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22 October 2007 @ 10:10 am
To Move Mountains (Part 1)  
To those in the know: here it is!

Title: To Move Mountains
Fandom: Hot Fuzz
Character/s: NA/DB (implied), NA/AC, AC/AW, AAA (just a hint)
Word Count: 18,000 (in ahelluvalotta parts)
Rating: NC-17+ (For the love of god, I mean it!)
Summary: Evil rolls into to town; everything goes to hell and an Angel falls.

NOTES: After being slapped around a bit myself, I have correctly assumed the position and used the standard naming convention for the Andes, that is:
‘K? Alright? Good? Fine. Good.

This is about as close as I can get to breaking characters apart completely. It is an interesting story, but don’t expect it to tie into cannon much…the characters kept writing themselves into corners and I’m not sure I got them out well. WTH, it’s a roller coaster ride…and I’m not joking. This is angst squared.
Also, to be ‘up’ on the events going on, you need to read both the Shot Down series and Even Mountains Crumble, which are precursors to what happens here. Otherwise there are references to events and characters that will only confuse you. I did not mean this to be a sequel, but it turned out that way for various reasons. And for other various reasons, it will require a sequel of its own. Oh yes, I assure you of that.

WARNINGS: Some scenes here might upset you – yes, I’m talking about rape and torture, apart from the BDSM element that is sooo Andes – and a VERY fucked up ending. You will HATE ME.

To Move Mountains: Part One

Two years ago, Andrew was bored. His porn collection was stale, and he was tired of seeing the same dildo-seduction scenes over and over again. Sex is sex and there are only so many variations possible. Many are hot; most are familiar; and all of them have been done before. He knew Andy’s tastes ran to the peculiar, and he wanted to know just how peculiar they were, and he was bored so what the fuck, he broke into Andy’s room and grabbed a few DVDs. He is a police detective and knows what a trail of evidence is, so he did this professionally and did not leave any clue that he was ever there.

That was two years ago. He now counted on Andy’s esoteric bondage-fantasy purchases to supplement Andrew’s own, more plebian tastes. He did not do it often, and he was very picky. He did not like the mixed gender ones, which were just freaky. He did not understand the whole “pony” thing at all. And being a police officer, he did not cotton to pedophilia-like fantasies of grown women prancing around in school girl uniforms getting whipped. He liked girls with nice asses getting spanked, and eventually figured out that he also liked girls with large tits wearing ball gags, and he pretty much liked any woman in latex. The men he kind of discounted. Some were very good looking men, who seemed to enjoy being tied up next to very good looking women, and when he thought about that, he figured, who the hell wouldn’t?

Of course, this was not a habit he ever let on about. He was careful and never left any evidence of his crimes. Sometimes he went to make a joke that would clearly reference something on one of the videos, but stopped himself short. He did not want his partner to think he was a freak or anything like that. Even though, of course, his partner was a freak himself. Deeply, disturbingly perverted, Andrew had no doubts anymore. He was fine with that as long as Andy did not flaunt it. After all, what was it to him if Andy like to tie women up before he banged ‘em?


Nicholas Angel and Danny Butterman would not touch him. At least, not anymore. Danny managed to pin him down one night in the locker room and had both his handcuffs and his dick out when Nicholas Arsewipe walked in and started shouting. Andy acted relieved but he was very, very pissed. Angel might be the top in that relationship, but Danny knew something about pushing a man around and clearly did not get enough of a chance to do so.

Not that Andy really wanted Danny’s dick in his face. He just wanted anyone. Correction: he wanted any man. This knowledge was not knew, but acting on it was, and Andy felt that he was like a new toy no one would play with. It was his own curse that being rejected and ignored was as much of a turn on as being rubbed down with baby oil. His only recourse was his porn collection, and the interesting new twists it could take now that Andy Cartwright finally, finally understood what he was.


Danny sat with Liz on a break from his beat. She was working, genuinely working, and cursing, and playing desk-jongg in between phone calls.

“You know, Danny, things may not happen much here in Sandford, but I swear, every other village around here is full of perverts and serial killers.”

“Well, actually, Liz, Sandford has a unique history there…”

“I know, Danny! But I’m talking about now. The whole NWA was what, nearly two years ago? Northwest Wapping has a rash of abandoned babies and there are reports out Wiltfordshire of a couple of mysterious bodies turning up at an old farm…and here, cow mutilations.” She shook a scrap of paper at him.

“Here?” Danny sat up, shocked at that last.

“No, I mean, there, in Kenfield Manor.”

Danny sat back in the chair.

“And Nicholas.”

They looked at each other miserably. For all the fabulousness of their three-part relationship, Nicholas was making things difficult. Danny knew that this was something new, starting from a situation he and Nicholas were in a couple of months before with Andy. Liz did not know that, and Danny was not about to tell her. It was wrong to lie, although certainly safer.

But the fact was, Nicholas was turning into a jealous bitch.


Nicholas knew that the only person to assign to the case was Cartwright. He was not pleased about it, because he personally did not think Cartwright was mentally stable enough. While their locker-room experience was sometimes the subject of Nicholas’ heated fantasies when he was alone in the shower, it was hardly a psychologically healthy denouement to Andy’s issues with his sexuality. It was, in fact, a disturbing moment of awakening, a time when the man was forced to reckon with his own desires and needs, and Nicholas did not believe for an instant that it was over for him.

Neither, unfortunately, did Danny, who was surprisingly aggressive in his manhandling of Andy at the time and who kept finding reasons to ‘stay late’ at work whenever Andy had extra paperwork to do, which Andy seemed to find a lot to do lately. Nicholas was not stupid, and he was not going to share. He broke up their foreplay more than once and he intended to keep breaking it up until Danny got the message: Danny belonged to Nicholas and Liz, and Andy belonged somewhere else. Anywhere else.

Nicholas shook his head. The fact was, he suspected this case involved a lot more than a petty grifter trying to hide from her pimp in a small town in the middle of nowhere, shoplifting to get food in the pantry. Nicholas was the one to arrest her, and it was clearly a terrifying experience for her, despite a history of being arrested for minor offenses, and he knew instinctively that something else was going on. She would never trust him now, though. He needed to assign a detective to the matter, and the only two in Sandford were the Andes, and the only one of those two who might even pass for gay was Andy Cartwright.


“Nicky, y’aren’t making any sense. None.” Danny clucked at his lover while they were at dinner. Liz was working late again, or more likely talking on the phone to Geo, so they sat at the Indian food restaurant by themselves. Danny was trying to keep Nicholas’ mind on something like work, because when it wasn’t, it kept roaming off to parts that made both Danny and Liz miserable. Danny’s attempted trysts with Andy and Liz’ all-hours obsession with Geo were not helping matters.

“Danny, this woman is terrified, of what I don’t know. I do not think it is her pimp.”

“Right. An’ what has this got to do with benders?”

Nicky cringed, still displeased whenever Danny used the word. Danny did not understand that either, because it was just a word, and they were both benders anyway, Liz or no Liz.

Nicky tapped the table and looked at the ceiling. Finally he leaned forward and spoke very quietly. “Because, Danny, she is a he.”

Danny gasped and blinked. “Wot?!” He thought this was marvelous. A cross dresser! Just like Willem DaFoe in Boondock Saints! Only not as cute! He started howling.

“Danny! Stop!” Nicholas said fiercely, red in the face, which Danny thought kind of made him sexy. Then he thought of Nicholas in a dress and nearly fell out of his chair in hysterics.


“Wot?” Andy stood in front of Nicholas’ desk, his usual swagger in full array, his eyebrows raised in rebellion.

“You heard me, Detective Constable. This one is yours.”

“You’re fuhkin’ kiddin’ me.”

“Complete sentences, if you please, Constable.” Nicholas tapped the desk with his pen, trying to look severe.

“She’s a guy?”

Nicholas nodded, realizing that this was as close to complete sentences as he was going to get for a while.

“What’s that got to do with me, In-spec-tor?”

Nicholas’ eyes narrowed. “We need someone to gain her confidence.”

Andy jerked his head towards the door. “Doris.”

“Someone to gain her confidence, Constable, not someone to share make-up tips with, as much as you might enjoy that too.”

Andy flushed red but did not say anything. Nicholas knew he was still riding on his role as the top, and while part of him suspected that it was unacceptable to keep riding it, he felt a firm hand was called for here. Nothing else, he reminded himself, needed to get firm at this precise moment.

Andy did his slow-motion blink that always indicated a smart-ass comment was rising out him, and Nicholas slapped his pen onto the desk. Hard. Andy froze.

“Right. This woman – as we will continue to refer to her – knows something, is scared of something, and may be bringing more trouble into town than I care to see. You will be our point of contact with her. You will protect her. You will confide your perversions to her and gain her confidence in return. You will find out everything you can.”

Andy breathed heavily, his eyes narrowed, clearly unhappy, flushing even redder at the word ‘perversions.’

Nicholas templed his fingers and looked up at him. “And you will do this properly, just as I told you to do it, or I will never fuck you again. Now get out.”

Andy spun and walked out. Nicholas leaned back in his chair, frowning, furious at himself and his raging hard-on.


She – he – IT was not unattractive, in a baby dyke kind of way. Andy stood in the middle of her – his – IT’s one room flat and as she – he – IT set up a kettle of water for tea.

Andy’s sense of relief at being told what to do, of being pushed into this, softened his displeasure at the job itself, but did not eradicate it. He thought Angel was being a twat, that this – person – was just a low-life loser on the run from what was probably a well-deserved beating and there was no reason for Andy to do anything more than verify her – his – IT’s story and then have Angel fuck him. Better than nothing. Maybe he’d use his handcuffs...as he thought about it that way, he decided this was turning into one of his best assignments ever.

“Look, I tol’ that inspector everythin’.”

Andy ran his tongue over his teeth, indicating that he was not convinced.

“S’true, ‘kay? I’m just tryin’ to keep my face in one piece. S’all.”

“Miss Safi, just doin’ our duty to check on your safety, then, right? Unless there is more you’d like to share?” He gave her his best eye roll – him – IT – to press for a crack in the story which he did not believe existed. If she was telling the truth, then – he – IT – would stick to the story. That is exactly what Andy expected to happen.

Safi looked at him, worried but tough. Very tough. This was not a Sandford girl, this was a London cross-breed who had deep brown eyes and olive skin and a flat out pretty accent. “So ‘e sent you over ‘cause you’re fookin’ queer.”

Andy tried not flinch, but he knew he failed.

“’U can tell that bastard that Sara Safi don’t fook around, ‘kay? Get the fuck out, bender.”

Being tough was one thing Andy did not need to pretend. “Scared of a real man, is she? What you scared of?”

“Yer inspector knows. What, this ‘ole town full of fookin’ benders? Guess I came to the right place afta all.”

“Right, right, your pimp lookin’ for you. He like you up the ass, does he?” As he said it he realized his plan collapsed while he was not looking. She did not stick to her story, she was looking for a way out of sticking to it. Andy knew first hand that putting someone on the defense was almost always the best way to drive them like a car. He stepped back and looked her up and down. “You been lyin’ the whole time.”

She glared at him but did not answer.

Relaxed now that he had the situation under control, Andy took out a cigarette.

“No smoking my flat.”

He looked at her and lit the cigarette. “Oh, she talks?”


It was at least a month since Andrew’s last break in. He was horny and Andy was working late, probably doing all that damn paperwork Angle always fuckin’ harped about. He broke in and carefully flipped through the latest purchases, which Andy methodically kept to the front of the box, and stopped cold.

Gay. Porn. Bondage.

He could not bring himself to touch it. He could barely even think it. At first he thought it was a joke Andy was playing on him, that he somehow found out about his stealthy video borrowing and was having him off. If that were the case, though, there was no need to buy six different DVDs of the crap.

Andrew stared at something he tried to pretend did not exist and realized that his closest, best mate whom he had known all his life was completely, mind-fucking insane.


She did not talk much, in fact, but she fixed a cup and tea and did not kick him out. He backed off, let her change the subject. He could wait, now that he knew he was waiting for something. Eventually he walked out, telling her he’d be back the next day, gave her his number for any ‘emergencies’ and asked if she felt safe. Angel told him too protect her, too. That was part of the task assigned him, and he would do it, whether Safi wanted him to or not.

She just shrugged and closed the door.


Nicholas sat watching Liz and Danny. They were on the couch at Danny’s flat, the very tortured and abused couch, watching…something. Another ridiculous movie that they both already knew by heart.

Nicholas felt terrible and could not think about the movie or about his lovers sitting next to him, laughing and happy. He had just committed himself to doing something with Andy for no reason other than the sexually-charged power rush of it, and that, he understood implicitly, was called cheating…and he did not even do anything yet.

This was wrong. Nicholas Angel did not cheat in a relationship and he did not lie to the people he was committed to. At this point, Liz did not even know about the locker-room tryst he and Danny shared with – forced on? – Andy. In the name of Whatever, what next?

Nicholas got up and walked out.


Danny and Liz sat on the couch staring at each other in shock.

“You say something to him?”

“No! You?”

“I don’t think so.”

They turned to look at the empty spot that moments before was Nicholas.


“What the fuck you want, Arsewipe?”

Nicholas just stared. Andrew Wainwright was possibly drunker than he had ever seen him, and that was saying something.

“Is Andrew here?” He tried to keep it simple.

“I’m right here.” Andrew sneered at him.

Nicholas rolled his eyes impatiently. “I meant the other Andrew. Andy. Is he in?”

“No, in fact, he’s not.”

Nicholas was unprepared for that answer. “Oh. Do…ah…do you know where he is?”

Andrew opened his mouth to say something, then stopped. Weaving slightly, he glared at Nicholas, snorted, and shook his head. “No.”

“Okayyyy…could you tell him I stopped by, please. Concerning a case.” Nicholas turned to leave.

“Oh? A case? Sure you ain’t here to fuck him up the arse, bender?” Andrew cocked his head mockingly.

Nicholas turned back around, slowly, and stared at him. He was trying to judge just how drunk Andrew was, how much he might know, and how he could have found out if so. He laid money on the fact that Andy did not tell him anything. That left Danny. Nicholas really could not believe that, though, which left…no one. He kept staring, trying to get a bead on what he had walked into.

Andrew leaned against the door frame, heavy in his drunk, but his eyes still focused. This was not a crazy alcohol-induced random showdown. Andrew was furious. Nicholas decided that he really needed to know why.

“And if I am?”

Nicholas felt himself flying as Andrew grabbed his jacket and threw him into the house. He was in shock that someone that pissed could still move that fast. They were nearly the same age, and while Nicholas was better trained, Andrew was heavier. Nicholas registered that they were evenly matched as his head hit the wall.


Sobriety crashed down on Andrew the moment Angel fell to the floor. His head hit the wall with the wet sound of a melon being cracked and he went limp, completely unconscious, and maybe even dead. Andrew stared at him for one horrified, confused moment before his training kicked in and he dropped to the floor next to Angel, checking for a pulse.
Current Mood: crankycranky
lacking in glittertawg on October 22nd, 2007 09:30 pm (UTC)
He was in shock that someone that pissed could still move that fast.
Andrew Wainwright, stealth drunkard.

I'm liking the set up. I'm liking the way you seem to finish a story, and then pick up all the characters, and just shake them a bit before you start the next one. This first chapter is already heading down some dark paths, and I'm liking that too :)
mikes_grrl on October 23rd, 2007 10:07 am (UTC)
I'm glad someone is! ha! I knew this would be an obscure piece.

More dark paths, comin' up!

(and thanks for your encouragement)
(Deleted comment)
lacking in glitter: subtexttawg on December 26th, 2007 01:20 am (UTC)
Of course!