Well, we've come to the epilogue. Though there is a continuation of this story called 'Steps, Forwards and Back' which is already posted. You can find it on my profile.
Once again, I'd like to thank everyone who's read this and everyone who's reviewed, and most of all, I'd like to thank InSilva who is a lot more wonderful than anyone can imagine. ;)
A reluctant step back. "We should go."
"Yeah." Holding his hand tightly. Not wanting to let go. Never wanting to let go.
Stay where you are, Saul had told him. Keep the others there. Sure. Yeah. Like it was that easy. Reuben hated waiting and he hated worrying even more. Hated having reasons to worry. How the hell had this happened, that's what he wanted to know. It had been maybe an hour between Danny's phonecall and Saul phoning to tell them that everyone was safe at least. That Carson was back in custody. That Linus was hurt and Saul was taking him to the hospital. That the boys were fine and together and with Bobby.
Even at that news there wasn't much celebrating. Too much worrying about exactly what the hell 'fine' was supposed to mean. Too much worrying about Linus, despite Saul's repeated assurances that he'd be fine – assurances that Reuben had to figure were at least as much for Linus' ears as the lot of them gathered round the speaker phone. Too much worrying – wondering – about how the hell had this happened?
Still, it was better than the hour immediately before. He'd spent the time telling Frank and the twins to sit down and shut up. Getting impromptu lessons in exotic Chinese vocabulary. Agreeing with Basher that there were a great many things that were just too good for Carson. Listening to Livingston explaining for the hundred and sixteenth time that there were no cameras in the parking lot, and no, there was actually nothing he could do about it, and yes, he did think it was a really stupid idea but unfortunately he hadn't designed the system. Pleading with everyone to sit tight and wait.
Wasn't good. And they were still waiting now.
Until Danny and Rusty walked through the door. Then it was overwhelming relief and relentless questions.
He studied them anxiously. Danny looked okay. Physically, anyway. Other ways he looked exhausted. Rusty had a few more bruises. Bad enough that Reuben couldn't help but wonder if Bobby would consider holding some visiting hours for Carson. But they were doing a good job of looking confident. Undefeated. Together. And the only way the tension was obvious was in the fact that if they were standing any closer together they'd be holding hands.
The questions flew thick and fast and anxious. Oddly, Reuben thought it was probably good for them. Meant they could pick and choose what they said and no one noticed. And if a few gaping holes got left in the shuffle, well, that was kind of inevitable.
As long as they were safe, as long as they were happy – he could live without the truth.
His hand was numb and Linus was slowly coming to the conclusion that drugs were good.
He didn't know what Saul had said to the hospital staff but he seemed to be getting seen and treated in record time. Only reason they were having to wait around now was that x-rays apparently took time to develop no matter how persuasive you were.
Saul hadn't left his side. And Linus had patiently explained more than once that he was twenty-three and really didn't need a babysitter. Saul had looked at him and he'd shut up pretty quickly. Not that it had stopped him from trying again. He could be really persistent when he wanted to be.
Saul had made four phone calls. First to Dad to tell him they had reached the hospital. Then to Reuben to tell him that everything was okay. Then to Dad again to say that everything was going well and that the doctors seemed completely confident that Linus was going to be fine.
Which they were. Clean fractures. Uncomplicated. Apparently Carson was good at breaking fingers. Linus thought again of the moment and the look in Carson's eyes, glee and fascination and sharp joy, and the pain and he felt sick.
He'd screamed. Last night Carson had seemed to think that Rusty wouldn't. He wondered what that made him.
The fourth call was to Danny. There was no answer and Saul left a brief message. Just saying that Linus was going to be okay and asking them to go to Reuben's.
Linus looked at Saul sideways as he hung up the phone. "Do you think Danny's going to be okay?"
"Yes," Saul said after a brief pause. He didn't elaborate.
Linus nodded. It had been frightening. Danny had been frightening. And he tried not to think about the moment when he'd had to wonder whether his life mattered to Danny at all. Those wounds were deep and barely scabbed over. It had mattered. In the end, it had mattered, and that was all that counted.
"Do you think that Rusty's going to be all right?" he asked eventually, even more hesitantly.
Saul didn't answer him for a long moment. "Yes," he said again, finally, and his voice was soft and full of confidence. It sounded more like a vow than an answer.
"I still don't understand everything that happened," he admitted quietly. He got that Danny had seen something he wasn't supposed to. The same something that Rusty had been looking for so frantically. Some file. Something that was bad enough that it sent Danny so far out of his mind that murder in cold blood seemed sensible and reasonable. And though he had no real idea exactly what was in it, Carson's words and his own imagination had thrown up plenty of sickening suggestions.
"Good," Saul told him absently. "Don't try to figure it out."
He nodded. He didn't think he'd ever be able to stop himself from speculating, didn't think that he'd be able to keep his mind from dreaming up countless horror. But he got that details were personal and private and absolutely guarded. And he was never going to ask questions.
Saul was looking at him, a slight smile gracing his face. "You did well today, Linus. You're a good man. Bobby's right to be proud."
He could feel himself visibly flush with pleasure, and he didn't mind a bit.
It took a while before everyone settled down. Lots of questions. All the guys pressing in on them, wanting to shake hands, clap them on the shoulders, reassure themselves that everything was okay. And Rusty had been expecting that, had done his best to mentally prepare for that. But it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Danny was the recipient of Frank's enthusiastic pat on the back, the twins' friendly punches, Basher's arm slung casually over his shoulders. Everyone was careful with Rusty. Careful he saw them coming. Careful about sudden movements. Careful not to make a big deal out of it. And he was certain they hadn't discussed it before.
He caught Danny's eye. Yeah, Danny had noticed it too and returned the invisible smile and the affectionate amusement. They had good friends.
Eventually, when they'd said everything they were willing to more than once, the friendly interrogation broke up and the actual job became the focus of conversation. Yen complained bitterly about the delay in the vault and Danny explained about Linus stealing the detonator and Rusty thought he'd never stop laughing. Danny looked at him and smiled like that was the point. Turk sounded disappointed about the destruction of the SWAT uniforms. Apparently he thought they'd be good for picking up women. Frank gave a spirited and affectionate impression of Sheldon Willis and a rather less affectionate imitation of Terry Benedict. Livingston asked Rusty curiously about exactly what he'd said to Terry on the phone.
Time passed and everyone was having a good time, and the only tension was in waiting for Saul and Linus. And no matter how often Reuben repeated Saul's reassurances, he was worrying. Danny was worrying. Everyone was worrying. No one wanted anyone else hurt.
But for the rest...he and Danny put on a good act. Relaxed and laughing and absolutely and unquestionably in control. An evening spent among triumphant friends, and thoughts of death and murder couldn't touch them. Good thing they were natural liars.
It was an hour or so later that Linus and Saul finally arrived back and the feeling of relief was immediate and Linus looked stunned and Saul looked amused at the sheer jubilation they were greeted with.
He and Danny hung back. Certainly everything he wanted to say wasn't for public ears. He studied Linus anxiously. The kid looked okay. Pale and maybe a little doped up, and his hand was well wrapped. But okay. It took him a moment to realise that Saul was looking anxiously at him and he managed to meet Saul's eyes, managed to offer a reassuring nod.
Linus was looking flustered in the face of anxious interrogation, trying to answer ten questions at once.
"No it doesn't hurt that much...well, I mean, it did...they just taped it up...I gotta keep the splint on for five weeks...really doesn't hurt...look, it's not a cast so you can't sign it...yeah, Carson didn't like me trying to escape I guess...I punched him though...yes, really...maybe it hurts a little...seriously, you can't write on it!"
Rusty caught Danny grinning at him. The twins were persistent. But Linus seemed okay and he breathed a sigh of relief. Still, he needed to talk. Apologise. Because it was his fault that they'd been caught. His fault that Linus had been hurt. And he hoped Linus would forgive him.
Danny was looking at Linus too. And it didn't matter that no one else would ever know, Rusty could see the tension and the hesitation and the regret and the nervousness.
"You too, huh," he said quietly.
Danny smiled tightly. "Yeah. Need to - "
" - right," Rusty nodded sympathetically. He got it.
"And you need to talk to Saul," Danny told him quietly.
Rusty nodded. "Yeah." He did. He had no doubt that Saul had been terrified for him tonight.
But Danny was still looking at him, compassion and understanding and apology in his eyes. "You need to talk to Saul," he said again, as if he was willing Rusty to get it.
And Rusty didn't. But his mouth was suddenly dry. "Why?"
Danny looked regretful. "He was with me when - "
"No!" he exclaimed, a little too loud, a little too anguished and Frank turned round and looked at them, concern all over his face, and they smiled until he looked away again. "He saw...the photos...he saw me."
A slow nod. "I'm sorry."
Rusty bit his lip as hard as he could and looked at the floor, trying to master the crushing wave of shame and nausea and self-loathing. Saul had seen him like that. Had seen him humiliated, seen what he'd let Felding do to him. And Danny had seen too...it was easier when it was just Carson. That was only unbearable. This was so much worse.
It hurt. Thinking about it hurt, and he could feel Felding's hands on him, inside him, and he wanted to hurt himself, wanted to punch himself again and again, wanted to tear and claw at his skin until there was nothing left of him. Carefully he clasped his hands together.
"Hey," Danny said softly. "It's all right."
He shook his head quickly. "I don't want to talk to him."
Danny sighed and looked away briefly. "Look. Honestly? I think you should. But if you can't – even if you just don't want to – well, the patio doors are right there. We walk out, walk past the pool, two minutes and we're gone before anyone even realises."
It was tempting. Right up until the moment when he imagined how Saul would react. What Saul would think. "Couldn't."
"I know," Danny said sympathetically, and he didn't look surprised. "He'll never think any less of you. You know that."
"Yeah," he said, and he knew he should be convinced.
There was no answer and he blinked and looked over. Danny was frozen. Staring inwards. Some moment of realisation and Rusty didn't know what it was.
"What?" he asked sharply.
"Saul was with me when I was reading the file," Danny said in a hushed voice. "And I just walked out and left the file there. And...I don't know if...anyone could have read it."
Oh. He knew that should bother him. But really, what could be worse than Danny seeing? Than Saul seeing? Than Carson? He already felt like public property. "'S'okay," he said, and his voice sounded a little dead in his ears. "Nothing we can do about it now. You were thinking about other things. Not like the prison doesn't still have copies." He'd never know where all of them were. His degradation was a matter of public record and there was nothing he could do about it.
"Rus'," Danny said, soft and troubled and pained.
He managed to smile, and then he saw Saul coming towards them. He should...he should...he couldn't. "Gotta go talk to Linus," he said abruptly, and he vanished as quickly as possible.
Linus was feeling strangely warm inside. Seemed like everyone had been worried about him. And he didn't want to make them worry, but it was gratifying that they had. He felt accepted.
He was standing just a little way apart, listening to Basher tell an inexplicable joke. Something about Liverpool soccer fans and bikes. Judging by the frown on Reuben's face, he wasn't the only one who was completely baffled.
He was surprised and a little apprehensive when Rusty edged up to him. "You mind if we talk?" Rusty asked quietly, and he nodded and they moved further away, where no one could hear.
"You're really okay?" Rusty asked, staring at Linus' hand.
"Yes," Linus assured him quietly, and he hesitated, staring at the bruises on Rusty's face, on his neck. "Are...are you?"
Rusty rubbed absently at his throat. "Yeah. It's nothing" He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Linus."
"Why?" he asked stupidly.
"It was my fault," Rusty told him quietly. "If I hadn't insisted that we stay to look, Carson would never have caught us. You even told me that we should leave and I didn't listen. I'm so sorry."
He didn't know exactly what to say. "No...I mean, yes, but..." He bit his lip. "It wasn't your fault. I don't blame you."
He didn't have to try to sound sincere but Rusty didn't seem to be hearing him. "And you had to come back for me."
Linus remembered seeing Carson straddling Rusty. Remembered seeing his hands. Remembered the blank, dead look on Rusty's face. "I had to," he agreed. "You'd have done the same thing. And I only got away because of you, anyway. If it'd been up to me, we'd have ended up in that car with Carson and who knows where we'd be right now?" He shuddered slightly at the very thought. It had been close. It had been too close. "I should be thanking you." He thought about that a little more. "I am thanking you."
Rusty looked at him with a mixture of amusement and confusion. "I'm still sorry."
"Really, it's okay, Rusty," he said, meaning it. He had to make Rusty see that. "It's - "
There was the noise of the door opening and Reuben led Dad inside. He was looking round the room urgently, and there was absolutely no doubt who he was looking for. Linus sighed, relief releasing a tension that he didn't even know he'd been feeling.
Rusty smiled at him and patted him on the arm as Dad headed towards them. "I'll see you later."
He had to walk by Bobby. And in a very real way, he didn't want to. Just because Linus didn't blame him didn't mean that Bobby wouldn't. It was easier to forgive someone for hurting you than for hurting the people you loved. He knew that.
But when he drew level with Bobby, the look that came his way was all anxious concern and friendly worry. No blame. No recriminations. No anger.
He swallowed hard and smiled reassuringly and hurried back to Danny.
Danny stood leaning against the wall, holding a bottle of beer, more for something to do with his hands than anything else. From where he was standing he could see Rusty and Linus. And that was the main thing. He sure as hell wasn't letting Rusty out of his sight anytime soon.
Saul walked up and stood next to him. "Daniel," he said, and Danny wondered how he could put so much meaning into Danny's name. It was concern and love and rebuke and understanding, all at once.
"Seemed like I had to," he said and it almost sounded like an apology. But it wasn't.
Saul nodded, his eyes dark and far away, and after all, he'd seen the same things Danny had.
Which was the point. Because even if Rusty was able to act like he didn't care – and Danny found it easier to believe it was a lie than to believe the grey, dead acceptance was real – it still mattered to Danny. The urge to protect was still paramount. "Saul, the file, I - "
" - it's gone," Saul said, and for a moment his face was twisted with grief and memory. "I burnt it. No one will ever see it."
He closed his eyes. "Good," he said.
There was a pause. "You shouldn't have gone after Carson," Saul said presently "But when I think of those animals..." He took a deep breath. "I wish I knew who."
The list was heavy in Danny's pocket. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Me too."
He watched Rusty for a while, talking to Linus, and he could see the unconscious, fear-driven hyper-awareness. Rusty was never relaxed now. Rusty never felt safe now.
His thumb brushed against paper. Against names. Some day.
Linus let Dad lead him off to a small sitting room in silence. He sat on the piano stool and watched Dad pace and he'd never seen Dad look this agitated.
"I'm okay, Dad, really," he said quietly.
Dad nodded jerkily and walked over to him, took his injured hand – gently, very, very gently – staring at it intently. After a moment he reached up and ran his thumb over Linus' cheek. "Oh, Linus," he whispered, and his voice was shaken.
He didn't know what to say. He patted Dad's hand awkwardly. "I'm okay," he said again, and Dad suddenly hugged him close and it was almost frightening to realise how scared Dad had been. To think that Dad had thought he was going to lose him.
After a moment, Dad took a step back and cleared his throat. "What happened?" he asked. "Tell me everything."
Linus stumbled through the story from the moment Carson had caught them in his office. Through most of the story, anyway. He skipped over all mentions of the file. And what Carson had said about Rusty hurting himself, and everything Carson had said about prison. Dad frowned a little but didn't push him on the details.
When he'd finished, Dad hugged him tightly again. "I'm proud of you, son," he said thickly and Linus struggled to get control of the lump in his throat. "I'm so proud of you," Dad said again. "And if this ever happens again, you're grounded for a year."
Linus laughed in spite of himself and he was almost sure that Dad wasn't serious.
"Now," Dad went on, standing up straight. "Tell me how you dealt with Benedict?"
He smiled eagerly and launched into an account of Sheldon Willis.
Livingston looked round the non-party, slightly drunk and slightly inclined towards smiling.
The bad guys were defeated. The good guys won. They had just stolen eighty-eight million, two hundred and seventy-four thousand three hundred and twenty-nine dollars. Rusty was grinning at something Danny had just said and Danny was smiling back at him.
He watched them circulate. Being cool and convivial and amusing and attentive. Constantly looking at each other. Constantly talking in ways that no one else would ever understand. Being DannyandRusty.
He smiled to see it, sipping at his wine, and neatly stepped backwards, avoiding Yen trying to teach Virgil to do handstands and nearly bumping into Bobby.
Linus was safe and Bobby was breathing easily for the first time in hours.
That had to be the fastest handover of responsibility that the FBI had ever seen. He'd washed his hands of Carson as soon as possible and he'd made the reports on this total clusterfuck in record time.
He glanced round the room. Seemed everyone was paying attention. Good.
"The suits have the evidence. Real and fake. And they have Carson. The story is holding up. When I left, Terry Benedict was demanding that we throw the book at him."
"What's Carson saying?" Basher asked sharply.
He grimaced. "Nothing. He's being very quiet and waiting for his lawyer. I think he's holding out for a plea bargain." He recognised the symptoms.
"But they won't let him go, right? I mean, he's going to prison." Livingston sounded anxious and Bobby found himself looking past to where Danny and Rusty were standing. They looked pale at the thought.
"No," he assured them quickly. "There's too much evidence. He'll get ten years at least."
"Hope it's hell for him," Frank muttered viciously.
Bobby didn't bother agreeing out loud.
"It won't be," Rusty pointed out quietly. "FBI agent sent to prison – he'll be in protective custody the whole time. Odds on, he'll go through life without ever seeing another con."
That was what Bobby figured. But it hurt to see the look on Danny's face when Rusty said it.
"He's gone," Saul said quietly, looking at Rusty. "That's what matters."
"Right!" Turk agreed. "Eat, drink and be merry and all that."
Bobby shrugged and accepted the bottle of beer that was pushed his way.
They were on their own when Bobby approached them. Danny had been watching Rusty carefully, and at some point the party had got too much and Danny had led him away. Not that he was complaining. He just needed a break. They'd headed to the kitchen. No one would find that surprising.
Bobby walked in after a few moments and found them leaning against the counter, comfortable and saying nothing.
"Guys," he nodded.
Danny smiled, lazy and confident and absolutely-nothing-wrong. "Hi, Bobby."
"Hey, Bobby," Rusty echoed a fraction of a second later.
"Listen, have you still got that gun?" Bobby asked with a frown. "At some point I'm going to need to give it back to Andy."
Rusty blinked. Huh. He hadn't actually stopped to think about where the gun had come from. "Oh, yeah, here," he said, reaching into his pocket and carefully handing it over.
He could feel Danny staring at him. Was aware of the suddenly shocked and frozen.
"I guess it slipped my mind," he explained, as Bobby checked it, unloaded it and put it in his coat.
Danny was still staring. And the fleeting moment of desperate, miserable suspicion was painful.
He swallowed hard. "I promised," he whispered fiercely, in a tone too low for Bobby to hear.
Danny's eyes apologised.
And that was okay. Some things took time.
"You going to be alright?" Bobby asked them with heavy-handed casualness.
As one they turned to face him. "Of course," they chorused in perfect unison.
Saul knew that Rusty was avoiding him. And as much as that hurt, he did understand. Danny would have told Rusty that Saul had seen the file. And he remembered Rusty lying to him. Remembered the shame that Rusty had felt when everyone had known that Carson had been hurting him. Saul having seen the evidence of the vicious and the unforgivable must be so much worse. It hurt to see Rusty so twisted up inside.
He didn't want to push and he didn't want to pry. But he couldn't let it go. Couldn't risk Rusty believing even for a moment that the knowledge of what Rusty had been through, or the fact that he'd lied, made any difference to how Saul felt about him.
It was a relief, therefore, when Rusty walked up to him. "We should talk," he said, but he didn't look at Saul and he didn't meet his eyes. With a heavy heart, Saul followed Rusty through to the next room, hurting inside at the nervousness and the tension and the way that Rusty was staring at the floor, like he'd done something wrong.
The door closed behind them. There was silence. Saul waited patiently, hoping that he was doing the right thing.
Eventually, after a very long time, Rusty looked up.
Saul smiled at him.
Smiled at him like nothing was wrong, like the pictures of Rusty, naked and brutalised were nowhere in his mind. Smiled at him like it was any other day. Smiled at him like all he was thinking about was how very proud Rusty made him, how very much he loved him. Smiled at him like seeing Rusty made him happy. As it did. As it always did.
Rusty blinked furiously and chewed at his lip. "Saul, I - " he began, and Saul could see the apologies that would follow, the explanation and excuse, the mitigation and all the assurances that it wasn't that bad, that Saul shouldn't worry.
He sighed and shook his head and gently reached out and ran a hand through Rusty's hair.
Rusty didn't flinch. But Saul could feel the tension. The effort not to tremble.
Instantly he pulled his hand back in automatic apology and, without a word, Rusty grabbed his hand and then stepped closer, into Saul's arms.
He held his son close until the last of the silent, shaking sobs had died away.
With an irrational feeling of unease, Danny watched Rusty disappear with Saul. It was going to be a while before he felt comfortable letting Rusty out of his sight. And he had a feeling that in this case 'a while' meant 'the rest of their life'.
Still. Rusty was with Saul. Danny shouldn't be worried. Yeah. That just wasn't happening.
He took a resolute sip of his drink and went to find Linus.
Took a couple of minutes before he was able to get the kid on his own. He smiled. "Hey, Linus. Can I talk to you for a minute?"
Linus didn't look especially surprised. A little apprehensive, maybe, but not surprised. "Uh, sure, Danny." They walked away a little. Just to the edge of the patio doors. "Are you okay?" Linus asked in a hushed voice, and Danny was pretty sure that was meant to be his line. Still. He guessed Linus had seen him...almost at his worst. It was a valid question.
"I'm fine," he said reassuring and apologetic all at the same time. "How's the hand?"
"Kind of sore," Linus admitted. Danny nodded and felt a stab of guilt.
He took a deep breath. "Linus, I'm so sorry. With Carson, I should never have...I never meant to - "
Linus interrupted before he could spell it out. " - I'm okay, Danny. And I understand, really I do. Well, a little bit at least. You weren't yourself, I get that. I know that normally, you'd never."
"I'd never," he agreed emphatically. "But I did, and I could have gotten you killed."
"But you didn't."
Linus was staring at him fiercely and there was less hero worship in the gaze than Danny was used to. More understanding. More friendship. He felt himself smiling. He felt himself forgiven.
He nodded slowly. "What are you going to do now?" he asked quietly, hoping that Linus had some plans, that there was going to be less to feel guilty about.
Linus smiled at him knowingly. "Well, I got a few ideas. Remember when we were in Denver the other month? And there was that museum that we looked at?"
"Uh huh," Danny nodded, frowning slightly. It had looked doable, but the take wasn't worth it.
"They're having a special exhibition come by," Linus went on. "Egyptian jewellery. I want to give it a shot." He looked a little uncertain and a little apologetic. "I already asked Livingston. And Turk and Virgil. They're in."
The smile grew a little. "Sounds good," he approved. Linus getting ahead in life. He liked that.
Linus sighed slightly. "I need to go home first," he added. "Dad said Mom wants to see me. Think he's feeling a little protective."
"Uh huh," Danny nodded carefully. He imagined that Linus might find it just a little difficult to escape from his more-than-slightly freaked out parents. At least for a couple of weeks.
"But we'll work together again, right?" Linus asked him anxiously. "I mean when you're...when Rusty's..." He flushed slightly and gave up quickly. "Later, I'll get to work with both of you again?"
"Oh, you can count on it," Danny told him levelly and Linus blushed for a different reason.
"Hey! You're not drinking!" Turk crowed, stumbling up and pressing a bottle into Linus' hand. Virgil came trailing after him, arguing with Yen, and before Danny could blink, they were surrounded by everyone.
He reached out and pulled the bottle out of Linus' hands. "Not with painkillers," he said firmly.
Linus blinked up at him. "One drink can't hurt," he said, and his eyes were wide and his bottom lip was trembling ever so slightly. It was a masterly performance.
Danny smiled. "I'm immune," he pointed out smugly. He'd had a lot of practice after all. Reuben snorted disbelievingly in the background.
"Fine," Linus sighed. He frowned up at Danny. "What are your plans, anyway? Where are you going?"
Danny looked over at Rusty, standing on the edge of the crowd, Saul's hand resting gently on his shoulder. "Nowhere in particular," he said with a smile.
Rusty smiled back. "Nowhere in particular. I always wanted to go there."
Last two lines are quotes from 'Blazing Saddles'. Just to acknowledge.
And this really is the end! Well. Sort of. There is going to be a sequel set during O12. And there already is the first chapter of a continuation. 'Steps, Forwards and Back' Rated 'M' for reasons so you might need to check my profile to find it. It's not a sequel, more of an extended epilogue. And yes, it's rated 'M'. Despite the fact that the original fic wasn't. This is new and puzzling. Anyway, it focuses very, very nearly exclusively on Danny and Rusty and will cover the time between 'Falling like dominoes' and the yet to be named, written, or indeed started, sequel.
And finally finally, if you've read this fic and enjoyed it - or not - I really would appreciate you taking a moment to tell me about it. Thank you.