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29 September 2007 @ 08:47 pm
"Shot Down" Pt. 1  
Title: Shot Down, Part One
Fandom: Hot Fuzz
Character/s: NA/DB/Liz
Word Count: 28,000 total (part one, 5,900)
Rating: NC-17+
Summary: The begining of the Ring Cycle.

NOTES: : Okay, this is based on my own kink: threesomes. I really wanted Nick and Danny in a situation with a woman, but I also wanted emotional tension that I just don’t think Doris could provide. So I figured, in for a penny, in for a pound: I created a whole new character that would lead Nick and Danny down a dangerous path of romance, jealousy, break ups, make ups, and yes! grudge fucking. This is obviously wayyy off canon. It is set about a year after the events of the movie, and it must be assumed that at some point during the year Angel got his groove on with Danny, as they are in a very committed relationship when the story opens. I thought about wrapping a murder mystery into it, but hell, it’s a romance story and that’s that. Angel comes across as a bit of an ass in parts of this tale, but that (I hope) is simply a reflection of his inexperience in dealing with people at an emotional level, including himself. It starts off very G but there is some serious hardcore later on, all the way around, so if you don’t like that sort of thing, don’t even start reading it!
EDIT 2/6/08: Due to the nature of the Ring Cycle and what has happened to the characters, I have gone back and re-worked this fic, not from top to bottom but in important areas, and particularly the final section which is almost completely different. Liz has an actual history now, and it isn’t pretty, and Nicholas is a bit more off balance than anyone, including me, ever suspected. This was originally about 23,000 words overall, and now it is right at 28,000. So there.

Background:
(The START of the Ring Cycle…yes, this is where it all begins…)



Shot Down


“The last editor was horribly murdered by a rampaging homicidal neighborhood watch alliance?” Geo read off the paper.

Liz squinted in distaste.

“And then they all got rounded up by some renegade Met cop! That’ crazy, Liz! Anyway he sounds like a damn fascist in this interview…” Geo smiled scornfully, but Liz shook her head.

“I believe this is due to bad luck.”

“It’s not luck when you are the one who arranged everything. Jump off this sinking ship, okay?”

“The ship done sunk, Geo. We arranged that, right?”

“Stop it. Sometimes you got to do dirty work. I tol’ you that. Now you runnin’ like a scared little girl.”

“Just trying to start over. I think you know how that feels.”

“By movin’ to nowhere full of ‘omocidal maniacs? Did I not jus’ say the last editor was bru-tal-ly murdered? Eh? That’s bad luck, right there that is. Dat ship is sinking.”

“They changed the name of the paper and everything. Not even like the same ship.” Liz was really just talking to herself while she inspected the tip of her pen carefully.

“Liz, why did you put in for that job?”

“I don’t really want it.”

“Sah don go!” Geo’s island accent always came out in force when she was getting upset.

“Tipsy, I just have to get out of here.”

“I’ve never met someone who loved the city so much she couldn’t stand it.”

“Love the city, but not the people.”

“Ah am ‘urt. My name not even Andrew.”

Liz snorted and rolled her eyes. They were seated at her favorite coffee shop in East London, a place owned by a Tunisian family who really knew their coffee. Her best friend, almost a sister, and more like the heterosexual life partner of her dreams, was sitting across from her, doing her version of begging. Geo was artistic and crazy and funny but very proud, and was not, absolutely not, going to ask Liz to stay. She was, however, going to spend the next five days grilling Liz on all the insane and invalid reasons she was moving to butt-fuck-nowhere Sandford, Glouchester in order to take over a sinking local newsrag for less money than she made as an intern in college.

“The competition here is insane. I’ll never get to write the stories I want.”

“You are the best damn writer I ever met. Your reporting makes grown men cry. You are immaculate in your research, and you live for nothing but the story. Who, exactly, is your competition, woman?”

“The entire staff of the London Times?”

“You mess th’ dahmn shit and cows.”

Liz shrugged. She was small town girl and could not deny that she really missed the green fields and stone cottages of country living, even if the fields came filled with manure and the cottages with no central heating. She imagined herself more along the lines of James Harriet than Robert Fisk anyway, and wanted to get back to her roots. Even if, technically, they were not her roots but someone else’s. That might be an interesting story too.

“Or you are just trying to get as far away from our Andrew as possible without leaving the country?” Geo sat back, clearly aggravated, a flush showing through her dark brown skin.

“He’s gone, remember? Nothing to get away from.” Liz frowned back at her.

“It’s done, Liz. You don’t got to move to the country to move on.”

“You’re one to talk. Look, it’s not just…that. I really am doing this for my career.”

“You keep running away, you ‘ave ever since. You keep doin’ that, and you’ll never settle down again. Bein’ a slut…it only keeps the bed warm.”

“My bed is the only thing that needs warming. I don’t need anything or anyone else.”

Geo raised her eyebrows.

“Except you. I’ll always need you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t try to have sex with you, do I?”

Liz knitted her eyebrows. “It’s not all about sex.”

“Don’t play coy with me…we’ve talked about this before, Liz. You know what I’m gonna say.”

“Then please, please, please don’t say it.”

Geo nodded in defeat. Liz hated feeling vulnerable and she did every day in London. There was no way to be safe and she lived her life around her job, and Geo, and nearly-anonymous sex as a way to check out of real emotional intimacy with anyone. She did not think she needed it anyway – bad history, bad luck, and bad habits -- but Geo disapproved and told her so, and told her to start dating or at least quit work before nine at night or, at the very least, drink less. The idea of trusting a man, any man, scared her, though, and she opted for one night stands in preference to anything more emotionally binding, and she opted for celibacy to even that. She had a lot to forget and she did not, ever, want to cloud that drive with anything like love or sentiment. She left room for Geo, and that was all.

They sat in silence for a second, then Geo raised her deadly deep brown eyes up and grinned evilly.

“Tannnnnndori.” Geo she said, waggling her eyebrows. Liz could almost smell the Indian food just through the look in Geo’s eyes.

“I’ll visit! Okay? I’ll visit!”

Geo slurped her coffee unhappily, grunting. “Good. I hate sleeping alone.”

“You never sleep alone!” Liz squealed, laughing.

“That’s with th’men. They always hit on me in bed, the horny bastahrds.”

Liz shrugged, understanding. “Cuddles.”

“Yeah, I will miss my Cuddles.” Geo smiled, and finally, Liz felt regret.

-----

Sandford was pretty and Liz’s flat faced out over the village square. Her morning runs were through back alleys and village streets that glowed with the patina of age and tender care. There were some odd pockmarks in the village square’s fountain, which several locals took pains to inform her were from the Big Shootout last year. She found it interesting since she read about it at the time, but not interesting enough to delve any deeper. She had serious problems to face before sightseeing could begin.

Her time was spent cleaning up the newspaper’s office. It was two rooms, counting the bathroom, a Mac G5, a hot plate, and approximately five tons of disorganized paperwork. The person who filled in as acting editor over the last few months barely stayed long enough to give her a few passwords, the phone number of the printer, and the keys. Liz realized that she was very, very behind the Times. The publisher was a large house out of Edinburg, and this was just one of their many small properties kept afloat through advertising revenue and tax write-offs. She was hired less because of her reporting skills or editing talents than because she knew how to format for off-set printing. It was a one person office and HQ meant to keep it that way. She was on her own, and if there was a blessing to all this, that was it. She was alone, all the time, and for the first time in a long time, she felt safe.

“Hello?” Someone knocked on the door while opening it at the same time. He looked in, and Liz nearly dropped all the papers she was holding. He was not tall, dark, and handsome, but rugged, compact and very tightly wound, with a short crop of blond hair. A cop. She gasped and looked around for Geo, who was not there, and wondered if he was from the Met because he really did not look local, although he was in some fierce way quite gorgeous. Then she kicked herself.

“Ow! Bugger!” She cried out in pain, dropping the papers and reaching out to steady herself. He leapt over the desk without even thinking about it and grabbed her around the waist, gently setting her into the office’s only chair. She could not determine if she was breathless from the pain, or from his proximity.

“Are you alright?” He asked severely, and she mentally chided him for his poor bedside manners. Still, he was leaning in very close.

“Fine, fine. Tripped and kicked my own leg.” She reached forward to rub her leg and knocked her forehead into his chin. She cried out in pain again and he stood up, stifling a mild yelp.

He rubbed his chin for a second, stepped backwards carefully, and looked down at her. “Inspector Nicholas Angel, chief of the Sandford Police Service.” He rubbed a little harder for a second, then lowered his hand and moved his jaw around, testing. She just kept rubbing her leg and her forehead, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “I know you’ve been in town for several days but I thought you needed time…to…settle in…” The last few words were said as he looked around at the chaos of the office.

As he spoke Liz realized that he had to be the fascist Met cop Geo disapproved of, and he was making a very poorly handled social call, and that was the extent of the drama here. She laughed.

“Something is funny?” He glared at her, rubbing his chin again. She thought that he definitely needed a sense of humor transplant. Or a lot of alcohol, which she would be happy to oblige.

“Oi, Inspector. Not at all.” And then she started laughing until she cried.

-----

“She like old Tim then?” Danny asked as everyone sat around eating ice cream. Nicholas finally caught the Andes breaking the ban on smoking in the office (a new rule that everyone but the Andes approved of) and made them buy the ice cream that week, which was a first for the Andes. For everyone else, it was just desserts.

Nicholas thought for a moment, his spoon raised halfway to his mouth. He knew Danny had an oral fixation and it was his tiny way of torturing him while also gathering his thoughts for an answer. Finally, when he saw sweat starting to form on Danny’s upper lip: “Not at all. Tim was innocent and not very intelligent. Ms. Liz King is just…insane.”

Doris laughed, and Tony squinted in amusement. Walker might have said something – Nicholas was never very certain, with him – and the Andes guffawed. Only Danny looked perplexed.

“But she’s a re-port-er.” He said, as if that was reason enough to assume her superiority.

“As was Tim.” Nicholas shrugged and ate his ice cream, noticing that Danny was not watching him carefully after all.

“Awww, Tim was Tim, eh?” Danny could never bring himself to be in too much awe of someone he went to school with, even if they were hideously murdered. “But she’s from London! Like you!”

This time the general laughter was a bit stifled. Nicholas knew that his relationship with Danny was the worst kept secret in the entire village, but he did like to keep up appearances, so he glared forcefully at everyone in turn. The silence that followed was very chilly. Except, of course, from the Andes.

“Oooo London! Must be perfect then! Is she blond too?” Andy cooed.

“She is brunette. And she is…very healthy.”

“Fat.” Doris smirked.

“No, I wouldn’t, er, say that.” Nicholas raised his eyebrows and delved back into the ice cream, avoiding Danny.

The Andes both perked up. “Stacked, is she?” Wainwright tried to glare at Nicholas, but as always, overdid his DeNiro impersonation.

“If by stacked, you mean she is a well proportioned and very handsome woman, yes.” Nicholas glanced up at Danny, expecting…something. What he saw was not that something: instead it was a very interested Danny, eyebrows raised, ice cream forgotten. This was not quite what he anticipated.

Doris sniffed and walked off to the locker room. Walker returned to the newspaper and Tony shrugged.

“Can’t argue w’ bringing a ‘healthy’ woman into town,” Tony chirped, but as usual, no one was listening.

------

Nicholas had to admit that Liz King was definitely more than handsome. Janine was lithe and exquisite and possessed the most expressive eyes Nicholas had ever seen in his life, but she was not what he would have called sexy. ‘Sexy’ rarely figured into his choices, anyway. He never settled on a single type of woman physically, usually preferring the precisely-etched personalities that matched his own. Then Danny appeared in his life, and Nicholas, not ever considering himself gay, nonetheless thought that his days with women were over. He still thought so; as attractive as he found Liz King to look at, she was clearly demented. His visit to her office earlier in the day amounted to a comedy of errors inside a cubist paper mill, and he left shortly after she slid to floor in hysterical laughter.

“So she just…laughed?” Danny sat next to him on the couch in Danny’s apartment, because it was Tuesday. Nicholas was very strict about the schedule of which nights were spent where.

“Yes, like a madwoman. I could not get another word out of her.” Nicholas gazed at the television, where SuperCop was playing. Danny said he knew the script by heart, at least the English subtitles, so he turned the sound off earlier. Nicholas could not find a way to argue with him about the illogic of that decision.

“But just laughed, I mean?” Danny persisted, looking out towards the front windows.

“Yes just laughed!” Nicholas felt his temper flare. He was already tired of Liz King, and she only just arrived.

“Don’t seem crazy to me.” Danny shrugged, still looking out towards the windows and not at the movie. That annoyed Nicholas more than anything.

“Are we watching the movie?” He moved to turn it off.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just thinkin’ about her laughin’, is all. You was prob’ly funny or somethin’.”

“I introduced myself.” Nicholas grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. Danny did not notice.

“Still, she can’t be crazy.”

“Well you can just visit her tomorrow yourself, then.” Nicholas marched out to the bedroom, as annoyed with Danny as he had been with Liz King, and regretting his advice. He was very certain that he did not want Danny to visit Liz King…but he could not think of a good reason why he would feel that way, or a good reason to stop Danny if he did visit the woman. Confused, Nicholas slammed himself into the bed and lay still with his arms crossed, wondering what in the hell Danny was doing in the living room with the TV off.

------

“’Elloo?” Danny peered around the corner of the door.

“Comin’!”

“Eh?”

“Come. In. Come in!”

Danny did as instructed and walked straight into a tall pile of paperwork, sending it crashing.

“Bloody…oh no, not more of you. How many are there, anyway?”

The woman was definitely ‘healthy’, as Nicholas put it. Danny did not mind thinking of her as outrageously sexy, in fact. He kept his bisexuality on the back burner with Nicholas, suspecting that he would be jealous of anyone Danny took a shine to, male or female. Danny was no stranger to midnight calls in the few relationships he had been in, but he did not do that to Nicholas and was not going to start now. He loved him and would rather die than give Nicholas any reason not to trust him. Still, this woman was built like an hourglass. Danny whistled in appreciation, then covered his mouth in horror.

“What?” Her voice was dead pan and icy, her gaze imperious. Danny wondered what she would look like if she laughed, and if she ever laughed at all, despite what Nicholas said.

“Just…very…mess…sorry?” Danny grasped at ideas but did not actually catch any of them.

“No really, how many of you are there?”

“’Scuse me?”

“The inspector yesterday, and those two detectives this morning. How many visits am I going to be blessed with?” She put her hands on those fine, healthy hips, and inspected the mess at Danny’s feet. He shuffled backwards.

“S’sorry. Need help?” He put out his hands in supplication, and she did a double take.

“Uh, sure. Detective…?”

“Nawwwww, not detective. Sergeant Danny Butterman!”

And then she smiled, and Danny caught the only idea that he actually liked. He blinked, confused with himself.

“Okay. Here. Pick up all these papers. Separate emails from faxes from clippings from…everything else. One pile for each.” She pointed, and Danny dropped to the ground without argument. Something about her tone almost made him think of Nicholas. She was not quite as cold in her instructions, but certainly as decisive. Danny loved a person with self-confidence; it was the part of Nicholas that turned him on the most. He grinned up at her as he took off his helmet.

“You’re a lot more…human than I’ve come to expect.” She said as she turned to another pile.

“What’ch’r mean?” Danny asked, looking at some papers.

“Your Inspector has quite a stick up his ass, doesn’t he?”

Danny nearly fell over laughing. “Yeahhhh.”

“And those two detectives…walking hard-ons. What is up with them?”

“The Andes? They’re just…the Andes.”

“Yeah well I hope someone has written them up for sexual misconduct. At least once.” The cold edge returned to her voice, and Danny panicked. He liked her better when she was smiling.

“They don’t mean nothing by it. They’re just blokes.”

“Incredibly horny and annoying blokes named Andrew.”

“Yeah.” Danny sighed.

“Sergeant Butterman?”

“Yeah?” His face brightened and he looked over to where she was kneeling on the floor in the middle of another stack of papers.

“You’re a fine chap. Thanks for helping.” She said it simply and sincerely, and Danny melted inside, which was the worst thing that could happen, and it felt wonderful.

------

“So I can see why he got killed, I’d murder him myself if he were here.” Liz flipped through an old issue of the paper.

“That bad?” On the other end of the line, Geo was high and highly amused.

“It’s like he was a frustrated tabloid reporter with bad spelling. You can’t expect much out of a rural rag like this but I mean my god! Tim Messenger was unforgivably bad.”

“Don’t speak ill of the dead!” Geo giggled, knowing exactly where Liz went with that. “So what else? Just cleaning the office?”

“Half the police force dropped by the last couple of days.”

“Shit…”

“No no. Just social calls. Very friendly crowd, here.”

“Yeah? Like, welcome to town, we got tar and feathers?”

“Geo.”

“I jus’ say, watch your back.”

“Not like that. These cops are…very…interesting.”

Geo waited for her to go on. Or, she was falling asleep.

“Met that Inspector Angle…no, Angel. Inspector Angel.”

“Ooooo, the fascist?”

“The very same.”

“And?”

“Very uptight. Caught me at a bad moment, and probably thinks I’m demented.”

“Wot?”

“I cracked my shin and when he tried to help me, I smacked him in the jaw with my skull.”

“You really on target. You were born for my job.”

“That’s me, the accidental dominatrix….No.”

“So let me get this straight, you clocked the chief inspector of police?”

“Yes.”

“Nice first date.”

“No. Definitely not. Anyway then I started laughing and nearly peed myself.”

Geo howled. “This is a great scene! You writing porn now?”

“I nearly peed myself, and anyway, I don’t wear diapers. That’s your gig.”

“No, that is my customers’ gig. I just give them good reason to pee…so you lost it, then? Right there wit the copper? Dahmn, that’s funny.”

Liz wanted to disagree, but didn’t. She thought about mentioning how incredibly attractive he was in person, how well his uniform fit, how delightfully calculating his eyes were, but she knew that Geo might get the wrong idea. Although what that idea was, Liz tried not to think about herself. He was fuckable, and she tried to keep that in mind. Nothing else.

“Who else?”

“The Andrews.”

Geo sucked in her breath at the name. “Two of them? How many Andrews are there in the world?”

“Too many. Those pricks were outrageous. And they have porn star mustaches.” She shuddered. The detectives had not been overtly rude, but their stares were blatantly obvious. She was a slut, but damned if she would ever fuck an Andrew again.

“What an…interesting place, Liz. Who else?”

Liz paused. How to explain Sergeant Butterman? “Sergeant Butterman.”

“Oh, okay. Sure.”

“Danny. His name is Danny.”

“Well it least it isn’t Andrew.” Geo laughed, but Liz could not. “Okay, Liz. Tell me about Danny. You’re holding out. What, is he gorgeous?”

Liz snorted. “No no, that’s not a word you use for Danny. He’s…sweet.”

Geo snorted back at her, then realized that Liz was serious. “You’re serious.”

“Yeah, I guess I am. I mean, he is just very sweet. He just came in to say hi and then stayed for three hours helping me sort papers. He’s been by almost every day since, just to help out. And you should see the cartoons he doodles in his notebook, they are hysterical.! And…he likes Bad Boys II.”

Geo groaned. There was one sore point between them, and it was Liz’ inexplicable fondness for action movies. Geo thought they were corporate whore bastard monstrosities of the soulless industrial entertainment machine, with a good measure of testosterone-fueled patriarchal domination to boot. Liz loved them.

“A real winner.”

“I don’t mean it that way. He’s just…like a big puppy. Adorable.” Liz shrugged and thought desperately how to change the topic.

Geo was silent for a fraction of a second too long. “Maybe that’s just what you need.”

“What?”

“Someone to just be sweet on you. Someone to put up with your OCD. Someone you can…trust.”

------

Liz decided to pack it in early – 7pm – and head for the pub. She normally did not like going out for socializing while there was still so much left to do, but she was four days into what felt like a massive toxic waste dump cleanup and she really, really needed a break. Part of her was hoping to run into Sergeant Butterman anyway. He talked about the pub all the time and she knew he went there a lot. His bright smile and terrible jokes were something she could really use right about now, on top of a few pints.

It had been a while since she looked forward to spending time with a bloke. After the disaster with Andrew played out, she spent her time cuddling with Geo, staying home alone, or (mostly) staying late at work. While she thought that Danny was a little cute, he was certainly not her type, and this gave her a bit of distance from him when he visited. She could enjoy his company without worrying about consequences or jumping straight to sex. As Geo pointed out regularly, Liz spent far too much time worrying about consequences and/or jumping straight to sex. She preferred the emotional distance of liking someone without commitment, of knowing that the person did not really like her back, or need her, or want to place demands on her. She would answer to no one, not any more, not even Geo. Geo, at least, accepted that, and pretty much felt the same way. Everyone else on earth expected some kind of commitment or emotional investment or compromise….they all wanted a piece of her soul, and she was not giving that away any more.

But Danny was somehow above all of that, or beyond it, or just not affected by it. He was a ‘good kid’ and friendly,

Liz walked into the pub and saw Danny at a table with, she assumed, the rest of the police officers in town. As she veered over towards him, resolving to at least be polite to the lecherous Andes, she saw Inspector Angel sitting with them. He was smiling. Laughing. It took years off him and gave a lightness to his features that she only imagined before. She could not stop staring.

-------

“You got a fan, Inspec-tor.” Doris wagged, nodding towards the door.

Everyone at the table turned to catch Liz King staring at Nicholas. He looked back to his lager, casting a quick glance around at his team. They were all beaming in delighted maliciousness, except the Andes, who looked back at him with a hostility bordering on homicidal.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Liz King turn beet red, give a small wave directly to Danny, and walk up to the bar with a guilty look on her face. Secretly, Nicholas realized that he was very, very pleased. Until he saw Danny.

Danny’s face was as close to rapture as it ever got outside of Bad Boys II and sex, and Nicholas’ pleasure turned to rank fury. Sensing the tide, he immediately shut himself down. It was one trick he never forgot how to do, if he remembered it in time. This time he did, which was fortunate, because Danny leapt out of his chair to go chase down Liz at the bar and it was all Nicholas had in him not to try for a tackle. He absolutely refused to watch Danny walk away, turning instead to resume something, anything, with Tony.

Danny managed to drag Liz back to the table, and she squeezed into a chair between Danny and Doris. The Andes took this as some form of encouragement, despite all evidence to the contrary, and began to sharpen their tough-detective routine. The only one who listened to them was Walker, and perhaps Saxon.

Despite his reservations and their horrible first meeting, Nicholas had to admit that she was funny. She and Danny were riffing on some action flick, Danny providing the gun noises while Liz put out a running commentary on the car chase scenes as if they were sporting events. Doris was howling with laughter and Tony kept spitting out his beer, and finally, finally, the Danny Butterman/Liz King re-enactment of the motorcycle chase scene from Matrix Reloaded cracked Nicholas’ resolve. He laughed until he thought he was going to cry.

------

“No really he’s not like that, Liz!” Danny whispered in her ear, pissed and smelling faintly of chocolate. They were huddled at the far end of the bar, ostensibly ordering drinks, but really just clinging to each other in an attempt for each to make it to the loo without falling down.

“Yea I can see he laughs, Danny. But he’s trouble. Trust me. I know…”

Danny scoffed, and ended up snorting too, getting her ear all wet. She laughed and rubbed her ear with her shirt sleeve, sending her hand across Danny’s cheek by accident. She went to apologize, looking up at him, but the look on his face stopped her. He was drunk, there was no mistaking that, but he was also staring at her with a deep and earnest desire. She was drunk too, and some part of her thought that she really needed to push him away, but she didn’t, because the other half of her was horny. She was leaning over the bar and he was next to her, one arm draped over her shoulders, and she suddenly realized that his groin was resting against her right hip, because she felt his erection through both of their pants.

He started to lean in and this time she did push him back. “’Ey, Danny! Com’on!” She tried to laugh it off but it sounded like a false note, even to her. Danny gave her a crooked smile, not offended or put out in any way, and pulled back just a breath, enough for both to get their bearings.

They stopped talking for a second, deciding how to move on from their awkward situation. Danny was unruffled by the attraction, Liz could tell, but there was something very furtive in his manner.

“Nicky’s a good bloke, you know.” Danny announced, picking up the conversation they started earlier and turning to face the bar so they stood side by side, barely touching.

“Stick. Up. Ass.” Liz snorted.

“Yeahhh…he takes his work very seriously, Liz.”

“He’s…unbalanced.” She said it, not knowing why.

“Nicholas? He’s the best cop alive!”

“Yeah but is he human? Does he really give a damn about anyone but himself?” She asked, distracted by memories, and Danny frowned at her.

“He nearly got himself killed to save Sandford. To save me. And of course he’s human, what you think he’s the Predator or sumthin’? Oh! Those pod people!” Danny nodded, warming to the idea, but Liz groaned.

“No! Just…he’s awfully…just uptight.” She sighed, giving up trying to explain something she did not have a sober grasp on.

“Oh he loosens up sometimes.” Danny gave her a mischievous, naughty grin and she shook her head.

“Oh come on, Danny. You can’t tell me he’s a sex-crazed idiot.” She meant for the accusation to be so outlandish that Danny would laugh himself silly, but instead, he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “He’s got a girl in every shop?” Liz tried again, hoping to push the joke to a laugh, but Danny just kept staring forward with that surprised look on his face, at a loss for words.

“Come on, Danny, time to go. I’ll help you get home.”

They both whirled around. Angel was behind them, apparently stone cold sober, but not sober enough: as Liz tried to right herself with her pint in her hand, her left leg slid out from under her, her arms flew up, and she clocked Angel on the jaw with her glass. He toppled like a building falling down in slow motion, completely knocked senseless. Danny and everyone else in the pub started yelling and ran to help, swarming around them and causing more chaos than anything. Liz was clinging to the bar edge, appalled, thinking that she should to do something to help as Danny and the Andes dragged the unconscious inspector to a chair.

But all she could focus on was wondering exactly how long he had been standing behind them, and what he had heard, and why he felt the need to spy. He was bad news, she felt it, and she knew that he was someone she needed to stay far away from.

------

Danny made it a point to stop by Liz’ office every single day on his rounds after their glorious pub night. Sometimes it was just to say hello, sometimes he found a reason to stay longer. He did not tell Nicholas and took great pains to make sure he was not obvious about it. He was certain that Nicholas had not seen the part in the pub where Danny was hitting on Liz, for which he was grateful, because he never meant it seriously. He was just drunk. So was Liz. They did not really do anything and it was clear the next day that Liz decided it never happened, which Danny thought was totally awesome of her. His visits did not feel like cheating or anything, not to him, because, well, he and Liz were good mates now, and that was all. But he also knew that Nicholas did not like her much.

Although Danny suspected he, himself, was starting to like her too much.

“What are you thinking about?” Nicholas pushed Danny onto his back, turning Danny’s own question back on him. They were in bed and Danny had started something, and it was nice, but then he thought of Liz and got confused again. He knew he was attracted to her, but it seemed silly to think of her now.

Nicholas’ hand drifted down and lightly stroked Danny’s cock, apparently not waiting for an answer to what he was thinking about. Danny looked over, smiling, but the smile faded at the sight of Nicholas’ expression. It was not the light-hearted gaze he normally got during foreplay. Danny did not know what it was.

“You’re mine.” Nicholas said it flatly, as if he had been reading Danny’s mind. He squeezed Danny’s cock forcefully, making Danny gasp in surprise.

“Yeah, Nicholas, yeah.” Danny nodded nervously. He wondered where this came from, and more importantly, where it was going. Nicholas began hand fucking Danny, stronger and harder than ever before, and it was almost painful. Danny realized that this was not about foreplay. “Nicky!” He called out, half pleading, half in desire, and in complete surprise. Nicholas propped himself up on one arm and kept the friction on Danny with his other hand. Danny tried to reach out and touch him, but Nicholas pulled away, so he laid his arms down and balled the sheets in his hands in frustration. At that point, still pumping Danny with a force bordering on aggression, Nicholas leaned over and put his lips to Danny’s ear.

“Say it.” It was a growl, a low voice Danny had not heard in a long time. It was incredibly sexy, and Danny moaned, but a part of his mind also remembered that it was a very dangerous voice, a very dangerous sound from Nicholas. They never played this rough, and Danny was not sure it was as enjoyable as it looked on video. “Say it!” Nicholas repeated, pumping his hand incrementally faster and using his thumb to move over the top of the head with every stroke. It was torturous enough but then he bit the top of Danny’s ear. Hard.

At the bite, which hurt all to hell, Danny started to come out of nowhere, an explosion he was not ready to enjoy and not prepared to control. Danny’s hips thrust wildly and he felt Nicholas’ leg wrap over his leg in order to hold him down, forcing him down and forcing him to come and forcing himself on Danny in a strange, bizarre way.

“Yours, Nicky! Yours…..ahhh!” He yelled and utterly collapsed. He regained awareness of himself in Nicholas’ arms, feeling Nicholas petting him slowly and lovingly, and Danny realized that he was going to cry. He forced his face into Nicholas’ chest and sobbed.

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Nicholas lay with Danny in his arms, who had stopped sobbing and started sniffling. Hand raping the man was not what he meant to do, but Nicholas lost control the second he realized Danny’s mind was somewhere else. He lost control, and he knew why.

He had seen Danny try to kiss Liz at the pub the week before, and overheard them joking about him, but he knew that Danny was completely pissed and he saw Liz push him off, so that was not something he dwelled on too much. But earlier that day, Nicholas snuck out of the office to the shop, in order to buy a surprise cornetto to give Danny later. According to Danny’s recent call in to Sergeant Turner, he was on the far side of town near the castle and Nicholas figured it was the perfect time to sneak around in broad daylight. He stopped next to the National Trust office, staring, mouth agape. Danny was walking out of the newspaper office, grinning like a school boy, Liz right behind him, smiling. She stopped and propped herself in the doorway and handed Danny his helmet in a familiar, friendly way, bopping Danny in the chest with her other hand. Danny laughed again, put on the helmet, and gave Liz a little wave as he walked off, nearly bouncing with joy.

Danny lied about where he was. Danny was not telling him about his visits to Liz King. Danny…Nicholas did not make it to the shop after that. And he did not fall asleep easily that night, even after Danny looked up with adoration in his eyes, kissed Nicholas on the neck, and fell blissfully asleep.

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Cont. (Links go to my LJ):
Part Two
 
 
Current Mood: accomplished