactly." Turning to hand a tall man his drink, he noticed the man staring intently at Gemma. She looked up at him and tilted her head.

The man extended his hand. "Hey, it's John." He squinted a bit to show he wasn't sure if she'd recognize him.

"Where?!" She whipped her head around, looking for this "John" person.

"He's over at that table, and so is Mike." John replied, smiling as Gemma's neck craned to better see her boyfriend, presently slouched over the table, his now perfectly able wrists working their magic in giving Eric one hell of a noogie.

Noah scowled at Mike, unpleasant ideas flowing through his head. The man could be a creep, he really could, though Gemma really seemed to like him and he didn't seem too touchy feely or obnoxious. His friends were another story; the long haired one that continually laughed and poked at Mike was rather annoying looking, though his humor was understandable. One just sat and drank, occasionally laughing at a particularly funny joke. The others were run-of-the-mill guys, maybe just a little out of Noah's taste for friends.

"I'm taking a break, boss." Gemma handed Noah her waitress's belt, complete with order notepad, pen, change pocket, and tips pocket. Noah hung it on the rack and watched carefully to see how Mike would react to his lady being presented to his friends. Most guys would show off or hide her. Mike did neither.

Gemma tapped Mike on the shoulder and swooped down so her chin was resting on his shoulder. "How you doing?"

He jumped slightly, though his face split into a wide grin as he realized it was her. "Fine, how about you?"

She grinned and hugged him gently before pulling up an empty chair. "I'm alright, just a little mad at the ol' cousin." Pointing over her shoulder at the staring Noah, Gemma sighed.

Mike glanced up and noticed that Noah was giving him a hard stare. "Sheesh, does he think I'm going to rob you?"

"No, just hold hands and break the flesh barrier," Eric quipped, glancing away as Mike threw him a glare.

Gemma rolled her eyes. "Worse than my brother, at least he trusted me."

John was smiling slightly at Mike as he sat there, sipping liquor with Gemma off to his left side. A little confused, Mike raised an eyebrow to show his uncertainty. John mimed the hug and gave him a thumbs up, then frowned and gave him a thumbs down for not kissing her. Mike sighed and glanced at Gemma, wrapped up in a conversation with Eric, who was nursing a long scratch on his arm from Zilla.

"So it wasn't just me? The cat hates all men?" He checked.

She nodded. "Yeah, except Michael, but he told me he was a woman so it's a solved mystery." She replied, picking up a full glass of whiskey. She smelled it to check the brand and potency before impressing all the guys with a quick toss of her head. With a painful swallow, she opened her eyes and let the alcohol take its effect on her. It wasn't immediate, just a little warping as everything got louder and dulled around the edges. She wasn't impaired by one shot of whiskey though, just a little strange.

Eric snapped his fingers. "Hey, we heard you on the radio! I think it was you anyway, you were saying this weird poem prose-y thing; I'm not sure what it was-"

"Don't know what you are talking about," she cut him off, hiccupping once.

Mike, having never seen her drink before, expected her to vomit right there on the floor, but she held her stomach and grinned at him like she knew what he was thinking. He smiled back and was suddenly wrapped up in the way she was there and everyone else had gone and disappeared from his side-vision. Eric wasn't smiling at him as he stared longingly into Gemma's eyes, and John was most definitely not sitting there with his fists clenched like he was going to win a million pounds if their lips met. Predictable, Mike leaned forward and snatched a light kiss from Gemma's waiting lips, relishing every second they were connected. A roar went up along the table, ignored by both participating parties. When they pulled apart, Noah was at Gemma's side again, the apron held out with a scowl.

"You need to get back to work; no more drinking and or kissing on the job, alright?" He shoved the material into her hands and walked away, not waiting for an answer. Gemma, rather defiant, took a swig from Eric's beer bottle and kissed Mike's cheek before leaping up and innocently staring at her cousin. The guys all snickered as she tied the bar apron around her waist and went back to work.

John's hand clapped on Mike's shoulder, startling him as he realized he'd been staring at Gemma working for the past ten minutes.

"Way to go, chap, you really got her perfect. Never seen such a perfect execution," he praised.

Mike blushed and sat up a little taller. "Sometimes you just get caught up in her; that's all that happened."

There was a longing sigh to Mike's left where Eric was sitting. "Hell, I'd like to see those g'night kisses you talk about; they must be off-the-wall toe-curling great if that's what we got in a club!"

Rolling his eyes, Mike downed the last of his drink and excused himself from the table to go discuss their trip with Gemma.

He walked up and sat at the bar directly across from her, watching as she turned and leaned over the counter so her face was closer, to hear him over the music.

"Got everything all worked out; need to be back by Christmas Eve, that's the only restriction." He smiled at her, not quite wanting to tell her that he hadn't exactly explained it to his friends.

She looked at the staring hordes behind him, all watching their conversation closely. "Sounds perfect. We'll leave the fifteenth, I'll pick you up. Where are you going to be?"

He calculated before answering, "The Beeb, working in the back room on the last few shots. That'll be almost all day, maybe a lunch break-"

Gemma nodded, mentally noting this. "I'll be there about one so we'll have time to load up me itty bitty car and get to the airport on time."

Both began to grow excited about the upcoming trip, wondering what adventures it held, what little romances. "Excellent," Mike's eyes glittered happily. "I can't wait."

"I'm so happy you're coming! Made my year-" She wanted to slide across the counter and hug him tight, just to show him how happy he'd made her.

"You've made mine too," he smiled, knowing she was either going to kick him in the shin somehow or blush and try not to look too embarrassed. She chose the latter and tried to pull away, but Mike took the braid hanging over her shoulder and pulled her into another kiss before winking and walking back to his table.