This might seem a little off the main path but I was going for a "Without A Trace" kinda thing with this story. Hopefully it will make more sense after the next few chapters.

Thank you so much for your reviews!! I'm not ignoring them but I had already written some of these chapters and don't have the time at the moment to fiddle with them.

There are no pairings in this story - these guys are just best friends!

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Flack carefully studied the bruises on his friend's torso and winced in sympathy as he watched him struggle to wrestle his top over his head. He reached out a hand and snagged the bottom of the t-shirt, pulling it all the way down. Danny turned and flashed him an obviously forced leer.

"Flack, you know I ain't that way inclined."

"You aren't my type Messer." Don retorted. "The blond thing you got goin' does nothing for me." He waited for the sarcastic comment or the witty remark but it never came. It never did these days.

"Beer?"

"Yeah."

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They sat in a quiet booth listening to the sounds of the football match coming from the screen nestled in the corner of the bar.

"Been fighting again?" Don tried. But all he got was a non-committal grunt.

"Danny, there isn't anything friendly about those matches you guys keep playing. What are you doing exactly out on that court?"

Danny slowly turned his head to stare at his friend. "Leave it Don."

But Don refused. "Every month, Danny, every month you guys go out on that court and pound the shit out of… why?"

Danny sighed. "At least if they do it on the court they don't do it off the court. See what I'm sayin'?"

Don stared.

"I remember," he started slowly, "when we were still rookies, your apartment was broken into god knows how many times. You've broken your arm, your collarbone, your wrist – twice, and your ribs; and they're what I know about. You must be the unluckiest cop ever in the history of cops." He paused but Danny didn't respond.

Don stared at his friend.

"Just saying it's odd that's all." He raised his hands in mock surrender.

Danny refused to rise to the bait. He knew how Don worked.

Don refused to rise to the bait. He knew how Danny worked.

He shifted sideways to get out of the booth. Stood up to stretch his legs and reached down to slap Danny on the shoulder, "come on boyo, let's get some grub."

Danny couldn't stop the wince as his bruised body absorbed the none-too-gentle blow.

With that Don hauled him bodily out of the booth and dragged him forcibly outside. As soon as they had cleared the doors Don spun around and shoved him hard against the wall.

"What the fuck?! Are you out of your…"

"Am I stupid?" Don yelled. "Do I look stupid to you Messer?"

Shocked into speechlessness Danny just shook his head.

"Do I look stupid to you?" Don yelled again even louder. He shoved at Danny again. "Then for fuck's sake you do something about this or I will, you understand me Messer? We're best friends for crying out loud. What hurts you hurts me. Get it?"

Mutely Danny nodded his head.

Suddenly drained, Don stepped forward and resting his palms against the wall either side of Danny's head, dropped his forehead against his briefly.

"Good." He murmured quietly. "Fine."

Danny finally raised his eyes and studied his best friend. He was deeply moved by what Don had said, but it was something he had come to find very hard to reciprocate, so tried to lighten the moment.

"You're not goin' to try an' kiss me are ya?" He asked, scrunching up his face.

Don laughed out loud and slapped him upside the head, then pulled him into a fierce hug.

Danny, this time, managed to mask the wince.

"I mean it. "Don murmured quietly. "You do something about this or I will."