Fic: Re-Animator/From Beyond, "Things in Common"
Title: Things in Common
Fandom: Re-Animator/From Beyond (Bro'verse)
Pairings: Herbert/Dan; Crawford/Bubba
Rating: PG-13 (thematic elements)
Word Count: 2415
Summary: Herbert takes exception to his brother's taste in men.
A/N: This was really hard to write and I have no idea why.
Bro'verse Master Post: HERE
Herbert was down in his lab, not working, just sitting at a table, frowning a little and tapping a pencil against a notebook.
"You look deep in thought," Dan remarked.
"Because I am," Herbert said, gaze still unwaveringly inward.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Heads."
"Ah. That's nice. Well-"
"Do you suppose that the reason Hill retained cognitive abilities is because as just a head, the re-agent was more concentrated in the brain?"
"It's a reasonable hypothesis I suppose. And you can start planning ways to get fresh heads, without killing this time, as long as you're upstairs by 6:00."
Herbert blinked and finally returned his attention to his surroundings and Dan. "Why? What's happening at 6:00?"
"We're having company over for dinner."
"Since when?"
"Since a week ago."
"You didn't say anything."
"Of course not. Didn't want to give you the time to worm out of it."
Herbert looked at his watch. "I still have an hour..."
"Last time I cooked a full meal it turned out I did it for nothing. I refuse to let that happen again. You're coming up for dinner and company."
"What company?"
"Crawford and his- ah- friend."
"Friend? Not that boss of his!"
"No, another friend. A boyfriend, maybe, I think."
Herbert straightened in his seat. "He doesn't have one of those! When? How?"
"That's what I hope to find out as well as encouraging Crawford in widening his society."
"You're just nosy."
"I feel someone around here should be taking an interest in Crawford's life and make sure he isn't dating a murderer."
"Because that's the standard we abide by here."
"I went into this fully knowing you're a creep. Crawford's a bit more innocent isn't he?"
"Poor little Crawford. Let's shield him from the world, put him in a plastic bubble and protect him from all the nasty things and people that could hurt him. No wonder he's such a muffin."
Dan gave Herbert one last warning-filled look before heading back to the kitchen. He wasn't trying anything too special for dinner. The fact alone it wasn't take-out or frozen pizza was testament enough of the extra effort he was going through for the occasion.
It was getting close to the arranged time. Dan set the table in their little-used dining room. He shouted down the stairs for Herbert even knowing he wouldn't hear Dan if he had the heavy metal door to the lab shut.
At 6:00 on the dot, there was no sign of their guests. Herbert came upstairs on time, though, looking sulky. Dan gave him a glance over to make sure there were no blood and chemical stains on him. "Good, you're presentable."
"You make me sound like a flower arrangement."
Dan was about to retort, but that's when the bell rang. He grabbed Herbert's arm and forced him along to greet Crawford and his friend at the door. "Don't be rude," Dan said right before he unlocked the door and pulled it open.
"You're a cop!"
"I'm flattered you remember me, Dr. West," said the tall man standing next to Crawford on the porch with a grin.
Crawford cleared his throat. "Dan, Herbert, this is Buford Brownlee."
"Call me Bubba."
"A cop!" Herbert repeated. "Crawford, a word." He grabbed his brother's wrist and dragged him into the kitchen leaving Dan alone with Bubba.
"Nice to see you again, Dr. Cain. Hope you've learned the benefits of moderation now." He laughed.
"I- uh- I'm sorry. Have we met?" Perhaps he had been one of the investigators after the Massacre?
"New Years Eve?" Bubba suggested.
Right. That again. Dan grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, that night's a bit of a blind spot."
"Can't say I'm surprised."
Dan sighed. "So, New Years, that's when you met Crawford, huh?"
"Yeah. Oh, by the way, we brought wine."
"What is wrong with you? Why did you bring a cop. Here?"
"Dan invited us."
"Did you ever tell him your new 'friend' is a cop."
"No, it didn't seem important."
"Not im- You do know what we do, what we have downstairs?"
"Don't take him downstairs."
"He'll snoop."
"Herbert, no he won't. He's here as a guest, not with a warrant."
Herbert's eyes narrowed. "Could be undercover. Your whole relationship could be a ruse."
"Don't... Don't say that. You're just being mean and paranoid. Like always. Bubba's with me because he likes me."
"Fine. New theory: You're dating him just to spite me."
"The whole world, especially not mine, doesn't revolve around you!"
"See Herbert, what have I been telling you the past two years?" Dan said, wandering in at that moment.
"What are you doing?"
"Wine glasses."
"You left him alone!?" Herbert raced out of the room hoping to catch the cop in time before he started prying into inconvenient places.
Bubba, of course, was doing no such thing. He was in the dining room, hands on his hips. "I must say, this is exactly how I imagined where you'd live, doc."
"We all hold doctorates here, Sergeant."
"Call me Bubba."
"I think I won't. And as I was trying to say, if you insist on using that nickname around here, it could get confusing."
"Good point. How about I call you 'Little Doc'?"
"Dr. West is more than suitable."
"You can call him Herbert." Dan carried two wine glasses in one hand and the corkscrew in the other. Crawford trailed behind with the other pair of glasses. "Sit down, Herbert. Play nice," Dan said, a slight growl in Herbert's ear.
Herbert sat, but did not relinquish the death glare he kept on the sergeant.
"Looks good," Bubba said, eying the food.
"Oh, it's nothing. We really don't cook much," Dan replied, serving mashed potatoes and peas.
Herbert groaned. Small talk. It was hateful at the best of times, horrendous with unwanted company. After everything was served, he was thankfully granted a few minutes quiet while everyone's mouths were otherwise occupied. Herbert hoped that making his appearance and swallowing a couple bites of Dan's mediocre cooking would mean he could cut-out quickly.
"So, you've worked for Arkham PD long?" Dan was trying to sound casual, but there was the smallest note of edginess. Perhaps having a cop around was making him uneasy, too, despite his earlier posturing. Dan's hypocrisy was a constant source of amusement.
"About four years," Bubba answered. "Was a flat foot in Chicago before."
"Chicago? Herbert grew-up in that area."
A nice, if obvious attempt at including him in the conversation. Herbert was having none of it. He pressed his heel into Dan's toes. Herbert continued eating and tried to pretend the rest of them didn't exist.
"He wasn't always a cop," Crawford chimed in. "He used to play football."
"Really?" Dan perked up like a dog being handed a bone.
Herbert set his fork down, ready to bolt. Herbert couldn't stand sports. He was grossly disappointed that Dan's interesting little raven tattoo was nothing more than a high school athletics souvenir.
"You played professionally?" Dan was practically salivating at the chance to talk football.
"Yup."
"What position?"
"Center back."
Even Crawford sent Herbert a dismayed look, equally uninterested in the topic.
Oblivious, Dan kept asking questions. "Why quit?"
"'Why start?' was the real question. I guess because football scholarships got me into college, I felt obligated to pursue it. But it was while in college I became interested in law enforcement."
"But, pro. NFL right?"
Bubba just shrugged. "Ain't so sexy when you're not first string. Besides, as I said, heart just wasn't in it. But helping people, save lives? Our businesses ain't so different, doc."
Herbert snorted. Dan kicked him under the table. Herbert had enough, and his head hurt. He shoved himself away from the table and stood to leave without apology.
Dan grabbed his wrist, halting his retreat. "If you can't be polite, you can be useful. Take some of the dishes to the kitchen before you skulk off somewhere."
Herbert's jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. He was not going to be ordered about! He looked at Crawford, expression embarrassed yet resigned. Bubba was slightly amused and anticipatory. The cop was expecting a scene.
Well, he wasn't going to give that satisfaction. Wordlessly, he grabbed the plates. "Thank you," Dan called after him. Herbert scowled and tossed them in the sink, uncaring if a couple of them chipped.
"I have the wine glasses," said Crawford.
"Congratulations."
Crawford set the three used and one untouched glass on the counter. "I suppose it was stupid of me to think you'd even make the smallest effort."
"Yes, it was. I mean, what can you possibly have in common? You don't even breathe the same atmosphere."
Crawford rinsed out the glasses. "Being around him, I feel warm, safe, happy," he said, blushing. "Surely, it can't be so different from the way you feel about Dan."
"I am appalled to share DNA with you." Herbert started for the door, Crawford's next question stopped him.
"Does it hurt?"
"What?"
Crawford blushed harder, he shifted his eyes to the floor and fidgeted. "Sex."
"What, your mother didn't give you 'the talk' when you got your first period?"
"I'm asking you because you're the one who has most recently been in my place. Maybe you'd understand and empathize a little."
"Empathize? I want you too go look up the word 'sociopath' in the dictionary, Crawfish, and leave me alone. I'm going upstairs."
"You know, we could organize a police/doctor's match. Could be fun," Bubba was saying.
"Sell tickets for charity?"
"Not a bad idea."
Crawford came back out of the kitchen. "Dan, do you have a dictionary?"
"Regular or medical?"
"Either, I think. Or both."
"Try the study."
"Okay. Herbert went to his room for the rest of the night by the way." He disappeared down the hall.
Dan sighed. "Just as well."
"You know, I have to say, I really don't get you two."
Dan cleared his throat and changed the subject. "You meet the sister yet?"
"No, but Crawford's mentioned her a couple times."
"If she knows about you, I'm surprised she hasn't insisted on a meeting yet, get vetted."
"Vetted?"
Dan reached for his wine glass, frowned, forgetting that Crawford already cleared those, too. "I had to have a little 'interview' over Thanksgiving."
Bubba hissed in sympathy. "What she like?"
Dan took a moment to consider his answer. "Well, if you think Sweet Valley High are geniuses, she's got all that plus eight years extra life experience. If she wasn't nice, she'd be terrifying."
Herbert snuck back down the stairs. Somehow, he completely expected to find his brother in Dan's study. And there he was, just closing a large book and sliding back on the shelf. Herbert shoved a couple books he took from his bedroom at his twin. "Here."
Crawford jumped. He hadn't heard nor seen Herbert come in the room. He did take the proffered books. "What's this?"
"I don't need them any more."
Crawford examined the titles, his eyebrows shot up."Oh! Uh, thanks. I looked up that word, you know. This gesture doesn't quite fit with the definition."
Herbert grimaced. "I know." He frowned, and rubbed his thumb between his brows. His frown deepened.
"Are you okay?"
"Nothing. A headache."
"Really? I've been trying to ignore one, too, ever since I got here."
"Whatever. I'm going back to my room."
Crawford looked at his watch. "It is getting late. Should probably get going."
"Are they still talking about football?"
"Last I walked through."
Herbert beat a hasty retreat.
"It was nice meeting you, Dan," Bubba said as they shook hands. "Even if it was for the second time."
"You, too. See you again soon."
Crawford re-emerged from the study holding a couple books.
"What you got there, little man?" Bubba asked.
Crawford tucked the books up under his arm, obscuring the covers. "Just a couple things Herbert gave me."
"Gave you?" Dan eyed them with concern. "You should check and make sure the pages haven't been laced with poison."
"I think he was being sincerely nice," Crawford said as Bubba helped him into his coat. "I'm kind of worried, actually."
"Where is he now?"
"Went right back upstairs."
Dan nodded. He said his farewells and smiled as he watched Bubba put on arm around Crawford's shoulder on their way to the car. It made Dan happy to see Crawford with someone so deserving. He was sure Jeanine would feel the same way. Some day maybe they'd be one big happy family. Well, most of them anyway.
Herbert was sat on his bed, scribbling in his notebook. "You feeling all right?" Dan asked.
"Fine. Headache earlier. Gone now."
"Because Crawford and Bubba are gone. You let yourself get so worked-up tonight. No wonder you gave yourself a stress headache."
"I don't want cops in this house, Dan, ever."
"That's fine. We've been invited 'round to Bubba's next time. He's suppose to be pretty good in the kitchen."
"Must we call him that? How is that going to sound? So sorry, Dr. Vale, can't be on call tonight. We have a pressing engagement with Bubba."
"Well, Crawford's already been given the 'Him' moniker. What would you rather call him? 'That cop guy?'"
"Or something close..."
Dan flopped on the bed, stretched out, hands behind his head. Herbert grunted in annoyance at being jostled, but kept writing. "What are you doing?"
"You usually call it 'plotting,'" Herbert paused. "Do you suppose three will be enough?"
"Three what?"
"Heads."
Ah, that still. "I think we'll be taking a risk trying to take more than one from the morgue if that's your idea."
"Where else can I get them fresh? Will have to make sure the deaths weren't head-related. No skull fractures, blood clots, brain tumors..."
"Hey," Dan grinned and nudged Herbert's hip with his toes, "how do you feel about putting the notebook away and think about a different sort of head?"
"Such an easy transition for you from discussing severed heads to wanting sex."
"You're a corrupting influence."
"Thank you."
Dan got up and knelt behind Herbert. He snaked his arms around the smaller man's chest and rested his chin over Herbert's shoulder. Herbert grunted and shifted so he could still comfortably write. "All work and no play..." Dan teased.
"Means I get more things accomplished in life."
Dan sighed and fell back on the mattress again. "Can I stay here?"
"Whatever you want."
"Maybe sex later?"
"Maybe."
Dan closed his eyes and smiled. "Cool."
Fandom: Re-Animator/From Beyond (Bro'verse)
Pairings: Herbert/Dan; Crawford/Bubba
Rating: PG-13 (thematic elements)
Word Count: 2415
Summary: Herbert takes exception to his brother's taste in men.
A/N: This was really hard to write and I have no idea why.
Bro'verse Master Post: HERE
Herbert was down in his lab, not working, just sitting at a table, frowning a little and tapping a pencil against a notebook.
"You look deep in thought," Dan remarked.
"Because I am," Herbert said, gaze still unwaveringly inward.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Heads."
"Ah. That's nice. Well-"
"Do you suppose that the reason Hill retained cognitive abilities is because as just a head, the re-agent was more concentrated in the brain?"
"It's a reasonable hypothesis I suppose. And you can start planning ways to get fresh heads, without killing this time, as long as you're upstairs by 6:00."
Herbert blinked and finally returned his attention to his surroundings and Dan. "Why? What's happening at 6:00?"
"We're having company over for dinner."
"Since when?"
"Since a week ago."
"You didn't say anything."
"Of course not. Didn't want to give you the time to worm out of it."
Herbert looked at his watch. "I still have an hour..."
"Last time I cooked a full meal it turned out I did it for nothing. I refuse to let that happen again. You're coming up for dinner and company."
"What company?"
"Crawford and his- ah- friend."
"Friend? Not that boss of his!"
"No, another friend. A boyfriend, maybe, I think."
Herbert straightened in his seat. "He doesn't have one of those! When? How?"
"That's what I hope to find out as well as encouraging Crawford in widening his society."
"You're just nosy."
"I feel someone around here should be taking an interest in Crawford's life and make sure he isn't dating a murderer."
"Because that's the standard we abide by here."
"I went into this fully knowing you're a creep. Crawford's a bit more innocent isn't he?"
"Poor little Crawford. Let's shield him from the world, put him in a plastic bubble and protect him from all the nasty things and people that could hurt him. No wonder he's such a muffin."
Dan gave Herbert one last warning-filled look before heading back to the kitchen. He wasn't trying anything too special for dinner. The fact alone it wasn't take-out or frozen pizza was testament enough of the extra effort he was going through for the occasion.
It was getting close to the arranged time. Dan set the table in their little-used dining room. He shouted down the stairs for Herbert even knowing he wouldn't hear Dan if he had the heavy metal door to the lab shut.
At 6:00 on the dot, there was no sign of their guests. Herbert came upstairs on time, though, looking sulky. Dan gave him a glance over to make sure there were no blood and chemical stains on him. "Good, you're presentable."
"You make me sound like a flower arrangement."
Dan was about to retort, but that's when the bell rang. He grabbed Herbert's arm and forced him along to greet Crawford and his friend at the door. "Don't be rude," Dan said right before he unlocked the door and pulled it open.
"You're a cop!"
"I'm flattered you remember me, Dr. West," said the tall man standing next to Crawford on the porch with a grin.
Crawford cleared his throat. "Dan, Herbert, this is Buford Brownlee."
"Call me Bubba."
"A cop!" Herbert repeated. "Crawford, a word." He grabbed his brother's wrist and dragged him into the kitchen leaving Dan alone with Bubba.
"Nice to see you again, Dr. Cain. Hope you've learned the benefits of moderation now." He laughed.
"I- uh- I'm sorry. Have we met?" Perhaps he had been one of the investigators after the Massacre?
"New Years Eve?" Bubba suggested.
Right. That again. Dan grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, that night's a bit of a blind spot."
"Can't say I'm surprised."
Dan sighed. "So, New Years, that's when you met Crawford, huh?"
"Yeah. Oh, by the way, we brought wine."
"What is wrong with you? Why did you bring a cop. Here?"
"Dan invited us."
"Did you ever tell him your new 'friend' is a cop."
"No, it didn't seem important."
"Not im- You do know what we do, what we have downstairs?"
"Don't take him downstairs."
"He'll snoop."
"Herbert, no he won't. He's here as a guest, not with a warrant."
Herbert's eyes narrowed. "Could be undercover. Your whole relationship could be a ruse."
"Don't... Don't say that. You're just being mean and paranoid. Like always. Bubba's with me because he likes me."
"Fine. New theory: You're dating him just to spite me."
"The whole world, especially not mine, doesn't revolve around you!"
"See Herbert, what have I been telling you the past two years?" Dan said, wandering in at that moment.
"What are you doing?"
"Wine glasses."
"You left him alone!?" Herbert raced out of the room hoping to catch the cop in time before he started prying into inconvenient places.
Bubba, of course, was doing no such thing. He was in the dining room, hands on his hips. "I must say, this is exactly how I imagined where you'd live, doc."
"We all hold doctorates here, Sergeant."
"Call me Bubba."
"I think I won't. And as I was trying to say, if you insist on using that nickname around here, it could get confusing."
"Good point. How about I call you 'Little Doc'?"
"Dr. West is more than suitable."
"You can call him Herbert." Dan carried two wine glasses in one hand and the corkscrew in the other. Crawford trailed behind with the other pair of glasses. "Sit down, Herbert. Play nice," Dan said, a slight growl in Herbert's ear.
Herbert sat, but did not relinquish the death glare he kept on the sergeant.
"Looks good," Bubba said, eying the food.
"Oh, it's nothing. We really don't cook much," Dan replied, serving mashed potatoes and peas.
Herbert groaned. Small talk. It was hateful at the best of times, horrendous with unwanted company. After everything was served, he was thankfully granted a few minutes quiet while everyone's mouths were otherwise occupied. Herbert hoped that making his appearance and swallowing a couple bites of Dan's mediocre cooking would mean he could cut-out quickly.
"So, you've worked for Arkham PD long?" Dan was trying to sound casual, but there was the smallest note of edginess. Perhaps having a cop around was making him uneasy, too, despite his earlier posturing. Dan's hypocrisy was a constant source of amusement.
"About four years," Bubba answered. "Was a flat foot in Chicago before."
"Chicago? Herbert grew-up in that area."
A nice, if obvious attempt at including him in the conversation. Herbert was having none of it. He pressed his heel into Dan's toes. Herbert continued eating and tried to pretend the rest of them didn't exist.
"He wasn't always a cop," Crawford chimed in. "He used to play football."
"Really?" Dan perked up like a dog being handed a bone.
Herbert set his fork down, ready to bolt. Herbert couldn't stand sports. He was grossly disappointed that Dan's interesting little raven tattoo was nothing more than a high school athletics souvenir.
"You played professionally?" Dan was practically salivating at the chance to talk football.
"Yup."
"What position?"
"Center back."
Even Crawford sent Herbert a dismayed look, equally uninterested in the topic.
Oblivious, Dan kept asking questions. "Why quit?"
"'Why start?' was the real question. I guess because football scholarships got me into college, I felt obligated to pursue it. But it was while in college I became interested in law enforcement."
"But, pro. NFL right?"
Bubba just shrugged. "Ain't so sexy when you're not first string. Besides, as I said, heart just wasn't in it. But helping people, save lives? Our businesses ain't so different, doc."
Herbert snorted. Dan kicked him under the table. Herbert had enough, and his head hurt. He shoved himself away from the table and stood to leave without apology.
Dan grabbed his wrist, halting his retreat. "If you can't be polite, you can be useful. Take some of the dishes to the kitchen before you skulk off somewhere."
Herbert's jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. He was not going to be ordered about! He looked at Crawford, expression embarrassed yet resigned. Bubba was slightly amused and anticipatory. The cop was expecting a scene.
Well, he wasn't going to give that satisfaction. Wordlessly, he grabbed the plates. "Thank you," Dan called after him. Herbert scowled and tossed them in the sink, uncaring if a couple of them chipped.
"I have the wine glasses," said Crawford.
"Congratulations."
Crawford set the three used and one untouched glass on the counter. "I suppose it was stupid of me to think you'd even make the smallest effort."
"Yes, it was. I mean, what can you possibly have in common? You don't even breathe the same atmosphere."
Crawford rinsed out the glasses. "Being around him, I feel warm, safe, happy," he said, blushing. "Surely, it can't be so different from the way you feel about Dan."
"I am appalled to share DNA with you." Herbert started for the door, Crawford's next question stopped him.
"Does it hurt?"
"What?"
Crawford blushed harder, he shifted his eyes to the floor and fidgeted. "Sex."
"What, your mother didn't give you 'the talk' when you got your first period?"
"I'm asking you because you're the one who has most recently been in my place. Maybe you'd understand and empathize a little."
"Empathize? I want you too go look up the word 'sociopath' in the dictionary, Crawfish, and leave me alone. I'm going upstairs."
"You know, we could organize a police/doctor's match. Could be fun," Bubba was saying.
"Sell tickets for charity?"
"Not a bad idea."
Crawford came back out of the kitchen. "Dan, do you have a dictionary?"
"Regular or medical?"
"Either, I think. Or both."
"Try the study."
"Okay. Herbert went to his room for the rest of the night by the way." He disappeared down the hall.
Dan sighed. "Just as well."
"You know, I have to say, I really don't get you two."
Dan cleared his throat and changed the subject. "You meet the sister yet?"
"No, but Crawford's mentioned her a couple times."
"If she knows about you, I'm surprised she hasn't insisted on a meeting yet, get vetted."
"Vetted?"
Dan reached for his wine glass, frowned, forgetting that Crawford already cleared those, too. "I had to have a little 'interview' over Thanksgiving."
Bubba hissed in sympathy. "What she like?"
Dan took a moment to consider his answer. "Well, if you think Sweet Valley High are geniuses, she's got all that plus eight years extra life experience. If she wasn't nice, she'd be terrifying."
Herbert snuck back down the stairs. Somehow, he completely expected to find his brother in Dan's study. And there he was, just closing a large book and sliding back on the shelf. Herbert shoved a couple books he took from his bedroom at his twin. "Here."
Crawford jumped. He hadn't heard nor seen Herbert come in the room. He did take the proffered books. "What's this?"
"I don't need them any more."
Crawford examined the titles, his eyebrows shot up."Oh! Uh, thanks. I looked up that word, you know. This gesture doesn't quite fit with the definition."
Herbert grimaced. "I know." He frowned, and rubbed his thumb between his brows. His frown deepened.
"Are you okay?"
"Nothing. A headache."
"Really? I've been trying to ignore one, too, ever since I got here."
"Whatever. I'm going back to my room."
Crawford looked at his watch. "It is getting late. Should probably get going."
"Are they still talking about football?"
"Last I walked through."
Herbert beat a hasty retreat.
"It was nice meeting you, Dan," Bubba said as they shook hands. "Even if it was for the second time."
"You, too. See you again soon."
Crawford re-emerged from the study holding a couple books.
"What you got there, little man?" Bubba asked.
Crawford tucked the books up under his arm, obscuring the covers. "Just a couple things Herbert gave me."
"Gave you?" Dan eyed them with concern. "You should check and make sure the pages haven't been laced with poison."
"I think he was being sincerely nice," Crawford said as Bubba helped him into his coat. "I'm kind of worried, actually."
"Where is he now?"
"Went right back upstairs."
Dan nodded. He said his farewells and smiled as he watched Bubba put on arm around Crawford's shoulder on their way to the car. It made Dan happy to see Crawford with someone so deserving. He was sure Jeanine would feel the same way. Some day maybe they'd be one big happy family. Well, most of them anyway.
Herbert was sat on his bed, scribbling in his notebook. "You feeling all right?" Dan asked.
"Fine. Headache earlier. Gone now."
"Because Crawford and Bubba are gone. You let yourself get so worked-up tonight. No wonder you gave yourself a stress headache."
"I don't want cops in this house, Dan, ever."
"That's fine. We've been invited 'round to Bubba's next time. He's suppose to be pretty good in the kitchen."
"Must we call him that? How is that going to sound? So sorry, Dr. Vale, can't be on call tonight. We have a pressing engagement with Bubba."
"Well, Crawford's already been given the 'Him' moniker. What would you rather call him? 'That cop guy?'"
"Or something close..."
Dan flopped on the bed, stretched out, hands behind his head. Herbert grunted in annoyance at being jostled, but kept writing. "What are you doing?"
"You usually call it 'plotting,'" Herbert paused. "Do you suppose three will be enough?"
"Three what?"
"Heads."
Ah, that still. "I think we'll be taking a risk trying to take more than one from the morgue if that's your idea."
"Where else can I get them fresh? Will have to make sure the deaths weren't head-related. No skull fractures, blood clots, brain tumors..."
"Hey," Dan grinned and nudged Herbert's hip with his toes, "how do you feel about putting the notebook away and think about a different sort of head?"
"Such an easy transition for you from discussing severed heads to wanting sex."
"You're a corrupting influence."
"Thank you."
Dan got up and knelt behind Herbert. He snaked his arms around the smaller man's chest and rested his chin over Herbert's shoulder. Herbert grunted and shifted so he could still comfortably write. "All work and no play..." Dan teased.
"Means I get more things accomplished in life."
Dan sighed and fell back on the mattress again. "Can I stay here?"
"Whatever you want."
"Maybe sex later?"
"Maybe."
Dan closed his eyes and smiled. "Cool."