A/N: Oh boy! One shot, one shot, one shot! And I hate one shots. Well, not reading them, but most definitely writing them. But I couldn't resist. I mean, who could resist the wondrous... fictional... (x2)... happenings between Mr. Thomas Hanson and Mr. Douglas Penhall?! Tommy and Dougie. I call it Hanhall. I used to call it Penson, but Hanhall is just so much better. And Poff is scary. So is Hoffson. Ioki is just out of the question, mostly because he reminds me of an underpaid version of Jackie Chan, who is an undercover police officer, like some karate-chopping bastard who I still have yet to grasp the point of. So anyway, here it is. The first ever Hanhall fanfiction that I'll ever write. Ever. Because I'll never write a first one again.

Anyway, it's not based off of any episode. And it's the first one-shot/short story I've ever been... well, satisfied with. Oh, and it's complete with the totally corny 21-JS ending. D

"So, basically, what happens, right. After we come out of the classroom, you're talking to someone, and I turn and I see this tard-face with a gun. So I'm like 'hey, dude,' to you, but you're not listenin'. Anyways... what was I saying?" Doug Penhall hesitatated in mid-sentence. "Oh! Yea, you being the stupid kid you are-- no offense Tom-- you're not listening to me trying to tell you to stop walking in the way of the psychopath. So I grab you by the shirt, right? And you're like 'Buzz off, numbnuts', and I was thinkin' 'Well, who the hell thinks they're the numbnuts here?' 'cause, you know, the shooter. So all of a sudden, before I know it, you and five other kids are layin' on the ground, bleeding you guts out and--"

"Doug?" Tom interrupted his best friend and co-worker. As great as a guy as Doug really was, he could really go overboard sometimes. Especially with details of events, like this.

"That's my name," Doug smiled towards his friend. Tom inwardly rolled his eyes at Doug's impression to look like a movie star. As much as the man would have liked to believe that he pulled it off-- he really didn't.

"You don't need to tell me the whole story, numbnuts, if that's what we're calling each other here," Tom informed his friend, patting him on the head as if he were a dog. "I was there."

"Well, yea but... don't you want to hear it from another perspective?" Doug asked. He really did seem to be rather determined to tell Tom his side of the story. But, honestly, what side fo the story had Doug had? None, or at least none that was more interesting than Tom's. No shit-ass interpretation of how the under cover cop had felt while watching his best friend be shot in the arm by a psychopath was as interesting as the one told by the man who had actually gotten shot in the arm. Which is exactly why Tom was not prepared to tell his story about being shot in the arm. Because it was not interesting at all.

"No, not really. Now, be a real friend and please go--" Tom had began to request for Doug to go get him something to drink, but there did come some sort of interesting things when it came to being shot in the arm. For example, Tom's constant neglect to remember that his arm would hurt if he moved it-- especially abrupty. Like now. Tom had raised his right arm, to point towards a water bottle that was placed at the mobile table that was currently on the other side of the room. Wincing from the pain, Tom covered the gun wound with his hand and lowered his arm back to his side.

As Tom whispered obscenities toward his wound, Penhall instinctively bounded across the room, grabbing the water bottle, and returning to his friend's bed side. "Let me see that," Doug said, lifting Tom's hand off of his wound. Tom had no choice but to let Doug examine his wound. He grabbed the water bottle with his left hand, and watched Doug squint at the wound. Tom proceeded to flinch as the tip of Doug's index finger made contact with the wound. Why had they decided to tlet the wound breathe while Doug was here, of all people? Doug was the first one Tom would expect to make it infected, just with his existence alone. But no, apparently Tom only had to stay in the hospital one more day, in spite of the fact that there was obviously something wrong with his arm. And so Doug could do this sort of thing with it.

"Stop!" Tom said, just as Doug's finger made contact. It did hurt quite a lot, even more when he wasn't on painkillers. Doug, on the other hand, seemed to find the whole prospect of this quite amusing. Somehow, he managed to laugh at Tom a few more times, by poking (more like jabbing) the wound almost incessantly before he decided that he'd probably went a little bit overboard. Tom almost smiled in gratitude; The day Doug Penhall finally realized he needed to cool it.

"Oh, come on, Hanson," Doug laughed, sinking back in the chair that was next to the bed. He laughed, trying to lighten the air, but Doug snorted as he looked Tom back in the eyes. "Are you crying?"

"Crying's not the right word," Tom said in order to defend his masculinity. "My eyes are more watering." Doug knew better. He stood up, and leaned forward, staring Tom straight in the eyes. Doug couldn't help but snicker. Tom had been crying, all because of something he had done. How unmasculine of Tom. How fortunate of Doug's having witnessed the crying.

It was supposed to be friendly, honestly. Playing the father figure, seeing as Doug was older than Tom, he reached forward and wiped the tears off of Tom's face. They're eyes had locked, and if Doug would have had one more minute to say so, he would have mentioned how everything was going to be okay, little Tommy boy. Just kiss the boo-boo, and it'll be over with.

Talk about irony.

Who had started it? Neither of them were sure; perhaps they had both started it at the same time. The only thing they had been sure of was that they were kissing, and Tom had far forgotten about his wounded arm. Strangely enough, it felt comfortable. More comfortable than either would have expected, anyway. Making out with their best friend, of course. Who also happened to be the same gender. And what was even weirder was that they were now completely intertwined on a hospital bed, a room in which just about anyone could walk into. That was a nice thought:

"Lookie, Mommy, look! Those two men are wrestling on the bed! Is he killing that man, Mommy, is he? Mommy, what's going on! Mommy, get someone to help! Mommy, is that one going to die? Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!"

And though these exact same thoughts were going through both of their heads at almost the exact same time, neither one was pulling away. Neither one was trying to pull away, rather. The cold hard truth was, maybe it was infatuation, some unrecognizable lust. Or maybe it was something else that had caused them to do what they had just done and currently were doing, but the fact was they would have failed in trying to pull away. That was, unless Tom wanted to further his injured state to his spine or Doug wanted to suffer extreme hair loss. If either one had tried to escape by rolling off of the other, that would just just resulted in dragging the other with them.

But all that was happening in that hospital bed was some undeniably lustful (or whatever it was) making out. No pulling away. No complaining. No sounds at all, really. Well, except... you know.

Eventually, they both pulled away. It was extremely awkward compared to the almost care-free kissing that had been going on just moments before. Both of the men seemed confused, unaware of what had just brought them into doing that. Knowing it would be weird if someone really did just walk into the room and saw two men laying in the hospital, only one dressed up in hospital garb, Doug climbed out and kept his back towards Tom.

"Y'know, I think it's about time for me to get going. I think visiting time's almost done anyway."

"Yea, that's a good idea."


It wasn't a secret. The McQuaid brothers were back. The whole population of J.F.K. High knew that, but something was different. Other than the fact Tommy McQuaid was always walking around with a gun wound that he prided like a badge of authority or something. No, it was the McQuaid brother's that were different. They no longer greeted themselves with the famous McQuaid hand shake, and they were quite honestly avoiding each other, in some sort of twisted way. Sure, they were always together, but they rarely talked. They weren't the McQuaid brothers, above all.

Maybe something happened since the shooting. Maybe that's why Doug had taken the same two weeks off that Tommy had. Or maybe... maybe... maybe anything. It was the McQuid Brothers; anything could have happened between the two.

Anything except the McQuaid Brothers actually being undercover cops name Tom Hanson and Doug Penhall who got two weeks off after she shooting, in order to let Tom's arm recuperate and let Doug get out of any shock he may have been going through. Of course, Doug hadn't had any shock. He'd carried around a gun for a quite a while now, so the sight of one and most definitely the sound one made was not going to put him into Cardiac Arrest. Except, maybe, if the gun was pointed at his head and was being shot and he wasn't dying. That might have done something.

That was the only idea that never did cross through even the most eccentric and imaginative minds of J.F.K. High. Because it wasn't like an undercover cop would ever come investigate at that school, right?

Drug busts. That was all any cop over at Jump Street found he or she had to worry about recently. Everyone was getting sick of them, wishing they'd just be done with them already. There were no cases anymore, they just had to go patrol schools and make as many drug busts without getting caught. Seeing as Tom and Doug liked (or had liked, seeing as the current awkwardness in their friendship) working together on cases, and most commonly ended up working together in drug busts, there was barely a Tom Hanson or a Doug Penhall anymore. It was mostly just the McQuaid brothers, who didn't seem to be as brotherly as they used to be.

"Mr. McQuaid...?" Just about every teacher had been asking the same thing. Unfortunately, the same exact thing happened afterwards, and each time it was incredibly uncomfortable.

"Yes?" both voices came in unison. It was something they did as the McQuaid brothers. The McQuaid brothers who actually had been.. the McQuaid brothers. The McQuaid brothers before they had made out with each other. It must have been why a that moment, they would have preferred never to see each other again. To take back those five minutes in the hospital room, at least. From the uncomfortable feelings this unison created, the two glanced at each other. Their eyes met, and they immediately turned away.

"Is everything all right?" the teacher would ask. At this point, Doug had learned to be quiet and just let Tom talk. It made much more sense.

"I got shot in the arm," Tommy McQuaid would shoot out sarcastically. Of course, the fact that he had been shot in the arm was not sarcastic. It was just that he was pointing out the obvious. Though Tom and Doug weren't speaking, they had both silently agreed that it was best to just use that as their excuse.

"Does it hurt?" This was the first time Tom had been asked this since he'd gotten back. Truth was, it did hurt. But Tommy McQuaid wasn't one to just go out and admit a weakness. Normally, Tom would have looked to Doug for support. Instead, he flinched at the thought of looking at his 'brother'.

"Maybe, maybe not," Tom said, with little enthusiasm. Nor did he have the energy to try and make himself seem like the real Tommy McQuaid, which was unfortunate for both his cover and his reputation. It wasn't good for his 'brother', Doug, either. Nope, it was not good at all for Doug to be his older 'brother' who Tom had made out with. In a hospital bed. For no apparent reason. "What do you care anyway?"

"I don't know. If you want to, you can be excused to go to the nurse," the teacher smiled. Tom licked his lips, hesitating. In all truth, he would have appreciated to get out of this class, out of this school, out of this job, out of sitting next to Doug, goddamnit. So maybe it would do him some good. Rising from his empty desk, he nodded to the teacher, making his way towards the door. Just as his hand touched the doorknob, he heard his name again. "Mr. McQuaid?"

Tom turned around, but it was apparent that the teacher was talking to Doug. First of all, why was this teacher talking to Doug? Even more, why had Doug raised his hand? Second of all, why or when did teachers start calling students by their last name? It was rather confusing. Especially when there were two 'brothers' of the same surname in the same classroom.

"You know, teach..." Doug hesitated. Tom had no idea what the man was trying to prove, especially since they weren't necessarily in a fight, just not on speaking terms at the moment. "I'd-- I'd really 'preciate it if you let me escort my younger brother to the nurse's. He's got a problem with directions, I don't want him gettin' lost or anything. I don't want him dying in the hallway either, y'know. Just in case that sort of thing happens."

"Do you really think that's necessary?" the teacher asked. Tom saw the teacher's point, just from a completely different perspective. At the same time, he was extremely curious as to why Doug had decided to ask to follow Tom to wherever he would end up. Definitely not the nurse's office, of course.

"Maybe, possibly, probably, definitely." Tom surprised himself with the sound of his own voice. But he really did want to know what Doug wanted to say, no matter how bad of timing this was. "Yes."

The teacher sighed. "Alright. Mr. McQuaid, you can... escort Mr. McQuaid."

"Thanks, teach," Doug said, rising out of his seat and making his way to the front of the classroom. He patted the teacher on top of his head, and rushed past the teacher and Tom. Tom followed Doug out of his classroom. Before Doug had a chance to say anything, Tom cut him off.

"All right, what is it?"

"You know what it is," Doug said, looking nervous for a second. "Look, don't you think we should do this in a more private place?"

"No!" Tom cried, obviously exasperated, even after such a short confrontation. "You made the first move!"

"Come on, Tommy," Doug said, adding an infamous eye roll. "You totally made the first move." Just then, as if on cue, two girls made their way down the hallway. Watching the 'brothers' fight about 'making the first move', Doug managed to think up of an excuse. "In a game of Monopoly. Tommy here thinks he's the Quee-- King of Park Place, and it's really pissing me off. Someone needs to set my brother straight."

The girls looked convinced enough, as they continued to walk down the hallway. As soon as they were out of sight, Tom moved away from Doug. "Hey-- where are you going?"

"Somewhere more private," Tom said dryly, pushing open the door to the first men's bathroom he found. Crouching down, he hit his hand against each of the stall doors. "Anybody in here?" No answer. Tom proceeded to make his way towards the end of the row of stalls. Finally, he stood against the wall. Crossing his arms, he looked up at Doug who was a good four or five inches taller than him. "Now, what?"

"I don't know..."

"I don't know?" Tom repated. "I don't know!? That's what you came to tell me? That you don't know. Waste of time, don'tcha think?"

"Well--" Doug obviously didn't know what to say. Tom fought the urge to turn away and not pay attention to him. "You know, I don't know what happened back there, but, well... well, we're gonna have to get over it. Becuase, you know, we can't just be in a fight because of a... because of a..."

"You kissed me, Doug--"

"You kissed me back!"

"Exactly. That's why it's going to be hard to ignore. Because we both kissed back," Tom said, looking at the floor. He felt ashamed now. Directly after the initial kiss he'd felt embarassed, but during he'd just felt fine. Which was also hard to ignore, but he wasn't going to mention the fact that he had felt fine during the kiss-- not to Doug, anyway. That would be far too humiliating.

"I know, but..." Doug said. Both the males were looking awkwardly at the ground. There were plenty of words they could have said, but no possible way to say them. Now, Tom lived by the motto that impossible was not a word, but this, whatever this was exactly was an impossible situation. It shouldn't have happened, but it did. Tom and Doug shouldn't have been stuck here like they were. Eventually, someone looked up again. Eventually, their eyes locked.

And eventually, someone had another idea. The only problem with this 'another idea' was that this idea was the same exact same idea that had gotten them into this dilemma in the first place. Only difference? This time they weren't in a hospital bed. And this time they were much, much, much more into it than they originally had been. Given those two factors, it's safe to assume that had a boy the age of five had walked in on them, it would have been twice the traumatic experience. There is no need to elaborate any further.

Hence why it is perfectly acceptable that when a teacher, minding his own business, stepped in on them and was taken aback. It didn't help that in his mind, these two were brothers. That they were the McQuaid brothers above all. That they didn't seem to be stopping short of shagging each other, and it was ever worse when they hadn't even noticed the teacher's entrance. Even then, it took them so long to notice as the teacher had to resort to clearing his throat.

"Oh shit," Doug muttered.

"Oh shit's an understatement," Tom replied.


It wasn't a secret. No, not at all. When Captain Adam Fuller answered the call from the principal of J.F.K claiming that his sons, Tom and Doug, had been caught making out in a bathroom. Talk about incest. Luckily, Fuller was not their father, and Tom and Doug were not brothers. It had been a long, complicated phone call to explain that neither Tom's nor Doug's badge were a fake. That they were, in fact, real police officers working undercover at the school, and that they should be permitted to continue their work. As for being caught making out in a bathroom? Fuller hadn't heard any updates as far as the officer's sexuality had been going recently, but he'd have a talk with them.

The secret we're referring to is not that of Tom and Doug's undercover status, but rather of that being caught making out in the bathroom. Now, normally, Fuller would have respected the privacy of Tom and Doug, but the screaming and shouting into the phone kind of gave it away to the whole of Jump Street. So much for privacy.

Tom and Doug had a feeling that their 'secret' was out. Tom and Doug had also found reason to accept their... sexuality (that of being Fuller hadn't recently received a report of) on their drive back to the office (having being sent "home" early), but it was still awkward. Still, at least they had began talking again. Talking again on a flirtatious level, maybe even. Then again, reconsidering the situation they knew they would be faced with the second they would walk through the doors of Jump Street, maybe it was just to get their minds off of things. Or maybe it really was something else.

Every worker must have expected to see them holding hands. Maybe wearing matching, flaming pink polos. Maybe they'd be holding Chihuahua's in handbags. Maybe they wouldn't show up even-- and who knows what they would have been doing in that time? But no. Tom and Doug walked through the door looking like Tommy and Doug McQuaid. They didn't look the slightest bit flamboyantly homosexual. They just looked normal, asides from the fact they were obviously annoyed by the fact that everyone was being so silent, and staring at them nonetheless.

They made their way to Fuller's office. What they didn't know was that it would be twice as bad there. Judy was standing, waiting with a camera (perhaps she had too been expecting the flamboyant authenticity of two gay guys along with the rest of the employees? Only she must have found it necessary to photograph the moment.) Harry was looking rather amused, and Fuller looked as if, well, as if...

"You look as if tomorrow's gonna be the apocalypse," Doug said, who looked much less troubled than Tom did.

"How do you get caught," Fuller began, "making out in the bathroom?"

"Well, first you have to be making out with someone," Doug said. Tom gave him a death glare, and Doug just nudged him with his knee, urging Tom to play along.

Tom hesitated. There were just some things that should be left unsaid, but Doug felt obligated to say them. "In the bathroom, of course," he added, trying to avoid the point that Doug was trying to make. That they had in fact been making out in the bathroom.

"And whether you believe it or not," Doug said with great sincerity, "they find it a much more offensive thing when both parties actually belong in the bathroom they happen to be making out in."

"And you don't even want to venture into the idea of being in the bathroom that belongs to the opposite gender of the parties that happen to be making out in the bathroom." Tom had seen the logic in it all. They hadn't said they had been making out, they just explained how someone gets caught making out in a bathroom, and then added a few... eccentric details.

"And the offense is even more serious when the person you may be caught making out with happens to be related to you," Doug finished.

"So did you two kiss or not?" Judy asked, cutting right to the chase. Both Tom and Doug exchanged cautious glances.



Both answers were said at the same time. And as much as Tom would have preferred them (them referring to Fuller, Judy, and Ioki) not to know, they did know. The one yes was enough to let them know that yes, the two of them really had been... making out in the bathroom.

"That's adorable!" Judy said, looking nearly like she was ready to start clapping her hands and do a happy dance. "I always knew it!"

"You knew it?" To asked in surprise.

"Actually, she has a point," Ioki finally stepped in. "You guys just sort of, well-- I don't know how to explain it. But it makes sense that she always knew it."

The room was silent. No one spoke, mostly because this situation was also impossible. Only this situation was impossible in a much, much different way. Tom and Doug were both staring at the ground, until Tom finally cleared his throat. "So are we staying at J.F.K?"

"Sure thing," Fuller nodded. "No reason not to, really. You're doing good over there anyways," Fuller said, referring to the five drug busts Tom and Doug had managed to pull off in the three weeks they'd been going there before Tom had gotten shot. Fuller bit his bottom lip and looked at a file that was laying on his desk. "Anyway, just make sure... it doesn't happen again. At least, don't get caught." Tom blushed, Doug laughed. "Anyway, get out of here. All of you."

As Doug and Tom exited behind Ioki and Judy, Tom grabbed Doug by the sleeve. Ducking around a corner, he pulled Doug with him, and gave him the harshest death glare he could manage. Doug just looked amused by Tom's antics. Tom tried not to look too upset with it. "What's wrong, Tommy boy?" Doug teased, ruffling Tom's hair.

"You told them!" Tom stated simply. Doug's smile grew wider.

"Kinda hard not to," Doug said. "I mean, we were caught making out. In a bathroom. As THE MCQUAID BROTHERS!" Doug said, making a big deal out of 'The McQuaid Brothers'' title.

"Still--" Tom said, cutting himself off. He really had nothing to say, but he had the desire to say something. Now that he took everything into consideration, though, this whole situation seemed inevitable. They had made out in a hospital bed, they had made out in a bathroom. Eventually (whether or not their making out became habitual or not), the story would have gotten out. Somehow.

"Still, what?" Doug said, trying his best to pull of a puppy dog look. They didn't go over too well with any other person in Jump Street- except for Tom, perhaps. "Am I gonna pay for this or something? And by pay, does this mean absolute kink-ified sex, or none at all? Really I'd prefer the first of the choices, but, uh..."

Doug somehow managed to get away from Tom, who chased after him. "Wait! What are you saying?!" Tom called after Doug as he disappeared out of sight. Judy just had to show up at that moment.

"I don't know, Hanson," she smirked. She was really taking the 'adorable' part of this way too overboard. "What did he just say?"

I think he just said that he wants to jump my bones. That's what Tom wanted to say. And, deep down, that was also probably what he wanted, which was a slightly obscure thought to be running through his head. More from the thought of wanting it, rather than worrying how he was about to answer Judy's question, Tom rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He bit the inside of his cheek, and scratched a mosquito bite on his left arm. Finally, Tom was able to reply. "I really don't know."