A/N: My favorite bromance: Danny and Don
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters or ideas created by Anthony Zuiker, Carol Mendelsohn and Ann Donahue. I borrowed them for the entertainment and amusement of my audience.
SUMMARY: Don and Danny shoot some hoops.
DATE COMPLETED: March 17, 2011
Danny bounced the ball, holding his position on the court, his eyes focused on the figure in front of him. He stood still, the only movement coming from his hand as it caught the ball and slammed it down to the floor, an endless cycle of movement. His eyes flickered over his opponent, sizing him up, attempting to gauge his thoughts. Slap…slam…slap…slam. The ball continued its routine, carefully guided by Danny's hand. He almost laughed aloud at his predicament. His opponent was not faltering; he was giving no hint of his game plan and Danny was stubborn enough to stand his ground until he saw an opening. Slap…slam…slap…slam went the ball. Danny resisted the urge to wipe the sweat from his brow; several beads threatening to trail down his forehead and blind him in this crucial moment.
"Come on, grandpa," Don taunted. "My shift starts in an hour and I refuse to set foot outside of this building without a shower. If you don't make a move, I will."
Danny grinned across the four-foot gap between them; Don was getting desperate. "Don't get your jockstrap all in a bunch. This game will be over before you know it."
Finally, perhaps in an attempt to move the game along to a timely conclusion, Don lunged forward. Danny laughed as he easily sidestepped the lunge, ducked under Don's outstretched arm and rushed across the court to sink the ball into the net with an all too satisfying whooshing sound. Triumphantly he turned back to face Don only to have his victory stance deteriorate a bit. Don was standing exactly where Danny had left him, doubled over, hands on knees, but a giant grin on his face.
"You wuss! You practically gave that to me! What a hollow victory," he muttered the last, but just loud enough for Don to pick up on it.
"Hollow or not, at least you have bragging rights for the next week."
"You know I'm going to have to embellish the victory just a little bit, otherwise I'll be the laughingstock of the NYPD. I wouldn't want to ruin my rep, ya know?"
"Embellish however you want, but you better not make me look bad. My reputation is more important than yours."
It was now Danny's turn to lunge towards Don and Don, just barely seeing Danny coming for him, turned to negotiate himself into a better position. Both men joined together in a friendly wrestling bout which quickly turned in Don's favor as he locked Danny in a headlock, refusing to let go for no other reason than he had simply bested him so soon after his own defeat on the court.
At that precise moment, the door to the indoor court opened and Jimmy, a sergeant out of precinct 9, entered, followed by Bruce, a true-blue police cadet fresh out of the academy, and George and Frank, two officers working the streets out of precinct 15.
"That was a piss-poor end to a great one-on-one game you had going there, Flack. What little I saw of it, of course," Jimmy said. He grabbed his black sweatshirt and pulled it off, revealing a white ribbed muscle tank underneath. Jimmy was a die-hard weightlifter who enjoyed spending almost every spare moment at the NYPD gym. His years of dedication definitely paid off as the criminals he ran down and tossed into handcuffs rarely, if ever, put up a fight against him, intimidated by his body-building form.
Don released Danny and rolled his eyes as he picked up his own gym jacket off of the court floor. "Gerard would not have been happy with me if I rolled into the precinct late and blamed it on a little one-on-one. He'd eat me alive."
Jimmy grunted as he picked the forgotten ball up off of the floor. "Yeah, that is one guy you do not want to piss off." He dribbled it a bit before turning his attention to Danny. "What was that, Danny? Is all your time in the science lab slowing you down? I would have thought you could take Don any day of the week."
If the comment had come from anyone else, Danny probably would have felt the burn of an insult, but Jimmy was one of the most loyal cops Danny had ever come across and he knew that he was only making a joke at Danny's expense. A joke that just kind of slid off of his back and didn't leave any lasting marks. Danny sauntered over towards Jimmy, almost like he was just going to greet him with a customary handshake. Instead, he whipped the ball out of his grip, ducked around him and effortlessly tossed the ball towards the hoop where it dropped through the net.
Not even trying to hide the grin that overspread his features, he turned back to the group. "What were you saying, Jimmy?"
"What? You think a little quick-footwork there gets you off the hook?" Jimmy replied. "You gotta do better than that. Wrestling and hoops are two completely different things." He sprinted across the gym floor to scoop up the ball that had come to rest against the wall. "You up for another rousing round of hoops?"
Danny pretended to consider the offer, before shaking his head. "Like Don, I have to get to work." Bruce snickered in the background, and Danny had no doubt he knew what about. "But, if you want to go two-on-two next week, I'm sure Don and I would be happy to oblige you."
Don had been standing off to the side behind Bruce, but at the mention of his name he had stepped forward to clap the much shorter man on the shoulder. "It sounds like Bruce here is itching to take us on." The man in question had paled considerably. No doubt it was all fun and games when he wasn't directly involved, but now...
Don and Danny bid farewell to the newcomers, pointedly ignoring the amused expressions on George's and Frank's faces, and quickly departed the gym.
"You think he's got any idea what we set him up for?" Danny asked as they entered the locker room.
"Not a clue," Don replied, "but it's our job to haze these guys. Introduce them to the NYPD the right way."