Pairing: Danny/Martin
Rating: R
Category: Established relationship, episode-based
Archive: Sure
Summary: 'Are You Now or Have You Ever Been' examined through the filter of Martin and Danny's off-work relationship.

It was all going wrong.

Special Agent Martin Fitzgerald stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom and watched the darkness in the room slowly recede. Be time to get up soon. Not the most pleasant thought to someone who had yet to manage more than a doze all night long.

He sighed softly and conceded defeat. No reason to let the alarm disturb the peace. He reached over and switched it off, then slipped out of bed. He stopped when the other occupant rolled over, reaching for him.

Martin smiled fondly. "It's not time to get up yet," he whispered. "Go back to sleep."

"'kay," Danny Taylor muttered, snuggling deeper into his pillow.

No argument from Special Agent Taylor. A red-letter day. Perhaps it would go smoothly after all, but Martin couldn't shake the feeling that things were going to fall apart. He'd had it since the prosecutor had told Martin and his boss, Jack Malone, that Andy Deaver might not do well on the witness stand. Jack hadn't seemed concerned, saying he was certain they could prosecute Spaulding without his victim's testimony, but Martin didn't like it. The way Jack had broken Spaulding in the car bothered him. They hadn't done anything wrong, but it had all been unorthodox enough that knowing they might have to rely on it in court had kept him from sleeping. Nor was he looking forward to talking about it. The entire incident still gave him the shudders.

He walked into the bathroom, brushed his teeth, then climbed into the shower. The hot water flowed over him like a welcome caress, but odds were it wouldn't make him look less like the walking dead. Not much he could do about that. He shaved, washed his hair, then soaped up a washcloth.

The shower door opened and Danny stepped inside. He pulled Martin into his arms, then kissed him hard. Beard stubble scraped his face, but the mouth was minty fresh, proving Danny had taken advantage of the sound of the shower to brush his teeth before pouncing.

Martin appreciated the gesture, although he had no problem with morning-breath as long as it was Danny's, and proved it by kissing back with as much enthusiasm as his sleep-deprived body would allow. Apparently, it wasn't good enough.

Danny drew back and gave him a look. "Why do I think I'm the only one who got a good night's sleep?"

He looked away. "I'm certain the city is full of people who slept well." Lame, but he hated admitting Spaulding and his ilk could get to him.

"Hmm, let's narrow the focus to this shower then."

No, that didn't work for him. He snatched up the shampoo bottle, poured some into his hand, then went to work on Danny's hair. Longer now than when they'd met, Martin approved of the change – gave him more to run his fingers through. Sometimes, in his more delusional moments, he let himself believe Danny had grown it out for him.

"You're trying to distract me," Danny muttered.

"Mmm. Is it working?"

Danny let him rub awhile longer, then he moved more fully into the water stream to rinse. "No," he answered once bubbles in his eyes were no longer an issue.

Damn. "Danny-"

"I thought we'd agreed that you were going to wake me up when you have a bad night."

Martin looked away again. More like Danny had decreed and Martin had refrained from comment. Couldn't think of a faster way to take the bloom off his appeal as a fuck buddy than to make Danny suffer along with his frequent bouts of insomnia. Finally, he shrugged. "You were tired, I wasn't."

Danny stared at him for a moment while Martin silently pleaded with him to drop it. For once things went his way as Danny signaled his agreement by picking up the washcloth Martin had set aside. Danny warmed it in the water, added more soap, then began to rub it over Martin's body.

He moaned softly. Never could get enough of Danny's touch. It made him feel alive like nothing else did. Some of his exhaustion fell away and his body began to respond. Danny made a point of lingering on his arousal, and Martin had to smile. "I think it's clean now."

"One can never be too clean," Danny told him, giving Martin's cock one last caress. "Now, turn around and let me do your back."

His pulse began to race and he stole another kiss before he let Danny turn him.

True to his word, Danny washed Martin's back and every other bit of skin within reach. Bastard left Martin standing there panting while the sounds behind him indicated Danny was taking a second to wash himself off as well. Martin wondered if it was pathological to resent a washcloth, then shuddered as warm lips brushed against his right shoulder. "Danny."

He felt the grin against his skin. "You want something, Fitzie?"

Yeah, he wanted Danny to make wild, passionate love to him, but he'd learned long ago to settle for what life gave him. "Fuck me," he said, well beyond a time where he could pretend he thought there wasn't a difference. "Make me feel you every time I sit down today."

Danny chuckled. "I can do that."

Yeah. He'd even made a good start on it last night. They always fucked before Danny slept over. Martin often wondered what it would be like to be in a relationship where they would crawl into bed when they were too tired to so much as kiss goodnight. Wasn't going to happen with this man no matter how much he might want it otherwise. He cried out as Danny thrust into him and did what he always did, let the pleasure wash through him until he couldn't think anymore.

Not the best solution, but the only one he had.

The day had started well enough. No, scratch that. It had started out with Martin doing his usual nonsense of suffering alone while he snored away. Danny didn't like that. If nothing else, he was always up for any excuse to make the annoying shit pass out from exhaustion. But such was the mind of a Fitzgerald that Martin would rather play martyr and make Danny feel guilty for being able to sleep.

Despite the glow from the sex and a lead on an old case, his irritation with Martin lingered. He hadn't managed to shake it when Martin returned from court. He could tell things had gone wrong from his face, but he was surprised at the cause. Andy Deaver's testimony had been excluded on the grounds of competency. Hard to imagine ever being that scared. If it had happened to him, Danny would have wanted revenge at least as much as he'd have wanted to make certain the bastard was off the streets.

Without Andy's testimony things got shakier. Which dinged his guilt over the mess he'd made of things. Damnit, he should never have taken that photo album. Wonderful piece of hindsight. At the time it had seemed like the right thing to do. He still wasn't entirely certain it hadn't been. All in all he'd feel a lot better if the over-privileged kid hadn't wimped out or if Martin had more faith in what had happened in the car.

Yet another thing he'd never gotten Martin to talk to him about. Danny knew it had creeped Martin out enough to make him wake up in more than one cold sweat, but he wouldn't give up the details. Didn't make Danny feel all warm and fuzzy inside to think a judge would finally get to hear what he'd been refused. Or maybe Martin would just be another over-grown, over-privileged brat cracking on the stand.

Shit. He hated how he got when he felt guilty and annoyed. He tried to get a handle on it and figure out how to comfort Martin in the middle of the office, but before he could do either, Jack dropped the OPR investigation bombshell on them. It seemed a shared shower before dawn had been the highlight of the day.

If Martin had sat down and deliberately designed a rotten day, he doubted he could have come up with anything to top this one. Yes, he'd had a bad feeling about the Spaulding case, but he hadn't come close to imagining the truth of it.

A year. He'd been on the team for a year, but Jack didn't trust him to back him up.

He could understand why Jack might have opted not to trust him when Andy had disappeared. Martin hadn't been on the squad for more than two months. Both of them were learning about the other then. But after a year nothing had changed. Jack still hadn't decided to trust him. Worse thing was Martin didn't even know if Jack had been right.

How could he know now what he would have done? Last fall or this afternoon? He thought he would have gone along with Jack, ignored the patrolman's call saying Spaulding had asked for a lawyer and pressed until Spaulding told them where Andy was. But Jack had stolen the choice from him by not telling him about the call. Then he'd let Martin get on the witness stand and swear the suspect had never mentioned a lawyer.

Everyone in that courtroom had assumed Martin had perjured himself. And he might have chosen to do so, but as it stood he was a fool, not a liar. It did not put him in the best of moods when he returned to office. He wanted to strangle Jack. Wouldn't help anything, but it would make him feel a lot better.

"Tough day in court, huh?" Danny asked.

That was one way to put it. "Yeah, thanks to Jack."

"Well, that's nice. Is that what you told Farrell?"

Farrell? Martin had been so caught up in the case he'd managed to forget about the OPR investigation. He neither liked the reminder nor Danny's tone. "You should be careful what you say."

"Well, that's good advice," Danny said, and Martin dared think that was the end of it, but it wasn't his day for anything remotely resembling luck. "Maybe you should have taken it before you went into Farrell's office and ratted me out."

Something must be wrong with his ears. He couldn't be hearing this. "Ratted you out?"

"How did he find out I roughed up Radio, huh?"

"I didn't say a word about that." No longer caring to give Danny the advantage of the high ground, he stood up.

"Right."

"Oh, come on, Danny. You only bragged to half the office about it. How the hell do you think he heard?" He did not need this. Not today. His strained temper decided it was time to attack, "And by the way, we lose Spaulding, you can take some credit for that."

The jerk actually dared to look confused. "Excuse me?"

Fine, if Danny wanted him to spell it out, Martin could do that. "If you hadn't gone into his house and grabbed those pictures without a warrant, we wouldn't be under half the scrutiny that we're under right now."

"Why don't you ask your father why we're under this scrutiny?"

What? Where had that come from? "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the free ride you get around here. Everybody knows-"

No. Danny couldn't be saying this. Not when Martin could still feel him inside his body. "Give me a break."

But Danny wouldn't stop. "Everybody knows that the OPR doesn't just randomly select its targets. Somebody sicked that little dog on Jack and if you ask me there's a certain deputy director in Washington who knows exactly why."

Martin watched him walk away and felt the symbolism like a slap. So just like that it was over between them. It didn't even hurt. He was too angry and he'd been expecting it for too long.

The work day mercifully over as far as Martin was concerned, he headed for the door, then caught a cab for the airport. Danny might be a bastard, but his advice was good. Time to talk to his father. Oh, joy.

Danny let himself into Martin's apartment, all the time muttering about spoiled, rich brats who thought sulking was the answer to a problem. Danny hadn't been pleased to come back from his fast walk around the building to find Martin had gone. Typical. He does his best to cool off enough to deal with the situation and Mr. Silver Spoon goes missing.

It had taken a couple of hours for his temper to fade enough to start calling. No answer beyond Martin's answering machine. The bastard was screening his calls. After the fourth chorus of 'you have reached,' Danny had decided an in-person recitation of Martin's faults was due.

Not wanting to give Martin a chance to leave him standing on the street, Danny had shamelessly exploited both his flirtatious nature and his frequent presence in the building to charm his way through the door on the coattails of another tenant, who should have known better. The apartment door itself gave way to a set of skills picked up in his younger days.

His reward for all his efforts was an empty, dark apartment. Danny stood for a moment glaring at nothing in particular, then a faint blinking light attracted his attention. The answering machine. He hesitated a moment, then shoved aside a brief, inconvenient impulse to respect Martin's privacy and hit play.

Nothing but his messages demanding that Martin stop screwing around and pick up the phone. He winced at the tone of even the first one and the others only got worse. So much for righteous indignation. He wouldn't have picked up the phone either. But it was a moot point. As he looked around it became obvious Martin hadn't been home since they'd left together.

It didn't take a genius to figure out where he'd gone. Martin had picked a hell of a time to start listening to him. Danny's advice and a face-to-face confrontation with Victor Fitzgerald. Suddenly it sank in how rotten Martin's day had been and would continue to be thanks to Danny. Shit.

He sat down on the sofa. The least he could do was wait for him, and maybe while he did he could stop trying to find someone to pin his own woes on and figure out what he was going to do about this OPR crap.

Martin left his father and knew he couldn't face a crowded flight home. He opted for a night in an airport motel and an early morning flight. Fortunately, he always kept a spare suit in his locker at work so he managed to look presentable for court the next day.

He didn't know what to expect when Jack took the stand, then didn't know how to feel when he told the truth about knowing Spaulding had requested a lawyer. Jack had cleared him from the taint of suspected perjury, but he'd also destroyed their case.

A part of him was proud of Jack, but it felt presumptuous. After all, he was the guy Jack hadn't trusted in the first or the second place. Sometimes he felt like he was on the same one-way street with Jack that he traveled with his father. And with Danny. Was it so much to ask for just one person to think he was worth something? Maybe even a moment's trust?

At peace with the answers he'd found alone in Martin's apartment, Danny was ready to turn his full attention on his lover when he finally showed up at the office. He didn't like what he saw. Danny doubted Martin had gotten any more sleep last night than he had the night before, but he had to admit Martin hid it well. Probably part of his Fitzgerald training. Always keep up appearances. Fine for the masses, but he didn't like that same 'I'm okay, nothing to see here, move on' mask turned on him. Even if he did deserve it.

He hated how much time had passed since he'd made an ass out of himself. Hated it even more that he had to apologize, but such were the woes of a relationship worth having.

A quiet corner to whisper what an idiot he'd been and how much he wanted to make it up to Martin would have been number one on his list of Great Things to Happen. Fat chance. Ah, well they were guys, so he settled on a more obscure request for forgiveness. "Martin, when this is all over and you and I are looking for our next gig, I just want you to know I think we make a hell of a team."

Martin looked at him. "What, selling shoes?"

"Shoes, boots, pumps, whatever."

He smiled and accepted the apology, "Sounds good to me."

Danny grinned. It was all going to be okay.

From fair-haired boy to scapegoat in one conversation. One thing about being his father's son, it made certain life was never boring. Martin knew a letter of reprimand in his file was better than Jack losing his job, but both offended his sense of justice. Especially the letter. It would have nothing to do with how he had or hadn't handled the Zamir case. It had everything to do with who he was.

The initial notion of going after him had come from his being a young nobody. But he wasn't, so it had turned into a witch hunt for Jack. Martin's great victory in all of this had been to pull things back down on his own head. Because he was a Fitzgerald, he'd get a letter, not a pink slip. All about who he was, not about what he'd done. As far as he could tell, the investigation had never focused on what had happened. It all left a very sour taste in his mouth.

He wanted to go home and drown his sorrows in a glass of scotch, but the ID of a body turned a cold case into a red hot one. Amazing how an autopsy report could make everything fall into place. Within six hours of getting it, they'd made an arrest. Another dubious triumph. Justice at last for the poor dead girl, closure for her parents, but it didn't make her any less dead.

All and all he was far from in the mood for a late night round of drinks. But Danny wouldn't let him escape, and given he'd apologized, Martin couldn't see making an issue of not wanting to spend what was left of the evening with his co-workers.

Big mistake. Especially since Jack had declined to join them. Perks of being the boss. So he found himself all alone when he discovered that somehow while he had been finding out how little everyone thought of him, Danny, Sam and Vivian had been bonding. He'd not felt this much like an outsider since his first days in New York. They were sitting there celebrating their triumph over the OPR while somewhere someone was writing a letter damning his conduct. He told himself they didn't know and couldn't think of a single reason to humiliate himself even further by telling them. Hell, they'd probably cluck a little in sympathy, then make a few not so subtle comments about him deserving it. And maybe he did. He was too tired to know anymore.

God, he ached for sleep, yet he knew he only had another sleepless night ahead of him. But Danny had given him an oblique apology. Maybe he might want to come home with him and wear him out enough for him to pass out from exhaustion. He was trying to convince himself that was a good idea when he finally noticed the waitress and how much Danny appreciated her.

For two drinks all around, he watched them flirt and let it sink into his bones what a complete and utter fool he was. She refilled Danny's water glass for the fourth time, giving him an extra special view of her cleavage, and Martin decided enough was enough.

He muttered his excuses and went to the men's room. Cold water on his face helped center him and he looked into the mirror to stare at the world-class idiot. He'd known from the beginning he wasn't the only one Danny kept company with. He'd also known he had to be the most troublesome of Danny's bedmates. Yet all the time he'd told himself he could handle the competition and the inevitable request he withdraw from the contest, a part of him had believed he could win. But he couldn't. There would always be another waitress, another comment about 'the free ride' he got.

One other very important thing occurred to him. He absolutely did not want to spend another second thinking in the men's room of a bar he hadn't wanted to go to in the first place.

His co-workers at a table without a line of sight to the front door, he made it outside without an awkward conversation. His next stop was the car rental agency around the corner. A common port of call for agents who didn't keep cars in the city, he took possession of a Toyota with impressive speed.

He hadn't even made it out of the city when his cell phone rang. He sighed. Might as well get it over with. "Yeah?"

"Did you miss the part where I apologized and you accepted? Or did I hallucinate that?"

Given Martin had snuck out of the bar without a word, he knew Danny had a right to his anger, but it irritated him anyway. "Danny," he snapped, then cursed and slammed the breaks when a cab cut him off. He didn't even notice the phone had fallen from his hand until he heard Danny's voice calling to him from somewhere on the floor.

It took a few moments to get an opportunity to snag it. By then the voice had an almost frantic edge to it.

"I'm fine."

Silence and he could almost hear Danny regrouping his thoughts. "Fitzie, where are you?"

"Danny, let's not do this."

"Baby, you've had two scotches on an empty stomach, and you haven't been sleeping. You really think it's a good idea to be driving?"

Ah, the sweet smell of guilt. At least it explained the 'warm, fuzzy' voice. "What I shouldn't be doing is talking on the phone."

"Damnit, Martin, pull over and let me come get you."

He sighed. "Look, Danny, I appreciate the concern, but I need to go and you need to find yourself a fuck buddy you actually like."

"Wha-?"

He switched off the phone. Against procedure, but at least he would have earned any reprimand. Be a refreshing change. A very refreshing change.

Danny fumed through the first half-hour of Martin's disappearance. Well, maybe the first hour. He wasn't really certain when Martin had opted to duck out on them. Time flowed differently in a bar. It was one of the things he enjoyed about them even if he didn't drink. All he knew was one minute they were all having a good time, and the next they'd realized Martin had never come back from the men's room.

There was a good moment or two of blind panic given they all had more than one case under their belts where someone had vanished from a crowded bar. But they'd quickly discovered he'd walked out alone and under his own power.

A bitch session covering each and every flaw of Martin Fitzgerald had naturally followed. At the height of it, Danny snatched out his phone and called him.

By the time Martin hung up on him, Danny felt sick to his stomach both from the worry and hearing exactly where Martin thought he rated with him. God, Danny had seriously screwed things up if Martin didn't even think Danny liked him.

He stood up and threw a couple of bills on the table.

"You called him 'baby,'" Vivian said, her voice cutting into his panic.

"And how do you know he hasn't been sleeping?" Sam asked.

Damn. A couple of lies flashed through his mind, but lying implied he was ashamed of sleeping with Martin. No, no lies. "We've been lovers since San Diego."

He expected one of several reactions up to and including an exchange of money to settle a bet. What he hadn't expected were the two indignant looks all but pinning him to the wall. "What?" he demanded again.

"Let me get this straight," Vivian said. "You've been sleeping with him for months, but you accused him of being involved in trying to get Jack fired? And of informing on you."

He flinched. He guessed it was too much to hope for that no one had overheard their argument. "I apologized."

"So you said." She was obviously not impressed.

Sam decided to favor him with her two cents. "And let's not forget the part where you spent the evening ogling the waitress."

"That doesn't mean anything," he protested. It was his nature to flirt and appreciate beauty. "Martin knows that."

Sam snorted.

Vivian said, "Which would explain why he's sitting here looking at you with adoration in his eyes."

Right. Danny sighed. "Excuse me, ladies. I have a missing person to track down."

A lot of luck and even more coffee got Martin to his beach house before dawn. He'd always loved the place and it had been his refuge during more than one personal crisis. Maybe he could sleep here.

He was so tired he had to consciously think about it to get his body to climb out of the car. He didn't even try to make it to his room, collapsing on the sofa instead. Despite the caffeine, he thought he might have dozed a few minutes here and there, but he was all too aware of the approaching dawn. When the sunlight had filled the living room, he gave up and took a shower.

The closet was full. He'd always found it easier than packing whenever he got the whim to come up here. Sort of made it one of the few places where he was willing to admit he did indeed possess Danny's proverbial silver spoon. He pulled on a pair of well-worn black jeans and a cream colored cable-knit sweater. Be too warm in a few hours, but exhaustion had lowered his metabolism and even in the city the nip of fall made the mornings brisk. He still left his feet bare.

The pleasure of walking barefoot in the sand was something he didn't forego on far colder mornings than this one. He went out the back door intent on doing his usual three-mile walk. He didn't get more than twenty feet. The temperature didn't stop him, but he was far too tired to deal with the resistance of the sand.

With a sigh he sank down onto the beach, then buried his feet in the sand to keep them warm. Guess he was going to do his thinking right here. He stared out at the water and smiled faintly. At least the ambiance was better than a men's room. But it didn't seem to help more than urinals or driving. He knew he stood at a crossroads, but he couldn't move.

Couldn't let himself think the smart thing to do was trade his resignation for the letter of reprimand and start over someplace else. But it felt too much like quitting and he wasn't a quitter. Fitzgeralds weren't quitters. He almost laughed. At last, a chance to be first at something. It was almost worth chucking it all to become a dancer in a gay bar. Which might be another first, but with his family one could never be certain.

He let himself drift with the amusement and another hour or so must have passed before he came sharply back to awareness as Danny sat down beside him. Surprise made him ask, "How did you fi-?" He clamped down on the question.

Danny grinned. "Well, I do this sort of thing for a living."

"So you do." The house was in his name and he'd used his credit card to fill the tank and buy coffee more than once along the road. Not exactly a difficult trail to follow. "Why'd you bother?"

"Needed to tell you a few things and you turned off your cell."

"Taking hints isn't your strong suit."

"I find selective denseness can be useful."

He sighed. "So talk."

Danny got an uncomfortable look on his face like he'd hoped Martin would give him a fight and delay things. "Okay, first, I'm sorry. I was a jerk and I don't really think you get a free ride."

He laughed, a short joyless sound. "Of course, I do. It's all just like you always said it was. Even the part about me getting the job because of my dad."

Danny shook his head and Martin almost laughed again at the absurdity of it all. Here he was admitting it at long last and Danny wouldn't stop arguing with him. "You earned the job, Martin."

"Didn't say I didn't," he snapped, then sighed. "Every move I make is all about being a Fitzgerald. I got the spot on Jack's team because of my father. I know that, but if I hadn't gotten it, it would have been for the same reason."

"Ah, overlooked to avoid the appearance of favoritism."

"Yes." Because he had earned the spot. "Know what I don't know?"

"No."

"Whether or not I screwed up with Zamir." He would have been really happy to get a definitive, instead of a political, answer. No matter what way it went.

"I think we all did what we thought was right at the time and the rest is all crap."

So it was. Dumbest thing he'd ever done was to not take his mother's advice to avoid a career with the FBI. Trouble was he'd never wanted to do anything else. Well that closed off one fork in his crossroads. No resignation. And no transfer. If he wasn't a quitter, he wasn't a quitter. Besides the letter going into his file wouldn't exactly enhance his resume. "I can't even request a transfer," he sighed.

"What?"

Not the 'oh, no, Martin, don't leave' he might have hoped for, but disappointment had been his middle name for a long time. "Letter of reprimand." He said it with a shrug as if it were no big deal to him.

"I'm sorry. You don't deserve it."

Perhaps. He'd never know for certain.

"But that was an expression of surprise not a question. Why would you want a transfer?"

Let him count the ways, starting with what a pleasant change it would be to work with people who actually wanted to work with him. Which was unfair to his current team. It wasn't like they'd treated him any differently than any other. "I don't."

He expected Danny to blow up at him, start another rant about his always keeping things inside, but he didn't. Danny sat quietly for a moment or two, then said, "When we realized you'd given us the slip, we started making a list of all your shortcomings. Things like you eat cheeseburgers for breakfast and cereal for an afternoon snack."

Martin almost smiled. "Somehow I think that was your contribution."

"Well, yeah. It's unnatural." Danny gave him one of his charming grins. "Anyway, Sam hates how you look bettering in blue than she does. Vivian doesn't like the newer versions of your haircut. You seeing the pattern here, Fitzie? No comments about you not doing the job or being a pain to work with. Just friends beings snide about friends."

A comment about 'with friends like them' drifted through his mind, but it didn't settle. "Is that what we are Danny, friends?"

"That's how Sam and Viv would describe you."

"And you?"

Danny shifted around so he was facing Martin. "Me? I'm a jerk who hasn't done much to earn the right, but you're my lover." He reached out and touched Martin's face with a gentle caress. "Give me another chance, baby. I'll get it right this time."

Despite the little voice inside his head warning him he'd played the fool for too long already, Martin leaned into the touch. God, he loved this man. Needed him. But the voice demanded its due. "The waitress part of your idea of getting it right?"

"No, that was just a useful job skill spilling over into my off-hours time. Never meant it to hurt or threaten you." Danny gave him a gentle smile. "There hasn't been anyone but you for almost three months."

A warm sizzle swept up Martin's spine. Three months? He'd known they'd been spending a lot of nights together, but he'd assumed Danny hadn't been sleeping alone when they were apart. "Danny?"

Lips pressed against his in a brief, undemanding touch. "I got pissed off yesterday because you didn't wake me up and it all sort of snowballed from there." His head tilted so their foreheads rested together. "But I guess I haven't done much to earn you opening up to me."

He sounded so sad. "Danny-"

Another gentle kiss silenced him. "What I'm trying to tell you is that I trust you, that I know you earned your job, but I've got a temper and I tend to go for blood when it gets out of control." He drew back to give Martin a sad smile. "I can't even promise I won't do it again."

Martin could hear defeat in his voice and knew Danny was talking himself to a point where he'd decide Martin would be better off if they called it quits. The crossroads loomed again. A rocky path with Danny or a smooth road alone, he had to chose. Crossroads, hell. He was on the edge of a cliff and no matter what direction he stepped, he was in for a long hard fall. All the worse if he fell alone. He had no thought beyond that when he opened his mouth and whispered, "I love you."

Danny's eyes widened and for once it seemed words failed him. Not a good sign.

Oh, God. "I'm sorry. I don't know why-. Exhaustion makes me crazy. And caffeine. Always makes me babble. Drank a lot of coffee on the drive up. I." His brain finally caught up with his mouth and shut him up. He drew his legs up tight against his chest and his head dropped until his forehead rested against his knees.

"Hey, it's okay."

Sure it was.

He heard Danny shift, then long legs framed him and arms drew him back against Danny's torso. "I love you, too."

No, he didn't, but what could Danny say beyond that or goodbye? Martin started making silent bargains with higher powers. He'd never put Danny on the spot like that again if Danny would stay with him. For the night, the weekend, the month – he'd take what he could get and be glad of it.

"Somehow I'd hoped for a better reaction than something between panic and misery."

He was blowing it, but he didn't know what to do. "I'm tired."

"I know you are, baby." Danny's lips pressed against his temple. "You need to sleep."

Yes, he did, but he hadn't managed to reach the passing out point yet. He supposed he should go lie down again. Maybe it would help this time. If nothing else, it would get him out of this awkward conversation.

With a grunt, he stood up. Never would have made it upright, let alone stayed there if Danny hadn't helped him. "Thanks," he muttered.

Danny gave him a look that suggested he'd be yelling at him for getting himself into such a state if Danny weren't doing his best to atone for his sins. "No problem." It might have been more convincing if Danny hadn't hissed it through clenched teeth. "Let's get you inside."

With the effort of getting vertical behind him, Martin could have made the trip to his bedroom without any help, but Danny's arm around his waist felt good so he kept his mouth shut and even leaned into Danny's hold.

All too soon they reach the bed. Danny stripped off Martin's jeans and sweater, then got him under the covers with all the efficiency of a father dealing with a sleepy toddler. Not the sexiest image Martin had ever called to mind, but he had to smile at how well it fit. "You'll make a great father," he said.

Danny raised an eyebrow as he shed his own clothes. "You offering to have my baby, Fitzie?"

The melancholy returned. He always had been prone to mood swings when overly tired. "Just one of the many things I can't give you."

"So we get a dog," Danny answered, climbing into the bed.

Martin frowned. "We're not home enough to get a dog."

Danny signed theatrically and pulled Martin into his arms. "Go. To. Sleep."

Martin considered arguing out of the pure principle of the thing. Then he was too busy sleeping to think of anything.

Sleeping had never been a problem for Danny so he'd fallen asleep shortly after Martin and slept a good six hours before his internal clock decided to get cranky about the daytime slumber thing.

Figuring Martin would probably be out of it for at least another few hours, he got out of bed and glared at the clothes he'd discarded on the floor. He'd already spent far too long in those. On the other hand, Martin was too short for Danny to get away with wearing anything of his for more than laughs. Nothing for it then, but to put on his rumpled suit and go shopping.

A fast trip to a strip mall he'd spotted on his drive in netted him a couple of changes of clothes and a late lunch which he ate on the drive back. Last thing this mess needed was for Martin to wake up and find him gone. To his relief, when he walked back into the bedroom, it looked like Martin hadn't so much as twitched in his sleep.

Finally they'd caught a break. One Danny hadn't earned since the idea of leaving a note to explain his absence hadn't occurred to him until he was walking into the store. He really needed to work on his relationship skills. What a pain.

He paused in the doorway to scowl at Martin and thought dark thoughts about how complicated Fitzie made his life. Good thing he was worth it. Otherwise, Danny figured he'd be facing 15-years to life in the state pen for strangling a federal agent.

A shower washed away too many hours since the last one and a change of clothes lightened his mood. An exploration of the house netted the prize of a collection of first edition mysteries. He picked out a good one, then carefully settled on the bed to read while he waited for Sleeping Beauty to wake up.

When Martin finally opened his eyes, the sun had set and Danny's empty stomach tried very hard to distract him from ravishing Fitzie into a more wide-awake state of being. But Danny triumphed and Martin rewarded him with dinner at the nicest restaurant in the area. They did not talk anymore about their faults or the hazards of a relationship.

Instead they concentrated on enjoying each other's company while Danny worked even harder to relax and let Martin spend money without having to endure snide comments from him.

Danny figured they were both trying too hard, but Martin needed to let him know he was indeed a Fitzgerald and Danny needed to make it clear he knew that and liked him anyway. Somehow it worked enough Danny thought Martin might even believe in them at least a little by the time they turned in Danny's rental car at the local outlet so they could drive back to the city together. Danny made a point of staying the night.

The next night he went from work to the store before heading back to Martin's apartment. He held up his water-logged prize when Martin opened the door.

Martin gave him something between a blank and puzzled look. "Goldfish?"

"Not just mere goldfish," Danny announced, setting the fish bowl on the end table. "Meet Danny and Martin Junior."

Danny decided perplexed was a good look on Martin, then decided to take pity on him. "You said we weren't home often enough to get a dog," he reminded him of a conversation that was probably buried under seven layers of sleep-deprived fog.

He watched confusion give way to understanding in Martin's beautiful eyes, then his arms were full of handsome Fitzgerald. Just to make certain Martin hadn't missed the underlying message, Danny said, "I love you."

"I love you, too." No argument, and if he didn't see belief in Martin's eyes, he thought he saw a willingness to try.

Danny's heart begin to beat loudly as he moved to kiss Martin. They really might have a chance.

Epilogue: Three weeks later

Blood. So much blood.

Martin's eyes snapped open and he stifled a groan. Every single time he tried to drift off he found himself watching the paramedics loading Sam into the ambulance again. Worse, the one time he'd managed to reach dreamland, it was Danny, not Sam on the stretcher, his wound obviously fatal instead of a through-and-through the leg shot.

The horror of such a sight had jerked him awake and seemed intent on keeping him that way.

He gave Danny a longing look. He looked so peaceful, but Martin wanted to be held, needed it. He started to reach for the nearest shoulder, then stopped himself.

Looking for the kidnapped woman had wiped Danny out as much as the hostage crisis had drained Martin. They both needed sleep with so few hours until the workday began. What good did it do for both of them to spend the day in an exhausted haze?

He drew back his hand. No, no one liked being dragged out of a sound sleep, especially one so desperately needed. He'd let Danny sleep and they could talk in the morning.

Or rather they could fight in the morning. Danny would be angry when he saw the dark shadows under Martin's eyes. He kept saying he wanted Martin to wake him up, but he couldn't possibly really want him to do it. Could he?

Martin worried his lower lip for a few minutes. Things had been going so well between them. Danny had all but lived here since they'd returned from the beach house. Martin thought they might even be ready to officially declare themselves roommates and get rid of Danny's apartment. He desperately didn't want to mess things up now. But what would do it? Taking his lover at his word or coming off as too needy and selfish when Danny needed his sleep?

'I love you.' Danny had said the words a lot in the last few weeks. Martin had come to believe them. Or at least almost. He frowned. Either Danny said what he meant or it was all pretty words without substance. Time to find out. And at least then they could have the fight over something Danny had said versus what Martin hadn't done.

He touched the beckoning shoulder. "Danny? Danny, wake up."

"Mmm?" Danny rolled over and reached for him in his usual morning ritual.

Not one to waste a moment, Martin didn't resist and settled against him. "Danny?"

"Umm? Morning already?"

"No, not even close." Here goes nothing. "I can't sleep."

Danny sighed, but pulled him closer and in a groggy voice asked, "So what's wrong?"

End

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