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“You asked me once what the second most painful experience of my life was.” Nicholas says, during a lull in conversation at the pub.
It’s just him and Danny tonight. Doris has a date with a lad who looks about ten years too young for her, Sergeant Fisher is at home with his wife (Nicholas was rather surprised to learn he had one), PC Walker had to take Saxon to the vet and Andies are camping out in the woods. Where in the woods, they didn’t say, and Nicholas is a little concerned that he’s going to have to send a search party out for them come Monday.
“Oh yeah.” Danny crunches on a pork scratching. “You said you didn’t know. And then Andy called you a-”
“Yes.” Nicholas says before Danny can repeat whatever horrendous insult was hurled at him that day. Honestly, Nicholas has been insulted so many times in his life that he doesn’t remember most of them anymore. “That was true, I didn’t know. But I think I do now.”
“Was it tripping over the curb outside the shop and twisting your ankle the other day?” Danny asks.
“I- no, no it wasn’t that.” Nicholas flushes - that was very embarrassing and he would rather it not be brought up. The whole village knew about it in a matter of hours. “It was the explosion at the police station.”
“Oh, aye. Being blown up did hurt a lot. Almost as much as getting shot.” Danny goes to down the rest of his beer, sees the disapproving look on Nicholas’ face, and takes a big sip instead.
“Well, yes, but that’s not what I meant.” Nicholas picks at his fingernails. “When the explosion happened, and you got hurt… I couldn’t handle it. I felt like my world had ended. Seeing you lying under that heap of rubble with a gut full of buckshot and all the blood-”
“Hey.” Danny puts his hand on Nicholas’ as he starts to hyperventilate. “I’m alright now. I’ve got all my important bits still.”
“Yeah.” Nicholas takes a deep, steadying breath. “But, yes, that was probably the most painful thing that ever happened to me, making being stabbed in the hand the second worse. So, there you go.”
“This hand, wasn’t it?” Danny asks, picking up the hand that he’s holding.
“Yeah.” Nicholas flexes the hand, fingers twitching. It still isn’t right, aggravated by the stress of everything that has happened to him since he moved out to Stanford.
Danny presses a kiss to the palm, right over his scar. “There we go. All better.”
Nicholas blushes, turning his face away so Danny can’t see. “Thank you, Constable Butterman.”
“No problem, Nic.” Danny says.
Normally, Nicholas would correct him, it’s Nicholas actually, but this time he doesn’t. He finds he doesn’t mind when Danny calls him it. What can he say? Danny brings out the person in him.