Nicky Angel

[oxfordtweed]

Nicky Angel (13965 words) by OxfordTweed
Chapters: 7/7
Fandom: Hot Fuzz (2007)
Rating: General Audiences
Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Nicholas Angel, Danny Butterman, OC - Character, Deskjob

Summary: Nicholas gets an unexpected lodger.



The new pub owner was a nice old man, but the problem was that he was just that; kind of old, so the pub’s hours had changed, and not for the better. Rather than hire help to take care of the patrons that preferred to stay out late, he would just kick everybody out around midnight, and tell them to go finish getting pissed elsewhere.

So Danny and Nicholas would do just that. They stumbled out to the cobblestone street, taking a few moments to remember which direction Danny’s flat was, and wandered off in that direction. They finished getting pissed, and watched a few DVDs before Nicholas eventually left. He stumbled home on his own, on the argument that if he stayed to watch Payback, he’d just fall asleep halfway through and wind up with a burning pain in his neck the next morning.

Getting home, he’d realized that he’d forgotten to turn the air conditioner off before leaving for the pub, and swore he could see his own breath in the cold air. He locked the door, turned off the air, and very carefully made his way to his bedroom, trying very hard to undress and not knock anything over. He got as far as getting off his shoes and unbuttoning his shirt before falling asleep.


It was Sunday, so whoever it was that was knocking on his front door better have had a damn good reason. Nicholas pulled himself out of bed, realizing that he’d gone and done it again; got too drunk to even undress himself properly. It always amazed him that he managed to find his way home on such occasions.

As he made his way to the front door, he flipped the air back on. Leaning against the wall, for support more than anything, he slowly figured out the locks on his door and pulled it open, not recognizing the woman standing on his step.

“You’ve got the wrong address, ma’am,” he said, shaking his head lightly.

“Hang on,” she said before Nicholas could shut the door and go back to sleep. “Where can I find Nick Angel?”

Nicholas blinked a few times before realizing that she was talking about him. “Nicholas,” he corrected. “And I told the last person that I’m not issuing any more statements. The matter is closed.”

“No, Nick,” she said. “It’s me. Tricia.”

Nicholas looked at her for a few moments before covering his face with his hand. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry,” he said, pushing the door open for her to step inside. “Come in.”

She looked over her shoulder quickly as she followed Nicholas inside, shutting the door behind her.

“Let me go get changed,” Nicholas said as he made his way to the stairs. “Just be a minute.”

He disappeared to the first floor, leaving Tricia alone in his front room. She slowly walked along the shelves with stacked books and little statues, pausing hesitantly at the rack of katanas that was over the mantelpiece. She sighed deeply, turning round in time to see Nicholas emerge from his bedroom in clean clothes.

“Out late?” she asked, bemused.

“Very,” Nicholas responded as he made his way to the kitchen. “I’m sorry; I must have missed your call.”

“I didn’t ring,” Tricia said simply as she followed him.

“Oh.” Nicholas said, fishing out two mugs from the cupboard. “Tea?” he asked.

Tricia made her way to look out the window. “Uhm, sure,” she said distractedly.

Nicholas shrugged it off, and put the water on to boil, getting the cups ready. He tried to think of a reason why she might be there, but without caffeine, his brain simply refused to work, so he settled on asking if she wanted sugar.

“Sure,” she replied, looking out the window again.

As Nicholas located the sugar, he noticed the small car sitting out front that did not belong to the neighbours, so he assumed it was hers. They stood in an awkward silence for several minutes, Nicholas jumping at the opportunity to do something when the water finally started to look like it was getting hot.

“What brings you here?” he asked finally as he poured the water into each of the two cups. “I’m not used to people showing up unannounced. Even the reporters have learned to call before knocking.” He handed her one of the mugs that had migrated to his cupboard from the station, keeping the pink one with Princess written on in sweeping script for himself. He noticed Tricia looking at the mug, but said nothing. He’d grown rather attached to the mug, despite having been someone’s idea of a joke back before the station had been rebuilt. Plus, it was bigger than the one that had been stolen, so he wasn’t going to complain.

“Well,” Tricia said hesitantly. “I suppose I should start by telling you that I’ll be going to Italy with my fiancé tomorrow.”

“Congratulations?” Nicholas ventured.

“It’s for his work,” she clarified.

“Okay,” Nicholas said, still lost. “And you came all the way to Sandford to tell me this?”

“Well, no,” Tricia said. “Not exactly.” She took a drink of her tea. “There’s a slight…complication.”

“Okay.”

“I suppose I should have probably mentioned this sooner,” she continued.

“Mentioned what?” Nicholas asked, still completely lost, and not exactly convinced that it could be totally attributed to his hangover.

“Well,” she said. She looked back out the window, and this time, Nicholas had to look with her. “You know all that you said about being too young to start a family?”

Nicholas very nearly dropped his mug. “What?”

“His name is Nicky,” she continued.

“What?” Nicholas repeated.

“Brandon’s job’s going to have him travelling all across the world, and we really don’t want to keep uprooting him every two months.”

“What?” Nicholas repeated again, putting his mug down on the counter and really looking at the car parked outside. “You’re sure he’s mine?” he asked. “Why not just put him in a boarding school, or something, like a normal parent?”

Tricia shifted awkwardly, putting her own tea down on the kitchen table. “Well,” she said. “I figured with you retiring out here and all—”

“What?” Nicholas was beginning to feel a bit like a broken record. “Retired? Who…never mind. You told me –”

“He’s yours, Nick,” Tricia insisted. “Please. I know this is sudden, but it would be better for him. We can’t just drag him from place to place. It’s not good for a child. It’s time you took some responsibility for your actions, anyway.”

Nicholas shifted his jaw. “It would have been nice to know,” he reasoned.

Tricia shrugged. “Yeah, well,” she started. “You didn’t want a family, and it was all about your career, then. But you’re settled out here, now—”

“Who told you that?” Nicholas all but demanded. When Tricia didn’t answer, he turned round and made his way to the front room. She followed him out, looking round at all the trinkets and potentially expensive items stacked on shelves. Nicholas paced the room, sat down on the sofa, decided he was too anxious to sit still, and eventually started pacing again. “Don’t you have other family?” he asked. “Someone that’s not me?”

“Nick, please,” Tricia pleaded.

Nicholas stared at her, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Look at me and tell me there’s no other alternative,” he said flatly.

“I wish it were that simple,” she said.

Nicholas sighed, his arms dropping to his side. “Fine,” he said, defeated. “Whatever. Fine.”

Without another word Tricia turned and walked out the front door, leaving Nicholas alone in the sitting room. Several minutes after she left, Tricia pushed the front door open, practically dragging a reluctant little boy into the cottage.

“Nicky, come on,” she tried to reason. “Come meet your dad.”

“I hate him!” the child screamed, throwing a stuffed dog at the floor. “I don’t want to stay here! I hate it!”

“You’ve only just got here,” Tricia said, pulling the boy into the room so she could shut the door.

“This is certainly encouraging,” Nicholas muttered, determined to do the right thing.

“I want to go back home!” The boy kicked at his mother and tried to open the door, but she had thought ahead enough to lock it behind her. When the door refused to open, he ran into the kitchen. “Take me home!”

Nicholas buried his face in his hands. He had apparently fathered the anti-christ.

“Nick, I really have to go,” Tricia said softly, already unlocking the door.

“Fine,” Nicholas said, still rubbing his face. He didn’t look up to watch her leave; just listened to the front door open and then shut again, followed immediately by the shatter of glass in the kitchen.


***


Nicholas sat on the sofa with the television off and the shades all still drawn as Nicky made occasional noises from under the kitchen table. It was made fairly clear that Nicholas was not, unfortunately, dreaming, and that there really was a six year old boy making noises in the kitchen. He did have to admit that the timeline fit, but Nicholas still tried to convince himself that someone had a very sick sense of humour, and that the boy would be gone by nightfall. He’d been so ensconced in convincing himself of this knowledge that he did not hear the knock on the door, and had nearly jumped clear off the sofa as Danny let himself into the cottage with his spare key.

“Nick?” he asked cautiously, seeing his friend looking startled up at him. “You all right?”

Nicholas only blinked. “What?”

Danny sighed. “Jesus Christ, Nick,” he said as he pocketed his keys, looking round the dark cottage. “How much did you have to drink last night? You’re such a fucking lightweight.”

He made his way into the kitchen to fetch Nicholas something to drink, only to run right back out again, driven by a wooden spoon hurling through the air, and a high pitched scream.

“What the hell was that?” he demanded.

Nicholas only shrugged. “Apparently he’s called Nicky,” he said simply.


It was Danny’s turn to blink. “You babysitting or something?” he asked.

Nicholas shook his head slightly. “I suppose you could call it that.”

Danny frowned as he sat down on the opposite end of the sofa from Nicholas. “Funny,” he said. “Haven’t seen him round here. Whose is he?”

Nicholas snorted. “Mine, apparently.”

Danny thought about that, taking a few moments to realize the weight of Nicholas’ words. “Oh. I didn’t realize you had a kid,” he said quickly. “Why didn’t you say nothing?”

Nicholas shrugged again. “Well, it’s not like I’ve been keeping him locked up, back in the garden shed,” he pointed out. “I’m not that good at keeping secrets. You know that.”

Danny shook his head. “No. You’re dreadful at it,” he admitted. “When’d you find out?”

“That I can’t keep secrets?”

“About the blond thing in your kitchen, you stupid git,” Danny said, trying not to laugh.

“Oh.” Nicholas frowned and looked at his watch. “About two hours ago.”

Danny nodded. “Right,” he said, lapsing into a comfortable silence. “Congratulations,” he added finally.

Nicholas nodded in return. “Thanks.”

They fell back into a comfortable silence, Nicholas simply enjoying Danny’s presence, and Danny not knowing what else to say in the present situation. He tried several times to come up with something, but his mind failed to come up with any words, so he aborted at the very last second. The silence was finally interrupted by an angry, devil screeching coming from the kitchen.

“Hey, come on,” Nicholas said as he started to get up, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort when he noticed his cat quickly retreating back to the safety of the bedroom. “Please don’t harass the cat.”

“I hate him!” Nicky shouted from the entry way to the kitchen.

Nicholas sighed as he covered his face with his hands. “Well, I’m sure the feeling’s mutual,” he said without thinking.

“You’re stupid!” Nicky shouted as he ran back to the kitchen. “I hate you, too!”

Nicholas groaned loudly as he leaned back into the sofa.

“What you gonna do with him?” Danny asked cautiously after a few moments.

Nicholas took a few moments to respond. “I don’t suppose I could lock him up in the garden shed?”

Danny lost out to the urge to laugh. “No, I don’t think so,” he said easily.

“Damn.”

They lapsed back into silence as Nicky began stalking around the cottage. “You’re stupid,” he muttered as he slunk behind the sofa.

“That very well may be,” Nicholas agreed.

Danny watched as the kid made his way after the cat. “Hey, come on,” he said to Nicholas. “You was young. S’not your fault.”

“He’s only six,” Nicholas pointed out. “I wasn’t that young.”

Danny chuckled to himself. “Well, hey. Girls like a guy with a kid,” he reasoned. “Makes you look all responserable, and whatnot.” Nicholas gave him a withering look. “Not that...you’d need it, or anything,” Danny added quickly.

“I’ve already told you I’m not dating anyone from Sandford,” Nicholas said. “I don’t want to be related to you.”

“Christ, Nick, I’m not related to everyone!” Danny insisted.

“No, just everybody else,” Nicholas reasoned.

Danny started to respond, but was interrupted by Nicky shouting, “Bang! Bang!” from the upstairs hall. Both Danny and Nicholas looked at one another, perplexed, before suddenly jumping up, bounding over the sofa and to the bedrooms. Nicholas was horrified, yet not at all surprised, to find Nicky brandishing Nicholas’ Beretta at the cat. How he’d managed to find the sidearm, buried in the drawer of the nightstand, in such little time, was downright frightening. Nicholas snatched it away from the child, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw that the safety had still been engaged.

“You do not touch this!” he said, taking all his restraint not to yell as he held the pistol up for Nicky to see. “This is not a toy! This can kill people!”

“Go away!” Nicky screamed as he delivered a swift kick to Nicholas’ knee before quickly running out of the room.

“Fuck!” Nicholas bent to rub the spot where Nicky had kicked him for a few moments before digging through the nightstand drawer for the trigger lock for his Beretta, reasoning that he lived in Sandford, and no one in the entire county would even think about breaking into his cottage. He’d have to start leaving it behind at the station, no longer feeling comfortable with it in the house.

Danny bent down to pick up the frightened cat, rubbing it gently behind its ears as he watched Nicholas lock up his sidearm and move it to the top drawer of his wardrobe, well out of Nicky’s reach. “Hey, he’s all right,” Danny said softly. “No one got hurt.”

“He could have,” Nicholas said angrily. “I’d completely forgotten it was in there. How am I supposed to raise a child if I can’t even keep my own house safe?”

Danny inhaled deeply as he shut the bedroom door. He knew it was probably a stupid idea, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted Nicky to overhear them talking. “I didn’t ask,” he said gently as possible. “Why’s he even here?”

Nicholas shrugged and sat down on the floor. “I don’t know,” he said. “My ex just dropped him off this morning, and said she had to go to Italy.”

Danny finally put the cat back down and sat next to Nicholas on the floor. “And you’re just going along with it?”

Nicholas shook his head. “What am I supposed to do?” he asked. “If he’s mine, then I’m going to take responsibility.”

Danny nodded. “Right,” he said. “That’s probably best.”

Nicholas cringed as a glass something shattered in the kitchen. “Can you take care of that?” he asked. “I think I need a few minutes.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah,” he said as he slowly climbed to his feet, trying not to let Nicholas notice that he was still in quite a lot of pain from time to time. “You had lunch yet?”

Nicholas shook his head.

“All right,” Danny said as he left the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.


Danny rang the pizza parlour, convincing the delivery boy – his cousin’s sisters, aunt’s youngest boy – to stop off on his way to Nicholas’ cottage and fetch some ice cream as well. It hadn’t been a particularly difficult task to convince him to do this, since he requested ice cream about two or three times a month, anyway. When it all arrived, Danny got up to fetch it, letting Nicholas stay in his barely aware state on the sofa.

“That’s fifteen for the pie, and two pounds fifty for the ice cream,” Kevin said as he looked down at a little note pad.

Danny frowned lightly as he fished a twenty from his jeans. “Price went up,” he mused.

“Yep.” Kevin took the twenty and passed the pizza and ice cream over to Danny, in a rush to make his next delivery. “Have a good evening.”

“Yep,” Danny said as he shut the door. He took everything to the kitchen, avoiding going near the table for fear that Nicky might have a large iron skillet in his possession. Bringing everything out, Danny reached into the cupboard for plates and bowls, fetching two of each out of habit, and having to stop and grab a third for Nicky. As he dished himself up, Nicholas made his way to the kitchen, bending to look under the table.

“Nicky, come on,” he said tiredly. “It’s time to eat.”

“No.”

“You have to eat something,” Nicholas tried to reason.

“No!”

Nicholas sighed and put two slices on the plate and set it on the table before getting his own and returning to the sofa. Against his better judgement, Danny served up some ice cream and put it next to the pizza on the table. Confident Nicky would eventually break, he followed Nicholas back out to the front room. Nicholas had the television muted and tuned to some low-budget sci-fi flick about evil mutant snakes. Nicholas was content to enjoy the silence, and Danny was happy to let him, trying to figure out what was going on on the television through the captioning. Just about the point where it got to the bit where something amazing was surely going to happen in the film, Nicholas’ cat yowled loudly from the kitchen and made a mad break for the safety of the bedroom.

“Spot!” Nicholas complained as he forced himself to his feet in order to hunt down the terrified creature. He was horrified to find the usually well-groomed Siamese was not only covered in ice cream, but that it had also gotten the mess all over the bed. Nicholas picked the animal up by the scruff of its neck, and holding it at arm’s length made his way down to the kitchen.

“I am not going to tell you to leave my cat alone again,” Nicholas said as he put the cat in the sink.

“It could be dangerous. He’s just like his owner,” Danny reasoned from the entry way, not even bothering with a plate for his pizza. “Old and grouchy.”

“Danny,” Nicholas pleaded as he ran a gentle stream of water from the tap, wetting a small kitchen towel. “He is not old. I haven’t even had him six months.” Holding the cat still, he did a quick job of getting its fur mostly clean before it started to put up too much of a fuss and escaped. “Great. Now they both hate me,” Nicholas muttered as he turned off the water and made his way back to fetch the covers from the bed and took them to the bathroom, starting the tap in the tub.

“Spot’s a dog’s name!” Nicky shouted, still underneath the kitchen table.

“It is not!” Nicholas insisted, trying to get the mess out of his duvet before it set.

“It is so!”

Before Nicholas could respond, Danny cupped his hand over the inspector’s mouth, silencing him. “Nick, just let it go,” he said. “If you ignore him, he’ll stop.”

“How do you know?” Nicholas asked as he turned off the tap. He wrung as much water out of the duvet as possible before hanging it over the shower curtain rod.

“He will,” Danny assured. “Trust me.”

Remembering that Danny was related to most of Sandford, and therefore had years of experience with children, Nicholas decided it would probably be easiest if he took Danny’s word for it, and returned to the front room without argument. He collapsed on the sofa, not even wanting to deal with the mess in the kitchen until he was certain that the main culprit wouldn’t just turn around and make another one.

Nicky continued to occasionally make angry-sounding noises and protests from the kitchen, but just as Danny had predicted, he did eventually stop. Feeling more at ease, now that the house was silent again, Nicholas managed to fall into a light sleep, having still never quite gotten over his hangover from earlier that morning. Danny, taking advantage of the situation, turned the volume up on the television slightly and began flipping channels, settling on a repeat of Jackie Brown on what seemed to be the only non-BBC channel Nicholas had subscribed to. That was going to have to change, if he intended on keeping a six-year-old quiet for any length of time. Danny waited for Samuel L Jackson to say his line about the AK-47 before deciding to start cleaning up from their meal. He gathered up plates and put pizza boxes in the fridge and half-melted ice cream in the freezer, and began cleaning up the mess from the cat when he realized that nothing was being thrown at him. Cautiously peering under the table, Danny realized that Nicky had fallen asleep on the floor. Struggling to get down low enough, Danny shook his head as he gently gathered up the sleeping boy in his arms and took him up to Nicholas’ room. Nicky only stirred slightly as Danny situated him on the bed, covering him up with the quilt that had been folded on top of the wardrobe.

Satisfied, Danny made his way out to the front room and gently prodded Nicholas awake. “Hey,” he said softly. “I might as well take off for the night. You gonna be all right by yourself?”

Nicholas nodded tiredly. “Yeah,” he said. Looking around, he realized that Danny must have logically put Nicky to bed in the bedroom, which caused him to realize that he’d be sleeping on the sofa. “Hey, can I borrow your car tomorrow?” he asked. “I’m gonna need to get him some stuff if he’s gonna be staying here.”

Danny smiled lightly. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll bring it round in the morning.”

“Thanks.”

Nicholas watched as Danny left, locking up behind himself. After a few moments, Nicholas turned off the television and got up, making his way to his home office upstairs. Sighing to himself, he began moving everything down stairs as quietly as he could, having no idea where he was going to put any of it.


***


Somehow, sleeping on the sofa was less comfortable sober than it was when he was drunk and hung over. At least being drunk and hung over, he was that much more limber, so his muscles didn’t realise the abuse they were taking.

Nicholas slowly came to register someone else in the room with him, and sprang up violently, tripping over the tangle of sheets and sofa. He very nearly fell onto the coffee table, sure to be met by plenty of pain and bruising, but a large hand shot out and grabbed the back of his shirt collar.

“Oh! Watch it, Nick,” Danny said, pulling Nicholas back to his feet. “Thought you was awake. Sorry.”

Nicholas looked around the cottage, finding it very much in the state he had left it when he finally passed out the night before. Quiet and peaceful, in an organised disaster sort of way.

“What time is it?” he asked, reaching into his mouth and pulling out a small, horseshoe-shaped piece of rubber. He frowned at it, before dropping his arm to his side.

“Just about ten,” Danny answered. He looked cautiously around the room. “The uh... little one still in bed, then?”

Nicholas nodded. “I hope so,” he said. “Don’t know if he’s been able to figure out the locks, yet.” They made their way into the kitchen, Nicholas running the tap over his mouth piece and putting the kettle on. “Breakfast?” he asked.

Danny shook his head, sitting at the table. “M’fine,” he said. “Figure you might want to get an early start with, er...”

“Nicky,” Nicholas filled in.

“Yeah,” Danny looked away. “Taking him to Buford Abbey, then?”

Nicholas nodded. “I can’t expect him to just live off of what his mother dropped him off with, can I?” he rationalised.

Danny shook his head. “Guess not, no.” He put his keys down on the table as he got back to his feet. “I won’t stay in your way, then.”

For a few moments, Nicholas considered asking Danny if he wanted to tag along, and then realised that if the same had been asked of him, he’d do it only out of not wanting to hurt Danny’s feelings, and really would not have wanted anything to do with a kid that was not his. Hell, he barely wanted anything to do with a kid that might have been his.

“Thanks,” he said weakly. “I’ll bring the car back round when we get back.”

Danny smiled. “Don’t fuck with my radio channels.” He rounded the corner to the front door and let himself out, leaving Nicholas alone with the kettle. He leaned against the counter, wondering what he ought to do. Far as he could tell, there was no way to get a hold of Darla; she’d disappeared just as quickly as she re-entered into his life. He could only assume that Nicky was born in London, since that’s when he and Darla were together, but there was no knowing that fur sure.

What would he do? Just call up London social services, and report an abandoned child? Far as he could remember, Nicky would just be shunted off to a foster family until one of the parents could be located. If no one could be located – or if that someone really was Nicholas, and he’d already waived residence rights – he’d stay in foster care until he was 18, and then what? Did the boy even have any other family? Nicholas began to wonder if he was keeping someone else from the boy.

But if there was someone closer than he, why didn’t Darla just take Nicky there? Why drive half way across the country to drop him off in Sandford with a bitter, aging police officer that might not even be his real father?

Nicholas jumped, startled at the sound of something falling in the front room. He stepped out to see what had happened, finding Nicky ready to start knocking everything over, clutching tightly to his stuffed dog.

“Morning,” Nicholas said simply.

Nicky frowned up at him.

“Do you drink tea?” Nicholas tried.

“No!” Nicky spat.

Nicholas sighed. “How about toast?” he tried. “Do you like toast?”

“No,” Nicky said, a bit less insistent.

Nicholas tried his best to remain patient with the boy. “All right,” he said. “Do you want anything for breakfast, then?”

“No.”

Sighing, Nicholas retreated back to the kitchen and took the kettle off. “Fine,” he said. “Go fetch your shoes so we can go.”

“Don’t wanna go!” Nicky insisted.

Nicholas thought back to what Danny had said, trying to make a point to not argue with the child. “Well, we’re going,” he said, instead. “Go get your shoes or I’ll get them for you.”

Nicky growled at him and threw his dog before running back to the front room, knocking over a stack of books as he passed. Nicholas concentrated on breathing easily, and reminding himself that the boy was just scared, and confused, and whatever else it was that a boy would be, and made his way upstairs to quickly change before heading out to fetch the shoes from by the front door. “Nicky,” he called. “Let’s go!”

“No!”

Nicholas couldn’t tell where the answer had come from, and wasn’t looking forward to the hide and seek game that was sure to follow, but resigned himself to finding the boy. Shoes in tow, he searched the cottage, checking every nook and cranny he knew to exist, and a few that he found along the way. Eventually, he found Nicky hiding in the tumble dryer, having somehow managed to close the door up on himself.

“What are you doing in there?” Nicholas asked flatly.

“Go away!” Nicky screamed.

Nicholas sighed and bent down, trying his best to dislodge the boy without hurting him, eventually realising that he had no immediate plan for once the dryer was cleared. He suddenly found himself with a flailing child, trying to free himself from Nicholas’ grip.

“Hey,” Nicholas cautioned. “Hey! Stop it!” He tightened his grip as he got down to the floor, wrestling the shoes onto Nicky’s feet. “Come on, now. This is stupid!”

“You’re stupid!”

“Stop it!” Nicholas cautioned.

“You stop it!”

Shoes finally on, Nicholas picked him back up in both arms, stopping to fetch the stuffed dog from the floor and Danny’s keys on his way out. Locking up the house was a game of trial and error, but he eventually figured it out without having to put Nicky down, and hefted him to the car, thanking a god he wasn’t even sure existed for the Mini Cooper’s two-door design, making it nearly impossible for Nicky to manage to get out on his own. He settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine, adjusting the rear view mirror so he could see into the back. Nicky was quietly sulking, still fastened securely in the safety belt. Confident that he would stay that way, Nicholas dropped the Mini into gear and pulled out to the street, a stuff dog suddenly colliding with the back of his head.


It hadn’t taken long at all to figure out that the easiest way to keep the boy in check was not to try keeping him by his side, but instead just dropping him directly into the trolley basket. He wasn’t completely sure what size clothing Nicky took and he couldn’t get him to sit still long enough to check, so it was all guess work, and he made a mental note to be sure to keep the receipt.

“We’ll get you some bedroom stuff next week, okay?” he said as they made their way to checkout, his wallet already crying in agony at the impending spending.

“No!” Nicky insisted. “You room’s stupid!”

Nicholas shrugged. “Well, I like it,” he said. “You can sleep on the sofa if you want, then.”

“No!”

Several shoppers started turning heads, prompting Nicholas to end the conversation right then and there. He pushed the trolley up to checkout, wrestling items out of Nicky’s hands as he put them up on the counter.

“School shopping?” the clerk asked with a light smile.

Nicholas made a conscious effort to not cringe at the thought. It had not occurred to him that the school season was starting up again, as he’d always made a habit of enforcing curfew laws regardless of time of year.

“Something like that,” he answered instead. He pulled a pair of trousers from the boy’s hands and handed them up to the clerk. “Nicky, come on,” he scolded.

The clerk laughed lightly. “Can’t take them anywhere at that age,” she agreed. “My youngest is still like that.”

Nicholas smiled bitterly, at least taking some solace in the fact that his wasn’t the only demon child out there. He quickly paid and put the bags back into the trolley, pushing everything back out to the borrowed Mini. He loaded everything into the boot, and turned round in time to see Nicky climbing down onto the pavement.

“Come on,” he said. “In.”

“No!” Nicky kicked at his knee, connecting firmly with the bruise he’d left the night before.

“Fuck!” Nicholas hissed, reaching down to rub the abused spot on his knee. He looked up to find Nicky running off toward a hedgerow, and climbing inside. Making sure the Mini was locked up, Nicholas gave chase. He got down to his stomach, crawling best he could into the shrubbery after the boy.

“Nicky, come on,” he said flatly. “Stop this.”

“No!”

Nicholas sighed, dropping his head onto his hands. “This is stupid,” he said. “People are going to start talking.”

“So?”

Nicholas lie silent in the sticks and dirt for a few moments, wondering what might happen if he just left the boy in the shrubs.

“I’m going home,” he said decidedly. “You can come with me, or you can stay here and let a badger eat you.”

“No!” Nicky shrieked, but he didn’t move.

“Well, those are your choices,” Nicholas said tiredly. “I’m not arguing with you.” He and Nicky looked at each other for a few minutes, silently gauging the other. “Listen,” Nicholas said, sighing. “Let’s make a deal, okay?”

“What?” Nicky asked timidly.

Nicholas was startled to feel someone kick at his leg. “What?” he barked.

“Everything all right, sir?”

Nicholas recognised the tone. Police officer. No two ways about it.

“Everything’s just fine, Constable,” Nicholas said heavily. “Just...trying to get my son out of the damn bushes.”

He could hear the officer laughing above him. “Good luck with that,” he said, before apparently walking away. Nicholas wasn’t sure what upset him more; that the officer didn’t care to check the story out, or that he didn’t care to stick around and help. He sighed, pushing the whole mess from his mind.

“Do you see that?” Nicholas said to Nicky. “What if he didn’t believe me? He’d have taken you away, and then where would you be?”

Nicky said nothing, and Nicholas could have sworn that the boy moved ever so slightly closer to him.

“What is it?” Nicholas asked. “You don’t like that I tell you what to do? Is that it?”

Nicky frowned, but said nothing.

“If I promise that I won’t tell you to do anything, any more, will you get in the damn car so we can go home?”

“Why?” Nicky asked. Definitely an improvement of sorts.

Nicholas shrugged. “Because I really like this shirt, and you’ve made me get down in the mud with it on, and it’s probably ruined now, and I would like just one thing about today to go right.” He stared at Nicky, hoping to make his point. After a few moments, he held out his hand, surprised when Nicky reluctantly took it. He helped the boy out of the hedgerow, and got to his feet. The shirt was completely and totally stained beyond repair, looking much like the one it had replaced from the time he made the mistake of playing rugby with Danny’s family.

“Let’s go,” he said flatly. He began walking to the car, Nicky following closely. He managed to get the boy into the back seat before getting settled, himself, finding the stuffed dog on the floor by his feet. He picked it up, and held it for Nicky to see. “If I give this back, can you promise it won’t leave your hands?”

Nicky nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said timidly.

Nicholas passed it back before starting the ignition.


***


They sat in silence at the breakfast table, Nicholas with his pink mug, and Nicky with his stuffed dog. Nicholas watched Nicky for a few minutes, deciding that he should probably say something.

“Do you drink tea?” he asked.

Nicky shook his head. “No,” he muttered.

“What about toast?” Nicholas asked. “Do you like toast?”

Nicky only shrugged.

Sighing, Nicholas got up from his seat, making his way to the refrigerator. “It’s toast or tea for breakfast,” he said simply. “Which one?”

“Toast,” Nicky said quietly. He tugged at the ears of his stuffed dog, pulling them in every possible direction. “Do you have grape?”

Nicholas looked at the boy, surprised, before inspecting the contents of the refrigerator. Finally, he found a jar of grape jam, crammed in the back of the shelf. He quickly checked the date on the label before setting it on the counter. “I do,” he said. “Do you want that?”

Nicky nodded.

“Okay,” Nicholas said. He set out making the toast, getting out a knife and a small plate. “Do you like it cut down the middle, or across the corners?”

Nicky shrugged again. “Don’t care,” he said.

“Well, I like it across the corners,” Nicholas said simply. “Think I’ll have some, too.” He put two more slices of bread into the toaster, and pulled out a second plate.

“Okay,” Nicky said. He continued to tug at his stuffed toy as Nicholas readied their meagre breakfast, setting one of the plates before the boy.

“I have to go to work today,” Nicholas said cautiously. “You’re going to go stay with Danny today, okay? You remember him?”

Nicky shrugged.

“He was the man that was here when we had pizza and ice cream,” Nicholas reminded him.

Nicky shrugged again as he bit timidly from his toast. Nicholas sighed deeply, getting the very real impression that he would never figure out what it was that he was meant to be doing. They slowly ate the rest of their breakfast in silence before Nicholas sent the boy upstairs to change his clothes, which took him slightly longer than it took for Nicholas to shower. The new shoes Nicholas had bought him to replace the ones he’d shown up with had tie laces, rather than Velcro, which Nicholas was surprised to find had completely baffled the boy. He quickly fastened his belt before getting down to the floor to see what was going on.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you to tie your shoes?” Nicholas asked lightly.

Nicky shook his head.

“It’s easy,” Nicholas assured. “I can show you.”

Nicky shook his head again, picking up his stuffed dog from the floor.

“Maybe some other time.” Nicholas quickly tied Nicky’s shoes for him and then helped him to his feet before gathering up a book bag with things he thought might come in helpful for Danny. Figuring he could change into his uniform at the station, he gathered his keys and led Nicky outside, walking him the small distance to Danny’s flat. Nicholas let them in with his copy of Danny’s key, leading Nicky to the front room. He put the book bag down by the sofa before lowering himself to get eye level with the boy.

“Do you think you can try to be good today?” he asked, putting his hand lightly on Nicky’s shoulder. “Don’t go kicking him or breaking his things?”

Nicky shrugged.

“Well, if not for me, then for some ice cream on our way home tonight?”

Nicky shrugged again. Deciding the effort fruitless, Nicholas got back to his feet in time to see Danny stumbling into the front room. He smiled down at Nicky, mussing his hair with his fingers.

“How ya doin’, Sport?” he said lightly. Nicky pulled away and sat down on the sofa as Danny turned his attention to Nicholas. “What about you?” he asked. “How you holdin’ up?”

“I’m doing this all wrong,” Nicholas said desperately. “I know I am.”

Danny sighed. “Gotta just give him time, yeah,” he said. “Think about what he’s goin’ through right now. He’s just as scared and confused as you are.”

Nicholas sighed. “I suppose,” he said. “I gotta get going. Give me a ring if he starts... acting up, or whatever.”

Danny nodded, smiling lightly despite everything. “Course,” he said. “But I think we’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” Nicholas said. “Thanks.” He let himself out, dreading to think of the endless possibilities of what might happen in his absence. He walked slowly across the village to the station, putting on the spare shirt and jumper he kept in his locker. He’d left the belt at home, electing instead to keep himself locked in his office, performing proper inspectoring duties, and letting the on-shift officers take care of the officer duties. On the rare occasion when he did leave the office, the station fell under a heavy hush, the crew watching him nervously has he moved through the building, fetching various forms or another cup of coffee. He knew that by know news of his private home life had been made a public matter, but as long as nobody pointed this much out to him, he was happy to ignore them staring at him.

Six o’clock seemed to take years to arrive, and Nicholas had never felt as tired at the end of his shift as he did today. The fact that Danny had not called him once only seemed to make him more nervous, as he wondered what might have possibly happened that would have gone straight over his head. He made quick tracks back to Danny’s flat, finding himself oddly relieved to find that the building was still standing. He let himself in the main door, and made a conscious effort not to run up the steps to Danny’s door, finding complete and total silence from the other side. He knocked lightly on the door before cautiously pushing it open. He was surprised to find Nicky asleep on the sofa, clutching his stuffed toy, while Danny quietly watched the Doctor, battling whatever this week’s baddie was.

“How was he?” Nicholas asked quietly, shutting the door behind him.

Danny shrugged. “Bit rough at first, but I think he’s comin’ round.” He shifted slightly and gently nudged the boy on the shoulder. “Come on, Sport. Dad’s here. Time to go.”

Nicky grumbled slightly as he sat up.

“How long was he out?” Nicholas asked, looking round the flat for the book bag he’d brought in.

Danny shrugged again. “’Bout twenty minutes?” he guessed. “Figured you’d be here soon, so a little nap wouldn’t hurt.”

Nicholas shook his head. “Suppose not.” He found the bag and picked it up, swearing it was heavier than he’d left it. “Nicky, come on,” he said lightly. “Let’s go home.”

“Do we have to?” Nicky asked.

“Yeah,” Nicholas answered, holding out his hand. “Let’s go.”

“Can I come back tomorrow?”

Nicholas shot Danny a surprised look, but Danny seemed to not notice. “No,” Nicholas said after a few moments. “Danny has to work tomorrow. I still have to figure out where you’re going tomorrow.”

“Auntie Jackie,” Danny suggested easily.

“I... don’t know who that is,” Nicholas pointed out.

“Sure you do,” Danny corrected. “She’s Doris’ mum. She loves watchin’ over the little ones. She does it for Andy and Tony all the time. I’ll give her a ring for you, if you want.”

Nicholas nodded dumbly. “Sure,” he said. “Thanks.”

Danny smiled up at him. “I’ll call you later tonight,” he offered. “We haven’t had dinner yet, so you might wanna get him home.”

Nicholas nodded again. “Right. Thanks.” He held out his hand for Nicky again, waiting for the boy to gather whatever it was he was looking for. He watched as he plucked up one of Danny’s hand-held games before reluctantly taking Nicholas by the hand. “Hang on,” Nicholas said. “What’s that?”

“My old PSP,” Danny answered. “I got the white one not too long ago. Figured he could have that one if he wants. Gave him a few games.”

Nicholas smiled at Danny. “Thanks,” he repeated. “He could use something to do.” He gently took the game from Nicky and slid it into the book bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said to Danny before leading Nicky back outside. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked as they made their way down the sidewalk.

Nicky shrugged. Nicholas quickly looked over his shoulder before leading Nicky across the street. Nicky began to look around frantically, trying to stop as Nicholas led him down the sidewalk.

“This ain’t where you live,” he said loudly.

“No,” Nicholas agreed, letting the boy stop. “But I seem to remember promising a certain young man ice cream if he was nice to my friend. Come on.”

Nicky followed after him once more, his step quickened by the promise of ice cream. They ducked into the corner shop, Nicholas leading the way to the freezer, lifting Nicky up so he could see into the large chest.

“We’ve got... vanilla, strawberry, or... mint, it looks like,” he said.

“That one,” Nicky said.

“Mint?”

Nicky nodded as Nicholas returned him to his feet, sliding the large freezer door open. He reached in, grabbing two mint Cornettos before leading Nicky up to the counter.

“Oh, is this the boy?” Ms. Roper asked excitedly from behind the counter.

Nicholas smiled unevenly and nodded. “Yeah,” he said.

“He looks just like you, Inspector,” she said as she scanned the Cornettos. “Two pounds, fifty.”

Nicholas set several coins on the counter before unwrapping one of the Cornettos and handing it down to Nicky. “Thank you,” he called as and Nicky went back outside. He quickly ran with Nicky across the street, “Do you want to come see where I work tomorrow?” he asked, tearing into his own ice cream.

Nicky shrugged, more interested with making a mess of his face than anything Nicholas had to say. Considering the silence better than the alternative, Nicholas contemplated bribing the child with sweets more often as the two of them walked home.


***


“Yes, I realise this is short notice,” Nicholas said tiredly, his mobile pressed up against his ear. “But I only just got him from his mother this week.”

He sat in his office, watching through the Venetian blinds as Nicky grew bored with the video game given to him by Danny, and instead began digging through Tony’s desk drawer. He listened as the stupid girl on the other end rattled on about how he should have started this process months earlier, and not eight days before the fact.

“Well, I didn’t know four months ago that he’d be staying with me, did I?” Nicholas reasoned.

He watched as Nicky discovered the tin Spider-man lunchbox from Tony’s desk, prying the clasps open. Before Nicholas realised what was happening, Nicky unwrapped the usual sandwich provided by Anne and walked it over to Saxon, offering it to the slobbering animal.

“Oh, bollocks!” Nicholas shouted as he scrambled up from his desk.

“Well, if you’re going to be like that—” the girl on the other end said bitterly.

“Hang on,” Nicholas shot as he rushed out of his office, grabbing Nicky by his arm. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m trying to explain, sir,” the girl on the phone started.

“Not you!” Nicholas barked. He put his mobile down on the nearest desk, his attention turned back to Nicky. “Why did you just do that?” he asked, not letting go of the boy.

Nicky shrugged. “I’unno,” he mumbled, looking down at the floor.

“We don’t go digging through other people’s things, and we definitely do not feed other people’s lunch to the dog!”

Nicky squirmed away, rubbing the spot on his arm where Nicholas had grabbed him. “Okay,” he said, sounding suspiciously like he was about to cry.

Nicholas gathered what was left of Tony’s lunch and put it back in his desk. “When Tony gets back, you’d better apologise,” he said, plucking his mobile back up. He put it back to his ear, realising the line had gone dead. Sighing, he shoved it back into his pocket and turned back to Nicky. “Why don’t you come wait for Doris with me,” he said, leading the boy into his office.

As he watched the boy continuously rub the spot on his arm where Nicholas had grabbed hold of him, he began to worry that maybe he’d gone too far, and possibly injured him.

“You all right?” Nicholas asked softly as he got Nicky settled in one of the chairs. Nicky only shrugged. “Did I hurt you? Mind if I take a look?”

Nicky shrugged again, but took his hand away, allowing Nicholas to push his shirt sleeve out of the way. There didn’t even seem to be any redness around the area; he’d likely just scared the child more than anything.

“Doris will be back soon, and then she’s gonna take you to her mum’s for the rest of the day, okay?”

Nicky shrugged. “Why?” he asked.

“Well, there’s not much for you to do round here, is there?” Nicholas asked.

“Why can’t I go with Danny?” Nicky asked heavily.

“Because Danny’s working,” Nicholas tried to reason. “Mrs. Thatcher’s nice, and it will only be a few hours.”

“I don’t want to,” Nicky said stubbornly. “I’m always going off someplace new. I hate it. This place is stupid.”

Nicholas sighed, realising that the boy was right. It was bad enough that his mum had carted him off to stay with some cranky old goat that she claimed was his father, but now Nicholas himself had been sending him off to a different place every day. He checked his watch before casting a quick glance to the pathetic stack of paperwork in his inbox. “Why don’t you go fetch your jumper,” he offered. “We’ll go find something for lunch.”

Nicky looked nervously up at the inspector before getting back to his feet and wandered back out to hunt down his jumper from whichever desk he’d tossed it under. Nicholas gave him a few minutes before locking his computer and following him out, gently leading him out front. He stopped briefly at the inquires desk, leaning in slightly to the lexan shield.

“When Doris gets back, could you let her know there’s been a change of plans today?” he asked, ignoring the sour look Sergeant Turner shot him from over the pages of his book.

“Change of what plans?” he demanded.

“She’ll know what you’re talking about,” Nicholas assured, not quite able to ignore the usual moaning from the sergeant.

They walked slowly down the street to the pub in silence, Nicholas not quite certain how to handle the boy’s wavering comfort level around him. He supposed it was probably normal, given the unusual circumstances governing their current situation, and decided that just letting the boy be would probably be easiest. They walked into the pub, Nicholas fetching up two photocopied menus from a basket near the door, before pausing, looking down at Nicky.

“Do you read?” he asked dumbly.

Nicky shrugged. “Some,” he answered.

Deciding to stick to the path of least resistance, Nicholas dropped one of the menus back in the basket before leading Nicky to a table in the corner. He put the menu down on the table, reading over it quickly. “What do you want for lunch?” he asked.

“Ice cream,” Nicky answered simply.

Nicholas tried not to laugh, which he found to be no small task. “You can’t have ice cream for lunch,” he said simply.

“Why not?”

“Because,” Nicholas said, forgoing any real reasoning. “Dinner, maybe. If you’re good, but not lunch.”

Nicky frowned across the table at Nicholas before getting to his knees. He leaned across the table to look at the menu, Nicholas rotating it so he could see it more easily.

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing to an item near the bottom.

Nicholas looked at it quickly. “That’s the wine menu,” he said. “Absolutely not.”

Nicky frowned, pointing at the menu again. “This?” he asked.

Nicholas looked to see where he was pointing. “The fish?” he asked. “You like fish?”

The boy nodded, sitting back in his seat as a young waitress stepped up beside them. “Afternoon, Inspector,” she said happily. “Oh, is this the boy?”

Nicholas smiled, nodding lightly. “Yeah,” he said. He handed up the menu as she quickly took their orders before bouncing back to the kitchen.

“Why’s everybody keep saying that?” Nicky asked.

“Saying what?” Nicholas asked.

“About me.”

Nicholas sighed. “Because Sandford likes to gossip,” he said honestly. “I was a bachelor that lived alone with a cat. Now I’m a single parent, and that’s all anybody wants to talk about.”

“You’re not my dad,” Nicky said simply.

Nicholas looked up at him suddenly. “What?” he asked.

“I don’t care what mum says. You’re not.” Nicky looked up at Nicholas for just a few moments before looking away again. “How can you be my dad? I never met you before.”

Nicholas sighed heavily, looking down at the table. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” he conceded.

“I don’t even know your name,” Nicky said flatly.

“Might as well call me Nick,” Nicholas said, doing a poor job at fighting the feeling of complete failure that began crushing against his chest. “Everyone else does.” He watched as Nicky shifted uneasily before turning his attention away, instead focusing on watching the kitchen door intently.


When Danny returned from his outing with Tony, he found Nicholas slumped over his desk, talking quietly into his mobile. He’d seen the man like this once before, and then the next day, the entire station exploded.

Not that buildings exploding wasn’t extremely awesome in all respects, Danny didn’t particularly want to deal with rebuilding the station again.

He waited quietly by the door, watching as Nicholas finished his telephone conversation with whomever, before finally dropping it onto his desk.

“All right, Nick?” Danny asked, taking a seat in one of the extra chairs as Nicholas looked up bleakly.

Nicholas shrugged hopelessly. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Danny,” he said honestly.

Danny frowned as he leaned across the desk to peer at a few loose forms scattered about. “Looks like your doin’ your weekend reports,” he said simply.

Nicholas shoved the paperwork aside with one sweeping motion. “Not that,” he said. “With the boy. I just...”

Sighing, Danny got up and shut the door, though he knew that if those nosy fuckers really wanted to listen, they would anyway. “He seems all right,” he pointed out. “He just needs some time to adjust, s’all.”

Nicholas cradled his head in his hands, shaking it slightly. “He said something today,” he said.

Danny shrugged. “Good. I were starting to think he were only capable of screamin’.”

“He was absolutely right, in it.” Nicholas held his breath for a few moments, trying to keep himself together. “Biologically speaking, I may be his father, but I’m not the boy’s dad,” he said. “To be that, I’d have to have been there for him before now.” He looked up, rubbing his eyes. “Not just showing up out of nowhere because there was no one better suited.”

Danny couldn’t help but laugh slightly. “Well, that were her responserability too, yeah?” he said. “Weren’t your job to phone up all your exes and ask them if they had any kids, were it?”

Nicholas managed a weak smile. “Guess not, no,” he agreed. “But I still feel like I should have done something.”

Danny shrugged. “What’s stopping you from doin’ it now?” he asked.

“I’m pretty sure he hates me,” Nicholas said.

“He don’t hate you, Nick,” Danny insisted.

“Fine. Despises me.”

Danny sighed. “He’s a kid,” he pointed out. “He hates everything. School’s startin’, and he’s gonna hate that. He’ll hate every dinner you ever make him eat. He’ll hate the jumper you’ll make him wear when it’s cold, and then he’ll hate being cold when he leaves it in some shrubs somewhere.”

Nicholas laughed, amused. “I don’t remember being that bad when I was young,” he said.

“Course not,” Danny agreed. “Cause we remembered stuff like that, we’d all know that kids is all little monsters, and we’d never shag anybody on account o’ shaggin’ leadin’ to babies, and the species would die, yeah?”

Nicholas laughed, more easily this time. “I suppose you may be on to something,” he said, reaching for his hat as he got to his feet. “Could you keep an eye on him for about an hour? I have to go take care of some things.”

Danny nodded. “Thought he were going to Auntie Jackie’s?” he asked.

Nicholas shook his head. “I figured it would be less traumatising for him to sit here feeding the dog, than taking him to yet another stranger’s house,” he said.

“’Spose that’s prob’ly smart,” Danny said quietly, following Nicholas out of the office.


***


The cup of tea next to his elbow had long since cooled, but Nicholas was still at the kitchen table, filling out endless paperwork. He’d gotten as far as he could on his own, answering the world’s most bizarre line of questioning (Did Sandford Primary really need to ask if a six-year-old had a criminal record?) he’d seen since clearing the NWA out of Sandford. Finally, realising he couldn’t continue much further without blatantly making stuff up, he put down his biro and twisted round in his chair.

“Nicky,” he called, hoping the boy was in the sitting room, since the telly was on.

“What?” Nicky asked after a few moments. “I’m busy.”

“No you’re not,” Nicholas said. “Come here.”

Nicholas heard the remote being thrown to the floor as he waited for the boy to make himself seen in the kitchen. Eventually, Nicky shuffled up to the table, pulling one of the chairs up next to Nicholas.

“What’s that?” he demanded.

“Your paperwork so you can go to school,” Nicholas said simply.

“I don’t want to go to school!” Nicky spat. “Why do I have to go? It’s stupid. I don’t want to.”

Nicholas sighed. “Because if you don’t, I’ll be arrested from depriving you a proper, well rounded education, and you’ll be sent off to Surrey to live with some horrible old woman that smells of pork, and has four hundred cats, and she’ll make you clean all of their litter pans,” Nicholas said tiredly. “Now, I’m trying to make this as painless as possible for the both of us. But that means you have to go to school.”

“Fine,” Nicky said, sinking into his seat.

“Going to school, then?” Nicholas asked.

“Yes,” Nicky said quietly.

Nicholas nodded. “Good. Just be glad you don’t have to start wearing a uniform until next year.” He began flipping through the forms, trying to get back to the beginning. “Right. What’s your birthday?”

“December eight.”

Nicholas wrote down Nicky’s response, hoping he wasn’t mistaken. “You’re six, right?”

Nicky nodded.

Nicholas looked up at him, making a conscious effort not to let on just exactly how pissed off and annoyed he really was. “Your name,” he started. “It’s Nicky, or...”

“It’s Nicky, stupid.”

Nichoals sighed. “Just Nicky, then?” he asked, finding himself dreading the answer. “Your mum never called you anything else? Not... Nicholas, or anything?”

Nicky shook his head. “No,” he said forcefully.

Nicholas inhaled deeply, trying to keep his calm as he filled out the appropriate box. “What’s your last name, then?” he asked, realising that he never even knew that detail about Tricia.

“I don’t like it,” Nicky said quietly. “It’s stupid.”

“Nicky,” Nicholas warned.

“I don’t,” Nicky insisted. “The other kids always make fun.”

Nicholas sighed. “I used to get made fun of and beaten up a lot as a kid, and not just because of my name,” he said. “Come on. Let’s hear it.”

Nicky shifted slightly, kicking his feet out. “Angel,” he muttered. “Stupid.”

Nicholas gathered up all of his self restraint to keep from slamming his head on the table. He closed his eyes tightly, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. “Of course,” he said sickly. “She gave you my name.”

Nicky frowned. “Why’d she do that?” he asked.

Nicholas continued to avoid looking at the boy. “Because she must really believe that I’m your dad,” he said simply.

“Why?” Nicky asked. “You’re not.”

“I know,” Nicholas agreed. “This, we’ve agreed on. But your mum seems to think otherwise.”

“But... you’re not.”

Nicholas sighed as he started writing on the form again. “I know,” he said. He spent several moments looking at the remaining blank spots on the form, dreading what else he might learn about his brand new little family. At least some questions would be safer than others. “What’s your middle name?”

“Austin,” Nicky said.

Nicholas let himself breathe again. “Thank god for that,” he muttered.

Nicky got up to look at what Nicholas was writing. “What?” he asked.

Nicholas shook his head, tossing his biro down to the table. “Nothing,” he said. “Get your coat. Danny wants us to go to his place for dinner. We’ll do this later.”

“You said we could have ice cream for dinner,” Nicky reminded him.

Nicholas laughed. “I said if you were good!” he pointed out. “Now go get your damn coat, so Danny can give you ice cream, anyway.”

Nicky all but jumped down from the chair, loudly running up the steps to the room that was slowly becoming his.


He was in that special place, halfway between passed out and consciousness, his mind finally switched off and wandering aimlessly. It was a good place to be, pleasantly warm and cloudy, and he was very upset to feel himself being physically shaken out of it.

“Nick!”

Nicholas opened his eyes and immediately shut them again with a heavy sigh. “What?” he demanded around his mouth guard. He was definitely going to have to have a chat with the boy about the importance of knocking before coming into his room.

Nicky grabbed tightly to his arm, doing a good show at trying to pull him out of bed. “Nick, there’s something out my window!” Nicky insisted.

“Nicky,” Nicholas started as he took out his mouth guard and dropped it into a cup of water on his night stand. “We’re on the first floor. There’s nothing out your window.”

“Yes there is; I heard it!” Nicky insisted. “It was making this sound:” He scraped his fingernails along Nicholas’ night stand in a circle-like pattern for a few moments. “I heard it!”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Nicholas accepted that the boy did not want him in bed, and threw the covers back. “Fine,” he said, reaching under the night stand for his torch. “Come on, then.” He led Nicky to the other bedroom, stopping in the door way. “Which one, then?”

Nicky pointed to the window above the bed Danny had managed to wrangle up for him, passed down from his cousin’s uncle’s niece’s gran’s sister.

“All right.” Nicholas flipped on the torch and shone it at the window, surprised to see two round, yellow eyes staring at him. He laughed, easily making his way up to the window. “’S’just an old barn owl,” he said, climbing up onto the bed. He put the torch down by his knees, lightly banging on the window. “Bugger off!”

The owl skittered momentarily before flying away.

“There,” Nicholas said. “Crisis averted. Go back to bed.”

Nicky squirmed by the door. “I don’t want to,” he said. “What if it comes back?”

Nicholas inhaled deeply. “Uhm, no,” he said. “Bed. If it comes back, it won’t be able to hurt you. There’s glass on the window for that reason.”

Nicky grumbled to himself as he climbed back into bed, picking up his stuffed dog from the floor.

“Don’t,” Nicholas warned as he walked out of the room, not bothering to make sure if the dog stayed in the boy’s possession or not. He lightly shut the door behind him, sighing at the sound of stuffed dog making contact with wood.


If asked, Nicholas would have outright denied that it was deliberate. Reorganising the roster would have happened regardless of the school year, and Nicholas’ days off being changed to the middle of the week were just coincidence. He was simply switching with Tony, who wanted weekends off to be able to spend time with his family.

Nicholas desperately craving some much-needed alone time absolutely, positively did not factor into the new schedule at all.

Although, that wasn’t to say that he didn’t completely take advantage of having an empty cottage to himself again. He knew he had tasks to be finished, and cleaning to be done, but when it came down to it, he was too tired to even bother changing out of his pyjamas; which was a ritual usually reserved to the few and far between days when he was home ill (that is to say, too badly hung over to crawl out of bed before one in the afternoon), but personal days were an acceptable reason, as well. He tried watching telly for a bit, and even managed to wash up a few dishes, but he eventually fell back into old habits, stretching out on the sofa with a book, a cat on his chest, and a nice hot cup of tea by his side. Life was pleasant and quiet, and the way it should be.

Until half-past three, when the front door flew open, and slammed shut only a few moments later.

“Don’t slam the door,” Nicholas warned.

Nicky rushed up to the sofa, frightening off the cat. “What’s that?” he asked, tossing his book bag down.

“It’s a book,” Nicholas said simply.

“Duh.”

Nicholas laughed lightly as he marked his spot with his finger and showed Nicky the cover. “It’s by a man called Stephen King,” he explained. “I don’t usually like him, but this one’s shaping up all right.”

“Who’s that?” Nicky asked. He reached for the book, twisting it to look at the dragon printed on the cover.

“A man who’s made it his mission in this world to make sure I have nightmares about airports and clowns for the rest of my life,” Nicholas explained.

Nicky frowned. “Is that what this is about?” he asked, letting go of the book, instead deciding that he’d rather climb up and sit on Nicholas’ lap. Nicholas jumped sharply, situating himself quickly to make sure he wasn’t going to get an unintentional (or intentional) knee to the bollocks.

“No,” Nicholas said, pushing Nicky into a seated position. “Sit still if you’re gonna be up here.” He managed to make himself comfortable as possible with a squirming child on his lap. “No, it’s about an evil magician and a prince,” he explained finally. “No mention of a dragon yet.”

Nicky frowned; the type that made Nicholas brace for another mention of how stupid whatever it was that was being discussed was. “Read some to me,” he said instead.

“Really?” Nicholas asked, surprised.

Nicky nodded. “Mum used to read to me every day,” he explained. “You never do anything like that.”

It was Nicholas’ turn to frown. “I didn’t know you wanted me to,” he said, trying hard to ignore the feeling that he was once again failing at being a proper parent. “Nicky, I’m very new to this. I don’t know these things if you don’t tell me.”

Nicky looked at him for a few moments before settling in, leaning back into the sofa as Nicholas found his place again.


***


“Oh, you fucker,” Nicholas snarled, trying very hard to pretend that he was not playing one of the racing games that Danny had sent home with Nicky. And he most certainly was not playing the game in his office, with far more important things to be done.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when the phone on his desk rang. Putting the game down, he answered the phone, ready to look like he was actually being productive, in case someone needed to see him.

“Angel,” he answered.

“Someone from London wants to talk to you,” Kyle Turner said tiredly on the other end.

“Well, put him through,” Nicholas responded simply.

“Fine,” Kyle muttered. “Just doing my damn job. Don’t get no—”

The line went silent, and then clicked a few times.

“Angel,” Nicholas repeated.

“Who was that?”

Nicholas recognised the voice at once. “Afternoon, Sergeant,” he said, trying to remain friendly.

“Actually, it’s inspector, now,” Travis said.

“Oh. Congratulations,” Nicholas said, picking up the PSP from his desk. It was easy to see why Danny had several of them. “Did you just call to gloat, or is this our quarterly ‘come back to London’ talk?”

Travis went silent for a few moments. “There’s... something I do need to talk to you about,” he said slowly. “Social services reported a missing child to us, this morning.”

Nicholas tried to talk and race at the same time, and found it stupidly difficult. “That’s CID,” he pointed out as he turned off the game and put it in his desk drawer.

“Yeah.” Nicholas could hear Travis fiddling with some papers. “But I wanted to call you about it personally.” He paused again, leaving Nicholas to wonder where all this was going. “You see, the kid has a very unusual name. And... I’m looking at some documentation that a young boy, the same age and name, was registered to Sandford Primary over the summer.”

Nicholas meditated on his words for a few moments. “Hang on,” he said. “When children are kidnapped, they aren’t typically registered in school, let alone under the same name.”

“Which is why I’m calling you, and not CID, Nicholas,” Travis said heavily. “You’re lucky Kenneth spotted the forms, or else you’d be talking to internal affairs right now, and not over the phone.”

Nicholas blinked a few times. “Ostensibly, this is a ‘come back to London’ talk,” Nicholas said quietly.

Travis was silent for another few moments. “Cooperate, and it will only be for the weekend,” he said finally.

“Of course,” Nicholas said instantly. “I, uhm... I don’t have a car, but I’m sure Danny will let me borrow his.” He looked at the clock, noting that it was still another hour until school let out. “Who...”

“The boy’s grandparents,” Travis said simply. “His mother’s gone missing, as well, but I was hoping you’d have some information to share before turning that much over to CID?”

Nicholas faltered for a moment. “No,” he said slowly. “I mean... She said she was going to Italy, so--”

“Don’t,” Travis said. “I can’t take statements over the phone.”

Nicholas nodded slightly. “Right,” he said. “I’ll... er... let you know when I get to London.”

“Please don’t make me look like a prick, Nicholas,” Travis said, sounding like he was trying not to beg. “I’m doing you a huge favour. Please don’t fuck everything up.”

“Of course not,” Nicholas assured. “I just have to take care of some things, and it’s a long drive. I won’t be in until this evening.”

Travis sighed. “You have until eight,” he said. “After that, it goes to CID and internal.”

“Of course,” Nicholas said numbly. He hung up, staring at the telephone on his desk. He wasn’t sure if he felt anything. Even feeling numb, there’s a feeling of something, but even that was missing.

After a few minutes, he slid his desk drawer open, retrieving the game system and sliding it into his pocket. He slowly got to his feet and pushed his office door open. “Danny,” he said quietly. “Can I have a word?”

Tony and Danny exchanged nervous glances as the younger man made his way into Nicholas’ office, shutting the door quietly.

“All right, Nicholas?” he asked cautiously.

Nicholas sighed and leaned against his desk, visibly struggling with words. “Can I borrow your car?” he settled on. “I need to be to London by eight. Something’s just come up.”

Danny nodded lightly, handing over his keys. “Sure,” he said. “You all right to drive? Last time I saw you like this, you hit a Range Rover.”

Nicholas inhaled deeply. “Yeah,” he said.

“Need me to watch after the little one while you’re gone?” Danny offered.

For a brief moment, Nicholas almost looked horrified. “No,” he said quickly. “I’ll, uhm... I’ll take him with.”

He opened the office door as Danny nodded at him and made his way to Tony’s desk on his way out.

“I’ll be out for a few days,” he said quietly. “Try to keep everything under control for me.”

Before Tony could respond, Nicholas straightened himself up and left the station. Even as he started the engine to Danny’s Mini and drove to the school, he still felt that same overwhelming nothingness, which he supposed made everything that much easier. By the time he’d finished talking to the headmaster, Nicky was waiting for him in the corridor.

“I thought Danny was getting me,” the boy said, following Nicholas out to the car.

“There’s been a change of plans,” he said, getting Nicky settled in the back. “We’re gonna take a little trip.”

“Where?”

Nicholas inhaled deeply. “A friend of mine from London wants to talk to me,” he said, feeling bad for telling such a blatant lie. “We need to fetch some things from home, first, though.”

Nicky nodded, watching as the scenery passed by the window. “Is it an overnight trip?” Nicky asked.

Nicholas considered that, fearing the fallout that could occur if he said this early what the reason for going to London was. “Probably,” he said. “We’ll pack our bags just in case.”

“Okay.”

Inside the cottage, Nicholas helped pack, trying to send the boy off with more than what he’d shown up, making sure to pack the games and DVDs given to him by Danny, as he didn’t see much point in keeping them around. He packed a small bag for himself, to keep up appearances, grabbed a few CDs for the drive, and quickly ushered Nicky back out to the car.

“Got everything?” he asked, putting the bags into the boot.

Nicky nodded, holding up his stuffed dog.

“Good.” Nicholas helped get Nicky situated back in the car before handing over the PSP. “It’s a long drive. You want any other games?”

Nicky shook his head. “No,” he said quietly.

“Right.”


He found the M4 easily enough, grateful for the second-hand game system keeping Nicky quiet and distracted through most of the ride. Until they got onto the A roads in Chiswick, at least. Nicky bounced in his seat, pressing his finger against the window. “Hey are we going to mum’s?” he practically squealed.

Nicholas sighed and shook his head. “No,” he said simply. “I’m sorry.”

“Why not?” Nicky demanded. “I wanna see my mum!”

“Because I...” he stalled slightly, hoping to keep the boy calm long enough to get them to the station. “I don’t know where she is right now,” he said honestly. “We’re here to see someone else, anyway.”

Nicky kicked the back of Nicholas’ seat. “Stupid,” he muttered.

“Hey, now,” Nicholas warned. He turned in at the station, and finding a suitable place to park, stopped the engine. “You have to be good for me in here, okay?” he said, turning in his seat to face Nicky. “I’m serious. It’s really important that you not yell and shout.”

“Why?” Nicky demanded. “I don’t want to be here. I want to see my mum.”

“I can’t take you to see her,” Nicholas said. “I would if I could, but it’s not an option right now. We just have to go in here and talk with some people, okay?”

He took the boy’s silence as some form of convoluted agreement and got out of the car, pushing the seat forward to let Nicky out. Confident that Nicky would stay put, Nicholas pulled the book bag from the boot, and slung it over his shoulder before leading Nicky inside.

As they walked into the building, a uniformed officer held out his hand. “Sir, can I...”

Nicholas showed the officer his badge, and walked straight past him without pausing. He led Nicky upstairs to Travis’ office, knocking on the door lightly. Seconds later, the door opened, revealing a very relieved looking Travis.

“Can you wait for me out here a minute?” Nicholas asked Nicky, putting the book bag down on the floor.

Nicky shrugged. “Fine,” he said.

“I mean it,” Nicholas warned. “Don’t leave from this spot.”

Nicky nodded and sat down on the floor. Satisfied that he wouldn’t move, Nicholas walked into Travis’ office, leaving the door open just wide enough to be able to keep an eye on the boy.

“What were you thinking?” Travis demanded, sitting behind his desk.

Nicholas sighed, and sat opposite him. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “The way it was explained to me, there was no other family.” He looked down at his hands, traces of blackberry jam still stuck in under his nails. “You said it was his grandparents that are looking for him?”

Travis nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “They’ve been trying to get hold of...” he opened one of the folders on his desk.

“Tricia?” Nicholas offered.

“Yeah.” Travis looked at Nicholas sceptically for a moment. “I guess she was never in the habit of answering her phone, but when they finally went round to her flat, it was empty.”

“Italy,” Nicholas filled in. “With her fiancé. I don’t remember his name. But that was a month ago, and she said they expected to be moving around quite a bit.”

Travis sat quietly for a moment. “She didn’t give you a contact number, or anything?”

Nicholas shook his head. “She was there long enough to drop him off, and then left,” he said desperately. “As I said, it was presented to me as the only option, and I didn’t want to see him stuck in foster care his whole life. I honestly was just trying to do what was best. ”

Finally, Travis relaxed a bit. “Right,” he said, sounding like he was talking to a fellow officer again, and not a criminal suspect. “There’s a social worker off bothering someone else right now, but she’ll want to have a look at the boy. Standard procedure, you know.”

Nicholas nodded, inhaling deeply. “Of course,” he said.

Suddenly, the door was pushed wide open, Nicky letting himself into the office. “Nick, my game broke,” he said sulkily.

“Oh, no.” Nicholas took the handheld from Nicky, and tried to turn it on. “Did you have it on the car the whole time? Maybe the battery’s flat.”

“Well,” Travis said awkwardly, picking up his phone. He frowned lightly. “I’ll ring the, uh, case worker up here.”

Nicholas nodded absently, still trying to figure out why the game wouldn’t turn on.


It was nearly ten by the time the social worker had decided she was satisfied, and internal affairs had decided that there was no point in pursuing a case against the matter. Nicholas took Nicky up to the canteen, and found a spot where they could recharge his game while they each picked at stale muffins. He could hear the rhythm of Travis’ speech somewhere in the distance, taking a few moments to realise that he was the one being talked about.

“I can assure you, he’s fine,” Travis rattled on. “We got lucky, this. He was with a personal friend of mine.”

Nicholas sighed. At least he was being stood up for by somebody, even if when that somebody didn’t think Nicholas could hear. He put his head down on the table, still not able to figure out what he was meant to tell the boy, and knowing that at this point, it was probably too late to say anything at all.

He looked back up in time to see Travis standing above him, and offered an uneasy smile as he got to his feet. The older couple, who Nicholas could only assume were Nicky’s grandparents, with Travis didn’t seem interested at all in any sort of greeting, and Nicholas couldn’t really say that he blamed them.

“Nicky, let’s go,” the woman said, holding out her hand.

“Nick, where we going?” Nicky asked.

Nicholas tried very hard not to cringe. “You’re gonna go... stay with your grandparents right now,” he said, picking up the book bag from the floor.

“No!” Nicky shouted, turning several heads in the canteen. “You promised! You said I don’t have to stay with nobody else!”

Wanting to avoid exactly this, Nicholas sighed deeply. “Nicky, come on,” he warned. “People are starting to talk. Stop it.”

“No, you!” He kicked blindly, but Nicholas stepped out of the way. “They’re stupid! I don’t like them!”

“Nicky, stop it!” His grandmother demanded, stepping in and taking the boy by the arm.

As Nicky wailed in protest, Nicholas sighed and handed the book bag over the man who, quite frankly, seemed less than thrilled at the prospect of having a child around again, grandson or not. “His stuff is all in here,” he said, before quickly fetching up the game and power cord from the table, tucking them into a side pocket. “He’s got some new clothes for school in there, and there’s more that I can send up, if needed. I do intend to help out, if you’ll let me.”

“That’s not necessary,” the man’s wife interjected, wrestling Nicky into her arms. After taking several whacks to the face with the stuffed dog, she pried it from the boy’s hands and gave it to her husband before making her way to the doors leading to the hall.

Sighing, Nicky’s granddad looked down at the book bag in his hand. “We’ll get in touch in a few days,” he assured, before turning to leave.

“You all right?” Travis asked quietly once the commotion had settled down.

Nicholas nodded, pulling his mobile from his pocket. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I need to... make a call.”

“Staying in town tonight?”

Nicholas shook his head. “No,” he said simply.

Nodding lightly, Travis waited for a few moments before leaving Nicholas to make his call. At first, he feared he was going to get voice mail, but a very out-of-breath Danny answered at the last minute.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Nicholas said, hearing something going on in the background. “Are you... do you have company?”

There was a pause. “Everything all right?” Danny asked.

Nicholas sighed. “I’m still in London,” he said. “Getting ready to head back. I’ll bring the car around and put the keys in the mail slot, or... something.”

Danny hummed sceptically. “You sure?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Nicholas said, before hanging up.


Nicholas pulled up outside Danny’s, surprised to find him waiting outside in his pyjamas, sitting on the front step. Sighing, Nicholas got out of the car and made his way up to Danny.

“Where’s the little one?” Danny asked. “He at home already?”

Nicholas sat down beside Danny on the step. “Something like that,” he said, sighing lightly.



Nicholas sighed, looking at the box placed before him. “You’re kidding?” he asked.

Danny shrugged. “What?”

“I’m not letting you send that,” Nicholas said. “How’s it going to look, next to what I sent?”

Danny shrugged. “S’money I’d have just spent at the pub,” he said, pushing the very heavy Sony box across Nicholas’ desk. “You’re allowed to send something small, because you give ‘em a third of your pay as well.”

Nicholas glared up at Danny before letting out a resigned sigh. “Fine,” he said, stacking a small, pre-addressed box on top of the one Danny brought into his office. “But you’re taking it to the post office. And if it doesn’t go over well, I’m blaming you.”

Danny picked up the stack. “Not every year you turn seven,” he said. “And you shouldda seen what Tony sent.”

Nicholas sighed. “I did,” he said, wondering how big of a comic collection the man had if an entire box was just ‘some things he had lying around.’