GobSmacked82

Hi Shippers,
Here is the second part of 'Let's Have Paris.' I meant to wrap it up with this one, but as I started writing the main plot point, I realized there was no neat, concise way to end it here. So, sorry to have to tell you this, but there will be another—and final—installment.

Whitney and Kevin cross a back room to passage, which leads to a stairway. They go upstairs and Kevin tosses the book and newspaper on a table. They start making out, like kids in their 20s. Kevin, for some reason, backs off of Whitney. He pinches the very top of his nose, between his eyes.

WH: What's the matter?

KC: Nothing. Nothing, and I'm fine. (he holds her tighter) You look beautiful. Man, I've missed you.

WH: Me too. Always.

They start making out again, but this time Kevin pulls away for good that day. He staggers backward and blinks hard.

KC: ****.

WH: Wait! Kevin! (Whitney grabs him and stops him from falling. They stagger over to a chair together, where Whitney helps him to sit down.) What’s happening, Kevin?!

KC can hardly speak. He leans forward, leans his elbows on his knees, and covers face. Then he darts for the bathroom and slams the door, locking Whitney out.

WH: Hey, Kevin! Open the door. What’s going on?!

The sound of puking comes from the bathroom. Whitney scrambles around the room for a key. Minutes later, she hears water running, and then it stops. Then Kevin comes out of the bathroom.

WH: What was that?

KC: I think it was breakfast. Weird. That has never happened to me before this.

WH: Well, how do you feel now?

KC: (Nods his head) A little better, actually. Whew. That was weird.

WH: Well, should I take it personally? (She comes closer and puts her arms around his waist.)

KC: No. Never.

Kevin gets another weird look on his face, blanches, then pushes Whitney away. Five minutes later, Whitney is helping him into bed. He is really sick.

WH: We should call someone. Do you know any doctors in Paris?

KC: I can’t even think. This room looks like one of Willy Wonka’s crazy outfits. Uuugh! Look, call my pal Henri downstairs. Tell him what’s going on. He’ll call someone and then you get going back to Krissie.

WH: No. I’m not leaving until you’re in good hands.

KC: Whitney, the last thing you want is for some British reporter to get wind of this. They’re all over the admned place. You and me caught in a love nest … KC bolts up, out of the bed and heads for the bathroom.

WH: I’ll be right back, Kevin!

Whitney dashes downstairs and asks for Henri. In decent French, she explains the situation and gets the guy to call for a nurse. Then she shoves a small stack of Euros in his hand for discretion. She returns to the apartment, wringing her hands on her way up the stairs and mumbling to herself. Before she opens the door, she runs her hands through her hair and tells herself to be cool. Then she checks her watch. She opens the door.

WH: Kevin. Where are you? (She walks through the apartment all the way to the back, where the bathroom and bedroom. Kevin is laying in bed, pressing a cold towel to his face. ) Oh, you poor man! She sits next to him, and he groans loudly.

WH: I can make you tea. This place must be stocked with something. Maybe mint. Chamomile?

KC: (Groans)

WH: I asked Henri to call a nurse, and to be discreet about it. Hopefully, he’ll send someone soon. Poor Kevin. You’re looking pale! Do you think it’s food poisoning?

KC: Whitney, you should go back to your daughter. Don’t get caught up in anything because of me. Henri is a friend of a friend. I’ll be fine.

WH: Don’t be stubborn. I told you I’m staying. I have a little more time. I’ll make you tea to settle your stomach.

Whitney rummages through the kitchen, pretty much trashing it until she finds what she wants. A gentle mint tea. She makes it and bring it to the bedroom, resting it on the nightstand.

WH: OK, Mr. Costner. This is pretty plain, mild mint tea. See if you can hold it down.
Kevin pulls himself up enough to sip some of the tea.

KC: That’s perfect. Wow.

WH: What do you mean ‘wow?’ I might not be Julia Child. Ever. But I can boil water. Hush up and drink some more.

Kevin complies, and after a few sips Whitney returns the mug to the saucer on the nightstand. She climbs into bed next to Kevin and arranges his head on the pillow. Then her bosom becomes a pillow.

WH: Don’t get fresh with the interim nurse, Kevin. You’re in no shape.

KC: That tea was just what the doctor ordered. C’mon over here.

WH: I’m about as far over there as I can get. Hey! (pushes him back) Did you just grab a handful of my @ss??

KC: Must be the drugs.

WH: Listen, we need to get you over this bug or whatever it is you have going on. Get your hand off that! Are you serious?

KC: Don’t you believe in holistic therapy?

WH: I truly believe you have a problem. You have a sick appetite. Stop it! Lean back before I tied you down.

KC: THAT’S the Whitney I wanna hang out with!

They stop suddenly. Kevin rushes to the bathroom and slams the door. When he comes back, he flops into the bed, no protests at all as Whitney lectures him.

WH: You see what happens when you try to hit on the nurse? God don’t like ugly, Kevin. Now you’re sweating. I hope you don’t have a fever.

Whitney dives into her bag and digs out a few thermometer strips.

KC: You travel with those?

WH: When you have a kid … Open your mouth.

She takes his temperature, and he has a small one. Whitney makes him lean back again, takes off his black boots and prepares another cold cloth for his forehead. Through it all, Kevin is groaning loudly and starts talking about his kids.

WH: Kevin, really. Don’t be dramatic. God is not calling you home. Let’s just get you comfortable until the nurse comes. (She checks her watch again. Then there is a knock at the door.)

Whitney walks to the door, shaking her head and muttering something about “Baptist boys.” Whitney opens the door and Henri is standing in the doorway with the nurse. She’s a drop-dead gorgeous Senegalese woman who gasps when she sees Whitney. Whitney looks at Henri, who speaks to the woman in French and gestures making shushing sounds.

WH: Is she gonna be cool, Henri?

Henri: Oui. Yes, yes. I ‘ave already explained to ‘er everysing.

WH: I should have called my own people.

Henri: No!! We are Kevin’s people ‘ere in Paris.

So they walk back to the bedroom, and as soon as the nurse sees Kevin, chaos erupts.

Nurse: Ze Bodyguard!! Ze Bodyguard!! Ah mon deiu! Frank et Raquel! I know it! I know it! I tell my friend, ‘Zey are not acting! Zey love each ozzer! Yes! And that stupid B---- B----. ’

WH: That’s enough! Henri, I thought you said this chick could handle it. She ain’t handling nothing!

Henri: Oui Madame! Monsieur! (Henri grabs the nurse, rather firmly and moves her to the ante-room.)

Nurse: Oh, les beaux bébés, pour Whitney et Kevin!

Henri: Arret! Arret! Trop la conversation!

And in a flurry of French, very firm on his part, he gets the nurse to calm down. In a few more minutes, she is reasonable, and returns to the bedroom. Whitney is giving her daggers. So the nurse obediently begins tending to Kevin. Through Henri, the nurse gets a few details. Then she unzips a rolling backpack, unloads medical equipment and starts getting his vitals, etc. Whitney crosses her arms and watches closely. Seems like the nurse has a lingering touch and Kevin has a lingering eye. The nurse glances at Whitney and says something nervously.

Henri: She has to remove his shirt.

Whitney: For what?!

Nurse: (Slighty startled) Pas problem! No, no. I can do zis like so. (And she listens to his breathing and everything through his shirt.)

Through Henri, they find out that Kevin is quite stable, aside from the vomiting, and that it’s probably a case of mild food poisoning. She asks if they want to take him to a doctor’s office in case.

KC: No. I’ll just ride this out from here. Henri, would you tell Paul I’m going to be here another couple of nights?
Henri agrees, and decides to stock the kitchen with clear liquids, etc.

Nurse: Shall I return zis evening, or … ?

WH: No, you may not! I will check on him later and IF we need a DIFFERENT nurse, Henri, we’ll call you! (Whitney swerves her neck, points her fingers and looks from the nurse to Henri.)

Nurse: But, zere is one more matter, madame.

Whitney: What is zat?!

Nurse: I might check you, too, Madame. In case you were … in contact and ...

Whitney: Henri, explain to this girl that is none of her business. I have my own French people, anyway to look after me. Thank you! Yes, thank you. Trying to be slick!

Kevin is laying back, quite contentedly, with the cool cloth on him. Whitney is at the foot of the bed, and the nurse is next to Kevin, getting flustered and packing her backpack. Whitney sits next to Kevin while she does this. Before she leaves, the nurse takes a last glance at Whitney sitting next to Kevin adjusting the cloth.

Nurse: (Whispers) Oh, ze babies!

End of Part 2