Danny came into work a good hour late.
His attempt at a discreet entrance was totally destroyed by everyone turning to look at him. Vivian raised an eyebrow, then glanced at Martin pointedly. Martin was, of course, oblivious to her look, but her point was made. Jack was a bit more vocal about making his point.
"Danny, why are you late if Martin made it on time?"
Danny sighed a long-suffering sigh and sat down heavily. "Well, I was caught in traffic because someone decided that I just had to drive his car to work in order to learn how to get from his place to the office. So there I am, sitting smack in the middle of a New York rush hour, while this person took the public transit himself and got here on time. And here's the interesting part: we wouldn't even have had this problem in the first place, if that person hadn't insisted on staying at his flat instead of mine, because my apartment is apparently not good enough for him."
Everyone turned their gaze to Martin. He just smiled beatifically.
Danny's tardiness was quickly forgotten as everyone settled down to work. The morning was a fairly uneventful one. No new cases were called in, and no leads opened up on the old ones. In fact, the most exciting thing to happen all morning was the coffee machine breaking down. Martin frowned at its stubborn refusal to work.
"Guess we'll just have to settle for instant today," Viv said with a shrug, stirring a packet of the tasteless stuff into her mug.
Instant coffee my ass, Martin thought. He only drank the finest Colombian brew.
Danny, from his desk, could see Martin looking around for a solution to the coffee crisis at hand. Danny hunkered down close to his paperwork, hoping that Martin wouldn't spot him. It was needless and silly, though: of course Martin would spot him.
"Danny..." Martin walked over and casually perched on the corner of his desk.
"Yes?"
"The coffee machine's not working."
Danny weighed his options. He could either buy himself more time by playing dumb, or he could win major brownie points by taking the hint.
"Well, I was actually planning to take a break right now. Why don't I run down to the coffee shop for you?" Good god, he was whipped.
He could feel the greater half of the Bureau staring at his back in a fascinated-yet-discreetly-mocking fashion as he walked out. But he didn't really care---because, hello, he was scoring points with the deputy director's son. Unfortunately, the coffee shop was really far away. And it began to rain on his way back. By the time he made it back up to the office, he was absolutely drenched. He could see that many of the agents were now staring at him in an openly mocking manner.
He really couldn't bring himself to give a rat's ass, though. Not when Martin took the still-steaming cup from him with a whispered, "I owe you big time."
He spent the next half hour thinking of creative ways for Martin to repay him. He had just hit upon a particularly interesting idea involving handcuffs and a Popsicle when Jack's phone rang.
They had a possible sighting on an old case. It wasn't very promising, but they had to check out every lead, so Jack sent out Martin and Vivian. Which left the rest of them with nothing to do except review the case and wait for Viv and Martin's report.
Danny began to get bored during his third time reading the file. Jack managed to make it to his fifth. Sam, however, was well into her twelfth reading and was still going strong. Danny drummed his desk on the conference table.
"So..." Jack began. Sam didn't look up. He turned to Danny. "How are things going back home?"
"Oh, good, good. My nephew just became the captain of his soccer team. Took Martin to see one of his games---he got to meet everyone. It was nice."
"I'm glad," Jack replied. For lack of anything else to say, he asked, "So you and Martin, you're doing pretty good?"
Sam chose that moment to look up from the file and tune in. Danny shifted, feeling just a touch awkward. "Yeah, things are good. It takes a little getting used to, you know. Compromises have to be made. It's like we have to rearrange our lives to make them fit together. I have to learn to do stuff his way, like which colour of underwear corresponds to which day of the week."
Jack raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment. He had been with the FBI for a long time, and he didn't get to such a high position by being stupid. He knew when to leave well enough alone.
Danny, meanwhile, was still talking about Martin. "---and he has to learn to watch baseball, while I've got to learn how to set the table just right. I've also gotta remember all our anniversaries and stuff, because there is hell to pay if I forget one." He paused. "It's almost like being married."
"No, it really isn't," Jack assured him. And then Jack and Sam shared a meaningful look over the table. Danny wasn't stupid either. He also knew when not to ask questions, and this would be one of those times. The three of them sat in uncomfortable silence until the phone finally rang.
The sighting had turned out to be false---some kid who'd looked like the one missing. Martin and Vivian returned, and they got back to their paperwork.
The rest of the day passed by without incident. Around five thirty, Jack announced that they could all go home, since it was highly unlikely that anything else would come up. They all got up to leave, grateful that they got through the entire day without having to pull their guns from their holsters (except for around three o'clock, when Sam had used hers to threaten the coffee machine into working. That didn't count. It also didn't work). Danny was making his way to the elevator when he heard a polite cough behind him. He turned. Martin stood there nonchalantly, tapping his foot. Danny cursed himself for forgetting, then hurried back to get Martin's coat for him. He helped him into it, and then pushed his chair in for him. He offered Martin his arm, then looked up to find Sam, Viv, and Jack staring at them. Sam smirked at him, while Viv looked delighted. Jack just looked like he didn't want to know.
Danny was determined to cap off the pleasant day with a pleasant evening. Which was why he drove Martin's car, with Martin on the passenger side, straight to Martin's apartment without being told to. He got out, quickly ran around the front, and opened the door for Martin. Martin graced him with a beaming grin as he got out of the car. He was sooo getting lucky tonight. Danny mentally cheered.
Dinner was a trouble-free affair, highlighted by a particular moment during dessert, when he got to lick whipped cream off of Martin's fingers. That led to some all-around heavy petting, but they broke off at Martin's insistence: the dishes must be cleared within half an hour of usage, or else the food would settle, making them harder to wash.
They were just finishing up when the phone rang. Martin went to answer it. Danny put away the last of the dishes, and entered the living room to hear Martin say, "Yes, Mother, he is."
He turned neatly on his heel and practically ran to lock himself in the bathroom. He then took a shower. A very, very long shower. And then he took a very long time getting dressed. After which he filed each and every one of his toenails very carefully. A long time had passed, but the Fitzgeralds were wealthy enough to afford a lengthy long-distance call, so he tweezed his eyebrows and flossed his teeth meticulously. Finally, he worked up the nerve to leave the safety of the bathroom.
He said several prayers before going into the living room. The phone, praise the Lord, had been hung up. Martin sat on the couch, idly flipping through some computer-nerd magazine. He looked up and offered Danny a warm smile. "Are you busy this Saturday evening?"
Danny thought about the Mets vs. Yankees tickets he had in the left breast pocket of his second-favourite black jacket. "Depends...why?"
"Because my mother invited us to dinner, and we have to go. We've already wormed our way out of three other invitations. If we keep doing it, it could get ugly."
"But---"
"Please? For me?"
Danny really wanted to go to that game. Danny also really wanted to have sex at least a few more times before he died. "Sure. Besides, how bad can it be?"
Those naïve words of his echoed in his head as they rode in the back of a Washington D.C. taxi. More specifically, a Washington D.C. taxi on its way to the Fitzgerald residence. Danny was getting more and more nervous with every tick of the cab metre. It didn't help that Martin was on the phone with his mother, and had been since they got into the cab. "We'll be there in ten minutes, okay? (pause) No, I am not making him come in through the back. (pause) Mother!" There was a longer pause, some murmurs that could've meant yes or no, and then goodbyes. Martin flipped his phone shut while rolling his eyes.
"What's up?"
"My mother wants you to use the service entrance."
"Uh..." Normally, Danny wouldn't put up with crap like that. He was a Hispanic person of an impoverished upbringing who had gone through the system, but he was a success story, dammit. No one had the right to treat him like he was inferior. He was willing to tolerate a lot when it came to Martin, though.
"Don't worry about it. It's best to ignore her when she gets like that. Besides, at the last second, she'll just change her mind anyway, and decide that you're an important guest, and then yell at me for making you use the back entrance."
Martin was right, of course. They showed up at the front door, and his mother immediately rushed out to greet them. "You must be Danny Taylor! So nice to meet you. Please, do come in. Oh, don't worry about your shoes. We're going to get the carpets cleaned soon, anyway." She turned to yell up the staircase, "Victor! Get down here! Where are your manners?"
Danny jumped at the ferocity of her screaming. "Now, dear, why don't you come in and get comfortable," she said with a disturbingly friendly smile, taking Danny by the elbow. Martin followed them in, and his mother snapped at him over her shoulder, "Take those filthy shoes off, young man. I taught you better than that." Great, that's just great, Danny thought. Martin's mom is bipolar.
At dinner, the four of them sat in an awkward silence occasionally broken by the clatter of cutlery. Danny much preferred Mrs. Fitzgerald's mood swings---they were much easier to handle than her husband's decided coldness. Danny wondered how they ever got together, anyway. They seemed to be complete opposites.
"Pass the salt," Victor Fitzgerald commanded. Danny was startled to find that he was talking to him.
"You could at least say please," Martin commented quietly.
His father froze. "What did you say to me?"
Martin didn't answer. The tension dragged on. Mr. Fitzgerald's glare bore into his son, who deliberately ignored it. Danny, left holding the saltshaker in the air, cleared his throat. Victor Fitzgerald grabbed it out of his hand and slammed it onto the table.
Martin's mother spoke up at that. "We do not do that to the dinnerware in this house, and certainly not in front of a guest," she said indignantly.
"A guest?" his father scoffed. "He's no more a guest than some stray Martin dragged off the street to spite me."
"Oh, so that's what this is about, isn't it? You. It's always about you. I couldn't possibly with Danny because I like him, or because I enjoy it, noooo; that would make it about me instead of you," Martin said in his 'I've had enough' voice.
"I find it hard to believe that of all the people in the world whom you might like and enjoy, this is the one you decide to bring home. Now, I took it well enough when you told us that you prefer men over women, but I will not tolerate this! There are plenty of eligible young men out there from respectable families, with high-paying jobs and good values."
Danny looked around for some means to escape. He really didn't want to be sitting in the middle of this. He caught Mrs. Fitzgerald's eye, and she smiled apologetically at him.
Meanwhile, it was now Martin's turn to come up with a scathing reply. "God, is that what it comes down to? You just don't like the fact that Danny isn't some rich dentist who drives an Escalade and lives in a fashionable loft." Martin stopped yelling and continued in a more reasonable tone. "Maybe that's the life you've envisioned for me, Dad, but it's not the life I want. I like Danny. He's sweet and he's thoughtful and he makes me laugh."
"But he's not good enough for you," Victor Fitzgerald insisted.
"Trust me. He is good enough for me, and that should be good enough for you." Martin got up from his place at the table. "Thank you for the wonderful meal, Mother. I'm sorry I had to disrupt it this way. I think it's best if we leave now." He leaned down to kiss her cheek.
He pulled Danny out by his arm. Danny spent the cab ride back to their hotel admiring Martin and resisting the urge to applaud. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Martin had defied one of the scariest men on the FBI payroll! And for what? For him!
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I just can't believe---I'm so sorry I got you into a huge fight with your dad."
Martin sighed. "Don't worry about it. This happens all the time. We always find something to argue about every time I come home. Mother will force him to apologize by tomorrow morning, and everything will be back to normal in time for us to have lunch with them before leaving." He said it nonchalantly, like he was perfectly used to it.
Danny refrained from commenting. And he thought his own family was dysfunctional.
Things happened exactly as Martin said they would. Lunch the next day was free of all tension. Danny thought that everyone would still be a little bit uncomfortable, at least, but it was as though last night's conflict didn't even happen. His father even treated Danny quite civilly.
The next day, Monday, both Martin and Danny showed up at work on time. Which was actually quite surprising, considering how much they dallied in the shower. But Jack didn't need to know that.
Danny sat at his desk, typing. The report he was filling out required only minimal concentration, so he let his mind wander. This led to a smile, because his mind invariably wandered to Martin. God he was hot. And the way he stood up for him at supper that night? That was really hot. Sure, Martin was a little (very) high maintenance, but that was totally worth it. Besides, he liked how he had to work for it. Martin took all the fun of dating and injected it into the stability of a relationship. Because while stability is all well and good, Danny loved a challenge. He loved how he had to bust his ass for Martin every single day. And the payoff was definitely worth it. Martin's exact words were 'he's sweet and he's thoughtful and he makes me laugh,' said defiantly to the scowling face of the deputy director of the FBI. Did he mention that was really hot?
"Danny..." Martin interrupted his thoughts.
"Yes?"
"The coffee machine's broken again." And right on cue, it started raining outside.
Danny smiled to himself and put his coat on.
-end