When Duty Isn't Enough
Author: Firebird
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine (although I wish Nick was). Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.
Author's Note: The removal of Nick's intended love interest and the assignment of her intended dialogue to Danny resulted in some interesting implications for their relationship. In this fic I'm going with the writers' original intent of Nick being straight, but I decided to lampshade it, hence Doris and Danny's comments (anyone unfamiliar with the term 'lampshading' should visit .org. Warning: it's internet crack.).
**
"Late night again, Chief?" Doris asked, as she stuck her head around his office door two weeks later.
"You can talk," he responded with a smile. Once he would have worried that her own late nights were, to put it bluntly, due to her trying to get into his pants, but that was the old Doris. The new Doris was a very different woman, and a very different police officer. The look on Andy Wainwright's face the day she had turned on him after he had pinched her arse, calling him a 'prehistoric, sexist dinosaur' and asserting that she was 'twice the police officer' he would ever be, was something which Nick knew he would treasure for many years to come.
The new Doris was a competent and dedicated police officer, and determined to prove it.
"You need to get yourself a girlfriend, Nick," she informed him, perching on the edge of a filing cabinet. Her position and her use of his foreshortened name made it clear that she now considered them both off duty and was speaking to him as a friend rather than a subordinate.
"Doris..."
"Oh, don't look at me like that. I don't mean me."
He nodded, relieved.
"Or a boyfriend, of course."
"Doris!"
This time she laughed out loud. "Well, you can't blame me for wondering. You're always so precise, and you and Danny are so close..."
"We're just friends, Doris. I'm not... that way inclined. Not that there's anything wrong with-"
"Oh, don't get your knickers in a knot. I've known Danny Butterman since we were kids: if he were 'that way inclined' I'd know. It's not as if you can keep anything secret in a place this small."
They were both silent for a moment, thinking about exactly what had been kept secret in Sandford.
"But you're here every night, long after the rest of us have taken off. You need something more, something other than the job."
"Yes, well, that didn't work out so well for me last time."
"If you mean Janine, that was three years ago, and by all accounts it was you who ended it."
"Because I couldn't be the man she needed, the man she deserved. She was always second best." He paused. "Did I tell you she got married? Some guy called Bob, or Dave, or something. I think I met him once."
"Do you wish it was you?"
He thought about that for a moment. "Not really. It's more... it could have been me. If I'd been willing to put her first."
"Well, at least you've realised your mistakes. Now you can avoid repeating them, eh? Or are you planning on spending the rest of your life alone?"
"What if I can't help it, Doris? I've never had a knack for switching off."
"Well, now's a good time to start then, isn't it?" she asked. And, before he could process her intentions, she hopped off her perch, crossed the room, and turned off his computer.
"Doris! Do you have any idea how bad that is for a computer? What if I hadn't saved my work?"
"You always save your work, Nick; that's just you. And some woman out there is going to find that endearing."
She tousled his short hair, and he smiled. "You sure you're not making a play for me?" he teased.
"Well, at least you have a healthy ego," she responded smartly. "That's harassment, you know."
"Oh, and uninvited physical contact and enquiring about my sexual preferences is what?"
"It's called 'friendship', Nick. Tony said something about the pub, if you're up for it."
"Maybe another night."
"Suit yourself. See you tomorrow then."
After she left, Nick sat for a long time staring at the darkened screen in front of him. Maybe Doris was right. The more he thought about it, the more it began to make sense. He had known for months that the late nights weren't born of duty but an attempt to avoid returning once again to his empty cottage and the doubts that it raised. It had started with Janine's letter, and his mixed feelings upon reading it. He had been telling Doris the truth when he said that he wasn't pining for Janine, but he couldn't help wondering, what if it had been him? What if he had someone to come home to, not just for a while, but for the rest of his life? And was willing to make the effort to actually come home to her?
He shook his head and stood. Empty house or not, it was time to leave.
**
The next day was his day off, and for once he had no intention of stopping by the station. Not even for a few minutes. Not even to check whether Doris' actions the previous night had damaged his computer. Because he had better things to do. Really. And so he mooched around the house, washing laundry and cleaning the bathroom.
Danny stopped by just before lunch, when Nick was in the garden.
"Hey, Nick!"
He straightened with a smile. "Hey, Danny."
His first friend in Sandford was looking good. He had slimmed down a bit in the last two years, mostly thanks to cutting back on the cake and ice-cream and getting a lot more exercise as the new chief forced everyone out of their cars and the pub and onto the streets.
"Missed you at the pub last night."
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I just had a few things to think about."
"Doris-related things?" Danny waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"No! God, no. Danny, I'm her Inspector, it'd be completely inappropriate for me to-"
"Inspect 'er?"
Nick groaned at the pun.
"So you've thought about it then, eh?"
"And you haven't? She wasn't exactly Ms. Subtlety, back in the day."
Danny chuckled. "We've all changed a lot, eh? You made us change. We're real police officers now, even the Andys."
"Yeah." Nick nodded. "I'm proud of you all, you know."
"But you're not happy." It wasn't a question, and Danny sat himself down on the front step, suddenly serious. "Doris is worried about you. And, to be honest, so am I."
"I'm fine, Danny."
"Are you sure? You just seem so distant lately. Almost like when you first arrived." A frown flitted across Danny's face. "I know I've been spending a lot of time with Sarah lately...?" he suggested tentatively.
"And I'm happy for you. You've been through a lot: you deserve to be happy."
"Right, right. So what is it then?"
Nick sighed. Danny's investigative skills had improved with experience, but at times he still rushed in with all the subtlety and bumbling enthusiasm of a large and energetic puppy.
"Is it to do with Janine getting married?"
And then showed that he was significantly more perceptive than any puppy.
"Yeah, I guess. It got me thinking: is this it? Is the service all I'm going to have, for the rest of my life? I come home every night to an empty house, I wake up every morning in an empty bed. What happens when I retire? Do I just wither away all by myself?"
"God, you're morbid. You could always go down in a hail of bullets instead."
"I'm morbid?"
"Why don't you ask someone out then? Can't hurt to try, eh?"
"I guess. But there's no-one..."
"You're telling me that with all the attractive single women in this village there isn't a single one that interests you?" Danny paused. "It is women, right?"
"Why does everyone keep asking me that? No, I'm not gay." Humour mixed with exasperation as he recalled having the same conversation less than twenty-four hours previously.
"I was just saying."
"Well, can you do me a favour and spread the word?"
"Might help if you asked someone out. It's not like it has to be love at first sight, eyes meeting across a crowded room and all."
"Have you been expanding your DVD collection?"
Danny shrugged. "Sarah's added a few of her own. Stop trying to change the subject. My point is, find someone and give her a chance. Get to know her, and if she isn't the one for you, try again. It's not like anyone's going to say no to the hero of Sandford."
"See, that's part of the problem, Danny. I don't want a woman who's interested in 'the hero of Sandford'. I want a woman who's interested in me. And, call me old fashioned, but I guess I do want that whole 'eyes across a crowded room' thing. I want love at first sight, I want to feel tongue-tied, I want fireworks, butterflies in my stomach, sweaty hands and a racing heart!"
He stopped, to see Danny staring at him in open admiration.
"I don't think I've heard you that excited since you told the Andys that Leslie Tiller's death was murder. You should write that down, you know. Apart from the bit about sweaty hands, you can leave that out. Women love that stuff." Danny grinned. "Shame you just wasted it on me, eh?"