Title: Casing the Joint
Author: Elizabeth Wilde
Summary: "Knew you'd notice eventually, partner."
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own the boys. Don't sue me. I'm just having fun here.
Distribution: Anyone already archiving my fic, my site at .net/wilde [as soon as the bar on posting it anywhere but slashfest lists, of course ;) ]
Author's Notes: Written for the Slashfest community on LiveJournal. The prompt was given by z_rayne: Darien/Bobby: Going undercover as a gay couple. NOTE: This story did not end up at all the way I originally planned. The boys had other plans, apparently… not that I mind. It was originally going to be longer and more involved. :shrug: Apparently my brain can no longer handle writing decent plots because it edited all the plot out as I typed. It may one day warrant a sequel. This is also my first Invisible Man fic (at least completed one), and I'm relatively pleased with it given how long it's been since I've seen more than a few stray eps of the series.
"It's a sick joke," Darien observed as he set the last box down and sprawled onto a rather comfortable white leather chair. "At least the place came furnished. No way was I hauling anything else in here."
"You pack like a girl, partner." Bobby looked at the collection of Darien's luggage still piled near the doorway awaiting the final leg of their journey into the bedroom. "I don't even think I wanna know what's in these things."
Darien rolled his eyes and followed Bobby's annoyed stare back over to his things. Deciding to take the hint before Hobbes started nagging, he hauled himself up from the chair with a heavy sigh and collected a couple of the bags. "It's not that bad, Hobbsey. It's just the usual - clothes, hair stuff, some books."
"And you brought, what, the Library of Congress?"
"Funny. Really funny. Just for that?" Darien called from their new shared bedroom, "Just for that, you are officially the bottom whenever anybody asks."
The gibe apparently didn't hit home with quite the ferocity Darien had hoped because Bobby's only response was, "You really think somebody's gonna buy that? I'm assuming these people you plan on telling, they can see you while you're talkin', right?"
Darien appeared in the doorway looking mildly hurt. "What? I'm butch!" He glanced down and noted the hair gel in his hand and immediately added, "There's nothing gay about wanting to look good. You should try it sometimes." Realizing belatedly that he'd been baited, Darien turned his attention back to unpacking. "So... so we're actually going?"
Bobby's expression registered intense concentration as he cast about for some clue as to what his partner meant. "Huh?"
"That... the thing tonight," Darien clarified with a vague wave of his hand. "The dance," he added when his second attempt failed as well.
"Oooohh. Well, sure. Guy's supposed to be there, and we need to know who he's in with. Gotta get a feel for this place, make sure they accept us, cement the cover. You know that." Bobby's tone was more amused than reproachful. "What? Can't dance, partner?"
Darien shot Bobby a glare. "I can dance. Just figured you couldn't, and I'm not interested in breaking any toes."
"Riiiight. Just be sure you wear somethin' pretty. I'd hate for people to think I married below my station."
Bobby was a damn good dancer, Darien had to admit. The shorter man moved with complete grace around the floor, and Darien found himself hard-pressed to keep up. "Okay, fine, so maybe you are a better dancer."
Obviously appreciating the gravity of the praise, Bobby grinned from ear to ear, effortlessly shifting his grip as a slower song came on. One hand moved to the small of Darien's back and brought him closer. "Knew you'd notice eventually, partner."
A look of mild confusion flickered across Darien's face, but he was unwilling to admit to the weakness. Instead he tried with mixed success to follow Bobby's steps across the floor. It never crossed his mind that they had yet to spend a moment actually casing their suspect. By the time the dance was over, Darien had fallen into a more natural rhythm as they found their step together. Darien realized belatedly that Bobby had spent the entire dance staring at him rather intently. What?"
"Just wonderin' where you stand on sleeping arrangements for tonight?" Bobby inquired a little too casually.
Brow furrowed slightly, Darien ventured, "Uh, guess we can share the bed. King-size. Lots of room."
"There sure is," Bobby answered in the same strangely neutral tone. "Did it ever strike you as a little odd that you weren't in on the meeting? That I gave you all the info on this little shindig?" At his partner's quizzical stare, Bobby pressed, "The Fat Man never said word one about this to ya, right?"
"Oh. No... I guess.. yeah, you grabbed me after lunch and just filled me in," Darien agreed as he finally caught up to Bobby's point. "What? You bring the wrong file photo or something?"
Bobby rolled his eyes as his frustration with the conversation mounted. "C'mon, try and work through this one with me. I figured you'd pick up quicker. This whole thing, partner, this whole set-up, it doesn't feel weird to you? Didn't seem like a thin story at all? Really?"
"I thought it was.. it.." Realizing the whole thing did sound a little on the shady side, Darien tried to take a step back and think it all through. "Bobby, are you telling me that you.. that this is all *you*?"
The smaller man shrugged and fixed Darien with a measured stare. "How much would ya mind if it was?" he inquired as one song flowed into the next around them.
Never breaking stride, Darien found himself smiling slowly. "Y'know, I'm starting to think I might not mind at all."