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dragontattTitle: They Don't Dance Like Carmen No More
Rating: R-ish, for a few words
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I swear!
Pairing: Danny & Martin of course
Notes: Title comes from a Jimmy Buffet song from 1990
Summary: Danny dresses up
Spoilers: None really, but before season 3 finale
This was inspired by my other fic, but is not a sequel.
Everyone wanted Danny in drag, so here goes.
They Don’t Dance Like Carmen No More
The whole building was abuzz about something when Martin arrived at work. He overheard a few people who seemed to be talking about him, or Danny, or the both of them together. What the hell? As he stepped off the elevators, leaving a couple of whispering secretaries behind, he figured he’d better ask Danny what was up. After all, Danny always could figure things out quicker than Martin. That was one of the things Martin liked about Danny. Some of the others things he liked included Danny’s beautiful eyes, his fine ass, his sexy voice and the way he smelled...better get it together Fitz.
But when he walked into the office, he suddenly felt he might be better off not knowing what was up. Danny, Jack and Sam were all huddled together pointing at something on Danny’s desk. And Martin’s desk was completely covered by huge mounds of....
“Danny, is that ...plastic fruit?”
“Yeah, hope you don’t mind, I needed more room.” He turned back to Jack who was asking something about seam allowances. Huh?
Martin decided retreat would be a wise move, so he crossed over to where Viv was lounging by the coffee pot. She was watching the strange goings-on with a wry smile. He poured himself a cup and took the plunge. “Viv, what’s going on over there?”
“Well, Danny’s marching in the Gay Pride Parade this weekend, and he’s convinced Jack and Sam to help make his costume.” She watched Martin carefully as she said this.
Martin coughed and almost sent coffee out his nose as he heard Viv’s statement. “What!!?”
“Yeah, he’s gonna be part of the Dancing Mirandas, you know, that group of gay law enforcement people, you get it- mirandas! This year there’s about 30 gay FBI, NYPD, SWAT, FDNY and I think even a couple CIA guys, except Danny said they never ever come to the meetings, who are all gonna dress up like Carmen Miranda.”
Across the room, Danny had pulled out several yards of a purple and green tropical looking fabric, with huge flowers on it, and was draping it across his shoulders, pointing out how well the colors went with his skin. Martin swallowed against his suddenly dry mouth and turned back to Viv. “But Danny’s not gay.”
“Of course he is Martin, it’s so obvious. Anyway the whole group is gonna mambo down the street, right behind a group of leather lovin’ daddies. Should be quite a time. Danny’s hoping to get lots of phone numbers from the whole thing.”
“What?” Martin looked back to where Jack suddenly had a mouthful of pins, and was helping form the material into a skirt with a slit up the side. “And since when can Jack sew for Christ’s sake?”
“Ya know, I asked him that myself, but he just said if he told me, then he’d have to kill me.” She rolled her eyes in that patented Jack-is-so-my-bitch-but-I’ll-let-him-pretend-to-be-in-charge-today way she had.
“What about the phone numbers again, Danny’s doing this to get a date for heaven’s sake?”
“He said he’s lonely, I guess he’s tired of waiting for you to catch a clue Fitzgerald.” With that Viv stalked off, leaving Martin alone with his thoughts. After a minute or two, he whipped out his cell, and dialed a number from memory. “Hey it’s me, you know that thing you wanted, well I’ll do it. Yeah, uh-huh. You’re welcome, bye.” Then he took a deep breath and went over to see how the costume was coming along.
“So, Carmen Miranda huh? Makes sense.”
Danny flashed a quick smile at Martin, and said “Well I can do a mean mambo. All that natural Latin grace and rhythm” He twirled around alluringly, the fabric pinned around his waist flying out with the breeze.
“Hold still goddamit,” said Jack around the pins still held in his mouth. “If you screw up my hem line I’ll shoot you.”
“Martin, you mind helping Sam with my hat?” Danny pointed to the huge pile of plastic fruit. Sam had a tan cowboy hat in her hand and was hot-gluing bananas, grapes and apples on with a vengeance. “There’s a prize for the biggest hat, and I wanna win. Real fruit would be too heavy and using that hat as a base I can carry more fruit. See, I have a strategy.” Amazingly Danny said this all with a straight face.
So Martin and Sam spent an hour making a huge hat, tooth-picking the larger pieces together. The middle was stuffed with crumpled newspaper so it wouldn’t collapse and the whole thing was covered with a layer of clear hot-glue to keep it all together. The very top held a whole pineapple surrounded by strategically placed bananas and plums. It looked …tasty, but of course Martin was always hungry.
When Martin came back from washing the hot glue off his eyebrows- how the hell Sam had managed to drop the glue gun on his head he’ll never know- Danny was standing there in costume. He’d taken off his suit at some point, and the ruffled skirt came down to mid-calf while the slit- Oh my god- came up to mid thigh. Somehow Jack had managed to twist the remaining fabric into a bandeau top, and Martin thought he might hyperventilate at the site of Danny’s golden skin exposed in the office. It seemed obscene somehow, and he wanted throw Danny over his shoulder and carry him off to ravish him in private. Hell, he’d wanted to do that for years, but the knowledge that Danny was straight had stopped him.
But apparently, he was being even more clueless than usual about Danny and the whole gay-or-straight thing so he walked over to Danny, who was having trouble with his outrageously high platform shoes and said,” Need some help?”
Danny raised his eyebrows and smirked at that, but gestured for Martin to go ahead. So he kneeled, and restraining himself from running his hands up Danny’s smooth- shaved? - legs he worked on buckling the straps. “So, you know, I had absolutely no idea you were gay, right?”
He refused to look at Danny who said,” Right Martin, even you aren’t that clueless. I practically held a big sign over my head that said “Yo Fitz I’m gay.””
Martin chuckled and then replied,” Did you know my nickname in high school was ‘Clueless Jerry?’”
“Why?”
“It’s a long story from boarding school involving my roommate, a case of hand lotion and why he needed to wash his socks all the time, but that’s not important now. The thing is, I really can be that clueless, at least about stuff not related to a case. And I truly had no idea you’re gay.”
Danny looked down at him for a moment, his face questioning, then opened his mouth to reply but just then Viv came hurrying back in. “OK folks, playtime’s over, we’ve got a case.”
Oh crap. Martin flashed a regretful smile at Danny who grinned and said “Well I guess I need to change.” He turned away with a flounce and his ruffle smacked Martin in the face, affording him a glimpse of upper thigh. Oh geez. Danny’s laughter trailed behind him down the hall.
The next two days were busy, so busy he had no time to talk with Danny about anything, thanks to Jack partnering him with Sam the whole case. Must be Jack’s way of getting back at him for calling him a seamstress by mistake. Who knew the Special Forces had a Secret Needle Worker Unit? Fortunately the case ended well, turns out the missing 14 year old girl was just hiding under her front porch in a snit cause her mom wouldn’t let her get her eyebrow pierced. Even Danny, who took all the missing kid cases too deeply to heart, was a little annoyed cause the brat had the nerve to sneak in the house for food in the middle of the night and then would go back under the porch where she’d rigged an electrical cord so she could read fan fiction on her laptop all day while pretending to be missing.
Anyway, the next day dawned bright and beautiful and Danny was psyched. His costume was expertly made and fit like a dream, his clandestine surveillance of others Mirandas had assured him his hat would easily win the trophy and there would be leather-clad asses marching right in front of him all day. True, none of them would be Fitzie’s, but Danny did love leather anyway. Even his shoes rocked, making his legs look even sexier than usual. He was sure to get lots of ...interesting offers.
Two hours later, Danny was cursing both his frickin’ shoes, which made his feet hurt and his stupid hat, which was threatening to give him whiplash. True, he had won the trophy for tallest hat, but it was a cheap plastic trophy which he’d ditched by giving it to an aging queen by the side of the road during the first few minutes of the parade after he realized he needed both hands to hold his hat up most of the time.
At least he’d gotten several phone numbers, one of which he’d actually kept after the guy walked off. And the dancing was going well, as long as he ignored his aching feet. And he could do that by concentrating on the leather lovin’ daddies in front of him. A few of them were too chubby to be drool-worthy, but most of them looked very fine, at least from the back. And one of them, directly in Danny’s line of sight, had a rear on par with Martin’s. Chill Taylor, Fitz had his chance, clueless or not, so stop thinking about his ass right now. Just stare at that fine one up ahead, that’ll help you get through this fiasco.
The Dancing Mirandas did a series of graceful twirls, thankfully with raised arms (so he could still hold his hat up) and Danny momentarily lost sight of Mr. So-Fine-In-Leather. When he stopped twirling, he was a little dizzy, due to his giant hat and enormous platform shoes and he stumbled to the side, knocking over two other Mirandas who were sensibly wearing much smaller, easier-to-manage hats and was only saved from falling right on his face in the gutter by a strong leather-clad arm which grabbed him from behind.
The unknown man pulled Danny upright, pressing his chest against Danny’s back in the process. Just as Danny was about to pull away, after all Danny wasn’t that easy no matter how lonely he was, a familiar voice whispered in his ear “Hey what about that natural Latin grace and rhythm?”
“Martin?” Danny was sure he was hearing things, and pulled away rather violently. The crowd, who’d been watching them avidly, booed, apparently mad at Danny’s actions towards his rescuer. He turned, and sure enough it was Martin, who also turned out to be Mr. So-Fine-In-Leather. Danny’s jaw dropped at the sight before him. Martin, in skin tight black leather pants and a leather jacket over a black lace shirt that did obscene things to Martin’s pecs. The kind of things that Danny’d always wanted to do.
They stood there staring at each other as the rest of the Mirandas mamboed away. Finally Danny said “Why didn’t you tell me Martin?”
“At first, you know, it was fear of rejection, cause as we both know I am clueless. Then after the other day I just never had the time, so I decided to surprise you. Cause if you can be proud I guess I can too.” Martin grinned sheepishly, then plunged ahead,” You know if we keep walking a few more blocks, then turn right, and, ya know, go a few more blocks, we’ll be at my apartment. “
Danny felt the urge to grin but quickly suppressed it and said “Well you know I don’t deal with surprises well Fitz. Plus a few blocks and a few blocks more is like way more blocks than I ever wanted to walk in these shoes. So I’m not sure I can make it to your apartment.” He ignored the hurt look that appeared on Martin’s face, because darn it, he’d had enough of his own because of Fitzie over the years.
Up in distance he could still see the Mirandas, and he started moving again, unconsciously joining in the choreography. The crowd must have picked up on Martin’s disappointment because they started yelling at Danny to be nice. But Martin just waved his hands at the people around them in an effort to get them to calm down. “It’s ok everybody.”
He ran a few paces to catch up with Danny, and said again “It’s ok, it’s not a problem.”
Danny just twirled like he didn’t even hear him, ignoring the boos around them. Dammit Fitzie, couldn’t you at least try and fight for me? His heart was breaking and still he danced on.
One more twirl however, and he spun around right in front of Martin, who grabbed his arm and flung him over his shoulder. “See, it’s not a problem, this way you don’t even have to walk.”
Around them the crowd erupted into cheers, and Danny’s huge hat bobbed around stupidly and he felt himself blushing. Dammit I don’t blush, that’s Martin job. So even though being carried off over Martin’s shoulder had comprised roughly 87% of all his fantasies over the last three years, he started to struggle, wiggling around so much his hat threatened to pull out all his hair. (It took approximately 400 long bobby pins to secure the damn thing anyway.)
Martin, to his credit, did the only thing that would have calmed Danny down. He gave him an unexpected, stinging swat right on his ass, which happened to be right next to Martin’s face. “Stop wiggling, do you want to fall?”
The crowd cheered again, and Danny’s insides gave a little twist, and he thought about all of the things he and Martin could do at Martin’s apartment, at least once he got this damn hat off. They all sounded wonderful, so he quit wiggling, moved his arms so they could support his hat for the rest of the trip and said softly “No.”
“Good choice, so hang on.” Martin walked quickly, his long legs eating up the pavement. They did get several unexpected cheers from the crowd by the time they reached the turn to Martin’s apartment. He paused and, without setting Danny down, asked whether he wanted to continue on the parade route or take the turn. Danny smiled to himself, and reached into his top, pulling out the one phone number he’d kept and dropping it onto the street to join the other bits of confetti already there.
“Well you know what they say Martin, never go straight.” He paused.
“Go forward.” Martin finished for him. “Sounds like a good plan to me.” And he shifted Danny to a more comfortable place on his shoulder, then turned down the street to his apartment.
“Gaily forward,” giggled Danny and settled more comfortably against Martin’s back for the ride home.
The End
Rating: R-ish, for a few words
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I swear!
Pairing: Danny & Martin of course
Notes: Title comes from a Jimmy Buffet song from 1990
Summary: Danny dresses up
Spoilers: None really, but before season 3 finale
This was inspired by my other fic, but is not a sequel.
Everyone wanted Danny in drag, so here goes.
They Don’t Dance Like Carmen No More
The whole building was abuzz about something when Martin arrived at work. He overheard a few people who seemed to be talking about him, or Danny, or the both of them together. What the hell? As he stepped off the elevators, leaving a couple of whispering secretaries behind, he figured he’d better ask Danny what was up. After all, Danny always could figure things out quicker than Martin. That was one of the things Martin liked about Danny. Some of the others things he liked included Danny’s beautiful eyes, his fine ass, his sexy voice and the way he smelled...better get it together Fitz.
But when he walked into the office, he suddenly felt he might be better off not knowing what was up. Danny, Jack and Sam were all huddled together pointing at something on Danny’s desk. And Martin’s desk was completely covered by huge mounds of....
“Danny, is that ...plastic fruit?”
“Yeah, hope you don’t mind, I needed more room.” He turned back to Jack who was asking something about seam allowances. Huh?
Martin decided retreat would be a wise move, so he crossed over to where Viv was lounging by the coffee pot. She was watching the strange goings-on with a wry smile. He poured himself a cup and took the plunge. “Viv, what’s going on over there?”
“Well, Danny’s marching in the Gay Pride Parade this weekend, and he’s convinced Jack and Sam to help make his costume.” She watched Martin carefully as she said this.
Martin coughed and almost sent coffee out his nose as he heard Viv’s statement. “What!!?”
“Yeah, he’s gonna be part of the Dancing Mirandas, you know, that group of gay law enforcement people, you get it- mirandas! This year there’s about 30 gay FBI, NYPD, SWAT, FDNY and I think even a couple CIA guys, except Danny said they never ever come to the meetings, who are all gonna dress up like Carmen Miranda.”
Across the room, Danny had pulled out several yards of a purple and green tropical looking fabric, with huge flowers on it, and was draping it across his shoulders, pointing out how well the colors went with his skin. Martin swallowed against his suddenly dry mouth and turned back to Viv. “But Danny’s not gay.”
“Of course he is Martin, it’s so obvious. Anyway the whole group is gonna mambo down the street, right behind a group of leather lovin’ daddies. Should be quite a time. Danny’s hoping to get lots of phone numbers from the whole thing.”
“What?” Martin looked back to where Jack suddenly had a mouthful of pins, and was helping form the material into a skirt with a slit up the side. “And since when can Jack sew for Christ’s sake?”
“Ya know, I asked him that myself, but he just said if he told me, then he’d have to kill me.” She rolled her eyes in that patented Jack-is-so-my-bitch-but-I’ll-let-him-pretend-to-be-in-charge-today way she had.
“What about the phone numbers again, Danny’s doing this to get a date for heaven’s sake?”
“He said he’s lonely, I guess he’s tired of waiting for you to catch a clue Fitzgerald.” With that Viv stalked off, leaving Martin alone with his thoughts. After a minute or two, he whipped out his cell, and dialed a number from memory. “Hey it’s me, you know that thing you wanted, well I’ll do it. Yeah, uh-huh. You’re welcome, bye.” Then he took a deep breath and went over to see how the costume was coming along.
“So, Carmen Miranda huh? Makes sense.”
Danny flashed a quick smile at Martin, and said “Well I can do a mean mambo. All that natural Latin grace and rhythm” He twirled around alluringly, the fabric pinned around his waist flying out with the breeze.
“Hold still goddamit,” said Jack around the pins still held in his mouth. “If you screw up my hem line I’ll shoot you.”
“Martin, you mind helping Sam with my hat?” Danny pointed to the huge pile of plastic fruit. Sam had a tan cowboy hat in her hand and was hot-gluing bananas, grapes and apples on with a vengeance. “There’s a prize for the biggest hat, and I wanna win. Real fruit would be too heavy and using that hat as a base I can carry more fruit. See, I have a strategy.” Amazingly Danny said this all with a straight face.
So Martin and Sam spent an hour making a huge hat, tooth-picking the larger pieces together. The middle was stuffed with crumpled newspaper so it wouldn’t collapse and the whole thing was covered with a layer of clear hot-glue to keep it all together. The very top held a whole pineapple surrounded by strategically placed bananas and plums. It looked …tasty, but of course Martin was always hungry.
When Martin came back from washing the hot glue off his eyebrows- how the hell Sam had managed to drop the glue gun on his head he’ll never know- Danny was standing there in costume. He’d taken off his suit at some point, and the ruffled skirt came down to mid-calf while the slit- Oh my god- came up to mid thigh. Somehow Jack had managed to twist the remaining fabric into a bandeau top, and Martin thought he might hyperventilate at the site of Danny’s golden skin exposed in the office. It seemed obscene somehow, and he wanted throw Danny over his shoulder and carry him off to ravish him in private. Hell, he’d wanted to do that for years, but the knowledge that Danny was straight had stopped him.
But apparently, he was being even more clueless than usual about Danny and the whole gay-or-straight thing so he walked over to Danny, who was having trouble with his outrageously high platform shoes and said,” Need some help?”
Danny raised his eyebrows and smirked at that, but gestured for Martin to go ahead. So he kneeled, and restraining himself from running his hands up Danny’s smooth- shaved? - legs he worked on buckling the straps. “So, you know, I had absolutely no idea you were gay, right?”
He refused to look at Danny who said,” Right Martin, even you aren’t that clueless. I practically held a big sign over my head that said “Yo Fitz I’m gay.””
Martin chuckled and then replied,” Did you know my nickname in high school was ‘Clueless Jerry?’”
“Why?”
“It’s a long story from boarding school involving my roommate, a case of hand lotion and why he needed to wash his socks all the time, but that’s not important now. The thing is, I really can be that clueless, at least about stuff not related to a case. And I truly had no idea you’re gay.”
Danny looked down at him for a moment, his face questioning, then opened his mouth to reply but just then Viv came hurrying back in. “OK folks, playtime’s over, we’ve got a case.”
Oh crap. Martin flashed a regretful smile at Danny who grinned and said “Well I guess I need to change.” He turned away with a flounce and his ruffle smacked Martin in the face, affording him a glimpse of upper thigh. Oh geez. Danny’s laughter trailed behind him down the hall.
The next two days were busy, so busy he had no time to talk with Danny about anything, thanks to Jack partnering him with Sam the whole case. Must be Jack’s way of getting back at him for calling him a seamstress by mistake. Who knew the Special Forces had a Secret Needle Worker Unit? Fortunately the case ended well, turns out the missing 14 year old girl was just hiding under her front porch in a snit cause her mom wouldn’t let her get her eyebrow pierced. Even Danny, who took all the missing kid cases too deeply to heart, was a little annoyed cause the brat had the nerve to sneak in the house for food in the middle of the night and then would go back under the porch where she’d rigged an electrical cord so she could read fan fiction on her laptop all day while pretending to be missing.
Anyway, the next day dawned bright and beautiful and Danny was psyched. His costume was expertly made and fit like a dream, his clandestine surveillance of others Mirandas had assured him his hat would easily win the trophy and there would be leather-clad asses marching right in front of him all day. True, none of them would be Fitzie’s, but Danny did love leather anyway. Even his shoes rocked, making his legs look even sexier than usual. He was sure to get lots of ...interesting offers.
Two hours later, Danny was cursing both his frickin’ shoes, which made his feet hurt and his stupid hat, which was threatening to give him whiplash. True, he had won the trophy for tallest hat, but it was a cheap plastic trophy which he’d ditched by giving it to an aging queen by the side of the road during the first few minutes of the parade after he realized he needed both hands to hold his hat up most of the time.
At least he’d gotten several phone numbers, one of which he’d actually kept after the guy walked off. And the dancing was going well, as long as he ignored his aching feet. And he could do that by concentrating on the leather lovin’ daddies in front of him. A few of them were too chubby to be drool-worthy, but most of them looked very fine, at least from the back. And one of them, directly in Danny’s line of sight, had a rear on par with Martin’s. Chill Taylor, Fitz had his chance, clueless or not, so stop thinking about his ass right now. Just stare at that fine one up ahead, that’ll help you get through this fiasco.
The Dancing Mirandas did a series of graceful twirls, thankfully with raised arms (so he could still hold his hat up) and Danny momentarily lost sight of Mr. So-Fine-In-Leather. When he stopped twirling, he was a little dizzy, due to his giant hat and enormous platform shoes and he stumbled to the side, knocking over two other Mirandas who were sensibly wearing much smaller, easier-to-manage hats and was only saved from falling right on his face in the gutter by a strong leather-clad arm which grabbed him from behind.
The unknown man pulled Danny upright, pressing his chest against Danny’s back in the process. Just as Danny was about to pull away, after all Danny wasn’t that easy no matter how lonely he was, a familiar voice whispered in his ear “Hey what about that natural Latin grace and rhythm?”
“Martin?” Danny was sure he was hearing things, and pulled away rather violently. The crowd, who’d been watching them avidly, booed, apparently mad at Danny’s actions towards his rescuer. He turned, and sure enough it was Martin, who also turned out to be Mr. So-Fine-In-Leather. Danny’s jaw dropped at the sight before him. Martin, in skin tight black leather pants and a leather jacket over a black lace shirt that did obscene things to Martin’s pecs. The kind of things that Danny’d always wanted to do.
They stood there staring at each other as the rest of the Mirandas mamboed away. Finally Danny said “Why didn’t you tell me Martin?”
“At first, you know, it was fear of rejection, cause as we both know I am clueless. Then after the other day I just never had the time, so I decided to surprise you. Cause if you can be proud I guess I can too.” Martin grinned sheepishly, then plunged ahead,” You know if we keep walking a few more blocks, then turn right, and, ya know, go a few more blocks, we’ll be at my apartment. “
Danny felt the urge to grin but quickly suppressed it and said “Well you know I don’t deal with surprises well Fitz. Plus a few blocks and a few blocks more is like way more blocks than I ever wanted to walk in these shoes. So I’m not sure I can make it to your apartment.” He ignored the hurt look that appeared on Martin’s face, because darn it, he’d had enough of his own because of Fitzie over the years.
Up in distance he could still see the Mirandas, and he started moving again, unconsciously joining in the choreography. The crowd must have picked up on Martin’s disappointment because they started yelling at Danny to be nice. But Martin just waved his hands at the people around them in an effort to get them to calm down. “It’s ok everybody.”
He ran a few paces to catch up with Danny, and said again “It’s ok, it’s not a problem.”
Danny just twirled like he didn’t even hear him, ignoring the boos around them. Dammit Fitzie, couldn’t you at least try and fight for me? His heart was breaking and still he danced on.
One more twirl however, and he spun around right in front of Martin, who grabbed his arm and flung him over his shoulder. “See, it’s not a problem, this way you don’t even have to walk.”
Around them the crowd erupted into cheers, and Danny’s huge hat bobbed around stupidly and he felt himself blushing. Dammit I don’t blush, that’s Martin job. So even though being carried off over Martin’s shoulder had comprised roughly 87% of all his fantasies over the last three years, he started to struggle, wiggling around so much his hat threatened to pull out all his hair. (It took approximately 400 long bobby pins to secure the damn thing anyway.)
Martin, to his credit, did the only thing that would have calmed Danny down. He gave him an unexpected, stinging swat right on his ass, which happened to be right next to Martin’s face. “Stop wiggling, do you want to fall?”
The crowd cheered again, and Danny’s insides gave a little twist, and he thought about all of the things he and Martin could do at Martin’s apartment, at least once he got this damn hat off. They all sounded wonderful, so he quit wiggling, moved his arms so they could support his hat for the rest of the trip and said softly “No.”
“Good choice, so hang on.” Martin walked quickly, his long legs eating up the pavement. They did get several unexpected cheers from the crowd by the time they reached the turn to Martin’s apartment. He paused and, without setting Danny down, asked whether he wanted to continue on the parade route or take the turn. Danny smiled to himself, and reached into his top, pulling out the one phone number he’d kept and dropping it onto the street to join the other bits of confetti already there.
“Well you know what they say Martin, never go straight.” He paused.
“Go forward.” Martin finished for him. “Sounds like a good plan to me.” And he shifted Danny to a more comfortable place on his shoulder, then turned down the street to his apartment.
“Gaily forward,” giggled Danny and settled more comfortably against Martin’s back for the ride home.
The End
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