Author's notes: Don't worry I haven't forgotten about my other stories!

Not mine… the characters I mean!

First of all; a few explanations:

This is my first and probably only ever WaT-slash-story. I've read a few Danny-Martin-Stories lately and (although it's taken some getting used to) I kinda like the idea of the two cuties together… ;-)

I think this takes places some time at the end of season four even though I don't know what happens during the second half of the fourth season as the episodes haven't been aired on TV in Germany yet (which I find pretty much annoying…). However, this has to be after the events of endgame/showdown.

I don't now why, but this one only seemed to work out as a D/M-story so if you don't like it or don't like the two boys, don't bother reading. But if you do, please read and review! If you've read one of my stories before you know I really appreciate others taking the time to make a comment:-)

Enjoy

Danny turned over in the bed. Not for the first time that night. Actually he was sure to have turned for maybe the tenth time in about as many minutes. He was now lying turned towards Martin so he could watch his lover as he slept peacefully.

Danny felt anger well up inside him. That wasn't normal.

Normally he would have liked watching Martin sleep. He was usually the first one to fall asleep – almost every night, actually. But normally Danny wouldn't have minded. He just didn't get tired enough as early in the evening as Martin did, even after they'd had sex and Martin would fall asleep within minutes, exhausted, Danny would often stake awake, sometimes he would even get out of bed and walk over to the window. In warmer nights he would open it, sit on the window-still and look down on the moonlit streets. It was enjoyable, especially since he wouldn't have been able to do so back in his own apartment, always afraid that to someone outside he might look like he was about to commit suicide by jumping out the window on the eighth floor.

But tonight Danny had already spend one hour sitting on Martin's window-still, lost in thought, gone to bed, found that he just couldn't sleep – again! – and had got up again, to spent another hour, in front of the TV this time, and finally had gone back to bed again – still unable to relax, though, despite being exhausted from sex, work and all the time he'd spent lying awake at night during the last few days.

And now it was making him angry. Watching Martin sleep peacefully. How could he? And why couldn't Danny?

A look at the alarm-clock on the cup-board next to the bed made Danny groan; less than three hours until he'd have to get up for work again. So little time that it was almost better to totally forget about sleeping and try to get at least some rest in front of the TV. That would keep him from thinking, anyway.

The longer he considered it, the better the option seemed to him. After all, it was better than to lie in bed awake, wondering how the hell it could have come to this. It wasn't like he'd never had sleepless nights before, but mostly those nights had been during those days, years ago, when he'd just quit drinking – for good.

Yet during the previous weeks Danny had developed a real bed case of insomnia, and though he kept trying he couldn't find any convincing reason to explain why. Sure, he did have a lot on his mind, with his brother back in jail, a few tough cases, the shooting, looking after Martin and helping him through his rough times – but hadn't his life always been like that?

Danny couldn't think of any times when he hadn't been worrying over something, some kind of trouble that seemed insolvable, yet over the past ten years those troubles had never been able to keep him awake almost every night for over a week.

He knew everybody was worrying, It wasn't a secret he had trouble sleeping, there was no way he could hide it, especially not from Martin, He looked over at his lover, just the same moment as Martin stirred slightly and gave a tiny snore before falling back to sleeping silently like a baby.

There was nothing else he could do, so Danny got up finally and went into the living-room to keep his mind occupied by a movie rather than staring holes into the ceiling and wondering what was wrong with him.