Fic: Five Dates Dani and Tidwell Might Have Had [1/1] Dani/Tidwell [Life]

Dec 13, 2008 00:56

Title: Five Dates Dani and Tidwell Might Have Had
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Life
Pairing: Dani/Tidwell
Rating: PG
Summary: A 5 Things fic. What else to say?

Disclaimer: Lies and more lies, and I claim ownership of no one.

Author's Notes: For amazonqueenkate who got me on the crazy train that is "Life", and to fandom-at-large for not doing the big split in regards to who Dani should be dating.



Five Dates Dani and Tidwell Might Have Had
By Perpetual Motion

1.

They’re supposed to go to dinner, someplace with actual linen that doesn’t allow take away, and Dani tries to hide the fact that she’s excited. She shouldn’t be excited. It’s Tidwell. Captain Tidwell, and she should not be nearly-giddy at the idea of having an actual, sit-down dinner with her boss.

“You’re weird, today,” Charlie says as they sit in the car and wait for the dirtbag of the day to come home.

“You’re weird everyday,” she responds automatically. She doesn’t have to look over to know Charlie’s lips are a little pursed. In her head, she calls it the ‘pre-Zen’ look. Charlie does not disappoint.

“If you have a reason, you don’t need to shout.”

Dani considers that for a minute. “What?” she finally asks.

“I don’t know why you’re so happy, but it’s cool that you’re happy.”

“Oh.” Dani finally does glance at Charlie, and she smiles, just a little. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Charlie’s eyes flick back to the front door. “Hey, is that our guy?”

It is, in fact, they’re guy, and half a block later, Dani tackles him to the ground. “Bad move, dumbass.”

“Fuck off,” the guy says and looks a little scared when Dani grins.

“That wouldn’t be as much fun.”

*

Tidwell’s waiting when they walk in, the dirtbag in cuffs and looking pissed off. “Good work,” is all he says, but his eyes stay on Dani for just an extra second.

Dani nods sharply. “Thanks.”

Twenty minutes later they have a list of names. Thirty minutes after, they’re out the door again. Seven hours later, they’re back at the office. Dinner’s blown, Dani knows, and she won’t admit she’s in a funk.

“You’re in a funk,” Charlie tells her.

“Cram it,” she responds. She sighs a few seconds later and waves at Charlie’s calm expression. “Sorry. I just…I had plans. They’re shot now. Look, go on home; I’ll do the paperwork.”

“I can-”

“Get lost, Crews,” she cuts in before he can be nice.

He leaves quickly, only trying one more time to be nice and helpful.

Dani sits at her desk and stares at the paperwork. A burger, still in its wrapper, lands on the pile.

“Damned police work,” Tidwell says as he pulls up a chair and sits next to Dani’s desk. “Always gets in the way.”

“That why you have three ex-wives?” Dani unwraps her burger and pulls out the pickle, eating it first.

“Lots of reasons I have three ex-wives,” Tidwell responds. He places a soda next to Dani’s computer. “It’s just cola. I didn’t think you drank diet.”

“I don’t.” She sips it and smiles. “Thanks.”

Tidwell shrugs. “Eh, dinner’s all about the company, anyway.”

“Sure,” Dani says and means it. “This is pretty nice.”

2.

There’s a coffee shop two blocks south of the station. It serves coffee, tea, and plain bagels with plain cream cheese. It is possibly the very last, non-cappuccino coffee shop in all of Los Angeles. Tidwell discovers it early on a Wednesday morning. He’d left his apartment early for the sole purpose of scouting locations where the coffee couldn’t be used as an industrial sealant, and he wonders if he’s fallen down the rabbit hole when he walks in the front door.

The guy at the counter is thirtyish, and he smiles at Tidwell. “Good morning. What can we get you?”

“Coffee.”

“Regular or decaf?”

It’s like music to his ears. No French Roast. No espresso. No double-shot, half-foam nonsense. “Regular.”

The clerk rings him up and hands him a beige, ceramic coffee cup filled to the edge with plain old coffee. “Cream and sugar are on the counter to your left.”

Tidwell turns to drop in his single, necessary creamer, and comes face-to-face with Dani. Her hair’s back, and there are headphones slung around her neck. She’s in jogging shoes, track pants, and a gray T-shirt. “Detective,” Tidwell says because it’s the first thing that comes to mind.

“Captain.”

There’s a pause, mostly awkward, and then Dani steps to the left. “Excuse me,” she says and steps around him. Her arm brushes his arm.

Tidwell watches her walk to the counter. He watches her order. He’s still standing in the same place when she turns around again.

“What?” She asks, looking equal parts confused and annoyed.

“You’re up early.”

She grins a little. “Seriously? That’s what you’ve got?”

The amusement in her tone snaps Tidwell out of his fugue. He grins back at her. “Hey, gimmie a break. This is my first cup.”

“How’d you find this place?” Dani steps around him again. Her arm brushes his arm again.

“Dumb luck,” Tidwell responds and follows her to the counter. He dumps in his creamer and watches her make her own coffee. A sugar and a splash of half-and-half. “Kinda like running into you, I guess.”

“I’m here every morning,” Dani says, and there’s an undertone in her voice that Tidwell picks up. “I jog here.”

“I figured.” He waves a hand at her outfit. “You live far from here?”

“Far enough.”

He leads the way to a table and sits. Dani looks at him for a moment before sitting across from him. “I’m not gonna bite,” he tells her.

“Your bark’s worse, is it?”

“Something like that.”

Dani sips her coffee. She looks out the front window at the people walking by. “Did you really not read my file?” she asks after a minute.

“I really didn’t,” Tidwell says. “I hate those things. It’s like a laundry list of reasons to not trust people.”

“What’s your file say?” There’s a sly look in her eyes.

“A bunch of terrible things.”

“I don’t believe that.”

Tidwell sips his own coffee. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Dani responds.

3.

“A movie?” She says with her eyebrows up. “You called me in here to ask me to a movie?”

“The midnight movie place is showing Ghostbusters,” Tidwell says with a grin. He holds up the paper to show her the ad. “You like Ghostbusters?”

“Never seen it.”

“What?” Tidwell drops the newspaper. “How do you not see Ghostbusters?”

Dani shrugs. “I dunno. What’s the big deal?” Her shoulders are up a little, and she adjusts her footing. “It’s just a movie.”

“Just a-” Tidwell shakes his head. “Okay. Yeah. I called you in here to ask you out, but now you have to come.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You haven’t seen Ghostbusters. This is a truly tragic circumstance.”

“Do you listen to yourself talk?”

Tidwell waves away the comment. “Come on. Me. You. Bill Murray before he started looking creepily like my grandfather. I’ll buy you popcorn.”

Dani pulls a face. “I don’t like popcorn.”

Tidwell points a finger at her. “There’s something wrong with you.”

She shrugs. “There are a lot of things wrong with me.”

“Don’t eat popcorn,” Tidwell says with a shake of his head. “Never seen Ghostbusters. How I’m even attracted to you, I don’t know.”

“I’m a good shot.” There’s a small curve at the corner of Dani’s mouth. “Even with your gun.”

“That’s true. You’ve got that going for you.” Tidwell grins. “So, pick you up at eleven?”

Dani thinks about it for a minute. “You have to buy me Milk Duds.”

“Milk Duds, now we’re getting somewhere.”

4.

Dani gets to the scene and does a double-take when she recognizes Tidwell behind the tape. “I know you’re hands-on, but this is a bit much for a domestic shoot-out.”

“Crews called in sounding dead. I told him not to come in until he could actually talk again.”

“Ah.” Dani circles the body and crouches down. “Where’s the wife?”

“In cuffs in the ambulance. She took a beating before she blew off his head.”

“Probably took more than one beating.” Dani shifts when Tidwell crouches next to her.

“They kept a shotgun in the bedroom.” Tidwell leans in to get a better look at the wound. “She knew how to use it.”

“My kind of woman.” Dani stands and looks around the room. “So, they fought, he beat the shit out of her, and she blew off his head. Did she confess?”

“More than once. She admitted it to the uniform, the EMTs, and pretty much anyone else who’s wandered by. It’s an open-shut.”

“Still gotta talk to everyone.” Dani pulls her notebook from her jacket. “I’ll go left, you go right?”

“Sure. First one done buys dinner.”

Dani shakes her head and steps over the body. “I’m not taking that bet.”

“Fine, I’ll buy dinner anyway.”

Dani smiles as she exits the house. “Whatever.”

5.

“You look good.”

Dani pulls back her hair and secures it with a clip. “I look like a chump.”

“You look like a respected detective on her way to testify in an important, highly publicized case.” Tidwell raises his eyebrows when he looks at her feet. “And you’re wearing heels.”

“Juries think cops are supposed to be tall,” Dani explains. “Like John Wayne and Clint Eastwood.”

Tidwell considers that. “I think you’re pretty damned scary at five feet.”

“I’m five-two.”

“You’d still be scary at five feet.”

Dani grins. “Thanks. I think.”

“Oh, it’s a complete compliment.” There’s almost a leer on Tidwell’s face. “I like scary women. Scary women can take care of themselves.” He cocks his head when she looks away. “Sorry. Offensive?”

“No, not that. Just…” she shakes her head and rolls her eyes when a lock of hair springs loose. “Damnit.” She tucks it behind her ear before she looks at Tidwell again. “You think I can take care of myself?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“I’ve got a list.”

Tidwell scoffs. “Yeah, well, I’ll show you mine, you show me yours.”

“Mine’s longer.”

“Oh, I doubt that. Three ex-wives, remember?”

Dani smirks. “Dad’s a supercop, and a bastard. Mom’s a classic passive-aggressive, and-oh, yeah-I did a whole lot of drugs.”

“Still say mine’s gonna be longer.”

Dani reaches under her desk for her bag and smoothes her skirt as she straightens up. “Buy me a steak to start, and loser buys dessert.”

“Done,” Tidwell agrees. He holds out his hand, and they shake. “Now get your perfectly made-up butt to court.”

“See you later, boss.”

life, dani/tidwell

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