Work Text:
The detective sat at his desk, staring out the window. It had been a long day of an even more tedious week. One of their recent cases had uncovered a smuggling ring that the district wanted eliminated as quickly as possible. He’d been put in charge of 4 units of professionals stationed around Twin Lakes.
Dooley pulled his focus back down to the paperwork in front of him. This wasn’t what he signed up for. He became a detective for the car chases and running after bad guys through abandoned buildings, not ordering people around via radio and making game plans from his office. He needed to be out there, working with them, as a team.
To say Patrick Dooley was a people person would be an understatement. He could find out anything about anyone without them ever knowing they’d told him. He could easily talk his way out of a hostage situation. He even managed to get the whole precinct out looking when his partner, McQueen, had disappeared. But the thing he hated most was having to order those people around; it stressed him out. If something went wrong, he would be responsible, and that thought haunted him.
“Once the suspects had been interviewed,” Dooley mumbled as he wrote. “it didn’t take long before they confirmed the identities of various dealers who refused to cooperate in their respective interviews.”
He threw the pen down once he finished, that would have to do. The stress from the day was clouding his mind, if only McQueen were here, then he’d at least get a hug. He stuffed the papers into their respective folders and piled them on the end of the desk. Time to clock out.
Dooley took his trilby off the coat stand, nestling it on his head and shrugging his suit jacket over his now half unbuttoned shirt (he was too hot with so many people crammed into the office all day). He plunged the room into darkness as he headed out.
The garage was cold as always. The trusty Popo Moto stood out from all the other vehicles around it. Sure, it technically wasn’t a police car and just Dooley’s car that he’d stick a siren on if they were on a chase, but she was the best police car around. He’d even gotten her painted the same blue as the uniforms.
==-==-==-==
As buildings passed him by on the trip back to the apartment, he let his mind drift in an attempt to relax. It was dark now and the moon kept disappearing behind the highrises of the city skyline. Such a neat bit of trickery, for a moment Dooley could almost be convinced it was real. Before he knew it, he came to a stop. But getting out, he realised this wasn’t his intended destination.
Looking up at the signage on the front of the building, Dooley realised he’d made his way to the second best animal shelter in TL. It was closed now but he knew it wasn’t empty. Leaning against the glass of the doors, he cupped his hands around his eyes to block out the light of the street lamps and squinted inside.
There was a light seeping through a gap in one of the doors behind the reception desk. He knocked on the window. There was no sign of movement so he tried again, shouting this time.
“McQueen! Francis! Frankie boy!”
McQueen worked at the shelter a few nights a week. He’d said it was to help cover bills, but Dooley has always known deep down his partner enjoys getting to work with animals. Similar to how Dooley used to work nights at the club, not for the money but for the enjoyment of it. That was before the chief caught wind of it and threatened to demote him back down to officer for working two jobs. Still being an officer himself, McQueen could get away with working whatever he liked. Probably. Dooley would never rat him out though.
There was movement from behind the door and then it opened, revealing his clearly baffled friend. Dooley’s face lit up at the sight. McQueen strode across the reception, unlocking the door from the inside.
“What are you doing here?” Great question, why was he here?
“To pick you up from work, obviously!” Dooley lied cheerfully. McQueen still wasn’t convinced.
“I finish in 20 minutes. You can wait if you’d like.”
Only 20 minutes, he could do that. Dooley was just glad it wasn’t longer, at least his lie wasn’t blatantly obvious. He could wait it out.
“Sounds good, I’ll be in the car.” Giving an overly cheerful grin to his friend, Dooley went to sit in the Popo moto, watching as McQueen locked the door again and returned to the darkness beyond the windshield.
==-==-==-==
It didn’t feel long at all before his partner re-emerged, holding the door open for someone else, presumably taking over from him. He threw his bag onto the backseat before joining Dooley up front.
“How was your shift?” Dooley asked as he started the car, pulling away from the shelter.
“It was alright. Tiny managed to undo the latch of his cage so we had to find a way to tie it closed. Belle suggested getting an industrial lock but you can’t do that sort of thing, especially with an animal already on close observation.”
Dooley nodded along as he took in none of what McQueen was telling him. He just enjoyed how enthusiastic he got when he talked about the place. He always looked so stressed at work, complaining about ‘policing methods’ or something like that. But here he looked like a different man.
Was that jealousy that just seeped into the corners of his mind? No, he wasn’t jealous, Dooley was happy with his life… but this last week had been straining. What he’d give to forget all about it. To have an outlet where he could relax and not have to think so much.
“Are you getting out or are you sleeping in here?”
Dooley snapped his attention to McQueen, who was now standing outside the car. They’d stopped driving. Dooley unclenched his hands from around the steering wheel. They were outside the apartment.
“Yep, getting out. I’ve spent more time than I’d like sleeping in cars on stakeouts, I’m not doing that voluntarily.”
==-==-==-==
The detective had tried to keep McQueen’s apartment while he was missing but he had to let it go eventually. When they had first been reunited, McQueen had stayed with Dooley and then never moved out. Everything McQueen owned was already in boxes there and they both enjoyed the other’s company.
Dooley hung his hat up while McQueen locked the door behind them. He turned to find his friend standing right in front of him, looking stern but equally concerned.
“Good evening officer, can I help you?” He joked almost defensively.
“Something’s up. You’ve been getting quieter as the week’s gone on; you never come to pick me up from the shelter; you keep zoning out and you’ve got this weird look in your eye.” McQueen looked at him steadily. It’s times like this that make him wonder who’s actually the detective here.
Part of him wants to hide all his insecurities away but the other part wants to break and spill everything he’s ever thought out to his best friend. But his ingrained need for people to think the best of him held him back.
“There, that look. If you need to get anything off your chest, feel free. I know I’ve hated this week. I had to work a case with McKing. That man secretly hates you, I don’t know what you did but he spent the whole case talking about how ‘I bet your Dooley can’t do that’. I don’t know why you keep talking to him.”
Dooley smiled at the idea of McQueen and McKing having to work together. Maybe he could just get a couple things off his chest.
“I-“, his voice broke and he could feel the telltale sting of tears in his eyes. “I don’t know why it had to be me. All these people waiting for me to tell them what to do. I don’t know what I’m doing! And what if I messed up. It’d all be my fault. I always have to know what I’m doing and-“ He took a shaky breath, trying to steady himself.
“Would you like a hug?” McQueen had his arms outstretched already. Dooley quickly nodded.
He was pulled into a steady embrace. Despite being slightly taller, Dooley rested his head on his friend’s shoulder, grounding himself in those arms. Everything worked out fine, but all he could think about was what if it hadn’t and then everyone would hate him for screwing up so badly.
McQueen spoke softly to him, rubbing his back soothingly.
“Hey”, McQueen pulled back slightly so he could look at Dooley’s face. “Would it help if I could take your mind off things for a bit?”
He didn’t mean what Dooley thought he meant, did he? He wasn’t going to say no, but maybe now wasn’t the best time.
“I’m honoured”, Dooley sniffled, “but I’m not really feeling it right now.”
“What? No. I- if you’re ok with it, can you give me your gun and badge?”
Dooley was intrigued. He trusted McQueen completely. Pulling away from the embrace, he fished around in his pocket until he could pull out his badge and unholstered his gun, ceremoniously putting them into McQueen’s waiting hands.
“You are now no longer Detective Dooley. You’re not even Dooley, you are now just Patrick. Regular civilian Patrick. That ok?”
This wasn’t what he was expecting, but the idea of giving over his control to someone else was already easing some of his worrying. He nodded.
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes”
“Good” McQueen replied cheerily. The man put the gun and badge in the top draw of the hallway dresser. His friend headed off further into the apartment but he didn’t move. For once, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. McQueen, clearly having noticed a lack of Dooley- no… Patrick, came back into the hallway.
“You ok Patrick?”
“Uh”, how the hell was he supposed to ask about this, “weird request but can you uhh. Can you just tell me what I need to do?”
It took McQueen a couple of seconds to work out what he was asking, but when he figured it out he looked almost pleased.
“Of course. Follow me.” Patrick followed.
He was told to wait in the living room while McQueen started cooking. Sat on the sofa patiently. Usually he’d have put the TV on as soon as they got in, but he hadn’t been told if he could and he didn’t want to disappoint McQueen. For once, he was at peace with the quiet.
He focused on the sounds of McQueen in the kitchen. He could hear the man humming softly, the sound of water coming to the boil, plastic ripping, microwave starting, scraping of ceramic mugs.
McQueen set the mugs down on the coffee table. The smell of the coffee hit first, but the taste of the cocoa hit second. It was very nice.
“I’ve just put ready meal lasagna in if that’s alright. Do not have the time to cook right now.”
“I like those lasagna’s, they’re nice.” Patrick was starting to find it difficult to think much deeper than that. It was strange, it was like his mind was being taken over by a cloud of fuzziness and contentment. He still had enough of his mind to remember experiencing something similar years ago in a… much different situation. But that would be something to think more on later.
“You know, one day I’ll make a proper lasagna and it’ll outshine those so much you’ll never want to touch one again.” The sofa dipped next to him and a gentle warmth greeted him.
Patrick put his mug back down and tipped over so he leant into his partner.
“Hey there buddy.” McQueen used the hand not gripping his mug of coffee to rub his friend’s arm comfortingly. “We’re going to eat and then uh, I'll tell you to do stuff I guess. I don’t know if you want me to do any more than that but I don’t think you want to make decisions right now.”
Patrick responded with a frankly pathetic noise.
“That’s what I thought”, he laughed.
Ping.
“And that’s the microwave. I’ll be back in a second.” McQueen gently pushed the other back up so he could stand. As he was walking out, he turned back to simply say, “stay”, before leaving.
If Patrick said that didn’t do anything to him he’d be lying. Through the fuzziness, the theory of people in high power jobs tending towards submission struck him. No, why would he be thinking about that now. McQueen was just doing him a favour and letting him not have to think about anything. That’s it.
An unhelpful voice in his head told him if he played incompetent enough, he might be able to get McQueen to feed him-
No, that’s too much. McQueen has been incredibly kind already. Speaking of, the man returned, two lap trays stacked in one hand and plates in the other. He set the bottom one onto Patrick’s lap, putting plate on it before sitting next to him again with his own.
“We should watch something”, McQueen mused, remote already in hand. The first show was only on for a couple seconds before it was changed. “Paranormal stuff, too much like work.” This new show was some competition where they were building… something. “This looks alright. Eat up.”
Patrick doesn’t think he’s eaten so fast in his life. The boring office stuff always made him hungry. So did chasing bad guys. And interviewing people… maybe he’s just always hungry.
“You’re thinking about work again. Right?” He turned to McQueen who was looking at him intensely, analysing him like he does those puzzle books. Another feeling to put away for later. “Stop that. Patrick doesn’t think about work. He doesn’t have to, he works… at an outdoor camp.”
“Like the Bloodwolves?” Patrick loves working with the Bloodwolves. He’s only a helper but the kids seem to love when he’s there. Patricia appreciates the assistance, especially when they do outdoor badges. She always preferred the safer activities, but how were they supposed to do the 100 badge badge with just risk assessment approved activities? Thinking about them made him smile.
“Exactly like them. The biggest mystery he has to solve is who left their bracelet in the dining hall this morning.”
Patrick hummed in approval, that did sound nice actually.
“You know, that outfit doesn’t really fit with Patrick, you should change.”
==-==-==-==
He stared at himself in the full length mirror in his room. McQueen had told him he looked like some TV detective when he first switched up his day to day outfit, but he seems to have warmed up to it over the years. The usual white suit had a pale blue shirt under it today, classy. It may be a pain to get it dry cleaned after every case, but the way it made people’s heads turn was worth it. None of those people had actually gone on a date with him, but McQueen wouldn’t appreciate him bringing people back every night anyway.
Speaking of, McQueen was currently sifting through Patrick’s draws. He kept pulling out sleep shirts, deciding against them and having to re-fold and return them to the draw.
McQueen and Patrick each had separate rooms in the apartment. Even though it was technically a one bed, Patrick sacrificed the home gym because what else was he going to do when his friend came back? He did keep most of the equipment though. The treadmill is in the living room and weights now live in the hallway.
McQueen had laid out a set of comfortable clothes: plaid pj pants and a large shirt with a print in a similar red to the pants.
“This is the closest I can find to a set, one day I’ll buy you something that actually matches. Now can you please get that stupid suit off.” Maybe McQueen hadn’t started liking it after all. That actually hurt. It must have shown because the other cringed.
McQueen had never been good at reading people, he could be blunt at times so Patrick spent most of their tween years trying to de-escalate situations that bluntness had gotten them into. But as time went on, McQueen had started learning to read Patrick. Honestly, he’d started playing up his expressions and emotions to help McQueen learn, but all it meant was that McQueen could now read Patrick like a book while everyone else stayed a mystery.
“Sorry, I mean it’s not that stupid, it’s just I’d go with something… subtler.” If he wasn’t enjoying this whole change in dynamic thing, he’d be more offended.
“It’s not bad…. Patrick wouldn’t wear it. So let’s change into something Patrick would wear.” McQueen tugged at the sleeve of his jacket. He took it as his cue to take it off.
McQueen watched as he shrugged off the jacket and threw it in the rough direction of the laundry basket. He’d done a lot of things for a lot of people, but nothing so simple had felt so intimate before. His friends' eyes were on him and he felt exposed. He didn’t have the title to hide behind. Francis could be staring into his soul and Patrick would let him. He didn’t feel the need to perform, to please. Francis just wanted him to be. And he would do anything Francis wanted.
McQueen stepped back.
“I think I should also get ready for bed actually, you should brush your teeth and all that when you’re dressed. I’ll see you in a bit.” And with that he left.
He dressed as fast as he could, trying to cling onto Patrick. But as he brushed his teeth, he felt it starting to slip away. It felt silly when McQueen wasn’t around. He made it feel right.
He left the bathroom to see McQueen sat on Patrick’s bed through the open door. He was in similar pyjamas, but the set matched. It was charming.
“I thought that Patrick might like the company of Francis tonight.” Patrick couldn’t suppress the smile that seeped back onto his face.
“I would love Francis’ company.”
==-==-==-==
Patrick turned the bedside lamp off, sending them into darkness. The warmth beside him was a comfortable change. It was clear neither were going to sleep any time soon. As they both lay staring at what could be made out of the ceiling, Patrick decided to be the one to break the silence.
“Tell me more about Patrick. I like him. I don’t think I’ve been him for such a long time. I think I’ve forgotten what it’s like.”
Francis was quiet, thinking.
“Well.. he likes the outdoors, going on walks in the park if he can’t get further out. He likes to sing, he’s good at baking-“ Patrick laughed.
“Keep it realistic please.”
“Sorry,” Francis continued, laughing quietly. “Patrick lives in a one bed apartment with his close friend Francis. They do everything together. They didn’t used to, but a long separation made them appreciate each other's presence more.”
Patrick could feel something. Something unsaid. Something he didn’t think he could put up with anymore.
“And do they ever do anything more?”
Francis was quick to answer.
“No, not at the moment, but anything is possible. I think what they have is pretty special already, they should learn to embrace it more.”
“And does Patrick ever tell Francis how much he means to him?”
“Not often, but Francis doesn’t say it enough either.”
Patrick rolled over to try and make out his best friend’s face in the darkness. Francis didn’t move.
“Doesn’t say what enough?”
Francis’ lips moved but he spoke so softly it went unheard. But those words were so recognisable that the sentiment hit Patrick like a truck.
Patrick lept at Francis, wrapping him in a wrestling level hug.
“I love you too”, he grinned, pinning down his writhing friend.
“Get off, Francis is going to take it all back and go back to his own bed if you don’t calm down.” Patrick backed up, but stayed close as his friend presumably glared at him and the darkness. He settled back down and Patrick did the same.
“Goodnight, can we do this again some time?”
“Yes. I enjoyed it more than I was expecting. I wasn’t expecting to get anything out of it to be honest.”
“W- but you came up with this-“
“Go to sleep Patrick”
…
“Yes sir”