(This is a fic I wrote when I was told it had to include Simon, Dillon, mentioning Simon's hair but not Dillon's, a house boat in North somewhere or another and Trifle)
“Oh. My. God. Simon, your hair.” Dillon gasped as he awoke in his new bed to see Simon standing a few feet away, making tea and acting as if everything was perfectly normal and like they weren’t both standing on a boat, freezing to death, as if his hair wasn’t bright blue and as if their wasn’t a strange smell of trifle hanging about.
“What?” Simon asked as he moved to stand in front of the mirror that hung conveniently on the front of one of the cupboard doors. “What is it?”
“It’s so… blue!” Dillon stammered and Simon looked at him gone out.
“I know that Dillon, don’t you remember last night at all?” Simon laughed as Dillon took in the surroundings around him. He jumped out of bed in his boxers in surprise to see the fact that he was on a moving houseboat in some very, very cold part of the country. He grabbed the blanket and wrapped it quickly around himself in an attempt to keep warm.
“Where the hell are we?” He shivered as Simon passed him a cup of steaming tea, which smelled strangely like… Trifle! Dillon shook himself as he took a sip of the scolding tea and tried not to think of trifle.
“You really can’t remember can you?” Simon laughed.
“Can’t remember what?” Dillon snapped. He looked at Simon’s laughing face and suddenly felt nervous of what might have happened to him, seeing as how Simon’s hair was blue. What could possibly be wrong with him? Was he really that drunk? Dillon lunged forward to tried and grab the mirror that Simon was gazing into but Simon pulled it away quickly. “Is there anything wrong with my h-“ “Shhh!” Simon shouted fiercely as he clamped his hand to his mouth. “No mentioning the H word, got it?” He whispered viciously as he took his hand away from his mouth.
“Why can’t I mention my ha-“
“Shhh!” Simon insisted once again as he hit Dillon around the head, spilling his tea in the process. “What was that for?” He asked in confusion, rubbing the side of his head.
“Do you really want to bring a big curse on us?”
“Curse, what? No… of course I don’t… I…” He stuttered, having no idea what Simon had just meant or how he was supposed to reply to it.
“Oh god. I’m going to have to explain everything, aren’t I?” Simon muttered.
“It would help.” Dillon said with heavy sarcasm.
“Let’s start at the very beginning…”
“A very good place to start.”
“Don’t, or I’ll start do-a-dearing.” Simon laughed while Dillon, having never seen the sound of music, shot him a worried glance. “It was once cold January night and two best friends were staggering home from the pub when-“
“Aww! I’m your best friend?” Dillon asked happily.
“No idiot! I’m talking about me and stone face! You aren’t in the story yet.” Dillon gave a sigh of disappointment but motioned for Simon to carry on with his story. “Well, like I was saying. Stone face and me were walking home from a long night at the pub, totally the wrong side of sober and we decided that we would pop into this old abandoned houseboat for a bit of… you know…” He winked at Dillon, who nearly spat his tea all over Simon at the very idea, had the man gone mad?
“You and Lara?” He said in a distinctly mocking tone.
“Yes! Me and Lara! Why is that so hard to understand?” Dillon gave him an innocent look and he dropped the subject, shaking his head in disgust. “Anyway as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted. Once Lara and me were inside this rickety old boat we found that we weren’t alone. Queue spooky music. It was in fact… dun dun duh…. You and Roxy! Gave us quite a fright, I can tell you! Honestly, you and Roxy, who’d have-“
“Me and Roxy?”
“What are you, a damn echo? Yes! You and Roxy. God! You must have been pretty drunk not to remember any of this; it’s not every day that you get off with a fit young nurse. Well, it may be every day for me but for you I’m sure it’s pretty rare.”
“Simon?”
“Yeh?”
“Shut the hell up and get on with the story.”
“Fine, fine. Where was I? Oh yes, we were on this boat and we realised that as we were all here we weren’t going to be getting any action so, being very drunk at the time, the best thing we could think of doing was driving the boat somewhere far away from Holby. Like I said, we were very drunk but Lara said she’d done this before and so we went along with it. Anyway, to cut a long story short we were just starting the engine up when out of nowhere this old woman appeared. She clamed that it was her boat but said that now we were on her boat we had to drive it which I thought was highly weird. She said that she hadn’t been able to drive the boat since her arthritis got bad in her wrists and now she wanted us to drive this boat up to France and deliver some message to her sister. There were a few rules as well.”
“What were they?”
“Right, one was that she was going to keep Lara and Roxy there with her as kind of a ransom, if you will, so that she knew we weren’t just going to leave and never come back. The second one was that she really has a thing about blondes, she hates them, especially bottle blondes like your good self and she decided that if you (or anyone else) ever mentioned your… unmentionables then the curse of the trifle would be on you.” Dillon tried to control himself but burst out laughing a few seconds after Simon had finished speaking. It was just so stupid that it was funny.
“Is that all you are worried about?”
“Dillon, this is very serious. As we speak there is a very large but invisible trifle hanging over your head just read to fall at the moment that you mention your unmentionables covering you from head to foot in smelly but invisible trifle which, believe me, does not make you popular with the ladies.” Dillon swallowed hard, had Simon completely lost his marbles? That seemed to be the only possible answer but somehow Dillon found himself believing Simon and all the strange things he was saying, plus there was that strange smell around here. Like… Trifle really
“So what happened after that.”
“Well, she stared the engine and just set us off, I must have fallen asleep because here we are now.”
“Where are we? France?”
“Erm… No. I’m guessing from the surroundings we’re somewhere between Canada and Nova Scotia.”
“Oh dear. Well come on, let’s get to France so we can then go back home, this boat is freezing. You never did explain why you had blue hair by the way.”
“Blame Lara and the availability of cheap hair dye in chemists.” Simon muttered. “And about this France thing…”
“Yes?” He snapped.
“Do you want to drive the boat?”
“I cant! I haven’t even passed my driving test yet.”
“In that case we may have a slight problem…”
“Can’t you drive in either?” Dillon winced.
“No.” He said almost silently. “On the count of three? One, two, three:”
“HELP!”