The next morning, Sean was afraid to open his eyes. His head hurt. With some difficulty, he tried to recall the previous evening. Ah. He probably shouldn’t have gone straight to the nearest on-board bar once he had been escorted from the restaurant. He probably shouldn’t have drunk so much either. He probably shouldn’t have confided everything to the drunk Irishman at the bar¹. The guy seemed utterly insensible, but still Sean couldn’t resist a twinge of paranoia. What had he said exactly? Too late now. He most definitely shouldn’t have gone home via Claire’s quarters, hammered on the door, and shouted beseeching vows of lament for twenty minutes before urinating on their porch. Life was becoming a whole series of ‘if onlys’ for Sean, or at least, ‘if only I hadn’ts’. Which was worse, in a way. It meant the only opportunities he’d had were opportunities to make an idiot of himself – most of which he’d taken. With difficulty, he opened his eyes. Closed them again, because he had no choice. But something….. he opened his eyes again, for another brief second. His surroundings were unfamiliar…. quite nasty in fact. Disconcertingly so.

“What the?” murmured Sean.
“Don’t worry, gorgeous, it’ll work out I’m sure” said the enormous figure of a man who was gently stroking Sean’s head as it rested in his lap.

Unthinkingly, Sean snuggled briefly in the fold of the man’s plush stomach. Before sitting bolt upright.

“Who are you? Where….”
“As if you don’t know!” the man said, cheekily. “That was quite the performance last night!”

Suddenly wide awake, Sean urgently scanned his surroundings. He was in a small, box shaped room, with two narrow sleeping bunks, one of which he was sitting on, next to his new friend. The walls were plain, there was no kind of décor other than an off yellow paint job, and no apparent way out from the inside. It was almost like…. horrible, horrible memories were beginning to resurface.

Almost on cue, the door to the police cell slid open and a fresh faced uniformed young lad walked in carrying a breakfast tray. Well, Sean assumed it must be breakfast time – you wouldn’t strictly be able to tell by the jug of water and fresh crusty rolls that sat on it. He got unsteadily to his feet and approached the boy.

“What time is it??? Where am I?”
“Ah, we did have a jolly good evening last night, didn’t we sir.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, and a sarcastic one at that.

“Did we? I don’t think I did.” Sean replied.
“Well, sir, I’m sure, thanks to you, Mr… Miller didn’t have a very nice night either.”
“What?!”
“The plaintiff, sir, a Mr David Miller.”
“David Miller? But he’s my father in law!”
“Look we have a long list of public order offences to charge you with, Mr Oliveson, regardless of Mr Miller’s specific complaint, of which I’m sure you are aware…”

Sean was aware. The small but sarcastic police force on the Colony V took public order offences very seriously. Although…

“So, if you’re going to charge me, what about the baying mob outside the theatre?” “Right to protest sir, we can’t do a thing.”
“But throwing the fruit at me, that’s assault, surely?”
“Did you file a complaint?”
“Well, no.”

The junior constable regarded Sean in a deeply patronising manner.

“We can’t be everywhere, sir. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to continue….”
“Wait a minute, how long am I going to be here?”
“Oh, it shouldn’t be more than a day or so, just while we get the paperwork sorted.”
“A DAY?? But I have to… you have to let me out..”
“Unless someone can act as a reference for you sir, so we can make sure you won’t abscond?”
“Abscond?? From a spaceship?? In space??”
“Protocol, sir, rules are there to be followed.”
“But….” Sean gave up trying to understand. “A reference… I get to contact one person, right?”
“Uh, yes, sir, I believe you… erm… took up that option. Last night.”
“Do you remember who?”
“A Mr Maloney, I believe sir. Now if you excuse me I have to…”
“Oh god. What did I say to him?”
“Something about where to stick his robots, if I recall…”

Sean looked straight back at the officer. His chin wobbled slightly, and panic was in his eyes. He advanced towards the lad in desperate fashion. And grabbed him by the lapels.

“You have to let me contact someone! I have to get out of here!”
“Sir I must advise you that I’ll have to caution you with assaulting a police officer if you don’t..” “But society… the robots….my ass….”

Sean felt an arm around his shoulder pulling him away; a very strong arm.

“Come on Seany, baby, no use crying over spilt milk” an incredibly deep voice said. “Come here and let Uncle Magnus make it all better.”
“Oh god” Sean whimpered, as the copper hastily left the room.

Late that evening Claire approached the police station. Danny finally tipped her off, having come to the conclusion that Sean wasn’t going to make it out on his own. It interfered with the prime directive, but he was getting bored whilst his brother was inside – they’d already had to cancel one rehearsal. Claire was still furious with Sean, but not as angry as she was with her dad. She’d had no idea that David Miller had brought about her husband’s incarceration - nor would anyone in fact had Danny not been watching the whole episode. She had assumed he was just sulking, somewhere. Striding up to the front desk, Claire demanded to see Mr Oliveson, with a look in her eye and a tone of voice that dared anyone to stand in her way. No-one did. Another young constable led her to the interview room before scurrying to retrieve Sean from his cell.

As the police officer looked at the video screen showing the inside of the cell, he noticed that Sean was sat on Uncle Magnus’ lap, serenely sucking his thumb. It was with a tinge of regret that he opened the door and interrupted the scene.

“Mr Oliveson?”
At the presence of another person, Sean leapt from the man’s lap and arranged himself into a form somewhere approaching dignity.
“You have a visitor”
“Awwww, boo” said Magnus.
“I’ll write!” Sean called out, as he was led down the corridor.

Immediately on seeing his partner, Sean threw himself at her. Claire pushed him away.

“God, you stink!”
“I’m sorry,” he said pathetically. “about everything.”
“Sean….”
“Claire, I love you. But I’m scared. I’m so scared. It was horrible..” “I’m sorry too.” Claire said, holding him tight this time. Sorry for him.