t h e . o t h e r . w o m a n

The Other Woman
[by victoria p.]

Rating: PG

Summary: "Generally speaking," Rusty said, "it's a good idea to duck when someone takes a swing at you."

Notes: Written for Slodwick's Worst Case Scenario Challenge. My assignment was a black eye. Thanks to Mousapelli for looking it over and helping out. All errors are mine.

Date: September 17, 2005

"Generally speaking," Rusty said as he wrapped a towel around the plastic bag he'd just finished filling with ice, "it's a good idea to duck when someone takes a swing at you." He cracked the gum he was chewing -- Juicy Fruit, by the scent, and God, that took Danny back; he didn't know they still made it, or that Rusty still chewed it ("The flavor disappears after five minutes," Danny complained every time, and every time, Rusty answered, "But it's a sweet five minutes." And Danny had to agree with that.) -- and said, "Didn't they teach you that in the clink?"

Danny sucked in a breath and closed his eyes as Rusty tipped his head back, deft fingers cupping his chin as he applied the icepack to Danny's black eye with his other hand. It stung.

"I'm a lover, not a fighter," Danny said. Rusty's fingers wrapped around his wrist, brought his hand up to hold the icepack against his eye. Danny missed the warmth of Rusty's hand when Rusty took it away.

"Yeah, I think that's what got you into trouble in the first place."

Danny opened his good eye to see Rusty leaning against the sink, arms crossed over his bare chest. Even the yellow light of the cheap kitchen lamp was good to him; he looked like a golden god.

"You don't have to sound so smug about it."

"It's not every day I get to see someone get the better of you."

Danny snorted. "Enjoyed that, did you?"

Rusty cocked his head as if thinking and brushed his thumb over his chin, a tell he'd never been able to break himself of. Or maybe he just wanted Danny to think that. Maybe he just liked drawing Danny's attention to his mouth. Which right now was curving into a half-grin, slow like honey. The sight was almost enough to distract Danny from the pain of his eye and the implications of the situation.

"Maybe."

"If you'd locked the door like I told you to--"

Rusty raised his eyebrows. "Oh, you're going to blame me when you were the one pushing me up against the wall, shoving your tongue in my mouth?"

"You weren't complaining."

"I couldn't exactly speak at the time."

"You were doing all right with your tongue."

The look Rusty gave him was two parts laughter, one part aggravation, and Danny knew he deserved it. Well, some of it. He closed his eyes again and rested his head against the back of the chair, already working out how he could spin this, make it clear that he'd made his choice before it had been made for him.

Even with his eyes closed, he felt Rusty move closer, wasn't surprised when Rusty's hand, gentler than his voice, slid over his own to pull the icepack away from his eye.

"Let me see." He leaned forward for a closer look. "I could kiss it better." He brushed his lips lightly over the bruised area, breath smelling sweet from the gum, and Danny held himself very still. It didn't hurt; it actually did feel a little better, but he didn't say anything.

Rusty kept talking but Danny tuned him out. He spoke as if he were comforting a scared child or calming a skittish horse, meaningless words meant to lull the listener -- the tone was more important anyway. It worked. Even though Danny knew exactly what Rusty was doing, he felt himself relaxing, the tension in his neck and shoulders easing as he gave himself over to Rusty's warm, skilled hands. "Well, you've got quite a shiner." Danny opened his eyes then, so he could roll them. "Who knew Tess had such a mean right hook?" Rusty's finger over his lips stopped him from responding. "It was a rhetorical question." He put the icepack back into Danny's hand and pressed it back to Danny's eye, then went to the refrigerator. "Something to drink? I've got beer or, well, beer." Danny could hear him rustling through whatever was on the shelves. Rusty wasn't much for keeping food that was actually edible on hand. Then again, the crap he did keep around would probably survive a nuclear apocalypse. "Ooh. Cream soda."

"Cream soda."

Rusty flashed him a megawatt smile. "Yeah. Doctor Brown's cream soda."

Another flavor reminiscent of their younger days, fizzy and sweet on Rusty's tongue when they kissed.

"How about some scotch to go with my ice?"

"I can do that." Rusty put a can of soda on the table and reached into the cabinet above the fridge, coming up with a bottle of Chivas and a glass, which he set down next to the can. He poured two fingers of scotch into the glass, stuck his gum into a napkin, and took a sip before handing it to Danny. Danny sipped the scotch appreciatively, enjoying the mellow burn in his chest.

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, and then Rusty said, "So what are you gonna do?"

Danny shrugged a shoulder. It felt good, so he did it again, first the left, then the right, feeling his joints pop. Maybe they were getting too old for this shit.

"We are not too old for this," Rusty said, "so don't even start." He paused, then, "Well, maybe you are. What with the whole retiring and settling down thing." He wrinkled his nose in distaste.

Danny put the glass down on the table. It made a satisfying thunk. "I'm not," he said. "I don't think I can retire. It's more than what I do -- it's who I am."

Rusty nodded. "Yeah. But you've got a wife who doesn't see it that way."

"Not for much longer." Danny put the icepack down and fiddled with his wedding band. He eased it over his knuckle and off, laid it flat on the table next to his glass. It gleamed dully in the low light, like the one ring in Lord of the Rings, but he wasn't bound any more, if he ever had been. He could feel the weight of Rusty's gaze on him, though Rusty was pretending to be interested in his can of cream soda. "I knew what I was doing when I came here tonight."

Rusty's hand checked for the briefest moment. If Danny hadn't been watching, if he hadn't known Rusty as well as he did, he'd never have seen it.

"The couch opens into a bed," was all Rusty said.

Danny leaned back, tapped his fingers on the table. "You're gonna make me sleep on the couch?"

"I might be open to some haggling." Rusty gave him that slow half-grin again.

Danny smiled back. "Tess would make me sleep on the couch."

"So if I let you into bed, that makes me the bigger man."

"I think it makes you the other woman."

"No," Rusty said, suddenly serious. He held Danny's gaze, eyes intent, predatory. "Tess was always the other woman. I was here first."

Desire shivered down Danny's spine and he leaned forward to press a kiss to Rusty's mouth, warm and tasting of vanilla. "Yeah," he said. "You were."

end

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