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Training Afternoon (1518 words) by 
OxfordTweed
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Hot Fuzz (2007)
Rating: General Audiences
Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Nicholas Angel, Bob Walker, Danny Butterman, Andrew Wainwright, Andy Cartwright, Doris Thatcher, Tony Fisher
Summary: The officers get some self defence training.
Nicholas had timed his trip to London so that he'd get back to Sandford on Saturday night, which was the night before his weekend started. And leave it to Sandford to near 30° on Nicholas' weekend, which was when he typically did any real work. This Sunday, it was of the manual labour sort, cleaning out the rec centre that had been largely ignored for the last decade, except by horny teenagers. It didn't take much at all to convince the town hall to assimilate the building into the Sandford constabulary; they seemed eager to be rid of the useless property, actually.
When Nicholas forced the doors open, it was easy to see why. Spent condoms littered the corners of the large, single room, graffiti decorated the walls, and the whole building smelled like old beer and cat urine. A full sanitizing from top to bottom was definitely in order.
Four hours later, the floors were clean, all the windows were wide open, Nicholas' shirt had been shed, and a found radio played the only station that could be picked up in Sandford. It was a rock station, oddly enough, but the genre was slowly growing on him. Not that he'd know the words to the songs any time soon. As he worked on moving bag after bag of trash out to the front for pick up, he nearly ran into Danny as he stepped out of his Jetta, with a six-pack under his arm.
"Oi, watch it, Nick," he said, stepping awkwardly out of the way. "What's goin' on? Thought you'd be done by now?"
Nicholas sighed deeply, wiping sweat from his brow before it got in his eyes. "Not even close," he said, making his way quickly through the propped-open door. "Haven't even started painting, yet."
Danny laughed lightly as he followed Nicholas inside. "Painting? It can't be--" He stopped suddenly, looking over the graffiti patchwork walls that could very well have been poorly painted tartan, for how many layers of spray paint there were.
"Should have seen it when I got here this morning," Nicholas said as he hefted two more garbage bags out to the front. "I thought the smell would never come out."
As Nicholas walked past him, Danny caught a rather conspicuous bruise around the inspector's left eye. "Oi! Who did that to you?" he practically demanded, grabbing Nicholas by the arm to stop him walking away.
Nicholas smiled lightly as he broke away from Danny's grip. "I told you who I was going to see," he said simply.
"What a cunt."
Nicholas laughed. "I think I may have broken his nose, actually," he said simply as he walked back inside.
Biting his lip, Danny looked over the work that had already been done before setting the beer near the radio and moving to help clear the trash out. "I brought some Harp," he said lightly as he followed Nicholas out to the front, carrying two bags of his own.
"I saw," Nicholas said, smiling lightly. "Thanks."
It took twenty minutes to clear out the rest of the bags, and then another forty to mops the floors once more and try to scrub off the grime from the walls as best they could before painting over the years of tagging to a very boring eggshell white, which Nicholas argued would be mostly covered up by wall hangings in a few months, anyway. Danny couldn't argue with that, and after taking a rest to have a beer each, they began painting over the walls, which was not an easy task. Because of the oils in the spray paint, the walls had to be first painted a dark grey, which was left to dry over night. The next morning, Danny and Nicholas returned to paint the walls a lighter grey, which was left to dry for half of the day, before they returned to finish the job by finally painting them the very boring eggshell white.
Since the building was now police property, they returned on Tuesday to put up some of Nicholas' wall hangings, and lay out a padded floor, which was heavy as all fuck, but Danny didn't mind, because it was doing something other than chasing that damn swan around again. Tony was doing that, instead.
The officers -- including one of the Turners; the other was manning the station for the night -- stood in an awkward line, barefoot, wearing what Andrew described as "queer little dressing gowns," although, they were really nothing like dressing gowns. He really just didn't like the belt they wore. They were completely white. Even their belts were white.
After a few minutes, Nicholas entered the large room, wearing his own judogi, but with a black belt. He silently walked over to the other officers, stopping at Andy.
"It's backwards," he said simply, pointing at Andy's jacket. "Left over right. Fix it."
Andy scoffed at Nicholas. "But I like it this way," he said flatly.
"Fix it," Nicholas repeated sternly. He stood in front of Andy until he untied his belt and folded his jacket properly, before walking a few paces away from the other officers. "Right, now come here."
"Me?" Andy asked dumbly.
"Yes."
Andy sighed and shuffled over to Nicholas. "What?" he asked.
"Strike me," Nicholas said simply, standing with his hands at his sides.
Andy raised his eyebrows at the request. "Gladly," he said, before lining up a swing, aimed for Nicholas' jaw.
Before he knew what had happened, he found himself thrown onto his back, looking up at the ceiling, which was still quite nasty. "What the fuck, Nick?" he managed to cough out.
A hard look toward the other officers kept them from moving forward. "You will treat these walls, and the people within them with respect," he said as he stepped over Andy. "I won't tell you to do something that will put you in harm's way, but if I tell you to do something, you will do it."
Andy coughed again, but stayed on the floor. Nicholas was a prick, but at least he wasn't the type to kick someone when they were down. After a few moments of heavy silence, Nicholas helped him to his feet, and directed him to take his position with the other officers.
"Andrew," Nicholas said stiffly.
Andrew hesitated for a moment before approaching the inspector. Before he could ask what sick, twisted thing was going on, Nicholas nodded.
"Strike me," he said simply.
Like Andy, Andrew lined up to take a swing, and like Andrew, he found himself on his back. It was exactly what Nicholas had expected to happen, but he was still disappointed. After a moment, he helped Andrew to his feet and directed him back to the group. "Danny," he said simply.
"Nick," Danny whined, even as he stepped forward.
Nicholas nodded.
"I can't do that," Danny said weakly. "Why we doin' this?"
"Because this isn't something you can learn on your own," Nicholas said simply. "Now, come on."
Danny sighed and weakly kicked at Nicholas' shin, not even making contact. Nicholas shook his head and sighed, doing his best to look extremely disappointed. Danny didn't miss the look on Nicholas face, and grinding his teeth, made to really kick at Nicholas, since that's what he clearly wanted. He meant to hit Nicholas in the hip, but instead, Nicholas did some grabby, dodgey thing, and Danny was on the floor.
"You're a horrible person," Danny muttered toward the ceiling.
"It's for your own good." Nicholas helped him to his feet. "Walker."
"Doanwaan," Walker muttered.
Sighing, Nicholas looked toward Danny.
"He doesn't want to," Danny said, grimacing.
"Why not?" Nicholas asked.
"Mauld."
"He's old," Danny repeated.
Nicholas sighed again. "You have to," he said. "Now, come on."
"PuSaxonyer."
Danny looked at the floor. This was going nowhere good. "He'll just put Saxon on you," he said.
"All officers need to learn self defence in the form of hand to hand combat," Nicholas explained tiredly. "No exceptions."
Shaking his head, Walker finally stepped forward. "Fine!"
"Fine," Danny repeated.
Walker stopped about a pace away from Nicholas, both men staring one another down silently. Expecting a staring match, Nicholas was taken a bit off guard when a high roundhouse was aimed for the side of his head. He managed to duck out of the way, but just barely. He adopted a ready stance as Walker again struck at him, his blows mismatched for Nicholas' training. He managed to block the strikes, if only just barely, but he knew he was just keeping up with the old man. He tried to get a good hold of Walker, but the officer twisted and spun out of his grip, attempting to land a blow at the same time. He stopped when Nicholas was backed to the edge of the padded flooring, backing away calmly.
"SaIdoanwaan," Walker muttered as he made his way toward the door. "Spails."
"He said he doesn't want to," Danny said weakly. "It's pointless."
Nicholas watched, panting lightly, as Walker left the building. "Right," he said, shaking his head lightly. "Uhm... Doris. Your turn."
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Hot Fuzz (2007)
Rating: General Audiences
Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Nicholas Angel, Bob Walker, Danny Butterman, Andrew Wainwright, Andy Cartwright, Doris Thatcher, Tony Fisher
Summary: The officers get some self defence training.
Nicholas had timed his trip to London so that he'd get back to Sandford on Saturday night, which was the night before his weekend started. And leave it to Sandford to near 30° on Nicholas' weekend, which was when he typically did any real work. This Sunday, it was of the manual labour sort, cleaning out the rec centre that had been largely ignored for the last decade, except by horny teenagers. It didn't take much at all to convince the town hall to assimilate the building into the Sandford constabulary; they seemed eager to be rid of the useless property, actually.
When Nicholas forced the doors open, it was easy to see why. Spent condoms littered the corners of the large, single room, graffiti decorated the walls, and the whole building smelled like old beer and cat urine. A full sanitizing from top to bottom was definitely in order.
Four hours later, the floors were clean, all the windows were wide open, Nicholas' shirt had been shed, and a found radio played the only station that could be picked up in Sandford. It was a rock station, oddly enough, but the genre was slowly growing on him. Not that he'd know the words to the songs any time soon. As he worked on moving bag after bag of trash out to the front for pick up, he nearly ran into Danny as he stepped out of his Jetta, with a six-pack under his arm.
"Oi, watch it, Nick," he said, stepping awkwardly out of the way. "What's goin' on? Thought you'd be done by now?"
Nicholas sighed deeply, wiping sweat from his brow before it got in his eyes. "Not even close," he said, making his way quickly through the propped-open door. "Haven't even started painting, yet."
Danny laughed lightly as he followed Nicholas inside. "Painting? It can't be--" He stopped suddenly, looking over the graffiti patchwork walls that could very well have been poorly painted tartan, for how many layers of spray paint there were.
"Should have seen it when I got here this morning," Nicholas said as he hefted two more garbage bags out to the front. "I thought the smell would never come out."
As Nicholas walked past him, Danny caught a rather conspicuous bruise around the inspector's left eye. "Oi! Who did that to you?" he practically demanded, grabbing Nicholas by the arm to stop him walking away.
Nicholas smiled lightly as he broke away from Danny's grip. "I told you who I was going to see," he said simply.
"What a cunt."
Nicholas laughed. "I think I may have broken his nose, actually," he said simply as he walked back inside.
Biting his lip, Danny looked over the work that had already been done before setting the beer near the radio and moving to help clear the trash out. "I brought some Harp," he said lightly as he followed Nicholas out to the front, carrying two bags of his own.
"I saw," Nicholas said, smiling lightly. "Thanks."
It took twenty minutes to clear out the rest of the bags, and then another forty to mops the floors once more and try to scrub off the grime from the walls as best they could before painting over the years of tagging to a very boring eggshell white, which Nicholas argued would be mostly covered up by wall hangings in a few months, anyway. Danny couldn't argue with that, and after taking a rest to have a beer each, they began painting over the walls, which was not an easy task. Because of the oils in the spray paint, the walls had to be first painted a dark grey, which was left to dry over night. The next morning, Danny and Nicholas returned to paint the walls a lighter grey, which was left to dry for half of the day, before they returned to finish the job by finally painting them the very boring eggshell white.
Since the building was now police property, they returned on Tuesday to put up some of Nicholas' wall hangings, and lay out a padded floor, which was heavy as all fuck, but Danny didn't mind, because it was doing something other than chasing that damn swan around again. Tony was doing that, instead.
The officers -- including one of the Turners; the other was manning the station for the night -- stood in an awkward line, barefoot, wearing what Andrew described as "queer little dressing gowns," although, they were really nothing like dressing gowns. He really just didn't like the belt they wore. They were completely white. Even their belts were white.
After a few minutes, Nicholas entered the large room, wearing his own judogi, but with a black belt. He silently walked over to the other officers, stopping at Andy.
"It's backwards," he said simply, pointing at Andy's jacket. "Left over right. Fix it."
Andy scoffed at Nicholas. "But I like it this way," he said flatly.
"Fix it," Nicholas repeated sternly. He stood in front of Andy until he untied his belt and folded his jacket properly, before walking a few paces away from the other officers. "Right, now come here."
"Me?" Andy asked dumbly.
"Yes."
Andy sighed and shuffled over to Nicholas. "What?" he asked.
"Strike me," Nicholas said simply, standing with his hands at his sides.
Andy raised his eyebrows at the request. "Gladly," he said, before lining up a swing, aimed for Nicholas' jaw.
Before he knew what had happened, he found himself thrown onto his back, looking up at the ceiling, which was still quite nasty. "What the fuck, Nick?" he managed to cough out.
A hard look toward the other officers kept them from moving forward. "You will treat these walls, and the people within them with respect," he said as he stepped over Andy. "I won't tell you to do something that will put you in harm's way, but if I tell you to do something, you will do it."
Andy coughed again, but stayed on the floor. Nicholas was a prick, but at least he wasn't the type to kick someone when they were down. After a few moments of heavy silence, Nicholas helped him to his feet, and directed him to take his position with the other officers.
"Andrew," Nicholas said stiffly.
Andrew hesitated for a moment before approaching the inspector. Before he could ask what sick, twisted thing was going on, Nicholas nodded.
"Strike me," he said simply.
Like Andy, Andrew lined up to take a swing, and like Andrew, he found himself on his back. It was exactly what Nicholas had expected to happen, but he was still disappointed. After a moment, he helped Andrew to his feet and directed him back to the group. "Danny," he said simply.
"Nick," Danny whined, even as he stepped forward.
Nicholas nodded.
"I can't do that," Danny said weakly. "Why we doin' this?"
"Because this isn't something you can learn on your own," Nicholas said simply. "Now, come on."
Danny sighed and weakly kicked at Nicholas' shin, not even making contact. Nicholas shook his head and sighed, doing his best to look extremely disappointed. Danny didn't miss the look on Nicholas face, and grinding his teeth, made to really kick at Nicholas, since that's what he clearly wanted. He meant to hit Nicholas in the hip, but instead, Nicholas did some grabby, dodgey thing, and Danny was on the floor.
"You're a horrible person," Danny muttered toward the ceiling.
"It's for your own good." Nicholas helped him to his feet. "Walker."
"Doanwaan," Walker muttered.
Sighing, Nicholas looked toward Danny.
"He doesn't want to," Danny said, grimacing.
"Why not?" Nicholas asked.
"Mauld."
"He's old," Danny repeated.
Nicholas sighed again. "You have to," he said. "Now, come on."
"PuSaxonyer."
Danny looked at the floor. This was going nowhere good. "He'll just put Saxon on you," he said.
"All officers need to learn self defence in the form of hand to hand combat," Nicholas explained tiredly. "No exceptions."
Shaking his head, Walker finally stepped forward. "Fine!"
"Fine," Danny repeated.
Walker stopped about a pace away from Nicholas, both men staring one another down silently. Expecting a staring match, Nicholas was taken a bit off guard when a high roundhouse was aimed for the side of his head. He managed to duck out of the way, but just barely. He adopted a ready stance as Walker again struck at him, his blows mismatched for Nicholas' training. He managed to block the strikes, if only just barely, but he knew he was just keeping up with the old man. He tried to get a good hold of Walker, but the officer twisted and spun out of his grip, attempting to land a blow at the same time. He stopped when Nicholas was backed to the edge of the padded flooring, backing away calmly.
"SaIdoanwaan," Walker muttered as he made his way toward the door. "Spails."
"He said he doesn't want to," Danny said weakly. "It's pointless."
Nicholas watched, panting lightly, as Walker left the building. "Right," he said, shaking his head lightly. "Uhm... Doris. Your turn."
