Summary: Sequel to Querido; Martin can't say no.

Warnings: Slash AND Het implications!!! Be warned, here they be women and thoughts of sex with women.

Pairings: Danny/Martin, Danny/Elena

Betaed for context and content by the wonderful wonderful wonderful Sheryl - any mistakes are mine. Unlike the characters, darn it.

Author's Note - for Smilla - it was for Halloween but as usual, I got distracted and didn't get it finished in time. I hope you're feeling better.

"You should come over, Martin," Elena said with a smile that seemed sincere. "Sofia and Danny are going to be trick-or-treating in the building - you can go with them or stay with me and give out candy."

Martin shook his head. "Thanks, but Halloween's not my thing," he smiled, trying to take the sting out of his words.

"Well, if you change your mind, we'd love to have you. I know Danny would!" She laughed as she said it, and he almost wondered if she knew how true her words were.

Danny had loved to have him. Several times now.

He shifted, uncomfortable. It was a relief when he saw Sam moving toward them, her face grim. She looked like that a lot lately.

"Hey," he called, moving to join her - and away from the conference table where Elena was sitting. "Anything yet?"

Sam looked at him as if he had sprouted another head, and he felt himself flush despite his best efforts.

"No," she said with a certain sharpness, "unless a headache and nausea count. You wanna help me with that?"

He frowned at her. "You okay? You've been queasy a lot lately - can't you shake this thing?"

She paled suddenly, her eyes wide as they met his, and without thinking, he caught her by the upper arm, afraid she was going to faint.

"Sam?" he asked, moving her toward a nearby empty chair, "you all right?"

"Yeah," she answered, but she allowed herself to be seated, looking pale and tired. "What were you in such a hurry to get away from?" she asked, looking up at him.

He felt himself blush, hating that, even now, he still didn't have control over himself. "Um, nothing, I just -"

"She ask you to come by tonight to help with Sofia's Halloween?" Sam was fanning herself with one hand, but her color seemed to be returning.

"Yeah," Martin answered. "She ask you, too?"

Sam chuckled. "She's asking almost all of us. Either she doesn't want to be alone with Danny, or she's hoping to have her own little costume party with him while conning one of us into taking Sofia trick-or-treating. Did you see the outfit she's planning to wear? That stripper role last year has left some bad ideas in her head. Or good, I guess, if you're Danny."

She smiled, and he tried to do the same, but it fell flat.

Not surprisingly, she noticed. "Martin, you're not . . . oh, please, tell me you're not hot for her too." Her tone had gone cold as well as snide, the combination drawing a conditioned response.

"No," he said, realizing too late that he was going to have to find a quick way out of this. "I just can't believe that Danny would."

"Yeah, it's pretty surprising," Sam agreed with a sigh. She sat back in the chair, rubbing her temples. "I guess everyone can change, if given the right motivation, huh."

It wasn't something he could argue with, not given the way his own life was at present. "Can I get you something - water or coffee or - "

"Thanks," she sighed, pushing herself back to her feet. "I'm all right. This thing will pass, or so they tell me." She smiled, but it wasn't pleasant. "So what are you going tonight?"

He shrugged, looking away. "Nothing special. You?"

She laughed, and he thought he heard an undercurrent of bitterness in it. "Nothing special either."

He looked at her, feeling a stir of concern. "Hey, you wanna do nothing special at my place? We could order in Chinese or something - "

"You'd like that, wouldn't you." The words, themselves, were hard, but the tone of voice wasn't sarcastic or angry. Sad, really, and with a sort of wonder. "You giving out candy, Martin?"

He frowned, even more confused, but shook his head. "I don't know enough of the people in my building - you know, these hours aren't good for meeting the neighbors. Last thing I need is for them to think I'm some sort of child molester or something."

She did laugh at that, sharing the black humor they both used to survive. "Thanks for asking, but I'm still feeling pretty rough. Maybe later in the week."

He knew it for what it was, a polite 'not interested'. She was a friend - she'd helped him through his detox, been there from time to time when he'd needed someone, but she didn't do well on the receiving end of concern. If something was wrong, which he still wasn't certain about, she'd have to hit the wall before she opened up to anyone.

And if she was true to her nature, that would be Jack. As it had been when her sister had gone missing, as it was every time something went wrong in her life.

As it had been the day he'd told her he couldn't keep fighting her fear of happiness.

He watched her walk away, wondering if that was when he'd made the first serious mistake that had put him on this road.

And as if reading his mind, Danny's voice called from behind him, "Martin!"

Martin swallowed, knowing that tone. It was the friendly tone, the 'I need a favor' tone.

The 'I need to fuck you' tone.

He could say 'no', he reminded himself. He would say 'no'. He was not spending Halloween helping Danny get laid by someone else. He wasn't.

+++

"Trick or treat!"

Despite himself, he smiled as Sofia and her two friends called to the woman standing in the apartment doorway, all three holding out their little plastic pumpkins to collect their candy loot. A princess, a cheerleader, and a fairy. Three perfect and beautiful little girls.

"They are so adorable, aren't they?" Lizanne - the mother of the cheerleader - giggled. Actually giggled. "I just love it when they decide to pick such normal costumes, you know what I mean - but of course you do - with your job, I bet you understand how much safer we would all be if everyone did as they should - . . . " She rambled on, unstopping, about the state of American society and how, if girls acted like girls should, and boys acted like boy should, then so many things would be better.

He didn't really mean to tune her out, but he found himself nodding and smiling and glancing at his watch. It had only been fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes.

He still had another half hour to go.

Danny had asked him for two hours. He'd negotiated down to forty-five minutes.

Of course, he hadn't known he was going to have three girls - and one mother. To be fair, he wasn't certain that Danny had known either; the other man had appeared to be as surprised as Martin when Elena had pranced out in her Charo outfit, high heels tapping on the floor, of course, accompanied by her 'very good friend' Lizanne, who, coincidentally, was a single mother like Elena, and who, coincidentally, wanted to walk around with the girls as well, especially in the company of the very single FBI agent who was such a good friend of Elena's.

Lizanne was dressed as a French maid, the little black skirt bouncing against her thighs as she walked. She was as adroit in her heels as Elena.

He wondered if Danny would give him points if he sent her back up to check on them and Danny got them both. At the same time.

Ten minutes later, he wondered if he could negotiate for another half-hour - as in, he would give Danny another half hour, with both of them, if he could get her to go away.

Danny won; it was just under two hours when Martin and Lizanne made it back to the apartment to find Danny and Elena standing in the doorway, their candy bowl half-full. Elena's hair was a bit mussed, Danny's was - well, how would Martin have known, he wondered, Danny had bed-head as a style.

But he knew the soft expression in the other man's eyes, the slackness along his features.

"We're going to order pizza for dinner - Martin, where are you going?" Elena's hands were on his shoulders, pulling him back into the main room of her apartment. "Lizanne, why don't get you get Martin a beer - "

"No no," Martin said at the same time Danny did. They caught each other's gaze, both embarrassed and amused by the secret they shared - that apparently Danny hadn't yet deigned to share with Elena.

Elena seemed to sense their collusion, because she frowned, her eyes looking from one to the other, until Martin blurted, "I've really got to be going, Elena. Thank you for the offer, but I've got things I need to get done tonight - Lizanne, it was nice to meet you."

"You don't really have to leave, do you?" the other woman whined, and Martin thought he couldn't get to the door fast enough.

The evening had edged into night, the little kids in cute costumes heading home to be replaced by older kids in sexy costumes. He tried to be amused as he moved along the sidewalk, his eyes caught by the various colors and glitter and extremes of the ensembles.

But Halloween had never been his favorite holiday. There had been a time when he loved it, dressing up, getting to be someone he wasn't. But by the time he was eight, his options had become more and more limited. Lizanne had sounded amazingly like his parents - 'Men do not wear tights, Martin, I don't care how often he saves the world', 'You most certainly are not going to be a pirate - real men do not wear earrings or have long hair', or 'If you want to be a cowboy, then you have to have a white hat - only bad guys wear black, Martin.'

By the time he was twelve, Halloween was a night he had to stay home and give out candy, or take his little sister trick-or-treating.

Later, it was yet another night that his parents placed curfews on him, making certain he was different from everyone else. A Fitzgerald.

He caught a cab, thinking for one of the few times as of late that it would be nice to be home in his apartment, alone.

And it was for awhile. He made himself dinner, nothing fancy and mostly vegetables; since the shooting, his diet had changed quite a bit. His body didn't work the way it used to, so fast foods and pizza were very limited these days. It made eating on the job an adventure as well.

He had finished cleaning up, turned on the television for the current CBS crime show, and was in the bathroom getting rid of much of the evening's coffee when he heard his doorbell ring. It was startling - he wasn't expecting anyone - but he wasn't at a point where he could stop what he was doing.

The bell rang again, and try as he might, he couldn't make things happen any faster. They'd just have to wait. Another thought came to him and he searched his memory, but other than Sofia and Viv's son, he didn't know of anyone with kids who would just drop in on him. He hoped not, anyway; candy and most sweets had gone by the wayside along with pizza and fast food. He certainly didn't need the temptation of it, so he hadn't bought any on the principle of 'just in case someone stopped by'. No one had any other Halloween.

He finished up, flushed the toilet and washed his hands, noting that the doorbell hadn't rung again. Perhaps his visitor had left. It gave him a sort of relief, actually; anyone who knew him well would have known to call first, as his job often kept him working all and odd hours.

So it was a damned good thing his gun was safely tucked away in his closet safe when he pulled open the bathroom door and stumbled over Danny, standing in his hallway.

"What the hell - " he started, adrenalin flooding his body in the split second before he recognized the other man.

"Where the hell - " Danny started at the same time, glaring at Martin.

They stared at each other for several seconds, the shock giving way to annoyance. "How the hell did you get in here?' Martin asked finally.

Danny's face fell into a smirk, the one he got when he was angry. "Key, remember? You gave it to me."

Of course he had, he thought, in another one of those moments of stupidity.

Danny took his turn then, his voice sharp. "Where's Lizanne? You already got her to the bedroom?"

Anger gave way momentarily to confusion. "Lizanne? Last time I saw her was at Elena's apartment, with you two. Where else - "

"She left about three minutes after you did - she waited long enough to ask Elena if Cassidy could spend the night with Sofia. Said she had unexpected plans."

"And you thought - why the hell would you think - " He was sputtering and he knew it.

Danny was angry enough that he didn't seem to notice. "She's not your type, Martin," he stated with a certainty that only made Martin more angry.

"Really?" he snarled. "And what the hell is my type?"

Danny glared at him, his dark eyes flashing. He opened his mouth to say something, snapped it shut, opened it again, then, moving quicker than Martin could block, he was on him.

The kiss was hard and brutal, Danny's teeth grinding against Martin's mouth, demanding admission and submission. His hands caught in the front of Martin's shirt, jerking him up onto his toes and close, hard against Danny's body.

Instinctively he struggled - even though another part of him thought to surrender at once. It was, after all, Danny.

As it had been that afternoon, cajoling him into coming by Elena's, and then cajoling him into taking Sofia and her friends trick-or-treating, and then cajoling him into taking Lizanne -

"Wait a damned minute," he growled, or tried to; the tongue in his mouth was making speech a little difficult. But his own arms were free and he wedged them in between their bodies, pushing Danny away.

"Wait a damned minute," he repeated, more breathless now than growling. "It was your fucking idea for Lizanne to - "

"Elena's," Danny snapped, even as he was reaching for Martin.

But Martin avoided him, slipping off to the side and out of range. "I don't get you," he said, still retreating down the hall as Danny pressed forward. "You ask me to come over and take care of Sofia so you and Elena can fuck each other senseless, then you get jealous because I might have gone off with Elena's friend? What gives you the right to even think about - "

"Don't play the victim," Danny called back. "You had every chance to say 'no' - you always have that chance. You know what's going on, Martin." It was his hard voice, the one he used for interrogations, the one he used with perps. The one he used when Martin said 'no' one time too many.

Martin felt the shiver of fear that voice always drew from him. It wasn't fear for himself physically - not really, even though there was always an element of it due to the edge of pain that seemed to accompany their encounters when Danny was in this mood - but it was fear of what he knew he himself would do. What he knew he would surrender.

"Yeah," he said, stumbling backwards into the living room. "You want it all - a pretty little wife and family, and some extra on the side. But your 'extra on the side' has to be just for you, too - that's it, isn't it - no sharing."

"I don't share well," Danny agreed, and he was moving faster now, closing the distance between them. "But let's be honest, Martin - you don't want to be shared, do you. If it were up to you, it'd be just you and me - "

"And what's wrong with that?" Martin demanded, even though he knew the answer all too well.

Not that Danny tried to answer it. He was within range, and even though Martin was trying to scramble away, he wasn't fast enough, not when the back of the couch obstructed him.

Danny's hands caught him in the hair and neck, his long arms coming around Martin's shoulders. He was taller, so that he had the advantage as he leaned heavily against Martin, pushing him to arch over the couch, bending his back uncomfortably while trapping his lower body against it.

Trapping his erection firmly against Martin's belly.

It was primal, Martin knew, a response that had little basis in his higher-functioning brain. It came from his gut, his groin, and the animal part of him that he tried so hard to keep locked away.

It coalesced in his cock, bringing it to full erection with a speed he only knew with Danny. He groaned, partly in pleasure, partly at body's betrayal, and he felt Danny's laugh, the vibration of it through his lips and tongue.

"You're not teasing me, Marty," Danny said around the kissing. "You're teasing yourself. You want it bad, don't you, chica? Want me. Just like you always do."

His hands slid down Martin's back, but instead of moving between his butt and the couch, one of them drifted around to cup his erection.

"Oh yes, you want me, don't you, baby."

He tried to pull away, tried to get himself under control, but it was no use; the more he struggled, the harder Danny pressed against him, rubbed him, brought him closer.

"All for me," Danny murmured, but his voice was distracted, he himself was distracted. The pressure at Martin's groin lessened, giving him back some of his awareness. Danny wasn't curved over him now, and while he was still standing close, still touching Martin with that familiar ease that chased all sense from Martin's brain, he was staring down at his hand on Martin's cock.

"What are you - " Martin started, but before the words were out of his mouth, Danny dropped to his knees, his hands moving to the opening of Martin's jeans.

Martin couldn't breathe - he was looking down on Danny Taylor, on his knees, reaching into Martin's jeans and taking his erection in hand -

"This what you want, Marty? Me on my knees for you, doing this?" His fingers were warm around Martin's shaft, extricating him from the folds of cloth, pulling him forward, closer to his face, to his mouth.

"You want to see me licking you?" The tip of his tongue flicked out, pink and pointed, and wickedly hot where it touched the end of Martin's erection. It swept through the gathering of clear fluid, smearing some but lapping up most, leaving it shiny and slick.

But the sensation of it, the slight roughness as it slid over the taut flesh, was almost enough by itself. He arched, his fingers digging into the back of the couch, and the only thing that kept him from coming was the hand that was holding tight to the base of his cock.

The tongue lapped at him twice more, each contact like an electrical shock through him. He whimpered, heard himself, but couldn't stop.

Then Danny's voice was back, warm and laughing. "What else do you want, Marty? You want me to suck you, take you the way you take me?"

Before Martin could answer - before Martin could wrap his scattered thoughts around the very idea, Danny leaned forward and did exactly that.

It'd been so long - too long since anyone had done this to him, that he stopped breathing. It was only when the light-headedness started to distract him from the pleasure that he sobbed in air, only to have Danny pull back, laughing.

"You don't taste too bad," he said, running his tongue over his lips. "Almost as good as I do when I'm tasting myself in your mouth." He leaned back in, swiping languidly around Martin's slit. "But it's my turn now, Marty. I have a few wants, too."

With a final suck on the very tip of Martin's cock, he pushed himself back to his feet.

Martin was still reeling from the last contact, so he gave no resistance as Danny's hands caught his upper arms and turned him around, his back to Danny. He was just aware of his jeans being pushed down his thighs, then a pressure on his shoulders, forcing him forward.

Bending him over the back of his couch.

"Wait," he stammered, trying to stand.

But Danny was touching him more intimately now, long fingers edging down the cleft of his ass. Slick fingers, he noted, Danny had brought lube with him.

Slick fingers that prodded at the entrance to his body, then sank in before he could draw away. It wasn't painful, but it was uncomfortable - he wasn't ready, wasn't certain that he wanted it.

They went deep, stroking over his prostate and he moaned, thrusting despite himself. The movement trapped his erection against the back of the couch, the friction almost burning, and he pushed back - only to impale himself more.

"That's it," Danny whispered against his neck, "that's my boy. No woman is ever going to be able to please you, Marty, no woman can make you feel this."

The fingers in him pulled back, almost out, but then came back faster and wider. Danny had added another one, stretching him.

He wanted to say no, wanted to have the courage to push Danny away this time, tell him that he wasn't going to be 'on the side'. Wanted to tell him to get out.

"Did you like me sucking on you?" Danny murmured against him. "I've never done that before, for anyone, Marty. Just you. Did you like it?"

The memory of it, Danny's mouth on him, the way he had looked, his cheeks hollowed out as he had taken almost half of Martin's erection into his mouth, his lips stretched thin -

He moaned, body tensing as he wound closer. But again, Danny's hand was there, holding the base of his cock, holding back his release.

"Need you," Danny was saying now, and Martin felt the fingers in him pull back. "Now, Martin, right now."

He whimpered, not wanting it and wanting it so badly he couldn't find the words.

Then it was there, pressing against him, stretching him wide, wider that Danny's fingers had.

It hurt, it always did, but at some point, it always felt so good he never wanted it to stop. He cried out, raising one hand to his mouth instinctively, biting the palm; the pain of it quickly overwhelmed the pain of Danny's penetration, and all the pain was blown away when the thick head rubbed over the magic spot and fireworks razed along his spine to fire behind his eyes.

Someone was speaking - Danny, he thought muzzily, speaking in that odd mixture of Spanish and English, the tone and murmurs that he used when he wasn't paying attention to anything other than his own pleasure. But he was far more aware of the hands on him, one still holding his own release away, the other climbing up under his shirt, stroking his belly then his ribs, until it found one of his pointed nipples.

And pulled.

It hurt almost as much as the bite he was giving himself - but the pain hardly mattered compared to the shock of desire that rolled through him. The shock of need that put him right back at the edge. He barely had time to breathe before Danny's hips snapped, driving him farther in, then jerking out, then in once more, shooting more flares and he was gone.

The taste of blood slowly seeped into his awareness, bringing him back to his physical self. It took an effort to get his jaw to relax so that he could release his hand, more effort to orient himself.

He was pressed between the couch and Danny, bent backwards so that his head was pillowed on Danny's shoulder. Danny stood straight behind him, his hands griping Martin's hips so hard that he knew he would have bruises in the morning. He wasn't breathing, and Martin could feel the twinges and shudders along his back, and deep inside.

He stayed still and quiet, closing his eyes to concentrate on Danny's orgasm. It never failed to amaze him that Danny could want him so, that he could be the cause of Danny's release.

Especially given Danny's obvious interest in the opposite sex.

But here he was, despite every ounce of Martin's common sense, buried to the hilt in Martin's ass and coming like he hadn't come in days - when Martin knew that it couldn't have been more than hours.

And Martin wanted it more than he wanted anything else.

It took a while for Danny to come down; the first signs were the relaxing of the fingers digging into Martin's hips, then the slow sigh as the tension in the long body dissipated.

Eventually, Danny slouched, his weight tilting Martin forward to lean over the couch.

Martin supported him, catching his own breathe, wallowing in the momentary closeness that was more than friendship, a bridge that spanned the distance Danny kept between them.

As if knowing this, Danny said, "I wasn't lying." His voice was a rasp, airy now. "I've never done that for anyone else. Not even . . . not even Elena."

He couldn't deny the little vindictive thrill the words gave him. But greater was the warm glow. He shifted, wanting to turn to face the other man. He wasn't surprised, though a little hurt, when Danny held him still, facing away.

"You're right, I know you're right. I have no claim on you." His voice had dropped low, barely audible, and he was speaking right at Martin' ear, as though this were the greatest of secrets.

As though this were something he feared ever being confronted with.

"But the thought of anyone else touching you makes me crazy. The thought that you might leave me. I know it's not right, Martin, I know it's my problem that I can't be with you the way you want. I want to - I really do. But every time I think I'm ready to make that move, something . . . something in me just can't. But I . . . " He swallowed, hesitating. Martin could feel the tension in him, the slight shaking in his hands as they held him, the hitching in his words when he finally said, "I do love you."

The words were so indistinct that Martin didn't actually hear them. But they were there, the admission clear in the way Danny curled over him, kissing at his neck, the way his arms wrapped around Martin, gentle and possessive.

The way that, when their bodies separated, Danny's cock slipping clear with a slick chill, he drew Martin even closer, nuzzling against his ear. No words now, just soft touches.

They didn't last long - but as they'd never happened before, they seemed to last forever.

Martin understood already that what had just passed between them would never be discussed, that as soon as Danny's broke the embrace, things would go back to what they had been before. He clung an extra few seconds, holding Danny's arms still when he started to edge away, but eventually, feeling the other man's restlessness, he let go.

What Danny had given him would have to be enough. For now anyway.

But in another surprising concession, Danny didn't start chatting about nothing as he pulled himself back together. He stayed quiet, his dark eyes following Martin when he pushed off the couch and made his way unsteadily toward the bathroom.

He even followed, though he didn't stand in the doorway, or where he could watch as Martin cleaned himself up.

And still he said nothing.

Martin broke the silence, finding it odd and intimidating. "You want to clean up?" he asked. He kept his voice low, but it still seemed loud and brazen.

Danny shook his head, already dressed. But his eyes were on Martin's, watchful.

Martin paused in the bathroom doorway, uncertain. After a few seconds, Danny nodded, then straightened. He smiled - and became Danny Taylor, FBI agent, boyfriend to Elena, everybody's buddy.

"Well, Elena's going to be so disappointed that Lizanne wasn't with you. She's so hoping to set you up. She's worried that you're lonely, Martin." He arched one eyebrow and smirked.

Martin looked away.

Danny nattered on about - nothing. Mostly the kids that had come to the door - the few they had been there to see, the way he loved Halloween, how much he wished Martin had dressed up. The last part was partly a flirt, but by then, they were in the kitchen, Martin pulling water bottles from the fridge. And not listening.

He wanted to treasure what had happened before, wanted to lock that Danny, and those words, into his memory, untainted by the man with him now.

It was almost a relief when Danny glanced at the clock over Martin's kitchen table and said, "How did it get to be so late? Tomorrow's a work day!"

He ambled toward the door, going on about Jack wanting them all at work on time these days - Viv's new task force and the intricacies of inter-office respect, gesturing wildly and laughing at nothing.

Until he was standing with the door open, halfway into the hall and looking back at Martin. His stillness caught Martin's attention, a contrast that once more shook his perception.

No words now, just Danny standing still, looking at him. Then, as Martin frowned, leaning in slowly and carefully, kissing him on the lips.

He was gone before the shock wore off enough for Martin to move.

But as he closed the door, he smiled.

END

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