10x01 - Reunion Special: Part 1

[bunniefuu]

♪ You must remember this ♪

♪ a kiss is still a kiss ♪

♪ a sigh is just a sigh ♪

♪ the fundamental things apply ♪

♪ as time goes by ♪

[ Music fades... ]

[ Doorbell rings ]

Good morning.
Name of Hardcastle?

That’s right.

Ignore his face--
he’s got the hump.

I got a perfect right
to have the hump.

Not on duty you haven’t.

Having the hump on duty
is unprofessional.

Now smile.

You can look at his face now
if you like.

I think I preferred him
with the hump.

All over a bag
of toffees.

Chocolate raisins!

Toffees!

Did you come here
specifically to have a row,

or did you want something?

Sorry.
Name of Hardcastle?

We’ve established that.

So we did.

Delivery for you.
Cots.

Cots?

Cots.

For babies?

I think you’ve got
the wrong address.

You claimed your name
was Hardcastle.

I did not claim anything.
It is.

So where do you want
the cots?

Jean!

She’ll know--

women always know
where to put things.

If you were a woman,

you’d never have put that bag
of toffees on my seat.

They were
chocolate raisins.

What’s going on?

We’re having a fascinating
debate about toffees.

Chocolate
raisins.

Or chocolate raisins,

which seems to have
obscured the fact

that they’re
also insisting

on delivering
two baby’s cots.

Oh, I see.

Now, come on, be honest.

Was it toffees or
chocolate raisins?

Toffees.
Chocolate raisins.

Chocolate raisins.

That’s that settled.

The cots go upstairs.

Follow me.

[ Mobile playing nursery music ]

Oh, aren’t they sweet?

There’s nobody there.

The cots!

Yes, they’re very nice.

I saw them, I just
couldn’t resist them.

What are they for?

Well, babies, of course.

Whose babies?

Judy and Sandy’s babies.

I didn’t even know
they were pregnant.

Well, they’re not,
as far as I know,
but they will be.

It stands to reason.

Your reason presumably?
Yes.

Well, assuming you’re right,

why have we got two cots
here already?

Oh, Lionel, do be sensible.

For when they want us
to look after the babies.

Ah. Have you got their names
down for a school yet?

I do wish you’d stop
doing that.

Don’t you want
grandchildren?

Not imaginary ones, no.

I’m not sure.

Of course you do.

I just said I wasn’t sure.

This wallpaper’s not right.

What’s wallpaper
got to do with it?

It’s too stern for babies.

Stern?

Babies like
something colorful.

The curtains are rather
frightening too.

I think I’ll have
a custard tart.

[ Nursery music plays
in his dream... ]

[ Music becomes distorted... ]

[ Gasping... ]

Oh, I wish you
wouldn’t do that.

Oh... I was having
a nightmare.

Too many custard tarts.

What was it about?

Ba...

Bay leaves.

How on earth can you have a
nightmare about bay leaves?

Well, I was one.

You were actually
a bay leaf?

Yes.

I was in this casserole,
you see, cooking away,

and I didn’t like the onions.

A bay leaf with emotions.

It was a nightmare.

It’s unbelievable,
isn’t it?

Yes, it is.

You were going to say
"babies," weren’t you?

All right, yes.

Now, what in heaven’s name can
be nightmarish about babies?

When they multiply.

Oh, honestly!

Anyway, they wouldn’t be
just any old babies.

They’d be our grandchildren.
They’d be part of us.

In case you’ve forgotten,

Judy’s not my daughter and
Sandy’s not our daughter.

Well, she’s become
like a daughter.

She and Harry come back
from Canada tomorrow.

I have missed her.

Mm, so have I.

So, how many babies
have they had

in the year,
do you suppose?

This is for the future,
and for Judy and Alistair.

Hence the cots and
the non-frightening curtains.

Well, they’ll want us

to look after them
sometimes, won’t they?

Unless you’re
refusing to do it.

Now you’re talking
in the present tense.

There aren’t any babies.

They might not even
want babies.

You can be really depressing
when you put your mind to it.

I don’t mean to be.

No, I know.

I still think
we should have

picked up Harry and Sandy
from the airport.

No, it’s best
Alistair does it.

He has a way with airports,

like parking right
outside the terminal.

Why can’t you do
things like that?

I’m gifted in other areas.

Shall we go back
to sleep now?

[ Chuckling ]: Yes.

Good night.

Good night.

Grandad.

Ohh! Oh!

What is it?

I was having a nightmare.

I was a carrot
in your casserole.

So, uh...

How was Canada, you guys?

Nice.

Alistair: Harry?

Very good.

It’s really lovely
to see you both again.

You too.

Yes.

So, uh... did you get
to see the Rockies?

Oh, yes.

They must be fantastic.

Oh, they are.

Still... it must be good
to be home again, though.

Yes.

Very good.

[ Doorbell rings ]

Come on, they’re here!

I’m coming, I’m coming.

Sandy!

Hello.

Oh... Harry!

Hello.

Sandy...
How’s my old married lady?

Harry, how are you?

Fine.

[ Sobbing... ]

Tired from the journey,
I expect.

Well... come on in.

[ Sobbing... ]

[ Sobs again ]

[ Knocking on the door ]

Go away!

Sorry, I thought
it was Harry.

He thinks you’re tired
from the journey.

Does he really?

Oh, Sandy,
what’s the matter?

It’s Harry.

It was all so lovely...

And now he’s decided
to k*ll himself!

Armed response?

Yes.

That’s g*ns, isn’t it?

Well, obviously...
Look, nothing’s finalized,

but I want to get
on the fast track

and volunteering for this
could be a way of doing it.

Well, no wonder
Sandy’s upset.

I would be upset

if Alistair wanted to do
something dangerous...

Not at he would.

Publishing isn’t the safest
profession, you know.

Well, you don’t get
sh*t doing it.

All publishers make enemies.

Oh, Alistair.

But I keep telling Sandy

I’m after a promotion,
not getting sh*t.

I just need to get on.

You see, I’ve got
this Russian author

with a really nasty temper.

Now, if I were to tell him
that his next book

isn’t exactly going to
light up red square...

Yeah, well,
the most he’ll do

is throw a bowl
of borscht at you.

Now, when did you
tell Sandy this?

Not long before
we came home.

Oh, dear.

He could be in the Russian
mafia for all I know.

Mm, nasty.

Could be, Harry...

Could be.

Alistair, stop posturing.

You sure you’ve got
the right word?

Positive. What Harry’s
talking about is real danger.

Lionel?
What?

What do you think?

Well, it’s not my life.

To put at risk, you mean?

No, I mean it’s not my life.

It’s not my career and, let’s
face it, being a policeman

isn’t the safest job in
the world in the first place.

That’s what I said to Sandy.

Oh, how very reassuring.

Look, give the guy