|Drache-Königin (edincoat) wrote in makrothumia,|
@ 2009-01-11 03:22:00
|Entry tags:||ff-fandom: without a trace, ff-length: 500 to 1k, ff-rating: all, ff-type: slash|
wat/ spatial disturbance
Title: spatial disturbance
Author: Kjata (makrothumia)
Characters & Pairings: Danny Taylor/Martin Fitzgerald
Fandom: Without A Trace
Rating & Warnings: PG
Theme & Community: August 19th 08, Bang, bang, blame, 31_days
Disclaimer: Characters, Setting, and Original Content that this fic is based upon belongs to those who own them - Namely, anyone but me.
Original Post: here
Mister Jonathan Percy Tennyson sits primly on the hard metal chair in the interrogation room, radiating confidence, patience, and above all, nobility. He does not fidget, does not look anywhere but at the person speaking to him, is nothing but polite to every agent who walks in to interrogate him and then walks away in disgust.
He and Martin look inside the room through one-way glass, and listen to Jack through cellular phone tell them what they've just found at the man's house. It's enough to convict, if they can get a method of behaviour established. If they can get him to lose his cool just once and maybe try to kill some agents using his bare hands, they'll have a case.
Click goes the phone line, and they silently watch another agent flounder in the flat gaze of a serial killer who irons his shirts every morning.
Martin removes his gun from his holster, puts it on the table against the far wall. Reaches over to take Danny’s gun too, and do the same.
"You have something in mind," he says.
"Follow my lead," Martin replies.
If this is a lead to follow, he isn't very impressed. Small talk about the man's church, asking about the people he killed as if he hadn't laid a hand on them. All he sees is that Martin is making the guy like him, a lot, and that if he has a bombshell to drop that breaks composure, he hasn't a clue about what it's going to be.
"So, Agent Fitzgerald--"
"Call me Martin."
A smile, just a little one. "So, Martin, are you married yet?"
His friend matches the smile exactly, makes him wonder what he had to exactly learn growing up as the son of the Deputy Director. Martin shrugs, tilts his head to the side, leans in all conspiring like.
"I would be, but they won't let us."
Tennyson frowns, tilts his head at the exact same angle as Martin, leans in as well. "But, why not?"
"They say the union isn't sacred, or some other nonsense," he says, waving a dismissive hand. "We're willing to wait them out, though."
And then he places that dismissive hand on Danny's thigh, closer to the groin than not, and spreads his fingers. Looks up at him and just smiles brilliantly, almost as if he loves him, and shifts closer.
Tennyson looks shell-shocked in the corner of his eye, and he leans in to brace himself at the back of Martin's chair with one hand. Is glad he decided to perch on the table instead of sit in a chair like a normal person, because then he wouldn't be able to do this.
"We'll wait forever, won't we?" Martin says, a little breathless and oh god he is good.
He gives his best wicked smile, and leans in to hover next to his best friend's cheek. "As long as it takes, babe."
Their suspect twitches, and they ignore him, Martin leaning in to the soft kiss that he’s planting on his jaw as if this was a normal thing for them. Tennyson says something really, really low in his throat, and he says as distracted as he can, "What was that?" as he moves his face in the area of Martin's mouth.
That is when the full-blown flailing of the arms starts.
Jack stares at them deadpan, the frantic screams of Tennyson being lead to holding still echoing in his ears, just because they were so fucking loud and not because he is still actually hearing them. The guy was lead down to holding almost an hour ago, for the love of all things good and holy.
Martin looks to be having the same problem by the slightly dazed look on his face, so he feels safe in asking Boss to repeat the question, this time a bit slower and a whole lot louder please.
"What," Jack says with his tone laden heavily with exasperation, "did you do to break him?"
"Talked about relationships," says Martin with a grin, still a bit dazed but getting better.
"Relationships," Jack repeats flatly.
Time for him to contribute to the conversation. "Relationships," he confirms with a nod.
Paperwork complete and over with, they both decide to share the lift and leave the building together. Outside, they stop at the curb, and trade amused glances.
Martin grins, leans back his head to look at the cloudy night sky. "The tongue was a little much, Taylor."
He laughs, not because what Martin has said is funny, but because he's sort of pleased that he got to make-out with his best friend, even if it was just until the guy started to scream.
A few raindrops hit his head, and he looks over at Martin's annoyed look. Laughs again, and raises his hand to flag down a cab. "Come on, there's a game on tonight, we'll get pizza."
The younger man brushes the water off of his face, and says "sure."
He still can't wipe the grin off of his face.