Disclaimer: I don't own WaT. Nope, nada. Never have.
Another story idea I dreamt about, I tend to do that a lot, and just like every other idea, it wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down .I hope you like it. Love, Brownie.
P.S. please review, I'd like to know what you think whether you loved it, hated it, or thought it was okay.
You Found Me
Chapter 1: No Surprise…Not!
Danny groaned as his phone started blaring "No Surprise" by Daughtry and, even as he blindly reached for his side table in search of it, hoped against hope that it was some wrong number and not work. He almost felt victorious when he found it. Bringing it to his ear, he flipped it open without once opening his eyes and greeted in a groggy voice that came out muffled because of the pillow his face was lying on, "Taylor."
"Danny?" responded Jack, sounding unsure that it was him. 'So much for getting some sleep,' thought Danny as he turned around and pushed himself up until his back was leaning against the headboard. After yawning, as he rubbed his eyes with a closed fist, Danny asked "What's up, Jack?"
"We've got a missing kid who reported that his little brother, who's probably also a missing kid, is missing," informed Jack.
"Whoa, that's a lot of missings for one sentence, Jack," stated Danny as he reluctantly left the warmth of his bed and started shrugging on the Mets t-shirt and worn-out jeans that he'd placed on the chair next to his bed for his first day off since what seemed like forever, which just happened to be today!
"Yeah, I know, that's why we could use your help. I know it's your day off, but…" here he trailed off, something that would appear like the other person was in some sort of surprise, but Danny knew better.
"Yeah, yeah, I know the job doesn't take a day off," Danny obediently repeated what Jack had told him a million times before, with his cell phone placed between his shoulder and his ear as he washed his face in the bathroom sink.
"Thatta boy," said Jack, "I'll see you soon."
"Yep," affirmed Danny before the both of them, with unspoken agreement, hung up on the other. After putting his phone in his jean pocket, he lifted his hands to give his hair the just-rolled-out-of-bed look before looking at the mirror and shrugging, 'I don't have that much time and 'sides it looks more authentic than it ever has before.'
He moved on to brushing his teeth, after which he walked over to his closet and picked out a brown, New York hoodie along with a black overcoat, toed on his tan leather, ASV classic boat shoes, and headed out the door, locking it behind him.
**************************************************************
Motivated by the cold, he made the two mile trek – his shoulders hunched, his hands stuck in his coat pockets, and his face red – in fifteen minutes. Once inside the building, he walked up to one of the security guards, Ivan, and shook his head to get the snow out of his hair, as he greeted him and handed over his weapon and identification, "Hey, Ive."
Smiling, Ivan Sullivan, an elderly man in his fifties, said, "Detective Taylor, how many times have I told you it's Ivan."
Danny knew exactly what to say as it was an ongoing joke between them, "About as many times as I've told you to call me Danny."
"Touché,"
retorted Ivan, handing back the aforementioned objects, "I'll see
you later, Detective Taylor."
"That you will, Ive,"
rejoined Danny as he went through another door and made a beeline for
the elevator, leaving the other man with a smile on his face. He may
not know it, but Danny Taylor had been the only bright spot in the
lonely, old man's life since the dreadful day two years ago, that
his wife had died and he'd moved to New York in hopes of a new
start, and Ivan would be eternally grateful.
**************************************************************
Once he was on their floor, Danny headed for the break room and poured himself a coffee. After looking around to make sure that no one was there, Danny brought the Giants' mug – his mug – up to his nose and just inhaled. He wouldn't admit to it, but a moan of appreciation came out of his mouth.
"Do I need to leave you two alone?" asked Sam, who had been there for God knows how long.
Taking a sip of the coffee, hazelnut and four sugars – he liked his sugar, damn it , as he'd told everyone many times, Danny barely restrained himself from shutting his eyes in pleasure, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Uh huh," said Sam, "Like you weren't just moaning a minute ago."
"No idea what you're talking 'bout," Danny was sticking with that.
"Sure," Sam said as she smirked, "Oh yeah, before I forget, Jack's looking for you in the AV room with Markus."
"All right, thanks for telling me," said Danny as he practically ran out of the room in his haste to leave. Even as she busted out laughing, Sam noticed that Danny had not forgotten his coffee.
**************************************************************
En route to the AV room, Danny made a quick stop at his desk, hung his overcoat over the back of his chair, and then continued on the way – or so that was the plan, but, before he could go through with it, he was intercepted by Martin.
"Hey, Danny," called Martin.
Danny turned around and greeted Martin with a smile, "Was sup, Bro?" He was finally comfortable calling the man that after a year of knowing him. Martin didn't know how old he was, just that he was younger than him, and just like everyone else he'd never bothered to find out; Danny, for one, wanted to keep it that way. Don't get him wrong, he was proud of the fact that he was part of a specialized FBI team at the age of twenty, but the problem was that he really didn't want anyone to treat him differently because of his age and he knew that if they found out that was exactly what would happen.
"Can you take this," Martin help up a piece of tape folded to attach to white cardstock, "fingerprint to Jack, he was asking for it?"
"Whose is it?" asked Danny as he reached his hand out to get it.
"The missing kid: Austin Cummins' fingerprint," answered Martin.
"All righty," said Danny as he raised two fingers to his head and performed a pseudo-salute, he was halfway turned when he heard Martin say, "Thanks, Man."
Completing his turn, Danny looked over his shoulder at Martin as he left and replied, "De nada."
**************************************************************
Exactly three minutes and twenty seconds later, Danny arrived at the AV room. He knew Jack was about to holler at him, so he cut him off, headed for the fingerprint scanner and raised the fingerprint as one would a white flag, "I come bearing gift." With that he peeled the tape open and made to press it down on the scanner, when he somehow got a paper cut. That caused him to jump and, in a rare moment of not acting like a hardcore, trained FBI agent, he stuck his thumb in his mouth. He was therefore surprised when he heard a beeping sound from the computer as the scanner scanned his thumb. 'Huh, I wonder how that happened.'
He removed his thumb from the scanner and turned toward Markus with an apologetic look on his face, "Sorry."
"Nah, it's nothing and it will be over in a minute. I mean it's not like you're a missing kid," assured Markus.
Danny was stopped from continuing his conversation by the sound of Chris Daughtry's voice, "Taylor," he spoke into his phone.
Danny listened to the person on the other end and added, "All right, I'm on my way. Thanks, Viv." After shutting his phone, Danny looked up to see two pairs of eyes, one brown and one blue, staring at him inquisitively and obliged, "Um, that was Viv. She said that Van Doren was looking for me." They all knew he was saying it more for Jack's benefit that Markus'.
"'Kay, I'll see you in a bit," said Jack distractedly as he stared wide eyed at something on the screen that Danny couldn't see since he was on the run.
"Right," said Danny, feeling confused, as he turned and left, leaving Jack and Markus to stare at the picture of a three year kid named Danny Malone whose fingerprints were an exact match to one Danny Taylor.
One thought ran through Jack Malone's head, 'My son,' as he whispered out loud, "Danny."
…TBC…
(If you want me to)
So what do you think? Good, bad, iffy? Should I continue?
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Thanks, hope you like it, love Brownie.
