| Donald Strachey Mysteries :
Written in Stone
Written in Stone
Rating: PG
Summary: Undercover work can have serious consequences.
Warning: Extra Squishy.
Author's Notes: This started out as an "Undercover" story but was finished for the "Monogamy" challenge. See additional notes at the end of the story.
Thanks to pollitt for beta and hand-holding.
*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~
Written in Stone
by Maverick
He sipped his martini and waited for his date to arrive. It’d been a long time since he’d been on a first date. He had forgotten how nerve-racking it could be. He recognized the man when he walked into the restaurant. He looked just like his picture on the website. He adjusted his tie and resettled his glasses onto his nose, waving the man over as he tried for his most sincere smile. This was going to be harder than he thought.
They settled into getting to know you small talk, the guy seeming to actually listen to what he had to say. That should have put him more at ease but it just made him more uncomfortable. And then the inevitable questions started.
“You don’t look like the kind of guy who needs to use an online dating service.”
He took a sip of his drink and shrugged. “Bad breakup. Just trying to get back into the swing of things. I don’t really like the club scene.”
The guy nodded like he understood, like maybe he’d been there himself. “How long were the two of you together?”
“A little over six years. As corny as it sounds, I thought we’d be together forever. We had a house, a dog. Everything.”
There was no pity on the other man’s face, just a smile tinged with sadness. “That’s gotta be rough. What happened?”
“I caught him cheating on me.”
~*~*~*~*~
Before he met Timmy, Donald had always liked undercover work. It was a rush, an adrenaline kick that proved to be quite addictive. Not to mention it was a chance to escape his own fucked up life for a little while. But most importantly, he was good at it.
Really good at it.
He could adapt his looks, his mannerisms to fit whatever part he needed to play. Back when he was in the Army, his CO told him that one of his greatest strengths was in reading people and being able to give them what they needed to make them confess or reveal the information the Army wanted. It’s why he got selected for Military Intelligence. He figured that skill didn’t just disappear because of his discharge. He thought about joining the police force for about two seconds before he realized that while he was very good at what he did, he really didn’t like taking orders. Not anymore anyway.
So most days he’s all right with being a private investigator. He gets to use his God-given talents, as Timmy likes to call them, to help people. You know, when he isn’t snapping pictures of cheating spouses.
~*~*~*~*~
After dinner, they ended up taking a walk down by the river. His date had suggested a tour of the Hudson River Way to see the paintings on the lampposts, but he had to decline. Too many memories, he explained. That used to be one of *their* places. His date nodded, offered a comforting squeeze to his shoulder.
For a first date, things seemed to be going as well as they could. The guy said all the right things, didn’t seem to be coming on too strong. It was like he knew exactly what to say and what to do to make someone feel at ease in his presence. He could admit to himself, he went into the date not wanting to like the guy just on principle, but as the night went on, it became harder to remember to be cautious.
~*~*~*~*~
Donald likes his life. He really does. It’s not what he expected, not what he planned, but he really has made his peace with his past. Well, most days anyway. The thing of it is, he wouldn’t trade Timmy for anything or anyone. He might not have the career he would have chosen, he might have lost everything he thought was important to him in an instant. But what he gained, what he *has* with Timmy is more precious, more real than the rest of it ever could have been.
And he hopes that Timmy understands that, hopes he shows him how much he adores him, how damn lucky he, Donald Strachey, is to share his life with Timothy Callahan.
Which is why undercover work doesn’t hold the appeal that it once did. He doesn’t like being someone else. He doesn’t like having to do and say things he doesn’t mean, especially if it’s something that could compromise his relationship with Timmy.
The first time he had to pretend to pick up a trick at a local gay hot spot, he nearly tossed his cookies. Luckily the nervousness worked for the part, making him an easy target for the remarkably stupid gay bashers that had been terrorizing the club’s patrons. Donald ended up wiping the floor with the lot of them without even breaking a sweat. But that didn’t stop him from taking a shower the first second he got home to try and wash the events of the evening off of his body and out of his mind. Not the fight. The fight felt good, but the moment before, the moment when he took off his ring and pretended to be someone looking for a good time, pretended to be someone whose lover and best friend wasn’t waiting at home for him in their bed.
Of course, he confessed it all to Timmy before the night was through. Timmy had held him, had pretty much given him carte blanche to do what he had to do to solve his cases. He knew Timmy was trying to comfort him, to make him feel better about what he’d done. But in reality it made him feel worse because he knew what Timmy was saying was 'do what you have to keep yourself safe even if it means hurting me.' And that selflessness was one of the many things he loved about Tim Callahan, but it was a lot to live up to.
~*~*~*~*~
They ended up back at their cars outside the restaurant. It was a clear night and he could see his own reflection in his date's eyes. He could see how nervous he looked. This was the worst part about starting a new relationship, the awkward moment when you weren't sure how far to go. It was crunch time, Donald told himself.
"I had a good time," his date told him, reaching over to run his hand down Donald's tie. "I'd like to do it again."
Donald smiled and stepped closer. "So would I. Thanks for a nice evening." He cupped the man's head in his hands and pressed his lips against his mouth. The man opened his mouth, let Donald swipe his tongue inside. It wasn't the most passionate kiss ever, but it got the point across.
The man licked his lips when they pulled apart. "I knew you'd be a good kisser."
Donald looked away trying to keep his emotions in check. "Thanks. You're not so bad yourself. Call me tomorrow?"
"You bet I will," the man said after another quick kiss.
~*~*~*~*~
As soon as Donald stormed through their front door, he knelt down in front of Timmy who was sitting on their couch. “I only want you. I don’t... I had to kiss him.”
Timmy stroked Donald's hair. "Sssh."
Normally, Donald would arch into that caress, but he couldn't now. Not after what he'd done.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.”
Donald stood up and started pacing. “No, it’s not okay. I kissed him. I put my tongue in his mouth and made him think I was interested in him. And the whole time, all I could think, seriously, all I could think was how wrong it was. How I was betraying you. I can’t do this any more Timothy. I can’t.”
Timmy stood up and walked over to Donald, his hands massaging Donald's shoulders. He looked almost scared. “Do what?”
“This case. Undercover.”
Donald watched Timmy's face wash over with relief. He must of thought Donald meant something else. "The case, sweetheart. Not us. Never us."
Timmy hugged him, cradling Donald's head against his shoulder. "I knew that. You just scared me for a moment. And I have my own confession to make.”
Donald pulled back to look at Timmy's face. “Why don’t I like the sound of that?”
Timmy kissed him. “Nothing you haven’t already guessed, I’m sure. But I’m happy you don’t want to be kissing someone else. I’d really rather prefer if you didn’t.”
It was Donald's turn to massage Timmy's shoulders. “Timmy. I...”
Timmy kissed him again, silencing him the best way possible. “I know Donald. And I stand behind what I said, you do what you have to do to make your case and stay safe. But it doesn’t mean I’m ever going to like your lips or your tongue or any other body part on some other man, or woman for that matter.”
Donald had to smile at that. “I don’t want anyone else. There’s no one else for me but you.”
“I know that. And I don’t want anyone else but you either, so really there is no problem.”
They settled back down on the couch, Donald snug against Timmy's side. “You’re going to make me finish the case, aren’t you?”
Timmy did his signature head bob. “I wouldn’t say make you.”
Donald had to laugh at that. “You want me to finish the case?”
“Yes. This man preys on vulnerable, lonely souls. No one deserves that type of treatment and you can stop him, Donald. I know you can.”
God, Timmy had so much faith in him. So much. Donald knew it should scare him how much he relied on that, on Timmy. But all it did was make him feel stronger, made him want to succeed. And with Timmy behind him, he was pretty sure he would. “Have I mentioned lately that I love you?”
“Yes, actually, you have. But you can remind me of that as often as you like. I love you too, honey.”
Donald laid his head back down on Timmy’s chest, his arm around his waist.
Timmy kissed the top of Donald’s head. “Now don’t get me wrong, when I say finish the case, I mean catch the bastard. If you can do that without kissing him again, I’m all for that. But do what you have to do and know I’ll be here when you’re done. I’ll always be here, Donald. Always.”
~*~*~*~*~
As the perp was led away in handcuffs, Donald slid his wedding ring back on his finger. He laughed as Bailey eyed him strangely as he approached.
“Been raiding your better half’s closet there Strachey?” Bub said, motioning with his hand to Donald’s sweater vest and eye glasses.
Donald smiled. The fact that Bailey now acknowledged that Timmy was Donald’s partner made him respect the man even more. “Should I be concerned that you’re aware of Timmy’s clothing choices, Bub?”
“No. Just noticed you aren’t dressed quite so much like a bum as you normally are.”
Donald laughed. “You and the boys at the station been watching Queer Eye again?”
“You’re a funny guy Strachey. Those clothes just don’t seem like your style.”
Donald figured he’d give Bub a break seeing he just saved his ass and all, so he left the style remark alone. “This asshole only went for the yuppie stereotype so I figured jeans and a t-shirt just wouldn’t work, but Timmy’s mother did buy me this lovely sweater.” Donald ran his hand down the front of the argyle sweater in question as he winked at Bub. “Only time I’ve ever worn it.”
Bub gave the knowing chuckle of a man with a mother-in-law of his own. “You did good work on this one, Donald. Ten more victims have come forward.”
“You think the charges will stick?”
“The last victim picked him out of a photo array and your drink tested positive for rhohipnol. We’ve got video of him spiking it, so I’d say there’s a really good shot.”
“Good. If you don’t need anything else, I’m gonna head home.”
Bub clasped Donald’s shoulder as they walked out of the building. “That’s fine. Stop by the station in the morning and we’ll go over the case and get your full statement. Again, you hit this one out of the park.”
“Thanks Bub. Can’t say that I’m not glad it’s over.”
“You and me both. Have a good night.”
Donald smiled. He had Timmy waiting at home. “I plan to.”
~*~*~*~*~
When Donald entered the house, Timmy met him at the door with a martini in one hand and Watson in the other. He leaned in for a quick kiss before passing him his drink. “Detective Bailey called and said you were on your way home, so I figured you might need this.”
Donald took a sip of his martini and stroked Timmy’s chin with his thumb. “Need you more, but a drink’s nice too.”
Timmy kissed him again and let Watson down on the floor as they walked over to the couch and sat down. “It’s over, then?”
“It’s over. Bailey thinks it will stick. The asshole should do some serious time.”
“I’m glad.”
“You and me both sweetheart. You and me both.”
“I know this case was hard for you Donald. But you did the right thing seeing it through. You caught the guy, honey. You should be proud of yourself. I’m proud of you.”
Donald set his drink down on the table and settled against Timmy’s side, his head tucked under Timmy’s chin. “It’s just... he was good Timmy. Really good. He came across as so sincere, so real. I could see why so many people fell for his act.”
“That’s why it’s so important that you caught him. He won’t be able to hurt anyone else again.”
Donald nuzzled at Timmy’s neck. “Hey, you think you can play hooky tomorrow?”
Timmy shifted so he could look down at Donald. “What did you have in mind?”
“Well, it looks like Spring has finally sprung, so I thought we could pack a picnic lunch and go visit our bricks on the Hudson River Way and spend the day in Riverfront Park.”
Before Timmy started working for the Senator, he’d worked on the Riverfront Project. Timmy campaigned for the project almost day and night. And while Donald pretended to not be all that interested in what Timmy was talking about, he loved seeing Timmy so excited. It made him excited too, so they spent a lot of time down by the Hudson River watching the project become a reality. The HRW with its trompe l'oeil paintings of Albany’s history was such a passion of Timmy’s that for their first anniversary as a couple, Donald purchased two adjoining bricks along the walk and had their names engraved. ‘Written in stone,’ Donald had told Timmy at the time, his thumb sweeping across Timmy’s chin.
And Timmy was giving him the same look now that he did then. A look that said 'I love you' and 'you amaze me' and 'I’m going to make such sweet love to you that you might die from it.'
“I’m feeling a sick day coming on. That sounds wonderful. I can’t wait.”
Donald lifted his head and kissed Timmy, his tongue finding home in Timmy’s mouth. “It’s a date, then,” he said as he took Timmy’s hand and led them up to their bedroom, to their bed.
He was glad the case was over, but he knew it wouldn’t be the last undercover case he’d have to work. But that was okay. They were okay. They’d always be okay because while he might have forgotten it for a brief moment, their love... it really was written in stone.
—FIN—
Author's Notes: Info on the Hudson River Way can be found HERE and HERE.
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