Fic: Like A Fish (Hot Fuzz)
Title: Like A Fish
Fandom: Hot Fuzz
Author: dr-tectonic
Word Count: 1200
Rating: PG fer cussin'
Pairings: NA/DB
Warnings: Plotless fluff. Eldritch horror. Self-indulgent geekery.
Summary: Nick & Danny get ready to go out for dinner.
Disclaimer: Not mine, obviously. (Though HPL is public domain! Probably.)
Author's Notes: A little nothing in response to the "post happy fluff!" prompt of a couple weeks ago. It could be tightened up a bit (and I have some lovely beta notes from annlarimer), but that's clearly not going to happen, so I'm posting it as-is rather than letting it languish unread any longer.
"Danny, what's this?" Nicholas Angel contemplated a stuffed... something. It was small, green, and plush, and he would have called it a cuddly toy except for all the tentacles. And the wings. And the strangely bumpy head with evil orange eyes. It had been sitting on top of the small television in Danny Butterman's bedroom.
Danny leaned his head out of the bathroom. "Oh, him? That's dread plush Cthulhu, that is." He pronounced the name, as best Angel could tell, having only ever read it, correctly. Danny turned back to the mirror. "Oh, dammit, now I've messed up me tie." He started over, muttering. "Twice 'round the tree and into the hole..."
Angel looked askance at the thing in his hands. "What, as in H.P. Lovecraft? Eldritch terror from beyond the depths of time and space?"
"Yeah. Cute, innie?" Danny had finished tying his tie, approximately ten inches too short. He undid it and began again.
"That's just not right."
"Why not?"
"Lovecraft wrote stories about cosmic horror. Sanity-shattering monsters like Kith- Cthloo- like this chap here were representative of a state of existential fear and loathing induced by recognition of the universe as a fundamentally alien and uncaring place beyond the comprehension of mere mortals."
Danny leaned out once more to quirk a skeptical eyebrow at him as he finished snugging the knot on his tie, properly tied at last. "You ever actually read any Lovecraft?"
"Well- no. I read about Lovecraft for a class-"
"Becos," said Danny, cutting him off and running a wet comb through his hair, "that cosmic horror stuff may well be what he meant to write, but what he actually wrote was the most gawd-awful hi-la-rious purple prose you ever did lay eye on. Pfwoar! Poor bastard must've been mainlining printer's ink and smoking pages from 'is thesaurus. Ser'sly, 'rugose'? 'Glabrous'? Those ain't even words!"
"Actually, if I recall correctly, 'rugose' means- gah!" he broke off, startled by a cold spray of water flicked from the comb. A cheeky Butterman grin let him know that he'd been well and truly baited. Angel flushed. "Ooo, you!"
"'Ere." Danny plucked the green monstrosity from his hands and set it atop Nick's head. "Don't drop 'im." He addresed the Cthulhu. "Careful, now, or you might fall off. His head is quite round."
Nicholas gave him a bemused glare, but Danny had already turned away to rummage in the closet. Against all probability, it appeared that Danny owned a suit. A nice one. It hung handsomely on his frame- good god, was it tailored?
Danny checked himself in the mirror then turned to Nick. "Clean up good, don't I?"
Nicholas almost started to nod, then remembered and instead said, "You do. Danny... why is there a small green monster sitting on my head?"
"Well he can't ride on my head, he'd get hair gel all over 'is bum."
"I can see how that would be an impediment. Is this head-sitting in some way necessary?"
"Head-top is his preferred mode of travel. That way 'e can eat your sanity while he rides. Mmm, sanities! Om nom nom nom!" He flopped the doll down so its tentacles dangled just above Angel's eyes, the better for it to munch upon his brain, presumably, then stepped out into the living room.
"Om nom nom?" asked Angel, being careful, for reasons he couldn't quite articulate, not to dislodge the beastie from his cranium as he followed.
"It's lollish."
"What?"
"You know, lolcats? Pictures of kitties with funny captions an' shit? 'S brilliant, I'll show you when we get back. Kawaii as fuck, too."
"Kawaii? That's a Japanese word." He looked askance at his partner.
"Is it? Didn't know that." He removed the doll from Angel's head, flapping its wings with his thumbs and making little zooming noises, and landed it on the head of the cuddly monkey sitting on the corner of the couch. "There you go. You keep Monkey company while we're out, eh? Keep an eye on him, Monkey! Don't let him get into trouble. All set to go?"
It took Nicholas a moment to realize that that last question had been addressed to him. "Oh! Yes. Where are we going, again?"
"Chateau Cygne. 'S just outside Bristol."
"That's... quite an exclusive restaurant. Are you sure we'll be able to get in?"
"Oh yeah. I made reservations."
Angel had a feeling of sinking trepidation. The unexpected invitation for this evening had only come at lunchtime. "Danny, people queue up months in advance to get on their reservation list. Not that I doubt your ingenuity, but... how did you get reservations?"
Danny winked and tapped his temple. "Turns out they've got a website, and you can jump on cancellations if you pay attention."
The sinking feeling dropped further. He cast a worried glance at the laptop perched on the only clear corner of the kitchen table. It was battered and bulky, a cast-off he'd rescued on a lark, thinking that maybe Danny would be entertained enough by computer solitaire that he'd start learning how to use the mouse and finally be able to do some of his paperwork in electronic format, at considerable cost savings to the station.
"Danny... your computer doesn't have an internet connection yet. We never set you up with an ISP."
"Yeah, but Mrs. Upholder 'cross the back yard does. Turns out I can pick up her wifi signal pretty strong so long as I'm in the back half of the house."
"You're using Mrs. Upholder's network? That's a bit like stealing, isn't it?"
"Naw. I tried to guess her WEP key, but since she didn't use her cat's name or anythin', I had to do some social engineering to crack it. Which is to say, I went over and asked her for it." He smiled. "Good thing, too. She's got 32-bit encryption on, and a brute-force attack could've taken quite some time."
The sinking feeling transmuted into the floaty sensation of an elevator in free-fall as Nicholas realized that the bottom had just fallen out of his world. It would seem that Constable Butterman had taken to the laptop like a duck to water. No, like a fish to water.
Danny? Internet? What? It just didn't compute.
So to speak.
"Who are you, and what have you done with Danny?" he asked.
Danny just grinned. "You're cute." He leaned in and kissed Nicholas on the cheek. "You can learn all kinds of stuff on th' internet, Nicholas. 'Snot just for porn."
"I told you, it was Doris that went to that website-" began Nicholas, flushing.
"It's an Avenue Q reference," interrupted Danny, rolling his eyes. "Try t' keep up. C'mon!" he grabbed Nicholas's arm and pulled him toward the door. "We're gonna be late if we're not careful. Don't get into trouble, you two!" he called to the cuddly toys. There was the sound of the door slamming, their feet on the front stairs, the car pulling away, and then they were gone. A comfortable silence descended.
Herro! said the Cthulhu to the monkey. Hoo-mons all gone. We can haz fun tiems nao?
Oh, sweet Jesus, said the monkey.
Fandom: Hot Fuzz
Author: dr-tectonic
Word Count: 1200
Rating: PG fer cussin'
Pairings: NA/DB
Warnings: Plotless fluff. Eldritch horror. Self-indulgent geekery.
Summary: Nick & Danny get ready to go out for dinner.
Disclaimer: Not mine, obviously. (Though HPL is public domain! Probably.)
Author's Notes: A little nothing in response to the "post happy fluff!" prompt of a couple weeks ago. It could be tightened up a bit (and I have some lovely beta notes from annlarimer), but that's clearly not going to happen, so I'm posting it as-is rather than letting it languish unread any longer.
"Danny, what's this?" Nicholas Angel contemplated a stuffed... something. It was small, green, and plush, and he would have called it a cuddly toy except for all the tentacles. And the wings. And the strangely bumpy head with evil orange eyes. It had been sitting on top of the small television in Danny Butterman's bedroom.
Danny leaned his head out of the bathroom. "Oh, him? That's dread plush Cthulhu, that is." He pronounced the name, as best Angel could tell, having only ever read it, correctly. Danny turned back to the mirror. "Oh, dammit, now I've messed up me tie." He started over, muttering. "Twice 'round the tree and into the hole..."
Angel looked askance at the thing in his hands. "What, as in H.P. Lovecraft? Eldritch terror from beyond the depths of time and space?"
"Yeah. Cute, innie?" Danny had finished tying his tie, approximately ten inches too short. He undid it and began again.
"That's just not right."
"Why not?"
"Lovecraft wrote stories about cosmic horror. Sanity-shattering monsters like Kith- Cthloo- like this chap here were representative of a state of existential fear and loathing induced by recognition of the universe as a fundamentally alien and uncaring place beyond the comprehension of mere mortals."
Danny leaned out once more to quirk a skeptical eyebrow at him as he finished snugging the knot on his tie, properly tied at last. "You ever actually read any Lovecraft?"
"Well- no. I read about Lovecraft for a class-"
"Becos," said Danny, cutting him off and running a wet comb through his hair, "that cosmic horror stuff may well be what he meant to write, but what he actually wrote was the most gawd-awful hi-la-rious purple prose you ever did lay eye on. Pfwoar! Poor bastard must've been mainlining printer's ink and smoking pages from 'is thesaurus. Ser'sly, 'rugose'? 'Glabrous'? Those ain't even words!"
"Actually, if I recall correctly, 'rugose' means- gah!" he broke off, startled by a cold spray of water flicked from the comb. A cheeky Butterman grin let him know that he'd been well and truly baited. Angel flushed. "Ooo, you!"
"'Ere." Danny plucked the green monstrosity from his hands and set it atop Nick's head. "Don't drop 'im." He addresed the Cthulhu. "Careful, now, or you might fall off. His head is quite round."
Nicholas gave him a bemused glare, but Danny had already turned away to rummage in the closet. Against all probability, it appeared that Danny owned a suit. A nice one. It hung handsomely on his frame- good god, was it tailored?
Danny checked himself in the mirror then turned to Nick. "Clean up good, don't I?"
Nicholas almost started to nod, then remembered and instead said, "You do. Danny... why is there a small green monster sitting on my head?"
"Well he can't ride on my head, he'd get hair gel all over 'is bum."
"I can see how that would be an impediment. Is this head-sitting in some way necessary?"
"Head-top is his preferred mode of travel. That way 'e can eat your sanity while he rides. Mmm, sanities! Om nom nom nom!" He flopped the doll down so its tentacles dangled just above Angel's eyes, the better for it to munch upon his brain, presumably, then stepped out into the living room.
"Om nom nom?" asked Angel, being careful, for reasons he couldn't quite articulate, not to dislodge the beastie from his cranium as he followed.
"It's lollish."
"What?"
"You know, lolcats? Pictures of kitties with funny captions an' shit? 'S brilliant, I'll show you when we get back. Kawaii as fuck, too."
"Kawaii? That's a Japanese word." He looked askance at his partner.
"Is it? Didn't know that." He removed the doll from Angel's head, flapping its wings with his thumbs and making little zooming noises, and landed it on the head of the cuddly monkey sitting on the corner of the couch. "There you go. You keep Monkey company while we're out, eh? Keep an eye on him, Monkey! Don't let him get into trouble. All set to go?"
It took Nicholas a moment to realize that that last question had been addressed to him. "Oh! Yes. Where are we going, again?"
"Chateau Cygne. 'S just outside Bristol."
"That's... quite an exclusive restaurant. Are you sure we'll be able to get in?"
"Oh yeah. I made reservations."
Angel had a feeling of sinking trepidation. The unexpected invitation for this evening had only come at lunchtime. "Danny, people queue up months in advance to get on their reservation list. Not that I doubt your ingenuity, but... how did you get reservations?"
Danny winked and tapped his temple. "Turns out they've got a website, and you can jump on cancellations if you pay attention."
The sinking feeling dropped further. He cast a worried glance at the laptop perched on the only clear corner of the kitchen table. It was battered and bulky, a cast-off he'd rescued on a lark, thinking that maybe Danny would be entertained enough by computer solitaire that he'd start learning how to use the mouse and finally be able to do some of his paperwork in electronic format, at considerable cost savings to the station.
"Danny... your computer doesn't have an internet connection yet. We never set you up with an ISP."
"Yeah, but Mrs. Upholder 'cross the back yard does. Turns out I can pick up her wifi signal pretty strong so long as I'm in the back half of the house."
"You're using Mrs. Upholder's network? That's a bit like stealing, isn't it?"
"Naw. I tried to guess her WEP key, but since she didn't use her cat's name or anythin', I had to do some social engineering to crack it. Which is to say, I went over and asked her for it." He smiled. "Good thing, too. She's got 32-bit encryption on, and a brute-force attack could've taken quite some time."
The sinking feeling transmuted into the floaty sensation of an elevator in free-fall as Nicholas realized that the bottom had just fallen out of his world. It would seem that Constable Butterman had taken to the laptop like a duck to water. No, like a fish to water.
Danny? Internet? What? It just didn't compute.
So to speak.
"Who are you, and what have you done with Danny?" he asked.
Danny just grinned. "You're cute." He leaned in and kissed Nicholas on the cheek. "You can learn all kinds of stuff on th' internet, Nicholas. 'Snot just for porn."
"I told you, it was Doris that went to that website-" began Nicholas, flushing.
"It's an Avenue Q reference," interrupted Danny, rolling his eyes. "Try t' keep up. C'mon!" he grabbed Nicholas's arm and pulled him toward the door. "We're gonna be late if we're not careful. Don't get into trouble, you two!" he called to the cuddly toys. There was the sound of the door slamming, their feet on the front stairs, the car pulling away, and then they were gone. A comfortable silence descended.
Herro! said the Cthulhu to the monkey. Hoo-mons all gone. We can haz fun tiems nao?
Oh, sweet Jesus, said the monkey.