A/N: Two in one day, a special treat. Yeah, they're both kind of short, so I figured I'd upload to for today. Oh, and this one is wildly AU.

Genre: Suspense/General/Action

Pairings: Church/Donut

Rating: PG-13-ish

Summary: Church, alone in a dark alley except for the people shooting at him, has no protection. Except for Donut.

Warnings: Slight cursing, shooting, slash, that's about it.

Night Out

His pale hand twitched towards where his gun would be, if his fucking ex hadn't stolen it from him. Then shot at him until she was out of ammo and finally tossing it into a lake.

Bitch just couldn't take a joke.

The same could be said for him, and Tucker frequently did tell him that.

This, if he thought hard about it, could explain how he got into his current predicament. Essentially, he could blame everyone else. Of course, he would anyway.

Long story short, things happened that really fucking sucked for Leonard Church. It all involved a spatula, sunny-side-up eggs, lesbian lizards, Tucker's bad sense of humor, and, again, the inability to take a joke.

He didn't even do anything this time.

Regardless, he was stuck in an alley at night, getting shot at with no means as to protect himself. The moon was concealed behind thick clouds; the only illumination was a dirty flickering streetlight not too far off on the sidewalk. His escape path was blocked by the men shooting at him on one side and a brick wall on the other.

Jaw clenched, Church peered over the abandoned cardboard box. A shot rang out, passing too-close-for-comfort and hitting the tin trashcan next to him. He ducked his head back down and cursed underneath his breath.

He was going to fuckin' kill Tucker when he got back. If.

Suddenly, he heard a familiar, (more than) slightly feminine voice talk in a stage whisper: "Simmons, do we have to kill him? I think it's Church, and he's the hot one."

There was an exasperated sigh. Then, "Donut, our orders are to kill him, not leave him alive so you can have some- what does Grif call it?"

"Eye candy," the other man supplied.

"Right, whatever. Besides, I thought you were always drooling over Caboose?"

"Oh, he's just the cute one of the group," he explained. "See, it's this whole series of levels I use to judge a guy's status. Church is a hottie because-"

"Stop," Simmons cut off hurriedly. "Just, stop right there."

"Please can we pretend just this once that we didn't spot a Blue?" he begged desperately.

A beat passed in silence. Finally, with a defeated exhale, Simmons gave his answer.

"Fine. But just this one time, got it, Donut?" There was an excited squeal.

"Thanks, Simmons! I totally owe you."

"Patrol with someone else tomorrow," he requested in a grumbled. "I'm going back to base. Hurry up, and hope Sarge isn't there first."

From his hiding place, Church heard the man's retreating footfalls. He let out the breath he'd been holding, his trigger hand relaxing.

Suddenly, he jumped, feeling fingers brush against his cheek. He looked up into the half shadowed face of a smiling Donut. A lock of blonde hair was fallen in front of a baby blue eye.

"Thanks for that, Donut," Church said. "I'll make it up to you one day."

"No problem, sexy. But, I was thinking that maybe you could pay me back now," Donut told him with a hinting tone, an eye winking on the last word.

Church stood, smirking at the shorter man.

"Sounds good to me," he agreed. "How about in an hour at the bar on Gulch Street?"

"Not too busy?" Donut asked.

"No, not really. I fuckin' hate my team; I'm not too eager to get back to them," he replied.

"It's a date then. See you later, sexy."

With another seductive wink and wave, the blonde turned and sauntered off, hips swaying in a way most other men couldn't imitate. Church grinned at his departing back.