Death And Donuts

Chapter 2 - Failure is the Highest Form of Flattery.

Daniel slid his hands into his jeans and slouched as he walked out of the Serge's office. Oliver had stayed behind, obsessing over the small collection of information in the robbery's case file. They were both shocked about the incident, but Oliver seemingly just couldn't understand how they had both missed the robbery. Daniel almost found something about it a little fishy too, but he couldn't put his finger on why. So he left it up to Oliver and the Serge, preferring not to think about what he couldn't comprehend.

He decided he'd wait around for his companion, slumping into one of the old plastic chairs in the reception area of the station. He had nothing else to do anyway, and the silence of his apartment was something he didn't feel like going back to right away. He looked around lazily for either Kate, the only other officer in the whole town, or the quiet-natured Maureen, but the whole front of the building was empty. Just like always.

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It was four hours later when Oliver finally walked out, shoulders hunched inward in either sheer tiredness or defeat. The pair had gathered barely anything from the evidence, and no matter how much they looked at it, nothing was gained. They decided to leave it up to the department's detective to uncover. He was only fresh out of finishing his city apprenticeship, but he was the best, and only, help they had. It was somewhat absurd that a simple robbery was creating so much pressure and buzz, but it was the first piece of 'real' action the town had experienced for what to some felt like a millennia, and the police department, in all honesty, had no idea what to do.

Oliver slowly made his way towards the front of the station to head home- expecting that Daniel was long gone. He wandered slowly past Maureen's office, finding her hunched over a stack of papers as she hurriedly scribbled with a ballpoint pen. She was still working four hours past her normal finishing time, as per usual. He often wondered why she always had so much work to do; since the town was always so quiet, but he never did ask her. He decided not to bother her, instead moving off towards the reception area.

Oliver was surprised to say the least, to find Daniel- in possibly one of the weirdest positions ever- awkwardly asleep in one of the chairs by the front entrance. He moved towards him and gently jabbed him in the arm, prompting the sleeping 'beauty' to jerk awake, and almost fall out of his chair.

'Hmph-, Oliver?' Daniel rubbed his eyes and looked up squintedly at the figure that woke him from his uncomfortable slumber.

'That would be me.' Oliver sighed quietly, 'Why are you still here?' he grabbed Daniel's arm to pull him up out of the chair, a slight tone of concern in his voice, 'You didn't have to wait for me, you know.'

'Yeah, I know' Daniel smirked, 'But, I didn't have anything else to do anyway, and these chairs are-' he attempted to stretch his aching limbs as he spoke, 'Real comfy.'

Oliver gave Daniel a lazy raised eyebrow and glanced at his watch.

'Well, its 11:46 PM. Do you want me to drive you home? Or are you planning on staying here and permanently damaging your spine?'

'Um, excuse me,' Daniel, although still half asleep, argued humorously, 'Who said you were driving? I'm probably the most responsible driver out of the two of us.'

Oliver walked straight past him towards the door and opened it. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and didn't turn around as he replied.

'Yeah, but you're barely awake. I am not letting you behind the wheel of your car, and especially not in god-damn snow in the middle of the night.'

Daniel huffed and begrudgingly followed him out the door and into the night.

'Oh, so you don't trust- holy shit it's cold out here!'

Every single surface that was visible in the light of the station's entrance was covered in a thick coat of snow, and the cold air hit their lungs like a truck hits a possum on the highway.

'You don't say.' shouted Oliver, fighting with the wind to be heard, 'Now get in the car so I can turn on the AC before we get hypothermia.'

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Daniel waved to the patrol car as it retreated from the driveway. He pulled his key card from his pocket, and opened the drab apartment complex's door. His feet dragged as he made his way lazily up the stairs to his tiny, little room, looking forward to finally getting some real sleep. He didn't mind his room's size; since he lived alone and usually he was only ever in there to sleep anyway, but despite that, it didn't stop him from filling the space with his favourite things; fake plants hung from the ceiling, books of every kind were stacked precariously high in the corner near his pull out bed, and pens and used notepads filled the window seal and small counter that was considered as a 'kitchenette' in the room's listing.

Thankfully making it into his room without collapsing into a tired heap, Daniel kicked the door shut gently with the back of his foot and flung himself onto the pull out bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

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Oliver placed the guitar carefully back onto its stand and stretched out his arms. He'd dropped Daniel off at his apartment an hour ago, and now here he was, wide awake at one in the morning, attempting to play the guitar quietly enough as to not wake the other tenants in the unit block. He hadn't even changed out of his uniform. He didn't understand how he wasn't tired, he definitely was an hour ago, but it very well might have been because of the ultra large espresso he picked up from the 24 hour drive thru at Doley's Donuts on the way home.

He got up from the couch and moved towards the kitchenette. Taking a quick glance at the sink, Oliver noticed how much he'd been neglecting his chores; dishes were stacked high in the sink like a extreme game of Jenga, with knives and forks jutting out from between them like miniature spears, the microwave looked a little... crusty, and the floor was about 80 percent coffee stains. He considered doing something about it for an intensely brief period, but retracted the idea and instead found himself seated at the kitchen counter, pulling out his phone that was cracked beyond belief. He scrolled through feeds aimlessly for about an hour or so, glazing over picture after picture of obese cats and fancy meals with ridiculously high price tags, when suddenly the phone vibrated violently, making Oliver almost drop it onto the hardwood flooring. Fumbling for a moment, he found Maureen's name on screen next to an answer call button. He pressed the button and put the phone to his ear, both curious and concerned as to why she was calling so early.

There was a moment of silence before a shrill, panicked voice rang through.

'Oliver! Oh god Oliver! Get down here now!'