bang bang, shoot shoot.

[badboybutterman]

All afternoon while catching up on his paperwork (like he'd promised), Danny had been eyeing the tall metal cabinet in the corner of the room. This metal cabinet contained all the firearms that they'd salvaged from the explosion. Some rifles, some handguns, a couple boxes of ammunition... All that good stuff.

The reason why he was so distracted (well, more distracted than usual) was that because ever since he learned about the firing range at Milliways, he wondered if he and Nicholas could tote some guns over and fire off a few rounds. Just for the helluvit. Y'know, like y'do. The cabinet was locked, though, and only Nicholas had the key.

Danny twiddled a pen in his fingers. He looked up at the clock. It was a quarter to seven and everyone else had left already. He looked over at Nicholas, who was still at his desk working. And then he looked down at the matchbook he'd brought back from the Bar, propped up against his coffee mug.

"Hey, Nick," he said nonchalantly and without preamble, "got the key for the cabinet?"

Comments

[uksupercop.livejournal.com]

"I'm just not sure I like the idea of walking into that place with a weapon."

[badboybutterman]

"But people do it all the time! There's other law enforcers that carry weapons in, I've seen 'em. Plus if we stay in uniform, it'll let everyone know that we're allowed to be packin'."

[uksupercop.livejournal.com]

"That's not exactly what I meant..."

Dammit, stop looking at me like that.

"I suppose it would be good to keep in practice."

[badboybutterman]

Danny could light the world up with his smile!

"Yeah, exactly, keepin' in practice is good!"

Then he wonders, "What did you mean, then?"

[uksupercop.livejournal.com]

"It just seems too much like mixing business with pleasure."

He's aware that that doesn't make a lot of sense, and he's not happy about it.

[badboybutterman]

He makes a series of confused, questioning faces.

"Mixin' business with pleasure...?"

Wait. Some of the words are sticking, although he might be inadvertently twisting them a bit.

"...So you do like shootin' off guns! That's gotta be the pleasure part. I knew it!"

[uksupercop.livejournal.com]

"They're tools, Danny. A means to an end. We've been over this."

... He does like them better when he's not actually shooting at people. but he won't admit that.

[badboybutterman]

Danny clearly sees that Nicholas is cornered, but he just thinks of these situations as games sometimes. Just how long will it take until he can convince him to have a little fun?

"I know we've been over this, but- but c'mon! It's been months since we last used 'em. Let's use 'em again, 'cept now we'll just be hittin' paper targets. ...And maybe gettin' a kick out of it, too, y'know? Ain't no harm in that, now, is there?"

[uksupercop.livejournal.com]

Nicholas knows when he's been beaten, and there's no one better at chipping away his defenses than his partner. Without a verbal concession, he tosses Danny the kays to the cabinet.

[badboybutterman]

Danny lets out a gleefully victorious "Yehey!" and catches the keys with one hand. Making a beeline for the cabinet, he unlocks it and pulls open its doors. Mmm, it's been a while since he's seen their arsenal -- not as impressive as before, but still pretty badass for what they've got.

He lifts a Winchester M1300 from its rack, enjoying the solid feel of it in his hands. "Hello, Emma, did'ja miss me?"

Yes, he named his favorite shotgun.

As he reaches for a case of shells, he asks Nicholas, "D'you want your beretta, then?"

It was never really specified if any particular gun belonged to any particular officer, but Danny just associates the chunky chrome handgun with Nicholas.

[uksupercop.livejournal.com]

Given the fact that they were originally brought in as evidence, they don't really belong to anyone, but that's just semantics at this point. He takes the gun from Danny and checks it out - it's in remarkably good shape for having survived an explosion.

"Emma?"

[badboybutterman]

Danny tucks the butt of the shotgun under his arm and tilts his head, looking down along its barrel with one eye squinted.

"Uh huh," he merely says. "You name yours?"

[uksupercop.livejournal.com]

"Can't say that I have."

[badboybutterman]

"Shame. Gun like that needs a name. And it's gotta be a female name. That's the rule."

[uksupercop.livejournal.com]

"Got any suggestions, then?"

[badboybutterman]

"Huh? I can't name your gun for you. It sorta just...comes to you while you're handling it, y'know? Like she almost tells you her name herself. Maybe you just need to get reaquainted with 'er on the firing range, eh?"

[uksupercop.livejournal.com]

"Alright, alright, I get it. You ready?"

[badboybutterman]

"Hang on..."

Danny grabs a small black duffel bag full of ammunition and slings it over his shoulder. Then he holds up between his fingers the matchbook from Milliways, their ticket to the end of the universe.

"Ready!"