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Dover (1215 words) by 
OxfordTweed
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Hot Fuzz (2007)
Rating: General Audiences
Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Nicholas Angel, Danny Butterman, OC - Character
Summary: Nicholas is upset with everything right now.
Dover.
Who moves to Dover?
Nicholas Angel, apparently. That's who.
He doesn't even have a flat of his own. Just a room at a guest house that overlooks the harbour. Not even a very big room. Most of his belongings have gone into public storage. Nicholas isn't even sure where most of it came from; just random assorted items and trinkets that he certainly didn't take to Sandford with him. He counted twenty three jade figurines as he packed up his cottage. It would have been twenty four, but he never did take the dragon back that he'd left on Danny's television.
Where had they all come from, anyway? Dragons and pandas and elephants. Even a dolphin.
Twenty three small, green carvings.
It doesn't take him long to fall back into familiar habits. Get up at six, quick run around the harbour, back home for a shower, go to the station, shift, back home to go to bed, and wake up the next morning to start it all over again.
Except for the weekends.
The first weekend, Nicholas decided he was going to need a car. Dover's much bigger than Sandford, but doesn't have the public transport of London. And there are some places you just can't walk. He found himself a used Lupo for £2000. Cheap, really, although it was money Nicholas didn't really have to spend in the first place. At least it's a Volkswagen, so it gets good mileage.
He never thought he'd say this, but he wants to go home. Not as in wants to go back and move in with his parents, but just get off shift early, and go to bed. Simple request, really. But an inspector really shouldn't be leaving the station early for anything short of a severe family emergency, so Nicholas stays slumped over his desk, pretending to work for the first time ever simply to avoid doing any real work. In the past, he's always pretended to work to set a good example when there was no work to be done.
Maybe Sandford's made him weak. Or lazy. Or mental. Or a combination of any or all of the above. It's hard to tell, really.
So he just ignores it, and continues to pretend to work. At least he doesn't have to think.
It's not so much that he doesn't want to think. He doesn't want to be like every other useless officer that doesn't pull their own weight. He wants very much to be able to think clearly, and not get distracted at the slightest noise in the next office. He also wants very much to be able to get home at night, and when he goes to bed, actually go to sleep.
He's slept alone most of his life, so why should it be bothering him, now? He'd only shared a bed with Travis a small handful of times, and he and Janine had completely failed at cohabiting, but something about sleeping alone is keeping him from sleeping. He tries to tell himself that he's not bothered by the otherwise empty bed. It's clearly the new location. He's somewhere he's not comfortable. Sure, it could easily and logically be argued that he slept perfectly soundly when he first moved to Sandford, but situations were different then. Weren't they?
Nicholas isn't sure how, but he's certain situations were different, then.
Raleigh doesn't trust him. It doesn't take a detective to figure that out. But the distrust is a mutual feeling. Nicholas has overheard the chief talking hushed about "post-traumatic stress" and "public image" in conversations when he thought Nicholas wasn't around. But Nicholas has seen him, pretending not to be watching from across the room as he spends his lunch, staring at a cup of cold tea. He still wants to go home. He's only half-way through shift, and he just wants to go home and try to sleep.
He's jarred suddenly, spilling tea over the scratched table surface, when a PC suddenly slaps Nicholas on the back. Nicholas can't remember his name. He tries to recall, but it's not surfacing. When the PC starts talking, Nicholas barely has time to focus, registering bits and pieces of what's said.
"Oy," the PC says, leaning far too close into Nicholas' personal area. "Nick. You paying attention to me, mate?"
Nicholas frowns suddenly. "Excuse me?" he snaps.
The PC takes a step back, startled.
"I'm a superior ranking officer," Nicholas continues, jumping to his feet. "You will address me as such. Keep the casual language with your street clothes, officer," he orders. He picks up his half-spilled tea, and retreats back to his office, slamming the door behind himself.
Saunders. That's the PC's name.
It's not long after when Raleigh invites himself into Nicholas' office. He doesn't knock. Doesn't ask permission. But he's the chief, so he's allowed to do that.
"Go home," he says simply.
"Sir, I'm fine," Nicholas insists. "Really." He's not sure why he's insisting, when all he's wanted for the last two hours were to go home.
"It's not an offer," Raleigh says. "You can't just go around yelling at the officers. Go home, and don't come back until you get yourself straightened out."
Nicholas realizes what he's saying, even though he hasn't actually said the words.
"Sir?"
"You can leave your badge in here, but you can't take it with you."
Raleigh leaves as quickly as he entered, leaving Nicholas alone. He wanted to go home, yes, but just for the day. Steeling himself, he finishes his cold tea, and places his badge and cup on his desk before leaving the station.
Straighten yourself out. What does that mean?
Nicholas waited a full two weeks before deciding that he's sick of England. Katie has a spare room in Wales that's been offered at least twice a year since she moved into the small house. He hasn't called her yet to let her know he'll be showing up on her doorstep, but he figures it might be easier if he waits until just before he shows up on her doorstep to call. He's made all the proper arrangements with the public storage. He's paid in full for two months in advance, after which, he'll arrange to have everything taken to Wales.
He gives Mark his key to his room just as he finishes loading what few boxes he has in his possession into the Lupo, when he hears the Jetta pull up on the other side of the road. He thinks that maybe if he ignores it, it will go away.
It doesn't.
He watches as Danny carefully crosses the road, and slowly makes his way up to Nicholas. What the hell is he expecting? A fucking hug? "I'm sorry"? He tries to think of something to say, but all he can think of is what he wrote in that letter, which he meant to be taking to the post office in about ten minutes. But that was the plan before Danny showed up. So Nicholas just stands there dumbly, looking at Danny.
Why did he follow him all the way out to Dover?
Danny stops at the Lupo, leaning against the side. "Hey," he says uncertainly.
And Nicholas realizes that he's just going to start making Danny miserable all over again.
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Hot Fuzz (2007)
Rating: General Audiences
Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Nicholas Angel, Danny Butterman, OC - Character
Summary: Nicholas is upset with everything right now.
Dover.
Who moves to Dover?
Nicholas Angel, apparently. That's who.
He doesn't even have a flat of his own. Just a room at a guest house that overlooks the harbour. Not even a very big room. Most of his belongings have gone into public storage. Nicholas isn't even sure where most of it came from; just random assorted items and trinkets that he certainly didn't take to Sandford with him. He counted twenty three jade figurines as he packed up his cottage. It would have been twenty four, but he never did take the dragon back that he'd left on Danny's television.
Where had they all come from, anyway? Dragons and pandas and elephants. Even a dolphin.
Twenty three small, green carvings.
It doesn't take him long to fall back into familiar habits. Get up at six, quick run around the harbour, back home for a shower, go to the station, shift, back home to go to bed, and wake up the next morning to start it all over again.
Except for the weekends.
The first weekend, Nicholas decided he was going to need a car. Dover's much bigger than Sandford, but doesn't have the public transport of London. And there are some places you just can't walk. He found himself a used Lupo for £2000. Cheap, really, although it was money Nicholas didn't really have to spend in the first place. At least it's a Volkswagen, so it gets good mileage.
He never thought he'd say this, but he wants to go home. Not as in wants to go back and move in with his parents, but just get off shift early, and go to bed. Simple request, really. But an inspector really shouldn't be leaving the station early for anything short of a severe family emergency, so Nicholas stays slumped over his desk, pretending to work for the first time ever simply to avoid doing any real work. In the past, he's always pretended to work to set a good example when there was no work to be done.
Maybe Sandford's made him weak. Or lazy. Or mental. Or a combination of any or all of the above. It's hard to tell, really.
So he just ignores it, and continues to pretend to work. At least he doesn't have to think.
It's not so much that he doesn't want to think. He doesn't want to be like every other useless officer that doesn't pull their own weight. He wants very much to be able to think clearly, and not get distracted at the slightest noise in the next office. He also wants very much to be able to get home at night, and when he goes to bed, actually go to sleep.
He's slept alone most of his life, so why should it be bothering him, now? He'd only shared a bed with Travis a small handful of times, and he and Janine had completely failed at cohabiting, but something about sleeping alone is keeping him from sleeping. He tries to tell himself that he's not bothered by the otherwise empty bed. It's clearly the new location. He's somewhere he's not comfortable. Sure, it could easily and logically be argued that he slept perfectly soundly when he first moved to Sandford, but situations were different then. Weren't they?
Nicholas isn't sure how, but he's certain situations were different, then.
Raleigh doesn't trust him. It doesn't take a detective to figure that out. But the distrust is a mutual feeling. Nicholas has overheard the chief talking hushed about "post-traumatic stress" and "public image" in conversations when he thought Nicholas wasn't around. But Nicholas has seen him, pretending not to be watching from across the room as he spends his lunch, staring at a cup of cold tea. He still wants to go home. He's only half-way through shift, and he just wants to go home and try to sleep.
He's jarred suddenly, spilling tea over the scratched table surface, when a PC suddenly slaps Nicholas on the back. Nicholas can't remember his name. He tries to recall, but it's not surfacing. When the PC starts talking, Nicholas barely has time to focus, registering bits and pieces of what's said.
"Oy," the PC says, leaning far too close into Nicholas' personal area. "Nick. You paying attention to me, mate?"
Nicholas frowns suddenly. "Excuse me?" he snaps.
The PC takes a step back, startled.
"I'm a superior ranking officer," Nicholas continues, jumping to his feet. "You will address me as such. Keep the casual language with your street clothes, officer," he orders. He picks up his half-spilled tea, and retreats back to his office, slamming the door behind himself.
Saunders. That's the PC's name.
It's not long after when Raleigh invites himself into Nicholas' office. He doesn't knock. Doesn't ask permission. But he's the chief, so he's allowed to do that.
"Go home," he says simply.
"Sir, I'm fine," Nicholas insists. "Really." He's not sure why he's insisting, when all he's wanted for the last two hours were to go home.
"It's not an offer," Raleigh says. "You can't just go around yelling at the officers. Go home, and don't come back until you get yourself straightened out."
Nicholas realizes what he's saying, even though he hasn't actually said the words.
"Sir?"
"You can leave your badge in here, but you can't take it with you."
Raleigh leaves as quickly as he entered, leaving Nicholas alone. He wanted to go home, yes, but just for the day. Steeling himself, he finishes his cold tea, and places his badge and cup on his desk before leaving the station.
Straighten yourself out. What does that mean?
Nicholas waited a full two weeks before deciding that he's sick of England. Katie has a spare room in Wales that's been offered at least twice a year since she moved into the small house. He hasn't called her yet to let her know he'll be showing up on her doorstep, but he figures it might be easier if he waits until just before he shows up on her doorstep to call. He's made all the proper arrangements with the public storage. He's paid in full for two months in advance, after which, he'll arrange to have everything taken to Wales.
He gives Mark his key to his room just as he finishes loading what few boxes he has in his possession into the Lupo, when he hears the Jetta pull up on the other side of the road. He thinks that maybe if he ignores it, it will go away.
It doesn't.
He watches as Danny carefully crosses the road, and slowly makes his way up to Nicholas. What the hell is he expecting? A fucking hug? "I'm sorry"? He tries to think of something to say, but all he can think of is what he wrote in that letter, which he meant to be taking to the post office in about ten minutes. But that was the plan before Danny showed up. So Nicholas just stands there dumbly, looking at Danny.
Why did he follow him all the way out to Dover?
Danny stops at the Lupo, leaning against the side. "Hey," he says uncertainly.
And Nicholas realizes that he's just going to start making Danny miserable all over again.
