Watchmen (Super Sentai) Five Kink Meme

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Rules of the meme:

1. Anonymously(or not, because we seem to have stopped following this rule) post a pairing and prompt you would like to see written. Since this is a kink meme, there is supposted to be a kink involved, but normal well-written prompts should work just as well.

2. Anonymous will respond to your post and write it for you! Art and such

Comments

Re: Service Above Self part 9c

[anonymous]

The solution comes to Dan in the early morning, as he’s showering off the grime of a long, exhausting shift. It’s so obvious that he’s shocked he didn’t think of it months ago. He should be asking questions of the city-there’s a list at each precinct of criminals who've been brought in by masked heroes. Rorschach must have some clear, semi-predictable method of finding his prey. It seemed that there wouldn’t be any better sources of information than his fellow vigilantes, but of course, they were probably the worst people to ask-after his shift, Dan sits down and makes a list of civilians he should’ve talked to months ago. The landlady, the vendors by his apartment, bartenders in the area, criminals who’ve since been released; hell, any of Rorschach’s neighbors who Dan can corner would have better information. By the time he’s finished marking up his map and has listed everyone he can think of, Dan’s eyes are drooping from exhaustion.

He dreams of the dirty, twisted halls of Rorschach’s apartment building, of explaining to someone that he needs to talk to his brother (he’s got this incredibly red hair, never smiles-), of Rorschach’s glove covering his mouth-shh-

The room is warm when he wakes.

-

On Dan's next shift, he needs to catch up on paperwork, anyway, and when he asks the lieutenant if he expects to need Dan on the streets, the man just shrugs and waves his hand. For a few hours, Dan works on what he should, sips coffee and scribbles a few notes. He ends up idly flicking staples off his desk until several of the other cops end up flinging things at each other, too, an easy way to pass the time. Laughing, Dan excuses himself to the back or a break, and heads for the file room, where two tired secretaries smile at him and return to their work. Dan casually chats with Mrs. Smoot as he thumbs through the ‘trouble’ drawer; to his surprise, it’s already organized by vigilante, with the notable exceptions of Dr. Manhattan and the Comedian, who don't have anything on file. Dan flicks through Rorschach’s folder and takes out a thin handful of paper to make copies.

Neither of the women ask why he needs the files, and though their typing slows a little as he makes copies, it doesn’t stop. Dan is careful to return the files to their rightful place and lingers a little longer, asks about Mrs. Smoot's kids and Ms. Estes’ classes-“If you ever need some help, just ask,” he offers, to a knowing look between the women and a teasing “Mr. Harvard would make a hell of a tutor, huh?” from Mrs. Smoot. As the door closes behind him, he catches the faint words eligible bachelor, or maybe just-and his ears burn.

Just think about Rorschach, Dan tells himself. He’s gotten shit for his education ever since the academy, and the older he is, the more light teasing he suffers about ladies the other guys know, women who’d love to date him, that is, if he wants.…Actually, don’t think about Rorschach. He’s disturbed by the implications of both of those thoughts; thankfully, a stray pen flies past his head before he can backtrack and dig a deeper mental hole.

-

The least safe option, and the one Dan pursues first, is Rorschach’s landlady. He considers going in uniform, but odds are pretty good that it would make her clam up, so he puts on an unassuming pair of slacks and the cleanest shirt he can find. He practices a couple of stories in the mirror: I’m his cousin, his sister’s husband, a long-lost son he never knew he had-and settles on coworker, which has the most flexibility. He leaves the house by noon, steeling his nerves. Halfway there, he buys a pretzel and slathers cheese on it to distract himself, and spends half the walk eating and the rest licking cheese off his hands. It’s easy to find the tenement building again; he doesn’t hesitate at the front steps, just walks in and pauses, looking for the office.

One door is ajar, and there’s a sign so grimy and faded that Dan can only make out the letters AND and ICE. A little girl with matted brown hair slips past him to go outside. Dan glances at the metal stairs, listening for the sounds of doors slamming.

“Can I help you?”