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.fic: The Technology - WaT/N&A x-over (D/M PG13) 5.5
Title: The Technology
By: HF
Emai: aesc36 @gmail.com
Pairing: D/M
Rating/Warning: PG/PG13-ish.
Disclaimer: Without a Trace belongs to CBS &c. And the fangirls were sore aggrieved. Now & Again belongs to CBS too. This also grieved the fangirls sorely.
Advertisements: Crossover with Now and Again.
Previous chapters: 01 (with all pertinent notes); 02; 03; 04
Notes: I'm so sorry this took as long as it did... I realized about halfway through the chapter that there were some important things that needed resolution and I had no idea how to resolve them. Grah.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sam’s cell phone rang, startling and discordant in the silence.
“Sorry,” she said, nodding briefly at Victor before slipping out, flipping her phone open as she went.
“I don’t suppose you’d mind explaining yourself,” Jack said. Not a question, or a request, and Victor actually looked uneasy.
“Actually, Jack, I do.” Victor straightened, gaze sweeping the room – Jack, Viv, the conference table, lingering a second on Danny, which was unexpected and unnerving – before returning to the contemplation of some middle distance. “And because I know – or, I suppose, I know very little – I’m telling you for your safety, for Martin’s safety, you’ll leave this alone. I can handle it.”
“Like you’ve done a great job of handling it so far,” Danny said, unable to keep that comment back and not really wanting to. There was a lot more he wanted to say, but Viv’s scalding look and Victor’s stony disapproval was enough to silence him.
“You’ve been very persistent, Agent Taylor.” The way Victor said it made Danny’s persistence a bad thing, but Danny really didn’t care. “Persistent, not to mention insubordinate. Your team as a whole has been, but you especially. Why?”
Sudden sharpening of Victor’s expression told Danny that Victor was working it out. Was going to figure out him and Martin in the next ten seconds, and what would that mean? Was this the last ten seconds of his career? Of Martin’s? The thought didn’t frighten him as much as he thought it would, the thought of Victor knowing not as frightening, either.
Anything, anything was better than not knowing what had happened to Martin. Because that? That fucking terrified him in a way he wouldn’t have thought possible.
“Look,” he said after a moment, reaching for breath and calmness that wouldn’t come, “is Martin going to be okay?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Victor said impatiently. “Martin will be fine if you stop looking. Give me time to work this out.”
“Are you talking about a hostage situation?” Jack demanded. “Victor – ”
“It’s not a hostage situation,” Victor snapped. “I can’t tell you what kind of situation it is, other than to say it’s a ... an unfortunate misunderstanding, one that I will need to take care of myself. And I can’t take care of it if you and half the New York Missing Persons department are out there beating down doors.”
Jack drew a ragged breath, blew it out, and nodded reluctantly.
“Thank you.” Victor did not sound thankful so much as relieved.
“Jack,” Danny protested.
“Danny,” Jack said repressively.
“But Jack, we can’t just –”
“You can,” Victor said, “and you will. I have a meeting elsewhere with some... some individuals who may be of help in Martin’s case; when I know more, I’ll pass it on.”
And with that he left, just left, brushing past Sam who was coming in and sparing one last appraising glance for Danny and that was it. He was gone, and Danny couldn’t believe that Jack had just let him go without saying anything about how stupid Victor was being.
“Sam?” Jack said, once Victor’s footsteps had vanished down the hall.
“Valenti and Eldridge called,” Sam said quietly. “They’ve managed to track mystery guy down to Manhattan; an agent says some people saw him near 63rd and Madison. Valenti says he apparently lives in the area, but no one knows much more than that.”
“Great.” Jack nodded in satisfaction. “Danny and Viv, I want you down there, see if you can’t dig him up. I want to know who he is, what his ties are to Martin, everything you can. Sam, you and Elena keep tabs on Victor.”
“You want us to shadow the Deputy Director?”
“If you leave right now, you should be able to keep a couple steps behind him.”
Sam sighed but nodded and left.
Danny and Viv weren’t far behind.
* * *
“We’re going to get fired, you know,” Elena said, hunching low in the passenger seat as Victor Fitzgerald crossed the street in front of them, heading for a park.
“Not if we don’t get caught,” Sam said.
* * *
“We’re going to get fired, you know,” Danny said as he and Viv walked up Madison. The blast of a passing Toys B Fun truck nearly obscured her answer, but to Danny it sounded like ‘Not if we don’t get caught.’
And at this point it wasn’t like Danny cared, anyway.
“It’s nothing but townhouses around here,” Viv observed in annoyance as she looked up and down the street. Did Valenti give Sam any more information?”
“Not much. Apparently this guy is pretty reclusive. Sometimes there’s a lot of police and government activity in the area, but no one knows why and they don’t ask.” Viv sighed and looked down at her copy of the still from the security camera. “You’d figure someone who looks like he does would draw more attention, but I guess not.”
Danny paused, looked around the collection of pricey townhouses clustered around the intersection at 63rd. Viv was right: it was nothing but townhouses the rest of the way down the block, and they could be at this for ages... And, in trying to find this guy, they’d make enough of a stir – federal agents asking around the high-rent district of the East Side – to catch the attention of anyone watching for signs of their continuing investigation.
He was about to give up and turn to Viv to formulate some sort of plan when his eye caught, held on a door recessed behind a brick wall.
“Hey, Viv... You think a safe-grade metal door counts as reclusive?”
Viv smiled. “Probably.”
Fortunately there was a buzzer next to the door, as Danny couldn’t imagine knocking on it. He leaned heavily on the buzzer for a moment and waited.
“Unless you’re the pizza delivery guy, get lost!”
Even obscured by metal and distance that was Martin’s voice.
“My God,” Viv whispered.
“Sir, we’re with the FBI,” Danny shouted, striving for calm. “Please open the door.” Please open it, because there was no way he was going to be able to knock it down.
And he wasn’t expecting compliance, but a minute later there was a heavy thump and a painful grinding of metal, as though someone or something were twisting the door off its hinges. Viv glanced at Danny in some alarm, but quickly looked back at the door as it creaked open.
“You must be the fellow agents,” said the man with Martin’s face.
* * *
“Good morning, Agent Fitzgerald. How are you feeling?”
Theodore Morris was bent over Martin’s bed, peering at him in something that on any other face would have been concern.
“I’m fine.” Martin pushed himself up, forcing Morris to lean back. “What do you want?”
“You should know that our time together is coming to an end.” Morris slipped a hand into the inside pocket of his jacket. “As much as I have enjoyed meeting you, Agent Fitzgerald, you know what must eventually happen to all good things.”
“What are you doing?” Martin tried to move across the bed, to get up, but the metal railings and Morris’s hand on his wrist stopped him. The syringe he saw in Morris’s other hand almost froze him, and he thought This is it, this is it, Morris was going to kill him, and he fought, tore the IV out of his wrist and didn’t notice.
Too slow, God, too slow. He made it to his feet, nearly falling out of his bed, but couldn’t get any further; Morris was right there, pushing him down with an improbable and terrifying strength, and on any other day Martin could have escaped – he knew he should have been strong and fast enough to get away – but they’d been giving him something, he knew, in that damned IV, and now Morris was giving him something else.
Sting of a needle in his forearm, the one Morris was holding, but Martin barely felt it.
The room spun a little, numbness crept along his veins and he could feel it working through his blood. Martin fought for terror, one more chance to get away, and couldn’t.
“Do not worry, Agent Fitzgerald.” Martin very much wanted to worry, but the sedative and Morris’s deep, rich voice suddenly made anxiety difficult. The plunger on the syringe depressed a little more. “This is but a sleep, and a forgetting.”
That was from a poem, Martin thought disjointedly. He’d read it in college, but couldn’t recall the title or the poet – the memory came to him through the haze of sedation, as though from a great distance. The room yawned around him, a giant echoing place full of clicking machinery, white and endless. Dr. Morris seemed very far away too, though he was bending over Martin, warm hand on his forehead.
“Good night, sweet ladies,” Morris whispered, and Martin could feel Morris’s breath on his cheek, could hear Morris’s voice vibrating in the hollow spaces of his bones.
“Good night, good night.”
* * *
The office was perilously quiet, and Jack knew that the longer the quiet lasted, the worse the event would be that broke it.
He was contemplating a trip to the coffee maker when the phone rang. He stared at it a long moment before picking it up halfway through the third ring.
“Malone,” he grunted. “Mmm-hm. You what? Really? I’ll have someone pick – oh, of course you want to take care of it yourself. What?... No, I didn’t continue the investigation; I sent the rest of my agents home... Yes, even Agent Taylor... Right, Victor... Of course I would never dream about going behind your back. ‘Bye.”
* * *
Two days later he was at Martin’s apartment again, looking around like it was something new. And it sort of was in a way he couldn’t identify, though he tried as Martin pulled him impatiently through the living room and down the hall to his bedroom.
“It was a mugging gone bad, huh?” he asked, trying not to be distracted as Martin unbuttoned his shirt and got his hands inside it, sliding across the skin of Danny’s ribs.
“Yeah,” Martin said against his mouth, turning the word into a kiss that slipped slyly past Danny’s lips. And that was distracting, really distracting, and having Martin here with him, pressed close with his arms wrapped around Danny under his shirt... After two days of searching and fearing the worst, and then learning Martin was in the hospital without his ID after he’d been held up... Yeah, distracting.
If not for the fact that Danny knew the mugging story had been completely fabricated. Martin had stuck stubbornly to it, and if Danny hadn’t seen that guy – Michael, and that was all the name he’d given before taking Danny’s arm in a formidable, terrifying grip and ordering him and Viv to get out before they come and find you – he would have believed it.
And, too, if not for the fact that he knew Martin well enough to know he wasn’t pleased about being forced into a corner – tiny signs, like Martin’s curtness whenever Jack pressed him, the way his eyes would darken in annoyance. That Victor was in some way responsible for it Danny didn’t doubt for an instant.
He thought, suddenly, of the question Viv had asked him on the streets four days ago, the question that had been circling around the back of his mind waiting for some kind of resolution. Carefully he broke away from Martin’s mouth, moving them apart enough so he could see Martin’s face, creased now in puzzlement.
“Danny?”
“If something was going on with you, you’d tell me, right?”
Martin blinked at him, drawing back a little more, and for a second – a brief, awful second – Danny thought this was rejection, Martin backing away from him, from a question that he’d only just realized held a whole lot more than he’d thought.
But Martin only looked at him silently, assessingly, before he nodded.
“Sure,” he said, and it sounded like he really meant it. “Yeah.”
* * *
Some time later...
They were sweaty and sticky and the sheets were uncomfortable, but Danny loved it. More than he should, he knew, but he couldn’t help that. Didn’t want to, really, too caught up in the thought that Martin was here, alive and not missing anymore, though he didn’t know if he should be that surprised. Danny had a strong suspicion that government conspiracies, cloning projects, or whatever wouldn’t be able to keep Martin from making his way back.
The thought was gratifying and, again, maybe more than it should have been, but he couldn’t make himself care about that, either.
“So what’s been going on while I’ve been gone?” Martin asked, stretching lazily against his side.
“Not much... we got two of the other teams to take over our casework while we tried to find you.” Danny’s fingers traced idle patterns up and down Martin’s shoulders, liking the firmness of muscle under skin. “You need to have the super look at your central heating. It’s acting up.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much – No, wait. We got a new coffeemaker at work.”
“Really?” Martin stared at Danny in momentary incomprehension.
“Oh, yeah,” Danny assured him. “Best thing ever. State of the art.”
-end-
Notes: Morris quotes from Wordsworth's "Intimations on Immortality" and Hamlet, though he usually prefers show tunes (which, with Dennis Haysbert's voice, is wonderful... and hell, I could listen to him read the phone book all day long).
Rejoicing: Yay! Done! All my WIPs are done! *throws confetti*
In other news: For some reason, random keys on my keyboard are refusing to function. First it was 'P', which I managed to fix, and now it's my backspace key. I can't live without my backspace key. *grrrs*
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to finish some work and to continue worrying about tonight's ep.
By: HF
Emai: aesc36 @gmail.com
Pairing: D/M
Rating/Warning: PG/PG13-ish.
Disclaimer: Without a Trace belongs to CBS &c. And the fangirls were sore aggrieved. Now & Again belongs to CBS too. This also grieved the fangirls sorely.
Advertisements: Crossover with Now and Again.
Previous chapters: 01 (with all pertinent notes); 02; 03; 04
Notes: I'm so sorry this took as long as it did... I realized about halfway through the chapter that there were some important things that needed resolution and I had no idea how to resolve them. Grah.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sam’s cell phone rang, startling and discordant in the silence.
“Sorry,” she said, nodding briefly at Victor before slipping out, flipping her phone open as she went.
“I don’t suppose you’d mind explaining yourself,” Jack said. Not a question, or a request, and Victor actually looked uneasy.
“Actually, Jack, I do.” Victor straightened, gaze sweeping the room – Jack, Viv, the conference table, lingering a second on Danny, which was unexpected and unnerving – before returning to the contemplation of some middle distance. “And because I know – or, I suppose, I know very little – I’m telling you for your safety, for Martin’s safety, you’ll leave this alone. I can handle it.”
“Like you’ve done a great job of handling it so far,” Danny said, unable to keep that comment back and not really wanting to. There was a lot more he wanted to say, but Viv’s scalding look and Victor’s stony disapproval was enough to silence him.
“You’ve been very persistent, Agent Taylor.” The way Victor said it made Danny’s persistence a bad thing, but Danny really didn’t care. “Persistent, not to mention insubordinate. Your team as a whole has been, but you especially. Why?”
Sudden sharpening of Victor’s expression told Danny that Victor was working it out. Was going to figure out him and Martin in the next ten seconds, and what would that mean? Was this the last ten seconds of his career? Of Martin’s? The thought didn’t frighten him as much as he thought it would, the thought of Victor knowing not as frightening, either.
Anything, anything was better than not knowing what had happened to Martin. Because that? That fucking terrified him in a way he wouldn’t have thought possible.
“Look,” he said after a moment, reaching for breath and calmness that wouldn’t come, “is Martin going to be okay?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Victor said impatiently. “Martin will be fine if you stop looking. Give me time to work this out.”
“Are you talking about a hostage situation?” Jack demanded. “Victor – ”
“It’s not a hostage situation,” Victor snapped. “I can’t tell you what kind of situation it is, other than to say it’s a ... an unfortunate misunderstanding, one that I will need to take care of myself. And I can’t take care of it if you and half the New York Missing Persons department are out there beating down doors.”
Jack drew a ragged breath, blew it out, and nodded reluctantly.
“Thank you.” Victor did not sound thankful so much as relieved.
“Jack,” Danny protested.
“Danny,” Jack said repressively.
“But Jack, we can’t just –”
“You can,” Victor said, “and you will. I have a meeting elsewhere with some... some individuals who may be of help in Martin’s case; when I know more, I’ll pass it on.”
And with that he left, just left, brushing past Sam who was coming in and sparing one last appraising glance for Danny and that was it. He was gone, and Danny couldn’t believe that Jack had just let him go without saying anything about how stupid Victor was being.
“Sam?” Jack said, once Victor’s footsteps had vanished down the hall.
“Valenti and Eldridge called,” Sam said quietly. “They’ve managed to track mystery guy down to Manhattan; an agent says some people saw him near 63rd and Madison. Valenti says he apparently lives in the area, but no one knows much more than that.”
“Great.” Jack nodded in satisfaction. “Danny and Viv, I want you down there, see if you can’t dig him up. I want to know who he is, what his ties are to Martin, everything you can. Sam, you and Elena keep tabs on Victor.”
“You want us to shadow the Deputy Director?”
“If you leave right now, you should be able to keep a couple steps behind him.”
Sam sighed but nodded and left.
Danny and Viv weren’t far behind.
“We’re going to get fired, you know,” Elena said, hunching low in the passenger seat as Victor Fitzgerald crossed the street in front of them, heading for a park.
“Not if we don’t get caught,” Sam said.
“We’re going to get fired, you know,” Danny said as he and Viv walked up Madison. The blast of a passing Toys B Fun truck nearly obscured her answer, but to Danny it sounded like ‘Not if we don’t get caught.’
And at this point it wasn’t like Danny cared, anyway.
“It’s nothing but townhouses around here,” Viv observed in annoyance as she looked up and down the street. Did Valenti give Sam any more information?”
“Not much. Apparently this guy is pretty reclusive. Sometimes there’s a lot of police and government activity in the area, but no one knows why and they don’t ask.” Viv sighed and looked down at her copy of the still from the security camera. “You’d figure someone who looks like he does would draw more attention, but I guess not.”
Danny paused, looked around the collection of pricey townhouses clustered around the intersection at 63rd. Viv was right: it was nothing but townhouses the rest of the way down the block, and they could be at this for ages... And, in trying to find this guy, they’d make enough of a stir – federal agents asking around the high-rent district of the East Side – to catch the attention of anyone watching for signs of their continuing investigation.
He was about to give up and turn to Viv to formulate some sort of plan when his eye caught, held on a door recessed behind a brick wall.
“Hey, Viv... You think a safe-grade metal door counts as reclusive?”
Viv smiled. “Probably.”
Fortunately there was a buzzer next to the door, as Danny couldn’t imagine knocking on it. He leaned heavily on the buzzer for a moment and waited.
“Unless you’re the pizza delivery guy, get lost!”
Even obscured by metal and distance that was Martin’s voice.
“My God,” Viv whispered.
“Sir, we’re with the FBI,” Danny shouted, striving for calm. “Please open the door.” Please open it, because there was no way he was going to be able to knock it down.
And he wasn’t expecting compliance, but a minute later there was a heavy thump and a painful grinding of metal, as though someone or something were twisting the door off its hinges. Viv glanced at Danny in some alarm, but quickly looked back at the door as it creaked open.
“You must be the fellow agents,” said the man with Martin’s face.
“Good morning, Agent Fitzgerald. How are you feeling?”
Theodore Morris was bent over Martin’s bed, peering at him in something that on any other face would have been concern.
“I’m fine.” Martin pushed himself up, forcing Morris to lean back. “What do you want?”
“You should know that our time together is coming to an end.” Morris slipped a hand into the inside pocket of his jacket. “As much as I have enjoyed meeting you, Agent Fitzgerald, you know what must eventually happen to all good things.”
“What are you doing?” Martin tried to move across the bed, to get up, but the metal railings and Morris’s hand on his wrist stopped him. The syringe he saw in Morris’s other hand almost froze him, and he thought This is it, this is it, Morris was going to kill him, and he fought, tore the IV out of his wrist and didn’t notice.
Too slow, God, too slow. He made it to his feet, nearly falling out of his bed, but couldn’t get any further; Morris was right there, pushing him down with an improbable and terrifying strength, and on any other day Martin could have escaped – he knew he should have been strong and fast enough to get away – but they’d been giving him something, he knew, in that damned IV, and now Morris was giving him something else.
Sting of a needle in his forearm, the one Morris was holding, but Martin barely felt it.
The room spun a little, numbness crept along his veins and he could feel it working through his blood. Martin fought for terror, one more chance to get away, and couldn’t.
“Do not worry, Agent Fitzgerald.” Martin very much wanted to worry, but the sedative and Morris’s deep, rich voice suddenly made anxiety difficult. The plunger on the syringe depressed a little more. “This is but a sleep, and a forgetting.”
That was from a poem, Martin thought disjointedly. He’d read it in college, but couldn’t recall the title or the poet – the memory came to him through the haze of sedation, as though from a great distance. The room yawned around him, a giant echoing place full of clicking machinery, white and endless. Dr. Morris seemed very far away too, though he was bending over Martin, warm hand on his forehead.
“Good night, sweet ladies,” Morris whispered, and Martin could feel Morris’s breath on his cheek, could hear Morris’s voice vibrating in the hollow spaces of his bones.
“Good night, good night.”
The office was perilously quiet, and Jack knew that the longer the quiet lasted, the worse the event would be that broke it.
He was contemplating a trip to the coffee maker when the phone rang. He stared at it a long moment before picking it up halfway through the third ring.
“Malone,” he grunted. “Mmm-hm. You what? Really? I’ll have someone pick – oh, of course you want to take care of it yourself. What?... No, I didn’t continue the investigation; I sent the rest of my agents home... Yes, even Agent Taylor... Right, Victor... Of course I would never dream about going behind your back. ‘Bye.”
Two days later he was at Martin’s apartment again, looking around like it was something new. And it sort of was in a way he couldn’t identify, though he tried as Martin pulled him impatiently through the living room and down the hall to his bedroom.
“It was a mugging gone bad, huh?” he asked, trying not to be distracted as Martin unbuttoned his shirt and got his hands inside it, sliding across the skin of Danny’s ribs.
“Yeah,” Martin said against his mouth, turning the word into a kiss that slipped slyly past Danny’s lips. And that was distracting, really distracting, and having Martin here with him, pressed close with his arms wrapped around Danny under his shirt... After two days of searching and fearing the worst, and then learning Martin was in the hospital without his ID after he’d been held up... Yeah, distracting.
If not for the fact that Danny knew the mugging story had been completely fabricated. Martin had stuck stubbornly to it, and if Danny hadn’t seen that guy – Michael, and that was all the name he’d given before taking Danny’s arm in a formidable, terrifying grip and ordering him and Viv to get out before they come and find you – he would have believed it.
And, too, if not for the fact that he knew Martin well enough to know he wasn’t pleased about being forced into a corner – tiny signs, like Martin’s curtness whenever Jack pressed him, the way his eyes would darken in annoyance. That Victor was in some way responsible for it Danny didn’t doubt for an instant.
He thought, suddenly, of the question Viv had asked him on the streets four days ago, the question that had been circling around the back of his mind waiting for some kind of resolution. Carefully he broke away from Martin’s mouth, moving them apart enough so he could see Martin’s face, creased now in puzzlement.
“Danny?”
“If something was going on with you, you’d tell me, right?”
Martin blinked at him, drawing back a little more, and for a second – a brief, awful second – Danny thought this was rejection, Martin backing away from him, from a question that he’d only just realized held a whole lot more than he’d thought.
But Martin only looked at him silently, assessingly, before he nodded.
“Sure,” he said, and it sounded like he really meant it. “Yeah.”
Some time later...
They were sweaty and sticky and the sheets were uncomfortable, but Danny loved it. More than he should, he knew, but he couldn’t help that. Didn’t want to, really, too caught up in the thought that Martin was here, alive and not missing anymore, though he didn’t know if he should be that surprised. Danny had a strong suspicion that government conspiracies, cloning projects, or whatever wouldn’t be able to keep Martin from making his way back.
The thought was gratifying and, again, maybe more than it should have been, but he couldn’t make himself care about that, either.
“So what’s been going on while I’ve been gone?” Martin asked, stretching lazily against his side.
“Not much... we got two of the other teams to take over our casework while we tried to find you.” Danny’s fingers traced idle patterns up and down Martin’s shoulders, liking the firmness of muscle under skin. “You need to have the super look at your central heating. It’s acting up.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much – No, wait. We got a new coffeemaker at work.”
“Really?” Martin stared at Danny in momentary incomprehension.
“Oh, yeah,” Danny assured him. “Best thing ever. State of the art.”
-end-
Notes: Morris quotes from Wordsworth's "Intimations on Immortality" and Hamlet, though he usually prefers show tunes (which, with Dennis Haysbert's voice, is wonderful... and hell, I could listen to him read the phone book all day long).
Rejoicing: Yay! Done! All my WIPs are done! *throws confetti*
In other news: For some reason, random keys on my keyboard are refusing to function. First it was 'P', which I managed to fix, and now it's my backspace key. I can't live without my backspace key. *grrrs*
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to finish some work and to continue worrying about tonight's ep.
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I'm so glad Martin made it home, and that they found each other, and that everything resolved itself nicely. These boys are so much better together than apart.
On a side note, congrats on finishing up the WIPs. That's always gratifying.
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These boys are so much better together than apart.
Indeed they are. You know, when I first started writing slash almost everything I wrote was PWP stuff. (And I mean, like, writhe-worthy PWP). But now... it's all about the relationship, finding each other and figuring out how the other works. Which is probably why I like D/M so much. *wry look*
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Thanks for sharing :)
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Now and Again was a regrettably short-lived series on CBS back in 1999-2000. The premise was completely wacky (government builds a super-strong/fast/agile human being but needs a brain to run it, enlists that of a newly-deceased middle-aged insurance executive), but the writing and acting was absolutely wonderful. Tons of fun, and IIRC the show actually won some awards, but bad scheduling and a stupid viewing public sank it :/
It was my gateway fandom, if you will, and for that I'm deeply attached to it.
And, you know, Eric Close with his shirt off. A lot. That was another high point.
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As for Danny and Martin, Loved that Danny made the question, is a question someone who's in love should make, they have now moved onto new and better things, and I'm happy (as happy I can be for D/M these days *sobs*).
Long post to tell you that I really liked this crossover, that didn't felt as crack!fic, but as a very moving story of love.
Thanks.
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Not very many fics exist, because the show didn't really last long enough to get a good body of fanfic collected.
My favorites that I've managed to ferret out are probably:
Debbi K, All The King's Men (http://blackraptor.net//naafic/kingsmen.htm). Theo-centric introspection, and very well-written.
Pretty much any N&A fic written by A. Ohlin, which you can find here (http://weirdweb.net/nowagain/fanmaterial.html). "Murphy's Law" and "The Way It Should Be" are probably my favorites.
And, if you're feeling especially intrepid, you can check out Sweet and Becoming (http://www.ontheqt.org/fiction/viewstory.php?sid=7), which is the very first fanfic I ever wrote, ever. Looking at it, I'm not sure whether to be bemused or horrified :)
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Anyway, wanted to congrats you for your site, I've bookmarked it, and I saw you completely remodeled it, I'm especially happy because "Parables" is a series I wanted to rec to someone I'm introducing to the Mag 7 world, and couldn't find it anymore.
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Am still in the process (obviously) of adding fics to the site... I tend to go in waves: a whole bunch at one time, then nothing for a while *g*.
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The fact that there is a new part alone is great, haha. Look forward to reading it later.
Bye!
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Oh blimey, a WaT/NaA (inserts obligatory why was that cancelled, it was fabulous...bah! complaint) crossover, featuring Danny/Martin with a side order of Morris...what a treat to find this on my first toe-dip into D/M fic! 5 star, absolute gold :)
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It's something I do on a regular basis myself.
Danny/Martin with a side order of Morris...what a treat to find this on my first toe-dip into D/M fic
Thank you much! And welcome to the wading pool :)
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Thanks!